A few weeks ago me and group got invited back to Aiman (the Mansef guy) to enjoy another traditional Arab dinner. This time in his hometown Irbid and instead of Mansef there was Qibsa. Again, the food was more than enough and we only got through about a tenth of what they had. I don't think I could ever afford to follow the Arabs example of hospitality.
After dinner we went to a salon (everyone in Jordan calls them "saloons") which Aiman's wife owns, to get henna. This seemed like such a wonderful idea at the time and it wasn't until the next day that I remembered that I really can't stand anything on my skin. Still, it was fun to spend some time with Aiman's wife and his three daughters and see how excited they were to show us the different patterns we could get. The little girl in the picture is his youngest daughter and she was absolutely adorable. The dress she is wearing is made out of a pattern that is symbolic to Jordan. It's the same kind that people often wear as scarfs here, known as a kufeya.
We didn't end up leaving Irbid until a little after 11pm and seeing as the town is about an hour and half away we realized we wouldn't be getting home until late. It turned out to be later than any of us expected. They loaded us all into their minivan and we started the drive home, but about half way there the car suddenly broke down.
We were stuck in the middle of the night on a deserted highway. To entertain ourselves while we waited for help we played games and the Jordanian guys who had been driving us (Aiman's son and nephew) danced the Jordanian traditional dance, dabka, and tried to teach the other guys with us. That is definitely a memory I won't forget. A group of men lined up along a silent desert highway dancing in the middle of the night.
Our unexpected adventure brought us home at around four in the morning. After many attempts at restarting the car and calling the police to help us (who showed up but I never quite figured out what they did since nothing changed after they left either) we finally managed to hail two stray taxis to take the eight of us home to our apartments, which are the most expensive taxi rides I have taken in Jordan. The poor Jordanian guys spent the night in the broken down van, but they had someone come and get them the next day.
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