Made in Damascus, purchased just outside a Palestinian refugee camp, and burning pressed olive tree wood--leftovers that would otherwise be thrown away after the trees are picked and trimmed, so as not to unnecessarily chop down trees in this tree scarce country--we are now heating our new home with this stove, which means we have moved to the country.
After seven years near Second Circle in Amman, we have left the city for Marj al-Hammam--which in Arabic means "Meadow of Doves"--a small town of around 30,000 people, and about 15 minutes by car from the capital. At our old apartment, we lived on the second floor in an incredibly densely populated area, with the buildings on either side of us so close we could hear our neighbors washing their dishes, blowing their noses and urinating. Yes, urinating. Now, we live in our own smallish house and have a huge yard ringed by various fruit trees, with no immediate neighbors and one street adjacent to the yard on which--as of 2:50 on this Friday afternoon--no car has been seen today. This will be quite a change.
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