A Farewell to the Middle East!

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The blank desert scenery flew past my window as I headed north through Jordan. I knew that just beyond the flat, brown expanses along the road, the fabled crusader fortress of Shobak Castle, rose up in the distant hills, but, despite a strong urge to see it, that wasn’t where I was headed. After six days of wonderfully active exploring in the canyons and mountains of Petra, I was exhausted and I just wanted to rest, so I reluctantly decided to skip the remote, mountaintop citadel. Instead I was on an overcrowded bus bound for Amman, Jordan’s capital. My journey through the Middle East was down to its last week and I no longer had the luxury of an itinerary-less existence on the road. Amman was the end of the road for me, but there were still things I wanted to see. It was my intention to get a group of travelers together at the hotel to split costs on a whirlwind tour of some of the nearby sites, such as the Dead Sea and some of the desert palaces, but even the best intentions sometimes fail…



I shared a taxi from the bus station to the center of town with a comically overwhelmed and somewhat whiny traveler. I got dropped off on a sidewalk near the heart of the ancient city. I hoisted my backpack and tried to figure out where I was. The first road sign I came to was written in Arabic script. I looked around and noticed that every sign was written in the same script. Despite having been in the Middle East for a few months, it was the first time that I had seen signs that didn’t have an English translation below the script. Luckily, the six months I had spent learning the Arabic alphabet a few years before had come back to the surface over the previous weeks. I slowly deciphered the street sign and then I found it on my map. Then I walked in the direction I thought I needed to go in and found a cross street. While I deciphered that sign a few smiling men came up to me and read the sign aloud and then smiled and pointed towards a hotel across the street and said, “Farah Hotel” – I guess the backpack and the befuddled look on my face was a common sight on that corner. I thanked the men and then I headed across the street.



Two different travelers had recommended the Farah Hotel to me when I was at Petra. It was a hotel and a hostel that catered to independent travelers and they offered daytrips to many of the places I wanted to see in the area. The friendly man at the counter welcomed me to the hotel and quickly got me into a slightly smoky room a few floors above. I filtered a few liters of tap water and then I headed back down to the lobby. I talked to the man at the counter about the tours and he said that they required a minimum of four people to go, so I put my name on the sign-up sheet for the two I wanted to go on and then I headed out into the dusty streets to take a quick look around and get some dinner. That night I collapsed on one of the beautiful couches in the lobby and watched a movie on the TV with the hotel staff and then I went back to the room and drifted off to some much needed sleep.



The following morning started with a simple breakfast at the communal table in the lobby. There were a few other hotel guests there and we talked about the different things to do in the Amman area. One of them had been living at the hotel for several months while she learned Arabic and she was a wealth of information. After breakfast I checked with the proprietor to see if there were any other people that had been interested in the tours. He frowned and showed me the sign-up sheet with my name all alone at the top. He told me that there were not a lot of tourists that time of year and that it would be difficult to find enough people for the trip – I still had several days in town, so I remained hopeful. I grabbed my journal and some water and I headed off to explore Amman. I visited the beautifully restored Roman amphitheater and Odeon and learned a bit about the ancient Roman city of Philadelphia, which is what Amman was known as in Roman times. I spent the morning hours exploring the city’s streets on foot. When my stomach started rumbling inquiries about lunch I went and found a popular restaurant in one of the bazaar areas. The place was filled to capacity and every table was full, so I sat down in an empty spot at a table with two local men. We didn’t share a common language, but we ended up having a lot of fun talking and gesturing and laughing our way through the meal – It is strange, but I remember that meal as one of the most enjoyable conversations I had had in my travels, despite not having understood much of what was said. After lunch I found a lovely teahouse near a grand mosque. I took a seat in the covered balcony above the noisy street and sipped delicious black tea with a sprig of fresh mint and I got caught up writing in my journal. After several delicious cups of tea I headed back to the hotel, stopping at a falafel stand for a quick dinner on the way. I spent the rest of the evening sitting in the common area reading, and chatting with the hotel staff while we watched another movie.



