No need to fear a trip to Jordan
Near Eastern country was full of history, surprises: a lesson to put preconceptions aside
When I told friends and relatives I was planning a trip to Jordan, many had the same reaction: “Don’t go. Are you crazy?”
I was well aware that Jordan borders Syria, Israel and Iraq — the main reason people were questioning my sanity. But from everything I had read about Jordan itself, it seemed like the Switzerland of the Middle East, studiously avoiding being drawn into the armed conflict raging around it. It also had a reputation as a progressive country with one of the best records in the region for women’s rights.
Only one person, a friend I trust implicitly who had worked for years as a foreign correspondent in the Middle East, had a different piece of advice. “Go,” he said.
Of course, I did. How could anyone turn down the chance to see the 2,000-year-old city of Petra and the deserts of Wadi Rum, where Lawrence of Arabia mustered an army to defeat the Turkish occupation?
Neither disappointed. In Petra, a narrow passageway between sandstone cliffs suddenly opened up to the massive columns and ornate carvings of the Treasury, carved out of the soft red stone to show off the city’s wealth and importance.
It’s impressive enough on its own, but it’s just the beginning of a stunning archeological site that should have been packed with tourists. Instead, the few hundred visitors were almost outnumbered by the locals offering camel rides and hawking souvenirs.
On the way out, a pair of giggling young girls agreed to pose for a photo, but only if I’d buy a set of the postcards they were selling. After I got my shot, I gave them the two U.S. dollars they were asking for and tried to wave off the postcards, which I didn’t really need or want. But they pressed them into my hands as if to make the point that they were entrepreneurs, not beggars.
In Wadi Rum, I wasn’t completely wowed by the camps where tourists can sleep in traditional Bedouin tents (on less-than-traditional metal cots). But a trip by Jeep to an unoccupied stretch of desert to see the sun set behind the dunes left me speechless, and I wasn’t the only one.
As I dropped my camera to just take in the ruddy colours of the landscape and the silence that enveloped it, I realized that the dozen or so other people in my group had gone quiet. We were in such an otherworldly place that we had to take a few moments just to appreciate it — photos would never do it justice.
But Jordan had more surprises in store. A long and bumpy dirt road took us to the Feynan Ecolodge, a comfortable hotel in the middle of a protected biosphere that has almost no electricity; the little there is is solar-generated, and rooms and hallways are lit by candles. (By some miracle of modern technology, though, it does have Internet ser- vice.) Many Bedouin families live in tents nearby, and I shared my morning yogurt with a herd of goats being prodded along by an elderly man in a long white dishdashah.
I also didn’t expect to find hot springs in a desert country. But south of Amman near the Dead Sea, the Evason Ma’In Hot Springs was a welcome antidote to the sand that seemed to have worked its way into every crevice. And from Amman in the north to Aqaba in the south, I was amazed by the bounty of food on offer in this country where so little land is arable. You could fill up just on the mezze (salads, appetizers and dips) that started every meal — falafel, tabbouleh, fattoush (vegetable and bread salad), fuul (fava bean dip), labneh (thick yogurt) and the silkiest hummus I’ve ever had. But just when you’d decided that you couldn’t eat another thing, heaping plates of roast lamb and chicken would appear.
What I recall most vividly were that the people were so obviously pleased to see visitors in their midst — tourism has taken a huge hit in the past few years. From the man in Aqaba’s market who insisted our group of obviously western tourists crowd into his tiny shop to drink sage tea, to the restaurant owners who scurried to put food on the table practically before we sat down, you could tell they hoped we were the harbingers of more prosperous times ahead.
Even with everything that most tourists are looking for — culture and history, great food and hospitality — Jordan is a victim of its geography. I wonder how many would-be visitors heeded the people who told them “don’t go” just because it’s in the Middle East.
My trip was a lesson to me to put preconceptions aside, dig a little deeper and ask for input only from people who know something about your destination. I wouldn’t want blind prejudice and unjustified fear to make me miss another place like Jordan.
From Amman in the north to Aqaba in the south, I was amazed by the bounty of food on offer in a country with so little arable land