Abu Samir's path

25th
Wow.  OK here we go, an attempt to talk you through the most formidable day of my memory.
In Madaba the previous day we met Abu Samir. to change his name to 'Father of Samir' one already knows how proud he must be
of his family.  A Romanian! He called himself.  He was beduin, so that was dubious from the beginning, but between Daoud's
Romanian, my arabic, and his fluency in all three languages (including english) he was pretty easy to communicate with.
We organized with him a day trip to three special sites.  Anna and Andrew are on a strict budget which is great because
it means I feel less frugal (in comparison) while we live a budget lifestyle.
First stop = Herrod's castle.  We were positioned at the top of one mountain, beside an even taller one, upon which stood two pillars.
In the spinning desert heat, all I could see clearly was that no spot of shade lay on our path.
  But it was special.  We found fossils depicting shells, from over 350 million years ago when the land was beneath the sea.
Moreover, it was Herrods castle where Salome danced.  Young Salome, dancing in competition For Herrod's hand so that she could fulfill
her mother's selfish desire to behead John the baptist.  The mountain was covered in tiny caves which had been caved over,
however it is known that the mountain had an underground system once (which is currently being researched).
  Back into Abu Samir's car, where we quickly noticed that he plays the same three Romanian club hits on repeat.  And he loves it.
It's hilarious.
  So Daoud and I had already gone to the dead sea, however it cost us 16JD as it was made into a tourist site.  Tourists are contained
into one tiny, modernised segment so no one can swim over to the Israeli side of the sea easily.  Abu Samir however is a man
of happy business.  Nothing bothers him 'smoking it's OK for me' said the man who chain smokes.
  We arrived at a part of the dead sea carpeted in salt chrystals and dipping ourselves into the thick salty brew heartily.
The patterns on the surface the sea are like a glittering petrol and we twisted into them as we slowly relaxed into it's
mood.
Next stop: The azarta ma'in.  So the hot water springs are also an expensive tourist attraction, however Abu Samir knew
where to find the springs which LED to the main springs.  A three hour hike through a grand canyon following a crystal clear
powerful creek.  The orange red green cliffs shot powerfully into the blue, though my head was lowered to my path sop that I
didn't slip on the mossy rocks.  Up the river, the water became hotter and hotter (and although we wanted cold water) we eventually
just collapsed into a hot pool by a (one of the many) slide where the water sucks you into the mineral pool so that you
resurface with a wild grin.
The end of our path was the waterfall.  By this stage we were out of drinking water but it was still fun.  We jumped from the highest
rock into the pool, swum into the cave behind the waterfall (like a sauna), and showered beneath a sister waterfall.
Beneath the fallic rock formations we splashed and laughed and the gaety shared was probably a good week's worth.
The camera fell into the water tragically but no worry no worry the memory card still worked.

On our way home Abu Samir took us back to his family home, and although he grew up in caves (being a beduin) he has now
built himself an impressive house in the outer Madaba where his Romanian wife and four children live with him. (on average
Abu Samir's siblings have around 12 children :O which is normal :O)
  We were too hungry to stay long so after the coffee and cakes we went back to our hotel.
I have mentioned the huge families who inhabit Madaba, well in the car we saw police men and army tanks scattering the streets,
and fire trickling along the roads.  Abu Samir explained calmly (although it's very uncommon) that a married muslim woman
had cheated on her husband with someone from another family.  The man she had the affair with was killed by the husband's
family.  Traditionally, When one person is killed from a family they thus can kill 4/5 people from their family.
So it was pay back time.  By maybe 1000 all the shops on the street were closed and our hotel advised that we didn't go onto
the street.  We were starved after the long day, yet resolved to eat the breakfast leftovers and drink David's birthday
present (Thai whisky).  I didn't know Jordan could be so silent.

