When we left Turkey on our 12 hour night bus ride through Syria ending in Amman, we were sadly disapppointed to have had to forgo this Middle Eastern country. Syria had always seemed like a truly exotic, forbidden place for foreigners/Americans, and it had been a major planned destination for us on this trip. But when the U.S. Embassy in Damascus tells us, "Don't come to Syria, it's too dangerous right now," we would be ignorant not to listen. The Embassy was closed for over 2 weeks during which time there were demonstrations and riots on both U.S. and British sites. But as we drove through quiet downtown Damascus around 9pm a couple days before Christmas and saw the beautiful Christmas decorations and lights adorning nearly every apartment window and the abundence of Christmas trees, we were both comforted and sad. It will just have to be another time.

Therefore, since we missed out on everything Syria has to offer the traveller, our Syrian memories consist of a long bus ride through the pitch black night in an old run down Turkish bus where every single passenger chain smoked for 12 straight hours and there wasn't a single window that opened on the entire bus. No joke, one guy (who you just couldn't help but watch in horrifying fascination) smoked over a gross of cigarettes during the trip. Yep, he averaged a cancer stick every five minutes, continually lighting the next one with the smouldering butt-stump of the old one. It was so smokey, visibility on the bus was only about ten feet in any direction. We couldn't even see the driver. I inadvertantly brushed my sleeve against my nose at one point and it came away with a onyx streak like it had been rubbed with charcoal.

At 1am the driver pulled into a deserted downtown Amman street and dumped us into the hands of 50 desperate Jordanian taxi drivers literally SCREAMING for us to pick them.  It was both funny and hell. We finally picked one guy, told him our destination and asked for a quote. We laughed when he quoted 5 times what we were expecting, and we told the rest of the group that we'd pay 1 dinar to get there (about $1.50)- whoever accepted first. It was quiet for about three seconds before a small voice piped up from the back and said, "OK, I'll do it," and the rest of the scammers almost lynched the poor guy. It was actually quite scary, and we both thought that the driver was in for a bad beating.  But we broke away quickly amid the Arabic curses and screams, hopped in the cab and took off. He ended up giving us an even better recommendation for our hotel once we saw how disgusting the place we picked actually was, and we stayed in the best hotel so far on this entire trip (TV, CNN, bathroom, shower, refrigerator, honor bar...joy), still paying only about $20.

We spent a few days in Amman, slowly getting our bearings in the most strictly Muslim country we'd visited so far. This was more difficult than we expected. Very few women (well OK, none) walk around outside in the streets; therefore, Paige attracted an unbelieveable amount of attention. Even with that headscarf. Packs of rabid Jordanian men of all ages would stop in their tracks as we passed, uncaring or uncomprehending my presence, to stare at my wife. If this was at all bad for me, just try to imagine it from Paige's point of view. It seems like the only thing that Middle Eastern men know about western women is from American movies and soap operas.

Christmas Eve we sat in our hotel room listening to the Christian bells play Christmas songs every hour until midnight, and we got a little homesick. A lot of homesick. But a couple schwarmas and cold Cokes seemed to make everything OK. Just the way Santa, or Jesus I guess, had always hoped.

Christmas morning we took off for the ancient Roman city of Petra. Minibuses in Jordan don't leave at specific times. They start filling up at specific times, but don't leave until they're completely full. If you get there "on time," you will undeniably wait to leave for 2-4 hours guaranteed. Since we didn't have any pressing appointments, this was fine with us, and gave us the opportunity to people watch: our favorite pasttime. However, when we finally left, only five minutes into the trip the driver pulls off the side of the highway at a mosque so that he can rush inside with half the passengers to pray for 30 minutes for the 3rd of the 5 designated times that day...there was a little lingering democratic bitterness involved on our part. You can't help but think, "That would NEVER
happen in America," but then again, I guess that's the whole point of this trip, isn't it? With that revelation, we were able to bask in the moment for what it was: unique and hilarious.

In Petra we were again accosted by a drooling pack of hotel touts, so we split up to work the crowd. We finally came together for a private huddle, and decided on one guy to go with. As we walked off with the guy, leaving the dejected crowd behind us, he starts to tell us, "It's a good thing you didn't go with that other guy, he just got out of jail last week for murdering someone here in town." I don't know what reaction he expected out of us, but when Paige joked, "He said the same thing about you," he was not amused. In fact, he became livid, and vowed to get even with the other guy. "I will KILL him!" he spewed. No amount of convincing would change his mind that we had just been joking, and he just kept mumbling to himself, spewing venom in between telling us the hotel rate and checkout times.

