Anyway, everyone has been asking me what the reaction to the election was in our area. Many people that I spoke with were overwhelmingly supportive of Obama, but only because they really want to see a change in the foreign policy in Iraq. Not everyone necessarily wants a pull-out, but they are ready for a change.

One of my friends had lunch with us on November 4. He told us that the waiting room of the Embassy was full with people (American citizens living in Jordan) trying to cast last minute emergency ballots. The funniest thing was that many of these people haven’t lived in the states for 20 years or more; so on the ballot, when asked what county in the state in which they were registered they were supposed to vote in, many did not have any idea how to respond. However when asked what candidate they wanted, there was a rousing rendition of “Obama” and when asked what party they were affiliated with, they responded the same.

I’ve also heard many stories and seen articles in the papers that many in this region are so excited about the president-elect that they have renamed their stores “the Obama _____” (fill in the blank with bakery, milk farm, shawerma stand); they have approached us on the streets, asking if we are as excited about the new president. Now, there are some things that I can’t really explain to them — such as why the president comes into power on the 20th of January, and not right away, and why the electoral college is so important.

But the best response I had to the election was from one of the locally employed staff at the Embassy. Let me first preface this by saying that I work with some of the most fantastic Jordanian women. They are intelligent and incredibly kind, and I love hearing their views on everything. Anyway, the woman I am thinking of and I are always working together and have had many in-depth conversations about the election. On Nov. 5, when we had woken up to the news of our new president, I happened to stop by her office and she said this to me:

“You know, I am excited about Obama, but its so much more than that. How lucky is it that you live in a country that would let the people elect a man, who is not only black, but also who’s middle name is ‘Hussein’. It shows just how powerful democracy can be, and because of that, I cried when I saw Obama had won.”

I was just in awe of her after she said this. We all cried a little, but mostly for the history of it all. Knowing our child will be born in a time where Americans have elected the first African American president, when for the first time in 8 years we finally have hope for the country…….its all very exciting. But to be crying over the power of the freedom we take for granted……..well it really made me realize why I am here. Why we are here.

Saudi goats sell for thousands at beauty contest

My favorite quote:

“Last November a leading authority of Saudi Arabia’s hardline school of Islam comdemned camel beauty contests as evil, saying those involved should seek repentance in God.”

Those poor camel beauty queens. Now what are they going to do for their livelihood?

The only problem was that I didn’t account for the fact that I’m fat. And not just any kind of fat, I’m pregnant! I’m brewing a human being, and while that all sounds exciting, I can’t get over how fat my face is. It’s round……pudgy…….just plain rotund. Every picture taken of Indy and his wench left me with this terrible feeling that my big round face was taking up a majority of the picture.

When I was 18 and had my wisdom teeth removed, I unwillingly had my picture taken between my two friends. When the photo was developed, I couldn’t get over how much of the picture my face took up. It was like my cheeks were attacking my friends, taking over their faces and pushing them farther and farther out of frame. It was horribly embarrasing, and I believe I threw away the evidence.

But I’ve got 7-8 months of evidence in front of me. My face will probably get fatter, so I believe I will be avoiding cameras from now on. At least ones that focus on the upper half of my body.

On a lighter note, the people of Embassy Amman certainly know how to put together a costume. Amidst the sea of Arab-dressed, there were a few standouts at the numerous Halloween drunk-fests we attended this weekend:

1) The 6′10″ guy who came dressed as a flagpole, complete with gold helmet with an eagle on top, and attached regulation American flag.

2) Guys who came as sumo wrestlers (in blow up sumo costumes) and whose wives came as their geisha counterparts

3) Our friend Kate, who came as sexy Dorothy

4) A Michael Phelps, although the portrayer was way too short and way too white

5) And last but not least, a “troubled mother” with babies attached to every limb and a face mask. My fat face can relate to that one.

We were very adamant that we wanted no middle eastern food while we were home. It’s not that we don’t like it or were tired of it, rather, we didn’t want to have to go from having authentic cuisine to the badly americanized version. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Athenos hummous when it was the only kind I could get. But after dining on homemade hummous, with meat and without, I just couldn’t go back to the refrigerated variety.

So, our first stop when we got back to Jordan was a traditional restaurant in the heart of Downtown Amman, “Al Quds”. For Dinner Club Dining Out, a few of us trekked down to al balad for a taste of Jordan.

Al Quds restaurant is famous for its Mansaf, the national dish of Jordan made of lamb and rice and a special yogurt sauce called jameed. (On a side note, jameed is sold in dried lumps in the store, and the location where the jameed was made is very important. Apparently, jameed from Karak is highly sought after.) So, we had the mansaf, with appetizers of hummous with meat, muttabil, chicken livers, kufta with tomato sauce and mixed olives.

