I am sitting in a well furnished Starbucks in the Amman neighborhood of Abdoun, just minutes from the US Embassy, slowly typing a final paper. The irony of the scene is that if I was in Ellensburg, I would probably be at a Starbucks, slowly typing a final paper. The drinks would even be the same, a grande Earl Grey, positioned to the left of my laptop, steaming aggressively. Here is the part where I should make some grandiose treatise on human nature; that humans seek out the familiar or are creatures of habit. Or I could take the time to expound on globalization and the raw efficiency of capitalism. Well, lucky for you, I’m not qualified to assess either.
I have been working on a clever way to wrap up this semester abroad. A nice, neat note summing it all up. The more I try, the more I keep finding it impossible. There is no way to describe the end because there is no end. It is simply another chapter in my hastily written life and like any good story each chapter has its place in the greater plot; each character and event affecting the main character differently; each success and failure leaves him a little older and, hopefully, a little wiser. I may leave Jordan but Jordan can never leave me.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
10 Photographs from Abroad
Let me begin by offering an apology, I've been neglecting the upkeep of this project due to school, homework and other invented excuses.
A friend recently emailed me and inquired as to what my 10 favorite pictures were thus far and why. I thought that was an interesting endeavor and something worth writing. Accompanying each picture is a short description. The resolution is low, if you'd like a copy at a higher resolution please don't hesitate to email me.
Coke. In the background the famous Treasury can be seen but the Coke machines in the foreground broke the spell of Petra for me; they kept me cognizant that it's a tourist spot more than anything (although that's not to say it's not a stunning tourist spot). I heard a local talking about their most abundant natural resource, Petraleoum. Puns are universal.
Byblos. A 45 minute taxi ride north of Beirut, Byblos contains ruins from eras spanning from pre-history to today, they nestle close on the same small plot of sea shore. This picture is framed by a small Roman amphitheater. In the background a storm can be seen blowing in off the Mediterranean; like a swarthy baritone awaiting his entrance, stage right.
Damash. This mosque is one of the world's oldest, the Umayyad Mosque, in Damascus, Syria (Axis of Evil). It's big, extraordinarily ornate and they actually let non-Muslims enter. John the Baptists' head is enshrined here (one of three contending for the title) and Salahadin's tomb is outside (fun fact, he's Kurdish).
Sands of Time. This is of Petra, the same facade (literally) in the picture with the Coke machines. The photo is a bit confusing at first-glance but excavation has taken place and what looks like a basement is actually the true first story of the Treasury building. The ground floor as we see it today (Indiana Jones) was actually the second floor when the city was functioning.
Promontory. Another picture of Petra. This is the Monastery, the highest structure at Petra, and the Jordanian flag blowing in the scorching wind. The picture makes me think of the potential man has to create and shape the world. Without which this city would never have been and the only thing carving the canyon walls would be the wind and the grit.
Keffiehs. Also known as "hatas", the traditional Arab head covering. We had just learned how to tie them correctly so anyone who had one, had it on. Interestingly, the red/white is Jordanian and black/white Palestinian. I hesitate to ruminate on the political meaning, if any, that can be derived from the juxtaposition in the image.
Pride. Jordanians are nothing if not patriotic. This at the 100th/10th year anniversary parade commemorating Amman's first city council and King Abdullah II's reign. We attended because the King was supposed to attend. He never materialized and we left the parade with the new found knowledge that a scheduled appearance by the King is, at best, a ghost of a whisper in the dark.
Sinking. This is at the southern most point of the Dead Sea. Mismanagement of the Jordan River has cut off any healthy recharge to the Dead Sea and it's drying up. Huge sinkholes are opening up and locals are losing farmland and homes. This is one such abandoned dwelling. Water policy in the Levant has consistently been a contentious issue and with populations growing the issue of usable water is situated to get much worse.
Empire. A strange comfort is derived from seeing these giants so far from home (mine and theirs). Next to the McDonald's is a Burger King, a KFC, a Pizza Hut and Popeye's. We refer to these areas as American Embassies.
