Life is Beautiful

I don't often post about my experiences of my life here in Jordan, as I only want to share when I have something worth saying.  As always I write here in the hopes of sharing things that have inspired me or enriched my life rather than just to draw attention from others.

I sent this experience I had a few days ago to a few of my friends and family via email, and they urged me to post it on my blog here.  I hope those of you who haven't read it will enjoy...

The last thing I wanted to do was get out of bed and face life this morning.  I was up far too late last night putting out various fires for work and then working feverishly to meet deadlines.  Too many nights of burning the candle at both ends, combined with the stress of too many projects, too many problems, and too many things to juggle, with far too few hands to juggle them had taken their toll and I was exhausted.  I'm just getting over being a bit sick so looking out the window at a cold and dreary day made me want to just roll over and go back to sleep.  As I was getting ready to head to the office it started to rain (a rarity here in Jordan) which just seemed to set the tone for what would be a disaster of a day.  

Once I was at work things didn't improve much as everything seemed to be falling apart.  Meetings all morning about different projects ended up uncovering more problems than they solved.  I put those issues aside for a moment as I had to finish a paper I had been working on to submit to an important conference and I only had a few more days before the submission deadline.  Things started looking up, I had refined most of the paper, and I was finally getting the statistical models to run effectively when suddenly my laptop made the most horrible sound and crashed.  I had lost every bit of work I had done on this paper, and countless other projects I had been working on over the last two months.  I was devastated.

The day could not have gotten any worse

I couldn't begin to process what had just happened so I packed my things and walked out of the office.  I made my way down the street through the traffic jam created by the rainstorm making hailing a cab impossible.  I put my hood up and started sloshing my way through the streets to make my way home.  I was wet cold and miserable and wanted nothing more than to lock myself in my room to disappear for a while.  The last thing I wanted to do was see or talk to anyone as I was in no mood to deal with anything or anyone else.

I rounded the corner and saw the familiar face of a Syrian man who was staying with the friends who I had been living with.  The man was aimlessly walking up the street in the rain getting splashed by the cars driving by him and for a moment I hoped that he wouldn't see me as I just wanted to be alone.  Of course he spotted me and smiling ear to ear called out my name repeatedly so I had to cross the street and say hello.  He asked me why I looked so upset and I just said it had been a tough day.  The man instantly took me by the hand and said he was taking me out to lunch to cheer me up.  I tried to insist that it was fine or that I wasn't hungry but he of course wasn't interested in anything I had to say at that point as he insisted I join him to eat.  I hate to admit now that I felt more inconvenienced than grateful for his gesture of kindness but I did appreciate it all the same.  

We made our way to a small shwarma place and sat down while he ordered food.  I was tired and wet and freezing and just wanted to be home but eventually my friend's smile and happy demeanor was too much to shut out and I did start to feel a little better (the really good shwarma didn't hurt either).  So in the moment I was grateful to have someone so loving and willing to cheer me up. We chatted casually and finished up and then went back out into the rain to head home.  He stopped for a moment and smiled at me again and told me in Arabic that "life is beautiful" and I agreed that yes it was,  He smiled and said again that "life is beautiful" and I needed to remember that as too often others forget it.  He got a faraway look for a moment and smiled again before lighting a cigarette and repeating "life is beautiful".

I thought about his words as I was walking with him back to the apartment in the rain.  As walked I had to hide the tears in my eyes... 

I suppose I should explain a little bit more about this seemingly normal kind and friendly man with an unusually positive outlook on life.

See this particular Syrian man was from Dara'a, and had watched as most of his friends and family were brutally murdered in front of him.  He had fought for the last two years as a member of the Syrian Free Army against the regime of Basher Assad.  His village has been leveled and everything he knows destroyed.  He would still be in Syria fighting, but he is temporarily in Jordan to undergo chemotherapy and other treatment for the stage 4 liver cancer he's been fighting.  Here is a dying man with no family, home, money, or future, but I have never once seen him without a smile on his face... and he insists that life is beautiful.

I thought of my own "problems" and realized none of them mattered at all.  All the things that had made me want to run and hide and avoid life were inconsequential and tiny by comparison to the things this man was struggling with.  I was in awe that in the face of all these troubles this man was more concerned with what was troubling me.  This man saw that I was having a rough day and rather than think of his own circumstances wanted nothing more than to cheer me up.  At no point did he insinuate that things could be worse (as he of all people could) but simply wanted me to remember that life was beautiful.  I am grateful for the perspective and the reminder... they haven't miraculously restored any of my lost work or solved my other problems, but yet all these problems don't trouble me now.  It makes all the difference in the world to remember just how beautiful this life really is.

