Umm Qais

Yesterday, Jacqui took her class on a field trip up north to Umm Qais to see the ruins of Gadara (pretty much the only thing to be found in Umm Qais). None of them, despite many having lived their entire lives in Jordan, had ever been there before. A funny thing about Jordanians is that they live in a country with multitudes of ruins, parks, and gorgeous landscapes, but never go to see them (I guess that’s not actually so surprising–most New Yorkers never bother to visit their city’s landmarks). Jacqui wanted to take me along, but for reasons involving personal politics between her and her boss (who apparently decided that I was a “security concern”), I wasn’t allowed to come on the bus with them.

Books@Cafe

Friday morning, Jacqui, Walid and I went in Walid’s jeep to visit Hilda at her studio, which just so happens to be right next door to the Israeli embassy, which just so happens to mean that Hilda and her family live in a perpetual state of sustained anxiety.

(It also means that you can’t take any pictures of her street without having your camera confiscated and perhaps also having yourself subjected to some Krav Maga, which I’m to understand is quite effective, so although her house is quite nice inside and out, if I do happen to post pictures of it, please don’t expect any exteriors.)

Arrival

Queen Alia International Airport is a far cry from JFK; rather small, somewhat dingy, and not a little chaotic. When I arrived at the terminal, I was momentarily shocked to see people smoking around the baggage claim, until I remembered that I was no longer in the United States and that smoking in public places is not only legal here but de rigueur. (Incidentally, there was a “No Smoking” sign hanging from the ceiling, but nobody seemed to pay it much heed).