jordan pulse -

Atif Abu Hajar
Since Volkswagen took to roads as ‘people’s car’, it knows no geographic or social boundaries. It enters homes, carries families, and settles into popular memory. In Jordan, as in many countries, Volkswagen goes beyond being vehicle to become part of everyday stories. Here my story begins: personal tale where memory blends with nostalgia, experience with belonging.
Volkswagen stands among world’s most famous car brands. Idea born in Germany late 1930s, simple in design, economical in consumption, capable of serving middle-income families. Over years, it remains not just means of transport, but cultural icon tied to collective memory of many societies.
In Jordan, Volkswagen links to personal and family memories, turning over time into stories told in warm gatherings. Among them, I recall first time I saw Volkswagen in real life, and first ride, mid-1970s with late uncle Abu Jamal, friend of my father, who drove us to Batna area.
Later, I began seeing Volkswagens frequently on streets. I believed company produced only white colour, until I saw one owned by our school teacher, blue in colour. I remember he distributed sweets to students of class ‘Safat Nashid’.
Later still, I saw Volkswagen with my uncle Abu Bahaa, and with late neighbour Dr Abu Alami in neighbourhood, then with cousins Abu Alrazi and Abu Alameen, and many others from city. I clearly recall day I filmed last meeting with late artist Tawfiq Al-Nimri at his home in Amman, where I saw Volkswagen he used to go to radio station and tour governorates to document rural musical heritage.
Day came when I decided to buy car for myself. Choice was Volkswagen. More than one person told me, including famous Volkswagen mechanic Abu Hussein: ‘First time I see car this clean. Take care of it. This is gem.’ It truly was remarkable car.
It stayed with me more than 12 years, served me summer and winter, powerful on rough roads, slopes and snowy days. It served me and all residents of area: carried young and old, transported patients and childbirth cases to hospitals, carried oil bags, oil tanks, bricks, cement sacks, even sofas. It was economical and reassuring, especially end of month: no breakdowns, no need for maintenance unless wallet full.
Then day came when I decided to renew car under children’s insistence. I sold it at big loss, leaving ache and regret in my heart for selling it; not only because of love for driving it, but because it became classic car with price reaching 6,000 dinars.
In the end, each of us has something old that, when remembered, pulls heartbeat backward. For me, Volkswagen was more than car: image of childhood, sound of neighbourhood, companion through hardship and joy. From first moment my eyes fell on it, story began that never ended. I tell it today as I lived it, with sweetness and tears.
Despite everything, I find myself thinking again of owning Volkswagen, as if piece of my heart never left me.