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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
love it!
ReplyDeleteThanks Loren Rich. My morning here in Indonesia is richer. I leave the cosmopolitan rich kids in the office every evening stoked on their visions for the future and head into the hood to pick up my wife and fine the dreams there even more real and exciting. And what if random 'Rabs did walk into the public library back in Idaho. Wonder what.
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