Sunday, December 27, 2015

Hanukkah - Part 3: In the Footsteps of Lawrence of Arabia

Crossing into Jordan was a song and dance of bureaucratic stamps, inspections, screening and judgmental glares. We had, by this time been joined by other Westerners who had signed up for our same tour to Petra; with us there were two backpackers, three senior members of a flight crew, two Mormon girls on the tail end of a mission trip and the three of us! We were helped on the Israeli side by an older, sarcastic Israeli man in a Bill Cosby sweater, who collected our $65 border crossing fee from us and ushered us through Israeli passport control and customs. This took place in a series of low buildings stretched along an expanse of empty, flat land. We went from one building to another to complete each phase of the process. 

When it finally came time to cross from one country to another, we walked out onto a single lane road that spanned maybe 100 yards; it looked like a scene from a spy movie where we were part of a prisoner exchange. The group of us walked with our bags from the edge of one country to another.

Welcome to Jordan!

On the Jordan side, we were greeted by much the same process, but this time the atmosphere had changed. Shark-eyed guards looked us up and down warily, like they were daring us to do something wrong for the chance to shoot their weapons. 

I've adjusted to constantly walking by young, bright-eyed IDF soldiers with M-16s slung over their shoulders; riding the bus with 20 or so guns leaned across their associated soldiers' laps, plus any time I want to go to the movie theatre or mall I consent to metal detectors and bag searches. But all the time, you're aware that these soldiers are young, they're only 18-21 and they're someone's daughter or son. They don't want to be there any more than you do, but their whole life they've known that this service was coming for them and they had to pay their dues. So they approach it reverently, alertly and typically as a span of years which must be passed. 

Conversely, the Jordanian soldiers were all men, older and eyed us ferociously, just waiting for the chance to flex their muscles and show the full might of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan!

Just like on the Israeli side, we were met by a guide from the tour company we had arranged the visit with and we were ushered through the process of receiving many passport stamps, before walking out onto a dry flat plane that was our first look at Jordan.  We were divided into vans and then those vans shut their doors and we headed off from the border, through the suburbs of Aqaba and onto the highway heading north towards Petra.

So first things that I did not take into account is that Petra is far. It is around a two hour drive from Aqaba. It was still around 10:00 in the morning and I hadn't eaten more than a yogurt for breakfast. In the van, it seemed that our driver doubled as our tour guide as we raced over the road - top speeds on the highway include around 55-65mph; every few miles or so, there are speed humps to keep everyone from maxing out at crazy speeds. We were also stopped two or three times by police check points on the road. The driver said that since he had Americans [and Canadians] in his van, we'd have no problem. But every time, we were eyed over suspectedly.
As he drove, our driver told us about Jordan - "very nice and clean country!", which to his credit it was - at least where I was taken.  He told us about the royalty of Jordan, a dynasty which began with King Hussein, who looks like a kindly Sean Connery and governed through a huge span of years and events encompassing 1952-1999. When he passed, his son Abdullah II succeed him as king and still sits on the throne today. King Abdullah's son Hussein is the Crown Prince of Jordan and currently next in line to inherit the throne, however, at the moment, he apparently attends Georgetown. 

We stopped at a lonely outpost to break up the drive and use a bathroom. Inside the outpost we were greeted by a plethora of sales people ready to help us find the Jordanian scarf, trinket or souvenir of your dreams. Haggling was expected and encouraged, but you sort of knew that the merchant had the upper hand; we were trying to negate three different currencies - the American dollar, Israeli sheckel and Jordanian dinar. Trying to do conversions across all these different currencies to avoid being swindled, undoubtedly gets you swindled. And the merchants at this shop - and really every other person we encountered selling things - had nothing else to do rather than hone their craft on how to get the most money out of tourists. 

We all loaded back up into the vans and continued our trek. Now we were the only vehicles on a road that wound over hill tops that were mentioned in the bible. We passed a range of scraggly mountains of which the tallest was said to be the tomb of Moses' brother Aaron. 

Small building with the mountains that house Petra in the background
The vans descended through a small, but pleasant looking town called Wadi Musa, the town centered upon a rich, green stretch of stream, which was said to the the spot that Moses struck his staff and caused water to flow from the earth. 

Moses himself never entered Petra, nor the land of Israel for that matter. He was fated to never set foot inside the land of Canaan (Israel), he died at a biblically ripe old age and the location of his tomb is unknown.

We pulled up to the entrance to the expanse of Petra and left the vans. The tour group walked into a recently built circular courtyard with bathrooms, a small UNESCO Heritage Site plaque, restaurant with a loud yellow sign declaring it had WIFI and falafel, and three shops all selling the same scarves and trinkets as each other; each had shop keepers standing in front of them eagerly eyeing our pockets and bags. 

