TheJessicaness

Salty Lamb in Jordan

Posted on April 7, 2015 by TheJessicaness

riding into Petra

I wake up after getting less than six hours of sleep and Julie has already eaten and plans to ride a carriage to the Treasury. I went to the toilet and thought about my options and food was first on the list. I sat at a table and ate my red and yellow selection (eggs, tomato, bread with jam, yogurt, and cereal with apple) and then walked to Petra to try the day after last night. I bought a 50 JD ticket, a discount for staying overnight, with three hours to enjoy it. Included, is a horse ride to the entrance of the Siq, and a free guide.

I’m hesitant at first for any distraction, but I figure it’s only part of the way, so… I took the ride and my guide, Ahmed, with the belief that I’d travel down past some dirt and rocks and then leave him to take a thousand photos of whatever beauty lay behind my eyesight last night. Like everywhere else in the world, pictures and people’s descriptions don’t do it justice. I’m in awe of the city that has been carved into the rocks – what did I think the luminaries were on last night – and I get to see part of it while on a horse.

skull-rock waypoint

Ahmed, convinced I wasn’t a regular tourist, wanted me to see Petra from another angle – and I thought that’s what he was doing. He said I was hard to convince (a man taking a woman alone off the trail), but he got me into the mountains – and I’m so grateful for his persistence and seeing the adventurer in me. I could’ve trudged through the crowd, like most places when that’s the only option, but for those seeking something more – leave your horse and step into the trees. The path will appear and the excitement grows.

He ensured me that I would see the Treasury and more. While the others marched between the sandstone, I’d be climbing on top of it allowing me a vantage point down into the canyon and up to Jabal Haroun (Aaron’s Mountain) in the distance. I took pictures of plants, living and dead, along with rocks and their shadows, as if I was a scientist and would use these in a lab later – and I suppose in a way I am, as they help me recall the cool of the air on a hot day and the weird sense of being in the middle of a powerful trading junction some 2,000 years ago that’s now concerned with the removal of historic artifacts, the education of its children, and the welfare of its animals.

Batman visiting the ruins

Some turns I would’ve been lost, but others are marked with cairns, steps, or worn trails if not over the flat rock, but I feel as if Ahmed could walk this in the dark. Jordan has left the park ‘open’ (if you can find the local entrance) and only charges its residents, over age 15, 1 JD per day to enter because 1) they’re making enough money off tourists, and 2) it is part of their heritage and they feel they have a right to it. I’d say we should do the same in the States, but maybe we don’t know the value of our history and natural beauty.

I’ve told Ahmed that I’ve got three hours, so he is constantly checking the time, and when I’m winded we have time for him to point out details and take my picture, but when I start to slow we must move to make time – and he’s sad that I don’t have the day to hike other trails and come back tomorrow and see more of the park – me and him both. We get to the top, the opening, the field; and there are carvings and etched script, a brown dog, red and purple poppies, and other people. I’m happy to know I’m not the only one who wants to see things differently, but I’m also grateful when we leave them behind with their arms and legs showing, and loud shoes.

this is Red Rose City

Ahmed picks up a rock and scratches it and then rubs it on me – local makeup. I should’ve kept it, but acquiring water from a man on a donkey would cause me to change priorities. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was until he stopped him, then I was grateful and offered to share, but he said I needed it more. I got to see the Roman Theatre, that may blend in with the surrounding Red Rose City from this perspective, but the people, along with the roads and modern buildings show how large the structure really is – with 4,000 to 8,000 seats.

Next, is looking at the top of tourist’s heads in the canyon, as I’m on the rock that makes up Al Khazneh (The Treasury). I can look across at the Bedouin tents with solar panels and the hikers on the other side so they can see the carving ahead of them, but I don’t have time for all the steps, and hours, needed. We stop in a tent for a bottle of water – this one I pay for. Ahmed asks the guy to take some pictures of us together, especially after he puts his keffiyeh on me, which I still have. Then the water man tries to sell me an old Roman coin for 50 JD – which might be fake, stolen, overpriced – and I’m not a collector.

man playing a fiddle-like instrument

The steps that most people don’t want to bother with are the ones I‘m able to come down easily. I pass donkeys and the man sweeping their poop into the canyon; the women selling jewelry and magnets; and the tourists with their cameras, wide-brimmed hats, and water. I don’t blame a donkey for taking a nap between the rock and shrubbery. He is trained to carry people up the stairs and then returns alone for his next trip where he provides shade for dogs and their people while he waits. I would be hiding too.

I get to look at the grandeur of the place while trying to spot the details among the shade while a girl, with her family, whom he’d given a tour to yesterday was there and greeted him with candy for his daughters – the ones he doesn’t have, so we shared. He told me he was getting married, but that might also be a ruse. I don’t blame him for milking us tourists for what we’re worth, because it isn’t his imaginary family that helped me enjoy my time, but his kindness and knowledge.

the tourist photo

There are camels to ride, musicians to listen to, and gardens to spot in high crevices among the already rich gathering of colored stone – something that could inspire the great artists from 1860 to 1970, like Monet and Richter – which led me to this music video. I think all the hiking and sightseeing before the Treasury came into view lessened the excitement (just as seeing Half Dome is diminished after witnessing the awe-inspiring place that is Yosemite), but it’s these postcard images that make a place important enough to preserve, so that others may come and appreciate the rest.

I get my picture taken in front of the Treasury, along with the costumed guards, children, and camels. Ahmed is good about taking photos of me throughout our hike and offered his hand on slippery sections to keep me from falling. He joked that he would give me 1,000 camels to marry him, but in all seriousness that’s a $700k to 15 million dollar offer that would leave Caleb as my new brother as we traveled the world – riding, eating, racing, and selling camels.

Siq perspective

The walk back through the Siq is very different in the daytime. The candles and stars have been replaced by loud horse carriages in a hurry and an old lady living in the moment with a better grasp of how little time we have. We’re both enjoying the details of what surrounds us – breaking the view into pieces that our minds can digest, as trying to take in the blend of nature’s art and man’s work can be overwhelming.

Coming out the other side, I got a photo with the guards and then rode another horse back to the entrance. I told Julie I would meet her at the room at 11:30 am, though I didn’t need to be there till noon, so I stopped by to see Abdallah. He was laying on the floor, hung over from last night. I went to the father/son shop to get a discount on water and since they’d gone home I got a small one for free.

Montreal Castle

Ahmed followed me to the hotel because he wanted to take me to Wadi Musa Spring and said he’d wait outside while we checked out. Julie offered me a falafel she’d gotten from Abdallah that I ate while she finished packing. She came outside and was ready to leave. I bid Ahmed goodbye. He gave me his number and I gave him the 30 JD we agreed on. There are guides you can book online, companies you can go through, or haggling to be done – though I know I still overpaid, I got a good deal today.

As we got to the city limits, Julie changed her mind about seeing that spring, so we looked for it with no luck and no help from the police who don’t speak English. We drove out of the city for the second time that day and made our way to Montreal Castle, built by Baldwin I of Jerusalem in 1115 and renovated in the 14th century by the Mamelukes – slaves of the king, considered to be true warriors that would go on to carry positions of power – and who were responsible for ending the Crusades in 1291.

tower with a stone inscription

We looked inside the museum and then Julie chose to sit in the coffee shop while I walked up the road past one of the stone towers with Arabic inscription and the guard selling old coins – one of a soldier with thick hair and a prominent nose. I sign into the guestbook and am greeted by my tour guide, Thallal, who will use sticks and plant stems that were laying around to turn his torchlight (aka flashlight) on and off as we go from bright outside to peering into dark corners inside. He took me up to the edge of the castle so that I could yell into the canyon, “ECHO!”

He showed me the wine-press made into a sugar press when the Muslims took over, the safe in the floor where they stored gold, and the 365 slippery and crumbling steps to the well (we only did twenty). He pointed out where they could hang up to three people at a time, where the Arabic school was, and the market that sold jewelry and spices. There was a room with cannonballs and reliefs and we sat down, with me in the queen’s throne, and enjoyed the sun through the skylight. The castle might not look that spacious from a distance, but the builders took advantage of the mountain.

a lot of stonework inside the castle

I tipped Thallal 2 JD for his efforts of translation and kindness. On my way down the hill, I yelled into the canyon again. Julie had bought some spices that she looks forward to sharing over a meal in Bahrain. Inside they have currency from Mexico, Australia, South Africa, Malaysia, India, Venezuela, and Cuba. They also have one qirsh – the smallest denomination of Jordanian currency.

