Contrary to my occasionally (and admittedly) slightly prejudiced beliefs about the Middle East, Jordan is probably the friendliest place I have ever had the pleasure of visiting. At first I was thrown off by it, assuming that all of this outright friendliness was a ploy to get something from me. Some money, maybe, or perhaps something more sinister. Each time I encountered a taxi driver or a waiter or a hotel owner who went out of their way to be friendly to me I reacted with a measure of distrust. Surely this one will ask for something. Each time I was surprised when it didn't happen. Was there a larger, complicated and organized plan put in place by the Jordanians to grind down the tourists and then strike when we least expected it? I have to say, I left Jordan seven hours ago, and never once did I surrender my bank account details.
Walking down the street (any street, any city, Jordan) men would casually tell us, "You're welcome." If there was time for a bit of conversation, it would be something similar to, "where are you from?" (typical saying all over the world when getting ready to offer services for hire or just outright ask for money), I could cautiously reply, "The United States." Often the only further reply would be, "I love America. You're welcome." For the first few days I would then grimace and wait for the hard sell to begin. Towards the end, I would just say thank you and smile. That's actually all they wanted to do. Welcome me to their country. How delightfully unexpected.
Walking down the street (any street, any city, Jordan) men would casually tell us, "You're welcome." If there was time for a bit of conversation, it would be something similar to, "where are you from?" (typical saying all over the world when getting ready to offer services for hire or just outright ask for money), I could cautiously reply, "The United States." Often the only further reply would be, "I love America. You're welcome." For the first few days I would then grimace and wait for the hard sell to begin. Towards the end, I would just say thank you and smile. That's actually all they wanted to do. Welcome me to their country. How delightfully unexpected.
Our delightful hotel manager in Aqaba.
After crossing into the Jordan on the banks of the Red Sea, in a city called Aqaba, Steph and I decided to stay close to home for the evening. We went on a quick walk around the old city, saw the beach, and made a beeline back to the hotel. After being on a bus for several hours, negotiating with taxi drivers, walking across the border, talking with the tourism police, dealing with visas and exit fees and passport stamps (or a lack-there-of) I was exhausted. We walked back into the hotel at close to 6pm, and asked the unreasonably friendly hotel manager where we should get dinner. His response? "I go every night to the place around the corner, I would love to invite you to go with me and my sister." Feeling a bit strange about that, but not wanting to offend him, we accepted. At dinner, he told us about his family, how he loved is job, that he wasn't married, and just to put us at ease, as single women traveling without a male escort, informed us that he was in fact, a virgin. After dinner, we all smoked hookah together (he had his own that was kept at the restaurant), and before Steph or I could argue, he paid the bill. When's the last time a hotel manager did that for you?
Sad to leave our lovely hotel, but excited for our next stop we got up early and jumped on a public bus to Petra. Petra is one of those places that I've always wanted to go (well, always since Indiana Jones) but wondered if I would ever actually make it to. It's in the middle of nowhere (hard), the Middle East (scary), and expensive (grrr). Nonetheless, five hours after leaving Aqaba I found myself on the rooftop terrace of the Petra Gate Hotel, talking to the owner about our stay at Petra over a pot of tea. Since we arrived in the afternoon he suggested we head to Little Petra for the an hour, then offered to call a taxi for us (when we were done relaxing over tea, of course). When the taxi arrived, the driver couldn't have been over 18, and also couldn't have been happier to find that his customers were two American women. He tried to make conversation, though he probably only knew 10 words in English, and stopped at a scenic overlook so we could have some nice pictures - including the two he had us take with him. He dropped us off at Little Petra with the promise of coming back in an hour to collect us. When he came back, he brought one of his friends with him - an English teacher - in an effort to communicate better with us. Little Petra itself was very cool, but I'm glad we did it first, because done at the end it might have been a bit underwhelming.
Sad to leave our lovely hotel, but excited for our next stop we got up early and jumped on a public bus to Petra. Petra is one of those places that I've always wanted to go (well, always since Indiana Jones) but wondered if I would ever actually make it to. It's in the middle of nowhere (hard), the Middle East (scary), and expensive (grrr). Nonetheless, five hours after leaving Aqaba I found myself on the rooftop terrace of the Petra Gate Hotel, talking to the owner about our stay at Petra over a pot of tea. Since we arrived in the afternoon he suggested we head to Little Petra for the an hour, then offered to call a taxi for us (when we were done relaxing over tea, of course). When the taxi arrived, the driver couldn't have been over 18, and also couldn't have been happier to find that his customers were two American women. He tried to make conversation, though he probably only knew 10 words in English, and stopped at a scenic overlook so we could have some nice pictures - including the two he had us take with him. He dropped us off at Little Petra with the promise of coming back in an hour to collect us. When he came back, he brought one of his friends with him - an English teacher - in an effort to communicate better with us. Little Petra itself was very cool, but I'm glad we did it first, because done at the end it might have been a bit underwhelming.
Amazing.
