“Dancing on the earth”

I am sorry I have been MIA for awhile—the longest duration of time cyber-silent from my blogger reporter/observer post since my safari in Kenya last October (it is always fun to remind everyone I went on safari in Kenya last autumn!). I have had guests in town for the last two weeks.

Guests! My first guests to visit me in Jordan! Receiving guests is one of the surest signs of creating a home somewhere; with these people coming to see you, transferring memories and emotions and loved ones from one place of residence to another, it makes you so conscious of what is around you. From modes of transportation to housing to outdoor temperatures to errands to the hoi polloi of daily life, opening and sharing your home does make you feel established.

While I was in New York at New Years’, my treasured friend Anne and her delightful buddy Martha decided to visit me in Jordan during the Spring Break of Hackley School. We went on-line and booked tickets, shocking me with the low fares in March (almost half of what I pay at the times of year I criss-cross from Jordan to the heartland of the United States!) Since January I have been planning what I would do with my first guests in Jordan. It wasn’t spring break for me, so the questions whizzed ‘round my head: How can I steal time away from school? How will I get my grades and comments done? What all can we see? Where would they feel comfortable visiting in their first time to the Middle East? Anne’s husband Peter asked that we not leave the boundaries of Jordan, so there would be no quick trips to Cairo or Istanbul, but I figured we would fill enough of Jordanian delights to pack in the two weeks of their visit.

As I look back on these last two weeks, it was indeed a pleasure. It was also exhausting! While Anne and I have traveled together multiple times in the last 10 years, I have never had to teach school, attend meetings, secure boarding duties, interview prospective students and teachers, all the while attempting a full-scale vacation journey. You see, Anne is not a part-time traveler, or an accidental tourist. She is an explorer, savor-er, do-er, try-er, shopper, and travel reveler to the nth degree. I thought I would give you an idea of what we accomplished in their first week in Jordan.

Sunday
My colleague and friend Fatina drove me to the airport to collect Anne and Martha and welcome them to Jordan. As they emerged into the welcoming area, as other families greeted one another, Anne and Martha waved enthusiastically. “Hello! We made it!” As Anne hugged me, and took the first of her plethora of pictures, she also stuck her hand in her black travel-jacket, looked at something, and deposited a packet of Gulden’s mustard in my hand. “You might need this,” she said. In a nutshell, that is what traveling with Anne is like—you never know when a packet of mustard will come in handy, I suppose, and generous Anne will keep it and give it to you to save for that needy moment. Anne only wears this black jacket when traveling, and we guessed the packet got nipped at the airport last June when we bought sandwiches to eat in JFK waiting for our plane to Halifax, Nova Scotia. Of course, it doesn’t matter—it is just a fun game to figure out when and where such things like arcane, archaic mustard packets might have made it into Anne’s pocket.

That night there was a reception at the headmaster’s house for a visiting official from Columbia University, and this provided a wonderful chance for many at KA to meet Anne and Martha. Later that night I borrowed Tessa’s car, Freeda, and for the first time in my eight months in Jordan, I drove down the road to Madaba to our go-to restaurant, Harat Jdoudna. I drove! I felt fully like a 17-year old figuring out the road all by himself.


Monday
The following morning I let them sleep late, and then from 10:30-11:30 I gave them a campus tour, enjoying the meet and greet atmosphere of showing off my friends. I was not the only one with guests in tow—a veritable torrent of guests had descended on the campus. Evidently many took advantage of spring breaks in the USA, and at least six different colleagues had families or best friends wandering around, enjoying the calm of the Madaba countryside, marveling at the emerald fields just outside the campus walls, and spying the new wildflowers. After lunch A&M attended an English Department meeting (actually we call it CRLA—which stands for “Communication, Rhetoric, Langauge Arts,” a combo of English and Arabic departments). After they visited a class of mine, Tessa took them to see the Byantine- era mosaics in Madaba. We were invited to a little party colleague Chris had for her visiting family, and we ended the day with a leisurely dinner and the ever-popular (and ubiquitous) Middle Eastern Mixed Grill with Eric.

Tuesday
Anne visited the English class she would teach the following Monday while Tessa would be busy with a conference, and then A&M joined my class as we watched and discussed the last 30 minutes of the great film, The Mission and enjoyed our discussions of 18th century Spain and China. A&M spent time with Lubna, one of the support staff, affectionately dubbed, “Miss Lubs” by Tessa. That afternoon we left with student Hamzah and Tessa to take Hamzah home to his hometown of Karak. I had rented a car, and now had a car at our disposal for the next two weeks! Just a few miles down the road of the Desert Highway, we get a call that Tessa’s long-lost sea shipment had just arrived and they needed her to sign for it. But soon we were in the car, heading the 2 hours to Karak.

