Tuesday, July 8, 2008
We've Moved!
Hello to all my loyal readers. I've decided to move Against Goliath to a new home. The new website is againstgoliath.wordpress.com. So, since I know all of you have my blog bookmarked, it's time to update. I hope you can all make the change and keep reading my stuff!
Monday, July 7, 2008
Women...
I was very shocked today to see a female security guard checking bags at the entrance to the mall (I find it funny the level of caution rises when an Arab passes through as opposed to the Americans…). However, I’d say here is the main difference between Jordan and Israel – besides, of course, the number of Jews on hand and the fact Israel is considered first world – the women.
Obviously, this is a Muslim nation, so many women here are very conservative and are often treated as such. But the difference is still astounding. When I approached the female security officer today to have my bag checked, she sort of looked down and motioned for me to continue past her. She essentially told me to go to the male officer. It took me a few moments to figure out what was going on, but it wouldn’t have been appropriate for a female to check my bag.
Now, in Israel, if you’re not careful, the women will stick an Israeli Assault Rifle up your butt and smile as you wonder why a woman just stuck a rifle up your ass. At the airport once, I had a very stocky female customs agent question me about being a Jew (questions like, what are the words to the song you sang during your Bar Mitzvah; when I replied I didn’t have one, she wondered why I told her I was Jewish). This woman, albeit short, purposely had a uniform that was too small so the buttons strained to keep it on her body. She had this weird afro of a haircut and she badly needed braces which I took note of because she never stopped smiling. It was only after the intrusive interrogation that I realized if she had stopped smiling, she probably would have broken me in half, put a hard plastic shell over me and blown me up just to be safe.
When I’m not busy analyzing the differences of women between countries (one Jordanian Christian calls the fully-covered Muslim women “Ninja Ladies”), I am in fact trying to speak Arabic to people. However, there are clearly different groups of people when the issue of Arabic comes up. I have found I have far easier time communicating in Arabic with people who actually speak English. Before you laugh at the statement of the obvious, let me explain. I firmly believe now that, one, by breaking the ice, people are more receptive to the fact you want to practice Arabic, and two, people who can speak English know how we form our syllables and understand the problems we have in imitating foreign Arabic sounds not in the English language. This allows them to more easily figure out what exactly us English speakers are trying to say when using Arabic.
Other people have absolutely zero interest in letting me use Arabic, even when I demonstrate I actually can say a few things. They automatically assume I can’t speak Arabic and then no matter what comes out of my mouth, they refuse to try and understand me and go looking for an English speaker to help in communicating. And then some of these people still assume I can’t speak and then laugh hysterically when a word comes out of my mouth (although I don’t think it’s mockingly, but more like, “Why the hell would an infidel know words in the language of Muhammad?”).
I suppose I’m picking up a few new words here and there, but I also think another semester or two of intense studying in America would have been (and will prove to be) beneficial.
A couple more articles, this time with a bit of light on the horizon:
http://www.metimes.com/International/2008/07/07/syria_will_break_links_with_iran_if_us_steps_in_to_help/8591/
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/06/world/middleeast/06iraq.html?_r=1&ref=middleeast&oref=slogin
Obviously, this is a Muslim nation, so many women here are very conservative and are often treated as such. But the difference is still astounding. When I approached the female security officer today to have my bag checked, she sort of looked down and motioned for me to continue past her. She essentially told me to go to the male officer. It took me a few moments to figure out what was going on, but it wouldn’t have been appropriate for a female to check my bag.
Now, in Israel, if you’re not careful, the women will stick an Israeli Assault Rifle up your butt and smile as you wonder why a woman just stuck a rifle up your ass. At the airport once, I had a very stocky female customs agent question me about being a Jew (questions like, what are the words to the song you sang during your Bar Mitzvah; when I replied I didn’t have one, she wondered why I told her I was Jewish). This woman, albeit short, purposely had a uniform that was too small so the buttons strained to keep it on her body. She had this weird afro of a haircut and she badly needed braces which I took note of because she never stopped smiling. It was only after the intrusive interrogation that I realized if she had stopped smiling, she probably would have broken me in half, put a hard plastic shell over me and blown me up just to be safe.
When I’m not busy analyzing the differences of women between countries (one Jordanian Christian calls the fully-covered Muslim women “Ninja Ladies”), I am in fact trying to speak Arabic to people. However, there are clearly different groups of people when the issue of Arabic comes up. I have found I have far easier time communicating in Arabic with people who actually speak English. Before you laugh at the statement of the obvious, let me explain. I firmly believe now that, one, by breaking the ice, people are more receptive to the fact you want to practice Arabic, and two, people who can speak English know how we form our syllables and understand the problems we have in imitating foreign Arabic sounds not in the English language. This allows them to more easily figure out what exactly us English speakers are trying to say when using Arabic.
Other people have absolutely zero interest in letting me use Arabic, even when I demonstrate I actually can say a few things. They automatically assume I can’t speak Arabic and then no matter what comes out of my mouth, they refuse to try and understand me and go looking for an English speaker to help in communicating. And then some of these people still assume I can’t speak and then laugh hysterically when a word comes out of my mouth (although I don’t think it’s mockingly, but more like, “Why the hell would an infidel know words in the language of Muhammad?”).
I suppose I’m picking up a few new words here and there, but I also think another semester or two of intense studying in America would have been (and will prove to be) beneficial.
A couple more articles, this time with a bit of light on the horizon:
http://www.metimes.com/International/2008/07/07/syria_will_break_links_with_iran_if_us_steps_in_to_help/8591/
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/06/world/middleeast/06iraq.html?_r=1&ref=middleeast&oref=slogin
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Speed it Up...
Jordan, for all of its good qualities, certainly does not lack in specific behaviors that seem to baffle the mind. Take, for example, the seemingly full-population endemic of walking slowly. This might sound contrite, but every single person, without exception – men and women, old and young – walks slowly. There appears to be a switch that gets clicked off when they step foot out of their cars – cuz God knows, this certainly does not apply to their driving techniques – and they kick back into first gear.
I’ll be the first to admit, lollygagging has its place in the universe. When at the Grand Canyon, for example, the idea is to walk slow and take in the view. Or when getting in touch with your spirituality as you slowly stroll to the local church. These are all plausible scenarios in which “Sunday Walking” is deemed acceptable. However, there is no balance out here. Even when walking from a restaurant to a shop along a busy highway, they walk like they’re in a park feeding the ducks. And do not use the excuse they’re just enjoying life – life is a journey, not a destination, if you will – because when I’m running errands or walking on a busy street or trying to get somewhere with the sun slowly melting my skin away, the absolute last thing I want to do is take a nice stroll around town. I want to finish up so I actually can go enjoy life.
Not to mention, there is an extreme affinity amongst the population to adopt a herd-like mentality; meaning, no one walks alone (which of course makes the sole short-wearing American jaunting around town all the more awkward). So these huge groups of people will be creating this massive slow-moving barrier which is positively impossible to navigate around, making every errand or walk around town four times longer than it should be. It’s like a human traffic jam purposely trying to slow things down in the city, ala the massive bike rallies in San Francisco.
What’s worse, there is absolutely zero walking when on an escalator. Escalators are for standing on and being moved in a nice, relaxed fashion. The ultimate problem here, though, is that they don’t start walking once they’re off the escalators. What the hell are you supposed to do when you’re about to step off an escalator and there’s a horde of people standing there wondering where to crawl to next? Of course, oddly, I seem to be the only person that takes issue to this quandary. Somehow, as the one American in the mall goes barreling through peaceful families standing pat like a fricking bowling ball through bowling pins, everyone else glides in and out, apparently by the grace of Allah. Oddly, as I’ve mentioned several times, once they get back behind the wheel, all shit hits the fan. I just read, however, that the legislature is passing new traffic and public transportation bills, so apparently, I’m not the only one who finds a woman driving backwards on the highway slightly ridiculous.
Also, some real interesting articles:
http://www.economist.com/opinion/displaystory.cfm?story_id=11670357
http://www.economist.com/world/africa/displaystory.cfm?story_id=11670939
I’ll be the first to admit, lollygagging has its place in the universe. When at the Grand Canyon, for example, the idea is to walk slow and take in the view. Or when getting in touch with your spirituality as you slowly stroll to the local church. These are all plausible scenarios in which “Sunday Walking” is deemed acceptable. However, there is no balance out here. Even when walking from a restaurant to a shop along a busy highway, they walk like they’re in a park feeding the ducks. And do not use the excuse they’re just enjoying life – life is a journey, not a destination, if you will – because when I’m running errands or walking on a busy street or trying to get somewhere with the sun slowly melting my skin away, the absolute last thing I want to do is take a nice stroll around town. I want to finish up so I actually can go enjoy life.
Not to mention, there is an extreme affinity amongst the population to adopt a herd-like mentality; meaning, no one walks alone (which of course makes the sole short-wearing American jaunting around town all the more awkward). So these huge groups of people will be creating this massive slow-moving barrier which is positively impossible to navigate around, making every errand or walk around town four times longer than it should be. It’s like a human traffic jam purposely trying to slow things down in the city, ala the massive bike rallies in San Francisco.
