Jenny

Petra by Day, Part II

Very Brief History of Petra

There’s too much history related to Petra to even begin to do it justice so I’ll paraphrase thousands of years of history into one short snippet. Petra is located in the southern part of Jordan, in the midst of the Shara mountains. Due to the impenetrable towering barriers of rock, it’s not surprising that it wasn’t discovered sooner. (In 1812, a Swiss explorer entered the Siq in heavy disguise in the company of a local guide).

The Nabateans are the people who settled Petra, originally known for raiding caravans that passed through on the valley floors but eventually changing tactics by offering safe passage and a place to do business for merchants. Petra’s golden age was in the first century BC and AD. The Roman author Strabo describes Petra as a “wealthy, cosmopolitan city, full of fine buildings and villas, gardens and watercourses, with Romans and other foreigners thronging the streets, and a democratic king.” Despite Petra’s wealth and power, the discovery of the monsoon winds began to cause a shift in trade patterns. Overland routes from Arabia were being abandoned in favor of transport by sea, leaving Petra hard hit. Additionally, Rome was sponsoring the diversion of inland trade away from Petra and directing it into Egypt and Syria. Eventually, Petra fell into Roman hands and became a principle center of the new Provincia Arabia. Christianity was adopted as the official religion of the empire in 324, but for many decades the Nabateans mingled elements of the new faith with remnants of their own pagan heritage. There was a massive earthquake in Petra in 363, leveling half of it. By the time of the Islamic invasion during the seventh century, Petra was more or less deserted. In 747, another earthquake hit, possibly forcing the remaining stragglers to leave.

The Bdul tribe has been occupying Petra’s caves for as long as anyone can remember. In the early 1980s, the Bdul tribe was offered (more like forced) to move out to a settlement offering the prospect of electricity, running water, health care, and better education. The Bdul eventually departed, but their caves are still visible throughout the landscape.

Petra by Day

Petra by Night left me excited to venture into the park by day. It was even better by day and the natural beauty of the landscape and grandeur of the structures leaves you in awe of the ingenuity of mankind. One day is certainly not enough time for exploring in any thorough fashion. We plan on returning, hopefully soon, to go beyond the four hours that we alloted ourselves before turning back. Rather than walking you through the pictures, I’ll post them below in a gallery. The pictures do more justice of the site than my words can convey.

And breaking from the usual historical commentary, I’ve decided to include some personal highlights, the kind that aren’t fit for printing anywhere other than my blog. You may need these quips if you’re ever in this part of the world.

Personal Highlights Not Fit for a Guidebook:

