Arab Hospitality and other Jordan Local Custom Tips

An Egyptian friend of mine once said, "Sometimes we think we treat foreigners better than we treat each other."

A couple of stories from my trip to Jordan.

A invitation to dinner

My driver for the week, Jihad, possibly because he was amazed at my ability to sing along to parts of the famous Lebanese pop song "The Hat is Yours" (Habbeetik) on the radio, and also know what the song title really meant ("I loved you"), insisted I come back and entertain his family with my bad Arabic. There I was force-fed some amazing home-cooked Jordanian food. While I ate, his children came out to stare at me intently, copying my words and actions and laughing (a lot).

Hazim, the bedouin and his tea.

I was accosted somewhere in the desert by a genuine Bedouin. After surprising him with my few hastily learned words of Arabic ("salam alaikoum!"), he insisted I come inside and drink tea with him. And more tea. And more tea. He spoke pretty good English, but he didn't seem to understand "no thanks", "I've had quite enough tea now, thank you", and "I've really got be going or I'll never get back to my hotel before the sun goes down."

From Lawrence of Arabia:

When Lawrence wonders why the Harith Bedouin Sherif Ali doesn't kill him for drinking from their well, after he killed his Hazimi Bedoin friend for the same crime, Sherif Ali tells him:

"You are welcome."

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One day my driver, Jihad, a Muslim with a very obviously Muslim name, asked me if it was ok for him to take a detour, because his child had called in sick at school and he needed to be picked up. I said sure. The school was near Amman, out of the way in the countryside. As we approached it I felt it looked strangely familiar. As we entered the school gates I realised why: it was a Christian school.

"This is a Christian school", I said.

"I know", said Jihad, smiling.

It turns out that half the school is Muslim, and half Christian. All the kids, Christian and Muslim, were standing around wearing red hats and singing along to Jingle Bells in Arabic.

I stayed in Madaba, which has the largest Christian population in Jordan. Everyone I met, Christian and Muslim, was keen to point out that they all got along famously, and it did seem to be the case. While events elsewhere, in Israel and the rest of the Middle East, can work to drive a wedge between the two communities, they seem to want to live together as Arabs, rather than apart as Christians and Muslims.

Walking out of my door at 5am and hearing the calls to prayers from the Mosques, while opposite me was a shop selling alcohol and next door to that one selling sexy lingerie, told me that this wasn't a stereotypical Muslim country.

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You will see King Abdullah's beatific smile beaming down at you from posters all over Jordan. He gets everywhere, and on everything. You'll see King Abdullah in modern Western business suit, King Abdullah in traditional bedouin headdress, King Abdullah in local football kit, King Abdullah in army uniform with many medals of honor, King Abdullah in relaxed smart casual wear, and so on. He also seems to endorse everything Jordanian, like King Abdullah beaming at you from a giant stretched canvas of Kerak Castle.

He's highly respected in the country, and you will see pictures of him, his beautiful wife, and the rest of his family, including his deceased father, in homes and businesses all across the country, as well as on giant posters and placards in every town, village and cluster of huts in the desert. It's probably best not to say anything bad about him, not that it's illegal or anything. Jordan's a pretty free country, but you probably won't make any friends.

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