Friday, September 23, 2016

Digs Coherence




Our new digs are in a fairly upscale part of town.  Lumped in with hundreds of other 4 story sand colored buildings.  It turns out that the King decreed that housing be of three varieties.  Faced on all sides with limestone, faced on one side with limestone and painted beige or painted all beige.  

It’s capacious, if rather oddly laid out. There’s definitely a public space and a private space inside

It is not as large as our last place. We’re upstairs and we don’t have a yard. The dog, who’s not really lived in a multi level, is getting used to the steps.

As yet, it doesn’t seem like we’ll have need for the staff that we had before.  Maybe a parttime housekeeper, but no need for a driver or a gardner.  

There is a boab.  This is a guy who lives in the basement who keeps up the place.  Removes trash and washes your car.  He watches fuel levels and tells you when to order more.  It’s a different concept, but apparently you can ask him to run errands for you. So, far we’ve established that we will give him money, but beyond that, it is vague. He’s very friendly, but there is an adversarial quality to the relationship.  A man who lives in your basement with access to all vital fluids tacitly demanding cash every month. But, it’s less than we paid before and part of the culture.

As in our last life, we are near several mosques.  It’s nice to hear the call to prayer again. Except for the 5 am one.  That still takes some getting used to.  

The singers here are better. Maybe the arabic is less accented than those in Indonesia.  Maybe it’s better genetics.  Maybe the dusk adds a certain husky quality. Maybe they bought a better speaker system.  Whatever the reason, it’s more rich and sonorous.  At 5AM, you can get back to sleep pretty easily.

I’ve been reading lately about coherent breathing and meditation and how the ideal breathing rate when one is totally relaxed is 5 to 6 times per minute. I wonder, on some level, if this call to prayer is in some way supposed to mirror this. A reminder to pause and breathe out.


Click Above.  Take a moment and listen and imagine just stopping for 90 seconds 4 or 5 times a day

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

Playing Tourist


We’ve arrived in Amman at the exact worst time. Three days before a 5-day religious holiday. For many in the country it’s a 10-day holiday.  Plus, there’s an election coming up, so that means another national holiday in a couple weeks.


Apparently, even during the days of operation nothing can get done. It’s a personal bureaucratic clot.  We missed the day to get a Work I.D. Without a work I.D. we can’t cash checks or fill out forms.  The government won’t accept passports to work on visa issues. Without a visa, we can’t leave the country. We also can’t get a residency card.  Without a residency card, we can’t contact customs about our belongings.  We also can’t take ownership of our car which needs a license and insurance.


The process that should take 3 weeks, could take 6.


So we walk or taxi or Uber around.  It does let us play tourist a bit.


Yesterday, we went to the old city to the Citadel.


We shelled out for the guided tour and found out about one of the oldest continuously inhabited places with evidence dating back to the neolithic period some 7500 years ago.  This one hill has been swapped around from the Ammons to the Greeks to the Romans to the Arabs. Houses built on top of caves.  Churches built on top of houses. Mosques built next to churches.


At bottom of the hill is a Roman Amphitheatre that looks like it could still be used today if safety and fire codes didn’t exist.

Here’s a slideshow of the afternoon along with some catchy music courtesy of the folks at google.








Monday, September 12, 2016

Beige First Impressions


If it is not yet apparent, Amman, Jordan is the site of our next post. We arrived 5 days ago.


One word, first impression?  Beige. Beige earth and beige building stretch away into the hills.  On the road in from the airport, the light beige looked like snow under the moon.


Second word? Dust. It's everywhere and everything that is not beige, turns beige. Plants, cars, people. It's such a disparity from the moisture filled air we've been in previously.


It's desert air and so, from 11 until 5 pm it is 90 degrees. It's a dry heat, but it's heat. Space in the shadows is cooler commodity. The remainder of the day, at least this time of year, is wonderful? Morning and evening walks are High 60s or low 70.  Refreshing. That's the time to be outside.