The next morning I quickly ate my breakfast and then I headed out the door. In our discussions the night before, the manager of the hotel had told me how I could get to one of the places I wanted to visit using a combination of public busses and taxis, so I decided to go on an impromptu adventure. The streets were empty when I stepped out onto the curb, but I didn’t have to wait long for a taxi to appear. The taxi whisked me away to the bus station on the outskirts of town and dropped me off in front of the bus that was going in my direction. A few minutes later I was nestled into my seat near the front of the bus, so that the driver could let me know when it was time to get off. I took out my book and joined Alexander Von Humboldt for another grand adventure in the ‘Equinoctial regions of the New Continent’, while I waited for more passengers. About an hour later the bus’s engine roared to life and I looked up to see that most of the seats had been filled – It was finally time to go.



I watched the scenery fly by as we headed north. The road signs were illegible at the speed we were traveling, so I contented myself to just watch the landscape. We pulled off of the highway and then made a few stops to drop off passengers. Each time the driver met my questioning look and shook his head – Not yet! As it turned out, the driver didn’t need to tell me when to get off. We pulled off of the road into a dusty lot beside a vast ruined city that couldn’t have been anyplace other than Jerash. The driver looked over his shoulder, smiled and nodded at me as he pointed towards the ancient stones. I thanked him as I walked past and then I was on my own again. It was difficult to tell where the entrance to the ruin was, so I picked a direction and started walking. Before long it was clear that I was going away from the ruin, so I started to turn around. A fruit seller about my age stepped out from behind his truck and blocked my path. I said hello and he just smiled a sinister smile. Every time I tried to walk around him he blocked my way again. I did my best to keep an open mind about the situation, but when he forcibly grabbed my arm and started pulling me toward his truck I had had enough. I twisted in a way that broke his hold on me and then I shoved him aside and quickly walked away. When I found the entrance to the ruin a few minutes later an older, distinguished looking man walked up to me and, in excellent English, apologized for the fruit seller’s behavior. He said he had seen the exchange and told me that, while the kid had just been joking around, it was no way to treat visitors. I walked with the man for a short distance and then I said farewell, bought my ticket and headed into one of ancient Rome’s great cities.



I didn’t know much about Jerash, known as Gerasa in ancient times, so I had no idea what to expect. My first view of the ruin was the monumental Arch of Hadrian, which had been erected in 129AD to commemorate a visit to the city by Emperor Hadrian. I walked through the great central gate that passed through the arch and then headed down a long walkway beside the hippodrome. About half way down the hippodrome I was greeted by several Roman legionnaires in beautiful crimson tunics and silver armor. They told me that there was about to be a show in the hippodrome. I am generally immune to the draw of the ‘for tourists’ shows, but there was something about their uniforms and the shiny armor that intrigued me. They could tell that I was going to be a hard sell, so the leader smiled and said, “There will be sword fights, a gladiator show, and an action-packed chariot race!” I was sold. I handed over the additional Dinars for the show and they pointed me through a gateway in the massive hippodrome walls. I took a seat in the ancient stone bleachers and I waited for the crowd to build.



The hippodrome was a big dirt racetrack in the shape of a U with a narrow, wood divider down the middle. At the flat end of the track there was a giant stone façade with several arched gates passing through it. It took about twenty minutes for the crowds to trickle in and take a seat. At the appointed time a legion (OK, not a full legion) of fully armed Roman soldiers marched along the wall of the hippodrome and stopped in front of us. A legionary in his crimson tunic and gleaming armor climbed up into the seats and narrated the show for us. He explained the different tactics and weapons that allowed the Roman Legion to conquer such a vast area in their heyday. While he spoke the legion acted out the formations. The most recognizable formation was known as the tortoise, which involved linking their large, curved shields in a way that formed an impenetrable armor that protected the soldiers from arrows and ground assaults. Throughout the show the legion repeatedly broke out into staged battles to demonstrate the use of their weapons.



Eventually the legion stepped aside and several men walked in wearing simple, white tunics with red, or green sashes. Some of the men had simple leather armor and all of them had weapons. Our narrator asked us, “Are you ready for the gladiators?” We unanimously shouted, “yes!” and he explained a bit about the history of the gladiators. The gladiator contests were a lot of fun. There were several real sword fights and the action was fairly intense – It was very exciting, and, unlike most of the ‘for tourist’ shows I have seen, the clanging of steel on steel proved that their weapons were real! At the end of each battle the narrator gave us the power to choose the loser’s fate. A thumb up meant he had fought valiantly and his life was spared. A thumb to the side, not down like the movies like to show, condemned the gladiator to death. Our group was very nice and only issued one thumb to the side.



