Friendly Jordan

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I thoroughly enjoyed my time in the West Bank. Five days was not nearly enough; I would have liked to have seen more of Jerusalem and Bethlehem, and gone a bit further afield to Jericho, Ramallah, and so on. But the cold reality of a plane to catch in Amman, Jordan in two days time couldn't be ignored.

Farewell to the West Bank and Israel

I checked out of my hotel in Jerusalem and inquired about taxis to the Allenby / King Hussein crossing. The receptionist made a call on her phone, spoke a bit in rapid Arabic, and I heard the number "85." I assumed this was the price in Israeli shekels (about $18 US). Imagine my surprise when she hung up and said, "A taxi to Allenby is eighty-five dollars." I just about keeled over and I'm sure my eyes bugging out would have made for a great picture.

Eighty-five dollars for a 30-mile ride was a bit too steep for me. I walked over to the Damascus Gate taxi ranks in an attempt to find a shared taxi. I stopped the first driver I saw and inquired about a taxi to Allenby. He led me over to another taxi filled with Palestinians heading to Jordan. I climbed in, and off we went, retracing the route of my crossing from a few days ago, going by Israeli settlements, the Dead Sea, Jericho, and Greek Orthodox monasteries. The Palestinian man's voice from that ride a few days ago echoed around in my head: This is my home. I will never leave home...

The taxi arrived at Allenby and I paid the Palestinian local price of 25 shekels (about $5 US). A far cry from eighty-five dollars... The crossing back into Jordan was uneventful (the Israelis don't care so much when you leave the country), and within an hour I was back in Amman.

"Welcome to Jordan!"

I mentioned Amman briefly in a previous entry, noting its cleanliness, modern buildings, and friendly people. I lost count of how many times I heard "Welcome to Jordan!" At first I thought the friendliness might have been a fluke, but after several very cordial encounters with Jordanians, I decided Amman was a pretty friendly place. There was the policeman who came up to me while I was at an intersection and asked if I needed anything. We started chatting, and he had worked with U.S. peacekeeping forces in Kosovo. He had nothing but good things to say about the Americans there. As I took my leave, he said, "If you need any help here while in Jordan, ask any policeman." Another time I was walking back to my hotel. I stopped to pull out my map to try and find my bearings (Amman is built on several hills, and the streets can be confusing to navigate). A shopowner came out and asked if he could help. He gave me directions, and after the ubiquitous question "Where are you from?" he smiled broadly. "Welcome to Jordan!"

I thought there might have been some resentment towards America after the dreadful Amman hotel bombings the month before by Iraqi suicide bombers. But I saw no evidence of this at all. What I did see were pictures of King Abdullah (and his late father) everywhere. And almost every storefront had a poster with an image of the Jordanian flag and messages like "We are all Jordanian," or "Jordan first." Clearly Jordanians had come together in the wake of the bombings, much like America in the days and weeks after 9/11, when American flags appeared everywhere. Previously Jordan had been an oasis of tranquility and stability amongst some very tough neighbors. I only hope this will continue to be the case.

While Amman has a very friendly character about it, there isn't too much to see in the way of sights, unfortunately. The highlights can be visited easily in a day or two. There is a huge Roman amphitheatre in the center of town. (I've seen several Roman amphitheatres in my travels, from Morocco to France and Italy, and this is the largest one I've ever seen. No, I haven't visited Rome.) It was very impressive. And very big. There is also a citadel built on top of one of Amman's hills, with great views over the city. From here the calls to prayer reverberated around the hills and valleys in a soothing refrain. The calls seemed to be synchronized, in contrast to Cairo, where the cacophony of multiple muezzins clashing and competing with each other can drive one to the edge of madness.

Jordan's most famous sites, such as Petra (think Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade) and Jerash are several hours away from Amman. I would have needed several days just at Petra to see everything. Since my trip to the Holy Land for Christmas took precedence on this trip, I wasn't able to make it to Petra. Next time, in sha' Allah.

