It’s amazing how just a little time can change your perspective.

When I sat down to write my column last week, anger and frustration gnawed at me as I described the dirty streets and the worn facilities of Irbid, Jordan. I knew it was an amazing opportunity to be here, and the logical part of me knew it would get better with time. But some bigger, heavier part of me was begging for the familiarity of the United States.

I thought I might never be happy in Irbid.

The weekend came, and with it the much-needed opportunity to travel. Friday afternoon, three program friends and I packed our backpacks and set off for an adventure.

We walked to the bus station and approached the service taxis with confidence.

“Twenty dinar for all four,” one taxi man yelled. We shook our heads. “Three dinar each,” we haggled. A moment later, we were in the worn backseat of a black sedan heading for Amman.

As we sped down the highway, I didn’t have time to worry about our driver’s crazy maneuvers. My eyes were drawn to the breathtaking landscape — rolling hills, valleys and clustered white houses built into the grassy mountains.

I was struck by the beautiful situation I was in — young and traveling in a foreign country on a whim, seeing a part of the world that most Americans never get to see.

We approached Amman within the hour. I was shocked to find it much lower to the ground than most cities I’ve seen. The few skyscrapers that existed stood in stark contrast to the rest of the low-standing buildings that made up the city. We pulled up to the Palace Hotel at the insistence and recommendation of our taxi driver.

“Palace Hotel,” he repeated. “Cheap and great. You must go.”

For five Jordanian dinar each, we got a room for four. We quickly dropped our stuff in the cell-like dorm and took to the streets. In the pouring evening rain, we took shelter in the bright gift shops and restaurants, eating dinner at an authentic Jordanian restaurant. The cuisine felt distinctly tame compared to that of Irbid.

Later, we met with other people from our program and headed to a local bar, spending the night with an interesting mix of people: local Jordanians, visitors from other Middle Eastern countries and more American students.

We went to bed feeling very content, even in a hotel room without a heater. The next morning, we packed our backpacks and left, determined to see more of what Amman had to offer.

We discovered huge ruins at the top of a hill downtown called the Citadel. Sipping freshly squeezed pomegranate juice from a roadside stand, we wandered around the historical site and marveled at the view. The city sprawled away from every side of the massive hill, block upon block of white buildings weaved with roads. A 7,000-year-old temple stood in the midst of this urbanity.

For a few hours, we took pictures and climbed old rocks until everyone got too tired and hungry to marvel any more. After a quick stop at a pizza shop and an American Starbucks, we climbed back into a cab and headed back to Yarmouk University in Irbid.

On the return drive, I couldn’t help but feel relieved. But to my surprise, I found that my satisfaction didn’t come from leaving Irbid.

It came from going back.

In the 24 hours I’d spent in Amman, I experienced the bustle of Jordan’s largest metropolis. I saw the massive city from atop its most famous historical site. And while the change had been welcome, it felt fast-paced and unfamiliar. In many ways, Amman didn’t feel as authentic as the life in Irbid.

And just like that, Irbid became a comfortable oasis, the place I longed to come back to after a tiring journey. I saw value in my simple apartment with heat and hot water. I appreciated the man at the fruit stand who recognized me when I walked by.

Irbid doesn’t have any bars, clubs or nightlife. By Western standards, it’s not luxurious or clean. But the people are incredibly sincere and the city’s slow pace allows you to get to know its secrets.

It still doesn’t feel perfect all the time. But all of a sudden, it feels like home.

Published on February 4, 2013 at 11:08 pm