AC

Today I am grateful for air conditioning. I used to think that the weather in Amman was hot. I would be hot before I made it halfway down the block on the way to work. By the time I would reach the service taxi, I would be sweating. The trip back home was even hotter. This is compounded by the fact that cars turn into saunas when they sit out in the sun. It seems like nearly every time I get to the service station in Al-Ashrafiya, a service taxi fills up right before I get there so I have the pleasure of waiting in the taxi in the sun for several minutes before it fill up. I don't think the heat would be quite as bad if there was a lot of water that I could just jump into as soon as I left the taxi, but Jordan is a desert and there is very little water. However, that changes a bit when you are in Aqaba. The weather is much hotter, but the Red Sea is waiting for you at the end of the street. Today I walked down the street and could feel the heat radiating off of the pavement through my sandals. I jumped into the Red Sea and the top six inches of water was warm. The water wasn't uncomfortably warm, but it was definitely not cold either. It wasn't even cold enough six feet under the water to be a shock to your system when you jump in. The real shock that the Red Sea brings to your system is when it gets in your eyes, nose and mouth when you jump in. Hopefully, not all three of those happen at once. I try to keep my eyes closed when under the water, but I can't control the splashes of other and I would have to say that salt water in the eye is no good. I did get several gallons of salt water up my nose when attempting to learn how to dive however. I was mostly successful, but times like this are when I realize the why I was born in a land-locked state. Water is not my element.

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And a Little Child Shall Lead Them

She told me that today she was fasting. I have to admit that I was a bit surprised at this revelation. I knew that all of the children who were older than eight were encouraged to fast as a part of Ramadan, but I didn't even know if she was older than eight. My confusion was enhanced by the fact that she came to the activities department at the same time as the younger group of kids who weren't fasting. To my surprise, she is actually nine years old. Developmentally she is a few years behind. I don't know all the reasons for that, but she is definitely battling some disease. This becomes apparent when she stands up and her legs are a bit stiff and her belly is a bit swollen. It becomes even more apparent when she smiles and half of her teeth are rotting away. The final straw comes when she takes off her sunglasses and the whites of her eyes are actually yellow. Despite all that she must have gone through in her life and is currently going through physically, she is one of the children at the orphanage who I have never seen without a smile. She makes people happy simply by being around them. That's just the type of person she is. Now, we are nearly a week into Ramadan, and she decided to take on the challenge of fasting from sunrise to sunset. This isn't an easy task for anyone, let alone a child or a child who struggles with physical ailments. But she wasn't put out or grumpy at the prospect. In fact, she was excited and determined. After telling me that she was fasting, she proceeded to tell me the other things that she was doing for Ramadan.

1. Not eating a sandwich.
2. Fast from sunrise to sunset.
3. Working to make her mom happy and not mad or frustrated.
4. Don't hit her siblings.
5. Pray five times during the day.
6. Drink tamr hindi after breaking her fast in the evening.
7. Eat qatayif or Ramadan pancakes.

Her reason for doing this was not simply because the other kids her age were fasting or that she was forced to by the people at the orphanage. Rather she made the decision because it would make God happy with her. That is the power of the faith of a child. It's been a really neat experience to see how the children view Ramadan. Everything they do takes on a special significance. They are generally just as happy and energetic as they are when they aren't fasting. They also spend more time listening to the Qur'an and learning and reciting parts of the Qur'an. My favorite part of the day is listening to the entire group of kids recite Surah Al-Fatihah or the first chapter of the Qur'an. These kids may have been given the short end of the stick as far as life goes, but they have the potential to make a big difference in their lives. All they need to do is put their enthusiasm and faith to work for them. They are so strong. There is a reason that the scripture says, “And a little child shall lead them.”