The tour group gathered around our Jordanian guide Adnan. He was younger, maybe 30ish years old, donned a checkered headscarf and had noteworthy burgeoning huge biceps. Two other travelers - an American, and an Argentinian joined our group and we headed along the dirt road out of the courtyard and into Petra. 

"One word of caution before you enter" said Adnan, whose English, as well as his French was flawless, "do not buy anything from the children who are trying to sell you things. They are supposed to be in school. Jordan is working on this." 

So with that, we began the tour and our walk into the ancient red walled city of Petra. 
The formal entrance of Petra is called the Siq, but even before you reach it you walk by the homes of past Nabateans, which intermix with the tombs of even more passed Nabateans. The more than 2,000 year old society had a very complex relationship with how they honored their dead. The intricate structures that the ancient city is famed for were built with the purpose of honoring their dead ancestors. Those who lived and walked the streets, were constantly reminded of those who had come before them. 

Walking down the pathway towards the first buildings of Petra
The Obelisk Tomb
Also on display in Petra, our tour guide's gigantic arms
The group approached the Siq, the naturally formed narrow entrance of the expansive ancient city of Petra. The path lined with original cobblestones slops down and bring the merchant with his caravan of camels, guard or tourist along a path chiseled through indomitable red canyon walls. The Nabataeans cut niches into the stone to honor their gods, as well as show their dominance and control over the resources of the area. The walls at times pressed so closely together so that you must stride through in single file. 

All the while, there are young Jordanian men with horses tied to colorful carts and donkeys racing - no careening past you. This is their sales pitch to try to tempt you into taking a wild ride with them to the more distant parts of Petra - the site is so big that it's not a bad way to see it all if you're short on time. 

Strolling down the paths, whilst dodging horse drawn carts driven by maniacs
The thing that doesn't come across in National Geographic, Indiana Jones, or guide books is that Petra was a living and breathing city. It's much more than the famously carved face of the Treasury, it's like walking through the frozen in time remains of New York City.

Hello from Petra
But oh, the Treasury, it's one of the wonders of the world for good reason. The pathway narrows before it opens up to reveal its breathtaking beauty. Tears came to my eyes when I saw it. It's just so overwhelmingly beautiful, impossible and represents what skilled human hands can create. It's bigger than I expected, more mammoth and resolute. But so, so, so impossibly beautiful. 

Camel for scale
Bedouin guards stand in front of the entrance.
Details of the columns and facade on the front of the Treasury 
Making friends with the locals
Against this backdrop of the possibility of ancient architecture, are the possibilities of modern capitalism. To the left of the entrance to the Treasury is a Jordanian restaurant with snacks, drinks and free WIFI if you buy something. Three camels are staged at artistic angles in front of the site for tourists to take pictures with, or pay a couple dinar for a ride. It just goes to show that you can travel to the ends of the earth, but you can never go completely off the edges any more. 

Past the Treasury, the real expanse of the full, vibrant city opens up. There's levels of buildings in a range of different styles stacked on top of each other - if you lived here, you'd have been in good shape from walking up flights and flights of stairs to reach upper levels of building. The ever present Nabatean tombs become more ornate and house more families.  There's even a Greek style amplitheatre present.  

It's a hard knock life for a Petra donkey.  
Row upon row of Nabatean houses
With the rest of our time at Petra, we had free time to explore and wander. I fell into conversation with Adnan, the tour guide and we had a really interesting conversation about the Nabateans use of Corinthian Greek architecture that led to talking about job prospects for young Jordanians and the market there. So just remember kids, you never know where your Classics degree might take you!

Black and white of Bedouin guards on top of Petra overlook.

By the time we had all returned back to Petra'a Welcome Center where we had started, the day was creeping towards 3:45. We still had not eaten. Our appetites had been distracted by the views, but now that we could think about it, we were really hungry. The vans picked us up and brought us to a Jordanian buffet. For me, this was the most real and solid thing I had eaten in almost three days. The food was flavorful and amazing and I ate like I might never see food again. 

But I actually would not have to wait that long. From the restaurant, we loaded back into our vans and one took people back to the Jordanian border where they returned to Israel, while the other took six of us around 2 hours south to a Bedouin camp for the night. 

When Jess, Joe and I had booked the tour, we read that we had the choice between spending the night in a Bedouin camp, or a hotel in Aqaba. Both sounded pretty cool to us, so we figured that we'd ask our tour guide which he'd suggest once we were there. But this moment never came. So we were just swept along to the Bedouin camp - which still sounded pretty cool to us. But then the sun set. And it got cold. So cold. I know it's the desert and it's Jordan, but it gets cold. Like you can see your breath and can't stop your body from shaking profusely cold. 

