Rotary Scholar - East Tennessee to Jordan

The Real Disney World

2011-06-06T01:35:00.000-07:00

The Real Disney World

I’ve always been interested in the general U.S. perception of “them.”

By “them” I mean: “they,” “the other,” “the enemy,” “the ones who hate us,” “the terrorists,” “those who ‘aren’t with us,’” and, in the case of some who like to have a specific enemy, “the Muslims,” “the Arabs.”

Truth be told, even since September 11, 2001, despite the ferocity and hideousness of those attacks, I’ve always been a little uncomfortable with the rhetoric against anyone who dislikes the U.S. or disagrees with U.S. foreign policy, especially as I’ve heard that rhetoric grow increasingly vituperative and violent. At this point, after having spent a total of two out of the last five years in the Middle East (amongst “them”) I personally grow increasingly angry about that rhetoric for a number of reasons. I just hope that that anger doesn’t turn to bitterness and despair, because if anger alone is a wasted emotion then bitterness and despair are worse.

One of my original goals was to limit display of ideological bias, but I realize that the last few posts have broken that initial intent. I think that was a goal as a result of influence from my best teachers, both at Oak Ridge High School and at West Point; they never let on their ideological biases. And trust me, being someone who tries incessantly to deconstruct everything I learn, I tried my utmost to identify any shred of bias in what I was being taught.

I justify this new turn of mine for two reasons. The first is obvious; I’m not a teacher imparting knowledge, I’m someone who is trying to have an immediate impact on the world, in whatever small way I can, in the direction of what I feel is right. The second is more personal in that my time as a Rotary scholar is coming to a close, more or less, though I must remain in the area to finish my degree for a few more months; that prospect is adding urgency to my message.

To begin the real discussion, I’m going to throw all of us Disney lovers back to one of the best Disney films of all time: The Lion King. This movie was awesome. It had the plains of Africa, complete with background singing in Swahili. It had zebras, hyenas, mere cats, wild boars, apparently what is a ‘mandrill-baboon hybrid,’ and of course: lions. It had action and drama, love and treachery.

As any Disney lover will certainly remember, The Lion King was a Hamlet story except much better than Hamlet for two reasons. The first and most important: it was with lions, obviously. Second, because in the end, as opposed to Hamlet, the good guys win and the bad guys lose.

The good guys win and the bad guys lose. In our story, these bad guys are the voracious and unconscionable hyenas led by the treacherous and ambitious Scar. Evil just exudes from this lethal combination of characters. When Scar and the hyenas make their evil plot to conquer Pride Rock, we know that they are the bad guys. Why? It doesn’t matter! For us, it’s simply enough that “they are evil.” It doesn’t matter why they are evil; evil is purely evil. It is illogical and the result of something rotten inherently intrinsic in “them,” whoever “they” are.

I begin to wonder though. Why would the hyenas harbor dislike and hatred for Mufasa? As the hyenas state in the film at one point, Mufasa essentially drove the hyenas into the elephant graveyard to live off of scraps and bones. I wonder what other perceived injustices the hyenas suffered at the hands of the lions? I’m not asking about what REAL injustices they suffered, I’m asking about perceived injustices. Because whether or not those injustices are real, the perception is what the hyenas will act on. Right?

I remember during the 2004 Presidential campaign an advertisement for the incumbent president’s reelection. It featured dark woods… moving through the dark woods… low speaking voice… quick moving dark shapes…And then… a Bear!

Oh wait, sorry, no that was a Reagan commercial 20 years earlier.

And then…

A pack of wolves!

(Kind of like… a pack of Hyenas!)

The obvious message of the commercial was that America was under some unsaid threat from something similar to a pack of wolves. I think it’s safe to assume “the terrorists” were the intended message.

I’m going to jump to my point. I’ve heard critics of U.S. policy in the Middle East, during the War on Terror especially, be accused of “living in Disney World” (amongst other, much less palatable insults). Yet I would argue very vehemently that, in truth, it is actually very much the other way around.

The world which many of our pundits rant about, which many of our “political knowledgeables” write of, and which Huntington and Lewis attempt to conceptualize and explain: that world is the real Disney World.

Theirs is a world in which “we” are the good guys and “they” are the bad guys. We are right and they are wrong. “They” are the enemy. They are incomprehensible and illogical, they are evil. And as such, there is no conceptualizing their perspective; they have no valid complaints, perceived or real, they only have hatred for us. Why do they have hatred for us? For various reasons, but most of all because we are free, of course… because we are powerful…because we are good and they are bad.

That is the world constructed by many of the voices I still hear coming from the United States, especially while I’m here in Amman, Jordan. That is the world that was constructed following the September 20, 2001 address to the joint session of Congress. That message, backed by the “scholarship” of Bernard Lewis, said unequivocally that the reason for hatred of America was simply:

They hate what they see right here in this chamber -- a democratically elected government. [Our] leaders are self-appointed. They hate our freedoms -- our freedom of religion, our freedom of speech, our freedom to vote and assemble and disagree with each other.

That makes it pretty clear: they are illogically against us. They hate freedom. That means they are evil, and thus illogical. That means that we are the good guys.

And in the end, the good guys always win.

I argue that reality is much more complex. We do not live in this Disney World created during the early years of the War on Terror and perpetuated to this day. The perpetuation of this fantasy world of good and evil is made painfully obvious to me every time I turn on the international news, usually the BBC, from here in Amman, Jordan.

The “terrorists” are not evil hyenas, nor the wolves of the election commercial. They are human beings, just as we are, who perceive a tangible threat emanating from the United States. You might say, for security studies people, that they perceive a threat to their security: the security of their way of life, their homes, and even their quality of life. Whether or not that threat is real is irrelevant to the fact that, if nothing is done to change the perception, then those human beings that feel threatened will take up arms to fight the perceived threat.

I am by no means and in no way saying that those who committed the September 11, 2001, attacks are right. I am not saying in any way that their actions are in any way justifiable. Their actions are of the most reprehensible nature in the entire spectrum of possible human endeavors: the indiscriminate and sudden destruction of innocent human life on a mass scale.

I am saying that we continue to fail at understanding the causes for the attack. The general conceptualization, that there is no logical cause to be understood, is a fallacy.

My argument is very simple: in the course of reacting to the September 11 attacks, much of the United States , and the United States government in particular, became so caught up in this “they-evil hate us-good,” worldview that true, unbiased assessment has been discarded. In the course of creating this world of dichotomies, the United States in general has paint-brushed over any criticisms of its foreign policies and its role in the world, and furthermore refused to engage in self-critique on an institutional level. In this way, I argue that we only exacerbate our problems and ultimately seem intransigent as a whole.

The net effect of what I am saying above is that United States national security, the preeminent concern of foreign policy, is undermined: we become susceptible to “backlash.”

In order to avoid this deep and ultimately self-generated threat to our own security, the United States needs to engage in self-critique on a broader scale: on an institutional level and on a grass roots level. The enemy we face needs to be assessed based on the assumption that they are human and are essentially rational actors.

People who criticize the U.S., both within and without, need to stop being attacked and labeled as enemies of freedom or unpatriotic (yes, I have been attacked as unpatriotic for disagreeing with U.S. policies, despite the fact that I willingly volunteered to serve in the military). Only once these things get under way can we truly assess a clear path to addressing and neutralizing the threats we face, as well as deal with the (here we go- deep breath- wait for it…) the contradictions within our own, democratically determined policies.

"Hakuna Matata, it means no worries." Though...my favorite character was always Rafiki.

2011-05-23T17:00:00.000-07:00

The Revolutions

I guess it’s finally time to address the revolutions we’re seeing in the Arab world. Finally, meaning this attention comes a little late, as my purpose with this blog is to provide some perspective on the Middle East to people at home. Yet, while I can’t deny the monumental importance of the revolutions, every time I’ve sat down to write, I’ve felt that there are more important issues to address, such as the common “Westerner’s” perception of the common Middle Eastern person. This issue is so important because ultimately any perceptions of “the other” have a more lasting impact on relations; our supposed civilizational conflict is only fed by the belief in an irreconcilable body of “us” and of “them.”

My defense of my lack of attention to the “Arab Spring” laid out, it seems appropriate to address the revolutions now. The fact that these are popular uprisings and are generally under the auspices of calls for freedom and human rights is fascinating but also largely a puzzle to many experts on “Democratic transition models” and experts on Middle Eastern politics alike. For this reason, I am going to insist on refraining from attempting to explicate the causes, roots, and implications of these revolutions. Even more, I will not try to postulate on the future of the Arab Spring. Any attempt to do these things would be unfounded in academia and knowingly dishonest intellectually.

My goal is to attempt to understand the violence that we are seeing in Libya and Syria and place these cases in a broader perspective of political science, particularly in terms of what is called “comparative politics.” In the end I will propose three inherent lessons we might extract from the violence we’re seeing.

To begin we need to deal with the concept of “politics” in a general sense. This concept, despite its widespread use, is not very clearly defined and its definition is hotly debated. The definition I consistently turn to is that of Patrick O’Neill: “politics is the struggle within a group for the power to make decisions for the larger group.” If we subscribe to the Clausewitzian conception of war- or really violence in general- as simply one among many political tools, then it becomes immediately apparent that what we are seeing in Libya and Syria between the governments and opposition is simply politics in it crudest form, that of violence.

Yet it makes some sense, particularly when viewed through the perspective of Mohammed Ayoub, who authored a very insightful examination of Third World Elites and their security concerns. State elites, and every state has them, might be equated to entrenched interests; those people and institutions that benefit from the established order. Elites, as entrenched interests, in any state seek to maintain the established order and to generate people’s loyalty to that established order. To do so they can draw on such things as ideology, ethnicity, history, nationalism, distraction, and, of course, force.

The problem in Third World states is that often they are built on weak national foundations, as holdovers from colonial times. In the Middle East this is particularly true, where the states are often referred to as “lines on a map.” These states were drawn from agreements all made in Europe, such as the Balfour Letter, the Hussein-McMahon Letters, the Sykes-Picot Treaty, the San Remo Conference, and the Cairo Conference. The joking name given to the little blip on Jordan’s southern border, “Churchill’s Sneeze,” poignantly underscores the argument: Middle East states were by and large determined by people not of the Middle East. Thus, here in the Middle East, the established order and the people who benefit from it have to use every tool at their disposal in order to maintain that order; oftentimes the last recourse for maintaining loyalty to the state is force and fear.

The thing people need to realize is that the process I just described above, the process of people who benefit from the established order using force and fear to maintain order, this is the traditional process. That is what states from their early beginnings were founded on. They may have resorted to other unifying factors, but overall the threat of violence from the state was the underlying unifying motivation for people to obey and be loyal to the state. Max Weber, an early German political theorist, described this as state’s having the monopoly on legitimate violence within a territory. I also personally like the description of states as essentially a form organized crime, a giant racketeering organization. This is not far from the truth. The difference between the state and organized crime, we in the West like to think, is that the state is legitimated by its subjects and it uses force discretely and according to the rule of law. In the West, our states tend to be organized in such a way so as to try to ensure those things as well as to internalize the “struggle” that is inherent to politics, hopefully ensuring that struggle remains peaceful.

However, that very conceptualization of the state as being responsible for not using indiscriminate violence is actually not very old in the grand scheme of things. Its actual practice is even more recent. Finally, its practice and acceptance on a broad scale is still not assured. In a place where the very foundations and established order of the state are doubted by its people, maintaining that order is not easy and elites, as I’ve been calling them, are more ready and willing to use force to achieve their objectives.

Boiled down, I’m attempting to argue three points:

1) In a comparative politics sense, it needs to be understood that states are states and the difference between Authoritarianism and Democratic governments is not one of diametric opposition; rather it is one of degree. They are different political regimes but the crux is that they are on the same scale, that is: “political organization.”

2) The use of violence indicates that the conception of states as being beholden to all of their subjects is, ultimately, still not universally accepted or practiced. What’s new about these cases is that the international community is actually taking action to enforce that very conception, suggesting the possibility that a former aspect of the nature of the state may actually be changing as a result of the international community. This argument is heavily loaded and I welcome any debate regarding this specific issue because I’m suggesting that this is something new.

3) Finally, I’m arguing that Assad and Qaddafi are not necessarily illogical, crazy , and soulless, despite the attractiveness of dismissing them as such. They and their respective establishments have an agenda: maintaining the order from which they perceive they benefit most. They are making a “rational” choice in order to succeed in that agenda. Unfortunately for them, the fact that their choice to use violence is rational given their perceived interests and constraints doesn’t make that choice any less unjust, reprehensible, and, ultimately, evil as an assault on human dignity.

Thank you for your interest!

