What's a Girl Gonna Do?

Posted by Susan Miller-Coulter on 05/23/2007

All of these things happened within the past three days. Promise.

Yesterday a mini-bus transported 34 screeching girls from my youth center on a quick tour of 3500 years of history. First stop, Jerash, the pre-eminent Roman ruin in the Middle East. Rough Guide says the place has been lived in since 1500 years before the Romans, but the Romans made it gorgeous and walking through it there's enough left to imagine it in the glory days.

Most of the girls had never been there before, though it's endlessly referred to in their history books. Like school kids everywhere they were more interested in a good lunch than the glory that was Rome, but after we ate everything in sight, I grabbed a large bunch and took them on a forced march to the Kardo, which is a kind of civic plaza. They were amazed at the space, the grandeur of it all. One of them suggested that we sing "our" song, which I've been teaching them the past several weeks.

So the ancient martial plaza at Jerash had a world premier performance of Woody Guthrie's "Peace Call". Even in the hot sun I had chills on the back of my neck.

Peace, peace, peace, I can hear the bugles calling
Roaming round my land, my city and my town
Peace, peace, peace, I can hear the voices ringing
Louder while my bugle calls for peace

The band of 15 girls were really happy, striding along, (very out of tune, but so what, we're working on it) holding hands and bringing smiles to the faces of Jordanians, Brits and the American tourists. One guy even got us on his video cam.

Fast forward an hour's drive to the Crusader castle of Ajloun, a hefty chunk of rock on the top of a fairy tale mountain. Valleys spread far below are dotted with towns and precise rows of trees and vineyards like a children's book drawing. In its 12th century day, Ajloun was at the forefront of communications technology: one of a series of beacons stretching from the Euphrates River in present day Iraq, to Cairo. Relay pigeons would carry messages to and from in 12 hours. We spent an hour racing up and down the steep stairs and scarfing down ice cream, then back into the bus, and creaked on over to Irbid.

We wound up at a park, complete with swings, slides, and benches in the shade. Tired as they were, they took off at top speed, and did everything there was to do. They laughed loudly, and shouted, and doused each other with water in the hot sun. Nobody else in the park cared, or even noticed.

Yet not so far away in our town this behavior would be condemned as completely unacceptable in public, and anyway, there is no park. It was fantastic to see them running like kids anywhere and forgetting the need to be "proper". It is starting to seem to me that opportunities for exercise appear to be culturally regulated by the accident of geography, and one's socio-economic status. There is an annual women's bike ride for peace which goes between Syria, Lebanon, Palestine and Jordan. Personally I don't know of a single Jordanian woman who would even think of entering such an event. It'll be a big victory for me if the girls and I are able to figure out a way for them to take a walk in our village without upsetting their parents.

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This webpage expresses the views of Susan Miller-Coulter. It does not express the views of the United States Peace Corps.

Last updated Sep 29 2008