Wednesday, April 20, 2016

A STORY FROM JORDAN

 
My story from Jordan is not much about monuments and sights, I am going to mention them too, but there is something as valuable as stones and dust. It is about meeting other people which is helpful in so many ways: to get an extra information, to hear a different experience, to share transportation expenses, to make a contact that can help in the future, or, just to make a new friend. From the moment I took a seat on the bus to Jordan I had somebody to talk to. 
Her name is Dijana. She was surprised as much as I was when we had realized we speak the same language. We were laughing together when the immigration officers at Jordanian border took my husband's camera, looking it like it was their new toy, and my sanitary "adds" ordering me get it open.  After both of them made sure there was no bomb inside, they let me go. 
Dijana used to live in US so we shared our feelings of living abroad. I said goodby to her little bit before Aman and our strong hug had said we were going to stay in touch. Now, she's enjoying the sun somewhere in Shree Lanka. 
I didn't have any accomodation in Aman and a German girl from the same bus asked me if I wanted to share the taxi with her. She told me about the hotel where she was supposed to stay. She had booked it few months in advance like every responsible German, not leaving anything uncertain. 


I had a chance to spend some time with locals. It was on the way to Petra and two of us were only tourists on the bus. It was 5.30 in the morning and I was swearing myself because I needed to wake up that early. Unlike me, locals were in the mood to party and as soon as driver started the bus they started to party. Popular Arabic etno music was playing and everybody stood up and started clapping their hands. It was like a celebration party when everybody jumps on the table and chairs. Two hours later, I was only able to press the video button on my camera and I did so. Half an hour before Petra, locals stopped to pick up the wormwood, a wild plant which can prevent some breathing difficulties. This plant is useful specially to smokers. Maybe, if they stop smoking it would cure them too. 



Petra is the city where I wanted to spend some time with myself. Because of red color of the rocks and thousand shades of red, it is called "rose city". Red is my favorite color and I couldn't decide which shade would be favourite, the pale one or very dark one. The most of the city is still well preserved with the clear insight of la vie en rose with temples, theater, caves, graves and palaces. I needed to get into almost every hall and to get under of every single stone. It is such a contrast of being outside where the sun is burning and in the caves where is almost freezing. My ultimate point was the Roman temple that is raising on the hill, curved into the rock. All I can say that Romans did a hell of a job building it all the way up, even they had a good base, though. Building was probably more exhausting than my climbing, especially because Romans didn't have a nice package of crackers to give them a smiley after they had finished it.





I needed more time here and I let the bus with locals to go without me. On the way back I was thinking about locals and I wish I had more time to get to know them better. 

The next day at the breakfast, a guy asked me something. I couldn't recognized his accent so I asked him where he came from. When he answered, we were both laughing. He is my neighbor, from Slovenia. Again, somebody I could speak the same language with. I was complaining about smoking in Jordan when Leon asked for the ashtray and my face got a nice Petra color.
City of Aman is like an archeaologycal miracle. In the city center is Roman Amphytheather which is shaped to spread the voice from one side to another without any use of technology. In front of the Amphytheater, kids are playing soccer. I wish I had such a playground when I was a kid and I hope there won't be any extraordinary ability soccer player who would turn Amphytheter into the ash with one powerful shot. While I was searching for some points of interest, Leon showed up in front of me.


This time he was with the group of Polish future doctors: Greg, Kamila, Anna Maria and Aleksandra. It is always good to have a doctor by your side and I joined them. All together, with the pale ten, light color of hair, we looked so different from the others. At one moment some local guys started fallowing us. I don't think they would harm us but I think they were just curious. We really looked like a gang ready to make a mess. Probably that was the reason merchants offered us cup of coffee for free or the foreman let us visit Roman spa -The Nimpheum even if it was closed for the renovation. Greg showed us his voice trained at the churc chiore, singing along with an Arabic lady in Umayyad Palace, at the city citadel where we also got in for free because a local showed us a sideway. These are advantages of being a group, I guess. 
We spent the afternoon together and they invited me for a drink in their hostel.


In the meanwhile I had a dinner with Leon at the local restaurant where a waiter had known me already from the day before and he gave us fresh homemade hummus and baba ganush with pita bread. For me, it is a special joy of eating with my hands. 
The last few hours in Aman I spent with a group in their hostel. I met there some people from the bus that had brought me from Israel to Jordan. There was also one guy who's planning to stay on the road for two years. He was a serious competition to me but he had said I gave him a checkmate with my south polar expedition. Greg acted like a good host making sure we all try Polish sweet vodka. It was really great to meet all of these people. It will stay a memory from our friendship written on a small flower vase. It is not very clear but it's there, in Jordan. 


And the World is really a small place so I'm sure we'll meet each other again. 
Most of the people I've met there are coming from one country and living somewhere else. And it was really great to hear their life stories. 
I left Aman thinking how much I enjoyed Jordan even if I had spent only four days there. A little bit before the airport my taxi driver had stopped to pick up a man whose car got broken ten minutes far from the airport. It was a good way to finish this story. 

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