Peace and Quiet During the Ramadan Heat Wave

There's a double whammy going in here in Jordan.  First, it's Ramadan so 95% of the restaurants and cafe's and bars/clubs are closed for the month.  Second, it's hooooot.  It's been 100 Farenheit or higher for the past week or so, and since people are fasting (not even drinking water!) that means not many people want to go outside.  Understandable.

The bummer is that there aren't many places to go during the day for people who aren't fasting.  Want to hang out at a cafe?  Good luck.  Want to have a nice lunch at your favorite restaurant?  ha ha ha ha. Now, there are some places open.  These are cafe's, restaurants, etc. that have a tourist license.  But there aren't too mnay.  After around 7:30, all the places are open (except bars) but if you want a place to have a cold drink during the day and get some air conditioning. good luck.  Living on the third floor of an apartment with no air conditioning and only a slight breeze, you can imagine how hot it gets.  My bedroom is like an oven so I opted to sleep on the floor in the living room.  Grab a yoga mat, a blanket and two pillows and hey, you've got a bed! 

The nice thing about the heat and Ramadan combination is that I can walk around my neighborhood and have the whole place to myself.  I could probably be singing and skipping down the street in a tank top and shorts and not be noticed.  Ok, well that's probably an exaggeration........but it is nice! 

Sneaking Food and Drink During Ramadan; 2 Years strong!

Drinking in Dressing Rooms

I would say for the most part that I'm pretty culturally sensitive.  I try to dress appropriately for my surroundings, try to understand others viewpoints and beliefs and so on.  And even though I don't fast during Ramadan, I try not to eat and drink in public before the fast breaks, which is around 7:30 these days. I've slipped up a couple times because I completely forgot, but for the most part, I'm pretty good. 

Did I mention how hot it has been lately?  In the US it wouldn't be that bad beause there is air conditioning almost everywhere.  Not in Jordan.  We are lucky to have 2 fans in the apartment.  My friends and I decided it would be a good idea to go to a mall for part of the day.  Why?  Simple.  There's air conditioning and cafe's where you can actually get a cold drink and enjoy it before 7:30.  Well, that's what we thought.  

The cafe's weren't serving drinks.  Bugger.  I bought a delicous cookie, that was just begging to be eaten right then and there but these hopes were quickly dashed when the man behind the counter said, "that's to go, right?"  In other words, yes, you can buy this cookie, but if you eat in front of me or anyone else, you will be sucker punched.  Dangit.  The mall, as we found out, is not a safe zone.  

We are some pretty savvy ladies so we quickly came up with a plan.  A) Find a clothing store with big dressing rooms.  B) Grab some clothes and pretend to try them on.  C)  Get out can of coffee and cookie in dressing room and quickly stuff our faces before anyone suspects us of rogue consumption before hours. 

As you can see in the above picture, our plan worked out fine.  We shared water, Getchen had her chocolate croissant, Lena and I had our coffee in a can (bought from a Whole Foods loke market) and I had my cookie.  In the end, everybody wins.  We were happy and nobody was offended.  No crumbs or spills were left behind.

Who says you can't find ways to enterain yourself during Ramadan? 

But they promised!!!!!!

2 days, 1 night:  Petra, Wadi Rum and Aqaba.  Hours of driving, lots of walking, intense heat and being around lots and lots of people causes crankiness.  And a need for comic relief. 
Normally, I wouldn't feel the need to fit in Petra, Wadi Rum and Aqaba in less than 48 hours but as my friend Kristin was leaving Jordan soon and hadn't seen any of the above, a weekend trip travelling at the speed of light was pretty much the only option. 
I'll fast forward to the last couple hours of our trip which was on a boat ride in Aqaba.  This was the very last thing on our agenda.  After walking around in the scorching heat all day, going to the public beach (where we got stared at all the time since we were the only ones within eyesight who weren't fully covered) and various other misadventures, we were looking forward to some rest and relaxation.  Specifically, a boat ride complete with a barbecue dinner, submarine view of the coral in the red sea and a half hour swim when the boat was anchored.  
After waiting for about a half hour for the late tour group to arrive we boarded the boat, only to realize that because the tour group was late, it would (supposedly) be too dark to see the fish and coral in the submarine like compartment on the boat.  Strike one.  This was a bit of a bummer but we knew we still had a nice swim and barbecue dinner to look forward to. 
This might come as a shock to some, but I opted to go swimming before eating.  Generally speaking, I have a high tolerance for heat but that day was particularly hot and humid.  As soon as the ship docked, Kristin, Gretchen and I got ready to go for a dip.  We figured we would probably be the only ones since everyone else on the boat was family and didn't exactly look prepared to go for a quick swim.
Yellla!  We walked around the boat, ready to get into the water, only to be met by a woman (who just happened to be blocking the stairs) saying, 'ma bsiir' (they shouldn't).  This lady had picked the wrong day to piss us off.
A) We were promised that we could swim for a half hour and it was scorching hot.
B) I could understand what she was saying.
C) It had been a long two days.
D) We were trying hard to be culturally appropriate (Jordan Style) It's not our fault most 95% of the people who were on the boat were from Saudi Arabia and therefore very conservative.
Long story short, we went swimming.  We climbed down the ladder, stripped down to our bathing suits and jumped in at the count of three. 
We swam to the side of the boat (the crew wanted in us in close distance to prevent a lawsuit presumably) and were met by......all the passengers of the boat. Yep, all the passengers of the boat had decided it was a good idea to crowd around the side of the boat and watch Kristin, Gretchen and I swim.  Usually being stared at in such a fashion perturbs me but this time I was slightly amused. 
Hey, we were promised. 

