Caught In the Commission of a “Hat” Crime…

Caught In the Commission of a “Hat” Crime….

This post by a fellow blogger brings up some very important questions and is most definitely “food for thought.”


Documentary on “Islamophobia”

I created this documentary in order to open peoples minds about multicultural misconceptions and specifically on ‘Islamophobia” in America.

Again, I realize this post is not about the country of Jordan but it relates to the core theme of my blog because of opening peoples minds about Arab culture in order to continue sharing my interest in the Middle East and the Arabic language.

The documentary is called, “Multicultural Misconceptions: Islamophobia.”

and maybe not worth the hassle all the time

“A Sound So Loud I Forgot to Breathe”

While this post does not relate to Jordan it covers a very unique experience I had while I was in Cairo, Egypt for one week.

This post relates to the central theme of my blog, which is my passion and interest for the Middle East, its culture, and of course the Arabic language.  This is just the beginning of my work with Arabic and the Middle Eastern culture, which I plan to dedicate my work and studies towards for the rest of my life.

Anyways, back to my visual narrative on my trip to Cairo.

“A Sound So Loud I Forgot to Breathe” by Richard Hancock.


Blown up cars (usually government or police) such as the one in the photo above are very common in Tahrir Square in the middle of downtown Cairo, Egypt.  Tahrir became a media focal point during the Arab Spring and today is back in the spotlight with the overturn of the year old regime in Egypt.  My three American friends (BJ, Hailey, and Courtney) and I decided to travel to Cairo during our Spring break from our study abroad program in Irbid, Jordan.

During our week long stay in Cairo, we traveled to see the Pyramids, the International Jazz Festival, and many other sites.  However, the most memorable was when we decided to go to Tahrir Square.  Little did we realize the life changing experience that was about to unfold over the next several hours.    At times, we felt our lives and our safety were in danger.


As we passed the week old blown up car, we headed to the center of Tahrir to the camp sites.  In the center of Tahrir, laid a heap of tents filled with men and women.  For some, this had become their new home since the Revolution began. I asked my friend BJ, “How do you think these people would react if we went up to them and starting speaking to them in Arabic?”  BJ, liking the sound of this idea, eagerly went up to someone standing outside of the tents and asked if would be okay for us to come in and talk.  We were welcomed graciously as it was unusual for Tahrir revolutionaries to run into Arabic speaking Americans.  However, I still could not ignore my feeling of discomfort even with their gracious hospitality.

While in Tahrir, I felt an intense feeling that ran throughout my body like igniting a circuit board.  I nearly got sick to my stomach as I pictured what had taken in this exact area just a year earlier.  It was at that moment that I realized just how special it was to have the unique opportunity to be in Tahrir Square.


A young Egyptian man named Hassan (Hassan is in the middle of the photo to the left of my American friend BJ) invited us inside their tent.  As we walked into the tent, heat from the scorching sun bellowed out and sweat instantly began to pour as the smell of body odor and hashish became very apparent.  The young men welcomed us in typical Arab hospitality fashion, immediately offering us cigarettes and our choice of coffee or tea.  It is considered quite rude to not accept food, cigarettes, tea, etc when you are in an Arab home.  We then talked   for several hours as the tent filled many young men and some women who were eager to speak with us, share their stories, and give us their insights on the Egyptian Revolution.  We then received a huge meal that seemed to arrive out of thin air.  We ate falafel, pita, hummus, and a lot of unknown foods.  During this time, BJ and I kept a close eye on our female American friends as some of the Egyptian guys seemed overly “excited” that there were American girls in the tent.

After eating, I approached Courtney (the American girl with the big bright smile in the left of the above picture) if she wanted to go back to the Hostel or if she felt safe “hanging out” with the Egyptian revolutionaries.  Hailey (the other American girl to the right of Courtney in the photo) immediately chimed in saying, “Oh we’re staying here for sure, but you can leave if you want…we’re thinking about sleeping here for the night.”  At that moment, I realized that my friends were getting absorbed in the moment.  Some of our friends we had made at Tahrir came off as very aggressive and temperamental.  I decided to stay in Tahrir for another hour or so, and returned to the Hostel to relax with the owners of the hostel and a new friend.  Much to my surprise, in less than an hour we all witnessed something mind boggling.


It was around 4 PM when I heard a roar from the group of Egyptian men in Tahrir, as they screamed “Sharta!” (police in Arabic).  Immediately, the Egyptian’s in our tent rifled out grabbing whatever weapon was in sight, whether a gun, a baton, a knife, etc. The men approached the cop car yelling furiously, telling the cop to leave before he faced trouble.  Anytime a cop car attempts to drive into Tahrir Square the Revolutionaries work together to remove them.  Tahrir Square is the closest thing to anarchy I have ever witnessed.  A group of the Egyptians began breaking the windows of the cop car until they ripped the cop out of the car.  I could hear the cop begging for his life, as the revolutionaries became angrier.  The cop was beat upon until he was bleeding profusely and then was thrown upon the side walk.  Then our friend Sadat proceeded to take three lit Molotov Cocktails and threw them under the car.

