Petra

I like antiquity and history, and I like to explore urban areas. Instead of walking the usual path home, take a right at the crossroads and see what happens. If you find nothing or a deserted place, what was there at some other point in time? Petra - Jordan’s most famous tourist attraction - is always swarming with people, but it offered me the thrill of just those thoughts.

Petra is, in fact, an entire city. You’re guided through it along a path. And although it is busy with tourists you’re in absolute awe of the surroundings, soon forgetting all about the chitchat and footsteps around you. The Siq, a gorge of a few kilometers long with steep walls shooting up beside you, guides you to a sandy plaza, well-known from all tourist pictures. The Treasury, a huge Corinthian style temple cut from the rose-red rock, rises up in front of you here. And this is just the start. The trail continues on to a valley with houses and temples cut from stone on both sides. Most striking were the caves, the steps and the colours. Caves could be found everywhere in the city, and I entered a couple; basically, most of them are squarely cut rooms with high ceilings, some of them with an elaborate entrance. Also, you find carved steps everywhere, sometimes in the most amazing locations. How people ever got up there absolutely baffled me. Finally, the colour of the rock is stunning. In essence the site is a rosy red, but especially where the outer layers of rock were cut away, an unendingly more brilliant spectacle of colourful lines and patterns may be seen. Beautiful.

As I experienced when walking through Pompeii, I find myself intensely trying to imagine the city in all its glory, filled with people and carts, filled with sounds other than the snapping of camera shutters. Some 20,000 Nabataean souls working and living in their regional trade capital on the edge of the desert, supplied by an intricate network of waterways and trade routes. A Roman-style theater holding 4,000 spectators, enjoying theater and drama. It was harder to imagine than a living Pompeii because of the difference in preservation and my lack of knowledge of ancient Arab cultures, but the living city did appear in my mind’s eye. Simply amazing!

Click on the Flickr account on the right hand side for some pictures!

 

Jordan blogs

Time for blogger RESTECP.

Before I came to Jordan, I decided to check out the Jordanian blogging world. I was pleased to see that it was quite big, largely Amman-based, and that it had a lot of precious information about life in Amman. This was exactly the information that I was looking for. Personal recommendations for restaurants? Any new stores opening? What is the best place for wireless internet? What are the places no tourist ever goes, but are a must-see? Where can I find the perfect store for this-and-that?

I’ll point you to a couple of blogs that have provided me with a lot of information over the past month and a half.

And last but certainly not least: an Arab blogging network, Toot. Great stuff.

Thanks to And Far Away for those pictures

 

Snow!

Welcome to the seven mountains of Amman. Last report featured a hot spring day, this one will highlight snow, hail, wind, and lot of rain. On Wednesday, a cold front rolled in. Rumour had it that it might bring snow on Thursday. I didn’t believe it. Come on, I was Amman for God’s sake. Right?

Wrong.

I got was texted at 8:15, telling me that work was off due to the weather. What weather exactly, I wondered? I looked out of my window, seeing a light dusting of snow and some rain. Not the weather to walk around in your shorts, but definitely not the weather to cancel a whole day of productivity either. But as I wandered out to get breakfast, it started to snow more heavily. Some random observations.

• With heavy rain or snow, Ammani public life stops. Shops close, offices close, ministries close.
• With heavy rain or snow, Ammani streets become rivers. Where’s the drainage? I’m wading here, guys.
• Kids make snow men from an inch of snow. It’s an art, I guess.
• Drivers tend to stay off the streets in bad weather. Those still driving are taxis or just plain mad.

It didn’t snow that much during the day. Mainly wet snow, disappearing on the roads creating mud. But at sunset, the show started. Roads become ice skating rinks, the snow thickened and you could see cars skidding in turns. Then in the morning, it was all gone, like nothing had happened. In conclusion, another nice surprise in Amman.

Check out the Flickr box on the right for photos.

 

Springtime stroll

First fantastic Spring day. It’s 25 degrees Celsius, clear skies, light breeze, and I just walked around the block for my lunch break. From my office neighbourhood, mainly consisting of villas and luxury apartment buildings, I crossed the busy street into the commercial district of Sweifiyeh. The base of Sweifiyeh is a block grid of 5-floor apartment buildings. Add long galleries instead of sidewalks, for the necessary shade. Then add a bunch of tiny shops with local brands. Let that simmer for a while. Then, add a lot, and I mean a lot, of chaotically placed signs indicating shop names, owner names, cars for sale, and traffic signs. As coup de grace, add two table spoons of extremely chaotic traffic, triple double parking and a pinch of honking. There you have it. Bon appetite! It’s a dish that may need some getting used to, but once you take a bite, you’re hooked.