Ahmad to the third power

In the US, most people know at least one Jim, one Sarah, etc.  In Jordan, everyone probably knows at least ten Ahmads.  No joke.
The other day I was having a conversation with my friends and the name Ahmad came up.  Then came the confusion.  Which Ahmad?!  Your Ahmad?  My Ahmad?  Ahmad's Ahmad?  Which Ahmad?  I kid you not when I say it got quite confusing. 
A couple days before this, I was talking to the women who own a clothing shop next to my apartment...I decided to strike up conversation which started by common ground.  Oh, you know my friend Ahmad (he is Circassian and they are Circassian = common ground) This was met by......"oh.....Ahmad who?"  Oh, the Circassian Ahmad who works at the same language center I do.  Suddenly the lights went off...."oh, that Ahmad." 
My friends and I were wondering how many people would turn their heads if we yelled, 'Ahmad!' downtown.  My guess is about 50. 
Next time I mention any Ahmad, I'm going to have mention the last name, family origins and occupation.  Then, and only then, will people might pinpoint exactly which Ahmad is being talked about.  And now, I have to call back my friend Ahmad.

Some things are more exciting the older you get.......

Yumminess as far as the eyes can see......or almost

I love sweets.  Yes, I sure do.  So when Gretchen showed me this wonderful bag of candy that she bought in Jerusalem, I was envious.  Until she immediately shared the big stash with me, upon seeing the gleam of desire in my eyes.  The best part was when she told me that we could get one on the way back to the border.  I was disappointed to have to go back to Amman so soon, especially since getting to Ramallah took so freaking long.  (6 hours door to door)  However, this blight in my existence was vanished upon seeing this candy.  I merrily grabbed the silver tongs that were beckoning me and dove in to all the candy, stuffing every single kind into my huge plastic bag.  To brighten my day even more, the boy who weighed my candy threw in an extra two handfulls of candy.  Probably just to make it an even three pounds, but I was still happy.  Thirty shekels ($9, 6JD) was a small price to pay to pay for days and days of happiness.  Now where is the Pepto Bismol?!

The umbrella-car office complete with typewriter and copier

I had to go back to the Syrian Embassy today with Gretchen so I decided to take a picture of the 'office' where we had our documents typed up and copied.  As you can see, this guy is in high demand!

Trip to the Syrian Embassy

Today I went to the Syrian Embassy to start the month long process of getting a visa.  It doesn't seem to be so much of a process, as much as it is just waiting for a month after you fill out all of the paperwork.  In the past, Americans could go to the border and obtain a visa.  The catch is that you would most likely wait about 6 hours before getting it.  Word on the street is that the regulations recently changed and it's not possible to get a visa at the border anymore. That's fine with me, I didn't want to wait 6 hours at the border anyway.  Especially in August.

Everything was going smoothly until I was told that I needed to have a form typed.  This wouldn't be a problem if I could actually find the guy who could supposedly do this for me.  When I went back and asked, they told me to look for the guy next to the car with the umbrella.  Ohhhh.....why didn't I think of that before?!  I walked out of the embassy and sure enough, there was a car by the side of the road, with the door open and a huge beach umbrella wedged between the door and the car.  There was a little boy sitting next to the copier on the front passenger seat and the father had his typewriter set up on a table.  While the man was typing away (pecking at the keyboard, looking for each letter)  I tried in vain to strike up a conversation with another woman who was also waiting.  She said she spoke French, and I thought, "Great, I can speak French."  Well, great unless my mind freezes and goes into Arabic-only mode because it's been so long since I practiced my French.  I could understand her but found myself struggling to remember simple words in French and ended up replying in Arabic.  I'm 99% sure I sounded like an idiot.  Yeah, I know French.  Oops, just kidding!!  I blame this on the heat.

The best part was when I looked at the finished document and saw that instead of being born in 1982, I was supposedly born in 982.  My last name, Perne, was spelled correctly, alhamdulila, but the guy spelled my mothers last name Porne.  Yeah, so apparently I'm over 1,000 years ago and have a last name that is......undesirable.  Ah...Jordan!