It’s official!  This morning, Jason received a handshake for our next post.  When we started the bidding process months ago, our possibilities looked like this:

But slowly the possibilities shrunk down, and now we have a winner!  So, to review:

We started here.

Now we’re here.

And next we’re headed here.

Pretoria, South Africa.  The home land of Nelson Mandela, Oscar Pistorius and Charlize Theron (aka, The Good, The Bad and the Beautiful).

We couldn’t be more excited!

 

A few years ago, I wrote a post entitled The ABC’s of Our Lives in Taiwan.  So to continue that tradition, I call this edition, The ABC’s of our lives in Jordan.

A is for Amman and Arabs.  We have come to love them both.

B is for Brown and Blue.  In Jordan, the sky is always blue and pretty much everything else is brown. C is for Camels.  We love them, even though they smell really bad. D is for the Dead Sea.  It’s good for floating in, skin softening mud, exfoliating salt, and beautiful sunsets. E is for Embassy.  It’s a lovely facility and I wish I could show a better picture, but this is as close a shot I can get without being … well … shot. F is for Food.  Specifically Flatbread, Figs, and Falafel.  Seriously, you gotta try them!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

G is for Garbage Can Cats.  Another name for street cats.  They live in all the dumpsters.  We’ve been known to give them somewhat condescending names like Botulism, Salmonella, and Bubonic Plague.

And sometimes we play with them–which kinda grosses out the locals.

H is for Hijab.  Worn by most Muslim women and a few Barbies. I is for Israel.  Our next-door neighbor which has our other favorite I thing:  Really good Internet.  We enjoy visiting, but we’re really glad we live in Jordan. J is for Jerash (the ancient Roman city famous for its amazing ruins) and Jordan River (the site of Christ’s baptism).  Both are important historical sites, but one is prettier than the other. K is for Keffiyeh.  The traditional headdress of Arab men.  It normally comes in black or red. L is for Livid Husband whose wife took a picture of him with Garbage Can Cats.

M is for Mosques.  I love the Call to Prayer that sound from them five times a day. N is for Neatly Lined Rows.  I love the grocery stores in Jordan.  They are the nicest I’ve ever seen overseas.  They carry lots of American products, though at exorbitant prices. (Example: cereal runs $8-$12 per box–and not Costco size boxes).  It’s a “you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” kind of thing.  They provide our American products, and we pay their inflated prices.  Everyone’s happy!  (Except Jason, he’s not that happy about it.) O is for Overseas School Trips.  Cecily has done school trips to Qatar and Ethiopia.  Ben went to Dubai and later this year he’s going to Vietnam.  Later this week, Noah heads to Kuwait. (The only photos Ben took in Dubai were of fancy cars.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

P is for Petra.  We’re proud to have one of the Seven Wonders of the World in Jordan.

Q is for Queen Rania.  In 2011, Harper’s and Queen magazine named her the most beautiful queen or first lady in the world. (No, I have never met her.) R is for Refugees and Ruins.  We have lots of both.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

S is for Sheep and their Bedouin Shepherds.

T is for Theater–as in the Roman Theater in downtown Amman. U is for Unbelievably Delicious Hummus.  I’m completely ruined on hummus. V is for Vegetable Stand.  My favorite place to buy produce is from this Egyptian family-owned produce stand.  They even take my produce to my car.  I love them!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

W is for Water.  Recently, Jordan fell from 4th most water-poor country in the world to 2nd most water-poor.  Water is a big deal here.  Conservation is vital.  Also, like most of the world, tap water in Jordan is not safe for consumption.  Consequently, we only drink and brush our teeth with bottled water.  Most Americans don’t realize how rare it is to have safe tap water.

X is for Xtremely Cute Husband.  (I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again!) Y is for Yes, We Got My Mom on a Camel.  See the video here. Z is for Zero Regrets.

Though today is Friday, it is the Sabbath in Jordan.  We follow the Muslim Sabbath, so today is our sabbath as well.  Today, I drove through a neighborhood in Amman where there were a bunch of cars parked along the street.  I wondered what all the hubbub was about, then quickly realized that I was near a mosque.  Men were pouring into the mosque for their midday prayers.  It was a very inspiring sight.

I have been inspired a lot by Muslims since moving to Jordan, 15 months ago.  I’m inspired by their attitude toward prayer.  Muslims pray five times a day.  They often go to the mosque to pray.  Many choose to pray at their mosque during the week, not just on the Sabbath.  But most prayers are done at home, work, or even out in the public.  It’s not uncommon to see men praying by the side of the road, in a store, at our children’s school.  It’s very common to find someone praying behind the counter in my favorite produce stand.  Muslims men aren’t embarrassed to show their devotion to Allah in public.  It’s very impressive.  I have tried to pray more earnestly and more often since moving here.

