Reflections

A friend told me a story, about a woman with my name. She converts to Islam, she moves to Damascus, dyes her hair with henna and finally stops asking the question "where do I belong?". Should this story come to pass, five, 10, even 20 years from now know that it was first told on a sunny day in Seattle on the way to the farmer's market.

At our birthday party Ann played this video for us... in context it was hilarious. So, think of the context as you watch it.

I keep listening to Anis Mojgani in the mornings to get myself going.

After two weeks it feels like my mind, spirit and energy have caught up with my body, and are no longer floating over the Atlantic Ocean. I'm so glad that my scattered, spacey gushing emotion phase of re-entry seems to be over. I'm still sleeping a good 9 hours a night.

I've been asked if being in Jordan was hard, as well as if coming back is hard - you know - that reverse culture shock stuff. Honestly, no, neither has been hard. Being in Amman was kind of weird. I was there, I was working, and I was with a group of internationals almost the entire time. I wasn't living on my own, doing my own thing and spending my time with locals in a personal way. Coming back, I'm tired because I worked hard, I'm tired because of jet lag... I'm tired because of the work I'm doing with myself. And, I'm joyfully putting on shorts again when I run, on the street, without worry of being hit by a car. I'm enjoying the weather, the salt air, the farmers market, my friends, my own room and bed, showers without buckets, naps in the sun... It's been pretty smooth all things considered.

Home

That's it, one word: home.

About to Depart

Here it is, my last day in Jordan. It's late, the moon is full and my mind is fairly scattered.

I just got back from Damascus. I've fallen in love with a new city, and it didn't even take a full three days. Walking the old city, sumptuous meals, glowing after a visit to the Turkish bath. Being led to a taxi back to Amman by a one legged man who sounded so, sooo much like Robert Deniro.

Waiting to cross the border into Syria took five damn hours. Five. Not for security mind you, just bureaucracy. But, I was travelling with a Canadian who only needed 10 minutes - her visa cost $52 and mine was only $16 - time or money. The wait was good for me to remember/learn that borders can just be about waiting and ridiculous process, but nothing more serious.

We went to the Mar Mousa Monastery in the mountains - again - incredible luxurious silence. They had a worship service and communion. I, and my two companions, were about the only folks who didn't take communion. I started thinking about my relationship with Christianity again... I was baptized when I was seven, too young for it to be a choice, but well after my grandfather's address. Would it have meant more to me if it had been him, rather than some random and now faceless minister? Probably not, but I can't help wondering.

Thinking about/planning for next year: I'm still going to apply for a Fulbright, probably to do research in Cairo, but more and more not really wanting to live in Cairo for a whole year. I've been thinking about that for the better part of my month here.

Other tidbits...

Archetypes: so many archetypes, and repetition of a few of them too.
Displaced hostility from others, woo.
Trucks that stay 'tug well' on the back.
Pharmacy shelves with whitening cream and personal lubricant right next to each other.
Stories of Disney Land, and a small world after all playing outside during worship.
Lost bandana, mourning of teal bandana that came from the Pendle Hill free room and had a corner missing.
Ridiculous subtitles like "y" for several lines from a character in a bootlegged movie.
Funding: my funding scholarship was approved!
Needing reminders to not over-work, still.
Clean hair, love for having clean hair.
Theme songs.
Rosaries for sale next to a mini Hezbollah flag.

Back to the moon, the laundry, the movie... and maybe some sleep.

Trusting and Continuing

Huge incredible gratitude and relief because I was granted the travel scholarship I applied for. It was a fantastic way to end a very good 29th birthday.

For all of the discernment I did about coming on this program I had a really hard time trusting that the financial support would come through for it to work. At the last minute before leaving and even in my first days here I doubted my decision to come - how could this possibly be wise? But, I came, which I now know was the right choice because of all I've contributed and learned. And financial support has come through (once I get a letter from my Yearly Meeting) and that means that the work really is possible, and not a hardship or over-extension.

Introducing the Middle East to Jaya is interesting... I get to remember what it was like to be here for the first time. What was confusing? What do I wish I'd learned sooner, or wish someone had just told me? I do wish I'd calmed down and given myself the opportunity to travel more - which I'm doing tomorrow. We're off to Syria in the morning. Hopefully the border process isn't too long (as it can be for Americans). Hopefully the convent we've been told about is available to stay in. It would be a wonderful irony if we go out dancing or something sinful while staying there. We've made contact with local Quakers, and I'm looking forward to that as well.