Respectfully,

Brennan

2011-05-17T15:22:00.000-07:00

Orientals, Orientalism, and Reason

It’s to my absolute dismay and utter embarrassment to say that, though a graduated Middle Eastern Studies and Arabic Language major, I am just finally turning to Edward Said’s seminal work: Orientalism. Whew- I said it. Yes, I am just now reading the work that is the preeminent critical analysis on my own body of academic enquiry. The fact that I am now about three years late in this task was painfully highlighted by Said’s preface to the 2003 edition of the book. While reading that whole preface, I felt like I was some sort of intense boxing fan cheering Said as he boxed his imaginary opponents, mimicking his punches in the air, and yelling “Yeah, get’em, get’em.”

But the purpose of this post is not to laud Said’s work, necessarily, though I would happily do that. No, something specific in the book, along with a couple of recent conversations struck me pretty deeply as having to do with the common U.S. (and I realize I generalize almost unforgivably here… almost) perception of the Middle East. In Said’s case, this is the Orient; an Orient which is conceptualized and discussed and debated, as if it is some “thing” or concept to be grappled with and ultimately subdued. Said’s point is that originally “Orientalism” was just that: an academic endeavor to “conquer,” so to speak, the idea of the Orient. This academic endeavor eventually-or as he says, inevitably- turned into the physical manifestation of that academic subjugation of the Orient as an idea: meaning the academic turned into a political endeavor and thereby the people of the Orient were essentially subjugated for the whims of the Occident.

The specific idea that struck me so personally is the Western perception of “Oriental” powers of reason. In the early part of the 1900’s Lord Evelyn Baring Cromer was England’s “Representative” (essentially Governor) in Egypt. In his work Modern Egypt, Lord Cromer explained the “Oriental mind”:

Accuracy is abhorrent to the Oriental mind…..Want of accuracy, which easily degenerates into untruthfulness, is in fact the main characteristic of the Oriental mind….. Although the ancient Arabs acquired in a somewhat higher degree the science of dialectics, their descendants are singularly deficient in the logical faculty.
(*note: this quote is directly taken from Edward Said’s work, pg. 38)

Pretty stark? Slightly racist? Of course, we wouldn’t make such a similar mistake today. Would we? In the 1970’s Henry Kissinger wrote an essay in which he expressed his view of the “developing world” (meaning Africa and the Middle East, among some other regions):

Cultures which escaped the early impact of Newtonian thinking have retained the essentially pre-Newtonian view that the real world is almost completely internal to the observer…. Empirical reality has a much different significance…
(*note: again, this quote is extracted directly from Said’s work, pg. 47)

I’ve heard the argument expressed in many different ways, from many different people, each with varying degrees of experience in the Middle East (the “Orient”). The argument is wrong, unequivocally.

Most important in my view is the unsaid implication of the argument. The argument, when boiled down, says only this:

“We” are logical and “They” are not.

It took me all of about five seconds to blow all sorts of holes in that assertion.

Logic is a much more complex system than is commonly conceived; anyone who has taken any form of philosophy course has probably experienced and grappled with the trials and travails of an “argument” and its requisite logic train.

As someone who has spent about two out of the last five years in the Middle East, I can say from personal experience that people here engage in logical fallacies no more or less frequently than people do so in the United States. While the education system here may not be the same as in the United States or other Western countries, that fact does not lend itself to a racial determination of Western superiority in the faculties of logic.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that the common U.S. citizen’s perception of the Middle East and its people belies just as poor a faculty for logic as that which the West tends to attribute to the people of the Middle East. Ironic, huh. Controversial? Probably, and I may get some criticism for that observation. Nevertheless, it’s something I’ve observed.

As my case-in-point, I would love to use the Glenn Beck Farcical Logic Train, but I’m afraid that would be just too easy. Because Glenn Beck’s arguments, along with those arguments of some pundits who fall along the same ideological vein, are not logical; they are a demonstrable farce.

Rather, the example that popped up in my mind was a small debate that was the result of a survey in which U.S. citizens were asked their religious affiliation and then asked basic questions about beliefs and traditions of world religions. The survey found that those people asserting to be Atheist or Agnostic demonstrated the most accurate knowledge about religion in general as well as overall specifics of world religions. The research seemed well done and comprehensive, with breakdowns by not only religious affiliation, but also by race, income, geographical location… etc.

Yet the immediate debate was more interesting to me than the poll itself. The first general conclusion by a number of people claiming to be Atheist was this research validated Atheism. Or in other words, their argument seemed to go: because “we” know more about religion in general, our perspective is the truth or the closest to it. Q.E.D.
Yet anyone can see that argument does not logically make sense; it’s a totally invalid argument. The debate degenerated further as other people, in defense of religiosity, simply dismissed the whole poll, its implications, and its subsequent debate by simply asserting “we just know based on faith and nothing else matters.”

Again, my point in this post is to say only this: the belief that any “other” group of people has a weaker capacity for logic is false. It amounts to a massive case of Actor-Observer Bias.* If, as one would hope, people want to interact for their mutual benefit and without creating animosity, then those people have to be able to conceive of each other as equals. I would argue that the tendency in the West and in Western media to view the Middle East as full of generally illogical people does exactly the opposite of that and it has a tangible detrimental effect on Western dealings in the Middle East in general.

I need to add, a day after I originally posted this update, something that has been festering, for lack of a better word, in my mind. I'm going to take a side here, a political side in American politics. I know that might make some people uncomfortable; but I need to take this side. This is in regard to the question posed by President George W. Bush immediately following the September 11, 2001, attacks: "Why do they hate us?" The question is ultimately a poor one, being highly misleading and founded on vague assumptions. But most insidious of all was the answer he proferred to that very poor question: "They hate our freedoms." I have to ask, is that logical? I'm not asking if the answer is poorly supported. I'm asking if, on an emotional level, that answer makes sense? To say "yes" would be to commit the same error that I describe in the post above: one would be saying that "They" are illogical. In addition, not only does that answer assume "they" are of a lower capacity for logic, for establishing the truth, that answer is totally and completely wrong.

Thank you for your interest, I appreciate any thoughts or comments on my argument.

-Brennan

*note: Actor-Observer Bias apparently falls into something of a larger and developing psychological theory, thus it may not be an entirely accurate designation; but as I'm not completely up to date on theory in psychology I'm using the term as I learned it about five years ago.

2011-05-15T14:24:00.000-07:00

Alternative Historical Discourses

Please bear in mind as I begin this post that my goal with this blog, in general, is to share a little bit of this place with home. I know the Middle East is pretty far from Tennessee in more ways than just distance, but hopefully with what I write they might be brought just a little closer together.

With that in mind, I’m continuing my little discussion series on Palestine and Israel, and what better way to continue on “Nakba Day” than to write about the Nakba. This post is entitled “alternative historical discourses” because I’m mostly talking to an audience based primarily in the West, where the mainstream historical discourse is very much different. However, here in Jordan the story I’m about to tell is the mainstream account.

Today is May 15 and commemorated by many, in many parts of the world, as Nakba Day. Nakba in Arabic means “catastrophe”- Arabic, being the poetic language that it is, has a number of synonyms for catastrophe- so the word nakba has gained the ingrained, specific meaning of the historical event to which it refers. That event is the exodus of approximately 725,000 Palestinians from their homes upon the establishment of the state of Israel and the subsequent violence that followed. Of course the meaning, origins, and use of the term are debated, sometimes for academic reasons, more often for political reasons, but my description is that of its popular use as it has come to be today.

The events leading up to and following the Nakba are highly disputed. The way the story is told generally lays the foundation for the storyteller’s political and ideological arguments. Oftentimes, the story involves numerous atrocities and racial violence, with the storyteller’s side being the clear victim and the other side being inhuman monsters.

Despite the politicization of the story from any way you look at it, the fact remains, as Nakba Day commemorates, that 725,000 people, most of them completely uninvolved in any violence or politics, were more or less forced away from their homes and their homeland. Some of them left semi-willingly, at the strong behest of Arab armies who promised them they would be able to return after a few days (now 63 years). Many of them, if not most, left in panic at the approach of Israeli military and paramilitary units, particularly after widespread news of the Deir Yassin Massacre, among other massacres. Many others were forced out of their homes by those same units, facing either death or dislocation.

Those people became refugees that no one wanted. The ones who fled to Arab countries faced refugee camps that still exist today, disadvantage in all social matters, and institutional discrimination. Those who fled elsewhere, such as the United States and other Western countries often face discrimination as well, finding travel one of the most difficult things to accomplish. A great account of the Palestinian experience (and really the history of the development of the Palestinian identity) is a book called Palestinian Identity by Rashid Khalidi. That is the same Khalidi that a few misguided people labeled “a terrorist” and a radical during the 2008 Presidential Campaign. While Khalidi is very critical of U.S. policy in the Middle East, I seriously hope that doesn’t make him a radical and a terrorist considering I agree with his outlook in some significant ways.

(Rashid Khalidi, Wikipedia)

Another good, quick look at the identity issue from a firsthand perspective is on my friend’s blog. I’m sure she would love it if anyone would also comment, if they feel inclined to do so http://roseanon.blogspot.com/2011/05/al-nakba-and-thereafter-struggle-within.html

The whole concept of alternative discourse is a key debate in perceptions of history. One of the best expressions of this particular debate is through a group of Israeli historians known as the “New Historians.” This group focuses on revisiting the Israeli national discourse and reassessing it from both a factual and analytical standpoint. The best expression of their views on the Nakba and the establishment of Israel is:

• The original Israeli version said that Britain tried to prevent the establishment of a Jewish state; the New Historians demonstrate that it tried to prevent the establishment of a Palestinian state
• The original Israeli version said that the Palestinians fled their homes of their own free will; the New Historians demonstrate that the refugees were chased out or expelled‎
• The original Israeli version said that the balance of power was in favour of the Arabs; the New Historians demonstrate that Israel had the advantage both in manpower and in arms
• The original Israeli version said that the Arabs had a coordinated plan to destroy Israel; the New Historians demonstrate that the Arabs were divided
• The original Israeli version said that Arab intransigence prevented peace; the New Historians demonstrate that Israel is primarily to blame for the dead end.
(This is adapted from Avi Shlaim's description of the New Historians from an article in Ha’aretz, an Israeli newspaper)

Again, this post is intended to present a very very brief introduction to an alternative historical account than the one that is generally promulgated in the United States, for various reasons.
I hope this post was beneficial in some way. History is a funny thing: we boil it down to some key lessons for our history books, but oftentimes the devil is in the details and we often forget those details.

Thank you for your interest.

-Brennan

2011-05-09T05:43:00.001-07:00

I’d originally thought to add a new post earlier, but as always class responsibilities took up my writing impetus and more travel took up my energy. This will be my second post on my travels in Palestine and Israel. I actually made another trip this past weekend, going and staying in Palestine and then taking a trip to Tel Aviv, in Israel.

This post I’m going to dedicate to the border crossing. To begin the topic I’m going to first talk about racism. I’ve seen racism in different ways, with different faces. One of its worst faces, in my view, is on the face of a government employee or official of the law doing their job as their job demands. In a roundabout way I’m describing official, institutional racism. I know there is racism all over the world, with different roots and causes, and of varying “reasoning.” But I would say racism never truly has a justification: that would be to say there are circumstances where it is “just” and I don’t believe there is ever a “just racism.” There is a difference between explaining racism and justifying racism. The worst racism I think I have ever seen has been on the Israeli border, by Israeli border guards, carrying out Israeli border policy.

I’ve crossed the border three times now, twice at the King Hussein Bridge, and once more at the Sheikh Hussein crossing. The racism I have seen has been entirely directed towards Arabs; anything Arab is seen as suspect, particularly Palestinian Arab. Anyone with any level of Arab heritage is put under heightened scrutiny, and anyone with any Palestinian family is even more in question. Anyone who has citizenship in another country but has Palestinian heritage is going to have a difficult time even entering the country and can consider themself lucky if they succeed in doing so; that is true under any circumstances at any entry point. Furthermore, and this will sound bad: it’s contagious. If you have stamps from Arab countries in your passport, you’re suspect. If you have Arab friends or contacts, you’re even more suspect. I have seen the guards go through an American friend’s phone and, very accusingly, asked about every Arab name in her contact list. They then proceeded to ask her, again accusingly, if anyone had tried to convert her to Islam; the response was “absolutely not.”

