All Good Things...

It's been a pretty relaxing couple of weeks here in the desert. I read a couple of decent books, met people, learned some Arabic words, and generally recuperated from the exhaustion I was dealing with by the end of the English school. By the end of the ~2 weeks I had free, I was getting sick of sitting around home and doing nothing. So, when the Friday the 9th came around I was pretty content to go and meet my coworkers.

In what may be a typical circumstance, plans for a "staff retreat" were shelved at the last minute in favor of a "staff day" which involved a few classic get-to-know-you games and some general explanation of the rules and guidelines for doing my job. I also discovered that everybody at the school has one of the following: A Ph D, a master's, teaching certification, or teaching experience. Oh wait, not everybody, quite; I'm the only person teaching this year without one of the above. This is, I must admit, pretty intimidating. Everybody tells me not to worry, this happens all the time. Well I think I'm going to continue worrying, thank you very much. I work better when I'm nervous than when I'm complacent.

On Saturday, my roomates and I, along with two local guys named Taariq and Ahmed, drove about an hour from Amman to a canyon in some limestone hills near the southern end of the Dead Sea. We packed a picnic lunch and our swim suits and hiked up the canyon for about an hour. It was pretty cool in several senses of the word; the bottom of the canyon only got direct sunlight in places, and not for very long. We found a huge boulder with a waterfall coming over it that more or less filled the whole canyon (maybe 12 feet square). There was a dry space at the bottom of the waterfall which would have been perfect for for eating our lunch and resting. We were 5 young men. Naturally, we spent 20 minutes trying to find a way up the waterfall with all our stuff without getting soaked, and then ate our lunch at the top of the waterfall less than 15m from the otherwise perfect spot. A man has certain principles, after all.

We built a makeshift dam out of rocks to form a pool about 18 inches deep and all just sat there in the water eating food and smoking nargeela (that's what they call it here, but I'd have thought of it as a hookah. It's the only manly way to smoke peach-flavored tobacco, so it's cool with me). It was a good time, and even though I spent the whole day outside, I'm not sunburned. On the hike back down, we built another dam just because the first one wasn't good enough. Some might consider this a waste of time and effort, but they are probably women or Frenchmen. It was IMPORTANT.

So, staff bonding followed by male bonding followed by Christian bonding, and that's my weekend in a nutshell. Starting tomorrow I'll be writing my curriculum for this year with lots of help from Julia, my immediate superior at the school. Please pray for me this week as I head into this uncharted territory and will need help to make it happen. Vacation is over, the grind is beginning.

A Beautiful Juxtaposition

At about 12:30 this morning I left home, and got in a serveece (a kind of taxi). I got out of the serveece at the bottom of a big hill, crossed a teeming marketplace full of the shoutings and shriekings of vendors trying to sell cheap clothes to people who don't need them and can't afford them. I then walked up another hill. I turned down a dusty street and walked past a construction site where a bunch of bronzed, muscular Arab workmen were tinkering with a balky cement mixer (using, I add, what sounded like some pretty unkind language, although I haven't learned any of those words yet).

Proceeding past these normal, everyday sights, and following the directions I'd been given, I went further down the street and went through a nondescript little door into... what can this strange place be?

A dizzying kaleidoscope of horribly clashing overstuffed furniture is scattered haphazardly on a concrete floor. In the middle of the floor, a small circular bar boasts Jose Cuervo, Chivas Regal, Bacardi, Jim Beam (remember, alcohol is very rare here), and perhaps every coffee variation ever devised by the mind of man. Hanging above the bar is, of all things, a disco ball that must be a yard across. But it's not spinning, it's just kind of hanging there. By the bar a shaven-headed goateed guy in a t-shirt and baggy jeans is putting the moves on a slim pale dark-haired lady in tight leather pants, occasionally stopping to wave away the thick cloud of cigarrette smoke that threatens to obscure his vision. His Iberian-flavored English blends into a murmur of conversation in at least four languages, while throbbing trance music creates a pleasant level of soothing white noise. On a couch to my right, a group of college-aged girls in colorful tank tops chatter happily over their forgotten textbooks. Off in shadowy corner, a white guy with a scraggly chin beard and earrings is furiously typing away on a battered old Gateway notebook, pausing occasionally to sip from his iced cappucino.

