Never-Ending Quest for Green Spots

Spending the last six years in the Middle East has imbedded in me a never-ending desire to locate any sort of nature or greenery to feed my soul; however small the green bit is. But in the last few years, my desperation has taken on new heights, and I’ve started to employ various satellite mapping programs to help in my quest.  I first started this in Kuwait, where, much to my husband’s amusement, I repeatedly fell prey to some misleading labels that designated something as “green,” “garden,” or “park.”  The two most egregious were the “Nature Reserve” which turned out to be a fenced-in area of sand covered in trash along the Gulf coast, and the “Japanese Garden” which turned out to actually be a “Remediated Soil Park,” which seemed to imply some sort of contamination clean-up.

But, my desperate need to touch Mother Nature has not left me daunted or jaded, so the quest continues!  And during our time here in Jordan we are slowly exploring some of the “green,” “garden,” and “park” bits out there to see what’s worthy of a second trip, or what was just a satellite marketing scheme.  Here’s what we’ve found so far:

Housing Bank Park – located in Abdoun, across from Fitness First Gym (GPS: 31°56'26"N 35°53'1"E); sandy, quite clean, well-maintained equipment, swings and slides and climbing gear, paths and nicely landscaped.  The only negatives are the lack of shade, the popularity which can lead to masses of children, and the weird hours (sometimes locked around 5:00pm and randomly shut on weekends and holidays).

Al Diyar Park – located in Abdoun, behind the small Cozmo off Saad Zaghloul (GPS: 31°56'54"N 35°52'43"E); small playground with swings and slides, relatively clean sand, and a fenced in area good for tricycles, soccer practice, running loose, etc.

Salah al Deen park

Salah al Deen Park – located a few blocks from 4th circle, next to the Salah al Deen Mosque (GPS: 31°57'19"N 35°53'35"E); a small quiet park with a few swings and see-saws, mostly paths and bushes and a run-down tennis court.

Zahran Garden – located off Zahran Street, between 4th and 3rd circles, across from HRH Queen Zain Al-Sharaf Al Hashmi Palace (GPS: 31°57'15"N 35°54'7"E); small with no playground equipment, but walled-in and relatively secure to let little ones explore on nicely landscaped paths.

Orthodox Club – located one block from Abdoun circle (GPS: 31°56'51"N 35°53'47"E); costs 2JD per child to use the playground (adults are free), but the facilities are nice and shaded, with relatively clean sand and lots of climbing and swinging equipment (most in working order).  Do note that if you are not a member of the Orthodox Club then you can only visit during the week, not on weekends.

Amman Martyrs Park – located off al Hashimiyeen Street (GPS: 31°56'38"N 35°52'20"E); sandy and sunny playground with swings and slides and nicely landscaped paths to explore.

Sports City

Al-Hussein Sports City– located off Al Shaheed Street (GPS: 31°58'57"N 35°54'5"E); free entry, can rent old bicycles here or just bring your own, very popular and crowded on weekends, but still fun to explore the wooded trails and paths (though you’ll enjoy it a lot more if you can figure out how to ignore the endless sea of plastic bags and trash everywhere).

King Abdullah Gardens – located at the intersection of Kindi and Arar Streets; apparently this used to be the site of a small amusement park, but is currently mostly home to concrete block buildings housing car rental companies and a derelict cable car system (don’t fall prey to the misleading greenery on various online maps).

King Hussein Gardens – located adjacent to the Children’s Museum (GPS: 31°59'9"N 35°49'41"E); this, by far, has been the biggest disappointment in my quest for green spots.  It’s an enormous complex and considering it’s located next to several very popular destinations, the Children’s Museum and the Royal Automobile Museum, I went with rather high hopes.  Within minutes, these were quickly and resolutely dashed.  The grounds were littered with trash and cigarette butts and the few playground areas I passed by were dilapidated and potentially dangerous, with jagged metal edges and missing bolts.  It’s still very popular on the weekends with families crowding around the trees for picnics, but until I hear of a massive clean-up and overhaul, I don't think I'll be returning.

This is hardly an exhaustive list, but it’s a good start for anyone else who feels the need for a quest for a green spot.

Ice Cream, Car Parts & a Little Adventure

The next time you have a hankering for a few kilos of home-made ice cream, or for an adventure through Bayader’s automotive industrial district, head on over to Casper Italian Ice Cream.

The one catch is that you’d never know it was there unless someone told you exactly where to go.  So for locals, or intrepid visitors to Amman, let’s start there.

