Thursday, April 19th, 2007
12:07 a.m. Arriving in Jordan
I am writing to you from the library at America Center for Oriental Studies in Amman, Jordan where we are staying. It is almost 12 midnight here. We have just gotten in and had some leftovers in the kitchen. The manager was kind enough to loan us a t-shirts to sleep in, a new tooth brush and tooth paste and even a few other very personal items since our luggage did not arrive with us. It may be a few days before it arrives. A plane comes in from Chicago each evening so if it arrives late tomorrow they will probably not deliver our luggage until the following day...if it arrives at all! The thing is, we were stranded in the plane on the Chicago runway for about an hour because our steering went out and we were waiting to be towed. Instead, maintenance was able to fix it after about an hour and then we had to rush from the domestic airport to the international airport which involved a lot of walking, moving side walks and trains. We made it but our luggage didn't. It was supposed to be transferred automatically but obviously there wasn't enough time.
So I've been traveling about 2 days and already have stories to tell. I had a very nice conversation with a Palestinian named, Majid, this a.m. on the plane and also with an Indian doctor whose name was more complicated. After landing it took quite a while to get a Visa and go through customs and then search for our bags which were not there. I have to give a compliment to the Royal Jordanian airline which paid us nicely for baggage delay. I have never known that sort of treatment before.
My first impressions of Amman, Jordan which I have only seen in the dark while disoriented and jet lagged is that it is modern, clean and the people are friendly.
12:18 a.m. Jordan, day 2
We began our day with conversation about various aspects of the Iraqi situation. As others staying at the American Center for Oriental Research joined us at the breakfast table our conversation broadened. We met a man who teaches Comparative Religion at a seminary in Austin. He is writing a book on Islam to help explain it to Christians in a unique way to help build tolerance. We met a Fulbright Scholar studying archeology from ancient times, a woman writing her dissertation on fundamentalism in Islam and others I did not catch enough of their story to recite but each seemed to be a scholar of some sort which is indeed the reason this facility exists..
In the afternoon we met with our Iraqi translator named, Amjad, who is himself an Iraqi refugee. First we visited the Webdah School which is a school program and family center for Iraqi refugees in Jordan. A lady from the U.S. named, Claudia Lefko, seemed to be in charge at this time and had helped start it a few months ago reportedly with $75.00 raised by a U.S. Brownie troop!
According to their literature there are as many as one million Iraqis living in Jordan. They have fled from the violence in Iraq. According to the UN High Commission for Refugees estimates, we can assume half of them are children. The care and protection of refugee children is a recognized priority for many international aide organizations because:
Children are vulnerable. Children are dependent. Children are developing. Children cannot wait for stability. Their developmental needs demand our attention in good times and in bad. When basic needs for safety, food, health care and education are not being met we become concerned and ask: What can we do? The Webdah School is a response. It is an informal, art-based program in the Webdah neighborhood in Amman.
Here at the Webdah school we met an Iraqi artist named, Sandir, who also teaches at the school, and a professional Iraqi singer named Simor, who performed a song for us. I caught it on my recorder and will post it with other audio jewels when I'm back in the U.S. The lyrics were translated to us and it was a sad song about missing his homeland.
Amjad took us to his apartment next. There we met his wife and two young children, Carla and Dina. His wife served us chai. We talked a bit and Amjad and Sandir took us to met another family of Iraqi refugees. The man repaired generators in Bagdad for our military but after he discovered he was being followed and was being threatened he fled with his family to Jordan. He left everything behind. His wife,.Sundis, was a hair dresser and loves to cut hair. I, half joking and half sincere asked if she still cut hair and said, "I need help." She volunteered very gladly to cut my hair and I took her up on her offer. She washed my hair, sat me down and began snipping. She seemed very pleased to be doing this and truthfully my hair was in very bad shape so it was good for both of us and a bit of a bonding experience. Peggy, our professional photographer from Austin took several pics of this experience which she will share with me and I'll post those as well as others from the trip later on. The children, Nawras,age 8, and Naura, age 4, seemed to enjoy this unusual and good hearted visit. The little girl, Naura is the "cover girl" on literature about the Wabdah school.
Next we visited Majad, who was a refrigerator engineer in Bagdad and his wife Maisaa. After 10 of his friends' children were kidnapped by gangs for ransom he decided it was time to leave. He has three small children: Miran, Carol and Karam (which means "generosity").
Our last visit was with Ayad an industrial engineer with a technology degree/certificate. He shares as apartment with Zena, his sister, who also has a certificate in technology. He says he worked for the United Nations Commission for Human Settlement and then the United Nations Development Program. He was responsible for distributing diesel fuel in Iraq. The MEHDI military gang tried to steal fuel to sell on the black market. He was threatened, called a traitor because he was working for the "infidels." He mentioned teaching his sister to use an AK 47 for protection which is a common practice in Iraq. He and his sister fled to Jordan with their dog Benji who is deaf and blind from a car bomb. Ayad also has shrapnel in his neck from the same explosion.
