Cold desert

On our last night in Petra we phoned around to a couple guides in the Wadi Rum area (southern Jordan). Finally getting a hold of one we were given a quote on a price for desert: camping accommodations, camel tours, and transportation to and from the sight. After putting down the phone in the hotel room it immediately rang and it was one of the guides who I could not reach earlier who had my number on his “missed calls”. I told him we had already booked a tour and said sorry we wouldn’t need his help; whereupon he asked me what price I was given and gave us a lower one. My first mistake was talking any further than “hello” with him and my second mistake was then telling my travel partners the new situation and lower prices.



Obviously intrigued they agreed to take this guide instead, so I had to call back to the first one and tell him not to find camels because we would NO LONGER need his help. He asked me what price we got from the other man and told me that people like this other man run scams on tourists, promote child labor, hike up prices, and are not listed in Lonely Planet travel books (like himself), not having a Lonely Planet for Jordan I had to take his word on it, third mistake.

Obviously concerned about many aspects of safety we chose to go with our original quote and with yet another phone call to cancel another trip we were set. Don’t barter on the telephone, it’s a recipe for disaster; all the things the first guide warned us that other guides would do to us, he did (kept money we paid him for national park tickets, used child labor, had higher prices for less).

I by no means measured the value of my trip in money; it was beyond price in what I took away from it. But looking back you always find little things you would have liked to change.



We mounted our camels as they were sitting down and then without spurs or reigns wrestled to stay on them as they stood up. A camel rises methodically from rear to front and this puts you at quite a challenge because of the shift of weight and great incline/decline.



Riding a camel is much like a horse. It is a bit slower of a ride and gait because of the longer strides taken; front and rear legs of the same side move at the same time. It is not as bumpy as a horse, from what I remember, and you let your shoulders roll with the movement giving you the air of a dignitary.



After four hours, 12 kilometers, and three sightseeing stops we arrived at camp. The breaks were needed during the ride as I am not used to saddles. We stopped at a spring named after TE Lawrence, a huge sand dune (which we climbed), and a mountain fissure.


During the ride we were all smiles; laughing at the chance to ride a camel and enjoying even more unbelievable views. My camera really cannot capture the scope a person has out in the desert, the freedom, space, and ability to get lost in thought and reality. I can see how you can get disorientated, as many precipices look alike and the distances between them seem short but are actually quite far.




I felt like I was being guided through a painting. The sky was a beautiful blue with wisps of clouds and something about the air made it seem like the bluffs were on the other side of glass, yet the colors were bold and flowed steadily.



We got to camp and were introduced to the volunteers, accommodations, and facilities. They decline in that order. Let me elucidate.



The people were great, from all over the world with different stories and reasons for doing what they were doing. They were funny, outgoing, and knowledgeable. They are the kind of people that after you talk to them, you want to go out and challenge yourself.





The tents were thick cloth with woven mat floors. Our beds were old mattresses with thick blankets, neither seemed to have been washed in a while. We slept in our clothes not because we needed the extra layer for warmth but for an aesthetic boundary to ease our minds. Early in the morning, still dark out, I was in a deep dream and in my mind I heard a “shake…shake…shake” like a bag of sand or flower seeds being shaken. Immediately I was out of my dream and wide awake, I’m thinking snake. It was pitch black in the tent and I had no light within reach. All I can picture is this humongous cobra rising next to my head ready to strike, I mean I am fearing for my life.



Out of the corner of my mouth I whisper to Johannes and Martin to wake up. Johannes does, and after I beg him to turn on a light we see nothing out of the ordinary. I grab my camera, lights go off, and we lay back down and not even 30 seconds later it happens again. I turn my camera light on and see nothing. Johannes says, “oh its nothing, go to sleep”.


I search, banging my shoes on the woven mat, to no avail and then lie back down. A minute or so passes and all of a sudden Johannes bolts up and turns on his light saying the sound is by him now. I put my arms behind my head, lie on my back, smile, and say “oh its nothing, go to sleep” as he proceeds to bang his shoes on the mat. We didn’t find anything and at breakfast were told that more than likely it was a mouse or an insect.





The camp had a small generator connected to lights in only the most important of places. I failed to familiarize myself with the bathroom before the cover of darkness and after dinner had to use my camera flash in order to navigate. I felt like I was in a horror movie not only because after I took each picture and then looked at the screen to see what lay ahead of me, half expecting a killer or ghost to appear on it, the toilets were rancid and offensive.

Don't let me leave you with a bad image, I loved this trip. It was the anti-Israel and it only helps me gain more of an insight on the differences between cultures and the mind states that continue to separate races, religions, and cultures. Unbelievable.

South to Petra

We caught a mini-bus south to Wadi Musa on Wednesday. It took most of the day and upon being dropped off in the middle of the small town we looked to check ourselves into an inexpensive hotel. We found a gem: with a fountain out front, in-door pool, sauna, massages (didn’t feel the need), TV, and warm showers.