Mansaf is usually eaten with the hands, where you take the meat and rice and sticky yogurt and roll it all into edible balls. Fortunately, this was gourmet mansaf, in individual servings, and we could eat it with a fork!

Overall the food was excellent. The lamb was tender, the rice was nice, and the jameed was…….interesting. It was unlike any other thing I had tasted, however, it still added a lot to the dish. The hummous was great, the muttabil was ok, the kufta was a bit dissapointing. The chicken livers were great and the olives were just spicy enough. It was a fun experience, and definitely a restaurant I would go to again.

What a welcome back to Jordan! After the jet lag and the re-entry adjustment, it was nice to have an authentic meal with good friends. An experience that’s hard to beat.

Now, I understand that the European culture is much more free-thinking than American culture, but there are limits. At least Bubba and I think so. Here is a list of the best (or worst in our opinion) things we saw while hanging out on Israel’s beaches:

1. Naked babies - We don’t know what it is with naked babies. I can understand having a naked little baby, not wanting to waste a diaper or whatnot. But we saw 4 and 5 year old kids, running naked everywhere! Ok, there are bathing suits for that age, c’mon. There is no seemingly reasonable explanation as to why a 4 or 5 year old isn’t wearing a bathing suit. I remember going to Marshalls for the annual bathing suit buy when I was that age. It’s just gross.

2. Beach tennis - The Israelis play a game of beach “tennis” that they call Matkot. You use a wooden paddle and hit a squash ball back and forth. If you go out on the beach at any given time, the water line will be filled with players standing back to back in games of Matkot. You just can’t escape the “thok thok” sound as seasoned pros slam the ball at their opponents. You even see young boys learning the game and practicing their arm motions with their game-crazed fathers. But the worst part of  is that you can’t walk along the water down the beach without taking your life into your own hands. I didn’t actually see anyone get beaned by the fast-moving balls, but I was pretty sure if it was going to happen to anyone, it was going to happen to me.

3. Fat Guys in Loose Speedos - Again, showing off man parts on a family beach does not seem like our idea of a good time. So many men wore Speedos, which are understandably a European tradition. However, most men, especially those with more body to love, wore loose-fitting speedos, meaning any slight movement of the body also meant the visible movement of other things…….things that I don’t really want to see on wrinkly men with beer guts.

4. The Old Guy in a Thong - There was an older gentlemen entering the water before us. Bubba commented, “Oh, if that guy was younger, he would totally look like your dad.” Then we saw the thong. And for the rest of the time swimming, I could only think of the fact that he looked like Dad and was wearing a thong. EEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWW.

5. Guys Swimming in Underwear - Ok, don’t you know that if you wear cotton briefs into the water, they will become see-through and form-fitting? Even you, man with the old-man’s saggy butt? Double EEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWW.

6. Fat Ladies in Bikinis - I’m sorry, but if you are chunky, don’t wear a bikini. It’s nasty. I’m aware that I dont look good showing off my stomach, so you should be aware of that too. Please, they make bathing suits that flatter any body type. Why don’t you pick up one of those?

7. The Ice Cream Gaucho - There were many men dressed in ponchos and large sombreros carrying ice cream boxes on their shoulders and ringing bells. I understand the need for ice cream, I just don’t understand the need for ice cream from a guy with a giant sombrero. In Israel.

8. Dumb Homeless Men - Hey you, yeah you. Homeless man. You live in Israel! Begging to a Jewish guy and then asking him if he is German is really bad business practice. What’s even worse is telling him you like Germans because of their military prowess. C’mon, are you sure you really want the money? Because you just lost a customer.

Israel is a really fantastic country and Tel Aviv is a great city. But, I think the European influence may have rubbed off just a tad too much! Let’s hear it for more clothed women and bathing trunks for men in 2009!

Therefore, when people want to invite me for dinner (i.e. free food I don’t have to cook), I jump on it immediately! This led me to my very first Ramadan Iftar with my friends, the guards at the back gate. For those of you who aren’t familiar, Ramadan is the Muslim holy month, where Muslims fast from everything (food, water, cigarettes) during daylight hours. The first meal of the day, held after sunset is called “iftar”, from the word “futoor” which means breakfast. 

This iftar was fairly mundane, happening in the control room at the back gate. The guard contractor provides meals for all the guys, however, many of them bring them special dishes from home. So, provided we had chicken halves bbqed on a bed of french fries and bedouin bread. Abu Jad brought in kufta in tomatoes + rice, which was awesome. And Amiina prepared a fatoush (bread salad) that featured pomegranate seeds. It was fantastic!

