A Night of Jordanian Football

                I’ve never really been a huge soccer fan, or any sports type of fan for that matter, I always felt that professional sport games got in the way of practicing music or other means that were of more importance. In the recent years I have tried to be more balanced, do things I haven’t really done before that most people do, so when the opportunity came to go to a professional soccer game (or football called here in Jordan) I figured I should take the opportunity and go.

                There was word being spread about a football game, a competition for Jordan’s acceptance into the world cup. If they lost, they would be eliminated and the other team would move on, this team was Australia. My friend Keith and I gave some money to another BYU to buy our tickets in advance. When it got closer to the game, Keith and I decided to stay in our apartment to rest, do homework, and not deal with the hassle of a crazy international football game. Apparently there were roughly nine girls and four guys going which they were advised to have a 2:1 ration of guys to girls by their female Arabic teacher. We later received a phone call asking for Keith and I to come so there will be more guys, which we agreed. We took our own taxi to the stadium since the main group had already left.

           In our taxi we got stuck in traffic many times. When we got stuck in traffic along the street of the main gate, we had many Jordanian young men walking along side of the cars asking us, “Inta Australee? Inti maa Australia? Are you Australian? Are you with Australia?” Keith and I would respond with, “la, ihna maa Ilurdan. No, we are with Jordan.” The first two young men that asked us were so excited that we were with Jordan instead of Australia and called us their brothers. The rest of the young men didn’t believe us and continued their shouts for Jordan. Our taxi driver let us know that everyone will think we are Australian and that we should make sure we go to the Jordan gates into the stadium so we don’t get verbally abused or even physically abused. After many other young men coming to our taxi windows we were still stuck in traffic. A few times we would see groups of young men all of a sudden running fast towards us and away from the stadium. I later learned that that was because they were being chased off by Jordanian police with gas. Keith and I wanted to get out so we didn’t have to pay the taxi driver for his time. He told us not to get out until we got closer to the main gate. I thought it was for the fact of him getting more money for his time but I later learned it was really for our safety.

                We finally got close to the gate. Our taxi driver reminded us again to just go straight to the Jordan gates (versus the gate the Australian portion of the stands). We get out and quickly found ourselves in the middle of a chaotic situation with the crowds and police. These police stood in a line telling the young men to go away, I imagine threatening them with further gas, but I didn’t pay too much attention to what they were saying to them; I was focused on how to get inside the stadium and to find our group of BYU students. I walked through a hole in the line of police. One grabs me by the arm and begins to walk me towards the stadium with a gun in his other arm. I tell him that we have friends inside the stadium and need to get our tickets. He said we should go to the Australian side even though I confirmed to him we were with Jordan. We were escorted twice by the police to the Australian gate because this apparently was the best place for us to be. Our fellow BYU students were already stuck inside the stadium and were not able to give us our tickets. So Keith and I decide that we should just go home and miss the game because it was going to start fairly soon and certainly didn’t have any tickets to get in what already seemed to be an already sold out game. There were crowds at each Jordanian gate of young men, pushing and shoving to squeeze through the police at the opening gate but the police were doing the same back. Surely, we couldn’t get in that way and sit with our friends.

                Keith and I, with another last minute decision, decided to go back to the Australian gate and try our luck there. We were already there at the stadium; we might as well try to get in. It was very interesting because many Jordanian youth tried to get in on the Australian side, carrying Australian flags trying to convince the authorities there were with Australia. Keith and I told them our story of how we had tickets but couldn’t get them on the Jordanian side, the police told us they couldn’t help us but we waited to see what would happen. Later, a Jordanian woman (probably the only one I saw at the whole stadium) was in charge of helping the Australian tourists to get in. After hearing our story decided to let us into the stadium and to go quickly before others see that we got in without tickets.

Keith and I on the Australian side of the stadium.

                Inside the Australian side, we saw that our small portion of the stadium which was fenced off was not full at all. We saw proud shirtless Aussies doing cheers while the crowded Jordanian crowd rambled several Arabic cheers. We met a few friends on the inside; most of them were fellow Americans that are here studying Arabic that also got let in for free. Obviously the polices knew that this side of the stadium would be much safer. I began to worry a lot about our group that was stuck in the middle of the stands with Jordanians. We tried to call and text but most of the time, our phones didn’t work and if they did, we couldn’t hear each other because of the loud volume.