When we arrived it was pitch dark and we entered a stylish encampment of lines of modern looking canvas tents amid palm trees. It was jovial looking enough, but it's charming look hide its true sinister nature. Canvas walls don't do much to hold in heat, if you have any of it to begin with. We were given two gigantic blankets and that was to served for our heating unit. In the tent I shared with Jess, we both quickly changed into all the layers of clothes we had packed with us. We decided to go to dinner to see if there was any heat in the cafeteria building. There wasn't. A large fire was at the center, but it didn't do much good; the heat didn't radiate out. None of us were hungry, but we ate to keep up with the body's demand as it shivered. 

This is what brushing your teeth in the Jordanian desert looks like
What the camp lacked in actual walls and thermodynamic capabilities, it made up for in beautiful 360 degree views of stars and the Milky Way. I saw my first shooting star while wrapped up in a 1in thick Beduin blanket standing out underneath the night sky with Joe, Jessica and our two new friends Amber and Juan (the two who joined our tour later).
The night passed painstakenly slowly and bone-chillingly cold. The low point was around 3am when I had to leave my bed to sprint to the bathroom building located around 75 yards away. It was freezing! As I figure it, at around that time of night, it was probably roughly 30 degrees. 


Looking all jaunty and cute in the sunlight and hiding its true nature.
When the day dawned, I woke up almost amazed to still exist. I staggered out of the tent, my body stiff, clothing stuck to myself and hair matted. 
I joined my friends at the cafeteria building and ate a Jordanian breakfast. Today we were going on a jeep tour of Wadi Rum!

Wadi Rum enters Western cinema from the adventures of T.E. Lawrence, who's life gave inspiration to the film Lawrence of Arabia. Wadi Rum was also the backdrop of the recent Matt Damon film The Martian lending it's red sands for the surface of Mars. So, I can now say that I more or less have walked on Mars. 


Our Bedouin tour guide arrived to pick up the six of us in an amped-up pick-up truck with bench seats in the back.  The fun thing about the Middle East is that they don't have to adhere to the same safety regulations as the west. So when you're sitting the back of a pick up and the Bedouin driving it decides to take a roller coaster-esque drop over a sand dune, you enjoy the ride! 
For the next few hours our guide drove us to a few different sites around Wadi Rum to take pictures and enjoy the natural beauty. 

Desert expanse of Wadi Rum
More views of Wadi Rum

Since they're out there all day, Bedouin guides take some great pics.
Don't try this at home
Mushroom rock
Attempting to climb the Mushroom Rock
After our jeep tour, we returned to the camp, grabbed our bags, threw them back into the van and got the heck out of dodge to Jordan's southern city of Aqaba.  We had signed up for a tour of the city, but I'm not sure if it's the fact that there's nothing much to see in Aqaba, or the Mormon girls really needed to get back to their connecting flight in Israel, but we were not there for more than two hours.  In that time we had one last Jordanian meal that culminated in one last awkward monetary exchange of US dollars, Israeli sheckles and not enough Jordanian dinar when the restaurant did not accept credit cards.  

After that, we high tailed it back to the Jordanian/Israeli border, which was the same thing we did the day before, but in reverse.  There was relatively few incidents: a border agent forgot to give me a stamp with the right year, so I had to go back through a couple steps at one point, but we all made it!

Back safe inside Israel, we said goodbye to our new friends from our travels. Jessica, Joe and I went back to our rental car that we had decided to hang onto for the whole span of the trip since just driving back to Beit She'an seemed the easiest and most cost effective way to do the trek. By then, the sun had set over Eilat, settling behind the Jordanian mountains - mountains which we had only a day ago been traversing.

Driving through the Negev desert and the West Bank at night is a lot less interesting.  The five hours of the drive went by without a hitch and much of note happening.  Before we knew it, we had returned to our familiar haunts of Beit She'an, which of course, had not changed one bit.  It seemed relatively unperturbed by the fact that we had just crossed into a different country, visited a World Wonder, dipped our toes in the Dead Sea and the Red Sea and passed a night in the Jordanian desert.  But that's Beit She'an for ya!

All in all, it was a magnificent trip!  I found myself in places that I never believed my life would take me. Getting to visit Petra was just much cooler than I thought my life would be.  I love looking back at the pictures and seeing the evidence that it happened, since some parts were very dreamlike to behold. It's well worth getting up from the desk chair for the chance to get to see it in person!

5 comments:

  1. What an amazing trip. Thank you for sharing what you have seen with us.
    Jeff

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    1. It took 5 days to live it, but 3 weeks and thousands of words to write about it in order to share the experience!!:)

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  2. So cool! And those certainly were large biceps.

    Also, I just watched "The Martian" the other day, and therefore think your photos are that much cooler! It's awesome that you got to see all of that in person. You won't ever regret it!

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  3. I so enjoyed your travel narrative. Thank you for putting in the time to write it so completely and poetically. As our Aunt Pescha would warn, "Don't be taken in by jumbo-sized biceps." I have always found her advice to be spot on.

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    1. Thanks for the great advice, Cousin Sadie!:)

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