As a white American with no Arab heritage, I’m lucky. I can get through the border in about two hours at King Hussein and in 15 minutes at Sheikh Hussein. Now that’s not the case for all Americans; one unlucky American friend who had gotten a concurrent passport was seen as suspect because her concurrent passport only had Jordanian stamps. She was then interrogated about her entire life by a few different people, also had her phone inspected, as well as her computer, and then was let out 6 hours later. I had already left because I thought she may have passed through during my vehicle inspection (after which I ended up having a lot of engine overheating problems). Anyone with any level of Palestinian heritage can expect to be stuck at the King Hussein crossing for an average of 4 hours if not more. A Jordanian, despite clear terms in the peace treaty, will probably find him or herself rejected at the border automatically.

I definitely have to address the issue of security. Every time I level any amount of criticism on Israeli policies, and believe me I’m not afraid to do so, even in front of uninformed but adamant colleagues, someone jumps on the security “justification.” Every country does have a right to maintain its own security, true. My first statement, I would say that pursuing security does not require degrading individuals, nor the vilification of individuals for having connections to Arabs, as I have often personally witnessed occurs at the border. Furthermore, from my own degree of experience, the policies pursued at the border are beyond the requirements of security. To put it bluntly, the policies on the border are intended to obstruct Palestinians from retaining any level of connection to Palestine. Please keep in mind that the West Bank and Gaza are not part of Israel. Even in Israeli law and most of its media, the West Bank and Gaza are referred to as occupied territories (though they often refer to the West Bank as “Judea and Samaria”).

There is a useful body of knowledge amongst expats and Middle East travelers if you’re ever traveling to an Israeli entry point. First, the questions: What is your name? What is your father’s name? What is his father’s name? What is your mother’s name? And her mother’s name? Where was your father from? Where is your mother from? And your grandparents? All of these questions are aimed at identifying any Arab roots; if one is discovered, the traveler is moved into a different track and will face additional questioning and inspections. Second: No matter wha,t you are not travelling into the West Bank. If they offer to issue you a visa to travel into the West Bank, you are still not traveling there, even if you want to go to Bethlehem, which is in the West Bank. There is no visa for the West Bank, it is just a trick to catch you, in which case you’ll be lucky even to be allowed into Israel. Third: You have limited ties to Arabs, and you do not speak Arabic. Yes, I have had to deny the fact that I speak Arabic, and was almost caught when they said something in Arabic and I nearly forgot to pretend I didn’t understand. This is the process for anyone, including Americans.

I just want to try to add a quick clarification of my sudden interest in writing about what I’m writing about in this little series. It’s kind of rooted in a thought after having given a presentation at an Amman hotel, to one of the Rotary clubs here. During and immediately following my presentation (and my co-scholar’s as well) I encountered a lot of criticism that we had not addressed what we have learned about the Palestinian issues in Jordan, Palestine, and Israel. To be fair, our presentation was to give some idea about our home to the people here, and was not to serve as a sort of “check on learning.” I wasted no time in making sure our hosts understood that fact, diplomatically of course, being a student of diplomacy. But I would be remiss if I didn’t give their point of view any value. So, since my goal is to share what I learn here with everyone at home, this series of posts is my attempt to share my perspective on some of the issues surrounding Palestine.

2011-04-22T12:00:00.000-07:00

New post so soon? Yes, I’m motivated to tell some tales of furthering the Rotary mission by spreading goodwill and understanding.
The next sentence, all five words of it, may get me into some trouble somewhere along the line but I think it’s worth it all things considered. I went to Palestine yesterday. I do mean Palestine, as in the area nominally governed by the Palestinian Authority, specifically Ramallah; I’m not ready to tackle all of the political issues surrounding The Conflict here in a humble blog which is intended to record my exploits as an ambassador of goodwill.
About a year ago, someone I consider something of a mentor advised me that, when talking to a large audience, I should “focus on the positive things I can say truthfully and, of course don’t be dishonest, but try not to denigrate other things.” I really liked the thought, and, thinking about it, it kind of reminds me of one of my favorite Disney quotes:
“If you can’t say somethin’ nice, then don’t say anything at all.” (Thumper, Bambi)

So, in the spirit of that advice, I won't speak about my experience at the Israeli border crossing, but I'm happy I can talk about my entire experience in Palestine, which was nothing short of amazing. I’ll explain in a later post, but I magically managed to be driving my car (my beautiful 1996 Jeep Cherokee which I need to take better care of). Trying to reach the city, which is just north of Jerusalem (known as Al-Quds in Arabic), I was completely lost driving along the separation wall. I decided to admit defeat, hang up my pride, and do the unthinkable: ask for directions. My first surprise when I stopped at a gas station was that the gentleman I asked responded immediately in Arabic, which is often not the case in Amman. Second surprise and long story short, I ended up with an elderly Palestinian man in my car showing me where to go.He got out of the car eventually, so he could head to Jerusalem, but he gave me exact directions to the Ramallah Movenpick, where I was scheduled to give a presentation to the Ramallah Rotary Club (is that the first time I mentioned my presentation?).

Driving through Ramallah 10 minutes later, completely lost, despite the precise directions my new friend had given me, I managed to get caught up in the after-school rush between the old Quaker schools, one for boys, the other for girls. I made it through, however, to my dismay, I ended up in the middle of town caught in a flood of people and stalled my car. No problem, just restart it right?...Turn the key…and no go. Immediately I am swarmed by about ten guys, who help me out of the street and started helping me to try to start my car.

First go, try second-gear rolling start. No go. Then another guy jumped in to try it just in case. Still no good. Okay, so I pop the hood and now I have about 6 guys around giving advice. One guy is visiting after some 40 years away; his current home is Florida, where he teaches English and has a family. After a while we determine the motor is overheated, which is baffling to me since I’d never had a problem before, my coolant was full, and my engine oil level was a solid “safe.” So one guy, Mohammed Muathin, a middle-age, tall lanky guy, decided to chill out with me and drink some tea. So we chat for about 30 minutes and decide to try the car again. Still no.

At that point we decide to try the Kahribajii (electrician) or find a mechanic. We roll around Ramallah in a taxi talking to different kahribajiis and nobody can help us because they didn’t have an ampere gauge. Finally we find one guy, ‘Ali, in the middle of one of the refugee camps who can help. We go back to my car with his gear, he tells me to turn the key because he wants to see if there’s a spark, and lo and behold the car starts. Go figure, bring the mechanic and the car behaves. Both the mechanic and Mohammed jump into my car and we roll back into the refugee camp to ‘Ali’s garage so he could double check everything.

The car problem has persisted, but so far I’ve been able to avoid catastrophic failure, despite some close calls. Anyway, Mohammed then drove off with me to take me to the Movenpick. At this point, Mohammed had been with me for three hours… just took three hours out of his day to help me out. Amazing.

So I go to the meeting to give my presentation. I end up only talking for about 5 minutes or so because they had a packed schedule, but I feel really good about what I got to say. Somehow the shorter time I had to speak forced me to be more focused on the message and I think consequently more poignant, thereby better achieving my goal of sharing a little about my home and hopefully bringing it closer to Ramallah.

Afterwards I took my friend, Laura, who was giving her own presentation, around (I haven’t mentioned her to this point because her journey to Ramallah had suddenly and somewhat disturbingly diverged from my own. In keeping with the positivity message, I decided to exclude that part for this blog, I'll just say she was held up at the border for almost 6 hours). I was taking her to meet her friend, a Ramallahan, with whom she was staying. We wander through the very confusing streets of Ramallah, which is spread over a few winding hills, necessitating winding streets. Finally coming into where we needed to go, at about 9:30pm, in the pitch black, my car dies again.

At this point, after all of the difficulties of the day, many of which I’ve not discussed, I’m getting pretty frustrate, as you might imagine. But along came Laura’s friend, Ahmed, and his company, who help me move the car out of the road to cool down. He then announced “Well, nothing to do now but wait then, so come have a drink with us and watch the soccer game.” So I went to hang out with them in downtown Ramallah. After about an hour, I decided I needed to get going because I was heading back over the border to get to class the next day. Ahmed then came along with me, helped me start the car, and took me all the way into the hotel where I was staying.

I woke up early to get an early start to the border. Scratch that- I got completely lost again. I drove across pretty much every corner of Ramallah and its outskirts thinking I was heading in the right direction. Finally, when I realized how hopelessly lost I was, I asked for help and ended up with another nice gentleman in my car who was heading my way again. When I dropped him off, he gave me directions to where I needed to go, I headed about 100 meters down the road, turned the corner, and my car promptly died again. Great.

So I get out, get some water and try to wait for my engine to cool down. I ended up being in the way of a small supply truck and when I told them what was up, they immediately began going through ways to help. After about 15 minutes, we decided to try the rolling start method and- surprise, surprise- it works. As I’m thanking the two guys who helped me by pushing, out walks one of the guys from the day before who smiles, we great each other, and he happily points me in the right direction to get back to the bridge.

That’s pretty much the end of the story of my time in Palestine, as far as the interesting part, anyway. I learned a lot; even things I knew beforehand and had seen beforehand, seeing it all again simply drove the lessons deeper. But since I plan on at least one or two more posts about this trip, I’ll spare more reading for this post and include those lessons later.
As always, thank you for your interest!

Respectfully,

Brennan

2011-04-19T08:34:00.000-07:00

To be straightforward, I have had a number of problems in beginning this post. Other than my own mental blocks, I’ve reached another fever pitch of potential topics on which I would like to write, all of them bouncing around in my head. It’s something of a catch 22 where I just put off doing the writing and then more potential topics build up and then I put it off even more… After sitting on it for a long time, I think I’ve decided I will talk about two things. First, I will make good on my promise to tell the story of Dr. Fear, for a lighthearted break in my one-person cacophony of political indignity. Then I will discuss some things that are bothering me about general conceptions from the West about the Middle East… in other words resuming that one-person cacophony.

So the story of Dr. Fear: Dr. Fear is my Methods of Research in Political Science professor. I debated for a while with myself whether to call him Dr. Fear or Dr. Dreams. Fear came from our first class, which he began by asking “Who has fear?” A number of people raised their hands timidly, in response. He then asked, “Who does not have fear?” A number of others of us raised our hands, of course me among them in order to establish my macho confidence which every young 23 year old guy is supposed to have (… right?). He looked us all over and said “I don’t believe you.” But then he looked at me, pointed, and said “Except maybe you.” I’m not sure why, maybe because I looked different from everyone else in class, but I wasn’t really sure how to respond.

I was set on calling him Dr. Fear from then on, somewhat wryly, until he gave a completely off-the-cuff speech on the importance of our work. Now I know a lot of people question the aim of the political, or “soft,” sciences and often outright scoff at them. Not surprisingly, I find myself somewhat defensive of my chosen track in those “soft” sciences, but I’ve never been extremely articulate in my own stance. Dr. Fear, interrupting himself in the middle of a lecture, suddenly asked “Why is political science important? Why is our work important and why is it important we actually seek the truth?” He looked at our blank faces for a second, and sensed our panic (you can imagine, a professor who begins his first class with “who has fear?” is not going to be the easiest professor). He answered himself by saying “Because politics directly impacts peoples’ lives. It impacts their livelihood. But more than that, it impacts peoples’ dreams! And bad policies not only hurt lives, they can destroy peoples’ dreams! That’s why we do what we do!”

That tangent brought me a whole heap of respect for this Professor, whose real name is Zaid ‘Eyadat, because he’s right. I think back to my friend Khalid, whose own dreams are so restricted by his identity as a Palestinian in Jordan; and Jordan is certainly not the only country in the world in which dreams and hopes are destroyed and lives are deeply impacted by politics and political decisions. As poignant and articulate as Dr. Fear’s speech on dreams was and despite the impact it had on me personally, given the dilemma between naming someone Dr. Fear and Dr. Dreams and being the young macho guy, I had to go with Dr. Fear. It just sounds so much cooler.

To conclude, quickly, I’d just like to comment on something that has bothered me in a lot of ways over the past few weeks as a result of numerous comments of a type that, at one point, I thought were simple banter. I’ve recently come to realize there is a large, if not dominant, aspect of an insidious yet subtle seriousness hidden within those comments. So:
Despite the tendencies of popular portrayal, such as on wayward covers of Newsweek or “scholarly articles” depicting the common Western conception of an Arab Muslim complete with horns, fangs, and wild unkempt hair, the Middle East is not full of demons. Women are not attacked in the streets for not veiling their faces. Men are not required to wear a crazy-long unkempt beard, except in the most crazy-unkempt places, such as the former Taliban held Afghanistan, which in all honesty should not even be considered part of the Middle East to begin with. Here in Jordan, you never see a weapon (meaning a rifle or “gun”) in the streets except for those carried by the police or the internal Gendarme. In fact, having inquired into the process, it is much more difficult to acquire and keep an assault weapon here in Jordan than it is to do so in the vast majority of the United States, where I would be able to attain one in days if I so wanted. I’m not saying that to knock on the United States, I am saying that to praise some aspects of the Middle East and try to confer the sense that for all of its negative reputation, the Middle East is not a terrorist filled wild-west scenario. In fact, by far the most dangerous part of my day is driving, but that might be said for any place in the world.

