Activism in Amman

Merry Christmas!

Here's a photo of me at the Amman Museum of Arts in Jebel Weibdeh, posing in front of its awesome view with a statue from its gardens.

I haven’t posted for a long while! There’s been so much that’s happened in the past few weeks, and I’ve been so busy I’ve had no time to post! But now, typical of me, a bizarre short-term illness (fever, headache, and muscle aches – something termed "kreeb" in Arabic) has slowed me down so that, confined to rest, I now have the time to sit down and fully complete a post.

My mother keeps laughing at me as I tell her about all the posts I start and never finish, proof of both my creativity and my lack of consistent self-motivation. Here is one that I have started and will finish today:

Jordan is a hub for activism. Individuals, grassroots organizations, and international NGOs congregate in this country, filling it up with as much hope as there exists need. The work of these activists inspires me to learn more, to hope more, and to act.

I wonder at the phenomenon of how a culture for activism developed here, and how it happened so fast. In a candid chat over tea at one of my favorite cafés, a visiting friend from Beirut told me of how, when she lived in Amman as a child, few such organizations existed in the city besides religiously affiliated charities. As a young activist, she proudly grew up watching Amman bud into a hotbed of grassroots-based action. She laments moving to Beirut in the wake of Amman’s activism wave, but she’s proud of all the brave individuals who have built strong organizations for change and proudly stand up for human, civil, and environmental rights.

I don’t blame her. I find myself every day bumping into new forms of activism. One day last week, I found my curiosity getting the best of me as I walked by an open door headed with a modest yet prominent sign that declared, “Justice Center for Legal Aid.” Their symbol reminded me of the Human Rights Campaign symbol, and I wondered whether such an organization would be able exist in Jordan. So I carefully poked my head into the front door, and was greeted by three Jordanian women who excitedly ushered me in and sat me down before asking about why I was even there. When I explained that I was simply interested in learning more about the organization, the women happily pressed a cup of tea in to my hands as they gathered around me to explain their mission.

The Justice Center for Legal Aid (JCLA) works towards giving pro bono legal representation to Jordan’s underprivileged groups, including women, refugees, and foreign domestic workers. We had a lovely conversation. Every sentence I uttered in Arabic elicited giggles and exclamations like, “Oh, how cute.” More women gathered around and added into the conversation, until the initial teatime gathering soon resembled something like a celebratory party. I nodded and smiled as they prided themselves for their impressively high success rate of winning over 80 percent of their cases. Thanks to God, they said, funding for their work continues to grow and they are expanding their services to other cities in Jordan.

However, they constantly have difficulty in translating their documents into English for the international donors to read. Their proposals take weeks to edit, their reports are a laborious process, and they struggle in getting personal narratives from their lawyers. One woman stressed the point that lawyers usually have a dry writing style anyway, so imagine trying to get lawyers to write in a second language! They produce bland and choppy statements. Would I like to help? An hour and a half later, I left the Justice Center having eight new friends and my first volunteering opportunity. I’ve signed on to be a translator, editor, and ghostwriter for the center.

Beyond organizations, some people are taking on their own initiatives to make a difference in the country. Julia, an acquaintance of mine, has taken on the brave initiative of helping as many Palestinian refugees as possible from the Gaza Camp. She works through no organization. Yet, through donations that she gets through her blog, she strives to give as much as she can, from toys to heating appliances for the cold winter nights to life-changing operations. One by one, she encounters a problem and finds the means to solve it. Her motivation is so inspiring.

Activism can reach various channels for spreading awareness and inciting action, such as films and music. Earlier this month, I excitedly attended several documentaries during Amman’s Karama Human Rights Film Festival. The films covered a broad range of topics, from the United States’ army bases throughout the world to drug and human trafficking through Germany to Iran’s Green Revolution in 2009. I found each film moving or thought provoking, and I loved that such large groups of people, both Jordanian and foreign, attended each event.

At times, the shear depth of human rights infringements depresses me. How can we even begin to address all the sadness, need, and injustice in the world? But then, I remember Mother Theresa’s saying, “We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.”

The devoted work from the activists that I see in Jordan embodies Mother Theresa’s mission. All around me, I see so many people moved to imagine a better world and to act towards improving the lives of those around them. The need is great, but the hope is greater. Hope is a powerful motivator. It lingers within the hearts and minds of people the way the call to prayer echoes throughout Amman’s hills, encouraging them to try harder, to work stronger, and to love more deeply.