The gladiators and the legion marched out of the hippodrome. At the far end of the track two chariots came out from an opening in the wall – Our narrator explained that the chariots would have burst out of the arches at the opposite end of the hippodrome in ancient times, but that it was too dangerous to do for the show (the fact that the track had not been restored beyond the arches probably had something to do with it!) As the chariots approached our end of the Hippodrome, we learned about chariot racing. We learned that the traditional number of laps was seven and that chariot racers were celebrities in the community. We also learned that, despite what the movies show, there were never ever blades sticking off of the axels. The first chariot was pulled by two dark brown horses and was piloted by a man in a ruby red tunic. The second chariot was pulled by two white horses and piloted by a man in an emerald green tunic. I was pulling for the green chariot. The race started with my chariot jumping out in the lead, but the red chariot passed it in the first turn. Around and around they went for five or six laps. The drumming of the hooves on the dirt track, the cheering of the crowd and the nonstop, close action made the race a lot of fun. In the end the red chariot was victorious. The chariots came to a stop in front of us. The legion and the gladiators marched back in and joined the chariot pilots in saluting us. We cheered loudly in return and then the show was over. I left the hippodrome having been thoroughly entertained and glad that I had participated – The show had exceeded all of my expectations and ended up being a highlight of my time in Jerash.



I headed through another large, arched stone gate and entered the main part of the ancient city. I paused to take in the large ruin of the Temple of Zeus, which was being restored and was mostly fenced off, and then I continued into the massive, oval forum, Jerash’s most famous feature. Most of the forum’s columns had been re-erected and supported their beautiful, ionic capitols and architraves. The graceful curve of the colonnade and the expanse of worn paving stones made it easy to visualize what the forum would have looked like in ancient times. From the forum, I followed a long, colonnaded street called the cardo, which bisected the city and led to the north gate through the city’s ancient walls. The columns lining the street were in varying stages of restoration, but the majority of them were standing erect, which made for another powerful sight. In addition to the columns, the street’s paving stones were all in place, though warped with age. Some of the stones still had deep grooves worn in them from hundreds of years worth of chariot and wagon traffic – It isn’t often that you find easily recognized remnants of ordinary, everyday use in these grand old ruins, so it was a treat. The cardo also had its original sewer running under the pavers, which was neat to see.



Despite nearly a century of excavation and restoration, most of Jerash is still buried beneath more than a thousand years of dirt. The rolling mounds of desert beyond the columns looked natural in formation, but a closer look revealed scattered stone blocks and haphazardly skewed columns growing up out of the sands of time. The ruins are in such a well-preserved state that Jerash has been called “Pompei of the Middle East”, though there was never a volcano to blanket the city in ash. Most of the restoration work focused on a few of the most important buildings, so, as I walked, there were several unexcavated areas separated by vast, partially restored temple complexes. I walked quickly along the colonnaded street until I reached a second colonnaded street that crossed the one I was on. It seemed like the area beyond the intersection was where the majority of the excavations had taken place, so I slowed my pace and took in the sights. I came to a lovely stairway that led up into the Byzantine basilica. Most of the vast church’s walls and columns had not been re-erected, but the stone floors, a small fountain, and a few of its stairways had been restored and were really lovely. As I explored the rubble-filled expanses of dirt and ruin around the basilica, I came across a restored room with a huge re-creation of the oldest known water-powered stone saw, which dated from Byzantine times. The saw consisted of a large wooden wheel, much like a smaller version of the ones that used to run the old grist mills, a large frame to support the saw, and a linkage system hooked up to the wheel that drove the blades back and fourth. The saw blades were parallel iron bars about six feet long, six inches wide and a quarter inch thick. Blocks of marble would have been positioned under the blades and a sand-slurry mixture would have been poured over the blades as they moved back and forth. There was a column section that had been partially cut through in ancient times on display, which was the basis for the re-creation of the saw.



