Petra, Jordan
I went to Jordan on vacation - not for work. Much of my travel for many years has been for work, but I always manage to slip a day or two in at the end to explore.
Jordan was a trip that I planned 20 years ago. I even bought tickets for myself and my two daughters. But then there was some unrest in the country and the State Department said that Jordan should be avoided. I then decided to go to the Ivory Coast - Abidjan, another country and city that I have been passionate about since I was a teenager. I bought the tickets and BAM! Coup d’état in the country - uprising - and we stayed at home. So glad that I was able to finally experience Jordan after so many years of intense longing.
After landing at the airport in Rome, I went to have something to eat as I had no idea what I was going to find in Jordan. The meal reminded me why I love Italy.
After landing in Amman and walking the corridor in the Amman Airport and catching a glimpse of myself with my travel bag that has accompanied me for the past twenty years, I felt the thrill of another adventure.
I presented my passport at passport control and was met with "WELCOME TO JORDAN" by the border agent. It was 4:00 in the morning when we landed. I was a bit taken aback because in every other country that I have visited (60 to date), travelers are looked upon with suspicion and sometimes even hostility. Welcome to Jordan? All I could do was smile.
I made it through passport control and finally through to the exit. There were 5 agents waiting there and I thought "HA! This is how they get you! Make you feel all welcome and then bam, they treat you with contempt as you depart." I saw the x-ray machines and was about to place my bags there and one of the agents looked at me and said, "Where are you coming from?" I responded "Italy." He said, "Welcome to Jordan, enjoy our country." I didn't have to have my bags x-rayed. At that point, I was trying to figure out the conspiracy!
I walked out to the taxi stand where about 30 people were gathered trying to figure out where to go and how much the trip into Amman was worth. The young woman at the money exchange desk inside the airport, after welcoming me, already told me that the price was 25 Jordanian Dinar. I saw the main dispatcher and told him that I needed a taxi to Amman and his first question was "Where are you from?" I responded that I live in Italy. "Welcome to Jordan" was his response. He called a driver over and I showed him my hotel address and he said, "Welcome to Jordan."
30 Jordanian dinars later (he asked for 25), and 45 minutes later, I arrived in my hotel. It was 5:00 in the morning. Check-in time was to be at 2:00 p.m., but the desk clerk gave me a room at half price for my half a day and upgraded me to a suite. All of this AFTER welcoming me to Jordan.
Heading toward my room, I saw photos of the former King, King Hussein, and the present King, King Abdullah. I had always been a fan of King Hussein, who was married to the former Lisa Halaby of Philadelphia, PA. Upon his death, his son, King Abdullah began his reign.
I went to my room and was pleasantly SHOCKED! All of this for the little money that I spent!
After a few hours of sleep, I decided to go and explore. The desk agent called a bellboy over to hail a taxi for me. We went outside but the taxis that passed were occupied, so he pulled out his phone and asked me if I knew what Uber was. I have heard of it but have never taken one. There is a different service in Jordan, and before I could blink an eye, a car pulled up. I got in the car, and his first question "Where from? I answered. "Welcome to Jordan." His next question to me - "What means Hallelujah?" I tried to explain that it was considered the highest praise. The closest thing that I could think of was Allah’ Akbar. He had heard it in a song. Later I found out that the translation of Hallelujah is Alhamd Lilah. After a 30-minute ride through the second craziest traffic that I have experienced (Beirut, Lebanon takes first place), we arrived at Rainbow Street, and he asked me for 3 Jordanian Dinar. I gave him 5 and as he went to give me change, I told him to keep it. He said, "But it only costs three!" I assured him that I wanted to give him 5 and I left the car to explore.
After walking for a bit, a man standing in front of a building asked if I would like to eat something. I was hungry so I decided to enter the building. I walked up two flights of stairs and there was a restaurant on the third level. The food was great, and I had the first of what turned out to be my favorite drink - fresh squeezed lemons with mint. The shish taouk was spiced and grilled to perfection, and the fatoush with all of it fresh vegetables and pomegranate was perfect for this weary traveler. At the end of the meal, a steaming cup of black tea with mint was presented. It reminded me of my excursion to Tadzkistan in 1992 where the temperatures were always around 45 degrees Celsius - 113 degrees Fahrenheit. I could not find enough cold water! But the locals kept offering me boiling hot tea and I always declined, thinking that they were crazy for drinking boiling tea with the weather as hot as it was. I finally asked someone, and they insisted that I try it. Well, I'll be darned! The hot tea raises the core body temperature, causing us to sweat at an increased rate. As the sweat evaporates, it cools us down! I drank my tea and felt my arms. Cold to the touch!