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Garbage

Today I witnessed a rare occasion. I saw a Jordanian get up from his chair next to his shop in Wast al-Balad, walk over to one of the small garbage cans welded onto the power pole and throw some garbage inside. Throw garbage inside a garbage bin? Who just does that? Not many people here in Jordan. A few days ago I was even shocked to watch a Jordanian youth who was walking by one of the big dumpsters throw some garbage in the dumpster as he walked past. It seems like people are much too busy or tired or something to take the time to find a garbage bin of any shape or size. If there is any natural or unnatural hole or divot in the road or sidewalk, that is a good enough garbage can. Heck, the road is a good enough garbage can. What usually happens when someone finishes with a wrapper or a plastic bag or a paper cup is that they simply toss it out into the street. When I first arrived in Jordan, I was a bit shocked at how dirty everything seemed to be. There was garbage in every street. It wasn't small amounts of garbage either. There would be entire piles of garbage sitting the road. It would get really funny when the pile was sitting next to an empty garbage bin. Sure there are some people who take the time to throw the garbage in the bins, but the mindset is that it's so much easier to just drop a single wrapper on the ground than to take the time to walk over to the garbage bin and dump it in. I mean that's a lot of work for one wrapper. There are also people who have a job specifically to pick up the garbage in the street. However, they don't get everything or even close to everything. I have also learned that fences and any shrub or small bush are excellent garbage catchers. The wind grabs the garbage laying on the ground and moved it along until it happens to pass by a fence or other object that is permeable to wind but not plastic bags. The wind is therefore allowed to pass through, but the bag or other garbage is caught.

I have never been part of an official highway patrol, but I have participated in picking up the garbage that was around the school grounds or on the ground close to the landfill just outside on town. I was always amazed at how clean our school grounds would look and yet we would pick up so much trash. At least it looked like a lot of trash. Cleaning up the garbage on the roads next to the landfill just felt like a waste of time. In my mind, more garbage would just come and replace it anyway. I would still help and participate because I couldn't leave a job half-done. Maybe that is the mindset that a lot of the garbage guys have in Jordan. They are getting paid to pick of the trash in the streets of Amman, but they know that as they pick it up, more will come to replace it. I think that would make doing a good job difficult at the very least and the job wouldn't feel very fulfilling. It's one thing to be in charge of cleaning the streets in America where you can look at them at the end of the day and everything looks cleaner and like a nicer, newer place. It's quite another thing to be in charge of cleaning the streets in Amman where you can look at them at the end of the day and nothing looks different. Ten minutes ago, you picked up the trash along the street, and now another pile is waiting for you. What difference does it make? This is a mindset that is in the whole country. Will it change? It could, but it would take a catalyst and a lot of time.

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Jude

I found my sister Emma's look-alike.  Jude has brown hair that is curly around the edges and falls to just below their shoulders, deep brown eyes that can sparkle with amusement, and a slender body build that given the right coaching could produce a stellar athlete. But it wasn't simply Jude's physical characteristics that reminded me of my little sister. The moment Jude walked in with her mother and noticed the many people sitting on the patio that she didn't recognize, she clung to her mother and would hardly leave her side. Emma used to be just as shy.  Now, she is one of the more outgoing out of the bunch of us kids. That being said, there is hope for Jude. It only took me an hour or two before we were playing “Rock, Paper, Scissors.” It wasn't without effort on my part though. It required a paper frog that actually jumps, several questions that she could answer with either holding up fingers such as how old are you, asking even more questions with a barely perceptible tsk for a no, and a paper rose. At that point her interest was peaked enough that she would answer my questions. At first she would talk through her mom, but eventually she was comfortable enough to speak to me directly. We talked about food and the fact that neither one of us like mulukhia and her favorite fruit which just happens to be watermelon. We talked about her favorite color, orange. We talked about animals and it turns out that her favorite animal isn't a nice pet type of animal such as a cat or dog, but a lion. At least that's what her favorite animal was that day. And we got a picture together. I don't think she was actually smiling in the picture because every time her mom would pull out the camera, she would suddenly remember that she only met me that night and would fall silent again. She also wouldn't look at the camera. I know cameras can be scary, but she was having none of it. The whole evening was very enjoyable. There was good food, good company, and good conversation. When Jude and her family got up to leave, each one of the younger girls was allowed one of the sweets on the table to eat. And yes, Jude took my recommendation. Who knows? Maybe she would have chosen that one anyway. If so, all that means is that she has excellent taste in her desserts. If not, then I made a new friend and that's something that someone can never have too many of.

