We took an hour long cab ride in the morning to the Dead Sea...which was totally trippy. We floated out of the water without even trying - took tons of goofy pictures with the ladies. Desolate landscape, beautiful hotels, and a giant body of water where the only living thing in it was use. You could actually see salt deposits where the water met the sand.
We paid three JD to cover ourselves head to toe in thick black mud taken from the sea floor. The locals claim that it tightens the skin. Not sure if that's true but it sure made for some funny pics! The sun was brutal - I busted out my SPF 70 sunscreen (the girls thought I must have stolen it from you...which is fair. Is paleness contagious?)
After a brief dip in the hotel pool we made our way to Al Mujib canyon. It wasn't part of the tour, but we threw the cab driver a few extra bones to cart four Americans in bathing suits a few extra miles. Our local guide told us at dinner the night before that the canyon was his favorite place in all of Jordan, and that was all the endorsment we needed.
The canyon was the most beautiful thing I've seen in a long time, and also the most dangerous. You go into the canyon in bathing suits, shorts, a life vest, and shoes. It starts off with a casual strtoll in the river (all against the current), with huge reeds and towering rock walls on either side. The water was so clear we could see pale yellow minnows darting between our toes as we walked on smooth, rust colored pebbles. The rock walls on either side were so high that they blocked out the sun in most places. The rocks were all this brilliant terra cotta color, and between the rocks and the reeds blowing in the wind I half expected a basket with a baby Moses to come floating around the bend.
After we'd been walking/swimming for about half an hour(the water was up to our waist in some places)we realized why the locals at the entrance of the river told us that we shouldn't go, especially not in the flip flops we were all wearing. The gentle river suddenly became what I like to refer to as "Silly American-Girl-Killing Rapids of Doom." We roudned a bend and came upon a rapid that would have easily been a class II back home. I suddenly wished very much for a helmet, shoes, and a raft of some sort.
When we got to the rapid, we realized we were in way over our heads. We also realized we were the only women on the river, so of course decided to show these Jordanians that women can do anything men can do. Then we all trtied to climb over the rapids and failed miserably.
Enter Ossama. Ossama deserves a moment of description in this little memoir here. Ossama was a Jordanian man, maybe about 50, who probably weighed less than me and wasn't much taller. he saw us struggling and managed to help us over the rapid. When we all had scrambled to the calm water on the other side, he looked at us with bright curiosity and in barely comprehensible English said "First time?" When we said yes, he had a hearty chuckle and then said "I come with."
And so began our three hour scramble over the rapids of Al Mujib using an archaic system of ropes, nonsensically placed metal bars, and a nice man named Ossama. The second rapid we got to was by far the worst. We had to use a rope that had been strung from the rocks a couple of feet above and parallel to the river. About ten feet above us was a series of powerful, two-tiered rapids. We had to climb backwards, hand over hand along the rope to a very narrow passage along the first level of the rapids. The whole time, water was rushing over us, and underground rocks were beating the few parts of our badies that were submerged. In order to climb over the second tier of rapids, we had to use a rope that hung over a huge boulder in the middle of the river with the river rushing over it. I went first and couldn't find a foot hold. I ended up just trying to use my upper body to hoist myself up. When I was almost at the top, I lost my grip on the rope (surprising with these man hands, I know) and splashed back down into the rapids. Truth be told - it was pretty freakin' scary. Luckily I managed to keep my right hand on the rope and waded through the current back to the boulder. Then I made the boulder my bitch (aka Osamma helped pull me up).
After four other similar death defying scrambles, we were all beat to hell with scrapes on our knees, feet, and elbows. Right around the time we probably would have rather not gone on, we reached the peice de resistance - the waterfall! We are at the waterfall's base, and climbed up some rocks to get into a cave-like indention behind the waterfall. Sitting in that cave, with torrents of water crashing down in front of us defintiely made the whole ideal worth it (until we realized that the little pinches we felt on our toes were actually crabs nibbling on us).
