Two weeks in Heaven, Day 9, Monday

Not too many things to do today. I actually and deliberately kept today free of any commitments. I wanted to roam on my own. I asked my brother to drop me in the morning on his way to work somewhere on gardens street. He told me to wait when he is off to take me to places. I don't want to go to places. I just wanted to be alone. Not that I had enough with my family, but I wanted to satisfy my desires to be alone. After lots of debate, and after my father insisted to drive me anywhere I wished, I convinced them to leave me alone. I am not a kid for crying out loud. Their worries are that I will get lost somehwre. I mean come on people, I travel a lot to strange places and I can take care of myself. Nevertheless, I felt special for a change.

He dropped me by a bridge next to a big supermarket (safeway or that sort). Actually, it was probably 1/2 km away from jabri ..I think. At any rate, I started walking on this street. Under the bridge, there was a small grocery store. I stopped to pick up a pack of cigarette. If only my wife finds out that I smoke, she would do kill me. I stopped smoking, officially, about 7 months ago. Yet, when I travel, I buy a pack to ease my stress. I know I am not making sense, or giving a justification, but I felt that cigarettes ease up my stress when I'm alone. When I go back home, I stop smoking and it doesn't bother me at all.

I sat on the side of this small store, and took one cigarette out, and started huffing and puffing. I then got up and started walking. This was about 8 am. Lots of cars in the street. I didn't know what to do or where to go. I then passed by alkal7ah restaurant. I wasn't hungry at all. But it brought back some memories. I continued walking not caring about food. Strange...I know. And then it hit me. I stopped a taxi (which was very difficult). I asked him to take me to the bus station where I can take a buss to zarqa. He started asking me if I was not from here; as if he didn't figure it out yet from my question. I said yes, but I do come here every year just to hint to him that he won't be able to trick me with a higher charge.

On the way, and after I told him I was from the states, he started chatting. Same questions that I hear almost every day. Swine flu, politics, and how can anyone immigrate to America. I think there is a big misconception about things in America. I mean why would anyone suggest that the US government deliberately renamed "pig’s flu" to H1N1 or some kind of number just to cover-up the negative effect of eating pork? Seriously, this is the third time I heard that there is a name cove up. His rational was that the government didn't attempt to cover up mad cow disease with some kind of number system, so why this "pigs flu"? Oh this discussion is giving me a big headache. Regardless, he was a nice man.

Got to the station about 20 minutes later. Not too far from the city center. I went then to a buss that goes to zarqa. I do have an uncle that my father doesn't speak to. He is actually my father's immediate cousin. They argued about some stupid family stuff 2 years ago and are still not talking to each others. I do like this uncle of mine. I hope my father wouldn't get angry for me going to visit him. I mean he offered to take me to see him. I just wanted to see him alone, without my father.

I got to zarqa, which changed a lot, and took a taxi to Alsa3adah Street. My uncle has a small shop there as his retirement shop. I was dropped at Alsa3adah Street and started walking. There used to be a movie theater there called Alhamra Theater. It used to show 3 movies for one ticket back 25 years ago when we used to visit home from the UAE. I had a cousin where we used to sneak outside the house and go watch some movies. I couldn't find the theater. I can't remember on what street it was. Anyway, I got to the shop. I walked inside. I could see my uncle sitting behind the counter while a worker was cutting shawarma for some customer. It smelled good, but I wasn't hungry. I said hello, but he didn't recognize me. I love his kashrah. I hope that no tourist ever get in his restaurant because he will get a very bad impression about the good old Jordanian smile. Who am I kidding, everyone has the same kashrah. He asked me what I wanted to eat or drink, and I said "come on uncle, you can't have that bad of a memory. He then recognized that I was a member of the family...but still didn't know who. I told him who I was and he couldn't believe it.

He then started complaining why my father wouldn't let him know that I was in the country, especially that my vacation is so short. I told him to forget about it and let’s chat. His immediate comments were "are you ok in here? No problems with the government? Do u need any assistance?" I laughed and told him to relax; I had no troubles getting in the country. And yes I renewed the passport and I am ok. Still the shawarma smell was bugging me as my stomach was grinding. I told him I could use a sandwich, but he said "are you crazy, I won't feed you here. Let’s go home".

So we went to street number 16 in "new zarqa". His house is there. We got there and greeted his wife. His little daughter is now a teenager. And she is beautiful, yet he is one of the ugliest uncles I have, and most are ugly. His wife is cute. She started preparing lunch. He eats heavy. He is heavy anyway. There was mo3lag and some hummus and other stuff. He sure makes a hell of a hummus. After this heavy lunch, we sat and started talking about the family. His approach was that he has had it with this family of ours and that he is happy away from everyone. "Those who want me, they can find me" was his answer to most of my questions. I didn't wanna press too much on this as I was here in zarqa to see him. My phone started ringing and it was my brother asking me where I was and if I needed any ride. I told him I am fine and don't worry about it. Didn't realize that it was after 3 pm now. Time flies by too fast. I excused myself to go home, and he insisted to drive me to tabarboor. I asked him that I had more things to do before I could go home. Again he insisted to take me to those places. I refused and told him that I may not see him again this trip but I will sure come and see him when I come back to Jordan.

So he drove me to Amman and dropped me in Mecca street...or maybe almadina street by three grocery stores people refer to them as "soog el7awamel" I was told once that if I wanted to find toot or any rare fruit not in it's season, I will find them in one of those three stores. I wish I could remember the street name. Anyway, I walked in the first place, and this young Egyptian man came asking what I was looking for. I hope that I don't look pregnant to this guy. Before I could answer him, I saw toot. Oh God, I can't believe it. I love this fruit. I bought me two small boxes, and a small box of apricots on the spot. I waited for a taxi to take me home. I got home at about 6 pm that afternoon holding my bounty. I rushed into the kitchen and washed the fruit and started digging while everyone was laughing. They asked where did I find this, and I said "soog el7awamel". They didn't know that I know about that mysterious market. My uncle told me about it in zarqa.

I told my father that I visited my uncle, and he quickly changed his face. I quickly apologized for him but told him that even though I recognize the differences, but that’s my uncle, and that God knows if I ever see him again. He overcame that and actually was happy to hear that I cared about the family. I have to care.....I don't get to see them often, unlike my parents. Not too long after that, the same uncle of mine called my father telling him that he was gonna pick up another uncle of mine (the one near jabal alqosoor) and come and spend the evening here. Of course my father couldn't say no.

Both showed up about an hour later with playing cards. Now, I let my uncle beat me twice so far, and that’s it. So I teamed up with my father against the two. My father takes cards way too serious, so I made sure that I do not make any error, and I was clean that night. On the one hand, I got my revenge against that uncle of mine, and on the other hand, my father felt good beating his cousin...at least in playing cards. I hope that this be a start of the relationships to go back to some kind of normality between the two. I really wish.

It was now 11 pm, and my mom was asking me if I was hungry. I started jumping and saying "mom..please..stop talking about food...please". Actually, a box of toot can do wonders to your stomach. I felt that I was getting sick from it. I think it makes your stomach not holding food for too long as I was rushing back and forth to the bathroom.