There are cats and kitties EVERYWHERE and they are extremely friendly. If you are a cat lover, you are in HEAVEN. If you mildly like cats (as I do), then you’ll be happy too because they want affection.
Lots of dogs live in Petra too. They live a sadder life than the cats. They are super skinny, still friendly, but you’ll feel sad for them because you can see ALL of their ribs (and one was limping too).
Donkeys, camels and horses rule to roads here. What I liked reading in the guidebook was that if you see any cruelty going on with the animals, you can report it to a ranger. I didn’t see any rangers and they’d probably laugh at me or pretend to make a report, but making a note of this, I vigilantly watched for ANY animal cruelty, ready to report.
I asked Raj if there were bathrooms in the park. He said no (he’s only been there once without me) and so I went before we entered. Something I really dislike here are the unofficial bathroom attendants. Yeah, I know, it’s very sad that women have to make a living this way, but I hate having to tip a woman for sitting in the corner of the bathroom who supposedly keeps the place clean. After an hour of walking, I was desperate–despite using the facilities before we walked in. Replaying what Raj had said about there not being any bathrooms inside, I got VERY excited when I saw a port-a-potty. I went in and was disgusted by the liquid you know what on the seat…AND there was an ATTENDANT outside who I gave money to. I’m not sure why because I can tell you she wasn’t keeping anything clean. Just so you know, I found two more bathrooms further down the path–of the REAL kind (not port-a-potties), that were decent, with running water (ok, not a flushing toilet). These too had attendants.
Children here are charlatans. And they are EVERYWHERE selling EVERYTHING imaginable. Alright, this falls into the sad category too and had my sister been here, she would have left the park with cats, kittens, curs and hundreds of ugly necklaces and postcards from the throngs of children shilling their wares (she might have taken the children too). My favorite tactic was from a tenacious tween named Aiysha. She approached us while we were viewing the theater. She came up to us speaking perfect English, asked where we were from and if we wanted to buy any of her “beautiful necklaces.” We both quickly said, “No, thanks.” She told Raj, “Buy one for your beautiful wife.” Raj said, “No, thanks,” again. Didn’t work. She sidled up to me and handed Raj a necklace, “For your wife.” Raj said, “No,” again firmly and she said, “For free because I like your wife.” The handing of the necklace went back and forth about six times until we were forced to walk away. Alright, I know, I felt really sad. She mentioned that she “wanted to start her own business…” Didn’t work on Raj. As we were walking away, she asked Raj, “On the way back, for only 1 JD?” Raj said, “On the way back.” “You promise,” she shouted back. “Yes!” I was dreading the way back and rightly so. On the return, she immediately spotted us, running up to Raj. Before she had a chance to plea he said, “$1 JD for the necklace.” “No, $2 JD,” she responded, changing the agreed upon price. Oh, no. Raj did not like this sweet siq urchin switching her prices! To get her back for “lying” about the price for the necklace I didn’t even want, he said, “No! Give me 2 necklaces for $1 JD.” (“On principle, he told me.) Good God, I thought. He’s trying to rip her off now and she wants to start her own business! We didn’t buy any necklaces from her. Raj’s feeling were hurt because she lied to him. She was hurt because she didn’t sell anything. I was happy that I didn’t have the necklace that would have reminded me how sad the situation was.
People watching is at a premium here. I liked seeing all of the people dressed up in dresses, some in heels, lots of purses, for the trail walking. I’m not sure where they thought they were headed, but sand, dirt, and hiking do not go well with leather handbags and heels.
The locals have American colloquialism down. I can’t tell you how many of the vendors told us it was “Happy hour,” trying to sell us drinks (water, that is). The camel and donkey peddlers offered, “Air conditioned rides,” and “Lamborghini’s.” One camel guy made an offer of, “You want a @#$%ing camel ride?” I’m not sure if this was meant to be funny, mean, or if he didn’t know what he was saying. Lastly, on the way out of the park, I overheard a guide trying to hustle a woman into hiring a horses. She obviously didn’t like the prices quoted and said, “No thanks,” to which the guide said, “No money, no honey.” A few seconds later he added, “No chicken, no curry.” I’m not sure about the second one…but I love the locals’ command of the English language.

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Travels

Petra By Night, Part I

I FINALLY convinced Raj to take me to Petra. He’s been telling me for the past three months that it’s too hot and we’d go…later…With nothing to do and nowhere to go NOW, we finally made it happen this weekend.

Petra by Night

I was insistent that we go during the week because I really wanted to see “Petra by Night,” an after-dark guided excursion through the canyon (only offered three times a week, Monday, Wednesday & Thursday), lit only by candles (luminaries). Keep in mind, this is no “Lights of Liberty” tour where you have to wear headphones while emotive music is played to enhance your experience as you’re walking through historic sites, nor is it a pre-recorded, laser light extravaganza like the kind you see at the Mayan Pyramids in Mexico where a booming voice recounts the glories of the past while lasers and sound effects pollute the night sky. I found Petra by Night to be an amazing experience precisely for its lack of pomp and commercialism.