Take Queen Zein Street west, towards Airport Road (away from City Center), then keep going.  You’ll next pass King Abdullah II Street, where Queen Zein turns into Al-Sina’ah Street, but keep heading straight.  Go through two more lights, then at the next circle, just at the pedestrian overpass, make a u-turn and your first right, just at the corner vegetable market.  Follow this road straight (for those who’ve been there, you’ll pass the road on the left that leads to Desert Rose Holy Land Designs), then pass the fire station on your right, and come to a triangular traffic “circle” (you’ll recognize it, trust me).  Make a hard left here.  Follow this road and take your third left.  The road will quickly turn right and on your left you’ll see number 12, with a small “Casper” sign above the door.   Walk up to the second floor and follow the hallway around to the Casper door (written in Arabic, but look for the tiny ice cream sticker on the door).  And yes, it does feel a bit like you're heading to see the Oracle to find out your fate.  Ring the bell and enter.

The owner is Marwan and they have a wide selection of all flavors of home-made ice cream, from chocolate mousse to cheesecake to Twix and tiramisu.  The one catch is that they only sell it in tub-sizes – three kilos each – and the prices range from 12-16JD per tub, depending on the specialty.  The good news is that you can re-use the tubs for geraniums in the Spring or for apple bobbing in the Fall.

Unfortunately, also, there’s no taste-testing.  However, I think a great summertime treat might be a neighborhood block-party type taste-testing.  Let everyone get a spoonful of some of their 70 flavors.  Then when you’ve chosen your favorite, pile up the kids and head on over to Bayader for your very own personal tub (and maybe a muffler or two).  Do note that their hours are 10:00am to 5:00pm, Saturday through Thursday (closed Fridays).  Now, who wants ice cream?!?!

17 Things I’ve Learned About Being a New Mom

First appeared on parentsociety.com, 15 February 2013 -- http://www.parentsociety.com/parenting/todays-family/mom/things-ive-learned-about-being-a-new-mom/  

As my daughter and I were muddling through the beginnings of our relationship and getting used to our new roles, I began learning new things about myself, my limitations, my strengths, my ever-growing weaknesses, and started seeing everything anew through my kaleidoscopic, perpetually-smudged, new-mommy-glasses.

• I learned that extreme exhaustion has a taste; sawdust with just a hint of dried cumin, for some reason.
• Exhaustion swells the eyelids and makes it feel as if I’m using them to store grit, like a highly confused chipmunk; it also swells the tongue to twice its size (or so it feels).
• I lost the ability to stand still; even when not holding the baby, my body automatically rocks side to side (could be a problem in a china shop).
• The books say that newborn babies sleep 14 to 18 hours a day, they just neglect to mention that’s broken down into 34-minute naps over a never-ending 24-hour period.
• I had visions of carting a sleeping angel around in her car seat as I efficiently moved through the house getting things done, but this is a fallacy beyond measure.
• Newborns cannot be bought; no matter how many ponies or brunches with Cinderella or safari trips I offer.  If she’s not interested in being soothed and put back to sleep at 4:12 a.m., it ain’t happening.  (Tears from mommy are equally ineffective.)
• I’m learning to severely limit my expectations of daily accomplishments, and just be happy with a shower, a clean baby, and maybe reading an email or two (this was originally entitled, “New-Mommy Observations - Week Three”, and in all honesty, it was actually written in week five; don’t push it.)
• I had visions of mommy and baby lying down happily for their daily naps, but I have yet to master the ability to fall asleep immediately and maximize my allotted 34 minutes.
• I had several moments where friends, and even my husband,  pointed out that I’ve asked the same question three times, or made a nonsensical observation, to which I point out that my reduced brain-capacity has left me with frighteningly low reserves and frankly I’m just delighted that my body continues to breathe without my having to think about it.
• The name of the daily game is, “Guess my issue.”  Babies have five basic issues at this stage: hunger (therefore feed me, faster!), full diaper (get it off, get it off, get it off!), low-cuddle-quotient (hold me, or I’ll die!), pain/discomfort (toes are bent in the footie, diaper’s too tight, I’ve drooled in my ear, etc.), or stimulation (either too much, so take me in a dark quiet room to detox, or not enough, so show me something interesting before I collapse from boredom).  If none of those soothe the screaming fussies, then I can’t help myself and bring out the brunching with ponies and Cinderella card again (apparently I’m not a quick learner at this stage).
• I found a new sense of peace and zen-like calm in the ability to do dishes (which meant I’d passed the baby on to my mother or Daddy for a mini-break).
• I learned I had the ability to quickly adapt to a one-armed lifestyle, and other than using a curling iron, have come across few insurmountable obstacles.
• When I would tell people the baby’s on a three-hour feeding schedule, their faces light up and they exclaim, “Oh how nice, three-hours to sleep is great!”  But I had to point out that a three-hour feeding schedule broke down in to verbal request from awoken child (i.e., screaming), diaper change, bottle prep, feed sleepy baby, burp, feed more, place in bassinet and soothe with various shhhh’ing or zoom-zoom-zoom’ing combined with the modified panini-press, invented by Daddy during those first few nights after the hospital.  All of this resulted in a two-hour nap on a good day.
• I spoke to more strangers in the first four weeks of my daughter's life than in the previous ten years; and found great comfort in the sleepless misery of others; impromptu support groups meet at Target check-outs across the country daily.
• It’s never helpful when you complain about your exhaustion and someone would retort, “I told you so!”  Was I supposed to reply, “You’re right, I never should have had children.”  Instead, please just empathize and offer to take the two to seven a.m. shift.
• I fell in love with two baby products more than any other; the Baby Bjorn carrier and the SwaddleMe swaddlers.  My love of both was in their ability to soothe a fussy baby with seemingly magical powers.  Bless you both!  (Plus, I could even do dishes while wearing Bean like a barnacle.)
• I started to think that mommyhood was nothing more than a pyramid scheme.  Before the baby, other moms would regale you with delightful stories of angelic children, cupcake parties, adorable giggles and smiles that would melt your heart.  After the baby, they chortle at you when you begged for advice on how to soothe a newborn to sleep and suddenly reveal, “Oh, Bob didn’t sleep through the night until he was five and a half!”, or “Marylou would scream and turn purple every night from eleven to two a.m.,” or “I had to learn how to sleep while walking in circles with the twins strapped to my chest for three years.”  I figured they’d let me in the club if I could find some poor sap to join the ranks behind me.  Now, who do I know who doesn’t have kids yet?

