Vintage suburbia in West Amman

I know I haven’t updated as much or often as I did in Spain… However, perhaps that is a good thing. I could tell you of the ruined villas and secret hideaways of Jebel Amman or I could relate the eccentricities of my cousins. Though both these topics have elicited some degree of interest to me, the revolving allure of Amman occurs indoors.
Gardens is the improperly named dusty district where my friends are housed. From the outside it looked no different than the tiny boxy villa rowhouses, however the inside proved to be a complete break from 21st century realities. The walls were plastered with 60s stylized amber wall paper, as artfully spotless vintage couches dotted every room. The lighting was that dim honey that commonly cloaks antique Polaroids. They sent me on a tour of avocado coloured bathrooms and James Bond stylized beds equipped with built an antique radio…
The bubble of lost time extended itself not only to the interior design but also the very actions of the inhabitants. Coffee was served out of a French press, as everyone ate cookies and talked of how our respective families were doing. A girl was knitting in the corner as 50s stylized French pop drifted from hidden speakers. We found ourselves sucked into the past, and I felt oddly right at home.