Richness

I am in Los Altos, California, for my best friend's wedding. This is one of the wealthiest parts of the country. You know, Silicon Valley..."Do You Know The Way To San Jose doo doo doo DOO doo doo dodododooo dodo dooo..."

It's difficult for me to explain what exactly is going on inside of my head.

I bought the happy soon-to-be-wed couple a microwave. I felt really good about that present.

It's like my life in Jordan was a dream. Maybe it will become more real when I get back to Massachusetts. Maybe it's just this transitory state here. Maybe it really was a dream. Maybe Irbid and Sharia Cinema and Ayhem Abu A-Sha'ar never really existed. It just seems so impossible that I could be all the way over here buying my best friend a microwave, when two weeks ago I was taking down the laundry from where it was drying on the line outside, while my 13 year old Arabic brother stood by with Hammadeh, his friend, to be sure nothing bad happened while I was outside by myself. That I walked through five different airports in the last week (Queen Aliya, Charles de Gaulle, John F. Kennedy, Bradley, Chicago Midway, San Jose...okay so six!), by myself - yet two weeks ago there was a boy who came to my house and asked for my hand in marriage...what?

Fuse blowage.

My Groom

In Jordanian Culture, there isn't such a thing as "dating" or "hanging out". So, what happens when two people love each other and eventually decide to get married? I discovered today, in what turned out to be the most hilarious cultural experience I have had so far.

I was not expecting to experience this while in Jordan, but apparently the neighbor's son saw me walking twice, and he liked what he saw. He went to my Arabic mom to ask for my hand.

The funniest part about this experience is that it was totally serious.

My Arabic mom told me that boys are like fish, you have to go to the fish-hawker (what the heck is that called in English?) and look at lots of them before you buy them; you don't go straight to the ocean to get them. So, she convinced me that it would be a good idea for him to come and drink some coffee with us, and talk about this subject. Of course, she had already invited him and his mother to come; his mother being one of her close friends, that I have sat with many times.

It was hilarious. He came, and I was actually really surprised because he was handsome. What!? This situation was supposed to turn out easy, but...

So then, we were all sitting there. My arabic mom, the mom of our neighbor, the mom of my groom, my arabic sister Alaa, and my groom. He got right to the point, and said that he saw me twice, I pleased him, and he wants to marry me. So what's my opinion?

Without blushing.

So, without blushing, I tried to get out of this situation without being impolite. It was super difficult because, as you know, I am from a totally different culture, and NOBODY helped me! I went into the other room because one of my arabic sisters was calling me. I begged from them words, what should I say! How can I be polite? How can I solve this problem! They didn't help me because, "It's your choice, ente horr, you're free!"

What an experience. I went back to the room and started to explain to him that I decided a long time ago that I have to marry a "Christian-Mormon". He tried to explain to me, that in his opinion, religion isn't a problem in marriage. You can marry somebody from a different religion, it's not a problem for the children, and if I want to marry him, I would be free to believe whatever I want to believe.

If I were to marry a muslim, it would not be some random stranger, but somebody whose mind and soul I match. Sigh. But mind, soul, heart - those things don't come close to faith. I had to break up with somebody I truly love because of an impossible future. Malek, ya Malek...
So then my Arabic sister called me again from inside, and I went, begged again how to get out of this situation! Again, they didn't help me.

In the end, I said, "I'll think about it," and gave him my email. I guess he and my Arabic brother are taking me to the airport tomorrow, what?!?!?!? We - well, not me, being the non-coffee drinking good mormon girl that I am - drank coffee. Then, I said, "I'm sorry, I don't know how to tell you this in a polite way, but since this is the last night with my Arabic sisters, I want to spend some time with them, and go inside with them. I don't want to be impolite..." "No, no, I will leave now, but I will see you tomorrow!"

Aughghghghghg.

I can tell you now, from PERSONAL EXPERIENCE, that Arabic women are powerful. As I sat there, with this decision before me, I felt the most amazing feeling ever. THIS CHOICE WAS COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY MINE.

