The small things

We took our first walk around our building and the surrounding area without much concern. Wandering around the streets the first thing you notice is the cats. Dozens. Skinny and frightened and rummaging through the dirt and trash, they streak past you and dart over walls and down hills like mangy little rabbits, and no matter how sweetly you call they will not come within five feet of you. The second thing you notice is the honking, which, though nearly constant in the streets of Amman, picks up considerably the moment you become visible to drivers. And the staring. From the rooftops of surrounding buildings and hidden in high windows whistles and muttered Arabic phrases come from every direction. For the first time in my life I felt leered at. Mostly it's because of my hair. That and that I am clearly American. "Welcome to Jordan!" is shouted by men as they drive past you, and they lean out the sides of their cars to watch your reaction as they speed away. Some cars double back to follow you or pass you over and over. Taxis stop in front of you and beg to help you. Your best bet is to look forward determinedly and uninterested.
The morning prayers begin with a wake up call at dawn--about 4 in the morning. The actual call to prayer comes a little later, and is low and sweet and haunting in its lilting melodies. The numerous alley cats yowl along with the muezzin (the person who makes the call to prayer from the minarets). The birds wake up and begin to chirp. The cocks crow. The sun begins to rise around 5 am and streams through the windows and curtains. Then the propane man begins his rounds, weaving through the hills and streets of our neighborhood in a worn green truck, a tinny melody like an old ice cream truck song winding its way up and into the high rooms of the building.
Last night the girls went to eat at a cafe a block away from our building. We sat on the porch shivering and musing over the differences in our expectations and reality: specifically that we'd all packed for hot weather, but were presently chilled! This morning we visited a coffee shop for tea, coffee (both of which are served very strong), and pastries; then we scouted out banks for transfers; and finally stumbled by chance onto a delightful Turkish restaurant that served excellent labeneh with zaitoon (olives), sbinash (spinach), or zaatar (thyme & spices). For a plate full of labeneh bil zaitoon and a mushrabaat faraawila (strawberry drink) it was onlny 1.8JD (2.5$)! This is a reasonable price range for food--the Greek salattaa I'd had the night before was too much for a half-starved post-flight me to eat and was only 3JD. In the streets there are carts with fruit and vegetables or steaming meat sandwiches and shawaarma. At our university orientation they served us a "light snack" or hummus, pita, pastries, sesame seed-covered pigs-in-a-blanket, an olive/carrot salad, an eggplant dish, fatoosh, Arabic coffee (so strong it is only taken in shots), maay (water), and bebsi (pepsi).
If it weren't nearly midnight here I'd regale more of our adventures traipsing across the university, meeting our teachers and conversation partners, and trying to figure out cell phones here in Amman. But it is nearly midnight and I have class in the morning...
...and the propane man drove by again!