Arab Neighbors

We have the nicest neighbors in the entire world.  They are called the Atmehs and have 4 sons living at home and two daughters who are off and married.  Being a neighbor in Jordan is much different than being a neighbor in the United States.  In the United States you likely know your neighbors name and maybe where they work.  Sometimes you have a good relationship with them, but rarely do you consider them your good friends and you usually only speak with them when you need them.  In America we prefer to pick our friends and stick to them, rather than being forced into relationships involved the location where we live.  Also, if you don’t see or have a meaningful conversation with your neighbor for a week, a month, or even longer it is no problem and we think nothing of it.  This relationship is completely different in Jordan.
In Jordan, relationships are everything.  With the Atmehs it started the day we all first moved into the apartment and immediately invited us over for food, shia (tea), and watching movies.  For the first few weeks we would go to their home 2-4 times a week and spend hours there.  I learned a lot about the culture, the Arabic language and just having fun.  Unfortunately this utopia could not last and soon their 16 year-old son Mahmoud was coming to our home every day.  He would barely be in the door and he would whisper in our ear, “Laptop” and “Internet.”  While on the internet he would watch videos on YouTube (very expensive when you’re paying for all data) and other things, and if we went out he would beg the person incessantly to buy him food and other things.  He was like any other 16 year-old slightly annoying and full of himself, but was also unaware of how many social lines he was crossing by constantly touching things that weren’t his.  He was a good kid, it was just ridiculous to have him come over everyday right when we would return from work and were very tired.  Eventually things came to a head and one of the interns kicked Mahmoud out of the apartment because he wasn’t listening and then we didn’t see the Atmehs very much after that even though they have helped us with everything including food, water problems, and good company.
  This week, however, I determined to go over to their home and ensure they knew I didn’t hate their family.  Austin came with me and we had a wonderful time talking to them.  They of course asked where we had been for so long and why we hadn’t seen them and then immediately asked us to have lunch with them the next day of chicken and potatoes.  Of course we agreed and the next day we had an amazing meal with them and a great conversation.  Like always, they told us that we were their sons and that we were welcome anytime.  On Friday, the holy day and all that, I was laying in my room when I heard the doorbell ring twice.  Usually this meant that Mahmoud was at the door and so I ignored it for a second but thought better of it and went to go check.  It was the Atmehs, but it wasn’t Ahmed.  It was their 24 year-old daughter, Ameera, from the United Arab Emirates.  She asked if she could use my computer and Internet to check her plane ticket, which I said ok too, and then they invited me in the home.
  Of course, once I was in the home I was there for a few hours and I really knew that I was accepted into the family for a number of reasons.  First of all, they allowed me to sit in the kitchen and talk to the mother and Ameera.   Secondly Ameera was in her pajamas and the mother was not in a hijab.  Thirdly I talked to them about personal subjects such as why they do or do not wear the hijab, marriage, tensions between religions and other things such as that.  It was amazing to be in such a familiar atmosphere and to once again experience a new cultural experience, this time what it is like to be part of an Arab family and experience the familiarity that is there.  Of course, they had to invite me for dinner so I hate an amazing meal (with both women, again something that is not allowed unless you are a member of the family) of meat and rice rolled up and cooked in grape leaves.  It was amazing and I joked with the mother that when I return next year she would have to teach my wife how to make some wonderful Jordanian dishes.
  Overall, it is an amazingly different experience to have Arab neighbors.  It is completely different than in America and at times can be extremely tiring.  However, it is also amazingly enjoyable at the same time because of the new experiences I have, the glorious home-cooked meals, and nice people who although we speak very little of the same language, I know care about me and would help me in any circumstance.