One of the neat perks of working for Habitat for Humanity is that they give staff members a few weeks every year to go and work with any team in the entire world and it doesn’t count against PTO or sick leave.

It’s called the Global Build program and there are only two real perimeters to participate. First, the receiving team has to be accepting visiting staff and second, you have to get yourself there. This was a no-brainer for me. After researching open teams, I landed on Habitat for Humanity, Middle East and made plans to head to Amman, Jordan where they are based. There were a few meetings via skype with the local team in advance to prep and learn more about their specific needs. I had no idea.

My flight pattern was CLT>JFK>FRA>AMM. When I arrived at the gate in Frankfurt to board the final leg of my journey, I noticed that I was the only women without a head covering. I was also the only women who wasn’t accompanied by a man.

The plane landed a little after 1:00am local time and my luggage did not. This had never happened to me before and I was nervous and exhausted. Practically empty handed, I walked out of the airport around 2:00am. There waiting was Maḥmūd, my local Habitat counterpart. He was there to personally escort me to my accommodations. Others had traveled to work on this specific build as well and we were sharing a room. I only had the bare-bones basics in my backpack, not even a phone charger. Rookie move.

Our first team meeting was scheduled for 8:00am. Right before going to bed, I scribbled a note and taped it to the bathroom mirror for my suitemates who were sound asleep.

“Hi! My luggage was lost and my cell phone is dead. Will someone please wake me in time for our meeting? Thanks, looking forward to working together!”

As I fell into bed just before dawn, I heard the call prayer blasted into the city streets.

Squinty eyed, I woke and met Nina and Brie. Nina was from New York City and Brie was from Seattle. While I was still sleeping, they sized me up and determined what they each could share to ensure that I had everything I needed. Women were required to be covered from our neck to our ankles. Adhering to the dress code required creativity in heat that was over one hundred degrees. Their generosity set a precedence for the entire trip, I lacked for nothing.

Upon arriving in Jordan, I heard “ahlan wa sahlan” (which means “welcome”) on a regular basis. Though hospitality and generosity are associated with many people and places, these characteristics are ingrained in Jordanian culture.

Due to the heat, we took to sleeping on the rooftop. Meetings were full of laughter and very sweet, very strong black tea. Hours were spent bending rebar and mixing cement and carrying cinder block. I was stronger than I thought I was. Meals were shared while sitting on pillows on the floor in a circle and were prepared by woman who lived in the neighborhood. After daily expressions of delight from our team and so many questions, they offered to allow us into the kitchen for some basic lessons on Jordanian cuisine. Given that we didn’t speak Arabic and they didn’t speak English, our communication was mostly gestures and smiles and endless patience on their part.

We had a couple of days to be tourists. We visited Petra, bought soap and oil at local olive farm, and floated in the Dead Sea. To say this trip changed me is an understatement. I am aware that this may be trite or insensitive. Who was I, some white, middle class, American assuming I could offer any real assistance? Having arrived literally empty handed, wide-eyed, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of their culture and it’s exotic sounds and smells, perplexed to witness arranged marriages that were clearly full of passion and respect.

I worked for Habitat several years ago at this point, but they remain an organization I feel a deep connection to. This time exposed me to communities and cultures abroad and in my own backyard that I never would have encountered or pursued. There is a lump in my throat as I type this. Some shame and slight embarrassment in how sheltered I remain and how comfortable I desire to be.

Travel does this, relationships do this. There is a mirror and a humility that comes with both.

Note: my luggage finally arrived ten days into my trip and I was able to dole out shirts and socks and scarves. It meant something to me to extend hospitality in return. Life presents life, grace begets grace, and embracing that there really is enough to go around. Here recently I have needed this reminder. Layoffs have brought a much heavier work load as well as pay-cuts, vacations have been canceled, and an overall absence of “normal” is palatable. I have felt quite entitled and downright bratty in some of this. Typing out these memories reorients me to the place I most want to live out of. Authentic, hospitality and embracing what is and what isn’t in my control.