How I Stumbled Into Jordan’s Wild Holiday Calendar
Seriously, I almost got smacked by a kebab skewer during Eid al-Fitr. Let me tell you how this all went down.
Landed smack in the middle of Ramadan last year. Felt super awkward drinking water in public, honestly. My buddy Hussein texts me: “Yo, hide that water bottle til sunset!” That first iftar dinner? Absolute madness. Everyone goes from zero to FOOD in seconds flat. Ate so much mansaf my stretchy pants cried.
Then bam – Eid al-Fitr hits. Three whole days of pure craziness. Kids running everywhere collecting “eidiya” cash gifts like it’s Halloween but with dollars. Streets packed with people hugging, kissing cheeks, cussing out taxi drivers in joyful Arabic. TV specials blasted from every shop – even the barbers were watching soap operas between haircuts.
Fast forward to May – independence day chaos. Military parades rolled through downtown Amman. Tanks, jets, the whole nine yards. Soldiers marching while grandmas throw candy from balconies. Saw one old lady hit a general right in the hat with a caramel. Legend. Street musicians played oud till sunrise – my ears rang for two days straight.
But June? June broke me. Eid al-Adha came knocking. Five days of sacrificial sheep madness. Smell of roasting lamb hangs thick everywhere. Families hauling entire animals on their shoulders through traffic. Went with Hussein’s uncle to pick their family sheep – dude poked its teeth like buying a used car. “Good bones, good bones,” he muttered.
Here’s where it got wild:
- Ancient Roman theaters in Amman transformed into concert halls overnight
- Saw traditional dabke dancers under 2000-year-old stone arches at Umm Qais
- Accidentally joined a drum circle in Al-Matl Plaza – still can’t feel my hands right
- Ate so much zarb underground oven meat I could barely walk
The real kicker? Official holidays kept shifting. King Abdullah would randomly declare extra days off. Our “quick holiday” turned into a ten-day marathon of eating, dancing, and napping in hammocks. Government offices? Ghost towns. Banks? Forget it. Everyone just surrendered to the feast.
So yeah, my Jordam holiday takeaway? Pack stretchy pants. Learn three Arabic greetings. Don’t schedule anything important near major festivals. And if an old lady offers you raw lamb liver at sunrise… just smile and chew.
