Jordanian Health Care

Hey Everyone,

I wish that this post could be dedicated about the National holiday that Jordan is currently gearing up for. It has to do with the Hajj, the preparation to slaughter a hell of a lot of sheep to commemorate the binding of Ishmael (not Isaac), and give a lot of money to family members.

Because I'm sick, though, I will dedicate this post to telling you about my experience with the Jordanian health care system. It will also include some funny cultural things that I noticed throughout the ordeal. The moral of the story is that I love my host family, and that I love being in a country with a functioning health care system (and government...).

For the last week or so, people on my program have been dropping like flies. My host mom thinks it has to do with the badia. I think it has to do with the fact that the seasons are changing (an odd experience for a californian). In addition to a flu-like thing and a 24 hour stomach flu going around, there has also been a general sinus infection circulating. Lucky me, that's what I got. I've spent the last few days sleeping, and as the symptoms haven't gone away, I followed my mom advice and called my program to have them take me to the hospital (doctor). However, since it's a national holiday, no one picked up their phone. When they finally did, they somehow convinced my host family to take me.

After waiting five Jordanian minutes for my host dad to come home with the car (read an hour and a half), my mom pulls me into the car and we go. There is a bunch of traffic, but it's all good. The highlight of the drive is when the song Gangnam style comes on. Her first reaction: turn it up and ask why my youngest host brother isn't there to dance and sing it for us. God I love my mom. Within three minutes she asks me if I like her driving. I tell her so far so good, and the next thing I know, a loud noise comes from the engine. Oh god. She then asks me if I have a car in the states, and I tell her that I do, but that it's automatic. She does not like automatic cars, and she also doesn't like seatbelts--no one in Jordan does, and I still don't get why.

We pull up to the clinic where there is a man dressed in a traditional robe and hat sitting in the waiting room. He smiles at me and a man in scrubs waves my mom and me into a room. In Arabic, there is a sign on the desk that says "Dr Dani." Her first reaction: I wonder where he is from. Jordan is based on tribal culture, and everyone knows the big tribe names in this country. Whatever.

A guy in his late 20s/early 30s walked into the room wearing scrubs. He introduced himself as Dr. Mohammad. My host mom said hello, and within seconds, they were having the casual conversation of where the other is from. The location in Jordan doesn't matter. When you meet a new person, you find out where they are from and learn a bit about them. You don't deal with total strangers. My Arabic comprehension is actually pretty good, and from what I gathered, my host mom was disappointed in him. He knew his family was from Bethlehem (in Palestine), but he wasn't sure exactly which neighborhood. She told him that I was from America--San Francisco--and that I wasn't feeling well. He turned to me and asked how I was feeling. I explained my symptoms, and it became very clear that his English is not nearly good enough to communicate with me. I switched to Arabic, and he was really surprised. I enjoyed the shocked look on his face.

I told him about the things going around SIT, and after looking into my throat for a whopping 3 seconds, he laughed and confirmed that I was correct. He took my temperature (with a non-electric thermometer), and confirmed: sinus infection. It's OK. It could be worse.

He told me that he needed to give me a few injections (not IV, in the butt), and as he prepped the needle, my mother kvelled about me and my program. It was adorable. She told him about my lack of Arabic coming into the program and my status now, about how SIT loves having Jordanian natives help out with us to work on Arabic (and they learn English from us), etc.

He gave me the injection and told me that within a few hours, I should be feeling better.
As he was filling out a prescription and a chart, I found out that he wants to improve his English to become a better doctor and would love to meet with me to talk and help him learn. My mom urged me to take his number, and I gave him mine. This epitomizes Jordan: Come in for the medicine, leave with new friends. Welcome to Jordan!

I went to the pharmacy, picked up some meds for the next few days, and that was that.

The cost for everything was 30 JD, roughly $45. While for a student, this was not a cheap outing, the reality is that in the states, this could have costed a million times more. I am grateful to be in a place with good medical care. Even if my ass is still sore from the shots.

My next post will be about Eid, the upcoming holiday dedicated to preparing and doing the Hajj to Mecca, and on Friday, I'm off to Morocco. Get ready to read about some exciting adventures!

Best,
B