Love v. Hate

There are so many things I love about Amman.

I love the very early sunrise.

I love the white buildings by day and the white lights at night.

I love the donkey that lives nearby and brays like someone’s killing him.

I love the juice sellers that walk along the edges of the road, who carry enormous golden vases, as tall as they are, filled with artificial flowers as the mark of their trade.

I love the food.

I love the goats and sheep grazing on the hills between the buildings.

I love how, whenever I ride in a taxi, I always think I’m going to die and I never do.

I love the people who insist on pouring you a cup of tea.

I love how many different ways the women of Jordan can wrap a scarf.

I love the Roman ruins.

I love that they let you climb on the Roman ruins.

I love the intricacy of the language.

And, of course, there are many things I hate:

I hate the omnipresent smell of backed-up toilet.

I hate that there are hardly any proper sidewalks.

In general, I hate that this is not a walking city.

I hate that bare shoulders are taboo.

I hate the lack of parks or other natural beauty.

I hate that I’m not supposed to go anywhere alone.

I hate that, if I do go somewhere alone, I feel intensely uncomfortable.

I hate the stares.

I hate the comments.

I hate that even my Jordanian friends who are male are inappropriate sometimes.

I hate how trapped all this makes me feel.

I hate memorizing vocabulary.

And there you have it. Granted, I’m having a bad day today, so the cons list might be a little longer than usual. But hey, if you can’t vent on the Internet…

Okay, the next post will be about hijab, which is cooler than you think.