Posterous theme by Cory Watilo

The Final Countdown

This past week and a half has been one of the most eventful times I can ever remember. Not because of the big things, but the little things that have built up every day. We began the week knowing that we’d have to submit our final reports by July 1st, but we had no idea how much work was involved in finalizing that writing. More importantly, we were still going to site every day as well.

Since we’d finished our own square, Meaghan and I spent the first few days doing final photos, tying up loose ends and collecting any missing bits of information, and making sure that we were well prepared for our written reports as well. We did some seriously awesome top plan drawing, allowing us to completely finish the work for both our Squares, 20 and 25. Then, we had nothing left to do but help others finish their own drawings, take elevations, and complete our reports in the evening. This was much easier said than done – it took the entire weekend followed by another 10 hours at least of solid work before Khris declared that the report was finished, and with no time to spare. Still, it was done, and we celebrated by doing laundry, packing, cleaning, and feeling generally overwhelmed by the number of things left to do and how little time was left to do them.

With the end of our dig season came some harder moments as well – our final goodbyes on site. We gave thank you gifts and tokens of appreciation to the workers from our Square, saying farewell to Yusuf and Abdullah. Harder still, though, was the goodbye to Mohammed. After befriending him and sharing so many days, stories, conversations and experiences, this was the hardest part of leaving site. We left with good news from him – that he’d received an offer for a permanent job in the government in Aqaba – nevertheless, we said goodbye with the sadness of not knowing when, if ever, I would see my friend again. This began the chain of goodbyes and moments of bittersweet “lasts” – the last time we went to the shisha bar or drank tea under the tree, the last time we went to the marketplace, the last time we suffered through mystery meat at the Syrian restaurant. The last time we sat with a beer on the roof, the last time we slept in our room, the last time we’d shower without hot water or a shower curtain, the last time we washed our clothes in the sink.

Bags packed, and a sense of finality in the air, we went out on July 1st for our final dinner together. Instead of the Syrian restaurant, there was a Canada Day surprise – pizza on the roof of a local hotel. On our walk there, we bumped into the friends we’d made along the way – Abduraman, Faraj, Salim, Mahmoud, “Lazy” Mohammed, Warad, Yusuf. Normally we would have gone for coffee or chai with our friends, but we had to get to dinner and so we said another goodbye and went to join the rest of our team.

Arriving on the rooftop, we were just in time to see the sun set over the mountains of Israel. Together, we laughed and chatted and danced around, feeling more free and less stressed than we had in our stay. All too soon, it was getting late, and it was time to say goodnight, and our first goodbyes. Together, Erin, Mike, Tash, Miranda, and I plodded back to Shokini, meeting many of the workers again on the street, but with packing still to get done, had to say one last goodbye and leave.


With our bags ready to go, we went up to the roof, where some of the excavators had decided to sleep for the night. For the first time, it was a very sombre gathering of people, filled with reflections about our favourite moments from the trip. Then it was time for bed, and our last sleep before departure.
Waking up at 6 the next morning, Meagahan, Darcye, Daniela, Dominique and I were preparing for our flight home. We made the rounds of the apartments, saying goodbye to the many faces who’d woken up to see us off. Then came the hardest part – hugs goodbye for Tash, Mike, and Erin, the most constant features in life in Aqaba, and the final departure.
From that moment on, we were a mess of tears, laughter, and anxiety about what going home would be like. Fortunately, Meaghan and I were going all the way through to London together. We said goodbye to the Ds in Amman, then hopped onto our connecting flight to London. It was like going full circle; just as we’d started in Heathrow together, we would leave each other in the same place. And just as when we started, we were truly glad for one another’s company, especially when the pilot announced it was 18 degrees and raining outside. Meaghan and I looked at each other, and burst out laughing until we cried. After weeks of 45-50, the idea of such a temperature drop sent us into total hysterics.

We said goodbye in the airport, and then it was on to meet my dad’s university friends, Samir and Belkis, whom I’d be staying with until Friday. The next four days were a blur of wandering through museums and parks, enjoying cups of coffee and tea and the occasional pint, eating green vegetables, feeling at home, watching the news with Samir and Belkis every night, and exploring London on foot while they worked. It was such a joy to spend time with Samir, Belkis and Cimran; they made each moment spent with them more fun and memorable than the last. Most exciting of all was when Samir showed me around the V and A, a museum that is truly dear to him; he shared his passion for art, taking me to all his favourite spots and then leaving me to wander – six hours later, I left with blurred vision, and wishing that my body could keep up with all the amazing sights it housed.

I’m now just an hour away from a plane back to Ottawa. It’s a strange feeling, going home, and one that in the first week felt like an age away. It is an indescribable mix of happiness and sadness at things gained and things lost. This is the last time I’ll write about this particular adventure. At its close, I am so grateful to the people whom I’ve shared it with, who I will love with all my heart and miss terribly, and who have changed me forever. I know all our lives will never be the same again, and I cannot imagine the journey we’ve taken without each of you as a part of it. Thank you, I love you, and I can’t wait to see you all again, Insha’Allah, one day.

