New School Year, Same Old Walls

August 4^th marked the beginning of a new school year for us in Jordan. I would say I am approximately 75% ready… too bad it has already begun so it doesn't matter how ready I am. I was beyond thrills and all smiles to see my kids and to meet the few new students. All my teachers thought that perhaps I had died, or so they said, or that I went back to America because the volunteer before me was only here one year and then left. Not this kid. They are going to have to force me out (okay Syria, don't get any ideas). The most common question was, "weren't you going to paint the walls…?" Yes, yes I was. I still want to very much so because the walls are hideous and make me depressed still. 

I believe I updated everyone, but I am still working on the PCPP grant to get money donated to fix the concrete cracks first, and then paint the walls with the students. Like I said before, I think it be a great way to teach the students a life skill, perhaps learn color mixing, working in groups, time management, motor planning, and most importantly, creativity! Once I have the (seemingly endless) grant completed, I will be on the move! 

In the meantime, I am making crafts with the students, working on making learning fun, using all the fun new gifts from various packages (NCA, mom, Mandy) including: watercolors, crayons, stickers, markers, beads, etc. If you were curious, wanted to send a package but didn’t know what, here is a list of most requested items: 

GLUE STICKS!!!!

 stickers

 glow stick jewelry (no, really)

 blow up balls

 that one game with the Velcro pads and the ball you throw back and forth (I want it for motor skills),  colored cardstock

 watercolor/pastels

 any fun craft thing you see for cheap and want to send because it could be an awesome learning craft for the students. 

Snacks for me (I'm a little selfish like that)

 sugar-free candy/gum (I like to use as reinforcement-mainly for my teachers/busdriver, who is diabetic…he needs a behavioral plan too).

I'm sure my mother has a running list of all the things I ask her for, if you need suggestions. 

Speaking of behavioral plans, we have a new student, Hashem, how has been diagnosed with Autism. He is 5 years old and my new best friend. The first day he came in, he was headbutting, hitting, kicking everyone and everything. I observed and helped a bit, but wanted to see what happened (teachers reactions, his behaviors, etc). Eventually I stepped in and helped isolate him away  from the students/ anything he could grab and throw. The teacher seemed to be watching me because she knew these are the students I used to work with. Thank goodness I actually seemed to be doing something right and he calmed down, only to deregulate again on and off all day. 

The second day I brought in my resistance bands and saw he was already screaming, crying, hitting when I walked into the room. I quickly squatted next to him and wrapped him in a band. With a bit of a squeeze off and on for a few minutes, he sat down and looked in awe. He calmed down and was able to sit with me for 30 minutes. A new student came in and he degregulated again, but the bands helped calm him. When I stopped, he came back over to me and wrapped it back around himself, looking at me expectantly. I thought, "YES! Progress". This has been continuing for the last two days. The teacher looks to me when he starts to get agitated and trusts me to work with him. 

Today she turned to another teacher who was trying to help before I went to the room this morning, and said it's okay now. Megan is here, she will know what to do for him. I can't wait for her to feel she has the same impact/confidence with the therapy tools. This is most useful I have felt my entire service. I don't need language with him, I just do what I learned during my practicum at NCA/ the Joshua Center and hope to God something goes well. Finally something they can see what I am good at, besides drawing flowers and houses for the students. I hope together we can work with him to make real progress and help him become successful in school. If I aid him in getting closer to that, I would consider my service a real success. 

Until then, here are some fun pictures I have taken so far this year using some of our new craft supplies:

Anoud painting with the new watercolors!

Watercolors!

 

Watercolor creations

leaf pressing with watercolors

leaf watercolor pressing

"draw your family" I think that maybe his house is on fire. Normal? (This is my upstairs neighbor!)

Playing catch with our new ball

Hanadie working with the beanbags I made for working on grip strength

most used creation of mine! BINGO turned into matching game (baby and adult animals)

Working on bags

They should start a band/ also I made the Arabic Sign alphabet behind them

Showing off our bags. Behind us is a schedule (today, yesterday, tomorrow, weather) with the signs to match each day that I made

My secret favorites- The classroom for students with hearing impairments with their brand new bags

 

Ramadan= extreme dieting

I thought I would do a quick post on Ramadan since I'm hoping I can teach a bit (I'm actually hoping I am not the only one who doesn't/didn't have a much idea about it). If you have any questions that I don't answer, please leave it in the comments and I'll be happy to answer you! 

