I started my great day by going with a friend to Souq Al-Jara, a small "market" on Rainbow Street that runs for about a week in the springtime. I had an enjoyable time going along the few stalls; there wasn't, however, much that I was interested in buying - and there weren't many stalls or great diversity in wares.
There were several other program students, there, and I did enjoy myself. Finally, they all went their several ways, and I went down town, with the idea of eating some lunch at Hashem's and doing a bit more souvenir shopping.
I forgot, somehow, that it was Friday. First, Hashem's was absolutely packed; so, not wanting to wait there, I proceeded on down town. I then realized that it would be much more difficult for me to get a good price, looking as I did: large sunglasses, flowing sweater, jeans, and battered shoes. I was "welcomed" to many shops, but didn't want to bother do much looking, realizing there would probably be at least a 20% increase in price.
Surprised by the number of police around, I remembered that, oh, yes, it's Friday. Yeah, didn't the program director text us not to go around this mosque today because of possible protests? Yes, that might explain the heavy police presence - and all these busses that are filled with them - and the lack of any traffic in the area. Oh, and yes, I'm passing by one of Amman's mosques. Oh, my, yes, I am just walking across the front courtyard area as the Friday address is going on. Yes, I think it might be a good idea to curtail my shopping. Now, where is a bus?
Just as I wished for a bus, there one appeared. I flagged the driver and forced my way on - it was crowded beyond what I had ever seen before. I ended getting a seat beside a rather large Jordanian man who was, apparently, from the states - from his accent, I would place him south of the Mason Dixon line, but well educated. Supposing me to be an American tourist, he explained that all the men on the bus (I was one of three females among the 50 men or so) were workers returning home after shopping on their weekend morning. He further elucidated that the bus driver was packing them on so tightly because, due to Friday prayers, there wouldn't be another bus for several hours. He was rather talkative, but polite. The bus lurched through the narrow, tortuous streets - and then came to a sudden halt. There was a hubbub. The man beside me explained there had been a car accident: the bus had swiped a car sloppily parked too far into the street. We waited there for a good bit and then the bus moved slowly forward. I had hope that the bus would not be waiting there for a long time - until it stopped and my seatmate explained that they had just moved to wait for the police. Just then, another bus of the same number passed by, and I was able to hop on. It took me to the 6th circle, just before which I hopped off, thinking I could take a short cut.
Never, ever think you can take a short cut - not when you have my talents of getting lost. I walked and walked. And then it began to rain. Heavily. I huddled under some shrubbery, wishing for a bus or a taxi or a kind-hearted driver. There were none. Finally gathering my courage, I walked on, drenched by the heavy rain.
I continued to walk. Eventually, the sun did come out: more so than i would have liked. I finally thought I had found where I wanted to go to regain my way home - and tried another short cut. This one didn't work either - although I did get to see another car accident. I have no idea how it happened; a single car was coming along the street above me and suddenly went flying over the curb and into a stand of trees. I heard a loud pop, as though a vehicle had run over a thousand pop cans simultaneously, and saw the bent car frame. I thought about running across the muddy field to proffer my first aid and CPR assistance, but the two men quickly emerged from the car, distraught, and several Arabic-speaking motorists had already started a large gathering around them.
I walked on, passing several embassies that I never realized were on our street. Finally arriving home, I discovered what explained the lack of wares at Jara, the police-crowded streets and my lack of appropriate clothes, the two car accidents, my lostness, and the sudden rain.
Today was Friday the 13th.
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