10 seconds ago I was in Amman. Jordan. Middle East. How on Earth did I suddenly get transported to Uptown?

It's called Books Cafe. A sign out front (I swear I'm not making this up) proclaims it "Fresh as a Daisy!" In the basement there's a bookstore, and though the prices are outrageous ($15 for a used paperback) I'm thrilled. It's the first bookstore I've been able to find since I arrived.

So, my morale is high. There is a staff retreat for Whitman Academy that starts on the 9th. Classes actually start on the 2oth. Until then I'm on vacation, and I intend to make the most of it. At this moment, I am at peace.

I think victory is sort of mine?

So, this is where I live. The view is from Jebel Ashrafieya, from a home we visited a few weeks ago (the photo is courtesy of Rachel. Thanks!) A few points of interest: the flagpole in the center near the horizon is actually the world's tallest free-standing flagpole, so they tell me. In front of it and slightly to the left is what they call the Citadel, which are ruins from an ancient Roman temple to Hercules. There is also an antiquities museum there.

The view on the left is from the Citadel and looks back at Ashrafieya, in a neat bit of Artistic Symmetry (tm). At the top of the hill is the famous Abu Darwish mosque, which we non-Arabic-speakers are prone to call the Black and White mosque. This is because some parts of it are black and all the other parts are white. We non-Arabic-speakers believe in expressive names, but not creative ones. In a side note, the buildings are mostly a similar color because, for the past several years, a law has been in effect which requires all new buildings to be fronted (the term in this case includes the sides, the back, and the top, but for some reason you don't say "outsided") with white stone. It's a nice shade, and also keeps the inside of the building cooler (these are advantages I have noticed, I don't know why they made the law though).

On the right are some of the people I've been working with an associating with over the past few weeks. From the left, we have Khalil, pastor of the church where the event was held. Next to him is Steven, my current (though not for much longer) neighbor across the street. In front of him is his oldest, Matthew. To Steven's right is 'Amr, who helps out at the church. Reti and me you know. In the pink shirt is 'Abeer, the principal and general troubleshooter for the school. Wearing sunglasses is Jess, co-teacher, whom you may remember from a previous photo. Behind her, lurking malevolently in the shadows (or something) is Jane, Steven's wife, who was responsible for most of the materials we used to teach. She was an invaluable resource since she is actually a trained teacher and was endlessly patient with us miserable amateurs. The 2 (wykkid cute) kids are Nathan and Ruth, her other 2 kids. Between them is Rachel, co-teacher and the genius behind the first photo in this post. Khalil's wife, Randa, is not in the picture, but she also deserves mention for all her help during the week, as well as for the fact that it is her passion and vision (and remarkable synergy with Reti) that made this event take place for the first time last year and continue this year.

Not only is this an excellent photo of my co-teachers and our hostess for lunch one day, it is also a good example of what I've been eating here. Mansaf consists of a gigantic pile of rice with some chicken or lamb on top, frequently cooked with nuts or spices or both. With it comes a peculiar kind of yogurt sauce, kinda gluey and milky. Traditionally, one transfers a plate-sized pile of rice to one's plate, throws some meat on top of same, drenches it liberally with the sauce, and then molds it into little balls which are then eaten with the fingers. Our hostess in this case graciously spared our western sensibilities by providing us with forks. It's actually very good, although I didn't go as nuts with the sauce as I was apparently expected to (I'm not sure I agree it's the "best part"). Anyway, a lot of food in this part of the world fits the general description of a bunch of rice with a bunch of meat on it. This is fine with me; the key words here are "a bunch." I defy anybody to leave a meal in an Arab home and still be hungry. Can't be done.



