Arrived in Amman

Amman, Jordan, October 15, 2011

I’m in a hotel in Amman with the rather grandiose name of the Golden Tulip Palace. It’s a comfortable enough place, set just off a busy road in the north end of the city, but not as stately as the name might imply.

There was some doubt I’d even be able to get here as planned. I was booked to fly out on Thursday on Air Canada, the very day flight attendants were due to go on strike. Government intervention prevented the strike (I suspect they didn’t do it for my benefit; I didn’t vote for them), but I left extra early for the airport, expecting some kind of delay. Instead it turned out to be the fastest and smoothest trip from home to the boarding gate that I can remember. The flight was only half full, so I was able to sleep through most of the first leg to London stretched across three seats.

I arrived around 9 in the morning in London and with a few hours to kill until the final leg of the flight, I took the express train to Paddington. It’s a fantastic service that once again reminds me how backward and colonial we are in Toronto when it comes to building a decent transit system. I went wandering around the streets near Paddington and soon came across Kensington Gardens, built in 1738. It was a perfect day; sunny, warm and with a slight breeze rippling the surface of the Serpentine, a long narrow lake built as part of the park project. I walked through to Hyde Park and saw the Diana, Princess of Wales Fountain. It’s not a fountain in the usual sense, but rather a large circle of carved stone set in the grass, with water running in two directions and meeting at a little waterfall chiseled into the rock.

Getting through the trip from London to Amman was a bit more challenging, as I was determined to stay awake and adapt to the different time zone. There was a last-minute change of planes and a few other delays, but I arrived at the hotel around 11 p.m. Staying awake during the long taxi ride in from the airport was no problem considering the way people drive here. The highways are good, but the local driving customs bring home the meaning of “inshallah.” As far as drivers are concerned, lane markings are a suggestion only, turn signals are for sissies and leaving a couple of feet between your car and the one in front of you is a waste of good space.

There is some evidence that things are not quite as peaceful in the city as they appear. My hotel has a barrier across the driveway. A security guard does a check for explosive residue on the car, using a swipe pad and an electronic analyzer. Then there’s an X-ray machine at the door to check suitcases, and a metal detector to check patrons. But they seem fairly nonchalant about the whole thing, usually waving me through without a second look. I guess I have an honest face.

This morning I took a taxi to the Israeli Embassy. As it turns out, the embassy is closed until Monday. Since it can take a day to get a visa, we might not be able to start the first course in West Bank on Tuesday as planned. I called one of the sponsors. After some conferring, they suggest that I hold tight and go to the embassy first thing Monday and hope they’ll be able to process the visa immediately. We shall see.

With no particular plans and a need to stay awake, I went wandering around the area on foot.  It is a beautiful day with temperatures in the 30s, low humidity and not a cloud in the sky. Amman appears to be booming. There are many large lots that have recently been bulldozed clean, waiting for new buildings to sprout. Several towers are under construction.

I’m in what appears to be an upper-middle class neighbourhood, made of condos or apartments a few stories high, mixed in with the odd single family place. The popular style is to face the buildings with pale sandstone, often worked to have a pebbled surface. It’s not surprising, since the city appears to be built on the same kind of rock. Buildings are closely packed with little evidence of gardens or back yards and there are relatively few trees. Altogether, it gives the impression of a dry, sun baked city.

At lunch, I walked down to a nearby shopping area. It’s crammed with little stores selling clothes, shoes, purses and jewelry. They all seem to have exactly the same things. Then in front of the stores are rows of street hawkers, selling cheaper Chinese versions of clothes, shoes, purses and jewelry, along with a few gaudy plastic toys.

I had lunch at a little shawarma place, eating at a plastic table by the sidewalk. It was delicious and cheap at just a little more than 1 Jordanian Dinar (or jay-dee, as we locals say).

The rest of the day I read over my notes for the first day of class, read a book and struggled to stay awake, with mixed success. It’s now dinner time (restaurants seem to start serving at about 7 p.m. here).  I’ve got no other plans for tonight, but I’m looking forward to tomorrow. Aeman, the taxi driver who took me to the Israeli embassy this morning, offered a decent price for driving to the Dead Sea, waiting a couple of hours and driving me back. So I’m off tomorrow at 9 to see if you really can float as effortlessly as it looks in the pictures.

John