Madaba: city of mosaics

PROLOGUE
It's difficult to type here, figure out the keyboard, and write from right to left :)

The 24th
We've now explored the North and decide to Head south (Anna, Andrew, Daoud and I)
Madaba! Home of mosaics. An early morning service bus weaves through the desert road to Madaba.  ALong the road you see repetitious
stalls of groceries, plants, as well as fields of molokheyye, olive trees (zeitoon!!), mishmish, fig, etc.  And lets
not forget the desert landscapes, layering volcanic cliffs with a constantly evolving series of patterns and colours.
Madaba is smaller and coiser than Amman.  It's made up of a few families, all making sure you know what his cousin's
business offers and unlike noisy Amman, the prayers that are played five times a day seem more appropriat and respected.

  One thing: no one here expects you to speak arabic as no tourist does.  I know barely a few phrases (far less arabic than their
english) yet they all grow excited 'you speak arabic! your very good!' they say and are genuinely impressed simply because
I try.  Australia - Jordan loves you more each day :)

We were all still exhausted yet decided to explore what the town offers.  Here, olive, grape, jasmine and fig trees grow out of every
gap between the stone streets and oh the tiny birds of jordan continue to excite me.

The town led us to a Christian Church (of St George) dedicated to the story of John the Baptist.  Hallelujah.  It was peaceful.
it's believed to be the site where he was beheaded (more on Salome later ;)).  The beauty of churches here are ineffable -
The paintings mosaics and stained glass preach the mythology of the land and I simply become entranced.  Later we got a lift
up Mt. Nebo - the site where Moses was buried.  From the top you could see the whole of Palestine...through the dust.  It
was dusty but I was happy to see the olive trees and birds which dribbled down the mountain. The bible stories are more
fascinating than Australia gives them credit.  I think Moses managed to live so long in the desert as he learned the beduin
desert skills like camel milk (works like yoghurt and ten times more effective)

Found an Al Hashims equivalent for more bread and garlic as well as a bottle of vodka which we shared over a bonding reflection.
The hotel we stayed in had us all on the roof for a cheaper option, as well as a kind frenchman who caused my arabic to twist
into a terrible confusion of three languages.

Jerash - city of ruins

The 23rd
Jaresh!! The anicent ruins of a city to all travellers, where markets, bath houses, churches, temples and ampitheatres
blossomed.  The intricate, sophisticated architechture told of Roman, Ottoman, and Helenistic influences which were
obviously inspired by the arable and cultured land.  To reach Jerash we took the service bus.  Understandbably, we tourists
pay tourist tax (as our friends Ana and Andrew have taught us).  We ate the old zartaa bread (manaeesh) for breakie and by
the time we were finished with Jerash it was evening, our water had run out long ago, and in the humungous and shade-less
city we were left drained of all colours save red from sun-burn.
  We have been travelling really slowly the four of us, as we all appreciate each nook and crany, end up befriending many
locals, find fossils and old paths, and frequently stop for chillout seshs'.
  We saw a man draw pictures within bottles out of sand (a skill beyond my logic), a Jordanian pipe band (dressed in traditional Scottish skirts),
and heard the cheers of a reenacted chariot race.
Jerash drew the skeleton of an oriental period full of mystisism and I felt like a lost princess.
My favourite site was the temple of Alemonia, the Roman goddess of fertility, (ironically) home to twisting fig trees and a young boy selling water!

sand artist

إضافة تسمية توضيحية

Arriving back in Amman we four voted on Al Hashims for our last dinner in Amman city of hustle and bustle.
Al Hashims provided my lunch and dinner diet of homos, falafel, bread bread bread for a consistently cheap price.
Slept well.

3 incredbible days squished into a bad post

view from Ajoun castle

Ajloun castle...day 3

Dave David RObert K and a random in Amman first night

a lovely Jordinians house for shai - he brought out his oud!

mish mish orchid : admiring the well as Omar talks us through it

Journey of a cloud indeed, for I am dancing with the current of the wind.

  The first sign of this sat beside me on the plane.  That he was a boy my age on a gap year was exciting enough at first but it became creepier and eventually i stopped saying 'me too!!' because I'd simply said it too many times.
  What conjures my suspiscions of fate is probably the sense of belonging which I've been showered with since

OK PAUSE David just ran in to announce that a man we met yesterday (to whom we mentioned our accomodation) just called the hostel and has invited us over for coffee.  my 2$ watch says its 830am so I think its time i showeered and went!

