Jordanian Hospitality

This door opened up a great opportunity for us by refusing to open. To explain...Geda's mom, who lives behind this door in a tastefully furnished apartment in Western Amman, generously offered to cook lunch for our group of 12. We were famished, having had a full afternoon of misconnections that led us to this: it was after 2 p.m., and we still hadn't eaten lunch. We'd made two unsuccessful attempts to buy soda for the luncheon...we couldn't find a working ATM!

We passed the U.S. embassy (Saleem, our driver, reminded us to hide our cameras because armed sentries sometimes demand to have photos confiscated), complete with tanks. At last, we arrived at Geda's mother's apartment building. Her mom was so happy to see us, she stood on her third-story balcony, waving a white kitchen towel. Her maid, Cynthia, was returning from a quick run to the neighborhood market for the soda. All 12 of us headed upstairs as Geda's mom rushed out to the elevator to greet us. She was excited about hosting us, and headed to her door to let us in. That's when she realized that in her excitement, she'd locked herself out! Cynthia grabbed her own bunch of keys, only to find that in the rush of buying the soda, Geda's mom had given her the wrong set.

The neighbors, curious about all the voices across the hall, opened their door. Geda's mom used their cell phone to call the building manager, and in the meantime, the 17-year-old daughter of the neighbor's family invited us inside. We declined twice, then politely headed inside. Her mother hastily put on her hijab (it had been draped over a dining room chair), and soon we were drinking Turkish coffee and chatting about education.

But the most interesting tidbit? People frequently lock themselves out in this building, so there's a man who started a dangerous side business to solve the problem. He asks the neighbors above to let him on their balcony, hooks a rope onto it, and drops down to the lower balcony a la Spiderman. Once there, he walks into the apartment and opens the door. "Very dangerous," our hostess assured us, clasping her hands in front of her and nodding her head.

Turns out Spiderman wasn't needed. Cynthia had the right keys all along. Mawiyah was wise enough to suggest trying every key on the set, and it worked.

Geda's mom's food had grown even more flavorful during the wait, and we enjoyed a delicious meal of stuffed zucchini and eggplant, a saag-like spinach dish, rice mixed with vermicelli, rich tomato broth, and stuffed grape leaves.