August 7, 2008

During Ahmed’s three weeks here from Survivor Corps headquarters in DC, he and I had the opportunity to make a second field visit. This time, we went to two of the few prosthesis centers in Jordan that treat the public and met three incredible survivors, all of whom are Iraqi refugees. This blog is about Ali, a 30 year old man who has been a refugee in Jordan for 12 years. He has been an amputee since this time, as well.

Ali has a relatively rare type of amputation: hip-disarticulation, a very serious and severe procedure in which the leg is removed from the hip. Since his amputation, Ali has been confined to a wheelchair. On the day that we met Ali, July 30th, this was hopefully going to change, as he would be trying out his new prosthesis for the first time.

Because of the severity of hip-disarticulation, prostheses for these types of amputations are extremely expensive. Additionally, because of the rarity of this condition, most prosthetists are not adequately skilled in providing such a complex prosthesis as that which is required for such an amputation. Fortunately for Ali, LSN-JO received funding for an Iraqi refugee program and began providing services to these survivors in April 2008. Thus, LSN-JO took up Ali’s case, which meant that they would cover the costs of his new prosthesis and medical visits, as well as provide him with the peer support that is the core of what LSN provides for its survivors.

Although this was a very personal moment for him, Ali wanted me and Shireen (his social worker), two women, as well as Ahmed, to come into the room and watch his first attempts at walking since his amputation. I was nervous at first, feeling a little awkward and embarrassed. But as soon as I saw him standing there, gripping the parallel bars with all his might, his arms and remaining leg shaking from the strain of holding himself up, with the biggest grin spread across his face, all that anxiety fell away and I smiled, laughed even, and held back the tears of joy that were threatening to escape.

After standing for only a few seconds, however, Ali had to sit back down. He became lightheaded as the blood rushed from his brain down to his leg, which he had not stood on since his amputation 12 years ago. But this didn’t stop Ali. After regaining his equilibrium, he was up again, this time taking two or three steps away from his wheelchair before sitting back down again. Ali did this repeatedly for the next 15 minutes as we stood there watching, cheering him on. I will never forget the look of pride that I saw in his face, a look that seemed to represent a renewed belief in himself, in his worth, and in his capability as a human being.

So, what’s next for Ali? It will take him several months to learn how to use his prosthesis and rebuild the strength in his right leg to be able to support himself for an extended period of time, even with a walker. And after that? Get a job? Go back to school? Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. While providing Ali with a prosthesis will provide him with more mobility, Jordan’s infrastructure still presents challenges and obstacles for people with disabilities, particularly lower limb disabilities. For example, Ali mentioned that he has essentially been confined to a small area around his home because none of the public buses in Amman are wheelchair-accessible. Having been on one of these buses myself, I can tell you that they’re not exactly handicap-accessible either, having high steps to climb onto the bus and always being extremely crowded (and thus, not having room for an individual with a walker and who will require a seat). Additionally, most, if not all, of LSN-JO’s survivors who live in Amman live in East Amman, which is where the city was originally founded. This area of Amman is old and simple things like sidewalks, which are so dilapidated and uneven, become considerable hindrances for individuals with lower limb disabilities. What’s more, East Amman was built upon seven hills, which one must either walk up and down or climb the numerous stone and cement stairways that are scattered throughout the hillsides. All of this poses a problem for someone in Ali’s situation.

Unfortunately, not much is currently being done about issues such as these. Although Jordan was one of the first nations to sign the United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities, not much progress has been made in putting it into action. I must say, however, that the Jordanian government is very supportive of organizations and programs that work with individuals with disabilities. It’s just that the types of programs it likes to support are things like sports teams and the integration and inclusion of individuals with disabilities into society. While these are great programs, the government should also be focusing on such things as infrastructure and accessibility. Because, I mean, it’s kind of hard to go out into your community or get to your volleyball game if you can’t travel down the sidewalk or access the public bus.

I noticed this wheelchair ramp at the Citadel, a tourist site in downtown Amman. I found it amusing, yet discouraging at the same time, because as soon as one were to get to the bottom of the ramp, he/she would be unable to progress further, having to face uneven ground and openings in the path that are not wide enough for a wheelchair to fit through.