Tahrir car 1

As we stood watching less than a hundred yards away, the three Molotov Cocktails burst into a massive explosion that decimated the police truck.  My eyes dilated as I began to teeter with the feeling of going into shock.  I felt the magnitude of the explosion with every orifice of my body.  The crowd of Revolutionaries ripped with applause and excitement as the smell of gas stained the air and the heat from the flames with the already hot weather set a chaotic and almost hell-like feeling.  My friends and I looked at each other in awe and without words.  The only thing we could do was to capture as much of it as possible with photographs and video.  At the time, we could not grasp this unimaginable experience.

tahrir car 3

The air was filled with smoke and it was becoming hard to breathe. I told my American friends I would meet them back at the hostel.  But, I could not refrain from taking more pictures.  My American friends decided to stay with the Revolutionaries for the evening in Tahrir Square.

me quynh and hassan

Back at the hostel, I began to finally comprehend what I had just witnessed while I relaxed with some of my new friends.  Hassan (NOTE: this Hassan is different from the one in a previous picture), on my right, was the owner of the Wake UP Hostel! Quynh, in the middle, was a traveler from Vietnam, and I forgot the man’s name to the right but he was extremely nice and worked at the hostel too.  These two Egyptian guys treated Quynh and I to sincere Egyptian hospitality over tea, food, and cigarettes. This was the perfect way to conclude my intense day at Tahrir Square.  My experience in Egypt is something I will never forget from the amazing friends I made to witnessing firsthand the Egyptian Revolution in action.

A Weekend with Bedouins in the Wadi Rum Desert

Three weeks before returning to the U.S. my entire study abroad group including our Jordanian roommates and language partners and I ventured to the Wadi Rum Desert along the Saudi Arabian border of Jordan.    After a long 6 hour plus bus ride to the Wadi Rum Desert we arrived to the gate of the Bedouin Camp.  Bedouins are tribal families who historically live off of the desert as nomads.  This group of people is commonly found in the deserts in Saudi Arabia and the surrounding areas.  We were greeted by a large group of Bedouins whom proceeded to cram all of us into a few “desert” trucks.  For the next forty five minutes we stumbled and bumbled around the desert eventually reaching the camp site.

Image   Wadi Rum Group Pic Two pictures of my study abroad group, including the Jordanian roommates (on the right).

I jumped out onto the sand without any shoes intensifying the cool and smooth sensation on the bottoms of my feet.  The sun was beginning to go down and the sand was hardly cool, but cool enough to ignite the relaxed sensation.  After inspecting our assigned tents, separated by gender a group to respect Jordanian society.  My friends (Bj, Nate, Hothaeyfa, and Rasha) and I found this small mountain/hill near the campsite.  As we reached the top of the hill it finally struck me just how spectacular the Wad Rum Desert is.  The five of us laid next to each other on the top of this big red rock as a cool steady breeze pushed back my hair.  For the next two hours we stared at the beautiful stars and picked out constellations with the echo obscene jokes in Arabic flying about.  When I stared into the never ending abyss of Space, the stars covered the sky like an artist had intentionally speckled the sky on a canvas.  It was difficult for me to take everything in because the deserts beauty was surreal.  A portion of us Americans became well acquainted with Arabic obscenities because learning to joke in a foreign language relaxes the mind and lowers owns worries.  Since I was in such a placid environment I felt obligated to meditate.  I began to meditate for one hour by myself on top of this angular rock that rose above the rest of the hill by seven feet, which amplified the feeling of peace and quiet.  My Jordanian friends did not understand what I was doing or why but I can faintly remember them “poking” fun of me.