My journal is filling fast, and I'm laughing at myself for bringing along so many books ... I've listened to one audio book and only cracked and then set down one of the three books I brought to read. I don't see myself delving into them more in the next week, even on the plane.

Saying good bye and sending people away: It's begun. Ann and Alex both left tonight. Cecile leaves in the morning, and everyone else will have flown away by the time I return from Syria and Lebanon.

The moon's belly is swelling and will be full in my last days here. I always notice the moon differently in the Middle East, and maybe even more. I notice it more in the sky, as if it's more prominent and significant.

I'm ready to sit in cafes and write poetry, to contemplate this last month's workshops... and also give myself a few days to forget them entirely. Ready to be silent, to be loud, to dance, to be still... and maybe take a nap or two. I'm ready to see the Mediterranean again.

Spirit of the Journey

"Success is not a place at which one arrives but rather the spirit with which one understands and continues the journey" Alex Noble

My last week in Jordan is upon me. I though I wasn't going to be in the Middle East for a while (you know, another year or so). But, here I am, and there's no point saying I won't be back soon - that seems rather inevitable at this point.

AVP and war torn societies, in cultures that are not white or western even though that's what it comes from. While it's not overtly recognized, I see U.S. culture as a product of war, famine and migration... so if it's helpful with the cultural fallout of all that in the U.S. then it may well be in other places too. In our Training for Trainers with adults they had a fishbowl on the question of whether AVP was relevant or useful in the Middle East and communities ravaged by war. Finally - I got to hear from people what they wanted from all this, what they hoped was possible from their interaction with AVP and for their communities. What did I hear? We need more training, more time, more understanding. We need to work with youth and build a new non-violent generation. And I was hearing that sometimes there is no choice but violence - which I think is real, and I heard from the most influential pacifist in my life. The point of pacifism, and non-violence, is to work so that we don't get to the point where violence is the only choice.

Is it appropriate to incorporate faith based understandings of non-violence (namely Islamic ones) to get AVP and other non-violence practices adopted and really understood in the Middle East? AVP is, while founded with a great deal of grounding in Quaker belief of the good in all, without theology and is clearly explained as such in U.S. workshops I've been to here. However, we work with the idea of transforming power, and all the values that go into that. In conversations here about what TP means to people, it's sometimes understood and explained in clearly theistic ways. Are we just saying that AVP is non-religious on the surface? Are we just looking for the broadest cultural understanding we can find in the Middle East, and the best examples we have to work with are religious? Is it an acceptable compromise to use these?

I had this grand intention of resting this summer. I realized last week that, for the last month, I've been working, and working hard. Where possible I've been reasonable with my workload - not reading the amazing stacks of books and reports on refugee mental health, the situation of Iraqi refugee women, refugee women's reproductive health, non-violence and peacemaking in Islam, radical community building for peace and so forth. I am building up an even longer list of books to read - but not right now and not this summer.

Our workshops ended on Thursday - so that part of the work is done. My mind and body are moving towards rest. Friday we had an AVP community picnic in the park under cedars and pines. I picked Jaya up from the airport and we're trying to set our plans for the next week - diving in the Red Sea looks promising, as does a pedicure.

Tonight we made dinner for all the trainers (though two were missing). I made shakshuka, somewhat directed an Arabic salad, we had freekeh, bread, olives, sweets, coffee, juice, dates, bread... and ice cream. Ann and I declared it our birthday party - and there were little masks with fake plastic noses (mine was green). Honor to my grandmother, because today is her birthday.

Reflections on sexual harassment and, what I've finally figured out is the difference between here and in the U.S. is resources. I have more personal, community and official resources in the U.S. than I do here. There are, in fact, less organizations and support programs here as well - but the more significant thing in day to day experiences is the personal and community resources being less by fact of being new and having a small community that's also low on personal capital.

Tentatively resisting buying artwork wherever I go if no for the cost, then uncertainty of who to give it to and how to transport it. Ooh, but I love that I keep seeing such lovely artwork. Lebanon and Syria plans are forming, albeit slowly. Reflecting on what's been of my time here, lots of journaling and even some poetry writing.

