Sunsets, Which One is your Favorite?

 Aqaba

 Dead Sea

 Mount Nebo

 Jericho (sunrise)

Jerusalem 

Kingdom of Heaven Part II

As far as religious cities go, Jerusalem is by far the holiest one for Christians.  I've never considered myself to be religious, despite having a certain amount of upbringing around the christian faith.  I do however consider myself spiritual in way that is significantly different from any of the monotheistic religious.  With that being said I had quite the profound experience when I entered the tomb of Jesus.  Located inside the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the tomb was covered in protective scaffolding.   The line to enter was long, but moved quickly enough.  We were guided by a large man who pointed in the direction of a small hole, where we were required to duck in order to enter. The room was dead silent and small, but in front of us lay the tomb as well as a quaint shrine devoted to Jesus. In all honesty I'm not one to pray.  I never feel that it is fair to pray when I have done so little to show I deserve the completion of a request. Instead, I sat there silently and did my best to show respect, I'm hoping the respect was mutual.
  After visiting the Church of the Holy Sepulchre I knew it would be impossible to top it, but going to the Dome of the Rock was a pretty incredible experience as well.  Unfortunately I was unable to enter, because I am of course, not Muslim. The architecture and mass were still a spectacular sight none the less.  There were numerous churches to visit even the place of the Last Supper, but one of my fondest memories was climbing the Mount of Olives, where the famous Jewish graveyard is located.  From the top of the Mount you could see all of Jerusalem surrounded by the great Ottoman walls and even the glowing gold dome of the Mosque.  The sun began to set and the call to prayer echoed throughout the hills.
  The second most important city to the Christian faith has to be Bethlehem, where Jesus was born.  The group made its way to the Church of the Nativity and was able to get a tour guide for about 2 dollars.  His name was Sammy, and was extremely educated on the temple and spoke great English.  He explained how difficult it has been to find work, due to the low number of tourists and was grateful for any amount of money we could give him.  After visiting the birthplace of Jesus we wanted to see the walls surrounding the city.  Many different graffiti pictures illustrated the struggle of those living within the fortifications. Foot traffic was dense and moved quickly, while salesmen lined the street trying to sell anything from socks to toy guns; silverware to fresh lemonade; fine Jewelry to simple scarves. It was pure chaos and to top it off a faint scent of rotten vegetables was inescapable.
  That night we made our way to one of the more American bars in Jerusalem.  We struck up conversation with one of the locals who was originally from America, but moved to Jerusalem.  He was a proud citizen and bragged about Israel and the valor of the soldiers who have protected it, as well as the tree planting programs. There was a stark contrast between the Palestinian and the Israeli.  I was able to visit the Holocaust Museum before I left for Tel Aviv and it was certainly powerful, but we arrived late in the day and our time there was cut short due to the scheduled closing.