Mazen, our program director from Syria, yelled our names and said it was time for dinner.  We got down to the campsite and approached everyone who were intently waiting around a circle looking at a big hole in the ground.  Seven feet under the ground was a bed of hot coals and a metal drum filled with rice, vegetables, chicken, and lamb.  The metal drum was covered in sand creating a sand oven.  This traditional Bedouin dish is called “زرّب” or “Zirrib,” immediately followed by cigarettes and coffee.   You know you are in Jordan when after you eat a meal everyone takes out a cigarette and you find yourself unable to breathe because of the toxic second-hand-smoke.  Note to the weary traveler, do not travel to Jordan if cigarette smoke bothers you.  You may even have to smoke a cigarette with a family at some point in order to show politeness.  After dinner a couple of the Bedouins began playing music.  One played the “Oud” (an instrument that looks similar to a guitar) and a “Tabla” (more or less, a bongo).  They began to play a relaxed Arab song that had a desert-like quality to it.  My friend Abood (his name means “slave” in Arabic but suggests that he is a slave/servant to Allah) and I got up and began to dance.  I loved dancing with Abood because he moved his hips like a woman.  Every time he danced I was amazed, it was like watching an Arab belly dancer.  I attempted to mimic Abood and received encouragement in the form of laughter and enjoyment from the audience.  I hope after graduating from UC Denver, I have the opportunity to return to the Bedouin camp and live with this family for six months.

Bedouin Camp Pic  This is a photo of the dining tent in the Bedouin Camp.

Clearing A Personal Misconception

I have been interested in the Arab culture and Islamic faith since High School when I realized learning Arabic was my number one goal in life.  When I began my undergraduate studies at the University of Denver with an Army ROTC scholarship I witnessed overt “Islamophobia” from soldiers returning from the Middle East.  Hearing words such as “towel head” have encouraged me to learn more about the Islamic faith and Arab culture because I understand that people are all people.  No matter where you travel around the world you will always meet good and bad people.  Growing up, I naturally developed some misconceptions towards the Islamic faith and Arab culture because of the culture I grew up in and my media selection.  My determination to learn the Arabic language on top of opening my eyes to a new culture led me to join the most intense study abroad program for Arabic and cultural immersion in a high risk area.  I wanted to immerse myself in a completely foreign culture, rarely speaking English, and correcting personal misconceptions.

I’m hoping my comments do not aggravate anyone.  I am just being 100% honest about my ignorance towards the Islamic faith and Jordanian culture before I travelled to Jordan.  Before arriving to Jordan I didn’t believe it was possible for an Imam in the Islamic faith to be open minded, because while growing up every time I would see something about an Imam (a Muslim professor of faith/priest) it usually was in a negative connotation in reference of terrorism or “hatred for America.”  This is probably because in High School I loved watching Fox News for some reason, a media outlet widely known for its unfair depiction of the Middle East and specifically the Islamic faith.  There is no doubt I was affected emotionally from the 9/11 events, which also contributed to my misconceptions.  Also, during my freshman year at the University of Denver I visited an Imam at a local Denver mosque for my Islamic Studies class.  My negative experience with this Imam and specifically his views on women rights imprinted a negative image in my head.  However, this was before I was able to wrap my head around the fact that “Feminism” is a Western created concept, also I believe there was some language barrier.

However, my opinion on Imam’s in the Islamic faith vastly changed when I lived in Irbid.  My neighbor in my student apartment at Yarmouk University was the head of Sharia law at the school and the Imam of the mosque on campus.  One evening, less than a month into the program, my American friends and I were drinking and listening to obnoxious dubstep, in order to help remind us of our “Americanness.”  During the period when we began to gradually increase the volume of the music and our voices, we heard a knock.  It was my neighbor an Imam, Dr. Abdel Raoof Kharabsheh.  He asked permission to come inside, to my surprise he didn’t mention anything about the music, he’s just small talking and getting to know us (all in Arabic because he did not speak English).  After twenty minutes of “chatting” Abdel mentioned that it would be polite for us to turn down the music because the walls are thin.  He made a point that he loves music therefore he didn’t care, but he was worried about the other families living around us.  I was blown away by how calm and seemingly open minded this Imam was.  Here is a Jordanian man who is a professor of Sharia law and an Imam who is in room with a couple empty liquor bottles and three females.  This is an epitome of a cultural enigma because according to Jordanian society, unrelated men and women to be in the same room in a residence.  I ended up becoming closer with Dr. Abdel and was blown away by his ability to recite the Quaran.  Sometimes we would play this game where he asked me, “Rich, give me a page number any page number.”  I would say a random number and this man would begin reciting the Quran word for word as I followed by reading the Holy Quran.  Maybe I’m just ignorant but I was blown away by how open minded and non-judgmental Professor Abdel was.  The best feeling in the world is realizing when you’re wrong.  I love a constant reminder of humility.