What’s worse, there is absolutely zero walking when on an escalator. Escalators are for standing on and being moved in a nice, relaxed fashion. The ultimate problem here, though, is that they don’t start walking once they’re off the escalators. What the hell are you supposed to do when you’re about to step off an escalator and there’s a horde of people standing there wondering where to crawl to next? Of course, oddly, I seem to be the only person that takes issue to this quandary. Somehow, as the one American in the mall goes barreling through peaceful families standing pat like a fricking bowling ball through bowling pins, everyone else glides in and out, apparently by the grace of Allah. Oddly, as I’ve mentioned several times, once they get back behind the wheel, all shit hits the fan. I just read, however, that the legislature is passing new traffic and public transportation bills, so apparently, I’m not the only one who finds a woman driving backwards on the highway slightly ridiculous.
Also, some real interesting articles:
http://www.economist.com/opinion/displaystory.cfm?story_id=11670357
http://www.economist.com/world/africa/displaystory.cfm?story_id=11670939
Friday, July 4, 2008
The Streets of New York...
Before I left for Jordan, several people confronted me.
“Dave, why Jordan? You know how dangerous it is out there?”
It’s true, in a sense, that the region is relatively unstable and could erupt – seemingly – at any given moment. However, there is certainly another reality that not enough people realize. We have the very unfortunate consequence of a free press that has grasped the unholy truth that violence sells. Danger sells. Explosions that claim nine lives in a fiery car bomb sells.
But there is a certain peace and calm in Jordan while walking around at night that I have only experienced in two other places: one in my very suburban home community of Baywood Estates, a veritable paradise for yuppy families to enjoy the safe life of Minivans and gardeners, and Israel.
It is a sadly unknown fact that the crime rate in these countries is virtually nonexistent (unless you leave your backpack open near a bunch of Bedouins, long story…). In these highly religious countries, crime is either against the faith or punishable by very unsavory policies. And yet, with the bombing of a hotel or the mad rampage of a man and his tractor, headlines tell us to stay away from these nations.
Again, sadly, these free and objective headlines play right into the hands of the Islamist movement. A definition of terrorism, as provided by my professor Jeffrey Bale, (this is a paraphrase if he ever happens to read this), is violence or the threat of violence against a target of symbolic significance with the intention of making a third party act differently in order to bring about a change. Meaning, for example, going into an extremely peaceful neighborhood and blowing up a bus to force other people to no longer want to take the bus and sending a message to the rest of the world that the city is a dangerous place.
However, while the threat of a bomb going off in a local coffee shop looms, the threat of danger seems practically nonexistent. I felt far more likely to get mugged and stabbed walking in New York City or Berkeley or Denver or – hell – Monterey. Perhaps more accurate reporting would be, “Four die in Israeli terrorist attack while 6 million survive night in New York.”
Not to mention, against all the stereotypes I heard before coming here, the cordiality of Middle Easterners is unlike anything I’ve experienced in the United States. For example, I got lost. Surprise, surprise. I was making numerous mad dashes across highways to figure out where to obtain a visa, when I finally dropped my manliness and asked someone where the hell I was. A man, finally figuring out what the hell I was asking about, finally told me where to go, but unsure of himself told me to pull out a pen and paper so he could write down his address.
“Look,” he said, “if you get lost, get a taxi to take you to my house and I’ll help you. Or, for anything. If you need any help, just come find me. And welcome to Jordan!”
Besides the fact he basically gave me the wrong advice, where else would you find that kind of hospitality?
“Dave, why Jordan? You know how dangerous it is out there?”
It’s true, in a sense, that the region is relatively unstable and could erupt – seemingly – at any given moment. However, there is certainly another reality that not enough people realize. We have the very unfortunate consequence of a free press that has grasped the unholy truth that violence sells. Danger sells. Explosions that claim nine lives in a fiery car bomb sells.
But there is a certain peace and calm in Jordan while walking around at night that I have only experienced in two other places: one in my very suburban home community of Baywood Estates, a veritable paradise for yuppy families to enjoy the safe life of Minivans and gardeners, and Israel.
It is a sadly unknown fact that the crime rate in these countries is virtually nonexistent (unless you leave your backpack open near a bunch of Bedouins, long story…). In these highly religious countries, crime is either against the faith or punishable by very unsavory policies. And yet, with the bombing of a hotel or the mad rampage of a man and his tractor, headlines tell us to stay away from these nations.
Again, sadly, these free and objective headlines play right into the hands of the Islamist movement. A definition of terrorism, as provided by my professor Jeffrey Bale, (this is a paraphrase if he ever happens to read this), is violence or the threat of violence against a target of symbolic significance with the intention of making a third party act differently in order to bring about a change. Meaning, for example, going into an extremely peaceful neighborhood and blowing up a bus to force other people to no longer want to take the bus and sending a message to the rest of the world that the city is a dangerous place.
However, while the threat of a bomb going off in a local coffee shop looms, the threat of danger seems practically nonexistent. I felt far more likely to get mugged and stabbed walking in New York City or Berkeley or Denver or – hell – Monterey. Perhaps more accurate reporting would be, “Four die in Israeli terrorist attack while 6 million survive night in New York.”
Not to mention, against all the stereotypes I heard before coming here, the cordiality of Middle Easterners is unlike anything I’ve experienced in the United States. For example, I got lost. Surprise, surprise. I was making numerous mad dashes across highways to figure out where to obtain a visa, when I finally dropped my manliness and asked someone where the hell I was. A man, finally figuring out what the hell I was asking about, finally told me where to go, but unsure of himself told me to pull out a pen and paper so he could write down his address.
“Look,” he said, “if you get lost, get a taxi to take you to my house and I’ll help you. Or, for anything. If you need any help, just come find me. And welcome to Jordan!”
Besides the fact he basically gave me the wrong advice, where else would you find that kind of hospitality?
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Worth Reading...
Check this article out from 2001... Extremely disconcerting, but those people who don't think we're playing right into the Islamist movement hands, perhaps this could be a counter-argument.
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9401E2DC123FF937A25753C1A9679C8B63
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9401E2DC123FF937A25753C1A9679C8B63
Lessons From the King...
Despite being a small country stuck in the middle of a very large problem area, a number of lessons can be learned if we all took a step back to look at what is truly taking place here.
King Abdullah has managed to befriend every country in the Middle East. It is so friendly with Iraq that it practically got free oil. In return, and perhaps to provide some stability, the two countries are working on ways to bring water to perpetual warzone. Then, while Saddam was lobbing rockets at Israel and Iran speaks constantly about wiping Israel from the map (which, admittedly, is taken slightly out of context, but as our newspapers are so quick to realize, it sells), Jordan turns around and befriends the Middle East Pariah. The king manages to keep this friendship intact despite the majority of the Jordanian population being Palestinian, and most of the people choosing not to recognize Israel (my roommate just spoke with a man that told him to go visit Haifa, the most beautiful city in Palestine).
Meanwhile, as the world suffers from the oil crisis and Israel and the US biting at the bit to wipe Iran off the map, King Abdullah signs major contracts with European nations about creating nuclear energy for peaceful purposes. Jordan is well-equipped with natural Uranium, and by constructing these reactors, it not only provides an example of what a Middle East country can achieve in terms of nuclear power while also placing itself in extremely good graces with the West, it is going to utilize the additional power to fuel water desalination plants to tackle the impending water crisis. With so much additional electricity, it will hopefully be in a position to even sell some of the power to surrounding nations.
Not to mention, while being surrounded by Palestine, Syria, Saudi Arabia and Iraq, with Egypt and Iran not too far away, the Jordanian government has devised a way to bring Islamist terrorism practically to a screeching halt (the 2006 al Qaeda attacks being the lone exception in recent years).
This of course is not saying that Jordan is not very much a third world country and is very much governed like a third world country. However, the one way to create a thriving nation is to make friends, figure out how to power the nation, and invite investment. King Abdullah has quite successfully been chipping away at all three.
With any luck, these successes will make the newly planned economic zones dispersed around the country just the tip of the iceberg. Perhaps George Bush chose the wrong country to point as at the future of Middle Eastern democracy.
King Abdullah has managed to befriend every country in the Middle East. It is so friendly with Iraq that it practically got free oil. In return, and perhaps to provide some stability, the two countries are working on ways to bring water to perpetual warzone. Then, while Saddam was lobbing rockets at Israel and Iran speaks constantly about wiping Israel from the map (which, admittedly, is taken slightly out of context, but as our newspapers are so quick to realize, it sells), Jordan turns around and befriends the Middle East Pariah. The king manages to keep this friendship intact despite the majority of the Jordanian population being Palestinian, and most of the people choosing not to recognize Israel (my roommate just spoke with a man that told him to go visit Haifa, the most beautiful city in Palestine).
Meanwhile, as the world suffers from the oil crisis and Israel and the US biting at the bit to wipe Iran off the map, King Abdullah signs major contracts with European nations about creating nuclear energy for peaceful purposes. Jordan is well-equipped with natural Uranium, and by constructing these reactors, it not only provides an example of what a Middle East country can achieve in terms of nuclear power while also placing itself in extremely good graces with the West, it is going to utilize the additional power to fuel water desalination plants to tackle the impending water crisis. With so much additional electricity, it will hopefully be in a position to even sell some of the power to surrounding nations.