The gates open at 8:30 and you’re welcomed into the main gate. The walk takes about twenty minutes, mostly in silence if you’re lucky enough to be in the right company, which enhances the experience. It takes a little while for your eyes to adjust, but once they do, the night sky and the shadows flickering off the canyon walls are magical. When you finally reach the Treasury plaza (best known as the temple from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade), the facade of the Treasury is illuminated from hundreds of candles in the sand. A guide seats you, either onto carpet on the sand in front of the plaza, or on a bench along the canyon wall, and then everyone is served Bedouin tea. Once everyone is seated, a Bedouin musician sings a folk song, followed by a another one on a pipe, and then a little bit of history is recounted by a guide. The whole “show” lasts approximately 45 minutes, just the right amount of time without making it too long or too short. Guests are invited to linger a little longer, and then walk back out along the candle lit path, back to the entrance.

Baking, Cooking, Living in Amman

Pop-Quiz: How Do You Convert a Stick of Butter to Tablespoons?

Pop quiz of the day:

Background to the problem

You’re living in Jordan. You like to bake and are used to using unsalted sticks of butter like the one below. Notice anything different about the stick of butter? The size? The width? The package?

Say you want to make chocolate chip cookies for your STARVING and sweet-deprived husband. You need 10 tablespoons (or 1/2 cup of butter, plus 2 tablespoons). Normally, you’d use one stick of butter (equalling 8 tablespoons) and cut two additional tablespoons from another stick, right? You buy what look like ordinary sticks of unsalted butter at the grocery store, but…there’s always a but here….you open up the packaging and are puzzled. There ARE NO TICK MARKS on the packaging to indicate the measurement of butter. What do you do?

a. You get out a tablespoon and manually measure the butter (all 10 of them, what a waste of time and end up making a BIG mess–remember, you don’t have a dishwasher, either).

b. You make an estimate, knowing full well that you may have wasted PRECIOUS ingredients that are hard to come by here (chocolate chips) and are insanely expensive (pure vanilla extract–kept in the safe next to the salami).

c. You attempt to get resourceful and create your own measuring device.

d. You cry and get upset that your husband made you come here to the land of butter without measurement.

e. You _______________ (fill in the blank with your own response).

I’m sure there’s some logical explanation for how people here measure butter here, but I’m fresh out of ideas…

My answer?

Here’s my first attempt at creating my own measuring guide. It worked for the single-wide sticks, but threw me off on the BIG-DADDY, double-wide sticks.

The next conundrum: how to measure a double-wide stick of butter.

Luckily for me, my sister had forwarned me prior to moving (and based on her experiences cooking in Italy) that I’d need a scale for measuring ingredients. I bought the scale a while ago, threw it under a cabinet, never to be seen, until the butter threw me for a loop! As I was unpacking the scale I discovered, to my utter delight, a conversion booklet for all sorts of things. I flipped to the page titled “fats” and hit pay dirt. OMG! Hallelujah! Now I’m able to accurately measure my butter (along with other “fats” using the scale).

Problem solved, for me at least, so I suppose the real pop-quiz here is: How do Jordanian’s convert their sticks of butter into tablespoons?

Travels, Yoga

Jebel al-Qal’a, Citadel Hill in Amman

We finally made it to Citadel Hill! This was our second attempt (after getting horribly lost the last time) in one month. It was no easy feat either; we had to go through City Center, the flea market area, which was more happening than normal. I saw fake Louis Vuitton’s on the street too, if anyone’s interested.

Citadel Hill, or Jebel al-Qal’a has been a happening place since the Paleolithic Age (that’s 18,000 years in case you don’t know your ages–I had to look it up). When the Romans moved in, they cleared away previous civilizations by chucking stuff over the hills, leaving heaps of archaeological booty. The two main features of the Citadel include the Temple of Hercules and the Umayyad Palace.

Temple of Hercules

The Temple of Hercules was built around the same time as the Roman Theater (across the hill). Remember when that was? Didn’t you read my post? [It was built between 169 and 177 AD]. The columns were re-erected in 1993 and lead to the inner sanctum (a.k.a. the cella). Within the inner sanctum, there’s a patch of bare, exposed rock believed to be ‘sacred rock’ that formed the centerpiece of the 9th century BC Ammonite Temple of Milcom. The dedication to Hercules isn’t really known, but due to the large amount of coins with images of Hercules, they believe it’s all in his honor.

