Nancy has seen better days. Her oil has not been changed in eight months. Her tires are balding. She frequently breaks down. But her owner isn’t neglectful — quite the opposite. “This will be my first and last car,” Gaith Jann told the HPR this July, as he patted the 1974 Mercedes affectionately. The two bonded during a year-long road trip throughout Jordan, where Jann was on a mission to bring reading back to a country where books are a rare sight.
“People don’t read here,” Jann said. “Boys are the worst — they don’t read nearly as much because they’re too busy chasing girls.”
In this culture, the 28-year-old stands out. The Jordan native grew up in Madaba, a small town an hour south of Amman. His parents instilled in him a love of reading, forcing him to read an entire book before he was allowed to play Nintendo for the day. He loves learning so much that he struggled to remember all the degrees he has attained. Flashing the easygoing smile he is known for, he listed them off: fire safety, risk management, insurance processing, law, and, most recently, social entrepreneurship.
Two years ago, Jann, ever drawn to books, quit his career at a risk-management company for a job with Al-Jahith Bookshop in downtown Amman, which specializes in ancient books and manuscripts. Money was in short supply; he slept in the shop with only his backpack and a change of clothes. After a few months, he grew frustrated and decided things needed to change.
“When I was growing up, there were more books around. Stationary shops always stocked books. Then, the economic situation got worse, and people stopped reading as much,” said Jann.
Jordan’s economy, continuously plagued by corruption and inefficiency, has spiraled into recession as refugees pour into the country from Syria and foreign aid to the small nation declines. According to data from the Jordan Department of Statistics, unemployment hit a 25-year high this year at 18.4 percent, rising to 24.1 percent among university graduates.
The problem is not that people are unable to read — the literacy rate is 95.9 percent, one of the highest in the region — but that they are not able to pay for books.
Jann took matters into his own hands and launched a social initiative called “Books on Wheels.” He packed his book collection into his car and set out on a year-long road trip, selling books in communities across Jordan. His daily routine never varied: After sleeping in his car overnight, he parked Nancy in a location with plenty of foot traffic, set up small tables around his car, and filled them with low-priced books. He worked tirelessly, seven days a week, 365 days a year.
“You have to love what you do,” said Jann. “I quit my job because I was depressed, stuck in a cubicle carrying out someone else’s dream. When this is your dream, you’re willing to work 16 hours a day, every day, no holidays, no weekends. I’m loving every minute.”
The books are as varied as Jann’s degrees: a beaten-up copy of Charlotte’s Web rests on top of Why Men Don’t Have a Clue. An English-language translation of the Quran sits atop the trunk. Jann stocks his car with books in five languages: English, Arabic, German, French, and Spanish.
Jann’s enterprise has become a community effort: Most of the books he sells are donated. Local authors donate books. Employees of embassies donate books. Even foreign writers have donated books, though none have been able to penetrate Jordan’s strict import restrictions. His largest donation? Over 2,000 books from a local Jordanian woman.
Earlier this year, Nancy broke down, and Jann faced a harsh reality after learning it would cost 1,000 dinars to fix the car and get back on the streets. After posting about the news on Facebook, an unlikely donor stepped in to help: Dana Jumbulat, who had never met Jann but had seen him selling books. Jumbulat, who heads a government agency responsible for fighting money laundering and counter-financing terrorism, cut him a check for 1,500 dinars on one condition: She wanted Jann to share his love of books with her daughter.
“I told him, ‘I want just one thing. Talk to my daughter, she’s 10, about your dream and why you’re doing this. Talk to her about why books are important and why this is your dream.’ He agreed, and after he finished I gave him the check,’” Jumbulat said.
A local Jordanian woman, who asked to be identified only as Oldaz, was impressed by the collection as she circled the car, reading the backs of books. She was hopeful about the future of the project.
“Reading culture is not strong here in Jordan,” Oldaz said. “ In fact, I also read less and less. This project is amazing, and I hope it triggers interest among the youth in particular.”
The cheapest book on Jann’s car was priced at half a dinar, though the label on the back indicated a seven dinar price. The most expensive book was eight dinars. Jann buys some books at a steep discount from suppliers in downtown Amman, and other times is more creative. One time, he purchased 400 books recovered from an industrial site. The books were covered in mud, but he bought the entire crate for only 100 dinars, painstakingly restoring and later selling them.
“I’m not greedy,” Jann said. “My goal is to get people to read more. Donations help me sell at a low price, and I take as I give. When I’m receiving so much, I give to others in return.”
The car has become a local landmark — tourists and Jordanians alike stop at the car to peruse the newest paperbacks. While those walking on the street are supportive, the government has been less so. In June 2017, Jann was confronted by officers from the Municipality of Amman, who told him he was illegally selling on the streets. He stood his ground.
“Because I studied law, I found a loophole,” Jann said. “If I have tables with my books in the street, they have the right to confiscate them. But since my books are on top of my car, which is my personal property, and I am legally parked on the street, they have no right to touch my belongings.”
Things came to a head later that month, when the Criminal Investigation Department began questioning him, accusing him of selling banned books and promoting terrorism.
“I told them, ‘check out my books, I am very conscious of these things.’ Then, more police officers gathered from the Municipality of Amman, Traffic police, and the CID (Criminal Investigation Department) and started bullying me. Fortunately, when I turned around, there were 30 people behind me. It was beautiful to see all those people supporting me. Power to the people,” he said.
Authorities have left him alone since.
Over the past two years, Jann has grown his enterprise. A year ago, he cut back his travel to two days a week and opened Madaba’s first bookshop. Called Kawon, or “universe” in Arabic, the store is tiny: just 6 meters by 6 meters. But he has big plans for the future.
Jann recently hired his first employee, an artist who runs the shop and paints in her spare time. He is moving his business into a significantly larger storefront, with two stories and large gardens, and wants to create a space where people feel comfortable engaging with the humanities.
“This should be the cultural hub of my community. I want this to be a place where kids hang out and people drink coffee. I’m going to host social activities, poetry readings, cinemas and live music.”
To purchase the new space, he was forced to take a loan from Jordan’s Development and Employment Fund after being denied from all 14 grants he applied to.
“I have to make payments on that loan every month, which just makes the whole struggle of this initiative even harder,” said Jann.
Jumblatt was unsurprised to hear this news — it is a hard reality that many social entrepreneurs face when their projects are not profitable.
“Most grants, they want you to be money generating, she said. “They don’t look at the other values that can be generated, like going back to books and reading. … There are a lot of other problems and issues we’re trying to deal with and fix, but I believe that individuals like Gaith and their projects need to be taken more seriously.”
Despite this challenge, and the uphill path ahead of him, Jann remains optimistic. He admits his plans are ambitious, but also feels they are realistic.
“When you believe in something this strongly, it will come true. Your value is what you know. That’s your real worth. I have a vision for a future where people have opportunities here. I want to make people care about learning and reading.”