Jordan - On Amman and On Obama

Jordan - On Amman and On Obama - July 29, 2008 (with thoughts from the present)

Patricia and I arrived in Amman, the capital of Jordan, late on our last day before heading back to Israel. We were dropped off at a hostel recommended by our taxi driver and were able to select from four rooms, wildly ranging in sizes, but all for the same price. The trade off seemed to be carefully engineered - the smallest room being the nicest and the rest gradually got more shabby as the rooms got bigger. The largest room had four beds and was a complete disaster. I suggested the compromise and we went for a moderately sized, moderately shabby room with the owner scratching his head about why we wouldn't want the biggest room. I'm not sure what he thought we'd do with the two extra beds. Perhaps make a fort?

With about four hours to spend in Amman and only 1 of those in daylight, we decided for once to do the walking tour from the Lonely Planet guide. We found ourselves strolling through a bustling Middle Eastern city that was full of life, with only the very occasional tourist to be seen. Amman's 2 million people seemed like many other big city's population - either out hitting the local hotspots or hard at work trying to make a living. For me, it was a nice change from the tourist trap that Petra has become (even if it is still a wonderful destination).


We looked carefully through the gold district for bargains, didn't find any, but discovered some wonderful small shops along the way...


...and then followed the route to a "famous" local baker. Notice how he prepares the dough in flat, round pieces, cooks it on that arched metal plate, and then places it on the front counter to cool. Felt like we were watching bread baking in the 15th century, except he was wearing a t-shirt with an American flag.


This baker was one of the friendliest people I've ever met. We chatted for a while, he introduced the whole team and went through how they cook the bread (can you call it bread if it's made like that?). At the end, he offered us a whole piece and refused to take any money. Amazing! It reminded me of a stretchy crepe.

Just before the final stop on the tour (ancient Roman ruins, of course), we passed through a fruit market. I suggested to Patricia that we find our favorite fruit man and buy a little bit so that I could take some pictures. An effective tool I often use to get some of my best pictures - you don't have to spend a lot, but once you've bought something people are happy to have you take as many snaps as you want.

But this time, instead of us finding our favorite guy, he found us. "Hello! I'm Sam!" he exclaimed. Charmed, we headed to his impressive stall and when I responded to his question of where I am from, he excitedly said he'd spent some time in New York and that when he was there everyone called him, "Hey Sam!" (acted with his best Robert De Niro accent).

Sam had won us over. And we were starting to marvel at the friendliness of the Jordanian people. But this wasn't just a normal hello and fruit pitch. He also wanted to share with us a picture and ran to the back to get it. When he returned with a huge smile on his face, Sam rejoiced, "Barack Obama!!"


I was floored! I really had no idea where Sam the Fruitseller would get an Obama HOPE picture in the middle of Jordan. Considering we were only about 50 miles from Syria and maybe 200 from the Iraq border, this was quite a surprise. But Sam genuinely seemed exhilarated by Barack and his smile got even bigger when I offered him a thumbs up in response. We didn't need to buy any fruit to get this photo, but did anyway as we were so happy with his excitement and had a big audience by this point!

Inspired

And this wasn't a one-off during my trip. I've met people in almost all of the 15 countries I've visited in Africa, Europe, the Middle East, and Asia who had a similar response when hearing that I'm American. Thinking that I would collect all the stories and put them together, I have only written about this briefly when I mentioned Troy the Bus Conductor (please overlook the made-up name for the sake of another Joe the Plumber inspired joke). I can't tell you how wonderful that positive reaction is when just a few years ago the response was typically a frowned declaration of "George Bush is horrible."

I'm serious about this. The basic perception of America now seems similar to what it was in the 1970s when the CIA was picking it's favorite regimes in Latin America. Relations with many hearts and minds of people in Central and South America are still tense because of the damaged caused during that time. No one doubts there were tough choices to make, but people have the feeling that the U.S. was on the wrong side of those choices a few too many times. And no matter if you are a 'cowboy' or a 'maverick,' the world seems to want cooperation right now, just the same as what Americans want.

The change in people's perception of America seems to have started already. In Kenya, where Obama's father was born and lived most of his life, the people could not have been more ecstatic. He seems to represent the possibility everyone sees in themselves for great things. However, we also spoke to people who had theories that Barack would be able to help them personally, such as allowing more visas for people from Kenya to visit the US (I don't think he's said anything special on this topic). I suppose with such a successful message, you run the risk of people pinning their own hopes and dreams on you.

Dozens of polls have shown that people internationally prefer Obama, and my own poll over the past 5 months certainly agrees. It seems that most of the world thinks the world will be a better place.