Outline of an Update

Petra and Wadi Rum.
Sleeping under the stars.
Exhaustion.
Rejuvenation.
Camel Spiders.
Sunrise in the desert.
Training for Trainers beings.
Food poisoning.
Meeting with an old friend.
Conversations on solidarity: what does it mean to be in solidarity with people who aren't in solidarity with you?
Eating chicken, twice, unrelated to food poisoning.
Love for good cameras.
Dancing.
Necklace lost and found by friends.
Practice with boundaries.
Powerful revelations on life, on forgiveness, on family and my future.

Better Details

Ann skipped down the hall singing "Matchmaker" - she wanted me to meet her Arabic teacher's brother, a nice man who teaches math in the U.S. - just in case I wanted to meet a man while I'm here. Who am I to turn down a visit with a family and some coffee, right? And... after all that's happened in my life this year, why not let someone try and find me a husband too? We all sat in the living room and ate melon. I was asked about yoga... and that was about it for that adventure.

Walking back to the flat yesterday there was this little boy with an amazing bike. He had a feather duster on the front, all kinds of decorations woven into the spokes of the wheels, fringe and tassels hanging from the seat, and some super decorated 'jeweled' mud flaps on the back. It was awesome.

I went out on Tuesday night and felt like a big sister. It was a good adventure, but a really odd one. This boy started telling me about the three girls he was in love with... one of whom had told him she was gay, and he asked her if they could try anyway.

Earlier I wrote about our local trainers being only three people, and all being young women (one only 15 years old). The what and why of this has been settled... but illustrates an ongoing problem too. There would have been more trainers, but several have emigrated. One person in my training this week had his UN interview today and needed to pick between Texas, North Carolina and Colorado as relocation sites (All I could give was impressions of the places - I don't know how easy it is to transfer degrees in these places, what the dollar value of services is compared to anyplace else...). Point being - folks get trained and then leave (I supposed AVP has this problem in the prisons as well). The question, in my mind, is how to keep folks that get trained here connected when they go elsewhere.

I'm still having rumbling thoughts about 'conscientious tourism' of trauma and poverty that's non-productive to exploitive and harmful. I'm building up an internal rant on detoxification, mystification and othering of Muslim women that I've seen western folks do. A khimar is not a burqa is not a niqaab, a jilbab is not a burqa... they're different things, they mean different things, and women wear them for many different reasons. And, as an outsider - it's my responsibility to learn to read people in the way that works here - in this culture - not to expect that folks adapt to me or that they're bad at communicating or unwilling to do so because they don't communicate in the ways I'm used to. Oh, and - dressing in a religiously conservative way doesn’t mean that someone isn’t forward, assertive, intelligent or capable. Now I’m looking for some good, simple, loving ways to communicate those ideas more often.

It's great to be among folks who understand talking to the ceiling. Folks who understand that government surveillance is likely, and may as well be laughed at a bit.

There's a job I want to apply for back in Seattle. It's 30 hours a week... it's ridiculous... right? But it'd be an amazing job, and the kind of thing I'd stay in place for. Of course, this isn't a decision I want to make or even think about while here, but the application deadline is in a few days.

In my last outward adventure of the day I got to hear tomato vendors sing their song "red tomatos, from the country, three kilos for a dinar" it was great.

Tomorrow is, apparently, a trip to Petra, which I'm excited to finally return to. Right now, though, I smell popcorn and need dinner.

Ugly Details

As we do more in the workshops people open up and start sharing more of thier lives and stories. I knew we'd be working with Iraqi refugees, and I knew I would start hearing and seeing what the impact of the war.

One of the youth in my workshop last week told us about walking with a friend in the street, and the friend being shot right next to him. Our program lead was telling me a friend brought her family out of Baghdad because she was tired of her children seeing dead bodies at the end of the street every day.

One of the participants in my workshop this week got a phone call at lunch today - an aunt's home in Iraq was bombed today. He told us "I wish someone would call and tell me they planted a tree or a flower in Baghdad, insead of calling to say that there is a bomb in my family's home." I've heard some of the history of his family's political ties and history, which only complicates matters.

