The road home: Amman

“The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” 
― Maya Angelou

The end of our path.
The end of our path.

Something about travel abroad stirs in us a restlessness, quenching that desire to place one foot continually in front of the other. The unknown places perpetually before us serve as a proxy for self-discovery, or perhaps a catalyst for it. The instability of our existence while in foreign lands, unable to speak the language and unsure of our trajectory, does not allow us to withdraw to the comfort of familiarity or routine. This constant uncertainty is both enlightening and exhausting. And so, at the end of a month of exploration, we were ready to go home.

We boarded the bus in Nazareth, bound for Amman, Jordan. When I booked our flights in October, it was for some reason much less expensive to fly into Cairo and out of Amman than any other combination of flights to and from Cairo/Amman/Tel Aviv (the three major airports in the region of our intended travels). We were tired, and I for one was more than a little cranky. Continue reading


Taxi Man and cave dwelling: Petra

Ben in the Siq leading to Petra

Let me begin this story with its moral, so I can open this post with something positive.

We can (and should) all be kinder to guests.

Jordan taught us this lesson in two very different ways.

We arrived in the country across the land border from the Israeli Red Sea town of Eilat. As soon as we stepped foot outside passport control, we were approached by a man — an “organizer” — who said he worked for the government, and his job was to organize a taxi for us from amongst the numerous green vehicles in the parking lot. The conversation went as follows:

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