My flight from New York to Amman took 10 1/2 hours. The plane was far from full, so there was plenty of room to stretch out, but I still didn’t fall asleep. The night went through stages, with the usual share of families going home, cranky kids, young singles. The woman in front of me – a Palestinian born in Jordan, living in Florida for the past 15 years and now going home to visit family – was downing Delta’s wine, aiming to sleep for the whole trip but becoming super-friendly along the way with everyone in earshot. The flight attendants worked fairly leisurely; the one who was Lebanese – a man – did the translations into Arabic of the flight crew’s announcements.
When the dog barked — at least I think it was a dog — I gave up trying to sleep and spent most of the rest of the trip reading my Lonely Planet tour book and reviewing yet again the bits of Arabic I’ve learned and lost so many times before. I spent the past month and a half going through Rosetta Stone Arabic lessons and then reviewed the book I used when I took an adult education class a few years ago. Between that, and the grammar I learned back in college, what I know today is a disconnected morass. I catch more words now when I overhear conversations than I did two years ago, but I can’t speak much. I can, however, read the alphabet when it’s not embellished, and I understand more words than in the past. If I could live with people for a while who didn’t speak English I think I’d forge ahead, but otherwise my memory is much too porous to hold on to much. Arabic’s complexities – mainly the departure of the many disparate dialects from the more formal structure I internalized 40 years ago – add to my frustrations.
Aside from the usual memory lapses of many people my age — I’ll be 60 in March, an age I no longer think of as ancient — my own situation is complicated by my underlying medical issues. My multiple sclerosis remains at the least troubling end of the spectrum, and hasn’t worsened since my diagnosis 14 years ago. I still have no motor problems, and function more or less the same as most people. But memory remains fluid, multi-tasking impossible, and fatigue fairly constant. My fatigue medication – Provigil – does wonders under my ordinarily non-strenuous existence, making it possible to go through the day more or less functional. But this trip, like most, is a pretty big departure from ordinary, and I’m trying not to push myself more than what I think my limits are. So I walk in the morning, retreat and rest and write in the afternoon, then venture out once more.
Jet lag doesn’t help. I thought I was over it last night, but woke about 4 am today, an hour before the nearby mosque’s early call to prayer would have woken me up anyway. It was actually pleasant lying there in the dark, listening to the melodic chanting on and off for 45 minutes, wondering how long I’d go today before crashing.
On my uphill walk this morning, the hot morning sun already making me wonder if I’d lost sight of my limits, the endless stream of taxis honking for my business were hard to resist. But I wanted to walk, knowing I’d miss too much in speeding traffic. I planned to take a taxi back downtown after the coffee I hoped to find in Abdoun Circle, but was determined to wait until then.
Between the heat, the jet-lag, and my usual fatigue and increasing sense of dysfunction, since arriving here three days ago I’ve been often out of sorts. I had a brief spell of stomach queasiness, and think I got dehydrated despite constantly drinking bottled water, but in general I’ve been eating very little even though what I’ve had has mostly been great. But being here on my own at the end of a difficult period back in the States sometimes makes my mind wander. Venturing out in my hot-weather clothing (but not shorts, in keeping with local custom), I think I must look and act pretty strange. The term “queer old duck” comes to mind, when “queer” had a different meaning.
Walking around, I always have my camera, but I hesitate to use it when it feels too conspicuous, too intrusive. The camera pries, attracting suspicion, or at least stares. So I proceed inconsistently, walking down the street with camera in one hand, tour book and water bottle in the other, looking at what there is to see. Walking up hills that I suspect most people don’t attempt, sometimes through residential neighborhoods where I stick out even more, adds to my sense of out-of-placeness. I would do better if I was comfortable with strangers more easily, if I could to glares more comfortably. But I forge on as best I can.
Tomorrow morning I get on the bus to Israel, moving around more than I’d like for the next week but ending up a week from today in Ramallah for the conference that was supposed to be in Gaza. Not getting into Gaza is disappointing, but I’m looking forward to settling in someplace in Ramallah for about three weeks, unpacking my things — I hate living out of suitcases, always packing and re-packing, never able to remember where things are (that memory/organizational dysfunction at its worst). I’ll make short trips out of Ramallah, around the West Bank, to Jerusalem, maybe further — but I won’t have to bring all my stuff.
Or at least that’s the plan, which depends partly on finding a cheap place to stay and partly on whatever else comes along. If it works out, maybe I’ll find a short-term Arabic tutor – someone who doesn’t speak English would be good, though I doubt that will be easy.
Right now I’m back in my hotel lobby, cooler and more comfortable than my room. But soon I need to start (re)packing for my trip in the morning, and figure out where to find a taxi to take me to the bus — it leaves from someplace far west of downtown. By this time tomorrow I should be settled in my Nazareth digs for a night, or maybe two. The weather forecast is for 90 degrees Fahrenheit, way past my limit. A drag.
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I went to log in to the hotel’s Internet access (no wifi here) but all I got was a screen saying the hotel hadn’t paid its DSL bill. The staff says it should be back online soon. In the meantime I walked a few blocks to Welcome Internet, a place I used a couple of days ago. They had to twist their ethernet cable so it would work when connected to my laptop, and so far it’s holding.