Oh my...it is passt midnight now and I am exhausted. I walked a lot today. I had lots of fun. I think I did.

two weeks in Heaven, Day 14

Day 13, Friday
I woke up with a headache this morning. Maybe because it’s getting very close to fly back to the states. I don’t what is going on, but anyway, I just feel a little tired this morning. As much as I heard about the swine flu, I feel that I am infected. Oh well. I walked outside my room, trying to open my eyes, and saw my mom in the kitchen. “Morning mom”, I said. She greeted me with a freshly brewed coffee from the coffee maker that I sent to them a year ago from the states. As if she was preparing me for the inevitable return to my “normal”, but not so normal, life. I sat across from her in the kitchen as she was preparing homemade mo3ajjanat. What is it with the obsession with food in this family? But my sister assured me days before that the past few days, and since I arrived to amman, life in the house has transformed. What I’m seeing is only happening because of me, and that people, family, brothers, uncles, etc only gather in the house because of me. So I take it that the moment I leave, mom and dad will back to the isolation life that they live? She said “and more”.

That’s sad. I really enjoyed the family gathering. The most important reason that I am truly thinking to go back is because of this family life that I lack. What these people know that they have a treasure. Come and live in my life. You are bored one day, you won’t be able to go visit your sister or brother. You are feeling lonely, you can’t call your mom to come and spend few days with you. You are feeling sick, no sisters around to come and help sooth your life. How can they not see such treasure? Well, I once heard my father say that a kid eating chocolates every day, and you offer him chocolates or a piece of bread, chances are he will chose the bread. I feel that they have a treasure, but you can not value a treasure unless you are deprived of it.

Ma3aleena, today is going to be a family day and I intend to enjoy every moment of it, whatever happens. I just hope that I don’t eat food a lot today. For a change…maybe…I just hope.
I have four brothers. My eldest brother lives in the UAE. I am second. My younger two brothers live upstairs in their apartments that Dad built. One of those two brothers doesn’t pray. I tried, but he is just stubborn. I don’t know why. His wife prays and she is very conservative. Allah yehdeeh. So, he didn’t go to Friday prayer. Instead, he went to pick up the food from “qasr almandi”. You see, the day before we sent a lamb to qasr almandi to make 3 big mandi dishes. I wanted to make sure that the meat was baladi, so we did the slaughter a day before. Anyways, he wanted to go and pick up the food. He was also supposed to go and pick up my older brother from his house. The one who lives in the UAE but has a house in amman. My father, my other brother, and I went to the mosque, We drove there.

Here is another treasure that we don’t have, yet, the locals may not value as it should be valued. It’s the mosque. You get to sit down in a mosque, on a Friday, where no shop is open (almost) and every man, child is in the mosque. You get to hear a Friday lecture in Arabic. You don’t get to worry about looking at your watch to get back to work. You get to feel the comfort of the mosque. What I would do for such life every Friday. Nevertheless, you get to see weird things again in the mosque. Well, not all weird. There were lots of soldiers in this mosque. Why not as there were a couple of camps left in tabarboor. Big change over the past 20 years or so. There was also this old man wearing a mouth cover, like the one we say the Chinese wearing during bird flu epidemic few years ago. Are you kidding me 7ajji? Please tell me that you are not worried from swine flu in tabarboor. Maybe he was being cautions that’s all. I don’t know but I didn’t like seeing such thing in Jordan. Oh well.

We finished the prayer and headed back to the car, and ultimately to the house. My other brother was still in the house. I yelled at him for not going to prayer. So he left to pick up my other brother, and then we were supposed to bring the food at about 3 pm. And that’s what happened. At about 3 pm, I left with him, and my older brother to get the food and the needed stuff. We stopped at habiba and got two big knafeh dishes, one kheshneh and one na3meh. Came back home to find the rest of the family around. We let the women do their thing as men sat outside in the back yard chatting. My father was guarding his trees from the attack of the children. Every time they come here, they destroy. The poor man needed help, so I called on the children, which was many, and took them aside. I challenged them to sit quiet for 30 minutes and I’ll go and get them candy from the store next door. That worked wonders.

There we are. The four brothers, Mom and dad, all alone in the back yard, as my two brothers in law, the one who just came from Canada a day earlier, and the one who owns his little factory stepped aside to chat. I leaned at my two younger brothers and told them to continue this habit. Maybe we need to establish an every Friday family gathering. I told them I am welling to sponsor that financially, if it is the problem. But that wasn’t the problem. The problem is that they couldn’t see through my eyes the value of such gathering. I could see big smiles at my parent’s faces. Tell me that this is not worth it? Both were complaining about life and work. Nevertheless, they promised to at least do a monthly thing. You know what? I’ll take it one step at a time.

Food is ready. Men in guest room, women in the living room, and children in the kitchen being supervised by a woman on a 10 minute shift. This was the attack plan to minimize the destruction and damage to the house. It worked. The food was delicious. My brother in law bragged that he was the one who picked the meat. We sat down and ate, and had lots of fun. Everyone was joking and enjoying the moment. I felt that my mom was full of joy as she was joking with the two brother in laws who were trying to pick on her by saying things about her daughters. By 5 pm, the knafeh was being served. I wish I took so many pictures that day because it was a day to remember. A family gathering where everyone was happy. One of the children came and reminded me about the store next door. So I took about 16 little children, went to the store next door, made them form a line outside, and one by one, they walked in picked one thing and walked outside. The owner was laughing, and so did I. I told him about the reason and he said “you should do this more often” laughing. So the troops went back home, in one line, to the house, and I had to guard them making sure that they threw the wrappers in the garbage and not in the front yard.

It was singing time. The brother in law who just arrived from Canada started singing. Everyone was singing along some traditional songs. Mixed ones. I was leaning back on one of the chairs, with a fake smile to try and hide my sadness and sorrow for not having such a wonderful moments in my life. I should enjoy this moment while it lasts, for such family moments are very rare in my life. To be honest, I was tearing up a part inside and felt rivers of tears flowing, but only inside. I needed to step outside for some fresh air..or maybe some poisonous tobacco. As I light my cigarette, I remembered how I used to argue with my wife that a man shedding a tear to other than God is a sign of weakness, for it’s ok to be weak in front of God only. I wished that could shed one tear..a real outside flowing tear, to express my emotions that night, and tried to force myself to do that, yet, myself was trained to resist and fight such emotions. I just couldn’t…but I wanted to. I started another cigarette as my Canadian brother ion law came to check on me. This was the same one that received me in the airport when I decided to go back and see my family back in the nineties after being away for many years. He is slick and I hate it when he tries to analyze me. I bet he knows how I am feeling right now. I just wish he shuts up and not talk. He said “by the way, the jameed will be here tomorrow morning, straight from madaba”. I laughed, and so did he. He was leaving to Lebanon tomorrow and he is the one that usually arrange for the best jameed on earth to get to my hand.

