Day One: Arab Luxury

I may have taken a year of Arabic, but as I arrive in Jordan, one thing is now clear: I do not know a lick of that language. I seriously cannot understand an Arabic word out of people’s mouths here and it’s super disappointing. I can read like, three or four written words on the signs, but other than that I may as well be illiterate. A year of flashcards for nothing!!! Thankfully, everyone speaks English here – for the most part – and most signs are written in Arabic and English. The proliferation of English in the world is both a privilege and a handicap, in my opinion anyway. While it’s nice to be able to get around on one language globally, it also prevents native English speakers from ever really learning another language. Consequently, most Americans are hopelessly monolingual – while our friends in other nations have two, three languages under their belts.

Anyway, after waking up and eating breakfast on the flight to Amman, we touched down in the country, and walked outside to see that it was evening. That was a strange time-lapse experience. Even though I’ve only been up for like, five hours, I’m still exhausted. So far, we are getting the royal treatment. I feel extrememly unqualified to be here. You should see the hotel room I’m writing in right now. I get an entire room to my self at the Royal Jordanian Hotel – one of the nicest hotels I’ve ever stayed at, hands down. I was fairly taken aback by the amount of security we had to go through upon arriving at the hotel; metal detectors, baggage scan, just like an airport. I thought it was pretty strange – considering Amman’s not even that dangerous. I mean, can you imagine having to go through a metal detector before entering a U.S. Hilton? No.

As I swung through my hotel’s bold glass doors, I caught a glimpse of the Hyatt looming next door. The Hyatt triggered my memory, and suddenly, the security made sense. Back in 2005, terrorists attacked three hotels here in Jordan – including the Hyatt across the street. Around 50 (I think) people were killed. The Jordanians called the incident “their Sept. 11.” Undoubtedly, intense security procedures at Amman hotels are a direct response to the 2005 bombings; the hoteliers here aren’t just baselessly paranoid. I’m happy their security procedures are preventing another such attack from taking place while I’m in the country. Terrorists: don’t mess with me.

After I freshened up in my (awesome) hotel room, we went down to eat at this ridiculous buffet. Lots of stuff I had never seen before – most of it really good. I only choked once after consuming this beef-like food and mentioning that it was good. “What is this?” I asked, “Oh,” replied one of trip-mates, “that’s liver or kidney I believe.” All of a sudden, it did not taste so good anymore. I pushed it aside and went for the tiramisu.

Ok, time for bed on day one, or two, I don’t know my timing is messed. I gotta get up early to go meet Jordan’s foreign minister at its prime ministry five minutes down the road. Until later, masalaama.