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Published: April 15th 2008
Gazing past the ship’s bow, my eyes surveyed the coastline of the Red Sea within the Gulf of Aqaba. My exodus from Egypt was underway and the shores of Jordan lie only a few minutes ahead. In that moment, I simply sat and marveled at the fact that not only could I see Egypt behind me in the distance and Jordan just in front, but I also had Saudi Arabia to my starboard and Israel to my port. There I was floating in the Red Sea with four countries I’d only previously read about or observed on the television, now as my surroundings. But even with such a setting to keep my mind absorbed in the occasion, I was still unable to stop thinking about the crazy events of the day that had led to this point in time. Also, I found it hard to grasp the fact that I was sitting outside on the front section of this seagoing vessel that was restricted to passengers; accompanied by a bright-eyed Egyptian from Kuwait and a Jordanian daggling a cigarette from his jovial smirk. A strong gust of sea breeze watered our eyes and muffled our hearing, but it didn’t deter the
enormous smiles that we each passed between the three of us. We had just recently met and I for one could barely understand or be understood by either, but we were now friends and on this journey into the Gulf of Aqaba together.
Ten hours prior, just after the sun had risen over the Red Sea and the rays of light cut through the cracks of my straw cabana, I woke and prepared myself for what I knew would be a long, tiresome day. But little did I know that from this time forward, my description of a long, tiresome day would forever be redefined. After meeting up with my prearranged taxi and making my way through Nuweiba City to the port, I discovered that a large line had already formed in front of the Ferry Transport Office. I had previously inquired several sources on the departure time of the boat and had gotten three different answers to what I thought would be a set in stone kind of deal, but this is Egypt.
Note that in order to avoid writing a book and preventing some of my buddies back home from finishing or even beginning to read
this entry, I will skip through and sum up a lot of the details of my day.
I arrived at the ticket office just after 7am and it wasn’t until around 11am that I finally had the ticket for the fast boat in my hand. The line I’d stood in wasn’t actually a line at all, but more like a mess of frantic Arabs attempting to be the next one served. There were people coming from every direction trying to squeeze through and shove their arm holding their passport over the pile and into the service window. I’ve never seen such non-sense in my life. This is probably the main reason why there is no Disneyland in the Middle East. The poor children would be tossed to the pavement as the adults fought and maneuvered to get on a ride.
As soon as I’d reached the front, I grabbed a hold of the bars on the ticket window and held on for dear life. By this time, I’d made friends with a couple of young fellas who were transporting their cars on the Jordan-bound boat. They assisted me with translation and cheered me on as I fought to
get my passport and money through the window and to the receptionist. Soon after, we finally had our tickets and the two fellas, one who was an Egyptian named Ahmed and the other a Jordanian named Khaled, offered for me to ride in one of their vehicles to bypasses the next hectic line for immigration and boarding. I happily accepted and hung out in Ahmed’s car for the next four hours as they went through a rigorous onslaught of inspections and paperwork. During our down time between stations, Ahmed and I got to know each other a little better. He was born in Kuwait, but had been living in Egypt for most of his life. He was now moving home and going to drive from Jordan through Saudi Arabia to Kuwait. As we conversed, I noticed him looking at a picture in the locket around his neck. I soon learned that the man in the picture was his ex-boyfriend and that they’d recently split because he was moving back to Kuwait where that kind of relationship is forbidden. The fact that he was gay didn’t bother me at all, but his passion for Tina Turner music did. Ahmed was extremely
friendly and fun to be around. As for Khaled, I didn’t learn as much about him because he didn’t speak much English. Ahmed had to be our translator throughout our time together. Even though we didn’t share many words, I knew he was a good guy simply from his smile. At first I actually thought that Khaled was gay as well because he kept trying to spray his favorite cologne on me, but that was probably because I’d only had one shower that week.
