Badia Journal, continued

Friday Journal
We slept from about 10pm to 7:30-8am, then got up and restored the sleeping room to the living rom. I did my hair up in a braided bun, and the same for the youngest girl; right after, we had breakfast. From there, cleaning. I did some dusting, then went to write.

After mansaf for lunch—quite zakee, and they were more insistent on second rounds than my family in Amman (I’m betting because my Amman family has more expeience with American girls’ eating habits and just goes with it)—I went with Krista and her family to see the Roman ruins, ecological center, and water cisterns. I think. Maybe some sort of quarry that they kept runoff water in. The ruins included a chu rch and a grave, as well as a large number of less easily identified buildings. I was surprised at the way people had just built into the ruins in places, and at how much litter there was.

Later in the day my family gave me a mug and pincushion for hijab pins. I had a lot of fun tickling the little girl, too. After dark, I put on hijab and Umm put on a niqab—it could be worn to cover the face or not—and we went to visit a friend. I think most people there were related but I’m not completely sure how for some of them. Umm covered her face when any older man was in the room; at home, she only covers with hijab for visitors.

As I’m guessing was previously agreed upon, up to and including the specific pattern, one of Umm’s friends did henna designs on my hands and afterwards painted my nails. One of the older little girls got similar, too. I talked a bit in Arabic—at least answered questions—and showed off my hair color and braid when there were no guys in the room. We walked back, watched some Arab Idol, and went to bed.

Saturday Journal
Saturday morning was a combination of cleaning and homework. In the early afternoon, Wijdan, Rizan, and I went to visit a friend. We had tea and talked for a bit; then something happened and we moved from the parlor to the living room and our hostess disappeared. She returned with another of Wijdan’s friends, and we talked for another while and ate some oranges. One thing they asked me, like the woman the night before, was how Chris tians pra yed. I wasn’t sure how to answer; as a Prot estant, prayer is almost informal, and rarely scripted. I just said I talked to Him.

After we returned home and had lunch, a paternal aunt and children visited; soon after came Krista with her father. More tea, two rounds.

From there Umm and I went to Krista’s house. More tea, and later sweetened hot milk with a little coffee in it. (The joke around here is that Arabic tea—especially Bedouin tea—is sugar with a little tea, and sometimes mint or sage.) They offered dinner, so I ate there. Neither mother ate, only the younger people.

The people in the Badia are pretty good about Arabic-only and encouraging me to speak. They also know to slow things down for me or repeat them with simpler words. Problem is, I’m not always sure what to talk about when they tell me to speak.
I think children here are communal; it’s not uncommon for large broods to mix, or people to in-house babysit for relatives or neighbors. Perhaps the only way to be sure without asking directly is to watch who gets breastfed by whom, and that only works if they haven’t been weaned.

When we got home, we ate dinner again—but again, Umm didn’t eat; I started to think she was sick. She had a cough from the smoking at the other house.

Sunday Journal
Umm pra yed this morning, and later on through the day—same as Wijdan with wearing the skirt and chador, except she lays out a pra yer rug in the living room instead of the hall. Pra ying here, for women at least, tends to mean heading off to a side room or corner of the room and quietly pra ying while everyone else goes on with what they’re doing.

Most everyone in the family woke up at 6something for school; once they were gone, the rest of us went back to sleep for an hour or so, then got up, cleaned a bit, and had breakfast.

Thinking about it, I get the feeling my family’s decently well-off, mostly based on furnishings. Our living room cushions fit the room well, have backs, and aren’t too worn; they’ve got a lot of cushion left in them. We also have a carpet in the living room, not just mats, and the room is a good size. Of the three houses I’ve been to, our living room is equal to or better than the others’ parlors.

One interesting TV show I think takes place in Turkish times, about the Uthman Sultan and his harem. Lots and lots of pretty dresses! Another I dubbed with my own dialogue, with three+ pregnancies in all ages and both genders, and an organ harvesting scheme. A third I think is solely about customers hitting on a pretty girl who works in retail. Beyond that, Curious George in Arabic, a kid’s show about things like sharing where the main character is a sheep, and various melodramatic soap operas and lots of commercials. Comercials are approximately Western in product and theme, but have a large amount of traditional clothing and hijab. Plus ads for hair removal for your arms.

Sunday was a pretty low-key day; after school, most of it was spent in family time and homework. I helped one of the girls with her English homework—British English. The books were in Arabic; private schools in the city tend towards educating fully in English. A neighbor friend visited in the evening, and we had fun talking and taking pictures. She had one picture with her hijab off for herself, but everything other picture, especially mine, had hijab—because if I showed them to family or friends, a man might be among them.

All in all, my stay in the Badia was quite an interesting experience. There were a lot of cultural similarities, from similar food to similar urging of more food; the house layout was similar, as was the hospitality. One of the largest differences in the Badia, though, was the pace. Though most of the family had school on Sunday, that was the only real rush to meet any sort of deadline or appointment. Time was spent without a completely firm schedule, and entertainment was socializing with guests and family—all in all, a fairly leisurely pace, and generally more traditional.