When Ayad was asked if he was able to get a Visa anywhere in the world he told us that Pakistan offered him one....if he memorized the Koran and went into NUCLEAR engineering. He said he just laughed.
All the Iraqi refugees we interviewed today happened to be Christian. All agreed that the U.S. could help by increasing the number of VISAS for Iraqis. A lot of good talent is going to waste and a lot of tension is building in the few countries that have been willing to take a substantial number of refugees. Jordan's borders are now closed. No more Visas are given. Compare this: 202 visas were given to Iraqis last year by the U.S. while millions were sheltered by other countries.
Tomorrow we visit Iraqi Muslim refugees.
Friday, April 20th, 2007
8:03 p.m. Jordan, day 3
Today, our third day here, we finally got our luggage. We were very happy to be able to change our clothes. Because we knew the luggage would be arriving this a.m. we got a late start on the day's activities.
Around 12:00 we met up with our translator, Amjad, who took us on a long and steep walk to the older part of town. Today being holy day, shops were closed although there were makeshift shops in front of the closed shops selling a wide variety of merchandise. It was very crowded and there was much more traditional dress in this part of town. Sermons were pouring out of loud speakers and could be heard many blocks from the mosques.
We walked to the ancient Roman ruins which included an acropolis, an ampitheatre, remnants of a bath house, many Corinthian columns and walls. It was extremely interesting and we had an elderly guide we could barely understand but enjoyed his unique presentation. No kidding, in ancient times this city was known as Philadelphia. Check it out.
We then hired a car which took us to a place where they "restored" fish. It actually was a fish restaurant with pools of live fish. You pick the ones you want and they clean and cook them for you. There was a kiva style oven where flat bread dough was stuck to the sides and then peeled off when done. The restaurant turned out to be too crowded and we wound up at a place called "Butchery and Cafeteria." Here we had a variety of kebob, grilled chicken, hummus, falafel, pickles and bread. After we ate we bought sweets for the families we would be visiting.
The first house we visited was a slum that should not have been standing but was being rented for 45 J.D. per month. It stank of mold, vermin and human waste. Outside of a tiny area that served as kitchen and a tiny shower it consisted of a damp living area about 15 by 15 feet. Layers of paint were peeling from the walls and ceiling and there were chunks missing from the walls here and there. There were no windows and only one bare light bulb. This was the living room and bedroom for Hussein age 35, his wife, Hayam, age 30 and their 4 small children. Haider, age 4 had been severely injured by a bomb blast in Iraq. His body was covered in deep scars. The German magazine, Stern, included pictures of the boy on a story about the refugee crisis. Hayam, his mother, was busy at the market place selling cigarettes, Kleenex, clippers and various other trinkets spread out on a blanket. Since her family is here illegally she is at some risk of being caught but it was told to us that the risk is much greater if Hussein tries to work so he stays with the children all day. He says he and the children never go outside. One of his children has a heart condition. All of them were barefooted in the foul dampness. They are Shia Muslim who fled Sadr City for fear of their lives. We also met Hussein's uncle who lived next door in a space half the size of his nephew and just as bad.
Our most treasured visit today was with another Shia family in a larger but poor apartment. It was kept as well as possible and there were windows, a living room, a sleeping room, a kitchen and W.C. The man of the house was Dhiaa, age 35, who had worked for RTI: International Development and Democratization / Democracy Dialogue Activities. He had been a team leader for 10 months in the local governance program funded by the U.S. Agency for International Development employing 1500 citizens throughout Iraq. He had glowing letters of recommendations from several U.S. officials all of which did him no good. His life was threatened by Sunni groups and when they sprayed his car with bullets he fled the country with his family. He has a lovely wife and four children. The oldest daughter, Noor, age 15,is the bread winner for the family. She works long hours every day (illegally) at a print shop where she is abused and is paid about half what a Jordanian would receive. She says her life is only "work, sleep and eat" and she very much wants to go to school which is not possible for her here. When I asked her how she was treated at work she pulled up her sleeve and showed me bruises and scratches all over her arm. When I asked what happened she teared up and said, "I cannot talk about the Jordanians."
Dhiaa told us they fled Iraq with only the clothes on their backs and one tiny suitcase. They had enjoyed a middle class lifestyle. They were educated and the children had been going to school in Iraq. Noor talked to me in English and my information from her was straight from her mouth.
Dhiaa said their parents had tried to cross the border not long after them but they were turned away and had to sleep in their cars. Meanwhile rich Iraqis are still able to buy their way in.