Friends

There is this feeling that I get, sometimes, when I’ve been away from home for a long time. It’s not so much missing things, or people, which I do a little bit every day. Instead, it’s a yearning for something that you know you can’t have, because of where you are. Like this past day off, our Friday morning, my dearest wish was to be sitting on a dock in the sunlight, watching lazy clouds wander by in the distance, and reading with my feet dangling into the water. The perfect way to spend a day when the weather reaches the sorts of high temperatures that we’ve grown accustomed to. 

We’d gone out Thursday night for dinner, finding a pizza place that tasted a bit like Italy. We grabbed ice creams and then we gathered our things to go out to the Movenpick hotel to watch belly dancing. We’d arrived a little late for meeting Sherry, and were confused when we saw Euro 2012 on the TV screens instead of our promised entertainment. Fortunately, I’d remembered hearing that there was another show at the Intercontinental. Unfortunately, we didn’t know where it was. A friendly local pointed us in the right direction, which was embarrassingly close and lit up by one of the largest signs I’ve ever seen. We ventured onwards, through their security and bag check system, and into their glorious, chandeliered lobby with marble floors and cathedral ceilings. It was quite spectacular. We (Mike, Erin, Tash and I) were directed to a quiet lounge, where we found Sherry, Heather, Olivia, Lindsay and Shandice ready to greet us. We grabbed drinks and waited while two Jordanians entertained the crowd (the 9 of us + three guys).
Twenty minutes later, a woman dressed for the part in a slitted skirt and tiny top came out carrying a cane as a prop, and began to dance to a catchy song in Arabic. It was really fun, especially when she balanced the cane over her chest while she danced, her shoulders never moving. Heather especially was so excited, particularly when she was given the opportunity to get up and learn some of her moves. She wasn’t just enthusiastic, either – she was pretty darn good! The rest of us got up, too, but were far more awkward. It was so silly.
We left after two performances that took us past midnight, bought drinks and went up to the roof to chat. While the wine had spoiled, the company was fantastic, and we stayed up until 2 talking, until we realized that on any other work day we’d be waking up in two hours and promptly ventured to bed.

Waking up on Friday at 10, it felt like a lazy summer’s day – with the exception of mountains of paperwork and the shock of having nothing to do but sit around. We were all strangely short-tempered in the morning, since we didn’t have any plans and couldn’t seem to figure out how to navigate an unscheduled day. While some of the others adventured to Chinatown (yes, it exists!) to find food and look around, I stayed behind to sort through the built-up work. We had planned to go to the beach in the afternoon, but when everyone returned at nearly 4 o’clock, we realized that wouldn’t be an option. Feeling a little disappointed, a new plan developed instead. Mike had bought water balloons, and we had water bottles up to our ears. So what better plan than to fill up 50 balloons, poke holes in the tops of water bottles as makeshift guns, put on our shorts and t-shirts and quietly sneak past any nay-sayers and up to the roof.

The next hour or so whizzed by as Mike, Tash, Erin, Shandice, Heather, Miranda, and I became completely drenched, a little bruised and totally ridiculous. The water bottles turned out to be much more effective with the cap entirely unscrewed. We made far too much noise and had far too much fun to be considered appropriate in Jordan, but by the end of it, a little bit of my lakeside daydream had ebbed away. We sat down to dry off and watched the sun cast long shadows over the mountains around us. Sometimes, doing something silly is all it takes to brighten a day. And sometimes, there are moments where you realize that though you’ve found yourself in a new place with strange people, those strangers have disappeared, and new friends stand in their places. New friends that feel like old friends, even like family.

Sometimes, it’s those moments that end up meaning more to you than any big adventure. I’m grateful to these people, because their friendship will last for all of our many adventures to come. Maybe it's sentimental, but while our time in Jordan is coming to a close, I'm so glad that this is something we'll be taking back with us. 

 

Petra (Part 2)

We were still a long way away from our final destination point, the Treasury, and yet I was already in awe of the carved spaces around us. Looking up, the sky was darkening and the stars were peeking out.

We walked for another few minutes before the gravel below us started changing to large, well-shaped cobbles – a paved road. Traveling along it, the gentle slope began to drop more quickly, and we were facing the opening to a chasm between the two rock faces. Between them, the path continued, leading us forward by the red-gold glow of the candles on the rocks. Here, we bumped into Kelsey, who was sitting in the middle of the path to take long exposure shots of the night sky. Looking up, there were hundreds of stars, the milky way, the big dipper, all framed between the towering stone walls on either side of us. We continued onwards in near silence, barely hearing our own footsteps on the rock.

Turning along the twisting path, I was suddenly overcome by the knowledge that, for thousands of years, footsteps had smoothed the rocks beneath our feet. Thousands of people had breathed here, walked here, crowded between the stones, admired the stars in the night sky above. Thousands of people had lived here, died here, and carved out the rocks that surrounded us. Walking along, it was overwhelming to feel their presence weighing down and around me.

I walked forwards, alone, in silence, and thoughtful, following the road as it curved around to the right. Ahead, I thought I saw more light, and in the distance, the sound of a wooden flute cut through the air. As the music stopped, a wave of applause carried from some distant spot. I rounded the bend, and looked up ahead.

Before me, two hundred candles and two hundred bodies were arranged in neat rows before the Treasury. The candles lit it softly, casting long shadows over its features. I sat down at the back, away from the crowds, as the music resumed. This time, a string of some kind was playing.