My friends I've learned today that this life is beautiful... that my life is beautiful.  I hope you all can take a moment and see the beauty in your own lives too.

Haunted by change... or a lack thereof?

I find myself back in Jordan...

I'm here now for the third time and I am simultaneously haunted by the twin ghosts of past and future.  I hope you will forgive the ominous metaphor but there seems to be no other way to describe the context and feel of what is happening (or not happening) around me here.

The first haunting is the ghost of years past as it is overwhelming how little has changed here...

My first night in country I go to the Farah hotel as I have every year, I am given the same room by the same man working the front desk.  I go across the street Hashem’s (a cheap place for great authentic Jordanian street fare) where the same Egyptian man takes my order and brings me my food.  I go and get knaffeh from the same little shop there downtown where the same workers are doing the same things as they always are. 

My same friends find out I’m in Jordan and insist I come live with them in the same apartment as every year (they won’t allow me to endure such an atrocity as living in a hotel alone!).  Living with these friends we watch the news of conflicts in Syria with horrible images being shown of the bloodshed during an attempt to overthrow Basher Assad.  Despite this difference, Syria seems eerily reminiscent of the reporting we watched last year on Libya during the conflict to overthrow Qadaffi.  Another coup to overthrow another dictator so despite the fact that Libya and Syria are of course different it is difficult to miss the similarities.

I go to meetings in the same offices with the many of the same people and do my shopping in the same small mini-marts and am helped by the same people.  I even had one of the same drivers in one of the taxi cabs I hailed on the street.  It is just amazing how little changes in Amman sometimes and how despite all the changes in my own life there is so much external consistency here. 

In some ways the only real changes I see are the changes I bring with me...


Sometimes the only difference that I notice is the fact that I am not joined by the same great friends and interns that I was last year.  I have been fortunate to work with some incredible people out here so far who have been integral in making Zaytoon a success so I will miss their presence here.  Most noteworthy for me this year is the absence of my brother Brenden who reported to the Missionary Training Center recently to serve a full-time mission for our church.  He was a dear friend and a great companion to have out here and his absence is compounded by the lack of other changes evident around me.  Such similarity has an almost surreal haunting effect as I turn to talk to Brenden but he is not there as I forget that it has been a year not a week since I have walked these same streets.  I am haunted by the lack of change… or at least so it would seem.

I'm haunted a second time, by the ghost of years to come...

Unlike the ghost of years past, the ghost of years to come does not strike at the heartstrings of nostalgia but instead at the pangs of uncertainty.  The ghost of years to come is much less apparent and evident in day to day interaction as he stays well beneath the surface and though he is always felt in one way or another, he is not easily seen.  Usually the only way one can see direct aspects of this haunting uncertainty is through sensational events and watershed moments as happened recently when the Prime Minster resigned.  I will spare the otherwise compelling and interesting circumstances and implications of this event, but suffice to say this was nothing short of historic in showing the underlying changes that are happening here.  There are protests demanding new elections and an open willingness to criticize an existing regime that was above reproach and would have never been questioned a mere two years ago.  The future is hopefully bright for Jordan, but this ghost of uncertainty remains.  We have seen in Egypt, it will take a long period of this uncertainty to reach stability again so the road ahead is long and the destination or distance is anything but certain.


The smallest differences then are best seen in the sea of similarity...

These seemingly conflicting forces of stable similarity and unstable change are indicative of a much more complicated circumstance than most western political or journalistic forces are willing to comprehend.  Change is happening here but it will not appear in a familiar manner.  To understand the change that is really going on (and this change is happening all around me here) it is necessary to understand nuance of a circumstance, the tone of a conversation, and at times even the lack of a response.  The impact of the Arab Spring as it is felt in Jordan is often masked by the unchanging ghosts of years past, but if you listen closely and watch intently the emergence of an ever more visible ghost of years to come is evident.  I suppose to take the metaphor one painful step further (forgive me please) I just have to wonder what form this ghost will take… will it haunt this region for years to come with instability and uncertainty?  Could it be that this ghost simply the spirit of Jordan rising to meet the challenge of embracing her potential?  I suppose only time will tell.

