The day in Petra began like other days: walking through the
siq
in early morning light, coming out at the Treasury to find it devoid of people –
only a couple camels, their owner, and a local “street sweeper” (one of the people who comes in before Petra opens to make sure the grounds are clean). Petra’s magnificence still
almost overwhelms me every time. And even more so when the spirit of the Fulbright program occurs – that “...promotion of goodwill...”
they mention.
With only one day in Petra this time, our plan was to do
what most single-day tourists do: wander through the main valley on the way to the
Monastery, spend some time there, and then spend the rest of the day wandering
around other various monuments in the valley. We stopped by our Bedouin friend’s
tent in the valley to chat quickly, and let her know we’d be back later that
afternoon to purchase items from her shop. She was super welcoming as always,
and had tea ready for us – as if she expected us. She makes the best tea. As we
sat and sipped our fresh-off-the-fire tea, we all talked with her. “You must
come to my house for Magloubah,” she said. This is not the first time she had
offered, and although we had a full day planned and an even fuller schedule of
travel and exploration the days following, we obliged. But only if we could
learn how she makes it. “Of course!” she said, delighted.
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On the trail from Petra to Umm Seyhoun.
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She said her son would meet us at her tent at 4pm, and we could
walk to her house, where she’d begin cooking about 5pm or so. “It’s just a
short walk, no worries,” she said. After spending the day hiking around Petra,
seeing all the biggies and many of the lesser-known sites, we ended up back at
her tent at 4pm sharp, as promised. We sat inside her tent, sipping tea again
and chatting with her son – currently a captain in the military – while she
closed up shop.
Side Note on Bedouins in Petra:
Bedouins have been living in Petra
for centuries. We know a young Bedouin who was born in one of the caves. But
when it became a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1985, part of the agreement was
that Bedouins wouldn’t live there. So the village of Umm Seyhoun was
built overlooking Petra to accommodate the semi-nomadic Bedouins. Of course,
displacing an entire people from their ancestral lands is complicated, and they
are still trying to work out all the kinks. Most of the tribe have shops in
Petra, and the Tourist Police drive them into “work” and back “home” every day.
Still, many of the tribe choose to live in the desert instead of the village,
even though they have more modern amenities in the village. Even their houses
are simply-furnished like their desert tents: mats around the walls of the “living
room” with a place for eating in the center. Sure, there is a more modern
kitchen, indoor plumbing, and electricity – even an ultra-modern solar
farm for the village. But even with all the new amenities, they prefer the lifestyle of their
ancestors. I can’t say I blame them. There’s something magical about deserts.
Just ask Lawrence (of Arabia) and countless others who get lost in a desert’s grandeur.
The “short walk” was more like a trek. Uphill then downhill,
past caves and Nabataean-carved facades and extraordinary
Liesegang Banding,
on a trail I may never walk again in my life. After a long day hiking around
Petra, our legs were tired. We were tired. Even though I knew the evening would
be a treasured experience, a hot shower and comfy bed sounded really nice –
especially when I saw the last hill into the village was steep and sandy. But
the views were well-worth the muscular strain. I took lots of pictures of this
stunningly fantastic landscape...
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One of the several slot trails we encountered.
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Dripping with sweat, we finally made it to the house. It was
a calm, cool evening, and the stars were just beginning to show themselves. After
being greeted by the whole family, we took off our shoes before entering the
house, as Bedouin tradition dictates. But even before that, we could smell the wondrous
aroma of Arabic spices: cinnamon, cardamom, curry, pepper, nutmeg…they use them
all and then some. We were shown to the living room, but quickly called to the
kitchen to observe (and help a bit with) the cooking. With each added ingredient,
our mouths watered, and once the rice was finally added to the mixture, we had
time to relax.
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| Looking back at the Royal Tombs from the trail. |
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| The Royal Tombs through another slot along the trail. |
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One of the sons dragged a couple mattresses to the roof for us,
and I laid down, resting my tired back and feet, and just stared into the sky.
As my eyes got used to the inky darkness, pinholes of light started to appear
more frequently. I identified several constellations, a satellite, and a couple
falling stars while we chatted with each other, discussing lifestyles, choices,
peoples, and landscapes.
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| Looking back on Petra Valley from the trail...While this is a nice image, a camera cannot capture Petra's majesty. |
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| Brittany pointing back to the small town of Wadi Musa, the city from where tourists enter Petra. |
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Not many non-Bedouins get to hang out in this village, so it
was quite a honor to even be invited. The entire family was there: sons, daughters,
wives-in law (as per Bedouin tradition, the bride and groom live with the groom’s
family), and their new four-month-old pride and joy, Malaak. Such a
little cutie she is. And everyone doted on her. All. The. Time. Just lovely.
After a while, another son came up to the roof and told us
dinner was ready, and we scampered hungrily down the stairs. The “reveal” of
magloubah is something you have to see. In Arabic,
magloubah means “upside-down”.
The point with the dish is to layer everything in a pretty pattern, and then
flip it on a platter – kind of how we make an upside-down cake in the US. The
presentation/flip was terrific, and we all wandered into the living room, where
the tray was set in the middle for all to partake. With our hands. Well, with
our right-hand only, as is customary. During the meal, there was much laughing,
talking, and passing around of the baby. (Did I mention she is so very cute?!) It
was wonderful to share in such a splendid experience.
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A Nabataean Tomb en route to Umm Seyhoun. Just sitting there. Incredible.
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After a couple hours, with full tummies and hearts, it was
time to take our leave. There are no taxis in
Umm Seyhoun, but the
family had arranged for a friend to drive us back to our car which was parked
near the entrance to Petra. When I say “arranged”, what I mean is “paid”. Not
only did they cook a VERY large family meal for us, but they also paid for our
ride back to Wadi Musa! When I say VERY large, I mean at least 15 people. Maybe
10 JD and four chickens doesn’t seem like much, but it
is for many
people here. Especially since tourism has decreased by ~80% overall in the
country. We tried to pay. Really. We tried hard. But our hosts would not let
us. “Next time,
inshallah,” was there response. You can’t buy that sort
of kindness. And to pay for that type of experience just cheapens it.
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| Rounding the corner and the last uphill haul to Umm Seyhoun. Notice the arch (upper left), tafoni, plants, and stratocumulus clouds. A spectacular sight! |
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| Nearing the village of Umm Seyhoun at twilight. One last wadi to traverse, down one side and up the other. The company (and dinner!) was well worth the trek! |
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The generosity of Jordanians – whether Bedouin, Palestinian,
Syrian, or some other heritage – never ceases to amaze me. Perhaps humbling is
a more appropriate word. Yes. Humble. I am humbled every single time by
Jordanian hospitality. I fight back tears each time. Of course, like all
peoples, there are always a few who give the rest a bad name. But by and large,
in all my travels, I have never experienced such a welcoming, wonderful, and
resourceful people who are happy to give you whatever they have, with no
expectation for reciprocity. They’re just that genuine. They seem to know what’s
most important. Sure, beautiful rugs, ornate handmade jewelry, and delicious
food are all nice. What counts in the end, however, is friendship. Not how many
friends, or which friends, but friendship – the creation of a close personal
bond between entities. The kind that family members tend to have. So far, we continue to gain it here at seemingly every turn. And after all, that’s what the Fulbright program is meant to promote: friendship.
