I'm ready

If this trip has taught me anything, it has taught me that I want to grow up. Jobs in coffee shops and musicians who wanna make it big (or even worse, those who don't even have the drive to try) don't do it for me anymore. I don't want to be an artist, I don't want to be a writer, I don't want to live in Tucson.
But I do want to do amazing things. Everyone I have met and become close to in the last month have taught me that there are so many great opportunities out there, without me needing to give up on adventure. I have an opportunity to work in Palestine, or Toronto, or San Francisco, and there are jobs for me in London and Ghana and Geneva. Why settle? I want to see the world, but not with a backpack on my shoulder and 20 bucks in my pocket. I want to do good things for the world and meet people with ambition. I spent the past 18 years of my life in school, and I'll be damned if thats going to waste.

Hello future, I'm here.

I'm beginning to get anxious. How is my stay already wrapping up? So much we didn't do, and not enough time to cherish what we did. I've fallen in love with a city outside of my own. Who knew it was possible? There are so many words I should write, but I am busy drinking in my last hours here. Au revoir Amman. You have done more for me than you could possibly imagine.

a bit wordy perhaps

I would be content living exactly like this forever.

Where to even begin. There are so many things I have yet to write for nobody to read. Paul has made a nice little social circle of people who share this apartment complex. And their pre-furnished apartments have just as much personality as the residents themselves.
There is Josh, the charming British boy who spent a few years in New York and when not in Jordan has been living in Scotland. He tells stories better than almost anyone I have met, and will hold your attention endlessly telling the most seemly mundane tales. A mysterious creature, he always wears button up shirts gingerly tucked into his waistband. His house is donned with gaudy golden moldings, and sleeps in a huge princess bed each night.
There is Drew, a darling boy who goes to school in Boston, and has no one place he calls home. His manner of speech reminds me greatly of my Jorgenson brothers back home, but that is where the similarity ends. He has traveled extensively, and is a very gentle soul. He would put anyone at ease simply being in the same room as him.
There is Dustin, here visiting his boyfriend Niko, and like me has nothing to do during the day while Niko is off at work. We have adventured clear around this city and shared Fatatri, or Egyptian pizza-type things. He is who showed me the mango juice from the little stands downtown. (Two quarreling businesses set up shop on either side of a narrow alley entrance, and fight for your business as you walk past. He always goes for the one on the left). Dustin is what one might call a know-it-all, but in the most unoffensive way. Full of useful (and useless) information, when he defines words for you, you're glad to listen.
And there is Hannah. Paul's boss, a dear woman who is willing to help in any way possible, and has accompanied us on our adventures over this past weekend. A lovely tour guide, and interesting woman who is never short on stories. A true joy to be around, she is tough and worldly.
These are the few I have spent most my time with, although everyone I have met in this building could easily turn into dear friends I'm sure. After only a week it feels comfortable. It is reassuring to know that I could drop into any place and find amazing people. Although, obviously I must give Paul credit for this whole situation. I have simply weaseled my way into his niche here. I must take a portrait series before I leave.

So with these people I have come to love this city and more recently the surrounding country as well. The weekends here are Friday and Saturday, so Friday morning we had our first out-of-Amman excursion. Accompanied by Drew and Hannah, Paul and I hired a driver to take us to Wadi Mujib. A wadi simply means a valley or gorge, but in actuality they are often huge canyons with tall gorgeous walls. We started off wading through ankle deep water, with walls around us reaching up and touching the skies. Again, no photos or words could capture either the breadth or beauty of where we were. Climbing farther into the canyon, the water got steadily deeper until we were waist deep and approaching small waterfalls which we had to devise ways of shimmying over. 5 or 6 of these obstacles we all decided were not enough. It was truly a great time. At the end of the trail was a 30 or so foot tall waterfall, which we all climbed behind and watched the world from behind a curtain of falling water. On the way out, we sat in the water for 20 or 30 minutes and attempted to soak up every inch and nook and cranny of the place we were. A few photos were snapped, and I will eventually put some up somewhere.
The next stop was a short walk across the road, down to the Dead Sea. Looking like a scene on Tataouine from Star Wars, we descended a hill down to the warm, salty water. Now, swimming in this sea is an experience no human should be without. The density of the water is heavier than our bodies, so you just float. Putting your legs beneath you is a task in itself, and moving gracefully is out of the question. But woah. It is really an unbelievable feeling.
Yesterday we got a bit of sun poisoning, but it was worth it. With Hannah leading us around, we made our way to Jerash. This is a town a bit north of here full of amazing Roman and Byzantine ruins. Things like the Colosseum have nothing on this place. Jerash is an entire ancient city, with column-lined roads, untouched amphitheaters, and temples for the gods. We spent 4 hours wandering, snapping hundreds of photos which again I will post somewhere eventually.