Finally, here is a photo of most of the kids in my class (the ones who showed up on the last day, that is). On the left in the purple shirt is Farah (joy) one of my helpers, he has a kid on his shoulder. My other two helpers are Nour (bottom right, tan shirt) and Um Bishara (next to her, horizontal stripes). Props to these people, they made the whole thing work. In front of Farah in the light-blue shirt is Muna, easily the most brilliant and well-behaved student in the class. In the middle of week 2 she brought her tape recorder to class with a Mariah Carey tape in it, and taking me aside during the break she did a sort of impromptu karaoke with the song "Hero." It was adorable, I misted. In the middle, looking happy in his favorite lime-green shirt, is Basiel, who is ALMOST smart enough to make up for all the trouble he causes =/. Next to him in red is Nader, who quoted all 12 memory verses back to me on the last day. 2 kids over, also in green, is Kristeen, who basically knows every answer but is terrified to raise her hand (I eventually learned to call on her at least once per day regardless). Wow. I live right by all these kids and I miss them already.

Well this got longer than I meant it to, but hopefully you have a better visual idea what's going on with me these days. I'll try and post some more as time and money permit. If there's anything specific you'd like to see, I probably have a picture of it, so shoot me an email or comment here and we'll see what we can do.

Out of the nest and flapping hard

I'm writing this from an internet cafe in a place called Shmeisani (shmay-sah-nee), which is a neighborhood in Amman. This is significant in two ways. The first way is that Shmeisani is not Ashrafieya. This means I had to get in a taxi, tell him where to go, stop him when he got here, and pay him. I have never done any of these things on my own before, much less all of them, so just being here represents a fairly significant accomplishment for me. (I should admit here that i was very motivated, as there is a KFC in Shmeisani).

The second significance is that this is a high-speed web cafe, meaning that as often as I want to come back here, I can post photos with ease and speed. The trade-off is that it costs over a JD ($1.75ish) to get here, and internet is also more expensive, so don't expect everyday photos just yet. But it's at least feasible, unlike in Ashrafieya, so you might maybe see some photos possibly kind of soonish. How's that for non-commital?

The vacation in Aqaba was great, although getting there was a 4-hour bus ride through some seriously hilly terrain and I was noticeably green by the time we made it. Once we arrived, however, we moved into a pretty nice hotel (even though their pool was closed, about which they lied to us when we made our reservations) and let the relaxation commence. Lemme tell ya, it was some pretty intense relaxation: snorkeling and shopping and sleeping and playing Uno by the (nonfunctional, rawr) pool.

We were there 1 night, and left Aqaba at 4 to arrive back in Ashrafieya in time to go to dinner and then go to sleep. In the morning, after dealing with some unforeseen travel difficulties, we set out on a day trip to see the Baptism Site (of Jesus), Mount Nebo (cf Deuteronomy 34), and the Dead Sea. All were interesting for different reasons, but my favorite was the Dead Sea. I have pictures (sadly, not with me atm) of me upright in the water, not standing on anything and not moving at all, but still only sinking up to my sternum- creepy! The view from Mount Nebo was spectacular despite a slight fog. I had fun thinking about how God might have designed the whole region with that moment in mind, where he was going to show Moses the whole promised land from one spot. It's easy to read that passage and think it's being poetic or metaphorical, but you really can see an awfully awfully long way from up there.

So now I have to begin living my own life, as the days of scheduled activities and rigid time tables are over. I'll hopefully be moving sooner than later, but for now I'm just going to enjoy a couple of weeks without responsibilities or worries.

Thanks to everybody who's commented or responded to my previous posts. Please keep the messages coming, it's great to hear from home!

Synopsis (tm)

English school is over. I am going to try to tell you what it was like, but be warned: such experiences do not lend themselves easily to expression in words.