Let's Think

In fact, of all the people I've spoken to on my trip, only one seemed to have a serious criticism. This was on a flight from Nairobi to Cairo which made a brief stop in Khartoum, the capital of Sudan. Of course, we were worried about coming anywhere near Sudan in the current environment, but investigated and found we wouldn't even be leaving the plane. And considering that two days before we were worried about having our sensitive parts ripped out by hyenas, this didn't really seem so bad.

A few hours into the flight, I was reading the Economist again (my way of keeping in touch with changes in the world, and Tom's favorite subject to tease me about.....what's wrong with reading the Economist on the beach??), and I turned the page to find a large picture of Barack Obama. The two African men to my right nudged me and pointed at the picture with big smiles. Up until that point, they had completely ignored me and did not seem remotely interested in conversation. But after we shared a moment over Barack, they loosened up and we chatted for as long as their English could hold up for.

I found that they were from Uganda and travelling to Sudan as part of an African peacekeeper force. I honestly can't imagine a more thankless job at the moment, and genuinely wished them all the best. We chatted about a few things, but quickly came back to Obama. The first man told me about how happy he was that there was even a chance he could be elected President and how even people in Uganda were following the election news every day.

The other thought for a minute, and said that he agreed that people were inspired by Barack Obama and that in many countries there was hope for his election and some real changes in America's role in the world. But, he said, being the U.S. President is one of the most difficult jobs in the world. On day one, Obama will have people desperate for change reaching out to him from every corner of the globe. He felt that Barack didn't have enough experience to handle such an enormous responsibility. I was floored again. The last thing I expected was someone in Africa to be saying they didn't think a black man should be elected the U.S. President.

We landed shortly after, Tom and I headed on to Cairo while the two men departed for a life in Sudan that I can't possibly imagine. I've carefully considered what they both said, the inspiration that people like Sam seemed to draw from Barack himself, and also a host of other issues that I won't go into here. I believe that there is a real hope from people in the world that his message of unity will actually bring people together. The opposite of what our country has been doing in recent years. A historic chance for compromise and progress. An opportunity like that does not come around too often.

Perhaps not as thoughtfully presented as Colin Powell, but with less than a week to go, I feel it's my time to declare....

A Right Minger formally endorses Barack Obama.

Instead of the Palin Bump, maybe someone from Reuters will write about the Minger Bump?


I took this pic of Tom with these cool Tanzanian tribal kids near the Kenya border. Clearly demonstrates the kind of international cooperation that I'm talking about. Over Pringles!

Jordan - King's Highway

Jordan - King's Highway - July 29, 2008

One thing Jordanians seemed to be acutely aware of is that they don't have oil. While their Saudi neighbors are awash in black gold, these resourceful people have had to find more traditional ways to grow into the 21st century. The country has a similar moderate Islam feeling to Turkey, but a much larger proportion of the people are Muslim. They are very proud of their incredible history and have a deep love for the royal family. The royal women especially are reaching out to the Western world to try to help bridge the gap, with former Queen Noor being a member of at least 12 international peace-building organizations and the current Queen Rania starting an amazingly successful YouTube channel (http://youtube.com/QueenRania) aimed particularly at dispelling stereotypes of people in the Arab world. They have definitely earned my respect and admiration.

So instead of an oil economy, Jordan is slowly developing through US and Euro free trade agreements, where they sell textiles, phosphates, and potash; a huge amount of international aid (presumably with encouragement to remain a moderate ally in a region with not too many of them); and especially tourism. The focus of this is Petra (for good reason), but Patricia and I wanted to see what else Jordan had to offer.



Pilgrims on the King's Highway

We hired a driver to take us for the day up the King's highway, passing through about half of Jordan. Outside of the tourist center of Petra, the prices dropped dramatically, and we found ourselves in a small tavern for breakfast of Turkish coffee and falafel, which our driver kindly offered to pay for. Normally not something I'd accept in a country so poor, I gave in when I realized it probably cost about 12 US cents each and we'd be more than compensating him with a good tip later.

The King's Highway is, of course, not actually a highway, but an ancient trading route through the Middle East.


We made our way up through the rocky desert to Shobak Castle. Not quite sure what to expect, we marvelled at the setting when it came into view.


Rolling hills of some of the most barren landscape I've ever seen, the castle is an imposing sight. Originally built in 1115 by Baldwin I of Jerusalem, the castle has a sorted history and has become famous along with nearby Karak Castle because they were both used as bases for charging tax on the traders travelling the King's highway and then later as strongholds by the Christians in the fight against the Muslims during the Crusades. Hence why Karak and Shobak are called Crusader Castles.

We found ourselves to be the only visitors so far that day, and our charming guide took us all through the castle, including the former barracks, a place for storing hidden treasure, and a scary secret passage that we weren't quite brave enough to try out. His stories were fun and full of cheesy jokes (my favorite) and he even reenacted some!