Time Between

We completed the first Basic workshops on Thursday. I rocked an exercise which, I'm told, is difficult on emotional triggers. Some of the youth went really deep and shared about domestic violence in their families, about coming out of war, about diaspora and exile. It was good... and thirty minutes before the exercise I briefly thought I didn't know what I was doing.

I was recounting the story of a co-worker who got a birthday card from our company owner (years ago) that was unfinished. "Sam, You're a great employee and I think you have a lot of" - and the card cut off right there, thought unfinished. Hilarious, no? This is exactly what happened on my affirmation/goodbye poster from the first workshop. "You are very" and that's it, not even a name.

Today we went to the Dead Sea. I went, I floated... and I looked out across the water, and was quite satisfied to stay exactly where I was and just be.

Yesterday was my market day. I went to the swanky outdoor Friday market and loved it. I found this beautiful line drawing of the old city of Jerusalem drawn in the 50's (I think) by the vendor's father. He gave me a British Mandate Palestinian coin. I talked with anarchist activist poets who were, if nothing else, amusing. I enjoyed the artwork. I avoided the Barney music in the children's play area.

I've been thinking about how 'socially conscious' tourism can be a dis-service and exploitive. It's shown up in several ways recently. Tonight, when our AVP group met with Direct Aid Iraq folks, some questions were raised and debated on the benefits and problems of white folks and westerners coming and seeing what's going on, and then leaving. There's this huge expense of getting to a place, we have people show us their lives, their problems, and then we leave and forget about it. Joe Sacco does some great things about this "yeah! show me your trauma, show me your scars!" stuff that happens in Palestine. I see this hang-up on understanding suffering as if there's nothing else that happens a lot. And, even in the worst situations, the worst conditions, it's not all suffering and desperation. There's a range, there's complexity. Not everyone is poor in a 'poor country' and if I fixate on 'these poor people over there who are suffering' then I'm not really connecting with folks as people or connecting with the richness or diversity of experience where I am. (I won't even get into the stuff around calling folks resilient right now.) For now, I'm going to stick with not 'coming to see' but coming to work alongside and learn with people.

Final thoughts of gratitude: I get to learn from some incredible people here and get to know them. I have ginger root and aloe juice. I have gratitude and space for rest.

Workshops continued

One of the girls in my workshop had written "fuck you" in English with a pen on the knee of her jeans. I joinkingly pointed and asked her why it was there. She was so embarassed, it was hilarious. Save covered jet mouth, couldn't stop laughing and crossed her legs to hide it.

I was told that my Arabic accent is so nice, that it's sweet like a child's.

I closed today's workshop with "world ball" - each participant says something about a place that has meaning to them. One girl said she wanted to go to China because age liked the people's eyes... I really really need to talk to my anti-racism buddy. Aside from that most of the youth named Palestine (which wasn't shown on the globe we were using) and Iraq.

One of the participants, Husam, looks just like younger version of my brother. Someone in the program building likes death metal, apparently, and has written about it all over the place in red marker.

The Real Work Begins

We've begun leading workshops.


We're all better at advocating for our trainees than we are for ourselves. The youth in my progrm were not at all happy with the food. On their behalf we could say "yeah, white bread and potato with oil doesn't work as a lunch" but couldn't/wouldn't/didn't for ourselves last week.

I'm running into culture of martyrdom stuff around social services and trying to navigate that. We can, we really can, do social service work, and be in proximity to violence and oppression, without having to do the whole self denial thing. Why should I bring an impoverished and broken self to community work? Who does that benefit? I've been taught that the most important thing we can bring to social service work is our most glorious selves, so tht's what I'm trying to hold for myself and as reminder for others. Navigating this has meant needing more time to myself.

I had hoped that there'd be someone who wanted to exercise with me, which hasn't really happened. But, I'm keeping up pretty well on my own.

It's foucous season, my own excitement isn't really matched by everyone else on this. They are, however, one of the greatest vegetbles in the world.

There's the being with a big group of westerners, and mostly Americans thing that I'm still adjusting too. Sometimes I feel like I'm expected to be more of a resource than I'm comfortable or confident with - I don't know what's going on here yet. I don't know how much to push on some of the bits of Orientalism I've caught - this is a team that I need to work closely with and live with for a month. So here it is... the question of what we sacrifice, and the fear of being disinvited from the table. I need to talk to my anti-racism buddy.

