In Other Parts of the World...

One of my favorite literary characters, Dr. Larch from John Irving's The Cider House Rules keeps a journal about St. Cloud's, a fictional rural New England village in Maine (probably?). He begins every entry with the same phrase: "In other parts of the world..." the implication being that St. Cloud's does not quite live up to the same standards. This is a useful phrase when it comes to describing things in Jordan, and the Middle East generally. It comes to mind when I see some of the ideas Jordanians have imported from other places and missed the point when it comes to implementation.

My favorite example is the trees on the sidewalk.

In other parts of the world, trees line sidewalks in cities and suburban neighborhoods. Sometimes people have built their cities around these trees, which once stood as part of a majestic forest. Other times people plant trees along the sidewalks to provide shade for the occasional stroll around the neighborhood; for children to climb; for dogs to alleviate themselves; for general aesthetic pleasure.

In Jordan, we also have trees on the sidewalks. Now, normally the sidewalks here would only be wide enough to walk three abreast. This is fine, but somewhere along the line Jordanians got confused about the concept of trees and this makes my life difficult. Here is a conversation I envision between the people who's decision it was to plant trees on the sidewalks in Jordan:

"We need to plant trees on the sidewalks"
"Why?"
"I don't know. People do that, I've seen it before"
"Okay, what trees do we plant?"
"Uh, that one"
In fact, I'm a little skeptical about the last two lines of that conversation. It probably stopped at "plant trees"

You see, in other parts of the world, trees have a long trunks and branches up above. They sit at the edge of the sidewalk and you can comfortably enjoy the shade of their branches and the company of your friends walking beside you.

In Jordan, there are two main types of trees, uncomfortably short palm trees and Christmas-shaped trees. Now you might think, "Yay! Christmas trees! Palm Trees! Pretty!" I disagree. Walking along the sidewalk in Jordan is like trekking through a confusing rain forest, one where coniferous trees miraculously sprouted along side date palms. Now, most of the Christmas trees have expanded so that their base covers the entire sidewalk. Several times I have actually had to step into them and climb out again (come on, there are cars in the street!).

The palm tree branches, on the other hand, are conveniently located at eye level.. for me... I am 5 feet, 4 inches tall. To top things off, these trees are planted about three feet apart, so when you stumble back after fishing your sandal out of the Christmas tree, a palm branch inevitably gouges out your eye. I presently have two scratches on my forehead, one on my cheek and a ripped shirt collar from these violent trees. (Okay, its acne but I'm serious about the shirt and the scabs really could be from trees, people totally believe me when I tell them that).

Sometimes i daydream about hacking through those trees with a machete. And then sometimes I find a cool stick in the road and I lunge at the branches all "AHH!" And then my three friends start walking more quickly and I have to jog after them (but not too quickly, there are trees in the way). Now you may ask, "hey, why don't you walk in the street like everyone else?" Well, Negative Nancy, there are two things I strongly believe in: one is safety and the other is complaining.

#1 - There are cars in the street, and I no longer react to honking the way that I should. When I hear honking, I usually respond to the car with "thank you, yes I do have breasts" or when I'm in a particularly good mood I throw up the middle finger. This is a little counterproductive when "beep beep" actually means "I'm going to hit you," and not "hey, I like your ass." Now I'd say 97% of the time the latter is applicable, yet this does not help me very much when one of those other 3 cars kills me.

2. What good are funny trees if I can't complain about them? This is my theory about most inconveniences in life. I love wrestling with their branches and squeezing by them with my back against some stranger's fence. You may say this is because I am starved for attention and yes, that is true. There are baby videos of me jumping up and down in front of the camera while my parents try to tape my little sister playing the piano or something equally uneventful. But regardless, I appreciate those trees for who they are and aside from wanting to chop them up with a machete isn't that what we should all do, just get along?