Great article. About 20 yrs ago, my guide said I hope Jordan will be like a second home to you! So maybe it's something they are told to say but it had a similar warming effect on me.
Jordan was the first country in the Middle East I visited. Visited the Roman ruins at Jerash and Umm Qais, it was spring and the ruins were carpeted with beautiful windflowers everywhere, almost as glorious as an Alpine meadow. Then I went south to Madaba and on to Petra. I remembered the little van driving us down to Petra along the King's Highway and reading about the little towns we passed in the guidebook and how such and such place was once the capital of this or that little kingdom/empire in the Bible and I marveled at how absolutely nothing had survived from antiquity in those towns, and yet you were made conscious of how ancient the land is.
Then, finally, Petra! I spent four full days at Petra. What a sight! The walk through the siq is spectacular and I went on long hikes all around the canyons and saw the ruins from wonderful vantage points. Nothing else in the world is quite like Petra. It is a place of fantasy and imagination, but yet very real.
As for the Dead Sea, my singular memory of it is that the water is incredibly salty so if you don't lather yourself thickly with mud, you will feel like you've been set afire, with the salt pouring into every little orifice and cuts and scrapes known and unknown on your body.
Just think how much better the world be if the Hashemites kept the Hejaz.
Most who like history have heard of the Yalta Conference, which some see as setting the stage for the Cold War. Far fewer have heard of the meeting that FDR went to immediately afterwards on Bitter Lake (which although not covered by the newsreels was just as significant in many ways):
A belated note of appreciation for this evocative travel essay. I was in Jordan seven years ago - also a period when tourism was down, then as a result of the Syrian war and nasty ISIS activity. I remember an idyllic afternoon in the little northern castle town of Ajloun, where I was treated to beer and shisha by a bunch of local Christians and then invited by a Muslim family to join their barbecue. Afterwards I walked back to my hotel through the olive groves, in the peace of a windless dusk, and thought of the same sun setting calmly over Syria, just twenty-five miles away.
If you ever have occasion to return, the most extraordinary sight I saw in Jordan (after Petra, I guess - but in a sense it's even more of a miracle) was Qusayr Amra, which looks from the outside like an insignificant little building, sitting in the desert east of Amman. It was the caliph's personal bathhouse, and the interior contains the only surviving figurative frescoes from the earliest period of Islam. They were quite amazing: scenes of bathing, hunting, and everyday pastimes and professions; the three ages of man; the first surviving depiction of the zodiac on a spherical surface; and all done with an extraordinary profane sensuality. A mere five years after they were painted, an edict came down from Damascus confirming that figurative art was haraam; but perhaps due to the remoteness of the location, these were overlooked and have survived 1300 years. I went home devoutly hoping that borders and the Jordanian army can keep them safe from the iconoclasts of today.
Lots of pleasant memories on reading this. I lived with an Arab family for quite some time, long before tourism had really got going. Not everything was pleasant of course - only a few years earlier local young women had been attacked for ‘sunbathing’ on their family’s roof; a relative had beaten his wife severely when he discovered the contraceptive pills she had carefully hidden after providing him with numerous children; - foreigners were still an unfamiliar sight outside Amman, and a friend and her husband had their car almost forced off the road by belligerent Jordanians who only saw a white woman being driven by an Arab man. When her husband got out of the car to confront them they then realised he was a high ranking officer in the Jordanian army and their terror was palpable. You didn’t mess with the army. The prejudice white women faced was based on a firm belief that we were all immoral whores of course! When catching a ‘service’ car the driver would ask that you sit with him in the front - if you were in the back seat no passenger would get in and sit next to you. They’d rather wait for the next service car, so he’d lose fares. Nevertheless I loved the people, their generosity and hospitality. When lost on a walk round Amman my fluent friend asked for directions, the lovely man led us to right where we needed to be…but asked that we follow him from a distance. She explained that he wanted to make sure we were safe but couldn’t be seen fraternising with white women. Strange days in a beautiful country.
Wonderful article. And I'm beginning to wonder if the only way to find the world wondrous is to see it through the rose-tinted sunglasses of a tourist. 'Reality has to be dressed from the wardrobe of our imagination' and all that. With familiarity and a clear-eyed gaze, pretty much everywhere and everything has all the magic and romance of Basingstoke.