The peaceful desert setting and beautiful stone with no other tourists in sight made for a magical experience. A good chance for us to reflect on what we'd seen and what was to come.


We next stopped at a nearby shop where a friend of our driver had a wide assortment of jewelery, paintings, knives, and anything else he was able to get his hands on. When he learned I was American, he proudly showed me a picture of him with a US Army general who visited several years before. Patricia picked out a beautiful and unique metal perfume bottle and the owner offered us some traditional Bedouin music while we sipped tea and enjoyed the cool of his shop.





Salt the Wound

Back on the road, we veered West from the King's Highway for the classic adventure of a swim in the Dead Sea. At 1,378 ft below sea level, "its shores are the lowest point on the surface of the Earth on dry land." The amazing salt content makes this a very unusual swim. Stopping at a purpose built beach, the shockingly strong sun made us scramble across the hot sand to the cover of one of the small huts scattered throughout the beach. We both found ourselves a bit self-conscious when we noticed a large Muslim family nearby with the women about to go for a swim in full burqa.

Giving ourselves a bit of room, we delicately stepped over the jagged salt that lined the water's edge. When we finally made our way out, the fun of floating with half our body out of the water was tempered by the burn of the salt, sun, and my foot that was cut entering the lake. This is the part they don't tell you in the brochures! You are actually tracked by the lifeguard and are allowed no more than 30 minutes in the water because it is so intense. Patricia giggled at me as an accidental small splash got in my eye and I was blinded for 5 minutes while I waited for my tears to desalinate my eyes. Your hands are no help here as they are just as salty and only make it worse! Like my bungy jump in South Africa, this was one experience I was happy to have done once.....but I'm pretty sure it'll only be once!


Tired and salty (even with a shower you still feel crazy salty), we made one final stop near the end of our journey at Mount Nebo, where the scriptures say Moses was told by God that he was looking out over the promised land. An obviously important site for Christians and Jews, the rough landscape was unexpected and when I looked out, I wondered how Moses felt seeing such a barren spot as the land promised to his people. Perhaps not his top pick. But now I feel like the one pouring salt on the wounds of millions.

Jordan - Petra

Jordan - Petra - July 26-29, 2008

My second on-foot border crossing (after the Tanzania/Kenya border) came not long after sunrise after a long overnight bus trip from Tel Aviv to the southern Israeli city of Eilat. The bus was filled with energetic Israeli youth, I suppose returning home after partying in Tel Aviv over the weekend. Patricia and I didn't like them much, or their music playing cell phones.

We took a taxi to the border, who dropped us off at 6am with a promise that the border would open up at 6:30. Right. As we waited with an odd collection of locals and backpackers, the desert sun started to warm things up and before long it was clear you didn't want to be sitting there too long without water.

Happily, the border opened on time and a few checkpoints combined with a couple hundred meters of walking was all it took. We were greeted in Jordan with the looming face of the royal family.

Unlike some of the other backpackers, I didn't actually take pictures at the border -- this is from Petra, but gives you an idea. Pictures at the border of any country are a bad idea. No need to give them any reason to detain you!

Petra Lives

Remember the scene from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (of course, not actually his last) where they finally find the hidden desert city built into the sandstone cliffs? That's Petra, and the magnificent location of the Holy Grail is called the Treasury. It's every bit the adventure that Junior makes it seem.

The approach to the city made it worth our stressful overnight trip. Initially, an easy hike from the road down a gentle slope, you begin to wonder what you've gotten yourself into when you arrive at the entrance - a towering sandstone gorge looms and you step in without a clue what will be around the corner. Down the path you can hear the clip-clop of donkeys, but all you do is look up at the cliffs and seriously hope they don't have flash floods in July.


The anticipation of entering the ancient city grows with every turn. And finally, a break in the cliffs comes and you catch of glimpse of the beauty of the Treasury.


The awe makes you feel like the Holy Grail could actually just lie behind those massive columns. I felt the same gasp of emotion as when looking out over Austria's Alps, standing in front of Michelangelo's David, or driving through New Hampshire's rolling hills in the Fall. Hard to describe. Perhaps just best shown. Amazing, as well, is how it can look so different in the changing daylight.








We continued wandering through the city, originally started about 2000 years ago by the Nabataeans, an "industrious Arab people...turning it into an important junction for the silk, spice and other trade routes that linked China, India and southern Arabia with Egypt, Syria, Greece and Rome." They built massive structures, but apparently lived in nomadic tents, as no dwellings can be found in the city. Petra is on basically every list of significant historical sights and if it had been better known by the Romans, probably would have been considered one of the Seven Ancient Wonders as well.