You can see how massive the columns are in relation to me.

Yoga Graffiti!

No trip to ruins would be complete without a few yoga graffiti poses to which I have to thank Raj, the photographer. Don’t think I’m the only obnoxious yogi who does this either! As it turns out, there was a guy traveling alone who asked us if we could take a few pictures of him meditating, which we gladly did. He’s a yoga instructor from Mexico.

Scorpion on the "sacred rock" of the Ammonite Temple

The Umayyad Palace

Beyond the Temple of Hercules are the ruins of a small Byzantine church, in front of which stands the Umayyad Palace. The palace was built over the remains of a pre-existing Byzantine building, which is why it’s in the shape of a cross. There’s a dome on top of the palace, which is rife with controversy as to whether or not it’s historically accurate or if there ever was a dome on top. The interior of the palace is massive, much more so than you would expect from the exterior. As you exit the palace on the other side, opposite the entrance, you walk through a colonnaded street that leads to what are believed to have been administrative offices.

There’s a museum up here as well that houses a collection of interesting artifacts found on the the site of Citadel Hill. I found these ‘pod’ shaped coffins to be the highlight of the collection. I’ve never seen anything like them. They’re constructed of pottery and remind me of the pods from the movie Cocoon. Remember that movie? It was horrible, but I think they stole the idea from these pods.

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Baking

Boredom Baking: Fat Free Banana Bread

I was desperate to cook something, anything yesterday, but I didn’t feel like going to the grocery store and I had only limited items in my larder. I had two rotting bananas sitting on the counter, so I thought I’d make banana bread, but when I looked for the rest of the ingredients, I was VERY limited. I didn’t have any yogurt (to replace the butter) and I only had egg beaters; no eggs. I could have gone to the store, but why bother? I’ll be going there this weekend anyway and it’s never pleasurable shopping, so I made do. I looked for recipes in my favorite go to baking cookbook, America’s Test Kitchen Family Baking Book, but didn’t have half the ingredients so I went online and searched for fat-free (euphemism for tasteless) banana bread. I found hundreds of really boring, flat recipes, so I synthesized a few and came up with this one. [Note: Since I didn’t want to use butter (remember, I’ve gained weight) and I had an apple in the refrigerator, I decided to make my own (sugar-free) applesauce. I peeled the apple, cut it up, and placed it in the microwave for one and a half minutes until it was soft enough to mash. I pulverized it with an immersion blender, which successfully mashed it up to the right consistency of applesauce. This was probably more work than would have been to go to the grocery store(or even than it was worth), but I have the luxury of time.]

Ingredients:

1 cup flour
1/3 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 cup sugar
1 1/4 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
2 egg whites
1 cup mashed banana
1/4 cup applesauce
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. vanilla
about 1/8 cup walnuts, coarsely chopped
about 1 tbl. semi-sweet chocolate chips

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray nonstick spray into one loaf pan, or two little one’s like I used. Place flours, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon and salt into a bowl. Whisk to blend. Place bananas, apple sauce, sugar, vanilla, and eggs in a separate bowl and mix until well combined. Gradually combine the dry ingredients into the wet, until well combined. Fill the pan loaf or the two mini pan loaves with mixture. Add a sprinkling of chopped walnuts and chocolate chips to the top of loaf or loaves. Bake approximately 50-55 minutes, until browned on top. Check for doneness by testing with a toothpick.

I thought the banana bread was great, but maybe that was because I was so proud of myself for being so resourceful. Raj wasn’t impressed. You be the judge.