At the same time, your description of the Jordanians' fondness for children and respect for the elderly struck a chord. I'm sure that through their eyes we must look rather cold and lacking in human warmth. A bit like androids. Whether this is due to modern life or the northern European soul, I don't know.
About a year ago I looked up Circassians on Google images. They looked a very attractive and romantic tribe. That cross between Asian and European is often physically stunning, especially in the women. Yet strip them of their ceremonial costumes and dress them instead in hoodies and sweatpants, feed them a diet of burger and chips and plonk them down in Northampton and let's see if their magic survives. I sometimes wonder if any beauty can survive contact with the modern west.
Mahmoud, a 28-year-old driver from Jordan, lay in his tent fidgeting with his pack of counterfeit cigarettes as he used a camp stove to heat up the water for his morning coffee and thought about how he ended up living on the streets of Dublin.
Up until late last year, he lived a stable but unglamorous life in his home town of Amman with his wife. But things reached boiling point once she found out he had been adulterous and his brothers-in-law embarked on a campaign to make their sister a widow.
“I could’ve been killed. I had a relationship with a married woman and then my wife found out and her family found out and then her brothers wanted to kill me,” he said.
Nice Middle Eastern countries can survive, if there is no conflict between Sunnis and Shiites within them and if the West does not impose its human rights agenda to prevent the rulers from killing the jihadists and terrorists.
On the news last night there was a report about asylum seekers going from Britain to Ireland. They interviewed one guy who was Jordanian. I did wonder on what grounds he was claiming asylum.
What a beautiful article, thanks so much
Great article. About 20 yrs ago, my guide said I hope Jordan will be like a second home to you! So maybe it's something they are told to say but it had a similar warming effect on me.
thank you. yes maybe its a local phrase
Jordan was the first country in the Middle East I visited. Visited the Roman ruins at Jerash and Umm Qais, it was spring and the ruins were carpeted with beautiful windflowers everywhere, almost as glorious as an Alpine meadow. Then I went south to Madaba and on to Petra. I remembered the little van driving us down to Petra along the King's Highway and reading about the little towns we passed in the guidebook and how such and such place was once the capital of this or that little kingdom/empire in the Bible and I marveled at how absolutely nothing had survived from antiquity in those towns, and yet you were made conscious of how ancient the land is.
Then, finally, Petra! I spent four full days at Petra. What a sight! The walk through the siq is spectacular and I went on long hikes all around the canyons and saw the ruins from wonderful vantage points. Nothing else in the world is quite like Petra. It is a place of fantasy and imagination, but yet very real.
As for the Dead Sea, my singular memory of it is that the water is incredibly salty so if you don't lather yourself thickly with mud, you will feel like you've been set afire, with the salt pouring into every little orifice and cuts and scrapes known and unknown on your body.
Just think how much better the world be if the Hashemites kept the Hejaz.
Most who like history have heard of the Yalta Conference, which some see as setting the stage for the Cold War. Far fewer have heard of the meeting that FDR went to immediately afterwards on Bitter Lake (which although not covered by the newsreels was just as significant in many ways):
https://www.politico.com/story/2019/02/14/this-day-in-politics-feb-14-1945-1164052
A belated note of appreciation for this evocative travel essay. I was in Jordan seven years ago - also a period when tourism was down, then as a result of the Syrian war and nasty ISIS activity. I remember an idyllic afternoon in the little northern castle town of Ajloun, where I was treated to beer and shisha by a bunch of local Christians and then invited by a Muslim family to join their barbecue. Afterwards I walked back to my hotel through the olive groves, in the peace of a windless dusk, and thought of the same sun setting calmly over Syria, just twenty-five miles away.
If you ever have occasion to return, the most extraordinary sight I saw in Jordan (after Petra, I guess - but in a sense it's even more of a miracle) was Qusayr Amra, which looks from the outside like an insignificant little building, sitting in the desert east of Amman. It was the caliph's personal bathhouse, and the interior contains the only surviving figurative frescoes from the earliest period of Islam. They were quite amazing: scenes of bathing, hunting, and everyday pastimes and professions; the three ages of man; the first surviving depiction of the zodiac on a spherical surface; and all done with an extraordinary profane sensuality. A mere five years after they were painted, an edict came down from Damascus confirming that figurative art was haraam; but perhaps due to the remoteness of the location, these were overlooked and have survived 1300 years. I went home devoutly hoping that borders and the Jordanian army can keep them safe from the iconoclasts of today.
