Running in Irbid

Day 9
Back to the daily grind. Finally some regular running. I guess I ran the three days the first week I was here but finally I'm getting into enough of a scheduling group to stretch it to 6-7 times / week. At first I was running laps ad infinitum on Yarmouk University's poor excuse for a track, where at least I could get away with wearing running shorts. But that got old after about 25 laps. Probably had something to do with covering more than 10k in a circle. Everybody has limits.

When I ventured off campus, I donned trackster pants and a t-shirt. That was fine during the unseasonably cool first 5 days or so, when I would run in early morning or late evening, but it had seemed implausible lately as the weather took a turn for the normal. So...

Today I got the green light from our Director-in-Residence Khaled and our Jordanian liason Ayham to bust out the short shorts off campus.
I know what you're thinking. And you're right, I do have nice legs. But aside from the attention that my exceptional pair would draw (anywhere), things have changed a lot even in sleepy Irbid in the last ten years and shorts are very common for athletic activities, and among the shabab even for walking around in on hotter days. Don't get me wrong I'm not planning on slipping on the nike racing shorts for a trip to the grocer, but it was pretty amazing to get back to natural running again.

Around 730, the sun is setting so long shadows and constant slight breezes keep my shorts/dry-fit t-shirt combo very comfortable. Today I christened a 10-miler 'heartbreak hills.' It starts with a 4 mile flat stretch on a wide gravel road (a perennially-unfinished highway leading into the countryside), along which several pick-up games of kids soccer and the odd over-aggressive dog keep me engaged. Then it breaks through some empty fields behind houses before climbing a pair of 3/4 mile hill at a very honest grade--with equally rewarding downhills. Then it splits groves of olive trees and farm-fields on a dirt road that spills back out into the city, where I have to navigate pedestrian and the ever-shifting lanes of cars for a couple miles back to the University gates.

The kids are usually curiously-friendly and the adults dispassionately-respectful so their is no problem interacting with the Irbidians. In fact, I get far fewer car horns and lame insults here than back in the states. Probably because no one expects to see a runner where the national obsession is soccer and handball and so my very individual pursuit must seem masochistic. What's the hurry? or Take a rest! they could be thinking.

There is, however, the occasional young boy that decides to sprint up to catch up with me and accompanies me for 100-200 meters. Which is nice, because I have only the occasional jaunt with my roommate as far as running partners go. I tell the kid he is winning and to hurry up...but I can't squeeze another 10,000 meters out of any of these 8-year olds. Not sure what's wrong--cultural barrier?


Anyway, now armed with my choice pairs of running shorts I can start properly decompressing after long days of class, al hamdu allah.

A Day of Ruin

Day 8

Don't be alarmed by my title here. Today was our first program-sponsored trip, a day outing via bus to Roman ruin cities of Umm Qais and Jerash plus a crumbling crusader-era castle at Ajloun. Not a one of the sites was more than an hour from Irbid or each other so the going was pleasant (if slightly bumpy) in a rare air-conditioned Yarmouk University bus.



Umm Qais
Umm Qais is 30 km NW of Irbid, right in Jordan's NW corner where Syria, Jordan, and Israel join along the Golan Heights and the Sea of Galilee. It's famous in biblical terms for Jesus banishing some demons from human-form into a nearby herd of swine or something. I dunno, read you Bible if you are interested in the facts of the matter. The city is more notable for its role in Greek and Roman imperial history as a city of the Decapolis in Greater Syria. The ruins from this period that remain to tell Umm Qais' history were the subject of our visit. Today, the ruins, situated atop a hill over-looking part of the Jordan valley serve also as an amazing view of the lowlands of Israel adjacent to the Sea of Galilee and the Israeli-occupied Golan Heights, beyond which lies Syria. Interestingly, mixed in with the ruins of the amphitheater and colonnades is a pillbox bunker from the '67 war. The view it's gun box frames was an interesting take on Umm Qais' vantage point I thought.














