as a labourer in [northern Jordan] getting 250 JD; he said it’s easier than working with his degree 222. A key question we have posed is why ex-Gazans in Jerash, with dwindling opportunities in the Gulf, continue to pursue academic degrees geared towards sectors in which they cannot work in Jordan, even at considerable cost. For example, ex-Gazans can work as engineers in the private sector but generally not as doctors and accountants. Nevertheless, most high-achieving students interviewed wished to study medicine and we were repeatedly told of earlier times when ‘everyone’ in the camp hoped to study accounting and dentistry. Again, the aspiration to travel abroad may well be a factor in encouraging ex-Gazans to study such courses. As a woman in Jerash camp explained: A class teacher can’t find a place that will hire him [in the Gulf]. A geography teacher can’t find a place that will hire him. So, people started to think of studying other banned fields like nursing, because nurses are required in the Gulf. So, people think they can travel. We have nursing graduates in the camp, who travelled to Dubai 223. However, again, and again, we encountered confusion about which professions ex-Gazans can and cannot work in at any given point in Jordan. In a focus group discussion with women, one woman explained that her husband had studied accounting. When asked why, given that it is banned, she answered: ‘That’s what he was able to study according to his tawjihi grade. […] Back when he first studied it, he could work in accounting; it’s only recently the profession has been prohibited’. Yet other women immediately disagreed: ‘No, it’s been the case since the very beginning’, highlighting the considerable uncertainty surrounding the regulations. Such confusion is not least the result of frequent changes to regulations and policies, often weakly publicized. At the beginning of our fieldwork in 2015, for example, ex-Gaza dentists could obtain a temporary practicing licence from the dental association to open a clinic within their camp of residence. However, this was revoked in 2016. Talking to camp residents in early 2018, we were told that this limitation would again change back to the previous policy. Meanwhile, for ex-Gazans, pursuing ‘wrong’ degrees frequently leads to a rude awakening — and disillusionment — upon graduating and entering the labour market. As one young man expressed: ‘after we study, and get the highest of grades, we are shocked by the reality that you cannot work, because this field is banned for you’224. Prompted further as to why parents then encourage their children to study closed professions, another interviewee explained: Because they haven’t gone through the experience yet. But when their son graduates and starts facing those problems, they start telling their neighbours and warning them. But their son is stuck in the problem already 225. There appears, however, to be a further reason for the eagerness to pursue higher education: ‘moral [status]; you get more value in the community; she or he can climb up the hierarchy’ 226. Those with education are, we were frequently told, ‘respected’. Furthermore, within higher education, the currency and popularity of different fields fluctuate; FGD with women working in Industrial Estates, 29 Jan 2016, Jerash camp. Female, age 39, Jerash camp, 19 January 2016. 224 Male, age 29, Manshiyyeh, 26 January 2016. 225 Male, age 37, Jerash camp, 26 January 2016. 226 Focus group discussion with men, Jerash camp, 21 October 2015. 222 223 ‘Just getting by’ Ex-Gazans in Jerash and other refugee camps in Jordan 119