 Church of the Nativity 

 Wall

 Mount of Olives

 Dome of the Rock

 Forrest view from Holocaust Museum 

Kingdom of Heaven Part 1

On September 8th,  a group of students from the CET program and I made our way to Jerusalem around four o'clock.  We left only two hours after our last class on a Thursday.  Getting into Jerusalem is not an easy task and it turned into multiple step endeavor.  First it took roughly an hour to travel from Amman to the King Hussein Bridge.  The taxi driver could only get so close to the boarder crossing due to regulations, so we were forced to switch taxi drivers in a small town.  This small town smelt of rotten vegetables and was infested with black flies. The second taxi cab's windshield looked as if someone threw a rock at.  The glass was broken and looked like a cob web.
  Once we arrived at the border crossing it wasn't clear where to go exactly, but we made our way into one of the buildings.  Lines are practically none existent in the Arab world.  It was madness trying to acquire a simple bus boarding ticket.  We were required to hand our passports to a police officer and then wait for them to be delivered to us on the bus -giving up my passport for any period of time in a foreign country is stressful to say the least.  It took about an hour on the bus to get to the arrival center of Israel, due to the many checkpoints.  The arrival center was chaotic as well.  People pushing and shoving to have their bags checked.  Unfortunately my bag wasn't small enough to take with me through the metal detectors and I had to send it through the bag check.
  As my bag was being checked, I went to get my Visa, which is the worst part of the whole journey.  I waited in line until it was my turn and then walked up to the desk where a young women was sitting.  She was far from welcoming and barely acknowledged that I was standing in front of her.  She started interrogating me and told me if I lied I would be sent back to Jordan.  After about five minutes of questions she let me through.  Almost everyone in the group made it through except one person.  We waited an additional two hours, while they were "clearing things up".  We spent another hour exchanging money, and then about thirty minutes waiting for a form of transport.  After an hour long bus ride through the west bank we finally made it to Jerusalem.  The entire trip took seven hours.
  I never once felt culture shock living in Jordan for several weeks.  I did however experience it upon the arrival of Jerusalem when we were surrounded by Jewish men in their traditional garb, clean streets and large crowds of people drinking outside of bars. It was excited to be in such a different atmosphere, but it was a long day of traveling and all I wanted was to check into the hostel.  We were welcomed with a free beer and wifi, so things looked like they were turning around.
  Despite the late night, we went on a tour around 11 in the morning.  A Palestinian offered to give us a tour of the old city, for 50 shekels, which was about 12 dollars a person.  He brought us to all the most famous spots in the city, and even suggested eating a Kebab from the Muslim district.  Our last stop, Church of the Holy Sepulchre, was were I was able to ask about his personal life.  Apparently, he was born in Jerusalem while it was under Jordanian control, and owns a Jordanian passport.  This means that he can only get the three month Visa that anyone can get by crossing the border.  This visa doesn't allow you to get a job in the country.  I realized that he was working as a tour guide unofficially.  Either way, he was a kind and smart man who deserved every penny he received.
  Walking around the Muslim district brought about an odd relief, almost like a feeling of security.  The most common Language in Jerusalem is Hebrew.   Everyone speaks Hebrew and the signs are in Hebrew.  The Muslim district was all Arabic, and I had a much better chance at communicating and finding what I wanted there.  Most places in Jerusalem were tourist traps and far more expensive than I liked, but the Arabs offered fair prices and so I had one of the city's famous Kebab sandwiches from  the Muslim district.  It was only 8 shekels.

Jerusalem

 The group and Tour Guide

 Old City

 Wailing Wall and Dome of the Rock

 Church of the Holy Sepulchre

الشباب

Welcome to Jordan

Now that I've been here for a couple of weeks, classes are becoming more difficult and time consuming.  Syllabus week is over, and now homework is a daily occurrence,  three times a week I need to meet with a language partner, and I have become accustomed to a routine.   Class can be extremely difficult due to the fact the class is taught in Arabic, meaning all directions are in Arabic.  In addition to this, questions must be asked in Arabic, so if you don't know whats going on good luck communicating that to the teacher.  Homework tends to be a lot of memorization that can get old, fast.  Usually by the end of the day my mind is pretty fried,  adding homework and language partners only adds to the frustration.
  The weekends are the only relief, when you can finally get away from the CET building and make your way deeper into the city.  On Friday I found myself at a hotel pool with loud music and a bar.  The bar offered two free drinks and the whole party was sponsored by a cigarette company.  It was strange to be in the middle of a desert in a city with a strong Islamic culture and enjoying alcohol in swim-shorts while standing in a refreshing pool.  I understand culture immersion is an important, but the opportunity was hard to pass-up, especially when a break was so desperately needed.  Following the afternoon in the pool we all went to Rainbow Street and enjoyed some chicken wings from a restaurant that definitively stole their business theme from Buffalo Wild Wings.
  The programs first break is next week and its for an entire week.  I have already made plans to travel to Jerusalem and Tel Aviv.  Who knows what adventures await.

 Fountains Seem to be Popular Here

 Plane from Six-Day War

 Amman

Pool Party

Arabic Music I Enjoy

 El Morabba3 & El Far3i - Taht il Ard

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0I2Prf3RQ6E&list=PLotFYHdDPdajunGpXEt7rTcjQx7Az0Kmv&index=2

JadaL -Kanz

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_b6TcXfLKlc&index=1&list=PLotFYHdDPdajunGpXEt7rTcjQx7Az0Kmv

Mashrou' Leila - 3 minutes

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5Tag1BwhqY&index=3&list=PLotFYHdDPdajunGpXEt7rTcjQx7Az0Kmv

When Things go Wrong at the American Embassy.

