Umm Qais and Orphans

Hey folks,

From the rooftop I gazed out upon the distant snowy peak of a lone mountain in Lebanon. To its right lay the mountainous range of Syria and on its left the Golan Heights. On top of a hill elevated at the summit of the little town of Umm Qais the sun was setting behind the ruins of an ancient Ottoman city. The minaret lying behind it looked as if it had been stenciled in by God’s divine plan. My legs yearned to run through the Ottoman village to its other side and catch the sun setting on the twinkling waters of the Sea of Galilee and the Israeli border but instead I stayed finishing my two cups of Shae that my traveling companions and I had been served by our gracious hosts.

 Sitting on the roof of the Umm Qais Hotel, the only budget hostel in town I realized why this land is the holy land and why so many lives have been lost fighting for its scenic views. Although so much conflict has plagued the land around Umm Qais I felt at peace. There is something comforting about Jordan and its people. The majority seems perfectly content with what they have in life; some have so little and yet they will give whatever they can to you in a heartbeat. I’m not sure if it was Ahmad, the man I sat next to on the bus ride from Amman to Irbid who bought candy for myself and everyone I was traveling with who then flagged us down taxis and directed us to our next bus stop, or the man later that night purchasing candy at the grocery store across from our hotel who handed me one with a wink and a smile, but ever since reaching Jordan I’ve experienced more simple generosity from complete strangers than I have in my life in the States. I feel safe in Jordan because I know that people here love their lives for what it is and they still hold beautiful land like Umm Qais because their kings have always maintained diplomatic and peaceful terms with their neighbors.

After shae, David, Becca, Michael, Leah, Sinclaire and I all waltzed over to a lookout point past the ruins and caught some shots of a fleeting sun over an Israeli border. Famished from our two bus rides and one taxi ride which all cost a grand total of 2.5 JD we dragged our bag of bones over to the Umm Qais Rest House to get dinner. Sitting under the stars in the Rest House patio we were served deliciously fresh cuisine as we pondered the city lights reflecting off the Sea of Galilee, trying to put words to how lucky we were to be enjoying that sublime moment together. We had a bottle of Penguin (made in Jordan, Virginia, and Europe) waiting for us in our cozy two bed hostel rooms and not a worry in the world. That night we toasted to our happiness as we sat on the roof of the hostel smoking double apple argileh (served at 11 pm by our amazing hosts). Folks, life cannot get any better than this.

The next day we awoke at 5:30 am (yes Mom and Dad, we truly did) in time to catch the sun rising over the rolling hills of Jordan. I tried to soak in everything my sandy eyes and throbbing head could handle and then hobbled back into bed for three hours. That morning I departed the hotel with heavy heart, wishing that school didn’t exist and I could just stay and live in the Umm Qais Hotel forever. We took our stuff and trudged over to the ruins to explore. My residency card (which I got last week YAY!) got me in for free and we started down on a path rolling over one of the hills which looked over the Golan Heights. About half a mile in we ran into some cows grazing in the shade of a few trees so we decided to hide in the shade and have our picnic lunch of bread and Nutella. As all of my traveling buddies napped, ate, and took pictures I serenaded them with my raspy voice and cheap guitar. This was my first chance to play and sing at length since arriving to Jordan and I could feel the music like a 4 hour and $1,000 session of therapy doing its job.

Around one we hiked back into town and went through the process of navigating the public (and sometimes questionably private) transportation system back into Amman. Once home I fell into my bed and slept, dreaming of purple skies, amazing new friends, and grazing cows (one never realizes how great cows are until they see them after a month long hiatus). I woke up the next day at 6:30 am (still not lying Mom and Dad) and got ready for my second exhilarating event of the weekend: the community service “orphanage” trip.

This Saturday CIEE took a group of kids who had signed up to go to King Hussein park and play with a group of orphan kids from Jordan. I know what you’re thinking, that’s hardly community service, but in my defense I signed up assuming I’d be painting walls or something. We arrived at the park to find, at the girls in our groups dismay, that the orphans had been restricted to boys. 30 boys or so around 9 to 13 all marched out of their bus in (almost entirely) matching tracksuits. Immediately we became immersed in games and jokes and good times. I’ve gotta’ say it was the most good clean fun I’ve had in while. Playing with kids is pretty universal, if you’ve ever done it you know what I was experiencing so I’ll just post my favorite pictures for you to enjoy my experience with me. I picked out a few cuties to adopt so assuming they don’t grow up on me, I’ve got a few sons in line for the future.

I finished off the weekend at Places Café emailing my two 12 page papers in (the reason I haven’t blogged in a week). It felt good to get those beasts off my shoulders, however, next week is midterms so I’m not feeling too carefree just yet. Only two weeks until Turkey though! Becca, Sinclaire and I will have the time of our lives and I can’t wait! Which reminds me, I should probably start booking some hostels and whatnot… I Hope all is well in everyone’s respective travels and work and schools. The last week I was beginning to feel pretty lonely and missing friends and family and reliable running water, but after this weekend I’ve been reinvigorated. I’m thinking about trying to squeeze in some volunteer work with my roommate Joe for a refugee camp. I’m not sure what this entails, but no doubt it will be an adventure.

Love,

Wylie of Arabia!!