According to Babba Hassan, turtles and all sorts of critters wander into their house regularly, so I'm guessing its not an event to them, but it sure is to me at least for the time being :) A cousin shows up at the house to speak to Momma Aicha, ostensibly to share the gossip of the day I assume, and after he leaves the rest of the house begins to stir as Thamer and I were the first to wake of those left behind. I get dressed, snatch my mp3 player and book and chill, but a earth-shaking song starts and it inspires me to dance around the garden and explore. I try not to take notice of the strange looks my "family" are exchanging. It's not 20 minutes until I discover this morning's interloper hiding amongst the false flora on the patio and I bring him/or her to the threshold to present to the Khazaaleh's. Most smirk or chuckle, but Momma Aicha notices the turtle's fear reaction to being picked up and that my shoes are on while standing in her doorway and ushers me out, handing me a towel to clean up Crush's lil accident. Shadi told me that he wanted me to feel like a daughter in the family, and that being treated and spoken to as if I were is a good thing but I admit I was still a little stung at being addressed like his 12-year old brother. Perhaps I will get used to it, just as I am attempting to adapt to using the hole in the ground that serves as a toilet. Firdaus (my aforementioned kitten) notices the turtle and begins to bat madly at it. I'm laughing, but once again receiving similar facial expressions from said family. Shadi also assures me that my behavior is new to them on many levels (never having had a daughter, boys never having had a sister, and etc) and that they really do love me, they are simply needing to get used to me. This I understand. It is at this point that Shadi makes his surprise arrival (I was not expecting him till after Asr around 5pm) and I related my tale to him.
We woke having missed Asr, but instead of going straight to prayer Shadi critiques my clothing noting that my skirt when in prayer shows my ankles and a bit of my lower leg, and that this is not appropriate for praying. We spend a half hour arguing over scholarly opinions on the hadith regarding this subject until finally I relent simply due to feeling the heat of my hijab and wishing to take it off. At this point in my story today I think its fitting to explain the newest stress I am under, having shook off the stresses from my previous home. Ar-Ramtha is a small town in Jordan, and just like small towns in the US, they often breed small minds, or at least ones not accustomed to different behaviors or opinions. This town is fairly conservative, and not one woman currently living here is uncovered. I was/am determined not to misrepresent myself to its people and Shadi's family/tribe, and as I am not hijabi I intended to live that way, albeit dressing still more conservatively than in the States. Apparently, this is not enough nor acceptable to the people of Ramtha. Shadi and I had another half hour disagreement last night regarding my covering. He is not insisting I do permanently, only while in his hometown to which I have several misgivings. Firstly, if he is cool with me being uncovered in Amman, a town full of strangers, why is he not willing to present me to the people he knows best and thinks best of? Secondly, I want him to understand my unwillingness to pretend to be what I am not just to make people comfortable. Am I being selfish or is he? Needless to say we go for our nightly walk in the cool air sans headscarf, and it begins. The entire town comes alive at night when the weather is finest, and so Shadi and I walk resolutely by each and every member of the community determined not to notice the stares. No one says anything, but knowing Arabs as I do I'm certain its already all over town that I eschew the scarf. The reaction of his annoying neighbor that the entire family avoids confirms as much. Shadi says that of a pious family like his, people half expected him and his brothers to end up as Sheikhs (religious scholars/leaders) and that the eldest and most religious having married a non-hijabi revert is off the wall. Specifically, my lack of covering. That they will talk about them in a negative way, and that it is significant pressure on them. The man assured me before I agreed to marry him that he could take this type of pressure, just as I have made sacrifices to be here. He soon forgets the crowds and we wander, Shani (my fave Pepsi-made beverage in Jordan) in hand up to his family plot and olive orchard. From here we can see the entire town, all lit up for Ramadan. Children play soccer in the street. A wild cat wanders past us and meows a greeting. I manage to sit on 3 very sharp burs of wild burdock. I gotta get to know the flora/fauna of this state.
Upon return home, Momma Aicha serves me and Shadi's favorite treat, قطايف (qatayef; a tasty sweet and salty fried cheese treat), drink a Pepsi that tastes somewhat different here, and sleep directly after. Tonight's iftar was a meat over hummus, homemade fries with sumac, tamarind drink, and now قطايف once more. There are guests over, family members of Shadi's. We are required to sit with them for as long as they choose to stay, so now I must say goodnight and sign off. After they leave, Shadi and I will hunt down my elusive hookah and visit a lit-up Ferris Wheel in town. God I wish I had a camera!
Addendum: There is nothing more pleasant on this earth than sleeping outside in cool weather. I look forward to sleep more now than ever since I can do it on a roll out mattress on the Khazaaleh roof, under the tent they pitch every summer.
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