Feb 24

Feb 24 "Amman, My Skeleton House: A Photo Essay" by Sutton Amthor

I grew up in a town of 1,200 people. I spent all thirteen years of school - from kindergarten to high school - at the same school district, with all the same classmates. All of my close friends lived nearby, some just a short walk down the road. All of my childhood memories are centered around one town, one community, one winding network of rural country roads. For eighteen years, “home” was a word that I defined by its obvious presence all around me.

Some of the walls at Climbat Amman, a rock climbing gym located on the outskirts of Amman. Climbat was the first place in Jordan I found to relax and socialize, and I was immediately welcomed into the community. Photo credit: Amthor, 2020

With all the naivety of a sheltered teenager, I hated it. I wanted an escape. When it came time to choose my college, I chose to study on the other side of the country, two thousand miles away from the town where I grew up. I was looking for adventure. I was looking for a challenge. I was looking to make new friends, to explore new places.

Raspberry smoothies and quesadillas from Mindhub Coffee House, my favorite place to study. The smoothies are delicious, and while the quesadillas are not exactly “good,” I love them because they remind me of the food from my college’s cafeteria. Pho… — Raspberry smoothies and quesadillas from Mindhub Coffee House, my favorite place to study. The smoothies are delicious, and while the quesadillas are not exactly “good,” I love them because they remind me of the food from my college’s cafeteria. Photo credit: Amthor, 2020

I did make new friends and explore new places, and, in the process of doing so, I made my college a new home for myself, a new network of friends and mentors, a new web of memories and places that I love.

The view from the treadmills at my gym, a fantastic place where I can forget about homework for a few hours and just run. Photo credit: Amthor, 2020 — The view from the treadmills at my gym, a fantastic place where I can forget about homework for a few hours and just *run*. Photo credit: Amthor, 2020

But when you make a new home for yourself, you never really lose the first one. As I was constructing my new home, I still missed my parents and my friends and my hometown. And when I returned home for my first Thanksgiving break, I spent the whole week missing my friends and my favorite places at my college.

The falafel sandwiches from Al-Quds are worth dying for. Not that you would ever have to, since they only cost 75 cents. Photo credit: Amthor, 2020

This is reality for me now: always divided, always longing for some part of home that is missing from me. My two homes are two thousand miles apart, and I can’t be in two places at once. I do not regret my choices, though: I would never give up one of my homes to rid myself of that ache.

Crepeaholic is the best place in Amman to get crepes and waffles. I’m normally not much of a waffle person, but one waffle from this place got me completely addicted. Now I come here at least once a week. Photo credit: Amthor, 2020

I am now in the process of constructing a third home for myself here in Amman, and it’s not an easy task. Amman is much, much larger than both my hometown and my college. I am less automatically integrated into the community here, and my stay of four months is very short when compared to the eighteen years I spent building my first home.

Having the time of my life during a hiking trip to Wadi ‘Araba. Every Friday, a couple of my teachers invite students to go hiking with a local group, and I go as often as I can. Photo credit: Amthor, 2020

But I know myself, and I know how I get attached to places, and I know that in three short months, I won’t just be leaving Amman. I’ll be leaving my home. What is now nothing more than a skeleton house will have grown into something warm and familiar and entirely worth longing for.