Thank you for your interest. I hope I said something worth reading.

Brennan

2011-03-14T18:06:00.001-07:00

I guess it was inevitable from the beginning that this blog would come to deal primarily with politics, being young, idealistic, and passionate about politics as I am, but it is something I sort of lament because it’s a little trite. Give a guy a megaphone and he’ll start talking, and then he’ll like the sound of his voice and keep talking. I guess it’s good that I only think my little blog is a megaphone and it isn’t really, just a place for me to share my experiences with my home community.

This entry is going to get a little… indirect, but I swear that it does ultimately have a focus-slash-message that is pertinent, even to those of us not involved in studying the methodology of scientific enquiry in political subjects. That’s right, this entry stems from a number of oddly interconnected thoughts and discussions that would not have any real relationship except that they have all come in a recent flurry.

So for my Methods of Scientific Research in Political Science class, for code-name Dr. Fear (I promise, I will make good on my previous promise to tell the story of Dr. Fear… one day… in sha’ Allah), I had to give a presentation on the history of science as described by Thomas Kuhn, and the lessons he extracted thereby. One of the major messages Kuhn extracted from his own explorations was that for progress in a given field, a crucial element was communication between different scientists. He felt that in order to improve understanding and truly advance, scientists needed to be able to compare theories and thoughts based on what they had in common between them, and then work to reconcile the points of diversion. Thus, in his presentations and discussions, Kuhn was notable for his tendency to try to build agreement on certain issues before delving into points of contention with his own views. This was something that struck a chord with me because it’s something I feel is appropriate in any circumstances in which people interact.

Just to cover my bases, arguably the main purpose of this blog, my scholarship, and my time here in Jordan is to share my experiences and what I’m learning with my home community.

As anyone who’s been reading my recent blogs may have noticed, I’ve been preoccupied largely with what’s been going on at home, in the media, when it comes to what’s going on over here, on the ground. I’ve gotten on my little soap box and made indirect but not so subtle references to theories about what the future is for this region and even references to specific academics, such as Bernard Lewis, and expressed my opinion of them in no uncertain terms. This is a continuing theme. But now I’m kind of interested in the bigger picture, not just what one man with a camera is saying, but rather the larger discourse.

This interest- concern, even- was fed yesterday when I ran into a… colleague/ superior who is doing a similar program, meaning he is on a private scholarship through the permission of the military (in his case the Air Force). The big difference is that he is doing his over the course of two years and he also happens to be a Captain… with much more experience and credibility than I have. Mark- he told me to use first names- is now doing his thesis, in which he is studying American discourse on Islam. He said that this developed at the last minute from his personal attempts to learn more about Islam and his inability to find truly objective analyses: either authors were too inclined towards Islam and glossed over contentious issues or were radically critical of Islam and used false logic to support their negative preconceptions, and then pass it off as study.

The point of this entry is to emphasize that the problem that Mark encountered has serious consequences for us. It boils down to this: where does the honest enquirer in the U.S. turn to find information and analyses about Islam? I remember seeing a Newsweek issue a few years ago, the front cover of which depicted a group of very angry men in Pakistan, all bearded, one bearing his teeth, and the title declaring Pakistan to be the most dangerous country to the U.S. or something along those lines. These images create negative, fear-based perceptions and those perceptions frame our conclusions. To confound the issue, rhetoric from authors such as Robert Spencer, Pamella Geller and Bat Ye’or, or from ideologues such as Brigitte Gabriel, panders to the same fear-based perceptions. Yet this rhetoric, sold as scientifically deduced analysis, is often based on spurious causal relationships, cherry-picked empirical data, and poor or even deliberately misleading logic chains (thank you Methodology, yet again). The result is misunderstanding, mistrust, and ultimately conflict and mutual hatred. And that’s what concerns me; hence, this entry.

In the spirit of Kuhn, I tend to want to focus on what people share, because in my travel experiences, for one reason or another, I have tended to be blown away by the fundamental similarities between people of far-flung places, rather than the differences (which I often perceive as superficial differences, anyway). I’m no expert on Islam and I would never pretend to be. I’m also no expert on the discourse surrounding Islam, positive or negative; I can squarely leave that claim for Mark as he has managed to read a mind blowing body of literature regarding the subject (something like 40 books in the last 2 months). That said, I am at least literate in many of Islam’s facets and its controversies, and I feel like I can say with some confidence that it is not an evil, concerted threat to all things good in the world.

I realize that there is some danger in what I’m saying. But I also feel it’s important. One person cannot adequately serve as cultural bridge, and still I hope what I say and share can have an impact and might inspire further inquiry or curiosity. The seemingly vast distance between this part of the world and my home is not so great as one might imagine; it only seems so when the focus is on divisions, not what’s shared.

I hope you I didn’t put you to sleep during this entry… as always, thank you for your interest.

Respectfully,

Brennan

2011-03-01T04:39:00.000-08:00

I guess it’s time for another update on what’s going on here in Jordan, because the Middle East continues to be in turmoil. This time, I feel compelled to include a number of other things, such as what’s going on in other countries and some commentary on things being said in the U.S.

But first, to set the tone, I’d like to recount a story that, for me, had a lesson. A few days ago I walked to my car from the University, with my girlfriend. It was parked in a big, open parking lot where a number of students (= $) park. There was a young boy there selling packets of gum, speaking an odd, rural Arabic that I had difficulty understanding. My girlfriend, being the very generous person she is, bought a pack of gum and hoped he'd go away; of course, it simply had the opposite effect because he started to hassle me more. No problem though, I just repeated “No, I don’t want any.”

The next day I returned to the parking lot and my new friend was waiting to very generously help guide me in to a parking spot. He then continued to hassle me as I collected my things to get out of the car. When I told him I still didn’t want any he promptly bent over, picked up a rock and told me in very clear Arabic that if I don’t buy any, he would scratch up the side of my car when I was gone. At that point I was a little surprised and felt a little put on. The temptation would be to throw up my hands and say: “Ah! The third world,” or even worse, “Ah! Arabs.” Having spent time with a number of different groups of people, I expect those would be the two most common reactions from foreigners. But then I realized I had a number of options and that similar things happen everywhere in the world, from the Middle East, to Asia, to Europe and the U.S.

Of course, like most people, I’m not a fan of being coerced by threats, so I decided not to play his game. I told him to wait just a second as I fiddled in my bag, pulling out my camera (now I’m going to get in trouble because I’m admitting that my camera does travel, but I promise, it was a complete accident and I rarely remember to bring it anywhere…). So I quickly turned, snapped a quick picture of his surprised face, and told him in clear Arabic that if I came back and my car was scratched, then the policeman just up the hill would get a nice clear picture of the perpetrator. The poor kid didn’t really know what to do, but his brother came over and assured me he would take care of my car. So now, I really do have a new friend. The lesson I took away was that problems like that happen everywhere, people will try to get away with what they can, and the process for preventing it here is not so different from home.

So, politics. To begin, I’m bursting to shoot some holes in some fears being expressed and disseminated by some popular TV personalities. I will try my best to be relatively neutral and not condescending. I have to admit that I’m something of an intellectual snob sometimes, which doesn’t help when I hear someone with a camera discuss and analyze something they obviously know nothing about. It makes it even worse when absolutely faulty logic is used alongside those poor analyses to make unsound predictions. So to the point: it would be extremely unlikely, reaching towards the point of impossibility, that any one organization or person is directing the unrest in the Middle East. There is no plot to create a new age Caliphate, uniting the Middle East, North Africa, and parts of Europe. Demonstrations in Ireland and the United Kingdom do not mean that they are on fire, or in any way seriously unstable, and that Russia is going to conquer Europe as a result. In addition, the Egyptian Revolution was not led by Islamists in the background (I do have a number of Egyptian friends, many of them college students or young professionals and many of them lawyers, in fact, as I have twice taken part in legal competitions at the American University in Cairo).

I’m not sure where to begin on supporting my refutations of the popular fears above. Easiest and simplest, namely, citing facts? Or addressing the more complex fears derived from faulty deductions?

Ultimately the most important thing to address is the fear of Islam and “the Muslims.” It is essentially impossible to say there is a monolithic “Muslim” identity. There are too many different types of Islam (as I've noted in a previous post) to even claim there is one "Mulsim Identity." Just as a side note, this is why Bernard Lewis is incorrect in his histories and analyses of "Muslim World" politics (see "The Roots of Muslim Rage"). Even if there were, the tendency at this point in history is for people to identify more with their nationality and heritage than to the religion. Syria, for example, has a rich multi-religious history of which many Syrians are proud. Islam is also not a violent religion, any more than any other religion can be such. For an example, one can look at the Amman Message or the Universal Islamic Declaration of Human Rights (which isn’t always followed, just as the Universal Declaration of Human Rights from the UN is also not always followed). Acts of violence are perpetrated by members of any and every religion.

Showing film clips of a lady wearing a hijab (not a requirement in Islam) yelling about how “WE hate America” and “WE hate Israel” is a great way to fear-monger. The important thing to remember when watching those clips, whether they are on CNN, Fox, or a talk show, is that they are consciously making a choice of what to show out of a plethora of different clips and one person in the middle of the millions in the Cairo protests does not define the sentiments of the entirety. That particular lady was using “We” very loosely. The circumstances might be comparable to a reporter going to the protests against the mosque in Murfreesboro and taping one person in the crowd saying, “We hate Muslims,” and then that same reporter claiming that all Americans hate Muslims.

Just to conclude: I promise I’m not going to get emotional and teary to tell you I think these issues are important. I think people need to be informed; and while analyses of information are necessary, pandering them as fact is deceitful. If anyone reading has any particular questions, would like me to explicitly support my claims above, or would even like to start a dialogue and challenge my views, I welcome the contact at my email brennanroorda@yahoo.com. And I promise I am much less combative in actual dialogue than I am when I’m on a soapbox… which I feel like this blog has become.

Thank you for your interest!

Brennan Roorda

2011-02-16T02:30:00.000-08:00

Week… something.

I’ll try to make this a quick update. Part of my problem with this blog, I feel, is I’m a little over ambitious by trying to make each update an entire page, not double spaced. It seems that might be a little much as a Master’s student, especially at the end of a given semester when papers and exams are happening, or at the beginning of a semester in which one must submit a 15 page thesis proposal (I’m not sure if that’s normal for most Master’s programs, but it seems to me that 15 pages for a research question is… a bit much).

Okay, I have many many things to describe and write about and honestly I’m torn about what to write about. Possibly my brief but fun trip to the US? The end of my first semester and the confusion of testing here? Maybe the process of enrolling in classes for a second term? (Though to be honest, if you want to know about that, you could go back to one of my earlier entries and read about enrolling for the first semester; just condense that process to two weeks and cut out the government bureaucracy aspect, then you’ll get a similar picture). I could also describe my first two weeks of classes which has been interesting in itself… with odd characters I will have to describe at some point in the coming weeks. (Quote from one professor: “Who has fear?... I don't believe you.”).

I guess in all fairness I should probably give my attention, in this update, to what many people back at home are concerned about: the Middle East unrest. First and foremost, despite what many at home might be hearing, Jordan is very stable. When I returned from the US, I got some indication that there was a lot of worry about how I was doing and about what was going on. To be honest, I was absolutely baffled about the level of worry… until I checked the CNN website and started looking at what’s being said and implied, both on their TV programs and in their articles. And to be honest again, I was a little disappointed because the flagrant “sensationalization” of the situation seemed outright deceitful. To be fair, the King did fire the Prime Minister, and as one article pointed out “after a month of protests.” What that particular article failed to point out was that those protests were only once a week, small, very organized, and the police were handing out water and snacks during the entire process. The bottom line is that Jordan is not Egypt, not Tunisia, not Yemen… not Bahrain… nor Algeria... etc. The people here know that Jordan is small and not blessed with many natural resources, that the King is a true Jordanian and he is not given to corruption or enriching his own family. He is known as a pragmatic (military) man who truly does seek to better the economic situation of common Jordanians and who has Palestinian Jordanian interests in mind, but an East Bank Jordanian (Tribal, Bedouin) heart.

