it occurred for girls that had few alternative marriage options, for example because of lower status, ‘bad reputation’ or illness. Marriage to a Jordanian citizen, therefore, was voiced as an aspiration, particularly amongst women in Jerash camp and also amongst some men. However, further research is needed to better understand the patterns, reasons, and extent of this practice. Registering land, property, and businesses in citizens’ names [T]here are people who tell jokes about this: “the only thing you have left is a son — and you have to register him to a Jordanian”197. A more widespread strategy is to seek to circumvent legal and regulatory barriers, particularly with regards to property and business ownership. Whilst several interviewees explained that ‘[s]ome people actually registered [their property] for real 198’ during brief openings in the real estate market, ex-Gazans have resorted to registering property in the names of others — a neighbour, business partner or, most commonly, a relative holding Jordanian citizenship. The scale of such practices is unknown. A very low numbers of any camp refugees own any land outside the camp (only 1.4% of all camp refugees); but the survey does not capture former camp residents who now live in houses and on land outside of the camps. Interviews conducted in Jerash camp suggest that some ex-Gaza families from Jerash — mostly those who had returned with savings from the Gulf, receive a pension from the PLO199, or a steady income from ‘proper’ work — purchased land from neighbouring landowners adjacent to the camp border 200, either under entirely informal agreements or registering such properties in the name of someone else. Building houses on these plots and cultivating the land, the camp has in practice extended beyond its original border. Prior to 2006 when new regulations were introduced, ex-Gazans could ‘safeguard’ their property through a non-revocable power of attorney agreement signed and issued to the ex-Gaza ‘owner’ by the Jordanian citizen whose name the property was registered in, effectively preventing him or her from making use or selling the property (Al-Quds 2009, p. 22). Since then, ex-Gazans have sought to formalise their ‘ownership’ through other means. Some reported signing contracts, including with witnesses present in the municipal office, although these are not, we were told, legally valid in court201. One woman explained the modalities of her family’s land: The land is not under [the ex-Gaza owner’s] name, it is under the name of the original owners, but the water and electricity bills are under our name which is proof of our ownership. [Interviewer: Any other contracts signed as evidence of the agreement?] Yes, they have a signed contract between them, that yes for the government, the land is under the original owner's name, but there are witnesses that say that he owns half of it or so. [Interviewer: The papers are not legal?]. No, but the owner cannot use the land at all, nor build on it or anything. This agreement we call it ‘aqd rahn (a mortgage) and there are witnesses. [Interviewer: Are any Focus group discussion with male youth, 9 February 2016, Manshiyyeh. Female, age 39, Jerash camp, 19 January 2016. 199 Interviewees claimed that PLO pensions were around 320 JD per month but unpredictable, sometimes delayed and / or reduced. Female, age 39, Jerash camp, 3 February 2016; focus group discussion with women, Jerash camp, 21 October 2015. 200 Female, age 39, Jerash camp, 3 February 2016; male, age 40s, Manshiyyeh, 31 January 2016. 201 Female, age 39, Jerash camp, 3 February 2016. 197 198 Fafo Report 2019:34 114