side walking in Amman
Before we left for Amman, we e-mailed a few families with younger children and questioned whether the double jogger stroller we planned to buy would be appropriate for city walking. Steve had mentioned that Jordanians tended to plant trees in the middle of sidewalks and so we wanted to get a second opinion before we invested another arm and leg in the aforesaid baby vehicle. The response was the same- that it would be better not to get a stroller that wide and bulky. We opted for a smaller version with big wheels and hoped for the best.
In America, we assume that the construction of sidewalks is primarily, if not chiefly, for safety and ease of pedestrian travel(especially in cities). In America, form and function, practicality and usefulness, are important qualities. To say that cleanliness (orderliness!) is next to godliness is not a stretch, but a proverb well-grounded in our culture.
After spending a month in Amman, I feel it is safe to say that sidewalks in Amman have little to do with practicality or function. There is little continuity of form or uniformity in appearance. Steve was absolutely correct in saying that Jordanians plant trees in the middle of sidewalks. We are not talking about those exceptional times when a hundred year old live oak needs to be preserved by constructing a road or sidewalk around it. I have seen evergreen topiaries (large bases cut into a corkscrew at the top, Dr. Seuss-esqe), Saw Palmettos (reminiscent of FL!), and other ornamental trees given center stage in the middle of a lovely paved sidewalk. In one instance, the tree had begun to push up the pavers around it. In most instances, the trees have grown to large around the base that a pedestrian is forced to step off the sidewalk and into the road. This is almost always at the peril of the pedestrian, as cars are usually parked on either side of the street and moving traffic seems to obey no limits on speed or pedestrian rights.
Another feature that I've noticed is a rather high and steep decline where a sidewalk intersects a driveway. Thankfully, as I mentioned earlier, we opted for the "monster truck" wheels. So Hanna only hangs forward out of her stroller a small bit when we come down off a sidewalk.
The adjustment to life is laden with countless thought processes in which I realize an expectation, hold it up next to the reality of what I encounter in this new place, then face a decision about whether to stay with my previous reality or accept this new one. It would be easier if the new reality included something that fit within my comfort zone. However, as in the case of the sidewalks, I keep falling back on the overarching reality that I have four children, two of which are very small and rather vulnerable. The other two are relatively independent, though one tends to hop, skip and veer off in frequent distraction. This results in my stress level being raised out of my normal comfort range every time we walk somewhere. It also means that I yell more often: "Stop! Now go--fast--stay together everyone! Watch out for the car! Get out of the road! Stop smelling the flowers, let's go!!"
Sigh.
A new friend suggested that we go to the Children's Museum together. I thought it was a great idea, since my kids have seen a lot of the inside of our house lately. She offered to drive us, since our minivan is somewhere in transit. She also has four children and a helper. We counted up the number of people that would need to fit into her seven passenger van: 11.
"The only ones who really need car seats are Hanna and Josephine (her 20 month old," she says casually as we make arrangements over the phone.
I have visions of the other six chidren, ranging in ages from 3 to 9, piled on laps and in the aisles of the car as my friend swerves in and out of Jordanian traffic. Oh, and did I mention that Ramadan just started on Monday, which means that Jordanian drivers are tired, hungry, thirsty and nicotene-deprived?
Sigh.
Sidewalks are not the only thing I need to adjust to here in Amman, but it is a start. I keep hoping that the more I walk with the kids, the more I will adjust to the weaving in and out, up and down from the high curbs, enjoying the scenery. The sidewalks may not be the epitome of urban planning, but they sure are beautiful.
In America, we assume that the construction of sidewalks is primarily, if not chiefly, for safety and ease of pedestrian travel(especially in cities). In America, form and function, practicality and usefulness, are important qualities. To say that cleanliness (orderliness!) is next to godliness is not a stretch, but a proverb well-grounded in our culture.
After spending a month in Amman, I feel it is safe to say that sidewalks in Amman have little to do with practicality or function. There is little continuity of form or uniformity in appearance. Steve was absolutely correct in saying that Jordanians plant trees in the middle of sidewalks. We are not talking about those exceptional times when a hundred year old live oak needs to be preserved by constructing a road or sidewalk around it. I have seen evergreen topiaries (large bases cut into a corkscrew at the top, Dr. Seuss-esqe), Saw Palmettos (reminiscent of FL!), and other ornamental trees given center stage in the middle of a lovely paved sidewalk. In one instance, the tree had begun to push up the pavers around it. In most instances, the trees have grown to large around the base that a pedestrian is forced to step off the sidewalk and into the road. This is almost always at the peril of the pedestrian, as cars are usually parked on either side of the street and moving traffic seems to obey no limits on speed or pedestrian rights.
Another feature that I've noticed is a rather high and steep decline where a sidewalk intersects a driveway. Thankfully, as I mentioned earlier, we opted for the "monster truck" wheels. So Hanna only hangs forward out of her stroller a small bit when we come down off a sidewalk.
The adjustment to life is laden with countless thought processes in which I realize an expectation, hold it up next to the reality of what I encounter in this new place, then face a decision about whether to stay with my previous reality or accept this new one. It would be easier if the new reality included something that fit within my comfort zone. However, as in the case of the sidewalks, I keep falling back on the overarching reality that I have four children, two of which are very small and rather vulnerable. The other two are relatively independent, though one tends to hop, skip and veer off in frequent distraction. This results in my stress level being raised out of my normal comfort range every time we walk somewhere. It also means that I yell more often: "Stop! Now go--fast--stay together everyone! Watch out for the car! Get out of the road! Stop smelling the flowers, let's go!!"
Sigh.
A new friend suggested that we go to the Children's Museum together. I thought it was a great idea, since my kids have seen a lot of the inside of our house lately. She offered to drive us, since our minivan is somewhere in transit. She also has four children and a helper. We counted up the number of people that would need to fit into her seven passenger van: 11.
"The only ones who really need car seats are Hanna and Josephine (her 20 month old," she says casually as we make arrangements over the phone.
I have visions of the other six chidren, ranging in ages from 3 to 9, piled on laps and in the aisles of the car as my friend swerves in and out of Jordanian traffic. Oh, and did I mention that Ramadan just started on Monday, which means that Jordanian drivers are tired, hungry, thirsty and nicotene-deprived?
Sigh.
Sidewalks are not the only thing I need to adjust to here in Amman, but it is a start. I keep hoping that the more I walk with the kids, the more I will adjust to the weaving in and out, up and down from the high curbs, enjoying the scenery. The sidewalks may not be the epitome of urban planning, but they sure are beautiful.
Wow - so many changes you are dealing with! Soo happy to hear you met a "friend". Think of you often and wonder how life is half way around the world. Thanks for giving me a "window" into your world. Love you!!
ReplyDeleteLiesl