We woke up fairly early Thursday in order to hike around Petra, ancient city (1 mile away). If you are not familiar with Petra off the top of your head, one of its boasts is the Treasury (gets name from an Egyptian Pharaoh storing his treasure here) a large stone carved tomb beautifully captured in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

The Treasury

We entered the old city limits just after 8am and headed down a dusty trail lined with rank stables of mules, horses, and camels. Walking by this is the test, because if you can make it by without succumbing to the putrid smell or shelling out your meager stipend (hhhmmm, Br. Paul) for the luxury of hired transport the Siq that awaits you is amazing.



The Siq leaves me rapt with wonder. It is a soaring natural rock hallway, that which turns and winds creating slants and angles that leave you curious and excited to explore what lies next. At times the path is wide enough to accommodate a highway yet the high sides create a cover wide enough that only a person could slip through.

Siq

Along both walls there is a sophisticated canal system (for the time it was built), which flows (down) and hugs the curves. The walls are beautiful in their own right, showing the layers of sedimentation through rich colors and design.

Siq walls

Not knowing the extent of the Siq or the length we had traveled, the end caught me by surprise. We rounded the last turn and through the narrow fracture I could just make out elements of a construction. The corridor ended and opened into a large locale busy with people bartering for rides, taking photographs, sitting and eating/drinking, and walking onward.

Looking back at the end of the Siq

The Treasury was immense in front of me and I was still a good 100 yards away. We walked up to it and with each step the pillars on the front face seemed to grow higher and higher, until they connected with thick stone caps and ledges that led to higher sills which turned into the sharp angles of the roof.

We're hiking

From the Treasury it is about another hour and a half straight hike to the top of another mountain where there is yet another gorgeous stone structure, called the Monastery. It was early in the day and we had planned to spend the whole day in Petra so we sidetracked on one of the many alternate hiking loops.




We began to climb these steep stairs that I’m surprised did not wash off the mountain because of the incline. We hiked to one of the highest points in Petra, used as a sacrificial altar originally. From here we took a breather and looked out onto Jordan; dark brown ribbed cliffs sticking up from a tan floor.



Our hike consisted of many views like this and 4 hours later we reached our goal, the Monastery.

Monastery

We unpacked and ate lunch looking out over Jordan. I wondered if all the people who were selling items along the trail or lived in the area ever got sick of the views, if they were exposed to them so much that the grandeur of it all was lost.



It’s hard to describe the paradoxical feeling atop these mountains. You are like a king sitting on top if this enormous throne looking out at your vast dominion. But you can see other peaks off in the distance at the boundary of your sight and if you were to go to these peaks and look further you would see more peaks again at the boundary of your sight and you realize how small you are and how you cannot possibly match the natural physical magnificence of these landforms.

Ate lunch looking out over this view (it's better without me)

Our feet were dragging by the end of the day and the pool was an oasis in the desert.

Hiking up to the Monastery

East into Jordan

You will have to check out the Picasa link (under Pics to the right), which allows me to upload albums from my computer directly for you to view on the web. I’ll still post some pics.


All five volunteers were given seven free days and we chose to explore our neighbor to the east, Jordan. This trip will come in multiple posts.

Thomas, Martin, me, ML, Johannes in Amman

We booked the first three nights of our trip and then figured we would wing it from there on. We left Sunday morning after breakfast. We caught the bus to the border and coming out on the Jordan side I realized “I was not in Kansas anymore”.

The unwritten codes change drastically. The USA is no longer the friend from afar. Here in Israel, while I’ve never really received a joyous reaction from someone after responding that I come from America, a nonchalant demeanor can maybe be considered the best one can receive. In Jordan the people are friendly, however when I answered that I came from America I did not receive the same “Jordan welcomes you”, that the Germans received.

There is so much pride in each citizen for their King. Their sentences start with "My King (does this, or thinks this)...". His picture is up everywhere over the country from billboards to posters and pictures in shops and markets. He came off to me as a leader who looks out for all the people.

We caught a private taxi to Irbid, where we would catch a bus to Amman, the capital city. Jordan has glimpses of an industrialized country but lacks a great infrastructure to push it that little bit further. From what I experienced the public transportation system is a riddle, roads are not well engineered, and housing is still very poor. Many of the houses on the drive to Irbid were unfinished, showing rebar sticking out the top.

Amman amphitheater (big one, there was another smaller one)

Traveling with five guys its tough to find one taxi to fit us comfortably. For the long drives we would take two but for shorter trips we would cram into one. Lucky me, being the biggest I got to sit shotgun.

I don't know if you can see the houses on the hills (back left), but they are there.

In Amman we stayed in a shabby hostel that was quite similar to the poor conditions braved in Tel Aviv a while back. We toured around the city for the first afternoon visiting an old Roman part of the city consisting of two amphitheaters, high stone pillars, and a giant square.

Stone pillars at old Roman city remains

We then hiked up to one of the highest points in the central city where more parts of Roman ruins are preserved. We looked out onto greater Amman. It is huge. You look out over this rolling city and it seems to never end, houses upon houses.

