When the Second Volume of Kill Bill comes out you really should go see it.
03.04.2004 - 3:40 p.m.
My little face arrived in D.C. to for Peace Corps service two months ago today.
I'm very different than that day.
Nary you worry, I'm just as lovely. Maybe lovelier.
...
RECALL THE DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS FOR PRIVATE LOVING ONLY AND DO NOT QUOTE ME AS A REPRESENTATIVE OF THE PEACE CORPS. XOXO.
Waiting for a bus back to Madaba from Amman, this nice feller in aviator sunglasses comes up to me. His voice is smokey voice and he may be thirty years old. My child-like command of Arabic and some crude gestures were the mode of communication. The tone was obviously friendly and inquisitive, however.
His wondered what this American was doing in Jordan. I detailed the English teaching, training in Amman and soon relocating to the Wadi Musa area. In accordance with every conversation born in this land, it veered political.
"Osama ben Laden?" he said.
He was feeling for my opinion on the matter. I did the clucking of the tounge and raising of the eyebrows that is the body language for a soft "no" in Jordanian culture. This meant I did not favor the man. I asked if he liked him. He smiled and said yes.
I understand the man has his opinion. His context is a world away from mine so I don't get angry. Inside I sadden, but I keep on with conversation. This has its fruits.
We talked for another ten minutes of things casual and apolitical. His village lay on the opposite side of Madaba as mine did. He was going home after a day of work in Amman. A gas truck with his cousin drove by three times and he hollered and waved every time. Just the type of stuff that makes up a regular life.
After we boarded the bus he tapped me on his shoulder and invited me to dinner. He insisted I come sometime soon and he'd have magluba, my favorite dish, prepared. In Middle Eastern culture once you eat in a house with the owner you are considered family.
In a loose interpretation, I was invited to dine with a near stranger and be treated as his brother in his home. From the same man who ten minutes prior had looked me in the eye and said he liked Osama ben Laden.
No, it wasn't a terrorist's trap. By all I can read it was a sincere gesture of hospitality and friendship. I haven't gone yet and I don't know if I will. I may not have time to spare before I leave for site in two weeks.
I'm telling this story because it's an example of a larger irony. Many, many people in this country regard with a red fury the policies of my government, readily approving of what's bad for it. Yet many, many people in this country hold no special grudge for the American at the bus stop who smiles and shakes hands. Jordan is remarkable in that way.
But yes, it's a strange dichotomy. Osama sometimes is not regarded as a murderer, rather as a symbol of Arab strength. I know this to be incorrect. But what better way to attempt reconciliation than to eat in the home of another man?
I hope this makes sense. Don't get mad at me if it doesn't.
...
The biggest news of ever is the purchase of a three piece computer speaker system so's my little iPod shall be contained no more. You have no idea how big this is. Massive even.
"Trying to Find a Balance" was the inagural song. Go buy Seven's Travels, tart.
.......
Letzter Funf
In pursuit of brevity. - 20.07.2007
Re: Let's all watch a girl get beaten to death. - 14.07.2007
We're not getting there. - 14.07.2007
Somehow I lost all my Dropkick Murpheys. And this on the eve of my chowder va-ca-tion. - 02.07.2007
I need to write him a letter. - 21.04.2007
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