Work, life and grocery shopping

Be in a foreign country has several difficulties when it comes to daily basis. Where can I buy stuff? where can I find a supermarket? In Europe this is not a big problem since almost in each corner you can find a place to buy stuff, but outside europe everything gets more difficult. Here in Amman each street has a tiny shop where you can buy just a handful of things, nothing major. Yesterday I was strolling between the second and the first circle (I will explain one day the orientation in Amman) and I discover a normal supermarket…well, maybe normal is not the word since in the entrance two chinise women were screaming at their childs…they are everywhere!. In the supermarket I found everything, but mainly western products so maybe I should try to find something more authentic.

Life and work in Amman is going pretty well. Work is nice, although I hate waking up early. It is funny to see how much people is hired to do nothing. A guy is just sitting in a lobby, reading the newspaper and having coffe all the day, but actually nobody knows what is his task. Three guys are outside fixing the 5 sq metres garden and it looks like that will take the whole summer. But the funniest of all is an old guy, with a suit and the palestinian scarf in his head, he doesn´t speak english but he gives candies to everybody with a huge smile…I guess that is his job, give candies and smile so people cheer up.

Another interesting thing about work is the dress. I wear a suit, so when I am going or coming back from job I become one of those ex-pats, with a business briefcase and taking cabs everywhere. Yesterday I went to a 5-starts hotel where is located a Royal Air Jordanian office, when the cab stopped in the door of the hotel five guys were there and one opened my door…I think it was the first time somebody opens the door of a car to let me out. however, I kind of like finish work, go out, take a cab, untie my tie, burn up a cigarrete and dive into the crazy amman traffic…

landing in Amman

I am finally in the Middle East, in my hub, Amman but feeling rather in a broader region, Palestine is here, Israel is here, Iraq also has presence here and the bedouins, those without borders, also here.

I took off three days ago from Madrid in a Royal Air Jordanian plane (Airbus 321 for plane-freaks) and after few bumpy hours reading and watching my personal screen, I landed in a pretty funny airport…I had the feeling of being landing in Kabul or some American-controlled airport in Iraq; dust and sand was everywhere, creating a thin layer around each single object and also some sort of brown-fog. The former Iraqui Airways planes still settle there (probably forever), accumulating sand, dust and years in the airport´s offshore. After landing, first Middle East shock, the army is, as usually, waiting the plane and their passangers; nothing major, just formalities to increase the security feeling and keep happy the american friend.

While I go into the airport everything still resemble the old impression of the arab world;I feel in the 60´s when the Middle East was only about adventure and business, when freedom fighters waged a war against colonialism and united under the pan-arab flag, I feel like in a spy-film…everybody is shouting in the passport line, the computer looks as simple atrezzo, pen, paper and hand are the working tools and three different stamps are printed in my passport. But a easily understable voice take me away of the film, an arab, waving a paper is screaming “Viajes el Corte Inglés!”… the romanticism is gone, el Corte Ingles has taken over.

After the messy visa procedure, I decide to cross the border and the guy behind the glass refuse to take my passport, “no problem, Welcome!” says to me pointing the door. I am oficially in Jordan; three baggage belts are around me, dusty as everything; cigarrete smoke is everywhere, I am in the Middle East. I look after the MAdrid belt, but the 1980s screens over them are not working…so, how am I suppose to guess where is my baggage? easy, someone will come and scream: “Madrid belt 17!” … 17?? but, I only see three. The Corte Ingles guy goes to the last belt so that must be 17th…inshallah.

Once I get my baggage, taxi to the IFPO (French relic-plunder centre) and find my room. I am finally in Amman, I got to the window and I contemplate the hills where Amman is set up, everything is dark and noisy, I am in the Middle East

Getting ready

Friday, May 30th, in 15 days I will be landing Amman, the capital city of Jordan, with the task of survive there at least until august. I will be working as an intern (a.k.a for free) during that time, but the main aim of my adventure isn’t that, I am looking forward to understand the Middle East, its people and its troubles. The nightmare of any social scientist. The most sacred place on earth, where each inch matters, where any symbol is part of the History, part of the religion and part of the conflict. As headquarters, Amman, surrounding me, the oldest city in the world (or so they say) Damascus, the most sacred city for the three religions of the book (Christians, Muslims and Jews) where their Gods were born, died, buried or illuminate, this is, Jerusalem. Of course it cannot be missed Beirut, a hot spot in the media, and a proxy scenario for all the warring parties in the Middle East and further away. A bit further, but still pretty much reachable, Cairo, cradle of civilizations, cradle of the modern Arab identity and, ironically, the first Arab country who recognized Israel.
Probably it will be difficult to get bored, in the Middle East there is always something to learn or to inquire, and if all of this falls apart, just grab your stuff, look around, find the right place and sit down with a tea and a narguile.