(from first day I arrived)
I'm going to confess I've come here with the all-American sin of
geographical ignorance. I expected Amman to be a city-town in the midst of
implacable desert. I still haven't gotten
an as-good feel of this city as I will throughout the hopefully nine months
I'll be here, but about 11 hours in-country, from the plane that touched down
at Queen Alya airport to the temporary lodging near the University of Jordan on
al-Wifaq St., has given the following sets of impressions:
It wasn't until about twenty
minutes from touchdown that we crossed from the Mediterranean into land.
Israeli and Palestinian airspace—coming from Greece, a straighter shot would've
been through Syria; suffice it to say I'm glad to be safely out of the region's
skies.
A little way inland but still
short of Jordan the landscape turned from sun-worn coasts to selfish mounds of
earthy, ancient-looking hills. These gave way to smaller, more ridged and
uneven chains of mountain; then to the Dead Sea, which more-or-less marks the
western borders of Jordan.
Soon inside things leveled out and
took on a more standard (stereotypical, I guess) desert appearance. My fickle
memory remembers that the Egyptian desert was whiter and more relatively less
settled. Between small-medium settlements, agricultural plots, and various
industries I couldn't divine from the air, the land looks well-used. (Keep in
mind these are first impressions from several thousand feet up.)
I was a bit nervous to step back
into Arabic—mother tongue is a fitting term: however much I love
languages, speaking English I feel safe and comfortable.
Speaking of appropriate terms,
Cairo, al-qaahira: overpowering, vanquishing, conquering. Overwhelming.
I still have practically
everything to see, but Amman so far seems cozier and gentler. Just off the
highway, many families laid out under the trees, enjoying late-afternoon
picnics. Interspersed throughout the stony grey-brown hills on the
outskirts—which reminded another student of Syria—were trees and even groves
and orchards. In our neighborhood, likely more upper-class than most, we heard
a cricket chirp. And not even a cacophony, this same student pointed out, but
one cricket.
Some of the stone structures we
passed from the car looked ancient: Amman boasts a Roman amphitheater and even
mention in the Bible (as "Ammon").
From what I've read and observed,
the Arabic in Jordan seems pretty diverse phonologically. I've slipped pretty
comfortably into qàg, but sociolinguistically it might sound strange coming from whitey. We'll
see.
Blurry and simplistic if not
inaccurate, based memories of a largely car-window afternoon and evening in
parts of Amman. (I don't even know how downtown my neighborhood is.) Hopefully I
haven't gone offensively off-the-mark anywhere, but if I have I hope in these
next nine months to make amends.
Long live the King!
