o holy night

Tonight was one of the most surreal nights of my life.
i feel like i've started a lot stories that way in the past year or so--if everything is so surreal, than maybe it's not so much surreal as my perception of reality is a bit off.
anyway.
Abdoun circle is aparently this really fun place to hang out in Amman. my 17 year old host brother muhammed says he's there almost every night, and Tamara, my 25 year old host sister, agrees, though she doesn't want to go with Muhammed. She refuses to go with him, even though we all meet up, Tamara and Muhammed and Nikki and Muhammed's friend and i, we all meet up later at Abdoun circle like that was the plan all along and there wasn't a minor scene at the apartment about who was coming with who where.
anyway.
By the time Muhammed and Lutfi (maybe friends name, i'm never really sure) get there, i'm well on my way to bewilderment and sulking from the sheer incomprehension of everything that is going on.
Today is a holiday. no school. no work. Eid al-Istaklal--independence day in Jordan. We're watching cars go in cirlces around the duwar, honking repetatively, which is not abnormal for the ME, and waving jordanian flags and shouting, they keep going around and around and Oh Holy Night is playing over the cafe loudspeakers, and it's a version that i recognize, and old one, but i can't remember the singer and i don't think i ever knew it. the waiter brings us a complimentary cake, and it's not because of the two american girls it's because tamara is particularly captivating in a way i don't understand yet, and it's just a very very weird independence day. i can't remember too many other times when i've felt less independent in my entire life. and why the hell are they playing american christmas music at the end of may in a jordanian cafe. i don't even like this cake.
i'm still watching the cars, and trying to figure out how else i can tell my host siblings that i'm not unhappy i'm just tired, and i think about what Melissa said to me once about cars when we were in high school. i thought it was such an interesting remark to make and i keep waiting for someone else to say it again, in a different time and place, because i think about it a lot and i'm sure other people are thinking the same thing. especially in the ME. she said once, driving is kind of weird. everyone is in these large metal boxes, and the whole point is to move around as fast as you can without hitting each other, and it's just weird that we don't take these big, fast, metal containers and run into each other with them more often. If you've seen the traffic here, you would understand why i think about this all the time. why don't we run into each other more often? but i was thinking about this in a weird context the other day. in my hotel room, talking to lydia. i was asking her, i was asking the rooom in general and most especially i was asking god, if we all just want the same thing, if we all are just looking for happiness and peace, if we are all just looking for love, if we are all just trying to learn as much as we can, we doesn't it get done so much, why is there is still so much unhappiness and war and death and destruction and everthing, and why is is still so hard. why dont we run into each other more. it seems like there should be more crashes in life, whatever that may mean in all it's different contexts, and there aren't.
anyway.
i'm watching all these people and their jordanian independence day pride, and it's really weird. it reminds me more of cheering for the home team, like a mass rally for the favorite soccer team, than an outpouring of patriotism which may or may not mask certain ideological viewpoints. patriotism here doesn't have a the connotations that it does in the US, were overt and adament patriotism is associated with only, idk, hicks and republicans and whoever else. how strange. how very strange everything is.
anyway.
we're getting a ride home with Tamara and Muhammed's cousin. he pulls up in a little tiny bright green clown car. seriously, i saw this thing at the circus once. and we have a total of 7 people that have to fit in it. it was the weirdest ride home ever. i don't even know what i was laughing at. i think the sheer absurdity of my life as i know it. i don't even know what is happening. where am i? what street is this? did i pay my share of the tab at dinner? why is Lutfi half in the trunk, is he okay? how do i say this in arabic? what are they saying and why can't i understand it? how am i going to get through tonight and the next and the next and the next three months? absurdity.
anyway. we're home. or somewhere like it. happy jordanian independence day.