Ajloun
Even higher up in the hills of North Jordan lies Ajloun Castle, built during the crusades and serving also as part of a link of forts that could transmit a message from Baghdad to Cairo in under 12 hours (or so we were told). The exterior of the castle was damaged not by battle but a series of powerful earthquakes and so the now crumbling walls and towers are a interesting host to a maze of dark interior chambers and archery slits. Like Umm Qais, the chief attraction is the view from atop the castle's highest points, which on a clear day, can take in a large sweep of the Jordan valley. Joining us amongst the castle's innards were an obviously awkward group of East Asian tourists. Today was the first day I felt like a tourist and not a student. But, if that's the cultural price of admission to these kind of sites around Jordan it is a small price to pay.










Jerash
Our last stop on the day trip was another Roman member of the ancient Decapolis. Jerash is a huge and well-preserved Roman city centre, complete with long colonnades, arched entry gates, oval plazas, and not one but two large amphitheaters, among the remains many temple and practial structures that characterize the Roman cityscape. At the end of our self-guided walking tour (I spent about 45 mins just by myself) we stopped to sit in the main amphitheater, where we ran into a group of Spanish, Italian, and Danish tourists--most of whom did not comply with the respectful dress code that governs our program and especially our women. Whatever, they're Europeans, and looked like they were dropping a lot of bank on their holiday in Jordan anyway. Not ten minutes into our rest stop, a contingent of bagpipe players and drummers in traditional Arab Bedouin dress livened the mood with renditions of British classics, and, to our delight ,Yankee Doodle Dandy. Then we prompted them to play some authentically-Jordanian music, whence some members of our group started a traditional Dabka dance (Andrew = passive observer as I don't know its steps quite yet). Also of note at Jerash is the annual Jerash festival--a culture and music extravaganza filling the last weeks in July. Traditionally a draw for musicians of every style from all over the Middle East, lately the festival and it's unique staging have drawn in acts from all over the world--including the British ballet. Hmm, is a return trip in order?...




Quite the good day. I'm exhausted.

Weather Reality Check

Day 7

Ok, I admit it--it's hot.

It took about a week for the weather to live up to my expectations of Jordan in the summer and memories of our first days of beautifully-pleasant evenings have evaporated amid high 90s / lower 100s temps at mid-day.

It still gets pleasant by the evening, but normal life during the day slows down a bit and any activity beween 9am and 7pm is pretty much oppressive outside. Also, most buildings lack A/C (including our classrooms). Closed blinds and a fan pretty much do the trick, but my 4th floor dorm room can get ugly sometimes. Hence the added appeal of haunts like our favorite cafe, as restaurants tend to have a slight trickle of A/C or at least a nice cross-breeze from arrays of fans.

This weather is a good (if imperfect) alarm clock as well. By the time 730 rolls around, it is noticeably hotter than the night and rolling over again is foiled by an uncomfortable bed and persistent sunshine (it won't rain here all summer).

Wedding Party

Day 6

Tonight was Mohammed's brother's wedding party. I should say, it was one party in a week of raucous gatherings that traditionally precedes the wedding day. Another student here Mark and I were invited to this gig on Sunday after striking up a conversation with a grocer/ice cream vendor in Irbid's suq.

We were a little unsure of the exact name of the building hosting the party so we enlisted the help of some Irbid youth [shabab] to hail a cab and make sure we got off in the right direction. The cabby actually walked us all the way up to the door and introduced us to the party's very informal version of a bouncer (no wedding crashing in Jordan apparently, they run a tight ship).

The room was a 2nd story banquet room in downtown Irbid, holding tables of about 100 or so men and boys related to or close friends of the groom. Mohammed greeted us at the door (a typical 3 cheek kiss exchange) and ushered us over to a table of 20-somethings, where, other than being the only obvious standouts in the party, we fit right in...

