Berkley Center

Jordan is a wonderfully complex, welcoming country, and I have thoroughly enjoyed my first few weeks here in Amman. It does not take long here, however, to also realize that Jordan is a difficult place to live for many Jordanians. The hot and dry climate, scarcity of resources such as water (Jordan is one of the poorest countries in the world in terms of water), urban crowding, and regional instability influence the way of life here. As one of my instructors so succinctly put it during orientation when describing the Jordanian aversion to smiling, “Life in the desert is hard.” Life in the desert is indeed difficult, and living in this context has opened my eyes to the subtle, commonplace ways in which faith and gratitude in the midst of difficulty are revealed in everyday Arabic phrases. It is fascinating and revealing to hear Arabic spoken in a country in which it is the official language and to draw connections between the lived experience of Jordanians and common linguistic conventions. I have found that certain phrases that I used to view as conversational fillers or strange, perhaps dramatic reactions to everyday happenings actually illustrate a deeper, religious relationship to difficulty.

Religious faith and symbols are ubiquitous in Jordan. I hear the Muslim call to prayer multiple times a day from the window in my apartment. The average Jordanian can tell in a second what religion you practice by your last name, choice of clothing, or social behavior. I expected to experience religion in this way in Jordan, but I did not expect to find deeper meaning in phrases I have heard for years. Of course, anyone who has taken even an introductory semester of Arabic understands the intimate connection between the Muslim faith and the Arabic language. However, what I have observed is not a graduate level analysis of the intricate grammar of the Qur'an, but rather how religious concepts such as gratitude and hope color some of the most common Arabic phrases. 

The phrase “Inshallah” is one of the most widely used phrases in the Arab world and is probably used by the average Jordanian, regardless of religious background, a dozen times each day. Literally, the expression means “God willing.” It is used in a variety of ways to express hope, uncertainty, or at times, simply a polite way to acknowledge something is likely never going to happen. Believe me when I say that everyone, from Jordanian to observant foreigner alike, is in on the joke that oftentimes Inshallah is code for either “it is never going to happen” or “maybe I will get to it three days from now.” For example, after a long day in Jerash exploring Roman ruins, a bus driver informed my group by phone that he would meet us in “Five minutes, Inshallah.” Suffice it to say, he did not arrive within five minutes. When viewed this way, the phrase could almost be perceived as comical. 

However, after living in Jordan for a few weeks and dealing with daily inconveniences brought about by oppressive heat and urban congestion, I realize that, far from being comical, the phrase represents an acknowledgement that many daily events, especially the perilous commute to different parts of Amman, are completely outside of one’s control. One can only make plans tentatively with hope in something beyond oneself for a positive outcome and patience if that outcome is not achieved. This is true everywhere, but it strikes me as particularly relevant in my new environment.

Another favorite phrase of mine is “Na’eeman,” which is said to someone in a congratulatory manner after he or she has showered or gotten a haircut. I have heard the phrase for years and considered it a strange but pleasant ritual. Never before, however, did I consider the phrase in context. Water is a precious commodity in the desert. Therefore, showering is something to celebrate. Just as high levels of urban congestion and limited respect for traffic rules produce patience and hope, scarcity begets gratitude. Both of these phrases came up this week when, the day before water was due to be delivered, I ran out of water in my apartment. When I asked someone in the building if water would be delivered sometime the next day, his response was “Inshallah.” A full day later, after walking around in the heat all day, emerging from the shower with tremendous gratitude, I almost caught myself celebrating with “Na’eeman.”