On a totally different note, tomorrow I am leaving! What?!?!?!??!?!

Thoughts about Marriage

I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I am Mormon. I was born, raised, and decided of my own free will that I believe in this faith. I know that Jesus Christ is the son of God, and that he died for me. I know that, even though there are many good people on the earth with many good and righteous ideas, there is ONE complete gospel of Jesus Christ, meaning there can only be one completely true church. I know that this the gospel was restored to the earth in the latter days by the Prophet Joseph Smith. I have the full and complete gospel, and it is true.

The gospel teaches us who we are, and the plan God has for our lives here on earth. From the scriptures, I can learn what I need to do in order to return to Him someday. I need to have faith in Jesus Christ, keep the commandments which have been given to us by all of the prophets including those of our modern days, and I need to continually pray and repent.

I want to marry for love, but love is not enough. When I put my hands together, the space all the way to the left from infinity onwards is the premortal existence, and the space all the way from to the right from infinity onwards is the life after I die, but the space between them is the time here on earth. What I do in this life will determine what I will be able to do in the life to come. Marriage for love is just not good enough.

I have to be able to marry somebody who can be with me in the eternities. I have to be sealed to my husband for time and all eternity, which is an ordinance that can only take place inside the Holy Temple. I can't marry somebody just because I love them; it would be better for me to never marry anybody than to marry somebody outside the temple.

Besides that, the man who I marry will be the father of my children. I want to raise my children the way my parents raised me, knowing about Joseph Smith, and the Book of Mormon, and the Restored Gospel. If I were to marry outside of my faith, religion would always be a conflict in my home. It is not only something I do not desire, but something that is just completely intolerable for me. Imagine always being against the one person who is supposed to be my supporter, my protector, and my friend? It cannot be.

I don't know what the plan for me is with Arabic. I don't know why I study it, why it interests me, or how it will help me in my future life. I do know that I am not here to find a husband, especially one outside of my faith.

I have a testimony of eternal marriage. I'm not exactly sure why I felt so strongly about writing this - maybe mixed feelings about dating somebody outside my faith, maybe mostly because this feeling is new and important to me. I mean, it's one thing to always be raised with these ideas, and quite another to KNOW them for myself.

Blog Goals

I have kept a fairly consistent journal throughout my life. In 3rd grade, my journal went something like this, “January 9. James looked at me today. I love him so much.” “January 10. I wonder what it would be like if James and I got married.” “January 11. Since James’ name is James Chipello the Third, would I be Kate Chipello the Third if I married him?”

I don’t want this blog to be a, “Hey, I went to Pella today. It was cool. I have to go”-type journal. How boring. I want people to actually find what I have to say interesting and useful. That, combined with the way internet usage works here (I don’t have a wireless connection – I have to save my posts/photos to a USB drive), and the realization that I could be a really fantastic writer/photojournalist has helped me develop the following goals for my blog:

1. Not be boring.
2. Be interesting.

I suppose, on further examination, both of those goals can be applied to my life in general. I don’t want the ordinary life. I don’t want to be normal. I don’t want to settle.

“I want adventure in the great, wide somewhere.”

I don’t want to be the little housewife who sits at home and waters the plants that are going to die anyway. You know?

Every 7 ½ minutes there is a car accident somewhere in Jordan. I know this because of the state-sponsored traffic awareness billboards posted every mile or so. The US State Department specifically advises Americans to not take the bus in Jordan (I took the Irbi-Amman bus every day for two months), and to avoid car travel as much as possible. “Sabaa wa noos!” – “Seven and a half!” I said last night, as the car stalled in the middle of a busy circle, or as an on-coming taxi missed us by about 3 inches this morning on the way to Yarmouk.

I can measure the distance between curling up in the fetal position and skydiving, between being a little housewife with her plants and a world traveler fluent in language, food, experience, and love – between boring and interesting, between wasting life and living it. Seven and a half minutes.