We were in suits and fears about being overdressed were allayed by Mohammed and some of the other men in Italian suits. After a whirlwind of introductions, we got down to the usually broken-Arabic conversations about our summer program, studying Arabic in general, traveling around Jordan, and life in the U.S. Between gulps of second-hand cigarette smoke, Mark and I joined the fellas in downing champagne glasses of soda (Seven Up or Pepsi) and plates of cake.

Eventually the groom came down from upstairs--where he had been greeting all the women that the bride had invited--and started making the rounds downstairs. Let me assure you this is no simple nor short process, as many in the room must be given the cheek-smooch greeting before lengthy exchanges of pleasantries are exchanged. Eventually he weaved his way to our table, where I found out first hand he spoke impeccable English (5 or 6 years of IT work in the U.S.) and had an incredibly smooth-shaven face ;-).

We talked our way into the night until things started breaking up around 1130. That leaves about 30 mins of reasonable time to spend on homework. Yalla...

Mmm Booza...

Day 4

Today was a good one.

Seeking some culture, I grabbed a taxi downtown to check out the weekend suq (open-air market) and just get off campus for a little while. Most Jordanians in Irbid speak a few words of English, but my cab driver almost none. It turned out pretty well though, as before the end of the fare I found out where he was from and who he knew in American (which, like most Jordanians will tell you, he loves); and he learned about all about the summer program.

The suq itself was crowded, with the kind of noisy vendors, fresh food, good smells, and trinkets that make up your average depiction of a bazaar.



Before long, I ran into a booza (ice cream) vendor who quickly struck up a conversation with me. The usual opening salvo asks if I'm German (family heritage spot on?), then English, and I usually have to throw out American--which contrary to popular belief in the U.S. is not a bad response here. Most people in Irbid know an expatriate friend or family member in America, or at the very least have been bombarded by its culture. We chatted, with some difficulty between my knowledge of 'ammiyyah (spoken) Arabic--which is getting better day by day actually--and his of English. By the end of our 30 min. coversation, covering topics from violence/crime in America, to business, to places to see in Jordan, he invited me to his brother's wedding on Tuesday.

Sweeeeet.

Nightswimming

Day 3

Still having a lot of trouble sleeping...

Dawn. View from my fourth floor window at other dormitories on the Yarmouk campus.

I'm adjusted to the time change I think, but maybe because I'm not running yet and my mind is racing ahead to think of classes that start on Monday and our first travel plans next weekend, I couldn't get to bed before 3:30 or so the past two nights.

Last night was especially bad, and I just couldn't sleep at all before 7am. I caught about three hours then before starting the day. It's not such a bad thing, its very peaceful in the middle of the night. And if you're awake for the adthan--the call to prayer--around 3:45 or so, it's beautiful. It seemed especially long two nights ago two before the Friday 'sabbath.'

I get a lot of reading done too and when my eyes hurt too much for that I flip on the news--because God bless 'em I think al-Jazeera invented the 24 hour news cycle and there's always something on. Plus, at night the competitor news station al-Arabiyyah intersperses history and documentary programming with their news updates. This is like my dream TV, the equivalent of merging the History Channel and BBC Worldnews.

Anyway, I think to solve the sleep thing (let's call a thing not necessarily a problem), I need to cut back on the coffe [qahwa]. I'm not having it late at night but it's either small cups of super-strong Turkish coffee at a cafe or home-brewed Nescafe (the quintessential Arab brew) in the evenings that must be carrying over somehow.

*The title of this post is also a pretty sweet REM song.

Cafe Rabiah

Day 4

Hmm, once again I find myself in our favorite internet cafe maqha al-rabiah. The coffee is good and the wireless is free, so it is a favorite haunt of students in the program. On the third floor of a building of shops along the Irbid version of "The Corner," its wicker deck furniture (indoors), huge fish tanks, and elevated veiw of the bustle of nearby streets makes it an eclectic but comfortable spot. The per capita presence of internet cafes in Irbid rivals that of restaurants in Charlottesville by the way.