Muslim women show their religious convictions in their dress.  Most Muslim women dress very modestly–long sleeve shirts and long pants or skirts to the ground.  Many choose to wear a headscarf.  Most choose the hijab which covers their head and neck.  A few wear the niqab which covers their face, but leaves their eyes exposed.  It’s rare to see a full burqa in Jordan.  Many women wear an abaya over their clothes.  I occasionally hear stories of women who wear these because they are forced to by a father, brother or husband.  But I honestly believe that most wear them by their own choice.  I’m impressed by this outward manifestation of their religious convictions.  Since moving here, I have tried to become more modest in my dress.

We’re in the midst of our bidding cycle for our next post.  I’ve been watching the trends toward bidding on Jason’s position in Jordan.  It makes me a bit sad that few are choosing to bid on Amman.  I think that many people are afraid of what is going on in the Middle East right now.  Though I understand the fear, I have to say that I have not felt in danger for even one second since I moved to Jordan.  The Arabs and Palestinians in Jordan have been nothing but warm, kind, and hospitable to me and my family.  They are truly peaceful people.  Their religion preaches peace.  Extremists are the minority.  They represent such a tiny percentage of Muslims.  And the Jordanian government has tried to crack down on extremists.  The Muslims that I know are just as dumbfounded by groups like ISIS as I am.  They don’t understand the hate and extremism anymore than I do.

When we lived in Taiwan, I loved going into temples and observing the worship of Buddhists and Taoists. Here in Jordan, I love observing the worship practices of the Muslims.  I feel that I am a better Mormon and a better Christian because of their examples.  Observing religious observance of any religion is always inspiring and beautiful.

Happy Sabbath!

This week we celebrated Eid al-Adha in the Middle East.  Eid al-Adha is the Muslim holiday that celebrates Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son Isaac, God’s sparing Isaac and providing a lamb for Abraham to sacrifice in place of his son.  Many Jordanian Muslims celebrate the holiday by purchasing a sheep or goat, killing the animal and giving 1/3 of the meat to the poor and needy, 1/3 to friends and family, and retaining 1/3 for themselves.  As we drove outside of Amman last Friday, we saw countless pens selling animals along the road like this one:

They reminded us of Christmas tree lots in the west during the month of December.  Muslims would purchase their animals and take them home in the back of trucks:

And sometimes in the backs of their cars:

We chose to celebrate Eid by heading to Israel, where ironically, the Israeli Jews were celebrating Yom Kippur.  It is very rare when Eid and Yom Kippur are celebrated during the same week.  Yom Kippur is a Jewish holiday marked as a day of repentance with a 25-hour fast and prayers.  We were lucky enough to start the day in Eid-celebrating Jordan and end the day in Yom Kippur-celebrating Israel, with a dicey border crossing serving as the bridge between the two holidays and two countries.

We then spent the next few days playing on the beach in Caesarea:

Visiting a crusader castle in Akko:

Visiting beautiful Baha’i gardens in Haifa:

And visiting the holy sites in Nazareth:

The Mount of the Beatitudes:

The Mount of Transfiguration:

And the Sea of Galilea:

An incredibly sobering experience from our trip came when our guide took us to the Golan Heights and we were able to look down into Syria from a lookout point.  Every few minutes we heard loud booming sounds and could see smoke rising in various points on the horizon.  The town closest to the Israeli border was a ghost town.  UN peacekeeping soldiers from Russia and Estonia stood just feet away from us, watching the border through powerful binoculars.

And it came to pass in those days, that Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee, and was baptized of John in Jordan.  And straightway coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens opened, and the Spirit like a dove descending upon him:  And there came a voice from heaven, saying, Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.  –Mark 1:9-11

This morning, three kids from our branch were baptized by their fathers in the Jordan River.

Immediately after the kids were baptized, their fathers confirmed them on Jordan’s banks, giving them the gift of the Holy Ghost.  The kids and their dads were still dripping from their baptisms.

It was sublime.

I recently started a new job.  Jason took this picture of me on my first day of work; much like we take pictures of our kids on the first day of school.

I work in the political section of the embassy.  My job title is Human Rights Vetting Assistant.  Though my position is only part time, this is my first job outside the home in 18 years.  You heard it right–18 years.  Since the birth of my oldest daughter.

