Gold Star Qualities

There have been four very distinct phases of this trip since escaping the hell that was Royal Jordanian daycare. First, there was the extreme jetlag that, try as I may, kept me in bed until at least noon the first two days of my trip. Next, utter intimidation. I did not know how to dress, what to say, how to greet people, or even how to carry myself in public. This level of intimidation was overwhelming and frustrating, but was quickly followed by fascination. By being so completely intimidated, I devoted much more attention to the mannerisms of the locals. I was fascinated with the unspoken communication and what appears to be a clash of traditional and modern in every facet of daily life. Now, however, I have reached a fourth phase...extreme boredom.

While intimidation and fascination have infiltrated this phase, they just don't have what it takes to occupy the 16ish hours that I now manage to escape the comatose sleep state that seems to have become my norm lately. In preparation for a little down time and in keeping with my "read nothing that could potentially resemble educational material on vacation" rule, I purchased Chelsea Handler's Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang prior to our trip. I must say that if irreverent, sarcastic, smart, and absolutely hilarious pique your interest, then you must read this (disclaimer: there is a lot of inappropriateness, so if you are easily offended it's probably not the best choice). Honestly, I expected that between Chelsea and the GQ magazine I stole from some guy in first class on our flight I would not have to worry about further entertainment. After all, I do have half a dozen unfinished books on my nightstand right now and I believe it impossible to account for all of the others I have purchased, read 300 of the 350 pages, and then tossed aside because I was annoyed by one of the characters, became preoccupied with something else, or simply just misplaced the book. Not exactly a gold star quality of mine, but it is what it is. I did, however, finish Chelsea yesterday morning while drinking coffee on the balcony. In the process, I roasted my legs to an unpleasant well-done and served as a feast for every insect within a 5km radius.

The non-comatose time that I have spent not being cooked and served while reading Chelsea, I have dedicated to practicing the 26 postures of Bikram yoga. Why I chose to do this, I'm not really sure. I enjoy hot yoga, but I have never been inclined to do a lot of practicing of anything (just ask my mom about ballet, piano, gymnastics, clarinet, softball, tennis, soccer or any of my other endeavors as a child). On a positive note, I can now stand on one foot while holding the ball of the other foot in my interlocked hands and extending that leg straight in front of me...Dandayamana Janushirasana. I'm considering adding this on my resume under "other skills" with all of the randomness I've included in an attempt to appear well-rounded.

This extreme boredom has led to a number of other interesting activities. I've taken account of all of the people/things with which I am truly enamored. It is a short list including only coffee, chocolate, ice cream (in either of the aforementioned flavors plus strawberry and caramel), Chelsea, little people, Bobby Flay, Ben Olsen, good wine and good vodka. I am thankful that it is short, too many obsessions would require too much of my time and I already have a lot on my plate. I also made an attempt at taking account of all of the excess I would like to eliminate from my life...this list is much longer and a work in progress, so I've elected not to share it at this time.

Tomorrow we depart for Dead Sea. I am hoping that since he will be somewhat away from work, I can drag Eric down to my level of uselessness; I think it would be funny in a tying-a-string-to-a-June-bug's-leg kind of way (did anyone else do that?).

The Colors of Amman

Any direction you look in Amman, two colors are prominent: green and brown. The homes, the travertine earth, and the wild grasses all contribute to Amman's brown backdrop; shades vary from almost a creamy white to a deep chocolaty orange. The green, mostly from olive and palm tree-lined streets and gardens, is less varied but much more vibrant. In the short time I have been here, I have learned that green is very important to the people of Amman. Though they are small, each house has a meticulously-kept garden and when an Iraqi ex-patriot built a home with no garden in our neighborhood, it was considered an extreme offense.

Yesterday, we experienced another form of green in Jordan at Wild Jordan. Wild Jordan is the only location I've seen in Jordan that prohibits smoking. It is also sustainably designed, the only place that I have noticed promoting recycling, and sells local products. We had lunch at the Wild Jordan Cafe and enjoyed the views of the Old City and the Roman Ruins from the patio.

Today, we experienced a very different shade of brown in Amman. This morning we were greeted with slightly cooler temperatures and strong breezes. It seemed a pleasant reprieve from the previous days' heat until I realized that we were in the midst of a dust storm. The cloud that covered the city was thick and left a film on my skin and hair as I sat outside the neighborhood falafel stop at lunch.

While a little more of the Wild Jordan variety of green and a little less of the dust storm's shade of brown would be nice, as is apparent by the prominence of these colors in the city flag, greens and browns define Amman.

Day 1: Royal Jordanian Daycare

This trip already shows promise of being one of the biggest adventures of my life and I've spent the majority of the time in airports. We arrived at BNA yesterday at 2:30pm to depart for Chicago and then continue to Amman. The flight to Chicago was aboard a very small commuter jet and Eric and I were unable to sit next to one another. Unfortunately for me, the lumberjack looking fellow that I sat next to was large and didn't seem to care that he took up not only his seat, but also the majority of mine. Upon arrival in Chicago, we switched terminals, discovered Eric's reservation had been lost, were sniffed by drug dogs, hyperventilated for a moment (ok, just me), ate ice cream, and boarded Royal Jordanian daycare (also known as our 12 hour flight). I have never seen so many children on a single flight, nor do I ever care to again!

It took over two hours for people to find their seats, realize they 1.) didn't like their seats, 2.) didn't consider that they would want their child seated with them, or 3.) didn't want to be in the middle of a row of 4 children whose parents were somehow seated at the other end of the plane, and find new seats. We were among the fortunate...there were no children behind us kicking our seats. We did, however, have a child who I am convinced knew only how to shriek at the top of his lungs and destroy anything he could get his hands on. The airline magazine was shredded in a matter of minutes; he somehow pulled out one of the life jackets from the seat bottom; he threw his utensils from every meal at least 2 rows in either direction; and at one point he climbed under his seat and curled up at our feet.

We finally arrived in Jordan. After a relatively quick trip through the visa line and a slightly longer trip to baggage claim our driver, Esam, met us and we were on our way to Eric's villa. It is Friday, which is the holy day here, so no one cooks tonight. There were picnic dinners being enjoyed all along the roadside and vendors were selling fresh fruits and veggies. Once we were settled, we walked about 1km and enjoyed some coffee, Chinese food, and ice cream. I was exhausted by the time we finished, but I could have people watched for hours more. This is so different from anywhere I have ever been.