The Hashemite Kingdom

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

I am back from the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan; back to Tel Aviv; back to telling stories via e-mail. Tonight I went out with Eitan Reich and had a really beneficial conversation about life; Zochrot; "the situation" of Israel / Palestine; MCC; our friendship; his expectation of having a baby next month; our shared "adventure" of looking around and trying to figure out just what our purpose is and what life is about. And, no, I don't want to read a Rick Warren book.

It was also really nice to be back in Tel Aviv to hang out with my buddy Matan. It felt good to have a buddy whose eyes lit up at seeing me and he threw his arms around me laughing, eager to know what I had experienced in Jordan. He was so happy to hear that my eyes had seen the Dead Sea from the Jordanian side, that my feet had walked on paths in the desert, that I had eaten in Amman. He said, "I'm going to go there; we have peace with Jordan." Then he said, "I really want to see Damascus..." His eyes took on a look of longing and he said, "One day...." We spent the afternoon, today, watching Welkin's latest concert that was taped and the DVD was sent to me. At one point my brother tells the crowd that they are missing their biggest fan and that he is usually dancing and cheering and Matan started laughing and leaned into the TV and said to the screen, "I know your brother, and he is crazy!" We laughed and enjoyed the show. Me with the ever present Welkin-tears on my cheeks.

So, I would like to give you a couple of snippets of my time in Jordan. But first a little scene painting: Thursday I took the bus to Jerusalem and met up with Mark and Andrea, Bassem, and Chris and Tim. We went to a really cool restaurant in East Jerusalem and I was able to get all caught up with Mark and Andrea, having not seen them since orientation in Emerika in July. I slept in Bethlehem at Chris and Tim's house and it was nice to visit with them.

Friday morning, bright and early - 6:30 Bethlehem time - I was dropped off in Jerusalem (a twenty-five minute drive to a different world), where it was 7:30, since Israel's time change (the fall-back) and Palestine's time change (indeed, the whole Arab world) are a week apart. I wonder if there is more to a time change than a time change.... It's at least really good for all the Muslims, since it's Ramadanadingdong and they don't eat until it's dark (it's dark at 5:30pm, now). Anyway, the "MCC Palestine" folks jumped in our hired mini-bus and headed for the Allenby Bridge crossing (called King Hussein bridge from the Jordanian side). We drove through the Judean Desert, saw many shepherds with their sheep and goats, camels and some really nice-looking asses (as in donkeys...I want one...he can live on my roof...I'd make him a manger and call him D-Block). As we approached the border, we saw the Dead Sea; we drove past Jericho (which is a big sprawling Palestinian city) and finally got to the border.

The crossing took less time than I had been told it would. We went through Israeli security, paid our departure tax, waited around a while, got on a bus, then eventually started moving towards Jordan. I got to see the Jordan River, even though it is more like a stream near the Dead Sea (it still rages up north, as it flows from the Golan Heights into Lake Kinneret, or as we call it, the Sea of Galilee; I haven't seen it in person, just photos). Halfway across the bridge we were boarded and had our passports taken from us, where we got them back once we got to the Jordanian side and were processed at customs. We then took two taxis between the group of us and headed to the MCC office in Amman, the capital city of Jordan.

Once there, we teamed up with the rest of the MCCers, 25 in total, where we took a big chartered bus the four-hour drive south to Wadi Dana, a nature reserve about sixty KM north of Petra (have you ever seen the climax of the final installment of Indiana Jones....that place is Petra). The drive down took twice as long as the drive back because on the way down we took the King's Highway, which winded along like the drive to Whistler, meandering along mountain passes, giving great views and offering nausea for the car-sick prone folks (like myself and Andrea). The way home we took the Desert Highway, which took two hours and was straight and flat. I guess it was nice to go both ways, but my head still swims when I think of all the turns and curves of the King's Highway.

Wadi Dana is a nature reserve in the desert, in between the Dead Sea (to the north) and Aqaba on the Red Sea (to the south). There was no oasis of water, as I had expected; but a dry mountainous canyon-filled series of valleys that had rocks like teeth and were sporatically highlighted with cacti and small evergreen trees. It caused me to realise why Zion Canyon is called that in America - Wadi Dana looked very similar to the pictures I have seen of Zion Canyon. We camped at the bottom of a valley that we got to by shuttle truck, riding in the open back, wondering if we were going to plunge over the side into the canyon below. We stayed in tents that had parking-lot-party-blankets (which I knew very well not to use) and mattresses that we could sleep on. Bassem and I shared a tent. He tried in vain to wake me up and stop me from snoring. The second night, he told me that he was even full-on punching me to stop me from snoring. I wouldn't wake up and wouldn't stop snoring. I was happy to hear that some things never change.

Okay, here's a snippet.

On Saturday morning, some of us went on a guided hike up to some caves. As it turned out they were caves where ascetics used to live back in the Byzantine period, which were later occupied by Beduins, as recently as twenty-five years ago. The caves were super cool. All the rock was sandstone and once we got to the caves, we had to scale up a cliff to get into them. It was really cool to see. There were crosses etched into the stone and you could just imagine how a family or some ascetic monk with his camel-hair shirt itching his skin could sit or where food could be stowed. The view was incredible but it occurred to me that one who rolls in one's sleep wouldn't last very long in these caves. The highlight was scooting across a very narrow ledge to access the church. It was carefully carved out and was only ten feet by ten feet but had beautiful rounded arches and spaces for shrines. The roof had been rounded out and both sides and back also had been rounded. I understood that this church was more than 1500 years old.

Here's another snippet.

I needed some time alone, since that's how I am and on Saturday night I slipped off, away from the fire and the singing and grabbed my CD player and headed out to a cliff edge under the canopy of stars. I took my shirt off and stood with my arms upstretched in the cold desert night. I was so happy to be cold. Then I laid down on the even colder rock and listened to Welkin's Strangers and Exiles, tears on my cheeks, me singing to keep the creepy crawlies away and I stared into the welkin - the firmament of the heavens - feeling wonder that this desert air had never heard the voice of a human singing the words of these particular beautiful songs. Bassem joined me after some time and I got him to listen to Howling Wind because of its appropriateness - the Middle Eastern climactic ending and the stiff breeze of the desert night. We talked about life and God and the cosmos for a while; then when our conversation turned to being so far from home I put the earphones on him again and let him listen to Psalm of Pearls. He was amazed that my brother made such beautiful music. My earphones can really crank it out, so I held them up and we laid back, watching shooting stars together, letting the album play through before going back and warming ourselves up by the fire. I was loving the cold and poor Bassem was shivering but we had a really good time out in the desert night with the welkin and the Welkin.

Historical Mention: the general area where we stayed is mentioned in the Bible. Apparently Wadi Dana is seven km from the ancient capital city of Edom, called Rimmon. Judges 20:45ff picks up a battle between Israel and the Benjamites, where Israel slaughtered thousands of Benjamites and six hundred of them hid in the rocks of Rimmon for four months. Looking around, I could easily see how six hundred men could hide out in the rocks, the caves, the crevices.

Sunday afternoon we all piled back on the bus and returned to Amman, where we said our goodbyes and the "MCC Palestine" folks stayed in a hotel. A few of us went out for dinner and then a guy named Chris Thiessen (who is here with his parents for a few months) and I went to the hotel pool and did the pool, hot-tub, steam-room, sauna circuit a few times until I was too exhausted to continue. We returned to Jerusalem on Monday morning, said our goodbyes to each other there, too, and I got on a bus and came back to Tel Aviv.

I slept for fifteen hours last night - my body, mind and soul needed a rest from "retreating."