Ramadan is the month of fasting in Islamic culture. It is a time of reflection, typically of the religious variety, charity, remembering those less fortunate, self-discipline, and control. Everyone fasts from puberty until old age, unless you are menstruating, pregnant, beast feeding, sick, or a bus driver currently working. Often children will start younger than puberty because they want to be a "good Muslim", or at least that was the answer I got from the kids when I asked. 

Muslims fast from before sunrise (around 3:30-4ish) til sunset prayer (7:30ish pm). During this time there is NO food or beverage (water included!), no smokings, and no sexual relations. People still work; however the hours are decreased and oftentimes are nonexistent entirely toward the middle/end of the month. This year was particularly difficult because it was in August. August, particularly where I live, it the worst month. It was practically unbearable and I was just staying in my house and drinking loads of water. 

My experience during Ramadan was that everything stopped. My whole village seemed to shut down. There was no school, but no kids were playing outside, no teenagers roaming the streets, birds didn't even come out. That may be a bit dramatic, but it is how it felt. My neighbors would stay  up as late as possible, then sleep all day to avoid feeling hungry. They would wake up around 3-4pm to start preparing break-fast. I would roll out of my house around 7:30 to eat with them at 7:45 and stay for a few hours to visit during the evening. At approximately 7:15pm my entire village became electric, you didn't have to see anyone to know they were sitting around the food (im)patiently waiting for the first call to prayer in the evening. As soon as the first note was hit, everyone began eating the dates (the typical first food of breakfast) and then furiously devouring the rest. After about 15 minutes of nonstop eating, tea was served, then fruit, then breads, then more fruit, then another drink, then sweets, then coffee…and so on. So much food! Because of this, the days I ate with my family (which was most days) I would fast during the day, besides water. I sat directly under my fan in order to cool myself and drank water as if it was the only thing saving me! 

One of my friends said this when I asked why he liked Ramadan: "I like the feeling of family. I like that everyone in Jordan is sitting down to eat at the same time. I like the reminder of those without live, and I like the challenge." I feel like that sums up the idea of Ramadan more than I ever could.

Eid alFitr (basically giant break-fast holiday the day after Ramadan is over) was an experience in itself. My family was beyond excited, as this is their biggest holiday. Everyone gets new clothes, food is served like never before, and the visiting never ends. I mean NEVER, the holiday is a few days, so people can travel and visit too. My celebration started the night before when my landlady gave me a new pair of pjs to wear (very xmas eve in some families) and an order to come visit as early as possible. I talked her down from 7am to 8ish. Let me remind you that we had collectively been going to sleep at like, 6am so waking up at 7am was laughable to me. 

I showed up at 8:00am to see what exactly was going to happen so early. I was expecting a nice breakfast, maybe some falafel, eggs, date bread, etc…what I got was very different. All the men were sitting outside with the coffee and ignoring the children, who were dolled up in new dresses , jeans, hi-tops, headbands…and toy guns. Nothing would be complete without very loud toyguns going off every 15 seconds. I walked inside and walked straight into the butchering of a goat. The women were elbow deep in goat parts and blood, hacking away like it was totally normal for this to be happening at 8am. I sat and watched them, drank some tea, and laughed at the kids as they ran back and forth. Finally, at 10am I found out that goat was brunch and they made some sort of stew with it. I am not an eater of goat. I ALWAYS get sick after, so I just had some broth and pita. 

Besides that we didn't eat much in terms of meals. I sat and greeted guests as my landlady's daughter (she is adamant that is how I am introduced), drank gallons of sugary tea, ate 500 dates,  ate random gifts of candy, chocolate, fruit, etc. until I was falling asleep where I sat. At about 3 I took a couple hour visit break and hid in my house, making oatmeal and checking in with other volunteers on their adventures. Many of them went to other houses to visit different families, but since my landlady is the elder in the family, everyone comes to her. Eventually I made my way back to the visit area, which had now become our veranda. I took my spot next to her and again played happy daughter, meeting people, impressing with my amazing Arabic (not really), and taking bets on how many more people would call me skinny as they came in. Every single woman said it. By the end of the night my landlady and I were laughing about it. This went on for a few days, by the end I was exhausted, chatted out, and never wanted to see another date again in my life. It was 100% worth it and I am so happy I got to experience what Eid was like with a family.  

