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

Christmas Eve

We woke up, excited about Christmas Eve, for two reasons. Kate was going to the police station armed with her residence permit to finally get it stamped into her passport, then later, we were having a  Christmas party for all our friends.

Kate arrived at the police station, which was quite crowded and, after some time managed to speak to the right person about the visa. She was very disappointed to be told that first she must go to the  ministry of interior to get the work permit, despite being told by the  university that the residence permit she had been issued should be enough to get the residence visa stamped into her passport.

This process has been frustrating for Kate, who normally likes to know exactly is going to happen, in what order and what she needs to bring, but no one has been able to tell her these things. The communication & organisation at the university is not very good and Kate will need to learn to adapt, if she is to avoid pulling all her hair out!

Kate came back and we began preparations for the party. Kate's mum had made lots of mince pies, with homemade mincemeat, since it is not available here. We also had mulled fruit juice, not wine, since some of the party guests would be Muslims. Kate made some amazing penguins with olives, cream cheese and carrots, which a friend of ours had spotted on a Facebook page. Isaiah went around telling everyone, "These penguins are from Facebook.", even though he has no idea what Facebook is.

We had invited about 30 people to the party but, sadly, some of our friends were unable to come. In the end, about 20 people came, which was about the right amount for the size of our lounge.

We had a lot of fun playing "pin the nose on the snowman", "guess how many sweets are in the kettle", "guess what's in the socks" and of  course, the chocolate game. All of these games were new to our Jordanian friends.

It was a great opportunity for us to strengthen our friendships, and also, some of our friends met each other for the first time.

Ladies swimming morning

After 2 "service" rides (set-route taxis) and walking through a few back streets we arrived at our destination - "The World of Exercise"! I had come with my neighbour to the swimming baths that she has frequented for the past 20 years. Apparently it is one of the oldest swimming baths in Amman. We descended the steps and were greeted by a rather large lady in a rather ill-fitting swimming costume! This was the first of a range of attire I encountered- bikinis, cycling shorts over swimming costumes, cycling shorts under swimming costumes, t-shirts and leggings, and a set that looked like pyjamas plus swimming caps!!

Ladies' sink or swim session

From 9am - 1pm was for ladies only, girls were also allowed but not boys. After changing we headed for the main pool which was about 25 m long. My neighbour was very proud that she could swim, although my breaststroke was faster than her attempted front crawl! But she was much better than the other ladies we saw splashing around. There was a Ukrainian lady giving a swimming lesson to 5 of the ladies.

Luxurious but scruffy at the same time

Everyone was very friendly and we chatted to all the other ladies there, either in the very hot jacuzzi, lovely warm power shower pool, sauna or steam room. It sounds like a luxurious place but it needed a bit of touching up to the paint work and I was a little horrified to see 2 big dead cockroaches in the power shower pool!!

Holy Massage

The large lady in the ill-fitting swimming costume was the masseur and I had a very relaxing back massage for only 5 pounds! It was the first time I've ever had a massage begin with the lady saying "In the name of God, the most gracious, the most merciful"!

By 1pm we quickly changed and were shooed out before the men arrived for their time slot.

Tact vs Principles

In the afternoon, after visiting a local friend with the children, a doctor telephoned me. She works at the university and was going to send my CV to any relevant people at the university. She explained that she needed to have a telephone interview for a university fellowship in 2 weeks and bluntly asked if I could do the interview for her! I was amazed at her request and tried to answer tactfully "no". In this culture, people expect you to help them in anyway that you can, especially if they are helping you. Therefore to say "no" can be very rude. So I explained that I could help her with her English before the interview but couldn't pretend to be her!

A day in Jordan, compared with Yemen

More People Speak English in Jordan

"Clap, clap and shout hooray, Kira's here today!" - everyone was made to feel welcome as we sang all the children's names at playgroup. We'd helped to set up all the toys beforehand together with2 other foreign mums and then enjoyed meeting 8 local mums and their children. The children loved playing with the different things, singing songs, making coloured pasta necklaces for craft and had a snack time, whilst the mums relaxed a bit with a cup of tea and lemon drizzle cake that I'd made! It was good to talk with the Jordanian mums, mostly in English as they like an opportunity to practise.

Kira and Isaiah at playgroup

Working Mums

Playgroups are a new concept in Jordan, with few groups, but in Yemen they are non-existent. This one was on Saturday morning which is the 2nd day of the weekend here and interestingly most of the mums were middle class and working during the week. They valued the opportunity to spend time with their children in a fun, creative and safe environment. In contrast, most Yemeni women stay at home to look after the (many) children, clean the house and spend about 3 hours cooking lunch.

Driving Standards are Better than Yemen, but that's not saying much!

We jumped into a taxi home which was driven by a slightly crazy taxi driver. When we came to Jordan back in 2003 we thought the driving was very crazy compared to UK but, this time round, we think it's quite good compared to Yemen. We've been amazed to see people giving way at roundabouts and using their indicators.




Timekeeping is just as bad in Jordan as in Yemen

We waited and waited and wondered what to do! We'd invited our neighbour for dinner at 6pm but at 6:20pm she texted to say that she was sorry she was late and would be with us in 20 minutes. By 7pm the children were getting hungry so I telephoned her and she said she was 10 minutes away. She thought we would have started eating without her, rather than waiting! Finally over an hour and 15 minutes late, she arrived for dinner!

People have pets in Jordan

It was a wonderful time with our neighbour and worth the wait. The children were able to pop next door and stroke the neighbour's cat. It isn't so strange to have pets in Jordan and there's quite a few pet shops, near our house, selling birds and fish. In Yemen, cats and dogs are considered too dirty to allow in the house.

Health and Safety is Just as Bad as Yemen

Paul left dinner early to go out to watch the Champions League final with friends at one of the hotels. Just as in Yemen, everyone in Jordan seems to support Barcelona, so were very pleased with the result. The standard of technical competence amongst the hotel staff and the level of health and safety standards were all too familiar to Paul in comparison to Yemen. One of the projectors was not getting the TV signal, so they turned the screen round to enable all the spectators to see the other one. There was quite a high wind, which threatened to blow the screen over and knock the projector into the swimming pool. The spectators sat on the other side of the pool - perilously close to it. We hoped that no-one would leap up to celebrate too enthusiastically and fall into the pool, and that this would not happen at the same time as the projector falling in. Thankfully, the match finished with no electrocutions and everyone except the few Man Utd supporters went home happy.