What will they find in America?

June 15, 2009

This post is from a blog I kept in 2009 while working in Jordan to conduct a conflict assessment of the country. 

Today was a new day. A busy frantic getting-lost getting-lost again talking asking listening learning seeing going feeling day.

We conducted three interviews, one with a high up politician man in the major Islamic opposition party (IAF), one with representatives from Al Jazeera Amman and one with an English class of Iraqi refugees living in East Amman. Basically West Amman is wealthy and has lots of foreigners and cute cafes and East Amman gets less services, less water, it's where the Palestinian refugee camps are and where many Iraqis live--those who don't have the money that most Jordanians perceive Iraqis to have.

Amman, Jordan

All were interesting interviews, but I was most affected by our trip to East Amman where we'd been told not to go after dark. The streets are narrow and we saw trash on them for the first time in Amman. We drove by one of the refugee areas and there are children in tattered clothing running the streets at sundown, something you NEVER see in West Amman. Everyone in West Amman seems to be wearing the newest Gap and Zara and Adidas. (Clearly i'm exaggerating but it's my impression). We weren't sure what to expect as we drove off into the netherland of East Amman this afternoon at 6, already exhausted from a full day.

After getting lost five or six times (now the standard), we finally were able to meet up with Rami*, an Iraqi who is being resettled in Tennessee in a month, thanks to his help as a “mutarjim”, a translator, for the American army. He hopped in the backseat and instructed us on how to get to Kumiko’s apartment where the English class was being held. I wasn’t sure how on earth they’d expected us to find this place, given the sparse directions we’d been given, but I’ve given up being surprised by the directions in Amman. People seem to assume you’ll just ask around 6-7 times until you find some landmark someone can meet you at. This is the third time we’ve had to resort to this method. I have to say that probably a tenth of our time here in Amman has been spent lost in our Toyota Camry. Poor Israr had to keep rolling down his window to ask "Where is Hashemi?" or "Where is Plaza Mall?" and decipher the cryptic answers for me as I skirted death by crazy driver and dodged people leisurely crossing major roads mid-traffic. 

And who is this Kumiko? We weren't sure. We’d met a Syrian-American guy the week before, doing medical research on refugees, who’d put us in touch with Kumiko. She turned out to be a Japanese woman who’s been living in Jordan for 14 years, speaks Arabic as well as English and hosts English classes in her apartment every night for refugees. She’d invited us to come by tonight and we’d said yes of course, hoping to get some information on the Iraqi experience in Jordan, but knowing we might not have any formal interviews.

We were right about that. But had a much more rewarding experience. And saw a window into the lives of Iraqi refugees in Jordan. Rami led us in and introduced us to the class. I dazzled them with my meager Arabic skills “Ismee Heidi. Ana min Amerka. Sakne fee New York. Ana taliba fee jama’a Columbia, buss sanke fee saef fee Amman.” From that moment I was a celebrity. We then switched over to English as that is after all why they were there. Abdul explained that he was being resettled in Illinois, where his daughters already lived. He’d been rejected once before for resettlement, because of his service in the Iraqi army, even though he’d done work for the Americans, but finally had gotten his papers and now was leaving in five days. Hussein was leaving for North Carolina in 8 days, and Ali for Ohio in a month. Samer and his daughter Aliya were still waiting for resettlement. Rami told us how he’d been angry for a while at how long it took to get his resettlement, even though he’d work for years for the American army, but he said with a grin, “Now I’m leaving in a month for Tennessee, so I’m not angry anymore.”