Monastery- This is the doorway to the Monastery and me, for scale.
A friend recently emailed me and inquired as to what my 10 favorite pictures were thus far and why. I thought that was an interesting endeavor and something worth writing. Accompanying each picture is a short description. The resolution is low, if you'd like a copy at a higher resolution please don't hesitate to email me.
Coke. In the background the famous Treasury can be seen but the Coke machines in the foreground broke the spell of Petra for me; they kept me cognizant that it's a tourist spot more than anything (although that's not to say it's not a stunning tourist spot). I heard a local talking about their most abundant natural resource, Petraleoum. Puns are universal.
Byblos. A 45 minute taxi ride north of Beirut, Byblos contains ruins from eras spanning from pre-history to today, they nestle close on the same small plot of sea shore. This picture is framed by a small Roman amphitheater. In the background a storm can be seen blowing in off the Mediterranean; like a swarthy baritone awaiting his entrance, stage right.
Damash. This mosque is one of the world's oldest, the Umayyad Mosque, in Damascus, Syria (Axis of Evil). It's big, extraordinarily ornate and they actually let non-Muslims enter. John the Baptists' head is enshrined here (one of three contending for the title) and Salahadin's tomb is outside (fun fact, he's Kurdish).
Sands of Time. This is of Petra, the same facade (literally) in the picture with the Coke machines. The photo is a bit confusing at first-glance but excavation has taken place and what looks like a basement is actually the true first story of the Treasury building. The ground floor as we see it today (Indiana Jones) was actually the second floor when the city was functioning.
Promontory. Another picture of Petra. This is the Monastery, the highest structure at Petra, and the Jordanian flag blowing in the scorching wind. The picture makes me think of the potential man has to create and shape the world. Without which this city would never have been and the only thing carving the canyon walls would be the wind and the grit.
Keffiehs. Also known as "hatas", the traditional Arab head covering. We had just learned how to tie them correctly so anyone who had one, had it on. Interestingly, the red/white is Jordanian and black/white Palestinian. I hesitate to ruminate on the political meaning, if any, that can be derived from the juxtaposition in the image.
Pride. Jordanians are nothing if not patriotic. This at the 100th/10th year anniversary parade commemorating Amman's first city council and King Abdullah II's reign. We attended because the King was supposed to attend. He never materialized and we left the parade with the new found knowledge that a scheduled appearance by the King is, at best, a ghost of a whisper in the dark.
Sinking. This is at the southern most point of the Dead Sea. Mismanagement of the Jordan River has cut off any healthy recharge to the Dead Sea and it's drying up. Huge sinkholes are opening up and locals are losing farmland and homes. This is one such abandoned dwelling. Water policy in the Levant has consistently been a contentious issue and with populations growing the issue of usable water is situated to get much worse.
Empire. A strange comfort is derived from seeing these giants so far from home (mine and theirs). Next to the McDonald's is a Burger King, a KFC, a Pizza Hut and Popeye's. We refer to these areas as American Embassies.
Monastery- This is the doorway to the Monastery and me, for scale.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Stairwell Cuisine
Landing at the Beirut/Rafique Hariri International airport in Lebanon requires the plane to hug the surface of the Mediterranean Sea before touching down. The sparkling blue-green expanse was a sight for sore eyes after living in ("in") the deserts of Jordan for weeks. Beirut, the "Paris of the Middle East", and Lebanon is a place in a constant identity crisis. This stems from almost constant foreign rule. The Lebanese take this in stride and every local speaks at least three languages. France had the most apparent influence (to me). Lebanon had French protectorate (colonial) status after WWI. The French influenced buildings and their crumbling facades were a high-point of the visit. Byblos was another high-point, it's an ancient city north of Beirut and right on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. The city boasts that it's been continously inhabited since 5000 BC but that fact has been claimed by more than a few. Byblos' ruins span the ages; pre-historic, Roman, Medieval. The small Roman amphitheatre that frames the Sea below is simple and breathtaking.