Don't forget your Kevlar Underwear...

The piece of humorous advice given to me before coming out my first time has haunted me over the last year and a half as I have dealt with the many layers of society here in Jordan. This little taunt has represented for me the many humorous and/or serious expressions of concern for my safety and security here living in the Arab World. I can’t help but wince when I think of this sentiment as it represents such a distorted view of life as it really is.

Having lived both in the rural badia outside of Mafraq, and the urban boroughs within Amman, I have seen a broad spectrum of Jordan. I have broken bread with the poorest of the poor in Zarqa and Safawi where I knew there was not enough food to share with me but I would never dare insult my host by refusing to eat. I have been hosted by royalty in palatial estates in Ajloun and Jordan Valley where I saw a luxurious standard of living few westerners will ever dream of. I have been readily invited into homes to eat and drink with people of all political views and affiliations including those that have been painted as my enemy.

Through all of these experiences I was never wearing my Kevlar underwear, though somehow I made it out ok.

I know I have only had a small sampling of the many rich treasures to be found amongst the people and cultures in this part of the world but it has been enough to gain a true knowledge and appreciation for life here. Through all my experiences there is one overwhelming theme that runs strong and deep in this culture… love. I hope you will excuse the seemingly trite and smarmy sentiment, but I can’t put it any more accurately and simply than to say that there is a love here that is almost palpable. There is a love of God, of family, and a love of others that transcends anything I have seen anywhere else in the world thus far.

I brought my brother Brenden out to the Badia this weekend and I stopped keeping track of how many times we were invited in for lunch or dinner after the first day as the invitations were endless. Despite the fact that we are foreigners and come from a country that paints people here as extremist and dangerous we have been accepted with open arms. We have been well fed and taken care of by such humble and earnest people here. We have been incredibly busy with our work so we have had to turn down dozens of invitations to eat and drink with complete strangers who were incredibly insistent on showing their hospitality.

I suppose it is all for the better as I was not wearing my Kevlar underwear so I wouldn’t want to do anything that was unsafe.

Brenden and I were two blonde haired blue eyed Americans walking around a small village on the Syrian border but instead of fear and hostility all we felt was love and hospitality. Small children ran up to us and practiced the few English phrases they knew “Hello, How are you, I am fine” before running back to their smiling parents who then beckoned us to join them for tea. When trying to buy some assorted items at local shops it was quite a task to get the shopkeepers to let us pay for the goods we needed as they all felt it an honor to provide them to us no charge as we were their guests. I couldn’t help but wonder about the inverse. What if two young men in Arab attire walked through a small town in the States? What would be the reaction? Would they be readily embraced, merely accepted, or disdainfully rejected? I would hope that my own culture would do as good a job at “loving one another” as the people here have done. It is amazing to see the contrast to what I am used to in day to day interactions here as expressions of love and respect abound.

I’m a bit concerned though as with all of these expressions of love surrounding me I need to remember to wear my Kevlar underwear to stay safe.

It is hard to put into words the hundreds of experiences I have had her and harder yet to fight such a broad and misinformed stereotype perpetuated in the States. I can simply urge you all to take a moment to drop your preconceptions. Take off your Kevlar underwear for just a moment and look at things here as they really are rather than how the media spins it to you.

I can promise you that the danger of ditching the Kevlar underwear is well worth the amazing love that you will find here.

The price of lunch and a haircut...

