I stood up on the stage of the Yarmouk University auditorium with 29 other Peace Corps trainees, my right hand raised, and swore that I “will support and defend the Constitution of the United States of America against all enemies, domestic and foreign…and will well and faithfully discharge my duties in the Peace Corps, so help me God.” The audience was filled with Jordanian dignitaries, the next US ambassador to Jordan (pending Senate confirmation), school principals, youth center directors, and the host families we had lived with during our ten weeks of training. The ceremony was mostly a lot of show for the Jordanians. For the new Volunteers, it was the finally the beginning of our new adventure—2 years of service in Peace Corps Jordan.
I threw my 5 bags of stuff (Americans just can’t live without our stuff) into the back of my new principal’s car and off we drove to Yubla, the village where I will be living and teaching English for the next 2 years. I was excited and terrified all at the same time, for the change that lay ahead and by my total ignorance of what to expect. Pre-Service Training was a long 10 weeks of being immediately immersed into a new culture and language and trying to acclimate while also searching for anything familiar to identify with. Jordanians are very welcoming, but the host family I was paired with was a bit dysfunctional and constantly analyzed everything I did as if I was I was the strangest thing they had ever seen. Needless to say, I was eager for the change of environment to one where I would hopefully be able to have more privacy, independence, and friendships. But, in training I had 5 other trainees living in my village with me and a Jordanian teacher/translator to help bridge the communication gap. Now I would be in a new village totally on my own—no other Americans to spend time with, no translator to help me communicate and get settled, and no knowledge of where anything is or how to get anything I need. Through training I grew accustomed to this state of having no idea what was going on or what to expect next, but I eventually learned to stay optimistic and just go with the flow.
I have been living in Yubla for 12 days now and am slowly starting to get settled. As I make my apartment into my home and meet more people, I can even picture myself living here for the next 2 years. My apartment consists of three small rooms, a kitchen, a bathroom (no western toilet—it’s a squatterL), and a huge balcony and sits on the second level of my landlord’s house. There really aren’t apartments here because families are huge and they all live together. Usually a father will build on another level to his house for his son to live in with his wife after he gets married. The married son in my landlord’s family just moved into a bigger house built in the backyard, so the top apartment was vacant and they agreed to rent it to me (rent: $50/month). It came with no furnishings, but with my $100 moving in allowance from the PC, I bought a lot of cleaning supplies, a used bed and wardrobe/cabinet and a green plastic picnic table with two green plastic chairs (very college dorm room-esque). Because I could only furnish one room, I use the others for exercise and to hang laundry in.
Independency and privacy are not really concepts that exist in the village culture in Jordan, but I was hoping my new living situation would afford me more of each than I had while living with my host family during training. However, no one lives alone here, especially young unmarried females, so establishing a strong connection with a family would be important for building a good reputation and getting introduced into the community. I was hoping I could develop a close relationship with my landlord’s family and that they would be friendlier than my last host family. Hoping for the best has worked out this time.
I am now the 8th daughter in a family of 3 sons (ages 19-27, 1 married), 7 daughters (ages 31-13, 3 are married), and 14 grandchildren (ages 4 months-10 years). The hospitality they showed me was overwhelming at first, expecting me to eat every meal with them and even sleep in their house, not in my apartment. But I have strategically tried to spend some time with them each day while still establishing my independence, and so far I have been able to do so without any major cultural faux pas or offending anyone—I think. The language barrier between us still limits the conversation but I enjoy visiting with them at night and there are always kids around to play with and help with their English homework. I know they still think some of the things I do are weird, but they are accepting of the differences which makes me feel much more comfortable to be myself and practice speaking Arabic.
I have been teaching English for just over a week and while I am happy to be in the familiar environment of a classroom, working in the school is another one of those situations where I have no idea what is going on 75% of the time. Luckily, the other English teachers can explain bits and pieces, but overall schools here are more disorganized and hierarchical than I am used to. The lack of resources and apathy of many teachers makes for a tough working environment when I am coming in with my idealistic hopes to have everyone in the village speaking and loving English by the end of my two years here. The only resources I am given are a terribly outdated government mandated textbook and curriculum and a chalkboard. The copy machine is only to be used for the semester exams. Paper, pens, markers and books must be bought on my own.
My village has around 5000 people, a post office and that’s about it—no grocery store, no fruit and vegetable stand, no shops or internet cafes. I try to make a weekly trip into the nearest city, Irbid (about an hour bus ride away) where I can buy groceries, go to the internet café and yes, I even found a “gym” at the sports stadium with a few treadmills—my only source of physical activity besides the push-ups and sit-ups I do in my room. I am in the far northwest corner of Jordan, about 10 km. from Syria and 30 km. from Israel/Palestine, but because Jordan is fairly small (about the size of Indiana) and has decent roads and busses, I can get into the capital of Amman in about 3 hours.
Though I am trying to establish a weekly routine, Ramadan begins in less than a week which I know greatly changes the pace of life here. Work hours and school hours are shortened as all Muslims fast during the day and feast at night. Because I am the only non-Muslim at my school and in my village, I plan to fast to show my respect for my community and understand the experience. People have already told me that they admire me when I have told them I plan to do this. I am a bit worried that they will want me to start covering my head and convert to Islam soon, too.
The experience is still filled with ups and downs of building relationships and feeling out of place. So far, no major disasters and though I am branching outside of my family slowly (I still haven’t even met the whole family yet!), everyday, I feel a little more comfortable here.
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