Good news; now we have women police officers, nurses, doctors, engineers, journalists, garbage-truck drivers, professors, teachers, mini-Sheikhs, nuns (obviously), managers, ministers, parliament members, and chiefs of court.

AMMAN — The first woman to hold the position of chief of court was appointed on Monday by the High Judiciary Board and described her new position as a big step forward for Arab women.

“This is a very important step for Arab women in the region; it is tough competition to be appointed as a decision-maker,” said Ihssan Barakat, who three years ago, also became the first woman judge to serve in the Appeals Court.

In her new post of Chief of the Court of First Instance in west Amman, Barakat will be in charge of 22 judges and 81 employees.

She told The Jordan Times yesterday that she is up to “the tough task” of leading the second highest court in Amman, adding that her number one priority will be to provide an efficient judicial system.

“The constitutional law gives every Jordanian citizen the right to obtain justice; my goal is to make it as hassle- free, fast and fair as possible… going to court should not be a punishment,” she said.

As a founding member and present vice chairman of the Arab Women Legal Network, Barakat’s appointment is in line with her determination to raise the capacity of women leaders in the region.

Formed in 2005 and headquartered in Jordan, the network is a nonprofit, nongovernmental regional entity that aims to facilitate the advancement of Arab women working in the legal field.

Link to original — Jordan Times

I have one reservation on something included in this article by the Jordan Times. Barakat is a chairwoman, and not a chairman, of the Arab Women Legal Network. Honestly, let’s be accurate and sex-sensitive — it’s the politically correct thing to do.

Oh, and good thing Barakat is veiled. So much for humbugs saying Muslim women are not allowed to lead or to be in positions of power. Check your references in context.

I hope Barakat and other leading Jordanian women would work to ensure that our laws do not contradict the constitution, like I found previously regarding women in the Jordanian labor law.

Another great idea! The Italian Embassy in Amman is organizing an Italian Festival over the summer. The events start on May 28th and run until July 18th, 2007 and range from product exhibitions to film screenings to musical concerts. There will also be art exhbitions for Jordanian and Italian artists.

Sounds like loads of fun alla italiana! Access the details of the Italian Festival (in English & needs Adobe Acrobat Reader) here:

Italian Festival Details

Finally! After five days of terrible dependence and relevant immobility…Havana Brown returned home! My precious companion is now an image of perfection. Beautiful, beautiful Havana.

I wasn’t so sure the insurance company’s garage will do a good job at giving her the plastic surgery she needed. I think I was even terrified she would return with a clumsy patch across her face. I called the company so many times this morning, every 30 minutes or so, and literally gazzazet-hom until they finally promised they will call me when she arrives to their HQ.

At around 2 PM the company called and asked me to come pick up Havana. I left the office in a hurry and when I got to HQ my eyes were searching, looking around, trying to find her…”Will there be a patch?”… “Will it be a cheap paint-job?”…”Where is she?”

An image of perfection, that’s what I saw when I spotted her parked next to a restaurant close by. You’d think an insurance company would have a parking lot around, but not in this land of virtually non-existent oversight. I checked Havana out, and, satisfied with the surgery, claimed the keys to that vixen.

Before:

After:

You know I steal inspiration sometimes, right? Well now you do, anyway. Some people are just so very insanely creative and they make it seem like it’s so very insanely normal to be that creative, right? Have you met any of these people? Well I have, anyway… Not “met met” but sort of “knew of the existence of that rare specimen of mindblowers.” You know what I mean, right?

Scott Adams is one of the people who belong to my GG: Genius Gallery. I just came up with the whole concept, but you did not know that before I said this and you thought I had some trace of creativity or lovely-name-giving or at least some long-term planning tendencies.

So Adams has an amazing cartoon strip, Dilbert, that I follow religiously. He also has a blog which he started in March this year, and I was just reading what he wrote there. Not only do his cartoons make me laugh myself to tears at the office, because I relate to them very very much, but they make my colleagues look at me in a strange way and think I am deranged…especially the new technician. And now the blog!

In his blog, I read that Adams wants to be a Sheikh. He wants to be called Sheikh Adams, here’s the hilarious post:

Holy Sheikh

Traditionally, the word sheikh has been a title of respect for an old, scholarly, tribal elder. Lately it refers to anyone who is a leader. If they keep lowering the bar, you have a good chance of someday being one.

Sheikh is a great word on several levels. First, there’s the silent h on the end that practically says “fuck you.” It doesn’t even pretend to be working. I like consonants with attitude.

Second, the word just rolls off the tongue in a pleasing way. It sounds like my impression of an arrow flying through the air and hitting its target. Try it at home: sheeeeeeek.