As we became more friendly and open with each other, Mohammad, age 13, Ahamad, age 11 and Anas, age 6, bounced around us using the bits of English they knew. They were as charming as any children could be. The two youngest did gymnastics on a door frame missing its transom window. At one point the lovely woman of the house got the idea to dress us up in "hijab issalat Islami" which is a total covering of the body with only some of the face exposed. We all enjoyed this immensely and took many pictures. As we were still in this dress, prayer time came around and they got out their rugs and went through evening prayers as we sat quietly behind in our pious garb.
Our visit lasted several hours with glasses of chai, moving words and heartache as well as a bonding with comic relief and genuine concern. We felt frustrated that we could not do more. At least we are telling you about it. Maybe with growing awareness the U.S. people will push for more visas for these valuable, educated, trained, gentle people who risked their lives and all their belongings working for various U.S. agencies and ended up illegals with no rights, property or legal way to make a living. Currently the U.S. is not allowing them visas....and the refugee crisis worsens each day.
Saturday, April 21st, 2007
8:50 p.m. Jordan, day 4, Petra
Today was devoted to a visit to the most incredible ancient site of Petra which is soon to be included in the great ancient wonders of the world. To give you some idea what it looked like think of "Indiana Jones" because that's where a lot of the movie was filmed...that is, anything to do with colossal rock structures. Here is one of many sites with a lot of info and pictures:
http://nabataea.net/walk.html It was a 3 hour ride each way and a 3 or 4 mile walk through the ruins. Okay, take that back. Carla and I rode in a one horse buggy driven by a talkative Bedouin most of the way back. Please visit the website above to get a taste of what I experienced. If you want more, do a search on Petra. It really is a fascinating place.
Sunday, April 22nd, 2007
7:08 p.m. Jordan, day 5
We got a late start on interviews today so we could take care of a few errands. Among them were getting a cell phone for Peggy who will be stay another 5 weeks interviewing and photographing Iraqi refugees. We also bought some fruit, something we haven't had since we arrived. We passed a beautiful scarf store and bought a few to use and to give as gifts. We then had lunch at ACOR with other English speaking foreigners of noble intent.
At 3:00 p.m. we met with Safa at a mall food court. Charlie has known Safa and his family since December 2002. Safa's wife, Amal, and their children used to live with him in Jordan but she was made to go back to Bagdad to have her visa renewed but the Jordan embassy refused. She has been stranded in Bagdad for awhile now. Charlie keeps up with her by email. Kathy Green, another activist who has spent some time here, wrote a letter appealing to the Queen on her behalf. She just "happened" to enclose a glowing article she wrote about the Queen working for peace and justice which was published in the U.S. Nothing has happened yet but it has only been a few weeks. Charlie also has also written a letter on her behalf to the Ministry of the Interior on his company letterhead.
Safa enjoyed using his English and was a little flirty and I also got a....marriage proposal which I took as good natured flattery. After awhile Carla, Peggy and I went off by ourselves to explore the mall a bit and to give Charlie and Safa a little private time. When we came back Peggy sat next to Safa this time and he proposed to her too! So much for being special!
Zahra, an Iraqi who has lived here for 6 years and who will be our next translator, joined us at the mall. We learned that she has a 3 month visa to the U.S. and leaves in 2 weeks. She has been invited by several organizations to speak on the refugee crisis. She has engagements so far in Vermont, Philadelphia and Canada. Anybody reading this who would be interested in sponsoring her in their city for the same purpose contact me or better still Charlie at texansforpeace.org . Zahra is one of the few to get a visa we think because she is going alone and her children are left behind. She will certainly come back for her children.
After we said goodbye to Safa who we will see tomorrow afternoon, Zahra took us to see a Sabaen refugee family. (Sabaen religion pre-dates Islam, Christianity and Judism). The woman of the house is named El Ham but is respectfully called Umn Rami. She has five children whose education stopped 3 years ago when they fled Bagdad. Reonid had 1 year of school, Ivan 7, Rawa 8,Rosa 4 and Rami 11 years of school. She said Rami was on his way to an internet cafe today to write to relatives but the streets were swarming with police looking for illegal Iraqis to deport, as they often do, and returned home afraid.
This family has been 3 years in Amman. The man of the house disappeared a few weeks ago it is believed because of death threats. A Canadian Catholic group have been providing food and helping with other needs.
When asked what was the reason this family left Iraq the story they told was one of religious persecution. They tried to force Rawi to become a Muslim and to cover her hair. They threw stones at her and cut open her forehead. Also Um Rami's brother was killed and his body cut into pieces because he was not a Muslim and the oldest son, Rami, was kidnapped and a ransom of $15,000 had to be paid and then he was returned.
This family was the owner of two jewelry stores and had previously lived a good life. When they fled they took what gold they could and sold it to live on. When that ran out different activist groups started helping out. But they live in a little slum house with no furniture. Um Rami said, "There is no peace in Jordan because we do not live with dignity and can be deported at any time but we will never go back to Iraq even if there is peace. We believe in God but we do not believe in humans."
Nobody wants these refugees and they cannot go back home.
