Jordan

Petra was sweet. It was so much bigger and more than I expected. I've never seen Indiana Jones but feel like I probably should now. The camel in this picture tried attacking Brindy's head moments before the shot was taken. I met a really great Bedouin man in front of this facade who told me the shops around Petra make $3,000 dollars a day selling cheap souvenirs to naive tourists. The Beadouin's name was Eagilos (like "lost eagle backwards," he told me) and invited me and my friends to become part of his Arab tribe and dwell in Petra with his family. Oh that I were a bedouin. We spent a whole day at Petra but honestly could have spent a week. The rest of our Jordan trip was spent at the site Jesus was baptized by John, touring the biggest mosque in the country (and wearing the robes provided), exploring castles, and walking around ancient Roman cities (mostly Jerash).

I think my favorite part though was the last night in Amman (Jordan's capital). We had some free time so a group and I took a taxi to Rainbow Street. Yes, the street's name really is "Rainbow Street." It was a completely magical place with the best kiwi-chocolate flavored ice cream for one dinar (Jordanian currency) I've ever tasted. The ice cream seller was extremely kind and patient as each of us asked for samples of every kind. His family was with him and they too were so pleasant to talk to. After our indulgences we ran into some street performers and couldn't help but sit and soak in their renditions of Cat Stevens, requested by Katie Backus. During their little performance we meet some local Christian and Muslim University students (bottom picture) and asked them all kinds of questions about the typical life

of a 23-year-old living on Rainbow Street. We tried impressing them with the little Arabic we learned but they just laughed at us because the only word we correctly could pronounce or remember was "Maznune," meaning "Crazy person." We then were led to a restaurant overlooking the whole old city of Amman where American-ish food was on the menu! I was so happy to eat some chicken fingers and a strawberry milkshake. (Okay I have to be honest- the milkshake was terrible. If anything it was a strawberry smoothie which didn't so much feel so smooth in my stomach and we also got a brownie. And when I say brownie I mean a straight up square piece of condensed coffee sprinkled with stale powdered sugar.) But then- the best part...the owner of the restaurant put on a private concert for us after some negotiations were exchanged. We, along with one lone man in a red collared shirt sipping hot chocolate in the corner table, were the only ones in the house to take part in his 30 minute percussion ensemble. I felt like I was in the depths of an African rainforest. He created all these obscure bird and monkey callings while splashing water around in a bowl to make waterfall noises. He drummed his drum, snapped his fingers, did a little of this, a little of that and magically our minds warped into that of fern gully. This guy was downright good and I'll leave it at that. To conclude the night we caught a cab who overcharged us and took us to the wrong hotel at first but after breaching some language barriers we confirmed our destination was the "Ambassador" hotel, not the "Embassy." But even though we forked out a couple extra dollars and were stressing to make curfew...and innocently broke the word of wisdom for a lousy bite a "brownie"- I will always remember the people and places of Rainbow Street.