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Waking up to a new morning with the call to prayer sounds in Amman feels like I'm in my city, Istanbul until I see the textures of pale and crooked buildings seem like holding each other to be able to stand alongside. From the hills of Weibdeh neighborhood, the view of Amman bathed in golden sunlight appears nearly as it did in my first image of this city, Jordan.


In Amman, I can witness that the west and east meet in harmony, visible in the daily life. On one side, there are sheesha places where the most part of dwellers can socialize each other while listening to traditional Arabic songs, on the other side I spot some modern, Westernized cafes by the side of the road full of expats who choose this city to live in a while.


When I leave the spirit of imperfections arising in contrast ways behind, I set out to find why I came to Jordan, a desert. I turn my attention towards a smooth and soft page of Wadi Rum which tells me old stories written by history. It shows me the winding roads directing me to dramatic sandstones and human face like rock structures looking very confused. Touching these rocks, chewing sand grains whenever the wind blows, and stamping my foot upon powder fine sand dune make me realize that I'm truly in a desert.


At night, after a cup of very sweet mint tea, I'm listening to sounds of oud played by Bedouins and watching the exquisite sky that it looks like it's adorned with jewels. Finally, I'm shrouded in silence and darkness -only the stars sparkle- as I feel like I'm in the movie set of "The Sheltering Sky". 

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