I had a little bit of extra time this afternoon amidst my many meetings here so I figured I’d take a minute and enjoy some of the local fare and get a much needed haircut. The food here is always absolutely amazing but as I’m so often invited to eat with people in their homes I don’t frequent the eateries around town very often. I stopped in at one of my favorite places to go get some shwarma which as always didn’t disappoint. I had a fantastic lunch and even though it was a bit pricier than I expected, was well worth it. I spent about 7JD which equates to about $10 which I don’t make a habit of spending but on rare occasion I figure it’s not bad to treat myself. Getting the same kind of meal in the states would cost me about the same price so it was great. When it comes to food here restaurants are not terribly expensive when compared to cooking for yourself but eating isn’t cheap in Jordan. The price of eating out reflects the price of food in general which is significantly higher than in the States. I had a great lunch though so I walked up the street looking for a place I knew of where I could get a decent haircut. I walked in and was greeted by the same barber who had cut my hair a few times last year and was surprised to have him remember me (though I don’t think he has many blond Americans come sit in his chair so perhaps I shouldn’t be as surprised). I sat back and enjoyed a full service haircut and shave which rivaled if not surpassed some of the posh high end salons I had been to in the States. As he finished up I started thinking how much cash I had with me to make sure I could pay for the service but was surprised when he told me how much I owed him. I ended up paying 3JD (about $4.20) for one of the better haircuts I have ever had. I thought about things as I was walking away and started to do some quick mental math. If any of you have gotten a decent haircut in the States you’ll know that it’ll cost you at least $10-$15 and I honestly doubt you’d get near the quality of service that I had received. I would say this is normal when travelling internationally as cost of services reflect the lower cost of living in the area but then I thought about my lunch tab. The cost of food, rent, clothes, or any commodity is incredibly expensive in comparison to prices back home, but the cost of services is nowhere close! I was curious if this disparity was consistent when considering more professional types of services so I asked my friend who is an attorney here in Jordan. This friend studied law in France at a very reputable law school and has been practicing for over seven years but is still making what is considered a below average income in relation to average reported income in Jordan. I suppose it makes sense that a nation that imports 90% of its consumer goods will have very limited purchasing power but this is quite a problem. Add to this the fact that the currency is pegged to the US dollar and it further complicates the issue. A weak dollar doesn’t impact purchasing power to the average American as significantly as consumables (especially food) are produced there in country so though there is some impact it is not felt as readily. Jordanians face much more dire conditions as they rely on the strength of their currency to dictate purchasing power for consumer goods. I’m sure I will get into a more in depth discussion of this situation and possible solutions in a future blog. This is by no means an in depth economic analysis of the situation but it’s interesting to note the real-world experience that points toward an important economic situation. In the states my barber can take the wage he earned to go buy lunch and have a little left over, but here my barber has to work three times as hard to eat.

A Dissonant Harmony

In this culture you have very few moments alone as people are so interconnected and don’t understand why someone would not want to be part of the group. It makes sense traditionally as living in such an arid climate, isolation meant death. Interestingly enough the Arabic word for lonely (وحيدا) is almost the same as the word for private (وحيد) so the guys I have been living with from AdDafyanna have demanded that I continue to live with them in their crowded crash pad rather than making me endure the awful fate of living alone in my own more spacious apartment in Arjan. Living with them at times is almost like summer camp as it is a lot of eating, talking, joking and laughing late into each evening. It has been wonderful to spend time with each of them as they all have such great hearts and have made such an effort to make me feel at home here in Amman. Abu Omar teaching me how to cook and insisting to go with me to get all my visa paperwork taken care of. Thamer, always making sure I have something to snack on and drink when I'm hard at work. Ahmed Naif helping me with my Arabic and cultural understanding. Ahmed always being so upbeat and happy about everything (though I think it is because he is getting married soon). And last but not least Ghalib, giving me a place to stay, spending time talking politics and life and making sure I have everything and anything I could possibly need. Getting to know these men has been a true pleasure and reaffirms what I expressed last year about the overwhelming sense of hospitality I have felt here in Jordan.

Despite this great camaraderie I was relieved to have a little time to myself to sit and think this morning as I had trouble sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb anyone so I went up to the roof where I had a beautiful view of the city below me just starting to wake up. If you wake up early enough here in Jordan you can hear the first idthan or call to prayer of the day, each from a different minaret, starting one after another with the personal touches and distinct tone and style of the mu’athim leading the idthan. It is amazing to hear each idthan begin and although they are all saying the same words, each is so distinctly different. They are not coordinated as each mu’athim is proclaiming his faith and inviting others to join in prayer independently but at the same time they all begin to join together and shift from patterns of slight dissonance to perfect harmony then back. At first it is an almost eerie sound until you let your mind go and stop forcing the harmonies and letting each idthan stand individually but also contribute to this great swelling of beauty. Each is different and does not fit perfectly one with another, but that is part of what makes the experience so beautiful. The message is all the same of proclaiming a faith and devotion in God. As the various idthan slowly faded away after echoing off of the steep hills of Amman into the still dark sky I sat there in silence for a while. My mind couldn’t help but draw the parallel to how we are each individually proclaiming our faith in life. We all are independently proclaiming what is important and what we believe in. We all shift between dissonant and harmonious expressions of our faith even with those we have much in common with (let alone those who may believe very differently than we do). We spend so much time focusing on the dissonance created by our differences that it causes us to ignore what harmonies may exist and we miss the beauty of the experience. Rather than being so consumed with bringing others into harmony with our declarations of faith perhaps there are times where it is better to just sit back and listen?