Cooking

Anniversary Dinner In: Grilled Basil Chicken, Orzo Salad & Cocoa Cake

Today is our seventh wedding anniversary. Normally, we’d go out, exchange gifts, cards, go away for the weekend…but not this year. Dinner out during Ramadan means buffets for iftar, and I DO NOT DO buffets, especially on special occasions. So, to avoid the buffet bar, I’m cooking our meal tonight, which isn’t a problem, except for the ingredient thing that keeps getting in the way of good food. I searched through my paltry shelves of cookbooks last week, which prompted my previous post, and found a few things to make tonight that I’d normally not consider special:

Grilled Chicken with Basil Dressing
Orzo with Garbanzo Beans, Red Onion, Basil, and Mint
Rich Cocoa Cake

I went to Miles, the closest thing we have here to Balducci’s or Whole Foods, and bought most of the items off my list with the exception of sour cream (is it really that exotic?). I was able to find sour cream at another store and you would have thought that I bought gold! It was about $3 JD’s for an itty bitty little plastic container–the size of a container of sour cream that you get at Mexican restaurant. The only basil I could find was brown and spotty, but I bought it anyway to avoid having to go to another store this morning. When I looked at it this morning it was beyond repair and smelled terrible. As a result, I had to practically strip my sole living plant–a basil plant–of almost all of its leaves. There was no alternative though. The basil was rancid!

Here’s the recipe for the Chicken:

2/3 cup EVOO

3 tbl plus 1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

1 1/2 tsp. fennel seeds (lightly crushed)

1 1/3 tsp. salt

1 tsp. freshly ground pepper

6 boneless, skinless breast halves

1 cup lightly packed basil leaves

1 large garlic clove

1 tsp. grated lemon zest

In a resealable plastic bag, combine 1/3 cup of the oil. 3 tbl. of the lemon juice, the fennel seeds, 3/4 tsp. of the salt, and 1/2 tsp. of the pepper. Add the chicken and seal the bag. Massage the marinade into the chicken. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes and up to 24 hours, turning the chicken occasionally.

Meanwhile, in a blender, blend the basil, garlic, lemon zest, remaining 1/4 cup lemon juice, 3/4 tsp. salt, and 1/2 tsp. pepper until smooth. Gradually blend in the remaining 1/3 cup oil. Season with salt and pepper until smooth. Season the basil sauce to taste with more salt and pepper, if desired.

Prepare a grill for medium high heat (or a grill pan over medium high-heat). Grill the chicken until just cooked through, about 5 minutes per side. Transfer the chicken to a platter and drizzle with the basil sauce and serve.

The Pasta Salad:

4 cups water

1 1/2 cups orzo

1 (15 oz.) can garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed

1 1/2 cups mixed red and yellow teardrop tomatoes or grape tomatoes, halved

3/4 cup finely chopped red onion

1/2 cup chopped fresh basil

1/4 cup chopped fresh mint

3/4 cup red wine vinaigrette (below)

salt and pepper

Bring the water to a boil in a large, heavy sauce pan over high heat. Stir in the orzo. Cover partially and cook, stirring frequently, until the orzo is tender but still firm to the bite, about 7 minutes. Drain the orzo through a strainer. Transfer the orzo to a large, wide bowl and toss until the orzo cools slightly. Set aside to cool completely.

Toss the orzo with the beans, tomatoes, onion, basil, mint, and enough vinaigrette to coat; you may not need all 3/4 cup. Season the salad to taste with salt and pepper, and serve at room temperature.

For the vinaigrette:

1/2 cup red wine vinegar (* called red grape vinegar here–no drinking!!!)

1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

2 tsp. honey

2 tsp. salt

3/4 tsp. freshly ground black pepper

1 cup EVOO

Mix the vinegar, lemon juice, honey, salt, and pepper in a blender. With the machine running, gradually blend in the oil. Season with salt and pepper, if desired.

Rich Cocoa Cake:

1/2 cup cold water

2 tbl. (heaping) cocoa powder (I use Penzeys)

1 cup brown sugar

1 cup sugar

3 tbl. unsalted butter

2 eggs

1/2 tsp. salt

1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

1/2 cup sour cream

1/2 cup milk

1 tsp. baking soda

2 cups sifted flour

Icing:

1/3 cup unsalted butter, softened

1/3 cup cocoa powder

dash salt

6-8 cups powdered sugar (I only used about 3 cups)

