I must say, it's really rather ridiculous how much time I
spent wasted trying to capture an adequate image of the rash on my face. Truly, what have I become?
Yes, I'll post the most successful attempt so you can see. The thing is, it's not that bad of a rash! But it was rather itchy, and I've been quite impatient with my week and a half of being sick here - so it seemed a major aspect of my trip to cover with a good photo! And probably no one really cares much. Because a visit to the pharmacist, resulting in a little box of anti-histamine pills and a cortisone cream has had a very positive effect. Not a big deal at all. And it cost me a fraction of the price it would have cost in the States!
Well, doesn't capture the rash so much as the view up my nose! Ah well.
I did discover, however, that Halls cough drops in Jordan are better than in the States. At least, I think so. The little package was mint flavored, so it's like sucking on an after-dinner mint! Who wouldn't love that? I can't comment on its effectiveness - I still have a bit of a cough. But I sure pop those drops like candy! And all around me enjoy my minty fresh breath!
I have a few photos to embellish my description of local "sights and sounds." And I must confess that my assessment of the trash situation was a bit narrow-sighted. As I have walked around and paid a bit more attention, I notice that, although there is certainly a great deal more trash than is usual in most places in the US and Europe that I have visited, it seems to be concentrated in certain areas, such as empty lots and fields. I walk through one such empty lot on my way to school each day, so it seems quite frequent - but the streets themselves are actually mostly trash-free. Some neighborhoods, like one I walked through a couple of days ago, actually seemed like Beverly Hills transplanted to Amman! Lots of Palm trees, big, beautiful houses, fenced and gated with expensive cars in the driveway - and no trash whatsoever.
I have ventured out a little more the last few days. I walked for probably a mile and a half (and another mile and a half back) with a friend the other night to find a little place he had heard about that served Koshari - an Egyptian street dish. It was amazing! And very filling! I got through just over half of my bowl, and Kyle (my friend) eagerly shoveled down (and that is
not an exaggeration of his eating habits) the rest. He regretted it during the walk home.
The other grand adventure was to a place the likes of which I rather avoid in the US: a mall. I left my running shoes in Virginia (does that sound like the title of a song to anyone else?), and the other shoes I had intended to bring got packed up in the legendary 3-hour move that my dear (and incredibly efficient!) friends performed for me the last day of February. So, I have been wearing the same pair of sandals here in Jordan - and I'm none too sure that women wearing sandals is socially acceptable. If not, oh well! So, I needed some shoes, and particularly some exercise shoes. I did check out the "mall" near to me here, and I just couldn't bring myself to pay good money for shoes I quite disliked. So, I pointedly sought out a place that would have "western" options. I am proud to report that I successfully told the taxi driver that I wanted to go to the "Taj Mall" (that has to be a play on words!), purchased three pairs of excellent shoes (they had a Payless!), a belt (American Eagle) and a shirt (H&M), and told the next taxi driver how to arrive at my house. I have mastered, "Right here, left here, straight," etc. Quite an accomplishment.
Speaking of taxis and adventures, my first adventure in a taxi was to attend church last Friday. Yes, church is held Friday, in keeping with the local weekly holy day. Armed with a somewhat vague map, some key phrases, and all the guts I could muster, I hailed a taxi last Friday morning, praying the Lord would provide a kind, honest and patient driver. He did. But it still didn't go completely smoothly. I was able to tell him the general vicinity, and he arrived to the "Fifth Circle, near Sheraton Hotel" with no problem. It was at this point that I froze. I knew I needed to go left, but also something else - what was it!? In the panic of the moment, I just told him to turn left, fumbling terribly with the awkward words, and realized we were on a road I recognized from the map, near the road I needed, but not the correct one. I asked the driver if he knew of Princess Basma Road, but he didn't (apparently they never know street names, but landmarks - it's a cultural thing). He drove a couple of more blocks before I finally just told him to let me out there - I didn't think, for some reason, to look at the map on my phone and try to direct him to the correct street/building. I could use a little walk anyway.
Well, 45 minutes later, I entered what appeared to be a completely empty, unfinished office building. I had found the road (sigh of relief!), although I never did see a street sign (most roads do, thank goodness, have street signs), and had walked and walked (like the Pioneer Children) down it, looking for number 194. Most of the buildings, which were few and far between on this particular street, didn't have numbers. When I arrived at a certain stop light, I realized I had gone too far - but how had I missed it? So, I backtracked, found the strange, empty office building (but then I did notice it had about 5 cars in front), and studied it for a few moments before I realized it did, in fact, have a 194 posted on the side. Phew! They could have made
that more prominent!
