Settling In

Today was an AMAZING day. After a lazy morning spent hanging out with Monica watching a terribly old episode of The O.C. on TV, and repacking my bags for the second time in 12 hours (I wasn’t thinking logically the first time, ha), I went down to have breakfast and ended up talking with this Italian guy…his name is eluding me at the moment. Anyways, nice guy, but he kind of hogged the conversation. It was mostly fine with me because to be honest, I didn’t feel like being social yet. J But after an hour or so, we went about our days, I think mostly contented with the quality of the other’s company and conversation subjects (religion, middle eastern history, future travel plans…the usual, lol).


I then went back up to my room to make plans for the day. It’s nice to have the luxury of time to play with, and not feel like I have to cram everything into 2-3 days. I think that’s one of the things I like most about living abroad. You can slow down enough to truly understand the vibe and rhythm of a place; that you don’t get caught up with the checklist of things to see and do. It’s generally a much nicer experience.

In any case, as I was up in my room, flipping through my Lonely Planet book and sewing my backpack together for the second time (soon to be third), a guy from the hotel staff came in to tidy the place up. We ended up talking together for a while…about how as a Palestinian he came to Jordan for urgent medical care a couple years ago and is now not allowed back into Jerusalem. All alone and separated by his family, he will most likely never see his true home again, and only his wife and son on rare occasions. He tells me he works to survive, as being an immigrant to Jordan, he is legally limited from pursuing certain job opportunities or careers. Thus, instead of being able to work with what he is qualified or trained to do, he must be a menial laborer in a cheap hotel, dealing with annoying backpackers from around the world. He’ll never be able to even consider buying a car, house, or other common luxuries that most Jordanians enjoy. But most of all, he wants to know why. Why he is banned from returning home. Why he has witnessed Israeli soldiers kill young children. Why his mother, breaking long nationwide house arrest to pick grapes needed to feed her starving family, was shot in the back by a soldier perched in a neighbors open window. Why President Obama continues to support Israel when so many injustices have been committed. All points well taken. However, he is Palestinian. In the back of my mind I couldn’t help but think: haven’t Palestinians also wrought terror upon the helpless? Haven’t both sides engaged in equally horrendous acts of violence and political tyranny? Can anyone EVER justify their cause against another when they too have oppressed the “other”?

With these thoughts swirling in my head, I left Farah Hotel for an afternoon of walking the city. I wandered Amman for a little over 3 hours, which for being a city built on many hills, can actually be a pretty good hike! J Amman is really incredible, with narrow avenues splintering across the city, steep stairways tucked into back alleys, and mosques sitting at the top of every couple hills in view.

I did two big loops today. One making my way from Farah Hotel to Rainbow St., and circling back to the hotel and walking out to the Roman theater (which I ended up passing by because I was so incredibly thirsty the only thing I could think about was getting some water! I will go back tomorrow though). Because I was out walking right after noon, hardly anyone was out and about, so I got to really explore without feeling uncomfortable or rude in my curiosity. Plus, it’s Ramadan which means that Muslims can’t eat, drink, smoke, or have sex between sunrise and sundown. In a Jordan summer, that is one hell of a long day, especially when it’s so hot! I don’t know how people go without drinking water or anything. I tried to go as long as possible during my hike without water, but didn’t last very long despite my lukewarm constitution…

Tonight was the cherry and chocolate sauce on top that made this day a highlight. Feeling a bit lonely, I decided to knock on the door of the Brits in the neighboring room. Turns out Jeremy and Chris, two brothers from Oxford, were game to go out to dinner, so the three of us left Farah together in search of grub. Having only walked a few steps down the alley outside of our hotel room, we were hailed down by a man we came to know as Shawki and he sat us down right off the street to share his Ramadan dinner of curries, chicken, saffron rice, and the famously sour middle eastern yogurt. YUM. But of course, after exchanging some lighthearted bantering, we discovered that Shawki is a businessman of the finest sort…and spent the whole rest of dinner cleverly reminding us of all the good deals he could give us as a taxi driver. :) After dinner, we then drank Arab coffee, which to be honest blows every other coffee I’ve ever had out of the water. Delicious! Then, naturally, came dessert. And boy! Do Jordanians LOVE their dessert. I think I definitely picked the right country, although not if I gain 20 pounds, haha! In any case, we enjoyed a delicacy of haloumi cheese dipped in flour, sugar, and then fried. It is literally a gooey, oozing mess of a salty-sweet heart attack waiting to happen. But oh! It was incredible!

As if that wasn’t enough, Shawki then asked us if we were interested in catching a cab for an excursion outside the city. Glancing at each other, somewhat skeptical but curious, we nodded, hopped in, and drove out to a hilltop outside Amman to enjoy the splendor of the flicking skyline, and the glow of the increasingly permanent Palestinian refugee camp below. The warm breeze wafted up to us as we sat down in lawn chairs with hot tea and hookah. I’m proud to admit that despite my resolve to never smoke, I tried hookah. I’m only proud of it not because of the act of smoking itself (which I still think is GROSS), but rather that I was open-minded enough to try something that I am so adamantly against. And lets be frank. Hookah is not really something to worry about getting addicted to. It was very much a social experience in which it would have been rude to refuse trying a puff or two. Such is the culture here. Smoking is social, because drinking is very much frowned upon for fervent Believers. So, yes, hookah was nice especially for the moment, but not something I really need to be into. Besides, I can still enjoy the syrupy sweet smoke within most cafes secondhand to be satisfied.


We stayed up there for hours, talking, laughing, and exchanging stories; very much a Jordanian example of tremendous hospitality. An absolutely amazing experience that couldn’t have been foreseen when the three of us walked out our door that evening. The spontaneity of it all is truly remarkable.
When we got back to the hostel, the guys and I walked up to our rooms, exchanged goodnights, and proceeded to sleep off our significant food babies. After today, who knows what adventures tomorrow will bring?