cultural ramblings

Tom and Jerry are huge here. I mean big. If there was one cultural "import" that I would readily identify as ubiquitous and pervasive, it is this cartoon. I think perhaps its brilliant execution of physical comedy taps into a humor that is both culturally nuanced and universally funny. As I've watched this show with my homestay family and their friends, I find us laughing at all the same parts and understanding all the same meanings. On a commercial break, my homestay baba privileged me with a profound yet simple philosophy that he derived from this show. I'll try to reproduce it here:

So, Tom, although he is bigger, stronger, and faster than Jerry, he can never win. Why? Because Jerry is smarter. He doesn't require strength or speed, he can rely on his intelligence, the most powerful weapon of all.

Although all of this was so clearly true, I had never just stopped to think of Tom and Jerry in such an elaborate and insightful way. Maybe it's because I was too distracted by the hilarious display of violence. Either way I wonder now if he reads as much into Jordanian cultural artifacts as I. For example, the satellite service my family has, and most Jordanian families have I think, provides them with access to channels all over the Arab world. There is a Kuwaiti station, a Lebanese station, a gulf station, a Saudi station, etc. It seems that this region is connected, at least televisually, in ways that I'm not sure the West or even the English speaking world is. However, despite this ostensible solidarity forged around ethnic and usually religious identity are looming perceptions of difference that define certain peoples. For example, according to my homestay brother, Lebanese people speak Arabic very effeminately. He in fact laughed at the idea of Lebanese soldiers uttering death threats or intimidating commands. Also, according to the academic director of my program, Jordanians are viewed as very severe and cold. Not necessarily unfriendly, but definitely not gregarious or funny. If you're looking for the boisterous, ostentatious, or otherwise ridiculous, you must travel to Egypt (according to Ehab anyway). He tells me, "Whenever you see something on Arab television, and it is crazy, it is Egyptian." Soap operas, movies, songs, all cultural productions really of the Egyptian variety are almost certainly loud and comical, so says my maamaa (Nadia).

I also learned, due in large part to the inspiring majesty of "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition," that in addition to providing Jordanians with a great wealth of entertainment, they also supply a steady and reliable workforce. As we watch the teams of architects, construction workers, painters, and designers work tirelessly to finish their project, Ehab turns to me and asks, "Do American's build their homes in America?" I was honestly a bit taken aback and confused by the nature of this question, for I thought to myself, "surely, who else would build them?" Hestitantly, I answered, "yes..." He replies, "Oh! Impressive! Here, all Egyptians. This house, built by Egyptians. The architect, Jordanian, but Egyptians build." Then, I stopped for a moment. How should I navigate this issue? Of course, I knew all along that there is a not-so-silent, racialized workforce in my country that is exploited and used for manual ends, but should I endeavor to communicate this reality with neither of us comfortable enough in each others' language to understand the simultaneous nuance and gravity of the issue? I thought why not, and began to point out how most of the people who were painting and building this brand new, beautifully designed home were brown, and how everyone else running the show and talking about "their work" was white. An obviously problematic and simply deconstruction, but I thought it would be better than nothing.

As I surf the Arabic wavelengths, these perceptions, dare I say stereotypes, I have heard repeatedly articulated, crop up everywhere. In almost every Egyptian soap opera, the women have lots of bracelets, big dark hair, lots of makeup and long, flow-y clothing; the men are usually sweaty, large, hairy, and aggressive. People in general are, indeed, loud. But to what extent are these shows "authentic representations" of the culture they are purportedly a product of. Are they, in fact, mere re-presentations of neighboring Arab countries stereotypes? This is how they are seen, so this is how they will be? But again I wonder if my homestay family is faced with a similar confluence of critical inquiry when they sit back to enjoy their favorite Egyptian soap opera. Do they wonder about the socio-economic and political implications of imported, manual workforces? Perhaps they get about as much politics of immigration out of their shows as I did philosophy from Tom and Jerry. Either way, it is clear that physical comedy isn't the only transregional dimension of our societies.