Thursday Badia Journal

I know, I know, this is over a week late. Sorry for being slow, and enjoy! I'll post the others in a day or so so you don't have to read it all at once. Also, the Badia is Jordan's desert area; my homestay was in the north, three km from Syria.

Turkish toilets are fun. Just sayin'.

Anyway, to describe the house proper.

One major similarity to Amman houses is the parlor, an extra-nice sitting room just for guests—also extra-large, maybe twice the size of the living room. The family in both cases spends a lot of time in the living room, where the heater and TV are. There’s a curtain in my Badia house that can be drawn across the hall to separate the parlor from the rest of the house; in my Amman house it’s a short hallway and a door. The parlor can be to hold guests (more informal visits the living room works), or in the case of large parties of guests, the parlor holds the men and the women and children are in the living room.

One major difference is that in Amman chairs and couches are used; in the Badia there are long cushions on the floor with similarly-made low backs and matching cushions on the joints between pads. The floor is covered by a large carpet, and there’s a wood stove in the middle with a flue up to the ceiling. The carpet is kept very clean—vacuumed or brushed or swept several times a day. (Yes, three different ways to clean it.)

For meals, a round tablecloth is brought in and everyone sits around it. Food is pita that you eat with: hummus, cream cheese, jam, olive oil (the tree’s in the back yard), zatar, scrambled eggs, and other dishes, like kufta (meatballs and tomatoes). Sides can be olives, tomatoes, cucumber, ramen, falafel, yogurt (goats out back), or yeast bread. You may or may not have a drink; if you do, it’s likely tea, or water from a communal cup. You eat with the pita or your hands, but there’ll be a fork each for ramen, or a spoon for yogurt or salad—again, served in communal bowls.
At bedtime, the seats are an easy conversion to beds; this also explains the ceiling-high pile of blankets in the master/guest bedroom. The oldest daughter and I slept in the parlor; the rest in the living room. It felt a bit like a sleepover, with everyone on the floor, one or two sleeping already, the light off, and everyone around the heater watching the last of a TV show.

Out back of the house is a garden—veggies, herbs, and flowers—and the animal pen. There are five goats and six kids, and several chickens and a rooster mixed in. The sheep are in a separate pen behind the wall, and I think may be someone else’s. Most of the neighbors are family; either way, when you go outside, you put on shoes and hijab. Shoes are not worn in the house because relaxing and meals are so close to the floor.

The father of the family is in the army, stationed in the UAE. He’s been gone two years and returns in two months, if I deciphered the Arabic right. He called Thursday night and said in mixed Arabic and English that I was now his sixth daughter and he hoped I’d be happy with his family.

And yup: five daughters, one son. The daughters are 20, 15, 12, 8, and 5, if I recall correctly, and the son is 14. He’s just at the age his voice is cracking, and the oldest daughter just got her Tawjihi results (the Tawjihi is a huge test deciding whether or not you can get into college, and which college and studying what). They’ve decided to call me Reem, meaning doe, but it keeps reminding me of Reem Shawarmas, a restaurant stall on Third Circle.

The oldest daughter is the only one who prays five times a day; she puts on a homemade skirt and chador over her clothes and prays in the hallway. [updated: Umm prays too, but she didn’t over the weekend.] She also wore the same when reading from the Quran.

Later, when I was reading the book Mom and Dad got me when I learned to read, I ended up going through the pictures and telling the youngest and some of the others the stories in Arabic (with help). The oldest knew some of them. We also pointed out animals, as the youngest had been practicing animals ABCs.

It’s a lot less busy here, and more low-key. That can turn boring; it can also be peaceful. It allows for a fair amount of family and social time, so overall I like it more than I might’ve expected.