Amman: A city of contradictions , where the tune of the propane gas bottle car, the shouts of the down town vegetable market merchants, intertwine with chic fashion tips from the pages of glossy magazines. Where the smell of gahweh ‘3ali from abu sale7, competes with the multi syllables coffee names from Starbucks and Second Cup.
Amman: A place where people try to look unique and different. where a pair of tight jeans could be accessorized with a modern looking hijab, or one can notice some goth/punk looking teenagers skating in Shmeisani. Where a suit can be coordinated with a trimmed beard.
Amman: Where some girls sneak out of their homes to meet their lovers. Sneaky lovers in a public park taking refuge behind a bush, a quick kiss or long one hoping that no one notice.
Amman: Where the middle class is slowly disappearing into thin air. A class on the brink of extinction.
A one-legged prostitute roaming the streets of Jabal Al Hussein for her final client before taking her own life. Where naked or semi-naked children in soiled underwear playing soccer with a ball made of used socks. Where cleaners rise before the sun to clean our streets, clean the memories of our nights, reside. where beggars ( the real ones) beg for some money to survive their unfortunate luck in the roulette of life. Where those given short stick in life struggle.
Amman: Where politicians care more about what’s going on by the 4th circle, thus fail to notice all problems. Where the “chair” is the goal. Where the citizen is the most precious liquid asset.
Amman: Where some families dream of a piece of meat, yet others feast on caviar and foie gras.