We rewarded ourselves at the end of the long day by smoking some delicious sheesha on the roof of Books and Cafe. Sheesha + moonlight + wine = heaven.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Amman
After watching some bad American movies with Evann (my roomie for the night who also couldn't sleep), we rallied with Monica and Nicole in the next room and headed into Amman.
The walk downtown from our hotel was our first real experience as American women in Jordan. For the entire mile-long walk downtown, we saw maybe two women and dozens of men. When we actually got downtown, the proportion of men to women was even greater. Evern though we were all very conservatively dressed, we stuck out like sore American thumbs.
The walk was...different. Even though Amman is the wealthiest city in Jordan, it looks to naive Americans like it's in a serious state of disrepair. The buildings are all made from the same white-washed, crumbling cement. Buildings are stacked nearly on top of each other high into the hillsides, and many look close to collapse. The air was thick with pollution (likely from the plumes of exhaust trailing behind the cars) and had a very particular smell: sewage, food, and many people and animals living in close quarters. That being said - Amman is stunning. It used to be controlled by the Romans way back when, and contemporary buildings spring up right next to Roman ruins.
We were obviously curious about how we would be received by men in the city. The men - though some leered (Monica had a guy get right up next to her and his "niiiiiiiiiiiiiice" - it wasn't threatening really - mostly funny), were generally very helpful, friendly, and genuinely interested in what brought four little American girls to their fair city.
Wehn we got downtown, we found an amazing little outdoor resetaurant where they served hummus and falafal. It was super cheap and friggin amazing. After lunch we set off in search of the Roman Colleseum. After a few wrong turns and detours (there was a fire downtown that morning) we found the Colliseum. We also found an old, toothless man who said he would take us on a tour of the ruins. ("You! Me! Tour!") He walked us through two museums and the colliseum itself which sat six thousand people back in the day. He was really proud of any artifact that was made in Amman. He would say "Gun...British...Sword...AMMAN!" When we came to a very old sheesha pipe he said "Work finished. Smoke-a da pipe." We laughed. He was confused. He also apparently thought I wasn't comprehending what he was saying because he stopped towards the end of the tour and asked me if I spoke English. I hated him.
After the collesium we went off in search of teh Temple of Hercules - which the guidebook said we shouldn't miss and the locals said they had no idea what we were talking about. It was hot as hades and we set up the hill in search of the temple that we swear we caught glimnpses of earlier. We walked through a neighborhood and kids would come out of their houses and shout out of their windows "Welcome to Jordan!" IT was adorable - until some of the older children started practicing words that they must have picked up in a Samuel L. Jackson movie.
After huffing and puffing our way tot he top oif the hill, we couldn't find that damn temple. So we settled for some overpriced guava juice at a cafe. We couldn't catch a cab to save our lives. We later leartned that some taxi drivers won't pick up groups of four women because that would mean that one of the women would have to sit in the front. Luckily, we finally found a cab driver who wasn't too concerned about getting our lady business on his front seat and headed back to the hotel.
Back at the hotel, we met and had dinner with our travel group. Our guide, Kath, is an adorable young woman from Australia - you would have loved her! Folks on the tour are mostly from the UK, Ireland, and New Zealand. We had dinner at an amazing place called "Books and Cafe." Outdoor patio - lit mostly by lanterns and moonlight, with a kick ass view of the hills that surround Amman. It. Was. Awesome.
The walk downtown from our hotel was our first real experience as American women in Jordan. For the entire mile-long walk downtown, we saw maybe two women and dozens of men. When we actually got downtown, the proportion of men to women was even greater. Evern though we were all very conservatively dressed, we stuck out like sore American thumbs.
The walk was...different. Even though Amman is the wealthiest city in Jordan, it looks to naive Americans like it's in a serious state of disrepair. The buildings are all made from the same white-washed, crumbling cement. Buildings are stacked nearly on top of each other high into the hillsides, and many look close to collapse. The air was thick with pollution (likely from the plumes of exhaust trailing behind the cars) and had a very particular smell: sewage, food, and many people and animals living in close quarters. That being said - Amman is stunning. It used to be controlled by the Romans way back when, and contemporary buildings spring up right next to Roman ruins.