Not to mention, while being surrounded by Palestine, Syria, Saudi Arabia and Iraq, with Egypt and Iran not too far away, the Jordanian government has devised a way to bring Islamist terrorism practically to a screeching halt (the 2006 al Qaeda attacks being the lone exception in recent years).
This of course is not saying that Jordan is not very much a third world country and is very much governed like a third world country. However, the one way to create a thriving nation is to make friends, figure out how to power the nation, and invite investment. King Abdullah has quite successfully been chipping away at all three.
With any luck, these successes will make the newly planned economic zones dispersed around the country just the tip of the iceberg. Perhaps George Bush chose the wrong country to point as at the future of Middle Eastern democracy.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Wake Up Calls...
A large part in my choosing my place of residence for the summer, besides the 513 non-English speaking channels, is because there is a massive mosque about a block away. I knew that by choosing this specific locale, I wouldn’t have to worry about the dreadful prospects of getting a good night’s sleep.
You see, out in this part of the world, all of the lovely mosques come fully equipped with large minarets booming upwards to the sky. These picturesque towers are not meant to be flashy or to show the power of Allah (which would be a form of blasphemy in Islam), but to create a nesting spot for several loud speakers higher above the city’s relatively short building code. One of the five pillars of Islam, Salat, calls for good Muslims to wash themselves, face Mecca, kneel, and pray five times a day. The loud speakers of the mosques are so that the local prayer leader (not sure if it’s the Imam, Mullah, or Sheikh) can not only address the people who come to pray, but to tell the entirety of the community that it is time to stop what you’re doing and honor the Lord. Apparently, this also means discontinue sleeping. The first prayer time comes sometime between 3:30 and 4:00 AM. Thus, I am pulled out of my peaceful slumber by Aaaaaahhhhh, Aaaaaahhh, Allah al-Akbarrrrrrrr!! It is slightly resembling of Monterey when the Defense Language Institute plays taps at 5:00 and 10:00 PM on the dot across the entire city. Of course, what I just suggested is that instead of God, Americans worship the war machine, but I meant no offense.
Certainly, arising at this hour and listening to the chanting of the Muslim prayer isn’t horrific. There is a sort of peace involved in the routine of an entire country – if not an entire region – lifting themselves out of bed to commit themselves to a sole purpose. It has become a certainty when I fall asleep that I will wake up to the soothing sounds of knowing God is great. It’s almost like sleep-hypnosis, if you will.
I also know that around midnight I will be awoken by sharp cracks and bright flashes. Apparently, this time of year is wedding season in Jordan, and at Jordanian weddings, it is customary to set off fireworks to honor the new couple (usually involving a bride who is eerily completely covered in white robes and a big pointy hood, so the wedding photos are of a man who is ecstatic to begin his new life clinging onto what can only be thought of as the fundamental offspring of the founders of the Ku Klux Klan). You can only imagine my surprise the first night when I snapped out of bed to the multiple cracks of something extremely loud.
“Oh my God,” I thought, “Did I arrive in Jordan for the uprising of Islamic militants, gleefully firing their AK-47s into the air as they overthrow the government?”
I figured regardless of the culprit, I was safe enough if I pulled the covers a little bit tighter and prayed that God was watching over me so I would safely return home to my family.
Queue: “Allah al-Akbar, Allah al-Akbar.”
“Thank God,” I thought again as I drifted back to sleep,” I suppose he’s watching after all.”
You see, out in this part of the world, all of the lovely mosques come fully equipped with large minarets booming upwards to the sky. These picturesque towers are not meant to be flashy or to show the power of Allah (which would be a form of blasphemy in Islam), but to create a nesting spot for several loud speakers higher above the city’s relatively short building code. One of the five pillars of Islam, Salat, calls for good Muslims to wash themselves, face Mecca, kneel, and pray five times a day. The loud speakers of the mosques are so that the local prayer leader (not sure if it’s the Imam, Mullah, or Sheikh) can not only address the people who come to pray, but to tell the entirety of the community that it is time to stop what you’re doing and honor the Lord. Apparently, this also means discontinue sleeping. The first prayer time comes sometime between 3:30 and 4:00 AM. Thus, I am pulled out of my peaceful slumber by Aaaaaahhhhh, Aaaaaahhh, Allah al-Akbarrrrrrrr!! It is slightly resembling of Monterey when the Defense Language Institute plays taps at 5:00 and 10:00 PM on the dot across the entire city. Of course, what I just suggested is that instead of God, Americans worship the war machine, but I meant no offense.
Certainly, arising at this hour and listening to the chanting of the Muslim prayer isn’t horrific. There is a sort of peace involved in the routine of an entire country – if not an entire region – lifting themselves out of bed to commit themselves to a sole purpose. It has become a certainty when I fall asleep that I will wake up to the soothing sounds of knowing God is great. It’s almost like sleep-hypnosis, if you will.
I also know that around midnight I will be awoken by sharp cracks and bright flashes. Apparently, this time of year is wedding season in Jordan, and at Jordanian weddings, it is customary to set off fireworks to honor the new couple (usually involving a bride who is eerily completely covered in white robes and a big pointy hood, so the wedding photos are of a man who is ecstatic to begin his new life clinging onto what can only be thought of as the fundamental offspring of the founders of the Ku Klux Klan). You can only imagine my surprise the first night when I snapped out of bed to the multiple cracks of something extremely loud.
“Oh my God,” I thought, “Did I arrive in Jordan for the uprising of Islamic militants, gleefully firing their AK-47s into the air as they overthrow the government?”
I figured regardless of the culprit, I was safe enough if I pulled the covers a little bit tighter and prayed that God was watching over me so I would safely return home to my family.
Queue: “Allah al-Akbar, Allah al-Akbar.”
“Thank God,” I thought again as I drifted back to sleep,” I suppose he’s watching after all.”
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Killer Donkeys...
Today marks the second time in as many weeks that a donkey was the focal point of an attempt on my life. While pissed and slightly embarrassed I allow myself to be put in these situations, it is worth mentioning.
I was walking from my apartment to the Mecca Mall to enjoy some authentic Jordanian food for dinner – KFC – when I noticed a donkey standing on the side of the highway. Now, Amman is not Petra. The city does not have an abundance of “air-conditioned taxis” trotting along the streets, so in and of itself, I found it to be bizarre that a donkey was standing quietly on the side of a very busy highway. Then, I noticed the donkey was not alone, but was standing on top of a man – or rather, the donkey stood there while a man slid underneath the animal. Again, bizarre, but not completely outrageous. But then, I saw quite distinctly that the man had a frickin’ wrench in his hand, and appeared to be, in one way or another, “working” on his “ride.”
While this was happening, I was simultaneously consumed with crossing the said highway. As many of you know from previous posts, not an easy task even for the sharpest of people. Now, the highway, naturally, has two sides to is divided by a barrier. The roads are one way on each side. So, while crossing, it only makes sense to look in the direction of the oncoming traffic. I learned the hard way that in Jordan, nothing is as it seems. As I quite professionally mapped out my path through the traffic while curiously watching the man “fine tune” his donkey, I logically didn’t notice the sole car driving backwards into the oncoming traffic! Apparently, when people miss their turn in Jordan, you don’t drive back around as in America. You hit the brakes, back it up, and make your turn. How was I supposed to know I was supposed to account for the possibility of reversals when I made my mad dash through traffic? Perhaps if I had my wits about me and wasn’t fully consumed by a man, his donkey, and a wrench, I could have sensed my impending doom, but alas, I was too intrigued by the soft squeal let out by the donkey as one of his lug nuts was tightened back into place. As it were, the car missed my toes by about two and a half inches, and I certainly learned an invaluable lesson. Even as my Englarabic improves ever so slightly, my skills in cultural communication is far from fluent.
In other news, a big music festival is set to take place in Amman this summer, and yet several of the artists are beginning to back out, citing, “Normalization with Israel.” Interesting that even in the one country on good terms with Israel, it is practically taboo to give the impression you are interested in peace. Unfortunately for Jordan, it sits directly in the middle of Iran and Israel, meaning any potential missile that falls in the event of a future conflict had better be accurate, and Jordanians had better be praying that the winds are blowing out to sea. Perhaps more than any other nation in the Middle East, it would be extremely beneficial to the future survival of the country if Israel were to normalize its relation with the rest of the region. This, however, appears to be extremely wishful thinking.
To end things, let me impart a little bit of wisdom passed down from my Grandfather’s own worldly experiences: “It’s not always in your best interest to pet a sleeping walrus just to make sure it isn’t dead.”
I was walking from my apartment to the Mecca Mall to enjoy some authentic Jordanian food for dinner – KFC – when I noticed a donkey standing on the side of the highway. Now, Amman is not Petra. The city does not have an abundance of “air-conditioned taxis” trotting along the streets, so in and of itself, I found it to be bizarre that a donkey was standing quietly on the side of a very busy highway. Then, I noticed the donkey was not alone, but was standing on top of a man – or rather, the donkey stood there while a man slid underneath the animal. Again, bizarre, but not completely outrageous. But then, I saw quite distinctly that the man had a frickin’ wrench in his hand, and appeared to be, in one way or another, “working” on his “ride.”
