So here we are - halfway through a degree course where reactions to a year abroad spent partially in the Middle East have been as follows:
In order of frequency:
1. Haha - good luck with that one mate
2. Try not to get shot/be killed OK? - variations thereupon
3. Don't get married (merits third place because of the very many times our principal lecturer said this to us)
4. Do try to keep in touch? (Fairly standard parenting)
5. I thought you did music?!
As mentioned above - here we are, or more specifically here I am along with Clara and Lydia R readying ourselves for the Autumn Term at Qasid Institute in Amman, Jordan.
Or at least, nearly.
The fabled Orientation (Edward Said eat your heart out) for the language school will start on 30th August so we have a little time to acclimatise before then.
The flight to Amman was much like any other flight. 5 hours is about how long most people keep themselves entertained with in-flight entertainment anyway, so that was all fine and dandy. At Amman International, after I'd made an interesting stab at the Visa conversation - he asked me where I was staying and I said a hostel, which apparently didn't feature on his list of acceptable accommodation options, we were met by two lovely Qasid taxi drivers who let us use the taxi wifi and called our host families to say we were on our way.
Having finally made it to a room with a bed, I was beset with some fairly serious feelings of trepidation over what was to come. Eventually I decided that it was going to be a pointless year if I felt inside my comfort zone the entire time, and moved on. More deets about day 1 to follow...