I drove us through the mountains in search of the Dead Sea. We stopped somewhere for the view at 2:50 pm and these two guys, parked there, kept saying something about the Dana Reserve. I took a photo with one of them and he got a different reaction from Julie when he tried putting his arm around her. We stopped 30 minutes later at Alhala Restaurant in Tafila. Julie felt we were in the middle of nowhere, as most places are in the desert, and wondered where their business comes from – over 80,000 residents and 50,000 travelers – thanks to Dana Reserve and the hot springs in the governorate.

lotsa rocks

We paid 1 JD for a long shawarma with fries, tomatoes, and cucumbers, eaten off a Sports Authority tray. The staff showed us the large in-ground pots outside where they cook 100 chickens at once and told us that a shawarma stick can hold 200 chickens. We thanked them and got back on the road – and watched the hills go from green to brown to lake – as if the grass had melted into a pool.

We first saw water on the horizon at 5:13pm and passed a sign for sea level at 5:20pm and thought we were getting closer to the Dead Sea – around the next bend, past the herd of goats, and the goodbye sign from the Municipality of Al Aghwar Al Janubiyya – and there’s just more road going along. I stopped on the shoulder for pictures of the sun on the water in front of us and the rocks behind us.

Dead Sea coastline

We stopped by Wadi Mujib’s dam (the exit of Jordan’s Grand Canyon – and the lowest nature reserve) for a picture or ten. We get approached by another friendly Jordanian and Julie says (paraphrasing), “thanks, but I gotta pee!” We follow Mohamed, over the cliff of no returns, to his chalet that he stays in while building the rest of the resort, so Julie can experience release. I was going to wait in the car, but the hanging wet clothes with the promise of water has me and the camera out on the prowl.

I ask our host if we can go for a swim and he suggests (also paraphrasing), “fewer clothes means more sea on you”. I told him I planned on changing into a swimsuit, and he waited, and then helped us down the rocky embankment. I’d seen what I thought was a wooden staircase to the beach – it’s not. Julie panics and I lighten the situation by telling her to cry it out so I don’t have to cry about my mom – she gets in the water. Luckily, she’s brought a waterproof camera. I leave mine with Mohamed.

Dead Sea cliffs

I walk into the water and am questioning my ability to float. Julie tells me to lift my legs and there is instant buoyancy. I think how great this is – not standing on inches of sharp salt that has accumulated on the rocks and I start to roll over until I get salt in my face holes – don’t do that! In the mess of things I somehow manage to get a salt jab to the derriere and this causes me to lay back and float – and take selfies with Julie as we’ve accomplished another bucket list item.

Meanwhile, Mohamed has scraped up mud along the coast to cover us with. I go up first and he tries the same trick, “less swimsuit means more mud on you”. I tell him I’m fine leaving my bits covered. He already has more access to my body than any other man has had in years (I think couples massage 2009). He starts with my arms and I’m quickly transformed as Julie documents the process so Caleb can see as Mohamed makes me go from peach to black minus hands and feet.

incomplete boardwalk to the Dead Sea

He starts on Julie and then we’re told to stand there and let it dry for maximum effect. I wait ten minutes and then wash off so I can capture the living colors around me as the sun sets at 7 pm and Mohamed is eager to get us out of the water before dark – a Middle East thing about borders, bodies, drugs, etc. I followed him on the rocks to a spot that would be easier for Julie to climb back up as she bobbed along in the water. I’m surprised more people haven’t turned their pools or spare tubs into mini dead seas as I now plan to do.

Ten minutes later we were having ‘tea by the sea’ (hashtag) with a chunk of salt on the table that I picked up and Mohamed’s quiet friend. It was a wonderful moment, but over quickly as it would be slow going in the mountains with our brights on and lack of lane lines to follow. I was able to pick up the pace once we hit the city street lights. We went back to Dana’s so Julie could shower and I took selfies of my salty-muddy self at 8:40 pm before letting her have the bathroom. I washed my face, hands, and feet. I could see the salt in my hair and feel it on my jeans.

floating in the Dead Sea

It’s 9:15 pm before we leave the house. We go to the sheesha place so Julie can use their wi-fi to do homework while I play Tarneeb with Sara and Waleed – who will teach me the suits: cupa and dīnārī; and how to say, ‘How’re you?’ in Arabic: kayfa ḥālik? I want to try mansaf for dinner and they know just the place, but while Julie finishes her chat she gets two orders of cheese sticks and some garlic bread, so I order a bowl of booza (mastic Arabic ice cream with salep to slow the melting process) which is sticky with pistachios and chocolate syrup. I’m given four scoops, enough for the table, but they let me relish in this cold sweet at a dinar per scoop plus 0.5 JD for toppings.

We leave the sheesha place at 11pm and Waleed drives our rental car. Julie has been looking forward to this so that he can call the company and complain about the crap condition of their vehicle. He tries to ask the guy if he would let his wife or daughter drive this and the guy argues that he’d be driving, but we’re assured that we will be getting a different car or a refund – which is up to Julie.

this is mansaf

Sara orders two servings of mansaf – which is a bowl of bread and rice (nuts extra) and another bowl with lamb and yogurt as one portion. Julie is busying herself getting a slice of chocolate mousse cake and strawberry cheesecake. Sara pays for dinner at 11:45 pm. Waleed is right; this is filling. I finish the meat and half the rice and get the rest for take away to save room for dessert.

Waleed brings two kinds of kanafeh – an Arabic sweet with cheese, to the table – one with crunchy vermicelli and one that’s spongy, both with pistachios. I start getting sleepy. We drop Sara off at her place at 12:50 am, then Waleed drives us back to the sheesha place so he can walk home. Julie moves from the passenger seat, so I stay in the back and sleep while she drives us back to Dana’s. I don’t know how lost she got, but we didn’t get there till 2 am and I still needed to shower. I went to bed with wet hair to wake up with.

Posted in Animals, Art, Education, Food, Friends, Hiking, History, Music, People, Photography, Travel, Water | Tagged castle, Dead Sea, Jordan, mansaf, Petra, vacation | 2 Comments

Rum, Wine, Beer, and Whiskey

Posted on April 6, 2015 by TheJessicaness

Oh, give me a home where the camel graze… and I’ll play in the sun all day

I wake up at 1:00 am, and even with Julie snoring, am able to go back to sleep until 8:30 when she wakes me at My Hotel. We go upstairs to enjoy a meal from the buffet by the window, but not before taking in the view of the city surrounded by mountains and ocean from the pool area. I feel lucky to have pita with yogurt and honey, along with pound cake and French bread, to carb-start my day before making our way to Wadi Rum (aka Valley of the Moon).

Jordan’s ‘American Alley’ consists of KFC, Pizza Hut, Popeyes, and Burger King. There are a few metal art installations and lots of planted trees along the road and in the roundabouts, and then… the giant wooden fish that seems to be eating one of his scales. I want to stop and hike in the mountains, pet the goats that are eating rocks, and ride the camels grazing in the field; but that’s the traveler in me that prefers to explore without time restraints, boundary laws, and property rights – at least when it comes to animals.

Journey Through 1916 at the Wadi Rum Station

I pause at the railroad crossing to take in the view (or look cautiously for the train that could come speeding around the blind corner) and admire the sign of the little engine with its big puff of smoke (which seems entirely possible that the train would overheat in this region). Ten minutes down the road appears what could be a radio station or an active train depot – if it wasn’t for the rusted boxcars and the 1916 sign making it more like a museum or an interactive site to travel through time. But again, no time to stray from the semi-planned itinerary.

It’s only another 15 minutes, past the mountains that go from looking like stacked papers to shelved books, to the visitor center main entrance. There’s a large sign with the option of a vehicle or camel tour with distance, time, and price listed beside each choice. Our guide, the man who called dibs on us, is ready to waive the entrance fees if we will hire him. Julie tells him to back off before she gets bitchy, and we go into the pricey coldstore to buy a large water each and a Connection for me – a Snickers/Musketeers combo, while we discuss our plans; she doesn’t want to be late for Petra by Night.

me on a dromedary in the desert

We agree to meet our guide in Rum Village at 11:00 am where the restaurant and camel rides are, and the tours begin. This park reminds me of Canada’s parks in the sense that they are unpaved with little proof or signage of their existence, so the guide is here to wait for us to return from short trips within the vast expanse of desert path that we have chosen – looking out for the safety of the park and its visitors to Middle Eastern standards.