I have just finished my first week of classes.  To start it off, it was required of me to take a language pledge, which pretty much means I am only allowed to speak in Arabic.  With such a limited vocabulary its difficult to have casual conversation, but when there is something I need, I can usually manipulate the words I know to get my point across.  On our last day of class for the week, the class enjoyed making an Arabic dish.  The name of the dish is called "Kofta Tehini".  It includes ground lamb meet, potatoes, onions, parsley and Tehini sauce.  It was definitely better than the meals I have been making.
  To finish out the week some of my friends and I attempted to enter a party at the United States Embassy.  Apparently, one of the students knew someone who was stationed there.  After going through a rigorous security check that involved metal detectors, x-rays, and the removal of cell-phones, we were able to obtain an escort.  We were also required to wear visitor badges.  Once we made it inside we were able to get drinks.  There was music, a bar, and a nice patio where a lot of people were sitting.  After about ten minutes though we were all kicked out.  The "commanding officer" didn't know us and felt uncomfortable with us being there. Again we were escorted and then forced to leave the property.  A pretty thrilling forty-five minutes in my opinion.  Instead of going to the embassy party we went to a place called Paris Cafe.  Extremely westernized, it was honestly a relief after being bombarded by Arabic culture and language.  We ordered a couple rounds of drinks and danced until one in the morning.  Staying in groups, we made our way home using taxi's.
  The next day, in major need of a coffee, I set out to brew my own Turkish coffee using a tea pot and ibrik.  It involves boiling water the coffee grounds several times.  I enjoy doing stuff that's hands on here liking cooking or making coffee.  There isn't to much to do in the apartment besides study or watch Arabic television. I'm not very well equipped here.  I found some peppercorn at one of the small stores along the street.  After purchasing and bringing it home.  I realized I didn't have a grinder, but there was a pestle and mortar.  Even doing laundry is more difficult.  No one uses a dryer here, so we all use a drying rack on our balcony.
  Even though I get stared at every now and again, I honestly feel pretty safe here, and I'm slowly getting the lay of the land.  Hopefully, I'll adventure further and further out of my protective bubble provided by CET.

 Better Image of Paths Lined with Trees

 Turkish Coffee in an Ibrik 

 Kofta Tehini

The Gang at Paris Cafe 

Don't let Spilled Coffee Ruin your Day

  I intended to write and post a blog last night, but the internet was down.  The poor internet seems to be a problem that I will have to suffer through for the rest of the semester.  Yesterday was the first day of classes and it went smoothly.  We actually got to go out for lunch as part of a class activity.  Using knew vocabulary we were able to request our food in Arabic.  I also received my last bag yesterday, and now I feel as though I can finally relax here.
  I'm slowly finding my routine.  This morning I went across the street to a cafe.  Unfortunately, on my way out I spilled my coffee all over my hand and burned myself in front of the store owner.  It was embarrassing and didn't help my appearance. Further down the street I found a bakery and bought what appeared to be a cheese danish.  Class was a bit long today.  Mostly going over grammar.  After class, the students and I worked on a project that involved creating a film about furniture and activities in each room.
  After about a week here I have collected a fair amount of dust on my shoes from all the walking.  It seems that wherever I go there are people staring at me.  Hopefully after a while people will become accustom to American students.  Some shop owners even laugh when they hear us attempt to purchase food or items for our apartments in Arabic.  It's strange.  Here, you can always find Nutella in each store.  I finished my night with an episode of "Arab's Got Talent", which was equally as entertaining as its American counterpart.