Insha'allah next year won't be quite as unbearably hot, or maybe I will go on vacation to Antarctica. 

Some pics:

Typical Break-fast: meat, soup, eggplant dip stuff, salad, molkheah (spinach soup= the WORST)

2/3 of the boys that live upstairs, Omar & Ahmad

Fruit during break-fast

Sweet Eid al-Fitr pj set

well, good morning...

Hacking away like pros

Getting lost, one city at a time

I know, I know…I am no good at this. To show I'm horribly sorry and I am going to try and be way more proactive, I am going to bombard you with posts and pictures as I wait for the dough for my apple dumplings to rise. I am finally adventuring outside of eggs, pancakes, and stews. I figured out (sort of) how to bake on my stovetop (no oven) so I have been at making bread items nonstop for the past week, which is doing nothing to help with my weightloss goals. As far as I know, they do not sell flour in my village and I won't be traveling to the American supermarket for awhile, so there is hope!

First I want to be that obnoxious person who talks all about vacation. Living and working in Jordan with little chances to be "American", meaning wearing t-shirts, talking to guy friends, or *gasp* enjoying a cold beer at times, I felt it was time to get out for a bit. I mean, It was about 9 months… I made up my mind, and my fellow volunteer (and closest friend) Judith and I chose Istanbul, Turkey and Tel Aviv/Jerusalem, Israel for our week vacation out of country. 

My neighbors have been begging me to go with them to Palestine/Israel since I got here. They have family that still live across the border and talk about it as if it were the most magnificent place. In fact, that is about the only topic my landlord and I discuss as his wife is making dinner or generally running around yelling at kids. I can tell by the tone in his voice that he misses it with his whole heart. You see, he moved here in 1948 when most of the Palestinians were forced out, and their land claimed. He affirmed that most of my village is made of Palestinians, a fact I hear about once a month from someone here. For this reason, and many others (mainly PC related), I could not tell them I was going to Israel. I was heartbroken. I longed to tell him that I ate the fish he told me about, I saw the beach he went to as a child, and felt the same warmth from the people that he brought to Jordan with him. I wanted to be able to show pictures and tell stories of my time in their homeland and knowing I still cannot share that piece of shared experience killed me. My neighbors believed I spent the entire week in Istanbul, and were sorely disappointed when I didn't have more pictures of ALL my Turkish adventures. 

Here I am getting ahead of myself.  Let's start in Istanbul, shall we? We arrived around 6am and quickly discovered that no place in the airport exchanged the Jordanian Dinar. Luckily for us, I was traveling with some US money that Mom forced me to bring to Jordan "just in case". Thanks Mom! We had enough to get on a train and head toward Sultanahmet, the area our hostel (and the tourist locations) was located. Once there, we found that most placed exchanged JDs, so Judith was back in the game! We went to our hostel, napped for a bit, then explored the HagiaSofia (pics below), the Blue Mosque, the fountain between them, the general tourist area full of souvenirs, food, foreigners, and hookah bars. I believe on day one we got lost a few times, always managing to be down an enormous and steep hill from where we needed to be. I worked off all the calories I ate, and then some during Istanbul! Day two and three ended up being very similar to Day 1. We took a boat tour around the Bosphorus Strait to see the islands and the bridges connecting Europe to Asia, we got lost again, ate tons of fresh fish, went to the Galata Tower, got lost again, ate ice cream, went to a craft show, and finally had to catch our flight.

It was strange being in a different country where Islam was still a predominant religion. I am used to the conservative outlook of Jordan and was jarred by the contrast in Istanbul. I don't really remember hearing the call to prayer often, even though we were next to a mosque, and many people chose not to fast for one reason or another. That is unheard of in Jordan. Everyone fasts, and if you aren't, you still say you are fasting. Aside from that, the integration of both European/Middle Eastern, as well as Christian/Islamic culture was beautiful. It was frustrating feeling as if I should understand people/ be able to speak Arabic, but I couldn't understand them, and they didn't know Arabic… disappointing! That being said, I am moving there immediately. I never wanted to leave, but was excited about what Israel had to offer. Pics of Turkey below:

The Hagia Sophia

 Inside Hagia Sophia

Me in Hagia Sophia

 Me in the courtyard of the Blue Mosque (Sultan Ahmet Mosque)

The fountain between the Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque (I wanted to live in this fountain)

 

The. Best. Chicken. Shish. Ever.

