Ari and Annie Do Arabia

A mural from Farah Hostel, Amman

In order to round out my experience in the Middle East, and alas, to give myself some much needed perspective, I decided to take the plunge and travel to another Arab country: The Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. My new friend Annie and I left after our classes on Wednesday, and amazingly arrived in Jordan that same evening. On the way to our hostel, we zoomed past the Jordanian countryside and headed into Amman, a hilly, leafy city in the middle of a vast desert. Although it was nighttime, I could see that the city was relatively clean, and the majority of its buildings were whitewashed. Instantly I was charmed.

***Let me say a quick word about the accommodations, and then I will move on. Annie and I collectively decided that we would stay at a hostel (that was highly rated) in order to cut down on our expenses in Jordan. I don't regret the decision, but I have to tell you that this princess has never stayed in a hostel before, and quickly learned what they are all about. The room that we shared was like a college dorm room, and was decently clean. However, some of the the bathrooms in the hostel were a terrifying fecal strewn mess. That's all I will say on the subject. ***

DAY 1
Our do-it-yourself itinerary was packed, but necessarily so, since we only had two and a half days in this tiny, yet historically significant Arabian country. We began our whirlwind tour of Jordan at the Dead Sea by heading an hour out of Amman on a rickety bus. For the duration of the trip, we were squeezed tightly into the back of a packed, fly infested vehicle that was primarily filled with cigarette smoking Jordanian men. Needless to say, the journey ended soon enough for us both.
Yet we were somewhat chagrined when the bus dumped us at a road stop in the middle of nowhere that was about 10 km away from the sea. Feeling very vulnerable in our semi-beach apparel, we were keenly aware of the mixture of amused and disapproving glances emanating toward us from the local townspeople.
 Fortunately we didn't have to endure the stares for too long because a very amiable hired car driver, our momentary night in shining armor named Mohammed, scooped us up in his PT Cruiser convertible and whisked us away to the beach where we clearly belonged with the promise of picking us up in the afternoon.
Amman Beach was more than we expected, with a two level pool (and waterfall) as well as a beach running about a quarter of a mile length of the Dead Sea where this picture was taken. . .

The Dead Sea's salt content is so high that a person will float on the surface without even trying. P.S. I'm not really reading that book. 

We arrived so early that we were the first ones at the pool, and one of four people in the Dead Sea. However, the early morning stillness was quickly broken by a bus load of people FROM EGYPT who wasted no time in crowding around the pool to take random pictures of each other. Despite the interruption of our little paradise, we stayed for most of the day, basking in the glorious sun (but at the same time swatting away the clouds of flies), and later we took Mohammed up on his offer to drive us to the bus stop.
The bus ride back was even worse than the first. Without going into too many specifics, Annie and I were cornered at the back of the bus by a pair of obnoxious, badgering Jordanian college guys. At first we tried to ignore them, but it's difficult to be rude to people who are talking at you, especially since they seemed harmless. They were clearly trying to pick us up, so we pretended that we were Spaniards who spoke limited English (with very convincing accents I'm proud to say), and thus could not understand all of their questions. Our stunted conversation about our soccer preferences and the weather in Spain this time of year quickly turned invasive. As you know, I have endured this type of treatment too often, and I had had enough. I scolded the perpetrator by saying, "You do NOT ask questions like that!" and both Annie and I stormed toward recently vacated seats in the front of the bus. Yet I was resolved not to let them ruin our trip, since the taxi drivers and other men we met had been more than respectful. (In fact, everywhere we went on the streets of Amman and elsewhere, we were greeted by a chorus of "Welcome! Welcome to Jordan!)
When we returned to Amman, we were feeling a bit peckish, and decided to patronize a place that I had previously heard about called Hashem. After making a circuit around Amman's main street, Annie and I found ourselves at the little hole in the wall restaurant that was way different than I expected. The thing about Hashem is that you don't order; they give you whatever they feel like cooking. So we were handed a hummus bowl and an eggplant puree, flat bread and a side of fries. The meal was very filling and good, and I was satisfied by our choice. The best part is that it only cost about $3 each.


Annie at Hashem

DAY 2
The next morning we woke before dawn to trek to the station in order to catch our 6:30 am Petra-bound coach bus. The ride was a grueling four hours (which was broken up by a stop at the nicest pit stop in all of the Middle East . . . no sarcasm here, really). Our driver tortured us for the better part of the trip by playing the worst movie in the world, the Killers with Ashton Kutcher and Katherine Heigel. We only got half-way through it on the first part of the trip, but don't even get me started on how, during the return trip he replayed the movie from the beginning until the end, thus prolonging my suffering. By the credit roll, I wanted to be an assassin just like in the movie, and I knew who my first target would be.


PETRA

What can one say about Petra except that it is amazing? The 2500 year old bedouin trade city is cut into rock formations in the middle of the Arabian desert and was also a haven for Christians during the Roman persecutions. Recently, it made a cameo appearance in an Indiana Jones movie that I have yet to watch.

The most memorable human interaction of the trip was a bedouin guy with black eyeliner and full bedouin regalia riding a horse who started to trot behind us. When I turned around to shoot him an inquiring look, he told me that I had dropped something . . . his heart. Even when I rebuffed him, he continued to follow us, and made surprise appearances several times later on our wanderings through Petra. Some would be charmed, but Annie and I were skeptical about his motives. No bedouin romances for us.

DAY 3
 At the hostel we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast with a sixty-two year old Korean teacher named Tumsook (which I can't spell, and I apologize for butchering the Korean language). She was delighted by us, the twenty and twenty-one year olds who she says are at an age that "makes her heart flutter." Since her retirement, she has made it a goal to visit as many countries as possible and holds ambitions to go to Iran, because she wants to overcome political divisions by meeting and interacting with everyday people. I admire her  for her sincerity and sweet demeanor, and I hope she gets her wish.
Our last morning in Jordan, we explored Amman about which Annie and I were both surprised, because this seemingly new city has ancient roots. Two thousand years ago, it was the Roman Philadelphia, for which the current American city was named. As such, it has a roman citadel on the top of a hill overlooking the city, and a wonderfully preserved ampitheater which we both climbed. ***That is one of the upsides about the Middle East: they are less uptight about their ancient monuments. We were able to touch them and interact with them in a way that is impossible in Europe. 


The Temple of Hercules

Later we found a Bedouin culture museum, which was hidden next to the ampitheater, and then we wandered around the Amman marketplace until we were pressed for time and left for the airport. Landing back in Egypt was hard for me, especially in that on the way back to my apartment, I was stuck in a taxi with a rigged meter. (Though I still paid less than I would have with one of the vultures who swarm around the airport exit . . . it still made me furious).

                     

To sum up why I liked Jordan better than Egypt, I have made a  rudimentary comparative Venn Diagram with the my mostly positive assessments of both places . . .


SCORE:
Jordan 12, Egypt 3

As my last big adventure on this study abroad trip, Jordan left me craving to see more, and that's exactly what I hope to do in the future.