Monday, April 23rd, 2007
4:34 p.m. Jordan, day 6
We visited NCCI today, an NGO helping coordinate activities with other NGOs trying to help Iraqi refugees. I will not give the name or hint of location because of the constant threats these people have against them. The policy both here and in Iraq is to lay very low because as soon as you are noticed you are targeted.
Things were much better for Iraqis in Jordan a few years ago because there were not such overwhelming numbers. Iraqis were even permitted to work here at one time. Now there are about one million Iraqis in this small country and they are no longer permitted to work or to live here legally (or at least very few). The Jordan border shut down to refugees in 2005 when there were several explosions in Amman set off by Iraqis. War was spilling over into Jordan and Iraqis became unwelcome but somewhat tolerated guests.
Due to the recent UN conference in Geneva on the refugee crisis refugees have been bombarded by the media. This back fired on the refugees and caused more tension locally. Now everybody is talking about helping but nobody is doing anything because they are not allowed. Thus groups actually trying to help have to stay undercover.
Our interviewee states there are three types of groups in Iraq: intelligence groups, extremists and victims. Governments involved are completely politicized and care nothing for the people. One leader of Al Quida stated that if Afghanistan is the school for terrorism then Iraq is the University and open 24 hours a day every day!
He also said everyone wants the U.S. OUT. Sure there would be some problems left but the majority of them are caused by the American occupation. If the U.S. would leave, he believes, the civil war would stop. There are plenty of PSD (private security details) who are mercenaries hired by international corporations. He says this war is mostly about control over the oil fields in the south, not just to get the oil but to keep certain neighboring (enemy) countries from getting it. Soon these international corporations will not only own the oil but will have whatever government left to sign over complete control of these areas.
Next we met up with Zahra and she and Charlie went to the Ministry of the Interior (on behalf of Amal stranded in Bagdad) and they sent him to the Intelligence Dept. in another location. After only a few minutes they were done. They were told the situation was being investigated already which seems pretty much like a blow off.
Zahra then took us to see a Sunni Muslim family. Hanna was very outspoken and spoke English well. At first she was suspicious of us and wanted to know who we worked for and what were our intentions and we explained. Then she began telling us how miserable the U.S. government has made them. She said, "We lost Saddam in Iraq and now we have Saddam in America." She also said, "Just take the oil. We want peace." I recorded some of her speech and will make it available after I get back.
Hanna and Zahra took us to visit another refugee, Ishrak, her 3 children and her brother or husband (we never got that clear). They lived just around the corner in a much smaller place. The 3 young children have contributed art for an exhibition in the U.S. to help raise money for refugees. Zahra is in charge of this project and it is a large part of the reason she will be in the U.S. on a visa. The man of the house, Amer Khideer, began to pull out scarves he had hand painted. I asked him how much and he said to pay whatever I liked. Five J.D. was suggested but I gave him ten. Charlie bought a garment for seventy J.D. Obviously we were trying to help and the man was trying to make some sort of living.
Tomorrow we visit the UN Commission for Human Rights.
Tuesday, April 24th, 2007
9:53 p.m. Jordan, day 7
We went back to see Claudia Lefko at the children's art school and she let us pick a few pieces of art by Iraqi children to bring back to the States along with some literature about joint art projects with U.S. children. We, of course, have email and land addresses to share with those who may be interested.
Next we met up with Zahra at her apartment where she had arranged for four refugees to come by and talk to us. Our first visitor used the name "Nada" (and I should make it clear that everyone we have interviewed picked a name to be known by and not necessarily their own names). Nada is a Sunni Muslim from Baghdad. She was a flute player in an orchestra. She also helped out with NGOs (non-governmental organizations). She began to have trouble with the military and all sectarian groups because they believed her to be a spy. This is a "normal" suspicion of those working with NGOs. A large international corporation hired her orchestra to come over to Jordan to play and to show that "everything was good in Iraq." Because of the threats she faced in Iraq she did not go back and now she is here illegally. Now she does not help NGOs, does not email ,lays very low and tries to make it any which way she can.
Amena, a Shia Muslim who has four children came in next. They have been here for four years. Amena's husband had been working with Americans after Saddam's overthrow. He received threats and one day disappeared. She fled the country with no documentation or passport. Her children are registered as orphans and two of them are in school. One no longer wishes to go due to vision problems and taunting from other children. Amena makes a little money from the baskets she weaves. I bought one from her and Carla contributed money toward glasses.
Iman, a 41 year old Shia woman came in next. She had a B.S. in Biology (she showed us her diploma) and was a high school teacher in Baghdad. She had been asked to make a special event for Saddam's birthday (which was elaborately celebrated each year). The Bath party wanted to film it for T.V. but she refused because the parents of the children objected to it being on T.V. The Bath party immediately threatened her life and she fled Iraq leaving her 16 year old son behind. She had hoped to get teaching work in Jordan. After three years her son joined her in Jordan. Iman was tearful while telling her story. She says now she cleans houses when she can get work. Because she is illegal she is abused in many ways and receives about $1.00 an hour. What struck me most about her appearance is that she looked like she was from Texas. She wore blue jeans and a blue jean jacket and had her dark hair pulled backed to show her attractive face. I looked more like a Muslim than she did with my long skirt and long scarf (even if it was just around my neck and not covering my head).