Today was Relief International's rural refugee day. Youth from various programs sang and danced. There was a really long skit on domestic violence that had music and opera-esque poses by the kids. The person sitting next to wondered whether the kids even really understood what they were depicting (boy in sports coat repeatedly striking a smaller girl with a switch... yep, I think they understand). She also asked what their parents might think, watching this. What do they think? I couldn't stop thinking about physical processing - were they going to get any help in physiclliy coming out of the positions of violence they'd just been in?

My last few days have been focused on work, sleep and a little bit of journaling. There are some potentil hikes on the weekend.

New Thoughts and Reflections

Day Three

I’m typing on keyboard without a working a key. This may, or may not be easier. We’ll just see.

Today was the first day off since I arrived. Yesterday I woke for the early call to prayer, but didn’t take the opportunity to run, and missed it. The call was beautiful – the air vibrated with the dissonance between all the different mosques. Today though, without obligation, I woke up late and still got in my exercise running the stairs for 40 minutes. I can’t yet tell whether I need lots or little sleep.

Yesterday I could swear I saw an old friend in the café but didn’t go ask and find out for sure. Synchronicity of the universe being what it is, he found me this morning on facebook. It wasn’t him in the café, but still amazing.

Today we had a shopping trip to get some staples for the house. I wanted brown rice and big containers of yogurt, which we won’t find in the neighborhood shops. We were sent off to major shopping center in the mall. So, I had the whole fluorescent light experience. The thing that stood out for me was the mall music – I’d last heard the song they were playing when I was dancing at R-Place.

Addressing Issues of Cultural Transfer

We started talking about cultural transfer on Wednesday. What are good ways to give feedback and constructive criticism? It’s not appropriate to do in a traditionally Western way, being too disrespectful and forward. The solutions that the local trainers proposed seemed insufficient to me – like using ‘compliment sandwich’ or saying ‘this is something we all need to work on, including you, but really it’s all of us.’

The fact that we’re finishing up training for only three local trainers bothers me. All three are young women, which is wonderful in a lot of ways. Two are staff at RI, the sponsoring organization. Hopefully they will have enough energy to get a local program really running and have local ownership. What if they don’t? Well, then they don’t… or it might just take longer than originally expected.

Values of the organizers and trainers about the importance of local leadership are really strong, which I’m still appreciative.

Ways I’m Finding Myself Resistant

Someone said “as you wish” to me and really, I just had no patience for it. Tell me what you think, what you want, I asked because I want to know. I was too tired to try and tease out whether she was being deferential or just didn’t care.

I’ve been staying in the main flat for the first few nights. It’s the furnished home of some foreigners and super posh. They have a kid, so there are nice touches like leggo’s and a spider man basketball hoop in the shower. I’m moving up to the secondary flat, and not finding myself very patient with the situation. I feel spoiled and fickle for thinking about it, for whatever reason I’m less inclined to adapt than I used to be – or more attached to comfort.

Day Four

Slept little, woke early, went adventuring together on our day off. Forgot the camera in the flat as I got out the door. Wrote haiku with lots of swearing in frustration, took pictures with a little point and shoot for a colleague. Sang in front of six people.

More AVP Thoughts

I keep asking myself if I believe in this stuff. Maybe I do. I need to see and hear parts on community impact, not just the individual. I need to see if it works with an anti-oppression approach and analysis. I think it’s possible, but I’ve also felt resistance. I think that it may be necessary for the intentions of AVP with the Iraqi refugee community. I’m still thinking and still and still questioning – exactly as it should be.

Name Game Adjectives

I’m not much of a fan of the pick an adjective name game. Being cynical and shy has something to do with it. I can also, never, especially on the spot, think of an adjective (alliterative or not) that I like or think fits me. Yesterday I was given list that might work – one of the suggestions was strong. Amazing, I use this word to describe myself, it’s used in descriptions, it’s something I aspire to… and I never considered it or thought of it.



Opportunities

Suggested readings on midwifery, and stories on the benefits of olive oil. Suggestions and support on getting AVP back into the women’s prison in Washington. Encouragement on the benefits of having mentors in the AVP process (which reminds me to directly ask for that).

