So I left my Tel Aviv bubble and went to a four-day workshop for Palestinian and Israeli journalists in Amman. It was an incredibly intense, emotionally exhausting experience and I'm having a lot of trouble sorting out my thoughts. Writing about those four days is hard. I met some amazing people, though...

Here's one little anecdote - and I'll write more tomorrow.

On the evening of the second day I was wandering the streets of Abdoun, an upper class area of luxurious villas, restaurants and coffee shops, with a bunch of Israelis. We were speaking Hebrew rather loudly, and stopping occasionally to look in shops and kiosks. People asked us where we were from, and we told them cheerfully, "Israel." They smiled and said "welcome," and we all felt excited about being in this Arab capital, getting along with the locals and building bridges and all that.

Then three Jordanian security officers beckoned us over to their official vehicle and asked, "Did you just say that you were from Israel?" Yes, we said. "Listen," they said, "For your own safety, do not tell anyone you are Israeli and stop speaking Hebrew on the streets. From now on, you are Germans. We are telling you this for your own good. It's dangerous for you here."