We spent a romantic Christmas night in our small, bare room, sharing a single twin bed, with "A Charlie Brown Christmas" on the portable CD player, and with each of us using a single headphone in one ear. We will never forget this Christmas memory.

Petra is amazing. You walk a few km through the Arabian desert spotted with camels, bedoins, sheiks, Arabian horses and Arab touts, finally arriving at this massive cliff and gorge. The gorge is really narrow, and both sides run upwards of 300 feet, twisting and winding through the mountains. After a couple kilometers of this, you suddenly emerge directly in front of the absolutely huge breathtaking Roman Treasury cut and carved directly into the side of the facing cliff. Astounding. You might remember this scene from "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade..." The entire city of Petra is cut directly into the cliffs, and covers a huge, full-walking-day area. We were hot, exausted and desert worn at the end of the day, and our initial anger at the exorbitant entrance fee (20jd, about $30) was eventually quelled and justified, even though it's still difficult to get past the fact that this fee was one tenth of the cost only two short years ago. Allah Bless the long sticky tentacles of capitalism.

We were able to hook up with another French couple to share a taxi down to Aqaba on the coast of the Red Sea, and left Petra at the crack (of dawn). Even though our driver had an innate tendency to drive on the wrong side of the road at breakneck speeds, unfazed in the approach of oncoming traffic, we still found the means to enjoy the spectacular
desert sunrise scenery. Once in Aqaba, he (the driver) asked us in broken English if it would be OK that he briefly stopped by his house to pick up something. Once there, he invited us all in for tea/coffee, and everyone enthusiastically accepted. He lives with his brother, sister-in-law and their two young babies in a barren, two-room apartment with only cusions on the floor to sit on and an old B+W TV whose picture continually rolls (to the relentless enjoyment of the two year old...).

We all took off our shoes, and awkwardly sat looking at each other, wondering how much this guy just imposed on his relatives. But wonderfully, they were super happy to have us there, and we all laughed and nodded in difficult efforts of communication. The lady actually spoke some English, and took a liking to Paige and I, inviting us back for a "break-fast" Ramadan dinner at sunset. We thankfully accepted, and plans were set.

In preparation for our dinner, we searched for an appropriate "Jordanian dinner party" gift, eventually settling on these Ramadan-special dessert things that are like spongy pancakes folded in half and sealed around either mild cheese or nuts, then drizzled in honey. Our "pick-up" time was 4:30, and by 6pm when he still hadn't come, we finally gave up - owing the standing-up to miscommunication instead of the way we probably smelled. (Hey, we've been traveling a long time now) We were confused, but decided to make the best of it by finding a couple beers for the first time in a couple weeks. 

In Jordan, not only do the people not drink beer during Ramadan (most don't drink it ever), but the bars are closed up tight for the whole month, and it's illegal for any grocery or liquor store to sell at any time during the holy month. But earlier in the day when we were buying water from a small store, the shopkeeper (amazingly sensing somehow that we were tourists) asked jokingly if we wanted to buy wine. We laughed it off, thinking he was making fun of our innate infidel status, but we returned later to see if he was really kidding. We walked in and asked if he would really sell us beer, and he proceeded to get up, look around the store, look outside the door in both directions, then - convinced he wasn't under some kind of freaky Islam-surveilence - instructed us to take our backpack in the back where he loaded it up with sweet forbidden beer. It wasn't even good beer, but damnit, it made us feel really happy anyway.

The next morning as we walked along the beach, a taxi pulls up next to us...and it's our host who stood us up! Fate or something. He demanded that we come that night for dinner, so we had him write down the time so there would be no misunderstanding. He picked us up early (!), and to our surprise took us to a local "break-fast" restaurant where he bought us dinner. We scarfed on cheap mutton. He explained that his brother and sister-in-law couldn't be reached in time to prepare dinner, so we would instead come for tea/coffee. Then he dropped us off at the house, saying he'd be back in two hours. 

