Trips are funny things. Often they are defined by the huge moments - swimming with dolphins or visiting the Taj Mahal or meandering down the Siq at Petra - but often the absolute best moments are the quiet ones which get lost in the chaos. My favorite family vacation as a child was an impromptu one where we ended up, in an almost unplanned fashion, driving up to my Dad's friend Stanley's little island that his family owned in the Great Lakes. All we did for the entire week was just sit around for an entire week cooking and eating and barely moving. One night my Dad and Stanley and I took a little boat out in the middle of the lake, allegedly to fish, but mainly to get out of the house. We sat there for a couple hours, mainly staring at the sky, and that was the first time I ever saw the northern lights. Now, granted, seeing the northern lights is a big deal, but I think I mainly cherish that moment because it was just the three of us talking.
In much the same way one of my fondest memories of the recent trip to Jordan was one of the quietest. It was a day wherein six of the students decided that they wanted to head up to check out the incredible Roman ruins at Jerash (always a great choice), so Cyndi and I arranged a private car to pick them up and head north. That left the remaining folks with a window of opportunity to explore, so we hopped in a taxi and headed to the King Abdullah Mosque. As I've mentioned elsewhere, usually every Islamic country has the one mosque where non-Muslims are allowed to visit during certain times, and the beautiful King Abdullah Mosque serves that purpose in Jordan. Somehow I had only visited it once during all my visits to Jordan and that was ten years ago. After a crazy taxi ride with a driver who didn't know where he was going - and who then wanted more money for getting us lost - and me, as is my wont, losing my temper and yelling at him (which usually happens about once a trip in regard to the continuous battle of the taxi) - we made it to the mosque. The women - my friend and colleague Cyndi and the three students, Taylor, Emma and Keebee - had to, in addition to covering their hair, also slip into a loaner abaya (the same practice holds true for the Shaikh Zayed Mosque in Abu Dhabi). They were allowed to go into the main section of the mosque, which, ironically, many Muslim women would not visit. We spent a lovely hour inside the mosque just walking around and chatting - one of those teachable moments where an unplanned classroom discussion, delivered in respectful whispers, erupts. In between my own fascination with Islam - and decades of teaching experience - and my own travel experience in the region - I, while not an invaluable resource, at least proved to be marginally useful.
Now, inside of that, the quiet moment resides. Taylor is a very bright young woman with tremendous potential, but she's also an individual of tremendous faith, in this case Christian. As is well-documented, Vermont is the least religious state in the union. Only about 14% of Vermonters regularly attend service (of any religion) in Vermont, which is the lowest figure in the US by a comfortable margin. Of course, I guess that's perspective - I was following a Twitter discussion related to this once and a Brit pointed out that if 14% of folks in the UK attended service that would qualify as a religious renaissance. Consequently, some students of faith sometimes feel, if not necessarily persecuted for their faith, at least a little uncomfortable discussing it. Taylor and I ended up having a fascinating discussion about God, both the Christian and Islamic interpretations, and faith and humanity, while standing in the middle of the mosque, surrounded by its artistic beauty and an almost tangible silence. One of the many wonderful results of trips such as this is that they allow faculty to see students - and students to see faculty - in a very different light. This is definitely a moment that I will cherish.
In much the same way one of my fondest memories of the recent trip to Jordan was one of the quietest. It was a day wherein six of the students decided that they wanted to head up to check out the incredible Roman ruins at Jerash (always a great choice), so Cyndi and I arranged a private car to pick them up and head north. That left the remaining folks with a window of opportunity to explore, so we hopped in a taxi and headed to the King Abdullah Mosque. As I've mentioned elsewhere, usually every Islamic country has the one mosque where non-Muslims are allowed to visit during certain times, and the beautiful King Abdullah Mosque serves that purpose in Jordan. Somehow I had only visited it once during all my visits to Jordan and that was ten years ago. After a crazy taxi ride with a driver who didn't know where he was going - and who then wanted more money for getting us lost - and me, as is my wont, losing my temper and yelling at him (which usually happens about once a trip in regard to the continuous battle of the taxi) - we made it to the mosque. The women - my friend and colleague Cyndi and the three students, Taylor, Emma and Keebee - had to, in addition to covering their hair, also slip into a loaner abaya (the same practice holds true for the Shaikh Zayed Mosque in Abu Dhabi). They were allowed to go into the main section of the mosque, which, ironically, many Muslim women would not visit. We spent a lovely hour inside the mosque just walking around and chatting - one of those teachable moments where an unplanned classroom discussion, delivered in respectful whispers, erupts. In between my own fascination with Islam - and decades of teaching experience - and my own travel experience in the region - I, while not an invaluable resource, at least proved to be marginally useful.
Now, inside of that, the quiet moment resides. Taylor is a very bright young woman with tremendous potential, but she's also an individual of tremendous faith, in this case Christian. As is well-documented, Vermont is the least religious state in the union. Only about 14% of Vermonters regularly attend service (of any religion) in Vermont, which is the lowest figure in the US by a comfortable margin. Of course, I guess that's perspective - I was following a Twitter discussion related to this once and a Brit pointed out that if 14% of folks in the UK attended service that would qualify as a religious renaissance. Consequently, some students of faith sometimes feel, if not necessarily persecuted for their faith, at least a little uncomfortable discussing it. Taylor and I ended up having a fascinating discussion about God, both the Christian and Islamic interpretations, and faith and humanity, while standing in the middle of the mosque, surrounded by its artistic beauty and an almost tangible silence. One of the many wonderful results of trips such as this is that they allow faculty to see students - and students to see faculty - in a very different light. This is definitely a moment that I will cherish.
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| The picture is a tad blurry, but the memory is crystal clear. Thanks to the excellent Keebee for sending it along. |
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