While this was happening, I was simultaneously consumed with crossing the said highway. As many of you know from previous posts, not an easy task even for the sharpest of people. Now, the highway, naturally, has two sides to is divided by a barrier. The roads are one way on each side. So, while crossing, it only makes sense to look in the direction of the oncoming traffic. I learned the hard way that in Jordan, nothing is as it seems. As I quite professionally mapped out my path through the traffic while curiously watching the man “fine tune” his donkey, I logically didn’t notice the sole car driving backwards into the oncoming traffic! Apparently, when people miss their turn in Jordan, you don’t drive back around as in America. You hit the brakes, back it up, and make your turn. How was I supposed to know I was supposed to account for the possibility of reversals when I made my mad dash through traffic? Perhaps if I had my wits about me and wasn’t fully consumed by a man, his donkey, and a wrench, I could have sensed my impending doom, but alas, I was too intrigued by the soft squeal let out by the donkey as one of his lug nuts was tightened back into place. As it were, the car missed my toes by about two and a half inches, and I certainly learned an invaluable lesson. Even as my Englarabic improves ever so slightly, my skills in cultural communication is far from fluent.
In other news, a big music festival is set to take place in Amman this summer, and yet several of the artists are beginning to back out, citing, “Normalization with Israel.” Interesting that even in the one country on good terms with Israel, it is practically taboo to give the impression you are interested in peace. Unfortunately for Jordan, it sits directly in the middle of Iran and Israel, meaning any potential missile that falls in the event of a future conflict had better be accurate, and Jordanians had better be praying that the winds are blowing out to sea. Perhaps more than any other nation in the Middle East, it would be extremely beneficial to the future survival of the country if Israel were to normalize its relation with the rest of the region. This, however, appears to be extremely wishful thinking.
To end things, let me impart a little bit of wisdom passed down from my Grandfather’s own worldly experiences: “It’s not always in your best interest to pet a sleeping walrus just to make sure it isn’t dead.”
Monday, June 30, 2008
The Woman Who waves...
I read about a rather disconcerting reality in a Jordanian travel guide. Several women gave personal accounts of being harassed in Jordan, and yet, what is disturbing about their stories is not the actual harassment (which is obviously always bad), but the expected submission of these women. While supposedly given free and equal rights throughout Jordan, it is not considered proper for women to engage males. It is absolutely out of the question for a “lady” to show any skin, and here’s the cherry on top: men can legally prevent a female family member from leaving the country. This was actually a travel warning for women visiting Jordan who have relatives who are Jordanian citizens. The Jordanian male can tell a female American citizen she cannot leave the country if they are related. The personal accounts I read from American females in the country mentioned how happy the Jordanian women were when engaged by the Americans. Just to be noticed and treated as a human being seemed to make their day.
I for one have had a similar experience. Every day I pass by an old woman who sits in the same place from morning till night selling little bags of what appears to be spinach. She doesn’t speak a word of English, wears the same red and white head covering, and silently chants to herself – presumably Islamic prayers – until a person approaches her for business. While I have as yet see anyone approach her for business, every day she has made a little bit more eye contact with me, and we are on official Ahlan (hello) terms complete with a wave and a smile. It’s hard not to wonder exactly what her story is. Does she really survive on the fruits of pennies a day? Does her husband send her out to sell his garden’s harvest? For how many years has she had the exact same Hijab? At any rate, she waves at me, and I find it to be progress. Regardless, though, I have an extremely difficult time being in a place where women are just all around regarded as inferior, even if in the cultural sense of the attitude, I don’t think the treatment is regarded as inferiority.
On another note, I am continually baffled at how the media treats extremely sensitive issues. This is going to make me sound extremely pro-Israel, but bear with me. An al-Jazeera headline reads, “Israeli Soldiers Kill Palestinian Teenager.” This exact same headline could have read, “Palestinian Teenagers Shower Israeli Soldiers With Homemade Bombs.” There is absolutely no justice or necessity for Middle Eastern media to portray Israel as the Big Bad Wolf just as there is no justice or necessity for American media to treat Israel as the Savior of the Middle East. I am still incredibly interested in finding some true, objective reporting on the issue, but that seems to be in the realm of the unattainable.
I for one have had a similar experience. Every day I pass by an old woman who sits in the same place from morning till night selling little bags of what appears to be spinach. She doesn’t speak a word of English, wears the same red and white head covering, and silently chants to herself – presumably Islamic prayers – until a person approaches her for business. While I have as yet see anyone approach her for business, every day she has made a little bit more eye contact with me, and we are on official Ahlan (hello) terms complete with a wave and a smile. It’s hard not to wonder exactly what her story is. Does she really survive on the fruits of pennies a day? Does her husband send her out to sell his garden’s harvest? For how many years has she had the exact same Hijab? At any rate, she waves at me, and I find it to be progress. Regardless, though, I have an extremely difficult time being in a place where women are just all around regarded as inferior, even if in the cultural sense of the attitude, I don’t think the treatment is regarded as inferiority.
On another note, I am continually baffled at how the media treats extremely sensitive issues. This is going to make me sound extremely pro-Israel, but bear with me. An al-Jazeera headline reads, “Israeli Soldiers Kill Palestinian Teenager.” This exact same headline could have read, “Palestinian Teenagers Shower Israeli Soldiers With Homemade Bombs.” There is absolutely no justice or necessity for Middle Eastern media to portray Israel as the Big Bad Wolf just as there is no justice or necessity for American media to treat Israel as the Savior of the Middle East. I am still incredibly interested in finding some true, objective reporting on the issue, but that seems to be in the realm of the unattainable.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Minor Complaints...
Ok, for those of you know me well (and probably those of you who don’t know me all that well), you know I like to complain. I don’t know why, but I whine about anything and everything. It’s like drugs: the more I do it, the more I want, and the more concerned other people become.
With that said, there’re a few things I need to complain about, so bear with me.
1) I’m horribly, incredibly sick. The inside of my stomach feels like it is on fire. If you need me to go into more detail, send me a personal email and I’ll elaborate.
2) Besides the oddly large population of skinny, stray cats (honestly, it’s just bizarre. I almost wonder if there’s some strange conspiracy at work here, like a new American method on the War on Terror: “let’s just cuddle ‘em to submission…”), everywhere you look, someone is washing their car. Now let’s think about this for a moment. Jordan is one of the four most water poor nations in the entire world. How do they use the precious commodity? By washing their frickin’ cars. Never mind the fact they’re in the middle of THE DESERT! Never mind the fact there is so much sand and grime in the air that when I get home, I feel like I can scrape it all off my skin with a spoon. Never mind the fact most of the cars are taxis and besides the fact they’re not exactly Ferraris, not too many people are going to wave a cab on when they need a ride because the car is too dirty. I want to take the buckets of water they use to endlessly scrub down their “rides” and throw it in their face in the hopes they’ll wake up. Not to mention, some of the younger men will have a sort of car washing party where five or six of them will get together and wash down their taxis, all the while standing back to admire their identical taxis.
3) This one just drives me crazy. No one says hi to one another on the street. I’ve tried several times to casually say good morning to someone (yes, I had shorts on), and they look at me like I just insulted their mother. I very mistakenly waved at a couple of people on the road, and their thoughts were so palpable, they’re worth mentioning. The first person looked at me as if saying, “No, I’m not taxi, Asshole.” The other person looked me and then thought to himself, “All praise be to Allah, that American just cast a spell on me.” So it’s a dilemma because I always feel guilty if I walk past someone and don’t acknowledge him or her. I suppose I’ll just have to continue casting spells on people…
4) This one isn’t so much a complaint as a, “Oh dear Lord, you are so dumb” story. In Jordan, when you walk down the road, if a cab drives past you without a person already on the meter, he’ll honk at you. It’s a way of communicating. One honk means he wants to know if you need a ride. Two honks mean don’t dare step on the road because I’ll run your ass over. Now with this in mind, I was talking to this girl who was also upset about what she was supposed to be wearing, and she ended her complaint by saying, “I mean, no matter what I wear, the cabs still honk at me when they drive by.” What do you say to this? Do you ignore it? Do you agree with her? Do you politely tell her how dumb she is and explain that the cabs honk at anyone and everyone, and yes, it does not matter what the person is wearing?
I would have added the fact no one wear’s shorts, but if you don’t know how I feel about that by now, I would have a fifth thing to complain about.
With that said, there’re a few things I need to complain about, so bear with me.
1) I’m horribly, incredibly sick. The inside of my stomach feels like it is on fire. If you need me to go into more detail, send me a personal email and I’ll elaborate.
2) Besides the oddly large population of skinny, stray cats (honestly, it’s just bizarre. I almost wonder if there’s some strange conspiracy at work here, like a new American method on the War on Terror: “let’s just cuddle ‘em to submission…”), everywhere you look, someone is washing their car. Now let’s think about this for a moment. Jordan is one of the four most water poor nations in the entire world. How do they use the precious commodity? By washing their frickin’ cars. Never mind the fact they’re in the middle of THE DESERT! Never mind the fact there is so much sand and grime in the air that when I get home, I feel like I can scrape it all off my skin with a spoon. Never mind the fact most of the cars are taxis and besides the fact they’re not exactly Ferraris, not too many people are going to wave a cab on when they need a ride because the car is too dirty. I want to take the buckets of water they use to endlessly scrub down their “rides” and throw it in their face in the hopes they’ll wake up. Not to mention, some of the younger men will have a sort of car washing party where five or six of them will get together and wash down their taxis, all the while standing back to admire their identical taxis.
