Goodbye Parties

The last few weeks were a whirlwind. Terry taught at the university, edited research for professors, dissertations for students, guest lectured throughout Jordan, and fulfilled numerous volunteer obligations while completing university and community projects. Not too shabby for someone who doesn't need to work. It was no surprise that no fewer than eight good-bye parties honoring my wife were given. There was a real outpouring of affection and appreciation. In one 3-day stretch there were breakfasts, lunches, and dinners, one after another. One interesting cultural note we learned was if a guest reaches for water after eating it signals "not enough to eat." This explains why hosts kept bringing me food when I asked for a glass of water. I also learned a slight wrist turn with a cup stops coffee refills. (I'm putting these in the "better late than never" file.) There was a faculty reception honoring Terry and I was invited and thanked for my State Dept. article about Jordan. It was a beautiful reception with heartfelt speeches, tears shed by some faculty (not Terry, but she was emotional) and a presentation to my wife of a "thank you" plaque in an elaborate velvet-padded box. After eating the most amazing foods we had to leave because another reception for Terry was being held. And we aren't going home until next month.

There were several student celebrations, one because of me, because a student remembered an offhand comment I made about wanting to try a nargilah (also called hubbly-bubbly, sheesha, or hookah). University students got together and took me out (the first time my wife was the tag-along!). We went to a restaurant with tables in the center and couches in the corners, where we sat as a group. The students insisted I order coffee and dessert, the "right" way to smoke a nargila, so I ordered coffee and apple pie (because nothing is as American as apple pie with...a nargila). The smoke comes in "flavors" and they ordered a combination of watermelon and mint. There was a young man whose sole job was to place hot coals over the flavors and start the ball rolling (and keep it rolling, every 10 minutes, for an hour). He removed the mouthpiece from a sealed bag (to show it hadn't been used) and then came the moment of truth. Everyone, including my wife, turned to watch me. I must have passed the test because I didn't cough and the students all laughed. We spent an hour sitting in a fog ("tabob") of smoke, the students asking about family life in the United States, and explaining details of family life in Jordan (including family dynamics with two wives - really interesting). It was great fun.

One of the receptions included adult children (of colleagues), possibly the most astute political observers I've met here. On a cultural note, it is always interesting to see how women who are covered head to toe manage to eat. All of the meals were very elaborate and delicious. To my unpracticed eye it seems like meals begin with appetizers of hummus, salads, and bread. Then large platters of rice appear and on top of the rice are either mounds of lamb or chicken. Most dishes are topped with roasted nuts and served with a yoghurt-based gravy.

At one party I (unthinkingly) ate with my left hand and was gently chided by someone whose spouse teaches Sharia (Islamic religious law) in Saudi Arabia. I have gotten pretty good at eating with my right hand. Another party for Terry was held at a five-star restaurant built to resemble a giant Bedouin tent in an oasis with fountains, low tables, a Bedouin "kitchen" for photos, and mounds of delicious food. The students at that party, who enjoyed a great mutual bond with Terry, gifted her with an intricately hand-embroidered floor-length Jordanian dress with headdress. The students really wanted Terry to take her gift for a test run, and she agreed, so they helped her slip the dress on over her clothing and fasten the headdress. Then, similar to weddings in Mexico, the bride (that would be Terry) was taken from place to place to be photographed. We now have a collection of photos of Terry, standing and sitting, all over the restaurant. Another class hosted a potluck because they wanted Terry to try their homemade specialties. They could have fed 100 people. The food was spectacular, homemade, and they had a custom cake that said "We will miss you, Dr. Terry" with a picture of her face on it! The only thing that could top that was when they lit "candles" that turned out to be giant sparklers. The (female) students gave Terry many hugs and kisses, took many pictures, and sang her praises to the Dean (invited as a sign of respect). The bond she formed with these students was obvious. They gave her an ornate memory book inscribed by each of them and perched on an olive wood stand with a pen and pencil holder engraved with her name on one side and embroidery on the other. The big surprise was that they presented me with a plaque, a relief map of Jordan inscribed to "Mr. David." I was very touched. We have a few more dinner invitations for our last weeks but the parties are over. I am touched by how my wife was appreciated and by the kind, intelligent, generous people I met here.