I Miss...

I've been gone from Jordan for nearly a week now. And here in London, Katie and I kept talking about what we missed in Jordan. Some samples:

I miss Falafels.
I miss warm pita bread from the bakery in Harta.
I miss walking 2 miles every time I want to get online.
I miss 4am.
I miss being tired of hospitality.
I miss warm milk, coffee, tea, dinner, and more all from a family who doesn't speak the same language as me, yet want to be nice to an American.
I miss Dubka.
I miss beautiful sunsets.
I miss the beautiful sound of Arabic.

I do not miss the morning call to prayer.
I do not miss our cook's food.
I do not miss second breakfast (wake up later, and you only need one breakfast!)
I do not miss Bob the slavedriver.
I do not miss Mithgol and his holey pants.
I do not miss Abu Noor and his barking.

I miss Mansef.
I miss Macglouba.
I miss Schwarma.

I do not miss honking horns.
I do not miss death defying drivers.
I do not miss early morning bus rides with crappy Syrian music.