I was joined by Mike, Erin, and Kelsey, and a man came around offering cups of tea. Together, we sat, and listened as a local man got up to tell a myth about Petra. When he had finished, the show was over and the crowd began to disperse. We waited in the shadows until they had passed, then began walking back together, with the guards trailing just behind us. I started walking with one of them, who turned out to be the creator of the Petra by Night program, a born in the area, and with lots of good travel tips and suggestions for what to do during the day in Petra. He also invited me to come back and work for him at his Travel Agency if I wanted during the next high season. It was pretty interesting!

When we reached the gate, we rejoined the group for a reminder of the plans for the next day’s entry. Then, Mike, Erin, and I began the journey back to our hostel. We climbed the mountain, went through the lobby and up the stairs, straight to the roof. There was this amazing swinging bench, and so for the first time since we arrived we sat, barefoot, and dangled our feet as we swung, looking down at the lights of Wadi Musa (the city around Petra). It was wonderful.

We went to sleep, waking up all to early to start again. We grabbed breakfast in the lower levels of the hostel, and I swiped some food for the buffet for lunch. We got our things together and headed down the hill to meet up with the rest of our group, as well as those people arriving for the day trip, to go into Petra. Because we’re excavators, we get in for free (usual entrance fee is around 50 dollars) so we had to go in together. The daylight revealed the rocks around us in a way that the night had not – their detail was awesome. Because we were feeling adventurous, we three tried to find a secret path that the guards had told us about, that would lead to the High Place of Sacrifice. After 30 minutes of hunting for a path, we gave up and started along the traditional route to the Treasury and beyond. We decided to go to the furthest and highest point, the Monastery, first, because it was getting so hot and there was an 800 step climb. After walking for around 20 minutes, we arrived at the base of the staircase, carved out of the sandstone. We started to climb.

What the information pamphlet hadn’t mentioned was that the steps to the Monastery were not only uneven, but also HUGE. I was counting, and after 100 stairs I was already wondering if we’d make it to the top. Fortunately, around every 100 stairs there were Bedouin tents selling various knickknacks, all at a hugely inflated price, so we’d keep up our pace just to rush past. People in Petra are far more aggressive than elsewhere, with many children trying to sell postcards and using their tears to persuade you. It was pretty unpleasant, and we were asked at least 40 times if we wanted to ride a donkey up. Which we didn’t.

By about the 500th step, we (at least, Erin and I) were starting to tire, and could feel muscles in our legs that we didn’t know we had. One thing to be said for the uneven steps, though, is that you work so many muscles at once that they hurt uniformly. By step 700, we were panting hard, and sweating so much in the heat that no matter how much water we drank, we still felt thirsty. Yet looking up, we could see the Monastery roof cutting through the mountain face, and we were encouraged forward by the other hikers on their way down. We continued uphill until we were hit in the face by a breeze, a sure sign we were near the top. We climbed up, up, up, to the very highest step, and then down again into a valley. We looked to our right, and gasped. Before us was a massive rock building, carved directly from the mountaintop. It was stunning. We took off our backpacks to look around, with massive sweat stains everywhere that they’d touched our skin. Then, feeling especially adventurous, we climbed up into the Monastery, whose entrance was about 4 feet above ground level. Though the inside was bare but for an altar area, it was such a shock to think that the whole space had been carved out.

We climbed up to a lookout, and saw the mountains extending all around us. Mike stopped to buy a cup of tea and drink it from the highest point, and we sat and admired the view.

When our excitement had dulled a bit, we went into a carved cavern with a skylight, which must once have been someone’s home, and sat to enjoy our lunch. Then, we started the downhill trek.

800 steps later, we were at the bottom, and starting to feel our exhaustion. Still, we pushed forwards, heading back towards the Treasury. On the way, we stopped into one of the Royal tombs to explore a little further, then sat to think of our next possible hurdle – the High Place of Sacrifice. Exhausted and a little nervous, we began the climb. This time, I chose not to count steps until the way down, since we had no idea what was ahead.

There were so many steps, and we were starting to really feel the previous hike. As Erin and I struggled up the first hundred or so, I started to get a second wind, especially since the stairs were a bit shorter and more uniform. Even so, there was no sign of reaching the end, and we were holding our legs to keep ourselves moving up. After climbing hard for 30 minutes, Erin sat to take a break with Mike, and I went ahead to see if we were close. Not even 25 steps further, the path levelled and the two Obelisks at the top became visible. Even so, we still had a hundred steps to go.  At this point, Erin really started to fade. By the time we’d reached the last 50 steps, she was crawling on all fours, telling us not to touch her, and telling Mike she would kill him for making us do this. Meanwhile, Mike and I had sat down because we were laughing so hard our sides were splitting.

Finallly, we reached the top, and stood in the area where animals were sacrificed, amidst channels to collect the blood from them. Erin walked ahead, lay down on the precipice, and claimed she was dead. We went to join her. The view was unbelievable.

While we were at the top, we met a boy from Boston who’d just come to Jordan a day previously from Birthright in Israel. He was getting quite a bit of uncomfortable attention from a Bedouin lady selling wares at the top, so we kept him company as a barrier. We definitely warmed to him, too, when he took a photo of us and said that we totally looked like Archaeologists. What a guy.

