my life in print

twerk outs | October 9, 2009

I love going to the gym here. Something about physical exercise makes so many cultural quirks apparent. I joined a very “western” gym near where I work, and I’ve been going around the same time every day (5:30 p.m.–yuck). Though there are a few more gyms in the city that live up to the western label, mine is very much a standard of Amman in that the men and women work out on separate floors–which I think I actually appreciate. I’ve always hated that aspect of going to gyms at home, where so many of the guys (and girls) who work out are doing it to pick someone up. Here, there’s no self consciousness–which I like. But the funniest thing to me is that Arab women come in full makeup, decked out in matching spandex Nike tops and shorts. (For each other!) They come, walk on the treadmill for about fifteen minutes, switch to the elliptical for another ten, and they’re done. Khalas. When finished, they head to the in-gym salon to get their nails done, their legs waxed, and their backs massaged. All in all, a very different experience than at home.

All the while, I’m the grungy American standing out like a sore thumb in a baggy t-shirt, running shorts, and worn out sneakers. But I think they’re impressed that I actually run on the treadmill. So, points once lost….now redeemed. Phew.