 The View From the Gym

Oh look, some Clouds on Wednesday  

School Paths lined with Trees for Shade

Orientation Day

Today wasn't too exciting.  Most of my time was taken up by orientation and then the OPI exams.  I finished my exam around 6 o'clock at night and rushed to the grocery store.  It's about a mile, which in the sun can really take a toll on you.  I grabbed some food basics, pasta, bread, potatoes, an onion, chicken, beef, olive oil, and rice.  I spent a little under thirty dinars, which was less than I was expecting.  One of my biggest fears is not eating enough calories in a day.  I'm use to eating as much as possible at home, but I don't want to spend a ridiculous amount of money.  I'm sure I will figure out food after I've been here for a while.  After going to the grocery store, I made it to the gym, finally.  It cost fifty dinars for three months which is cheaper than what I was paying in the states.  The owner seems nice and one of the members talked with me for a bit.  Overall solid day, but still waiting for my second bag.
  There are a couple of cultural things I'd like to share before I forget.  The roads here are a dangerous place.  Cars fly by and rarely stop for pedestrians.  Their best way of communicating is through hunks, head nods, and hand jesters.  These signals can be seen consistently through the day and heard all through the night.  The only way to actually cross the street is by J-walking.  For the most part this is an individual playing Frogger across the road.  If you happen to be in the middle of the road and a car comes up to you.  The car does not stop.  Instead it dodges you, without even some courtesy room.
  I've been here a couple days now and sometimes I think I hear what sounds like an ice cream truck.  It comes by frequently enough that it possibly could be.  After an out from the apartment, I discovered that it's actually a propane truck.  I still can't figure out why the propane truck plays a jingle.
  When walking down the side-walk, one must be careful of the rubble and un-even ground.  Trash is easily avoided and so is the shit that is found here and there.  The first time I saw shit on the side of the road I wondered where it came from.  The other night I was walking home, and parked in the middle of the sidewalk was a donkey.  I think its safe to say it was his fault.
  I have been seeing trash all over the place and sometimes right next to garbage cans that are actually everywhere along the street and next to buildings.  I thought people really just didn't care that much, but I have started to notice a high frequency of people scrounging through trash cans.  These people literally take out bags, rip them open, and leave unwanted trash wherever it falls.  I'm not really sure what brought these people to do it.  Although, I have a few ideas.
  On a higher note, the teas and coffees offered around the city are more than good.  Often stronger than American tea or coffee, with the right amount of sugar and milk they are delicious.  Sometimes black is even preferred.   Recently I've enjoy Karak Tea, which is prepared authentically here and very popular.  It's the equivalent of a Chia in the states.  For coffee, I enjoy Turkish Coffee.  It's strong and only a small cup can keep you up for hours.

Day Two

   It's my second day in Jordan and so far I haven't experienced any cultural shock.  My morning started like most, hitting the snooze early in the morning and sleeping in another hour.  I pried myself out of bed at around nine o'clock.  I quickly got dressed in a borrowed shirt and my previous days jeans, along with a pair of complimentary socks provided by Emirates Airline.  I still hadn't gone grocery shopping so I grabbed the last orange and called it breakfast.  With nothing else to do, but study, I sat in front of my notebook and went over vocabulary.  before I knew it, one of the instructors walked into the room and handed me my placement exam for classes.  Each section lasted an hour, starting with writing, then reading comprehension, and finishing with grammar.  The exam was extremely difficult and exhausting.  My Arabic was more than rusty and I struggled to come up with vocab I knew I had learned.  At the end I was handed worksheets that would be used on class starting Monday.  Famished, my roommate and I walked down the street to grab sandwiches.  The middle of the day was too hot to sit outside, so we rushed back to our air conditioned room.  I began skimming through the worksheets and tried to memorize some of the words.
  My studying was interrupted, but at least with some good news. My roommate announced that my luggage had arrived.  A wave of relief flooded my body and I rushed out of the room.  Not only did the delivery service bring my luggage to the building, they brought it straight to the room.  My excitement faded as soon as I saw that there was only one bag.  I asked where the other one was located, but the delivery man stared at me blankly.  The doors shut on the elevator and he was gone. I hurriedly called the baggage service company and after five failed attempts I gave up.  Shortly after, I received an email that the second bag was received in Amman, but still in processing and would arrive within the next few days.  I was confused why the bags were separated and one would take longer than the other to arrive, but just knowing I would soon be reunited with all my luggage made me happy enough not to question it.
  Around 5:30 all the students from the academic program collected themselves outside the building and we loaded up into buses.  The buses went through the more western parts of town, until we ended up at the Don Quichotte Restaurant.  The restaurant was beautiful and more up scale than what was offered near my apartment.  Most of the tables were outside, shaded by a roof, but there were no walls. Well decorated, with a good energy, I can understand why we were brought there.  The meal was decedent and filling.  Three courses were served including a dessert.  As good as the food was, the time offered an opportunity to get to know other students.  Soon it will become difficult to talk so easily, due to the language pledge. We returned to the apartments around eight, but many were still energized and wanted to return to the streets.  A group of us returned to the Hollywood Cafe.  This time I enjoyed some shisha and made a good friend, Blake.  We are planning on traveling to Lebanon for one of the breaks.  I feel like at this point I should be open to any opportunity, so why not.  Tomorrow is orientation and hopefully I will receive my last bag, but who knows.  If I do, I'll be sure to start going to the gym as soon as possible.  Its been too long and I think it will help get me back on a routine.

