I Hate Americans

Well, that's kind of an overstatement. I think Trevor's pretty cool, and there's this one missionary in Southern California I kind of like. Oh yeah, and there's Joe, Sarah, Dot, mom, and pop...and Cindy, and Emily, and Greg, and and and and and....

Maybe it's just these Americans? I don't know. I don't hate them specifically, in fact, sitting with almost any of them by themselves is fine. It's just the group.

It's more like, the situation in general.

What was by far the most awkward dinner conversation I have ever had started with the topic of Iraq. The idea was presented that our troops are doing a great job and Iraqis love us. I ventured to speak, thinking my time having to be in a situation where my job was to listen WA BAS (ONLY) had been served. I talked about how from the Arabs I have talked to, most of them tend to feel that Saddam was better for Iraq because at least under him there was as strong central government, not utter chaos and calamity.

I wasn't even making a statement of my own political views, just reporting what I had heard, and suddenly the table seemed to collapse in, "I think that's an over generalization," and, "Jimmy Carter this, Jimmy Carter that," and, "Saddam was responsible for the deaths of over 2 million." I didn't want a political argument, and the way it happened, I was the only one supporting my argument, which was that many to most Arabs currently prefer Saddam's iron fist to "American-born anarchy and civil war".

That argument isn't even that radical. It's an argument of who thinks what, not what is what. I still don't know what I think about this, exactly - but I know what other people told me.

Disgustingly huge houses, huge meals, no love - I can't even tell you.

Wrong Number

Yesterday, or the day before yesterday, I received a strange phone call during class.

It was an international phone call, but with 964 as the country code. Later, with the help of the internet, I discovered it to be the country code of IRAQ.

Just to see if my Jordanian family was up on their Arab country codes, I asked them which country they thought it was.

"Kuwait."
"No, that's not Kuwait. It's got to be Oman."
"Where's the phone book?"

(By phone book, you must realize, it was a notebook with phone numbers hand written inside, not a standard government-issued book like you would find in the States or France. Just like there is no public postal system...or phone system...democratic countries seem to take more interest in public sectors of their countries.)

"It's Iraq."

The irony of an Iraqi making a wrong number to one of the handful of Americans in Jordan makes me laugh out loud.