While there has been no shortage of venturing out and about, some of my favorite things have been buying sandwiches from little shops and eating them in road-side parks and admiring the people passing by. Walking these streets with someone so dear to me is treat enough. While Paul snoozed last night, I found my favorite place in the entire apartment. Pushing open the screen in the kitchen window, I sat on the sill dangling my legs over a 4 story drop to the staircase below. I can gaze upon the ancient city and listen to the call to prayer, and pretend that this is my life.

So here I am. Exhausted but exhilarated. I will stroll up to Al Quds, the most amazing falafel stand, and buy myself lunch. Followed by a stop in the Jordanian treat shop for some fresh baked delicacies. I don't want to come home.

It is quite amazing how quickly one adapts to this culture. It isn't really a matter of choice, actually. You have to be quick on your feet, and know when someone wants to rip you off. It was as if something switched in my mind, and walking out our door this morning suddenly didn't seem frightening. I've been all over this town, from Rainbow street where we live, to the Souk with a bizarre foul sewer smell and the sweetest mango juice you can imagine, to Abdoun where mansions and Quicksilver stores are abound and overlook women in burqas tending their city-center fields and feeding their goats. To Weibdeh, where you will stumble upon hidden gardens and art museums are aplenty. To the ancient Roman amphitheater and citadel, steeped in as much history as those in Rome but are overlooked by tourists. To Books@ or Turtle Green, nice little hideouts from the noises and heat of Amman. Speaking of which, I need to comment on how noisy this culture is. There are men selling bread in the streets, screaming their products and prices to gain attention, there is a propane truck who plays a silly ice cream man song and beats on his tanks with a wrench, and EVERYBODY honks their horns. Always.

I am falling in love with this place.
Tomorrow we are going on a hiking trip through Wadi Mujib followed by a dip in the dead sea. Saturday will be Jerash, and next weekend who knows.

I have been in Amman, Jordan for three days now. No amount of photographs or adjectives could explain this place. I wish that my eyes were video cameras so I could catch everything I see. It was a 5 hour flight from Amsterdam, but I landed an entire world away. Paul has been such a comfort, and I could not imagine what it must have been like for him to land here with no one familiar. When I walk with him, this place is beautiful and full of culture and I am in constant awe. People don't give us a second glance. But alone is a different story. I want nothing more than to explore and adventure, but it will take a while for my confidence to build up to that level. I embark on journeys when he is at work, but I stay in familiar areas, and am never out for too long. I would be lying if I said I am not scared. A man followed me yesterday, and another spit at my feet. You read about and hear stories about what this culture is like, but one can ever understand it without being here. Of course I am in no danger as women are off limits, and to cross that boundary would cause a man to be shamed. But the stares will take getting used too. The weather is unbearable, and I am constantly covered. I have never sweat more in my life.

But I hate to misrepresent my feelings here. It is a bit overwhelming, yes, but this experience is worth every stare from every person on these streets. It is beautiful here. And despite waking me up at night, the 3:30am call to prayer remains one of my favorite things here. In a few more days I'm sure I will be feeling fine.

Today is my last day in Amsterdam. The people in this city are so wonderful and curious about who you are and what you are doing here. The hostel is full of lovely people as well, and finding friends to spend your time with was not hard to do. People have lovely stories, and its quite a trip to get an impression of America through the eyes of someone who has never been there. Although, the city is quite a lot to handle. It isn't a hustle and bustle place like New York per se, but it is so hectic and in your face it gets a little bit intense. So yesterday we rented bikes, and spent the day riding around and laying in Vondelpark, a huge park full of streams and beautiful Dutch people. We have gone dancing, which was a whole different cup of tea than it is back home. The people on the dance floor are friendly in an entirely different sort of way. If you catch my drift. We have eaten some great food, which in Europe people don't shovel into their mouths like they do back home. It can take over an hour to eat your whole meal, and thats just alright with me. And we have walked these streets up and down, but still have to struggle to find our way around. Goodbye Amsterdam, we probably wont meet again for quite a long time.

On to Jordan.

baby went to amsterdam

There are more bicycles in this city than all of the bikes I have seen in my life combined. The side of all the streets are lined with them, and not a single post or gate is spared a hitching. Hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of thousands.