My new goal is to be known as Sheikh Adams. For that, I’ll have to become a leader of some sort. Unfortunately, I am not evil enough to inspire people to do things that are not in their best interest, the way a proper leader would: “Ignore those machine guns and charge the hill!”

The best I can do is to inspire my followers to do what they want to do anyway. Today I would like each one of you to eat, poop, and have an orgasm. (Not at the same time.) Once you have completed the Holy Trinity, or whatever you call it in your house, you may refer to me as Sheikh Adams.

Is that enough disturbing juxtaposition for one day?

Link to Holy Sheikh

Ahhh… I’ve always wanted to be a She-Sheikh too, so I doodled the dream:

Just when I thought May 2007 could NOT get any crappier… 

At 8:30 this morning I was waiting for a traffic light in Shmesani to turn green. I was on my way to work and I could see the office from my spot. The radio was on Mazaj FM (my latest fav) and there was an old song playing, and I was singing along. My Havana Brown (my car, that’s her name) was the first at the traffic light in the right lane.

There was a police woman at that traffic light, she’s always there in the morning. She usually lets cars pass disregarding the color of the traffic light. I was singing and looking at the dashboard and I was very happy. Suddenly I noticed that she was motioning to us drivers to move. I was going to move, just… almost…moving then BOOM!

A beautiful, shiny, black Nissan Xtrail jammed into Havana’s left side (the driver’s -my- side) and I saw huge chips of white paint fly all over the place. The sound was horrible and the old song I was listening to faded out and I remember thinking, literally and in English: “This is not happening.”

I stopped, as I had not yet even started to move. It took the speeding Xtrail 20 meters to stop. The police woman came to me and I opened my window. She asked me to move because I was about to create some major traffic problem at that intersection. I asked if my moving would harm the “kroka” creating process (the procedure in which a police person creates a sketch of the accident, and determines accordingly whose fault it was), and she said no, but I have to move up the street to that tree over there where there is a police man.

The Xtrail and Havana Brown moved up the street a little. Then they stopped and a foreigner came out of the Xtrail. We talked, I asked him what he did, he asked me what I did. As it turned out, the man was Scottish and working in Amman. The Xtrail was hired and he had just dropped his wife at her new job. He opened the back door of his car and there was a two year old boy strapped in a car seat there.

Yeah. Even though I am a woman, I won’t be moved by a boy in a car that has just ruined Havana Brown’s face. Better luck next time. I talked to the kid a little, and then saw the police woman. It was a good thing that there was a witness that saw the whole thing, because the Scot claimed it was not his fault that he plunged into Havana’s left side.

We argued a little. He said it wasn’t his fault, I said it was. I indicated the harsh black rub-off on Havana and told him the angle of his turn was too narrow. We were very civil about it.

I was very surprised but extraordinarily composed. I don’t think I really understood or believed the whole thing. So, I called home and asked for backup. My father came shortly and a representative of the auto hire company came as well.

We called the police. It took them about 30 minutes to show up. The officer asked about the details of the accident and I filled him in. The Scot still insisted it wasn’t his fault, and the hire company rep naturally supported him. The rep said they were “doing this” for “my sake” because the Xtrail was a hire and totally insured (in Arabic ta7meel jmeeleh.) The officer then asked to go see the scene of the crime, and I told him that a police woman saw the whole thing.

We marched down the street. The sun was hellish and the noise of the car motors whizzing by was getting on my nerves. I was growing very impatient and just wanted to sit down.

The officer listened to what the police woman had to say. Her account of the story was exactly like mine, and the officer decided it was the Scot’s fault. The rep then changed his mind and while I talked to him about the accident said that yes I was right and that it’s the narrow street’s fault (in Arabic jallas.)

We then went to the police station where the “kroka” was drafted. I got my copy, paid zilch, was still upset, the Scot paid a 30JD fine, and I headed to Havana’s insurance company. I was supposed to go to the Xtrail’s insurance company, but I figured my company will fix Havana better and then settle accounts with the other company. At least I know where my company is, it just felt familiar at a time when I did not want to deal with strangers anymore.

In these situations, you really appreciate your comprehensive insurance plan. The people at the insurance company were extra nice and extra helpful. I stripped Havana bare of my personal belongings, laptop, bags, papers, tapes, leather gloves, makeup (don’t ask), gum… And I left her there and they said they will take care of her.

Do I hate Nissan Xtrails now?

No.

Do I hate Scots?

No.

Do I hate stupid Jordanian roads?

YES.

Oh right, and to make the affair a lot more interesting, the Scot works in the opposite building — right across the street from my office. But who cares, really? He dislocated Havana’s face and she’s gone now…And I just want to sit down.