After a quick rest, we realized that we were nearly out of time to get back to our meeting point, and started climbing fairly briskly back down. The staircase is only steps from the Treasury, and since it’s on the way back we went through it to get a closer look. We took photos, as the crowds had really dispersed by 3 pm. While I was taking a picture of Mike in front of the Treasury, a boy with a camel came up and asked me if I wanted to ride a Jamil. I said no thank you. He said, once in a lifetime experience. I said, I’ve already ridden on one twice. Thanks. We walked away to find Erin, who’d joined a few of our group to sit at shop a little ways away, and began a slow walk back. We were all pretty tired, irritable, and sick of being accosted for sales at every turn. When we had left the Siq and were going up the gravel path back to the gate, we were asked twice if we wanted to ride a horse back, free with our ticket. Erin impatiently responded “No it’s not!” and walked away. Of course, we hadn’t paid for tickets so we had no idea, but we didn’t say anything about that.

We reached the gate tired, but with ten minutes to spare, so we went to freshen up in the bathrooms. Taking off our backpacks, we were plastered with sweat on our backs and where the straps had hit. It was ridiculous. We noticed the woman next to us was washing her face and hands, too, in jeans and a t-shirt, and we both eyed each other curiously. Then, she pulled on a long robe, hijab, and face covering, and in seconds was wearing a full burkha. It was surprising, and humanizing, to see her transformation. Both Erin and I were surprised and felt moved by the experience.

 

We walked out, grabbed another 1.5L each of water (we’d all run out, though we’d each been

carrying 3L), and bought ice creams. Then, as the others joined us, the bus arrived. We

clambered on. As it drove to the top of the hill, I could see the place where the Monastery peeked out from between the mountains, in line with the High Place of Sacrifice as well as two of the highest points. It was so cool to think we’d just been there!

By the next town a few km later, the exhaustion started to hit and the bus quieted as 19 sleepy people napped their way back to Humayma. We couldn’t keep our eyes open. We arrived back at Shokini, no longer on vacation, but completely satisfied with our amazing day off.

The past work week has been really satisfying, as well – we finished SQ 20, and I’ve drawn the top plan, a pretty detailed task which I found completely delightful. I also had the chance to see the Aqaba museum, where there’s an entire room (albeit, a very small room) devoted to Humayma. Pretty cool! Now that the week is over, we’re looking forward to a quiet day off near home. I honestly can’t wait, but it’s amazing to think that we’re already into the last week. Now that it’s coming to a close, it’s hard to believe how much we’ve seen and done. What an unbelievable experience so far.

And just to think, there’s still more to come! 

 

 

Petra (Part 1)

When it was listed as one of the new Seven Wonders of the World, I did a bit of research on Petra to learn more about it. This was just before my first year at Queen’s, where my first class in Classical Archaeology with Dr. Reeves introduced us to it again, in the form of a guest lecture given by an excavator at the site itself. With its Classical and architectural relevance in mind, we travelled to Petra on Thursday evening. 

We left after lunch from the Dig House in Aqaba, taking our usual bus which we’d booked for the occasion. It was markedly unusual, however, to see such well-dressed people sitting on one of Tal-al’s rather ancient minibuses, festooned with tasseled curtains, fake plastic flowers and one small, heart-shaped pillow, with the word “love” emblazoned in gold thread across the front of its plush red surface, hanging from the rearview mirror. It was also rare to see so many people sitting up on the bus, since we usually fall asleep nearly instantly for any drives to site. However, a crowd of 19 Junior Excavators, Junior Staff and Senior Staff cheerfully chatted our way through the 2 hour drive from Aqaba to Petra. We rolled through the mountains as Mike, Erin and I drank frozen water, chilled specially for the occasion. I was in the very front seat, and it offered the most beautiful panoramic view of the mountains as we climbed their crest. Unfortunately, it also allowed me to see that we were inches from driving off the road, and I definitely noticed that our driver seemed more intent on snacking than steering when the edge was closest. Uh oh.

When we reached Petra, there was some immediate confusion over where we would be dropped off – the driver seemed convinced we wanted to go to Petra Palace, a swanky hotel that none of the students could afford, while we repeatedly worked to convey that we wanted to be dropped off at the gates to the site itself so we would know our way when we returned later that night. This led to about 20 confused minutes of arguing, phoning people with better English to get them to translate, pulling people onto the bus to translate, and finally giving up altogether only to realize that the gate was less than 50m from Petra Palace, where the arguments were taking place, and that we could actually see it from the bus itself. Kind of embarrassing, I’d say, and really frustrating to boot.

Now, the bus had come down a mountain to reach the gate, but I had seen the sign for our hostel, and it wad definitely at the top of the mountain. So we marched up from the gate, taking about 20 minutes to climb to the top, and a few minutes more to figure out which direction we needed to take to retrace our drive. We arrived to Saba’a (Sun, which also means Saturday AND the number 7 – gets confusing) with two other groups in tow, got to our room, dropped our stuff and packed small bags for the evening, went to grab dinner at a small open-air barbecue restaurant overlooking the sunset, and hurriedly continued downhill to the gate, where we were to meet up with the others. 