The night was getting closer to end..or so I thought. Everyone left home. I received a call from a friend of mine whom I didn’t see in 6 years since he left the states back to Jordan. He had just arrived from the airport and his mom told him that I asked about him upon my arrival. He came and picked me up. “Where to” he asked? I said “maaaan, lets go to coffee shop and sit down..I wanna talk to u about good old times”. He refused and we drove to reem albawadi. I told him that I had just finished a mandi and knafeh fest. He refused and insisted on me eating. This obsession in food is very contagious in Jordan. We had little mashawi as we talked about home, country, and the land. He told me to come back home and that he will do everything he can to assure a better life for me. I know he is capable of such thing. I really want to come home.

After 3 hours, he drove me back home and wanted to say hello to my father. He loves my father, as my father was teaching his back in the Jordanian military school. We sat down and chatted. When I asked about how his wife is doing, he said that she has flue and is sick at home. I yelled at the man for leaving his wife and hanging out with me. I kicked him outside and was angry at him. I said goodbye to this man not knowing when I will see him again. He promised to come and visit me in the states when he comes here again.

At about 12 midnight, the house is now suddenly quiet. No one but me, my sister, and my parents. I headed to my room and got ready for sleep. I started to visualize the activities of the day again and again to make sure that my brain memorizes it perfectly. I don’t want to forget any moment from today. The one thing that was missing from today was that my wife called today and I wasn’t around. She calls every day to give me the daily report, and gets mine as well. I’ll call first thing tomorrow. Tomorrow I am invited at my older brother’s home, and so my brothers and sisters and their spouses, exactly like today. Not bad bo3bo3…two memorable days back to back. Good night ya’al/

two weeks in Heaven, Day 13

I'm gonna skip couple of days for now.



I got the call earlier from ala that we’ll have our meeting tonight. Sometime around 8 pm. However, I was supposed to visit my uncle in the morning..closer to lunch time. I am also supposed to go with my brother in law to slaughter a lamb for a dinner fest on Friday in my parents home. I wanted to invite my sisters, brothers, and their families for a dinner. At any rate, today is supposed to be a very busy day.
It started with me and my father visiting my uncle. We got there about 10 am. Again, there seem to be some obsession with food in this family of mine. The visit was just to say hello and spend couple of hours with the guy. Instead, he planned barbeque. At 10 am…barbeque? I couldn’t say no. I really wanted to say no. I honestly did. Regardless, we spent good time in his house. They have a maid from indonisia…or that sort. She wears the veil. Such a lovely face. Another example of the many houses in Jordan that do not need maids, yet, they have. I mean my uncle lives with his wife..and I don’t see the need for a maid. Oh well, this is the norm these days there.
We got back to the house at about 1 pm. I rushed with my sister to go to marj el7amam to catch my brother in law before he leaves the house. He was still sleeping at that time. So we get there as soon as we could. He was ready to leave. The plan was that I go with him to slaughter the lamb, since he knows good places for that, and then come back to his house, and then my sister and I go home before 8 pm. Sounds like a good plan….simple. That’s what I thought initially. We went to his small factory somewhere in amman. I was impressed by his small place, and the fact that he is building himself. We sat in the office. I told him that we need to leave. He agreed. Well, not so fast. Two visitors arrive to the factory. They started talking about business plans. After about an hour, they left. My brother in law and I head out to this place to slaughter. Got my eye on a small lamb, barely 26 kg whole. The dude did his job, and within 5 minutes, we were heading out as the butcher told us to come back in 2 hours after the meat cools down. My brother in law wanted to take me to city center. He spoke highly of a restaurant down there, called shahrazad. I was full, but he wanted me to try something different. We drove down to city center. This was about 5 pm now. We got to the restaurant

There, we ordered some 3arayes. I just wanted to eat 3arayes there as I heard so good things about that place. He ordered an additional 2 kg mixed grilled meat, 1 for him and 1 for me. It tasted so good. I couldn’t finish. He kept on pressing. I was begging for mercy. He ended up winning. I ate the whole damn kg mashawi. We then walked in the center. We took some steps that made me feel like an old man. We arrived to the parking garage, picked up his car, and drove out. On one of the traffic lights, a man crossing the street stopped in front of our car. He was talking to another man that didn’t cross yet. The light turns green. We sound the horn. He doesn’t even look at us. My brother in law drives the car slowly to hit the guy. The dude gets mad and slams his hands against the hood of our car. My brother in law rushes out with a small ganwa on the side. He aims to hit the guy..and the guys backs away apologizing. This is all new to me. This is strange. No one has any patience in this country?

We drove back to the butcher house, and got our lamb. Drove back to marj el7amam. My sister was waiting in the car outside. We rushed home. I wanted to use the bathroom at my sisters house, but we just didn’t have time. I have to be home at 8 pm. We drive fast back to the house. We got there at about 8 pm. I rushed quickly to the bathroom. I could swear that I lost 2 kg in that one trip to the bathroom. So I call ala, and he said that he will be there in couple of minutes.

Standing in front of our home, hiding behind a wall, smoking a cigarette fearing that my father see me. Enigma and ala show up. I got in their car, and all three of us drove away. I didn’t know where we were going. I was hoping to have a very late dinner. I can barely breath. 5 minutes into the drive, I decided to put on the seat belt. These guys drive crazy in this country. Nothing worse than to ride in a car where Enigma drives, and ala gives direction as where to go. We now headed to the airport. We meet up with Sa2ed on the way. We got to this nice park, the park of the king of Bahrain…such a long name.

There, Hector comes to the gate to lead us to the camp area. So we get there. Nice park. So I get to have mashawi for the third time today. I couldn’t tell the guys about my experience today. So I kept quiet. Some of us sat down, some started lighting heeisheh, and some started to grill the meat. Hector had a friend with him. The smell of barbeque is so overwhelming. We talked about everything. A third friend of hector also showed up few minutes later. It was about 10 pm now and the food is flooding the big dish that is in front of us. I sat next to ala, which is not a good idea as the food was disappearing fast there. We then started telling jokes. None of the jokes that were told that night can be told in here. The night was crisp. There was a group sitting not too far from us. They were a little loud…singing and dancing. Luckily, we were not sitting too far from the bathrooms. I needed to be close. The problem, there was a dog between me and the bathroom. I had to carry a long stick, just in case the dog develops a good taste for human meat.Toward the end of the night, most of us were cold and obsessed with the red burning charcoal. We gathered around the two grills, and stayed warm. It was cold that night.

At about 1 am, we decided to call the night off. We headed out, and off we go. I was home about 1:30 am thanks to Enigma’s driving. Tomorrow is also going to be a busy day as we are having lots of people coming over. My brother just arrived from the UAE to see me. Last time I saw him was 13 years ago. My other brother in law also arrived a day earlier from Canada. So it will be a busy day.

Day 7, Saturday

Today was the day that I head to the city center in amman. In the morning, we, my sister and I, headed out to a restaurant I think called alia. I could be wrong. It was on the university street. The plan was to get mo3ajjanat, so we did. Headed home to find that my brother already got falafel and hommus from a tabarboorian restaurant. Can’t remember the name as well. We gathered around the kitchen table for breakfast.

