Arrival

I just had to check my calendar to see what day of the week it was. The flight was 12+ hours and the time difference is eight hours. I slept for ten hours and now I am truly disoriented. Presumably I'm going to have to get good at this whole world travel thing at some point but apparently now is not the time. The group we're traveling with met us as soon as we made it through customs and has taken care of every last detail for us. We have a security detail, our restaurants are chosen, basically we are totally infantilized. I think that is adding to my disorientation. I tried to sneak away from the group and grab an American latte (Illy!) at a cafe we passed today and was mortified to look up and see fourteen people waiting for me, including one security guy.

On the flight I sat next to an older Jordanian woman, clearly a matriarch, who was working over a rosary in her jewel-encrusted hands. After some conversation I asked her what it was like being a Christian in Jordan. She said that it had been better under King Hussein, and that his son's Jordan was a less tolerant country. Her husband had a house up in the mountains overlooking Amman with a swimming pool and gardens that he had inherited from his parents. I was immediately invited to visit. She told me about her children, who are scattered around the world, and introduced me to her son and daughter-in-law. The son had married an American who was busy reading Twilight novels the whole flight. When we were about to get off the plane, the American wife put on a Reds hat, and I told her I too was from Cincinnati. Everyone starting exclaiming and it turned out they were all living in Cincinnati and owned a high-profile fast food chili business. We were all very excited about this coincidence and now we have vowed to visit with one another. I love small worlds.

One reason I tell this story, besides the fact that it was funny, is that when I told the wealthy Jordanian woman that I was going to be visiting Palestinian refugee camps, she had what I would call an unexpected reaction. I am new to the politics of this region. I know enough to know that there are layers upon layers upon layers, but when the woman said that the Palestinians have money and that they only pretend to be poor so that I will feel sorry for them, I was surprised. "They are sneaky," she said with a sneer. It was the sort of casual racism that we see in our country more often than I would like. Still, I was blindsided.

Today, the group program starts officially. I will see if my third meal in Jordan involves a three for three on hummus and baba ghanouj. Inshallah.