The actual events are easy enough to describe. Each day, I would arrive at the church at 8:30ish, and do some last-minute preparation for the day. At 9:00, the kids (mostly waiting outside by this time) would be let into the building, proceeding to the church's main sanctuary. After the chatter and scuffling, inevitable when you move ~140 kids in a mass from one place to another, had died down, there would be a half-hour assembly. This typically included children's praise songs in English, Arabic, or both, Simon says (extremely popular!), announcements, prayers by kids and/or leaders, games, etc. The kids would then be dismissed by class; Rachel's ~40 4-5's, Becky's ~40 6-7's, Jess's ~30 8-9's and my ~35 10-12's bringing up the rear.

I'd usually leave with the Rachel's class so I could get into my classroom before the kids could. Once they arrived, got their nametags, and got settled down, I'd tell a Bible story using some pictures provided with the curriculum. All the stories were from the life of Jesus, starting with his birth, proceeding through a series of miracles and parables, and finishing with "death and resurrection" and "ascension/Jesus will return" on the last two days. I'd pick a memory verse from the story, and occasionally a craft. After this was over (it's about 10:15 by now if you're keeping track) the English lesson would begin, and continue until noon (interrupted by a half-hour break from 10:30-11). Some topics covered included past progressive tense, expressions of time and duration, adverbs of frequency, etc.

When the bell mercifully rang at noon, the kids would pour out of the church, chattering excitedly and clutching whatever we'd given them to take home (crafts, worksheets, etc.) and my 3 local helpers and I would discuss what was going to happen the following day. We'd clean up any drastic messes or possibly replace the furniture if the room were going to be used that evening. This being done (about 1:00 or 1:30), we'd proceed into another classroom for an all-school staff meeting, the purpose of which was to pray a lot and to deal with any serious issues that took place during the day.

After this, the local helpers would go home and my fellow teachers and I would go to the house of a local woman (frequently the mother of a student or helper) for lunch. We'd generally arrive home from lunch between 3:30 and 4, and try for a nap or prep for the following day's lesson, depending on whether we felt more behind on preparation or on sleep. Some nights there were dinner invitations (about 2 hours at various times), always there was a group devotion, and in the background lurked the significant prep time required to make the next lesson work properly. Of free time there was none until 11:00, when I had to leave the place where the girls were staying and go back to my own digs. I'd typically stop by the webcafe up the street, shoot off a few emails, and then go home and collapse into bed for personal devotions and sleep.

The paragraphs I've just written describe the past 3 weeks about as completely as the few words on your business card describe you as a person. How can I describe the nerve-shattering strain? What can I say to convey to you the whiplashing transition from sudden, overwhelming joy to miserable, crushing despair and back again? I felt, lived, experienced nothing "slightly" or "marginally" during these weeks; it was an experience that warrants no qualifiers. I saw, in a way more graphic and real than any in my experience, the overwhelming might and majesty of Almighty God clash with the vengeful, bitter, seething malice of the evil one, and I saw it from ground zero.

"Melodrama!" I hear you say, "he's high on the experience, he's suffering from culture shock, he's exaggerating to make himself seem more important!" Well maybe, although if you know me you know I'm not the sort that's typically susceptible to that kind of thing. But here are some facts. This month I've seen lifelong best friends (multiple sets! I watched 2 examples and heard about others) get in serious, relationship-threatening fights for ridiculously trivial reasons. But I also saw a group of people who'd never met before, of different cultures and continents and backgrounds and personalities, come together and accomplish a common goal in the face of significant adversity. I watched several children sit scowling with arms folded, refusing to learn "nothing is impossible with God," but then 3 days later I listened to them quote "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength, and love your neighbor as yourself" with smiles on their faces. A fellow teacher ran out of class crying because the first half of the day had gone so badly. She cried through the whole break until somebody suggested praying, which we did, and then she sort of squared her shoulders and went back out there to do her darndest. An hour later, she couldn't stop smiling; the second hour had been "wonderful."