A focus group

Rami was the teacher for the day, having excellent English skills. During the middle of the class, as students were struggling to pronounce “p” versus “b” (Arabic doesn’t have a “p” sound), I tentatively raised my hand, remembering a trick from my teaching-English days, and offered to help. I was invited up to show them how holding a piece of paper in front of one’s mouth when speaking could demonstrate that when you say “book”, the paper doesn’t move, but when you say “park”, the paper moves with the air from the aspirated P. For the next 20 minutes, I was invited to continue teaching the class, as a guest teacher. We went through “C” words, “D” words (dinosaur was the first suggestion, from eight year old Aliya tagging along with her dad to class), and “E” words. Somehow “era” came up which fortunately an Iraqi woman with excellent English who was helping out the class was able to translate. It was both deeply rewarding to spend time doing hands-on work again, and also heartening to see the work of not only Kumiko, opening her home and giving energy to the places where help was truly needed, but also the comraderie between students, with those who knew English volunteering to teach the class every day. They offer two levels of English as well as men’s and women’s classes. And two hours each day. It’s really a great group. But it was also very depressing for me to think of the lives ahead of these Iraqis, most from Bagdad, but one from Basra and one from a smaller town I’d not heard of, all educated with lives from the past that were no longer possible. I thought of those headed to Ohio, Tennessee, North Carolina. What will they find there? Each are struggling with English and I know Americans aren’t particularly patient when it comes to people who can’t speak English. And I know they’ll face racism and anti-Arab—particularly anti-Iraqi sentiment at times. I’m worried for when Aliya is resettled. Where will she end up? Will her classmates make fun of her accent? Will they call her “the enemy”? I told them that they were going to nice places. And I asked them if they had any questions about America, but they just looked at me with anticipation for what was coming and smiled at me and thanked me for visiting. I do believe my country has many wonderful aspects. And the children of these men will probably live a good life, and will hopefully be fortunate enough to travel to visit their parents’ homeland some day, but it made me incredibly ashamed to represent this “great country” that had bombed their towns, killed their friends and family, and which was now hesitantly opening it’s doors to them only to throw them racial slurs and hard work when they arrive. I know the situation is more nuanced, but the facts remain... Maybe it’s the air tonight, but I’m feeling a bit disappointed in the world. Right before I left, Kumiko said “You study human rights? I need so much help. So many problems. Please come help.”

*all names in the above blog entry have been changed, because I didn’t ask permission to use names in any writing. 

On a separate note: 
Link to an interesting gender study of the small town of Sahab, produced by JOHUD (the Jordanian Hashemite Fund for Human Development): http://www.johud.org.jo/Latest/why-don-t-women-join-the-work-force.html

Self Check-in

June 10, 2009

This post is from a blog I kept in 2009 while working in Jordan to conduct a conflict assessment of the country. 

Three words can sum up how I feel about the project a week into our work here.
Curiosity. 
Frustration. 
Self-doubt.

 I should perhaps first describe our project here in greater detail. The project line is as follows:

 “Along with another graduate student from Columbia University, I am conducting a conflict assessment of Jordan as part of a project with International Solutions Group (ISG), a consulting organization here in Amman, which provides support to development and humanitarian agencies. We will be studying potential triggers of conflict in Jordan as well as current capacities for strengthening peace. The aim of our research is a document that can assist these organizations to work in a conflict sensitive manner.”

 That’s what I send in each email to potential interview subjects. The idea is much more complicated though. Jordan is not an active conflict area, and certainly not an active violent conflict area. Wedged between Iraq and Palestine/Israel (as well as Syria and Saudi Arabia), Jordan is the operating ground of hundreds of INGOS, UN agencies and other development and aid organizations. The idea of our work is to understand all tensions that currently exist in the country and what could trigger them to grow worse, what is being done or can be done to alleviate the tensions, and what are the effects of the large amount of development and aid work on these tensions, for better or for worse. The project was originally explained to me at one point as aimed at reviewing the effect of the INGOs and UN agencies on conflict in Jordan, because they’re focused on, for example, Iraq and are not necessarily mindful of their impact on Jordan. We aim for them to be more aware and act in a “conflict sensitive” manner.

 I can’t even tell when I’m becoming jargony these days, because I’ve said all this so many times.