Suraya is a beautiful and shy 21-year-old cancer survivor whom I had the pleasure of meeting at the youth summer camp organized by LSN-JO. I never imagined that three weeks later I would be sitting in Suraya’s parents’ living room with her, her mother, Shireen (Suraya’s LSN social worker), Ahmed (Network Partnership Manager from LSN (Survivor Corps) headquarters in DC), and Majdi (Suraya’s Outreach Worker). Ahmed was here for three weeks assisting LSN-JO with the localization process, and he wanted to visit some survivors in order to gauge their involvement with the organization.

Suraya got cancer when she was 14 years old. She was taken out of school, provided with chemotherapy treatments, which resulted in the loss of her hair, and eventually had to have her right arm amputated. As if all of this was not hard enough, Suraya has an identical twin sister, whose health made her daily struggle with bitterness, anger, and sorrow even more challenging.

Fortunately, Suraya is blessed with a loving and supportive family, as well as with the assistance and support of LSN-JO. Both Suraya and her mother explained how Suraya’s involvement with LSN-JO has helped her to become more confident in herself and to overcome the negative feelings she had during those difficult years. In this sense, Suraya exemplifies what is known as “post-traumatic growth” – in essence, a beautiful paradox in which trauma survivors mature and develop in positive and meaningful ways despite the tragedy they have experienced.

With the support of LSN-JO, Suraya has triumphed over numerous adversities, not least of which is the conquering of those negative thoughts and feelings. Another major achievement has been the slow, yet continual breaking down of the gender barrier. Suraya comes from a traditional Muslim family, and she and her sisters are not allowed to engage in certain activities outside of the house, such as working, without their father’s permission. However, because of the work that LSN-JO has done with Suraya and her family, her father has come to trust the organization and allows Suraya to participate in LSN-JO activities and events on a regular basis, even those that would place her in the company of members of the opposite sex. The summer camp four weeks ago is a prime example; even Suraya’s 16-year-old sister was permitted to attend the camp. A second example is Suraya’s involvement in a cancer survivor group that meets on a monthly basis to discuss their experiences, feelings, difficulties, and successes. During our visit, Suraya expressed how much she enjoyed the cancer survivor group and how she was proud to be able to help others throughout their recovery process. Participating in these and other activities has enabled Suraya to grow not only as a cancer survivor, but also as a strong, beautiful young woman in a strict, male-dominated society. While she may not be completely convinced that she is a “super survivor,” there is absolutely no doubt in my mind.

Well, the article in the Baton Rouge, LA newspaper, The Advocate, that I mentioned a few weeks ago finally came out. You can read it here.

I am not completely happy with the article. I feel that it is not a very good representation of the work that I am doing this summer and the work that LSN-JO does as an organization. While the article mentions general statistics about LSN as a whole, it merely skims through what LSN-JO is doing in Jordan. I would have loved for the article to mention the hard work that LSN-JO has put into the drafting of the United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities. Additionally, LSN-JO has done tremendous work in providing opportunities for survivors to reintegrate into their communities. Some examples of these opportunities include a national sitting volleyball team, annual summer camps, peer support groups, and workshops to which survivors are invited to share their personal experiences.

My job this summer has been (and continues to be) to work side-by-side with LSN-JO staff to creatively and effectively disseminate information about the work that they do. I am currently working on a wikipage, which is essentially a free website, for the organization. Although it is still “under construction,” you can visit it here . I have also been working with the staff on ways they can display the numerous photos they have accumulated over the years. Right now they are just sitting in computer files, unable to be viewed by anyone outside of the organization. Recently, I had the opportunity to visit 3 survivors (one of whom you will hear more about in an upcoming blog), and there are plans to visit the Iraqi refugees sometime next week. Other, less exciting, things I have been doing include editing some English-language documents, discussing nonprofit management issues, and attending meetings conducted entirely in Arabic.

While I have not been as productive this summer as I had hoped (largely due to the localization process), I am nonetheless happy with my decision to spend my entire summer here in Jordan. I have made many new friends (oh, that reminds me…while I am somewhat embarrassed by the journalist’s comment that I didn’t have many friends, I am not going to make any rash outbursts and try to defend myself. Those of you who know me know that while I was shy growing up, I had friends and had a very close network of loved ones.) and have thoroughly enjoyed being able to experience and learn about this beautiful country and its beautiful people.

If only I had more spare time so I could look for and obtain a job to be awaiting my return home!! Eek!

