Bedouin Weekend: to Petra and Back

After our Bedouin seminar ended on Thursday, Kate, Isra, Dena, Elliot, Alex, and I bid farewell to the other Dorot Fellows and hopped on the bus from Beer Sheva to Eilat. We stayed the night in a room with bunk beds in a little hostel right by the Eilat Center Bus Station.

In the morning, we took a taxi to the Israeli-Jordanian border. Thankfully, the border was rather uneventful, and we haggled successfully with some taxi drivers for an affordable ride to Petra. ("Where are you from?" the taxi driver asked. "America," we responded. "Ohh ... OBAMA!" he shouted excitedly.) The ride was my first experience of the true beauty of Jordan. Stunning mountains and rock formations jut up into the sky on both sides of the highway. We arrived in Petra, sad not to be gazing out onto the breathtaking Jordanian landscape, but glad to find a hostel.

We checked in the Petra Gate Hostel, a very affordable but clean and friendly hostel just a 10 minute walk from the Petra archaeological site. We were greeted by the owner, Mr. Nasser, who suggested a restaurant across the street for lunch. Al Arabi served up delicious hummus and pita, salad, and lentil soup.

Petra is an archaeological site considered by many to be one of the new wonders of the world. It was built by the Nabateans, who ruled the traderoutes in the area, nearly 2200 years ago, but it wasn't discovered until the early 19th century. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petra) Knowing that we needed a full day to see Petra, we grabbed a taxi to the second famous site in the area, fondly known as "Little Petra." Little Petra is a slightly smaller version of the official site, beautiful and impressive but not quite as gradiose.

At Little Petra we explored the caves and tombs and stared with gaping mouths at the intricate facades carved into the rock. At one point, we climbed up a 2000 year old staircase to get a better view of the gorge. On the way down, however, I got incredibly uncomfortable with the height and slippery steps and froze. One of the Bedouin tour guides, who spoke no English at all, scurried up the steps, took my hand gently, and led me down to safety. We befriended him and his cousins, and walked the rest of the way, listening to their stories of Bedouin life in Petra.

We ate dinner in the hostel, and then headed out to enjoy the Petra nightlife. We stumbled upon Sanabel Bakery (which was highly recommended in many of the guidebooks) and bought a boxfull of cookies and Jordanian pastries. We took our bounty to a coffee shop where we watched a bad American movies with Arabic subtitled and drank tea.

The next morning we arose early for our day in Petra. We ate a light breakfast at the hostel and walked the 10 minutes downhill to the archaelogical site. The place was hopping with tourists from all over the world, and once we entered we understood why. Every corner led us to something more beautiful and impressively preserved. But the Nabatean and Roman structures were just a fraction of the beauty of Petra, where the rocks and mountains and walls of the gorges rise up to dizzy heights. At about 2 we found ourselves at the bottom of a mountain, at the top of which is the "Monastery," considered to be the most impressive building in Petra. But the 800 steps to the top, after a long day of walking, were not a possibility, so we rode donkeys to the top!

The Monestary was truly magnificent. We sat on benches in a little cafe at the top of the mountain, marveling at its size and chatting with some of the local Bedouins. Tasir, one of the Bedouin men who led our donkeys to the top of the mountain, convinced us to walk a bit further up the mountain to the famed view of the "end of the world." It was, possibly, the most beautiful place I've stood. (Although, with that beauty, came the fear of falling off the cliff.) We watched the sunset over the Jordanian mountains, illuminating Aaron's tomb in the distance. Tasir and his brothers made us Bedouin tea, cooked over an open fire, and then led our group back down the mountain.

We convinced Tasir and his wife Maria to join us for dinner. We returned to Al Arabi, but discovered that when you go with locals the experience is completely different. The soup was hotter, the hummus better, the service faster ... and the meal half the price! We exchanged email addresses with Tasir because, even though he and his wife spent 5 out of 7 nights in a cave on the top of the mountain where we met them, they have cell phones and email addresses like the rest of the world.

We returned to Israel the next morning. I crossed the border without any problems and received another 3 month tourist visa, although my friend Isra, an Iranian-Jew, was questioned for about half an hour by a brisk Israeli soldier. Before we boarded the bus for our 5 hour ride back to Jerusalem, we sat on the Eilat shore, gazing across the water at the Jordanian mountains and the Jordanian flag flapping in the distance.