My father was as usual taking care of his trees. He brought me some eski denia, which we don’t have in the states. I even forgot what kind of fruit is that, or if there were any seeds inside. So I took a big bite and felt a bunch of big black seeds. It tasted so sour of course. But it tasted good since it was he himself who picked them up.

Closer towards lunch, my brother , sister, and I got into the car and drove to the city center. It was raining a little..off and on of course. We parked the car on the main street there, few hundred meters before a mosque. We walked down the street. This is the Jordan I left many years ago. The sound of corn horns, the smell of diesel, the traffic, the angry policeman, the tourists…all that and more.

As we were walking, I asked where is hashem restaurant. I wanted to eat in the same restaurant that the king and his family ate at. There it was. A small restaurant with a bout 4 tables or so. So I asked what is the signature dish of Hashem, and they told me it was the hommus. Hommus it was. I always wished to eat in the old style restaurants, where you have to fight away the flies off of your plate. I loved it I swear.

Then we went walking towards this place for souvenirs. I bought few shapes of petra (that’s what they know in Jordan), two small argeeleh, and few more shapes, one of them was der3 kollana al2ordon and another was the picture of jerusalim, a 3D picture. Wow. All that was only for 40 dinars. But my sister was not done yet. So she started to negotiate with the worker there for a better price. I stepped aside since we don’t do that in the states. She managed to get him to give us 5 JD discount. I was counting the money to give the guy. She then asked him for something weird. I never heard of it before. A term called “hadeyyeh 3albee3ah”. I gave my sister a look to please leave the guy alone. She pushed me back and told me let me handle it. The guy looked at me with looks begging to put an end to this. I told him “dude, I’m from the states and have nothing to do with this”. She managed to get couple of shirts displaying the flag,.

We walked outside to this area with lots of cloth shops..traditional cloths. I wanted to buy a gown for zaid, and a small dress for my daughter. We found this beautiful gown and I wanted it. She asked the salesman about the price, and he said 7 JD, but for her, it’s 6. She wanted 5, and I was like “are u kidding me? Let it go”. The guy pulled the gown away and said “sorry” so we walked outside. She was angry at how he treated her. We looked more for a store that has the same gown. We found this guy saying it was 8 JD. I told my sister “see, if we got that one, we would’ve been better off”. We didn’t buy it. My sister said that even if the first salesman gave it free to us, we shouldn’t take it. It’s a matter of principles. What principles?
So I went to this place, and the guy was pulling us inside to look. I said “man, I’m looking for other things”. He insisted on us to enter his shop. Nice dresses..traditional ones. But I didn’t want that. He then pulled this dress..blue..traditional..and I quickly fell in love with it. He saw that in my eyes. How much is that I asked. He said 25 JD. I wanted it so bad. He then started to pull dresses for my wife, and I again fell in love with another one. I wanted both so bad now. He informed me that if I was not 100% convinced in buying them, then don’t. He was nice in a way. I wanted them. So he said 20 JD for the little one, and 30JD for the larger one. Not bad. But wait a minute, here comes my sister again. She was slick this time. She told the guy that he is the face of Jordan and that people (like me) who come as tourists would need to see the true face of Jordan. The guy smiled and said 45JD for both. My sister again asked him “ween elkaram el2orduni?”. He laughed, and so did I. I ended up getting them for 40 JD.

I still need a gown for my son. We went to this place..small place, next to a ma7ma9eh. The guy pulled us in..asked what we were looking for, and pulled this gown..an emarati gown. He said 15 JD. My sister said that she just found one for 6 JD. He said tat he too has a one for 6 JD, a Chinese one. I loved his way of sale. He started going down…13…12..10 JD. I pulled my money and started to count..stopped at 9 JD..he said “haaat ya zalameh zahhagtni 7ayaati, mabrook” while laughing outloud.

We walked back to the car..but before doing so, I wanted to see the original habiba. I always heard stories about it..is it a legend? Is it realty? There it was…a small..very small place. No room to sit..or even stand. U buy the knafeh and u walk away. So I did. Ate it in the car.

It was about 7 pm now. I asked my sister to drop me about 1 km away from home, right next to the po box of tabarboor. I started walking home…thinking about this life of mine. What would it take for me to come back here? Why am I still there? How can I utilize my knowledge and life to serve this land of mine? Silly me, I started thinking about a letter to send to the king to share with him my concerns and my vision for a Jordan that fully utilizes the expertise and the services of it’s people. It’s a duty on me to do so. So I started to build what is going to be the content of my letter. Would the king even bother reading a letter from an unknown Jordanian stuck in foreign land? Maybe not..so I brushed it off. Sometimes, when you are thinking under the influence of emotions, you tend to get into silly ideas.

As I walked past thye small mosque next to arab bank, on the curb, I saw this nice family. A papa, a mama, and one little girl, walking in the opposite direction of mine. I started to wonder why can’t I be sufficient like this guy and come and live here. I mean he may be unhappy at home..or maybe broke…or maybe barely living. But his walk with his family is what I am missing. I want to have the luxury of walking..and then stopping for falafel..or maybe some icecream…and cross the street running fearing a car hitting me…and maybe buy a kg of tomato or zucchini on my way home. That’s the normal life that I miss.

To be fair to myself, I have decided to seriously explore the opportunities for me to come back and settle here. I need it. I just can’t continue living a life that is not meant for me. Oh my…time flies by so fast. I have reached our home. I sat outside next to the eski denia tree and started looking across the house, through the backyard and watch people walking by..cars driving by…mountains in the back distance..and there it was, the big Jordanian flag from a distance. So depressing..ain’t it. But there was my uncle inside screaming at me to come in and play cards as he liked how he beat my whachamacallit the other day. So I got beaten again. The taste of loss is so sweet, when the winner is my uncle and my father. Let them be happy about how they beat me in cards, only if they know I was much much happier seeing them that moment. Good night now for the final count down has started as I reached the midpoint of my short but lovely vacation.

