A Mountain Road from the Dead Sea Highway to Amman

After our final resort-and-explore day, we headed back to Amman via Mukawir and Madaba. As I mentioned in the previous blog, geomorphology in Jordan is fantastic. Folds, faults, hot springs, grabens, lava flows...the region is filled with textbook examples. The drive from the Dead Sea highway to Madaba via Mukawir (Highway 817) is quite the road. Go here, and look at the road just below the Balqua-Madaba Governates line (it should be the center of the map). That’s the road we drove—a zig-zagging road with a handful of 8% grades, but also a couple 15% grades. No typo. Fifteen-percent grades (I almost titled this entry “15%”). As we were driving up one of the steeper grades, my father-in-law said, “I can see why the King likes to ride motorcycles…this would be fun!” Indeed. It would be a great place to have a bike. We passed four or five cars on the entire road to Mukawir. A lonely, deserted, but well-maintained road. And in the center of it all, Ma’in hot springs resort with a hot, hotter, and hottest pool. No warm or cool. The water temperature varies from 40 degrees Celsius to, according to the official visit Jordan website, 63 Celsius (that’s 145 Fahrenheit!). Though we didn’t have time to stop this time, a visit will occur in the future, inshallah.

Usually there are two main reasons for visiting the village of Mukawir. First, it’s said to be where Salome danced for King Herod so he would give her John the Baptist’s head. On a platter, as the story goes (see the New Testament story). Second, it’s home to the Bani Hamida project: a worthwhile endeavor to encourage weavers to keep the art alive. Sheering the sheep, spinning the wool into yarn, dying it (naturally), and then weaving it on a lap loom, they produce some truly breathtaking rugs. Certainly worth their price, and then some. And they last forever, apparently. We are definitely enjoying ours! J

Economic side note:

Jordan is a cash-based society. Not only that, but very few folks will take anything other than Jordanian Dinars (or JD, as it’s called here). This may come as a surprise to some folks who are accustomed to the Almighty Dollar, Strong British Pound, or the Economically-charged Euro. Plus, Jordan is not an inexpensive country for those who like to shop. Amman prices are similar to Denver, it seems. But, just like Denver, there are places that are extravagant and places that aren’t. A quality restaurant meal in Amman can set you back 15-20 JD (~US$22-30, without drinks), while a street corner shop might be 4-5 JD for a basic (yet scrumptious) meat-and-rice meal. There are cheaper options, just like there are MUCH more expensive options. Still, cash is preferred and, even at establishments that advertise taking credit cards, the machines are often broken or, in smaller shops, the banks charge an outrageous processing fee, so the store ends up charging you more for purchasing with the card than paying in cash.

Even at the dentist or doctor, you see them, they perform whatever procedure, and then you are given a bill, to be paid at that time and in cash. In the end, you get just as good care as in the States (most professionals here are trained in the US or UK), but don’t have to worry about insurance premiums. And prices are reasonable.

Saying goodbye to the Bani Hamida ladies, we headed to Madaba. The road from Mukawir to Madaba seems like you’re driving on top of the world. It’s also a bit reminiscent of driving through the Italian countryside in Tuscany or Umbria: olive groves here, exposed white rock there, small houses with stone fences scattered across the landscape. And with the intermittent rain sprinkles, it created a pleasant, relaxing atmosphere to the drive. The town of Madaba is quite the sight. Old and new buildings mixed in a jumble, just like religion there. Madaba hosts a large population of Christians, as well as Muslims. In fact, a few of the shop owners we talked to were in the midst of Bible study (seeing the Old and New Testaments in Arabic script was quite neat!). A nice juxtaposition during the Call to Prayer.

Most people visit Madaba for the Mosaic map of the Holy Land, discovered in 1897 under a floor at the Church of St. George. It represents a stellar example of the early “art” of cartography. The visitors center has a very well-displayed explanation of it, as well as Madaba’s importance throughout history. It’s worth the couple JD entrance fee if for nothing more than a nice history lesson and the correct use of geographic scale (a pet peeve of mine, because people—even professionals in the field—misuse it all the time, but I digress…).

Mosaics of Christian apostles, but with Arabic script integrated into them.

Before heading to the Map though, we stopped at Herat Jdoudna for a nice, traditional lunch. It’s a former historic house-turned handicraft shop and restaurant. The atmosphere was nice, the food good (as all Jordanian food is!), and it was warm and dry (it had started to rain quite hard as we were pulling into Madaba). After lunch, we headed to the Church of St. George (a Greek Orthodox church), and took our time looking closely at all the mosaic work, original murals, and altar panels. One mosaic in particular caught our eye. It was another reminder of something often misunderstood: not all Arabs are Muslim—just like not all Americans are Christians, not all Israelis are Jews, not all Japanese are Buddhist, and not all Indians are Hindi (I noted this, albeit briefly, in a previous blog).

While we were ogling at the artistry and devotion in the main Church, the caretaker whispered to me that if we wanted, he would take us to the “first church”. Laysh lah? We followed him to the altar, and walked down some steps to a small cavern. This, he said, was the original church, before the current structure was built. What was even more fascinating, however, were the icons present, including a unique painting:

This painting depicts Mary holding Baby Jesus. You see Mary’s arms and Jesus’ arms, but then there’s that extra blue-colored arm. This is, supposedly, the arm of God, enfolding them.

As we reentered the Church from the back cavern, the Call to Prayer had just begun. It was a wonderful auditory experience to hear that, while a Greek Orthodox chant was playing softly in the Church. Not something that happens all that often. After the solemnity of St. George’s Church, we headed back to our car, wandering through the souks, chatting with shopkeepers, having tea with them, and looking at rugs and other baubles. The melding of religion in Madaba is wonderful. Each religion respecting the other, looking out for each other, and just being good people. Simply delightful. And the map’s not bad either:

The famous Madaba mosaic map (that thing on the ground). A truly stunning piece of artistry that is also locationally (mostly) correct.