Will's and my meeting in the airport was flawless, and after stumbling through the train system we made our way into the city center. This city has some of the most amazing architecture I have seen before, and watching boats putter down the canals in beautiful. Our hostel is something else. Right in the middle of where any tourist would want to be, it houses not a single electrical outlet, completely open bathrooms that are located in the front lobby, and the noisiest beds you can imagine. But we met some great French friends, with whom we spent last night.

Will and I explored the city until evening. With the new friends, we wandered until we found a cheap chinese restaurant where we inhaled our food in order to make it to a pub in time to watch the game. After watching the celebratory singing in the streets, we wandered through the surprisingly not seedy red light district. Quite a sight to be seen, really. At 10:30 when we left, it was still dusk outside. The Frenchies got tired at 11, so Will and I continued to explore on our own. We wandered to a neighborhood quite far from our hostel and found a perfect local bar. Not a word of english was being spoken inside, but those people know how to have a good time. At 3, we decided to wander back, as out hostel has lock-out from 4am-6. Never could I have guessed that would be a problem. But the night could not be complete until we played upon an old wooden jungle gym, and swung upon childrens swings.

Lets see what day 2 has to offer.

these colors don't run

The man that lives across the street from me just pushed and smacked his son because he wasn't singing the national anthem correctly. This same man lets his dog run free in the street, and kicks the kittens that lives in his garage.

So tell me, what does freedom mean to you?
Happy 4th of July

all about yellow

I always assumed that "manila" was a shade of yellow. One reserved only for office supplies. A forgotten pigment. But apparently it is actually a breed of hemp, often used to make paper. Additionally (or more importantly perhaps) it is the capital of the Philippines. Who knew. And who, besides me of course, cares?

Sometimes I pretend that I am stronger than I am. But come on, I'm no yellow bellied weenie. I mean good gracious.

"The color yellow has traditionally been associated with cowardice, treachery, inconstancy and jealousy. Brewsters says that in France, the doors of traitors' houses were daubed with yellow. The medieval yellow star (continued by the Nazis) branded Jews as having "betrayed Jesus." In medieval paintings, Judas Iscariot (ultimate symbol of treason) is portrayed wearing yellow garments. In Spain, victims of the Inquisition wore yellow, to imply they were guilty of heresy and treason. On the American frontier in the early 1800s, a "yellow-dog" was anything worthless."

I actually tend to like the color yellow, but since it is seemingly so unfortunate I might just start calling it manila.

Lastly, if piss contains ammonia, then why aren't toilets always clean? One of life's mysteries I suppose.

lady gaga

One of the oldest cathedrals in Tucson is a few blocks from my house. Its St. Augustine's, who is the patron saint of Tucson. And the cathedral is next door to a Pep Boys. Every Sunday the church fills with people going to mass; its their destination. But if they need an oil change while they're there, well thats just convenient.

Now you need to understand, Carlee is not a celebrity to me because she is a cancer patient, or a single mom, or a once-was-and-again-soon-to-be late night waitress at the Grill. She is the girl who I made creme brule, ate Dominoes pizza and watched Rosemary's baby with. She entrusted me with the wise wisdom "you cannot draw a butterfly onto a piece of paper and eat it into your stomach." Maybe its an in-joke, and you wont understand. But I do. Sometimes I feel like the Pep Boys to her St. Augustine, but thats ok. I don't like the lime light. I'm content being "her friend", and not being a friend. You know? Or maybe thats an in-joke too.

I have abandonment issues, but if you don't know that by now you never will. But no longer can I say that I'm self conscious, I took off that hat long ago. At least I'm making improvements.

house guests

Ants are truly amazing creatures. They farm, they count. Their engineering, hunting and communication are concepts we as humans can barely grasp. They have been known to build bridges out of their own bodies to get a colony across rivers, or when it is too wide for such architecture, they form massive balls (again out of their own bodies) and float through the water, rolling to make sure that no one ant spends too much time below the surface. They can conquer the most unlikely of prey, taking stock of the animals defenses, and finding a way around them. For example, a crab whose shell is seemingly impenetrable, has a weakness in it's eyes. And the ants will find that and move in to devour the crab, entering the body through the eye sockets. But most amazing to me is their communication. They have an innate connection to one another, that lends to amazing feats. They have the ability to move an entire colony of millions across a forest in a single night. That would be like moving the city of Tucson across the state in one evening. While we bog down our minds with logistics and plans, the ants simply understand one another, and just do it. There are no discussions, just sensations.

And while these creatures easily win my heart as my favorite animal, it does not necessarily mean I enjoy it when they move into my house and take over my kitchen. Please friends, go back outside and leave my box of crackers be.