Now where was I? So Dubai airport had me nervous.  The city sparkled with opolent lights, bleeding through the night sky while inside sparkled the whites of hundreds of eyes.  I was overwhlemed.  They spoke of hardship and desperate times and I felt embarrassed for having experienced so little.

I tried to tame my smile as I skipped around the airport.  I lost it for sure after I sat down at my gate, when all my bag's contents scatter across the floor and I realize I had been walking around with my bag (of importance) wide open.

  In Dubai, I began to fear if I would ever fit in with these people.  How silly that was.  Before I had left customs, two men had already warned me to be careful and given their number in case I needed anything.  Ironic, as if I were to follow their advice, surely it would mean that I had not listened their advice?)
  Every Jordanian thus far has made me feel welcome from the depth of my heart. It's as though Jordan is their home and I am their guest and it is their duty to show me a good time.  And have they what! I feel it's impossible for me to explain what I've been up to because since I've arrived it's been non-stop.
  Travelling with David has been really fun because he puts in an effort to get to know people and make them feel special, so everyone likes us.  On top of this whenever I say 'ana min Palestine' wella! She's from Palestine! Where in Palestine? Your father? Your mother? etc. I have learnt that around 70% of Jordan is made up of Palestinians.  The remainder are from neighbouring countries like Iran, Afghanistan and Syria.  The true Jordans mainly only consist of the Beduins.
  I am yet to meet the Beduins. It takes a while to do anything here because the country is lazy like the camels.  Slow and happy. You have to be in order to safe your energy in the desert.  Don't get me wrong: They work hard 7 days a week of 10 hour shifts is not uncommon.  But they face their task with a laid back attitude one practices while they smoke shisha.  On our first day we (David, David (australia), Robert & K (America)) ventured up to a film festival. as everything in jordan it took much longer than expected, for people care about you.  You ask for directions 'where you from? welcome! how long you sit down (stay))
It was also this journey which led us to the front porch of a Palestinian Christian man who invited us all in for tea, brought down his ouud (arabic lute) and told us about his family.  His kindness was touching.  I would bore myself to talk about every encounter with a Palestinian Jordanian who has spoiled David and I.  They're extravagent with generority and terribly proud about their home.  Still.  They lost their family home in Palestine yet still they are proud - Proud to have had a home in Palestine and proud to share with you in their new home in Jordan.
  The dead sea, similarly, reflects the lazy desert country.  It's thick with sparkling crystal clarity and you feel stoned as you wade your way through it in slow motion.  It was here that we met our first Saudi Arabians.  They were pretty awesome; bought us ice-cream (people here set you up so you cannot say no!!) and were open to discuss their culture, politics and general attitude.  David talks good politics with the people so I can enjoy listening and learning (and saying funny comments).

Omar, anas and mohammed's weekend house where we danced

YEsterday we visited some ancient desert castles and a cool church.  Very pretty, great views etc.  We met Omar there - a Palestinian who thought it fun to do tourist things on his weekend.  He and his three friends took photos of eachother doing everything everywhere and while taking photos with us they invited us to their house.  Three of them and four of us (for Daoud (davids new name) and I met an australian/austrian couple - very worldly and on the ball) the car was very squishy.  We ended up at Anas' mish mish orchid where we picniced on nectarines, apricots and the nuts inside their seeds.  The three men were very funny and when it started raining (!!!!) we all ran muddily to the car and ended up playing snap, discussing the world (slowly), and dancing in their livingroom.
  After the 10 hour lunch visit they drove us all the way to our hostel in the downtown.  Daoud and I were too late to make our dinner plans (for we were invited to another Palestinians' for a dinner made by his wife) but Jordanians don't worry - for we can call him today at 430 and hang out some more anyway.

the key board has been so hard to use and I have no time to polish up this mess of ideas flying in the sky so I hope you make something good out of it :D