Friday, January 9, 2015

Frozen Body, Warm Heart.

If you happen to be a fan of John Stewart, you might know a film he shot in Amman, Jordan, Jordan’s capital, called Rosewater. When describing the filming, he mentioned that the people he met were aggressively hospitable. That they’re so nice and welcoming, you might feel uncomfortable with how receptive an atmosphere you’re in the moment you walk through their door. Usually in the States this sort of over-eagerness to please is observed through commercials or Snake Oil sales pitches, and the assumption that there’s an ulterior motive is something you quickly have to rid yourself of here. You realize here it’s authentic and, indeed, overwhelming.

It’s not the case in every country Peace Corps serves in, but in Jordan volunteers get their very own house. And while the Peace Corps does the work of finding you a place to live in for the next two years (along with a place to work and community to serve in—no small task for 35 individuals), they can’t guarantee that that house will be furnished with, well, anything. Some volunteers got even the kitchen sink. Others got a place with lots of…potential. But then it becomes a canvas. Yes, of course a hammock can go here. Why not buy a used back seat from a BMW and make it a couch over there? Now...that PC-issued mosquito net would give the bedroom a certain bohemian flair. And, finally, let’s put a face on that space heater: eyes here; mouth around the flame—it kind of looks like a dragon. There, that’s more like it.

So for the volunteers who have a house full of potential, this is the sort of thing we’ve been either bringing to life or playing with in our heads since we moved to site ten days ago. That’s not the only thing we’ve been doing, however. Some have been meeting with community members to plan clubs and camps for this freshly minted new year. Others have been shown off to their respective towns (Peace Corps urges us to champion the “Golden Trophy Monkey” affect we adorn as Americans). And some have even, believe it or not, made snow men with some of the snow the northern part of the country’s received. I bought a bike and Nutella. Sometimes it’s the small things.


(this is before the snowpocalypse...see below)

Obviously if we’re receiving snow, it’s pretty darn cold. Is the weather achieving a Michigan/Montana/Moscow-level cold? No. We’re looking at 20-degrees Fahrenheit, with maybe some small negatives registered of felt-temperature when it’s gusty. But one thing you’ll find ubiquitous in Michigan/Montana/Moscow that you won’t here: central heating. My house gets cold. We’re talking a see-your-breath-in-the-air, frost-on-the-inside-of-the-window type cold. The cold where you need to go to bed clothed for an arctic expedition. The cold that keeps you in under sheets, leaving only for the bathroom. The cold that threatens to redefine cold.

(worst snow storm the country's seen in a decade)

Thankfully Jordan’s place in the world makes winter a concentrated but brief affair, setting the stage for a summer that’ll make you forget cold even exists.

But for now, it’s summer that will never seem to come. Days are spent huddled around a space heater in the host family’s house, watching the news report everyone’s cold and huddled around a space heater. Conversation might revolve about your family in the states; maybe you’ll have to mention that you actually don’t have the power to grant Visas; or perhaps if the crew’s hungry, you might even learn how to cook a traditional meal or two. New words are learned, new connections established. Maybe maybe maybe, you, even after all your fancy hammock-hanging, bohemian-bed-making, house-personalizing achievements, will begin to confuse which house to call home. And perhaps it’ll take a whole year to figure it out. There are much worse thought-paths one could go down, though; at least you’re not thinking about the cold.