I see a camel and an opportunity to experience the ‘stand and sit’ before we start. The guide calls the owner over and I’m on the hump taking selfies. There’s a lot of padding and even a handle on the seat and I imagine what it would be like to ride a camel through the desert, especially if he got in the mood to run, which is why they have guides walking them with harnesses. I’ve been on a running horse on a small farm, but I’m sure a camel doing the same thing here would alter my dream to the extreme; of course, this will remain an item on my bucket list.

camel option through Wadi Rum vs. 4WD that we took

Julie regrets not riding an elephant in Angkor Wat and doesn’t want to feel the same way about Jordan, so over she goes. It’s funny to watch her throw her short leg over and then scream when the camel goes to sit as she thinks she will fall – hence why the men stand nearby as it’s a common occurrence. The men tried to hide their chuckles, but I laughed out loud and continued to do so on the way to the tour truck.

With a good laugh out of the way, we’re ready to start the tour at an agreed price of 40 JD. It was 35 when we left the visitor center, but we can appreciate the even number with the agreement that we get at least two hours and some cash towards the camel guy. The guide puts two cushions in the back and we’re grateful as we hit the bumps of the road and the rocks and sand of the desert. I thought Jordan would be flat with Petra hidden in the middle, but this country is full of mountains, sand dunes, deserts, farmland, trees, cliff sides, and water – it’s beautiful.

view from natural springs trail – not the top

Our first stop is a natural spring. Our guide has the option to sit in his truck, sit in the shade of the tent selling things to tourists, or to join us. He goes with the first and I begin to wander and then to climb, not as high as the man who made it to the small spring surrounded by plenty of lizards out enjoying the cool weather, but high enough to get a better view of the valley below, and to see a lizard rock hopping. We make our way back to the truck with Julie’s new 10 JD keffiyeh on her head to help shade her from the sun. I put my hoodie up to protect my neck since the hat that I brought, for this reason, is smashed inside my bag that’s packed in the trunk of the rental.

Our next stop is a single dune on top of a rocky hill. Our driver has to back up and try again (more gas pedal) to get us parked by the others that are on their way as we pull up. I enjoy feeling the soft sand on my toes until it starts to burn. I put my sandals back on until I make it to the crest where I can dig my feet into the cool below while I take a panorama before we head to a canyon. Julie starts to explore as I go the way another woman has just come – the toilet direction. I think I find a good spot until I look up and can see the camp. I go down further between rocks and find other patches of wet sand where others haven’t ever seen a cat pee.

the lone dune

We go up the stairs, stones and clay, on the rock and into the canyon. We tiptoe the edge; along with the other people covered in hats, cameras, bags; past the water to get in further. This is where the angles are: the smooth lines and deep crevices; the sharp edges and soft water; and the bright sun contrasting the petroglyphs on their canvas. The next pool is an unknown depth and we’re not ready to swim, so we take some more pictures – of the canyon and ourselves before going back to camp where I hear one guide describing the local attire and watch another apply a burqa to a woman to aid in his explanation. We sit along the wall and have tea, mine with no sugar.

The boy sitting next to me, definitely a teenager, has beautiful eyes, as most Jordanians do. I ask for a picture and he asks for money. Our guide tells me to kiss him on the cheek and he shies away – not that I would’ve done it unless I was guaranteed the picture for proof. He went un-kissed and un-photographed and we were on our way to the temple, or what’s left of it. The guide had told us we have time for one of the bridges, but wouldn’t tell us how long that would take and wanted an extra 5 dinars each, so we headed back to town.

the tea maker in camp

I wouldn’t walk on a historical wall in the States, but here there are rocks positioned just for that, at least that’s what it looks like to me with the footprints for added proof. I go in to inspect the rocks and crevices and Julie goes the other way to see what she can find. We meet back at the truck and our driver sits up – what a job he has. Perhaps if we were sitting in front we would get more info about the area, but that’s not happening. He drops us back to the car and we give him 20 JD each.

Our guide offered to take us to lunch. We said no thanks at the same time. We are very capable of finding food and don’t need to pay for assistance. There is a restaurant across the street, but we will be making our way north to get to Petra before dark. I’m excited and my foot heavy. We’re making great time flying down this smooth section of road sans speed bumps which Jordan is famous for – at least for surprising us since most are unmarked and Julie was unaware of what the sign meant.

temple ruins

I see the sign for the railroad tracks – the ones with a stop sign because there is a sharp turn for the train and no bars or horns to warn you otherwise of its approach. We stopped on the way down and took a picture from the window. This time the picture will be of the flat tire I get us at 1:30 pm after we crash down on the other side. I’d like to blame this on the shit condition of the car – bumper falling off, two bald tires in front, and the headlights pointing down because they’re loose, but the damage is from the scratched rim poking a hole – way to go Jess.

Even though I know how to change a tire I’m quick to throw my hand in the air at the truck following behind us. The passenger is kicked out to help us while his friend drives on. He’s quick to put the donut on only to realize that it has as many cracks in it as the road does and we’ll soon have another flat. He rides into town with us and directs us to a garage. We are charged 50 dinars ($70) for tire and services, which might be considered a great deal in the States, but it’s an overcharge here. All Julie and I can think of as we drive away is that we should’ve gotten a receipt for reimbursement from the rental company.

I’ll eat while he works and Julie photographs

Julie will take over driving for a while. We need the other tire to last. At 2:45 pm we stop at a Petra gift shop where the owner tells me everything is handmade and some of their costs are paid for by US AID, so since we’re Americans we can get things 25% off. As grateful as I am I have no need for tacky magnets, rusty locks, shiny lamps, large bags, and plenty of other displayable items that I have no shelf for. Julie does find something nice though in the blue color she loves and after enjoying a glass of tea we’re back on the road.

I thought Petra was just the Treasury hidden in a butte in the middle of the desert, but I was wrong. There is a shopping village and beautiful mountain range in the town of Wadi Musa (the water from the opposing mountain in the distance – 14 km hike). It’s a long way down to the valley, past the entrance to Petra, and up the hill behind Movenpick (that was booked, regardless of our coupon) to the La Maison behind.

road to Petra

We check-in to room G-08, and buy our 17 dinar tickets for Petra by Night. I’m eager to see it, but it’s 4:30 pm now and the site closes at 7 pm so they can set up the candles for the reopening at 8:30 pm. That would be a lot of walking (but as anyone who has been knows, it’s definitely worth it) or running (and I don’t want to rush). I will check out the town after I put my bag in the room and head out with a phone, camera, and cash. We can leave the key with the front desk and I leave the car keys with Julie.

I walk down the hill, past the purple and yellow flowers, to the shops. I’m stopped by a curious guy who offers me a free lemon popsicle and some conversation with him and his son. They want to take me to dinner and I tell them it has to be before 7:30, pre-Petra, or at 10:30, post-Petra, but he says that’s too late. I head to the visitor center to see what the museum has – lots of pottery, busts, and information about the Nabataeans – and their women being equal to men in society. I inquire at the desk and the site opens at 6am – enough time to explore before we have to leave tomorrow.

this camel smoked too much sheesha

Outside, I’m stopped by Abdallah who wants to talk and offers to buy me a drink at Guest House Hotel. I ask for a local white wine and am brought a glass while he drinks his whiskey from a paper cup. I’m eager to get outside and see things, not sit inside, but I tell him the story of the boy with the beautiful eyes, so we go into his shop and I let him put kohl on my eyes – to help bring out the color. He put it on lightly and then another guy applied a second coat.

