Mohammed and Zina invited us to have dinner with them and Zina’s brother and sister-in-law in a restaurant. It was a restaurant they frequently visited when they needed a night out and some time alone together.
Mohammed and Zina even took a long walk from their home to the restaurant once, leaving the house at 9:30pm and arriving at the restaurant faint and exhausted around 11.
When we entered the restaurant, Mohammed asked the waiter if we could be seated downstairs. They immediately told him there were no tables available, although most of the tables were empty. The waiter then led us up the stairs and we sat down at a table across the way.
Mohammed began to whisper to us but eying David, “You know, David, since you are American, if you had asked for a table downstairs they would have given it to you. But we Iraqis, we are considered less than second-class citizens here.”
I have heard the same refrain before from other Iraqis. They are thankful to be in Jordan. The Jordanians have been kind to allow them to enter the country as guests. But that’s what they are considered here – guests. And now they have overstayed their welcome.
The prices are rising in Jordan and many Jordanians are blaming Iraqis for the inflation, for the rise in gas prices and rental prices, for the increase in traffic. The economy has surged since the war. Massive office buildings are being constructed, more and more flats are being built and immediately occupied by Iraqi families. Iraqis are everywhere – in the shopping malls and grocery stores, in the cafés and restaurants.
After about 15 minutes, as we waited for Zina’s brother and sister-in-law to arrive, the waiter asked if we wanted to move to a table downstairs. Mohammed looked at us and raised his eyebrows. That evening, the waiters were especially kind and cordial.
At the end of the night, the owner of the restaurant even stopped by to offer us bags of baked bread as compliments of the restaurant. They noticed Mohammed and Zina frequented the restaurant often and wanted to thank them for their patronage.
David and I were happy the evening ended well. We were reminded of something Ahmed Abu Ahmed's 16-year-old son, had told us earlier that evening when we visited their home and talked to him about his schooling. He told us he was making more friends now at school and even with the Jordanian kids. "I’m really surprised that some of the Jordanian kids are even nicer than the Iraqi kids.”
Mohammed and Zina even took a long walk from their home to the restaurant once, leaving the house at 9:30pm and arriving at the restaurant faint and exhausted around 11.
When we entered the restaurant, Mohammed asked the waiter if we could be seated downstairs. They immediately told him there were no tables available, although most of the tables were empty. The waiter then led us up the stairs and we sat down at a table across the way.
Mohammed began to whisper to us but eying David, “You know, David, since you are American, if you had asked for a table downstairs they would have given it to you. But we Iraqis, we are considered less than second-class citizens here.”
I have heard the same refrain before from other Iraqis. They are thankful to be in Jordan. The Jordanians have been kind to allow them to enter the country as guests. But that’s what they are considered here – guests. And now they have overstayed their welcome.
The prices are rising in Jordan and many Jordanians are blaming Iraqis for the inflation, for the rise in gas prices and rental prices, for the increase in traffic. The economy has surged since the war. Massive office buildings are being constructed, more and more flats are being built and immediately occupied by Iraqi families. Iraqis are everywhere – in the shopping malls and grocery stores, in the cafés and restaurants.
After about 15 minutes, as we waited for Zina’s brother and sister-in-law to arrive, the waiter asked if we wanted to move to a table downstairs. Mohammed looked at us and raised his eyebrows. That evening, the waiters were especially kind and cordial.
At the end of the night, the owner of the restaurant even stopped by to offer us bags of baked bread as compliments of the restaurant. They noticed Mohammed and Zina frequented the restaurant often and wanted to thank them for their patronage.
David and I were happy the evening ended well. We were reminded of something Ahmed Abu Ahmed's 16-year-old son, had told us earlier that evening when we visited their home and talked to him about his schooling. He told us he was making more friends now at school and even with the Jordanian kids. "I’m really surprised that some of the Jordanian kids are even nicer than the Iraqi kids.”
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