Amman, Jordan

Instead of taking the bus to Amman, we and two other travellers – Chris and Gregor, both from Canada – shared the cost of a car making a return journey there. The driver, Abu Mohammad, was a Palestinian with 11 children who had been interviewed by a journalist about five years ago and whose story was published in a book called ‘Jordan – into the Fire.’ Remarkably, I had borrowed that book from the Geelong Library and had read that story. Gregor and Chris took turns to read aloud from Abu’s copy and then Abu talked about the disastrous effect that the war in Iraq and other political decisions have had on the economy in Jordan. The three hour trip went quickly and Abu took us to a bus station in Amman’s suburbs where we met Najib, our first ever Couch Surfing host.

It was freezing cold and heaped snow lined every street. Only narrow sections had been cleared for cars to pass through. Najib welcomed us warmly and took us to his house where we had a room to ourselves with its own bathroom. The idea of Couch Surfing is that you can provide or receive hospitality at no cost, share experiences and learn about each other and each other’s countries and cultures. During 2007 we had 8 lots of Couch Surfers visiting us in Inverleigh and we found it a very rewarding and enriching experience. We had selected Najib carefully, looking at the references other people had left for him and at the profile that he had written. He and his son, Mohammad, have now hosted 25 times through Couch Surfing and Hospitality Club, which is similar. They were so friendly and considerate, provided us with advice and assistance for seeing Jordan and were such excellent and stimulating companions as we sat around over meals, photos and music discussing and joking about all kinds of topics.

We stayed with them for five nights and will keep in touch, hoping that they will one day make it to Australia.

Our first day in Amman was spent visiting the Roman theatre. Amman is a city about the size of Melbourne. It was big in the time of the Romans and was then known as Philadelphia. However, as in Petra, the Byzantine and Muslim eras followed, along with devastating earthquakes. For many years Amman was deserted and so most of the modern town has developed in the last 100 years – only 2000 people in the early 1900s and about two million now. The centre of the city follows the dry path of the river it was named for and is located between two hills in a very narrow valley. On one side, with the hill behind it, is an enormous Roman theatre,

and across the valley, easily within walking distance, the Roman Citadel sits on top of the hill with the pillars of the Temple of Hercules and the wall clearly visible against the sky. We had borrowed a guide book to Jordan and, in following its advice for those who like challenges, we walked from the theatre to the Citadel, climbing steps to change levels (sadly not the ones in the guide book since we found others that looked OK and only the smell when we were half way up told us their regular current day use),

and finally scrambling up between houses in what appeared to be people’s back yards. Imagine a hill terraced to allow for houses with 45 degree slopes between and about 5 layers of terraces before you reach the top.

Behind the last terrace, rubble (tossed over by the Romans and everyone else since) festooned the slope

and we climbed over it into another world – extensive ruins, ongoing Spanish Archaeological digs, and a museum with a finely sculpted marble hand on the steps that had come from a nine metre high statue of Archimedes.

A jarring note but entertaining - small boys did ask us if we had a lighter or any cigarettes and they rampaged over the site obviously without a thought for history but with a vigour that a Roman Commander would have admired.

Another hiccup – when we tried to enter the museum we didn’t have a ticket for the site since we had entered over the ramparts so we had to go down to the gate and enter again.

After a long ramble through the ruins we descended by some pristine steps and bought some freshly squeezed orange juice – at least ten oranges to the glass (yes, real glass) for about 1 and a half Jordanian Dinar – about $2.40 Aust. Then we went shopping in the fruit and vegetable market because we were making the evening meal.

Despite not being able to read Arabic and no-one speaking English except to say ‘Welcome to Jordan’, everyone was very helpful and allowed me to taste unknown items and assisted if we had problems with the smaller amounts of money. I was making Spinikopita and vegetables and salad – cheeses and herbs and spices and pastry as well as vegetables – so a bit crazy but I was courteously served with my two eggs and one onion etc. We asked a random shop assistant where to get a bus and, despite the fact that he could speak no English at all, he waited by the side of the road and then hailed the correct bus for us, even though it was moving along in the second lane of a busy road. Everyone goes out of their way to be helpful and, unlike in Egypt, there is no-one who is seeking payment or an opportunity to sell us something or extract money from us. The reason we didn’t know where to find the bus stop was that kind fellow passengers had got the bus driver to stop right at the Roman theatre in the morning instead of us having to walk back from the bus station!

An excursion to Jerash, North of Amman – the most complete Roman town outside of Italy – on a beautiful day of 22 degrees, let us experience the grand scale of public building and pomp in Roman times.

Grand colonnaded streets, processional staircases, fountains dedicated to Nymphs, Hadrian’s Gate (a little something knocked up to please Hadrian when he visited),

Temples to Zeus and Artemis, an oval terrace, two theatres and a chariot racing track (the Hippodrome, where races are still staged for tourists), markets, bridges – everything larger than any modern city planner would suggest.

I was enticed into putting my finger into the join in a column at the Temple of Artemis so that I could feel how the columns sway because they are built in such a way to allow for movement – from wind and to allow for less impact from minor earthquakes.

There are the ruins of several Byzantine churches and one had exquisite floor mosaics in very good condition – it was like coming upon a treasure in a place where all colour has long since disappeared.

The final surprise came as we approached the South Theatre. Were we really hearing the Skye Boat Song and Scotland the Brave played vigorously on the bagpipes? We were indeed and inside, in front of the imposing columns and carvings, a small band from the Jordanian Army – originally trained by the British and hence the pipes – was playing for donations.

One spot on the floor allowed for an outstanding echo and projection of our voices.

Sadly we didn’t know where the bus stop was since we had again hopped off at the ruins at an unofficial stop. This time a young Arabian accounting student said he was also going to Amman by bus and to follow him. The bad news was that the last bus had already left (4.30 pm). Our student suggested that we take a lift with a worker returning to Amman who charges about the same as the bus, and so five passengers piled into a black utility and set off to Amman. The time passed pleasantly, chatting about the student’s studies and family, and we tried not to be anxious about the fact that this car was doing the trip in a quarter of the time that the bus took. We were incredibly lucky that the student spoke sufficient English to help us, since we were dropped off in an unfamiliar part of Amman. He found the correct bus for us to get back to Najib’s and stayed with us until we were organised. The kindness of strangers made us reflect on what would happen in Australia in such circumstances, when someone does not have the language to follow verbal instructions. We learnt that we really need to find out when the last bus goes, where the bus stop is, to have destinations written in Arabic and always to leave more time than we think things will take.