zindagi migzara

old friends in new places

I was thrilled when I checked my facebook last week and found a message from my dear dear friend Lindsey- my travel buddy, confidante, and everything else in India. I can't count the number of times that girl and I almost died together in good ol' Hindustan- whether it was (unknowlingly) almost crossing the border into Pakistan, having a firecracker go off 4 feet from our faces on a cycle rickshaw in the Chawri Bazaar, or most infamously, getting literally pushed off a moving bus into a crowd of men in Moradabad and having to hide in the women's bathroom until Parul-ji came and found us. We've been literally and figuratively everywhere together and I consider her one of my closest friends. She's the type of person that I could go months without talking to and then have the best conversation ever about random stuff. So you can imagine that I was really excited when she told me that her recent Israel-Palestine travels would also be taking her to Jordan, and that she would be in Amman on Saturday. I couldn't wait to see her.

She called me soon after I got back from Petra and told me she was waiting at 1st Circle in the Diplomat Restaurant- a restaurant that a friend of mine had just told me was a popular hangout for Russian prostitutes. And that is where our adventure started. We walked down trendy Rainbow Street for awhile, getting some shawarma and just catching up. Then we decided to head downtown- except I couldn't figure out how to get there. We spent about an hour just trying to find that magic staircase that leads from Jebel Amman to downtown, and it made me realize that this was actually the first time I had really just wandered in Amman. I've been here three weeks, and everytime I leave my apartment, there's been a clear destination. I missed that feeling of just walking and not really knowing where I was going. Even despite my brand new post-Petra sunburn, I didn't mind walking around in the blazing Middle Eastern sun that Saturday. Finally we conceded though, and asked the English-speaking staff in Wild Jordan. We got downtown and walked around for a bit, just as aimlessly. Finally after about 2 hours, we made our way to Jafrah where over the course of 6 hours, 2 margherita pizzas, 4 mint-lemons juices, and 2 nargiles, we just talked. About everything.

Lindsey talked about Israel, and while she loved Jerusalem, she would never go back to Israel. She couldn't stand the "pity me" attitude that pervaded everything. I can't wait to go this summer and experience that myself.

I talked about Jordan, and how I feel safe here, but not comfortable. And about how in India, we felt the opposite. Comfortable, but not safe. I can walk around Amman and know that except for a few stares and the occasional annoying comment from some bored guys, probably nothing will happen to me. But I don't feel comfortable. I don't feel at ease. I spend every day wondering what's going to come next, what I'm going to do when this person leaves, where am I going to live in a couple weeks, and what's going on with everyone back home. I have yet to really feel relaxed. My mind has been running on overdrive the past three weeks, and because of that I've (hopefully temporarily) lost that reason for why I'm here. I've never been alone before like I am here, and it's tough. I read blog posts and have conversations with friends in other countries, who live in these huge houses bursting with trainees, things to do every night, never alone. It's not like that here in Jordan. I'm sure it sounds like I'm complaining, but I'm really not. I'm jealous of my friends that are being constantly stimulated in other countries, but at the same time, I'm excited to finally learn how to entertain myself, read some good books, and really rely on myself. Because that's what it all comes down to, right?

But at the same time, there's no point in cutting off things from home. It's home for a reason- that's why it's there. People and places. If you cut off your relationships from home, trying to build a life completely separate from everything back home, those relationships surely will suffer, no matter how strong things were to begin with. That's just common sense, right?

About how both of us have a yet undefined, but growing trust and belief in something more powerful. I don't know if it's the constant calls to prayer, discussions about religion, books I've read, or just the environment I'm living in that has made me feel this way, but my faith in something really has been what's gotten me through the loneliness these past few weeks. And I felt it more than ever this past weekend at Petra: reaching the top of Jebel Harun maybe the closest to God I've ever felt, except only for the death of my grandmother this past winter. I haven't quite made sense of it yet, but I would like to.

About how much India changed us. It didn't change us as individuals as much as it changed our perspective on the outside world. About how both of us have almost become numb to seeing poverty, hearing those scripted lines from the kids on the street, etc, etc. Yet we both continue to study and be apart of the issue. Here I am working at JOHUD, the largest NGO in Jordan, yet I don't feel sorry for those people that I'm working to help. But for some reason, I keep going in this direction. Is that bad or good? Does anyone really need sympathy? I realize I've become quite jaded.

About how no matter what, things really will be okay. Uncertain futures, relationships, money, still not knowing where I stand on many issues. but it's okay. It's about the journey, not the destination, right?

posted by Laura @ 1:22 AM