                I’ve never been to a professional soccer game, never been a fan, but I sure do recall of hearing crazy riots and attacks at soccer games, as well as that Arab young men can be notorious for sexually assaulting foreign women at these events. Jordan is winning with 2 points and Australia 0 points with only a quarter of the game left. I wanted to leave to avoid the riots and the attempted verbal or even physical attacks on us as being foreigners and on the opposing team. We tried to encourage the other BYU students to the same, but of course it was too loud for them to hear us and texting didn’t work. So we left, got a taxi fairly easy and then arrived home grateful to have avoided the later chaos.

Our view point from the fenced off area.
Straight ahead was where our other BYU group was located.

                Shortly after arriving home, I got a call from one of the girls from the main BYU group. I could hear loud sirens and “whooping” sounds from what sounded like an ambulance or police car. This girl called to see if we were still at the stadium at which I replied. I asked them if they were on their way home and she said they were in a police ambulance type of car. She said that the crowd got so crazy that they were bombarded by many of the young men that they sexually assaulted the girls as they tried to get out of the crowds. I later learned that one of the nine girls in the group strongly wanted to leave early like Keith and I did but the rest of the group wanted to stay to the end. Sadly, she was right to have wanted to leave. I continued to learn the greater details of what had happened and how some of the Jordanian young men created a line around the BYU girls so that others wouldn’t get to them, calling it “haram” or forbidden of what the other young men were doing. A few of the girls were devastated with what had happened while other girls just took it as part of the culture and were just fine with their sexual assaults.

                My heart goes out to those that were hurt physically and emotionally. I wish Keith and I could have been with them to help , I wish that the group was smarter in their actions. I wish that they had left early like Keith and I did but most of all I wish the girls that took the event light heartedly would be more sensitive to the girls that were highly disturbed by the night. Nothing ever gives men the right to sexually assault women, especially not a “culture.” They shouldn’t have gone even with the numbers of guys to girls that they had. They had to have known how crazy the crowds would be.  They surely were warned not only the day of the game that this would happen but also before they ever came to Jordan. Of course, being with BYU, we instated new rules regarding public events that there is 2:1 ratio of guys to girls.

                I think I am more concerned about all of this because I have personally tried my best to be with the girls from our program even if it is out of my way to make sure they aren’t bombarded by the infamous young Arab men, or what they are called as the “shabaab.” Now, a few weeks after the game, the girls that had the hardest time with it have expressed that it was hard for them to want to go out and talk on the streets as they should for school but that things are now getting better and were grateful for the young men that strived to protect them. 

Offence and Middle East Current Events

The atrocities of today’s assaults on the US embassies in Egypt and Libya are sad, scary and wrong.  Being currently in the Middle East, things are now not just an act on television that I will later talk about in a class the following day, but very real. Set aside political reactions and slanders, what can we learn from this event?

Libya's Embassy Attack
Egypt's Embassy Attack

Muslims at the US Embassy in Cairo

 

A film made by an Israeli-American in California was made known to the Islamic world in the last 48 hours. The film depicts the Islamic prophet Muhammad in offensive ways such as his multiple wives being taken in acts of adultery, the lies of the Qur’an and his ways of receiving revelation revolving around sex. This was not well received by the Muslims in Egypt and Libya.

The writer and director of this film obviously has an agenda to express his disagreements and hatred towards Islam. And there was no problem for him to post this online for the world to see. I believe he was wrong in doing so. But I also believe the Muslims that responded, responded because they chose to be offended.

Elder Bednar, of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles in the LDS church during a talk regarding him meeting with inactive members of the church stated:

 “Let me make sure I understand what has happened to you. Because someone at church offended you, you have not been blessed by the ordinance of the sacrament. You have withdrawn yourself from the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost. Because someone at church offended you, you have cut yourself off from priesthood ordinances and the holy temple. You have discontinued your opportunity to serve others and to learn and grow. And you are leaving barriers that will impede the spiritual progress of your children, your children’s children, and the generations that will follow.” Many times people would think for a moment and then respond: “I have never thought about it that way.”

 Regarding the Book of Mormon Broadway play:

“All hands on deck! There is an offensive play on Broadway about Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon! Let’s go tear down their advertisement and block the doors so no one can get in to see it! In fact, let’s take down the stage manager that had nothing to do with writing the play!”

That is not a response that most, if not all members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints had.  In an article regarding the church’s new ad campaign with the musical, it quoted one of the play writers:

"The official church response was something along the lines of, 'The Book of Mormon' the musical might entertain you for a night, but the Book of Mormon — the book as scripture — will change your life through Jesus," Stone said. "Which we actually completely agree with That's a cool, American response to a ribbing."Stone said that "before the church responded, a lot of people would ask us, 'Are you afraid of what the church would say?' And Trey and I were like, 'They're going to be cool.' And they were like, 'No, they're not. There are going to be protests.' And we were like, 'Nope, they're going to be cool.' We weren't surprised by the church's response. We had faith in them."

