The Arab week is one of the more annoying cultural differences that I haven't fully gotten used to... ma sha Allah (What God wills). Since Jordan is an Islamic country, the Arab weekend begins on FRIDAY (The Arabic word for Friday translates to Gathering day since it's the day all Muslims go to the Mosque for their Friday noon prayers and sermon). Saturday is also a day of rest for Arabs however Sunday is a work day. So my first Sunday in Jordan was a big test day for all us in the Arabic language program. I won't go into my Academic experiences here in this post since there's so many other things to tell. One of the program coordinators from Yarmouk University who's official job is to take care of foreign students (like us) is named Ayham Abu Sha'ur. Ayham is Jordanian and is part of a visible minority group here in Jordan; the Jordanian Christians most of whom are either Roman Catholic or Orthodox. The Arabic terms for Christian denominations is slightly confusing since the Arabic word for Orthodox is Catholiki or Rumi while the Arabic word for Roman Catholic is Latin.
Our first Sunday here in Jordan I found out Ayham was also Catholic so I went to his office and told him in Arabic that I was Catholic and that I was very interested in going to mass that day. Most importantly at the time I asked him where a Catholic Church is and what time mass was. He arranged to pick me up an hour before 6 PM mass so that he could take me town the town the Church is located in (El Husn which is a suburb of Irbid and his a Christian population of 20-30%) and show me all the different churches in the area. Ayham showed me the Orthodox, Roman Catholic, Mormon, and Seventh Day adventist Churches in the town. Of course I decided to go to the Catholic church.
Ayham decided not to go to mass with me because he said he wanted to sleep, I think he had been up for 2 days straight trying to get things together for the program. This is random but all of us in the program love Ayham, despite the fact he is kinda of chain smoker he loves to play volley ball with us. Apparently he's very good too. Anyways, I was over 30 minutes early to mass so I knelt in the pews looking at the religious artwork the Church's walls are decorated in and tried to read excerpts from scriptures in decorative Arabic calligraphy that are all over the Church.
Despite feeling pretty comfortable with the Arabic language, I only understood about 15% of the words of the mass. Everything was said very quickly. Arabs tend to speak Arabic very quickly specifically when they speak in their dialect. Two men in their mid twenties sat next to me and helped me with the pray books and hymnals so I could follow along with what was going on despite the language barrier. The most interesting things that struck me in the church were the groups of Palestinian teens from Ramallah who had come to visit Jordan and were helping with the mass and the fact that this church is in the Diocese of Jerusalem. I find that pretty cool I'm going to be celebrating mass in the Catholic diocese of Jerusalem; Technically the oldest diocese!
After mass I walked out of the church and walked around the nearby streets wondering if I should look around or go back to Yarmouk University. As I pondered the two men who sat next to me began to talk to me in Arabic and asked what my name was and where I was from. I walked with them for a bit and then they introduced me to their mother who was walking a couple yards in front of us. I found out the two men were Michael and Samat and their mother was Adeel. "Hey, come see our house. Have a pepsi with us." Amazed at the time at this unreserved friendliness on their part (now I'm used to it... Arabs love to greet people they see on the street and invite them for tea.) I gladly accepted their invitation and walked with them to their house. They opened their door for me and I stepped into their living room which was very clean and had family pictures, a poster of George Wassouf (a Lebanese singer who they told me is also Christian) and picture of the Blessed Mother with a Rosary dangling down. After having two cups of pepsi (Arabs do NOT like to see that you have an empty cup) they asked me if I wanted coffee. I love Arabic coffee, it is very different from American coffee or even espresso. Arabic coffee is made in a special tiny saucer like thing with a long handle. The grounds are not filtered and Arabs drink it with a good amount of sugar and bits of ground up cardamon which give a very nice zing to it. It's the cardomon that distinguishes Arabic coffee from Turkish coffee which is also very popular here in Jordan. Mid way through my second coffee I began to catch on to the Nimri family's devious plot: they were going to keep me for dinner. After coffee they told me (I already knew by now) that I had to stay for dinner. Of course I did and enjoyed it. For dinner we had this vegteble, chicken and rice soup along with tomatoes, bread, olive oil, olives, tuna fish, and lebneh (thick strained yogurt). Over dinner I told them about life and the states and they told me about their lives. The mother, Adeel, is from Damascus but moved to Jordan with her husband I think some time in the sixties or 70s. I met their daughter Rina who had recently graduated from a technological University with a degree in engineering. Rina spoke pretty good English but the family mostly spoke to me in Arabic because they knew I'm here in Jordan to study Arabic. Adeel (who spoke Arabic and French fluently) joked with me about the different dialects. When I speak the Jordanian dialect I try to use words and pronunciation that would be more rural. Rina was joking about this since Syrian Arabic is gentler and considered more urbane. Anyways, Rina made fun of qafs (and Arabic letter that Syrians tend to skip over with a pause while bedouins use a gaf sound) and the way non-Syrians say it.
I arrived at the Nimri around 7 PM and didn't leave till 11 PM. My first dinner with an Arab family. In Sha Allah more to come.
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