Mn Enta?

In Jordan, I stick out like the proverbial sore thumb.  I don’t think there’s been an individual in all of Amman who has mistaken me for anything but foreign.  Well, actually, that’s not true.  A car pulled up to me once just outside my apartment and asked directions to a nearby mall.  Not only did I comprehend the question, but I knew the answer and delivered it in colloquial Arabic.  I’m almost positive he heard my atrocious accent and disregarded my instructions immediately; I’ve never felt so flattered in my life.

A visual representation of my life on many levels.

But more frequently, I encounter the question: “Mn enta?”  To which, I of course, reply: “Ana Amrikee!”

 

And then, I get the review.  Jordanian opinion is a lot like American opinion when it comes to our government: one-in-three people actually know anything about it, but everyone has an opinion.  In Amman, people have extremely polarized views, but most see it as the Promised Land, thanks to Hollywood and our multi-billion dollar advertising industry.  The biggest complaint Jordanians have with America is its inaccessibility, whether due to financial or diplomatic reasons.  Once my friend Jarvis misunderstood a cab driver’s question, and accidentally confirmed that the three passengers worked at the American Embassy.  For an uncomfortable ten minute drive, we were heckled for not providing him a visa.  In the end he continued his tantrum in Englibic (that special language half-way between mine and his) until we awkwardly paid, and departed.

I mentioned earlier that most don’t really know their subject matter.  Another friend had an encounter with a Jordanian very critical of America.  He cited reasons that danced the line between offensive and hysterically funny in their ignorance.  George Washington and his famous Trail of Tears.  9-11 as an inside job.  The best we can do, as Americans abroad, is sketch an accurate picture of our culture as we try and absorb theirs.

 

American History 101

At the same time, there are Jordanians who probably know more about certain aspects of America than I do.  Specifically, I’m thinking of two teachers I have: Dr. Anas Altikriti and Dr. Omar Rafai.  Dr. Altikriti is a former president of the Muslim Association of Britain and has founded his own think tank, named the Cordoba Foundation.  Dr. Rafai is an alumnus of Harvard, Oxford, and Georgetown as well as the former Jordanian ambassador to Israel and member of the diplomatic team that drew up the first Jordanian-Israeli peace agreement in 1994.  They are both brilliant men, who I am honored to know.

My respect for them is what makes it difficult to accept their stories of arraignment in American airports (if memory serves, both had at least one experience in JFK).  They were detained from three to six hours based on their appearance, nationality, and passports.  TSA members demanded Dr. Rafai share credit card information to allow them to track his location during his stay.  Of course Dr. Rafai refused, offering to take the return flight to Jordan, but security eventually conceded the absurd request.

This picture is irrelevant.

As a somewhat-educated American, I’m outraged, discouraged, and most of all embarrassed to hear stories like this.  I understand the sociopolitical situation that has permitted this kind of prejudice to dictate policy, but how can I approve?  Ignorance births fear.  I get it.  And as an American in the Middle East experiencing a very different culture, even for the second time, there are still holes in my knowledge that my imagination fills with dark things.  I do not understand every part of your average Jordanian’s life: their religion, values, or behavior.  And sometimes that is a bit scary.  But that fear is not carte blanche for the same kind of suspicion that birthed the Inquisition and imprisoned Mr. Miyagi’s wife.  Mistrust is not the solution.  Policies founded in that only treat the symptoms of fear, helping us to sleep at night.  As cliché as it is, knowledge is what can alleviate the ignorance, and truly banish our fear.  But even in the absence of knowledge, we should demonstrate the personal courage to contain our fear, and resist attacking the liberty of another human, nationality, or religion, even if that attack generates some kind of perceived protection at their persecution.

That was my rant.  No, I don’t expect my readership includes any big-wig bureaucrat who can put an end to racial profiling, but I hope that we all just consider how we evaluate the worth of people we know and people we don’t.  How much more important is our family than our neighbor?  How much more important is an American than a Jordanian?  There’s a different between the “right” answer and the truth.

Finally, I’ll leave you with two pieces of advice when speaking Arabic.  Whenever describing something as “different,” make sure you’ve studied the word well.  Swap one letter in mukhtlif and you might just tell an Egyptian that his culture is not different, but retarded.  Also, the word for bathroom is a lot like pigeon, and pigeon is not an uncommon Middle Eastern dish.  If you ask for the bathroom, and your waiter writes something down, you probably just ordered the pigeon.