Neighborhood Explorations: Abdoun

Abdoun is a neighborhood in southern Amman.  And from what I've seen so far, it's full of palatial villas, embassies, and apartment buildings.  There are shops and hospitals and malls, of course, but it's what Americans would call upper-middle-class to wealthy, i.e., posh suburbia.  

So, on the surface, it's not really that interesting.  However, once you know what to look for, Abdoun becomes a life-sized "Where's Waldo", only you're not looking for a gangly guy in a striped shirt.  Instead, think Dr. Seuss-like foliage and creative faux finishes. As you drive around, you can certainly become numb to the rows upon rows of beige villas, with periodic splotches of green bushes and trees.  These are really the only two colors in Amman.  But the next time you're at a stop light, blink a bit and refocus and check out the bushes around you.  Do they look a little... wacky?  Like maybe Edward Scissorhands is Jordan's Minister of Foliage?  Or maybe "Dr. Seuss's Guide to Pruning in Whoville" caught on here with a vengeance.  The zaniness of the bushes cannot be explained; it must be seen.

If the foliage doesn't amuse you enough, then start checking out the villas.  All of the villas and apartments are made out of the same beige-colored cement, creating endless rolling hills of beige.  Some are just jaw-droppingly palatial, replete with ornate gates and probably an elevator or two.  Granted, there were palatial villas in Kuwait as well, however, they tended to be just big, beige, bland, and blocky.  Here, however, they've taken the time to embellish, sometimes to an extreme degree.  So, again, blink and refocus and look beyond the beige; you may find faux wonders beyond your imagination (but lucky not beyond someone else's).

Cairo’s Khan el Khalili – Everything you want, even if you don’t know you want it

(Written May 2008) In addition to the pyramids of Giza (there are pyramids all over Egypt, so one must specify), which are less than 40 minutes by car from us, there is also “The Khan” as a major tourist draw. It’s officially called Khan el-Khalili, but us locals refer to it as “the Khan” (I’m trying to acclimate). So one day, my husband agreed to take me down to the Khan, just to experience it.

Our first adventure was taking the metro. Cairo has a metro system similar to Washington, DC’s in that they have the 3-4 colored lines. But in addition, the metro system here has “women only” cars. I’ve been told that the women's car could be in the front, middle or end of the train, so if I’m by myself, I should just look for a gaggle of women and go stand near them. It would be my suggestion that they just paint these cars pink, make it easier for everyone to locate them (though surprisingly, no one’s asked for my opinion yet).

After a few minutes the train arrived and we clambered aboard. It was very similar to older-style DC or NYC subways, hard plastic seats along the side, rails and poles to hang on to, straps dangling from the ceiling. The primary difference I’d say was the lack of air-conditioning, though on the day we rode it, it really wasn’t necessary. But I could see that in the summer it would be a whole different experience.

Men and women were riding in the car, so I don’t know how necessary the “women’s” car is, though I might feel different without my husband next to me. At one stop, as we were standing there, holding our straps, in front of the open doors, some boys walked by and waved at us. How nice; but I opted not to return the gesture. My husband told me later that he was ever-vigilant about making sure there wasn’t any casual touching, brushing, or basic grabbing on my persons. And there wasn’t.