All of that is externally verifiable. It doesn't even touch on what went on in me during this time. I always seemed to turn to just the right verse, or somebody always seemed to come up to me and say just the right thing, or the solution to the problem always seemed to be easily available and why didn't I think of that before? I was constantly exhausted (physically, mentally, emotionally, take your pick) but I never quite collapsed in any of those ways. And my time with God felt more intimate and meaningful, my prayers more "powerful and effective," and the Word more "living and active" than at at any other time I can immediately recall.

Tomorrow we are going on vacation to the resort town of Aqaba. I need it. But I can go praising God, knowing that seeds have been planted and watered and the kingdom has been served and my responsibilities have been satisfactorily discharged. I know all this, and at the same time I know my own inadequacies and (to some degree) those of my colleagues and helpers. It doesn't add up. The input I saw doesn't begin to explain the result. I'm left with no room to doubt that the only way I/we could have possibly made it is divine grace.

Well, that's the best I can do. Words fail to describe such things. Thank you all for your prayers, thoughts, emails, and whatever else I've gotten from home. It worked. It helped. Don't stop.

Yes, that's right, I have FINALLY succeeded in uploading a photo! I'll try to upload more as often as I can, but this one actually took nine minutes to do, so it might not be all that frequent until I find a way to access a DSL line or something. Anyway, from left to right we have me, our teaching coordinator Reti, and my three colleagues Rachel, Becky, and Jess. The photo is taken in a Pizza Hut in Amman.

So that's who I'm working with, and exchanging quips and mockery with, etc. You'll note that they're all female. I'm sort of drowning in estrogen a bit here, and feeling the lack of males in whom I can confide. These ladies are great, and they do their best to be helpful and mutually supportive, and their best is pretty darn good. However, they are female.

We're on the home stretch with the English School, with only 3 days to go. My class is preparing a skit to show on graduation day (Friday) of the story of the Good Samaritan. Should be fun. I'm glad the thing is almost over though, I'm worn out and my body feels slightly like it's about to collapse.

I've seen some pretty cool stuff while I've been here. Most recently, we just went to Petra this past weekend. This, as elated Jordanians never tire of telling me, has just been voted the second wonder of the world, and it deserves it. I'll post some photos when I can (I know, I know, you're sick of hearing it). However, if you google it, you can probably see some taken by professionals. If you want to take my word for it, though, that's fine. The place is awesome. If you get the chance, make it there before you die.

I miss you all.

Hmm. New Mercies Again This Morning.

Whoever's been praying, it's working! Keep it up please.

A lot of things happened today which have boosted my morale rather considerably.

First, class went well. The kids were excited when the plan called for them to be excited and attentive when the plan called for them be attentive, and so on.

Second, our hosts and fellow guests for lunch today were much more fluent in English than I've become used to. It made a huge difference to me to be able to converse, rather than parse everything out word by word or wait for somebody to translate. Picked up some useful A

Third, I got a good, solid 2-hour nap this afternoon. If you've ever been as tired as I currently am, you'll know what a difference this can make.

Fourth, after my nap I didn't have to go to dinner anywhere. Just chilled in the place where the other teachers are staying and prepped for the lesson, sang some songs, ate some food- in a word, relaxed.

Fifth, I found a can of Mountain Dew, and drank it. I must remember to do this more often. It helped.

Insight of the day: Yesterday I was reading in Psalms, where I frequently go when I'm down or distressed in some way. I skimmed several Psalms which begin with bad moods, and I eventually landed on Psalm 27. It starts in a way that was a lot like I felt yesterday: "To you I call, O LORD my Rock; do not turn a deaf ear to me. For if you remain silent, I will be like those who have gone down to the pit. Hear my cry for mercy as I call to you for help, as I lift up my hands toward your Most Holy Place."

