Day 160
*note: this post is experiencing some formatting issues...
Well, it’s been just over a month since I returned to Jordan; a hectic month, but a good one. While I came back to the same country, I also moved cities—leaving behind dusty, conservative, at times boring Irbid for the (well, relative) bustle and culture of the capital Amman.
New Digs
Unfortunately I hadn’t really figured out my living situation before I left for the short holiday break, so I spent about 10 days crashing on very generous and welcoming friends’ couches. Like a lot of things in life, the best leads (and especially in the equivalent of the apartment hunting off-season here) came by word of mouth. Eventually I heard about an ex-pat flat with an extra BR. Of course, after over a week on couches—in sometimes drafty Jordanian buildings—I also had a pretty bad case of the flu to show for my efforts. Sickest I’ve ever been. Ever.
Worth it? Yep. I’ll play real estate agent for a second…The charming apartment is nestled in Jabal Al-Luweibdeh, a quiet residential neighborhood often tagged as the French and art quarter of Amman: French Cultural Center, Parisian café and bookshop, plus modern and fine arts galleries. The apartment shares half of an older building with an NGO, Handicap International. A 3 BR with high ceilings and two small balconies, it came furnished (and decorated) courtesy of the French NGO Acted, which uses the place as an ex-pat employee pad. Thus, not having to track down a bed or desk for my room was a big plus, and the price was right (less than half of what I would have to pay if I had settled for a single BR apt.).
I tried to dress up my bedroom but will admit to not being very creative or willing to spend money to do so. The essentials, the (queen) bed and desk, take up most of the floor space anyway.
The biggest draw, though, are the roommates. And we are a motley crew:
LynnA 20-something from the Czech Republic (don’t you dare call her Slovak), Lynn works for NCCI, an umbrella NGO coordinating international organizations’ operations in Iraq. She enjoys vodka and Red Bulls and cares little for the techno that has invaded most of the club/bar scene in central Europe. Her beau, a Frenchman named Bestien, is our apartment’s tenuous connection to Acted, and comes back every other weekend on breaks from his relief work in Irbil, Iraq. Fun fact: Lynn will out-skate and outscore you in ice hockey, and speaks about half a dozen languages.
Mozzy
Mozzy is our apartment IT guy, and works as a local web developer. He’s part German, part Palestinian, 100% good-natured. Never seen him not smiling. Mozzy and I usually enjoy a couple Amstel’s a night (did I mention the apartment is 20 ft. from a liquor shop?)—although he will never understand my habit of drinking them Mexican-style. Unfortunately for him, Mozzy’s girlfriend, the charming Italian Francesca, just wrapped up two years in Jordan working with Lynn at NCCI, and has moved back to Italy to pursue graduate studies--although Venezuela may in both of their near-futures. Mozzy is responsible for at least half of our group collection of around 300 DVDs, including some hilarious B horror movie classics.
Tiger, Mommon, Mommonette (clockwise from right) Lynn rescued a one-eyed street cat, Mommon, who gave birth to two cute terrors Tiger and Mommonette about 3 months ago. Mommon is a loving if exhausted mother, who, as you can see, provides a warm pillow for catnaps as often as she plays a disinterested spectator to frequent wrestling matches between her kittens. Tiger has a habit of attacking your food and Mommonette has a habit of attacking your feet. No one is safe.
Working Man
I officially started my research on Jordanian news media about 4 weeks ago. It's a comparative study of how traditional daily papers and emerging electronic news media (internet news sites and blogs) represent American Foreign Policy in the Levant region. Classes at Yarmouk U up in Irbid were a good prep and things are going well, but it wall progress a lot more smoothly when we figure out some regular internet service for the apartment. Oh, and look for the second installment of 'Weird News' next post...
Eventually the research will include some interviews with media professionals as well as a (very) rough gauge of how public opinion matches up with trends I identify during the research. To that end, I’ll probably saddle myself with 2-3 days a week of Arabic private tutoring to build up better speed and vocabulary in the dialect Arabic. I am also one week into an internship (3 days/wk.) with a Jordanian political think-tank, the Regional Human Security Council. Jointly funded by the Canadian and Jordanian governments, the Council conducts research and hosts forums and conferences on regional political issues with a humanitarian focus: reconstruction, refugee movements, conflict resolution, etc. I will be only loosely affiliated with their mission as a ‘visiting affiliate,’ but will pitch in however I can in from time to time in exchange for the office space and services they are offering towards my own research.
