Floating around

Living abroad like this is a bit like floating out in the open sea. I’ve taken myself away from all that is familiar and mine and every day I feel like I’m floating around wherever the wind takes me. I don’t really have a say about how my days will unfold. The last couple of days, Bailey and I were able to go out on tours with some visitors, but only after getting about a 5 minute notice in which we scrambled to get our overnight things ready and fill up a bottle of water. The weather today is cold and overcast, so we are staying in with the family, helping clean and eating split pea soup. But in a few minutes, I may be on my way out to the camp or helping escort camels out to the desert to pick up tourists. I try to stay open to any opportunities for adventure, even if I’m tired.

The past 5 months in Provence were a strange mixture of discovery and hermitdom. We went on a lot of day trips to historic villages, museums, the sea and the mountains. But we hardly met anyone. Maybe it was me, but I felt that the French people were pretty closed to strangers on their home turf. Many of them would not return a hello or a smile while passing each other, let alone start a conversation. So Bailey and I ended up spending a lot of time talking to each other or not at all. This was OK for some self reflection, but the tide turned in Florence. During our trip there we were much more open and desirous of meeting people. I felt us turn that night on the Ponte Vecchio, the day we found our car burned to the ground. Time dropped away and all of my senses sharpened. We sat on the bridge in non-thought and I felt myself come out of inside my head. I watched the people on the bridge, the 2 man band playing Italian ballads, people riding by on their bicycles, the lights reflected on the Arno river. I felt the breeze more fully and I smelled the humid winter air as if it were an extension of me. I knew that evening that I was changing.

I didn’t know to what degree our lives would change, of course. It was only a week later that we decided to come here to Jordan and live with the Bedouins in Wadi Rum. Most of our evenings have been spent up at the camp, eating Abu Ayman’s delicious dinners, meeting people from all over the world, dancing and laughing. I wouldn’t say that I am outside of myself as much as more a part of my surroundings. Everyone sits on mats around a fire in the round tent. We’re all in the same boat. We’re all travelers interested in each other. It’s very easy to feel inspired, and it’s easy to feel comfortable with other people who also haven’t showered in 4 days! Back at the house, there are kids around, familiar faces on the street all the time, and us help-exchangers. There have been a few moments when I’ve felt like I was back in that reclusive place. Once or twice on some cold nights when Bailey and I were trying to get to sleep, cocooned in our sleeping bags, and we were talking quietly face to face. I felt like we’d come home to our little family place, even if it was nowhere near home. Eating at Burger King in Aqaba and then riding the minibus home felt like old times. But I like this new phase right now. I’m normally ill at ease in social situations, feeling like an outsider. But here, I’m an insider and an outsider and I’ve found a balance between the two. I’m learning how to live with a lot of people around, letting myself look tired if I am or happy or hungry. Whatever. This is what makes living with others interesting. I’m feeling good about myself, finally, enough not to care too much about people’s judgements of me. I’m starting to know myself more and see that I can be strong at times, especially when it comes to letting this wind just blow me around.