 So the idea is that we conduct 25-30 interviews and 5-6 focus groups asking a series of 8-10 questions, most of them fairly general such as “Do you believe there are any tensions in Jordan?” If they say yes, we then delve into what they are. If they say no, then we try to probe, asking whether there are any issues related to different social groups or any problems related to the economy. And it hasn’t happened yet that this didn’t lead to identification of most of the following areas of tension: the issue of the Iraqi refugees and the perception that they are causing inflation, tensions between Jordanian-Jordanians and Palestinian-Jordanians, the gap between rich and poor, water scarcity where some villages are without any water at times, and conflicts between tribe and “tribe-like” structures based on regions. These always come up or at least some combination of them along with a few other issues. However, the way in which these are perceived to manifest themselves, the degree of severity and ideas for what could make the situation better or worse have widely varied.

 Now this whole interview process is complicated for many reasons. Firstly, it is often perceived as a strange study for us to conduct, as “Jordan doesn’t have any conflict” is a familiar refrain. So I get the sense that some interview subjects have felt that we are trying to conjure up problems that are not there. Other times the subject has agreed whole-heartedly that there are major problems and alluded to near apocalyptic proportions of the perceived problems. Still other subjects, such as government officials and some UN agencies, appear not at liberty to discuss all the issues, some more transparently unable than others. There seem to be vast misperceptions about the wealth of the Iraqis and the belief that there will be no water problem. Some feel that the country is at risk because of destabilizing factors from Israel and the idea of an “Alternate Plan” for Palestinians (a very touchy subject here in Jordan: the idea that Jordan would become Palestine, leaving Israel free for Israelis, clearly a threatening idea for Jordanians, who are already a minority in their own country, with between 60% and 70% of Jordan being Palestinian.) There is additional sensitivity required as we are looking into the positive and negative effects of international organizations and inter-governmental agencies (like the UN) on the country’s conflict dynamics. However, I must be careful in wording this goal, when speaking to representatives from these organizations, who have put years of their lives into this work, and seem easily put on the defensive.

 How to describe the emotion involved?

 Curiosity.
It’s a tough job, and very taxing. Anthony pointed out before I left that this could be my calling—interviewing for primary research. He said, “Your favorite thing to do is ask questions… and here that’s what you’ll do all day!” I think he might be right. We’re learning some incredibly interesting things. And the challenge is to listen to what they are and are not saying and the way they are conveying information. I’m still learning how best to encourage more out of the subjects and to uncover what they really mean and to delve deeper into their words. I’m fascinated by each respondent, by their opinions, by the differences in their responses, by their understanding of their society. One key to our research is less that we uncover the truth and more that we accurately measure perceptions of the truth as these can be more important than facts. If people believe there to be a problem, this can make the problem reality. Each day is a new adventure and a new organization, office, agency, university.

Each day we see through another’s eyes. It is like looking into a prism. You can’t see directly inside, but you see the reflection from different angles and are able to see just a part.

 I read before coming here that one effective interview method calls for agreement with the subjects answers, as opposed to appearing unbiased. This leads them to feel more comfortable with you and more likely to continue speaking. I find it quite natural to agree with whomever is speaking, as how can I disagree with their opinions of their world? It’s their world after all.

 Frustration. 
It is difficult to balance what I feel our internship organization seeks, what interview subjects want to emphasize and what we feel is important. I feel a bit pulled in various directions. Each person I speak to has an opinion of what is the best way to go about such a study, and on it actual value. We were told by one subject that the study was pointless and we would both discover nothing true because no one would tell us the truth and that our findings would have no impact. I was told by a Jordanian researcher today that I wouldn’t be able to do anything as an outsider who hadn’t read pages and pages of history and politics of the country, that I’d be able to understand nothing. We were told by others that our questions were too broad. We were told by our organization that they were too specific. We are told by some that we’ve chosen a “bad subject” (regardless of the fact that we didn’t actually choose this subject for ourselves). I feel that we can’t do anything right. I often feel I don’t know how to ask the questions in the way such that they can be understood properly. And explaining the research subject and it’s objective has proven to be near impossible. I generally have to explain it three times in different ways, when finally the person understands or at least gets tired of questioning me.