Let me take a second to get on a soapbox real quick and say this is exactly why scholars like Samuel Huntington and Bernard Lewis are absolutely wrong, when it comes to “the Muslim World” or the “Arab World.” There is no real "civilizational" divide. Human sciences is a painting composed of complex details, not broad brushs strokes and to attempt to explain it as such is to fundamentally (and dangeroulsy) misunderstand the painting. The Middle East is, in my mind, the best description for the region because it is a geographical term (though orignially based in an American comparative perspective). It does not use a religion to describe the region, which is abundant with various religions, even multiple sects within many of those religions, and those religions have different levels of impact on society as a whole. It does not use an ethnic term to describe the region, which might be more accurate than any religious terminology, but still misses the point. One of the biggest similarities from country to country in this region when looked at closely- and this is becoming most evident now- is that the regimes are generally Authoritarian in type (Thank you Comparative Politics). This is a political distinction, not uniform, and ultimately transitory. Thus the Middle East, the geographic, stable, and most accurate designator for the region, is experiencing unrest. There are a lot of reasons for the unrest… which I don’t even want to get into now because that would be a thesis unto itself.

Please forgive my… aggressive tone… if that was perceived in this update. The subject is something I’m pretty passionate about. I hope to have an opportunity to continue talking about it in later posts and I will certainly bring back my lessons from Jordan and the Middle East personally, to give some presence to the message. Finally... for those who were hoping for a quick update... I apologize. I feel like there must be something about soapboxes that extends messages and makes people get carried away.

As always, thank you for your interest!

2010-12-18T06:12:00.000-08:00

Week Nineteen:

This past few weeks has been busy and full of a lot of activity. Enough has gone on that I’m not entirely sure where to begin… so I guess I’ll try to hit high points and sum up.
I believe my last post was right before Thanksgiving, which seems like forever ago. One of the activities that took up a bit of time over the past weeks was the English class I have been teaching, affiliated with the Jesuit Refugee Service here in Amman. The program period is now over, the graduation ceremony was Thursday afternoon, but the next “semester” is set to begin on January 3rd. For the last few classes that I taught we had some excellent discussions. One class, right on Thanksgiving Day, we spoke about holidays and learned about different family traditions. The next class we spoke about sports, both popular U.S. sports as well as more international sports. I had a fun time trying to explain the rules of American Football, particularly when I had to switch to Arabic for some of the more complex explanations. Finally for my last class, we wrapped up with music. There were some students who knew very much about U.S. music, surprisingly. I also got one class, with the older professionals, engaged in a very serious discussion about a popular singer here in the Middle East named Haifa Wehbie. It turned into a multi-party yelling match, mostly divided along gender lines, yelling as to whether Haifa classified as music or not and why all women hate Haifa (which is not true, of course). It reminded me a lot of the debates about Britney Spears between adults, when I was a younger kid.
I’ve also been spending a lot of time writing, reading, and studying. I believe I’m at about 60 pages of writing for the semester on various issues, but primarily on nuclear energy and diplomacy. Hopefully this will translate into a better time for my Master’s thesis, which is looming and slightly scary (I’m not sure how many pages are expected, but I’ve heard anywhere from 100 to 200).My midterm tests are now, finally, all done, as well, about ¾’s of the way through the semester. Now, it’s just to spend the last few weeks writing, researching, and preparing for my final tests which should start in about three weeks. As long as everything goes well, I should be home for just a short period in mid-January.
Today’s adventures were, to my mind, the most interesting of my recent adventures (as well as the freshest in my memory, naturally). As I’m still living in the American Center for Oriental Research and still predominantly around archeologists, I have a few odd opportunities. Today I was able to help an Australian archeologist with a questionnaire that is part of her research, taking it to a small, very poor town on the southern edge of Amman. The town is thought to have had one of the souqs (markets) of Philadelphia, which was originally a Roman city in or around modern day Amman. It also contains a number of different, cool archeological sites, including a few churches and an old Roman shrine or mausoleum. Residents of the modern town, because the economic situation is not very good, sometimes make direct use of things, such as gates, signs, and fences, brought in by the government for the archeological sites… ie they steal it and use it for their houses. On the one hand, one might get angry that the residents are stealing public property and not caring so much for the sites. On the other, I think it might be possible to find a little sympathy when you see that gate on someone’s front door or the sign serving as another person’s roof. We gave the questionnaire to a number of shopkeepers along the town’s main street, focusing mainly on locals, and trying to stay away from those who might live in Amman proper (though I don’t think we would have found too many). We also were attended to by a large number of curious kids, all wanting to see what we were doing, but a little too shy to ask directly. All in all, it was an awesome experience and I hope to have more, similar opportunities in the coming weeks and months.
I hope you enjoyed this update, and I’ll try to be a little more regular about it over the next few weeks! Thank you for your interest!

Respectfully,

Brennan Roorda

2010-11-22T00:02:00.001-08:00

Week Fifteen:

These past two weeks have been busy with work on papers and tests as I also prepared for and then went on Eid holidays.

Eid al-AdHa, the feast or festival of the sacrifice, is an Islamic celebration that is conducted in the middle of Dhu li-Hajj, the last month of the Islamic calendar. The feast itself is meant to commemorate and honor Abraham’s act of faith in being willing to sacrifice his son at God’s command. As I’ve noted in past blogs, Islam sees itself as a continuation of the message of God from Judaism and Christianity, and thus shares many of the stories and prophets of both religions. The difference in the story of Abraham between Islam and the older two religions is that Islam teaches that Ishmael (Ismail, in Arabic) was the son to be sacrificed. The celebration involves sacrificing a sheep and then sharing the meat with family, relatives, and the poor. Similar to Eid al-Fitr, as I talked about in a previous post, the three days of Eid involve a lot of time with family and relatives (which, in the view of some of my Jordanian Muslim friends, can be a mixed blessing). Dhu li-Hajj is, as noted above, the last month of the Islamic calendar and the month in which pilgrims conduct the Greater Pilgrimage to Mecca, taking part in a three day long ceremony which involves rituals and prayer. This year’s Hajj involved upwards of two million people.

For my part, we had a week off from University, and they decided to cancel our Sunday classes at the last minute, and shift them all to the following Saturday (which is usually the second day of the weekend).To be honest it was a little frustrating getting that news the day before (I would have shown up to class and wondered why no one was around) because I could have made plans earlier; but then I guess that’s kind of how things run at the University sometimes (kind of like the admission process I spoke of in an earlier post). Also, the research center where I’ve been staying was more or less closed for the Eid holidays and pretty much everyone left to travel. Since I didn’t have plans for the first day of the break and since there were still a few people around we decided to have an ACOR dinner party, and I ended up making four pizzas for seven people (different tastes make it tough to accomodate sometimes, but I enjoyed making them anyway).

Quick side note, I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned before how much I like cooking. Thanks mostly to watching my mom in the kitchen for years, I’ve kind of started to pick up a number of dishes, mostly Italian, that I enjoy sharing with my fellow residents. I also stole my mom’s cookie recipe (please don’t tell her!) and made those as well, though we had a funny incident where someone passing through the residence thought they were up for grabs (despite clear marking indicating otherwise) and took five or six, so we were almost short for the dinner party.

So the rest of Eid I spent traveling around; I went and saw some sites up north that I hadn’t yet had a chance to visit and that many people have told me I have to see. Once again, Rotary connections helped out and I was able to stay with a friend from the Rotary orientation last December; she and her friends, who are studying Arabic, had an extra couch that worked great as a temporary bed. It was great to get a change of scenery and to meet new people, as well as to experience a slightly different culture from Amman. I also got to meet a number of students traveling from Cairo, visiting their friends. It’s fascinating how small the expat student community is here in the Middle East; some of the students from Cairo also happened to know a fellow resident of ACOR in Amman. It always surprises me how small the world gets when you travel around.

The people up north were fun. Their accent was really interesting to listen to, and while I understood most of what was said, it would take me just a split second longer to process it. In general the accent sounded like there was a little bit more air in their mouths and, in all honesty, it was a little bit more effeminate, which tends to be the case in the Syrian- Lebanese dialect as well as the Ammani female dialect (yep, there are male and female dialects here in Amman). I also discovered in myself a sense of pride in my own area’s culture and dialect, which is harsher and tends to be a little more masculine, due to the specifically Bedouin influence. While wandering around with my friend (Noorjahan), we decided to jump on a bus end explore some places that neither of us had been. Unfortunately, most everything was closed due to Eid, but I did get to have an hour long conversation with a ten year old boy on the bus, who liked talking about sports and musicians (particularly one Lebanese-Canadian singer stage-named Massari or "Money"). It reminded me of a similar conversation I had with a ten year old Colombian boy on the plane back from Spain, after graduating from high school (except the Colombian boy was interested in Shakira).

That’s it for this update. Thank you very much for your interest and I hope you enjoyed!

Respectfully,

Brennan

2010-11-07T06:27:00.001-08:00

Week Thirteen:

Once again I skipped a week of posting, and unfortunately I have no excuse except that I let the time get away from me. It seems a little odd that I am on week thirteen of my time here; it doesn’t seem so long. I certainly had enough to write about last week as I had gone out and about with a group of archeologists to a Hellenistic palace, and I did have pictures as each of those archeologists had a camera and kindly shared their photos with me.

The people who have been around ACOR, the archeological research center that is my home for this year, for the past few weeks and months are just an incredible group. To be honest, it doesn’t do much for my work as a graduate student, but I can’t pass up the opportunity to spend time with such interesting and broadly experienced people. The group is pretty mixed, as far as nationality goess too. There are some Americans doing research for their PhDs. One gentleman was an ordained minister who became interested in the archeology of the region and went back to school; he is now is working night and day on his thesis, waiting for the appearance of “the thesis fairy” to help him in the final stages. There is also a young lady from Maine doing her work on Iron Age glassblowing in the region, and it is fascinating to hear about ancient techniques and how trade, resources, and technology affected the art of glassblowing during that time period. There is a large group of Australians, so many in fact that we joke about the name of the center changing from the American to the Australian Center for Oriental Research. They are a really fun group, with a slightly different perspective on the world. It’s cool to be able to have intelligent conversations about everything from military issues and world politics to generational music and whose generation has the best love songs, all the while joking and laughing. We’re actually planning to grill out (or as someone who likes to give me a hard time for my Americanisms would say, “We’re planning a Barbecue”) sometime this week in celebration of the upcoming ‘Eid al-Adha; I’ll be in charge of the grill.

So I’ve finally found a consistent place to volunteer for a while. I just sort of fell into it, actually through a young (Australian) lady named Rose here at the center who is doing research for her Masters on nationality and women in Jordan. So now I will be helping to teach English on Thursday evenings to three groups of Iraqis, for about an hour for each group. I’m not entirely sure how it all worked out, it kind of happened quickly and without a plan. My friend Rose asked me if I could help put together a lesson plan. Then she asked if I’d like to come along to class and I decided it would be good, seeing it as an opportunity to help out for a class and maybe even give a quick presentation about Rotary. During the first class, I really only served as a back-up, walking around and helping to clarify difficult concepts for people, but I was able to introduce myself, talk about Rotary, and explain Rotary International’s mission of spreading goodwill and understanding. During the second class, I took the content part of the lesson and had a blast going over words and phrases (focusing on political vocabulary and election vocabulary because of the upcoming elections here in Jordan). Finally, during the third period, which was full of older professionals from Iraq, I took the beginning part of the lesson which was actually tougher and made me more nervous than the content part of the lesson. Somewhere in the whirlwind mix class and talking to people, the director of the school came in to check on progress and talk to Rose and she asked if I would be interested in taking Thursday evenings every week. So I agreed and there we go. Now I have a weekly class, just three to four hours a week and I’m teaching English. It should be a lot of fun.

I hope you enjoyed this week’s update! Thank you for your interest.

Respectfully,
Brennan Roorda

2010-10-23T23:46:00.000-07:00

Week Eleven:

School is definitely in full swing. I think I may end up writing at least 300 pages of research papers for the various classes and my thesis (though it possibly may end up being more). Honestly, it’s kind of exciting as much as it is daunting. I have had fun reading a lot, particularly some of the classics of international relations and its theory. It’s also been a fascinating experience to hear and start to understand an outside perspective on international relations and even United States foreign policy.

Something I think I’ve neglected to address thus far in my posts is the Embassy and expat social scene. Being someone who enjoys pushing bounds (to a certain extent…) and getting outside the limits of past experiences, I have tried not to spend way too much time in Embassy social events. That’s simply because it would be easy to get comfortable around fellow Americans and speaking English. That said, I have found it interesting to take part in some of the events and parties that go on in and around the U.S. Embassy community.

