Our Trip to the Mall
Many months ago, we took our first trip to one of the local malls. Malls here are a pretty big deal, a way to cheat the weather and go broke all at the same time. They are often several stories tall, anywhere from 4 to 9 floors. An amusement park and food court will often occupy the top couple of floors, a supermarket the first floor, and we haven't seen a mall yet that didn't have a dedicated prayer hall.
We've got a mall about 15 minutes walking distance from us. Generally speaking, malls rank somewhere near the 6th or 7th circle of Hell in terms of my desire to spend time in one, but I will say that there are some refreshing differences between the malls here and the malls in the States.
First off, the Jordanians are family people. It really is very sweet to go to a mall and see the place filled with families- mom, dad, the kids, all dressed to the nines. Somehow the experience is a bit less carnal. You've still got your teeny-boppers with all their gum-cracking and gravity defying hairdos, but families are the rule. That's why they build the play-parks.
Ahh, the play-parks. Thoroughly unregulated arenas of kinetic release! Anything goes in these places. We have seen these indoor parks virtually demolished over a course of weeks, without the fun-factor suffering even one little bit. This "creative restructuring" just makes for more exciting play. Why not throw the rocking horse into the ball pit? Who says a slide has to be standing in order to be fun? Tear half the planks out of the rope bridge and now you've got yourself a real challenge!
There were some annoyances, though. The little coin-op carousel brays a particularly annoying version of Jingle Bells. Nice, I suppose, for those who are into co-opted pagan festivities, but we were irked. Also, the bumper cars move way too fast. We watched quite a few kids go to tears with the first slam. One kid came out with a bloody lip.
The other thing we like is the prayer hall. It's really something to be shopping, or eating, or washing the gore from your child's face as he comes out of his bumper car and suddenly the call to prayer is sounded out over the mall's PA system. Helps one keep perspective.
It was during our first trip to the mall that we saw the disturbing consequences of not following Fashion Rule #32:
Do not wear clothing printed with words in a language that you cannot understand.
Since our trip to the mall I have seen three young men wearing jackets emblazoned in HUGE block letters with the words:
Negro Sport
I don't know what they think it means. We can't say we even really know what it means. We hope it's merely a trend that goes the way of jelly sandals.
We've got a mall about 15 minutes walking distance from us. Generally speaking, malls rank somewhere near the 6th or 7th circle of Hell in terms of my desire to spend time in one, but I will say that there are some refreshing differences between the malls here and the malls in the States.
First off, the Jordanians are family people. It really is very sweet to go to a mall and see the place filled with families- mom, dad, the kids, all dressed to the nines. Somehow the experience is a bit less carnal. You've still got your teeny-boppers with all their gum-cracking and gravity defying hairdos, but families are the rule. That's why they build the play-parks.
Ahh, the play-parks. Thoroughly unregulated arenas of kinetic release! Anything goes in these places. We have seen these indoor parks virtually demolished over a course of weeks, without the fun-factor suffering even one little bit. This "creative restructuring" just makes for more exciting play. Why not throw the rocking horse into the ball pit? Who says a slide has to be standing in order to be fun? Tear half the planks out of the rope bridge and now you've got yourself a real challenge!
There were some annoyances, though. The little coin-op carousel brays a particularly annoying version of Jingle Bells. Nice, I suppose, for those who are into co-opted pagan festivities, but we were irked. Also, the bumper cars move way too fast. We watched quite a few kids go to tears with the first slam. One kid came out with a bloody lip.
The other thing we like is the prayer hall. It's really something to be shopping, or eating, or washing the gore from your child's face as he comes out of his bumper car and suddenly the call to prayer is sounded out over the mall's PA system. Helps one keep perspective.
It was during our first trip to the mall that we saw the disturbing consequences of not following Fashion Rule #32:
Do not wear clothing printed with words in a language that you cannot understand.
Since our trip to the mall I have seen three young men wearing jackets emblazoned in HUGE block letters with the words:
Negro Sport
I don't know what they think it means. We can't say we even really know what it means. We hope it's merely a trend that goes the way of jelly sandals.
posted by P-Tribe @ 12:00 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home