Amman was endless

We hired a private taxi to drive us around to some close places, first being desert castles. As we left the city it quickly turns into desert. We headed east on the only road going that direction. You almost feel like you are on another planet; looking out both windows and seeing only flat red/tan land for as far as the eye can see. It is a very lonely feeling being on this little road out in the middle of nowhere.

Desert

I did not realize how close I was to Iraq, Saudi Arabia, and the other Arab countries until we saw the mileage signs. This road leading east is heavily trafficked by large semi-trucks sometimes with even two trailers. Many goods are made in Saudi Arabia and shipped out to the other Arab nations.





We toured 3 desert castles, the old Roman city Jerash, and the largest Mosque in Jordan in the two days we were driving with the taxi.

The Blue Mosque, Amman (largest Mosque in Jordan)

At each site the locals treated us hospitably. The food was delicious and mostly we ate traditional Bedouin food, or so we were told. Many meals consisting of: pita or another form of fresh, hot baked flatbread, assorted salads (vegetables), hummus, and some grilled meat.

Inside the Blue Mosque.

The ceiling to the Blue Mosque

Over the two days our driver gave us his opinion on many subjects, which is what we wanted from the people we met. It should be no surprise to you that the US has a poor reputation in the Arab nations. It came as no surprise to me, but what I had trouble with was when our driver told me to tell people who I met that I came from some other nation, i.e. Brazil, Australia, Bolivia, maybe in fear of violence, harassment, or higher prices. I was amused at the idea at first, finding it funny, but as the day wore on we were repeatedly asked where we were from. One of the Germans would respond “Germany” and then ML and I would just let them assume we were all from there.

Desert castle in the middle of nowhere

Another desert castle

I never thought I was that strongly attached to being American, aside from the worldwide sport competitions and army troop designations I don’t put much concern into it. This silent act of shunning part of my distinctiveness built up inside me in the pit of my stomach. It is incomprehensible for me that someone would have to deny part of who they are, almost to be ashamed of it, and now maybe I have just a small glimpse of what it’s like to be outside of the safeguard of being a white American. I didn’t last till lunch of the next day before I was replying “and America” after the Germans.

We were invited into the Bedouin at all of the castles tent to drink tea and smoke nagila (tobacco water pipe). It is black tea and is loaded with sugar, the tobacco is on occaision a smooth smoke (didn't know what "smooth smoke" meant until this year) and tastes great

Peaceful New Year's Resolutions

I arrived back [in Tabgha] from Jerusalem today after a two-day tutorial on working "the books"; I have been delegated some financial duties. I am eager for the challenge of a new assignment, kind of feeling like Andy DuFresense in the Shawshank Redemption, maybe not his same bookkeeping practices the monastery would like me to maintain but more his aptitude for the task.

Getting my "swerve on" New Year's Eve/Day.

While in Jerusalem I took advantage of the chance to pray at the Western Wall. This is a daunting act, for when you approach the Wall you immeadiatly stand out from those who are wearing either a Kipa or one of the wide-brimmed black hats, and even the simple process of placing a cardboard disposable (there free to use for those who are not Jewish) brings out how unnatural it is for you (Jewish custom to cover one's head in reverence to God). Men pray on the far left section of the wall and women on the far right (when facing from the West) and I'll admit I was a bit intimidated as I walked by the groups of men swaying and chanting prayers (who in my mind stared at me knowing I was green at this experience) to find my own little crevice to inhabit.

We came upon marathon runners 10 miles from Tabgha, notice the Kipa on the middle man.

On the drive back from Jerusalem with two monks, we were stopped leaving the West Bank (you drive from Israel-West Bank-Israel on the certain route we took) by the military security. With the recent military invasion of Gaza and ultimatum given by Israel, a rejoinder by Hamas calling for retaliation and unending resistance has led to even stricter border control and more frequent random person/cargo checks.

Tiberias Marathon Jan 8th.

While we had nothing to fear, being innocent and ordinary, getting stopped by men armed with automatic machine guns and trained gaurd dogs caused a little anxiety and we were addressed in a brisk and impersonal manner which led to some uncomfort in my fellow travelers. I was by no means cool and relaxed, but my mind was pre-occupied with the book I was reading at the time and I had drank 3 glasses of coffee and about a liter of water before we left and that seatbelt was getting tighter and tighter on the ever-so-bumpy road making the break a Godsend to me. Only after driving five minutes down the road when we saw another 20-some armed military vehicles parked in preparation for when the need of an emergency roadblock would transpire did I realize the "Gaza situation" is an "Israel situation".

Reading on the rooftop at Dormition Abbey

This country is quite small (compared to US state size smaller than New Jersey) so I am far from oblivious about daily happenings in any part of the Holy Land, but until something really effects me, the dial on my naivity meter reads "oblivious". While the following self-realization is going to surprise my loved ones, I've found I don't worry about things I can't control. Yes I can control booking a flight home, but there is no need for that right now.

Dormition's Church Dome

Happy Birthday Grams! I love you!