Friendship Along the Trail to Umm Seyhoun

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.

On the trail from Petra to Umm Seyhoun.

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...

One of the several slot trails we encountered.

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.

Looking back at the Royal Tombs from the trail.

The Royal Tombs through another slot along the trail.

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.
 
Looking back on Petra Valley from the trail...While this is a nice image, a camera cannot capture Petra's majesty.
 
Brittany pointing back to the small town of Wadi Musa, the city from where tourists enter Petra.

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.

Coming up on a Nabataean Tomb. Look at that Liesegang Banding!

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.

A Nabataean Tomb en route to Umm Seyhoun. Just sitting there. Incredible.

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.
 
Rounding the corner and the last uphill haul to Umm Seyhoun. Notice the arch (upper left), tafoni, plants, and stratocumulus clouds. A spectacular sight!
 
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!

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.

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