Treebeard

It's getting warm. Y'all should maybe know that the Middle East can get dang cold. Jordan has a winter that ain't no slouch. Zero degrees celcius and below if it feels the need. No central heating in most places compounds the matter. I've a friend that lived in Kuwait for his childhood and aparently down in the Gulf the heat sings like an unchained melody. Righteous. But he'd take his summers in Jordan cos it's cooler here than the lovin' oven of Kuwait. The poorly made point is the region is not all firesand all the time.

Actually the point was that's it was toasty yesterday and today's creeping too. Should be about 30 C. Farenheit that's about 9,000 though my vote is we all comprimise and use the Kelvin scale.

The Juice - She's the quasi-French, mostly Seattle English major. My age. Good sense of humor and actually got Atmosphere. Or at least liked old Sluggo. Almost cresent fresh.

Lynn Foot - Maybe she was around for the Great War, maybe not. She's unfamiliar with technology and chocolate. Also called ChocoPants. Lovingly, of course. Retired first grade teacher who loves rocks and nighttime spider walks. Hates fat people.

Duha - One of the hardest dang workers this side of anywhere. She was the language teacher for The Juice, Lynn Foot and my face. Palestinian-Jordanian trying to make her way in the world and seek out a national identity. Remarkable gal, hopefully to study in the US starting this summer. We'd be blessed to have her.

Yesterday was our last full day in Hil-Town. Our LPIs (Language Procicency Interviews) were done by 9:30 am and we had until 1:30 when our CD (Country Director) would coming for our closing PST (Pre-Service Training) interviews. YTPCIBOA. (Yes, the Peace Corps is big on acronyms.)

Normally we'd spend the day in language training, warring with the emphatic ponounciations of S, D and T and the connected conjugations of past tense. If anybody tells you Arabic is easy don't ever give them a birthday present, cos they're lying and who wants to do something nice for a liar? But yesterday now spent in mortal kombat. Rather, we chilled in the cool cement abandoned community center we take classes in. After an hour we lolligagged our way to Osama's cave Lynn found a few weeks ago...

I hiked down there last week. When I returned my host mom wanted to know if I was searching for Mad ben Laden. I thought it was hilarious.

...and puttered in the rock amphitheater next door. It's a solid rock ridge about thirty feet high and thirty feet long seperating two valleys. The view won't make you wet yourself, but it's prettier than my face so I'll call that a win. After a depressing and hopefully hopeful exchange on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, we sat and slowly got sunburnt on a ledge while Lynn Foot impromtu Master of Ceremonied a show starring us. The Juice did Shakespear, Lynn paraphased Mary Oliver, Duha quoted the verses from the Koran that are her namesake and I did "Pluto" by 2 Skinnee J's.

Was the stuff that movies try to capture but usually you're not convinced such revelry could happen. Except it did. Yesterday. In Jordan.

Easter Sunday Lynn Foot, The Juice and myself contracted Lynn Foot's host father to take us and the Vanns in his taxi to the sunrise service on Mount Nebo. Nebo before dawn was pretty amazing, and the view of the Jerusalem lights was hopefully depressing. We met half the other PCV's there and attented a largely tourist service by the Episcople church that runs the four million year old excavated church on Nebo's summit.

Worshiping with people from prolly 25 countries was a pleasent first. And the strawberries afterwords were delish.

Later on The Juice and I hit Amman and caught up with Duha at University of Jordan, about 30,000 students with 25 Americans in attendence. I met one of them. Then I met a couple Swedes, one of which was half Swede-half Yemenese. His sisters were half English/half Yemenese and since they didn't know Swedish, English was their common tounge. How neat.

We went with the Swedes, a few former Peace Corps volunteers still living in the country and the sisters Duha to a Yemenese restaraunt. Place was great. Times was great. Prolly one of the most relaxing afternoons I've had yet, chilling with the internationals. Half of them said they were envious of my expereince, cos theirs will remain largely academic and urban while I get to hit the goat streets of Jordanian village life.

Forgive the easy metaphor, but you ever been to the top of a skyscraper and looked over the edge? You can see people and cars, but they're slow and out of context. You can't hear the horns or voices, nor can you smell the hot dog stand or the exhaust. The heat doesn't bother you and...you get the point.

I'm grateful for my chance to be at street level, maaaaing at goats, shaking hands and hearing the call to prayer. I'm living in context. What better way?

Well crap in a hat. The Juice just failed me. I'm in Madaba and she took off for Amman for pre-site shopping and romping. Her duty was hit up the Saudi Embassy cos they give away free English-translated Korans there and get my face one. Failed. No Koran for me, only for herself. Totally fired.

Oh man, and the gypsys. They don't even speak Arabic, it's like a combo of Druz, Arabic and babble. So dope. They're completely outside of Jordanian society, the lowest of the low.

I want to hang out with them real bad. Cept I'll prolly be left naked and penniless in an olive grove. But the stories!

.......

Letzter Funf

In pursuit of brevity. - 20.07.2007

Re: Let's all watch a girl get beaten to death. - 14.07.2007

We're not getting there. - 14.07.2007

Somehow I lost all my Dropkick Murpheys. And this on the eve of my chowder va-ca-tion. - 02.07.2007

I need to write him a letter. - 21.04.2007