So we exited at Sadat Station, right in Tahrir Square near the Egyptian Museum. Now, when I say exited, I should clarify that it was more of a mosh-pit like shove-down. I’ve been in subways and trains in Boston, DC, NY, London, Amsterdam, Italy, etc., but never have I experienced a mob-scene like that. I never felt afraid, per se, however I was gripping my purse and camera tightly and doing my best to move forward, hoping that my husband was one of the bodies pressing against me. We finally burst onto the platform and I turned to see him emerging from the fray. I just had to laugh. Apparently the concept of those entering the train standing to the side to allow those exiting to do so first, has not caught on here. Good to know. I’ll bring my battering ram or tazer next time.

Once outside, we headed to the line of taxis. Most were empty of drivers, who were sitting on a wall nearby. My husband leaned in to ask the one driver in his cab about going to the Khan, and we were immediately surrounded by lots of loud and fast Arabic. Apparently we needed to go to the first cab in line, regardless of the lack of driver. So despite our ignorance, we managed to make it all the way to the Khan without any further blunders. We exited the taxi and walked around the corner where it opened into a large grassy square, bracketed on one side by a huge beautiful mosque, draped in tiny lights. There was something almost Hollywood-like about the whole scene. Hundreds of people milling about, in all forms of dress, with every nationality present and tour buses coming through with great regularity. We summoned our perseverance and determination and dove into the chaos of the Khan. You know when you’re on an amusement ride, and you sit down, strap in, and the ride starts to move forward and you enter through doors into a dark or other-worldly place just before the car jettisons forward? Well, this was the same experience, minus the plastic sticky seats. We walked into a small alleyway crammed full of shops (not an experience for the claustrophobic or agoraphobic). It was a bombardment of sights, sounds, and all sensory sensations. There was tourist chachka as far as you could see, pyramid replicas in all shapes, sizes and materials (I think I saw a blow-up one), sphinx replicas, brass plates, bowls and pitchers, jewelry of all kinds (some wearable, some just to gawk at), t-shirts, keychains, everything a tourist would ever buy. In addition to the stuff, stuff, and stuff, there were hawkers everywhere at every turn, trying to get you into their store (which has the same stuff as the next guy’s store and the next after that). They are relentless, constantly yelling at you, offering a “free look,” or yelling, “I don’t know what you want, but I know that I have it.” For the t-shirt and gallibaya sellers (the traditional long shirt or dress worn here), they'd bellow out, “Gallibaya for the lady?” “Gallibaya for man?”, and my husband’s favorite was, “I have your size!” We laughed out loud the first time we heard these, but by the seventh, they had lost their humor. Most of these guys stop at physically dragging you into their shop; most of them. But if you make it through the first section, you find yourself in an equally Kafka-esque section, but now we get into the marginally less-touristy merchandise, and depending on your digging skills, some fun buys. The Khan is laid out like a labyrinth or a hedge-maze made out of shops. In addition to the crazy twists and turns of the narrow cobbled streets, there are stairways and alley off-shoots everywhere. This is probably one of a few places in the world where it’s relatively safe to allow a stranger to lead you down a dark alley; here you’ll end up at a tiny shop where gold jewelry is being made before your eyes, or appliqué wall-hangings are being sewn, or “genuine antiquities” are being sold just to you. At one point my husband led me, much to the excitement of the hawker on the street, up a narrow stone staircase. At the top we found ourselves in an open-air courtyard with more shops all around the edges. We wandered into a few here, as they were less crowded and the sellers were, well, less obnoxious. Here we could browse or actually “look for free” without constant yammering. We saw some interesting brass ware, from name plates, to bowls and pitchers, to basically anything that could be made out of brass, but didn't buy anything. In addition to the items you see for sale, most of these merchants can also make things to your specifications. Unlike the states, here you often buy directly from the artist or designer, or if they can’t do it, they know someone who can create what you want. It’s an exciting option to be able to requisition a piece of furniture or art or kitchenware, as opposed to buying the latest from China in a box with too much packaging. I’m sure we’ll partake of this option during our time here (though I’m not sure my husband fully understands that we’ll be partaking of this option…). The thing about the Khan is if you have the luxury of being able to visit a few times, and not be constrained to the tour bus slots, you can explore it first, peek at things here and there, get an idea of what you might be interested in (silver or gold jewelry, beads, gemstones, clothing, glassware, marble, brass, bronze, etc.), get recommendations from others, and then go back with a purpose. There are some fantastic shops wedged inside, and it just takes a little time, effort and determination to find them. But even if you’re only in Cairo for a few days, you have to at least attempt the gauntlet of the Khan. And don’t be shy; remember, they have your size!