Tuesday, 12 May 2009

Amman, Jordan, May 18, 2009

I've walked with Jesus.

Well, that's a lie, and Jesus doesn't care for liars so here's the real story.

Two business meetings brought me to Amman, Jordan for three days this spring. I wasn't sure what to expect, but it turned out to be awesome! Our British Midlands flight arrived late on a Sunday night. Two colleagues (let's call them Carmine and Jay) and I shared a taxi to our hotel, the Grand Hyatt Amman. We had a drink at the hotel bar with two of Carine's friends who happened to be there for a wedding...random. Then it was off to bed to rest up before our morning meetings.

Breakfast at nice hotels in the Middle East rocks. No matter where in the world you're from, they'd have something for you. I didn't know what half the stuff was so I stuck with a veggie omelette. Boring, yes, but good (and familiar) fortification for the day ahead. One meeting was better than the other, but the bad one was definitely more interesting. It was a lot like any other business meetings in London, except instead of landscaping or a Christopher Wren facade, camouflage wearing, machine-gun wielding guards patrolled the perimeter of the building. Not to worry, they weren't aiming at us.

Carmine was the only woman we saw inside the labyrinthine building and to add to the effect she had forgotten to pack her suit jacket - the bare shoulders did not go unnoticed. The clients were extremely cordial and professional and the sweet tea they offered was delicious. Unfortunately we had a teeny bit of trouble communicating. Their English only went so far and my Arabic consisted of the five words Carmine had taught me in the taxi on the way over; marhaba, shoukran, naam, laa, hammam. Unfortunately, the purpose of the meeting was not to record the first two minutes of a "Learn Jordanian Arabic!" DVD. Explaining the financial crisis and reassuring them that we would do our best not to lose any of their money turned out to be slightly more challenging.

Anyway, sitting by the pool with a beer (Carlsberg) was a great way to unwind and it was soon time to explore Amman. Carmine had been to Amman before and knew of a great restaurant called Fakher Al-Deen, but alas all booked up (on a Monday!?) So we asked the hotel concierge to recommend a good "authentic" Jordanian restaurant. They sent us to a place across town called Jabri.

Carmine: What kind of food do they have?
Concierge: Mensif is their specialty!
Carmine: What's mensif?
Concierge: Lamb in a yogurt sauce served over rice.
Carmine: Hmm. What else do they have?
Concierge: You should really try the mensif.
Carmine (to Concierge #2): If someone was allergic to lamb, what else could they eat at Jabri?
Concierge #2: No one is allergic to mensif.


Not mensif.  One of the other delicacies

We figured this place and this dish were worth trying so we got in a taxi and made our way there. (Travelers tip: the price of 15 minute taxi ride if picked up at the hotel was 10 dinar ($15). The same journey, but from a taxi hailed at the corner cost 1 dinar.)

When the taxi stopped in front of Jabri, we were, uh, tentative. It was a buffet style fast food joint. I didn't know what any of the food was nor how to order or where to sit. As the only three people in western dress, we stuck out, big time. We went back outside to check the name of the place - sure enough, Jabri. Finally, a nice local gent pointed us around to the side of the building, which included a door to what looked like a hotel. We walked in a felt slightly more comfortable, but it still didn't feel quite right. Carmine exchanged a few words with the receptionist and we were directed into a large buffet hall, minus the food. "No food until 8,"
Carmine learned. No worries, a nice aperitif would be perfect about now. However, this being and authentic Middle East, it's no booze allowed. Clearly I've been living in England too long when the thought of waiting 30 minutes for dinner without the comfort of a drink gives me the willies.

As expected, the buffet food started marching out and other diners started marching in around 8:00. We started with some appetizers which were really good. In consisted of lots of different types of cold salads, hummus, dilly yogurt, tebouleh, baba ganoush, etc. Then, it was time for the main attraction. Ah, how to describe mensif?? Whitish lamb soaking in a soupy yogurt, served over rice. I wanted to like it. I love local stuff. This one was a stretch. I definitely preferred the meat-ball things. I can't remember what they're called, but "Kafka" seems to keep popping in my head so I think it was something like that. The dessert section looked intimidating, again filled with sweets unknown to me. Like the apps, they all turned out to e really good. Having tried the local cuisine, we returned to the hotel lounge for something more familiar...wine.


Carmine had to fly out the next morning, but Jay and I had another meeting the following day. There was only one flight (well, one affordable flight - we had to book last-minute) per day between Amman and London which left at 9:00am so once we finished our late-morning meeting we would have the rest of the day to ourselves. In the middle of breakfast (about 9am) Jay got a call - meeting cancelled. The whole day was ours!