Overall, it seems safe. Peaceful feeling, really. If you didn't read the news you'd have little idea of the skirmishes and wars within a few hundred miles to the north, south, east, and west; in Syria, Yemen, Israel or Iraq.  There is a fairly strong security and police presence around.


We've gone from a personal famine in bread and cheese, to an absolute Mecca for both. The average corner store has a cheese selection that could rival anything back home.

And we've found a bakery where pita bread falls pocket by pocket out of the sky. Not kidding. The bed is baked in the basement, conveyed and cooled on a belt to the second floor and then plops back down to the ground floor through a chute where pita elves bag it up. 2 dozen pieces for about 40 cents. A gluten lovers paradise. I promise you, dear reader, a video of this process soon.


Spices abound as do olives, which grow everywhere. Dates and figs as well.


In what seems to be our pattern when we move, we've been to 4 different grocery stores in five days. Just seeing what's out there as we expand our bubble. Seems that we can get most things we may need within walking distance.

More news to come soon.  It's safe. We’re safe, sheltered and will be well-fed.  I’ll put a call out now for visitors. Flights from the U.S. can be found starting around $675. We’d love to show you around.

You can read more here at: Adventures in Wonderland







Thursday, September 1, 2016

Reprogramming


I’ve been home on leave.  We're required to take time in the US in between assignments. I guess to remind us how great America is and to prevent us from thinking about moving away.

My friends chide me that we have to come back to get the battery in our microchip replaced.  Or to be reprogrammed.

Nonetheless, here we've been here. And this is what I've seen.

Coloring. This was hitting Indonesia a bit as we left, but is here at an amazing level. The number of mandalas and puppy dogs and sci-coloring books is remarkable. Along with the cords of coloring pencils. Even the local throw away mag has a coloring page. Perhaps, you'd like to print off and color the mandala at the top of this page? How long until this trend is complete? I'll say by Christmas.

A drive through southern Ohio revealed an astonishing number of confederate flags flying proudly in yards throughout the area. It seems that maybe in the effort to stamp out the festering sore that this banner represents, some of the pus has splattered north of the Mason-Dixon Line and  probably onto the tracks of the underground railway that ran through those parts. In fairness, I did see some rainbow flags. One pizza joint had both flags pinned up, bracketing the door, in a true message of… something?

I went to Lululemon to get some pants hemmed. Their ABC pants are amazing. They truly are travelling pants.You can travel  in them for days. If you need to sit on a plane for 40 hours, these are what you want to sit in.

But, they’re sized funny.  If you normally wear a size 32, you’ll wear a 34 in their pants. While waiting, I decided to try on a pair that was labelled “New Sizing”.  I put on a size 34 and they fell off me.   The lovely clerk said, “Oh yeah, that’s the new sizing.  They’re sized accurately now. 32 inches is 32 inches.  We really listened to our customers!”  I wonder what happened that led them to listen to centuries of international measurement standards.

Perhaps most distressing was a scene I witnessed in the fitting area.  A middle aged man with a slight paunch was trying on t-shirts and examining them far too closely.  I mean, it’s  t-shirt for Pete's sake A $68 t-shirt, but a t-shirt nonetheless.

“Hmmm”, he says.  “It’s a little long.  Can you hem them?”  Raising the shirt 2 inches, barely concealing his hirsute belly.

“Oh, yes! Of course!” says the shop lady, just as pleasant as can be, like they get this request all the time.

“Ok. I’ll take 4.  Just make sure they’re all hemmed to the same length” If you're counting, that's $280.00 on four t-shirts.

And there you have it.  In my absence, America seems to have become a coloring-obsessed, confederate flag-waving, t-shirt-hemming, middle-aged paunch bearing Britney Spears wannabes. Seems I’m not the only one who needs re-programmed.

Oh, America! You are a beacon unto the world! Surely your light can shine brighter than this.