I returned to the colonnaded street and continued walking. A short time later came the impressive Nymphaeum, which was a large, beautifully restored fountain. After the Nymphaeum came the most important structure in Jerash, the massive Temple of Artemis. The temple was built on the highest knoll in the city and had impressive proportions. It was completed in 150 AD and it stood intact until it was converted into a fortress during the crusades and subsequently burned by the crusaders. Eleven of its twelve giant Corinthian columns were still standing, towering over the ruined city. To get to the temple I had to climb up the stairs through the Propylaem, part of the temple’s processional way, and the massive Temple Esplanade. Before I left the cardo, I took some time to examine the beautifully carved portico from the Propylaem, which was neatly organized upside down on the ground. It looked like restoration work was in progress, though I knew that it would be years before the technology and funds were such that it was ready to be re-erected – I didn’t mind being able to get a close look at the beautiful carvings!



I left the stunning cardo and walked beneath the massive Corinthian columns of the Propylaem. I paused at the top of the stairs to take in the amazing view of the main temple and then I slowly passed through the esplanade and started exploring the temple itself. The massive columns were impressive and the giant Corinthian-style capitols were some of the most beautiful I had seen anywhere and they were well preserved. I took a seat in the shadow of the columns and I took in the scene. The vast ruined city sat, mostly buried, in the foreground. There was a small river at the edge of the ruin and then the modern city of Jerash rose up behind it – It was an amazing sight!



I left the massive Temple of Artemis and continued along a small dirt road to some excavated churches that had some amazing mosaic floors. I marveled at the craftsmanship for a while and then I continued to the large, southern theater, which sat on a hill beside the Temple of Zeus. I climbed up to the top row of seats in the theater and watched as a few men performed an impromptu concert down on stage. Their bagpipes and drum resonated throughout the theater and made for a nice, but short show. When the men finished playing I decided to say farewell to Gerasa. It was getting late and I had no idea where to catch the bus back to Amman – If I missed it I would have to take a very expensive taxi ride back, which didn’t sound appealing. I made my way down the hill to the oval forum and then I retraced my steps past the hippodrome. I paused before I went through Hadrian’s Arch and looked back towards the ancient city. I knew that Jerash would be the last ruined city I would see on my grand journey through the Greco-Roman realm. I turned back toward the arch and I walked beneath its ancient stones, back into the modern world.



I spent the next hour searching for the bus to Amman. I found my way to the big bus station in town, only to find out that the bus didn’t leave from there. A helpful man in a minivan that was dropping his friend off at the station tried to explain to me where I could find the bus. The confused look on my face told him that my Arabic wasn’t up to the task, so he motioned me into the van and he drove me across town and dropped me off on a corner across from the ruin where a bus was sitting and said, “Amman”. I smiled and said, “shucran” and he smiled and nodded and then drove away. The man on the bus confirmed that it was going to Amman, so I took a seat and waited for the requisite number of passengers. This time it took more than an hour, but eventually the bus filled and we were off. I took a taxi from the bus station back to the hotel, arriving about an hour after dark. I grabbed a quick dinner and then I headed off to sleep. The man at the counter waved at me and asked me how my trip had gone – It was clear that he had been getting a little worried that I hadn’t shown back up yet and was relived to see me!



I spent my final three days in Amman taking it easy. I accepted that there would be no more journeys into the countryside and, honestly, I didn’t mind. After eleven months on the road I was tired and ready to settle down for a while. I spent a lot of my time sitting and sipping tea at my favorite teahouse, while I got my journal in order. I also spent a good bit of time walking around the city.



One afternoon, I took a long walk up to the citadel on the huge bluff behind my hotel. The citadel was an ancient, fortified hill that had a lovely archaeological park on top and stunning views of the surrounding city. On top, there were several ruined structures as well as a few partially restored ones, including the beautiful domed Umayyad palace, dating from 720AD, a small, ruined Byzantine basilica from the 6^th or 7^th century, and the ruins of the Temple of Hercules, also known as the Great Temple of Amman, which was built during the reign of Emperor Marcus Aurelious near the end of the second century AD. I spent several hours walking around the Citadel taking in the peace and quiet and the lofty views out over the city. I explored the wonderfully restored domed palace and the grounds around it and I walked through the ruins of the church. My favorite structure up there was the Temple. It was badly ruined, but a large portion of the marble foundation had been restored and several of the columns had been re-erected. Looking through the columns to the rolling hills of the city beyond was a grand vista that made me wish I had brought my camera to the top. The citadel was also home to the Jordan Antiquity Museum, which housed some of the biggest archaeological treasures found in Jordan, including a collection of Neolithic statues, which were believed to be some of the world’s oldest forms of sculpture, and part of the Dead Sea Scrolls – I was surprised to find such important artifacts in such an unassuming museum, but I was glad that they had not been whisked away to some museum in Europe or America.