Hamzah’s family had invited us to dinner, and they provided us with a premier example of Jordanian hospitality. As we drove up to his house, the family runs outside to greet us, with hugs and kisses (a single on one cheek, a double on the other) and entreaties to come in and rest with some tea. Hamzah’s house is basic, but the pride in this wondrous boy is magnificent, and the delight at these visitors in their midst heartwarming. Hamzah’s mother had made mansaf, Jordan’s comfort food, and while they provided us with plates and utensils, Anne opted to eat the feast in the way Jordanians prefer: digging in with your hands, making a ball of the rice and meat, and getting your hands all good and sticky with the yogurt sauce on top. As is the Bedouin custom, the family left the room so the guests could eat to their hearts’ content. I did ask Hamzah to join us, and he said one family member may join in. The rest of the evening was enhanced by the graciousness and care of the family for our needs and comfort. Before we left, Hamzah's father showed us the word processor the family has, and the screen-saver is a picture of Hamzah and me taken at KA. Certainly one of the sweetest things I have enjoyed as a teacher...

At the end of the evening, Hamzah’s father took us to a hotel up on top of the huge hill of Karak. We stayed at the modest Karak Rest House. Towels and heat, well, let’s just say, sometimes one can do without some things and still have a restful night.

Wednesday
In the morning we had breakfast in the dining room of the Rest House right in the cliff face overlooking the stunning valley. Hamzah joined us later on as we visited the Archaeological Museum enjoying artifacts back from the Stone Age to the contemporary period about Karak. We tromped around the Crusader castle, then had lunch in one of the renovated guild halls of the castle. Oh you might wonder why we were able to take this field trip during the school week—we had a long weekend since the birthday of Muhammad, the Prophet’s Birthday, fell on Thursday, and so we had off Wednesday and Thursday. Never one to be idle we made plans to tour other parts of Jordan!

We drove back towards Amman, and had reservations at one of the luxury resorts at the Dead Sea. The Moevenpick is a smashing property with rooms with balconies, lush flora and fauna, breathtaking views of the mountains and the Dead Sea, and exceptional amenities. It was decidedly upscale, but truth be told, the care of the staff couldn’t compare to the lovely warmth we had the night before with Hamzah’s family.

Thursday
Relaxing morning—breakfast buffet extraordinaire, then taking to the beach at the sea. As we stood on the edge of the Lowest Point on Earth, slathering the sensuous black mud on ourselves, Anne started a conversation with one of the other vacationers. “Where are you from?” she inquired of the nice man talking with her. “I work in Amman now, but I am from Cincinnati,” said the man who began to look more and more like Al Jolson. “No way! I’m from Cincinnati,” I said. So here we are, on the other side of the world, talking about Skyline Chili and Graeter’s Ice Cream, and how hard it is to figure out Amman without traffic signs. Indeed a small world. The rest of the day was a spa day—it does make one tired relaxing so much!

Friday
Today we head up to the north of Jordan. Our destination is Um Qais, a Greco-Roman town over 2000 years old. I have never been there, but since I am now an expert driving in our superb rental car, we fearlessly head north to see what we would find. It was almost a three-hour drive, but through the fields and valleys the scenery provided stark contrast to the desert of the previous two days.

We hike up to the ruins of the town, and lo and behold, there is a great place for lunch. I actually knew the place existed, and it was a spot worth the entire drive—this restaurant, designed to fit into the “ruined” look of the Greco-Roman town, overlooks a spectacular view. We see Syria to the North, we see Lebanon on the western horizon, and directly below us lay the Golan Heights and the Sea of Galilee. Spectacular.

As dusk approaches we notice many, many Jordanian families pouring into the site, starting picnic suppers, visiting, and most of them jockeying for positions on the old city walls that look down upon Israel and the Sea of Galilee. It was Mother’s Day in Jordan, so obviously a holiday and good day for picnics—but as we watched these families, there was another vibe we detected as they stood on the wall wistfully looking at the breathtaking view. Interestingly, the old World War II-song, “The White Cliffs of Dover” popped into my mind. Now it isn’t as strange as it sounds—we had been playing a CD of old war songs in the car that day, so we had the Vera Lynn elegy in our heads anyway. But as we paused and looked at the faces staring wistfully over at Israel and the famous Sea from biblical times, seemingly just a reach away, they reflected the same bittersweet longing in the words of the song, “there’ll be blue birds over the white cliffs of Dover, tomorrow when the world is free.”

In the car I wondered—did we read too much into their longing looks? The following day I asked Fatina about those families, their poses, the hope and despair in their eyes, and she confirmed that the families drove up there specifically to peer into Israel, a land where many families had come, been expelled, and had such difficulty visiting. We hadn’t mistaken their longing. Sunset at Um Qais was one of the most moving moments of the first week with A&M.

I’m afraid I got carried away telling you of the itinerary of the trip; what I really wanted to focus on is the joy of traveling with Anne. Going somewhere with Anne, and now I find with my new friend Martha, is like regaling in a beautiful dance. The rhythm of exploring, the thrill of discovery, the sighs and sweat-soaked fatigue remind me of a marvelous dance. “I danced in the morning when the world was begun, and I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun…” goes the old Shaker hymn. “Dance then wherever you may be…” could very well be the motto of Anne as she travels the world, eating new things, staring at plants, looking at handicrafts, smiling at new faces. The energy one feels while in her presence when traveling reminds me of the psalmist who compelled us to bask in the joy of life, the joy of fellowship, to throw oneself into activities and revel in “dancing on the earth.”

Part II of their trip will soon follow...