A Night with Women from the Greek Orthodox Church

An  experienced that happened in early November of 2012 in Amman, Jordan:  

               The Christian world in the Middle East has continued to be a foreign subject to me regarding my studies and exposure. After last week’s experience with the Coptic Church, I was able to see a church setting much differently than my own and come to the conclusion that there were some similarities between the Islam and Christianity in how sacred some things are. People’s mentality towards things can be similar but in the Middle East it seems that strong practicing Muslim and Christian women’s mentalities are very different.

                Turns out a group of BYU students have been going to the Greek Orthodox, Church of Our Lady, on a weekly basis to their week night Sunday school type of class, maybe more equivalent to an LDS institute class. They would go to practice their Arabic and learn more about the Christian culture. This particular night no one could go but one of the BYU girls. She couldn’t go alone so she invited me to head on out. It also was supposed to be their Halloween party. We show up to the church and quickly notice it is not a Halloween party (lucky I just used my scarf from Scotland as my costume) and rather a normal class similar to the class I went to at the Coptic church but there seemed to be many more people and the father was speaking into a microphone so that everyone could hear him. My friend Sally and I sat near the back after she looked for her friends but to no avail, she couldn’t find them.

               

                The sermon was about a huge array of topics. Some of the topics included doing good unto others and following the example of Christ. You could tell that everyone appreciated the Father very much because each time someone spoke with a comment or a question they would express gratitude for the Father. The chairs that Sally and I sat in were almost like thrones, a large wooden chair with arm rests. Turns out instead of pews, each chair was like this with not too much room between you and the chair in front of you. When the sermon was done, Lucy’s two women friends found her and began talking to her. Lucy introduced me to them and they seemed to cling to me as close as they could without touching me. While sitting in my throne like chair, they stood right in front of me so I couldn’t stand up or leave if I wanted to. In the Middle East, I have learned to keep a large bubble around me when it came to women, I would not allow them to get near me and me near them. This bubble that I have spent two months building was popped and I couldn’t do anything about it. I almost felt physically violated because their legs were right next to mine and I couldn’t do anything about it. They continued to stand in front of me as they talked to others around them. And to my dismay, the Father showed up and wanted to greet me. I wanted to meet him and speak with him but not in this setting. So I lifted my hand up over the person sitting next to me and we shook hands from a far distance. I was surprised he didn’t mention anything to the women and their distance next to my legs. I finally had to ask them to move so I could get up.

               

                These two women then wanted to invite Lucy and I out to coffee and tea at a restaurant type of setting. Lucy and I agreed but it seemed to take about 40 minutes to finally leave the church because the two women, including my friend Lucy were busy talking to people of both gender, hugging and farewell kissing non-stop. Lucy and I rode with one of the girls to this more modern café house. The two women were more free in there dress, shoulders were showing, lower cut shirts and they let their hair hang loose. This is again the opposite of the conservative Muslims that I have met, they reminded me a lot of normal American women with their appearance. I do not feel that these women were the type that you would consider “loose” but were at more liberty to dress the way they wanted and to speak with who they wanted. During our discussion at the café while they drank their coffee and Lucy and I our shakes, they both vocally mentioned they wanted to marry American men. I wasn’t sure that was a hint or not to me but it sure they liked how American men are more forward in wanting to date and having a relationship than Arab men are. They were fairly attractive women in their mid-30’s and seemed to love to gossip. Shortly after getting our drinks, another group of Lucy’s friends showed up and these two women kept to themselves. I was able to hear their speaking topics which were about the other girl’s clothes, how she was still single, and how she wore glasses. Honestly, I think they were jealousy of her because the other girl that just joined us, though maybe not as pretty as the other two girls, she seemed to be much more confident and happy. After a long two hours in this café we finally left without getting a ride from the one that gave Lucy and I a ride back so we took a taxi.

                This was a whole new perspective to women in a different social setting. I have met a good handful of Christian women from Jordan, most of them were Greek Orthodox, and they all seem to be fairly independent women. These two women seemed to be the rare of the rare in their interactions with me. I am not offended or upset, almost rather more amused by their interactions because they were so different than what I had expected to be the case. Though they may have been on the extreme side it was a good picture of the difference between a conservative Muslim woman and a Christian woman. The Christian women are more open in what they want to say, they dress more freely and don’t seem to have the pressure to get married or date like that Muslims do, or so it seems from this situation. 

Taxi Drivers In Amman

                I’ve been in Jordan for over a month now. It hasn't been until I got to Amman that I took my first taxi. Growing up in the area as to which taxis were only for those that seemed to be only for business travelers or people that had not much money but used it as a way to get around when they absolutely needed it.  Taxis have always seemed very foreign to me so coming to Amman it’s been a real cultural experience.  Not so much the crazy driving, but more so the type of people that drive these taxis.

