Jordanian, a seminarian, loves people, and coffee too

What do you want to be when you grow up?” his father asked when he was in 5th grade.

His birth family

His life as an adult has challenged him four times over. Born and raised in Amman, where life was not nearly as complicated as it is today. Everybody came from the same culture and spoke the same language. His values came from his family, his house, and his tribe. He grew up not thinking as an individual but as part of a collective. He grew up with an understanding between him and the collective. You submit to the family, and you meet its expectations. Ashraf’s family has a lineage of ministers, deputies, and military personnel. “What do I want to become when I grow up?” he thought.

“A judge, of course. I was very close to my grandfather. He always wanted a judge in the family.”

Becoming a judge was his grandfather’s goal, his family's wish, but not his own. His money-tight, wealthy grandfather would pay for his eldest grandson’s education — in full and at a private university. After all, the family patriarch was securing the family’s dream.

He ended up finishing his studies in law and began practicing in Jordan. He was recommended to sit as a judge. However, five months prior, personal circumstances had changed drastically.

His second family in Lebanon

The eldest son went through a spiritual conversion and created a hurricane within his birth family. His drastic change of heart, redefining personal goals, and owning his dreams took him elsewhere. The major disagreements on religion with his parents and extended family — with no room for compromise — prompted him to flee. He left his old life for a new one.

From a loud and vibrant personal, professional, and social life, he moved to Lebanon. Now living alone, this pack man became a lone wolf.

“My move to Lebanon effectively ended my career in law. Do I miss it? Of course. In the end, the spiritual experience was more important than my job, my life, or my future.”

In Beirut, he created another family, not by blood, not by kinship, and not through marriage. He became a seminarian, making a small circle of close friends his second family. These are the people he ate with, laughed with, prayed with, argued with, and confided in. He misses Lebanon, its people, and the unique places he holds in his heart: where he met his wife, studied, and the coffee shops where he socialized. His second family helped him belong.

His father passed away in his arms

Currently living in the US, he goes back to the Middle East about five times a year and always stops to visit with his family in Jordan. He regrets not having been around more often when his father was battling cancer. Still, Ashraf was able to spend time with him on his visits and was with his father on his deathbed. He prayed so hard for God to heal his dad.

He was praying for a miracle, yet accepted God’s will.

Even though he wasn’t awake at the end, Ashraf kept talking to him and sharing current stories of his life with him. Who knows? He may have been listening to him. In the end, Abou Ashraf said goodbye in his son’s arms. “It was very difficult, but healing,” Ashraf explains. He believes his dad wanted him, of all people, to be there by his side as he passed.

He took a sip of coffee and gazed through me. I could tell that he went somewhere else in his mind. A few moments later, he returned to our conversation. Looking at me, he said that we are all leaving this earth in the end. No exceptions. “What are we here for?” he asks.

“I don’t believe that God created everything so that we step through life like machines. We are here for a purpose.”

We build our own lives with free will. God has respect for our will to the degree that we can’t even comprehend. By making our own decisions, we bear the responsibility. God gives freedom to everyone and everything. Christ never imposed himself on anyone. He was He. It has been and still is up to us to believe, follow, or not.

His third family — America

His first family is his birth family in Jordan. His second one is the family he created in Lebanon. His third family, however, was a total change.

“It’s my girlfriend's family who later became my fiancée, then my wife, and the mother of my children. My third family is Emily’s family.”

He was introduced to her parents and her community when he came to America. He says he’s marrying not only her but also her culture, language, family, and way of thinking. He realized — the son of the son of his grandfather from Amman — that he was marrying a white Midwestern American girl. Go figure!

Reflecting back, he realized that Lebanon was good for them. It served a sweet spot. They were strangers in what was once a strange land to them.

“Culturally, we knew that Emily would never be 100% Jordanian, and I was never going to be 100% American. Lebanon allowed us to create our own culture within the culture.”

In Jordan, his wife Emily has to conform to a much more conservative environment — unlike in Lebanon, where she cannot walk on the street alone, take a taxi by herself, or even go to the corner market on her own. Bouncing between cultures kept them on their toes. After almost three years of being with her, he embarked on a family visit to the US. The openness of Lebanon cheated him as he thought that the US would be the same. He quickly discovered that Lebanon is not America.

“I was an Arab with broken English who would sometimes only realize 15 minutes later that they threw a joke into the conversation I just finished translating in my head.”

The cultural differences shocked him.

Story 1: A discordant melody becomes harmony

When they lived in Lebanon and would take off to visit Jordan, Ashraf’s whole family, including the parents, brothers, sisters, and the entire tribe of nephews and nieces, would be waiting in the house for their arrival. The first time he flew to meet Emily’s parents, it was a far cry from the “usual” greetings he was accustomed to with his family. Ashraf and Emily arrived one week before Christmas. Emily’s sisters trickled in over the next few days, but even once everyone was together under one roof, each person went his or her own way.

“I was in disbelief. I mean, try to get to know me, at least. Come have a cup of coffee with us. Talk to us. Anything!”

For their family, this was normal. But to him, it was culturally peculiar.

Fast forward 10 years. Things have changed. People have changed. The nature of the relationship between his wife and her siblings changed, too. Once a loose association of individuals, they are more in accord now. They have a real relationship. They hang out together, catch up on FaceTime, and enjoy one another’s company.

Story 2: Dealing with death

Though personal family time in the US has improved for Ashraf, he still experiences shock by how certain topics are treated. In the Middle East, death is always serious, solemn, and a topic not to talk about until it happens. It’s different in Emily’s family. The daughters joke around at the Sunday dinner table and tell their father: “When you go, I will take the china cabinet,” or “When you die, do you want a tomb or cremation?” He says to himself: “Yekhrebzou2ik!”

There's no way I’d be able to translate Yekhrebzou2ik for you. Ask an Arab. Good luck :)

For Ashraf, the casual conversation about death is ill-advised. He’s had to learn how Midwesterners think of life, time, money, and death. It took him time to understand and to feel that he belonged. He now feels that Emily’s mom and dad are like a father and a mother to him.

His last family with Emily

Even though Ashraf and his wife live in the US, they have learned to create their own family culture as they are, in fact, a blended family of multiple cultures.

“In our family, we honor God, respect our family, and are proud of the country in which we live.”

Their two little boys are still learning about their family culture and its meaning. For the eldest son, his dad comes from another country. Dad is an immigrant, but he did not come on a boat. He came on an airplane. Haha!

Ashraf is happy to tell me that he has a wonderful relationship with his family in Jordan, stays in touch with his circle of close friends in Lebanon, spends a wonderful time with his American relatives, and is raising a beautiful family of his own with Emily.

“My life rule is to honor God, love my wife and family, respect my country, and be the best example for my children.”

He’s come a long way. A long way from Amman!

Starbucks drink: Grande black coffee. Daily. A visit to the store once a week.

During the COVID-19 lockdown, like all families, they’re home. A month already, and they’re managing life, work, and running after the two boys.