Chapter Four
Eid al-Juloos
عم بدرس محاماه لانو بدي صير محامي
“I’m studying law because I want to become a lawyer.”
I tell my Uber driver, a warm father of four named Faisal. “Ahhh I see . . . but why?”
I begin to explain to him of my family background, about how being a young Muslim in America and the current state of affairs in my country have propelled me into realizing the need for disciplined lawyers from my community, and how I want to be a part of that change, now more so than ever. I tell him of my passion for helping people, in whatever measure I can, especially migrants. My family is made of immigrants and refugees, you see. From Kabul and Lucknow to Karachi and Clifton, Virginia, my family’s entire history has been one of migration, and I know well that migrants are, categorically, amongst the most vulnerable groups in society. This passion, I tell him, has channeled into me wanting to go into the legal field as opposed to academia, which was the hill I thought I’d die on for most of my high school and undergraduate years.
Faisal tells me of how his family fled the coastal city of Yaffa in Palestine to settle in the hills of Amman back in ‘48. He relates, he tells me, to the experience of migration, of not entirely knowing your roots due to historical circumstances well outside one’s control, of not really feeling like you belong anywhere.
“Noble work” Faisal commended, “God grant you success my son” he said, smiling. I replied with humbled thanks, grateful for the vote of confidence given to me by my new acquaintance.
As I got to the office, I couldn’t help but notice that nobody else was milling in or out of the building. Come to think of it, the streets had been relatively empty too, a rather unusual bit of business for a Sunday morning in Amman. I recalled Faisal mentioning something about an Eid al-Juloos and it quickly dawned on me. Today was the commemoration of the 20th anniversary of King Abdullah’s coronation and accession to the Jordanian throne—a national holiday. How could I have been so daft?
International Donors
Laughing at my ignoration, I quickly called another Uber and headed for a coffee shop I used to frequent last year on the other side of town, spending the rest of the day researching for the donor map. I found myself sending emails and making phone calls to various implementing organizations and consulates eager to know current updates on their various projects—a task easier said than done. So far, my findings have educated me more on who is exactly doing what in Jordan. For example Germany, is a huge donor. Implemented by GIZ, a German development agency, most of Germany’s projects in the Kingdom have to deal with water and waste management, education, employment/vocational training, microfinance, and empowering the political participation of women. In addition to the German government, GIZ also works on behalf of the European Union as well. Other notable donors include the UK, Italy, Denmark, Spain, the EU, and, of course, the United States, all of which deal with nearly every aspect of development imaginable in the country.
It made me wonder, what exactly are the roles of donors in our day and age? How exactly can they go about, doing what they do in a more efficient way, if there is one? Many would say that various donor organizations would be better off streamlining their collective efforts, others would say it’d be best if donors were given a freer hand to conduct themselves. No matter the stance, what is widely agreed upon is that the work that donors do is crucial for the aided governments, their organizational infrastructure, and in turn, the civilian populations who stand to benefit the most from the sustained development.
The aim for these projects is ultimately achieving long term, local sustainability in the assisted area. The proverbial teaching a man how to fish, instead of just buying him one, done via capacity building to ensure the longstanding survival of developed institutions. The first step in doing so is coordinating with the host government from the inception of an idea for a project and making sure everyone is on the same page. It is this aspect I have realized is the most crucial. Everyone must be on the same page. A bit here or a bit there, and the entire goal of a project can be put in jeopardy. Something I’ve taken heart in, is how in Jordan, the developmental work I’ve seen thus far has been excellent at this aspect. The groundwork for sustainable development, from decentralization efforts to education, infrastructure, and beyond, is very apparent, and one can clearly see the beginnings, if not advanced stages, of progress of these institutions taking root in the Kingdom.
Mafraq & Preparations
The following day, a fresh pair of contact lenses and a haircut later, I made my way to the office on the first (official) day back. The place was abuzz with people wishing each other well, inquiring about each other’s breaks, and catching up. Everyone seemed so well rested, and energetic—much needed for the amount of work that was to be done in the upcoming days.
The C4 team is currently preparing for the municipal workshop (meeting of the mayors), which is slated to take place next week. The C3 team is busy with preparing for the social media training for municipal heads, along with another workshop some two weeks from now in the south of Jordan focusing on how teaching municipalities how to effectively manage city hall meetings. On Wednesday, I accompanied two members of the C3 team, Fadi and Olaa, to Mafraq, a city an hour and a half north of Amman, right next to the Syrian border. We went to scout an appropriate location for where the social media training could take place, where we met up with the media engagement director for the Greater Mafraq Municipality, a kind woman named Siham. Together, we visited 3 locations before deciding to choose the last one, the development and training center, after a thorough inspection. Fadi told me that Zaatari, the world’s largest Syrian refugee camp, is located some 6 miles east of where we stood in Mafraq. It never gets any lighter on the heart, these somber reminders of the unfortunate circumstances that engulf the region, but they re-emphasize the need for justice, stability, freedom, and development not just in Jordan, but across the region. However dismal circumstances may seem at the present, the future is bright, and I truly believe that.
Getting into our car, we make the drive back to Amman. I take a deep breath, staring out the window at the desert steppe landscape of the Hauran plateau zipping by outside, and brace myself for all the excitement and challenges the next few weeks are to bring.