Standard Questions & Responses

STANDARD QUESTION #1:
Although I've accompanied Kyle to the gas station numerous times, we've always gone to the same one. It might sound strange to hear there really aren't very many stations throughout the capital city of Amman, as this IS a middle east country, but Jordan has zero oil resources of its own and is not a wealthy place. They have so few, in fact, that every gas station is even marked on the country-wide map we keep in our car. If you see a gas station, you might as well top off!

However, this morning I had to stop at a different gas station on my way to "work" (I volunteer at the Holy Land Institute for the Deaf in As-Salt, a 40 minute drive from Amman). All gas stations are full service (I'm not going to complain!), so I told the attendant "Full, please" in Arabic. He opened the gas tank but then hesitated, returning to the open window. "Blah blah blah blah," he asked (Arabic, very little of which I understood). Using my context clues and background experience, I deduced he was asking me STANDARD QUESTION #1: Did I want him to stop pumping right away, when the machine clicked off automatically, or did I want him to stop pumping when the gas was "all the way to the door". We've been amazed to see the attendants frequently forcing the gas pump until there is gas pouring over the side of the car!

Ah-ha! Here was my chance to stop such craziness: "Not up to the door!" I told him in Arabic. "Stop before!" Sure enough, when the machine clicked off, he put away the pump and came to the car window to collect the fee (and a little "baqsheesh" (tip), of course!). Problem solved and gas tank saved!

STANDARD RESPONSE #1:
In Arabic cultures, when you are meeting someone for the first time, the typical questions are: Where do you live? Are you married? Do you have children? Really, the typical greeting includes around 10 rhetorical questions, asked in rapid succession--How are you? How is your health? What is your news? How is your family? How is their health? What is your news? (I'm not kidding!).

The "Do you have children?" question is a sticky one for us. All married people in the middle east are expected to have children. Arabs love children. They do not adopt, so when they are barren, it is shameful and must be fixed, usually medically. Kyle and I have been infertile for 5 years now. Well, not entirely. We do have a beautiful baby we have never met who has been waiting for us in heaven since December 2007. However, thanks to the cultural importance placed on giving women the opportunity to have their own children, we have taken advantage of excellent medical care in Jordan and have had some diagnostic work done. The results say I am "anovulatory". Therefore, my simplest answer to the question, "Do you have children?" is "No, I have a problem and cannot have them."

The response from the new acquaintance is always what surprises me. It doesn't matter who I am speaking to: mother of Kyle's colleague, my Palestinian Jordanian (Christian) tutor, a teacher at the Deaf School or, like today, the "tough" middle-school aged boy who was curious about my presence at his deaf school. After watching him use foul signs with another boy and be the "cool kid" in his peer group, he turned to me. Here is our conversation:

Boy: You work here?
Me: No, I volunteer. I teach English to the teachers.
Boy: You live here?
Me: No, I live in Amman.
Boy: But where are you from?
Me: Oh, America, but I live in Amman for one year.
Boy: You married?
Me: Yes, my husband is American, too, but we live together in Amman.
Boy: You have children?
Me: Children? "Ma fee" (There are none). I have a problem.
Boy: Ask Allah. He will give you one.

Kyle and I practiced a similar response even before arriving in Amman, knowing this question would be asked. "No, we do not have any children, but we have asked Allah and are waiting on Him." How refreshing to realize that children, men, women, Muslims, and Christians alike recognize the authority of Allah and His ability to provide our hearts' desires. The lack of hesitation, the certainty, the "duh, of course you should ask Allah" response refreshes my soul. Standard Response #1, I hope you come back with me to America!

(PS: We personally consider adoption an affirmative response from Allah, equal to the gift of a child from our womb. His timing may be slower than our preference, and His answer may even be different than we want to hear, but we trust His desire for our best!)