I wish more of our Muslim brothers and sisters would do something similar. And to point out the pros, this does in fact happen. CAIR, Council on American-Islamic Relations, quotes Nihad Awad, the national executive director, just a few hours ago:

"We urge that this ignorant attempt to provoke the religious feelings of Muslims in the Arabic-speaking world be ignored and that its extremist producers not be given the cheap publicity they so desperately seek. Those who created this trashy film do not represent the people of America or the Christian faith. The only proper response to intentional provocations such as this film is to redouble efforts to promote mutual understanding between faiths and to marginalize extremists of all stripes.
"We condemn the attack on the American embassy, which had nothing to do with the production of this intentionally inflammatory film."

The point is, we can’t stop all people that may offend us but we can stop ourselves from being offended. I am grateful for the culture that I have been raised with to not be offended by what they do. These Muslims today chose to be offended. I admire the rest of the Muslim world that was not offended and acted in similar manners. I, too, had a bishop that once could have offended but I chose not to be. I’ve had close friends attack my own faith but we remained friends, working out the differences, and are now deeper in our matters with of faith and friendship. It is sad that such acts happen.  We must do our best as not to arrogantly offend people, and if we do so ignorantly or on purpose, we should apologize and stand corrected.

Do I feel safe in Jordan, yes. Could it happen here, absolutely. Will I be careful and smart about where I go, yes.

I will end with another quote from Elder Bednar’s talk: 

"One of the greatest indicators of our own spiritual maturity is revealed in how we respond to the weaknesses, the inexperience, and the potentially offensive actions of others. A thing, an event, or an expression may be offensive, but you and I can choose not to be offended—and to say with Pahoran, “it mattereth not.”

Welcome to Jordan

                                                                                                                                                                

Ahlan Wasahlan

                “Welcome to Jordan” are the first words I heard when I arrived to the Queen Rania Airport in Amman, Jordan.  These words were said in English. It seems that everyone wants to welcome me to Jordan once they find out I am from America, even after two weeks. I imagine it will be like this the rest of my time here, a period of four months. After working with many Arabs in the United States, I have come to learn a different culture but a culture I felt was subdued by the Western Culture in which they were present in. These are the people I study for school and my impressions I felt were altered a little bit. Maybe the Arabs I met were accustomed to Western thought and experience has transformed them. I knew I had to get to the Middle East for myself to see what the Arab was like; in his atmosphere, in his realm, and in his own home.  Jordanians are interesting folk, if you can even use the term folk. They are loud, thoughtful, deceitful, kind, helpful, ambitious, talkative, deceived, and patient. Now not all Jordanians are each characteristic I just mentioned, not at all. I feel those characteristics I feel can describe almost any society in the world. For my first assignment of writing about the culture, I’d like to explain my first 24 hours, my first welcome from the country, and my first impression of finally being in the Arab world.

First views of Jordan

               Air France. Don’t ever fly with them. Their customer service while on the plane is fantastic but their luggage transfers are subpar. This was their second time losing my luggage in Paris in less than a week. While at the airport I had my friend’s cousin, Hashem Al Nasser, waiting for me. He waited patiently, without smoking a cigarette for one whole hour in the airport, as I got my luggage situation taken care of. Hashem Al Nasser and I first met on Facebook (Most Arabs love Facebook); we hadn’t met in person prior to the airport. I was impressed with his ability to be patient with my luggage situation. He then drove towards Amman. Along the road, I saw families huddled around a small tent and camp fire (it was at night), probably cooking something with meat. I asked Hashem if this is where they lived, he said no, it was their way of getting out of the city and enjoying time with their family. We then went to dilwar ilbalad, or downtown of Amman. It was crowded and so bright with lights. We went to his favorite restaurant, Hashem’s. No it wasn’t his favorite place because of the name; I quickly learned it was because of the pita and hummus that was served. Just thinking of it makes my mouth water. Then he drove us around the city, demanding that we see at least one of the hills. You see, Jordan is built on many hills (or mountains), much of the old city falls between these hills where the water would run down. Now the city is much bigger and each area has its name. We drove down Rainbow Street, which is supposed to be where most foreigners were. We didn’t get out of the car, simply drove through the rigged traffic in a maybe two lane road. As we slowly drove down this street, we saw many cafes and restaurants, many of them with hookahs—an instrument to smoke basically anything you put into it. We then saw many women that were outside of what the media typically shows, they were unveiled, immodestly dressed and plastered in makeup. These women were surprisingly looked more like Arabs than foreigners. This is where Hashem invited me to get a girlfriend. The Arabs I saw were fairly attractive, much more in person than I expected, but a girlfriend was not an option because I already had one. He let me and my friend, Keith, use his cell phone to call our mothers back in the United States. He dropped us off at our hotel; it was a grand first night. We were ecstatic to be in Jordan and had a great introduction. Thank you to a new friend in a foreign land.

