On the way to Salman’s house he became very quiet and then said ‘I want to ask you personal question’. I said that this was ok. ‘In Australia’, he began, ‘Is it tradition for woman to marry?’ I indicated that most women, yes, do marry, but not all. ‘You are not married’. This was pretty much a statement and because he seemed worried about this I was a little naughty and said that my husband had died. I feel very guilty about this now. At the time I felt that in Jordan it was hard for many people (especially in rural areas) to understand the concept of not getting married. For me to say that I don’t want to get married seemed to worry them. I can understand this as it simply is not part of their culture.
We arrived at Salman’s house in the village. It was in his family compound which consisted of several buildings. His father had two wives and so there were two houses (one for each). The grandmother also seemed to have her own one room building. I met Salman’s father who was a friendly man, one of his wives, an older and younger brother and his grandmother. Salman told me he has 11 siblings from two mothers. I told him my father had 11 siblings from one mother and he was very impressed saying she was very strong.
I removed my shoes (as I’d heard this was the thing to do) and entered into what must have been the living room/bedroom. The house was very simple with a kitchen off to one side. I didn’t see a bathroom, it may have been an outhouse or perhaps I just missed it. They appeared to sleep on the floor. There was a television with the news in Arabic playing. The above picture is of Salman’s grandmother in the house. I was given a glass of Bedouin tea which is highly sugared making it barely drinkable for me (I am not a tea or coffee drinker and can’t stand it). But I wouldn’t dream of refusing something that these kind people, who had opened their house, had offered me so, of course, I drank it.
The visit was brief but I was so grateful for having the chance to meet Salman’s family and to see how they live.
It was time now to jump in a taxi for a four hour ride back to Jordan’s capital, Amman. What a day I had. Once again I pinched myself and remembered how very lucky I was.
