American Stereotypes 101: The Scarfwearer

And thus begins our great experiment: cataloging, detailing, and otherwise shining a unflattering light on the silly American archetypes that inhabit the Amman, Jordan area. Please note: None of these are directed at any specific individuals. If you fall into one of these categories, it's you're own fault. No scarfwearers were hurt in the making of these posts.

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Stereotype #1: The Scarfwearer

Although already discussed on other expat blogs and on Urban Dictionary, we feel this is a good starting point from which we can branch out from. Usually the Scarfwearer is a girl from a small liberal arts school who wants to literally immerse themselves into Arab culture (TMI!).

More than likely a "one" for Jordan.

Their most distinguishing quality is their air of superiority regarding anything Arab or Palestinian related (Actual quote regarding Arab gender politics: "I am here to listen!!"). They are also usually followed around by their awkward, non-English speaking Jordanian boyfriend. The Scarfwearer speaks formal Arabic at all times and refuses to speak English with other native English speakers.

Like I would ever even want to talk to her anyway...

The most extreme scarfwearer will marry her shab boyfriend only after a few months of getting to know him by drinking tea, holding hands, and having fruitless, superficial conversations using vocabulary from Al-Kitaab (Key fil Hal, habibi?). Some return to United States with their new husband and attend their university sporting the niqab (true story). Most just rock the Palestinian keffiyah at all times, especially during the summer, and attend pro-Palestine rallies at their university. Note: Actual Palestinians question why this white girl is even at the rally and why she is wearing a keffiyah in 100+ degree weather.

Although NOTHING could excuse this idiot.

At any opportunity, they will remind anyone unfortunately close enough to listen about their experience in the Middle East ("When I was in Jordan… met a strange man… went to his house… kept introducing me as his fiance, LOL). They also fast during Ramadan, however since they are not Muslim nobody expects them to fast, and Muslims who are fasting can't understand why someone who isn't Muslim would do this.

Similar as to when this happened...

What scarfwearers fail to realize is that nobody (expats, locals, and fellow students) likes them. We think they are obnoxious, strange, and tarnish the reputation of non-scarfwearing Americans in Jordan. No matter how much they are "Just trying to help! No one understands the Palestinians like I do..." all they do is embarrass themselves.

Analysis (1 = Least Ridiculous/Insecure, 5 = Most Ridiculous/Insecure, etc.)

Ridiculousness: 4/5

While the personal actions of these girls vary in Head Smack-ability, for the most part they are harmless. Annoying? Yes. Embarrassing? Yes. Are they going to cause international incidents? Probably not...

Personal Insecurity: 4.5/5

All of these girls are in the midst of trying to find themselves, which is part of the reason they are so insufferable. Some of them never leave Amman cafes and restaurants, while some go out and find Bedouin boyfriends in Petra. Nonetheless, they are so consumed by their drive to Be Better Here Than They Are At Home, they never make real friends here. Ya salaam.

Intangibles: 2/5

No one can say these girls are scared of the world, as they are following their selfish, selfish hearts wherever it takes them. However, they suck all the air out of the room when they enter, and for that, they should be ashamed.

Rating: 4 out of 5 Picard Facepalms

Ramadan Update...

Sorry world, from mid-June to mid-July I was consumed with working on a paper myself and a colleague presented at a conference in Istanbul. Then, I was consumed with getting a job (which I did), and then working (which was nice).

Thankfully, I don't teach in Saudi...this looks awful.

BIG BLOG NEWS, THOUGH: A friend and I are going to collaborate on a few blog posts together, rigorously and, hopefully, satirically eviscerating the stereotypes of Americans Living In Jordan. There are more than we expected as we compiled our list, and we are going to be posting them (along with some ALL NEW PHOTOSHOPS) on here during this magical month of August/Ramadan.

Every night. All night. Outside my building. WHY?!?!

All of this is done in jest, so I hope no one gets truly offended. As Oscar Wilde said, "True friends stab you in the front." So stay tuned...

Muah ha ha ha ha....

No More Cats!

We FINALLY got rid of the kittens a few weeks ago. My allergies and cleaning ladies couldn't have been happier.

I think its obvious to even the most casual of readers my utter disdain for any and all things feline, except for this:

But, thankfully, we found homes for all four of Little F*cker's bastard children. Two went with Anael's French colleague for his children, one went with another French teacher, and the runt (the stupid one with the flat head) went to one of the Peace Corps volunteers. Mama F*cker was left to her own devices, because nobody wants a needy, constantly meowing poop machine that does absolutely nothing except get pregnant and expect you to deal with it.

Even the dumb one did better.

Anyway, here are some pictures in remembrance of the mangy rascals that made sleeping in my apartment a living hell for about a month.

Even I have to admit this is cute.

Yuck. Sure they look cute there, but they pooped on that sofa!

They are so dumb.

Everyone wanted the white one. For the record: I wanted NONE OF THEM.

Whoa! Almost forgot...

...that this existed!

Sorry Mom, I'm not dead. It's been a busy two months. I'll have some posts up soon. Until then, here's a few pictures of what's been going on.

Went to Tel Aviv, saw that they have MEAT-ings there. What up laxbros.

Just a herd of sheep crossing where I walk to work everyday.

I exploded our oven...and was rewarded with an impromptu haircut!

My friend Al'a had a surprise birthday party! I just like the photo, really.

Guess where I went again...

The Infestation Continues

Several months ago, a small cat started hanging out near our apartment. Anael, having a soft spot for cats, decided to start letting it in our apartment and feeding it. I was opposed to this on a very basic level. However, the cat (who we affectionately named "Little F*cker") appeared to be an abandoned house cat. She was good around people, clean, and relatively polite. And, kicking her out of the apartment gave me endless pleasure.

Like Mr. Banks kicking out DJ Jazzy Jeff, but with claws.

Our landlord had already forbidden us from having a cat in the apartment, which Anael, in his typically French way, politely ignored at every turn. So, a few weeks ago, we noticed Little F*cker (or LF) began to look kinda fat. I chose to ignore the obvious, hoping that she was just a gluttonous little pig and that she didn't have a progressively larger distended belly every time I saw her...

Jeez, lay off the carbs. Maybe we should have named her Little Porker...

We knew that she was going to pop soon, and like any good animal lovers, we wanted nothing to do with it. We decided to take LF to the rich neighborhood of Amman and leave her there, hoping the food scraps would be enough to provide her new kittens with the gross, garbage sustenance they need.

People gotta eat, even Shame Dog.

Well, God has a way of laughing at your plans, because the night we were going to toss her out on the streets like the Good Lord intended, her water broke all over our floor.

Let's just say that this is what it looked like...

A few hours later, the amount of cats in our apartment had quintupled.

That means four kittens. 4 + 1 = 5

Here is our maternity ward. MORE THAN WHAT SHE DESERVES.

Please, come take one.

Absent, deadbeat dad, living off of handouts, popping out kids everywhere with no plan for the future...what a horrible mother.

"Whatever Greg." Typical F*cker.