Other Tidbits

Accidentally bargained for something I didn’t even want to buy… which I felt kind of bad about. Got a working phone (those wanting to call me can ask for the number). Realized we have an elliptical in the main flat – further increasing the posh-ness of the house. I may prefer the stairs (on days when I don’t get up early enough for real run), but we’ll see.

Time for exercise and dinner making.

Arrival

Any trip includes forgetting something. This time it was my keys. The morning of my flight I went for a run, and my house key never made it out of the pocket of my shorts, now tucked in a laundry basket in the corner of my Seattle closet. I did, however pack and carry on my keychain, including my leatherman micra - scissors, blade and all. I realized this as my plane approached Paris, well after us security scans. Ihad to go through security again in Paris, which inxluded more than enough nervousness for the day. It might be found, they'll see the fear in my body language and so on. Nothing. My well traveled micra is still with me and will go home via DHL.

As the flight to Amman approached the Israeli coast we were instructed to stay on our seats to comply with air space regulations. Pass ing over, the difference between new housing developments and old villages was so visible-the former in grids and the later in round clusters that conformed to rhe landscape. We quickly passes over rhe Jordan River, and then I could see the green neon lights of mosques below. We touched down a blood moon was rising, and my exhausted body thought it was 6 a.m.

I was brought to our shared flat and met some of the co-trainers. Next door was a wedding party, complete with wesding songs, men and women, tabla drumming, music, singing and a little gunfire too. We're in a Christian neighborhood, filled with chirches and at least one dedicated liquor store. I was introduced to one of the many (apparently) Western missionaries in the neighborhood. She wished me blessings on my time here. My host and I were quick to cover our own positions on evangelism to each other, I'm not down with converting the masses.

Early in the morning I was up and wide awake. It was gorgeous out- the sky pink and the sun rising while the moon was still up. It was still cool and the streets were relatively empty-perfect for a run. We at living on top of a pretty steep hill, which changes things nicely for my body. I'll push myself further tomorrow. Today it was a Michael Jackson tribute that kept me going.

Today we began a refresher training for trainers. Four Americans were leading, there were two young Iraqi women and one young Palestinian woman along with myself and a Belgian woman. Next week we will be running our own training. I'm starting with basic training for youth aged 12-18. Outreach to this age group has been lacking, no-one had yet registered. This should be remedied by Monday. I'm facing my usual problem of feeling like I've got more facilitation experience than the folks I'm teamed with, and not wanting to take up valuable learning opportunities that will do more do for someone else instead of me. I may as well just ask more seasoned facilitators here how they suggest dealing with this.
Our water is out at the moment, but will hopefully soon be fixed. The wedding party is back. And... I'm tired of typing on my iPod. An, but my Arabic is coming back again and that's rewarding.

What are you doing?

What am I doing?
Working with the Alternatives to Violence Project (AVP) in Amman, Jordan in collaboration with local organizations and doing a lot with Iraqi refugees. AVP is a non-violent communication model started in prisons in the US, now active across the U.S., in many prisons and may countries internationally. Some social service provider non-profits in Amman have asked for AVP training for staff and clients. I, and other folks with AVP experience, are going to help with the trainings and to try and translate the concepts of AVP (with their Western foundations) into something relevant and useful in the Middle East. We'll be training staff at the organizations and clients, youth aged 12-18.
I'm trying to bring a lot to the trainers around self care in this whole process. We'll be having silence together in the mornings. I want to also bring in some other things like yoga and dance.
I'll be doing research that turns into an independent study for school. There's some research I'll help with that's engaging with the difference in understanding of non-violence in the West (which has a fair bit of white stuff and capitalism stuff in it) and non-violence in the Middle East. I'm going to look at how these trainings impact community, community building, and trauma recovery. Is it helping, is it relevant? Are we really working collaboratively?
What else am I doing?
A lot of writing and photography. Some hiking. Some visiting of old friends. Thinking about and hopefully making some new connections with folks about what comes out of this in future years.
What next?
I come back in August, and plan to rest. I've got some notions about how this connects with work that's happening with returned soldiers. I've been avoiding stuff with returned soldiers for a while and that's finally shifting.
What am I doing with this blog?
We'll see. I'm going to write about what I'm thinking and what comes up.