March 14, 2009

Let me introduce Jordan from my point of view as a Western woman. Here we go: yes, yes, yes! What a relief after the cat-calling, arm-grabbing, unabashed stares of Egypt, and, I presume, other Middle Eastern countries. Since I was able to (ignorantly) display my provocative nape of neck, Jordan is practically Vegas! Truly, though, this ancient country has successfully bridged the gap between Cleopatra, Moses, et al. and high-tech, modern culture.

We first walked around downtown Amman. Men lounge in their shoe-shop doorways, and everyone smokes. But I wasn’t hassled! Jordanians alternately welcomed us heartily and completely ignored us. As evening fell, I was just getting used to the muddy, steep streets when Clint drew up in front of a glass-encased, candlelit fortress of a restaurant (Wild Jordan). We dined on organic pasta and fresh juice smoothies – quelle surprise in an old, slighty dingy city. I get the impression that there’s a vanguard of progressive Jordanians bringing Amman into a Western modernism.

Early the next morning (befitting of our jetlagged schedules), we were on a bumpy bus ride to Petra, the wonder of the world hours south of Amman. Now, this may be one of the most famous historical sites ever, but I was completely ignorant. As we trotted down the narrow gorge, our guide pointed out Aramaic carvings, Roman limestone pavement, and remnants of water pipes. I was impressed. Evidence of biblical times we can actually touch! And then, oh then, the guide pointed – there, through a break in the rock, there was the real reason we came). The Treasury of Petra. Looming two or three stories in the rock face, this ancient edifice features Greek columns, Roman goddesses, and a general air of awesomeness. It’s so large and so well-preserved that the mind can’t help boggling at the serious time that’s passed. Honestly, the rest of the day paled to that moment, and I didn’t soak up too many facts. Google Petra and you’ll get the whole history. Just know that you can admire the columns and pediments and ampitheaters just as blissfully WITHOUT knowledge.

Two more essential Jordanian sites awaited the next day. Our guidebook informed us that even if you’re on a “weary last leg of a ruins-hopping tour,” Jerash will impress. True. This preserved city dates from at least 63 BC, when the Romans started building their various fountains, temples, and baths. In fact, we sauntered under a huge triumphal arch that was constructed for the Emperor Hadrian’s visit in, ahem, 129 AD. But here’s the coolest part of Jerash. As impressive as the many columns are, evidence of real, daily life persists. In one theater, used for city council meetings, representatives carved their names – in Greek – onto their stone seats (outlined to make it easier to see). I can just imagine the little chiseling tools in toga-clad hands. And don’t get me started on the ACTUAL CHARIOT RUTS in the limestone flooring. Chariots thousands of years ago wore grooves in the rocks I’m standing on. It’s things like that, moreso than huge monuments, that forge a connection to history. So amazing.

Now it was onto the Dead Sea, praying that the weak sunlight had warmed the waters. This is clearly God’s country, as evidenced by the chain-link fences and construction cranes. Shaking that off, I made like Cleopatra and eased myself into the chilly waters. Strangely, the salt water does buoy your limbs, making it fun to float but difficult to stand up again! Clint dug up some probably-hazardous gooey mud from the bottom, happily slathering it all over before we noticed the buckets of mud already harvested for us. Oh well. We needed something to moisturize with after the shaggy layers of salt started to encrust the skin. Good thing the showers are not cold drizzles of salt water – no soap – so we can really get clean! Anyway, the Dead Sea is a necessary trip, but the ambience is somewhat lacking.

Back to Amman to take a Dead Sea salt bath (I paid money to get the effect I had just washed off!) and then to explore Amman further. I mentioned I was surprised at the sudden modernity around unexpected corners. Well, when the cab dropped us off at the very tip of Rainbow Street, I read with delight about the recent efforts to forge mixed-use, vibrant neighborhoods out of the area. New Urbanism here, in the Middle East! Jauntily I traipsed down the lane, smiling at the various pizzerias and suit shops. Okay, it wasn’t that vibrant, but we did end up at the awe-inspiring Books @ Café. I say awe-inspiring because this confusingly-named bookstore sports modern paint colors, a true selection of cookbooks, memoirs, and kids’ books, and Western food and cappuccinos. When you come to expect a certain kind of average development and average prosperity, a well-heeled hangout surprises and delights.

This last experience sums up our satisfaction with Jordan. Alternately – and simultaneously – forward-thinking and ancient, its aspects coexist peacefully. (Ahem, Egypt.) Rising above the potential to be close-minded and stagnant, Jordan doesn’t mind reinventing itself. I’m cheering it on.