Before I move on, I must recount an episode that took place just after our passports were stamped at customs. Because I was hanging out with my new compadres, I went to the Arab section of immigration. Inside this warehouse-like building there were hundreds of Egyptians, Jordanians and Saudis all packed together awaiting their release for boarding. Security had held them up inside to prevent them from running amuck in the ship yard. Because of the fact that the building was extremely humid and the people had been cooped up for hours, the atmosphere inside was very tense. I questioned Ahmed on why everyone was so crazy in the ticket line and now huddled around
the exit like a pack of hungry wolves. He explained that even though the people had tickets, not everyone would make the first boat. Those left would have to wait a few hours until the final ferry departed. Most of these people had been here the day prior and waited in the parking lot all night long, which explained why they were overly eager to get a spot on the first boat. After receiving our passport stamps, the three of us headed to exit the facility and get back in our vehicles. I stopped off at a food stand to grab some pita bread and a spirit and then I followed behind. As we pushed our way through the tight crowd of locals surrounding the exit, I lost some distance between the guys because my hands were full. Then just as Ahmed and Khaled exited to the outside, a fight broke out between some guys and security. Suddenly the antsy crowd became a crazy mosh pit of flailing bodies. The guards at the doorway slammed the exit shut and the mob of bodies pushed and shoved in an angry wave. The doorway was way too far for me to make
and my attention was now focused on blocking off people with my forearms; as not to drop my food. Did I mention that I was wearing my small pack holding my laptop? In order not to get trampled, I had to fight back. My most successful weapon of choice in this situation was a big smile and a little humor. As soon as the angry Arabs turned to see a white foreigner caught up in their chaos they couldn’t help but laugh with me. I continued to smile and laugh as we fell back and forth with the movement of the crowd. As soon as the sporadic movement seemed to finally cease and security drug a couple of guys off, I began waving my pita bread in front of my face like a fan as if to cool down myself a bit. The Arabs around me thought it was hilarious and I threw an Ok sign up as if to say “good fight.” Now, my next objective was to reach the closed exit and some how escape. Suddenly the door cracked open and a security guard and Ahmed poked their heads through. Soon their eyes had found me and Ahmed
glowed with relief. The guard then came in and started shoving people from side to side to rescue me. As I exited, I turned and waved to my fellow combatants and they all return with laughter. Outside from the chaos, Ahmed and Khaled embraced me as if I’d almost died. We laughed about the event off and on the rest of the day.
Soon we boarded the boat bound for Aqaba, Jordan, but both of the guy’s vehicles, one containing my larger backpack (to avoid going through luggage check on the boat), were placed on a separate vessel because ours was full. With there nothing we could do, the three of us found a spot near the back of the ship and watched as we pushed off from port (1.5 hour trip to Aqaba). During the ride, Khaled got to talking with a young ship employee about finding better seats with a view. After a small bribe from Khaled (I assume), the employee snuck us out through the door marked restricted and crawled us onto the bow of the ship. And that there is how we ended up with the best seats in the house.
Our exodus of
Egypt was not over, not by a long shot. Although we had reached the portside city of Aqaba and I’d acquired my visa, we still didn’t have their cars or my bag. The arrival time of the transport freighter wasn’t until seven hours later (around 12 o’clock that night). Then after two more hours of inspections and paperwork, we pulled out of the Aqaba port authorities at 2am in the morning. Then, having only eaten bread the entire day, Khaled insisted that he treat us to a late night dinner (many Jordanian restaurants and clubs stay open 24 hrs.). After stuffing ourselves on four meat platters, the most I’ve eaten this entire trip, we headed to a hotel that Khaled’s friend owned where we stayed for free. When I finally laid my head to rest on my pillow, it was 4 o’clock in the morning…and that there was a long, tiresome day.
The following morning, or shall I say a few hours later, the guys drove me to the bus station so I could catch a ride to the city of Wadi Musa where the ruins of Petra reside. But first, the two stopped off to buy me some
farewell chocolates, pita bread and soft drinks for my ride. Those guys were just too nice. When we finally said our goodbyes, I think poor old Ahmed nearly cried. He wrapped me in a big hug and kissed my cheeks on either side (which is the custom) and Khaled finally got me with a squirt of his cologne. Farewell my friends…may our paths cross again.
As I hiked through the Siq of Petra , which is an incredibly narrow, 1.2km-long mountain pass created by tectonic forces, I soon caught my first glimpse of the famous Al-Khazneh Treasury carved from the iron-laden sandstone of the mountainside. My eyes fell into a trance as the morning sun illuminated the rose-colored stone of the structure giving it a fairytale aura through the dim light of the Siq. Ever since I saw this majestic temple portrayed in the Indiana Jones movie “The Last Crusade,” I’ve wanted to see it in person. It’s one of the Seven Wonders of the World and sure is an impressive sight to behold. The Treasury is not the only fascinating structure in Petra. All through the hillsides and valleys are cave dwellings, tombs, temples, and an amazing monastery
all carved from the mountain. Not only is the area full of scenic views that leave you captivated and man-made structures that fascinate the mind, but it’s also provides an excellent workout. I hiked through the hills and countless stairs of Petra as fast as I could to stay ahead of the scores of tourists moving through the trails like starved rats in a bakery. One of the toughest things about photography at a heavily visited site is getting a picture without mobs of people in the way. My strategy is to get there early, move fast and with the location of the sun, and not rest until I’ve gotten the pictures I wanted. It doesn’t always work out perfect and sometimes old people in my path get hurt, but in the end, I get a few good pictures and one heck of a workout.