My Contextual Address

When I went to the police station to register and extend my visa I gave them my address. “One block east from the large supermarket in Arjan in the third building on the right on the fourth floor on the right side”. That is my official address… a description of how to get to my apartment from a well known landmark. This is quite different from a typical Utah address which denotes a point in space with two numbers representing a location on a city grid. The idea then is that a point exists regardless of the context and surroundings. Given the address here I can’t find my way without first knowing enough about the area to know where to start from and then I can very easily find my way. This is one of the best examples of a mindset here in Jordan (and I would say the Arab world in general) that you need a contextual understanding of things and can’t easily simplify things to generally applicable concepts. I am constantly asked by people back home about the political environment here, most of them looking for simple yes or no answers to their questions. They are looking for the simple state or "location" of things, but fail to really understand the context and as such don’t understand that a simple answer is impossible in this culture. It’s like someone asking for my address and I give them my “official address” which of course means nothing to them as they have no idea where the large supermarket in Arjan is located. Just as knowing the location of the supermarket is essential to understanding the location of my apartment, knowing the context of the history, culture, and mindset of the various groups here is essential to understanding the political situation. Things here can’t be taken out of context or relegated to simple yes and no answers so I would encourage all of you who want to know what is going on here to take some time to understand the history and culture of the region as without that understanding you’re sure to get lost.

The Return of Loren of Arabia

I am back in Jordan and life is good!

It is all so familiar but at the same time everything here is completely different... including me.

I hope all of you will forgive the lack of posting but I needed some time to reflect before posting. I felt that it was important to understand the experiences I was having before providing commentary about those experiences here for you all to read.

Last year when I left Jordan I was unclear about how things would turn out in my future. I did not have a set plan of action other than to go back to BYU to help out with some research in the Sociology department with Dr. Ralph Brown. Through various fortuitous events and some divine intervention I was able to put together an amazing team of graduate and undergraduate students to join me out here this summer and do some great things. We have created the organization Zaytoon International and you can check it out at www.zaytooninternational.org and learn more about our goals and progress there. In this blog I will focus more on personal insights and observations.

Being back here in Jordan I have had the chance to talk to many of my friends from last year and it has been absolutely wonderful catching up. The culture here is almost entirely based on face to face interaction and as such trying to stay in touch via email or phone is less than effective. I have been looking forward to talking with people here given the recent upheavals in the Arab world and I have not been disappointed. Politics are everywhere and it comes up in just about every conversation. There is an energy in the air that is almost palpable and it is a night and day difference from what I felt last year. This blog isn't here to promote any political or ideological agenda so hopefully you will all understand that I am simply trying to relay my experiences and observations. I'm sure some of my own opinions will come out in relation to those observations but I am not here to encourage a specific change or provide direction but rather promote general understanding.

I have so many things to write about, things that I have seen, conversations that I have had, ideas that have been shared with me, and I have only been here a week. This last weekend I was out in the eastern badia (rural Jordan) in the villages I lived in last year and I was amazed at the changes I saw. I am very fortunate to have lived in these areas last year to give me a point of reference as to how different things are now as otherwise I would not have believed it. Last year a friend of mine here who had lived in the states told me a key difference between Americans and Arabs. He told me that when he was in America (and in other places in Europe and the West) everyone was reading, newspapers, magazines, books, blogs, articles, everyone was not just literate and educated but they were aware. He told me that Arabs were literate and educated here but you would rarely see anyone pick up a newspaper or read a book. There were computers and available resources to connect to the outside world but little motivation to do so. This year everything is completely different! The friends I had who last year had little desire or need for an internet connection all have wireless internet and smartphones. People are constantly reading up and learning what is going on around them. People who had little interest in politics or global awareness are now consuming information at every opportunity. Instead of vague and generic opinions people have well established and diverse points of view. Where there used to be a sense of quiet desperation and acceptance there is now active discussion. There are new ideas being shared and considered, and everyone is taking part in the conversation. It has been said that the Arab world has found its voice and this is definitely the case in Jordan. So now Jordan you have your voice, the world is listening... what will you say?