Background
After working with a large multinational tobacco company in Lebanon for two years, I was transferred to the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan to work in the same role, as an embedded Risk Management Consultant in the company’s large production facility on the outskirts of the Jordanian capital, Amman.
Living as an expatriate in Jordan
Moving to Jordan was that cliché of “an unexpected culture shock”, as it is a quiet, conservative, neutral country with its foundations deep in tribalism and religion.
In the winter months, tribes would move back to the industrial area close to the factory, claiming it was their tribal land. There was no mileage in speaking to the Bedouin as an outsider, as they would take offence at being challenged. I suggested that we install a water tap outside the perimeter wall and supply buckets, so they could collect water and feed their livestock. This stopped them from pestering the guard force and satisfied their need to ‘tax’ the industrial unit on their land.
Working with Jordanians
In hindsight, Jordan is far more conservative than the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. The largest influence on society in Jordan is tribalism. It affects every aspect of life, to the extent that it is not uncommon, after a road traffic collision, for those involved to wait at the side of the road for their tribal sheikhs to arrive and mediate, while the police observe and keep the traffic moving.
The Jordanians, being reserved, sat quietly in their groups daily and engaged in unobtrusive small talk. The conversations were limited to simple, neutral topics that everyone could join in with, usually centred on food or football. A lesson for me in my early days was to avoid asking questions that would require a personal opinion. It was evident that confrontation on any level was not an arena that Jordanians are comfortable in.
Jordanians do not differ from other Arab states in operating within a culture of blame. This was evident on my first visit to Jordan. On my first morning, I was casually informed that one of the guard force had died in the early hours of the morning while on duty. I arrived at the factory to be greeted by the Factory Manager, who announced that I was to lead the investigation into his death, then tell his family what had happened. For the Jordanians, it was considered easier for me as an outsider to manage the situation and make decisions, rather than any of the management team, for fear of making a small error or a poor decision. The responsibility, and any associated blame, would lie with me as an outsider, so their tribe and family would not face any dishonour or criticism.
I was fortunate during my time in Jordan, as I had a mentor and an office gossip translator. Through our intimate chats, I was able to tap into her knowledge, ask cultural questions and build my own understanding of the Jordanians. My currency for her insights was large bars of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk brought back from my trips home to the UK.
Key learnings
- To survive as an outsider and an expatriate, you must deliberately think each remark and comment through, or you face isolation and a lonely experience in the Kingdom. I dropped my guard on my second-to-last day and swore in the canteen. That is a lesson I have learnt from.
Reflections on Jordan
They were never rude or curt to me, but they were cautious about what they said and did in my presence. I understand enough Arabic to hear them switch conversations in canteens and communal spaces when I entered, or even just stop talking.
My enduring memory of Jordan is from a visit to Petra. I went into a local restaurant, just off the tourist trail, and asked in Arabic for Mansaf, the national dish of Jordan, with some green tea. The owner was so overjoyed that an outsider wanted to eat his country’s national dish that he only charged me for my drinks, and kept shaking my hand, telling me I was his new Jordanian brother.
They want a life away from drama and stress, protected by their tribe, under the watchful eye of God.