Getting a Jordanian Birth Certificate

I arrived on the road which contains the office which issues birth certificates at about 8am, after dropping Kira & Isaiah at school. I was not sure of the exact building and office to go to. As soon as I got out of my car, I was accosted by one of the many “fixit” guys who hang around trying to find people to help. They know all the offices and requirements on the road and can save a lot of confusion.

Mr Fixit didn't know everything

I had brought along all the paperwork I could possibly need, and first he took me off to the translation office to get an official certified translation of our passports. Then we went to the birth certificate office and was told that we needed a translation of our wedding certificate so we had to go back to the translation office and wait for them to translate it. When we got back to the birth certificate office, a queue had now built up but thankfully it had a post-office style ticket numbering system. Many establishments in Jordan have started using this kind of queueing system, since Jordanian queueing skills are no match for the British.

When my number came up I handed in all the paperwork, but was told that one of the forms needed a stamp from the hospital. “Ethan was born at home!” I told them, but they insisted that I go to our local hospital and get our doctor to stamp it.

Foreign Concept

I drove over to the hospital and they refused to stamp the form, but our doctor made a phone call to someone at the birth certificate office to explain the fully story of our home birth, which is a very foreign concept in Jordan. I returned to the birth certificate office and asked to speak to the man who our doctor had called. He promised me that there was no problem and told me to sit and wait for about an hour. 3 hours later, the birth certificate was ready, just in time for me to go back to pick up Kira and Isaiah from school at 2pm. On the birth certificate it simply states the name “Ethan” since the tradition here is to follow your first name with your father's name then grandfather's name and then family name. We had decided to follow this tradition for Ethan so he is called Ethan Paul John Miles, but it doesn't quite work on the local birth certificate since Paul's middle names are not his father's or grandfather's names! Thankfully when we apply for the British birth certificate and passport they write the name as we state it on the application form. 

Our visitors' last day

It was the final day of the visit of our friends from Cambridge. In the morning I took them to Mount Nebo and decided to try a new SatNav program on the way, but it was rather poor. There seems to be no decent satnav app for Jordan, so it is fortunate that I am married to the human GPS.

Mount Nebo

Mount Nebo was very crowded with tourists, probably on religious tours of both Israel and Jordan. Sadly, we were unable to get a good view of the Promised Land, as usual, due to all the dusty haze. We have never had a good view in all our visits to Mount Nebo. In Moses day it would have been a much greener place, so his view must have been much clearer.

Something I had not noticed before was a copy of the Mesha Stone (the original is in Paris), which is an account of wars against Israel written by a Moabite king, called Mesha. It is very interesting to hear it from the other side's perspective.

Amman Traffic

The journey back to Amman took twice as long due to crazy traffic. We dread to think what the traffic will be like in 10 years' time if the population of Amman doubles to 6 million, as some are predicting.

Later on, I telephoned for a taxi to take our friends to the airport at 6pm. Normally, this taxi company is very good at being on time, but at 6.10, I decided to call them to see where the taxi was. A few minutes later, the taxi came speeding down our one-way street in the wrong direction. The taxi company called to check he was there and he looked a bit stressed about it. It is good to find a Jordanian company that takes punctuality seriously, but they may find that it gets harder to keep to time, if Amman traffic continues to increase.

Mother's Day

Mother's Day in Jordan is on the 21st March. It seems to be highly celebrated. Students even came up to me after my lecture at the university to wish me "Happy Mother's Day"!

The following day was a special celebration at Kira's school. I arrived at the school hall and greeted the mums who were already there. As is the custom, as each new mum arrived, she went round shaking hands and kissing all the other mums!

The children processed into the hall and Kira gave me a little wave as they took their seats on the stage. Then the children stood up and some music played. I soon realised that the other mums had stood up too and I was the only one left sitting down. It dawned on me that perhaps the music was the national anthem so I quickly stood up too!

Kira did really well joining in with the Arabic and English songs for Mother's Day. This was followed by the sports teacher leading the children and the mums in a little "zumba" workout! This was a cross between dancing and exercise and it was fun to see even some of the very conservative mums joining in wiggling their hips!

Kira gave me a special door hanging she had made with a flower and poem. Then we tucked into a fine spread of pizza, hummous, falafel and vegetables, followed by strawberry or chocolate cake. It was interesting that they made such a big celebration of the day!

My last day in Yemen

I woke up in a house which was completely empty except for the things I was bringing back with me and a mattress, which one of the neighbours would collect when I was finished with it. Breakfast was a glass of water and a packet of biscuits.

The plants in our garden have become slightly overgrown in the last year

I spent a couple of hours cleaning the house, waiting for car-buyers to arrive. Eventually, some turned up, but were offering me less than half of what I asking for, thinking that I would have no choice but to accept their offer on my last day. Others admitted on the phone that they did not have the money they had offered, but could give me a lot less. It seems to me that all of them were just playing games with me, wanting to get a bargain at the end of my trip, when they knew that I was out of time. I have heard similar stories from other foreigners who came to sort out their things and sell their cars.

I don't want to play this game

I decided at lunchtime that I didn't want to play this game and went to the local car dealer. I didn't tell him that I was leaving and, initially, I didn't tell him that I was selling our car, having parked it out of sight, down the road. Instead, I enquired about the prices of other cars which were similar to our car, working out a target figure to aim for in my negotiations, allowing for the dealer's need to make a profit.

When I brought my car and asked him what he would give me for it, the first figure he gave me was what I had in mind and he wouldn't increase his offer at all despite my best negotiation efforts, so I accepted his offer.

“Do you have the money here?”, I asked him.

“Yes”, he replied.

We shook hands on the deal and he said, “Let's go get the money from my house.”

Gunfire nearby

I thought his house would be nearby, but he proceeded to drive into an area deep in the un-policed part of town, exactly where I did not want to go. On the way back, we got stuck in traffic in a busy market place and there was gunfire very close to our car. I did not see who fired, but the dealer did not flinch as he drove, and bystanders just watched instead of diving for cover, so I assumed someone must just have been firing into the air.

After concluding our transaction, I asked him to give me a lift home, so that I did not have to get a taxi with that much money in my pocket. Shortly after returning to our house, I was picked up by some friends who live near the airport, along with all my bags.

Finishing on a postive note

That afternoon, I visited Fun City with my friends, which used to be Kira & Isaiah's favourite play area and then we went to the fish restaurant on the sea front- which is the best I have ever been to, anywhere in the world! It was nice to finish my trip on a positive note, instead of the gunfire on the garbage-filled streets being the last image of Aden in my mind before I left.

 Paul at Fun City