Jordanian Hospitality Part 2 - Petra

12 February 2017

To continue, I woke up to the sound of rain hitting the canvas of my yurt.  It was cold, I was snuggled in, and didn't care to move.  On the other hand, this was the day I was going to see Petra.  I thought Petra was a singular thing.  One carved edifice in a sandstone rock face.  Petra is a place.  It is filled with rich history, warm people and a shroud of mystery that is not uncovered even after hours within it's bounds.  

Wadi Musa is the desert and area around Petra.  As we drove out of our Bedouin accommodations, I started to notice that every now and again, there was a carved out hollow in the rocks.  I felt like I was seeing things, but it is very clear that Wadi Musa isn't limited to residents of the town, but that there is a quiet teeming life in the desert with hundreds of people still living in these carved out caves.  

This rainy window photo doesn't do it justice, but that landscape is littered with carved out living spaces.  It is surreal and wonderful and some part of my primate brain was a little threatened.  I was not on territory familiar to me and the mystery surrounding the residents, like most things we don't understand, was uncomfortable and a bit spooky.  

The walk into Petra is intense.  You are in a narrow slot canyon that alternately gives you a good peek around the corner, but doesn't ever reveal what you are waiting so desperately to see.  We were fighting rain, that would later turn to sleet, but all were in good spirits.  Anticipation is a brilliant thing.

Looks like an elephant?  Right?

A few images of rock faces on the way in.  At a glance, it looks like walls of sandstone, but it is distinctly marked with carved out spaces and design.  

This dog with a limp followed his master all day.  His master was a donkey tender and would walk over 800 wet steps to the Monastery multiple times a day. This dog kept up, kept watch and stayed weary.

Gutter systems built to collect water in this challenging climate.

A preemptive marriage ceremony for our engaged Brazilians, officiated by Dave.

After what felt like too much information and too long of a mile, we were at the point where we were going to enter Petra.  The guide cleverly set it up so that the first view would be perfect.  A childlike desire to rush to it was tempered by his experience.  The rain and cold gave us free run without too much hustle and distraction.  We stepped around the corner and were suddenly immersed in our first glimpse of the Treasury.

This was the moment I was waiting for.  Bundled in all the warm clothes I had, I didn't know to be cold or sweat.  It was everything I dreamed of.  I do believe I could have marveled at it all day, but Petra had many more secrets to explore!

The entrance to Petra.

Camels and dog with the limp.

Beyond residences, Petra is full of tombs.  The Monastery, the Treasury, all tombs.  These shallow indentations were inside most of them for this purpose. This brought me no end of joy.

The tour concluded and we were let loose to explore this vast valley of nooks and crannies.  We had been advised that it would be advantageous to rent a donkey for a ride up to the Monastery.  To avoid 800+ steps, I'm more than willing to rent a donkey.  It was a little uncomfortable, but I dubbed him Lamborghini and off we went in the rain.  Wet donkey smell tends to linger in clothing that is also wet...

We hadn't bonded in this photo, but I was open to it.

It turned out that I was on one of Attalah's donkeys.  He rushed to catch up and asked if I would like to see where people live every day.  We scrambled up a hill (me on the donkey) and he took me to the doorstep of an old man.  This man stepped out like he was just out of bed and out to get the paper.  I suspect he was wondering why Attalah had brought a woman on a donkey to his doorstep, or maybe this happened way too often.  He pointed down the valley to a speck of color.  His wife was out tending a herd of goats on the most impossible terrain.  It was hard to imagine these people living in such a seemingly archaic way, but this is what it was.

Look for tiny goats and a woman on the left.  They are nearly impossible to see, but I'll never forget seeing them and wondering how in the world they navigate such challenging terrain.

Donkey caravan companions.

Attalah and I.  We are all human at the end of the day.  It's highly recommend that we all sort that out sooner, rather than later.  Thanks for the support Attalah!

The Monastery was worth the time and the donkey stink.  It is so much larger than the Treasury and the shroud of fog did nothing but encourage wonderment.  Much like it's smaller cousin, I couldn't look away.  I had to drag myself away to see what else there was to see.

This was the only bug I saw in Jordan.  Poor beetle was wet, in transit and covered in mud.  

The last glimpse...

As suddenly as we had arrived, it was time to go.  Having been alone in Petra, poking around like a child, looking in every crevice and climbing where I could, I couldn't believe I'd been there.  My curiosity was not staunched, but ignited.   Something is definitely calling me back to that desert to explore more.  I don't know if I will ever go back, but if I am fortunate, the memories will play clear as dreams.