In flying towards Jordan, I thought about what I most wanted to see. My thoughts went back ten years to when Connie and I lived in northern Syria for a year while teaching at an international school in Aleppo, Syria. I realized that I didn’t want to see anything in particular, but I wanted to hear Jordan. I wanted to hear the sounds of another culture.
There is a reason people talk about cultural immersion. When living in another culture, you are surrounded by a different set of sounds, smells, sights, foods and experiences. We swim through our own culture without even realizing that Monday isn’t necessarily the beginning of the school and work week for all people. We don’t even think about so many things from colors (red, white and blue or pink and blue) to wearing pants instead of robes. In visiting Jordan we are jumping into another culture, we are swimming through a different set of cultural sounds, sights, smells and expectations. We are cultural swimmers! In swimming through another culture I have a chance to look at my own culture and life.
Ten years ago, Connie and I lived next to a mosque, and we heard the call to prayer every morning and evening for ten months. On the plane flight to Jordan, I realized that I was looking forward to the call to prayer, and to the other sounds of Islam from people talking in Arabic to the honking of car horns. This morning a confident, sonorous voice announced the beginning of the day—just before 5 a.m. The sound of crickets through the night was unexpected, the nighttime sound of a braying donkey was an unexpected treat, but the morning call to prayer was an announcement of where I am right now. I am in Jordan, and for the next three weeks I can expect to hear the call to prayer five times a day. It is a daily reminder that I am a cultural swimmer…
I was looking forward to the sounds of Islam, and I have also been rewarded with so many other senses. Soon after arriving yesterday we stopped in a bakery for our breakfast bread. Right next to the bakery is a place where chickens are sold. I was greeted by the smell of fresh bread and the smell of a half dozen or more chickens combining together…I can’t even articulate what caged chickens and fresh bread smells like, but it feels like goodness and happiness. A place where I can buy bread made with a date filling and also a place where there are fresh eggs and chicken.
Another very real surprise was a feeling that I have been to the Amman airport, even though I have never been to the Amman airport. I was reminded of the powerful Jordanian film—Captain Abu Raed. I almost thought that I could see the tired Abu Raed waiting outside of the building to be picked up by a small bus to go home. I am so thankful that I have been able to visit so much of the world through stories—and visual stories (movies) in particular. It has allowed me to visit places that I have never physically visited, and yet I have a feeling for them through well told stories.
We left our homes at 4 am Seattle time on Friday morning and arrived in Amman at about 5 pm on Saturday Jordan time. In between we were in the air for about 16 hours with a half day interlude in Chicago.