Mohammad, our last visitor, was a handsome, clean cut young man in a business suit. He has a Masters in Computer Science. He has been in Jordan for seven years on a student visa which has now expired. He had worked in Iraq as a website designer and in Oracle database. He said in 2003 he had big dreams but now he has no dreams and no work.
After our last visitor left and we said good bye to Zahra we took a taxi to the United Nations High Commission for Refugees. Of course we went through security and they held our passports or in some cases our Texas driver's license. We met in the conference room with Rani Sweis, Public Information Assistant and Astid van Genderen Stort the Spokesperson for UNHCR who had attended the recent Geneva conference on the refugee crisis. I was allowed to record this hour long meeting and will make it available when I return to the States. In short the purpose of UNHCR is "implementing partners to help refugees" which is extremely important now that Jordan's population is 15% Iraqi refugees. Even though the government calls them "guests" they are a source of tension and burden on the economy and they need help. UNHCR is doing all they can to relieve this overwhelming problem. Some of the organizations they work with include Care, Karetas, Save the Children and many others. UNHCR has meetings with these organizations, other interested parties and the media each month to inform each other and to discuss the issues. We were told that their next meeting may be this Sunday and if so Peggy, Carla and I will attend. It was a very worthwhile meeting.
As we left we knew the next item would be to find a place for a meal. We had not eaten since breakfast and it was now after 6:00 p.m. Someone suggested Mecca Mall mostly just to check it out so we went there for 10 minutes. Most of that 10 minutes was going through an x-ray machine and having our bags searched. (Our taxi driver told us that was where the rich Iraqis hung out). The first thing we saw after this episode was a Starbucks and then fancy jewelry stores. So we used their restroom facilities and left. After a phone call, we met up with our first translator, Amjad, and had a wonderful meal of local foods.
We returned back to ACHOR just in time for Charlie's live radio interview with John Basil in Houston for his show called, "No Hate Zone."
Next Peggy let us view all her photos so we could download some for ourselves. That took awhile. Then I came down to the library to write this. It is midnight. Enough said.
Wednesday, April 25th, 2007
6:33 p.m. Jordan, day 8
We said good bye to Charlie this morning as he left for the long journey home. His experience and knowledge has made this trip very rewarding and comfortable. Peggy has lived in the Middle East and knows some Arabic. Carla and I are just two good hearted Texans on an adventure alone now. But we'll do all right.
We spent all morning talking to Dr. Mansoor Moaddal who teaches Middle Eastern Sociology at Eastern Michigan University and has published several books on the subject. I did record some of the talk but failed to take written notes. Also, since I don't want to misquote him I'll just copy and paste something from a web site to give you an idea of where he's coming from. (I would not want to be unfair but he did mention talking to congress and other well placed politicians and the more he talked the more it seemed he was a Republican. In any case he has been a proud American for 30 years but he was born in Iran). Here's part a review of his book, "Values and Perceptions of the Islamic and Middle Eastern Publics": "This book addresses one of the most pressing questions of comparative political behavior--the potential class of values between Western and Islamic publics. Based on national public opinion surveys from the newest wave of the World Values Survey, this study presents fascinating evidence on the relationship between Islamic values and democratic values in a large set of Islamic nations. Many of the findings will challenge conventional wisdom, suggesting the cultural basis for democratization in Islamic nations may be greater than currently presumed. This book is sure to evoke debate and discussion on the content of political culture in the Islamic world."
--Russell J. Dalton, Founding Director, Center for the Study of Democracy, University of California, Irvine Food for thought: Dr. Moaddel receives grants from the National Science Foundation which is heavily funded by the U.S. government and they are very pleased by his work.
We hung out upstairs a little while and I gave Peggy about 10 hours of audio recordings I have done on this trip, as a form of notes for her, and now I have this material on a flash drive as well so if something happens to my purse I have a back up in another location.
During lunch at ACOR we started talking to Jesse who is doing her dissertation on Islamic fundamentalism. I had heard she had been to Syria a couple of times and Carla and I asked her many questions. She told us procedures, how to handle them, what they should cost, what to expect, what to see and where to stay. We are seriously considering a little trip. We're joking that we'll write a joint story called, "Two Texas Grandmas in the Middle East, Syria-usly now" or some such. Jesse said she likes Syria much better than Jordan and she loves Jordan. We invited her to go along with us but currently her passport is at the Iranian embassy. She leaves on an Iranian tour Tuesday. If she can get her passport back she may go with us. But we're just talking.