 My Street

 Don Quichotte Restaurant

Don Quichotte Restaurant

A Few Photos from the Flight

Coke Cola Can

Dubai

  Saudi Arabia 

Day One

  Coming off the plane in Amman, Jordan was a relief.  After more than twenty-four hours of traveling I was glad to be at my destination.  Customs wasn't a hassle at all and currency exchange was simple.  the biggest problem came with my luggage or lack there of. My bags got lost during my travels, but I was assured by the baggage service that they would be found and delivered to my apartment.

 Once I made it to the entrance lobby, my new task was to find a taxi.  It wasn't difficult.  After about twenty paces from leaving the building a man approached me and asked if I needed a taxi (in English).  He brought me to a kiosk and a group of men all wearing a taxi company's uniform were huddled around it.  He picked a young man from the group who then escorted me to his vehicle.  I gave him the address that was typed on a paper along with other directions.  We made small talk in Arabic about where I'm from and what I'm doing in Arabic.  Then in English, he told me he doesn't know exactly how to get to the address.  A few moments later I see him honk and signal to another cab driver.  We got off at an exit that led to a side road.  The other taxi followed behind and then we both pulled over.

  My cab driver got out and made his way to the other.  They talked for several moments and then my driver came back.  He told me that the other taxi would bring me to my address and demanded twenty two dinar (Jordanian currency).  The whole situation freaked me out.  I was assured that the cab driver would know how to get to my address.  I had never heard of a taxi giving up his passenger for another to collect on.  The situation seemed odd, but my only other option was to deny his request and sit on the side of the road in the middle of a foreign country.  I reluctantly made my way to the second cab.  Again we made small talk about where I was from and why I was in Jordan.  I was freaking out quietly, but did my best to keep my composure.  

  Eventually we made our way to an intersection and the turn made was in the direction of the city of Amman.  I began to calm down.  I was offered a cigarette. I turned it down.  In response he stuffed his hand into his pocket and rolled down both our windows.  The hazy air hit me instantly.  Although it wasn't heavy from humidity it still carried a dry weight from the desert dust and exhaust from the thousands of cars around us.  The highway was familiar.  A lot of cars traveling quickly with a fair amount of traffic but nothing obscene.  Once we made it into Amman the traffic began to build and the speed slowed until cars were bumper to bumper.  Tan buildings roughly five stories high seemed to surround the road for miles.  Each one indistinguishable from the last.  The more we drove the closer together the buildings became and soon I found myself deep in Amman.  Like a tour guide the cab driver pointed out the window at different university buildings.  We closed in on my address and he pulled over, got out of the car, and went into a Pizza Hut.  I waited, uncomfortably, but he returned shortly.  He turned the vehicle around and drove about fifty meters up a hill.  Finally I had arrived at my final destination.  He expected no money, apparently my previous cab driver payed him for the trip and he expected no tip.  Thank God, because my Jordanian Dinars were limited. 

  My roommate arrived shortly after me with an equally odd cab story.  His name is Justin. He is 28 and from Mississippi.  Previously an assistant manager at a pharmacy, he came to Jordan in hopes of becoming an Arabic teacher back in the states.  A major life change, but I can appreciate it. 

  It wasn't difficult to fall asleep or stay asleep.  I ended up sleeping for twelve hours.  Waking up at eleven really disrupts what you can do in the day.  I ended up hanging out in the apartment and skimming through one of my Arabic books.   I spent a bulk of the afternoon, trying to track my bags, but they hadn't arrived yet.  Trying to keep my mind off the bags my roommate and I made our way to the restaurants that lined the street near our apartment.  We met two girls in our building,  Molly and Kirby, who also were a part of my education program.  Walking along the streets for the first time in the light revealed how gross the city was compared cities in America. Trash was not only on the ground, but also blowing in the wind.  Mangy cats roamed the street and shop owners desperately swept their stoops.  Tables and other flat surfaces constantly needed to be cleaned due to the light dust blown by the wind.

 We got a bite to eat at a sandwich shack and then made our way to a coffee shop, named Hollywood Coffee.  Nothing Hollywood about it besides a giant sign that proclaimed it.  None the less, the atmosphere was great.  Tea, coffee and shisha were served.  We spent the next two hours enjoying the drinks and conversation.  On the walk back we came across a gym that I'm sure will be visited frequently in the future.  Once I returned, I called the bag service again; one bag was found and they are still searching for the other.  Hopefully in one more day they will be delivered.