My first instance of culture shock came on the plane ride. I hadn't anticipated being one of the few Americans on my Royal Jordanian flight, although I should have. I was seated next to a middle-aged Amman native who was very antsy and spoke to me in Arabic. Apparently I look Jordanian. When he finally ascertained I was from the states, we conversed but briefly because his English was limited. However, from our small exchange I gathered he was very nice. The language barrier was somewhat relieving since it was an overnight flight and there was no reason or means to attempt chit chat. I quickly fell asleep and woke very parched. When I grabbed for my full water bottle tucked into the seat pocket in front of me, a bottle that I was very careful to fill before boarding for exactly this reason, I found it to be inexplicably empty. Inexplicable until my neighbor explained he had used it and was sorry, although he didn't replace it.
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