Angry, The Way of the World

I haven’t written in a while, I’ve been angry and I’m trying to keep it clean on the blog.I am terribly bummed for not being in Cairo right now, I was supposed to travel right when the protests started. I would have been in the protests filming. Jordan is being the quiet pressure cooker that I always thought it to be. A few days a week I go to a riding club, I’m struggling to afford it but I love being close to horses. I’m obsessed with them. There in the quiet open spaces outside Amman - not the slum outskirts, the other side - I see rich people. Polite, classy and detached. They remind me of the scene of the white room at the opening chapter of Great Gatsby or the Polo part scene in Passage to India. There I see giant horses who never leave the stables and foam at the mouth every time they are ridden and there I see “common” horses (Arabian half breeds) working 10 or 12 hours a day. It’s the way of the world some would say. I don’t believe that’s true, ways change. I stand inside the box of one common horse, a mare, holding a brush with one hand and sugar cubes in the other so she stops snapping at me trying to bite and kick, not that I blame her, and I think of protestors in Tahrir square in Cairo and wish that the masses overpower their corrupt leader.

I pray my little Jordanian country side bubble will not be burst. Where the hell will me and my family go if Jordan becomes the same as Egypt, we cannot go back to Iraq. Jordan needs reform and I believe it’s heading there. The rural parts of Jordan are neglected, the middle class is burdened with debt with little means to support them to get out of the rat-race and move up a notch. The economy in Jordan is a market open only to the big bucks, not small investments. Iraqis and Palestinians have the bare minimal of legal protection, health insurance, ability to travel and other basic rights. Honor killings still exist. Protests are not permitted without the government's permission, like I said, not permitted. It’s migrant labour force is treated like trash. Sure Jordan has problems.

But the economy is still growing at a healthy paste despite the global crisis in the economy, the infrastructure and basic services are good and cities are gorwing, Amman it’s one of the safest cities for single women and Jordan all-in-all still has chivalry, elections are held and the government is shuffled. The only one fixed here is the king and his most significant role is symbolic in the sense that Jordan’s competing tribes all agree on him and argue in parliament. I don’t see any other system working for a country of Jordan’s demographics. For a country with so little natural resources I think Jordan is functioning by some miracle or loads of international aid for it being one of the rare peaceful spots in this hellhole, if even on a surface level.

A friend of mine called Jordan a fake democracy. “So what if the King and Queen speak English and go on Oprah! They don’t represent us!” I asked him if he’d rather have the Islamic brotherhood instead. “why not!” “but you drink alcohol and your wife is in strapless gowns!” “This is democracy isn’t it! The Muslim Brotherhood represents the streets and the majority of the masses.” “Street credibility” Michael snapped his fingers at the realization, he’s an American who’s moved recently to Iraq and is disillusioned with the US foreign policies in Iraq. “Moderate people like you and me are a minority in the world today” he said and sunk in his chair. “We’re the minority” his words rang in my ears. It truly is a time for extremes and extremists. Do I really support democracy then? Will I still support the protesters if the Muslim brotherhood took over and dragged the entire region into wars?

The instructor asked a rider off his horse because the horse refused to jump a fence. He jerked the reigns and started hitting the Arab half breed horse in a frenzy, that horse belonged to the club, a working horse. K with her blond curls flew by on her giant European white mare. She hugged her mare around the neck when she jumped the fence smoothly. For a second I could see her look behind at the horse being hit. She quickly adjusted her eye sight to the next fence. It’s the way of the world.