Two weeks in heaven, Day Six

At about 10 am, I woke up on the noises of ne of my nieces yelling at the door. The smell of freshly made coffee was allover the place. I can’t open my eyes as I woke slowly toward the bathroom. I needed a shower so bad, and that’s not because I stink. It’s just the power of shower water on the mind set of a man. Water here in Jordan flows little compared with the water in the states. I can easily spend 30 minutes under hard flowing water and never feel a time lost. But here, the water looked like barely flowing from the shower head. I felt bad for the people in Jordan and wished they enjoy the hard flowing water as w do.
The deal was that I go pray with my brother in law in the nearest mosque, and then head to my other sister’s house. So my brother in law and I left to the nearest mosque. My brother in law wasn’t enthusiastic that we were gonna be on time as he called the imam of that specific mosque “abu sree3” for he finishes prayers quickly. We drove to another mosque, a couple of kilometers away. We got there in time. We spent about 15 minutes listening to the lecture and then there was the prayer call. It feels good to be in a mosque that is crowded and no room to sit. Mosques in America have barely few rows filled.
After the prayer was over, we walked outside the mosque into the main street that connects marj el7amam with amman. I could see the signs on the road directing cars to amman, airport, and madaba. There were plenty of cars parked on the street selling vegetables and fresh produce. There were also sellers having their goods on the ground. Toys, plastic products, and even apparel products were amongst the main products sold. Another guy with a station making karabeej 7alab. I couldn’t smell the aroma, it was too much for me visioning deep fried dough. Yet, there was a long line for that.
We continued to his car and drove back to his house. My sister was waiting for me to drive to my other sister’s home. So we said good buy to the family (and the three little angels) and drove to our next destination. It was about ..umm…about 4 km away. On the way, we drove through marj el7amam. I liked the outlay of the city (except that one small round about I think on main street there). As we passed the market place, where they sell fruits and vegetables, I saw a shepherd with his sheep grazing around the market. At last, I saw what I missed the most. I used to see the same in tabarboor in the past, but not any more. It’s a shame, if you ask med.
So we arrived at my third sister’s home. She is older than me by about 4 years. Heck, her oldest daughter has two twin girls that were born 2 years ago. They don’t look like each others that much. Maybe when they grow a little more, they may develop a more look alike faces. Sat down in the front yard and started talking. My niece married this dude from hebron. So I have to not joke about khalayleh at all in his presence. He is nice, but his accent is funny. No offence to my beloved khalayleh friends of course. There, my parents were also waiting. My brother dropped him off and went to his in laws in na3oor.
Here is a thing about my nephews and nieces of this sister. They have adopted their father’s family name (which is normal of course) and they have developed this pride and ego that such name carries. I don’t wanna mention the family name, but they hold higher status (not in my opinion as I see them thieves in the west bank) amongst others. So, they brag about that name. I on the other hand, find that to be always an opportunity to hammer them and point how such name is associated with corruption. Even my brother in law is corrupted..at leas was in the past at a minimum. Still, those are my family…my blood..even if they felt that the other family’s name is bigger, or better.
Food time has come. Here is the thing. I’m not a foodaholic as I may have sounded in these posts. No…but my family is. Somehow, food has become the main reason to get family members around to see each others. So, we go inside to this big dining room table..I mean big…I mean it served 12 chairs on a normal setting. The main dish was “msakhan” as my sister perfected the dish. There is a saying in the family that when we wanna eat msakhan, we go to marj el7amam to visit my sister. There were regular flat taboon msakhan, and there were the rolls msakhan. There was also kaftah (for the khaleeli dude as he doesn’t like msakhan). On the far side on the table, there were the other regular small dishes that my family have consistently put in every food invitation. Grape leaves/zucchini and kebbeh. There was also a lamb magloobah for those who didn’t like chicken in msakhan. I got to try all of course. I don’t wanna go in details about what I did on the table, but I’m sure the picture is already developed clear.
My sister also makes great knafeh and gollaj. Figure…my day can never be easier can it now. I couldn’t eat a lot so she made me take a dish home with me. But I wasn’t going home yet. Of to Na3oor now to the in laws of my brother. We got there few minutes later. I remember visting this family 4 years ago when I last visited. Very nice family, and very basic. The father greeted me wonderfully. He started showing me the two stories he built for his two sons. Beautiful. Very respectful man. We went all the way to the roof, and wow, he prepared a beautiful setting for the family to get together in summer nights. He pointed across the street to this beautiful home/palace, and all the gardens around it. It’s supposed to be for an emir from Qatar, and a TV producer as well. The hills around. the scenery, the wind, the fresh air..all was good. I wish I can go back and live in Jordan…one day.
Couple of hours later, his brother came to visit him. He started introducing me to his brother and family so honorably as if I was his kid. As if this man is taking honor of being related, via nasab, to me. I never felt so special in my life, as I did there. It bothered me as I am not used at such treatment. Again, topics like the swine flue and the aggression of America dominated the discussions. His brother then started talking about the 67 war. My father got incolved as well as both started reflecting on the past. I needed to smoke, so I winked at my brother to call me to the kitchen.
I went there, and there were two beautiful girls. I turned around and excused myself, but my brother told me that it’s ok and not be shy. I lit cigarette and started chatting with the young girls about everything. The two were in the university. Smart and educated girls. My sister was there and so was my brother and his wife. They asked how much I gained over the past 5 days, and I said maybe 2 or 3 kg. One of the girls got me a scale and said here prove it. All laughing, I got on the scale, and bam….4 kg….oh my God…how can that be. Mrs bo3bo3 will kill me. I had lovely 10 minutes and smoked 2 cigarettes, then went back to sit with the guys. They are still talking about the war.
The night was almost over, and we excused ourselves. My sister wanted to drive her car, but my father said “you wouldn’t know your way through these narrow streets, so let me get you to the main road. After trying to convince dad to drive all the way to tabarboor, she gave in. She suggested to him to go and ride with my brother, but he refused as well. I was wondering why wouldn’t she want him sitting next to her. He drove like crazy through the dark small streets. I got scared myself, especially when he says “or those lights of a car, or a house on the side of the road”. That is scary. Is he able to even see the road, if he can’t distinguish the lights?
We got to the main highway, and I was relieved. My sister was not. So as she took the wheels, he started telling her to go to the left lane..then right lane..then avoid a speed trap by the bridge..then take the left lane to avoid the traffic coming into the highway..then take the right lane..then take this side street to avoid traffic..then…then… Now I know the rest of the story. We got to the house and she told my father “please, never ride next to me again” smiling of course.
It’s about 11 pm now. I have no schedule tomorrow. My sister wants to take me to carfour mall and then to visit my uncle in jabal alqosoor. I also wanted to relax a bit. So, we’ll see what tomorrow holds for me. But now, I’m tired knowing that I just gained 4 kg in 5 days.