We were on our way in search of Petra Beer, at 8 and 10% ABV (with no need for the 13%), at 6 pm. It’s also something new for me to try, and something I don’t usually do – drink on vacation. We happened upon his friend Mohamed who was traveling with an Israeli singer who he just met outside the entrance of Petra as well, and walked with her to the Treasury. They were glad to join us as we stopped at one place and then took to the village hills to find the beer at Valentine Inn where they have a 15 dinar Turkish bath for hotel guests; along with Wadi Rum tours, dinner buffets, movie nights, and a midnight curfew – popular in the Middle East for hotels and women under 25.

me with kohl on my eyes in Petra

In keeping with my mood to stay outside we decided on a hill overlooking the city to watch the sunset. It was absolutely amazing to be sharing this moment with these people. The girls had a beer, me what was left of mine after I foamed it up, and the guys whiskey with apple juice – a yummy combo. The sun went behind dark clouds and soon the mountains. After 7 pm, the Maghrib (place where the sun sets) prayer filled the canyon with amazing sound. Then it was time to pee. The singer went behind the large rock and Abdallah showed me some sage growing on the rocks (perhaps something to wipe with) before I found another rock. I went to take a picture of the piece he picked and he said why not get the whole plant… sage advice.

I told the group that I would meet Julie at 7:30 and that they were welcome at our hotel’s happy hour from 7:30 to 8:30. On the way to the hotel, and popular in Jordan, I noticed that taxi drivers have their inner lights on when there’s a passenger. I don’t know if this is to make the customer feel safer or to let people hailing cabs know that this one is taken, as there are legal debates all over the States as to the amount of distraction with lights inside the car and to their legality of use at night.

sunset over the valley

At La Maison, Julie had tried to see the top floor and been denied, something about renovations. Abdallah talked with a guy and they opened up the balcony for us – and the bar. I drank a beer with them; then Julie and I walked down the hill and said we’d see them at 10:30 pm. We started walking along the luminaries at 8:30 and I could hear crunching rocks and foreign languages. I could tell we were heading into a canyon as the lights started to grow on the shadows around us – placed in holes and on steps, but I couldn’t see anything else but the dirt around the bags and lights in the distance that soon faded as we made our way into the park and away from the city.

I appreciate a park being open after dark, with the advantage of a different perspective, even if it is a separate entrance fee. I know we’ve reached the Treasury by the 200 candles lit up on the stairs – and I’m gauging how long this will take me to see in the morning when I can take more photos if it takes 30 minutes before the light of the moon has had time to join us down here – how deep are we?

Petra by Night luminaries

The 300 people are led in to sit on the stairs behind the candles, on the ground amongst them, and filling in the space between the steps in front of me and the wall behind me – like we’re in a topless cave. I stand in the back and listen as the flute player fills the canyon with sound before a man uses his voice with a rababa – a bowed instrument aka a spike fiddle – to do the same. I’m glad people are willing to watch with their eyes and not their phones. I watch the cats weave around the candles that cast light enough to cause curiosity, but not to fulfill it.

There are men carrying trays of tea glasses and as soon as Julie gets hers at 9:30 I squat beside her. This is great for the peaceful ambiance, but I want to experience the canyon without all the people, and now is the time. We walk back and are slowly joined by others passing us. The moon and stars are beautiful, the shadows playful, and the area more magical, mysterious, and spacious. It sedates my feet and quickens my heart. I have to come back.

old man with his oud

I get to the lift of our hotel at 10:30 as the group is coming down. They were done waiting on us, and Julie had gone down the street to get a soda. I said I’d be back for her in our car or theirs. We called out to her and she ignored us at first, as usual catcallers that know her by name, and then we were able to convince her to cross the street and get in. At 11:15 pm we were back at Valentine Inn getting beers and ice, and an old man was kind enough to sing for me while playing his oud – a paired-string instrument popular in East Africa and the Middle East aka an Arabic lute.

Julie was ready to go after dinner plans went from trying mansaf – a traditional Jordanian dish – to getting firewood for a BBQ. The guys loaded the wood into the back of the car, we dropped Julie back to the room, and made our way to Little Petra to cook in a cave – or a grotto-esque recess – about big enough for six to sleep with a fire, which we had going by 11:30 pm. We were joined by two other guys, one I recognized from earlier as we’d given him a ride, but they left before the food was ready.

city lights while fireside

We passed the time talking by the fire, dancing under the moonlight on the rocks, and the others singing their cultural songs. I feel bad now that I didn’t participate but I debated singing Twinkle, Twinkle or Old MacDonald or the Star Spangled Banner. There were half chickens with bread and I had two of them. I didn’t know I was that hungry. We put our trash on the fire before kicking the extra wood out to save for the next people, and then put the coals out. There’s a great view of the city lights from here and I appreciate the local perspective given to me by Abdallah and Mohamed who got me back to the room by 2 am. I woke Julie for a second just by coming into the room but was quick to change out of my smoky clothes and climb into bed for tomorrow.

Posted in Animals, Art, Education, Food, Friends, Hiking, History, Music, People, Photography, Travel, Water | Tagged alcohol, camel, desert, hotel, instruments, Jordan, luminaries, museum, Petra by Night, sunset, Wadi Rum | 2 Comments

To Aqaba, By Car, For Easter

Posted on April 5, 2015 by TheJessicaness

Abu Eisha Mosque

I was woken up in the middle of the night again by snoring and moved to the smaller couch in the living room this time. I had to get back up to shut the bedroom door because Julie had spit her CPAP out. She woke me after 9am, used my deodorant, and Dana, our generous hostess, left for work as we were leaving. She let us borrow her Beats by Dre speaker (but we’re missing a cable). I showed Dana part of the candle, from last night, and she apologised to me. I grabbed the leftover shawarma from the fridge and got in the passenger seat. Julie gifts me a bag of chocolate Cadbury mini eggs – Happy Easter!

a mosque in the distance

Julie stopped for fresh shawarma, donuts, and juice. She makes four more stops looking for a cable. We’re on the road now and out of the city. I need to pay attention… to the flat landscape… and try to have a conversation with someone who doesn’t appreciate the view, or camels, or have patience. I see buildings with curved edges and broken tiles; chipped paint and bent fencing; tattered flags and wet laundry. I see red and black checkered painting; patches of yellow amongst the grass and dirt; and Arabic written in gray rocks on a brown hill.

driving down the highway

There are lots of roadside coffee shops and coldstores, some decorated and others just a box, and most with flashy lights for spotting at night. Jordan’s roads are the worst in the Middle East due to snow, which explains why drivers don’t mind using all the lanes and turn a two-lane into three. The first thing I noticed about Jordan was the purple flowers from the plane window when I arrived two days ago. There is no shortage of greenery here and people have potted plants in windows, doors, and on café tables and shelves; it’s lovely.

panoramic view of Karak Castle

I also noticed that Jordan has an excellent bus system where a person can stand anywhere, without a posted sign, and just flag the driver down for a ride. There are plenty of buses and it’s more efficient than in the U.S. that’s picky with its routes. I’m finding it more difficult everyday to want to move back, and it’s almost been a year here in the Middle East, so my time is short. If you don’t want to stand for the bus, there are plenty of places to sit – on low walls, benches, and steps where you’ll find plenty of people on their phones. The availability of cell signal out here is amazing – though I do love that about American deserts and mountains – cell phone silence, but out here you could cook to death – literally.

zoomed-in view of Karak Castle

While sitting in the car, I also notice the bruise on my right knee. I was in a rush to leave for the airport and caught myself falling up the stairs with it. I screamed and then froze in pain and though I was dragging it through the airport I’m not letting it slow me down. We stop at the Karak Castle Panorama (Light & Sound) at the upper observation site located 1040 meters up on the southeastern side of the city at noon. There is a restaurant, but we’re not hungry. And there is a guy taking in the view, but he’s not interested in talking with me as I go up some of the stairs for another angle.

stairs in Karak

In town, Julie sees an electronics store and parks alongside another car to run in. A guy pulls in front of us and motions for me to move behind him. I’m in the passenger seat and I’m not moving. Julie finds the cable she needs and after I get a passing photo of the carcasses outside of the kebab shop she decides to let me drive at 1:30 pm – too much sun and road makes her sleepy. Of course I take a selfie of my first time behind the wheel in Jordan. We stop for petrol at 2 pm and Julie wants the tires aired up to see if that will help with the uneven wear and bad alignment. We go next door where it looks part chop-shop, part horror film with all the random stuff on the walls, including Jack Nightmare complete with moustache and unibrow, and the kitten eating chunks from the dirt.