This afternoon Carla and I went out on an adventure on our own. Our first taxi driver was an Iraqi and even though his English was very broken we communicated quite well. He was a Sunni named Omar. He said his name labeled him and targeted him by the Shia in Iraq. He told us his children went to school here but the schools were not as good as in Iraq. He said they spoke English very well. We had asked him to take us to C-Town because we had enjoyed the stores there particularly. Soon we learned that C-Town is a chain, sort of like Walmart. There were several throughout the city. We remembered Jabal Hussein and got to the area we wanted. We thought we could find a place to exchange money there because we had seen several banks. Exchange signs usually led us to an ATM which neither of us had a card for or ever used. (Might change that in the future). Then as we were walking around just looking I decided to ask a guard sitting at a desk in a little side street mall where we could get money exchanged but not at an ATM. He got up and took us to someone who took us a few steps further to a Western Union. Okay the rate was a little less favorable but we had zigzagged across the street four times checking out what looked like banks (because bank was on the sign) only to find locked gates or clothing stores under the sign. We were thankful for this special kindness. Also, several times when we were crossing streets and perfectly willing to wait until there was a gap in traffic to cross, cars stopped for us to let us pass. We had fun window shopping and stopped to have a super sweet tamarind drink which wound up making us thirstier and discovered a top floor restaurant with a great city view. People were generally very kind, helpful and sweet and at the very least tolerate of the friendly American oddballs.
Close to 7:00 p.m. we hailed a taxi and I told him and showed him on a map where we wanted to go. He came very close but got no cigar. He took us to the college rather than "near" the college but as we turned around we found a local who kindly spoke to our driver in Arabic and we were home within two minutes. Interestingly he was working his prayer beads the whole time he was driving. He seemed to be ahead of the game. The call to prayer started just as we left the taxi.
Carla is a fine companion and we really enjoyed the day. Peggy went out on her own adventure and this is her last night with us here although she will have another month in Jordan at a different location.
I will be working hard on these 10 hours of audio, when I get home, to present several podcasts about the Iraqi refugee crises here. Considering the noisy environment under which these recordings were made they turned out fairly well. I also plan to write several articles.
Tomorrow we go to the Dead Sea.
Thursday, April 26th, 2007
7:11 p.m. Jordan, day 9
Our driver, Kamese, (who we had hired off the street two days earlier) came early for us today. We had said 0900 and he was here at 0830 which is a good thing. We had many plans. Although Kamese spoke almost no English we seemed to communicate just well enough.
Our first stop was Madaba, "city of mosaics." We visited a Byzantine Greek orthodox church from the 6th century. A large part of the original floor mosaic was intact. It was a mosaic map depicting the hills, valleys, villages and towns as far away as the Nile Delta. It's considered an ancient masterpiece and has two million pieces of colored stone. It is also still a working church. (When we first entered the church a local asked us where we were from and when we said "Texas" he said, "That's why I hang my hat in Tennessee."
Next we visited Mt. Nebo, the place of Moses' death and burial. (Deuteronomy: 34). It was also a place of ancient ruins going back to Paleolithic times. The view from Mt. Nebo was incredible. One is supposed to be able to see the rooftops of Jerusalem and Bethlehem but it was windy and there was a fine silt in the air misting our view. There was a gorgeous Byzantine church there, parts of it still being excavated. It is also a working church with pews. And, there was also an archeological museum full of artifacts.
We went from the mountain top down to the Dead Sea, the lowest place on earth. It is also believed to be the Biblical site of Sodom and Gomorrah. On the way there, at least every two miles there was a check point and soldiers with machine guns. This is because the Dead Sea separates Jordan from Israel, a Muslim country from a Jewish country. They only actually talked to Kamese but at one station they wanted to see our passports and I didn't bring mine. They were cool with the Texas driver's license but for a split second I thought I was in trouble with a man with a machine gun.
We also changed into shorts and t-shirt and went down into the Dead Sea. It certainly is true that you cannot drown. We floated in only about a foot of water. The water looked about like any water but it felt silky. When I showered I forgot to wash my hair, I guess because it was already wet. Later on, my gooky hair started dripping salt and salt was caked in my ears.
After our salty adventure we ate in the only restaurant in miles. It was a touristy place and much more expensive than usual but the food was local and good. We paid for Kamese as well and it was good to share the meal together.
After our salty adventure we went out of our way to see Lot's cave. We were surprised this was not on the touristy route. There was no one there but a guard and a "closed for renovation sign." Kamese did some fast talking and we were allowed to go on through. It was a steep, bumpy, gravel road ride and it seemed like the car may not make it and when we got as far as we could by car we then had to climb hundred's of steep steps. But it was worth it. There indeed was a cave with evidence of ancient habitation and outside of it were ruins of a small village. Kamese said he had never been here and that Jordanians do not go here (he may have meant Muslims). However, he stopped before entering the cave and held his hands as if giving an offering and said a little prayer. I also paused for a moment in meditation of the awesomeness of this whole journey. It is here that Lot and his daughters are believed to have sought refuge after God destroyed Sodom, according to the book of Genesis.