Two weeks in heaven, Day Five

Day 5, Thursday

My youngest sister reserved today for her. Tomorrow is for my older sister. Both live in marj el7amam. So it should play very well. In addition, my brother in laws wanted to invite me to their humble home in na3oor. I like that family. So I figured two nights in marj el7amam should do this. As the traditions dictate, I stopped at “Arafat” pastry shop to pick up a couple of cans of sweets. We left our home in tabarboor at about 12 noon on Thursday. My mom prepared some kebbeh to take with her. Earlier that week, my sister asked if I preferred to go out to eat as her husband wanted to take the whole family to some of those big restaurants outside of amman and on jarash’s way. I prefer to eat in the house.
In Arafat, my single sister, the one that lives with my parents, and I went inside the store. As you all can see, my appetite is overwhelming. I bought two cans of baglawah. It looked good as gifts. But my eyes were set on hareeseh on the far right corner of the store. The guy working there saw me and offered a small sample. But he doesn’t know that I want much more. So I bought ½ kilo to snack on the road to marj el7amam.
My father doesn’t like to drive during the nights, so the deal was that he will drive us there, and my sister will drive back. My brother was supposed to follow us at 3 pm when he gets off work, along with his wife and beautiful two daughters and little son. So my father wanted to drive my sister’s car, a small hundai, like ala’s car. Maybe a newer one. My sister got greedy and pressed on my father to drive the Mercedes that he just bought, thanks to the recent Jordanian law cancelling the tariffs on cars for retired officers in the Jordanian army. My father won of course, and we got in the hundai. But I gotta give it for my sister for she tried hard enough.
We got to my youngest sister at about 1:30 pm. The three little angels greeted us with joy. My sister promised a surprise. It turned out to be “67alat”. I don’t eat that anywhere. That’s the damn filter for the liver. It’s yuckie. But she promised that it will be different. When my wife came and visited last year, she spoke highly of the 67alat that my sister makes. My father never changed. He does the same things he did in our house here in the states when he visited last year. There he is in the kitchen frying the kebbeh. My mom is preparing it for him. My sister is working on the stuffed 67alat, and the liver.
It’s food time (what a surprise). The 67alat look so damn good. There are so many of them. So I tried them, and my God, they tasted so damn good. I couldn’t stop. I tried some of that baked liver, and went back to the 67alat again. One after another, I couldn’t stop. No kebbeh and no more liver. Just 67alat. I may have eaten 4 or 5 whole ones that day. Again, as usual, I laid back on the couch complaining about my stomach.
My brother in law wanted to show me something. We went outside. He actually wanted to take me away from my father so I can smoke a Marlboro or two. He has a beautiful setting outside. We sat down, and then he pointed west towards some hills. He said “that’s Palestine..and you can actually see Jericho from here. I looked closely and yes I could see the promised land. What a beautiful site. The teat then came and wow, what a scenery.
At about 5 or 6 pm, my father wanted to go home. So my brother took my parents with him and they left home. My sister and I stayed behind. Soon after, my brother in law went out to drive in marj el7amam. We got to alqadi pastry shop and had small portion of knafeh. There is no place in my stomach at all. We then got to this coffee shop and sat there. He is 31 years old, but very active. He now owns a small plastic factory that he started from scratch. I admire his persistence to achieve. He only has a high school diploma, but had to quit college to support his mom and brothers. I remember when he proposed to my sister, he didn’t even have the money to buy the gold. But my father had a good vision in men, and he helped him stand up on his feet. Now, he is standing up and providing for many people.
While we were at the coffee shop, his brother showed up. His brother sounded like a loser that lives in the states. No consistent job and always in trouble. I felt that he was like a typical arab American. Oh well, who cares. I was enjoying the chat with my brother in law. He even got to my mind an idea to go back to Jordan and start a small plastic factory. This is how he started, and he offered to provide as much assistant as he could, especially in regulations and connections in Jordan. To tell you the truth, I was convinced for a moment, but who am I kidding…I suck when it comes to business.
We stopped at a small store on the way back to his house, and we picked juicy hot roasted penuts. What is it with people in Jordan and food? I mean easy. I bet I am now 3 kg heavier in the past 4 days. Oh well, we got back and we sat down chatting and munching. The three little girls started arguments as who loves uncle bo3bo3 more. So I played a little with them..hide and seek, and watch out for the bo3bo3..,monster. Actually, this is how I got my nickname, is when I was chasing zaid when he was little and mom would tell him “watch the bo3bo3, he is after you”. Sounds like corrupted family that terrorizes children…but we are not.
There was a movie….about a prisoner who is dumped in an island, and on the island, there were two factions of prisoners..the good and the evil. An old movie if you ask me. So I mentioned that I saw this movie years ago. They watched and were excited. At about 1 am, they all were tired, so all three asked me to tell them the ending so they can go to bed. So…I did. My brother in law and I slept in the guests room, and we locked the door fearing that the kids, who slept at 9 pm, would be up early and bug us.
Tomorrow, I am visiting my older sister. The last time I was in Jordan, she was in dubai during the shopping event. I love her so much….and I hate her husband so much. Thank god he is in abu dhabi for work so I don’t get to see his face. See ya’al tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow I don’t eat this much again. Maybe I will.

Two weeks in heaven, Day four

Day 4, Wednesday
I seem to like the habit of sleeping till late morning. I again got up around noon. The night life in amman is so amazing, even if you spend it chatting with family members or playing cards. Today I’m supposed to visit my wife’s family. This is the first time I visit them after my father in law died, may he rest in peace. It is also the first time after my young brother in law was killed at an early age. Till today, my wife’s family refuses to accept the deyyeh. I think it’s a matter of time before his killer is killed.
We got there about 2 pm as we were invited for lunch. After greeting them, and comforting them, I sat in the guests room. My dad and my mom were with me. My uncle showed up a little later, with his wife. My brother in law, who is teaching chemical engineering in Jordan, also arrived a little later. We sat down and started chatting about the usual. How is mrs bo3bo3 and how is America. Is it true that America is deliberately changing the name “pigs flue” to H1N1 to hide the fact that pork is bad? This proves that Islam was always right. I know how people think over there. I don’t blame them. I tried to dodge such questions as much as possible fearing that I speak my true mind and anger some people there.
Lunch is ready. AAAAh..music to my ear. They made lots of food. Kabsah, stuffed chickens, kuftah, and the usual grape leaves. I ate very good. I couldn’t help it, but the food was truly good. I am now thinking how am I gonna handle that my brother invited me for late luch, and that tonight, at 8 pm, I’m meeting good friends from Mahjoob for dinner. I know today is gonna be a bad day for my stomach. Oh well, I wanted to enjoy the moment.
We then sat back in the guests room and started talking. There is money for my wife from her inheritance that I was given. I then took my brother in law, the one who has a chemical engineering degree, and started talking about Jordan. Projects like withdrawing water from the red sea to the dead sea was one of the topics. He is doing great handling projects that the EU is supporting. Of course, government again was blamed for so much bad things in Jordan. Typical discussion in the homes of amman.
It was time for me to go home…tabarboor that is. So at 5 pm, we got back to the house. I quickly went upstairs to my brother’s apartment for late lunch. Hos wife made kabsah and mlookheyyeh. Agaon, and against the pleas of my stomach to stop, ate pretty good. His wife makes great pastries as well. I wish I could call the guys and cancel tonights appointment, but I couldn’t. I really wanted to meet these guys and finally put a face on a nick name.
At about 7:45 PM, I walked towards the French bakery in tabarboor. That was the meeting place with Ala. I bought a pack of Marlboro ultra light from the store next door. I was standing on the street, puffing on my Marlboro. I called Ala and told him where I was. Few minutes later, this guy shows up in his car looking at me smiling. He called my name and I answered. So he made a U-turn to pick me up. I got in his car and we drove to the town. I asked where we were meeting, and he mentioned “qasr almandi”. Only if he knows that I had two kabsah already today. I was ok for a third one.
On the way, he called the remaining gang members to let them that we are on the way. So we got there, and we stood outside. The first victim showed up, Enigma. I looked at his plates to see if they were mokhabarat plates. They were not. A sign of relief that is. After greeting, the Jordanian way, we waited for the fourth member of our meeting, Hector. He showed up less than 5 minutes later. A very quiet shay man. Enigma was of course the tallest one. It took me some efforts to greet him. I needed a ladder to get up there.
We went inside and got a table on the second floor. After making sure that their lamb is balady, we ordered mandi. The four of us were eating. Ala was surpassing all of us. He wasn’t talking a lot of course. We tried to talk about general things, still, we got dragged to talk about mahjoob. The fifth member then showed up. “wa7ad mo7aseb” was his nick name. Another quiet man.
The bill came, and as usual, a fight erupted on the table as who will pay. Since Enigma is mokhabarat, and he was the tallest one, he won the battle. We then headed out to habiba. We had some knafeh. Most of us ordered one style; i.e. either kheshneh or na3meh. But of course, Enigma had to be different, so he ordered half and half. He wasn’t happy with his choice, but good, he deserves it. 2 hours later, the waiter came and kicked us out. It was about midnight now.
Our next stop was bel monde coffee shop on mecca street. We got there, parked the car, and got inside. I rushed to the bathroom of course. The waiter came and asked us what we would like to order. Ala was going to order banana split, but after everyone looked at him, he changed his mind. We started talking about the encounters with police. Each had good stories to tell. We laugher hard that night. At about 1 am, the waiters there again kicked us out, but kindly. You know, they placed the chairs on the tables as a sign that they are finished for the night. The other sign was that we were the only table there. So we got up and left.
Ala and I were given rides back to his car. His car was not responding. Mtann7ah like it’s owner. We charged the battery and of we went. Enigma stayed behind us to make sure we got to tabarboor’s traffic light safely. Ala’s car is now without head lights. If he stops, we are done. Luckiely, he kept going in the dark. We got to my house safely. Later, I found that he also got home safely.
The sad thing is that the night is over. How can it be over? I wish I can rewind the clock back few hours to enjoy one of the best nights I spent in Jordan again. My stomach was sure happy that the night was over. I laid back thinking about tomorrow. Come to think of, I don’t even know if this was Wednesday or Thursday. I am not even sure. Regardless, it was a night never to forget. I met some good people that I never seen before, yet, I felt that I known them for long time. See you tomorrow..which is probably Thursday…or Friday…who knows..I may have forgotten a day here or there.

