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.