Our last big stop was at Karak Castle, also known as the Crusader Castle. It was a massive fortress and had what seemed like miles of tunnels and layers of different buildings and lookout points. We came across another American and she looked concerned because she couldn't find her way out. It was then we realized we were lost too. But we figured it out. Carla's famous words: "Well, it sure is bigger than the Alamo."
From Karak we high-tailed it on home, about a 2.5 hour drive. All along the whole trip we saw the odd camel here and there, Bedouin tents scattered about, goat herds and goat herders and mountains of sand everywhere.
Tomorrow we go to Jaresh, Umm Qays, Umm Al-Jimal and the Syrian border. If we're lucky they may give us a visa (though I hear that when do, it takes eights hours of waiting) and then we can see Damascus. If we get in we will spend at least one night there. That is why there may not be another note until Sunday.
Friday, April 27th, 2007
7:06 p.m. Jordan, day 10, and Syrian border "intrigue"
Kamese came at the appointed time. We made our way to Jaresh first. It is about 1.5 miles of ancient ruins with endless columns, amphitheater, a place for chariot races complete with stone horse stalls. Here's the beginning blurb from a website and then the site address where you can learn more and see pictures. "Journey 40km north of Amman and you'll arrive at the ancient city of Jerash, a beautiful preserve of the Roman Empire. It is second only to Petra in tourist appeal and has a remarkable record of human settlement since Neolithic times. Few ancient towns are as well preserved and as complete as Jerash, a city complex that once was a thriving commercial zone and part of the Decapolis. Built in the 2nd century BC the city was conquered in 63 BC by the Roman General Pompey. It reached its peak in the 2nd century and declined after a series of Christian and Muslim invasions and by earthquakes in the mid 8th century."
http://www.middleeastuk.com/destinations/jordan/jerash.htm We spent at least an hour there but it deserved a full day at least. We agreed it was better to get an introduction to many things than to miss many things altogether.
We next went to Ajloun castle. Here a local named, Mohammad, offered to be our guide for 5 J.D. Since he spoke English fairly well we thought it would be good to learn as we looked. It was an extremely large and cleverly designed complex of towers, chambers, galleries, secret passageways and staircases. Here's the beginning blurb to a website about it and then the website address: "The Castle of Ajloun or Qalaat Errabadh (Arabic for "Hilltop Castle"), from which there is a splendid view westwards into the Jordan Valley. It looks like a Crusader fortress, but it was built by Muslims in 1184-85 as a military fort and buffer to protect the region from invading Crusader forces. It was built on the orders of the local governor, Ezz Eddin Osama bin Munqethe, a nephew of the Ayyubid leader Salahuddin Al-Ayyoubi (Saladin), as a direct retort to the new Latin castle of Belvoir (Kawkab El-Hawa) on the opposite side of the valley between the Tiberias and Besan, and as a base to develop and control the iron mines of Ajloun."
http://nabataea.net/ajloun.html It is here we made it known we would like to visit Syria. Mohammad offered to take us to Damascus and said there would be no price but for our pleasure. We didn't buy that. We remembered what Jesse had said about how they always promised to take you to Damascus but dumped you at the border, basically because most drivers do not own their cars and cannot legally go past the border. At this point we still thought we had arrangements with Kamese to let us out at the border and we'd take our chances on our own.
As we left Ajloun, Kamese asked in broken English, "You want go Damascus?" We replied, "Yes," and then he indicated he could take us, that his father lived there and that we could be guests in his home. Since we seemed to have a trusting relationship we believed this for awhile. We were amazed at our good fortune. Not only would we have a Syrian adventure but we would have an authentic one with a local family. We were feeling great!
On our way to Umm Quays I inquired about the bunches of weeds people were carrying. Kamese said it was hummus. Since we had only known it as a beige mush for bread we were surprised. He pulled over and asked (in Arabic) if we could have some and the man pulled off a portion of his weeds and gave them to us. We pulled off some of the green pods and shelled out the sweet pea tasting center. We enjoyed the fresh taste.
We arrived in Umm Quys to more elaborate Roman ruins. It overlooks the Sea of Galilee and the Golan Heights. A Palestinian named, Isam, was quick to point out that it was really part of Syria we were viewing although it was controlled by Israel. He was kind to us but proceeded to tell us what "bullshit" the official history was. Somewhere in here I bent down to get my note pad but it was only to make note that we were viewing the Golan heights and the Sea of Galilee (which is called something else entirely on the Jordainian map). Isam spoke in Arabic to Kamese and then in English asked us suspiciously, "You want to go to Syria?" We said "yes" that Kamese was taking us and then there was more Arabic between them. Isam then said, "You do not want to go to Damascus. It is bad." When we asked why he said, " Uh, the TRAFFIC is bad and he cannot take you." We still did not quite understand.
