Two blogs for the price of one...

Blog 3

Mr. Hakel gets Jaras(ed)
(Too tired to edit properly, sorry.)
What a day. Awoke this morning to the news that one of our intrepid bunch had been taken to the hospital with Patty and Absalaam along as escorts. Sara is fine now, still kind of weak, but recovering from what was most likely a case of dehydration. It may not have been, because a few more of us did not feel well too. Zach was hurling pretty regularly until after we stopped at a clinic, which actually appeared to be a women’s clinic, by the way. Zach received what he described as a rather painful shot in the but-tocks. I had some dicey times myself, but my mild illness expressed itself in the opposite direction. ‘Nuff Said!
Three stops today, two of them worth your time. The first was Qasr Al Halabatt. It was a Roman construction. It was amazing. It sits upon a bleak, desolate hill overlooking Syria. This place was built as a fortress overlooking trade routes the Romans and others later wished to control. The two most amazing things at this site, and I really should figure out how to add pictures to this thing, shouldn’t I? Anyway, the first were the mosaic floors that were uncovered just two years ago. These were large floors with intricate designs. The tiles were no larger than a chicklet. The second was a sideroom that was described as a bedroom. It still had three complete arches crossing the span, and while I can tend to let my imagination run away from me, it was pretty easy to imagine/feel the presence….the history, the sounds, the voices that kind of thing…

The bedroom at Qasr Hallabat
The second stop is the second most famous ancient ruin in Jordan and that is Jaras. Jaras was a Roman city that I[m told here was second to Rome in size. It was simply amazing. A favorite moment…we are on a hillside above most the ruinsj when the afternoon call to worship began. Every mosque issues this call at basically the sametime. I could hear at least three different imams calling the faithful to prayer. The sounds were echoing all around me off the ruins of a great Roman city. Magical. I have an audio recording of it.
Another favorite moment…walking through the dark hallways at the top of the Southern theater and emerging into the reconstructed amphitheater high above the stage. Being the diva I am I, of course, went down to center stage and took a bow. Again, it was a moment of sharing experience with people who lived long, long ago.

Were I to try to do this site justice, I’d fail.
I leave you today with two other observations from the mini-bus window. First, I have seen poverty today. A number of little villages in the desert had families living in tents. The tents are large low-walled and normally black, which puzzles me a little. Even those not living in tents seem to be barely better off for the majority. I saw a number of houses only nominally larger than a jail cell. These are flat-topped, concrete slab structures. Some with windows, some not. Most have exposed rebar sticking out of their roofs. We were told that the reason for this was so that a second story could be added should the family be able to afford it at some point. Each village would normally have a couple of houses that did have a second story, but most not. The second floor would be added because of the need for space. Jordanian families stay close and the average housing unit will have many generations living there.
The last observation is this. Jordan is a monarchy. There is a constitution and a parliament meants in Amman, but the king has considerably more power in this country than say the Queen does in England. Jordan’s monarchy began only 62 years ago. Hence the legitimacy of the King’s claim to rule is somewhat suspect. The current King, Abdullah II is the son of Hussein and grandson of Abdullah I. What interested me today is the number of pictures of the King that I saw. Every government building, every single one, has an image of the King on it. These images seem to carry different messages in different places. In Amman we saw a smiling benevolent leader. In Al Azraq the images tended to be sterner. Not smiling, while wearing a military uniform. Even in our restaurant today there was a large stylized portrait that actually reminded me of the Obama campaign poster.

King Abdullah II the Nice Guy

King Abdullah II the stern
Mr. Hakel Goes to Dinner at Uncle Abdullah’s
It is several hours later and I honestly believe we just experienced the high point of our trip. Emjab’s Uncle Abdullah lives in Al Masra, which as it happens is near the nature preserve that we are staying in. Emjjab’s Uncle invited us all to have dinner with him. It was magical. Al Masra was described as a small village, but its population was given as 43,000. More than Bowling Green. We are in the mountains of the North, not far from the Jordan river and the West Bank. The village and his Uncle’s house is perched on the hillside. We arrived and the excitement of our host and his large extended family was obvious. We shook hands with the men, the women with the women and they exchanged a French style kiss on each cheek. Men do that with men here too, but we did not. Then we went to the back of their property where we watched the sun set, presumably over the West Bank. As we took pictures of the view and each other. Some of the neighbors who were all out of their houses looking at the newcomers took pictures of us. Then it was time to go sit. A corner of their house was a porch much like ours in the U.S. Thick cushions lined all the wall space and this was the sum of the furniture. We removed our shoes and sat on the porch and were served a wonderful meal. The main dish was masra, which has repeatedly been described as the national dish of Jordan. In this part of the country masra is made with boiled chicken. The chicken sits on a huge mound of rice. Roasted almonds were liberally strewn over everything. Finally, a yogurt sauce was poured over all of that. Four huge platters, I mean gigantic were served to our group. Jordanians would normally gather around this bowl and scoop the food with the fingers of their right hand. In deference to our customs we were given bowls and spoons. While we accepted the bowls most of us forsook the spoon and dug in. After trying to do this daintily for awhile I gave in and did it the way I saw Emjab doing and scooped a large portion of rice into my four fingers and sliding it in. It was mess y, but kind of fun. It was delicious, particularly the roasted almonds. I couldn’t get enough of those. This was served with stuffed grape leaves, which I really didn’t think I’d like, but ate 7 of and something I’d never heard of. Zucchini stuffed with rice in tomato sauce. The zucchini was amazing because it had been hollowed out almost completely. Then they were stuffed with white rice. Very tasty.


Desert came in between waves of Arabic coffee which is flavored with cardamom and with a stomach settling tea. Desert was cake for Jill’s birthday.
Abdullah was encouraged to tell several stories of his youth and farming experiences that Emjab translated. Jill, Dani and Emily went with the women, none of whom ate with us, but Emjab’s aunt did sit with us. A lot of laughing could be heard coming from the women’s room as they had the girls try on their outfits and so forth.
Their were a number of children in the house. The oldest girls who wer around 12 never did come out into the public room. I inadvertently saw one of them without her head covered as she went from one room to another. When she returned she picked up the youngest child, Yusef, who is absolutely adorable, and covered her head with him as she walked by.
At the end of the evening, about three hours all told, we took a group picture of all of us. There generosity and hospitality was very touching. To be honest, it brought tears to my eyes on a couple occasions. We were asked to spend the night, as they waited for an answer, I managed to look sleepy and say, “I soon will be.” Which got a big laugh. Bruce came up with a better answer. “Your home is Jordan and tonight we sleep there.”
We are driving back to the tents on the reserve right now. The bus is full of happy sounds.
By the way, Zach is back and Sarah has improved greatly, but is still on the warn out side.
This is a land of great beauty. This is a land of great troubles. This is a land full of people like Emjab and his Uncle Abdullah. My understanding of Arab culture has been changed forever. I hope yours has too, if it hasn’t I haven’t been able to tell you enough about our evening.
Salaam,
Dad/Lane/Mr. Hakel