Well, I’m back in Amman, Jordan and I have to admit it feels surreal. I still cannot believe that I am physically here in my hometown surrounded by familiar faces and sounds. The 12-hour direct flight from New York to Amman was smooth although I could not sleep thanks to the continuous yelling and screaming of the bazillions of children who were on the plane.
As soon as I arrived at Queen Alia Airport, I got into my usual ritual: Jumping into intense arguments with those that smoke and exhale right in front of my face while awaiting luggage to show up. This time, though, the argument was more heated than usual, as one man accused me of being "too American" and trying to impose rules on him similar to those he just ran away from. He said he was someone who couldn’t wait to come back to Jordan so he can break rules and be happy. Makes sense!
One quick question: Is there any airport left in the world besides Queen Alia where people can still smoke freely and get away with it? I’m just wondering!
I got over this incident quickly as soon as I saw my family at the airport. At that moment, nothing else mattered. When I got home, I was greeted by a marvelous feast of all my favorite dishes: Stuffed zucchini and grape leaves, Ouzeh, stuffed potatoes and others. Life is sweet!