Angels from Avis

Sun 28 Feb 10

18 hours worth of flights, the 13 hour layover in Frankfurt and very little sleep were all expected. What wasn't was the lack of a welcome party when I reached Amman airport. Our plane arrived in good time. I bought a visa on the spot for 10JD (oh the beautiful sound of those stamps...) I passed security with no problems. My luggage was there to greet me, but no-body else was. I scanned the name placards like a lost kid 'are you my mummy?' in vain. Oh well, perhaps they're running late. But as the people slowly dribbled away I had the that feeling punctuality wasn't the problem. Hmmm...one stranded at 2am in a foreign airport is in need of help.

Help came in the form of 2 guys manning the Avis car rental booth. As there was no payphone or internet access in the arrival hall, they kindly let me use their phone and internet (for free even!Jordanians aren't out to make a buck unlike those in other countries..) The problem was that although I could reach my host family (poor Dana, waking her up at that hour only to worry her!), they weren't the ones responsible to pick me up - my exchange organisation was, and I couldn't get through to them.

The airport was all but deserted - no flights arrived after mine. There's only so much people watching you can do before it gets boring (particularly when everyone leaves and the remaining subjects go to sleep). And reading with a jetlagged brain is non-productive. Thus, with the reassurance of my Avis Angels that they (and their phone) were there anytime I needed, I bunked down on a bench.

I actually managed to catch a couple of hours of sleep, despite the repeated announcements 'We regret to announce that flight _____ from Bangkok has been delayed..' (no ones there waiting anyway, lady...);' May I have your attention please. This is a non-smoking airport' (whilst all the shop owners, security guards and taxi drivers are piping away inside...); 'Please do not leave your baggage unattended' (is unconscious attendance ok?). The 5am prayers blasted from the prayer room woke me up.

At 7.30am I tried the Exchange office and cell phone numbers again, to no avail. Well, one can't wait forever, and besides, my angels were finishing their shift at 9am. (I bought them coffee to say thankyou then thought O shoot, do muslims drink coffee?) Finally, with some good thinking and communication with Dana they put me into a taxi bound for Fuheis (Dana's place). I recruited a Brit tourist to accompany me and we dropped him off at his 'Palace Hotel' (corner backpackers) in Amman city on the way. The taxi driver was also a nice, chatty guy, seemingly oblivious to the obvious fact that neither of us spoke Arabic. The ride was 40JD ($80NZD), which apparently was too much, but there were many worse things he could have done to me so being overcharged was the least of my worries. Oh the relief to pull up at a drive way and my host mother to welcome me with a kiss on each cheek! I tipped the driver 0.70 JD in coins and a complimentary lolly from Changi airport - it was all I had to give.

I was fed with pita bread, eggs, plum jam (made from their homegrown plums), olive oil (pressed from their homegrown olives),fresh thyme (from their garden), dukkah (homemade from the thyme), goats cheese (no goats, unfortunately) and tea. All prepared by their maid who, by the way, is Indonesian. So here I am, supposedly teaching English, desperately trying to learn Arabic yet digging up my Malay I thought I'd laid to rest 3 days ago.

Life brings the unexpected, doesn't it?