Runnin'
I was originally dreading the move to Amman from a runner's standpoint. Getting in the miles in Irbid was hard enough (aside from a total lack of quiet running space, I once had a carrot thrown at me), so I couldn't imagine having to trek outside city limits everyday to find some quiet dirt road for runs. Fortunately, I discovered the massive 'Sports City' complex in Amman--an assortment of stadiums, gym and sportsmed facilities, athletic fields and courts, as well as a 2K walking/running trail. The path is hard-packed dirt and snakes through a large swath of pine trees, making it ideal (if boring) for accumulating laps and miles. The asphalt access roads linking all these facilities also make for good loops and add-ons, so it's not too difficult to get in 10-15 miles between the two.
I have my sights set on a half marathon at the Dead Sea in mid-April, and am still in the base mileage phase of training for that. In my first week or so back, I had been frequenting Sports City in the a.m. where I would occasionally meet the guys from the Amman Police Department running/racing team for some miles or a workout. They are in decent enough shape and made for good company (and some good practice getting my Arabic running vocab. straight). Since having switched to afternoon runs, I have met several members of Jordan’s top running group, the pool from which the national team is selected and many of whom enjoy sponsorship from the MidEast Fed-Ex equivalent Aramex.
I wanted an indoor alternative for when the weather would turn ugly (and it did), so I joined a gym about a block from the apartment. It’s a small space with a clientele who all know each other, and who now all know me as the token foreigner. Gyms can be a status symbol for the upper crust and some ex-pats in Amman, but I shied away from more lavish locales and opted for something close and close-quarters. Aside from the weight equipment—which is the draw for everybody else—‘Paris Fitness Center’ (…French quarter…) also has two treadmills. I’m pretty much the only person ever on one. While I generally dislike the kind of manufactured feeling a run can take on when it’s indoors and on a machine, it does the trick when scheduling or the weather necessitates an alternative to Sports City. Still, I can’t take it after about 12 miles on the thing, so hopefully those days are few and far between.
Finally, I was also kind of talked into running a ultra-long distance team relay race called Dead to Red (Dead Sea to Red Sea, or just south of Amman to the port city of Aqaba). It’s a 150 mi. day and night adventure, during which you and 9 teammates can switch off at whatever distance intervals you like. The top teams in the past couple years have traded off every 500m to 1K, in which case the whole event takes about 16 hours. My team is mostly embassy staff and military personnel, with the odd ex-pat and University of Jordan track runner thrown in here and there. Our strategy involved two team chase cars of five runners each, switching off at Ks, and lots of high-sugar foods, fruits, and electrolyte-laced fluids. Actually, I should have run the race last weekend, but it was rescheduled for the 21st of February on account of…
Snow
Yes, it gets cold in Jordan in the winter. The previous few weeks had seen highs in the low to mid 40s with temps approaching the freezing mark at night. A week or so ago, however, it got markedly colder and wet, resulting in about 3-5 inches of, yes, snow. Things got a bit ugly when it switched over to a cold rain on the third day and then everything refroze overnight. Plus, the roads (and especially those drivers crazy enough to be out on them) during snows of any real accumulation here are pretty treacherous. And suffice it to say there is no snow removal equipment, of the vehicular or hand shovel variety. As such, pretty much everything shuts down. No school, no government workday, and, for most, no private sector jobs either. Made for some good house parties, though. The citywide snow days generally send many people (young and old) out into the streets and small city parks for massive snowball fights. I went trudging through the slush to buy a paper (unsuccessfully as apparently paperboys also take snow days), and got into no fewer than three snowball exchanges on the way back. Let the record show I was unscathed and took out a young gunslinger in the back of a roving snow-filled pickup truck.
Ok this post is getting long. Suffice it to say things have settled down and I am settled in. خلاص.
to 'Moots'
