“The other side of challenging is incredibly life-changing.”
This is what my stepmother told me when I was struggling at the beginning of the semester to adjust to the language barrier, the cultural differences, and being over 6000 miles away from home. And she was right. I’m not the type of person who thinks my entire life has been transformed by living in a developing country for only four months, but I feel that at the very least, I have learned more about the Arabic language and culture than I ever could have by taking classes at Georgetown, and I also feel that I have matured a lot as a person, now able to fully function in this increasingly globalized world. Because I still can’t quite process the fact that I spent four months in Jordan and therefore definitely cannot organize my thoughts in an eloquent manner. Thus, a list of random observations and things I am going to miss about Amman (and a few that I won’t):
1. I am going to miss the bursts of confidence I received from random Arabs any time I tried to speak their language. I could say something as simply as, “Hello. How are you today?” in a taxi, and the driver would assure me that I spoke Arabic very well. He would continue to praise me throughout the conversation, even though it was usually something had learned how to say in my first year of Arabic. (“Yes, the Arabic language is very difficult. The most difficult thing about it is the difference between fusha (MSA) and amiyya (colloquial)…”)
2. There were also extremely interesting conversations with taxi drivers. My favorites included the time that I was told that Arabic is the language of Heaven (I’m in!), and the time when I was asked approximately how many people in America were killed because of swine flu.
3. Because there are so many supermarkets and businesses that do the exact same thing, a lot of the service you receive in the Middle East is extremely personable — people remember your face, even if they’ve only seen you a few times. The man at the supermarket and the lady at the university bookstore always asked how my studies were going, the man at the hostel in Jerusalem gave us a bit of a discount and a “nicer” room because he knew I had been there before, the women in the language center always gave me a smile and asked how I was doing that morning, and the guy who worked in the falafel restaurant always smiled when he saw me walking towards the CIEE office.
4. My host parents were absolutely adorable. My host dad was never happier than when he was sitting with his cigar and cup of tea in front of the television, watching the news. And my host mother was always making sure I was happy with the food she was giving me and that I understood what was going on in Al-ashq Al-memnu’a (The Forbidden Love), her favorite Turkish Soap Opera.
5. There are some Arabic words that I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop saying, such as Insha’allah (God willing) and Alhumdulillah (Praise God). These phrases were used in every context possible. “I’ll see you tomorrow, insha’allah!” “I am doing fine today, Alhamdulillah.” “Left turn ahead? Insha’allah.” That last one was the most frustrating, since I definitely did not want taxi drivers leaving it up to God whether or not we would be turning left at the circle. I wanted to know concretely that he would watch the road as he drove, we would arrive at the circle, and we would turn left. God had more important things to worry about than us turning left at the circle. Lastly, يعني (ya’ni), which literally means “it/he means” but is used as a filler word, kind of similar to “like.” I have caught myself saying this multiple times in the past few days since I’ve left when I don’t know what else to say.
6. In addition to some words that now just come naturally out of my mouth, I have a few habits that I know I am just not going to be able to get rid of. For example, Jordanians do this weird tongue click thing to mean “No.” To a non-Jordanian, it sounds fairly rude, but it really isn’t. Also, in the U.S., when you get impatient with someone, you stick your hand out with your fingers together and facing up. In Jordan, that’s not nearly as rude of a symbol as it is in the US, and it instead merely means “Wait a second” in an entirely normal, polite way.
7. Finally, I will really miss CIEE. I was really nervous at first with going through a private company for my study abroad experience, questioning my decision to not directly enroll in a university, such as at American University in Cairo. Egyptian revolution aside, I’m really glad I chose CIEE. Perhaps it’s because they’re a private company, and customer satisfaction matters, but the professors and the staff were some of the best that I’ve had. We also had the opportunity to become really close with our professors, since they came on trips with us, and we played cards with them after class. We joked that one professor was the father of the Arabic language program, but he truly was like our Jordanian father, there for any questions we might have. And the other students were also great — we all had a lot in common, since we had all chosen a somewhat unconventional place to study abroad for fairly similar reasons. And it was nice to have that extra support there when things got rough.
Now, خلاص | khalaas (finished)! The semester is over, and I am in Italy for three weeks until I finally head back to America and real life. I will continue to blog from Italy, as I’m sure I’ll have more observations and cultural comparisons while I’m here.
