So I went into town the other day after an exhausting day at work, hoping to find a fan and pick up enough vegetables to tide me over until I went to Amman for the weekend. It was hot out. I was dressed appropriately, so in spite of a slight breeze I couldn't feel it anywhere but on my face.
I should first admit that I am much more shy than I was in the States. Especially in front of men. I usually don't know how to respond if they acknowledge my presence - laughing is inappropriate, and being totally serious is just painfully out of character. So I just become mortifyingly warm in the face and look around and run away as fast as possible.
I should also admit that I am in desperate need of new shoes. They're hard to find here, I have bad feet, and am unwilling to pay half a month's stipend on new shoes (though after this episode I'm definitely going to dip into my American savings for them... and maybe a haircut =) ). My current shoes are slippery because the insoles are sticking through the soles...lol
So in summary, it was hot, I was embarrassed and loaded down with more produce than I'd planned, and there were 4 men who I sort of know but not really and I was wearing bad shoes. I was shuffling out of the produce tent to go get some canned goods when I slipped on the sand and slammed my (already bruised from rollerskating) knee against the concrete slab sidewalk.
All the men jumped up to ask if I was okay, to offer that I sit in their chair, to drive me home, etc. I bounced back up, more mortified than before in my dirt covered black pants, in utter pain, but warm hearted by their kind gestures. "3adi, 3adi" I said... It's normal, it's okay... One of them responded "La! Mush 3adi..." No it's not normal... Are you okay? Then I kinda took my leave shuffling up the hill toward the bakery for 3 days worth of bread.
On the way there it hit me... My knee was bleeding. You know how by the age of 7 you just know that feeling? You don't even really have to look down to see it... but you want to. You want to confirm that your senses aren't distorted and that you are in fact bleeding.
Well at this moment I realized that I couldn't confirm it. I wanted to. I really did. But pulling up my pant leg to see it would be the talk of the town long after I leave Shobak. This upset me more than the actual fall and the embarrassment and the fact that I was surrounded by men who made me uncomfortable and the heat... I couldn't even have the childish satisfaction of confirming my injury.
Admittedly in America I would probably be scoffed for pulling up my pant leg to see my knee, but it's a different feeling to be mocked than to be viewed as culturally and religiously inappropriate.
At the end of the day, the people who watched me fall didn't even snicker that I'd fallen, they were kind and generous, and in spite of my frustration of being paranoid about cultural appropriateness, that generosity and kindness to an awkward clumsy stranger is something I would never see in America to that extent and something that I really really respect and love about Jordanian culture.
I should first admit that I am much more shy than I was in the States. Especially in front of men. I usually don't know how to respond if they acknowledge my presence - laughing is inappropriate, and being totally serious is just painfully out of character. So I just become mortifyingly warm in the face and look around and run away as fast as possible.
I should also admit that I am in desperate need of new shoes. They're hard to find here, I have bad feet, and am unwilling to pay half a month's stipend on new shoes (though after this episode I'm definitely going to dip into my American savings for them... and maybe a haircut =) ). My current shoes are slippery because the insoles are sticking through the soles...lol
So in summary, it was hot, I was embarrassed and loaded down with more produce than I'd planned, and there were 4 men who I sort of know but not really and I was wearing bad shoes. I was shuffling out of the produce tent to go get some canned goods when I slipped on the sand and slammed my (already bruised from rollerskating) knee against the concrete slab sidewalk.
All the men jumped up to ask if I was okay, to offer that I sit in their chair, to drive me home, etc. I bounced back up, more mortified than before in my dirt covered black pants, in utter pain, but warm hearted by their kind gestures. "3adi, 3adi" I said... It's normal, it's okay... One of them responded "La! Mush 3adi..." No it's not normal... Are you okay? Then I kinda took my leave shuffling up the hill toward the bakery for 3 days worth of bread.
On the way there it hit me... My knee was bleeding. You know how by the age of 7 you just know that feeling? You don't even really have to look down to see it... but you want to. You want to confirm that your senses aren't distorted and that you are in fact bleeding.
Well at this moment I realized that I couldn't confirm it. I wanted to. I really did. But pulling up my pant leg to see it would be the talk of the town long after I leave Shobak. This upset me more than the actual fall and the embarrassment and the fact that I was surrounded by men who made me uncomfortable and the heat... I couldn't even have the childish satisfaction of confirming my injury.
Admittedly in America I would probably be scoffed for pulling up my pant leg to see my knee, but it's a different feeling to be mocked than to be viewed as culturally and religiously inappropriate.
At the end of the day, the people who watched me fall didn't even snicker that I'd fallen, they were kind and generous, and in spite of my frustration of being paranoid about cultural appropriateness, that generosity and kindness to an awkward clumsy stranger is something I would never see in America to that extent and something that I really really respect and love about Jordanian culture.
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