We arranged to have a driver take us to some nearby historical sites. Omar, the driver, picked us up from the hotel around 11:30am. He is a Palestinian and lived southern California for about 10 years in the 90s and early 2000s. At first he was pretty quiet, focused mostly on
pointing out the sights and planning out the day. Later on, however, he loosened up and shared his thoughts on his country, the King and other Jordanian Royals, America, Obama, and even Israel (or "the Israelis in Palestine" as he referred to them.) It is interesting to hear about the Israeli/Palestinian conflict from the other side of the table. Needless to say, the West tends to get a relatively one sided view on things. A few interesting observations:
- There are more Palestinians in Jordan than in Palestine (Gaza & West Bank) and about one third of all Jordanians are of Palestinian descent
- No one in Jordan refers to Israel, but rather they call it Palestine
- People of Palestinian descent who were born in Jordan don't consider themselves Jordanian

It was probably cleaner looking when Jesus was here
Anyhow, after a quick stop at a souvenir shop shop to pick up some goodies for Erin (miracle creams from the Dead Sea) we drove toward the location along the River Jordan where Jesus was baptized. I assumed such a place would be teeming with tourists and religious pilgrims, but I was way off. The dusty parking lot where we would get the bus to the river was nearly empty when we pulled in. We bought our 7 dinar tickets and boarded the "bus" which was actually a pick-up truck with a shoddy canopy and some seats installed into the truck bed. There were probably about 10 people in our group, all Westerners. The Jordanian guide was very friendly and knowledgeable and seemed very proud to be giving us the tour. He was a Muslim but he said 90% of the visitors to the site were Christian. Since the river creates the official boarder between Israel and Jordan we had to go through border control before we got there (border control wouldn't be on the actual river would. The armed guards had a cursory glance in the back of the truck and we were off again.

We drove through the desert for about 15 minutes before arriving and "the end of the road." From this point, we continued on foot. The landscape was barren - the only thing in sight were a few crosses and churches and the rest was dusty foothills. As we approached the river on foot, the vegetation increased slightly and suddenly we were there. We didn't think we were there yet (you'll understand when you see the pictures) but we had arrived. Our guide explained some history about the sight. Obviously there weren't TV cameras or even newspaper reporters there to document the event so needless to say there's something of a debate about where the actual baptism took place. The first semi-permanent structure was added by Greeks in about the 5th century. Since 500 years had already passed since John did the deed, it is easy to imagine that it would be tough to find the exact spot. Well, the rationale he used was good enough for me. I was convinced.

So what does the baptism site look like? I had expected the sight to be quite humble, but after spending the last two years visiting churches and cathedrals throughout Europe, I guess I expected something at least somewhat remarkable. You'll have to see the pics to understand my surprise, but needless to say, the site itself does not do justice to arguably the most influential man/God in history. As it turns out, the water at the exact site is actually spring water. It used to appear to be a part of the Jordan, but over time as the River's water level has lowered it is no longer connected. We were about 2 days behind the Pope's visit to the same place and he evidently bathed or at least touched the water where Jesus swam. I hope the guy has a strong immune system because the stagnant green water looked pretty unappealing.


To think of all that His church has become over the last 2000+ years, it's easy to forget that the Man himself was just a humble carpenter (or fisherman, I forget). Anyway, despite its simplicity, it's hard not to feel a little moved to stand in a place where such an historic event took place.

We continued down to another part of the River. At this place, you can actually touch the water. If you're important enough (we weren't) you can be baptized there. On the Jordan side, there was a wooden platform that led down to the water. There were about 10 or 15 tourists including our group loitering and looking, trying to take in our surroundings. On the Israeli side there was an enormous concrete and marble structure. It looked intimidating, impressive, and expensive. Clearly the skinny river (about 10-15 feet across) separates two very different worlds. Machine-gun armed Israeli guards kept their eye on us, albeit from a distance. No one was disturbing anyone else and if you didn't know the history it could easily be seem almost amicable.

Feeling humbled and a little bit holy, our next stop was the Dead Sea itself. We had bought some swim suits at the hotel and we found one of the few public beaches on the Jordanian side of the Dead Sea coast. A number of new hotels and a new road were under construction, but aside from that it was pretty quiet. The construction was clearly there for the benefit of tourists more than locals. We paid our 12 dinar, changed into our suits and walked down to the lowest land on Earth, nearly 1000 feet below sea-level. (Coincidentally, Chris Grubb would later that week summit Mount Everest to arrive at the highest point on Earth. Congrats Chris! Clearly our mountain climbing careers took very different paths after our overnight expedition on Mt. Hood when we were 15.)

Once I waded in, I immediately understood the need for "how to swim" signs along the entrance to the beach. The water is incredibly salty; 9 times saltier than the ocean. It is so buoyant that it's hard to stay upright. It's not quite as hard as standing on a submerged kick-board, but that's the idea. It's better to just lie on your back and float. I think even my dad could float in this water. One drip of the salty water made it into my mouth and another into my eye. Neither was pleasant. We lasted about 15 minutes - a short, but very cool experience.

Next stop: Mt Nebo. This is where Moses turned to take his last look at the Promised Land after leaving Jerusalem, Jericho and Moab. If you like barren deserts, it's a breathtaking view. Next stop was a Catholic Church in Madaba. The floor of the church is 5th century Greek mosaic map of the region. Very cool. During the 45 minute drive back to Amman, we covered some fascinating topics with Omar ranging from the fiscal reform efforts of King Abdulluh II to the San Fernando Porn industry (a Jewish effort to portray all non-Jews as sex addicts.) Jay and I arrived back in time for dinner. This time the recommendation from the hotel was spot on. The name of the place escapes me, but it was a great Lebanese dinner.

At the hotel in Amman
So is Jesus my Homeboy? Well, I may have walked where He once did and that is good enough for now.

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