Touchdown! 5:15am. So tired—travelled all night from Spain on Turkish Airlines into Jordan. Upon arrival I was greeted by the bright lighting in Jordanian airport and a long line at passport control, but after a exchanging some money and few yawns I was off in a taxi with another student from my program for my host’s home.
Sam, my companion in the taxi, has already been to Jordan doing an internship over the summer and had a better grasp on the Jordanian dialect. Between the two of us we managed to get Sam to his host neighborhood and I was able to direct the driver to my home. The best part about getting to my home was that my roommate provided perfect directions. Rebecca has already been in Jordan for a semester and she is well-accustomed to the culture by now. It is great having someone to show me the ropes and get me acquainted with my surroundings.
The taxi drove up to the green gates—exactly as Rebecca’s directions said—I got out gave him 15 dinar for my trip and 15 dinar from Sam, and rang the buzzer. I wasn’t sure upon arrival if this was a house or an apartment complex, but the housekeeper, Ruma, came out to greet me and show me to my room. Finally meeting Rebecca, I settled into our apartment that is the loft beneath the main house. I can’t believe my eyes the room has a sitting area, wide screen TV, one queen-size and one twin bed, a full kitchen, washer/dryer, and small full-bathroom. After a seven hour nap, Ruma, came knocking to see if I was hungry.
We made our way up through the garden to the main house. The house has a warm glow of colors and at the center of the house a beautiful courtyard with grass, a fountain, and beautiful shrubs all around. I meet my host Lamia in the kitchen talking with her sister, in Austria, over Skype. She quickly greets me with two kisses on each check and asks if I am hungry. She has prepared for me stuffed zucchini and eggplant with bread. I didn’t realize exactly how hungry I was, but the homemade food was absolutely delicious.
The host family I am staying with feels like an Arab version of Steel Magnolias. Lamia, the cook and the head of the house hold. Then Ruma, the young help and kind soul, Saya, Lamia’s daughter and looks like an Arab version of Beyounce, and two of Lamia’s friends all meet in the kitchen. They drink strong Turkish coffee, smoke cigarettes, talk about their weight, and exchange habibi [love] every other word. And there is Lamia’s husband, who I have not met yet, but it seems like these women are independent and make up a family.
I can’t believe I’m finally here. It is going to be a great four months.