View of Amman from Rainbow street

Sun Rise Hotel was very interesting. It apparently is the oldest hotel in Amman, which I am sure it is one of the older hotels in Amman. It was run down, but it did have wireless internet. I found myself going down to the lobby asking for the password for the wireless internet so I could contact family and find the address to the place we needed to be the next day. It was no sooner found myself sitting down with the foondook owner and his friend helping them find companies that insure the oil rigs in the Persian Gulf. They later told me they wanted to buy stock in these companies because they thought they will become very rich if they did. I thought to myself why would they get rich from them? But I didn’t let it bother me too much. They then noticed my iPhone and asked if I was going to get the iPhone 5. They asked if it was really see-through, or transparent. I laughed and said there is no way they would do that. They must have seen the same predictions/fake photos of the iPhone 5 I saw on the internet. They then started to speak to me in Arabic—about politics. They asked me if I liked Obama and Bush. They began to state how profoundly they hated Bush because of the wars which he brought to the Middle East all for oil. They stated they didn’t like Obama but they also didn’t like Romney. They muttered that he wasn’t even a Christian, that America should have an American president.  “Mormons, don’t believe in Christ,” one said. “Why would America ever have a non-believing Christian?” “He is a Mormon and must be magnuun (crazy).” Even though their words were filled with disgust about this topic, I looked at them with some excitement. I said, “Ana mormonee zay Romney (I am a Mormon like Romney). “  I explained to them that I believe in Jesus Christ. They questioned all different aspects of how I believed in Christ. They then seemed to have run out of complaints about Romney and the Mormons. I knew at least one of them was Muslim because I had to wait for him to finish praying before I could check in.

They then went back into the topic of stocks for the oil insurance companies. It finally bugged me enough to ask them why they wanted to invest in these companies.

“Because we will get rich.”

“Why?”

“Because Israel and America will be at war with Iran very soon.”

“Why would you want war?”

“So we can get rich, very very rich.”

“I hope they don’t go to war. In fact, I don’t think there will be a war at all.”

One stood up and said, “I hope there is a war! I want to be a rich man.”

                This logic made great sense. Hate President Bush for bringing wars to the Middle East, say it was for his own personal gain for oil, etc. but then want a war just so you can get rich off of stock from insurance companies that we weren’t even able to find for the last hour. I wish I had known better Arabic at this moment because my response of why there probably won’t be a war and how they shouldn’t want for a war didn’t seem to reach them.  I encouraged them to invest in Google, Macintosh, or something they use. They didn’t want to do that. I went back to the hotel room, told Keith about the conversation and then realized I had lost my iPhone.

Our Sun Rise Hotel room

                That next morning, I prayed I would find my iPhone. It was my future lifeline for Amman let alone worth hundreds of dollars. Shortly after taking a cold shower, I got a knock on the door; it was the owner of the foondook which I spoke with last night. He pulled something out of his pocket and asked, “Is this yours?” It was my iPhone! I could tell from the case it was in but now it was all scratched up. “Yes! It is mine, where did you get it?!” “Come, follow me,” he said. I followed him all the way down the stairs and into the street. He said, “Hunna (here) my son found it at 2am in the morning.” He pointed at a spot on the street near the curb. It must have fallen out of my pocket or my lap when I got out of Hashem's car the night before. He knew it was mine from the photos on the phone (I always knew it was good to not put a passcode on the iPhone!) and he made something very clear to me. He said, “Here at my hotel, I don’t lie or cheat. In America, someone would have taken it. Now write a good review of my hotel on the internet.” I nodded my head, said several thank you’s in Arabic and went back to my hotel room. Wow, what an amazing man and son for not taking my phone, a very expensive one, too. He was honest and wanted to get rich through a war, what a great introduction to Jordan! And a prayer answered most certainly. 

                Keith and I soon after took a taxi to our next meeting place, charged us four dinars (about $7) which should have really been half a dinar (about $1). Yep, ahlan wasahlan to Jordan.