The first, and most impressive, party I attended was kind of a shock, to be completely honest. I was informed of the event and invited the day before it was held. The invitation I got was by word of mouth, just in passing, and from the sound of it I felt like it would be a small social function for one of the sections at the Embassy (there are multiple sections, such as those for military cooperation, consular affairs, and economic coordination). I asked for a little more information from my former superior in the MAP office and he seemed pretty nonchalant about it as well (“just a nice collared shirt and maybe jeans or something”). So I drive up and the party is absolutely not at all what I was expecting; luckily I had dressed significantly nicer than what I had been advised to wear, and I was very thankful for that. Most of the employees at the Embassy were present along with a significant number of foreign diplomats and important figures from Jordan. Thinking back on the event (and here I’m going to get kind of lame, fair warning) it kind of fits into something from one of my books, Politics Among Nations, where we are pursuing a “prestige policy.” That is, where states sort of look to increase their prestige by diplomatic niceties, shows of military force and prowess, or direct personal exchanges, such as parties.

I’ve had the pleasure of attending a few other events at or around the Embassy, such as a birthday party for two of my superiors (both Army) and most recently a small “Oktoberfest.” I particularly enjoyed the Oktoberfest because, for the most part, things were kept relatively low key and it was fun having some structure to the event while having the freedom to meet others from the American community. In a way the social events serve to keep the American diplomatic and expat community connected. Furthermore, Jordan is promoted as a family friendly post for American diplomats, and such a well-connected community both spreads and substantiates that claim.

To wrap up, I just have to note that while it has been hugely beneficial to have my own car, I have missed the taxi drivers. I try to take good care of my car: cleaning it weekly, waxing it, checking up on the various functions. But last week I hit a wall that I couldn’t touch: broken compressor for the air conditioner. I took it to the shop and they said it would be most of the day, so I decided to go get some work done and come back. Two minutes after getting into a taxi, when the driver realized my Arabic was decent, I was treated to a very excited twenty minute political monologue (about the predominant political topic of the area). It was really well meaning and it was a lot of fun to listen to (though I think I kept my eyes on the road more than he did during the ride). It ended with him declaring, very appropriately, that my mission is “to return to the United States and share my experiences here.” He especially emphasized that I need to express that Americans and Arabs are not so different; everyone just wants to provide a life for themselves and their families. Interesting thought, something to consider.

Hope you enjoyed, thank you for your interest, and I apologize that I’m brutally neglectful of carrying my camera around… I’ll be traveling around this week, so I should be able to add a few pictures next week. يعني إن شاء اللّه

مع الإحترّام,

- برنّن روردا

2010-10-18T00:12:00.000-07:00

Week Ten:

Well I skipped a couple weeks, and I apologize for that. You know when you put something off and then the time seems to exponentially grow? I’m afraid that problem, along with a fear of being repetitive, stood between me and updates to the blog.

Another impediment to writing in the blog is fear of what I might find myself wanting to write about: politics. As I’m surrounded by politics and political discussions in class and in my studies, politics necessarily becomes a central theme in my life. Always I'm surrouded by discussions of America’s role in the world, the issue of Iran, or the ever present Palestinian-Israeli Conflict (which has been passionately debated in literally every single one of my lessons thus far). For better or worse, being a person who is enthralled by questions of politics both in studies and in practice, I basically can’t get a break from it because in addition to my classes I tend to fill my personal time looking at political news or reading books about politics. That disclaimer out of the way, I think I’ve found an outlet in that Jordan is currently having parliamentary elections and it has been a fascinating experience to be around to watch the process in the run up to those elections.

Before the beginning of the race, there was a lot of controversy regarding the electoral districts and electoral laws, particularly focused around the issue of candidacy and registration. As some background, Jordan has flirted with “Democratization” for a number of decades, starting under the late King Hussein (Allah yarhamhu, a phrase said in remembrance and respect for a person who has passed). Throughout the Democratization process, Jordan has had to keep a delicate balance between political, social, and economic development. Often, in the interest of keeping that balance, political development has had to take a back seat and has even been reversed to some extent; this has caused some political unrest and has led to the accusation by some regional scholars of dishonesty on the part of the monarchy. The moderate Islamist party, the Islamic Action Front, which has historical and organizational links to the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt, nearly decided not to participate in these elections due to what they felt were unfair restrictions and unfair electoral districts.

In the end, it seems that the stand-off right before the race passed and the race has begun. The change in the atmosphere in Amman was immediate, literally overnight, if only because the streets were lined with campaign posters and signs as soon as candidates could start their campaigns. Some candidates have banners hung across streets, with their name and a short catch phrase written in very artfully done Arabic. When I go to the Embassy to exercise or check up on mail I drive down a street through a wealthier part of town that is just lined with posters, somewhat reminiscent of our own political campaigns. Also,in trying to pay attention to local news, it seems there are two key issues for Jordanian democratic politics. The first is definitely enhancing confidence in the political system and getting people to actually vote; some in Jordan feel it doesn’t matter because no matter the result of the election, the King will remain as head of state and the true backbone of the regime (note: regime is not a bad word, it simply means the system of distribution of power within a state, thus the United States’ regime is generally known as a “democratic regime,” while Jordan’s might be characterized as primarily “authoritarian”).

The other fundamental issue is the role of Jordan’s tribes, and their rights with regard to candidacy. If you’ve ever gotten a chance to read the Seven Pillars of Wisdom, or see the movie Lawrence of Arabia, then you may have a window into the importance of tribe connections, particularly in Jordan where they are recognized political identities. Overall, I’m excited to see what happens at the end of the race and to see how Jordanians ultimately feel about the result.

Oh, and almost forgot, I'm also excited to see the result of our own elections, particularly our local ones, as I sent in my absentee ballot about two weeks ago. It's always a good feeling, especially when you're half way around the world. I also have to thank my Grandmother and Mother for their willingness to discuss some of the current issues in Oak Ridge and in Tennessee, their insights were very helpful in helping me to understand some of the more obscure questions (i.e. changes in the charter).

I hope you enjoyed the update, and as always, thank you for your interest!

Respectfully,

Brennan Roorda

2010-09-27T05:19:00.000-07:00

Week Eight:

This past week was full of firsts.
I had my first Master’s degree class on Sunday evening, beginning at 5 p.m. and ending at 8 p.m. It’s a long three hours for one class, though the professor did show up about 25 or 30 minutes late, so it actually didn’t start until 5:30. It was encouraging that the professor did have a written syllabus for us, along with required textbooks and useful websites. That said, I believe academic standards and endeavors here will be a little different from my previous experience.
On Monday afternoon, I had my first official Rotary club presentation. I presented along with two other Rotary Ambassadorial scholars here in Jordan to the Amman West club, which meets for lunch on Monday afternoons. It was an awesome experience and all of the members were very welcoming, very talkative, and very interested in each of our stories.
An unexpected side benefit of presenting with other scholars was that it was also very interesting to learn about each of them. One, Laura Kalb, is from a club in the East Phoenix Rotary region (yes, apparently the eastern half of Phoenix, Arizona, has its own entire region). She grew up in Maryland, graduated from a small undergraduate university in Pennsylvania, and then spent six years working for a non-governmental organization in Phoenix, helping primarily with refugees from Somalia. She is here in Jordan also for a year and is studying in the Conflict Resolution program at the University, actually in a couple of my classes as well. My other colleague, Ben Woodman, is from Kentucky. Ben got his undergrad degree from a small school in Kentucky but then went on to get a Master’s degree from Princeton. He also did a year abroad, studying at the American University in Cairo. Along with his studies, he has also spent quite a bit of time working for the Department of Defense as a Middle East political analyst. He was here representing a club from Washington D.C., where he had been living, but unfortunately and to my dismay, he’s had to cut short his scholarship and return to the U.S. to take up a job with the Treasury department, working in their Middle East division on finances and particularly Extremist Islamist financing (he hopes). For my presentation, I focused pretty heavily on our region of East Tennessee, the City of Oak Ridge, and on the Oak Ridge Breakfast Rotary Club, including information and pictures regarding the club’s major projects and programs.

Another first was the first rain of the season. It seemed really strange and out of place to find the day overcast and drizzly. It was kind of a nice break to see some variety in the weather, but it also added a new aspect to driving conditions, which are hazardous enough as it is, to say the least. That said, apparently the fact that we have had only one rain so far, this late into September, is odd. Following along on the weather line, I experienced my first (and second) dust storm. Dust storms, or tozz (with a short “o”), are pretty uncommon for this time of year in Jordan. This one rolled in similar to a khamsiiniat (“50’s”) wind, which is a period of roughly fifty days in late Spring and early Summer where the winds bring up dust from the South. The experience was not what I had imagined off a dust storm. I had a mental image of high winds and blowing sand; rather, this was similar to fog but with a brownish-yellowish hue, and it smelled like a construction site where someone has been cutting tile. Unfortunately, the storm drifted in while I was in class and I had decided to walk to school that night, so I got to see the various shades of brownish-yellow for a mile and a half walk back to ACOR (where I’m staying).
Other adventures for the week included meeting and debating with a Danish professor (whose lectures I got to attend in place of two separate classes, for the same professor). It was fascinating being able to hear his lectures, which were about the European Union and its relationship with the Mediterranean (such as Jordan, Lebanon, Israel, Palestine, Egypt, etc.). I also spent time with one of his students, a Bosnian-Danish guy, who was very cool to talk to and a lot of fun to hang out with, particularly because he had experience in the Danish military. And finally, I got to hang out with my friend Khalid once again; as always that was enlightening and an excellent opportunity to practice my Arabic.
This coming week, I’m looking to start on a number of different projects, including research for classes, research for my thesis, and possibly getting involved in a regular volunteering project. So insha’ Allah khair!
I hope you enjoyed the update and, as always, thank you for your interest!

Respectfully,

Brennan Roorda

2010-09-21T05:17:00.001-07:00

Week Seven:

Considering it’s the middle of the week, I feel like I’m way behind on this post. This weekend was particularly busy and with the start of classes, somehow I have managed to fill my days to the brim, often with last minute plans that go pretty late. That’s one cultural note, the tendency to stay out late at cafés doesn’t really end with Ramadan; things often stay that way year around.

So last week was my final week at the Embassy, working in the MAP (Military Assistance Program) office. It was definitely an educational time working in the Embassy, but honestly, I’m glad to be starting classes now and glad to be able to branch out and work closer with Rotary here in Amman. Most of the week at the Embassy was given to tying up my project and saying thank you to the people who helped me navigate some of the difficulties of establishing myself here in Jordan. I also took advantage of the decrease in my responsibilities to take one day to help out an archeologist living here at ACOR, and drive him down to a dig site to do inventory on the summer’s dig collection. Having a car, which I’m authorized to have, being connected to the military, is it allows a lot of freedom, as well as gives me the opportunity to help others out with transportation. It was also lucky that I came along to the dig site because the inventory ended up being more intensive than had originally been planned; at one point I ended up crawling through a window just to access the pottery. Overall, it was a very informative trip and I learned a lot about the world of archeology, which is pretty diverse and can actually be very demanding.

This weekend, as I mentioned, was also very busy. At the last minute I jumped on with a group going to a famous “eco-tourism” site called Wadi Mujib. Wadi Mujib is essentially a canyon cut into the Jordanian landscape by a river. The government of Jordan has recognized the inherent environmental value of this unique area and thus has sought to preserve its character, while still offering the opportunity for tourists and Jordanians alike to explore its beauty. So the area is now protected under a nature area reserve system, with this one naturally being called the Wadi Mujib Nature Reserve. The park has a primary entrance and there are a number of guided tours that take hikers through the mountains in the area as well as through the river itself. My group took the route that goes up (very steeply!) from the Dead Sea, into the mountains, travels along a path through what looks almost like a lunar landscape, and then drops down into the Wadi itself. Then the path takes you along and into the river. The river isn’t very deep, but it can be fast moving (and sometimes dangerous). Finally, our route culminated in a rappel down a waterfall, which was very cool. On a side note, if you’re ever wondering between a grocery bag and a waterfall who will win in a fight, I’d recommend betting on the waterfall… unfortunately I bet the opposite way and now my poor Jordanian cellphone has had to pay the price. I have yet to get a new one because I’m still in mourning for the last one.

The next day (again last minute) I jumped on with a group holding an end of the summer party for a group of Iraqi refugee children. The children had spent the summer with a program, doing art projects, music, and learning English. The kids’ ages varied between as young as 3 and as old as 14. The group that organized the party is run by an American lady named Sasha Crowe and an Iraqi gentleman named Ghazwan. The party itself was fascinating to see because it put in stark relief the many things we share and some of the differences across our cultures. A difference, for example, was that the party was opened with a short section from the Qur’an, read by one of the students. It was impressive to watch because recitation of the Qur’an (or iqra’) requires study, training, and practice, due to linguistic differences between Qur’anic Arabic and spoken Arabic, and due to the poetic construction of the Qur’an. Despite the difference in that it was a Qur’an being used to open the meeting, it did remind me of many gatherings in the U.S., which are often opened with a prayer. The kids were fun to watch because they were just typical kids, playing games, some dancing to music, and getting their faces painted. They all got prizes at the end, for their artwork and for staying with the program. It was fun to watch the parents too, because it was so like a social gathering at a school open house, with kids running around and parents socializing, some keeping an eye on their kids and some not (as tends to happen at open houses). Overall, it was a really good experience and I’m glad to have been able to take part.

