First Letter home from Jordan - June 11 &12

Letter to home June 11 and following….

June 11 1976

Hi all! I’m safely and happily arrived. This is a real believe it or not story. On the Alia flight I sat with a Libyan family. They were visiting relative in Amman. The girl I got to know very well. We got to know each other when I noticed she was collecting all the sugars and creams so I gave her mine. She then taught me a version of tic-tac-toe. And I taught mine to her. She had had 1 year of English. We exchanged addresses with the help of her father who can write English. She gave me a yellow barrette “to remember.” And so I gave her my picture. She then asked her father for a picture of her which not having, he said I would get in the mail! (By the way Bryn will be sending a picture of himself and me in Poros to Bangor c/o you. You can open it I’m sure!) Any way from this Libyan family whose name is Khoury I knew the Arabs were friendly and helpful. So I got to the airport and a baggage person (?) helped me with my bags then took them outside and took me to a tax driver.

(What I didn’t say in this letter home was how scarey that actually was. Here I was entering Jordan with no hotel reservation. My travel agent had been unable to book me a room because all the businessmen from Beirut Lebanon were flooding in Amman to run their businesses that summer. “Min a Beirut?” “Are you from Beirut?” was the question we were most often asked. I had a plan all made in my head for what I would do as I disembarked the plane.

1.I would calmly disembark the plane and line up (queue up as in Heathrow) for going through customs.
2.I would then find the information desk and ask them for a reference to a good hotel and inquire as to the best form of transportation to said place.
3. If there was no hotel available I would inquire about a youth hostel. I had my YWCA membership card with me. I did have my doubts about whether its authencity would be received as it was signed by the Jewish president of the YWCA. I’ll never know.

Hah. Hah. We disembarked the plane on a warm sultry moonlit Jordanian night and walked across the tarmac to something that looked like the original Bangor Airport.
I followed the well dressed couple I had been admiring on the place. She was dark and beautiful and wore a plain white linin sleeveless dress and a great deal of gold jewelry. He wore a dark suit with an expensive flair. They also spoke English. So I tried to stay close to them. We entered the building which I recall as being very small….a counter or two…some sort of customs kiosk where my passport was quickly stamped and suddenly….I was outside.

Outside, now on the street side of the building, surrounded by what seemed to be twenty or more men in kafia’s and dark clothes all yelling loudly “Taxi? Taxi? You want taxi, Miss?” Ulp!!!! Well, there was no place or way to go but onward. Carry me safe through Jordan, God! I picked a face at random and said, “I need hotel. Do you know good hotel?” And the story continues.

I told him (the TD) I had no place to go and he said, “Five minutes” which is universal for “Wait, I’ll help you don’t worry, “ I have friends.” “It is hotel?” I queried. “Oh yes, Mount Hotel.”

“Do you mind?” he said, “if they come too?”. They being the couple I had admired on the plane! God is good! “That is fine,” I said, “Thank you!”

We also took a well dressed Jordanian couple who explained where we were as we drove through the city. (I never did find out who they were. But we left them off at a very large estate. The taxi driver found out I was in Jordan for an archaeology dig. “Did you know,” he said, “that an archaeologist’s business is always in ruins!”)We got to Mount Hotel which off 1st circle and he said, “You want me to ask?”
“Sure” I said.
So we went in. Bunch of men in khafias watching TV and an old lady who runs the place. They call her the “Madame” but it is not that!

(Yes, I did have my suspicions! I mean the place was called “Mount Hotel”. The “lobby” was like a waiting room with straight chairs against the wall. TV mounted on the wall in one corner. Kojak in Arabic with French subtitles. Madame was in one of them. Huge woman in a huge tented brown dress. Her chins ran into her dress which melded with the floor. Beyond that room was a sort of sun room with tables and chairs.

The room was simply put: Gross. But it was a room. This picture shows the Hotel sign and the policeman who was stationed outside. The police all carried M-16's.)

They gave me a room on the 3rd floor. Dirty but the bed is comfortable. Glass door with one pane out but compared to a manger….Well, I decided to be friendly and not retire immediately (it was 9:00pm). The plane had been delayed) and so I went back downstairs. (I really did want to scope out the place and see if there was a business being run there) My taxi driver was still there and he ordered a cup of tea for me. We then spoke in halting English for 20 minutes or so and watched TV.

(I agreed to the cup of tea as I had been told that refusing a cup of tea is not polite! During this conversation he continually asked me if I wanted to “go to theatre”. No, I kept politely declining. I tipped him probably way too much when he left…I did ask “what is customary?” and didn’t get much indication.)

After he left a Taiwan young man came over who spoke English and we got acquainted. When he found out I was on the Heshbon Expedition he said he had met someone else staying there who was also on it! Not soon after his friend Nathaniel Y walked in and we were introduced. Mr. Y is on the dig and goes to Drew. Soon after none other than Bob C and Carol & Murray M came in. Yes, they’re staying here too! And Bob C’s 15 year old son John. So Providence or something brought me to the right place!

June 12

Today Carol, Murray, John & I walked around the city and to the market. It is a world complete in itself. Awfully crowded and full of sad people. The refugees. But everyone is so friendly. It’s busy and bustling but relaxed. The tension of the states is not there. We went to the Roman Theatre (which is of course what the taxi driver wanted to show me! We actually saw him there) and were give a tour by a man named Elias who brought us to his friends’ shop afterward were we were given 7-Up for free.

We met up with more Heshbon people there. Pete S, Jim S, Oscar S and his son Tim(Jr. at Findlay in Ohio) and several of us went up a Jebel (mountain - 8 of them in Amman) to the museum there. That’s rough to run up a hill – you’ll see in slides – after having drunk a 7-Up very fast. I thought I might get the bends! Then we walked through the market. Crazy, but neat place. The sun is so bright here. The heat wouldn’t be bad if you didn’t charge around like we were. I drank 1 OJ, 3 7-Ups, 1 Pepsi (Coke is Israeli owned – we don’t drink it!)(Arab boycott of Israeli goods at that time) 10 gallons of water 2 cups of tea today and I have only been to the bathroom once! That’s how hot it is!

This is a picture of the jebel we hiked up so fast and the view from the top of it. As I recall it was an ancient temple and fortifications. The King's palace was on a nearby jebel.

Tonight we all (above mentioned plus a guy named Bill U) went to a restaurant. I had kabob with yogurt. Good! Real Arabic food. These people are half and half fundamental. Some of the kids more so than the professors and preachers. Really nice people. You won’t believe how polite and considerate! You could meet a lot worse people. We walked back to Mount Hotel and discussed plans for tomorrow when we leave for Petra at 6 am. From here with our luggage to get it to ACOR to be taken to Madaba. It doesn’t pay to be anxious here. The continual saying is “It will be taken care of – five minute.” Bangor made the Herald Tribune International Edition! I’ll save it. (I don’t have a clue about this and probably didn’t save it!) Well, I’d better get to bed. The Muezzin call to prayer is in 6 hours (5 am). This is a good city. Easier to understand than Athens. It is more of one mind. Having a great time! Love Nance