Those of us who had planned an overnight had come down Thursday evening specifically for Petra by Night, which the Lonely Planet described to me as an adventure where, “Like a grumbling camel caravan of snorting coughing, laughing, and farting miscreants, 200 people and one jubilantly crying baby make their way down the Siq ‘in silence.’” Naturally, the majority of the excavators thought this sounded like a wonderful idea. Being a total nutcase for planning, I’d called ahead to reserve our 17 tickets, so we arrived at the gate and experienced only mild to moderate confusion when finding where to pay and actually paying for them. It was pretty ridiculous, but fortunately sorted itself out pretty quickly.

By 8:30, groups were lined up to enter the Siq. Based on their behaviour, I’d say that they read the Lonely Planet entry as well – they were taking their coughing, laughing, and farting pretty seriously. Thus, we started our Journey as part of a rushing throng of exceptionally loud people, our group included. After a few moments, Mike, Erin, and I started trailing behind the crowds, until the numbers of people thinned out and the noise became an ever more distant hum. Looking over to the left, there was the faint outline of a rock face. Looking more closely, we could see detailed carvings and entry points in the rock itself. Realizing what we were looking at was so shocking – even knowing what we would see definitely did not prepare me for its actual appearance before us. No guidebook, lecture, or amount of prior knowledge could do that. 

 

Lost in Tranlsation

So today was a special event for many of the fourth years on the dig - their graduation. It was exciting, and fun, and of course has led to a lot of surprises for them as well. First to come was at lunchtime today, when our pottery analyst, Sheri, brought out pound cake to share with everyone as a congratulatory gift. 

However, something must be understood about customs in Jordan to understand why this led to the hilarious events of dinnertime. Here, when you give out a gift in celebration, it's usually for a special occasion for YOURSELF. So the restaurant owner thought that it was Sheri's birthday! At first, when a cake came out, we didn't realize what was going on, thinking it was a gift for the graduates. However, when the candles were lit, we thought it must be her birthday as well, and sang to her. She blew out her candles and was given the first piece of cake. When the lights went back up, she said, in a rather confused voice, "Just Clap, everyone." It was so silly.

But we had cake! Twice in one day! Such fun.

They also bought her birthday gifts, which just serves as further reinforcement of how amazingly sweet, welcoming, and inviting the people we've met so far are. For someone who's virtually a stranger, the people we've met are certainly willing to go the extra mile on our behalf.

With love from Jordan! 

Madaba, the Dead Sea and Jerash

Well, what a beautiful weekend! With three weeks passed, we had a long weekend to recuperate from the work so far. It hasn't been as strenuous since we stopped working heavily with the big tools, but being in shared accomodations and feeling a bit isolated sometimes takes its toll. That's why we were so excited to get to spend a weekend away from the dig house, with smaller groups. When we started planning, a group of four girls (including myself) decided to travel together - Daniela, Dominique, and Darcye are all going into second year, are incredibly sweet and fun, and super relaxed. The perfect combination for a weekend away!

After ending work on Thursday, we had our weekly site tours - with everyone eager to get on a bus, we breezed through them and headed back into Aqaba. Backpacks were unpacked and repacked, clothing changed, showers taken, lunch scarfed down, final errands run and finally movement made towards the exit to Shokini so we could trek down to the bus station to catch the 4:00 to Amman. The ride was relatively uneventful – we travelled in the same bus as several other groups (including my roommates in the seats in front of us!), snacking, listening to music, mocking the incredibly cheesy films that were playing in Arabic over a screen in front of us. The bus system is treated much like an airplane, actually, with a stewardess from whom you can purchase drinks and movies the entire way as well. 

 

Four hours later, we were dropped off in Amman, into a scene of chaos – tourists, our many groups, and the other bus travellers thrown into a scene of cab drivers offering different fares. With a touch of concern, we joined the throng and I agreed to the first driver offering what seemed like a reasonable fare to Madaba. We piled into the car – Ds in the back and me in the front seat – and drove off. I was extremely grateful for many similar crazy scenes and the example of my lovely and necessarily assertive mother while travelling under my belt to prepare for the ridiculous driving, packed spaces and confusion we’d already encountered.

Our drive to Madaba was with a lovely man named Mohammed, originally from Iran and living in Jordan since being shot at 16 times in his country. Many of his friends and family had died, were stuck, or were  missing – it was so unsettling and an uncomfortable reminder of how close in proximity the Middle Eastern countries are to one another, while also seeming so far apart – while the distance to his home is a fairly easy distance, it seems unsurmountable when considering how the difficulties he would face upon returning, social, political, and personal.

After 40 minutes of chatter and reckless driving (front seat had a seat belt – a nice change from most Jordanian vehicles!), we arrived in Madaba to find the most disorganized turning circle I’ve yet seen in this beautiful country. It would seem that in Jordan, there is only one rule to entering/exiting these areas – don’t hit anything/anyone. Based on how people drive, it’s easier said than done. Lanes are a suggestion, most rear view mirrors broken or nonexistent, and side mirrors I’ve seen used maybe once. Otherwise, the best tool for communicating to other drivers is honking your horn, signalling one of several things:

1) You can’t merge into this lane, because I’m in your way.
2) I’m right behind you, and you’re in my way.
3) I’m feeling particularly irritable and just wanted something to do.

Based on these clear signals, people obviously understand one another’s driving techniques.

After some slight confusion, we arrived at the Meriam hotel where we were to stay for the night. We settled into two cozy bedrooms with little balconies and enjoyed the sensation of being chilled when we went down to grab food by the pool. It was amazing, and so luxurious after Shokini that we started feeling that it was truly a vacation.