 Despite all this, we seem to be lining up interviews left and right. Our schedule includes nearly two interviews a day, which leaves little room for typing the notes (typically 2-3 hours per interview) and setting up more interview, not to mention reflecting on the information we’ve learned and checking current news to stay up to date with events in the region, that are vital to our interviews. (We were incredibly embarrassed to have an interview subject mention a world news headline that had occurred three days prior and we had no idea.) And then there is the woman who told me the study would be pointless unless I read such and such books (a list of around eight full size academic publications). Sure, no problem, I’ll forgo sleep. Forget the treadmill. Power Hut will have to wait.

 One thing I must say is that people have been incredible hospitable and accommodating. We’ve not had a single local organization refuse our interview request, and only one from an INGO (international NGO) that claimed lack of time. Upon arrival we are immediately asked for our favored drink, usually Turkish coffee is chosen, and water is always brought. We then have been given 1-3 hours of the subject’s time and they have all been quite friendly and accommodating, even though those who were not able to speak freely.

 Self-Doubt.
The woman who wondered what we expected to find given our outsider status and lack of extensive knowledge about the country hit a sore nerve in me. I’d pondered for months before beginning this internship, why on earth I should assume I was qualified to undergo this research. I had finally settled on the idea that as an outsider I might actually be more open to learning the full picture, not having previous biases. I also might have greater access to information, as people might speak more freely to me than they would to a fellow countrywoman.

 And as to my qualifications, never having conducted primary research before, well, they wouldn’t allow me to come and do this if I wasn’t capable, right? Right?

 I am still am doubtful about my place in this context. This country is overrun by foreigners. Their presence is inescapable, particularly in West Amman, where we live. Whole shopping areas cater to Westerns and many restaurants and bars are clearly geared towards expat tastes. I feel my foreign-ness, my Western-ness, my American-ness at all moments. When I step into an interview or focus group, I know how I’m perceived. Or at least I think I do. And I feel that I’m asking these questions, probing for an answer of “Yes! Conflict! Bingo! Eureka!” because that’s the purpose. I’m here to identify areas of conflict. It wouldn’t be much fun to produce a report that says, “Nope. No problems here. Next!” Then again, it’s also clear that it isn’t the case that there is no conflict. I almost feel that if I could start the conversation by recognizing to the subjects that my country has tensions too. My country probably needs an early warning system. Then maybe I could feel less like the headmistress, looking down at my class, wagging a finger, saying, “I know you’ve been fighting again…”

 It’s an interesting place to be in. Speaking with so many people, often Americans like myself, who’ve spent their lives thus far working in development or aid work, moving country to country, or having been in Jordan for the past few years, I feel I’m constantly trying to gauge where I would fit in. Most of them seem deeply jaded, frustrated by the lack of success, the dysfunctional nature of their organization, or their inability to do more. Many seem to have given up trying to connect with the local community outside of their work-life. Many seem content to frequent the expat bars, drinking their worries away. And these are really good people, deeply committed to social justice, to equality, to alleviating poverty, to leveling the world playing field. So who am I to judge? Would I end up this way? And could I live the expat life for years, not two months? And do I want to? What is the impact of this work. I’ve heard it said more than once that the outcome of projects someone’s worked on did more harm than good. Mary Anderson would throw up her hands in distress.

 And from our own work of go-go-go, and observing the fast pace of work at our organization, I can see that well-meaning, truly intelligent and knowledgeable people just don’t have time and resources to look at all aspects of a project. They don’t have time to listen to Jean-Paul Lederach and “Don’t just do something. Stand there.” I feel like I don’t have time to stand there and watch. And they certainly don’t.

Amman, Jordan

I also wonder about my competency as a researcher. Do I ask the right questions? Do I hear the right answers? Do I seek the right interview subjects? Do I get enough information? I often hear the criticism and take it to heart. I’m learning slowly to let it roll off my back but it’s a slow process and the wounds seem to hurt every time. And then we have to go back at it and hope that the response to what we’ve obtained is satisfactory this time.

 Today we went to interview Right to Play, who stated that part of their aim is to create change (greater quality and social inclusion) in youth without them realizing, through working together playing sports. It made me so happy to see the work of their staff and how proud they seemed. I miss working at camp. I miss running the after-school tutoring program. I miss working with youth and working for social justice.