This and that

In my last entry, I wanted to talk about random things about my life here in Wadi Rum. But somehow my blogs end up with some kind of theme and I didn’t want to ruin it by changing subjects mid way. So this will be an attempt to write down some details that have no theme.
I sleep in two different places. Either I am staying in the hostel room in the village or in the Bedouin tent at the desert camp. Neither have any heat and it gets pretty cold at night. I’ve stayed about half here and half there. The last three nights have been in the desert. We sleep on thin mattresses on the sand with three 10 pound quilts on top of us. The quilts are pretty dirty and dusty, despite the daily shakings. I sleep in my clothes - jacket, scarf, hat and all. There is absolutely no sound during the night. It’s a good sleep.
At the hostel, the mattress is the same and the blankets the same. The room is made of cinderblocks painted cream and brown. All our stuff is in there. There is a 6 inch gap under the door and the house cat, which we call Love Kitty, always slips in and sleeps in our covers. We wake up to either the camel roaring because she is being milked at 6, or the Mosque prayer at about 7. On Monday morning, the boy’s military school broadcasts a very loud recording of a man’s voice and it lasts a long time, plus it’s at 5:30! The bathrooms are holes in the ground. This doesn’t bother me and it’s actually more sanitary than toilet seats, but the whole neighborhood uses the bathroom and the kids make it gross. I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to it and I can’t wait to get back to my own bathroom. At the camp it’s not so bad. Abu Ayman keeps the camp clean and the tourists are sophisticated enough to be careful.
I make tea for guests. I’ve learned to make it sweet like the Jordanians like it and serve it in little glass cups on a tray. The weird part is that I always have to disappear into the forbidden women’s part of the house to get the tea. It makes me feel like I’m going into the safe of a bank and I am privileged enough to have the combo. I should correct myself. I feel this way when I am serving the tourists, but when I am serving tea to a roomful of Bedouin men, I feel like I’m living back in the old days, if you know what I mean. The men are always very polite and smile and say thank you, though, so don’t think they are rude. The difference is that with the men, they expect a woman to do this and I don’t like unfair rules.
I wash my clothes by hand in the sink and dry them outside my room. The water is always reddish brown and I have to wash 4 or 5 times. My jeans now stand up on their own. They feel like cardboard. I like washing my stuff though. I have a pretty strong nesting instinct, despite my gypsy blood. It makes me feel like I am home.
Bailey and Eptisam are at the house computer right now next to me. Bailey is asking her many questions about being a Muslim teenage girl and they are using Google translator to ask and answer. I think Bailey will have an interesting blog entry quite soon! Make sure to check it out.
Thanks to all my blog visitors. So many people have visited and I just don’t have that many friends and family. If you get a chance, please write a little hello. I’m curious about you! Mar Salam (Goodbye in Arabic).