two weeks in Heaven, Day three

Day 3, Tuesday
I was a little tired from last night. Maybe the fact that I was awake for over 36 hours during my flight and to the time I slept played a hand in this exhaustion. I managed to wake up at 11 am on the sound of my little nephew who was slapping my face as I was asleep. Of course, my brother got to hear about that. Looking at this boy’s face brings so much joy. He is only 10 months old but is very active. I was angry at myself because I missed the joy of buying hommus and falafel in the morning. Oh well, today I shouldn’t eat much since my brother is preparing barbeque. He only makes 600 JD a month, and I hated to cause him any money. But we all know how Jordanians insist on what they call “wajeb”.
We went to “yajooz” area to slaughter a lamb. Aaah…the joy of seeing live sheep running around. That one on the far side looks good. I can see his leyyeh hanging, and my brother loves barbeques leyyeh. If you ask me, that’s not my thing. So we slaughtered the lamb and had the guy cut it for us. A little for the koftah and a little for the kabab. Even the bones didn’t go to waste. They would look good under grape leaves and zucchini. So we went home. The women started to prepare the meat. My sister and her husband arrived at 4 PM. There comes the three little angels. My other brother arrived at 5 pm and we loaded the cars. They were debating as where to go. Some suggested some park in Yajooz’s road. Some suggested the house since my father prepared a barbeque stand next to a nice looking water fountain. They asked me, and I wasn’t sure what to answer. I really wanted to be in a place that over looks amman. I missed my moments of isolations on the hills of tabarboor. So we head out to this park on Yajooz’s road. I can’t remember the name. It was on a steep climb.
We started hashing and nashing. My sister had prepared the music. Dabkah music. We started singing and dancing. I got tired quickly and wanted that few moments alone. I wanna speak to the desert. Sure I’m crazy, but it’s joyfull craziness. So I went to the highest point in that park and looked south west. Amman is beautiful. Especially around sunset. Mountains full of houses. Houses full of people. I wish I was one of those people. Then I heard the song “ma7la eldaar” for al3abdallat from my sister’s radio. I laid back, leaned my head against a tree and started enjoying this moment. I felt that the land was singing joyfull of my coming home. I told you I’m crazy…but happy. Then I heard people talking. I looked to my right and found two young girls talking. Maybe sisters. Ok bo3bo3, easy now. Mrs bo3bo3 won’t be happy.
Oh…Mrs bo3bo3. I almost forgot about her. I called her to let her know how happy I was. For a moment, she started talking about how tough it’s without me there. My mind wasn’t with her..nor with the two women. The desert and the mountains are taking me from her. So I comforted her over the phone. Come on honey, it’s only been 3 days. The call from my father to come and fiest struck my ears, so I told her I’ll call her back. I ran quickly to the food. I haven’t had breakfast and I was hungry. The food tasted so beautiful.
Ala called me to confirm our meeting. I then called a Hector and he didn’t recognize me. I also thought it was a wring number. The meeting was set for Wednesday, tomorrow. Good. It was then time for us to go home. I wished I could stay, not because of those two cute girls, but because I was enjoying something I was always fanaticizing about…loneliness on the hills of amman. I had to go with the family in the end. So we drove home.
We got home, and I decided to go with my brother to get pastries. He suggested Arafat, habiba, zalateemo, and alsahl al2akhdar. I didn’t care. I was in the mood for hareeseh. So we went to alsahl el2akhdar for some hareeseh. I ended up getting hareeseh, knafeh, and something called “been nareen”. I think I gained 5 lb already in the first three days.
My uncle finally showed up at about 10 pm. He wanted to play cards..so I teamed up with my mom, against him and my father. We won the first round, but lost the two next ones. Oh my…it’s almost 3 am now. I think I should get some sleep. See you tomorrow.