As we left Umm Quays on the way to a restaurant and then the Syrian border, Kamese asked, "You want to go to Damascus?" and then laughed with an edge of cruelty. (Gees, didn't he already say he had family there, his father to be exact, and could drive us?) Then he said, "No go Damascus. Me have friend I call. He take." Hummm. "Where is your father?" I asked. He replied, "Amman." Hummmm again. Carla whispered to me, "His father moves pretty fast." The fact that the story was changing and every time the name of Syria came up around anyone there was a look of seriousness and suspicion made us change our minds. "We want to go back to Amman after we go to a restaurant."
At least we were taken, as requested, to a local non-tourist restaurant. We each had one half chicken and veggies for a total of 6 J.D. altogether. It was so authentic there were no utensils and I saw them put the veggies on our plate with their hands. We washed in the sink and ate with our fingers. Meanwhile Kamese's phone kept ringing and we heard the words "American tourist" and "Damascus" mentioned. We thought we had already made it clear we just wanted to go back to Amman. When he got off the phone we said again, "No Damascus. Go to Amman." Kamese said okay. Meanwhile local men gathered at the front of the restaurant and stared at us in a non-friendly way. I asked Kamese, "Problem for American in Syria?" He answered, "No problem for American. Problem for American diplomat." (Did he think we were diplomats because he picked us up at the American center?) It was getting weird.
After we left the restaurant I noticed Kamese did not turn toward Amman the way the sign directed but was following a sign that said in Arabic and in English, "to the Syrian border." I said, "No Syria. Amman." Not long after Kamese turned toward Amman. He had been so friendly up until we met the Palestinian. Then something changed. Maybe a simple communication problem. Or maybe he was just messing with us. Whatever it was we were glad to arrive back at ACOR. We'll now stay in Amman and maybe re-visit some of the Iraqi refugee families.
After writing the above I took the following off the web: Dated April 24, 2007
(AP) U.S. relations with Syria are on a downward slide, reduced to "diplomatic contact" in which the Bush administration demands tightened borders to keep guerrillas from spilling into Iraq.
Diplomatic relations have not been officially severed, but the U.S. ambassador, Margaret Scobey, has not been at her post in Damascus since she was recalled for consultations after the assassination of Rafiq Hariri, a former Lebanese prime minister, in Beirut in mid-February.
Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice has steadily stepped up her rhetorical attack, from saying Syria was not doing enough to guard the border with Iraq to accusing it of permitting insurgents to stage their operations from Syria.
Syria's ambassador to Washington, Imad Moustapha, told The Associated Press Tuesday that Syria had halted military and intelligence cooperation with the United States.
That helps us a little to understand mixed feelings about Americans.
6:44 p.m. Jordan, day 12
This morning I sent emails to Senator Sylvester Reyes, the El Paso Times and several other people and publications with intentions of spreading the word of how things really are here. I am unable to access my default Roadrunner mail and there seems to be a delay with my Yahoo address which is the one I use most often. It's hard to say, at this point, if silence is indifference or mail trouble or perhaps both.
Late in the afternoon Carla and I took Peggy and four new Iraqi friends to lunch. Iman is the school teacher who is reduced to maid work when she can get it. Carla is going to write a letter for her promising to employ her if she gets a visa. Zahra was one of our translators and she is on her way to the States at the invitation of several NGOs. She brought her two teenage daughters. We went back to the "restored" fish place that was too busy to accept us last week. Several groups of men came in after us and were served first. After Zahra made some inquires and let them know we noticed this we were finally served. It was a really large fish sliced onto 3 platters from which we all ate from, picking the little bones out as we went. Zahra said this is an Iraqi restaurant and this is Iraqi food.
Several of us exchanged gifts, pulling off jewelry or other personal items. We kissed good-bye and made our final trip to ACOR.
Here are a few words I scratched out this morning:
Compassion And A Texan For Peace
Jordan has swollen my feet.
My legs are lead
yet I move
and am moved.
Iraqi refugees tell me
their hopelessness
and I will bear witness.
They are illegal everywhere.
Their homes are destroyed.
Overwhelmingly
they are women and children
with their husbands and fathers
dead or vanished.
They have the clothes on their backs
and whatever they can find
or what is given to them by charities.
From truck drivers to teachers
and engineers
they have no decent way to live
and nobody wants them.
Yet they gave me coffee, tea,
shared their humble dwellings
and were able to separate the individual
from the war machine.
Today I bought a pillow
with an Arabic inscription,
(and today hundreds of Iraqis died
not only from bomb blasts and machine gun fire
but from starvation, disease
and lack of medical treatment).
The inscription translated:
"The garden cannot help but bloom
as we cannot help but love."
I think that's why I'm here.
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belindasubraman's journal
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