Welcome to Jordan

I here this often, mostly from cab drivers, "Welcome to Jordan!"  If I am lucky, they won't take advantage of my lack of Arabic and familiarity with the city.  If I'm unlucky, they won't start the meter in the cab, will charge 5 dinars (whereas any ride in the city will be under 3 dinars), or take a longer route.  Cabs are fun. 

I live in Dbouk, in villa #10.  (Property is not called a villa or an estate for no reason in Amman.)  Dina, my host mom, designed this house, and she calls it her dream home.  It certainly is.  The neighborhood is at the highest point in Amman, neighbor to King Abdullah II himself.  I can see his palace walls two miles away from my courtyard.  The sunsets over the city are wonderful from my vantage point.  Naseem, my 11 year old host brother, took me out to a hill, where we sat and sketched the villas on the opposite hill.   Dina asked if he watched carefully how I draw, and he said, "I memorized."

My host family is very sweet, always "feel right at home," "do whatever you want" and most importantly, "EAT!"  I hear that word every time I come home from class, anytime I do anything.  It's "eat!" "eat!" "eat!"  And Jordanian food is the best.  Dina explained in great length how nowhere else in the Middle East will you find food as good as Jordanian food.  She loves explaining things, for which I am very grateful.  Dina owns her own salon, designed the house, makes delectable sweets, and gardens beautifully. 

Classes started on Sunday, and I am looking forward to learning the colloquial Arabic.  It is very frustrating not speaking the language.  Learning Fasah - the modern standard Arabic - on the other hand, is not going to be a joy ride.  Tareq, my host father, even said that Jordanians don't understand fasah.  Oh well.

I bought a card reader for my camera so I will be uploading pictures soon! 

Salam!