We also went up to Tripoli. A lovely experience. The town has a huge military presence (sometimes buses might "explode") was a comfort and the constant, slack-jawed stares from the local population were flattering. Also no one spoke English, tres exotic!
Anytime an American goes to Syria (Axis of Evil!) there are complications. Horror stories abound about the borders, long waits and vile guards. In my mind the border facility was going to be a filthy two room hovel: one room for interrogations and one for beatings. In reality the building was very reminiscent of a DMV office (except the wait was shorter and they spoke better English). The Syrian guards were a bit cold at first but after our entry was approved (following a five hour wait, in perspective not too bad) their attitudes changed and they were completely welcoming. The tough-guy guard who'd had his arms crossed walked swiftly to the window, reached into his pocket, produced a pack of Marlboros, offered me one, I graciously declined, he insisted, pushing the box under the small rectangular opening between the bottom of the window and the counter, I relented, took one, he lit it for me (holding the lighter's flame under the window), I finished the entry process chuckling and puffing on a horrid Syrian Marlboro.
Damascus is a sprawling, ancient city (fun fact: it's the oldest continuously inhabited city!). The souks were crowded, disorienting, and lovely. The Umayyad Mosque, completed in 715 AD, even with a surging crowd it's hard for one not to feel the tranquil aurora of the place. The mosque holds John the Baptists' head (insert Washington Irving joke) and the tomb of the great leader Saladin. It's said to be the model on which all mosques are built. Yes, Syria is part of the Axis of Evil (Bolton, 2002). It's an oppressive, dictatorial regime that heavily stifles freedom. That being said my visit was a pleasant one: the people were kind, the sights plentiful, the food cheap and the gut-ravaging bacteria free!
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
"Vast, Echoing and God-like"
To say Ramadan is not fun is a gross understatement. Participants of the month long fast cannot eat, drink or smoke during the day. Stores and offices are on shortened hours. Being in Jordan during Ramadan is like being trapped in an amusement park after closing. There is another side to Ramadan though, it is a time for families to spend time together, to host friends for large, extravagant dinner parties and for Muslims to reflect. For lazy Americans it’s a time to feel sorry for themselves.
Taking beginning Arabic is an experience I was not prepared for. I read somewhere that learning Arabic takes seven times longer to learn than French. That bizarre equation came to be is beside the point, Arabic is tough. Unlike the Romance languages (Spanish, French and English) the Arabic language has a unique set of letters and numbers. I’m only halfway through the letters and know up to number five (hamza!). But like any good student traveler I’m slowly learning the basics from the most dedicated of teachers; screaming taxi drivers.
We recently had a group excursion to Wadi Rum, Aqaba and Petra. It was a weekend full of quiet wonder, followed quickly by a flurry of camera snaps (to which I contributed heavily, see photos). In Wadi Rum we traced the route T.E. Lawrence and Sharif Hussein’s Arab freedom fighters took during their attack on Aqaba during WWI (great strategy, they took Aqaba from the unprotected side of the city facing the “uncrossable” desert, rendering the Turks’ sea faced weapons useless). The wadi (valley) consists of scorching red/orange desert sand dunes. The dunes are punctuated by sharp, towering rock formations. We rode camels for a grumble filled four hours. I can’t imagine traveling on camelback from Saudi Arabia to Aqaba like Lawrence and the Arabs. The next day we took a dusty 4x4 ride through the desert on the second day, finally reaching Aqaba.
Aqaba is Jordan’s only port city. Nice. Sunny. We swam in the Red Sea. It didn’t part. Nothing to report.
Petra has had bit of a resurgence due to its prominence as a location of mystery and magic in a few contemporary films. It started with Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Petra is where Indy finds the Holy Grail and saves Sean Connery from the Nazis. Petra also has much to do with the Transformers franchise. Something about that there’s a hidden special device that does something to stop or start something else thereby saving whoever; but no one is paying attention because Megan Fox is on screen.
