SJPL #3: Expressive automobile honking

If you are accustomed to the automobile honking etiquette of the American suburbs, or even better, the rural South, and have limited experience in traffic-inundated cities, then you may be shocked by the excessive and expressive use of the automobile horn in Jordan. Despite its humble beginnings as a simple audible signal for drivers to alert other drivers or pedestrians, the horn in Jordan has many meanings which often elude foreigners. The lingua franca of the street, horn honking ranges from a friendly “hello you’re in my way” to “you look hot, er, I mean haram (forbidden)” to “I just passed my high school exit exam!!” If you plan to visit Jordan, it would be helpful to familiarize yourself with the following five horn-honks:

1. “You’re walking in the road. Move.” This one varies from a light tap to several evenly spaced, urgent taps, but once you learn to recognize the annoyed tone, you’ll know it. You’ll also know it since you’re probably in the roadway when you hear it. Don’t be fooled by the crosswalks you might see in some of the nicer areas, because no one respects your pedestrian right-of-way, and jaywalking is only a problem is you’re hit by a vehicle. But that’s unlikely once you master weaving-in-and-out of traffic; until then, follow closely behind any Jordanians you see crossing the street.

2. “Do you want a taxi? Because even if you don’t, I’m going to keep honking…” You’re sure to hear this honk especially as a foreigner. Like the “Move” honk, it consists of urgent taps, but instead of the rapid, annoyed tone, these taps are less evenly spaced and become longer and more imploring in duration as the taxi approaches you and slows down. Example: “Honk.” You turn and see a taxi approaching, but you wave it off because you, like many a foreigner, prefer to walk. “Honk.” You keep walking; really, you don’t want it. The taxi pulls up beside you, and the driver leans toward the open passenger window, asking “Tak-see? You want tak-see?” Saying anything in Arabic like “La” (No) unless you are a native speaker is not always effective; perhaps you really mean “yes” and are just confused about your Arabic. The best response is to keep walking, looking straight ahead, or try ducking in the nearest dukkan (shop).

3. “You’re hot” aka “Ya haram (how shameful).” No matter how conservatively you dress, if you’re a foreigner, a woman and alone, you’re likely to hear this. Of course, you may not recognize it for what it is, especially if you intentionally dress conservatively. But once you’ve traveled in a taxi and witnessed it from the other side – the driver snaps his head toward a woman standing or walking alone and taps his horn as he passes – you’ll know it. Should you experience righteous anger at this honk, remember that in this gender-segregated society, men don’t actually know what to say to you. This light tap of interest could mean that this male driver simply wants to experience a communicative exchange with a woman, for even one so vague and indirect can be exhilarating. Or it could mean that he is offended by your very gender, especially if you are unaccompanied by a male – especially, mind you, if you’re exposing arms, legs or something worse. In that case, the tap will likely increase in intensity inversely to the amount of clothing you are wearing. If you’re not careful, the driver may try to give you a lift – and then some money for your services.

4. “I just passed my tawjihi (taw-jee-hee)! Yeah!!!” This high school exit exam is a big deal in Jordan, that is, if you care about your academic and career trajectory. The highest scores can propel you into the best medical programs while the lowest will land you in less respected courses like journalism or graphic design. When the exam results are released in the summer, chaos ensues in the streets, with caravans of young Jordanians cramming into vehicles, honking in a particular pattern of two slow honks followed by three quick honks, repeated over and over, and accompanied by shouting, tongue-trilling, and fireworks. If you’re a pedestrian, beware: people hanging out of windows are likely to point and shout at you, reaffirming their superiority (at placing into business management) over you lowly pedestrian. Every year, the Public Security Bureau, aka the Police, vow to catch and prosecute honking-offenders, but there’s little anyone can do when, at any moment in any street, convoys of honking high-schoolers go flying past. That day was today, so you’ve got the next 364 days to avoid this one.

5. “ We're getting married!" This one is like the tawjihi, except that it poses less of a threat to everyone involved: as a pedestrian you’re less likely to be involved as everyone will be focused on the two people pledged to one another and with the support of two tribes backing it and their honor at stake, no one is likely to bother you. The caravan is usually bedecked in flowers and proceeds with the reverence of a funeral procession, only slightly more lively as evidenced by the repetitive 2-3 honking pattern. The real party is the wedding ceremony itself and especially the after-party.

Stuff Jordanian People Like #1: Photos of King Abdullah II

While I have been busy with research, I’ve neglected my blog, not so much because I’ve been too busy to write, but because I’ve had little I can share with a general audience. So to keep the creative juices flowing, I’ll be doing a parody series of "Stuff White People Like" (http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/), inevitably titled "Stuff Jordanian People Like".

#1 Photographs of King Abdullah II.

Nations love immortalizing their heads of state in various media, but none more so since Stalinist Russia than perhaps Jordan - like a cult of personality only less fearful and more blissfully ignorant about what the king actually does, which, besides his presumed political duties, is everything: from scuba diving, to piloting helicopters, to riding motorcyles, to acting as an extra on Star Trek, Abdullah has done it and probably has been photographed doing it; all but the most intimate bodily functions are fair game. The English daily features a different Abdullah shot each day, and if Jordanians munched on cereal in the mornings instead of zait ou zatar (olive oil and thyme with bread), they would no doubt collect portraits of King Abdullah in cereal boxes. Whether or not Jordanians approve of Abdullah is inconsequential, like trying to decide whether or not Jordanians actually prefer the desert; that’s just how things are here. And at least in Jordan, unlike some of its neighbors, you won’t be imprisoned for three years over a satirical poem about your leader. Displayed in the ritziest restaurants to the humblest falafel stands, framed astutely inside homes, and weaving in and out of traffic plastered to taxi windshields, Abdullah’s face is more familiar to Jordanians than their third cousin’s – and that’s saying a lot. Consequently Abdullah infamously dons a bushy black beard when mingling with the common folk, like sneaking into a hospital ward to check up on the state of healthcare or smoking argeelah with some old men on a street corner talking about the state of the economy.

He learned such covert activities not from his military training but from his father, the late King Hussein. And while he’ll never have the classic patriarchal and mustachioed Arab good looks of his father, whose now fading visage still graces shop windows and peeling, sun-bleached car decals, Abdullah makes up for this lack of Arab-ness with an appealing Anglophilia: he founded the King’s Academy in Jordan, modeled after his experiences at the prestigious American boarding school Deerfield Academy and from his time at Oxford; he speaks English like a true Briton (much to the befuddlement of Jordanians who recognize that Abdullah speaks Arabic with a foreigner’s accent); he has unusually blonde-haired children; and like many a clever world leader, he’s married to a supermodel. The only personality Jordanians enjoy fawning over more than King Abdullah is Queen Rania whose slim, attractive figure has defied the law of nature that Jordanian women inflate like baking khobez (bread) by kid number five or by age thirty, whichever comes first.



(King Abdullah as an extra on Star Trek, "Investigations", 1996)