However weird this sounds, we had the BEST time there getting to know that small Jordanian family. Since the mother was the only one who spoke any English, she did all the talking. They were both 28, had been married for 2 years and had 2 young babies. She explained that she hated her husband, hated her kids, hated her mother-in-law, hated her life, hated Jordan because they wouldn't allow her to work because she was Palestinian, hated her apartment, hated Aqaba...and loved Americans (who she had grown to love through "The Young and the Restless.") Because her husband didn't understand English, she proceeded to say that he was a worthless slug right in front of him, and he smilingly nodded. With all this hate thrown around, it was a surprisingly fun and happy visit. She was upset because she had an arranged marriage and all connected parties endlessly hounded her to have babies - even against her will. She's not allowed to work, she can't leave the house, she has two young kids she was forced to have, and no one will help her out (relatives included). Granted, she was just one Jordanian story, but it was amazing how different our lives seemed.

We shared pictures of home, and she was fascinated by our family and friends. She showed pictures of their wedding, and in them all she looked like she had been crying
the whole day. She showed a picture of her husband with another woman, and told us that it was his other wife; they had ten kids on their own and they're still married. We nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world, then she burst out with, "JUST KIDDING!" and we all laughed, easing everyone's tensions. At the end of the evening, I asked to take everyone's picture and at first she adamently declined. I told her we promised to mail them a copy of the photo, and at that she said, "In that case, OK, because the U.S. told Iraq that one more mistake and they'd bomb them, and they held their promise and followed through. I know that Americans always live up to their promises." Hey, who would have thought that we'd get some mileage out of THAT in the Middle East? However, I'm sorry to report that on behalf of all Americans I have to apologize for inadvertantly losing their mailing address later that week. I hope we haven't severed future ties between Jordan and the U.S...

The wife here now...Chris does such an amazing job with these travelogues. But I will try to add some colorful tidbits. We were both sad to leave the warm hospitality of Turkey and also very anxious to enter the lion's pit (so we thought) of an anti-American Middle East. How thankfully wrong we were.  We had our most difficult decision on this whole trip when we were in Antakya (also in the biblical terms Antioch where St. Peter was known to have created the world's first cathedral in a cave so the legend goes). The consular officials always give you the bureaucratic generic very conservative statement for ALL Americans. We didn't know if they were being overconservative or just rational. We finally figured that if something bad did happen and no consulate was open, we would be up a creek without the proverbial oar. We knew that having no oar would probably stress out our parents and family to no end, which wouldn't be fair during the Christmas holiday. So onto Jordan.

The best way to arrive in a country happened. We got to the Syrian/Jordanian border late evening about 9 p.m. Of course, since I was the only female on the bus, I was especially nervous. I donned my head scarf and hoped for the best. Well, the best came in the form of a young border guard with the biggest smile on his face and ear-to-ear grin "Welcome in Jordan!!!" Where are you from? America? OH, VERY GOOD! Pointing to a huge portrait photo of King Hussein of the Royal Kingdom of Jordan, this cheerful man said "this is our king, this is our king". When we told him we knew that their queen was an American, a lady now known as Queen Noor, the guy looked like he could have hugged us. He and the other border guards proceeded to inspect the contents of all the baggage of our fellow Arabic passengers, but then waved us off and didn't care to see the insides of ours. How do you like them apples?..., we loved Jordan instantly!     

The rest of the journey goes pretty much like Chris mentioned. The downside for me was that the leers from men really made me uncomfortable and it was hard for me to let my guard down enough to really look around (especially with the "horse-blinders" of my head scarf). I love to look inside the shops, markets and such, but really didn't want to look too long for fear that some creepy man would take it as a come-on. No joke, Chris being next to me had little effect. How do women travel alone here? Either I was too hyper-paranoid (probably the reality) or I just needed to get tougher skin (also the case).   

For me, a personal thrill about Jordan was crossing the Arabian desert. I will never forget seeing wild camels meandering around the barren desert at sunrise and the miles and miles of nothing but dusty, rocky, sand and interspersed bedoin tents and ramshackle camps. Women with long flowing black robes blowing in the breeze as they went about their daily chores. Lawrence of Arabia was live, in full technicolor.

So then we were off to Sinai (Egypt) next for a week or so relaxing in the beautiful waters of the Red Sea within the rugged, rocky mountains of the Sinai Desert...tune in next time for the further adventures of:

Grizd & Fajita
chrisandpaige@hotmail.com