Gossip

Amman is tiny and everyone knows everyone. They also know each others grandmas, fathers, second cousins, brothers-in-law and probably know what you had for dinner last night too. It is the only place that I have been where, when you add a new friend on facebook, you find that you have over 50 'mutual friends', all of whom you've seen in the past month. Going out in the evenings, one is guaranteed to see someone that they know, and if you are doing anything conspicuous, you can be sure that someone will be discussing it over coffee next week. For me it's part of the appeal of Jordan, but also part of the problem.

I love the closeness of the community and how generations intermingle and I love bumping into friends unexpectedly (although when it happens so often, can it really be described as unexpected?). What I hate is the way that people talk about each other. The rheotrical question that comes to mind is, "don't they have anything better to do?". Alas, perhaps the explanation for the incessant chattering is inherrent in the question. While I by no means hold women solely responsible, we are known to gossip more than men, and while the situation of employment of women in Jordan is improving, many do not work. Instead these women honourably devote their lives to caring for their families, but of course, while the kids are at school, or once the maid is looking after them, this leaves a great deal of time for those with a penchant for involving themselves in the lives of others to practice the art of busybodying.

Having left the place I used to call home on my journey across the world, I found some space and time to explore different cultures, lifestyles, communities and myself. Backpacking alone gave me the opportunity to express myself according to the morals that I was brought up with, without feeling pressured to be anything that anyone else wanted me to be. So settling now into a society that expects so much requires some patience. Women here are expected to be inconspicuous at all times, but to represent their family in the highest regard when spoken to, and perhaps more importantly, when spoken of.

Indeed, I have often been referred to as 'my father's daughter' in the West, implying that my father and I have a lot in common, as I have certainly inherited some his most dominant characteristics, but here the expression has an entirely different connotation. My actions reflect upon my family which, for a rather impulsive, headstrong, twenty-something woman, means I frequently have to keep myself in check.

That we, as young ladies, are working is not a problem. It has become acceptable for the women of my generation, espescially pre-marriage, to get a job and make use of the education that our families have invested so much in, but who we are out with and where we are going is monitored at all times to ensure that we are not doing anything 'dishonourable'. Of course, this maintains a protective limitation on the misdemeanors of Arab youth which I admire. But while the guardians of society may have good intentions, the raised eyebrows and idle gossip which passes through society like Chinese Whispers can be tiresome. For me, living alone, my Egyptian porter has attempted to assume the role of my honour-keeper. Forget the Spanish Inquisition - they had nothing on Egyptian interrogation. But seriously, is intefering in the lives of female tenants a standard part of a porter's job description?