While the terrain of most of the city is flat, the heat during the day is beyond imagination. We started very early, but by the time we finished at 3pm we were completely knocked out, even after I'd been acclimatized to heat from a month in Africa. Definitely one place where you need to set your plans based on the progress of the sun. Our Lonely Planet described how you could get away from the crowds and climb to the top of the cliffs, so I set out to find us a pair of donkeys.

I think the heat got to my well developed bargaining skills, because in my eagerness to see it all I somehow agreed to an overpriced donkey ride that would take up the the morning and early afternoon of our second day touring the city. Never having ridden on a donkey before, I was a bit nervous about having one navigate the steep stone steps with my life in its hands. And we were only slightly relieved when our guide told us the names of our donkeys - Michael Jackson (mine) and Monica Lewinksi (Patricia's). Luckily for me, Michael was slow and steady, but Monica kept trying to race to the finish, much to her dismay. To Patricia's credit, she never panicked and we were rewarded with stunning views of the desert city that we would never have found on our own weary feet. For any aspiring photographer, Petra is a gold mine, one of the few times I felt that my little Canon camera didn't even come close to doing it justice.














As our asses clamored down the narrow steps in the severe early afternoon sun, I hoped memories of the heat and our exhaustion would fade and this experience of a lifetime would keep a positive spin. It has.

Plus, now Patricia can brag that she has survived a wild ride through the desert on Monica Lewinski.

Israel - Tel Aviv

Israel - Tel Aviv - July 25-26, 2008



Not normally nervous when arriving in a new country (anymore), I was definitely on edge when my plane landed at Ben Gurion Airport. I knew security would be intense and I was mostly prepared, except for one sizable oversight - my exit flight from Israel hadn't yet been booked. Of course, this isn't something I make a habit of doing, but in my rush and exhaustion from the past few weeks, this one slipped through. I realized it when I searched for the confirmation amongst my documents on the flight from Istanbul.

So I prepared to rant about the extend of my round-the-world trip and left the plane hoping I'd get to see the light of day. Now I know how people feel when they land at JFK for the first time.

Who Are You Really?

I was immediately stopped by a young and serious looking man as we disembarked. He asked if I was on my own and I explained that I was meeting a friend here from London who would be landing in a few hours, joining me for a week in the middle of my trip around the world.

Unimpressed, he said, "Well that's a long way to fly just to meet a friend."

To which I thought a classic line of my brother's, "Yeah...but I'm great."

Remembering that I was probably speaking to one of the best trained interrogators in the world, I opted for a slightly more tactful (and honest) approach, "Yes, you are right. I'm very grateful she can come along."

That seemed to work, and we moved on to the usual addresses of my hotels, plans of places to visit, etc. I braced myself for the dreaded evidence of a departure flight, but luckily I'd passed whatever test he was putting me through, and with a polite smile he sent me on my way. Phew.

The conversation then played out again twice more at immigration and again just before baggage claim. The staff was stern, but extremely polite, and I felt no animosity towards them. Israel is a country that has basically been at war since 1945. This is part of the price you pay when you visit, even if you are American.

Since we arrived on Friday afternoon, ALL public transport was shut down for the sabbath. So the normally cheap and efficient bus system was sadly unavailable, and I took an extremely expensive cab into Tel Aviv as the sun was setting. I was immediately impressed with the modern road system and large, beautiful buildings in the center of the city. But coming near the hotel, I got hints of what was to come...


No place I'd travelled to surprised me more than Tel Aviv. Its the beach, really, that makes it so wonderful.

Like a Sneaky Waikiki

Clearly the main focus for locals and tourists alike, the Mediteranian‎ beach is clean, warm and only steps away from most of the places in the city you want to visit. It's like Waikiki without all the honeymooners.


I met Patricia at the hotel, thrilled to see a familiar face that wasn't Tom (no offense, of course), and full of excitement to finally be in Israel. I'd read more about this country than perhaps any other, but as we walked along the waterfront, I realized most of it had been politics and strife, but I actually knew very little about the real people and their lives.

We found the people to be friendly, smart and attractive; the food was an excellent combination of local and international, all very fresh; and the public mini-buses, when they started again on Saturday night, were fast and useful. Plus, you can surf!


It was amazing to me that there was no sign of the fear and hatred we hear so much about in the news.

Patricia and I had an ambitious agenda for our week in Israel and Jordan, so sadly we were only able to spend a night and a day. But in that time we spent a few hours on the beach playing in the waves, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere of the open air bars, and taking in some of Tel Aviv's historical sights. I watched young entrepreneurs ducking out of the office for a few hours in the surf and felt like this was somewhere I could live. Imagine my mother gasping right now.