the rental car taking in the view

One guy checks the pressure and the other airs them accordingly. They charge us a dinar after I’d already reversed halfway back to the highway. I had asked if they wanted money first, and at least it was a fair price. Back on the road, and as the scenery changes I fall more in love with this country. It’s beautiful as it’s revealed to us each time around another corner. There’s so much texture and no fences, but my travel buddy says we have to make it to Aqaba today, not get arrested for trespassing or rescued from a cliff. As with all driving ventures, I keep my foot on the gas and appreciate that I’m not flying over it all.

roadside vegetation

I stop for panoramas to help keep myself from taking so many photos while driving (that have a high chance of turning out blurry or covered in reflections), but Julie doesn’t seem to mind as long as we’re not near a cliff; so I park us in a lot near one and we get out for selfies. There’s another car there with two guys and one wants his picture with us. I allow him to take one with his phone and then one with mine, but when he goes to put his arm either near or around Julie she tells him, No!

mysterious magical mountains

We enter the Aqaba Special Economic Zone at 3:15 pm and get waved through a tax declarations and emissions checkpoint two minutes later as the mountains come up around us. They’d been shadows in the distance and it’s nice to see the lines and colors change up close. We park near the marina next to the Tunisian Hammamet Gardens. As we’re walking in we’re joined by Mahmoud, just walking around, who wants to take beautiful me fishing and swimming tomorrow and perhaps to dinner tonight. I might’ve been ok with him, but he tried to tell us that we couldn’t look at the Red Sea from the direction we were headed, so we parted ways.

color changing mountains

We get offered a ride in a glass-bottom boat. I think it was 40 dinars for both for an hour, but the viewing area (about the size of a cabinet door) looked translucent – perhaps why the guys were in the cold water cleaning it. We could go out for two hours if we want to snorkel in the Red Sea, but not something Julie wants to do this ‘late’ in the evening or in this temperature. It seems I’m not the only one that thinks the water is cold.

driving into Aqaba

We go back to the sidewalk, around the dirt lot, and down the street to the beach where there are pebbles and water to put our feet in. I’m standing on a mini pier, a slab of concrete over the water, and I take a panorama. A boy in the water says no photos, so I point my camera at him and pretend to click. He tells me I’m mean and I say shukran. As I turned around he tells me to come closer. For a second I thought he might splash me, but I approached and he told me “I love you” and I smiled as I walked away. The people of Jordan really are sweet, even if Julie thinks they can be a bit much most of the time.

panorama of Aqaba beach with Saudi, Egypt, and Israel in the distance

panorama of the Red Sea with Saudi, Egypt, and Israel in the distance

We get our feet wet in the Red Sea and they collect shells and other collectibles. Jordan doesn’t have sandy beaches. We go to the W.C., a term coined in England in 1870 with the advent of indoor plumbing – the toilet replacing clothes in a closet as the smell of ammonia helped to deter fleas. It’s still a commonly used abbreviation in South America, parts of Germany, and in many Asian countries – and Jordan.

looking west to Israel

Julie rinsed her feet while I stood just inside the door, taking a photo, with the door open. A guy approaches asking for money for using the facilities. He points to a sign in Arabic and I see the number 15 and wonder who carries around change like that. Julie comes out and walks away. I tell the boy who follows us sorry as I show him my empty pockets. Perhaps had they asked for an amount instead of tourist money I would’ve been more obliging – and if they followed me to the car, but after the boy put his hands on my head (like a priest might do) he ran back to the other two.

looking south towards Saudi Arabia

We drove down the road looking for the other sites listed on the brown sign. We stopped near the tourist governorate sign where the tourist police booth is and tried to ask for directions. They don’t speak English, perhaps German or Spanish, or they are just here to arrest tourists – I’m not sure. They point us down the hill, and we only go that way to get the car to u-turn towards the ruins we saw – which just happen to be part of the Aqaba Castle. I ask how much at the entrance and the guy inside points us to the visitor center, with museum, that is closing in ten minutes at 5 pm.

walking along the beach of the Red Sea

The Jordan Rulers are on the wall and it looks like a 15 year-old boy with his 45 year-old dad and grandpa in charge at 65. It’s an old collection. King Hussein died in 1999 at age 63; his son, King Abdullah II is 53; and the heir to the throne is already 20. There’s a case of old steatite lamps that draws my attention because to me they look like part of a tea set. These variants of the Byzantine slipper lamp can also be found in Palestine and Egypt, but a cream ware, wheel-made lamp with a stubby conical spout can only be found in Aqaba.

a café at Movenpick

I should’ve asked if we could still buy tickets, but I walked towards the sun and a very tall flagpole – the fifth tallest in the world at 130 meters flying the flag of the Great Arab Revolt since 1916 that can be seen from Israel, Egypt, and Saudi. We stood for a moment and took in the view and then looked at a poster with the history of the flag. Over a thousand years ago and up to 1515, the flag changed between one of the four colors it is today, and at one point (570-630 A.D.) it was an inverted version of the current Saudi flag with just the inscription, no sword . The most common one flown is the Flag of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan since 1922 with the seven points star to represent the values of Jordan, as stated in the first surah in the Qur’an.

driving inland on the coast

We drive up the coast in search of Wi-Fi for Julie. We stopped at the Movenpick Hotel and used the large map on their wall to accomplish nothing, but got offered plenty of taxi rides while saying no and pointing to our car. I walk into Early Islāmic Ayla, with free entrance, and have a look around while Julie sits in the car. These ruins are evidence of the port that once flourished here during the Umayyad, Abbasid, and Fatimid periods, 661 – 1258 A.D.

Aqaba Castle

We find a shopping plaza and a man sitting outside helps narrow our three bar options to Rovers Return, an English pub. We sit in a shaded spot outside, overlooking Ayla with the Israeli mountains in the backdrop. We order a bottle of Mount Nebo Perlette Blanc Dry, for 22 JD, to sip our way into the sunset at 6:45 pm. Julie got chicken cordon blue with mashed potatoes and peas and asked for gravy. I ate the green veggie and was fine finishing leftovers. We would’ve sat longer, but the train carrying the fat and juices made a crash landing, and after stepping in it for the third time and wiping it off my shoe I pushed my chair back to get away from it – even if that meant blocking the waitress from the other tables.

Early Islamic Ayla

We had been waiting on change and instead of assisting us, the wait staff asked that I move – again. We went inside and asked for my money. They pulled out our receipt and handed me the three dinars. It’s a great spot for relaxation at sunset, but once the place gets busy the staff gets subpar and the customers rude – at least the woman behind us hating on the local culture. We left there at 8:30 pm and went to find our hotel room that we booked while eating, but not before walking to the South Kingdom Bazar at the end of the street where they sell magnets, lamps, jewelry, and plenty of Dead Sea products.

inside Rovers Return

We were in there for 45 minutes while the shopkeeper let us try every smell and texture – and when our noses were broken he brought out the coffee, but it didn’t help that our arms were covered in such a mix that it was buy or leave. I found a lotion and decided against the abdomen’s cracks cream, though I do like the exact description. I was excited when he brought out the bar of amber that I’ve been looking for ever since I smelled a waiter in a San Diego café. With our 20% off and buy-one-get-one, we also got free kohl and I got Julie’s that she didn’t want, I spent 10 JD. I tried telling the guy we live in Bahrain, but he didn’t understand me until I wrote it down. I was worried that him and the other guys didn’t know about the small island, but they just didn’t get my accent (#InternationalProblems).

view of Ayla and Red Sea from Rovers Return

We checked into My Hotel at 9:30 pm and I paid 47 JD for the room. After copies of our passports were made we grabbed our bags and stepped into the small elevator. I’m guessing homes and hotels come with assembly required furniture, because the two of us and our bags fill this tiny box. Upstairs, in room 414, is a shower door that accordions on two sides to meet in the corner. I’ll try it out while Julie unpacks and then I’ll Skype with Dad while she showers. Julie thinks my Dad and I have such a neat friendship that we can banter with each other. I’m grateful for technology that helps us keep in touch – even on the other side of the world. I’m tired, clean, and ready to rest for another day in Jordan.

sunset in Aqaba

Posted in Food, Friends, History, Holidays, People, Photography, Places, Plants, Travel, Water | Tagged Aqaba, beach, castle, hotel, Jordan, panorama, Red Sea | 3 Comments