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Wadi Hassa!

What would happen if you combined the Narrows canyon in Southern Utah and the jungles in Swiss Family Robinson? Wadi Hassa. That's what happens. Some call it a tropical desert. The trip didn't start out very tropical. Definitely more on the desert side of life. In fact, there wasn't a single, growing, green thing in sight. As we approached the river that runs through Wadi Hassa, everything remained brown and dry. However, along the banks of the river, green reeds and other living things were in abundance. Looking at the horizon while standing next to the river, you would see a green strip right next to the river where everything was growing. Following that would be a brown strip where nothing was growing. Finally you would see a blue strip that had no white clouds to mar the pattern. I didn't spend a lot of time staring at the horizon because shortly after getting outfitted with helmets and life jackets we were heading down the river. The first part of the adventure was the first of many “water” slides. Basically we slid down some slippery rocks. It was pretty great. Only a short while later, we reached the first pool. Most of the pools had big rocks or cliffs to jump off of, while we simply chilled in some of the other pools for a while before moving on. Two pools in particular had great cliffs to jump off of. The cliff at the second pool was the picnic spot for lunch. Lunch consisted of sandwiches, fresh tea and almonds. I think it's pretty great that Arabs love their tea enough to haul around all the equipment necessary to fix tea while sitting on a rock that has a small river on one side, and a hill that is nearly a sand dune on the other side. The worst part about eating lunch was that we had to stop moving momentarily and we weren't in the water. Because of that, the flies had a chance to catch up to us. I think I had nearly twenty flies on one sandal. I also think that the spot we stopped for lunch was the worst spot because it was around so much standing water. Other attractions in Wadi Hassa included but was not limited to standing behind a waterfall, walking through the reeds that line the river, spotting some frogs, birds and other wildlife, and sitting in a natural hot pool that didn't smell like sulfur. Believe it or not folks, water in Jordan isn't naturally hot unless it's been sitting out. However, this one stream of water is heated by unknown means that haven't always been in place. Until a couple of years ago, this stream also contained cool water. Since the water is pretty warm and bordering on hot, a few rocks have been placed strategically to dam off the stream a bit and create nice place to sit and rest at the end of the trek through Wadi Hassa. It would have been even better if it had of actually been the end of the trek. But after climbing out of the water, we then had to walk up the dusty road to where the bus was waiting to take us back to Amman. The walk itself wasn't too bad, but I definitely gained new appreciation for the significance of Jesus washing the feet of his apostles. It had only been one day and we were in water for most of it. However, that dust wasn't just sand. It was a fine powder that stuck to your skin and didn't fall off once it dried. It simply caked on more layers. The drive back to Amman was nearly as exciting as the trip down the river. As we climbed up the mountains on the side of the river, the only evidence that Wadi Hassa exists lay is the green line snaking it's way down the canyon. We had only traveled about 2 km, or less than 1.5 miles, and it took us five hours. It's crazy how time flies when you're having fun!

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O Susannah!