But things didn't get much easier once I went inside. It was, as I had feared, entirely empty, and I could discern no singing, talking - nothing. Silence. I opened one door - and it felt like some eerie James Bond movie - just unfinished office rooms, power lines dangling, etc. I checked out the stairs, which were dark and silent - I wasn't going to venture there! I got on the elevator and went up a few floors - each as dark and uninviting as the last. So, I went back down to the ground floor. Of course, I had again overlooked a key element: a sign that had the names of about 5 or 6 different organizations that apparently used this building. LDS Charities was on floor 1.
I got back in the elevator (no stairs in that frightening place, thank you!), up a floor, and found myself stepping into a classic, LDS church setting, complete with beige, nondescript walls, the usual paintings, floral patterned couches - the works. I could hear someone speaking (they had just finished the Sacrament, so perhaps I would have heard something downstairs if it hadn't been for that), and wandered until I found the chapel.
The meeting was lovely - really very much some words I needed to hear. In Relief Society, a woman came to introduce herself and sit by me, and then she invited me to her home afterward. What a blessing! She and her beautiful family and additional adopted daughter (a young single woman living with them while she works as a social worker with refugee children from Iraq and Syria) welcomed me with nothing less than open arms - literally! I got so many hugs, played Uno and other games, was even fought over! Not to mention a delightful lunch.
Niki's husband, Tobias, works for the US State Department in Cultural Affairs. While I joined the family for a walk, I quizzed him on various aspects of Jordan - he was a wealth of knowledge! I learned so much about the inner workings of Jordanian government and international relations, Jordan's economy and tribal elements, the huge (some estimate over 50% now) Palestinian population and how that affects political decisions, and the ever-looming Israel question. He complained of the way that Israel dominates politics in Jordan - and not just because of its military and economic dominance in the region (although this is, of course, a huge factor). Jordan's Palestinian (immigrant) population makes Israel a constant (and rather explosive) issue. He also noted that, although Israel must always be the punching bag, and serves as a reliable source of political unity, it really plays a very small role in people's actual daily lives - even those drawn to extreme political measures.
A final interesting point he mentioned was the way that ISIS (Da'ash) is perceived in Jordanian society. We all know about the Jordanian fighter pilot who was burned to death by this radical group - apparently in an attempt to rally marginalized Jordanians to their cause by attacking Jordan's military, thus proving their might and courage. The attempt, according to everything Tobias can see, has backfired. Public opinion polls indicated before this event, 65% of Jordanian society disagreed with ISIS - a pretty definitive number, but not overwhelming. Now, although data is still coming in, as much as 95% of society oppose it. Those who might be likely to join the group have mostly gone underground. Apparently US intelligence works closely with that of Jordan, even more so than with Israel, and various dangers do still exist, but Jordan's resistance to terrorism is strong.
So, quite an interesting day. I wish I had time to write about it all for you. But I must get busy on homework. I moved up a level in Arabic - which is good for me, but means a LOT of homework and catching up. Love to you all!
Below are a few photos to capture some of my experience.
My walk to school each day (although I still haven't taken a picture of the super steep hill that I walk up to get to this point)
Note the abandoned car (they're rather frequent) and the school bus/van.
On the right are some shops, the left some apartments. In the distance, you can just make out "Al-Mukhtar Mall," which has various shops and even a French-owned grocery store.
This house is under construction. I am fascinated by the way the roof has apparently been hammered off, and replaced with what looks like a quite haphazard cement base for the second floor. This picture doesn't capture it, but I am shy about pulling out my camera/phone too much. I do try to be somewhat inconspicuous.
On my way home that day, some sheep visited my hilly shortcut.
My dinner tonight: Lentils. I know, it looks like something that someone either puked or pooped. But it was delicious! On the left is the culprit responsible for the strange color: a purple carrot. All the regular, orange carrots were in huge bundles that I can't possibly eat before they would go bad, so I bought these beauties. Makes for a strange lentil stew, but tasted great!
This is my selection of spices. Can you tell what they are? Me either! No label. So, I smell each one, and if it smells right, I dump some in. So far, it has gone alright. (They're in a drawer of the kitchen, from some past student with culinary tendencies.)