We were obviously curious about how we would be received by men in the city. The men - though some leered (Monica had a guy get right up next to her and his "niiiiiiiiiiiiiice" - it wasn't threatening really - mostly funny), were generally very helpful, friendly, and genuinely interested in what brought four little American girls to their fair city.
Wehn we got downtown, we found an amazing little outdoor resetaurant where they served hummus and falafal. It was super cheap and friggin amazing. After lunch we set off in search of the Roman Colleseum. After a few wrong turns and detours (there was a fire downtown that morning) we found the Colliseum. We also found an old, toothless man who said he would take us on a tour of the ruins. ("You! Me! Tour!") He walked us through two museums and the colliseum itself which sat six thousand people back in the day. He was really proud of any artifact that was made in Amman. He would say "Gun...British...Sword...AMMAN!" When we came to a very old sheesha pipe he said "Work finished. Smoke-a da pipe." We laughed. He was confused. He also apparently thought I wasn't comprehending what he was saying because he stopped towards the end of the tour and asked me if I spoke English. I hated him.
After the collesium we went off in search of teh Temple of Hercules - which the guidebook said we shouldn't miss and the locals said they had no idea what we were talking about. It was hot as hades and we set up the hill in search of the temple that we swear we caught glimnpses of earlier. We walked through a neighborhood and kids would come out of their houses and shout out of their windows "Welcome to Jordan!" IT was adorable - until some of the older children started practicing words that they must have picked up in a Samuel L. Jackson movie.
After huffing and puffing our way tot he top oif the hill, we couldn't find that damn temple. So we settled for some overpriced guava juice at a cafe. We couldn't catch a cab to save our lives. We later leartned that some taxi drivers won't pick up groups of four women because that would mean that one of the women would have to sit in the front. Luckily, we finally found a cab driver who wasn't too concerned about getting our lady business on his front seat and headed back to the hotel.
Back at the hotel, we met and had dinner with our travel group. Our guide, Kath, is an adorable young woman from Australia - you would have loved her! Folks on the tour are mostly from the UK, Ireland, and New Zealand. We had dinner at an amazing place called "Books and Cafe." Outdoor patio - lit mostly by lanterns and moonlight, with a kick ass view of the hills that surround Amman. It. Was. Awesome.
Amman or Bust
Hello!
I am writing this to you from the beautiful city of Paris (aka CDG airport), where we have a layover en route from DC to Amman. Though it's 8 am here, we found a cafe that serves wine. Seeing that it's 1 am back home, we felt as if it was our duty to partake of the local beverages. There's an interesting smell here - it's either frommage or my feet after the long flight. Either way, I have no interest in eating it.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So when I left off we were in the Paris airport. We got a little drunk there. (Hoh hoh hoh hoh!) I fell asleep (passed out) in the plane and when I awoke - Amman! It was dark when we landed, and after a slightly harrowing experience with security (they had thermo-scanners and wanted to keep Nicole behind because her body temp was elevated and they thought she had swine flu) we caught a cab to our first stop - the Caravan hotel. We immediately passed out, only to be awoken at 4 am by the call to prayer. I can't even tell you how hauntingly beautiful it was! Even you - lover of sleep that you are - would have appreciated the unexpected wake up call.
I am writing this to you from the beautiful city of Paris (aka CDG airport), where we have a layover en route from DC to Amman. Though it's 8 am here, we found a cafe that serves wine. Seeing that it's 1 am back home, we felt as if it was our duty to partake of the local beverages. There's an interesting smell here - it's either frommage or my feet after the long flight. Either way, I have no interest in eating it.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So when I left off we were in the Paris airport. We got a little drunk there. (Hoh hoh hoh hoh!) I fell asleep (passed out) in the plane and when I awoke - Amman! It was dark when we landed, and after a slightly harrowing experience with security (they had thermo-scanners and wanted to keep Nicole behind because her body temp was elevated and they thought she had swine flu) we caught a cab to our first stop - the Caravan hotel. We immediately passed out, only to be awoken at 4 am by the call to prayer. I can't even tell you how hauntingly beautiful it was! Even you - lover of sleep that you are - would have appreciated the unexpected wake up call.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)