Taboo things

Living in the Middle East as a girl is very different from living in the States or any other westernized countries.

1) A lot of these Middle easterners have such a promiscuous idea of Westerners, and they think that the TV shows or movies from Hollywood depict our actual lives. Therefore, the males naturally have this curiosity for foreign females, especially when you say that you are from America. Therefore, it is more than important to show them that we are not like that.
2)  A lot of random vendors or taxi drivers will ask me if I have a husband, to which I respond "yes", to drop off the conversation. It just gets straight up weird if you tell them no. They think that by you not having a husband, or boyfriend, you are immediately attracted to them. It's just weird.
3) I am not allowed to smile at males. When I didn't know any better, I would just smile to be polite, and they were so happy. I realized that smiling means that you're attracted to them. whattheheck.
4) I am not allowed to touch my hair in front of males.
I orient my mouth in this special manner to blow the hair that falls in front of my face.

By the time I go back to the states, I might be this antisocial little freak who is super awkward in front of males .

On a happy note, you know what the cutest thing is?
When guys hold hands. No, they're not gay, but it's actually the cutest thing ever when you see two macho Arabs linking arms, or holding hands and walking. That's their way of showing closeness. SO CUTE ><

I'm still not used to the people kissing each other on their cheeks when they meet. You kiss multiple times on each cheek.. but that's too much kissing for me....

Update on how I am living

Hello~

I'm jumping all over the place with this blog thing- sharing some serious things, from just straight up ranting about my life. Conclusion- I don't know how to work this blog. Anyways, if you happen to be curious about what my living situation right now is, I will soon post pictures of my new home with my host family. 

I am living in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in Amman. (yupp! I lucked out big time), and I live right in front of a mall that freaking looks like a spaceship. My neighborhood looks somewhat like the rich Chicago suburbia, but I've gotta say... it's much MUCH better. It's got this Middle Eastern feel to it, with all the buildings being limestone and whatnot. 

My host family is wonderful- My family consist of host mom, host sister, and a house maid who lives with us. So it's an all girls house. 

I have the master bedroom, which is bigger than any of the rooms in the house. I also sleep in one of the biggest beds I've ever seen, fully accommodating my unique rolling sleeping habits. 

This is absolutely a huge shift from what I have been seeing for the first couple of weeks that I've been in Jordan. As much as I love my host family, I really do miss the closeness of families that I have met. 

What else can I rant about today...

So I officially started school this week! Yay! 

Anyways, since I don't want to pay the 2.5 JD that costs one way to get from home to my school, my housemate and I take the bus. I know that 2.5 JD may not seem much at first, but if you live here in Jordan, and understand that you get shwarma for .65 cents, as well as anything else for less than a JD, you will find that taxi cost to be obnoxious in the long term. We wake up at 6:00am, and get out of the house by 7:00am. We miraculously make our way to the bus stop, professionally dodging the crazy taxi drivers who have nothing better to do than to run you over. I have this native hitch-hiking pose that stops almost any bus that go past my way. We go to Mujama Swelieh, where we get on another bus that takes us to Jammea Urdonia (University of Jordan). Then, we walk up this hill to get to Princess Sumaya University, facing all kinds of internal tests and trials of whether or not we should get a cab up this hill or not. By this time (around 7:40 am) we have burned off all of our breakfast calories.  

That is my morning, and the rest of the day, I just live it.

On the weekends, I go see the Syrian kids who are absolutely ADORABLE and uncontrollably crazy. 

Seriously, these kids are wild. Even the moms who I've met.... they're pretty uncontrollable. 

Anyways, I've realized that you have just got to show them how genuine you are about loving them, and everything else comes naturally. 

Here's another thing that I deal with on a daily basis- racist remarks.

Call me "Chinese" or say "Nihao" to me in the states, and I should be ready to hurt you because of your ignorant racism (not to that extent). Or so the American ways have taught me. However, why are we, as Asians, so defensive about this in the first place? Because it's racist? But we are clearly Asian. What is the line between racism and plain observation? We clearly have small eyes, and put me right next to any other Asian girl, and anyone who have not been exposed to Asians won't be able to distinguish us apart, no matter how numerous our distinct features may be. 

It is true that it gets super annoying living in Jordan, having to hear "Nihao" everywhere you go, but if I place myself in their shoes, some of these people who say "Nihao" to me, genuinely want to say hello to me in what they perceive to be my native tongue. and how the heck would they know if I'm Japanese, Korean or Chinese? When I was a little kid back in Korea, I thought that getting in a "hello" to a white foreigner would be so cool. so how are these people any different? 

War zone in my vicinity

I live in a land affectionately called as "the heart of the Arabs". This is the land of the refugees, where people from Syria, Iraq, Palestine, and other countries mingle in with the pure Jordanians to create this interesting dynamic that I face on a daily basis.

I'm still in my honeymoon phase (even after three solid weeks of being here), where everything in Jordan is still fresh and instilled in my mind as a place where strongholds need to be broken. However, I am afraid for that time sooner or later, when it will be so easy to forget the whole purpose of me being here- to remind these lost souls of this one hope. A couple of times, I have caught myself going about my daily routine, being the same Soo that I was back in the states, turning my empathy on and off solely dependent on what I feel.

Jerusalem is two hours away from where I am, and Damascus, Syria is only three hours away. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict is so tangible in Jordan, and regarding the Syrian conflict-  I just met a Syrian refugee who fled Syria six months ago from the current situation. You may think that that might have been the highlight of my day, yet half the people that I meet on the streets are Syrians who are emotionally and physically distraught. So many people come to Jordan, remaining in their bystander mode, where war-zone is something that is real, yet not relevant enough to do anything about it. But then you ask- what can we do?

We can pray. If His words from James 5:16 is real, He will carry out His promise.