Me and Eric left home late this morning. He had needed a shower and the hot water heater took longer to warm the water up then expected. The heater isn’t an American style heater, it’s a small tank without insulation that stays off unless you turn it on and he forgot to turn it on when he got up.
It was raining outside, which ain’t normal for Amman. You can tell we’re on the edge of the desert out here. You conserve water. There are no water-fountains. The water gets turned on only once a week. All the Fremen wear stillsuits. So it was good that it was raining, but Amman can’t handle rain so all the traffic ran slow.
When we got into the cab I gave the driver directions. He looked kind of haggard and tired and sad. He looked, in short, like a stereotypical Jordanian.
“Jabbal al-Webbdeh, shukran” I told him.
He looked back at me with baleful eyes and in a skeptical deadpan said “In Shah Allah,” if god wills it. He seemed seriously doubtful that god would grant us that grace.
We got to our culture course late. When we got in Samia was talking to the class about art. She is opinionated. She is inconsistent. She is, in short, an artist. And she is teaching out art course like Mark VanBuskirk the Earlham drawing prof would, but his occasional aggravating artsyness magnified over and over again. The art was good this time, I will put pictures of cool things up on Facebook, and i will try to see if I can get it on this blog.
The ridiculous things is that the thing I may have been most interested in was the floors. They were Pergo wood-laminate floors, the kind I’ve usually installed when I did floors back home.Yalla-bye!