3) This one just drives me crazy. No one says hi to one another on the street. I’ve tried several times to casually say good morning to someone (yes, I had shorts on), and they look at me like I just insulted their mother. I very mistakenly waved at a couple of people on the road, and their thoughts were so palpable, they’re worth mentioning. The first person looked at me as if saying, “No, I’m not taxi, Asshole.” The other person looked me and then thought to himself, “All praise be to Allah, that American just cast a spell on me.” So it’s a dilemma because I always feel guilty if I walk past someone and don’t acknowledge him or her. I suppose I’ll just have to continue casting spells on people…
4) This one isn’t so much a complaint as a, “Oh dear Lord, you are so dumb” story. In Jordan, when you walk down the road, if a cab drives past you without a person already on the meter, he’ll honk at you. It’s a way of communicating. One honk means he wants to know if you need a ride. Two honks mean don’t dare step on the road because I’ll run your ass over. Now with this in mind, I was talking to this girl who was also upset about what she was supposed to be wearing, and she ended her complaint by saying, “I mean, no matter what I wear, the cabs still honk at me when they drive by.” What do you say to this? Do you ignore it? Do you agree with her? Do you politely tell her how dumb she is and explain that the cabs honk at anyone and everyone, and yes, it does not matter what the person is wearing?
I would have added the fact no one wear’s shorts, but if you don’t know how I feel about that by now, I would have a fifth thing to complain about.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Angry People...
I sought out and managed to find a very American hang out today, reinforcing my own worldly dilemma of continually trying to find my comfort zone. Sometimes, it can be as simple as eating a Quarter Pounder from McDonalds. Sometimes, it can be diving into a book or writing emails to friends and family. And sometimes, it is seeking out a place where Americans are. A local expat hangout if you will.
Books@Cafe is literally a small slice of America in the middle of Jordan. American books, an American-style pub, an American-style café and restaurant outside. The waitresses don’t even speak fluent Arabic. Take Anna, for example, our American waitress from Minnesota who woke up one day, assessed her life, and decided to move to Jordan, study Arabic, and work at an American-style café. How exactly does that happen? Where is the breaking point where the most obvious answer is to move to Jordan?
On another note, I took a cab in an all day search to figure out how to get a longer visa, and had a very interesting encounter with a Palestinian cab driver. Naturally assuming I was English (after at first thinking I was French…), this man who spoke broken English felt free to lecture me on the horrors of America and Israel.
“You know, I really hate Israelis and Americans,” he said. “It’s our land, and they take it for their own. We come to a truce, and the first thing the Israelis do it break it by killing people.”
Interestingly, he failed to mention the fact the Palestinians actually broke the cease fire by firing rockets into Israeli communities. He continued. I, perhaps wisely, smiled and kept my mouth shut.
“Any Arab who agrees to peace, I will never forgive. For my entire life, he will not be forgiven. No peace. They kill, kill, kill. If only the Arabs would finally stand together, Israel would be gone in a week. But they won’t come together. Some people like aid from Iran, some from America. Different interests.”
As he went on for the entirety of the cab ride, I came close to mentioning the fact the Arab nations had come together against Israel in the 1967 War, a war that Israel won in less than a week. I came close to mentioning that if the Arab nations came together and attacked Israel, those countries would be irreparably damaged. I came close to asking how he felt about his beloved Arab cities being incinerated underneath a nuclear mushroom cloud should the Arab world decide to attack Israel. I came close, but I kept my mouth shut.
I am not a fervent supporter of Israel. I believe the country has some of the most heinous foreign policies in existence and continue to build illegal settlements in the face of possible peace negotiations. I am also not a fervent supporter of Palestine. I believe if the Palestinian people would accept reality, recognize the legitimacy of Israel and reap the benefits of one of the biggest economies in the world, they would grow strong enough to actually create a legitimate state that could rival Israel’s. Instead, they fire rockets into Israel, directly creating brutal conditions for their own people that are considered practically unlivable by the United Nations.
Obviously, there is more to the picture, from religious entitlements to blind hatred, but the point I want to make is that I personally can never accept a person who does not accept the possibility of peaceful negotiations. I will attempt to empathize with them, but in the end, someone who has war on the mind, whether it’s religiously motivated (especially if its religiously motivated) or for another reason, is not interested in the advancement of the world, does not want a better life for the majority of the people, and in my opinion, cannot possibly have interpreted the word of God properly (if motivated by religion).
This is unfortunately the world we now live in. How do you possibly come to terms with blind hatred?
Books@Cafe is literally a small slice of America in the middle of Jordan. American books, an American-style pub, an American-style café and restaurant outside. The waitresses don’t even speak fluent Arabic. Take Anna, for example, our American waitress from Minnesota who woke up one day, assessed her life, and decided to move to Jordan, study Arabic, and work at an American-style café. How exactly does that happen? Where is the breaking point where the most obvious answer is to move to Jordan?
On another note, I took a cab in an all day search to figure out how to get a longer visa, and had a very interesting encounter with a Palestinian cab driver. Naturally assuming I was English (after at first thinking I was French…), this man who spoke broken English felt free to lecture me on the horrors of America and Israel.
“You know, I really hate Israelis and Americans,” he said. “It’s our land, and they take it for their own. We come to a truce, and the first thing the Israelis do it break it by killing people.”
Interestingly, he failed to mention the fact the Palestinians actually broke the cease fire by firing rockets into Israeli communities. He continued. I, perhaps wisely, smiled and kept my mouth shut.
“Any Arab who agrees to peace, I will never forgive. For my entire life, he will not be forgiven. No peace. They kill, kill, kill. If only the Arabs would finally stand together, Israel would be gone in a week. But they won’t come together. Some people like aid from Iran, some from America. Different interests.”
As he went on for the entirety of the cab ride, I came close to mentioning the fact the Arab nations had come together against Israel in the 1967 War, a war that Israel won in less than a week. I came close to mentioning that if the Arab nations came together and attacked Israel, those countries would be irreparably damaged. I came close to asking how he felt about his beloved Arab cities being incinerated underneath a nuclear mushroom cloud should the Arab world decide to attack Israel. I came close, but I kept my mouth shut.
I am not a fervent supporter of Israel. I believe the country has some of the most heinous foreign policies in existence and continue to build illegal settlements in the face of possible peace negotiations. I am also not a fervent supporter of Palestine. I believe if the Palestinian people would accept reality, recognize the legitimacy of Israel and reap the benefits of one of the biggest economies in the world, they would grow strong enough to actually create a legitimate state that could rival Israel’s. Instead, they fire rockets into Israel, directly creating brutal conditions for their own people that are considered practically unlivable by the United Nations.
Obviously, there is more to the picture, from religious entitlements to blind hatred, but the point I want to make is that I personally can never accept a person who does not accept the possibility of peaceful negotiations. I will attempt to empathize with them, but in the end, someone who has war on the mind, whether it’s religiously motivated (especially if its religiously motivated) or for another reason, is not interested in the advancement of the world, does not want a better life for the majority of the people, and in my opinion, cannot possibly have interpreted the word of God properly (if motivated by religion).
This is unfortunately the world we now live in. How do you possibly come to terms with blind hatred?
Thursday, June 26, 2008
The Alcohol Post...
Dave’s guide to buying alcohol in the Middle East:1) If at all possible, don’t do it.
2) If you absolutely have to do it, don’t dress conspicuously, don’t walk on any main streets, and avoid eye contact.
3) The lower the sun, the less visible the alcohol.
4) Try not to already be drunk, unless you run into someone who gives you trouble about the fact you’re buying alcohol in the Middle east, at which time play it off like you’re so drunk, you don’t actually realize you’re buying alcohol in the Middle East.
5) If someone continues to give you trouble, don’t offer them a beer as a token of peace.
6) If all else fails, say you’re on a mission from Allah and are using it for Martyr-esqe activities.
7) If you manage to make it with the alcohol intact, consume, and enjoy the fact you’re drinking a cheap bottle of rum in the middle of the most religious region in the world.
8) When you finish off the bottle, read Step 1.
Speaking of which, it seems appropriate to add in the alcohol post, has anyone ever taken the time to watch BBC for more than a few minutes at a time? See, I have a lot of downtime from class, and it’s typically so hot out that sitting indoors doesn’t make me feel quite as guilty as sitting on my couch in Monterey watching endless reruns of Scrubs, so I get the opportunity to watch the news out here. Ok, let’s take this dilemma of mine step by step. I was sold on this apartment with a selling point of, “And, it has satellite tv with over 500 channels!”
“500 channels,” I thought to myself, “Jackpot!”
Had I been smart enough to read the fine print, I would have noticed the catch which says, “Two of which are English speaking channels.”
No problem, I told myself. I’m here to speak Arabic anyways and I need to learn to roll with the punches. Well, there’s only so much I can take of watching 513 channels in a language I can’t understand and I have yet to find a Scrubs DVD with Arabic subtitles, so I naturally come back to Channel 3 – BBC – or Channel 8 – English al Jazeera.
