Busy streets, dead sea bath scrubs, kind smiles behind smokey eyes. In my hotel room there is a complimentary box of dates, stuffed and dusted with nuts and sugar, in more ways than I knew existed.
A city glowing gold in the sunset. And my very first selfies.
I hired a taxi to take me on a tour, because this is my first time in Jordan. Even though I just kissed my life good-bye, the fact remains that when you’re tired of London, you’re tired of Life. This is not London, but I’m also not dead yet. Neither is this brave guy.
There are lots of people; sitting in groups, mostly men but women too, and children. Families walking to the mosque, little ones screaming, not so different from home. A group of young college kids gather at the Citadel at sunset. Men in suits and boys in jeans, and women both covered and uncovered, walking arm in arm.
Tourists, yoga, a golden sun; casting a muted orange glow over a hillside cluttered with homes that look just like a city of building blocks.
Crumbling store fronts that run into each other, selling tea, schwarmas, hookahs. The dining room at my hotel is resplendent and I can’t believe I get to eat breakfast here! On these soft couches with servers who keep my cappuccino filled, and fresh stems of flowers everywhere.
Last night there was a wedding in the garden. I took pictures from my window and watched people dance, and fell asleep before the music stopped.
The mosque is covered in blue tiles, inside filled with carpets and stained glass. I see symbols that seem Jewish and Christian in this Muslim place, it’s hard to tell sometimes, where one religion ends and another begins?
My glimpse is of geometry. the color blue, and couches in the kitchen; a place where people hold hands with their wives and smile with their eyes. A soft beginning to a journey that still stretches too far yet to consider the end. I’m glad there are so many versions of God to see us through.