1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

2-3 tbl. hot water

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Lightly grease two 8-inch cake pans and set aside (I used 4×2 cake pans and it made 4 little cakes. I froze two for a later date). In a small saucepan, mix together the cold water and cocoa powder. Heat over medium, stirring constantly, until the mixture starts to boil. Remove from heat and set aside to cool. The mix should be paste-like. In a large mixing bowl, cream together the sugars and butter. Add the eggs, salt and vanilla extract and mix well. Add the cocoa mixture and beat well. In a small bowl, mix together the sour cream, milk and baking soda. Gradually add the sour cream mix to the batter, alternating with the flour. Beat well after each addition. Pour into pans and bake at 350 degrees for 22-26 minutes. Use a toothpick to test or note that the cake is fully risen and pulling away from the sides of the pan. Remove from the oven and let cool for a few minutes. Remove from the pans and let cool thoroughly before icing.

For the icing, cream together the butter and cocoa powder until fluffy. Add the salt. Gradually add the powdered sugar, beating well. Add the vanilla extract and mix well. Add just enough water to reach your desired consistency.

The consistency of the batter is like caramel

: Aren’t these the cutest little cakes!

Baking, Cooking

Cooking & Living on a Deserted Island

I realized yesterday that I’ve been here now for TWO months (and only have 20 months left of my sentence, j/k) and have cooked only a handful of meals. Why? I’ve determined this is for three reasons:

Firstly, Raj severely limited the number of cookbooks (ANY books for that matter) that I could bring with me. He scared me into thinking that my books would fall off of a container and into the water, never to be seen again (where is the water he was speaking of?). Back in February when I was struggling with which books to bring, Raj asked, “How would you feel if your signed books were lost, or stolen, or fell off a ship?” (Note: most of my books and cookbooks are signed by the authors and have been collected over years and Raj was playing on my sentimentality.) Can you believe this logic worked on me? (What’s worse, this logic worked for just about every item in the house, which is why there’s so little sense of home here.) I remember thinking that this all sounded logical, as if book bandits would be searching though our containers for autographed Brian Selznick books or Julia Child’s cookbooks. He had me so concerned that I agreed to his mandate, which limited me to TWO boxes, which is NOTHING and I’m realizing that I’m not very fond of many, strike that, ANY of the cookbooks that I’ve brought. (I’m making a case to buy more cookbooks.)

Here are what the contents of two boxes of cookbooks look like on my sad and lonely bookshelves.

Secondly, I HATE grocery shopping here! The stores aren’t that far away, but with the few cookbooks that I have, I can’t find the ingredients that I’m looking for. Yeah, I know, the solution is to improvise, explore the local foods, but I don’t feel like it…not now anyway. Further complicating matters right now is that it’s Ramadan for the entire month of August. What does this have to do with anything? Well, since everyone fasts all day, they feast at night and pillage the grocery store shelves leaving little by way of stock.

Lastly, as I’ve complained all along, my kitchen is not functional. I was making pizza dough last weekend and plugged in my Kitchen Aid to the electrical circuit, which is an extension cord that goes up to the converter box (you know the 1970s contraption that I had to hide from my line of sight?). (FYI, in case you’re worried, pizza night has not suffered. It’s still going strongly, every Friday, despite the cooking downturn.) As I was adjusting the speed, I kept feeling a tingling sensation. It took me a few more adjustments to realize I was getting shocked. Now, in order to use ANY of the small appliances that I brought, I have to disconnect everything in order to plug one thing in at a time. You’re thinking ‘what’s the big deal,’ right? The big deal is that the plugs are ALL above the cabinets so that I don’t have to see them. The issue is that unplugging everything requires me to get out the step-ladder, adjust the cords, re-hide the cords after I’m finished…it’s too much work. Did I mention that I’ve gained weight since I’ve gotten here too? Another reason not to cook!!!

So what’s my point? Long story long, I have a question to pose:

If you were moving abroad and were told that you could only bring ONE cookbook with you, which cookbook would it be and why?