Now, I was under the impression there was a lot of news to report on, but apparently, only about five, sometimes as many as seven stories make the cut each day. Anyone out there who goes off about the fair, timely, and accurate reporting of BBC and al Jazeera has never watched more than 15 minutes of the actual channel. The stories will go from “The North Korean Nuclear Issue!!!” to “How One Former Crack Addict Changed Her Life Around.” I already have a pretty good idea of the life of a BBC reporter. Hit record, set on loop, let’s get some drinks.
What al Jazeera should have reported on is the fact there was a cloud in the sky today. It was high and rather skimpy in fluff, but it was there. The sun soon took care of the blemish…
2) If you absolutely have to do it, don’t dress conspicuously, don’t walk on any main streets, and avoid eye contact.
3) The lower the sun, the less visible the alcohol.
4) Try not to already be drunk, unless you run into someone who gives you trouble about the fact you’re buying alcohol in the Middle east, at which time play it off like you’re so drunk, you don’t actually realize you’re buying alcohol in the Middle East.
5) If someone continues to give you trouble, don’t offer them a beer as a token of peace.
6) If all else fails, say you’re on a mission from Allah and are using it for Martyr-esqe activities.
7) If you manage to make it with the alcohol intact, consume, and enjoy the fact you’re drinking a cheap bottle of rum in the middle of the most religious region in the world.
8) When you finish off the bottle, read Step 1.
Speaking of which, it seems appropriate to add in the alcohol post, has anyone ever taken the time to watch BBC for more than a few minutes at a time? See, I have a lot of downtime from class, and it’s typically so hot out that sitting indoors doesn’t make me feel quite as guilty as sitting on my couch in Monterey watching endless reruns of Scrubs, so I get the opportunity to watch the news out here. Ok, let’s take this dilemma of mine step by step. I was sold on this apartment with a selling point of, “And, it has satellite tv with over 500 channels!”
“500 channels,” I thought to myself, “Jackpot!”
Had I been smart enough to read the fine print, I would have noticed the catch which says, “Two of which are English speaking channels.”
No problem, I told myself. I’m here to speak Arabic anyways and I need to learn to roll with the punches. Well, there’s only so much I can take of watching 513 channels in a language I can’t understand and I have yet to find a Scrubs DVD with Arabic subtitles, so I naturally come back to Channel 3 – BBC – or Channel 8 – English al Jazeera.
Now, I was under the impression there was a lot of news to report on, but apparently, only about five, sometimes as many as seven stories make the cut each day. Anyone out there who goes off about the fair, timely, and accurate reporting of BBC and al Jazeera has never watched more than 15 minutes of the actual channel. The stories will go from “The North Korean Nuclear Issue!!!” to “How One Former Crack Addict Changed Her Life Around.” I already have a pretty good idea of the life of a BBC reporter. Hit record, set on loop, let’s get some drinks.
What al Jazeera should have reported on is the fact there was a cloud in the sky today. It was high and rather skimpy in fluff, but it was there. The sun soon took care of the blemish…
To hell with going green...
Since there really isn’t much to report on from Jordan, and there is really only so many times I can go into great detail about the blank stares and hardened creases of the eyes from the faces of cab drivers as they try to figure out which language I’m speaking because it’s obviously not Arabic, it’s time for me to sound off on some pressing issues of the day.
The massive outcry that we hear day in and day out about global warming has only reinforced one very basic idea: no matter what people say, they will continue to act in their own best self-interest. The world is dying? So what, I like having a good air-conditioning system. High oil prices will prove to be the single greatest lobby for defeating global warming because now, it is not about the circumstances thirty years from now. Now, it is becoming personal. Now, people can’t afford to buy that extra scoop of ice cream for their children. Now, people need a cheaper way to get to work, and that is affecting them in the here and the now.
Most people know how I feel about energy. I believe the best signal to send to OPEC is not to beg and plead for more production, but to show them that we simply don’t need their oil. This does not mean driving gaping wounds into landscapes of our country, but developing new, clean technologies to take the place of oil. I know, I know, same ole, same ole. But here’s the thing, how hard would it honestly be for America to transition to a greener world, break away from our reliance on foreign nations with vast reservoirs of oil – a relationship a psychiatrist would most likely call an unhealthy addiction that will eventually lead suicidal behaviors – and play the role that America has grown so accustomed to playing over the past century: that of a leader? How hard would it be to offer tax breaks and incentives to people who install solar panels or buy an electric car? How hard would it be for a small group of people to get together and say, we refuse to buy products from this producer because this producer has filthy centers of production? You want oil prices to drop, than let’s for a change try and listen to our horribly boring Intro to Economics professors and turn supply and demand upside down. The key to dropping oil prices is not to have the leader of the free world get on his knees and kiss the shoes of one of the most unjust kingdoms in the world, but to say, “Fine, prices are high, we’re going to try something else.” There is no reason, given the technologies and innovation of the day, that oil and gas cannot be as elastic as the decision to buy Coke or Pepsi when at the grocery store.
I certainly don’t want to give the impression that I am a morally-righteous human being. Despite being a believer in the existential threat of Global Warming, I don’t stay up at night, fretting over the impending doom of the planet. I do, however, worry how I’m going to afford the next tank of gas to drive home from Monterey to Walnut Creek to see my family. And for all intents and purposes, I certainly panic at the thought I might go to the store one day and find that Coke and Pepsi are priced the same and I have to make a conscious decision of what actually tastes better. The here and the now is all I am worried about. Amazingly enough, though, we are fortunate to live in a country where worrying about the here and the now allows us to utilize those concerns to focus on a better future for our children.
I suppose, as truly pathetic as this might sound, the ultimate problem comes down to the fact we either don’t want to concern ourselves with the real problems and just wish they will go away, or, and this certainly applies to me, I just don’t want to be part of “The Green Movement.” Hippies go green. Ralph Nader goes green. The woman yelling at you to recycle the can you just threw away goes green. Anything that makes people feel like they are being compared to Hippies, however good or bad that might be, is destined to fail. And alas, with rising corn prices, rising oil prices, an administration that is only concerned with getting more oil, and people sick of hearing about Global Warming, the Green Revolution is on life support (but certainly not from the American government). So now, with great humility and an even greater desire to see America continue to be the leader of the free world for another century, it’s time for a new revolution. For the sake of a better or more inspiring term, let’s just call it the New America Revolution, because America will only enjoy the fruits of the 21st century if it remakes itself, and that begins with new energy policies. It’s not going green; it’s not saving the world; and it’s certainly not about solving the sudden rise in hurricanes because honestly, who the hell cares about cleaner alternatives? The opportunity is ripe for America to look for cheaper alternatives to a problem that has been plaguing us for decades. Then, and only then, will Saudi Arabia and its lackeys suddenly feel the nostalgia of breaking free of the oil crisis of the 70s. Then, and only then, will we break free of oil.
The massive outcry that we hear day in and day out about global warming has only reinforced one very basic idea: no matter what people say, they will continue to act in their own best self-interest. The world is dying? So what, I like having a good air-conditioning system. High oil prices will prove to be the single greatest lobby for defeating global warming because now, it is not about the circumstances thirty years from now. Now, it is becoming personal. Now, people can’t afford to buy that extra scoop of ice cream for their children. Now, people need a cheaper way to get to work, and that is affecting them in the here and the now.
Most people know how I feel about energy. I believe the best signal to send to OPEC is not to beg and plead for more production, but to show them that we simply don’t need their oil. This does not mean driving gaping wounds into landscapes of our country, but developing new, clean technologies to take the place of oil. I know, I know, same ole, same ole. But here’s the thing, how hard would it honestly be for America to transition to a greener world, break away from our reliance on foreign nations with vast reservoirs of oil – a relationship a psychiatrist would most likely call an unhealthy addiction that will eventually lead suicidal behaviors – and play the role that America has grown so accustomed to playing over the past century: that of a leader? How hard would it be to offer tax breaks and incentives to people who install solar panels or buy an electric car? How hard would it be for a small group of people to get together and say, we refuse to buy products from this producer because this producer has filthy centers of production? You want oil prices to drop, than let’s for a change try and listen to our horribly boring Intro to Economics professors and turn supply and demand upside down. The key to dropping oil prices is not to have the leader of the free world get on his knees and kiss the shoes of one of the most unjust kingdoms in the world, but to say, “Fine, prices are high, we’re going to try something else.” There is no reason, given the technologies and innovation of the day, that oil and gas cannot be as elastic as the decision to buy Coke or Pepsi when at the grocery store.
I certainly don’t want to give the impression that I am a morally-righteous human being. Despite being a believer in the existential threat of Global Warming, I don’t stay up at night, fretting over the impending doom of the planet. I do, however, worry how I’m going to afford the next tank of gas to drive home from Monterey to Walnut Creek to see my family. And for all intents and purposes, I certainly panic at the thought I might go to the store one day and find that Coke and Pepsi are priced the same and I have to make a conscious decision of what actually tastes better. The here and the now is all I am worried about. Amazingly enough, though, we are fortunate to live in a country where worrying about the here and the now allows us to utilize those concerns to focus on a better future for our children.