                My first experience in Amman dealt my friend Keith and I’s first morning in Amman. We were in a hotel for the night and getting ready to meet with our professor at the school which we would be attending. The hotel’s son recommended that we take a bus but we wanted a quick and direct way to the place. We must have seemed like a “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign because literally four taxis lined up along the street waiting for us to choose one of them. We started talking to the first taxi driver in line, he spoke English fairly well, while we were talking to them, two of the three other taxi drivers got out of their car and started talking to the taxi driver we were speaking to. Their conversation was in all Arabic and I had no clue what they were saying. It seemed like they were chatting simply to catch up with one another. They ended with the other two walking away upset at our driver. Reluctantly, it seemed we were stuck with this taxi driver as the other three taxis left.  He agreed to do the drive for three dinar, we knew we could pay it for less but we just wanted to get to where we were going. We didn't know there were meters, thought that maybe we were just paying a little bit extra, we later learned that if we were going off of the meter, it would have only cost a little over one dinar. One other aspect about taxis in Amman is that you need to tell them the general area that you want to go to. In this case, we didn’t know anything except that it was south of University of Jordan and on Queen Rania Street. Most Jordanians, especially taxi drivers do not know street names. So this didn’t help too much. Luckily, we knew the street number and the taxi driver asked other drivers through his window while we were in traffic where Queen Rania Street was, miraculously we found it.

                In taxis, if there are girls, they sit in the back seat. If it is girls and one guy, the guy sits in the front seat. This is cultural with the Islamic state that we live in. Women don’t talk to men in public. So later in our first week, we as a BYU group were heading to downtown Amman to get some delicious Hashem’s hummus. I went with a roommate and two other girls and I sat in the front street because I knew what to tell the taxi driver since I had been there before. What I didn’t know at that point is that you don’t take set prices; you always go with the meter. This taxi driver wanted three dinars and knowing that it was much farther than Keith and I’s distance from the hotel to our school, I figured it was reasonable. He was a big burly man, spoke English fairly well and had a sense of humor because he just laughed at all my Arabic attempts. He was pretty rude and didn’t seem to like us. We finally get to Hashem’s where I hand him a ten dinar bill, he puts it in his little stash on his side of the car and says goodbye. I am stunned, he just took my ten dinars without giving me change. I told him that we agreed to three dinars, he then says ok. He reaches into his stash, grabs a one dinar bill and hands it to me.  I had learned from a roommate that was in Jordan the summer beforehand that you needed to be stern with taxi drivers. So I sat in the charge telling him that he agreed to three dinars. He sat with a sly smirk on his face and didn’t seem to want to budge because he kept saying thank you and good bye. The girls and my roommate in the back seat didn’t know what to do. I encouraged them to get out and then I got out.  Before I got out, I told him that he was a very bad man (in my broken Arabic) and he laughed and said that he knew he was.

                I learned a few lessons about taxis thus far. Always have them restart the meter when you get into the car. Always have exact change for the payment. Never agree to a set amount. Don’t forget to talk to them and loosen them up, sometimes this will get them to be more kind to you.

                I have had many great experiences with taxi drivers. In fact, the taxi is where I feel most comfortable to practice my Arabic with. We had one that I remember understanding everything he was talking about and he seemed to understand me the whole time, it was a great feeling. Another older taxi driver was listening to older Arabic music, he began to dance with his arms held out in the air as if they were floating, turning his hands at his wrists like they belonged in a jet stream and his fingers rolled along. He then encouraged us to dance like him, mostly my roommate who was in the front seat. When we did it, he thought it was the greatest thing. Taxi drivers love to smoke (like most Jordanians), it was a little weird at first, but with the windows down and going as fast as they tend to do, it’s not a problem with the smoke and smell. Ironically, my first cigarette ever offered to me was here in Jordan while in a taxi. It seems to be the acceptable offer here.

                My roommates have a very different schedule than I do so they often get to the school before me. Because we live somewhat close and I need to save money, I walk to campus. Only twice have I needed to take a taxi on my own to get to campus in time of a class or a students’ appointment that I needed to record.  I get a taxi and proceed to tell them Mukhtar Mall (this is right next to our school, everyone seems to know where this little mall is located). We begin to talk, and I inquire about their family, work, and what they want to do in the future. To my surprise, when it comes time to drop me off, they offer the drive for free! Free!! Can you imagine that? Each ride is about a dinar’s worth and they offered it to me. I don’t want to risk my luck but it seemed to be a good thing when I take the taxi on my own.

                Taxis are great, they are fairly cheap and I feel most comfortable to practice my Arabic with the drivers. Maybe it’s because they can’t get away from me but they seem to enjoy it. It seems to be a lower end job, probably right above that of what the Egyptians get around here which is the dirty trash and service type of jobs. In short, be smart about the taxi you take, don’t let them cheat you out and talk about their lives and likely you’ll enjoy your experience with them.