I left the restaurant, and the same gentleman was there, so I decided to ask him for information about where to purchase a typical Jordanian garment. His response..."I finish work at 5:00, so if you come back, I will take you." So, I continued exploring and showed up at 5:00 and he showed me the heart of Amman! He even wanted to buy me an ice cream cone. I didn't want one, but I ate it because I was in good company. Ahmeed and I are now in touch daily through messenger. I saw parts of Amman that are not on the tourist route, and I got my Jordanian Keffiyeh and Dishdashah!
The next morning, I caught a bus at 6:30 to Petra. The ride took 5 hours and cost 16 Jordanian Dinar, round trip. I stayed at the Town Season Hotel where I met two brothers from Sudan who work there. There was an instant connection as evidenced by the photo. After a quick lunch in town, and more Lemon with Mint, I made my way to the Siq that would lead me into the heart of Petra
Final thoughts about Jordan Part Two.
When I arrived at the entry to Petra, I showed my Jordan Pass, a must if one plans to visit the site on multiple days. It also covers the visa fee at the airport, as well as entry to any of Jordan's other sites.
I felt an inexplicable excitement as I crossed the turnstile and began heading toward the Siq. I almost felt like running as I was so excited. There were numerous horsemen awaiting who offered me a horse to take me to the beginning of the Siq. I politely declined as I wanted to experience every step of the path into the lost city.
I arrived at beginning of the Siq after a brisk 15-minute walk, and again, the urge to sprint overwhelmed me. I told myself to remain calm. That first step into the Siq was surreal. I imagined the Nabatean people, made wealthy by the caravan trade, who lived in the region as early as 312 B.C. and carved Petra. I thought of their steadfastness and their determination. Their ability and knowledge. I thought of their architectural skills and their noble purpose. My pace increased.
The horsemen sped along with their carriages through the mile long fissure in the mountain that leads to the city that was hidden for centuries. They transported mainly those too lazy to walk...I saw people in their 80s and 90s walking the distance. I saw people using canes and crutches walking the distance. For a moment, the carriages reminded me of Walmart and those people that refuse to walk while shopping. Yes, it was hot, but one does not sweat in the Jordanian desert. To be transported in is to overlook thousands of years of history. I, personally, needed to feel every step, to feel every emotion for this mysterious place that has had me longing since my days as a young man.
From time to time, young children would offer me postcards for purchase. As much as I love supporting children, my purpose was greater. I made a mental note to purchase on my departure.
I continued my journey deeper into the Siq, recognizing that I was not as claustrophobic as I thought I might be in the space that was at times only three meters wide.
I felt only joy as I marveled at the intricate designs that time and wind and water carved into the walls in the massive Siq. I felt like a kid in an amusement park, giddy as anything, almost to the point of laughter. Perhaps people were curious as to the source of delight plastered on the face of the solitary traveler, the restless pilgrim who dreamed a dream that was becoming a reality.
I wondered what my reaction would be upon seeing El Khazneh, the so-called Treasury, that is the first building one sees upon leaving the Siq and entering the heart of Petra. I had seen it a million times in photos. Had dreamt about it hundreds of times. Imagined myself on a voyage with Indiana Jones in search of The Holy Grail. And then suddenly, it was there!
My smile disappeared immediately. My childlike wonderment turned into something that I still lack the words to describe...and I wept.
I cried an ugly cry. At that moment, the walls of the Siq became my own private Wailing Wall. I placed my forehead on the massive formation until the tears stopped and I looked again at the Treasury, and I felt cleansed. At that moment, I felt that I could break bread with sworn enemies and call them friend.
Though I traveled with two cellphones and a camera, I could not bring myself to take photos. I simply stood there at the entry to the city and marveled.
As I do on all my travels, I found an isolated corner and I planted myself, and for the next 30 minutes, I was a nomad, arriving after a breakfast of bread, figs and dates, to continue carving one of the columns of the marvel in front of me.
When I came back to my senses, I began to take photos. And then I walked, paying attention to every stone, every carving, every horse, camel and mule. The colors of Petra cannot be described. They must be experienced.
I walked for about 5 miles into Petra because 5 miles in meant 5 miles out.
At one point, a young Bedouin asked if I wanted to rent his mule, but I explained that I absolutely had to experience Petra by foot. He understood. We engaged in a long conversation, and he invited me to his family's cave for dinner. Thank you, Bob Marley. As we were talking, another young Bedouin approached us and he said to me "I saw you in Amman yesterday." Petra is 5 hours away by bus from Amman, but in fact, I was in Amman the day before. He told me exactly where he saw me, with my camera, walking the streets of the capital. Thank you, vitiligo! He recognized me by my lack of pigmentation on my hands and arms! What a natural calling card I have been blessed with!
We laughed, took photos, I learned a bit of their stories and then I continued my journey. I planned to go to the desert at Wadi Rum the next day so left my enchanted city, knowing that I would return to this place, a man changed by this experience.
