i. love. jordan.

can i just say that the other day in ameiya class we spontaneously sang + performed actions to "i'm a little teapot", including the lambchop "oh darn i'm a teapot" version, and then translated it on the spot? i now have an extremely ridiculous vocab list, which goes chronologically:

teapot

fat

handle

spout (??? there is no word?? i doubt that, professor alia)

shout

pour me out (there is a word for THAT but not for SPOUT? come on, alia).

we live in strange ways.

and my roommate is a sunflower, and she and i spend our time charming all the fahim boys (waiters who bring coal for argeelah) of amman- with our sweet smiles, our generous tips, and the fact that with our magnificent arabic we consistently ask for, instead of the check, either one moment or breakfast.

it is a good afternoon activity. yom yomna shway sakhifa (since the day we were born we were a little ridiculous.)

needless to say they love us.

every day they ask me if i want an english menu, anxious eyebrows if they don't have one, and every day i answer the same:

لا. بسكن هن. لازم اقدر اقراة يسماء الطعم إلي بآكل كل يوم. 

and by how horribly wrong i'm sure that is, you can tell i need to do more studying and less blogging. (it says (badly) "no. i live here, and i need to be able to read the names of the food i eat every day.").

we spend our afternoons in second floor windows, collecting our thoughts and breathing in coals until we're so full of smoke we can't feel it anymore.

and i'm always here trying to memorize all the words i can in this new language, but sometimes the smoke overwhelms me, brings my biggest thoughts to the surface and breathes them out for me unwilling, in swirls and storms and dragons.

i think maybe i think too much. but i think maybe i like it? and i dont think, really, that it could be any other way. haha.