 

 One of the Bosphorus Bridges

The Dolmabahce Palace on the Bosphorus Strait. AKA my future house.

The view from the top of the Galata Tower

 We got lost daily, but if you don't get lost, you never get to these little pieces of beauty, just off the beaten path.

We got into Tel Aviv and immediately got lost again. We got off the train too early, and got turned this way and that. Eventually we gave up and took a cab, which turned out to be incredibly expensive, as is everything in Tel Aviv. We didn't plan on spending much money though because our number one goal was to live on the beach. Judith grew up near the beach (she's from LA), and I have a thing where I need to be by or in the water at all times to feel whole, so it was a perfect pairing!

After putting our stuff at our hostel, we went out on the town! Well, sort of. It may be more accurate to say we went to a tapas place and then directly to the beach for nighttime beach appreciation. We walked around a boardwalk, saw amazing street art, and, you guessed it, overshot our turn and went about 30 minutes too far. We were lost again. Luckily not once did I feel afraid or threatened in Tel Aviv. We walked through Jaffa (old old old old city) at night and finally found our way back to the hostel. The next day was beach/ Jaffa/ killer sunburn day. We sat at the beach for a few hours, I lost my sunglasses to the ocean while wave jumping with children, and got incredibly sunburned. It turns out, when most of your skin hasn't seen the sun in 9 months, it is even more important to reapply sunscreen on a 15-20min basis. Silly me. 

 The beach! 

Jaffa

So sunburned! 

 The souk in Jaffa

We didn't have much time in Tel Aviv and had to grab our bus to Jerusalem. That evening we got into Jerusalem, got to the hostel and found out it was the biggest, most well-run, amazing, lovely, fun, spirited, monster of a hostel. They knew exactly what they were doing. It was perfect! I highly highly recommend Abraham Hostel in Jerusalem. They offered tours, theme nights, things to do in the city, etc. I was so happy! 

The next day we joined a free tour of the Old City to get our bearings on the city before wandering around ourselves. After wandering around for a bit, hearing the history, and stopping for photo ops, we ended up on the The Holy Church of the Sepulchre looking out over the Temple Mount and heard the most haunting call to prayer. It began with one man singing "God is Greater"…following quickly by two more mosques calling Muslims to prayer. A chorus of "God is Greater, there is no God but God…come to pray…God is Greatest". As this rang through the air, each word lingered in the air and I felt an infinite sadness. An overwhelming, crushing feeling of heartbreak. My heart broke for those who were forced to leave this place they called home. My heart broke for those who suffered while they stayed. My heart broke for the conflict. My heart broke for the families I live with, eat with, laugh with, and love. My heart broke. I began to cry with no ability to even attempt to control the tears. I felt so completely devastated. As the prayer continued and my mind focused solely on my landlords eyes and the way they lit up when talking about his home in Palestine, I had to walk away from the group and try to collect myself. I looked at Judith, with hope of getting a sympathetic smile and a hug, but I could see the tears coming from under her sunglasses. Her brow was furrowed much like mine in an attempt to understand what just happened. We never could describe that moment. I don't think there is a way to make it real for others. I know it hit me harder than it should have and I knew that I belonged to Jordan, my neighbors and their story. 

Inside the Holy Church of the Sepluchre

Inside the Holy Church of the Sepluchre

 One of the amazing pieces in the Holy Church of the Sepluchre

 At the Western Wall

Praying at the Western Wall

I was right about here when I heard that call to prayer

After that experience nothing else on vacation seemed to matter as much. We went through the motions of seeing the sites, taking pictures, and of course, getting lost. At least when we got lost this time it was in the Muslim quarter so we were able to speak with people and here music that was once anxiety-provoking, but was now the sounds of comfort… of home.

We made it back, a big thanks to Judith who had to exchange all her money in order to get me back across the border. Turns out I am not so good with budgets. I'll learn someday… maybe.