The Month of Nothing: How series of unfortunate events led to an unintentional Jordanian vacation


Like a typical American, I arrived in Jordan well ahead of the semester because I wanted to be prepared. I wanted to get used to the time difference, learn my way around, get my classes scheduled, buy my textbooks, and get every other detail out of the way so that I was entirely organized for my first day of school. Unfortunately, my detail-oriented, anal-retentive, always-on-time attitude was the  complete antithesis of the Jordanian mindset. In Jordan, people are confident that things will work themselves out. Absolutely everything is “no problem, don’t worry about it.” Time is relative here, and if something like a bus route or a class actually happens to have a schedule the only thing you can be sure of is that it will not actually operate according to that schedule.

A few days after my arrival in Jordan, I got a phone call telling me that the start day of my semester had been postponed by weeks. This, combined with my early arrival, lead me to the Month of Nothing- where I was alone in a city without classes, friends, or an inkling of the local language. As the clichéd overachieving student, this was probably the first time I could remember where I wasn’t running between sports and extracurriculars and work and friends and so on. I had been prepared to work hard learning Arabic, studying for my engineering classes, staying late on campus for clubs and sports- but had unintentionally given myself the most complete vacation I could have imagined.

So, I studied Arabic anyway. I made flash cards and sat on the patio of my host family’s house memorizing words that all sounded exactly the same to me.

What I learned: Arabic is hard. Trying to teach yourself Arabic is stupid.

However, I did learn things out of necessity faster than I would have in school. In my earlier days of French class I remember learning things like how to say colors and the months of the year and the names of the rivers in France, and none of those things actually helped me when I visited Paris in high school. Once in Jordan, I had to learn things like ‘right,’ ‘left’ and ‘straight’ or I would never have been able to direct a taxi driver. I had to learn ‘please,’ ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry’ very fast or risk coming across as a total jerk. And I wouldn’t have gotten very far if I couldn’t read Arabic numbers, which are different than ours.

Another thing I did was join a gym. As a workout junkie, I was pretty concerned that I wouldn’t be able to exercise in Jordan since I didn’t think a blonde girl running around the block every day in spandex would be appreciated. The gym I joined was called Fitness1 and it was massive, even bigger than the YMCA back home, however it was segregated into a male half and a female half. When I started I was quite affronted- I had to check-in at the ‘female’ desk and head towards the ‘female’ half- it was my first experience with true segregation after all, and I was not going to pretend to me happy about it.

However, when I got into my half of the gym I immediately liked it. The first floor was an enormous pool, sauna, hot tub, rock wall and locker room. The second floor was tons of cardio machines and three rooms of different fitness classes, and the third floor had weight machines and dozens of female fitness instructors walking around helping people. The idea of being separated from the men still seems crude to me (and probably always will), but I actually felt more comfortable. The attitude once inside the female gym was much more relaxed than any gym I had ever been in before. Additionally, it was interesting to see all the conservative women walking around in swimsuits and spandex.

What I learned: Working out is universally awesome, even in a society that is completely different.

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