A sort of homecoming

One evening after a day of walking around Amman I went downtown to try and find some dinner. It was only 6pm, rather early for dining by local standards, but I was hungry. My guidebook listed several local restaurants, but "Shaher's Penthouse Cafeteria" sounded the most intriguing (I don't think I've ever seen the words "penthouse" and "cafeteria" next to each other before). The guidebook had this to say: "An atmospheric indoor dining area and an outdoor terrace overlooking the street." The outdoor terrace was out (this being late December, it was quite chilly in Amman), but an atmospheric indoor area sounded all right to me.

I walked up a stairway, rounded a corner, and came upon a man smoking a sheesha (water pipe) and watching TV. He was the only person in the entire place. Faded posters on the walls matched the equally drab tables and chairs. "Is it possible to eat now?" I asked. "Yes, of course!" Another man appeared from the kitchen to take my order. We all started chatting, and they picked up on my Egyptian pronunciations for everything. "We are both Egyptian too," one of the men said, and it was a sort of homecoming as we all lapsed into Egyptian colloquial. They were quite amused by me, an American speaking Arabic (with an Egyptian accent nonetheless).

The movie on the TV became more melodramatic and the sheesha smoke became thicker as we discussed Egypt, world cup soccer, and Arab films. Finally one of the men said, "Tell me, what do Americans think of Arabs?" This was a tricky question. I diplomatically said, "Most Americans probably don't know too much about Arabs or the Middle East." I didn't want to say what I really thought: "Sadly, I think a lot of Americans equate the word 'Arab' with 'terrorist' due to the distorted view of what they see on TV." My newfound Egyptian friend said wistfully, "I would like to go to America, but it will never happen." And he's probably right. Lots of people want to come to America for the work opportunities, freedoms, and so on, but it's an almost insurmountable challenge for foreigners (particularly from the Middle East) to get a visa and actually go.

As for the meal itself, it was fantastic - and huge. Shish tawouk (grilled chicken), salad, enough pita bread to feed an army, French fries, and finally yogurt to top it all off. I waddled out of the restaurant, saying goodbye to the Egyptians. My guidebook was correct - it was an atmospheric place all right.

Security risk

The last 36 hours of my trip were a blur of airports and narrowly-made connections. After I arrived in Amsterdam for my flight back to Seattle, I figured I was all set. Ironically, I received the most in-depth grilling of my entire trip at Schiphol airport. Not even the Israeli border interrogation was this thorough. Dutch security officials were interviewing everyone before they boarded the plane, and when my turn came up, the man asked me what countries I had visited. He didn't like my response of "Egypt, Jordan, Israel, and Palestine." He also didn't buy my story that I went over to Egypt to study Arabic just for personal enrichment. "Did you interact with any locals there?" he asked. This seemed like a daft question. Of course I did; I didn't shun locals and speak only to foreigners. After another ten minutes or so of badgering, he consulted with his superior, and they stamped my ticket "for further security measures." At this point I was fully prepared to have my luggage (and me) turned inside out. But the stewardess either didn't see the stamp on my ticket or didn't care, because I breezed through security after that.

Less than twelve hours later I touched down in Seattle and was back among the familiar. As the Egyptians would say after concluding any kind of trip or journey, al-hamdu lillah aa-salaamah. Thank God for your safe arrival.

All good things...

This concludes the travelogue for my trip to the Middle East. I would like to thank all of you for reading it and spreading the word - over 2,500 hits and counting! Take care,

Chris

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Comments

[Barbara]

JORDAN - LOVED IT
I stumbled upon this while looking for a good map of the Midle East. I was in Jordan last fall for a week and loved it. I taught Egyptians in Egypt many years ago and was in Jordan then for brief visits (mostly West Bank). It was a little bit like "coming home". Like you, what little Arabic I remembered was Egypt flavored, but everyone loved my attempts. We saw Petra, Jerash and the Dead Sea (a revisit), rode 4 wheel trucks in Wadi rum, etc., etc. You definitely need to go back. It's to bad more people don't know about this wonderful little country.