Exhausted, we settled in for the night, then woke up the next morning after a sleep in (7 AM!) to grab breakfast included in the hotel’s cost. What a treat to find pancakes and scrambled eggs were  both available! After weeks of pita and cravings for home, having some familiar food was a very welcome change.

With the help of the incredible hotel staff, we managed to get a driver to take us on our first adventure: a trip to the Dead Sea. Ahmed took us out of Madaba along winding roads, stopping often to indulge our wish to take pictures of the amazing scenery, donkeys, camels, and the like. There was so much greenery compared to Aqaba, with fruit vendors lining the street with their wares and a shocking number of trees. Combined with the gentle curves of the mountains, the view was unbelievable.

When Ahmed pointed out a local Mosaic factory, he took us inside to watch people producing some incredible creations from tiny pieces of stone. It was fantastic to watch as one of the employees explained how the patterns were laid, the stones cut, then temporarily glued with a paper maché mix of flour and water, before being transferred to a prepared plaster surface, smoothed in, cleaned, and left to dry. It was so cool, and some of the designs were incredibly intricate. There were even ostrich eggs decorated with a fine needle, like a tattoo across their surface. It was amazing. We were offered welcome drinks and given the chance to browse through the shop’s selection, which we did, taking far longer than the fifteen minutes Ahmed had suggested while he patiently waited. It was unreal, and such fun.

We finally piled back into the car to continue our journey, the anticipation building as we saw a body of water no bigger than some of Canada’s smaller lakes appear to our left. It was a brownish colour, and even from a distance, looked clearly Dead. The salinity of the Dead Sea is so great that only the smallest and most resilient organisms can survive in its waters.

Ahmed stopped briefly to demonstrate to us a really cool feature on one hill – the magnetic force of a particular spot keeps your car rolling forward uphill while in neutral! It was so strange and interesting to watch. When Ahmed restarted the car, we were practically bouncing out of excitement, and going down the mountainsides and towards the beach we were all so bubbly. It was a few minutes later that we arrived at Amman Beach, a “public” bathing area meant for tourists, where our usual bathing gear would be appropriate, though unusual. After paying the hugely inflated entrance fee, we adventured down the steps towards the water. Setting our towels down in the sand, we walked in and formed a circle, then sat back in the water. The second we lifted our feet from the ground, the floated up to the surface. It was shocking, amazing, hilarious. We laughed outrageously, doing barrel rolls and getting stuck on our stomachs repeatedly as the water forced us up to the surface. I was hugely grateful for my guidebook’s recommendation not to go near coral reefs or any other beaches beforehand for fear of small cuts, though, as the water was SO salty that even the smallest cuts on our fingers were painful. The water felt greasy from salt, and when we went to dry our hands they were so coated in the water that it wouldn’t come off.

Once we’d overcome the initial surprise and excitement of the Sea, we hopped out and bargained our way to buying Dead Sea mud, supposedly filled with minerals and healing properties, to coat ourselves in. It was black, smelled a little funny, and covered our bodies like a second skin. Liberally applying the mud, we were joined by a young woman from the American Embassy to Georgia, on her way home from an assignment as a liason with Washington, D.C. Together, we laughed as one of the staff on the beach helped us take pictures, seeing as we’d unfortunately forgotten to keep one hand mud-free for photos. After fifteen minutes of letting the mud harden into a black, smelly, leathery layer of goo, we made the journey back to the water to rinse off. On the way, we were stopped by three boys from Lebanon who wanted to take a picture with us, which we allowed. Then, we continued into the shallow water, rinsing off with great difficulty and getting splashed by another group of young men. Going out further, I realized that the group from the photo had followed us in, and we were now encircled by a number of young men, who were trying to separate our group. Realizing what was happening and watching them get closer to us, we started swimming back towards shallower water, until a lifeguard whistled them angrily out of the water. It was a little unsettling, but definitely couldn’t dampen the awesomeness of our day!

We got out to shower off the salt water, and realized that our skin looked really red, like a sunburn everywhere that the mud had been. Though we tried to wash it off in the showers, it wasn’t going anywhere – we were stained red! It looked so silly. Hungry and tired, we headed back to meet Ahmed. We took a different route back to the hotel, travelling near a river valley and through orchards of guava and fig, though we missed seeing quite a few areas because we’d all fallen asleep! We returned to the hotel to change, grabbed our stuff, and headed out to get shawarma and explore Madaba. I left my bathing suit to soak in the bathroom sink, hoping that somehow the mud would come out!

We went into the city, hoping first to find St. George’s church, renowned for its beautiful mosaic floor. We went in, and I lit a candle on my way, thinking of all the family and friends I’m missing, before walking to see the remains of the floor. It was beautiful, showing a surprisingly accurate depiction of the Holy Land, with Greek writing showing place names and describing them.  It also showed the Dead Sea, with a river flowing into it and a fish swimming away near the salty entrance. The only thing that was a little odd was the placement of the Nile, East of the Dead Sea. However, this has a really interesting biblical reason, as all things in the Old Testament start in the East, and so the Nile is put to the East to show its religious significance. After taking a good, long look, I sat at the back of the church. As we looked up and admired, many other visitors walked in, taking a knee at the entrance and crossing themselves. Now, I should note that Madaba’s population is 2/3 Christian. It was really moving, and a little overwhelming to be surrounded by such faith and spirituality. Being there and witnessing the continued devotion to such a marvellous spot was so uplifting.