Practicing Selfies by the Dead Sea

Posted on April 4, 2015 by TheJessicaness

Wi-Fi with SpongeDon AssPants

I woke up at 7 am to Julie’s snoring and me rolling over wouldn’t help so I shut the door on the room we were in and went to the couch till 10 am when she would wake me from her slumber of a Day. Neither of us wanted to shower or change outfits from yesterday since they were only worn in transit. Dana was already gone. We got on the highway and stopped at a shopping plaza with shawarma, donuts, and petrol. The guy asked what size we wanted and presented us with two pieces of bread that looked the same. We both got smalls.

heading south with donuts

We grabbed three donuts from the bakery and then went into a coldstore (mini mart with fridge/freezer) to look around – and I found Koto Moto: Men Genicare Gel. Not that I need any, or know anyone that does, but I would try these random products if it wasn’t for webpages filled with failed attempts of people braver than I. With our breakfast in hand, we drive over to the petrol station just to realize that all the money we saved on a room last night will be spent here. Julie told the attendant 6 dinars (thinking comparably to Bahrain – even though I told her that it’s six times as much here and it only takes 5 BD to fill my SUV).

closed for lunch

I paid that and she paid the other 20 JD when the attendant was done filling the tank after lots of hand signals and loud English expressed that we needed more gas. We’re back on the road and experiencing the spirit of this country’s driving. They treat the lanes and lines the same and seem to move like a choreographed Corvette scene in a Vegas film. Then there’s the random speed humps that cause me to lurch forward when Julie notices them or is forced to slow down due to the car in front of us. I don’t remember when I told her what the hump sign means. I figured she knew from driving in Bahrain…

open for lunch

We stop at McDonald’s, my first in the Middle East, and Julie buys water as a thank you for the wi-fi password. The thought crossed my mind for a second, but I wasn’t hungry and didn’t know if Jordan or McD’s won the laws on the freshness of their food. In America, whatever I got would go stale in minutes and be preserved in that state for an unnatural length of time – dirty people (that don’t clean their house or car) and scientists (or guys paid to wear a white coat on TV) have proven as much.

large mosaic at Church of the Apostles in Madaba, Jordan

I put the Church of the Apostles into her GPS and we’re at an intersection where the map says to turn left. We follow the car in front of us that turned only to get the back of the car tapped on by a police officer. The roads have concrete barriers down the middle of most of them making illegal u-turns most difficult for cars with low ground clearance and we did turn on a two-way street. Julie pulls over as the officer walks up to the window and she starts apologizing and blinking her big blue eyes – I think she’s done this before. He waves us on.

colorful detailed designs

We get outside the city and I find the rocky hills and dirt with grass-covered farms impressive. I admire the beauty of this place as it differs from anywhere else – another reason I love to travel. We take in the greenhouses, roadside strawberry stands, monumental gates to sometimes empty lots, fields of wildflowers, and the random people who add to the scenery of otherwise abandoned looking places. And then… I see my first white camel with her little offspring enjoying the weather and watching the cars go by.

moving to the beat of his own drum

Into a town and I’m reminded of the streets in Tijuana waiting to cross back into the States in the late 90s. There were kids selling piñatas, sombreros, churros – anything tourists would associate with the area – even if it was made in China. Here, they dance in the road and tap on your window as they beg for money. They kindly move, slowly, out of the way when the light turns green.

greenery, farmland, and open road

We get out of the car by the church sign in Madaba, the City of Mosaics, as a cop van passes. It looks like a kidnapper van from the movies, the only English on it is Turbo Intercooler, and the light on top looks like it was bought from a toy store. I’m sure the residents are grateful for the resourceful use of their income taxes as much as the tourists can appreciate the photo opportunity. As with Jordan’s daffodil-colored taxis, that look like bright NYC ones that have been left out in the sun for twenty years, and unmarked bus-stops where it doesn’t seem people wait long for a cheap ride.

valley of Mount Nebo

The arrow for the church points one way, but the entrance arch is in the opposite direction. I pay the 2 JD for each of us. I was expecting something more grand of the building, but inside are mosaics from when the prophets walked the Earth in 578 CE, so they are kind of a big deal, as is that the structure is still here. We inspect the tiles from the walkway over the floor and go from end to end trying to capture the best light and the most color which has faded over time and is covered in dust – a fact of life in the desert.

Monolith of the 2000 Jubilee, by Vincenzo Bianchi

We try to walk around the back where there is more scenery and the architecture of the church more easily seen, but two guys start talking to us in a ‘that’s not allowed’ way instead of the ‘let me show you’ way, so we take some pictures and make our way back out the gate. I try to get a photo of a tractor driving down the road, but my view is obstructed by the white metal fence. I’m used to this scenery back home, and I suppose it’s common practice wherever there’s plenty of farmland.

they posed in the Mount Nebo Museum

We have a look at the back, over the wall, where there are trees and a nice walkway. The gate is locked and there’s another entrance shack. Perhaps this is the old entrance or one used on holidays, weekends, or in winter – though this is the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter. We drive past houses made of rough stone and apartments with smooth facades among old rock ruins; past men dancing on the sidewalk and a Jordanian Lockheed F-104 Starfighter jet in a roundabout; and past construction in the road and a mosque with a view of the rolling hills.

outdoor lighting for indoor museum

The jets were used by two squadrons between 1967 – 83. They were acquired through the American MAP program and more were received from the National Chinese surplus thanks to President Nixon. They were used in the 1971 Indo-Pakistan War and retired as decoys when they were replaced with the French Dassault Mirage F1 fighters. I’m grateful that Jordan displays its history so that I may be curious enough to learn more about this beautiful country and its international connections.

playing in the garden of Mount Nebo

We find a spot in the Mount Nebo parking lot and there are plenty of tour buses behind us with the usual passengers – retired, Asian; but what I’m not expecting to hear is the good ‘ol American fuckitude coming from the guys in their khaki pants and collared shirts. Julie and I shy away from them with embarrassment. These are the guys that set the precedent for what locals can expect from Americans, though luckily for us there are educated and wealthy individuals and families that like to travel and show kindness and respect.

I’d almost forgotten to admire the clouds

It’s beautiful up here, some 800 meters above sea level, at one of the more religious sites in Jordan. This is the Memorial of Moses. I remember reading about the Ten Commandments and the Red Sea, but this is where Moses was able to look at the Promised Land, as we are today – along with the other tourists, the trees, the wildflowers, the Jordanian students, and the Indian group where most are wearing Gethsemane 2015 red baseball caps.

a colorful country

Inside this patchwork of a shelter is large slabs of old mosaic floors, the kind read about in old religious or archaeological books, about the long hours and dedication to hard work, community, trade, and following the right path to heaven. These images bring to mind the Byzantine Empire – something Jordan was a part of from the 2nd to 7th centuries when Christianity was spreading. The inscriptions are written in Greek, followed by the local Palestino-Aramaic that was spoken before Arabic reached the region.

north end of Dead Sea

Inside the museum is photogenic women, pottery vessels and shards, more mosaics, and a place to light a candle – because no religious place would be complete without a little fire. We make it to the promised view, which also happens to be family portrait corner, and Julie has to squeeze in to get a picture of the stone map that points your eyes in the direction of the Jordan Valley, Dead Sea, etc. Travel has shown me that people can be kind, but they can also be rude. I’m grateful to my dad for teaching me to let others enjoy the moment – don’t ruin it by trying to get a photo for you or of someone.

