Winters goss...

Out of unpopular demand, and an ever growing gap left by the lack of blogging, and an ongoing conversation with my employer, it is safe to say, this blog is more or less back, but without any reference to my employer or any details about what happens within the confines of the radio house.

How do we start again. It is a sunny day, thanks to global warming, there has been very little snow in Sweden this winter, and I have a secret plan to grow palm trees on the balcony. Not so long ago I was in Jordan with Petra, and the weather there was more annoyingly cold, perhaps because we expected sun and beaches.

We headed south of Amman a few days before new years eve, first stop was a bedoin camp in Dana where wind blew so hard it was coming through the fabrik of the black bedoin tents and straight into our bones, luckily we had warm sleeping bags. I have been to the same bedoin camp a few times, and the young man that runs it, Hamza, seems to be doing well this time, he had a full house. I asked him to fix us a room, and out of his bedoin generosity, he could not let me go knowing that there are no rooms available. So instead he drove us south of Dana, into a bedoin camp right in the middle of no where, with arabian couches, and a butler who came in with candles, burning coal, warm tea and oranges, and left us alone under the magnificent cover of the stars.

Next morning, I drove Petra to Petra, and through the marvels of the Siq we took our first rest right ahead of the treasury (photos on Petra's blog) taking the classical petra tourist photos and riding camels like a good tourist would do. We stopped for tea on our way to Qasr Al Binit (Castle of the lady), and had a typical Jordanian conversation with the bedoins selling jewelery there - about the expected price hikes - eventually leading to giving me a discount and a secret route to ancient Petra (which I won't reveal). It was good to know, the boys are alright.

Like good sporty tourists, we finished the whole Petra tour in a couple of hours, and by lunch time we were already eating Chef's recommendations at a new Chinese restaurant in Aqaba. The restaurant is owned by a half-Jordanian, half-Taiwanese family. Khaled, the eldest son, used to be a very close friend of mine back in schooldays, and since then we have been meeting in different parts of the world every couple of years. Now it was his treat - unlimited access to the bar and kitchen, as well as a place to crash.

It was new year's eve, and we got together with a few other friends on the second floor of the restaurant, reserved for *vips* as khaled would like to say. The evening was pleasant, and the viking drinking skills were a source of entertainment until fireworks started blowing just right ahead of us, and right by the sea. A lot of rounds later, the night was to be called for an end, and the after party would be at khaleds place. By the time we got there some were knackered, some were dazed and confused, but I have just recieved the worst news - Khaled had not one, but FOUR, cats. There was no way I could stay there, since I have a severe allergy, but drunk as I was, I thought, whats a cat or four. An hour or so later, Petra shook me in my sleep and told me I wasn't breathing anymore. We had to pack up and leave before day break.

We drove around Aqaba, and no hotel would let us sleep in the same room, if we had no marriage certificate - since I am jordanian and shes a foreigner (I.E. we are likely to indulge in sin, something no good mohammad would want in his house). Fine, no conflict resolution reasoning worked with those good muslim receptionists, so I had to spit my feelings for religion on the hotel doors, and quietly drove, almost 90% asleep, all the way back to Amman.

Earlier, in Amman we had a great time, sharing laughs with my family everynight by the fire place, warming our bones before we go out for the night rambles. We met quiet a few Swedes, one girl from the arctic part of Sweden hanging out with a Jordanian (of Nigerian backround) at Amigos. We ended up in my place for an after party, and we met again in the morning for a christmas morning breakfast. Apparently, love has found a nest during the night and the girl seemed thankful for it (knowing that she had run away to Jordan from an abusing boyfriend in Sweden). Another Swedish woman we met at a furniture store, where she heard us discussing prices in Swedish and thought that she would blow it for us, revealing that she spoke our 'secret language'. A couple I met at the salmon section of a department store, of course, waiting for our good Norwegian salmons to be weighed and priced.

Later, we are back in Sweden, back to work, had to leave Stockholm temporarily so I have to commute 2 hours everyday to work. And in the 2-3 weeks I have been here, I have read tolstoy's War and Peace, the complete Viking myth and legend collection, Mario Puzos The Sicillian and 4-5 newspapers, front to back, everyday.

At least it is sunny, and we got cheesecake and wine for Petras birhtday tonight. Mine in three days, but there won't be no such delights then, as I am likely to be commuting most of the evening.