I've decided that a good way of determing whether or not it has been a long day is by comparing the number of timezones crossed with the number of hours slept in one day; if the former outweighs the latter the day can go down in the registry of all things interminable. Long day and lack of sleep aside, I could hardly contain my excitement and anticipation as I stepped off the plane and walked inside the Queen Alia Airport in Amman, Jordan. Four years have passed, almost to the month, since I was last in the Middle East as a student. Many of the old memories came rushing back, along with familiar sights and smells and, thankfully, a smattering the Arabic phrases necessary to ward off over-eager porters and taxi drivers. Hopefully by the time I leave here I'll have a lot more to add to each of those categories.
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