When we left the church, we thought about going to find another one with more complete mosaic, as St. George’s was heavily damaged and only 1/3 survives. While wandering down the street though, we passed an adorable shopping district and decided to go through it, taking our time, bargaining, and making purchases. When we wandered into one shop, however, things were not so simple.

While bargaining, the man running the store kept calling each of us “sister,” and when we had finished our shopping and were walking out, he said to me, “Sister, I see God in you,” and urged us to come into his shop again, for only five minutes, he said, and sit down. He made me take a seat, and started saying that I was a troubled soul, with a winding path which my family and friends couldn’t quite understand. He said that I woke up with tremors, which while not exactly true, was still profoundly disturbing to hear. Then, when he spoke again, he told me to relax, which was obviously not going to happen (and I told him so). At this point, we were pretty freaked out, and then he started to pray over me, saying to God that “I never ask you for anything,” and then finally reaching out his hand and touching my forehead.
It was too much.
I giggled.

He broke from his trance, and looked at me, then started saying how he was 56 and had been celibate his whole life, and was devoted to the Lord alone, and then said to us that we should go to his priest, Thomas, who would help us. At this point, noticing how frightened and upset I had become, Darcye tried to get us out of there, but it took another ten minutes of his rambles before we could finally leave. At that point Dom came over to me, squeezed my hand and said “that guy was SO scary. Are you ok?” To which I responded, with the first thought that popped into my head, “I think I just had an exorcism!”
We started rushing off, totally hysterical and laughing outrageously, while sort of crying as well. Daniela, totally unphased, walked straight into the shop next door, but it took a ton of persuasion from Darcye to get Dominique and me to make our way back towards the crazy man’s shop. We braced ourselves and adventured in, which turned out to be a great idea since the shop owner was so friendly, and like so many Jordanians, loved to dress Daniela up (she apparently looks Iranian and all the men here find her completely gorgeous). He was so sweet and nearly made us forget our earlier run-in. However, as we walked out of the shop, Dom and I agreed on one point. We really needed wine.

We wandered back towards our hotel, passing a shop which had a stunning array of wine choices – two. White, or red. We picked white, and the guys working behind the counter gave us two bags of ice to cool it down. We got back to our hotel, set down the bottle and decided to go for a swim in the pool.

While changing, Darcye was going to use the sink when she noticed that there, on top of my bathing suit, was her toothbrush. It had fallen from the ledge above. This was problematic for several reasons, not the least of which was the disgusting, Dead Sea mud-water in the sink. More importantly, though, we aren’t supposed to drink the tap water in Madaba or Amman. While Dom had already forgotten this rule every night AFTER she’d started brushing her teeth (“Oh Crap! I used the tap water again. Oh well” –Dom), Darcye threw out her toothbrush and we told the girls on our way to the pool, laughing at the ridiculousness. I was still laughing about it a little when we got back upstairs and I hopped into the shower to try and scrub off some of the Dead Sea that was still staining my body. After a lot of effort, I turned off the water only to realize the shower curtain had been a little open, and the water had splashed my toothbrush as well!

Two toothbrushes down.

We went to a pharmacy to pick up some of the worst, most overpriced toothbrushes imaginable, then headed into town for dinner. At night, it was very noticeably different from Aqaba, as we were the only women around. After our uncomfortable run-in in the morning, we decided to find a place nearby, and went into a darkened restaurant with amazing, spicy bread, hummus, and falafel. We got back, and tried to open the wine. Unfortunately, it would seem my Swiss Army knife really isn’t made to handle the Mount Nebo Wine cork. Using a t-shirt, and a ton of effort, we got half the cork out at a time, with Dom nearly punching herself in the face when she took a turn trying to remove it. Finally, we broke in to find that it wasn’t really cold, and that it wasn’t really very good, either. Still, we chatted and passed the bottle around and recovered from our eventful day. Then, brushing her teeth, Darcye washed her toothbrush with tap water. Announcing this, we laughed and she rinsed it with bottled water, refusing to let another toothbrush go to waste.

The next morning, we woke up late again (two sleep-ins! 7:05!), ate, and started to pack. As I was brushing my teeth, thinking about how funny it was that Darcye had ruined another toothbrush and how I shouldn’t rinse it again, I stuck my toothbrush reflexively under the water.

Oh dear.

Four toothbrushes later, we had a driver named Abdullah take us out to the ruins at Jerash. Along the way, we saw a river coursing through a valley – it was such a shock to see fresh water running so energetically downhill, we actually exclaimed out loud. After a long drive, we turned a corner in a village and were face to face with some of the most stunning ruins I’ve ever seen, stuck right in the middle of a town of rolling hills and stuccoed houses. It was so cool, and so stunning. We wandered through Jerash for two hours, exploring the road, watching archaeologists at work, climbing through ruins of temples and churches, and finally reaching a small temple to Artemis, with a large well in the centre. We asked a younger guy working in the area to take a picture, and Dom put down her water bottle, not realizing that she’d rested it on the edge of the well. We watched, as if in slow motion, as it rolled, and tumbled, down into the depths. The same guy gave us two cold water  bottles to replace it, which was really sweet, but it was still completely worthwhile to make fun of Dom.