That’s pretty much it for now. I hope this entry was fun and informative, and as always, thank you for your interest!

Respectfully,

Brennan Roorda

2010-09-13T03:38:00.000-07:00

Week Six:

As many might have heard, the holy month of Ramadan is now past and yesterday was the last official day of ‘Eid al-Fitr, the celebration for the end of the fast. Doing the fast was an experience but I can definitely say I was glad when the end of the month came around; not eating or drinking makes it difficult to be motivated to do anything during the day. With Labor Day and ‘Eid back to back, it was a very short week at the Embassy, and a lot of people take advantage of the slow time to take their vacations, so it was very slow at times as well. As classes begin on the 19th of September, my time at the Embassy will become more and more limited and I may take some time to explore a little more around Jordan.
Just as a quick update, this weekend I went with a coworker (an Army Reserve Captain) and a group of his friends up on a hike through one of the wadis that comes off of the Dead Sea. A wadi is basically a canyon cut into the desert by water, though it’s also used to describe a valley as well. The hike was fun and the wadi had a surprising amount of greenery, even now towards the end of summer. There were numerous opportunities to climb and explore and even swim some. The view from the campsite was incredible, and despite the heat, the air was extremely clear even across the Dead Sea, and we could easily see into the West Bank (as well as the lights of Jerusalem at night). One bit of advice for hiking and camping in the desert: bring lots of water AND a method to purify more, if need be. I’ll let readers read into that advice what they would like … Overall, the trip was great; a good group of people, a good place to see, and a great new experience.
The majority of this week’s post I’d actually prefer to focus not on what I’ve been up to, but rather tell about my new friend Khalid, who I met at the beginning of this week. He’s a colleague of another friend, with whom I may end up training and hopefully boxing in the near future. Khalid is one of those people who strengthen my belief that people from different parts of the world are not as different as they might seem through the television or newspapers. I had the opportunity to go and hang out with Khalid last night for a few hours, and reflecting back, it was a truly incredible conversation.
Khalid is 26 years old. He is from a Palestinian family but he himself was born in Jordan, in one of the refugee camps nearby to Amman. He finished his studies at a small university four years ago, with a bachelor’s degree in English Literature. He’s a pretty devout Muslim, but not overbearing, he’s just willing to talk about his faith if someone else asks. Since graduating, he’s been teaching third and fourth grade at the United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA)* School in his refugee camp, focusing particularly on teaching English. Khalid is self-admittedly addicted to the internet. He’s a pretty outgoing guy so he’ll be on Facebook meeting people and even on English phone-call sites so he can practice speaking English. Unfortunately, as many know, people who are kind hearted and outgoing at the same time can sometimes be taken advantage of, which seems to be Khalid’s problem. It sounded like he’d had online trouble from with everything from “fishing” to viruses to an online love that essentially stood him up.
In talking to Khalid for a few hours, a lot of things came out pretty quickly and to be honest it became somewhat apparent that, as nice of a guy as Khalid is, he may be struggling with depression in the truest sense of the word. As a school teacher for UNRWA he makes a decent salary, particularly for his age, but he’s disheartened because as soon as he became employed he started footing the bill for his younger brother to study. Once his younger brother graduated (he’s now employed as a radiologist), Khalid picked up the bill for his younger sister to study nursing and the younger brother refuses to help support her because apparently she is not “good at studies.” So Khalid has literally spent every extra cent on his siblings’ educations; he admitted, somewhat sadly, that he feels trapped and like he’s working for nothing, especially now that his younger brother is using his extra money for fun and travel, while he, Khalid, is stuck on the refugee camp. Listening to that story, I could only hope that I would have the heart and generosity to help pay my little brother’s education, should he need it, and to maintain that strength of character despite the disheartening situation with his brother.
Khalid also asked me at one point to explain “The American Dream.” I was a little taken aback by the question at first, but decided to run with it. After explaining and then discussing it for a while, he nodded and said “Yes, I have this, the American Dream.” Unfortunately, I can’t honestly say that the American Dream is very welcome in many parts of the world, including Jordan. As a Palestinian, despite being born in Jordan, Khalid does not have all of the same rights as an East Bank Jordanian, particularly with regard to employment and professions. Just as an example, in an unrelated discussion Khalid admitted he had always wanted to serve in the Jordanian army because he liked the clean-cut look of the uniforms and the thought of training. He didn’t say it, though I knew it was in the back of his mind, but being of Palestinian origin, Khalid can’t serve in the army. And as odd as it might sound, Jordan is one of the best countries in the region for Palestinian rights, even offering the majority citizenship. So ultimately, Khalid can succeed if he works hard and has it in himself to do so, but I fear his birthplace (a refugee camp) and the Palestinian aspect of his identity may always be a limit to him here in Jordan.

I could definitely write more about my conversation with Khalid, but I’m my post might be running a little overlong. Tonight I will be going with Khalid to his home for dinner; his mother invited me in a brief phone conversation. So we’ll see how that goes and I’ll hopefully have more stories to tell next week.
I hope you enjoyed and as always, thank you for your interest!

Respectfully,

Brennan Roorda

*Note, Palestinian refugees are not considered the same as other international refugees and thus UNHCR, the primary organization for international refugees, does not deal with them.

2010-09-06T15:00:00.001-07:00

Week Five:

I realize I’m a little late with this post; since it was Labor Day weekend, I tried to make good use of the day off, so I hope I can be forgiven. I also already typed this post, but unfortunately forgot to send it to myself from the Embassy computer (oops); oh well, draft two, new and improved.
Last week was another experience with bureaucracy, this time within the University itself. Go figure that one of the most difficult things I’ve had to do so far was pay! After being formally enrolled as a student at the University, I then had to register with the International Studies department and with my specific classes. That in itself took a day of walking around and talking to different people, all of whom were very friendly and helpful. I tried to pay that day, as well; however, I guess that was a little ambitious because once I arrived at the Registration finance office, I was told that I had been misdirected and I had to pay at the bank. The bank, unfortunately, was not open until about 1pm, and I had to go to work. So the next day I returned and tried to pay, and the hurdle became the fact that I was trying to pay with a check. It didn’t seem to make much sense to me that one would pay cash for such a large payment, however apparently that’s how it’s often done. But once I’d started with the check, they would not let me stop and I ended being sent to the main University finance office to be told that it was no problem, I would simply have to pay a small international transfer fee. By the end of that process, due to the Ramadan work schedule, the Registration finance office had already closed its doors for the weekend, so I was unable to turn in my record of payment. On returning yesterday, Sunday, I was then told by the Registration office that they needed the original copy of the transfer statement from the bank (of which I only had a copy, stamped and signed). I returned to the bank, a little frustrated at this point, and was then sent again to the main finance office of the University, where they finally took pity on me and completed the process themselves. In the end, I handed that office my record of payment and they printed a copy of my class schedule: I was good to go, though I felt a little like a ping pong ball (I forgot to mention that each of these offices is a good half mile to a mile apart).

This weekend I decided to check out the Amman art scene. This city is often surprising in its profusion of cultural exhibitions and shows, in particular with the number of art galleries. The galleries are generally privately owned, but often enjoy the patronage of either the Royal family or other influential members of Jordanian society, such as the Honorable MRS. Mayor of the town of Jerash. One of the more famous of these galleries is called Darat Funun (House of Art) and is run by a private foundation called the Khalid Shoman Foundation. The gallery tends to house more modern art styles and the stated goal of the foundation is to promote the spread of Art, Architecture, and Archeology in pursuit of a future “Renaissance in the Arab World.” Another, smaller gallery, Jacaranda Images, also geared towards more modern arts, had a special exhibit of a local artist who overlays multiple photographs in order to “generate a complex range of emotions through contrast.” This particular exhibition was entitled “Memories of War and Love” and seemed to aim to demonstrate the human impact of violence and conflict.

For Sunday night I invited one of my former teachers out to iftar at a restaurant near downtown Amman, to catch up and in order to practice speaking good Arabic (because he is painstakingly particular about good grammar, pronunciation, and word usage!). The iftar was fun and it was good to catch up, but the real adventure came afterwards, when he took me along to his favorite hangout, at a café called “Maqhaa Sahafa” (Journalism Café, named for the multiple newspaper companies nearby). This experience was part of a bigger cultural activity known as sahar, which is essentially spending time with friends and family late into the night, talking, telling stories, and playing games. The café itself is essentially a hole in the wall, almost literally, but the clientele was obviously very consistent, as all of the patron’s knew all of the waiters by name (often nickname) and vice versa. Very few of the patrons I saw actually gave any of the waiters an order, rather they would simply say what amounted to “the usual” and within a few minutes they would often have a coffee or tea and be puffing on an arguilah (the large water pipe commonly and sadly known as a hookah in the U.S.). After about three hours of hanging out there, I now know how to play taawila (backgammon, which is originally a Turkish game) and shatha (a card game) and my understanding of dialect is hopefully just a little better.

That’s it for this week. I hope you enjoyed and thank you for your interest!

Respectfully,

Brennan Roorda

2010-08-29T14:33:00.001-07:00

Week Four

This past week was spent in numerous Jordanian government offices, getting blue stamps and blue signatures. I took a day to go to the University, a few weeks ago, and found that, while I was assured acceptance, in order to formally and fully register, I had to provide a number of certified documents. Foremost among those documents were my high school transcript, high school diploma, university transcript, and university diploma. In talking to another military student studying here in Jordan (an Olmstead scholar from the Air Force), he had run into the same issue, however it had taken him three months to complete the process. Needless to say, I did not have three months, and that was not good news.
The first stage was for all of those documents to be provided to a company called AMIDEAST which essentially contracts with the Jordanian government to verify the authenticity of documents brought by American students. The company has two addresses, one a regular mail, and the other a courier address. In order to avoid mail mix-ups and assure speedy delivery (which had been an issue for my aforementioned colleague) I frantically requested copies of all four documents be sent to both addresses. I have to mention on a side note here how incredible the Oak Ridge High School is, and in particular the registrar, Ms. Sandra Bentley, for dealing with my bizarre requests and for literally writing a letter substituting as a high school diploma. With the help of the Oak Ridge High School and my awesome mother who put the required documents in express mail, my high school documents were squared away and approved by AMIDEAST within about a week and a half.
The next step, I was told, was to get an equivalency for a Jordan-wide standardized test called “Tawjihi.” For this test, think SAT except that it literally defines the rest of your life in what jobs you are able to pursue, and you can only take it once. It tests solely based on memorization, mainly of Arabic grammar rules, some scientific formulas, some mathematical formulas, and the texts of a few major poets. On the other hand, it has no critical response mechanism and does not test critical thinking in any way shape or form: you will not see a graph on this test, nor will you see an excerpt from a story or article. When I arrived at the testing directorate to apply for an equivalency, I was informed that because I had not taken seven SAT II subject tests, I first had to receive an equivalency from the Ministry of Higher Education, proving that I had completed college level studies before they would qualify me for… college level studies.
About a week later, my transcript from West Point had arrived, but my diploma hadn’t and it looked like it might be a while. So I basically did the same as with the High School diploma: an official, signed letter stating that I did indeed graduate from West Point. That brought me up the Ministry of Higher Education, and I almost got through (so close) but then someone objected to the letter and wanted the actual diploma. Having anticipated some problems before coming to Jordan I had taken a picture of my diploma, hoping that I wouldn’t have to resort to using it, however at that juncture, it seemed like it might be worth a shot. So the next day, I returned, was taken to an assistant of the ministry’s general director, showed him my transcript and the picture, and he promptly asked his assistants where the problem was. So I spent the rest of that day wandering from office to office, receiving stamps and signatures, and was able to conclude the work day (which ends at 2:30 for the month of Ramadan) with bringing my Ministry signed and sealed recommendation to the University. At that point, all I had left to do was to return to be qualified as a high school graduate. In a similar process, I was able to receive a high school graduate and tawjihi test equivalency. Ultimate result: I am now officially a student of Jordan University.
Yesterday (Friday) I went and explored the cities of Salt and Fuheis. While there wasn’t way too much to do or see, there were some small, unique places to go. The pictures are from those cities respectively.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this week’s entry, and as always, thank you for your interest!