The next day was Petra. What we had been waiting for. Steph woke up humming the Indiana Jones theme in her head, and it didn't stop all day. Petra was a huge trading city back in its day, and people from all around the Middle East would visit on their way to other locations to rest and exchange their goods. Accordingly, Petra is set up to instill awe and amazement by all who visited there. The designers of the city were very successful in this mission. When you first walk into the area you walk down a gravel road that naturally funnels into a canyon. The walls of the canyon, which is only about 10-15 feet across is lined with carvings of idols and camels and traveling caravans telling the story of all the people that had once passed by here on business. Then, as if this weren't amazing enough, after thirty minutes of walking deeper and deeper into the canyon, you come around a corner and there is it. The Treasury. The building that put Petra on the map (and in Steven Spielberg's film). A building so beautiful to look at it almost hurts your feelings. We stopped and stared for a while. A long while. In total we stayed at Petra for two days, hiking around, exploring caves, marveling at how magnificent the carvings were. I had a few moments while standing and staring out at all the beauty from one of the high places of worship on top of the mountains that I understood why this land could so contested and sought after. Yes, it's desert, and dusty and windy and hard. But it's also beautiful, and inherently has an awesome spirituality within its physicality. Steph and I both fell in love with it, and grudgingly left it for Amman after two days.
Our onward flight left from Queen Abdullah II Airport in Amman. A bit of an odd city, it has a long history, but up until recently (about a hundred years ago) it was a small town of only about two thousand residents. Now a sprawling metropolis of several million people, the city seems crowded, modern and a bit overwhelming after the calm of Petra. To get to Amman from Petra we chose to take the cheaper "public" bus instead of the slightly more expensive "tourist" bus. Interesting choice. When we got on the bus, we were the only white people and the only women. The men found us fascinating, and since Jordanian culture doesn't seem to frown on staring, we found ourselves the focus of about 14 pairs of eyes for the first thirty minutes. After that, I think we got pretty boring. Amman itself was pretty interesting, but mostly enjoyable because of our host - a woman not on couchsurfing, but referred to us through a couchsurfing host we had had in Germany. She showed us around the city a bit, helped us find some nice places to hang out at, and gave us some tips for things to do during the day while she was at work. She also took us out for drinks and hookah in the expat area of the city, and then for delicious falafel afterwards. After 36 hours in Amman, we headed or the airport for our last few hours in the Northern Hemisphere. Our flight left at 4:25pm on October 23rd, and after connecting through the monster transportation hub of Doha, Qatar, arrived in Bali at 7:15pm on October 25th. Talk about Jetlag. Luckily, our first two nights in Bali were covered by the company we bought all of our airline tickets through (as a thanks for spending so much money), and we are in the lap of luxury. The hotel has a private beach as well as a pool, a bocce ball court, air-conditioning and fresh fruit juices. Right now, I'm sitting on a chaise lounge chair about 25 feet from the Indian Ocean, using the wifi that extends from the restaurant while Steph is working on her white stomach and legs. I mean, white for her very blessed Brazilian skin. In my eyes she looks quite tan.
But I'll tell you all about that next time, when I'll probably be writing from Australia. In the words of my sister, "[my] life is so weird."
-EC
Our onward flight left from Queen Abdullah II Airport in Amman. A bit of an odd city, it has a long history, but up until recently (about a hundred years ago) it was a small town of only about two thousand residents. Now a sprawling metropolis of several million people, the city seems crowded, modern and a bit overwhelming after the calm of Petra. To get to Amman from Petra we chose to take the cheaper "public" bus instead of the slightly more expensive "tourist" bus. Interesting choice. When we got on the bus, we were the only white people and the only women. The men found us fascinating, and since Jordanian culture doesn't seem to frown on staring, we found ourselves the focus of about 14 pairs of eyes for the first thirty minutes. After that, I think we got pretty boring. Amman itself was pretty interesting, but mostly enjoyable because of our host - a woman not on couchsurfing, but referred to us through a couchsurfing host we had had in Germany. She showed us around the city a bit, helped us find some nice places to hang out at, and gave us some tips for things to do during the day while she was at work. She also took us out for drinks and hookah in the expat area of the city, and then for delicious falafel afterwards. After 36 hours in Amman, we headed or the airport for our last few hours in the Northern Hemisphere. Our flight left at 4:25pm on October 23rd, and after connecting through the monster transportation hub of Doha, Qatar, arrived in Bali at 7:15pm on October 25th. Talk about Jetlag. Luckily, our first two nights in Bali were covered by the company we bought all of our airline tickets through (as a thanks for spending so much money), and we are in the lap of luxury. The hotel has a private beach as well as a pool, a bocce ball court, air-conditioning and fresh fruit juices. Right now, I'm sitting on a chaise lounge chair about 25 feet from the Indian Ocean, using the wifi that extends from the restaurant while Steph is working on her white stomach and legs. I mean, white for her very blessed Brazilian skin. In my eyes she looks quite tan.
But I'll tell you all about that next time, when I'll probably be writing from Australia. In the words of my sister, "[my] life is so weird."
-EC
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