As we left the area, we wandered towards our final stop, the amphitheatre nearest the entrance. It was incredibly complete, and many of the features that make ancient amphitheatres so exceptional were still intact, including amplification systems. It was pretty funny to test them, especially since there were two Bedouin men working in the centre to prove the amphitheatre’s functionality, using drums and – wait for it – bagpipes. They were bagpiping to their heart’s content, the same tune, every five minutes. It was so bizarre. They really didn’t go well together, the ancient ruins and bagpipes, except as Queen’s students we appreciated the combination of ancient studies and Highland music. Funnily enough, there are also Scotch thistles growing EVERYWHERE in Jordan, and to huge sizes. It’s pretty ridiculous.

As our day neared its end, we drove back to Amman to catch the 2:00 bus, buying our tickets at the exact same moment as another group from our trip (Jake, Robin, Meaghan and Danielle, who had also been in the next door room our second night in Madaba) arrived at the bus terminal. Unfortunately, both of us had gone to the wrong one! We ended up driving right behind them all the way to our departure point, buying the most delicious pizza for the journey, and then hopping on the bus together with yet another group – Mike, Erin, Miranda and Natasha.

When we arrived back to the heat of Aqaba, it was a little sad to end our amazing weekend, but it felt a bit like coming home. It was also so nice yesterday to reunite with our squares – we made huge progress and found TWO Roman coins (I found the second one, and it was pretty big!). Today, we’re maybe a few wheelbarrows of dirt away from finishing the probe I’ve started today in one corner of our square, a smaller area to see where the aqueduct’s foundation ends and if it matches up with the other areas we’ve dug. Because we’re so close, we’ve actually opened another square in the area adjacent. It’s pretty exciting, but Square 20 will be sadly missed.

That’s all for now, but best wishes and lots of love from Aqaba (high today of 46 degrees Celsius, I’m told!). Ma’as salaam!

 

all the family

After a few pretty standard days on site, I was unsure of what to add to share with my family/friends about the dig so far. We have a few exciting things coming up - namely, a visit this long weekend to Jerash, Madaba, and the Dead Sea with a few friend - but in the meantime, I realized I've left some important features out of this trip. Most significantly, my roommates and the many other friends I've had the pleasure to meet and get to know these past few weeks. So here goes a few quick notes on the people I've met digging and have grown to adore already, as well as some accompanying anecdotes (the ones I can share without them killing me) to help colour their descriptions.

When I first met Erin, it was in the airport in London, after we'd both been awake from an indecent number of hours. She seemed really quiet and a bit shy - a horrible misconception that was soon corrected. When we found out that we were going to be living together, I was a little uncertain about how we'd get along, especially since I talk so darn much. But after spending a few days together, I was in awe of how funny, silly and quirky this amazing girl can be. She's a camp counsellor, and I know that if I were one of her campers, she'd be my favourite. Our first outings, she always made sure to be respectful of cultural differences and including everyone. It's pretty fantastic. She's also hilarious, unbelievably warm, always up for a challenge, and has no fear. She'll hike up the highest hills, but she'll also do the most ridiculous things as well.

Yesterday, when we were up on the roof to do our pottery washing, Erin said she'd brush her teeth with one of the pottery tooth brushes for 1JD. I took her up on the offer, and she ran the brush over her front teeth a few times. When others saw what was happening, Aaron said "what the hell would you do for five?" Erin definitely has a lot of energy, and uses it to be the most fun ever.

Then, we have Natasha. Tash is the oldest, but not the most mature, Junior Excavator on the whole dig. She's straightforward and no-nonsense, and that was my first impression of her when we met. Not a week later, though, I realized something else. She's the most likely to make fart jokes, to tell you in the funniest way what she thinks of a situation, and to laugh at herself and others, too. When we are talking nonsense, she'll break down into laughter that will have you collapsing on the stairs with her as well. On the other hand, when you have a serious concern or need to vent, she's an epic listener and so generous with her time. Together, they're spectacular - the most adventurous, energetic people on the dig. They're wonderful and I don't know what I'd do if I hadn't met them and gotten to know them. Together, they make it feel like our room is a haven, and I already adore them so much.

Another fairly constant feature in our room is Mike C, one of the few people I knew before joining the dig. We'd only met a handful of times, but have many friends in common. Even though it took him nearly six months to learn my name, and he works at CoGro, we've already gotten to know each other really well. He's adventurous to the point of danger, though, so I'm the first person to jump to conclusions about the elaborate ways he'll injure himself and we'll have to come find him. It's pure craziness, but we definitely have a similar sense of humour and fun, and he's a great comrade. Going through Wadi Rum together two weeks ago

, he was the one person that I felt certain would go on such distant adventures into gorges that he'd break his leg falling through a Nabatean tomb, forcing us to come look for him while snakes cooling off in the tomb climbed across his body (haven't seen a snake yet, just for the record!), and then we would have to drive through the desrt and to a hospital. Fortunately, it turns out that he's secretly part monkey, and can climb everything with no fear and no problems. He also makes sure everyone feels safe and included, which is super cool. 

These are just a few of the faces I've met - I'll share more about Darcye, Dominique, Daniela and many others when I have the chance. For now, it's off to dinner - salaam!