Laura’s abroad in Amman, Jordan, until Dec. 19.

Salaam Alaikum! After two days of buses and planes, I have arrived in Jordan – and 24 hours later my luggage did as well, alhumduhlilah. The only slightly unnerving part of the journey (other than when my plane’s engine broke in Utah) was when we flew through Israeli airspace and had to remain in our seats with our windows open.

My jet-lag meant I slept through the morning prayers around 5 a.m., but in the afternoon I heard the call as it drifted over the bustling city. Again this evening, I walked out of the supermarket to hear the call coming from a nearby minaret shining with a green light. No one around me seemed to take much notice, but I thought it was beautiful.

Listen to the afternoon call to prayer:

This morning as our taxi drove through Abdoun, the nicer part of Amman, we saw goats on the side of the road near the British embassy compound, complete with a machine gun out front. My classmates reported that another herd of goats passed by the window during our morning lecture. We’re perched on one of Amman’s twenty-odd hills that cluster around the old Roman ruins dating from when the city was known as “Philadelphia.” By 1 A.D., Amman was part of the cluster of commercial cities know as the Decapolis, stretching through Jordan, Syria and Palestine.

Now, however, the hills are dotted with construction cranes, minarets and lots of square beige buildings. I’ve never seen such a monochromatic city, but perhaps I’m just not attuned to the variances in shades of white and brown yet. Of course, the ubiquitous McDonalds billboards permeate even the back neighborhoods of Amman and most street signs are in both English and Arabic. I knew I wouldn’t see many trees in the desert regions of the Middle East, but the lack of greenery is jarring, especially for someone used to tree-lined Sheridan Road. The smells of the city are a wonderful mix. Amman is scattered with trash, but sometimes the stink is muted by the heavy, sweet perfume of hookah from sidewalk cafes. The breeze, when it comes, brings a whole bouquet of smells I haven’t yet identified.

A lot of my fears about coming to Amman have been assuaged. Despite the warnings of my doctors and professors, I haven’t gotten sick yet (although I’ve only been here a few days). I packed mainly long skirts and tunics, but the clothing restrictions are much more liberal and varied than I expected. I’ve seen women dressed entirely in black, with only their eyes showing, but I’ve also seen women in tight pants and short sleeves. I see a pretty even mix between veiled and unveiled women, but I’ve also been in a more Westernized part of Amman so far. So long as my knees and shoulders are covered, I should be okay just about anywhere, apparently.

During orientation today I learned about a few interesting cultural differences from a sociologist. In America, eye contact is used to show focus and honesty during a conversation. In Jordan, and many other parts of the world, eye contact should be avoided. Between men and women, eye contact implies a sexual relationship. Making eye contact with someone older or of a higher rank is seen as a challenge to their authority. I think that will be very hard to get used to.

I’m off to study some Arabic and hop into bed. Tomorrow we’ll be exploring the old section of the city. But now that I finally have my suitcase, I feel ready for just about anything.

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