Adventure into the Middle East - Jordanian Hospitality Part 1

11 February 2017

I'm quite delayed in this post, but I'm going to attempt to briefly articulate why.  I had the opportunity to visit Israel for work.  I won't go into detail, but I didn't find the culture or country terribly agreeable.  This isn't the first time I've felt this way about a place, it's just that I had great expectations of loving it.  There will be more on the Israel portion of the visit, but this is all to say, by the time it was time to go to Jordan, I was beyond ready.  Starting at 6:15 at the hostel in Tel Aviv, I hopped on a small bus with 8 other people.  The weather was full of storms and wind and we rode in silence to the Jordanian border.  It was wonderful to see the contrast from the heavily urbanized central portion of Israel to the lush green of the north. We made it to the Jordan River and crossed over.  It wasn't remarkable, but it was interesting.  Leaving our Israeli driver behind, Midhe took the reigns and we began our 48 hour tour.

I had signed up solely for the opportunity to see Petra for more than a few scant hours.  We were headed to Jerash and Amman and I had no idea or care about what was there.  We drove through quiet back roads and rolling green hills dotted with civilization.  Midhe explained the problems facing the country with regards to water/utilities, how families live together for generations and the day to day life of Jordanians.  For a country with exceptionally controversial neighbors (Syria and Israel to name a few), it was very mellow and restrained.  Small towns were quiet and filled with children going to school, people going to work, life carrying on.  We arrived in Jerash and I suddenly realized I was going to see my first Greco-Roman ruins.  This wasn't a single temple, building, road, column, but an entire city.  It was fantastically restored, but also left damaged and authentic.  The contrast against the modern city was captivating.

The old Roman road, complete with sewers and drainage.

An underground tomb.

A public forum.  This is quite a bit larger than can be communicated in a photo, but was absolutely brilliant.

It may look like a load of old stones, but when you realize that these ruins are over 1700 years old, have survived wars, earthquakes and progress, it is fascinating.  I never dreamed that all the hours of history education in college would ever play out right in front of me.  This was a wonderful surprise and a welcome bonus to an already too short trip into Jordan.  

Next, we passed into Amman.  This is the capital city of Jordan and is frankly, another busy city.  Of course it isn't refined like a lot of capitals, but it had the same busyness, throngs of people and a bit more grime that I would enjoy on a day to day basis.  Although I couldn't capture a photo, the US Embassy was striking.  The sun shone off of the walls and made it seem like a wildly safe haven in the desert.  

Somewhere after Amman and lunch, I took an intense car nap.  I always swear I have car narcolepsy.  I love napping in cars and stand by this affliction.  I missed nothing but open desert and the Kings Highway.  I'd post a photo, but it is flat, brown, dusty, a little cloudy and unremarkable.  

After dark, we made it into Wadi Musa.  Wadi Musa is a town, but it is so much more than that.  I'll get into that in part two, but the brave of us that stumbled into staying in a Bedouin camp in the middle of nowhere, were in for a treat.  The camp was centered around an outcropping and uplift of rocks.  The total darkness of the desert made it difficult to discern the topography, but carefully placed lights provided a romantic and charming welcome to camp.   

We were shown to our tents.  These are canvas covered, approximately 8 x 8 feet square, with limited electricity and two beds piled with blankets.  I was concerned about the low temps that evening (30 degrees-ish) and not having the safety of my down sleeping bag.  In a moment of brilliance, I planned on moving all blankets to one bed.  I quickly realized that each bed was buried in blankets too heavy to want to move much.  Bedouins have been living in the desert for a long time and have this all figured out!  I now knew I would not have to heed my father's desert caution: "If you sleep with camels, you wake up with fleas!"

After the group members that were not interested in "camping" had gone to the hotel, the night really began.  The men had donned long, heavy robes to stay warm, but still wore very limited footwear.  Dark complexions, deep set eyes and warm smiles abounded.  We all filed into a long tent with low slung setting, a very alluring stove, no end to the rich and sweet tea and a bit of music playing in the background.  The Bedouins congregated like I imagine they do every evening, laughing, talking.  Hookahs were lit and as the cold crept in, we all slowly got closer to the stove.  Wood kept appearing, tea continued to be poured and conversations grew more animated as common ground was found.   

It was difficult to peel away, but a warm bed and a cozy yurt awaited me.  The generators had gone off rendering the camp dark.  Too many cats startled me on my walk to the yurt and one lone dog looked wearily my way.  I lit a small candle to give me some guidance to tuck into the mound of heavy blankets.  I could have slept in that simple bed for days and knew that great adventure was afoot when I woke to rain on the canvas above me and subtle daylight seeping under the door.