Jordan

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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.

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A city glowing gold in the sunset.  And my very first selfies.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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?

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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.

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