When answering this, don’t take into account any of my gripes. Assume you don’t know what type of kitchen you’ll be cooking in and you’re not sure what types of food are available. Just choose your favorite, most indispensable cookbook and tell me why it’s so wonderful. Let’s see how many of your suggestions I’ll be placing in my next Amazon shopping cart.

Prior to arriving, my go to book was this one:

I still love this book, just not here. Most of the ingredients of my favorite recipes are nowhere to be found.

Travels

Slot Canyon: Siq Trail in Wadi Mujib Nature Reserve

Raj and I decided to go hiking today, something most people wouldn’t do in 105 degree heat. Someone told Raj about this place and what an amazing time they had here. The problem is that Raj didn’t tell me what to expect, but I’m not sure he really knew, so I wasn’t dressed all that appropriately. As it turns out, we were hiking, but hiking and sometimes wading in fast-moving water though a slot canyon. [According to Wikipedia, a slot canyon, in case you don’t know, “is a narrow canyon, formed by the wear of water rushing through rock. A slot canyon is significantly deeper than it is wide.”]

We got to the Visitor Center, paid the reserve fees ($12 JD’s pp), and were told to take our hats, sunglasses, backpack, and valuables and to keep them in the car. Why? Hmm. I didn’t know what this was about. I was told by Raj that we’d be hiking and wore my favorite, well-worn, suede hiking shoes. One last thing the guy said to as on the way out, “grab a life vest.” We put the life vest on, walked down into the canyon and saw the trail. It wasn’t a trail but a shallow riverbed. It was too late to turn around so I plunged in, ruining my shoes. This better be worth it!

The trail led into the Mujib gorge, leading us between towering sandstone cliffs. Throughout the trail (river), there are mini falls and semi-technical climbs up and over the falls. After about an hour of traversing the river, you reach the base of a magnificent waterfall. We hung out here for a while and then turned around. On the way back, I chose a wrong foothold and got swept away by the fast-moving water, causing me to crash into a bunch of river rocks. It didn’t start hurting until halfway out and now my knee is swollen and I’m foreseeing being off of it for a few days. Great! I busted my knee and ruined my shoes.

Does the gorge look familiar? It was featured in the film, Indian Jones and the Last Crusade.

Despite my injury, I suppose it was well worth the effort of getting to the waterfall (the worth will be dependent on how fast my knee heals). It’s a shame we couldn’t take out camera, which isn’t waterproof, because the color and marbling striations of the sandstone cliffs was breathtaking.

Travels

Bethany-Beyond-the-Jordan: the Baptismal Site of Jesus

About thirty miles outside of Amman, heading towards the Dead Sea, along the east bank of the River Jordan, is the place where John the Baptist lived and where he most likely baptized Jesus Christ. This desolate plain (and HOT, 105 degrees F today) has historical significance for Judaism, Christianity and Islam. [For those of you who care, the first mention of this area is in the book of Genesis, when Lot separated from Abraham and “chose the plain of Jordan” to pitch his tents, after which Jacob wrestled with God a little way north at Penuel. A large part of the Book of Numbers is set at the Israelites’ camp, “pitched in the plains of Moab by Jordan opposite Jericho,” following which Moses delivers a long summation in Deuteronomy before going up “from the plains of Moab unto the mountain of Nebo” where he died (remember, we went there a few weeks ago?). Joshua led the tribes across the river, which miraculously halted its flow, an event mirrored centuries later in Kings 2, when the prophets Elijah and Elisha again stopped the flow of the river, as a chariot and horses of fire took Elijah up to heaven. It was because of the associations with Elijah that, a thousand years later, John, an ascetic holy man with a prophetic vision, took up residence here, using the numerous small springs branching off the river to symbolically cleanse people of sin; locals soon flocked to this John the Baptist.

When you arrive at the Visitors’ Center, you are picked up in a bus and driven to the site, about five minutes from the parking lot. A guide leads you along the path to a few different sites. The first site along the path brings you to a clearing marked by a modern pool and the sheltered remains of the 6th or 7th century Church of John the Baptist, situated alongside two or more churches, which were built on top of each other. You can see the floor of the lower one tiled in triangular, square and octagonal flags of marble. There are also Corinthian capitals lying nearby.