After two days in Wadi Musa, I headed north through the windswept wastelands of southern Jordan and on up to the capital city of Amman. The sight of the goat-haired tents of the Bedouin dotted the desert on either side of the King’s highway. Herds of sheep, goats and camels could be seen grazing,
Another look at the Treasury
This location was used as a backdrop in the Indiana Jones movie "The Last Crusade."while nearby their shepherd’s warmed by a camp fire. During the trip, I met a couple of young Dutch girls, Tessa and Nora, who were down from Syria for a week of site-seeing. We split a cab to down town and negotiated a deal with the driver to take us to the Dead Sea and some other sites after we found a hostel. Nora was presently working in Damascus and Tessa was visiting from Holland. It had been quite some time since I’d traveled with some Netherlanders and I was pleased because they tend to be some of the friendliest travelers I come across.
After booking a room at the Farah Hotel and grabbing a bite to eat, we set off on our biblical journey. First stop was the St. George Greek Orthodox Church in Madaba. Inside rests a mosaic from 560 AD that is a map with 157 Greek captions of all the major biblical sites from Lebanon to Egypt. The mosaic once contained more than two million pieces, but now only one third of it remains displayed on the floor of the church. After a quick peek, we headed to Mount Nebo. This peak is where Moses
is said to have seen the Promised Land. He died there after at the age of 120 years old and was said to have been buried in the area. The exact location of his is burial site is still unknown. Following the hazy, but still very beautiful view from the mount, we descended to the Jordan River below. From there we drove to Bethany which is the location along the Jordan River where Jesus was baptized by John the Baptist (John 1:28). We did not enter the site because of time and money (entrance fees at every location we visited that day), but from the highway we were able to view the Jordan River and the city of Jericho in Israel. Jericho is where Joshua’s army circled with their trumpets blaring and tumbled the walls. It is the oldest and lowest (260m below sea level) town in the world. And if you venture into town you will find the old tree from which Zacchaeus climbed for a better view of Jesus preaching. Our driver was a Palestinian born in Jericho and was very knowledgeable of the biblical history of his lands.
Following our stop in Bethany, we continued on
down to the lowest place on Earth, the Dead Sea (400m below sea level). The waters of the Dead Sea are like no other on Earth. Compared to sea water, the Dead Sea has 20 times more bromine, 15 times more magnesium, and 10 times more Iodine. Due to the numerous amounts of minerals and its high salinity your body floats on top of the water like a giant cork. The girls and I went for a quick swim and were instantly amazed at how buoyant our bodies were in the water. On my back I simply laid there with my hands and feet up out of the water and never even got my head wet. When I flipped over and attempted to swim the breast stroke, I soon found that it was impossible because my feet floated out of the water on my kick. I’ve never felt anything like it before in my life. Many of the tourists in the area were scooping the mud from the sea floor and smearing it over their faces and bodies as if in a spa. Shops all through Jordan sale Dead Sea facial mud promoting that it is excellent for the skin,
so Tessa and I gave it a shot. In the process, a small drip of water got into my eye which felt as if I’d poured rubbing alcohol directly into it. Squealing like a girl, I fled the water and headed to the nearest shower. Don't worry, I wasn't permanently blinded.
After my last journal, Kelly Gregory e-mailed to inform me that our mutual friend from high school, Jennifer Addox, was presently living in Jordan and had been for the past eight years. Upon my arrival I shot her an e-mail and learned that she lived in Amman. After my day of touring the biblical sites of the Dead Sea region, I joined Jennifer and her husband for dinner at one of their favorite spots. It was so neat to she her after fourteen years and catch up. Her husband, who is a local Jordanian that attended the University of Tennessee, ordered enough food to feed an army and we stuffed ourselves over some good conversation. Jennifer and her husband have two children and are so cute together. I wish them the best and look forward to seeing them again whenever they’re stateside.
On my last day in
Jordan, I joined my Dutch friends on a trip north to the Roman ruins of Jerash (Gerasa). The ancient site was fascinating; especially after learning that 90 percent of the ruins are still unexcavated. The giant stone pillars and crumbled structures were accompanied by rolling hills of green and red flower petals that added to the ambiance. After our morning of climbing over ancient rubble, we returned to Amman where the girls treated me to my first water pipe (nargileh). In many of the restaurants and cafés of the Middle East large, glass water pipes can be ordered to enjoy a flavorful smoke…but in my case a hacking cough and a headache. I soon bid the girls farewell and prepared to head to the Promised Land.
My time in Jordan revealed a side of the Middle East that I never knew existed. Stories of danger and loathing for Westerners have always clouded my thoughts of this region of the world. Jordan’s warm and friendly citizens made my stay such a pleasant experience and the beauty and history that encompasses the country has left me overwhelmed. Next on my biblical journey through the Middle East is the enigmatic country of
Israel. So, until then, take care and I’ll talk to you soon.
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Dennis McCutcheon
non-member comment
Rock City
Hey Jeremy, Awesome pictures of Petra - beats Rock City all to pieces. I always enjoy your BLOG. Keep it up bro. Sincerely Dennis