Respectfully,
Brennan Roorda

Week Three

2010-08-21T23:51:00.000-07:00

Week Three:

This week was kind of the grind week. The first few days were difficult due to a combination of Ramadan fasting and little sleep. In addition to the Jordanian friends I’ve been making, I also became close with a group of students studying under the State Department’s Critical Language Scholarship and living in the same research establishment in which I am currently living. They left on Tuesday, of course making the last three days extremely important for last minute Jordan experiences and late nights at coffee shops with friends. I was very sad to see them go, and the building is definitely much quieter without them, though I do have to admit I was relieved to get some sleep on Tuesday evening before iftar (the meal to break the daily Ramadan fast).

The big excitement of the week was yesterday actually. I rented a car and went south to explore the area around a small city called Madaba. Madaba is an old, predominantly Christian city, situated on the plains south of Amman. It has a long history experiencing an ebb and flow in importance, depending on regional political dynamics, until the reign of the Ottoman Turks, when Madaba and all of what is now Jordan saw a general decline in everything from economics and development to culture and learning. It was originally a Moabite city and is mentioned in the Old Testament, in Joshua and in Numbers. Under the Byzantines, Madaba was an important Bishopric and it remained so under the Umayyad Caliphate through the 7th and the 8th Centuries. The city is best known for its mosaics which go back to the Greek and Roman eras; the most famous of these Mosaics is in the Church of Saint George (also known as the Church of the Map), depicting the eastern Mediterranean world and in particular many of the sites holy to the three major monotheistic religions.

Before I went into the town itself, I decided to head even further south by about 30 kilometers and explore the old fortress of Mukawwir, which sits on top of a prominent hill near the Dead Sea. The fortress was also once a Moabite settlement and is also mentioned in the Old Testament as a site captured by the Israelites when the Moabite King refused them passage through his territory. The fortress is most known for being the site of John the Baptist’s beheading, for which there is a memorial (both Muslim and Christian because John, or Yahiya in Arabic, is a Muslim prophet as well). I was really the only person out and about because the temperature here has been hovering around 105 degrees Fahrenheit, making the trek up to the top of the fortress nice and refreshing. On top, the fortress was amazing. Being sort of wired for the military, I couldn’t help but try to imagine assaulting a place with such incredible natural defenses: it would be a logistical and tactical nightmare. After checking out the fortress, a small goat path down the opposite side seemed to be calling my name, so I decided to see what it wanted. About a mile later I ended up on top of another mountain overlooking the Dead Sea from which I could see a good portion of the Jordanian bank and even, despite the haze of millions of liters of evaporating water, could see the West Bank relatively clearly.

On returning to Madaba, I was able to meet up with an old friend from my semester abroad who lives not far from The Church of Saint George. She led me around Madaba a little and then we went to Mount Nebo, where Moses is said to have died after seeing the Promised Land. After returning from Mount Nebo, I met up with Dr. Nizar Qbilat, another friend and my teacher from semester abroad, who took me to meet his family (very extended family) and to hang out at one of the rivers. I was pretty surprised to find that the area was actually very green, with bright wildflowers, and a large group of people swimming.

After dropping off Dr. Nizar, it was time for iftar and for me to return to Amman. And that was my adventure for the week. I hope you enjoyed and thank you for your interest.

Respectfully,

Brennan Roorda

2010-08-14T02:39:00.000-07:00

Week Two:

It’s the end of my second full week here in Jordan and different experiences are all over the place, so much so that I’m not quite sure what to focus on. First I have to mention that I’ve made a few Rotary contacts; one is a scholar who will be studying here this year as well, two are club members, from two separate clubs here in Amman, and finally, the last is an outgoing teacher who was teaching a summer class and who also happens to be a professor and friend of mine from West Point. Running into her has been very helpful because she’s been here for a few months and has a few contacts in the other Rotary clubs here in Amman. The world just keeps getting smaller.

I also made it to a Rotary meeting at the beginning of the week, along with the other two Rotary Ambassadors. While we were unable to to speak, it was a fascinating experience to see and hear the speaker, who was a Doctor of Nuclear Health Physics as well as a businessman. His talk was about the impact of the world economy on the domestic economic situation in Jordan. I was surprised that I managed to pick up about half of what he was saying, despite the complexity of the topic and my lack of familiarity with economic terms in Arabic. His underlying argument was that Jordan was insulated from a lot of the real effects of the global recession but Jordan had still seen a slow-down of economic growth mainly due to perceptions and fears, both within and without the country.

The big thing here in Jordan now is Ramadan; the Muslim holy month of fasting and prayer during the day and family time during the night. The day starts very early, at around 3:30 a.m. or so, to take "suHoor," a pre-dawn meal that prepares the “faster” for the day both with food and with water. Then they call the dawn "adhan" at 4:30 a.m. signifying the start of the day. Some visitors to Jordan express frustration at this early morning adhan because it makes it difficult to sleep, but I think if you get past that aspect and actually listen, then it’s really peaceful and calming. Then for the rest of the day no food, water, or any of the little things like smoking or coffee (I guess the coffee would be obvious, but I felt it needed emphasis due to the special regard I give it). That lasts until around 7:30 p.m. when the "iftar" prayer is called, signifying that the day has ended and it’s time to break the fast.

So as you can probably imagine, this has a pretty big impact on all aspects of life. The experience is a little different for everyone, and everyone finds their own specific difficulty. For many it’s the cigarettes; before Ramadan they might be smoking one or two packs a day and then they suddenly go cold turkey. Those people say they’re usually sitting there before iftar with a glass of water in one hand and a cigarette in the other, just waiting for the athan. It also has a big impact on productivity at work; people are often tired, and sometimes even cranky (on a side note, dealing with bureaucracy during Ramadan is not fun for this reason, trust me). The duty day tends to end around 2:30 p.m. for people to go home and sleep and be with their family, so rush hour tends to pick up around 1:30 and lasts until 3:30. Luckily, I’m not leaving work until around 6 or 6:30 anyway, so by that time most people are home. Traffic picks up again around 8:30 p.m., once people having taken iftar, either to go to the local Masjid (mosque) if they’re a more devout family, or to go out and be with friends at a local coffee shop. Those spending time with friends will often stay out until 2 a.m. or even later, then waking up late and maybe taking a nap during the day. Sleep during the day definitely makes the time pass much much faster.

Non-Muslims are not expected to observe the fast, however they are socially expected to show respect for those who are fasting by refraining from eating, drinking, or smoking in public. I figured I’d try to go the whole way though, just for the experience: 30 days. I can definitely attest to the difficulty of not having water, especially when you’re trying to stay active. The other real difficulty for me was the coffee. My decision to do the fast kind of came at about 11:30 p.m. the night before Ramadan started, otherwise I might have slowed down the coffee consumption a few days prior. Unfortunately it didn’t work out like that, so I paid for it at work the next two days. And while I didn’t want to use sleep as a crutch, I have to admit that I’ve definitely slept in very late this weekend and felt a little guilty about it (I think staying out late both nights may have had an impact as well though).

The great thing about Ramadan, according to many of my friends, is the family aspect. Iftar is a family event and it’s time where no one is expected to do anything but be together, even if for just an hour.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this update. Thank you for your interest! شكرا جزيلا !

-Brennan

Week One

2010-08-08T00:57:00.000-07:00

(Picture from Jerash ruins; this aspiring tour guide's name was Ahmed)

Week One:

It’s the end of my first full week here in Jordan, and working in the US Embassy in Amman. I am already learning a lot about US military relations with the Jordanian government and how much support the US gives to the development of Jordanian forces. The Jordanian government, in turn, supports the US diplomatic efforts in the region and its military efforts in Afghanistan. People here at the Embassy often start their days late but then go late into the night because of the seven hour time difference between here and the US: they often tend to work with the Jordanians in the morning and then work with their US counterparts in the afternoon. It makes for an interesting day, but often rewarding because you can often see the fruits to your labor and the gradual development of a project as it heads toward completion.

On Wednesday evening I was able to tag along with a small group of students that are studying at ACOR, the research center in which I live. We went out to East Amman, where many Iraqi refugees have taken up residence since 2003, and held a class in a private residence on English for a group of young Iraqi men, ranging from age 8 to 18. I had the good fortune to work with one of the younger students who ended up being extremely bright, making my job easier, and giving me a chance to practice more complicated speech in Arabic alongside the complexity of the English (the topic was “Banks”). Everyone at the residence was incredibly welcoming and friendly, everyone rose up to great each of us and introduce himself, and none of the guests were left standing. That, as a side note, is arguably the greatest cultural value here in the Middle East: hospitality, particularly in Arab culture.

Over the weekend, I accompanied an Air Force Captain to Jerash, one of the best preserved Roman/ Hellenistic towns in the region. We had almost made it to the site when a young gentleman traveling with his family decided to make a left hand turn from the middle lane, right into our path of travel. Unfortunately, in stark contrast to the extensive hospitality in the Middle East, driving skill is not in much abundance, and while there are traffic rules, they are rarely followed and enforced even less. Luckily the accident had been off of a red light, so we didn’t yet have much speed and we only dented the rear side door. I immediately got out (being in the passenger seat), as did the gentleman, and I asked if everyone in his car was okay. I think taking a few seconds for courtesies did help prevent any possible tension that might have occurred. To make a long story short, the police were nearby and had seen the accident. They took us all to the police station, began filing the report (which, being in a very small town, meant that every officer in the station made it his business to help), and asked us questions ranging from insurance coverage to political views and our opinion of Jordan. After finishing the report, the police declared the other gentleman was at fault, making him a little angry, but after some argument he ultimately acceded. He went off to notify his insurance company, and the police took us to another little office to harass us with extremely sweet tea and imploring us to honor them by coming to their houses for dinner. I think we received three or four separate invitations, and even more phone numbers with orders to call if we are ever in the area. That was really the highlight of the day; having been to Jerash in the past, I was really there for the benefit of the Air Force Captain who had not yet had a chance to visit any of Jordan’s popular sites.

Today (Sunday, and the first day of the work week) I will attend my first Rotary meeting and hopefully get a chance to introduce myself and my home. I’m looking forward to sharing what I’ve brought here, just as I’m sharing what I’m learning here through this blog. As an added bonus, I’m interested in renting an apartment for the rest of the year, I met with the owner yesterday, and we discovered our mutual connection through Rotary… It just so happens that he is a Rotarian here in Amman. Small world.

Thank you for your interest and I hope you enjoyed the update.

Brennan

Arrival and first few days

2010-07-31T07:52:00.000-07:00

Hello,

This is the first post of the blog, so I'll kind of lay out the plan as it stands at the moment.
I am a Rotary Ambassadorial Scholar studying in Amman, Jordan. I will be studying at the University of Jordan for one year, aiming to attain a Masters in Diplomacy Studies. I graduated from the United States Military Academy about two months ago, receiving a Bachelors of Science with majors in Arabic Language and Middle East Foreign Area Studies. I also received a commission as a Second Lieutenant after graduation and am currently attached to the U.S. Army Student Detachment, which tracks Army students. My specific path is in existence essentially to allow graduates who owe service time to take advantage of graduate scholarships and then return to complete their training, bringing a unique skillset to enrich the Army’s arsenal. That’s the argument anyway, and I hope I can live up to that expectation.
My Rotary mission is an extension of Rotary International’s overall mission to promote peace, education, health, and goodwill around the world. My obligation is to make a number of presentations about my home district, 6870 in East Tennessee, to Rotary clubs and other groups here in Jordan. I hope to do a lot more than that though by serving my host community in more direct ways, most likely by supporting the local Rotary club’s endeavors. The second, but no less important, aspect of my mission is to return to East Tennessee and share my experiences at home. I look at both sides of that mission as one of the best things any individual traveler can do: demonstrate and express the good things that both societies share, knowing that the things that make us different are not necessarily bad, and in the end we’re all human.

So for my first few days here I explored some. I visited the American Embassy, where I will be working until classes start in September, and began to in-process there. My job will be to work in an office that directs military cooperation and training between the United States and Jordanian Armies. The U.S. has a strong relationship with the Jordanian government and a strong relationship with its military, thus we conduct a lot of cooperative exercises and I will be serving to support those exercises.
The Jordanian weekend is Friday and Saturday, so for Friday, I decided to wander around town and visit some of the cultural events that were going on. I was able to visit a weekly “souq” or market in an older part of the city after which I made my way down to the old Roman Amphitheatre in downtown Amman (wasat al-balad) to watch a United Nations sponsored celebration of Jordan’s cultural diversity, which is formidable even to U.S. standards. I took some pictures and videos of the event, so I will try to post those soon. I will continue and elaborate on many of the things I have mentioned thus far in later posts. As for now, I hope you have enjoyed reading and I thank you for your interest.

Respectfully,

Brennan Roorda