Furthermore, I’m sad to say that my wireless connection at home is absolute bollocks. It started out fine, it was fast, it was promising. The problem is that whenever there is a problem, it takes ages to fix and a lot of calls to the landlord, who in turn has to call some shop. So consequently, I haven’t had an Internet connection at home for a week now. So please, again forgive me my slow updates, but be aware that they’re in the pipeline.

Time to return to my work! I’ve got a thesis that’s 38 pages already, and I’m working on the last bit of literary review. At this stage, I’m traveling around Amman a lot to meet with experts on the subject of Corporate Social Responsibility. I’m using their thoughts and critiques to enhance my own view on the concept of CSR. I’m happy to report that it’s all going quite well!

 

King Hussein Mosque

Yesterday, I went into a mosque for the first time. Abdallah was my tour guide for the day, a true Mexican-Jordanian and thus fully deserving the nickname I give him — ese, and as we sped through the traffic around the big malls (City Mall, Mekka Mall, Carrefour) up 8th Circle, he told me about his family business and decided that I should be introduced. His father has a little plant shop next to City Mall called Bloomz, which imports most of its products from the Netherlands; we had a cup of tea and I was shown around to everybody. We walked around back to the main entrance of City Mall, now in its final stages of construction and partly opened to the public. Abdallah’s family actually owns the construction site and the huge mall buildings, plus some million-dollar villas on the hill overlooking the site.

So, back to that mosque. I went to the King Hussein mosque up the road from 8th Circle. A huge thing, and wow, it was beautiful. It holds up to 3000 people praying inside and on Fridays, the mosque itself and all the surrounding area (all white marble plateaus with well-kept gardens) is packed with some 8000-10000 people. I was not allowed to take pictures, so a description should suffice. The inside was humbly empty, yet subtly decorated. Red Turkish carpet, warmed by central heating, covered the entire surface of the mosque; 8 wooden doors provided entrance into the central area. None of the doors had any nails or glue in them, yet each one was beautifully engraved with flowery ornaments. In the center of the mosque was the sheikh’s area, from where he preaches to those gathered. Above this small area was the mosque’s dome: a 5-ton golden chandelier was hanging from the ceiling. Here and there, small crooked wooden tables held two or three Qur’ans. We walked around for a while and then left, just in time to see the sun set behind the hills of the King’s Palace in the distance.

Incredible.

 

al Makdonaldz

Amman is quite the American franchise. Not that this is anything peculiar of course. It fits in a line of other countries all having adopted the American brands of fast food, coffee bars and wholesale stores. But to me, as a Dutchman, it’s a feast of brand recognition (from American television shows! ;)) and a lot of brand discovery. In Holland, we only have McDonald’s, Burger King, KFC, and Subway. Correct me if I’m wrong, readers.

If you know me just a tad bit, you’ll know that I love Starbucks. Everytime I’m abroad, I visit a Starbucks. They have a great one here near Abdoun Circle, with excellent facilities. Actually it’s the best one I’ve ever been to. And yes, the coffee and food are overpriced, but it’s the overall experience that counts. Nevermind this marketing babble. Furthermore, Amman houses ChiliWays (mmmm great chicken burgers), Hardee’s, Popeye’s, American Bakehouse (fantastic bread), and all the obligatory stuff like McDonald’s, BK, KFC, etc. Other market segments are also represented. I saw a Radioshack near 6th Circle.

Yet, there are also the great local and regional franchises. I’m a big fan of the Lebanese chain of Casper & Gambini’s. They make great fajitas for lunch. And yesterday, my all-time favourite icecream parlour (van der Poel IJs in Hengelo and Enschede, Holland) was thrown back into second place by a local Amman parlour. Nutella ice cream. WOW.

 

Nightmare on Abu Hassan al-Manoffi street

Imagine this.

It’s the first morning you wake up in a strange city. You don’t know where you are, and frankly, you’re only concerned with where you’re going. Your office.