It was really very fun to watch the guys chow down after not having eaten. They are very used to eating without utensils, often using bread and their fingers to create spoons or forks. It was impressive to see them tearing into the chicken. Ever try to eat a leg of chicken using bread to pry off the meat? Its a talent.

The wedding was of one of the guards, Muna, to her second husband, Saleh. The party itself took place near a refugee camp between Amman and Zarqa, in a very small wedding hall built above several closed storefronts. There was a tunnel that cars could pass through leading into a small parking lot/courtyard. I was originally told that this area would not be safe, but we decided to brave it anyway, and with the full assurances of our guard company, we never felt unsafe the whole time we were there.

The wedding started with the very loud procession of the cars carrying the bride/groom and family. The bride and groom were driving a fancy convertible, adorned with flowers on the back and front. They must have set off the alarm system because the burglar alarm was honking madly and the lights were flashing. Once they drove into the tunnel, the noise from the car honking and the drum band and bugler were intense. The cars drove into the courtyard and parked around the back of a small decorated gazebo. The drummers and bugler kept playing, singing songs that one of our party, Fathi, told me meant good tidings that the marriage would be long and fruitful. At one point, I swear they broke in to Hark the Herald Angels Sing, but it might have just been my imagination.

The couple stepped into the gazebo, where they stood for a good 15 minutes while people took pictures and sang, danced and ululated. They also shot fireworks off behind one of the parked cars and lit sparklers, which was spectacular but also made me feel a bit like I might spontaneously combust next to all of the ignitable substances. The bride looked beautiful, totally unlike what she looks like at work, but absolutely amazing nonetheless. She was not smiling, however, and my companion Fathi told me it might be related to the fact that she had been married before, yet her new husband seemed to be penalizing her for her not being a virgin. I found this unfortunate, but it is quite common in this area.

After they stood in the gazebo, they processed slowly to the hall, where there were several small tables. The crew from the Embassy commandeered a table right next to the roped-off catwalk that had been created on the floor with rosepetals serving as the red carpet. The ropes were made of yellow scarves and each anchor had yet another sparkler on it. The bride and groom walked down the walkway with the sparklers blazing to the dance floor. Muna sat in a chair while her new husband circled her head with an urn of incense. Then they switched seats and did the same thing. Then they walked up to the stage, where two chairs were laid out like thrones.

The music began and they started their first dance. Fathi said it was modern music (i.e. not good in his eyes) and was probably due to Muna’s love of hip-hop music! In any case, they danced, and then a guy with a large circular piece of fabric came dancing around them. It was very similar in appearance to a whirling dervish, twisting in and out and around of the couple. Then, a guy dressed in a black horse costume rode in and circled the couple. My arabic teacher said that the symbolism of the black horse relates back to medieval times, when knights would ride in and the man would have to defend the woman. Very interesting.

The rest of the wedding was very normal. Dancing, cake, soda, etc. There is no actual food at a wedding, just cake. The men did a dance simlar to the “hora” that we do at weddings, called the debkah. Some of the guards, who are usually very reserved when I see them at work, had footwork that was to die for! They were jumping SO high, it was unbelievable.

I am glad that I got to experience this, as it is a rare one for me, since Bubba doesn’t work directly with Jordanians, so it very hard for us to get these opportunities. They don’t take pictures very often in this culture, so I didn’t bring my camera. But I will remember this experience always.

Aqaba is not really the resort town that it believes itself to be. There isn’t much of a coastline, and even the private beaches of the two fanciest hotels are mere slivers of beach. Apparently, the beach at the Royal Dive Club is nice, and is where one of the spouses spent the day, sipping margaritas. The skyline is nice too……with hotels and houses dotting the coastline, with giant rock mountains in the background. The Gulf of Aqaba is so small, you can even see the Israeli town of Eilat across the water.

In fact, one of the guys on the ship (there were other people besides our small party) was a diving instructor from Eilat who made the unfortunate decision to go diving in his tighty-whiteys. Yeah, it was gross. And see-through. BLECH.

So, we got on the boat with our friends Tom, Kate and Frank. Kate and Frank were certifying, Tom was just along for the ride, and Scott was simply doing fun dives to get his log book full. I sat on the boat, listening to music, swimming in the ocean and trying not to get too overheated in the baking 120 degree weather. Tom was a little bored, as was I, so I probably won’t choose this option again should I choose to go with Bubba to Aqaba. I will probably choose the beach-margarita path.

After a full day of diving, we went back to our budget but very nice hotel, and got ready for dinner. The restaurant we chose was the Floka Seafood Restaurant, right on the main drag. It was decent……at least probably the freshest seafood you can get in Jordan. They even had a fish display where you could choose your fish. But the best part of the evening was when a guy riding a camel came walking down the SIDEWALK right by our dinner table, asking if anyone wanted a ride. It was a nice looking camel, but he could have used the street for pete’s sake!

