Thursday. They asked for my ID at the campus gates. They never ask for my ID.
“Asef ya 3ammi, ma inti 3arfeh, intikhabat o ma bedna mashakel” (Sorry, elections, and we don’t want problems)
I nod a “Ya3teek il 3afyeh” and walk into the Adaab Department only to be kicked out by campus security– “Barra, barra, ma fi il yom mo7adarat, intikhabat! Intikhabat!” (Outside, outside, there are no lectures today- elections, elections!)
I leave and get into a cab. Intikhabat. Intikhabat. In the cab, my mind went over the long discussion my mother and I had the night before about Jordan University’s annual student elections.
My mother’s experience and thoughts about the student elections are particularly interesting to me because she was the first female to be elected in the Faculty of Educational Sciences back in the 70’s. Then, they had jam3eyehs, which apparently were what gave way to today’s student council, and which replaced something more similar to the today’s student council after what I believe was a turbulent period in Jordan University’s history.
But the Jordan University my mother went to is very different from the Jordan University I go to today, in matters mostly related to the diversity of society, which in turn influences almost everything, including elections. The result is something terrible, for not only are these elections the perfect example of a fake democracy as the university appoints 40% of the chairs, it’s also a disgustingly racist circus reeking with intolerance.
For such reasons, I am personally not involved even slightly in Jordan University’s elections. Not that it matters- my wonderful department does not have a single candidate this year anyway, so the most I can do is just walk around campus amusing myself over the graphic facet of the various campaigns, the worst case of annual visual pollution I have ever seen in my life (it is even worse than the ugly lights lighting up Zahran Street this week, which I’m hoping is a temporary Independence Day decoration).
Naturally, the biggest victims are the trees. Poor trees. As if it’s not enough that JU can’t spare some of the cash on investing in a different type of pesticide- I hate the way the white looks, it’s hideous!
A rose-bush of papers and look, a tree that has businesscards for leaves!
Maybe it’s just because I find geekiness attractive, but I thought that this was the most amusing slogan I saw
A feminist man in Jordan? Ma32ool?
They actually passed this out. Charming. Just charming.