I suppose, as truly pathetic as this might sound, the ultimate problem comes down to the fact we either don’t want to concern ourselves with the real problems and just wish they will go away, or, and this certainly applies to me, I just don’t want to be part of “The Green Movement.” Hippies go green. Ralph Nader goes green. The woman yelling at you to recycle the can you just threw away goes green. Anything that makes people feel like they are being compared to Hippies, however good or bad that might be, is destined to fail. And alas, with rising corn prices, rising oil prices, an administration that is only concerned with getting more oil, and people sick of hearing about Global Warming, the Green Revolution is on life support (but certainly not from the American government). So now, with great humility and an even greater desire to see America continue to be the leader of the free world for another century, it’s time for a new revolution. For the sake of a better or more inspiring term, let’s just call it the New America Revolution, because America will only enjoy the fruits of the 21st century if it remakes itself, and that begins with new energy policies. It’s not going green; it’s not saving the world; and it’s certainly not about solving the sudden rise in hurricanes because honestly, who the hell cares about cleaner alternatives? The opportunity is ripe for America to look for cheaper alternatives to a problem that has been plaguing us for decades. Then, and only then, will Saudi Arabia and its lackeys suddenly feel the nostalgia of breaking free of the oil crisis of the 70s. Then, and only then, will we break free of oil.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Knowledge Report...
Quick post, just to spread a little knowledge to the world. I just finished a book called "Ghost Wars," an excellent account of the history of Afghanistan from 1979 (the Soviet invasion) until Sep. 10, 2001 (Something big happened on Sep 11...). It is a remarkable book that should now be required reading in high school history classes. Also, below are some good atricles about the Middle East as well as oil issues...
http://www.economist.com/world/africa/displaystory.cfm?story_id=11592833
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/22/opinion/22friedman.html?em&ex=1214539200&en=d872eed898a898f2&ei=5087%0A
http://www.metimes.com/International/2007/11/19/analysis_irans_secret_syrian_plan/7451/
http://www.metimes.com/Opinion/2007/11/22/analysis_a_mideast_nuclear_war/4411/
http://www.economist.com/world/africa/displaystory.cfm?story_id=11592833
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/22/opinion/22friedman.html?em&ex=1214539200&en=d872eed898a898f2&ei=5087%0A
http://www.metimes.com/International/2007/11/19/analysis_irans_secret_syrian_plan/7451/
http://www.metimes.com/Opinion/2007/11/22/analysis_a_mideast_nuclear_war/4411/
Yeah, the Middle East is Warm...
So after a little over a week, I’ve finally come to a very important, albeit not very widely known fact, about the Middle East and Islam in general: the fact women completely cover themselves and men almost always wear long pants and long-sleeved shirts has nothing to do with religion. They are wisely protecting themselves from being eaten alive from the swarms of mosquitoes that would rival the locusts of the ten plagues. If, as I now know, they leave the house and make the very minor mistake of returning home after sunrise and by chance their skin is not fully covered, they would arise to the itchy burning and pot marked skin that could only be thought of as Chicken Pocks. I know this because as of this writing, I am typing one handed because my other hand, relentlessly scratching myself like Seal after a fresh line of Cocaine.
All jokes aside, though, the fact these people are fully clothed in this weather absolutely boggles the mind. I tried for the first few days to attempt to fit in by wearing jeans and real shoes, but abandoned that idea when I was so sweaty I could have probably wrung out my pants. So, I failed in my objective of integration and busted out the ole trusty shorts, to which my roommate very aptly pointed out, “Those scream American.” It’s like, yeah, cuz otherwise I wouldn’t be getting these strange looks as I walk down the street. But in all honesty, is integration that important? Should I come here and put on Middle Eastern clothes and try to blend in to the culture? Personally, I say no. Would a woman dressed in traditional Muslim clothing come to America and abandon her wardrobe to be more American? Or would a man who has worn jeans every day of his life suddenly throw on a pair of shorts because it’s what everyone else is doing? Hell no. And I see absolutely nothing wrong with that. I have no qualms about being an American, and the fact I look American and dress as an American is not insulting to me. I came here to learn about Middle Eastern culture, and in doing so became a de facto ambassador of the United States of which Jordanians can in turn learn about me and where I come from.
Fortunately, while it is apparently tacky to be doing what I’m doing by wearing shorts, Amman is about as Western as a Middle Eastern city gets. This is noticeable almost instantly by seeing the different ways the women dress. Some are completely decked out in black robes, revealing only their eyes through a sort of mesh lining, while others stroll in skirts and rather revealing shirts. The best are the ones who seem to be having an identity crisis, strutting around with the traditional Hijab while busting out very tight jeans and skin tight shirts. In the grand scheme of things, seems to defeat the purpose, but who I am to say anything walking around in shorts and a t-shirt. Perhaps I’ll throw on a yarmulke to see the reaction I get. The point of all this is that, to me, this strange clash of tradition and contemporary says Jordan is going through a very Western transition because to me, being “western” is not that everyone dresses stylishly, but that everyone can wear whatever they want – from full religious coverings to skimpy “is that even clothing?” – and coexist in harmony.
All jokes aside, though, the fact these people are fully clothed in this weather absolutely boggles the mind. I tried for the first few days to attempt to fit in by wearing jeans and real shoes, but abandoned that idea when I was so sweaty I could have probably wrung out my pants. So, I failed in my objective of integration and busted out the ole trusty shorts, to which my roommate very aptly pointed out, “Those scream American.” It’s like, yeah, cuz otherwise I wouldn’t be getting these strange looks as I walk down the street. But in all honesty, is integration that important? Should I come here and put on Middle Eastern clothes and try to blend in to the culture? Personally, I say no. Would a woman dressed in traditional Muslim clothing come to America and abandon her wardrobe to be more American? Or would a man who has worn jeans every day of his life suddenly throw on a pair of shorts because it’s what everyone else is doing? Hell no. And I see absolutely nothing wrong with that. I have no qualms about being an American, and the fact I look American and dress as an American is not insulting to me. I came here to learn about Middle Eastern culture, and in doing so became a de facto ambassador of the United States of which Jordanians can in turn learn about me and where I come from.
Fortunately, while it is apparently tacky to be doing what I’m doing by wearing shorts, Amman is about as Western as a Middle Eastern city gets. This is noticeable almost instantly by seeing the different ways the women dress. Some are completely decked out in black robes, revealing only their eyes through a sort of mesh lining, while others stroll in skirts and rather revealing shirts. The best are the ones who seem to be having an identity crisis, strutting around with the traditional Hijab while busting out very tight jeans and skin tight shirts. In the grand scheme of things, seems to defeat the purpose, but who I am to say anything walking around in shorts and a t-shirt. Perhaps I’ll throw on a yarmulke to see the reaction I get. The point of all this is that, to me, this strange clash of tradition and contemporary says Jordan is going through a very Western transition because to me, being “western” is not that everyone dresses stylishly, but that everyone can wear whatever they want – from full religious coverings to skimpy “is that even clothing?” – and coexist in harmony.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Little Recap
Here is my attempt to fill in the missing week from when I didn’t have any internet access. I promised not to make this a public diary, so to speak, so even though I know a lot of my loyal readers out there are just dying to know the day-to-day life of Dave, here’s a few highlights of a relatively uneventful week in Jordan. The four-leg-flight was a total of 30 hours of air and layover time. Extremely brutal and capped off with a mad dash in Washington Dulles to switch planes which spun me into a full-blown asthma attack giving me no choice but to bust out my emergency inhaler in front of an incredibly attractive flight attendant prompting her to look at me like a worried mother would look at her mentally-impaired child and then asked, “Um, can I maybe get you some juice?” Suffice it to say, the old, “Make her knees week with my inhaler” trick didn’t work and I’m still without her number. I actually ran into her a couple days later in my hotel and she gave me a little wave as though saying, “You’re not supposed to be real whilst off of the airplane.”
Leave it to my inhaler to continue the drama, though. Passing through Heathrow in London, I forgot to take it out of my pocket since I haven’t had to whip it out in several months and didn’t give it a second thought once my little-boy lungs thought it appropriate to let my body take in some Oxygen. The security guard gave me a quick once over with his metal detector, looked at the inhaler, and waved me through without a second thought. I didn’t even have to go back through the main metal detector! Fucking English. As much as I hate airport security – dare I say scarred since being tossed around like a dreidle on Chanukah by Israeli security a couple years ago – this was rather disconcerting for a kid studying terrorism.
I’ve long maintained that you can tell a lot about people by the way they drive. That was before I got to Jordan. Everyone’s crazy and the car has the right of way. The fact there are actually lines separating the roads seem to be a governmental act of futility. A car goes where there is space. The real trick, though, is crossing the street. I was looking for a good restaurant and asked a man at the hotel where I should go and the first thing he asked me was, “How are you at crossing streets?” This was obviously a ridiculous question. Who the Hell can’t cross a street? Well, as it were, me. I now understand why the Middle East is so religious. If you don’t pray to God, you’re dead. If you hesitate, you’re dead. The trick is to time the cars, and then go. Honestly, I felt like Sean Connery in The Rock when he had to roll through the fire bursts to get into Alcatraz. Truthfully, I had to cross numerous four lane highways, complete with thousands of cars who have no interest in slowing down, no cross walks, and the full expectation that you will cross the street if you want to get to the other side. It is absolutely nuts and makes Darwin seem like a genius in the middle of a highly religious atmosphere.
