Those of you who have been to Jordan know what a safe and accomodating place it
is for foreigners.  I have never become very fond of Amman as a city - lots of
Roman ruins - not much else of interest within the city.  However, Jordanians
are beautiful, hospitable, welcoming people.  Because of these factors my
family let me do much exploring on my own for those first few days of my
holiday.

On more than one occasion I wandered our neighborhood, Jebel Amman, and would
be invited into a home for a coffee and pastry.  After one such walk I arrived
back home to find my father there.  It was most unusual for him to be there at
that hour and when he saw me he hurriedly invited me into his study.  Alarms
went off in my head.  Had I violated some law or custom by accepting
invitations to visit in those local homes?  Did something go wrong at my
school?  Mom?

As is my father's custom, he is very deliberate and measured in talking to me,
to staff, to clerks; I have learned patience.  Eventually what he needs to say
is made clear.  This manner of his was driving me crazy this time.  I had been
in Jordan only five days and here I am, alone, at an unusual time of day with
my father.  "Cody, tell me about your flight...Cody, what do you know about
your seat mate?...Cody, what did you talk about?"  I told my father all I knew
and the more he asked me questions the more worried I became.

I think he sensed my growing anxiety as he finally told me not to worry.  He
was trying to see the total picture and he had very good news for me.  First,
he wanted to be able to understand how I had come to know Samir.

Apparently Samir is from an influential Jordanian family.  They are not related
to the throne. They are important in the political life of Jordan and its
parliament.  A family emissary called on my father to invite me to be the guest
of Samir to visit Petra two days hence.  Furthermore, I was invited as an
overnight guest at his family's hideaway close by etra.  It would be a two day
adventure in the company of an important family and my father was concerned
about me and this responsibility.  Although, I could tell he seemed quite
pleased about this unexpected invitation and there was an air of pride in his
watching me.

Under the tutleage of Samir I was off to Petra.  It turned out to be the two of
us in his car. I will only say about Petra, everyone should see this ancient
city once in their lifetime.  In the evening we were at a home belonging to
Samir's family for their recreational use.  It was fully staffed and no other
family was there that night.  After arriving I was shown to my room and had a
long shower.  Laid out for me were robes and sandals and I eagerly dressed in
them.

Away from watchful eyes drinking wine seemed to be OK for Samir and it sure was
for me, too.  This turned out to be a long and leisurely evening for the two of
us.  As we drank wine we ate almonds and figs and little meat pies.  At dinner
we had lamb and many other dishes.  Just the two of us dressed alike sitting
across from each other.  Samir asked me many questions of my future plans, my
life's history, and took a detailed interest in me I found mysterious and
intoxicating.  LAte in the evening we both were stretched on the floor resting
on pillows and listening to Samir's favorite music - Bossa Nova.  He had this
amazing collection of Brazilian music and delighted introducing me to singers
and musicians I did not know.

I was wearing my underwar beneath my abaya and Samir noticed.  "Cody, did you
know Jordanian men wear nothing under their robes?"  I was feeling no pain from
the wine and couldn't think of any response.  Samir got up and stood in front
of me.  The lamp behind him shown through the linen of his abaya and I could
definitely see Samir's manhood.  Certainly not all of it and not clearly.  Yet
it was there and visible to me. Samir was not talking to me and continued to
stand there.  I wanted to avert my eyes and couldn't.  Samir leaned down to me
and quietly said, "When in Rome."  Maybe the wine made it easy, maybe it was
Samir's instensity, or a combination, as natural as if I had been doing this
all my life, I raised my hips off the floor and pulled down my shorts.  Samir
took them of my feet and laughing held them up high.

"Let us talk, you and I, Cody," and Samir reached down pulling me up.  Samir
led me down a long corridor and up a narrow stair case to a seculded roof top
garden.  The moon lit a magical scene in front of us.  It was the desert and
not like any desert I had seen.  Everywhere I looked were huge rocks, boulders
I guess, thrown about on the sand startling in their size and random placement.
This aerie included benches and chairs and tables.  I stood at the waist high
glass wall lookng at this sight; Samir moved in next to me.  The heat from his
body came through his robe and warmed my side.  His body now rested next to
mine when he spoke.

Samir told me of the centuries old practice throughout the Arab world of older
men taking on young men, boys really, as mentees.  The older men would be
friends of the boys family, respected members of the community, married with
children.  They offered their mentees knowledge, access to people of position,
instruction in poliics and life.  Often times these relationships had a
physical aspect to them, never spoken of and tacitly understood by all.  When
the young man became old enough to marry, the relationship ended.  It was then
I first heard of the famous city of today's news "Kandahar."  Samir told me of
Kandahar and its widespread practice of this mentoring which had come to an
abrupt end during the Russian war and subsequent revolution.

As we talked of our being together for the next few months it all seemed
possible to me.  I felt my family would be excited to think I could "intern"
(as Samir put it) for his family.  I would have a very rare opportunity for a
Westerner to be in the daily life of a Jordanian.  I felt hypnotized by his
voice, by the vista.  I knew I wanted to do this and inside me I knew it was
more than was being spoken.  I wanted it to be more.  I felt ready.  Samir was
handsome, smart and seemed attentive to me and I thought really enjoyed my
companionship.  I was flattered and willing to be for him what ever it was he
wanted.

Silence enveloped us for a minute or two.  Silence has never bothered me.  I
have never felt a need to fill it.  Samir commented on it and asked what I was
thinking.  I told him the truth.  I wanted this to happen and that is all I was
thinking.  Samir asked me if I understood the private nature of our new
relationship.  Yes, I thought so.  And, it was at that moment when Samir turned
to face me, took my face in his hands and kissed both of my cheeks.  Stepping
closer to each other I felt for the first time Samir's hardness pressing
against me.  The hardness of his body and the hardness of his manhood.