It continues in this vein for a couple more verses, but then between the end of verse 5 and the beginning of verse 6, something drastic happens: "Praise be to the LORD, for he has heard my cry for mercy. The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song."

Crucial point: What I don't see here is any indication that all of the psalmist's problems have been solved. Rather, he is so full of faith and trust that the simple act of laying his problems before God is a huge relief, enough to take him in a moment from a "cry for mercy" to "my heart leaps for joy." I aspire to this, and I hope that as you read, you'll take a moment to pray for me that I can trust God like that- so much that once I cast all my cares upon Him, I can let them go and get back to being joyful in the Lord.

Interestingly, as I look back over my previous post, basically everything in it still applies. And yet I'm better now. I can't come up with a natural explanation for this, can you?

Can I Have A Little Cheese With My Whine?

I am stressed. I'm tired but I don't have time to sleep, I'm underprepared but I don't have time to prepare better, I am overstimulated but I don't have time to be alone and clean all the junk out of my soul. The most relaxed I ever get (this is why I am here right now instead of doing the other things I mentioned) is reading an email or message from home. I have to keep it short, though, because I have YET ANOTHER dinner engagement shortly.

Yes, I understand all the reasons that it is necessary to accept people's invitations. That, and I do enjoy the conversation, the food (!!!) and the fact that people are so happy to see me and try out their few words of English on me. I love people, and these people love me, and in any other circumstances I'd be thrilled to meet new people, share their homes and opinions and hopes and dreams. Most important of all, I'm here to bless people, and this is an important part of that. I realize this, so my intent is not to complain about it.

However, none of what I've just said changes the fact that all of this takes energy, or the fact that energy is currently in short supply. Planning, lunch, dinner, actual teaching, weekend trips... I'm not sure how long I can maintain such a pace. "As long as God gives me grace, which is as long as I need it" is, of course, the correct answer. I am working on clinging to this. The thing is, while I intellectually understand how important lunch is to people, instinctively I consider it much less significant. So, my body is shouting at me for not doing a (very normal, back home) "hey, I'm exhausted and I have a lot on my plate for this week, mind if we skip it for today" kind of thing. In my current attenuated state, what would normally be a welcome and even delightful privilege has become a heavy burden.

I'm stretched really thin right now, and all of these responsibilities are getting more intense, rather than less. Please pray hard for me in the next two weeks, that God will show me the correct balance between the kind of sacrificial love that Jesus always showed, and his equally well-developed sense of when to "withdraw to lonely places." And pray above all else that no matter how tired/irritated/depressed/whatever I get, I won't inflict my bad moods on the people I'm supposed to be ministering to (including kids, dinner hosts or hostesses, my colleagues/helpers, or anybody really). There's no excuse for that.

Now I Have Time To Exhale

Well, week 1 of the English School is in the books. Like everything else, it was simultaneously easier and harder than I expected it to be. For one thing, they told me (and I told you) to expect ~40-60 kids, and I ended up with 23. This is nice, although please pray for the other teachers; despite the fact that my numbers are so low, we have nearly reached our target of 150 kids! You math buffs will quickly realize that if I've only got 23 of those, the other classes are huge, which is a tall order for my colleagues.

Fortunately, our local help, generally volunteers drawn from the membership of the Church where the school is being held, has been absolutely superb. They're helping us keep order and discipline and providing a lot of valuable insight about how best to motivate and teach the kids. As usual, the whole (in my class, at least, and the others have said the same) is much greater than the sum of the individual parts. It's almost like wherever 2 or 3 of us gather, Somebody else shows up in the midst of us :).

God has been good, providing me both with lots of ideas for how to teach, and the energy (mine and other people's) to carry the ideas out. The kids are getting the English, and the rest it seems. Some of the seed, I'm sure, is falling on rock, thorns, etc; please pray for a lot of good soil, and for those promised 30, 60, and 100-fold yields.

