Pigeon Pigeon & Co.

Thursday + Friday, October 10th + 11th

8:30 am. After the usual morning routine, jogging and a leisurely breakfast, I sit down with my Arabic materials today. Whenever I learn Arabic, time flies by and after 3 hours, I wonder what exactly I have been doing for the past 3 hours. This language is truly like a sea, infinite in its vastness and depth. But complaining won't help. I still aim to be able to have a proper conversation in Arabic by the end of the semester.

My laptop eventually fails, as it often does lately, so I can no longer use my online Arabic program and decide to take a walk. After arriving half an hour late at the bookstore, where I wanted to get the manuscript for my Saturday Arabic course, I continue to Downtown to visit the market, which I haven't been to for a long time. On one hand, because I really miss the market with its fresh smells and friendly vendors, and on the other hand, because I want to buy a few things for tonight. We have invited some people to our rooftop terrace to spend some nice time in the cozy sitting area before we move to our final apartment next week.

The market is as always crowded with people, and while I greet a few familiar faces, I simply ignore many people who approach me from the side. I have decided not to react to random greetings or the usual "Welcome to Jordan". I want to feel as at home as possible in the coming time and not be reminded every day that I am new here and don't belong. That's why I'm also ignoring the person standing next to me, who is obviously trying to talk to me while I'm thinking about how many cucumbers we might still need for tonight in front of a vegetable stand. I try to stay persistent, but the person next to me just won't move. I turn around. Mubarak, whom we met yesterday at the little celebration on the rooftop terrace, is standing in front of me. He smiles at me uncertainly, and I immediately feel guilty. He must have felt really stupid next to me. But it's also a coincidence that I meet him today, after seeing him for the first time yesterday, between tomatoes and cucumbers at the market. I think the market here in Amman is something like a village pub in the countryside. So we chat briefly, and I spontaneously invite him to come to our place later. I hope that by doing so, I can make up for my stupid behavior.

Some time later, we are already sitting on our rooftop terrace by candlelight, with shisha smoke and snacks, enjoying ourselves. We only interrupt our party when Ayman, the guard who looks after this apartment building, suddenly appears and says that the fun is over now. It's late and our music (which was really very discreet) is too loud. But we still had a nice evening.

10:00 am. I allow myself some more sleep and start my morning exercise later than usual. However, today it's only a short pleasure: after about a kilometer, I twist my ankle so badly that I have to sit down for a moment and then hobble back home. That's going to be a swollen ankle, I can already feel it. So I rest on the couch until Rebecca and Lea wake up and then take care of me and breakfast. I hate not being able to move, but I understand that cooling and elevating my leg is the most sensible thing to do right now.

My laptop eventually gives up again, and I can't sit still: I just want to spend a tiny bit more time outside. I still haven't got the Arabic book for tomorrow's class. When I have carefully descended the last 100 steps to our university, I realize that the nearby bookshop where I can buy the book is closed today. I could have guessed that on a Friday. But I'm still glad for the exercise and on the way back, I bring Shawarma and Hummus, which I then enjoy together with Lea and Rebecca on our rooftop terrace in beautiful evening light and sunset.

As always, we watch the countless flocks of pigeons, which especially in the evening fly over Amman's rooftops and are incredibly beautiful in front of the setting sun. They live in pigeon coops, two of which are directly in our neighborhood and within sight. Observing the hustle and bustle there is really fascinating. The coops are occupied by the pigeon dudes (that's what we named them) almost all day long. They feed their pigeons and then chase them away with a stick. At first, I didn't quite understand this, but there are different stories about these pigeon coops. Allegedly, the owners (yes, I know, generalization) have a rather dubious reputation because they always try to attract and grab the pigeons from other coops. There is even a term for it in Arabic, which doesn't exactly reflect well on someone. Among other things, the pigeon business works like this: the owners release their pigeons in a flock, which collect a few other pigeons along the way, thus increasing the size of the flock. The pigeons are then sold and are considered a delicacy here. Whatever the details of the bird business may be: when we have nothing else to do, looking out the window and immersing ourselves in the bird world is always a good pastime.

I have to skip the Afro-Dancehall party that was planned for today because of my foot, I only accompany the girls to Markus' rooftop terrace and then make my way home again. I really hope I don't have to go on a rest program forever now.

In the past two days, at least I had enough time for my vocabulary:

Sentence- جملة

Word- كلمة

Week- أسبوع

Season- فصل

Spring- ربيع

Summer- صيف

Autumn- خريف

Winter- شتاء

Necessary- لازم

Cheap- رخيص