Two Weeks in Heaven

As many of u, and the mokhabarat, know that I have just came from my jordanian vacation. I have enjoyed every hour and every minute, to the point that I would love to share my humble experience with you. For that, and as a punishment to you all, I am gonna post a post per every day I spent there. Sue me :)
Day 1, Sunday 4/26/09
As my delta flight approached Palestine, and as I heared the captain demanding passengers to sit down because it was a "closed air space" as he indicated, I started watching from my window the middeterrenian sea. Suddenly, I could see palestine. It was about 4 pm that afternoon. I could see cities..and there was part of the dead sea. Even though I never seen palestine, and nore did my father (except during the war), I still have lots of feelings towards a land that is dear to my heart....and my religion. It's the land of my grandfather after all.
I could now see queen's alia airport from a distance. My heart started pounding faster. The plane continued flying pass the airport, probably preparing to approach the airport from the east. I always get a window seat. During my flights in the states, all I see is patches of green..rivers..and lots of communities. But now I only see yellow...beige...nothig but desert. I told myself, in a loud voice, "sa7ra sa7ra, w rabb elka3beh ajmal men jannat al2ard".
The plane landed..and now we were taxing towards the gate. I got my carry-on, and stood eagerly to exit the plane. The door opened and I felt a born again bo3bo3. As I walked through the brisge into the airport, I could see cigarret butts on the floor. For a moment, I felt " damn, they will never change" but quickly awakened to the fact that I don't want them to change.
I approached the Visa counter to obtain a visa on my US passport, i saw the jordanian natinal counter empty. I went there, and asked if I could enter using my 2 year expired jordanian passport. The guy at the counter smiled and told me "of course you can". So I did. I went straigh to the duty free market for the normal procedure. 4 cartoons of cigarrettes for my brothers. I then got my two luggage and went straight to the gates. One guard stopped me asking if I had more than 2 cartoon of cigarettes, and I answered yes I have four. He laughed and instructed me to continue on.
As I passed through the arrival hall, I saw my father. I greeted him as usual and we went straight to his car. We loaded the luggage into his car and drove out. He is getting older and older now, yet, I could see the youngness in him as he was driving like a race car driver in his new car. I was happy seeing him happy as well. Of course, he called home to let them know that we are on our way.
On the drive home, I was starring at the land. I couldn't believe that I am in Jordan. It felt as I was on one of regular business flights, but this is different. I still see people on the side of the street selling coffee. There were some selling "7amleh malaneh" and bananna's. Amman changed. It's still beautifull. There is the big flag that I could see from dad's home in 6abarboor. We go through streets that i don;t recognize.
Then we apprach 6abarboor traffic light. It is still the same. Now I know my way home. Same places that I left 4 years ago. We now apprach our 25 years old home. Back in the days, there were only two houses on that hill, one of them was ours. There wasn't even a raod leading to it back then. As I exited the car, I could see my two brothers and my two sisters. I greeted them and was suddenly surrounded by so many kids I don;t even know who is who.
Not to my suprise, the smell of jameed was filling the neighberhood. I sat inside the living room talking to the family and mom was planning the "mansafiesta". I ate..and ate..and ate more. It's now about 9 pm, and I wanted habiba knafeh. So I got my sister and we drove to habiba. Got me 5 kilo's and went home. Everyone was yelling at me that 3 kilo would've been enough for the small familia. So I told them fine, you get your 3 kilo, and I'll do the rest. I don't know how I managed, but I did finish the rest..sort of.
One of my sisters is married, so she had to go home wiuth her husband. The other one is not. We sat home and we made coffee, and drank. I didn;t wanna go to bed, but everyone else wanted to. I didn;t care it was 2 am. I just wanted to utalize every minute of my stay in jordan. So we all slept. I was up at 5:30 am on the sound of prayer. i admit that I was so happy hearing such sound. This is something we never hear in america. So i got up, prayed, and prepared coffee. My sister woke up on the smell of coffee.

Day 2
I woke up early hearing the fajr prayer. Nothing beats drinking coffee in our front yard seeing the sun barely coming out. I tried to be quiet as much as possible, but the sound of cars was overwhelming. Tabarboor sure changed a lot. At about 7 am, my brother came down from his apartment. He was going to work. Few chats, and he was on his way. There was something itching me, and I used to do it in the past. I want to go and buy breakfast…like the good old days. So I kept bugging my sister to get ready for breakfast.
She insisted to take me to abu jbarah. I didn’t care. So we headed straight to abu jbarah. We got a can of hommus, a can of foul, and 40 pieces of falafel (at which, my sister was gonna get a heart attack). On the way back to tabarboor, I watched the school kids wait for their rides. The traffic was pretty bad, but we were heading home, and that is against the traffic flow on a work day.
We stopped at a bakery in tabarboor that specializes in 6aboon. We bought 4 pieces (oh..the smell…it sure is heaven on earth). We were home by 9 am. My parents were up of course. We gathered in the kitchen to prepare the breakfast. All four of sat down around the kitchen table and I started enjoying the falafel. They didn’t eat much, but that’s ok. They don’t know that most of us in ghorbah would pay dearly just for a half an hour around kitchen table, with the family, and feeling the beautiful morning breeze of tabarboor. It’s not the falafel…but the whole atmosphere.
Ata little before 10 am, I could hear my father calling me so we can go and renew the passport. We left the house to the government building. May have been the 4th circle???I can’t remember where it was. Have I mentioned that my father drives like a young stallion? Ever since he got his Mercedes, he was acting funny. It awakened a young driver in him. At any way, I was holding the side bar in the car throughout the drive. He scares me. But maybe this is how all Jordanian drive.
At the counter, we filled a quick 2 page application and attached pictures and took a number. I loved the concept of taking a number and wait your turn. This wasn’t the case few years back. My number was called, and I went to the window. A beautiful Jordanian woman was working behind the counter. I wish she smiles. Why can’t she smile. Please smile. For heavens sake smile…I won’t take it the wring way. Oh well…never mind. I gave her the application, paid my 20 JD at the cashier and was told to come back in 30 minutes. So my dad and I walked….toward a company called “baytona” not too far from the passport place.
We got inside and my dad was trying to get dividends on his stocks in that company. They owe him for two years. It wasn’t a lot, but he thought to stop by since he was in the area anyways. The guy working there apologized that he doesn’t have money in the cashier to pay him. My dad was yelling at the poor guy and questioning how a company this size doesn’t have 590 JD in the office. I was laughing at the way he was yelling.
It was 30 minutes and we got my passport back. We drove back to the house and we were home before 12 noon. I was a little tired, but if I sleep now, I’ll be up all night. So I didn’t. I walked towards “down town tabarboor”. The sun was hot, but that tabarboorian breeze is making it easy on me. I picked up my cell phone that my sister got me for the 2 weeks, and called Mr ala aldeen to let him know that I have arrived. I asked him to give me a couple of days until I finish seeing my family and then we shall get together.
I then went home and sat..awaiting my brother’s arrival. He came home at 3 pm. We then went out for a drive. My mom was preparing lunch for the family. My second favorite meal…grape leaves and zucchini. I bought few books and PC programs for Zaid as mrs bo3bo3 instructed (and threatened) me. Teaching Arabic for English speaking children. At 5 pm, we were home. We ate. My sister and her husband showed up. Finally..I missed those three little girls of hers. The 2 years old one is cute. They r all cute, but this one was sweet and was trying to get closer to me.
After lots of tea and coffee, it was time for shawarma. So my two brothers, and my two sisters went out to mecca street in a hunt for reem’s shawarma. We bought 20 meat and 20 chicken shawarma’s….in “shrak” bread. I couldn’t wait to get home to eat..so I ate two meat shawarma’s on the way. We stopped by habiba on the way and grabbed a couple of kg of knafah.
We had lots of fun that night. Again, my sister and her daughters had to leave home. I do appreciate my brother in law for bringing my sister. They live in marj el7amam, which is a far distance from tabarboor, yet he didn’t mind driving her back and forth. My father started his argeeleh, and I snuck outside for a cigarette. I am almost 40 yrs old, yet, my father never saw me smoking…ever. Maybe I’m still scared since the time his frind saw me smoking and my father chased me with his gun in the street s of alain, UAE when I was 15 yrs old. Oh well….I am so tired now. I think I wanna sleep for 20 hours. Tomorrow, I’m going to visit the family of my wife.