Sorry I've been MIA for awhile. I’ve had a lot going on over here. First, my parents flew in on June 24th to visit me for a week. I gave them a whirlwind tour of Jordan, visiting Petra, Wadi Rum, Aqaba, the Dead Sea, Madaba, Mt. Nebo, Bethany Beyond the Jordan, and Lot’s Cave. In the process I exhausted not only them, but myself as well!

My parents and I riding camels through the Wadi Rum desert in Jordan

Then, on July 2nd, the day after my parents left to return to the States, I traveled to Ajloun, about an hour northwest of Amman, for a youth summer camp that LSN organized. I didn’t return from the camp until late Saturday afternoon.

Every summer, LSN-JO organizes a summer camp for its survivors. This year, the camp’s theme was disability, youth, and social development. Both LSN youth survivors from around the country and youth from a private high school in Amman were invited to participate in this year’s camp. The objective was to use a community service approach to facilitate the youth’s engagement with each other and in their communities. By employing a strategy of self discovery and focusing on the youth’s abilities rather than disabilities, the camp’s goal was to promote social inclusion and an appreciation of the youth’s similarities and not their differences.

While the camp was organized by LSN-JO, the activities were conducted by the American Friends Service Committee’s (AFSC) Palestinian office, with assistance from volunteers from AFSC’s Jordan office, older LSN survivors, and the alumni club of the private school whose students were attending the camp. Other entities that LSN partnered with to make the camp possible were the Higher Council for Youth, Greater Amman Municipality, Ministry of Tourism, and Al Rabad Castle Cooperation.

As the theme of the camp was social inclusion, I could tell from the moment I arrived at the Jordan Paralympic Committee building, where we all departed for Ajloun as a group, that the camp leaders and facilitators would have their work cut out for them over the next 4 days. In every corner of the room sat a different clique, each made up of either only youth with disabilities or youth without disabilities. Even some of the facilitators and volunteers, those who were supposed to be mentors and leaders, had formed their own groups, not bothering to initiate any new relationships.

And then there was me, with my practically non-existent Arabic-language skills. As soon as I walked inside I felt like I was in freshman year of high school all over again – that feeling of being the only person who doesn’t know anyone. Only this time, it was pretty much true; the only people I knew were the 2 LSN employees, and they were busy getting everything under control so that we could be on our way. However, my fears of having unintentionally imposed a 4-day vow of silence upon myself by choosing to attend this camp were soon quelled as one of the Palestinian AFSC employees sat down at my table and began talking to me. Soon, his colleagues joined him and I had quickly made some new friends.

After getting settled at the camp, the youth were divided into 4 groups, each of which had one AFSC leader and 2 or 3 volunteers to help facilitate. The group activities focused on the youth getting to know each other (as well as themselves), recognizing the similarities among the group members, and realizing that they are capable of accomplishing much more than they expected. At first, it seemed as though nothing the leaders did was getting through to the youth – they just were not interested in anything other than the friends they already knew. As soon as the group activities ended, the youth would immediately revert back to their original cliques. However, as each day passed, they grew more and more comfortable with each other. By the last day they were sitting, talking, and playing together during free time.

Two camp participants, one non-disabled student from Amman (left) and one LSN survivor from Zarqa (right), getting to know each other

The other major activity of the camp was a community service project. Not far from the camp was a dirty, run-down park with dilapidated playground equipment, rocks and weeds where sand should have been, and trash and cigarette butts everywhere. The youth were tasked with cleaning up and rehabilitating the park so that it would be more suitable for children and families, particularly those with disabilities. I was skeptical at first as to how much work these kids would actually do, but they seriously impressed me with their enthusiasm and dedication to the project. I was so proud of them. And I could tell that they were proud of themselves for accomplishing their goal and being able to see that the local children (as well as a number of camp participants) were enjoying the revitalized park.

LSN survivors enjoying a swing at the park.

Camp participants working together to rehabilitate the park.

Yesterday, I had my very first interview with a real journalist! Ed Cullen , a features writer for my hometown newspaper The Advocate and a contributor to NPR’s All Things Considered, interviewed me about the work I’m doing this summer with Landmine Survivors Network in Jordan. He asked many poignant and thought-provoking questions, some of which I wasn’t even able to answer! But, I don’t think I did too bad.

The article will be published both in print and online, although I don’t know when. I will keep you all posted. In the meantime, I’m off to the field to visit some survivors!