When people aren’t driving and sitting patiently as I attempt to converse with them, only one things comes to mind: the only thing a year’s worth of Arabic has prepared me for is to realize how unprepared I am when trying to speak to native speakers. Fortunately, everyone and their mother speaks English (except, of course, the guy who takes care of the property I’m staying in), which of course begs the question, why the hell am I learning Arabic when everyone and their mother can speak English?
As for Jordan itself, it is a very un-dynamic country stuck in the middle of a very dynamic neighborhood. Amman itself is the one capital in the Middle East with absolutely zero historical significance. Literally, 100 years ago it was a small town, the king decided it would become the capital, and today it’s the biggest city in Jordan. Another wise choice, Lettis...
Leave it to my inhaler to continue the drama, though. Passing through Heathrow in London, I forgot to take it out of my pocket since I haven’t had to whip it out in several months and didn’t give it a second thought once my little-boy lungs thought it appropriate to let my body take in some Oxygen. The security guard gave me a quick once over with his metal detector, looked at the inhaler, and waved me through without a second thought. I didn’t even have to go back through the main metal detector! Fucking English. As much as I hate airport security – dare I say scarred since being tossed around like a dreidle on Chanukah by Israeli security a couple years ago – this was rather disconcerting for a kid studying terrorism.
I’ve long maintained that you can tell a lot about people by the way they drive. That was before I got to Jordan. Everyone’s crazy and the car has the right of way. The fact there are actually lines separating the roads seem to be a governmental act of futility. A car goes where there is space. The real trick, though, is crossing the street. I was looking for a good restaurant and asked a man at the hotel where I should go and the first thing he asked me was, “How are you at crossing streets?” This was obviously a ridiculous question. Who the Hell can’t cross a street? Well, as it were, me. I now understand why the Middle East is so religious. If you don’t pray to God, you’re dead. If you hesitate, you’re dead. The trick is to time the cars, and then go. Honestly, I felt like Sean Connery in The Rock when he had to roll through the fire bursts to get into Alcatraz. Truthfully, I had to cross numerous four lane highways, complete with thousands of cars who have no interest in slowing down, no cross walks, and the full expectation that you will cross the street if you want to get to the other side. It is absolutely nuts and makes Darwin seem like a genius in the middle of a highly religious atmosphere.
When people aren’t driving and sitting patiently as I attempt to converse with them, only one things comes to mind: the only thing a year’s worth of Arabic has prepared me for is to realize how unprepared I am when trying to speak to native speakers. Fortunately, everyone and their mother speaks English (except, of course, the guy who takes care of the property I’m staying in), which of course begs the question, why the hell am I learning Arabic when everyone and their mother can speak English?
As for Jordan itself, it is a very un-dynamic country stuck in the middle of a very dynamic neighborhood. Amman itself is the one capital in the Middle East with absolutely zero historical significance. Literally, 100 years ago it was a small town, the king decided it would become the capital, and today it’s the biggest city in Jordan. Another wise choice, Lettis...
Monday, June 23, 2008
And I'm Back...
There is a minor glitch in getting on the internet, so while there is a lot I have to say, I'll just post what is on my mind at the moment and fill in the rest tomorrow. Here is the issue at hand. Why any person would willingly choose to hike over 10 kilometers on what is in no way flat, paved road, compelte with a balls out ascent up a mountain to see a monastery, all in 100 degree heat, while feeling multiple blisters form is beyond me. Why anyone would do this on only two pieces of Pita bread and brand new sandals is even more bizarre. But alas, such is the wisdom of Lettis men in a nutshell. While the city of Petra (complete with the Indiana Jones treasury-gate and the even larger monastery) is miles upon miles of tombs and staircases carved into mountains and is no doubt the treasure of Jordan, it is hard not to leave depressed. Scores of young boys and girls with bad teeth go to great lengths to seel anything they can get their hands on, including shoe-boxes full of rocks they very kindly handpicked off the ground. With a little bit of initiative and some cunning fundraising, it would appear to be very simple to set up some schools for these kids, thus making Petra even more spectacular while giving hundreds of Middle Eastern children a livelihood and a sense of dreams that most children should have (or at the very least offering them the education needed to become fully aware, pissed off, and the future of Middle Eastern terrorism).
Regardless, you have to love the Middle East. It is the only place in the world where simultaneously getting kicked in the head bu a donkey whilst getting trampeled by a train of camels becomes a legitimate threat to your well-being. Speaking of which, an editorial in the Jordan Times, whic gives a relatively basic assault on American foreign policy towards terrorism (albeit largely accurate) asks a fairly simple question: Why are Americans so afraid of Arabs? Is it becasue of 9/11? Can you imagine if we took the trillion dollars we're shelling out to battle terrorism - which is a tactic and for all intents and purposes never can be defeated - and used it for something else? Overhaul healthcare, perhaps? Invest in new energy, perhaps, thus weening us from foreign oil and making the Middle East a moot point. How about putting a man on Mars and actually sparking the intrigue of "what we can achieve when we put our minds to it" that makes America so unique? The fact this debate has been largely political theater and never taken seriously is slightly disconcerting and actually plays directly into the hands of al Qaeda who claims the desire to drag the US into a long, neverending war in the Middle East while draining its resources as a main objective.
Quote of the Day: "The United States was founded on a set of beliefs and not, as were other nations, on a common ethnicity, language, or religion."
Regardless, you have to love the Middle East. It is the only place in the world where simultaneously getting kicked in the head bu a donkey whilst getting trampeled by a train of camels becomes a legitimate threat to your well-being. Speaking of which, an editorial in the Jordan Times, whic gives a relatively basic assault on American foreign policy towards terrorism (albeit largely accurate) asks a fairly simple question: Why are Americans so afraid of Arabs? Is it becasue of 9/11? Can you imagine if we took the trillion dollars we're shelling out to battle terrorism - which is a tactic and for all intents and purposes never can be defeated - and used it for something else? Overhaul healthcare, perhaps? Invest in new energy, perhaps, thus weening us from foreign oil and making the Middle East a moot point. How about putting a man on Mars and actually sparking the intrigue of "what we can achieve when we put our minds to it" that makes America so unique? The fact this debate has been largely political theater and never taken seriously is slightly disconcerting and actually plays directly into the hands of al Qaeda who claims the desire to drag the US into a long, neverending war in the Middle East while draining its resources as a main objective.
Quote of the Day: "The United States was founded on a set of beliefs and not, as were other nations, on a common ethnicity, language, or religion."
Friday, June 13, 2008
Yes, I Also Ask Why...
Why the Middle East? Why Arabic and terrorism studies and international affairs. In a word: Ummmmmm... Who knows? I made a snap decision to get my masters degree and for some reason am drawn to the events of the Middle East. The history, war, oil, people, culture, food. Something about it seems right. Something about it makes it seem like the middle of the world. If reconciliation throughout the world is to occur, I am certain it will begin in the Middle East. I don't mean peace in Iraq. I don't mean Israel and Palestine. I mean all of it. I mean when the world no longer looks at the region as though it owes us something. I mean when everyone can look at the region and understand that all Abrahamic religions started in the same place with the same people and very similar beliefs.
I certainly am not going to sit here and pretend I have the answers and won't sell myself as someone who knows everything (or even a lot) about the culture of the Middle East. However, I will say that I am studying the Middle East and will be spending at least the next three months living amongst the people who are fortunately or unfortunately in the middle of many of the world's controversies. While I won't fool myself into thinking that a lot of people will read this blog, I do not intend on writing in Against Goliath merely to explain my experiences. I strongly feel that if more Americans understood the "War on Terrorism" and the culture of the Middle East, a very different sentiment would exist on the future of this so-called war. For example, it is simply inexcusable that John McCain has mistaken Shiite and Sunni. Barack Obama has called for exits from Iraq that are very questionable. Our leaders and our citizens absolutely must know more about the situation we're in and stop being newspaper observers. Considering America's involvement in the Middle East along with the importance of oil are among the foremost issues in American politics, people need to be more educated in the events of this extremely volatile region.
My goal is to bring a little bit of knowledge to anyone who does me the honor of reading my opinions. I promise not to preach or talk about my very mundane daily experiences. Please spread the word to different people. The more people who know a few more facts about the Middle East will make the world a better place, I guarantee it.
I certainly am not going to sit here and pretend I have the answers and won't sell myself as someone who knows everything (or even a lot) about the culture of the Middle East. However, I will say that I am studying the Middle East and will be spending at least the next three months living amongst the people who are fortunately or unfortunately in the middle of many of the world's controversies. While I won't fool myself into thinking that a lot of people will read this blog, I do not intend on writing in Against Goliath merely to explain my experiences. I strongly feel that if more Americans understood the "War on Terrorism" and the culture of the Middle East, a very different sentiment would exist on the future of this so-called war. For example, it is simply inexcusable that John McCain has mistaken Shiite and Sunni. Barack Obama has called for exits from Iraq that are very questionable. Our leaders and our citizens absolutely must know more about the situation we're in and stop being newspaper observers. Considering America's involvement in the Middle East along with the importance of oil are among the foremost issues in American politics, people need to be more educated in the events of this extremely volatile region.
My goal is to bring a little bit of knowledge to anyone who does me the honor of reading my opinions. I promise not to preach or talk about my very mundane daily experiences. Please spread the word to different people. The more people who know a few more facts about the Middle East will make the world a better place, I guarantee it.
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