Going back in time to the future: crossing the bridge to Jordan

Heading off to Jordan this afternoon. Pretty psyched about it. Seeing good friends, both Jordanian and American (including one Fulbright bud who lives in Saudi, but is in Amman for the weekend so we'll be celebrating St. Paddy's Day tonight), getting my nails done for cheap, eating my all-time-favorite dessert helawi bil jibn, and generally stomping around my old, beloved stomping grounds.

I am also planning on scouring the city to try to find my beloved Iraqi friend., who you should without question read about here, if you haven't done so already. If I do indeed get to see him, tears of joy will roll roll roll down my face. Mostly because I often wonder if he's still alive. Sigh/smile, simultaneous.

Getting over will be ok, it just involves insanely expensive visa and exit fees imposed by my beloved neighbors to the west. Getting back will be a giant, horrible pain, as of all border crossings, Sheik Hussein/Allenby is the worst. Hours of waiting, strip searching, endless interrogation are all just part of the joys of coming back from a relaxing weekend trip. Yahoo.

The thought of writing about it in full descriptive detail on this blog will probably get me through with at least a smirk if not a smile. My old boss used to use an expression (pardon my French!), "grin fucking". That is totally what I will be doing.