More genuine insight into the region than most of what I've seen. Thank you so much.
Lots of pleasant memories on reading this. I lived with an Arab family for quite some time, long before tourism had really got going. Not everything was pleasant of course - only a few years earlier local young women had been attacked for ‘sunbathing’ on their family’s roof; a relative had beaten his wife severely when he discovered the contraceptive pills she had carefully hidden after providing him with numerous children; - foreigners were still an unfamiliar sight outside Amman, and a friend and her husband had their car almost forced off the road by belligerent Jordanians who only saw a white woman being driven by an Arab man. When her husband got out of the car to confront them they then realised he was a high ranking officer in the Jordanian army and their terror was palpable. You didn’t mess with the army. The prejudice white women faced was based on a firm belief that we were all immoral whores of course! When catching a ‘service’ car the driver would ask that you sit with him in the front - if you were in the back seat no passenger would get in and sit next to you. They’d rather wait for the next service car, so he’d lose fares. Nevertheless I loved the people, their generosity and hospitality. When lost on a walk round Amman my fluent friend asked for directions, the lovely man led us to right where we needed to be…but asked that we follow him from a distance. She explained that he wanted to make sure we were safe but couldn’t be seen fraternising with white women. Strange days in a beautiful country.
Wonderful article. And I'm beginning to wonder if the only way to find the world wondrous is to see it through the rose-tinted sunglasses of a tourist. 'Reality has to be dressed from the wardrobe of our imagination' and all that. With familiarity and a clear-eyed gaze, pretty much everywhere and everything has all the magic and romance of Basingstoke.
At the same time, your description of the Jordanians' fondness for children and respect for the elderly struck a chord. I'm sure that through their eyes we must look rather cold and lacking in human warmth. A bit like androids. Whether this is due to modern life or the northern European soul, I don't know.
About a year ago I looked up Circassians on Google images. They looked a very attractive and romantic tribe. That cross between Asian and European is often physically stunning, especially in the women. Yet strip them of their ceremonial costumes and dress them instead in hoodies and sweatpants, feed them a diet of burger and chips and plonk them down in Northampton and let's see if their magic survives. I sometimes wonder if any beauty can survive contact with the modern west.
Beautiful, thanks
One country I absolutely want to see. Thanks for the write-up.
I only just read about the Jordanian who was fleeing to Ireland
https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/i-came-to-dublin-because-im-scared-of-rwanda-migrants-flee-uk-tvzh630bw
Mahmoud, a 28-year-old driver from Jordan, lay in his tent fidgeting with his pack of counterfeit cigarettes as he used a camp stove to heat up the water for his morning coffee and thought about how he ended up living on the streets of Dublin.
Up until late last year, he lived a stable but unglamorous life in his home town of Amman with his wife. But things reached boiling point once she found out he had been adulterous and his brothers-in-law embarked on a campaign to make their sister a widow.
“I could’ve been killed. I had a relationship with a married woman and then my wife found out and her family found out and then her brothers wanted to kill me,” he said.
Wonderful. Heart-warming.
Let's hope and pray plucky little Jordan survives and prospers, despite drought and any other threats.
thank you, and yes let's hope.
Nice Middle Eastern countries can survive, if there is no conflict between Sunnis and Shiites within them and if the West does not impose its human rights agenda to prevent the rulers from killing the jihadists and terrorists.
There is also the issue that State Department aid is often linked to promises to democratise, which at the moment might not be a very good idea.
Lovely article. Thank you.
thank you!
great read - brought back fond memories of being there!
Thank you!
On the news last night there was a report about asylum seekers going from Britain to Ireland. They interviewed one guy who was Jordanian. I did wonder on what grounds he was claiming asylum.
Abu Qatada was persecuted by the Jordanian authorities, just because he was a violent jihadi who wanted to bring about a bloodthirsty caliphate. Sad!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abu_Qatada_al-Filistini
And defended in print by an upper class Guardian writer. Many such cases!