Petra in reality is more magnificent than any movie camera can capture. It is an ancient capital, a lost city of a lost people. It’s a city of grand tombs and crypts, intricately and painstakingly carved into solid rock. The facades are imposing yet beautiful; barely hinting at their ultimately unknowable secrets. The Greek and Roman influences are unmistakable and immediately familiar; the same architecture is found throughout many American public and private buildings. The Nabateans built the city along their lucrative trade route, moving the incense north from the Arabian Peninsula. It’s speculated they left the city and assimilated into local populations after new sea routes made their overland routes obsolete. But I know it’s a hopeless task trying to portray Petra adequately, but hopefully the photographs will provide an added dimension to this misunderstood marvel.
Taking beginning Arabic is an experience I was not prepared for. I read somewhere that learning Arabic takes seven times longer to learn than French. That bizarre equation came to be is beside the point, Arabic is tough. Unlike the Romance languages (Spanish, French and English) the Arabic language has a unique set of letters and numbers. I’m only halfway through the letters and know up to number five (hamza!). But like any good student traveler I’m slowly learning the basics from the most dedicated of teachers; screaming taxi drivers.
We recently had a group excursion to Wadi Rum, Aqaba and Petra. It was a weekend full of quiet wonder, followed quickly by a flurry of camera snaps (to which I contributed heavily, see photos). In Wadi Rum we traced the route T.E. Lawrence and Sharif Hussein’s Arab freedom fighters took during their attack on Aqaba during WWI (great strategy, they took Aqaba from the unprotected side of the city facing the “uncrossable” desert, rendering the Turks’ sea faced weapons useless). The wadi (valley) consists of scorching red/orange desert sand dunes. The dunes are punctuated by sharp, towering rock formations. We rode camels for a grumble filled four hours. I can’t imagine traveling on camelback from Saudi Arabia to Aqaba like Lawrence and the Arabs. The next day we took a dusty 4x4 ride through the desert on the second day, finally reaching Aqaba.
Aqaba is Jordan’s only port city. Nice. Sunny. We swam in the Red Sea. It didn’t part. Nothing to report.
Petra has had bit of a resurgence due to its prominence as a location of mystery and magic in a few contemporary films. It started with Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Petra is where Indy finds the Holy Grail and saves Sean Connery from the Nazis. Petra also has much to do with the Transformers franchise. Something about that there’s a hidden special device that does something to stop or start something else thereby saving whoever; but no one is paying attention because Megan Fox is on screen.
Petra in reality is more magnificent than any movie camera can capture. It is an ancient capital, a lost city of a lost people. It’s a city of grand tombs and crypts, intricately and painstakingly carved into solid rock. The facades are imposing yet beautiful; barely hinting at their ultimately unknowable secrets. The Greek and Roman influences are unmistakable and immediately familiar; the same architecture is found throughout many American public and private buildings. The Nabateans built the city along their lucrative trade route, moving the incense north from the Arabian Peninsula. It’s speculated they left the city and assimilated into local populations after new sea routes made their overland routes obsolete. But I know it’s a hopeless task trying to portray Petra adequately, but hopefully the photographs will provide an added dimension to this misunderstood marvel.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Ahlan wa Sahlan
Ahlan wa Sahlan. Welcome to Jordan.
The ride from the airport was the perfect introduction to the Jordanian taxi experience. Taxis in Amman harken back to a simpler time; a time free from the constraints of seatbelts, the needlessness of brakes and the annoyance of traffic lanes. For all my complaining the drivers do get you there in time and in relative safety; but the statistic that 44% of deaths in Jordan come from traffic collisions is never far from my mind.
My first meal consisted of a fish sandwich from KFC. I understand that my action was probably a huge study abroad faux pas. In hindsight I should've made friends with some locals, got invited to their home and had a three hour feast of local delicacies. But I was weak and the fluorescent glow of the Colonel was too powerful to resist.
