What is normal?

I have not been on any exciting trips or done anything monumental since I last posted, but this was the first week I was able to Skype my parents and not cry through the whole hour because of frustrations and homesickness. And that, is pretty exciting and monumental.

I’m finally feeling adjusted to the fact that this is my life and this is my home. When I leave the apartment in the morning and try to catch a taxi, it feels normal. When I do get a taxi, I don’t struggle to say, “University of Jordan, please” (in Arabic of course). When I go to Falafel Man for lunch, I know how to order my falafel sandwich, with the spicy sauce. When I want to go to a coffee shop and do homework, I know how to get to four different ones. When I’m thirsty and want to chug my bottle of water, I know to think about when the next time I’ll be around a bathroom with toilet paper is. When I want to use the internet, I know I have to wait until I go home or to a coffee shop. Looking back, I’m not sure what I expected Jordan to be like, but I think I overlooked how much these little things would affect me. It’s taken me much longer to adjust than I expected and the thought, “Why aren’t you comfortable yet?!,” has only added to the frustration.

I’ve found myself comparing this experience to my experience in Zambezi, Zambia last summer. Despite the fact that the population of Amman is close to three million and the population of Zambezi was a couple thousand, at most, I’ve found myself comparing the cities often. When I left for Zambia, I knew that internet access would be limited, toilets would be sparse and not very nice, the showers would be cold and I would not be able to just drive to the store if I needed to pick something up. When I left for Amman, I was aware of the fact that it would not necessarily be as easy as being in Spokane, but I think the fact that I would be in a huge city somehow made it hard for me to believe that these amenities wouldn’t exist. This city is huge, they have to be somewhere right? And the truth is, they are, you just have to look a lot harder for them. Simply stated, when I went to Zambia, I was ready to go without internet, bathrooms and hot water but I was not ready when I came to Jordan.

Another aspect that affected my Zambia experience that I did not have when I arrived in Jordan was a support system. The group that I travelled to Africa with was and still are some of my best friends. I arrived in Amman completely alone. Alone, alone, alone. I have gone on trips or to camps alone before; I arrived at Gonzaga without knowing a soul. But somehow this was different. The culture shock my past experiences lacked was out in full force here and I did not have people to turn to. The relationships I needed obviously aren’t formed overnight and now, a month into my time in Jordan, I finally feel as if I’ve created some of those meaningful relationships. This adds a lot to feeling established here.

I can’t say what the next few months will hold and how I will feel when I leave this place, but I can say with confidence that for now, I’m enjoying where I’m at.

I was able to visit the King Hussein mosque in Amman. A small group of about 15 went and we needed to get royal permission to do so. The place is beautiful and they don't want it to become a tourist attraction which is why we needed special permission. 

The imam sang a call to prayer just for us. It was beautiful.

All the girls in the special room where women pray.
We weren't allowed on the premises without covering our heads. 

I made cookies with my host mom one day. It was definitely not like cooking at home but they were possibly some of the best chocolate chip cookies I've ever had, probably because I haven't had anything like it in so long. 

Finally, some of the crew who helped me celebrate my birthday. I thought I was just going out to dinner with 4 or 5 people but they surprised me and had almost 20 people come out. It was really nice and made me miss my family and friends a little bit less.