A camera crew came into the LSN office yesterday. This was the second camera crew to visit the office since I’ve been here. Needless to say, I was intrigued and just had to know what was going on, so I asked the Executive Director. He told me that this crew was from the Jordanian Government’s Public Security Directorate (PSD), which is basically the police department and is responsible for the country’s internal security. While I don’t know all the details, I was able to gather that the PSD has these television programs, probably similar to an extended public service announcement, which are designed to inform citizens of public security issues and motivate them to refrain from participating in deviant and dangerous behavior.

The PSD had come to the office yesterday to film a scene for one of these television programs. This particular show was focusing on a very prevalent problem in Jordan: aerial gunfire, or shooting guns in the air as a form of celebration (for more information and to read related news articles, please visit http://www.iansa.org/regions/aerial-gunfire.htm). In an effort to inform the public about the dangers of this act and the tragic effects it can have on individuals and families, the PSD was filming people who have been personally affected by falling bullets.

At LSN, that person is R, the receptionist. While I do not know her story, I do know that she lost her left arm just below the shoulder due to a wound from a shotgun that was shot in celebration of some event. R is a beautiful, funny, and cheerful young woman, who every day straps on a passive prosthetic arm, which has no movement or functional capacity. What struck me the most while watching R performing her lines was that even this woman, who is surrounded by caring and supportive family, friends, and coworkers and embodies strength and courage daily, is still so easily vulnerable to the pain and heartache that accompany such an injury. This became apparent when she began crying in the middle of her scene – and it wasn’t simply an overly-dramatic performance as upon completing the scene she left the room and returned a few minutes later with red eyes. But with the support of the LSN staff, R was back to her jovial self in no time. That, to me, is what LSN is all about – encouragement, friendship, dependability, and respect. And I like that.

Things are finally starting to pick up. I’ve been here for 2 weeks now, and I just got my work plan signed today. The LSN-JO office has been having a Monitoring and Evaluation (M&E) training since my second day at work, which has tied up my main point of contact in the office, who is both the Executive Assistant and the M&E Officer. For the purpose of confidentiality, I will simply refer to her as D. Last week, D was able to take a short break from the training and we sat down with the Executive Director (ED) to discuss my work plan. It turned out really great as they were both really excited about the services that AP provides and what I would be able to help them with. It was very uplifting to know that they are excited that I am here to work with them. Unfortunately, it took another week to get the work plan signed, but as soon as that happened this morning, we began moving forward.

In other news, I had a great weekend. There are two staff members from LSN headquarters in DC here conducting the M&E training, and the three of us decided to do a little sightseeing over the weekend. On Friday we went to Jerash, which is about a 30 minute drive north of Amman. It’s described as one of the best-preserved Roman cities in the Middle East, being formed much as it stands today during the first century AD. The picture below is from Jerash, but to see more go to my Flickr account at http://www.flickr.com/photos/ksirman/.

On Saturday we were joined by an employee of LSN-JO, who took us all over the place. First we went to the Dead Sea. Although we went to the public beach, we got there early enough that it wasn’t crowded and there weren’t many onlookers to stare at us girls in our Western-style swimsuits (even though they were one-piece and we wore shorts over them). This was quite an amazing experience. It is simply fascinating how you can be standing in hip-deep water and you are struggling to keep your feet on the ground!

Unfortunately, being in the water isn’t as relaxing as it might seem because of how hard you have to concentrate and hold your head up to avoid getting the salty water in your eyes. If this happens, you’re basically done for and have to get out and rinse off. Nonetheless, having this experience is definitely worth five minutes of burning, salt-splashed eyes.

After showering all the salt off of us, we went to a sitting volleyball tournament hosted by the Jordan Paralympic Committee. It’s called “sitting” volleyball because all the players have either leg amputations or disabilities and are thus sitting on the floor to play. To accommodate them, the net is lowered and the playing area is decreased.

I was in absolute amazement at how quickly these men were able to maneuver around on the floor with only their hands, chasing after the ball and giving each other high-fives and slaps on the back. And the best part about it was that they were all having a great time. It was definitely inspiring to observe how much fun they were having and how normal they felt, especially knowing that they were there that day because they crossed paths with a landmine or were in a terrible car accident or lost their limb(s) to cancer or diabetes or were simply born that way.