It took a minute for my brain to register that the music I heard as I was walking down the street was actually familiar. At first I thought it was because the music being played sounded like a music box on a sound system similar to the music played by the gas truck. Then I realized that the familiarity ran even deeper. The tune wasn't the Happy Birthday song or one of the other two songs that the gas truck plays. The tune came from a much earlier stage of my life. Notes to O Susannah, The Farmer in the Dell, and Yankee Doodle rang out through the neighborhood. I couldn't quite see the source of the music until I went around the corner. Then I saw a cotton candy machine. The strangest thing about this machine was not the music it was playing, but the fact that the only person in the vicinity of the cotton candy machine was the person who was making the cotton candy. It seems like every time there is cotton candy, there is also a line of eager children who are simply dieing to eat the sugary goodness. I didn't stop for any cotton candy, but I would say that the music made my day. Who knew that you could be walking in the middle of Jordan and listen to Yankee Doodle? Now you do.

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Rappin'

My schedule at the orphanage changes very little, but today was one of those days that was different. A few weeks ago, I was informed that other volunteers would be in charge of the activities on Mondays and Saturdays. There have been other days when I have shown up to the orphanage only to learn that the kids would only be there for a few hours. On those days, I have simply spent the remainder of the time in the baby department. I can't complain about that because those babies are also very cute. However feeding babies can get old after four and a half hours of it. Today was one of those days. When I learned that the kids would be leaving the orphanage only an hour and a half later, I asked the woman who informed me of this if they had a regular schedule when they left the orphanage. The answer was no. They didn't have a set schedule. That does make planning my days a bit more difficult, but that's also to be expected. Today the difference came when I was invited to go with them to the center. I was thrilled to accept. Eleven o'clock came up rather quickly and the bus loaded even quicker. Apparently I wasn't the only one who was excited for a change of scenery. We also didn't even have to wait to arrive at the other center for the fun to begin. As we pulled away from the orphanage, the bus driver turned up the music and the kids busted out some dance moved in the aisles. I was rather impressed at how good some of them were. All of them seemed to have a natural sense of rhythm, even the kids who really struggle understanding how to play the piano. After a bit of an adventure in trying to find the center, we finally reached the center which was really couple of dance studios in a mall. The kids from the orphanage made up just over half of the group of kids there. The rest of the kids had families who paid for them to come. It was interesting to see the difference in the development levels between the two groups as the day went on. Maxim was the dance instructor in the first room. They went through a series of warm-ups and then worked on a set dance they have been learning. I have no idea what style of dance it was, but the dance moves were things you see at dance parties in America. At this point, there wasn't a very big gap between the kids from the orphanage and the other kids. However, the other kids were a lot more focused and, generally speaking, they picked up the dance a lot quicker. A McDonald's lunch break was the next item of business. All of the children were very excited. After that, we went into another room where the kids were learning about rap. They had already made up a rap about learning how to read and write a few days before. It wasn't a very long or difficult rap, so it only took one kid about three minutes to teach me the rap they had created as a group. Then all of the kids split up into smaller groups to make up another rap. Music was pumping in the room to give the kids a nice beat to work with. It wasn't long before lyrics started flowing around the room. The only thing was that they were all coming from the kids from normal families and not the kids in the orphanage. I was pleasantly surprised at how well those kids could read and write. Then I looked at the kids from the orphanage. They had given up trying to create a rap. Some were drawing. Others were bouncing off the walls. I also noticed that one boy had even misspelled his name on the corner of his drawing. Shortly after that, one of the other women also pointed out the developmental gap. In her opinion, the cause of the gap is the fact that the kids in the orphanage don't have a normal family. As much as the employees try to create a stable and positive environment at the orphanage, it's just too hard. It's also hard for a child to develop at a normal rate when their 'normal' family situation is also crazy. Throughout the summer, I've found it interesting that the kids prefer to have me draw pictures for them. They prefer to have me roll out their play dough. They prefer to have me color pictures for them. They also don't think they can figure out how to play the piano. They just don't believe that they can do it themselves. At times I think their favorite phrase is “Ma Ba'arif.” Or “I don't know.” Sometimes, I don't know how to respond to that. At other times, I simply affirm that they really do know how to do it. After moments like that, it's really neat to see them focus and do what I had asked them to do. Bravo 'Aliek! Shatar!

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