Under the Shelter or Remains of the Church of St. John the Baptist

After viewing the remains of the church, our guide gave us (I’d like to say ME) the VIP treatment. The rest of the tour went on ahead of us as he offered to take us “behind the scenes” (in this case underneath a rope) to stand on two of the most sacred spots (the first pictures is supposedly the spot where Jesus disrobed and the second is THE site of Jesus’ baptism).

Where Jesus disrobed before entering the water

After the behind the scenes tour, we met back up with the rest of the group–those unfortunate people who were not privy to our part of the tour–and headed to the bank of the river to cleanse away our sins.

The guide is telling me that they use this baptismal font for children

Braving the brackish water with tadpoles in it

Inside the church next to the river (new construction)

One of many mosaics on the floor in the church

The River Jordan used to be deep, fast-flowing, and often flooded the banks. ( FYI, in Aramaic, yardeen–from which Jordan is derived–means “fast-flowing water.”) Today, at the height of summer, the river is low. The tour lasted about an hour, which was about all we could take in the heat.

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Yoga

Yoga in Amman Versus Yoga in DC

Yoga in Amman is like everything else here–DIFFERENT, not bad, not good & EXPENSIVE (no values here!). Let me preface this comparison by acknowledging how THANKFUL I am to have found a place to go to practice yoga. I won’t call it a yoga studio, but a fitness club that offers classes twice a week. Here’s the shakedown of how yoga at home differs from yoga in Amman.

Yoga at Home in Old Town, Alexandria:

I could WALK to the studio from my house, a short jaunt down a quaint street of historical, perfectly manicured homes, with GRASS, lots of dogs, cute boutiques and plenty of people out enjoying their day, regardless of the weather.
I’m welcomed into a peaceful, serene space that smells like lavender or incense.
I’m surrounded by like-minded people in fashionable, enviable yoga clothing–very unyogi-like , I know (that make me want to go home and order more Lululemon).
The instructors are NICE and COMPLIMENTARY (and fit!).
The music is hip and cool (similar to my musical tastes).
People speak and smile to each other and the studio offers tea and cookies.
Laughing is encouraged and practiced.
Instructors encourage you to move at your own pace.
You feel great after class: calm and collected.
Although yoga is expensive, you don’t mind because you feel like it’s a value for the benefits you receive.

Yoga in Amman:

I have to drive to the place (not a big deal, but driving here is DANGEROUS).
There is no welcome. You enter, walk down a staircase into the inner sanctum of the gym that smells like a gym.
No one wears yoga clothes.
I was told and even asked to demonstrate how I do a pose the wrong way (Did I mention that I’m a certified yoga instructor? No one else has ever pointed out that I don’t do chair pose correctly. Shame on you former teachers of mine!) She told me that I’ve formed a bad “habit” and have to fix it.
There is NO music! No sound, just the instructor’s voice.
No smiling, no talking, no treats after class.
No laughing allowed. This is very serious business.
We all do the same pose, regardless of our level. Apparently, we are ALL beginners, plus there are long breaks in between the poses (we only did THREE, one of which was mountain pose).
We practice Iyengar style yoga. Need I say more? Iyengar is a form of yoga, which I’m sure is fabulous, but extremely strict about alignment. I prefer vinyasa-style yoga, active, energetic classes where you feel like you’ve gotten a workout. After class I asked the teacher if this was a beginner yoga class and she told me it was a “mixed level” class. We did THREE poses in one hour and fifteen minutes and used chairs as props. God help me. Breathe! I also asked if she ever teaches vinyasa classes. She said, “No, ALL teachers in Amman teach Iyengar.”
I paid more per class than I do in DC.I expect to pay a lot in the land of milk and honey–it’s a big city with lots of options. Here in Amman there are NO options and the price should reflect this.

There you have it. Yoga in Amman is NOT fun or even fulfilling. I came home and did some more. Perhaps someday I’ll even learn to do chair pose correctly. Inshallah. Namaste.