Thursday, September 15, 2011

About men and Jordan.

Forget about the inconvenience of things, the lack of activities close to home, the missing green. What's really putting me off about living in this country: Its men.

Stepping out of the car, on a Thursday morning at 8 am in a dress reaching down to my knees, in front of an upscale (meaning in size and availability of Western products) supermarket and feel naked. Not because my dress isn't decent or my cleavage too revealing - because of the men sitting in the parking lot openly starring at me.
Because I show legs? Or because I am a foreigner? Or both?

As I said to my Yemeni friend who visited Amman this past week (and as my husband repeats often) Jordanian men would hit on their own sisters.
I am generalizing here, of course. But it happens all the time, everywhere.

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