Image This is the Imam, Dr. Abdel Raoof Kharabsheh

Autostrad: Jordanian Funk

Once I arrived to Irbid, Jordan I immediately began to investigate the “music scene.” I was desperate to find a place just to play a guitar. To my disappointment I discovered the “music scene” in Irbid was non-existent because Irbid is a primarily conservative Muslim city. According to Irbid’s interpretation of the Islamic faith music is considered to be “haraam” (forbidden by religion). This was an aspect of culture shock that what difficult for me to deal with at first. Music is very important to my life. I love listening, playing, and dancing to music every day. Eventually I purchased an Oud, which is a Middle Eastern instrument slightly similar to a guitar. The Oud is the “cousin” of the Spanish Flamenco guitar because while the Arab Moors occupied Spain for hundreds of years they culturally diffused the Oud to the gypsies in Spain. The gypsies then created the Flamenco guitar. I also began using my Italian friend Flavia’s guitar. This, on top of, listening to music frequently and going to the International Cairo Jazz Festival when I traveled to Egypt, beckoned my thirst for music.

When I traveled to Amman for the first time I realized this is where the “music scene” of Jordan existed. After searching YouTube and with the help of my friend Haley Edwards we discovered this band, Autostrad. Autostrad is a six person band based out of Amman, Jordan, consisting of instruments such as bass guitar, electric guitar, drums, saxophone, keyboard/synthesizer, percussion, rhythm guitar, and more. This variety of instruments creates a high energy funk/jazz/reggae fusion sound with Eastern style synthesized keyboard overtones. This music is usually fast paced and up beat. This is unique for the “underground” Jordanian music scene because most of the other “underground” music like Hip Hop is very serious and political. Autostrad likes jamming out and singing to enjoying life and doing what they love, while at times poking fun at serious topics like unemployment in Jordan. Autostrad also likes to frequently mention smoking “hash” which is an extremely controversial topic in Jordan because of the strict legal penalties. When I listen to a song like سافر , the video I submitted on this post, I feel and tingling sensation that immediately warms my heart and makes me want to play music and “jam” along. However, when I don’t have instruments there is no other choice but to get down, dance, and get funky. Their cunning musicianship effectively blends Western and Eastern styled music. This is no easy feat because these styles derive from completely different music theory and operate on different number of octaves and scales. For instance, Eastern music has 24 octaves while Western music plays in 12 octaves.

Once I return to Jordan after I graduate from UC Denver I will see Autostrad, no doubt! I hope you enjoy the video.

Taboo: Making Friendships with the Opposite Sex in Irbid

First, I will clear up some cultural misconceptions on the relationship between men and women in the Middle East.  For instance, it’s forbidden to hit a woman in any kind of manner according to the Islamic religion.  It is also forbidden by faith to kill.  However, according to Tribal Law until recently there have been rare cases when honor killings can be carried out in an attempt to “retain family honor.”  There is no doubt that women are not treated up to “our standards” in the West, however, I think it is important for people to consider that “our standards” are just the cultural norms in America and is not the same across the entire globe.  But, I believe that the sexual regression from strictly following the Islamic religion (and making it illegal to have sex before marriage) can influence this segregation of sexes.  Often I found young Jordanian men clueless on how to socialize with women because of the segregation.  I believe outlawing sex before marriage has severe psychological impacts on the population of Jordanian society.  Sex is a natural act of life, but in Jordan people aspire to become married and then have sex frequently.  Therefore, making honest friendships with people of the opposite sex in Jordan can be quite the challenge.  I should reiterate that I was living in a very conservative Muslim city.  The conclusions I make can only be acquainted with the city of Irbid.

Not until the last two months of my program in Irbid was I able to make female Jordanian friends.  One day my friends Nate, BJ, and I decided to teach many of our male Jordanian roommates at Yarmouk University how to play Frisbee.  The young men were very intrigued by this foreign game.  It was slightly difficult to explain how to throw the Frisbee exactly in Arabic therefore we acted it in a slow, dramatic fashion.  One day a group of female Jordanian students seemed very curious by this game.  My friend Fuad said to the girls “yella, ma fe mshkla” (meaning “let’s go, no problem”).  When these girls joined us to play Frisbee I realized just how amazing this was.  Guys and girls would never think of playing a sport together in Irbid and here are these young ladies who defy this cultural norm.  Defying cultural norms is not very common in Irbid.  The group of girls named Hadeel, Asaala, Aseel, and Sara began to play Frisbee with us every Thursday and Sunday.  After a few weeks I became close with this group of girls.  I began to see these girls about four times a week and would walk around campus with them, eat at restaurants, and receive extra help in Arabic as well.  Not only did these ladies become great friends it also was the main catalyst for my rapid improvement in Arabic because these women did not speak any English.  A casual relationship between a man and woman in Irbid is very difficult because of the cultural values and the laws.  I feel very honored to have made friends with these girls because of the harassment they and I dealt with when we were together in public.  I wasn’t sure if the other Jordanian students were jealous, immature, or etc. but we would constantly have to ignore verbal harassment from “shababs” (young guys) on campus.  I continue to stay in contact with these girls and hopefully will meet up with them in the future either in America or Jordan.Image