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.