Dead Sea afternoon

On our way down the hill, Julie stops to practice her selfies (one of her to-dos on this trip) while I try to sneak a photo of three boys on a rock, but with no luck. I’ve been caught and they moved anyway messing up my ideal image. We make our way south into the valley, past the white camels (they really make me happy like the black ones in Oman) and the brown ones seen in story books, on the beach, and in the zoo. I love all camels and their varying colors as much as the scenery before us that reminds us of California, Oregon, and Utah until we get to the military checkpoint, complete with tank and guard dog.

feet in the Dead Sea

A movie scene flashes before our eyes and Julie wonders out loud if we haven’t driven in the wrong direction and are accidentally too close to Israel (where our entrance to could void us returning to Bahrain). Any other border countries are more than 130 km away and are on the do-not-visit list: Syria, Iraq, and Saudi (though I would love to go if given the opportunity). Whatever, or whoever, they’re checking for, it’s not us. Nearby the scenery has some added tents – military base, wives’ quarters, illegal operations, or none of our business and we’ll keep on driving till we see a town, the Dead Sea in the distance, and the brown tourist signs that are replacing the blue ones put up pre-1995.

children of the Dead Sea

Continue south, and follow the arrow, to be Welcome To Bethany Beyond The Jordan, the baptism site of Jesus by John the Baptist. We overhear the Europeans in the ticket office discussing the price of entry (that varies by nationality) and find out that Americans are charged the same price – 12 JD for a 7 km bus ride followed by a 45 minute walk with a guide that will take us from Elijah’s Hill to the Jordan River. Julie says we don’t have the time or the funds – she has to be online for class at 4 pm and it’s already 2:15 pm.

view from the Dead Sea

As Julie’s been driving today, I’ve noticed families picnicking amongst the rocks and trees and rubbish. This is the dirtiest Middle Eastern country I’ve been to so far, but the mountains and trees and farms are nice. We come back to the main road in search of a spot to touch the Dead Sea, following signs for Porto Dead Sea (an attraction we will later find out is in-progress, i.e. a dirt lot). We stop in a gravel lot and a guy invites us to sheesha, but we tell him we’re looking for food (which we are, to go with our wi-fi).

Pizzeria Napoletana Dead Sea

We drive further down the rocky embankment – there are other cars down there, and walk past the bag of camel poo to put our feet in the water. I ease myself down where I’m at, past the picnic rubbish and plastic chairs and picnicking families. Julie finds another spot that’s just as steep, but closer to children in pants and sweaters instead of men in suits with others floating in the distance. I’m not sure which you are supposed to be able to do at this point. Looking up and out this place is great, it’s just sad the people don’t feel the need to pick up after themselves.

fence and flowers by the Dead Sea

We get back in the car, after noticing the nicer beach at the resort, and continue south to look for food – 2 km and we are at Samara Mall. We park in the back and eat at Pizzeria Napoletana Dead Sea – two bread (fresh, pita, sticks) appetizer bowls, a chicken with cherry tomato pizza (with more red veg for me), and Spanish rice with cheese in a breaded ball. I see a black limoncello on the menu and am told it’s missing a comma. It should be black or white sambuca and lemon – not both; I’ll stick with my water.

$28 beach access, resort view

We go upstairs to Java U for their wi-fi so Julie can do class work, but she has to reschedule because they don’t have audio in the program. I want to be on wi-fi, but the café’s doesn’t work and Julie is using her hotspot, so after twenty minutes I go next door to Bang Bang Juice and get a blueberry boba (takes ten minutes) and then join Julie back in the cafe. We don’t leave there till 5:30 pm, so Julie can catch up on Facebook, though I’ve been eager to go since we got there.

driving to a sunset location

We walk around the overpriced store that sells plate clocks, magnets, and shelves of Dead Sea mud and salt and cream – and even with buy-one-get-one the price is too much. In another store I see canned hummus and foul medammas (fava beans, veg oil, cumin), white chocolate with kiwi, and Riesen bars (so you don’t have to buy the bag), but I won’t be buying anything. I go to the toilet before we leave and notice I have a tear in my pants, luckily the pocket helps block the skin that would otherwise be showing. These should last me till we get back to my bag.

a dead theme

We drive still further south and come upon the next resort – one where people are climbing through the fence, and passing strollers over, and down the rocks to access the beach – the reason: the fee is 20 JD. I thought about following them, but figure we should try to do the right thing first. I say pshaw to that price and make the lady at the counter laugh. We agree to look for another dirty beach because Julie isn’t one for going through jagged wire holes.

family picnic by the Dead Sea

We find a spot further down the coast to watch the sunset, with no beach access – only beautiful back- and foreground and a friendly family that takes a picture for us, and then one with us. The man introduces his wife, daughter, son, and extended family and we talk about our travels – he’s been to the States, and are offered tea and a sticky corn cob with salt. I wouldn’t mind staying a bit longer, but it’s 7 pm and the sun is gone. We still have an hour drive and not the proper headlights for the task. This car was in an accident before we got it, so the lights point down and the front tires are bald.

shadows by the Dead Sea

We stop at 7:23p to watch the moon rise over a mountain, which only takes minutes, as the sky behind us turns to dust with a dark blue blanket ready to cover up the day, and leave us driving through the mountains with our brights on, and pulling over to look at the street signs to make sure we’re going the right way. Julie has learned her lesson and will get a rental car from the airport next time, instead of having to rely on some guy to take her to an agency at 1 am after waiting all afternoon.

selfies by the Dead Sea

We drive back to Dana’s to shower and I let her know via message, as Waleed called us while we were at the café. It’s 8:15p when we get back – the clock in the car is an hour behind. We ask her cousin, who lives with her, about the hot water (because I had the knob turned the wrong way) and wait 15 minutes for the tank to heat up the weak water pressure shower. I’m not complaining as it gets the grime off my body and I can always put my hair up. I borrow Dana’s body soap and shampoo.

one for the photo album – photo by the one missing

I was going to tell Julie to hurry but she’s in and out faster than I was. I put the sheesha place in GPS, and we stop by Cozmo first to buy her a cardigan, pyjama pants, and animal print socks. I want the matching jammies for me and my teddy bear, or the black silk with red flowers nightgown for adults with the froggy coin purse with matching pedicure set. On our way again, and at a roundabout I notice the lit-up striped curb, not only fun but I’m sure it serves a safety purpose as well.

sunset in Jordan

We show up around 10 pm and Sara, Dana, and the tire change guy have just said bye to one friend. We order Julie a Turkish coffee, since she’s never had one, and she dumps it over ice. Dana is ready to go after Waleed shows up; it’s late and she has to work in the morning. He tries to show Julie a magic trick, but she complains that she’s on vacation, doesn’t want to do math, and that he can’t focus.

neighbor’s knocker

We were trying to order shawarma and I got sidetracked friending Sara on Facebook and Julie went and ordered double – that she doesn’t want for leftovers. Well, I paid the 6 JD for them, so I will eat them. We eat for a few minutes and then share a cherry sheesha while Julie is taught the game of Tarneeb. At one point she calls out, “Bullshit!” and surprises the table. I was teaching her to play Spades and this is a variation of… Oops.

our Amman accommodations

We play cards till 11:30 pm, Facebook till midnight, and then Julie pays the 6 JD for her coffee, soda, and sheesha so we can leave. The others wait for us, but their car is parked closer than ours, so we wave goodnight. We take a slight detour on the way back to Dana’s and then have to buzz her apartment at 12:30 am to get in the front door. I want to fall asleep, and have no problem doing so, but try to keep Julie company while she sets up her CPAP. She knocks a candle over and glass goes under the bed. She leaves it… for me to explain in the morning.

Today is my dad’s birthday. This is the cake his co-workers surprised him with!

Posted in Art, Birthday, Education, Food, Friends, History, Media, People, Photography, Places, Plants, Travel, Water | Tagged Dead Sea, international, Jordan, Middle East, mosaics, outdoors, religion | 3 Comments

Delayed a Day, but Not an Adventure

Posted on April 3, 2015 by TheJessicaness

Jordanian Dinar

I slept till noon and then showered – typical pre-trip planning. Usually I would be busy with my computer making sure the itinerary is more definitive, but I’m still dealing with grief (that’s another post) and it’s easier when I’m not home alone, so I left everything but my flight (even that was last-minute) up to my friend Julie who had asked me to join her weeks ago on her spring break away from kids; she’s a teacher and back in school herself for another degree.

Melanie, another teacher friend, whom I was supposed to go to Beijing with (didn’t get visa in time) offered to watch the dogs before her trip, but she’s leaving before I return. I will have another friend Ali who will spend the nights here. This will be Melanie’s first time to my house and I still haven’t packed my bag. I’m showing her around when Caleb gets home. We go to lunch at Lemon Bistro and my lemon vinaigrette salad comes drenched in mayo. Now I know why people ask for their dressing on the side.

Zesty Lemon salad

Melanie had taken us for the two-minute drive in her new three-door Hyundai Veloster and dropped us back home at 4pm and left with the spare key. My neighbour, Natalie, had seen us leaving and invited me over after, so I went for two margaritas and some crackers with eggplant dip while Caleb did homework, and my bag still unpacked. I sat outside with Natalie’s sister, Kelly, and two coworkers, them in swimsuits with the canal water too cold to touch.

