Jordan Helpfulness

In the Wadi Rum desert of Jordan.

In Jordan, if someone asks you for help, you don’t pause to ask why, who, or when. There is no weighing up of who this person is or what their ulterior motive might be. Helpfulness is instinctive, immediate, and unquestioning. As my friend Hiba puts it, “When someone is in need of help, they don’t need to be further traumatized with questions and interrogation, they just need help.”

I remember her sharing the example of her grandmother, who lived in a rural village. One evening, there was a knock at the door, which she opened to find three men in uniform. Could she lend three mattresses? Without asking why she did so, and a few days later they were duly returned. When she asked if the men had slept well, they said they had, and were grateful, as was the king of Jordan, who had been visiting a neighboring home and whose bodyguards they were. Her unquestioning offer of help was based on a fundamental Islamic teaching that, if a stranger comes to your house, you give them what they need and don’t even ask their name for the first three days, out of respect for what they may have been through.

This kind of instinctive helpfulness does not just happen person to person. It is also seen in how communities come together to help those in need. I witnessed this transpire for a colleague who needed her house to be painted. She asked her grandchildren if they could help. Their response was not just to turn up with buckets of paint and paintbrushes, but also to ask their friends. A small army of helpers turned a chore into a day of music, food, and communal enjoyment. The house looked brand-new, and friendships were deepened. You never sleep while your neighbor goes hungry, only ever give a plate that is full, and never return one that is empty. People readily give up what is theirs so that they can help others.

Helpfulness is a universal value in Jordan, encountered everywhere and regardless of wealth or social standing. In the car with my friend and her father, journeys would take unexpected turns when a stranger asked for directions, and would be personally escorted to their destination. The same generosity of spirit can mean competitive bargaining over the check in restaurants, where other people’s offers to pay will be vigorously protested.

That does not mean sweetness and light surround you everywhere you turn in Jordan. In fact, Jordanians are well known for being taciturn and their unwillingness to smile. Much has been written about the “Jordanian frown” as the default expression and state of mind. But if you can get past that exterior, you will find Jordanians among the world’s most forthcoming and helpful people. As so often, first impressions can be misleading.

Jordanian helpfulness and generosity have been demonstrated in recent years as Jordan has opened its doors to hundreds of thousands of refugees from the civil war in Syria. Over 650,000 Syrian refugees are estimated to have resettled in Jordan, the vast majority in communities rather than refugee camps. The Jordanian government has put the figure at 1.3 million, including those not formally registered as refugees. This is in keeping with Jordan’s record of hosting refugees from across the Middle East stretching back decades, and Amman’s status as a hub for humanitarian agencies and support.

While this has put a significant strain on Jordan’s already struggling economy, and infrastructure from the school system to social security, and though Jordan has been criticized for deporting some refugees, I believe it still speaks to something fundamental in Jordanian culture: you do not avert your gaze when you see someone in need, but actively reach out to help them.

In Jordan you learn to look past what you initially see; people may not be readily smiling and laughing, but there is a warmth and generosity that quickly comes to the surface when you ask for help. And you learn too that there is a cost to not asking to help and to weighing every interaction as a transaction, where you carefully judge the help you want to offer depending on who the person is and what they need. Jordanians don’t go in for that, they just do what they can to help. If we could all be so instinctively, unquestioningly helpful, our society would heal faster and we would feel better—nourished by the culture of unwavering support that many small acts of helpfulness create.