Journey to Jordan

I deliberately decided to put off writing this post for a couple of days until my thoughts cleared a little bit.  Things have been a little bit weird since coming home, not overwhelmingly so but weird nonetheless.

There are the usual things you might expect.  The United States is very different from Jordan, especially out here in Massachusetts.  Here are a few of the things about America that I’ve found the most shocking:

• American currency.  Pennies, quarters, nickels and dimes…they are so SMALL.  I’m afraid that they’ll slip right through my fingers!  The smallest Jordanian coin (five qirsh) is much larger and thicker than our quarter (the largest American coin).
• Flushing toilet paper down the toilet instead of putting it in the garbage can.  Every time I do this, I feel like I’m doing something wrong.
• New England foliage.  The first night I was here, I felt like I was in a jungle.  The cicadas were so loud, and everything is so green…trees, forests, it’s crazy.  What’s more, there’s actually rain out here, and the mosquitoes are out in force.
• Road construction.  It’s everywhere.  Parts of my hometown have been shut down by it, which seems really strange to me, because the roads aren’t any worse than the roads in Jordan.  Why can’t they just let it be?
• American refined foods.  They make me sick.  In some ways, the food here makes me sicker than the food in the Middle East, strangely enough.  I had digestive problems before coming to Jordan, and was really worried that they would get worse, but honestly, the whole time I was there I didn’t have any problems.  Immediately after getting back, however, and eating a few American meals, the same problems have come right back.  Middle Eastern foods are generally really healthy–home grown, unrefined, full of natural vitamins and fibers–and they are delicious. I look at American junk food right now and I have no desire to eat it.  What I would give for some Diwali, though…

Honestly, though, I don’t feel like I’m going through culture shock.  It’s like it was when I came back for Kate’s wedding.  Things are different, but familiar enough that I can slip right back in without too much trouble.

I do think of Jordan a lot, however.  I still use a lot of Arab body language, which confuses and/or amuses my Dad (I’ve been using the “be quiet and listen to me” hand gesture quite a bit).  Mostly, it’s the little things that get me to thinking about Jordan.  I’ll see something small, almost inconsequential, and say to myself “the Arabs in Jordan don’t do things that way.  They do it like this.” And then, more often than not, I say “I like their way better.”

I’d give an example, but I can’t think of anything specific.  Like I said, it’s the little, fleeting things that get to me.  Five minutes later, and I’ve already forgotten about it.

All these things are kind of weird to me.  But really, they aren’t that weird.  I was expecting them.  The thing I wasn’t expecting, however, was the way I’d react.

Those of you who know me know that I am NOT an apathetic person.  I hope that you’d also agree that I am NOT, by any stretch of the imagination, a flakey person.  Most of the time, I know what I want (or at least what feels like something I’d want), I’m passionate about it, and I’m out to get it.  If I say I’ll be there, I’ll be there.  Period.

That’s why my reaction is so strange.  These past couple of days, I’ve felt apathetic, listless, even a little bit melancholy.  I just haven’t been really excited about things.  In some ways, that’s good, because it’s easier for me to pick my battles.  Something annoying happens (like the fact that my Dad decided to have the floors refinished this week, so we couldn’t go upstairs and had to live out of the cellar), and I get frustrated but instead of fighting it and getting upset, I just swallow it and let it pass.

In other ways, it’s really not good.  In fact, I find it more than a little disturbing.  The strangest thing about this apathy is that it makes me really flakey.  The other day, my Dad took me out to see a movie, and it wasn’t until we showed up at the theater that I realized I didn’t want to watch a movie.  Nothing in the cinema excited me, so why should I waste my time watching one.  I told him “I don’t know, Pop–it’s your decision, but I don’t really want to see anything.” (we ended up leaving, but came back the next day and watched Wall-E; great movie!  I actually enjoyed it a lot).  When I was driving around by myself, I thought I wanted to go to Barnes & Nobles to hang out and read some books, but when I got there I realized that nothing there excited me, so after browsing the shelves listlessly for about half an hour, I left and went to the mall…realizing, once again, that I didn’t really have any desire to be there.

Weird.  I’ve never felt this way before.

I suppose that this strange state of mind/being is, on some level, a reaction to the shock of coming back to the US, but I don’t know how it works.  I was expecting something external, not something so deeply internal.

Then again, it might have less to do with leaving Jordan as a place and more to do with leaving all my friends behind–both my Arab friends and my BYU friends.  I’m alone out here.  The only person I know that I see every day is my Dad.  All the rest of my family is out in Utah, and most of my friends as well.  Without most of the people who mean a lot to me, there’s not much to do out here, and that, more than anything else, is a shock to me.

So now, in a weird twist, I’m starting to feel homesick for Utah, of all places.  Provo, that lovely little city that can be so frustratingly boring sometimes.  Utah Valley, the sheltered, overwhelmingly Mormon place that spawned the 3,500+ strong “in Utah, but not of Utah” facebook group.

Don’t get me wrong–I love Utah, and I love going to school in Provo.  It’s just that it’s something of a love-hate relationship.  When spring and summer come around, it’s perfectly natural to start saying “I want to freaking get out of Utah,” even for those like me for whom BYU was their first choice of school.  I know I was saying that back in April.  When you didn’t grow up there, nine months in Utah is too long.  Way too long.

But honestly, my favorite place is wherever my friends are.  That’s what I’ve figured out these last few days.  The place itself doesn’t really matter as much as the people.  And I miss the people–whether in Jordan or in Utah.  I’m looking forward to setting out on this road trip and finally getting back to Provo.  I can already tell that it’s going to feel good to be back.