I pack my bag at 6pm and Caleb joins me to an invite with Natalie and Matt, her husband, for wine and tapas at 7:45p, at Cellar 59, at the new ART Rotana Hotel. We are joined by another couple and the three girls from earlier. The menu looks pricey, but I get a large glass of white sangria for 3.2 BD and Caleb gets a tall glass of juice with a piece of smoked wood in it; we’re intrigued. We finish our drinks and leave as their food arrives at 9pm.

ART Rotana Hotel & Resort

We drive to the Starbucks (where we think Julie and Jown are) on American Alley and get the car washed by three guys for two dinar, before going to the café in the Alosra complex. Meanwhile, Caleb orders a caffeine-filled beverage and talks to a guy from work about their messed up schedule. I go to Purple Swirl and try the green tea, but always get taro frozen yogurt, the most popular flavor – tonight with raspberries, kiwi, and brownie.

We sit in the plastic-walled outdoor area (colder than outside) of Starbucks till 11:30p when the girls decide to go home. The guys help Jown reverse her car and Julie gifts me with two chocolate, and filled with pudding, cupcakes topped with pink frosting, sprinkles, and a green butterfly. I join the guys for a late night dinner at Honey’s Thai Restaurant. Caleb orders a mango salad – too many tiny shrimp and a bad taste; a veggie soup – with celery but good; and Ali orders pork, seafood rice, and a small tom yum. We eat, talk, and laugh till 1am. Ali leaves with Caleb’s house key.

cupcakes at midnight!

My flight is scheduled to leave at 4:45am and we don’t have a room reserved yet for the entire trip and Julie’s doctor just gave her orders to not swim or shower for the next four days. How will we manage the Dead and Red Sea? I sit and ponder these things with Piggy on the couch after our walk between reading and sleeping until we’re scrambling out the door to get me to the airport at 3:45a. There is such a thing as too early.

It takes less than ten minutes to get my boarding pass and get through security. On the other side awaits a delay. I walk to gate 15 (printed on my ticket) but on my way to check-in the screen says gate 34. I go downstairs and that line is delayed to Kuwait by three hours. I go back up to check and the agent tells me to wait at 34. There’s two boys, Ali and Yaseen, who are willing to make faces, play peek-a-boo, and then get brave enough to play a hand poking game with me till we board the bus an hour late, at 5:40a.

Good morning Bahrain! See you in a week!

I asked for the window seat thinking the guy in the middle might want more space in the aisle and to sit by his friend, but they were happy to give me the window and leave the big guy in-between. I said shukran (thanks in Arabic) and they were hooked. I counted to ‘asharah (ten in Arabic) and was rewarded with a sweet. The talkative one passed out in the air and I was able to finish my book, Longbourn, the story of Pride and Prejudice from the housemaid’s point-of-view.

I ran through the Dubai airport and was even rushed through security only to find out that even though people were still boarding the bus my seat had been transferred to the next flight leaving at 1:30p, not 8:20a. I want to freak out because I’m not the only person this affects on this trip and I’m totally taking it personal, but the guy lets me know this isn’t the place for that. Side note: if you don’t check-in at your gate 20 minutes before departure your seat will be flying alone – regardless of how much sense this may make at the time.

some food with my whiskey

I go upstairs to the transfer desk, where there are three people in front of me, and am given three vouchers – breakfast, dinner, and beverage for any outlet in the airport. I take a free water. I go to another desk and am given a signature that lets me into the Business/First Class lounge – complete with free buffet, comfy couches, warm showers, decent bar, but unfortunately no foot massages for Economy tickets. It was then, standing there patiently and overhearing the man’s rude voice at the customer service desk next to this one that I realised I wasn’t alone.

I was suddenly more grateful that I’d been given anything at all, but I wasn’t about to give it up with a four-hour wait ahead of me. I wish the other guy could be more gracious and that I would’ve waited a moment to realise that I’m in the Middle East where there happens to be a sandstorm and political unrest, though as the day goes on I will learn that others have been delayed over a day due to the great potential, and disasters, that international flights deliver, and are still waiting on their hotel voucher. I am so lucky.

chicken nugget anyone?

I met Suresh who lives in Jakarta and got me a double whiskey and introduced me to his friend Jed working in advertising, currently doing so on his laptop. We sat and talked for two hours until it was time for them to board. I’ll move to a recliner chair closer to my gate surrounded by people covered in brown/black striped blankets while they wait too. I turn in my drink voucher for a bottle of water and am offered a chocolate covered donut, so I pack it in my bag for later.

Julie was supposed to be on a direct flight to Jordan arriving before noon and she has taken a cab back home to wait out her delay that will put her landing three hours after my 5pm arrival, and her name is on the rental car. My flight changes gates – again downstairs, and I sit on the floor for mere moments before standing on the bus. I have an aisle seat and am struggling to stay awake until the other two arrive. As soon as father and son are seated next to me I’m asleep. I miss the meal and wake as we descend. Hamed, a passenger, feels like talking and gives me his number. He will be in Amman for three days and offers to give me a ride from the airport.

welcome to Queen Alia International in Zizya, Jordan

I get in line for passport control to pay 40 JD for a one-month visa, only to find out I have to use a third of the cash that I brought. I asked about using the card reader and was told there was an exchange out of line – I underestimated the cost of this country, but I came prepared. Hamed is Jordanian and quickly through his line. He waits by the rental cars for me, but is now long gone. I step outside to get some sunshine and walk around the fountain before going back inside for wi-fi. The guy at Starbucks talks me into an iced caramel coffee.

I charge my phone for a bit at the Jordan Tourism desk. Julie is now supposed to arrive at 11:30p. There’s no way I’m staying here that long; it’s 6pm. I call Dana – a girl I have yet to meet, but we have a mutual contact, Ahmad, whom I recently met at an InterNations event at the Gulf Hotel in Bahrain. He heard of my upcoming trip and offered help and advice. Dana says I can give the taxi driver her number so she can give him directions in Arabic.

hello sun! hello Jordan!

I get 250 JD ($353) more out of the ATM to add to the remaining 101 JD. I walk up to a group of drivers and show them a map image. I’m given a receipt of basic fares, airport to Amman is 20 JD, and get into a Lexus. We stop for Turkish coffee, with medium sugar, and a Snickers – his treat. The driver points things out to me, even if we are riding into sunset at 80 km/h. This is a beautiful country, all 34 km I’ve seen, with rolling hills and architecture to be explored in the morning. He drops me off in front of Dana on a busy street with the car pointing downhill. Tip: next time bring more change for a cab baksheesh (tip).

I’m grateful to be out of the airport and meeting new people. Dana and I go upstairs to meet Sara, Waleed, and another friend of theirs. I watch them play Tarneeb (Middle Eastern game similar to Spades), smoke sheesha (I get grape mint, 8 JD), and speak Arabic for hours. I order a lemon-mint juice at 9pm and the one girl leaves shortly after. I take her spot at the table – win some, lose some, after Waleed shows me a magic trick.

riding into the Jordanian sunset

I ordered a Turkish coffee, after the laugh-out-loud attempt at ordering karak (masala chai tea) gets me nowhere, to help me stay awake. We’re waiting on Julie and I’m grateful that they’re with me. We leave at 12:30a, after no word from Julie, to fix Dana’s flat tire, with the help of another friend who lets us sit in his car while he works because it’s cold out at 11 degrees C (52*F). We drive to a garage, borrow the large jack, drive back to the tire, and then return the jack by 1:40a. I love the timings (open hours) of these places, but I’m starting to pass out.

Julie messages me that she was busy buying a local sim card and is now with the car rental guy on their way to work that out. Dana takes me back to her place to relax on the couch, warm under blankets, at 2:15a and wait for Julie. She gets to the Safeway (share location accuracy and all) and we pick her up from there at 3am. We stayed up in the twin beds at the end of the hall and talked for a bit while Julie unwound before I passed out. Julie was upset that I wasn’t at the airport waiting on her and thought I’d met Dana at the airport.

Either way, it was a place to sleep till Saturday morning when we’d be Practicing Selfies by the Dead Sea.

Posted in Books, Food, Friends, People, Travel | Tagged airport, community, InterNations, Jordan, restaurant, serendipity, vacation | 1 Comment

TheJessicaness

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To Aqaba, By Car, For Easter

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Delayed a Day, but Not an Adventure

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