Musings in a Jordanian Cafe

I can’t sleep. I wonder how many times my mattress has played host to the insomniac tourist; too many to count probably. I just hope this bed has learned not to take it personally. 

“It’s not you it’s me,” I feel tempted to say.

This evening, I had a cup of tea at a place called the, Art Gallery Cafe on the corner of Al-Rainbow and Uthman Bin Affan Street. It was a cozy little spot that reminded me of a sidewalk café in Europe.

I overheard four-twenty something’s philosophize about travel, dating, and work. The most notable sound bites was one man’s claim that whales didn’t have faces. 

I'm still pondering that one.

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If I Ever Opened a Cafe Here’s What It’d Look Like

A few months back during a trip to Central America, I stumbled upon a little restaurant called, The Garden Cafe.

The cafe had big bright white doors, shelves lined with books, original local art work, and an open courtyard where I spent most of the night.

After a light dinner, I sat at my table writing for the next few hours. Almost on cue, a light rain began to fall. The sound of water dancing on bright green plants was accompanied by the faint dins of forks against porcelain.

It was one of those rare moments that bring a kind of clarity to life; you somehow know what to do about everything in your frenzied world.

After dinner, I decided to take the long way home. The same evening drizzle guided me home.

If I ever opened a restaurant of my own it would be exactly like The Garden Cafe, I thought.

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No WiFi

Yesterday during a soggy afternoon, I sauntered into a cafe. It was a coffee shop nestled in the heart of downtown I'd driven past many times. From the outside it looked like a great little spot to enjoy a cup of tea and get some work done. I decided to park my car and finally check it out.

When I stepped inside I was not disappointed. The dins of jazz played just loud enough,  I was inspired by the different groups meeting together for projects that looked both interesting and meaningful, and even the temperature of the room was perfect.

I stepped to the counter and glanced at the large black board listing all the food and different drinks they served written in chalk. They even had my favorite tea.

Just as I was about to order I looked up and read a sign that said, "Sorry. No WiFi." That's not gonna work, I thought to myself and left.

I got into my car disappointed searching earnestly for a new place to plop down and type away. But after just a few minutes I felt a gradual shift in my thinking.

I now appreciated how the cafe was committed to creating a very specific type of community. Rather than a place where the first thing you saw upon entering was a flotilla of laptops and plugged-in patrons, this establishment opted for an environment where people would have to connect in person - to talk and take on tasks that required a more personal kind of interaction.

We all have the capacity to change our communities and environments in some small way by making seemingly insignificant choices.