Every day here is opposite-of-Beijing, and maybe it's possible for some people to get bored of a blue sky with two teensy white clouds skittering toward the horizon, but I wouldn't know about that, because I've been here for over two years now, and every morning I turn my face to the sun and give thanks for that boring expanse of blue.
Today, though, was different. Oh, the sky was still blue, but there was a tinge of yellowish sandstorm on the horizon. And just now, when I opened the back door to let the dog out, I was hit in the face with a sandy gust of wind. The olive tree in the yard was snapping, and the rose bushes - those poor dry things, they miss the boab almost as much as I do, because he's been in Egypt for two months now - the rose bushes were shedding petals and dried leaves skyward.
I checked the weather on my phone, and instead of showing a round yellow sun, it showed a cloud with a lightning bolt on it. I had to check, to make sure I was looking at Amman weather, because I haven't seen anything but that yellow orb for so, so long.
But it was Amman. This is Amman. And so, even though it is still warm enough for t-shirts and shorts and weekends at the pool, I know fall is going to be here in the blink of an eye.
Herein lies the problem. Fall is coming. But I don't yet know: did I just spend my last summer in Amman? Or do I have one more blue sky season ahead of me still? Because while normal people call this season "fall," in the foreign service, people call it "bidding season."
That's right. We're in the throes of bidding, even though it seems to me that we just got here 3 weeks ago. And I'm not ready to leave. Not when I have Jenna, and Brett, and Michele, and Shawn, and Kellan, and Barbara, and all of those other people that I've grown to love already. How can we be leaving?
We do have an AIP job or two on the list, and if we (he) got one of those, I'd stay right here. But if we don't, then we're moving on next summer, to parts unknown.
This is what I hate. Wasn't I just bidding only moments ago, getting ready to leave friends in Beijing? Yet here we sit again, at the kitchen table, poring over lists and looking up posts on talesmag, and calling in favors, and quizzing the people who've been there already.
I. Hate. It.
Just tell me what the future holds already. Don't keep me hanging.
So the weather is getting ready to turn, and I wonder: am I supposed to be on the downslide, where everything about this place begins to bug me? Or am I still in the honeymoon phase, where I love it all and want to stay forever?
Somebody just tell me already.