My fellow teachers are great ladies. The 3 of them are from various widely dispersed (by their standards) areas of Britain. I've spent great times getting to know their stories, as well as their accents. On the latter topic there is much hilarity, lemme tell ya. Who knew that prounouncing "herb" with a silent h was so bizarre? Our Teaching Coordinator is amazingly well qualified for the job, and can get as many ducks in as neat a row as anybody I've met. She's also got a huge heart and a burning passion for people that just rolls off her in waves on to everyone she meets or (especially) everyone she works with. Together, we make a very cohesive and comfortable whole. Many of my fears of loneliness and isolation were unfounded, thanks to the relationship lubricant that is the One who transcends language, culture, and even pronunciation of h's.

I'm still homesick, however. If you're reading this, I've thought of you and missed you personally since I've been here. Guaranteed. Right now, especially, I'm feeling every one of the miles that separate me from everything familiar.

Spent the weekend touring two different Roman ruins (Jerash and Um Qais) and riding buses to and from there. I'm quite ridiculously sunburned, but it was a great relief to just put aside responsibility while I wandered around explaining (well, ok, rambling on and on about) things of interest in a town 2000 years old or more.

Prayer requests: I'm tired, and getting tireder, even though we have a long weekend this week. 20 kids > Silas on the energy-o-meter. Please pray for divine help and strength, and the wisdom to manage my time properly amid an endless list of dinner invitations, lesson preps, group devotions, personal devotions, laundry, shopping, tourism, etc etc etc. Pray especially that I would recognize my limitations and realize when I need to take a break; this has been a struggle. There's so much to do!

Praises: Amazing helpers, wonderful helpful fellow teachers, a great coordinator, and incredible acceptance and hospitality on the part of everybody I've met. I have found hostility toward my nation here, but never once toward me personally, unless you count the fact that everybody I visit seems to want me to die from overeating... you DO NOT refuse second helpings in this town. Praise also that God has really planted his flag firmly in the middle of my heart, and replaced my normal instincts with the correct one: whenever I have a problem, the first thing I do is cry to him for help. It's easy to trust here; after all, what other choice do I have?

Grace and peace. I've enabled comments on this post (just figured out how, actually) so if you want to comment, that would be awesome.

The calm before the storm

So, the last few days have been packed completely full of fun things. The other English teachers are all here, and we've been gallivanting around Amman, checking things out. I've taken over 100 photos but STILL CANNOT GET THEM TO POST! I have learned a new word to use in situations like this: Haram! Literal translation is something like "Shame" or "disgrace" but it's generally used as an epithet against anything that annoys you. And this does. Massively. Rawr.

But, that aside, I've had tons of fun. Things I've seen included another trip to the Balad, a trip to Mecca Mall, which was like a little slice of M0A transplanted into Amman, and a drive up to the top of one of Amman's other hills to "the citadel," an ancient Roman/Umayyad site with a museum and a really stunning view of the city. Sure wish I could post some of my pictures. Grar.

Ironically, I've eaten quite a bit of American food (Pizza Hut, Popeye's, Burger King, and so on) over the past few days. Reti, who's recommending most of these places, says it's because we'll be eating lunch at a different person's home each day throughout the English program, and that will be mostly Arabic food. Whatever, I wasn't complaining.

Anyway, the title of this post is because tomorrow it all goes down. English classes start at 9, meaning that registration starts at 8:30, meaning that I have to haul my carcass out of bed and up the (steep!) hill to the church at 8 in the morning. Shouldn't be much of a problem though, I doubt I'll be sleeping well. I'm quite nervous. Well prepared, well supplied with materials, watched over by the ruler of the universe and endowed by him with some very relevant gifts, but still nervous. Funny the tricks responsibility can play on your mind and faith.

Please, if you talk to said ruler, mention me. I'll probably have ~40-60 kids in my class, and I want to make sure each one of them learns, grows, and has fun. A tall order, and not one I can remotely handle on my own.

Much love to all, I miss you!