Fortunately, the Jordanian government has disability laws in place and has ratified the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities. There are also several government-supported entities that work on the rights of people with disabilities (PWD). These include the National Committee for Demining and Rehabilitation, the Higher Council for the Affairs of Persons with Disabilities, and the National Centre for Human Rights. With the recent entry into force of the UN Convention on May 3, 2008, these and other organizations, governmental and non-profit, throughout Jordan have begun working on strategies for supporting the implementation of the Convention and developing action plans for incorporating it into their current services. I feel very lucky to be working on disability rights issues in Jordan at this moment in time as this topic is at the forefront of the national agenda.

Sunday, June 1

I have been in Amman for 4 full days now, and I’m still feeling quite overwhelmed. Normally it does not take me this long to acclimatize to a new place, but for some reason Amman makes me apprehensive. I think it’s mostly the language barrier. While I do not speak any Arabic, many Jordanians do speak English. But, the taxi drivers not so much. And that’s the source of my angst, as you must drive everywhere in this city and I have no idea where anything is yet. Prime example: I finally found an apartment, which I’ll be sharing with a woman about my age. Our search yesterday consisted of driving around town and anytime we’d spot a “for rent” sign, we’d stop and call the number. We did this for about 2 hours. In the end, the place we found is awesome, but I have absolutely no idea where it’s located!

Tuesday, June 3

Well, I have settled in to my new home. I went grocery shopping yesterday and spent way too much money (things are pretty expensive here). When I got home and unloaded everything I thought, “Where’s all the food?!” While I did buy some non-food necessities like toilet paper and shaving cream, with all the money I spent, the amount of food I got was a bit disappointing.

Speaking of disappointing...the scenery in Amman. At least in West Amman, which is what the more modern section of the city is called. I haven’t made it downtown yet, where there are more interesting things to see such as the Citadel, a Roman amphitheatre, and other archaeological ruins. But in West Amman, where I work and live, my surroundings are so disappointingly uninspiring that I haven’t even had the urge to take a single photograph. Now that I’m finally settled here, I can’t wait for the weekend so that I can go explore downtown and other interesting areas of my new home, and share all of my experiences and photos with all of you!

I was hired in August as The Advocacy Project’s (AP) Fellowship Intern. From the time of my interview for that position, in which Amy, the Fellowship Coordinator, described the Fellowship program in detail, I knew I wanted to be an AP Peace Fellow the following summer. Well, that summer has arrived, and tomorrow I leave for Amman, Jordan, where I’ll be working with Landmine Survivors Network (LSN).

As I sit here trying to put all my thoughts and feelings about this summer into words, the only thing that makes it to the surface is just how excited I am! For those of you who have seen me in the past week, you may not have been convinced of my genuine excitement. But there are two very good reasons for that! First, I don’t think it has truly hit me that within two days’ time I will be in one of the most beautiful, welcoming, and exotic countries in the world. And, for that matter, that I’ll get to spend 3 months there! While this is not my first taste of a majority Muslim country (I spent 3 weeks in Bangladesh conducting research for my Master’s Capstone Project), I imagine that my expectations, which are based on my short stint in Bangladesh, will be awry in the context of Jordan. In any case, I’m fully prepared for the inquisitive (and at times lascivious) stares, the language barrier (unfortunately I don’t speak Arabic, but I’m going to try to learn!), and the conservative (one could say oppressive) attitude towards women.

Second, and this is probably related to the first reason, I am utterly exhausted. Probably not the best thing in the world considering how much work (and fun) I have ahead of me. But it’s not my fault, I promise! Ever since I completed my studies on May 7th, I feel as though I’ve been on auto pilot. I had to prepare for graduation, my family came in town (and stayed until two days ago), my car was totaled as it sat parked on the street and I’ve been dealing with the aftermath of that, and I’ve attended 3 full days of training for my Fellowship. Oh, and I just finished packing for my trip. So, needless to say, I am already exhausted and my journey hasn’t even begun. I honestly think I’m running on sheer excitement, anxiety, and an odd paradox of eagerness and apathy.

Before I sign off, I just wanted to let all of you who are reading this know that this is the first blog I’ve written and, while it was quite intimidating writing something that I knew would be broadcast to the entire world, I have enjoyed the exercise. I also wanted to say a quick “THANK YOU!” to all the people who are supporting me in this endeavor, whether it has been through donations, prayers, or simply reading this blog (and the many more that are to follow). I really appreciate all the encouragement!