The weather has been beautiful. For those that might have imagined me roasting in desert heat, I am sorry to dissapoint (although I will reserve judgment until the summer here peaks in July). Highs are in the 80s but it is a dry heat with less than 20% humidity all the time. In the evenings it is pleasant in the low 70s / high 60s, and blankets are needed at night when it dips into the low 50s, surprisingly.

As a result--hoping to get back to running soon, maybe tonight. Shorts are fine on the track, but I am afraid around town I will be stuck with a t-shirt and some tracksters. Ugh. Just give them a few months next year to get used to my upper-leg...

Among the tulab lots of reviewing is going on before a placement test tomorrow. For my part, I just prefer to read the paper everyday. It is a quick way to pick up vocab and improve reading skills, plus keep abreast of the ridiculousness of Middle Eastern news stories at the moment. My roomate--Harvard student who took a year off to study in Cairo last year--and I also enjoy our two satellite Arabic news channels--the only TV we get. A few students managed to unlock about 200 more though so anytime we want to watch some American cinema with Arabic subtitles, Monsters Ball, Unfaithful, and Hollywood et al are close by. But not too close by, which is probably for the best.

Anyway, although all this news gets repetitive after a while, and I know about 15 different words for bombings, shootings, and death. I guess I should get used to it, considering the recurrence of such macabre themes in the news here that I will be digesting as part of the research project starting in the fall.

The group here, about 33 students or so is pretty varied in age (with some grad students and a couple married students) and ability level. Outings to shops and to restaurants are still awkwardly and unnecessarily large, as people having quite split into clicks yet.

My 'ammiyyah (spoken dialect Arabic)--not taught at the university level--is improving day by day. Now I don't sound like as much of a formal newscaster when trying to order some falaafel at a restaurant.

Just really got the blog working today, so sorry about a backlog of posts. Also, I plan on adding some links and pics here soon...

(Dis)Orientation

Day 2

Ok, first off, there is no way I will be able to keep up daily posts for very long; which is probably better for both of us seeing as how they are not replete with awesome stories…yet.

Today was a whirlwind tour of downtown Irbid, Yarmouk’s campus, and our classroom facilities. Considering our circuitous bus route through narrow crowded streets, and equally nimble weave between hordes of graduating Yarmoukis, it is probably no surprise that I am less sure of my sense of direction than before. Oh well, I will kill part of tomorrow morning getting lost and getting my bearings.

More beneficial probably was the meet and greet with our faculty for the summer. Very nice, very professional, and quite approachable (they all speak a fair amount of English when they need to as they are AFL--Arabic as a Foreign Language teachers). It was a good first impression to have made on their part given I will be working very closely and very hard with them.

Small Victories

Day 2

Not quite completely adjusted to the time zone switch (7 hours ahead of EST), I found myself with about 2 hours to kill before the morning meeting. My addiction to coffee—habitual more than chemical (at least that’s what I tell myself)—lured me into hitting the streets around Yarmouk in search of a café [maqha] and a bit of food. I ran into another student on his way downstairs and we teamed up to explore the morning scene.

University Street [sha’ria jaam’ia] is very quiet compared to about 1 am when we were out for some sandweeshes last night, and it took us about 10 minutes just to find a coffee shop that was open. The owner kept responding to our Arabic with equally dubious English, but he at least he understood almost everything I was saying. Beyond ordering I tried to make some small talk, but let me assure you talking about the weather in Arabic is just as humorously awkward as in any other language.

The coffee is Turkish by tradition (in the cities at least), which is a stronger, at-least twice brewed variety flavored with cardomom, and can be bitter on your first go without sugar [saada]; but it's a taste by now I prefer. Just don't swallow the last bit or you will be chewing coffee grounds. It's a nice change from Starbuck's Breakfast Blend anyhow, so I am looking forward to a lot of cups before the summer is over.

So are the maqha owners.

The Longest Day

Day 1

Conclusion: 12 hour flights are a trip.

+ 2 square meals
- 1 screaming baby with an endurance you wouldn’t believe.
+ 4 music channels (2 English, 2 Arabic)
- only 1 movie choice: Music & Lyrics

But alas, at the end of the night, we're all set and I can look forward to seeing Irbid by light and when I'm not in such a travely-haze.

