Of Camels and Khans

A little over a week has passed since my arrival in the Holy Land and many things have happened.

The Americans are very friendly and against my expectations the cultural gap hasn't proven to be unbridgeable. Though I don't think I'll ever get used to their trouserless culture. I've never seen a more underwear-obsessed culture.

I've have however seen my first proper digscorpions. The ones we had in Italy were hardly bigger than a fingernail, but these were the real McCoy, the full 6" long and nasty looking creatures from the Great Void.

During the day I have the honour of being in charge of three students and 8 shebabs. They are young and inexperienced but are quickly learning, except for this one guy called Abdullah, Aboud for the friends. Needless to say I call him Abdullah, he is a pubescent retard of the highest level and I think he is somewhat akin to a crossbreed between mouldy Jell-O, a bag of clams and Alfred Hithcock's pants, his English pants not the American ones.
If he doesn't rectify his degeneration soon I'm sending him up the tell to work on the boring sites.

In the evening we sit by the pool or on the rooftop terrace and have Arak and a smoke, ranging from modest cigars, over meerschuim pipes to full-blown argyles.
Tomorrow we'll be celebrating one of the team's birthday on the tell with more Arak, Philadelphia Beer and Nebo Wine.

One more thing before I leave you be.
This place is black booger country, my sinusses have forgotten what the colour green looks like and have instead replaced it with the murkiest black of the deep Abyss. And they're hard as well, I figure if I was to the hardness scale it'd be around 7 or 8.

PS: There's a lot of camels and one or two Khans.

Once more onto the Dunes, dear friends.

Wednesday I'm going back to my beloved Jordan, the country and not the model.

I will be rebooting this blog and trying to faithfully write on it every now and again.