In the evenings I sat in the lobby of my hotel talking with several of the local men that seemed to live there. I became particularly friendly with one of the men who worked there. He told me about his family and the antics of his children and asked me a lot about America and my home. When it came time to go to the airport at the end of my last day he gladly offered to take me and we continued our discussions about Amman and life in the Middle East as we drove. I ran into a little problem with my visa going through passport control at the airport. I wasn’t surprised, since the legality of the boat I had arrived in Jordan on was questionable. I ended up going through a short interrogation with the official as he constantly asked me, “Where is the rest of your group?” Every time I answered, “I am traveling alone” and he eventually got tired of dealing with me and stamped my passport and let me go. I sat down in the waiting lounge and thought back over my time in Jordan. I had come to Jordan to see Petra and I ended up finding so much more. The list of what I had wanted to see, but didn’t was fairly substantial. I was a little sad that I had arrived in Jordan at the end of my trip. My road-weary eyes were too tired to take in all of the sights and sounds around me, but what I did see made a huge impression on me and will stay with me forever.



The Middle East will always have a special place in my heart. The exotic sights and sounds and smells tickled my senses, the people were some of the most friendly I have met anywhere, and the stunning history of the region let my imagination run wild over boundless horizons. It was sad to think that, of all of the amazing things that the Middle East has to offer the world, western media turns a blind eye to the good in their endless quest for conflict. If they would search out and report the good and ignore the bad this world we live in would be a much more peaceful place! When the time came, I boarded the plane and took my seat and said farewell to Jordan and the Middle East. I was on my way home, but, first, I had one last hurrah in the City of Light – Next stop, Paris!

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Photos

Pompeii of the Middle East
The vast ruins of Jerash. The huge hippodrome is at the top of the picture, just below the distant mountain.

Columns and Greenery
Looking through the ionic columns of the forum.

Hadrian's Arch
This was my first view of Jerash.

The Approaching Legion
The show begins in the hippodrome in Jerash.

Amazing Uniforms
I would have skipped the 'for tourists' show had it not been for the quality of their uniforms.

The Tortoise
This is one of the more famous formations - I remember seeing a sketch of this one in my elementary school textbooks.

Gladiators!
The clanging of the steel was exciting.

The Chariot Race
I was pulling for the green chariot, leading here, but the red one was victorious.

The Hippodrome
The arches at the end would have been where the chariots came from in ancient times, but the track hasn't been restored there yet.

The Oval Forum
The graceful lines of the forum make it the most famous feature of Jerash.

The Basilica
Most of the walls and columns of the basilica have not been restored, but it is still a beautiful place to explore.

The Nymphaeum
This beautiful water fountain was just past the basilica on the cardo.

Carved Stones
Part of the portico of the Propylaem, sitting on the ground waiting to be re-erected.

Stone Details
Part of the portico of the Propylaem, sitting on the ground waiting to be re-erected.

Standing Columns
Along the Cardo

Stones All in a Row
Part of the portico of the Propylaem, sitting on the ground waiting to be re-erected.

Ascending the Stairs
The Propylaem was part of the processional way for the Temple of Artemis - You can see the capitals of the distant temple at the top of the stairs.

The Temple of Artemis
The temple was in good shape until the crusaders burned it down.

Stunning Mosaics
This is the original floor of one of the many churches at Jerash.

Comments

[Ron Martin]

I"m a travelin man!
Hey Keith excellent pictures and just wanted to say that you have certainly done what most people just dream of doing, you have had such a journey and the stories that you have told are just amazing,again my hats off to you Keith, Love Ron & Patti