Sitting

Day 0

Sitting in the Washington Dulles Airport B Gate, awaiting my jump flight to JFK in NY. Then, sitting for several hours of orientation sessions, meet and greet with the fellow UVa-Yarmouk participants, and a group dinner. Rounding out the day is 12+ more hours of sitting aboard the Royal Jordanians Flight (direct) from NY to Amman, which, by the way, will be delayed by over an hour. My runner legs are having a hard time sitting still while my mind has no trouble wandering off to think of the summer to come.

Prologue

Hi there.

Welcome to the blog/journal/rant/picture post for my next fifteen months in Irbid, Jordan.

Thanks for reading.

I guess any good prologue does some setting of the scene, and even an informal blog deserves no less. Be forewarned it’s a touch boring and more than a touch long:

This whole trip has come together (or is most of the way together) in under a month’s time, but that’s life. I had applied for a Fulbright scholarship to study in Jordan way back in November of 2006, in the fall of my last year at the University of Virginia. I figured it was a reach but a risk-free application in any case.

The Fulbright program, funded in large part by the U.S. State Department, seeks to bridge cultural differences and foster long-term bi-national relationships by sending post-graduate Americans abroad to study and conduct original research projects in participating host countries. Or something like that. It also fully funds awardees in their travels, residence, and research overseas by the way.

So ok the appeal of a prestigious, unique, and free! experience abroad was sort of self-evident, but why Jordan?

Part of the answer to that question (which I get frequently) lies with my experience in the Arabic Program at UVa. Along with a foreign affairs major with a regional concentration in the Middle East, I minored—almost double majored—in MidEast Studies (Arabic). I have always been interested in the history and politics of the MidEast, and luckily I found a university where I could shape my degree around that interest, and add in the study of its (predominant) language.

Alongside that I also held down a part-time job helping to manage UVa’s study abroad program in Jordan, the UVa-Yarmouk Program. My mentor in both Arabic coursework and the UVa-Yarmouk Program, Mohammed Sawaie, is a native of Jordan and has always encouraged me to accompany the summer abroad program to the northern city of Irbid.

My commitment to Virginia Cross Country and Track & Field ruled out any study abroad experience while I was still competing, however. The close of my fourth year presented a real opportunity to pursue an expatriate experience before the reality of the workplace and or even graduate school tethered me stateside. So in debating my possible escape destinations in the Middle East, Jordan already had a leg up on the competition from my time at Virginia.

The other half of the answer to why Jordan? can be found in my research proposal, submitted in conjunction with the Fulbright application…

[Hopefully I can also do some post-facto justification for my choice of Jordan with stories and pictures I may eventually get around to uploading from this summer, insh’allah…]

Unfortunately, after being told I was a finalist for a Fulbright scholarship in February, by mid-March I had been waitlisted pending further program funding. At that point I pursued applications to grad schools and ended up accepting admission to the School of International Service at American University in Washington, DC. I went through the orientation process, signed up for courses, and prepped myself mentally (ugh) for another 2 years of academics.

I had also committed to finally accompanying the UVa-Yarmouk Program after 2+ years of support work for it. I figured a summer abroad—June through August—was still a unique opportunity to broaden my horizons before grad work and internships boxed me up in DC.

Thence the change of plans. On May 15 I got confirmation of the Fulbright award and proceeded to scramble around trying to finalize medical clearance, transcript, and orientation details. I also accepted a Critical Language Enhancement Award (CLEA), a three-month fully funded immersion program preceding the nine-month Fulbright research grant that is designed to increase fluency with critical ‘hard-target’ languages like Arabic.

After resolving some initial conflicts between the summer program and the Language Award and tentatively deferring AU, I am looking forward to about fifteen months abroad: two for UVa-Yarmouk + three for the CLEA + nine for the Fulbright, all of it based out of Yarmouk University in Iribd, Jordan.