Count Your Blessings...

It is our last day in Jordan and we head back to Amman. The time we have spent in this wonderful country has exceeded every expectation I had. From the splendour of Petra and the Dead Sea to the adventure of climbing high above Petra looking down on the towering Treasury, our camel caravan through Petra, or the stillness of sunrise in the desert.

 The people of Jordan have been unanimously open, welcoming, friendly, warm. Jordan is country that opens its doors to people escaping persecution and terrorism. It is estimated that over 1.4 million refugees are now seeking asylum in Jordan. 

On this, our last day, we have been invited for lunch to the home of one such refugee family. The family does not live in a refugee camp, they rent a simple flat in an old, crumbling building in Amman. Here we are hosted by the family of Salaam and Tamara. The family includes their two children, Tamara's parents, her sister, brother-in-law and their small child, and her brother. This family all lives and sleeps in a small apartment with the most basic of services. The bathroom is old, the enamel surface has long since worn off the tub and toilet. They sleep on mats and cots. But they have worked hard to make it their new home, welcoming and warm despite the crumbling stone of the walls.

We are greeted with warm handshakes and hugs and ushered into their living room where we gather round two old, scarred coffee tables. I notice the Christian religious icons on the walls... the pictures and statues of Mary and the Holy Family. The crucifix a staple on the wall, like my mother's house. They wear their Christian faith proudly... which has been the source of their peril.

Salaam has been working with us for the last week, acting as an assistant and interpreter for our group. We have come to know him as a friend, and he is happy to have us meet his family.  He tells us their story...

The family lived a good life in Iraq. But they were Christians in a predominantly Muslim country. Tamara's father was a barber with his own business. Tamara and her sister and brother attended school. 

Eventually Tamara would marry Salaam. They began their life where Salaam attended and completed university, got a good job, a home, a car, a life...

But in 2014 ISIS took over a town just 5 minutes from where Tamara's family lived. Christians were told to convert, pay tax, leave or die. They lost everything... their homes, their businesses. Christians were targeted because they are a peaceful religion not based on revenge. They are taught to turn the other cheek, to forgive. This made them an easy target.  

The family had to flee. They knew that survival meant converting to Islam (not an option) or fleeing. Jordan was their destination.

But the story does not end there. Once in Jordan, as asylum seekers, they were safe from persecution but could not start a new life. Asylum seekers are not immigrants of that country, they are there temporarily until they are accepted as refugees into another country. As Christians those countries are Canada, Australia, France. The US does not welcome refugees unless they are highly demanded professions like doctors. And most refugee programs now favour the Syrian refugees, the Christian refugees are forgotten. Yet they are educated, fluent in English, could easily assimilate into our country and our culture.

It has been 3 years now. 3 years living in limbo. They are not allowed to work in Jordan, their is no healthcare, no social programs. They do odd jobs under the table to make enough money to get by. And they continue to hope, going through every hoop that is put in their way, longing for the day they will again have a real home.

A genuine feast proceeds. Platter after platter of their traditional Iraqi and Middle Eastern foods... biryani made with rice with chicken and vegetables, pasta with a fresh tomato sauce and tiny little meatballs, stuffed eggplant, and the specialty - tepsi. Everything is fresh, warm and steeped with the exotic Middle Eastern spices. The little tables are laden and the fragrant flavours fill the air.

As I lie in bed later that night, I try to envision what that would be like. What if I, and my family - children, grandchildren- had to flee, leaving everything we had worked so hard for behind. Would we be as brave, as humble, as hopeful?  I can only hope I never have to find out. 

I read posts on facebook routinely, saying things like... send them back to their own country, they are not our problem, they do not belong here... but where do they belong? 

I do not usually introduce political messaging into my posts but this has stuck with me and it was a part of the country and the culture and the experience.  

On a more pleasant note.... it is our last evening in Amman and Joe takes us out to one of his favorite restaurants for a farewell dinner.

One more bus ride... I have to admit I was not looking forward to that, but it was well worth it.

Kam Zamaan was once a village outside of Amman. Kam Zamaan is Arabic for "once upon a time" and is fitting name for this place. It was a 19th century Ottoman rural farm consisting of agriculture warehouse (we would call granary) and a stable or barn. The walls are thick stone, ageless. It fell to ruin as the rural people migrated to the city for jobs and the more modern way of life. 

The visionary restoration has kept the stately timeless structures, adapting them into a stunning restaurant complex incorporating the past with the present on perfect blaance, offering unique Oriental and local cuisine.

The complex includes three venues: the stables have been transformed into an elegant dining room. Huge iron chandeliers grace the natural domed ceilings over sturdy wooden dining tables.

The garden is now a stunning breezy patio and the warehouse hosts the Bread and Salt Bakery offering fresh baking and homemade preserves.

Bring on the wine... it has been an exhausting, and pretty dry, week and we look forward to relaxing with a couple of glasses of good wine. 

The food begins to come... a seemingly endless stream of tantalizing specialties, all flavorful and delicious. Piping hot, rounds of pita bread fresh from the massive stone oven arrive, the aroma intoxicating. 

We relax, we visit, we mingle. We exchange email addresses. contact information. We promise to stay in touch, hopeful our paths and journeys will overlap again. 