The political section at Embassy Amman is full of a bunch of hard-core diplomats.  These people are smart.  Half the time I sit in meetings and have no idea what anyone is talking about.  Some days I swear they are speaking Russian.  State Department peeps use a lot of acronyms.  For one who has no idea what 99% of the acronyms stand for, it seems like they are speaking a foreign language.  I spend a lot of time feeling really dumb.

I feel dumb just trying to get into my office.  Security at our embassy is such that I have had to memorize four different numerical codes which I have to enter at various locations around the embassy before I can even enter my office.  How am I supposed to remember all those numbers?  18 years of motherhood has scrambled my brain to the point where I can’t remember my own blood-type.  I’m reminded of the first week of junior high when I lost sleep over my continual fear that I would forget my locker combination.  Yesterday, at the last code location, I missed the time limit to enter the code, triggering a loud alarm.  I fully expected a contingency of Marines to rush in, tackle me to the ground and hold me there until I recited the Pledge of Allegiance backward and named the last ten winners of the World Series, in order.  Surprisingly, no Marines rushed in.  Instead, a colleague arrived right then, turned off the alarm and all was well.  I then sheepishly called the Marines at Post One, told them who I was and where I was.  Then I apologized for tripping the alarm.  Frankly, they didn’t seem to really care.  But I felt really dumb.

As for my actual job, I received basically no training.  The woman I replaced left post about a month before I started, so I have never actually spoken to her about the position.  I received about 15 minutes training from a temp.  So, by and large, I have had to figure things out on my own.

And I think I may have screwed up a couple of times.

So today, though it’s the weekend, I snuck over to the embassy to check the status of a vetting case I’ve been stewing over.  And, SUCCESS!  I received word from DC that the case was cleared.  I didn’t screw up after all!

For those of you who have been in the work force for all of your adult lives, I know this sounds pretty unimportant.  My husband is continually telling me to stop fretting over all this.  But I can’t help it.  Because I have been a housewife for the past 18 years, I feel like I now have something to prove.  I can contribute.  I can produce.  I can be successful.

And making peanut butter sandwiches isn’t my only skill.

Jordan, I love you!  I love your landscapes, I love your food, I love your people!  But the one thing I don’t understand is how a country that could produce such lovely, friendly, hospitable people, could produce such … (what’s the most diplomatic word to use here?) … “creative” drivers and road infrastructure?

Rather than pulling up to a stop sign so that their front bumpers are on the white line, your drivers artfully align their back bumpers with the white line.  I probably shouldn’t complain, because at least your drivers stop at stop signs.  But those of us in the right lane literally have to swerve completely into the left lane to avoid colliding into cars idling 3/4 of the way into the intersection.  

And speaking of intersections, I love it when your drivers pretend that their cars are intersection islands.  Parking a car in the intersection and leaving it there for hours at a time is a thoughtful way to guide the rest of us drivers into a proper right hand turn.

Continuing the topic of intersections and islands, rather than opening the islands at intersections, making left-hand turns possible where someone would actually need to make a left hand turn, your city planners felt that we needed to perfect our U turn skills by opening the islands in the middle of the block.  Why make a simple left-hand turn when you can U turn it instead?

And last on my list of intersection delights is your drivers’ propensity for laying on their horns the second the light turns green.  Why wait your turn in silence as drivers begin moving forward at a green light, when you can enjoy an entire chorus of honking horns?

Furthermore, it warms my heart to see an adorable father tenderly holding a toddler on his lap as he is driving down the street.  Just think, in the U.S., that child would most assuredly be taken from that father and placed in a foster home.  I say, why bog down social service agencies with this kind of thing, when there are real criminals out there?  Let the toddlers steer their SUV’s in peace!

There is a theory among westerners who live in Jordan, that the street painters opt for watercolor as their paint of choice when applying lane lines.  After lanes have been painstakingly painted, they seem to disappear after the first sign of rain.  Watercolor is the only logical explanation for how they seem to disappear so soon after application.

And because there are no lanes visible on streets, Jordanians creatively turn two-lane roads into four or six-lane roads.  They’ll even make a lane on the sidewalks if it’s feasible.  And it’s always feasible!

But Jordan, my very favorite thing about driving your streets is your love of using speed bumps on your highways.  What’s more fun than hitting a speed bump at 60 miles per hour?  I just love the way my minivan goes airborne for a split second –testing the skills of those Japanese suspension engineers.

So Jordan, when it appears that I’m cursing and gnashing my teeth at your drivers and your roads, know that I’m doing it with the greatest of love and admiration.  Driving your roads is more fun than playing Mario Carts or Need for Speed: Hot Pursuit.  In your country, I’m able to get my video driving game fix on real roads.  Thank you for that!