The Romans knew Amman not as Amman but as Philadelphia and the remnants of their rule are still apparent. One of the best examples of Roman influence is the Roman Amphitheatre in downtown Amman (a short, relaxing taxi ride from the hotel). It is a beautiful, massive outdoor theatre carved into a hillside. The antiquity of the structure and the crumbling yet still imposing architecture is almost enough to provoke a musing on the slow, steady march of time or the inevitable, unstoppable decline of empire. Almost.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Waiting for To Go
The thing that catches my attention most these days is coupons. Not just because I'm a savvy shopper but because of the expiration dates. Seeing a date and knowing I’ll be overseas when that date passes is startling for some reason. Add that to the fact that I’m missing out on such great sales. Half Priced Soap! Clearance Beef!! It’s almost enough to make a guy want to stay.
The best description I can come up with about how I’m feeling is as follows:
MENA Martini
One-part restlessness
Two-parts confidence
A dash of hesitance
Shake well with ice, strain, and garnish with a bit of pita. Hopefully it'll go down smooth...
Monday, July 6, 2009
Thief!
I'm not an experienced victim. I have had a wallet stolen before, a couple of minor possessions but never like this. Our house was broken into on the 4th and neatly picked apart. All told they nicked $3,000 worth of electronics. My laptop, cell phone charger and cologne (!) all have a new home. My roommates lost a Wii, PS3, X-Box 360 and assorted bric-a-brac.
You never get used to that feeling. The empty, sick feeling at the bottom of your stomach. Disgusted, hurt and irritated. I think I'm more irritated than anything else. Dealing with theft is so inconvenient, it's so outside my normal routine. Nowhere do I have scheduled: solve, clue-gather or sleuth. I'm tempted to buy a fedora, a .38, a flask of whiskey and hit the beat.
That is what you want to do though. You want to solve it. You want to run down leads, break down a door and get confessions. But there's no way. No way you could do that stuff without breaking more laws than the burglars did. So you call the police, file a report and consider buying a dog. A big dog. Or two big dogs. And a cougar. Yeah, that oughta do it...
I can't help but wonder why they left the things they did. I have a decent collection of books (coloring mostly, some pop-up). Untouched. 30 Rock season 1 & 2. Undisturbed. Cowboy boots. Pristine. Instead they took two bottles of cologne I never use and have had since high school and a couple of CWU library DVD's. If anyone is reeking of Curve and watching All the President's Men (as is the MO of most robbers); let me know.
Here's the part where I rationalize everything. I didn't lose $5 million in a Ponzi scheme, I'm not ruined from an adjustable rate mortgage, and no one was hurt (physically, anyways). I'm only slightly more irritated than I would be on a normal Monday morning. The only bright spot in this whole mess is that we're safer than we've ever been, we have nothing left to take, the only electronic left to steal is my electric razor. Although I doubt they would ever get past the two big dogs and cougar...
You never get used to that feeling. The empty, sick feeling at the bottom of your stomach. Disgusted, hurt and irritated. I think I'm more irritated than anything else. Dealing with theft is so inconvenient, it's so outside my normal routine. Nowhere do I have scheduled: solve, clue-gather or sleuth. I'm tempted to buy a fedora, a .38, a flask of whiskey and hit the beat.
That is what you want to do though. You want to solve it. You want to run down leads, break down a door and get confessions. But there's no way. No way you could do that stuff without breaking more laws than the burglars did. So you call the police, file a report and consider buying a dog. A big dog. Or two big dogs. And a cougar. Yeah, that oughta do it...
I can't help but wonder why they left the things they did. I have a decent collection of books (coloring mostly, some pop-up). Untouched. 30 Rock season 1 & 2. Undisturbed. Cowboy boots. Pristine. Instead they took two bottles of cologne I never use and have had since high school and a couple of CWU library DVD's. If anyone is reeking of Curve and watching All the President's Men (as is the MO of most robbers); let me know.
Here's the part where I rationalize everything. I didn't lose $5 million in a Ponzi scheme, I'm not ruined from an adjustable rate mortgage, and no one was hurt (physically, anyways). I'm only slightly more irritated than I would be on a normal Monday morning. The only bright spot in this whole mess is that we're safer than we've ever been, we have nothing left to take, the only electronic left to steal is my electric razor. Although I doubt they would ever get past the two big dogs and cougar...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