We bid our god-byes and get ready to depart our separate ways.   It has been an amazing journey, one I will not soon forget.

Thank you for Coming With Me and sharing my adventures. Until next time..... 

Channelling our inner Lawrence of Arabia... in the desert sands.

Wadi Rum Desert, Jordan.

We are nearing the end of our journey as we head into the desert of Wadi Rum. (Wadi meaning Valley and Rum meaning of high peaks).

From bus to jeep to desert camp, we arrive at Rahayeb Desert Camp.

 

 The camp consists of rows of Bedouin style tents, structures covered with woven blankets and tarp-like roofs.

There is a central dining tent and fire pit area.

Inside each tent is a king size bed and a smaller cot, a rough bathroom with shower, sink and toilet. Power is provided from 7:30 am to 10:30 pm by way of solar power.... no shortage of sun here.

It is mid afternoon when we head out for four hour jeep exploration (well more like in the back of very dated half ton trucks) and sunset in the desert.

The desert is vast, it is fairly windy and clouds roll in with the occasion drizzle. This is actually not a bad thing as it cooled down the scorching heat.

All around red rock outcroppings tower like desert castles and rolling dunes of fine red sand soften the landscape.

 Wadi Rum has been inhabited since prehistoric times, once a hunting and meeting point with vineyards and olive trees. Now it is home to nomadic Bedouin people with their crude shelters pitched in the shelter of the red rocks.

This is where Lawrence of Arabia rode across the desert on camel with the Arab warriors during the Arab revolt of 1917, creating the romantic hero of The Seven Pillars of Wisdom.

Sand ripples across the open desert and creates deep dunes as it blows against the rocky cliffs. I notice my footprints in the sand... there one minute, swept away the next.

 We encounter a towering bridge of rock and notice people way up atop the ledge.

Of course we are fascinated. HOw did they get up there? We decide we have to try it too. A handful of us daring souls bravely join the other tourists who want to make it to the top. This time we are slightly more mindful that we will also have to make the climb down.

 There are indentations and footholds for the climb up, narrow ledges to inch along, and at the top a narrow chasm to climb.

The view is worth the climb as we scurry to the top and stand victorious on the bridge of rock.

Watching those ahead of us, we determine the best way down the steep smooth rocky embankment is to scoot down in a crab-walk from foot hold to foot hold.  

Once down we load back into the trucks and continue.

As the sky begins to fade and the sun starts to sink low, we head to our vantage point for sunset.

Once again we are challenged by a cloudy sky that obscures the sunset. But, we encounter a camel caravan and spent the time photographing the camels against the dusky sky.

Back to camp and a dinner of chicken and lamb roasted in a pit in the ground. We visit around the camp fire and make it an early night because we will rise at 5 am for sunrise.

You would expect a night in the desert far away from civilization to be peacefully, serenely quiet. But the wind whips the tent covering and dogs bark as I drift off to sleep.

5 am dawns early. The moon hangs over the cliffs of rock as we climb aboard our camel caravan. 

The camels are tethered at the gate and we are directed to our camels, and carefully mount as they are sitting on the ground, resplendent in the colorful arab blankets.

Joe goes first onto one of the largest of the camels.             

He is barely on as the camel decides to rise up, not waiting for the driver. Only problem, the camel is still tethered. He gets half way up and can not go any further, lurching back down. Their front legs are tied so they do not wander and he is unable to rise. He pitches Joe forward and back as he tries to get up, then back down. The driver hurriedly unties the camel and all is fine.

We begin our caravan into the early morning desert as the sky begins to brighten.

Once again, the clouds hide the colors of the sunrise but the early morning quiet across the desert sands is a wonderful way to start a day. 

How about that sunrise!!! became our joke of the day. But it wasn't about the anticipated colors of sunrise it was about the peaceful dawning of our last day together in Jordan.

Come With Me as we head back to Amman for one last day in Jordan.

 

Petra by Night.

Petra by Night.

Despite the long day at Petra and the fact we have already hiked in and out once today, we return to Petra to experience the magical lost city by candlelight.

The Siq is lit only by candlelight as we trek back into Petra.

 We arrive to see the crowds have already gathered. People site cross-legged on the sandy crowd amid glowing candles.

Camera and tripod in hand we make our way through the crowds to find a vantage spot on the perimeter where we can set up, capture the spectacle and not obscure someone else's view.  15 sec shutter speed, f11, ISO 400, I repeat Joe's instructions in my head so as not to forget the settings I should be using.

The magnificent façade of the Treasury glows in the candlelight.

As we practise our settings, experimenting with just the right shutter speed and settings a local Bedouin poet rises to recite a monologue about the place and the land. Then he signals and the flood lights glow on the façade, the colors changing from rose to green to purple. 

 As the festivities wind down, we make our way back out the candlelit Siq, exhausted. It has been a full and exciting day. I glance at my fitbit. No wonder I am exhausted... 31,450 steps and 113 sets of stairs! 

Fortunately there is a bar just outside the gates and we gladly meet there. Falling into chairs we circle around, order a cold glass of wine and share the photos we got. 

Petra has exceeded ever expectation. Eventually we make our way back to the hotel and crash. It will be another early morning as we make our way into the desert of Wadi Rum.   Come With Me....