The next morning, the worn out and bored spouses rode home while the divers went on a few more dives. They got to look inside a ship that was purposefully sunk off the coast to create more reef. They seemed to have a good time, and I definitely had a tired Bubba on my hands when he got home.

The worst part is that I seem to have contracted some sort of upper respiratory infection. Probably from the dehydration and heat…….or maybe from the Israeli in the tighty-whiteys. Who knows.

Last weekend, dinner club went out for dinner instead of cooking. Accompanied by the lead staffer of Obama’s campaign, we went to Al Milh Wa Zad restaurant, an Iraqi restaurant in the Um Uthaina neighborhood. The restaurant’s name literally means “the salt and the food,” which, according to my arabic teacher, is a phrase that is said when one wants to express the goodness and bounty of one’s food. And the food sure was bountiful!

We went to this restaurant specifically for a dish called Masgouf, a bbqed/roasted fish, that is flattened and cooked vertically from the fire. It is a true delicacy of Iraq, as many Iraqis are used to eating Masgouf direct from the Tigris River, while sitting near the banks enjoying the evening with family and friends. We were told that these Masgouf did not come from the Tigris, which is good since currently the Tigris is a victim of the spoils of war.

The restaurant is set back at the end of a strip mall. The front porch features a small wooden bridge over two pools of fish swimming around, waiting to be caught for dinner. One, in an apparent attempt at freedom, had flung himself up on the pavement and was slowly hyperventilating to his death right as we walked in. It was quite a sight to see our dinner trying to swim his way to the parking lot. Fortunately, we were able to send some of our men to pick out the fish we would eat, and they happened to pick the fish with a bit less of a freedom-complex.

The dinner started with hoobz (bread, similar to pita), hummous, baba ghanouj, and some interesting yogurt and spice salads. There were 12 of us, so we ordered 6 masgouf, one for every 2 people. Wow, was this a mistake. Masgouf is usually made out of carp, also fish of the infamous gefilte variety, which is a very large fish to  begin with. Each fish was 2 kilos each, a kilo a piece! Usual preparation for the fish is to split it down the middle, remove any crazy organs,  and then serve it completely opened on a large platter. The server removes the spine at the table, and voila, masgouf. We had a hard time finishing 12 kilos of fish!

Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. The masgouf was good; it tasted like fried chicken. But I was a little dissapointed that it was just fish. There was no tasty sauce or rice or veggies to make it taste any different.

All in all, our first “Dinner Club Eats Out” was a success. Hopefully there will be more tasty stories to come.

Last Wednesday, I played in “Opera Under The Stars,” a concert by the Amman Symphony Orchestra and the Choir of Holy Spirit University in Lebanon. It took place at the Roman Ampitheater in downtown, an amazing setting for this event. The choir brought 3 soloists, who each sang an aria and then completed the concert with the trio from La Traviata. We got more “bravo’s” and applause then we have ever gotten for a concert. Considering we only rehearsed for 3 days prior to the concert, it was quite a feat!

But no concert is without its interesting moments. Here is my list of highlights:

• Stupid Kids –the concert started late because an entire busload of kids had to make their way up the steep Roman Ampitheater stairs, rather noisily. The teachers weren’t even trying to keep them orderly, just letting them run rampant. What is it with Arab culture and disciplining your children? Come on, a quick swat now and then will not hurt anything. But it might teach them to be respectful.
• The Wind – As is always the case when performing in an outdoor venue, there are elements that are beyond your control. Such as an easterly breeze. It wouldn’t have been such a problem because they provided us with large rubber bands (that looked like giant scrunchies) and pairs of clothespins. Great idea, except for the procedures to turn the page. First, remove the clothespins. Then take the music out from the scrunchie, then turn the page, put it back in the scrunchie and then reattach the clothespins. Imagine trying to do that in the span of one 4-beat measure of music. Once, there was such a large gust of wind that even the scrunchies couldn’t hold the pages……and there was a snowstorm of music and frantic musicians as they tried to collect it all. And this was in the middle of a piece!
• The random clapping — Apparently not everyone read the feature about me in the Dardashah. C’mon don’t clap in the middle of the piece. At least wait until we are finished.
• Flashdance – Can I just say that the Lebanese youth love the 80’s? If you could see the big hair that made its appearance in the choir, as Mario put it “It’s like Flashdance!” We were just looking for the legwarmers…….

For all the good things that happened, there was one bad thing. After the concert, 4 of the choristers and their bus driver were shot in an apparent criminal act. It did bring a damper to the evening and we are all hoping that the chorus members are ok. What a way to end such an otherwise fantastic evening.