Sights, sounds, and smells of Amman

I think it is perhaps the sounds that are most interesting, and most challenging, to describe. As I type (sitting up in my bed, feeling a little sorry for myself because I can't seem to beat this cold I have developed, and because I also seem to have developed a rash on the bottom of my right cheek and down my neck), the soundscape is a blend of a jackhammer down the street doing some kind of work (not sure what); the gas truck that comes around every half hour or so, with its little mournful-dancing tune announcing its presence to anyone who finds themselves in need of a tank of propane; another truck likewise making its round, although I don't know what it's selling - it could be vegetables, as I saw a vegetable truck parked down the road a couple of evenings back (in any case, it sounds like an ice cream truck); a third roaming loudspeaker, presumably on a truck, also proclaiming its wares, this time with various repeated phrases in Arabic - again, I don't know what it's selling; and last, but not least, my own sniffles and the occasional cough.

As I take a sip of chamomile-lavender tea, I think how grateful I am to my friend Irena for shoving various packets of healing teas into my backpack as I headed out her door on my way here. They're almost gone now, and I'll have to brave the market to get some more.

The gas truck apparently drives slowly around the neighborhood all day everyday (I can't imagine how dull that must be!), blasting that tune. The tune itself fascinates me - it is somewhat haunting, alternating between a minor and major key, in a harmony that sounds almost like an old, broken music box for its lack of being clearly in tune, and for its thin, tinkling sound. It seems an odd choice of song, and I find myself trying to place it - is it slavic? is it a dance tune? It almost seems to be some kind of folk dance tune, except it keeps no apparent rhythm that I can pin down, not even in a kind of unmetered way. It's impossible to describe, so I'll give up the battle. But it haunts me, leaving floating pieces of minor/major alternating chords bouncing in my head all hours of the day.

The night before last I ventured out on a walk to try to get a sense of my bearings here. Since it was approaching dusk, I didn't go out for long, but I walked up various streets. Jordan is a very hilly country! This is no surprise, I guess, as Israel and the Palestinian territories are the same, but one becomes much more aware of the hills, and their steepness, when one huff and puff up them! It is not for the weak-kneed (quite literally). I found various fruit/vegetable markets, a couple of pharmacies, and a man who grills spits of meat on a corner in the evenings. It smelled so tantalizing, I think I'll venture over there with some cash in the near future.

The houses/apartments in Amman all share a common feature: the pale limestone. All houses seem to be built of it, and thus they all look very much the same to me. Likewise, they are usually of similar heights (usually 4 story apartment buildings), so one must be very discerning when finding distinguishing marks to orient oneself. One of these for me is a mosque less than a block from me. Its minaret rises well above the houses and offers a defining point of reference, as well as a loud, penetrating call to prayer five times a day. (My least favorite is the one at about 4:30 am. I have not yet trained myself to sleep through it.)

Cars are common here - even very nice cars. I see all kinds, from old, well-used Hondas, to brand new, shiny Mercedes Benzes. Whereas the streets are usually quite littered with trash (often red or blue plastic bags, from the local fruit/veggie markets), and it's not uncommon to see what looks like an unfinished or rather thrown-together house (even nice buildings often have rebar poking out, ready to be used when the owner adds on to the house; and often an otherwise nice-looking home will have what appears to be a section of its exterior hacked up, then filled in rather messily with cement, marking an addition or repair), the cars are immaculate. I have noticed this before: the houses my be quite shabby, in various stages of disrepair, but the cars, even old ones, are kept nice and neat, and usually with a box of tissues (the common brand is "Nice") on the console.

Boxes or packages of tissues are everywhere. I do not know yet why - what is the custom? I know they use them to wipe sweat in the summer, and it is very nice to have a tissue handy when one's nose begins to itch or be ready for a good blow. Perhaps it is just we Americans that are odd for not keeping tissues with us everywhere.

Another ubiquitous sight is the children playing in the streets. They are not hoodlums, and they are extremely aware of cars and such - but they play in the street all the time. The boys, mostly kicking a soccer ball around. (Gas truck driving by again. It's like a bad dream!) I have seen only a few girls, sitting playing quietly on the curb, or in the small yard, playing with a doll. When cars go by, the boys quickly get out of the way. It is also completely normal to cross the street wherever and whenever, and to have a car very nearly clip you if you don't get out of the way. Yet there seems to be a general understanding and common sense about driving/walking in the streets. The streets, first and foremost, and shared territory, and cars and pedestrians share them equally. People don't fear the cars, and seem to trust the drivers' good will and common sense; the cars will drive right next to someone, or to another car, within centimeters - this is completely normal, and no one becomes agitated. Not in the least. And I rather like it. I know rules and cautions are good and all, but I admit this appeals to the side of me that gets irritated at overly cautious (thus, slow and in-my-way) drivers and pedestrians. It's a kind of ordered chaos, a common cultural understanding, and it works. At least, as far as I can tell. I don't keep up with Jordanian news enough to know if pedestrian accidents are common.

All of this, of course, describes residential streets. Major thoroughfares are a different story. Here pedestrians stay out of the way - although they will likely be walking along the side of the road (sidewalks do exist, but seem to be the exception, and when they are present, they usually only last a couple of blocks). The roads have lines designating traffic lanes, but they are completely ignored. I mean completely. It's a free-for-all on the road. Crossing over lines, squeezing four or more cars into lanes designated for two or three, darting into a traffic circle and expecting oncoming cars to make room. Driving here requires a great deal of nerve and nerves - acute awareness and good reflexes. But it's fun too! Kind of like bumper cars! I don't mind it a bit.

Despite the frequent trash, Amman's air seems generally clean and fresh, and I have not encountered any body odor like I did in Europe. People are clean, generally courteous and honest. I'm sure I'll be duped at some point and spend more than I need to, but so far, I have had positive experiences. (Except for being sick, either with stomach or cold stuff, the entire time I've been here.) I attended church yesterday, and it was a great day. But I'll save that for next post.