You open your door and find that you’re surrounded by fog. Pale sunlight manages to creep through, creating an eery spectacle of light and water particles. Then, softly, in the distance, from a source unknown to you, you hear this tune. I remember my primary reactions were, ‘What the hell is that?’ followed by ‘Ok, so when is Chuckie going to slit my throat?’.

After a day or two of getting jumped by this sound in various parts of the city, I discovered the source. It’s a little pick-up truck driving around, selling gas cilinders to people. They used to just have a megaphone and scream about the quality of their gas, but this was forbidden by the government. Instead, music was allowed. So they came up with the tune. The only thing you can say for it, is that certainly is most recognizable.

Note: the wav file has been embedded in a ppt file. Just run it, it plays automatically.

 

My Saturday is your Sunday

Today’s weather: clear blue skies, pretty warm (16C), with a light breeze. Eeeexcellent. Yet, I’m inside right now with a great wireless connection at Books@Cafe, spending my Saturday — last day of the weekend. Books is a restaurant and a bar in the heart of Amman, on Bin Omar al-Khattab street, also known as Mango Street. Note that this last bit of information does not matter to any of the taxi drivers around. Basically, these guys only know how to drive to shopping malls and major hotels. This can be a bit of a pain, as you have to guide them yourself (not a viable option when you’ve been in the city for 2 weeks) or you have to call one of your more knowledgeable Arab friends to allow for an explanation of the route over the phone. Sometimes, I wonder if the taxi drivers just play ignorant to buy time and distance and with that, some extra Dinars. During the day they’re stuck to meters (getting you around the city for 1 or 2 Jordanian Dinars) but during the night they use their own prices. Welcome to the wonderful world of haggling.

Yesterday I met up very early in the morning (07:30 – early, considering I had a rough night with little sleep on Thursday) with a colleague, Layla. We were both inspired by last week’s bike tour of the Jordan Valley and decided to tag along with a few more. Yesterday’s route covered the same part of the Jordan valley as last time, but the wind had picked up considerably and made the trip a bit harder. Again though, the scenery was mind boggling. Pictures to come. While cycling through the agricultural parts of Jordan, you’re looking back at the mountains hiding Amman and at the West Bank with the city of Jericho in the middle. The farming people you encounter are very simple, speak no real English and live in Bedouin tents on the land, surrounded by their livestock and well-dressed children (Layla: “My God, is that kid naked?”).

Today’s an easy, relaxing day. I think I’m going to check out one of the walking routes mentioned in the Lonely Planet guide to Amman, taking me through the gold souk (the traditional Arab marketplace) and the downtown area.

 

Night time highlights

Work hard, play hard.

Every weekday begins with an 8 hour working day, followed by an evening packed (19:00 - 00:00) with social activities. It’s a blast though. I’ve been traveling around the city a lot in order to see all the different hang outs, such as Nai (world famous, Oriental, royal, luxurious lounge club), Vinaigrette (a wonderful restaurant in the penthouse of the Howard Johnson hotel in Shmeisani, with an amazing view over Amman), Blue Fig (a very original restaurant/club in Abdoun), Starbucks (for those of you who know me, this makes absolute sense), Books@Cafe (great cappuccino and wifi, guaranteed easy Saturday morning), Fakhr el Din (luxurious restaurant with great Arabic dishes) and Kanabaye (gayest salsa club in town, serving a very mediocre amount of whiskey in a lemonade glass). All great hang outs with their own taste in music and clientele.

The bad thing is that a lot of the upper class clubs require early reservations for a table, because everything is based on the fact that you would really really want to sit down – and enjoy the narguila, the hubbly bubbly. Everything here is loungy. I haven’t been to a club yet that only had just a bar, a DJ booth and a dance floor.

Tomorrow is weekend. Let’s have a drink and dance. I’ll make the reservations!

 

Teleporting my laundry

Look at my nifty washing machine. If I turn enough dials and pull enough levers, my laundry might be teleported to Alpha Centauri Prime. What year is it?

On another note, I went cycling in the Jordan Valley yesterday. Twenty degrees Celsius, surrounded by beautiful nature and lovely people, my collegues. We biked around for about 2 hours, then headed back to a farm and had a nice lunch. After a game of Villagers & Wolves (yesssss), we drove back to Amman by bus. At night, I played football with Mohamad and kicked Jordanian butt in cooperation with a Brazilian guy.

More to come soon!