romans and the feeling of getting behind

Roman Ruins revisited...

















I seem to have fallen a bit behind in posting here, but what can I say -- life is hectic. When I'm not meeting the CEO of Company yadda yadda, I'm riding to the far reaches of the city to find seemingly the Only printing press in town that prints on t-shirts. When I'm in the office I spend the time I'm not working staring at the other people who "work" in the same basement office as me and watch as they light paper on fire and then blow it out -- for hours. I still have no idea what they do besides watch tv and smoke, but hey, maybe when I'm gone at meetings they are toiling endlessly.

I digress.

This friday we went to Jebel Qa'la, site of Amman castle and some lovely Roman ruins. Fridays in Amman are pleasantly traffic and people free because people are spending time at the mosque or with their families -- this leaves the city free to explore for the rootless among us. We'd been to the ruins once before, but they had been closed, so this was our second expedition to the top of the hill.

It's quite a view looking over the city -- to one side is an enormous Jordanian flag, which I use as an orientation point while walking anywhere within a 5 mile radius of downtown. One the other side is the Roman Amphitheater, the wonderful haven of with a pleuthora of mint tea and strange men to follow you around.

The call to prayer begins. Another mosque answers, beginning the call next. Soon it begins to sound like rounds of voices projected over scratching intercom systems echoeing around the hills and reaching us in chorus.

We wander through the various rooms of the castle, playing archeologist and guessing at what might be a toilet or a well, or a bed. Ruins here are not kept behind any fences or gates -- there is not a guard in sight as we climb the walls to find a breeze and escape the midday heat.

I can feel a sunburn coming on so we walk towards downtown, finding a complex series of hidden staircases. Some of them end abruptly, some walk through people's kitchens, but all of them take us closer to the posh restaurant Wild Jordan where we partake in delicious smoothies and read the news.

The weekend ends with a trip to the swimming pool complete with gawking teenage boys and then a shopping trip to find traditional Jordanian clothes.

I'm off to Poland in a week. Hurrah!

Ajloun castle

I love that they let you climb just about anywhere at this castle, including precarious slippery stairs. Guess there aren't as many lawsuits here.

the times i wish my life was recorded

There is nothing quite like traipsing about random dirt roads in the countryside of Jordan in a business suit trying to hail a taxi. I have never received more stares. Even in Africa.

Black suits are not conducive to hiding layers of sand.

Who knew.

like a sore thumb

Last night around 8 o'clock the music started.

We have a large dirt patch behind our apartment building, the size of a soccer field or so, where cars drive around in circles, children kick around soccer balls, and people throw their garbage once the mountain around the actual trash bins has become unreasonable. Not the most festive of places in my mind.

Apparently not so in the mind of my neighbors.

As the music begins to blast, I run out to our balcony and find that a part of the dirt patch has been transformed into an impromptu dance floor, complete with plastic rugs and chairs all around. First guess, this must be a wedding! Soon we'll hear the honking parade of cars arriving and then we'll go down and join in the dancing. The guests begin to arrive and this plan of inconspicuous party crashing goes out the window. All the attendees are males. Teenage boys.

Hmmm.

I watch from a distance as the dancing begins in earnest, All of the boys dancing, holding hands, dancing with each other, which is utterly and completely normal here. I try to imagine this happening in a club in the US. Doubtful.

The call to prayer begins at our neighborhood mosque and the music is turned off momentarily as people continue to mingle and eat the piles of food that have been unloaded from a moving van. Not a second after the loudspeakers of the mosque are shut off, the music begins to blast and the dancing continues.

And the fireworks begin -- Exams! These fireworks are for passing the highschool exam. Funny how my brain cells have already begun to make connections like this.

The music continues late into the night and becomes background music for my dreams.

an addendum

to keep my blog accurate, i wanted to add that it has come out that the man charged with the shooting of the Jewish Federation of Greater Seattle has been living with mental illness for the past 10 years.

his family apologized for his actions saying that they didn't want it to be perceived as a hate crime.

i still stand by my statement that these violent acts, for any reason, happen everywhere.