A Walk Down the Beach

A few days ago I asked myself, if I were in the states for Memorial Day, what would I be doing?  The answer, hands down, was going to the beach.  Since I am already living on one of the best beaches in northern Israel, I decided that a weekend of fun in the sun was in order.  Apparently lots of Israelis agreed with that sentiment because the beaches were packed.

When I say "beaches" I actually mean four beaches that stretch from north to south along the promenade.  The first beach is Carmel Beach "Hof Carmel" which is right outside of our hotel window.  It's a beach of two bays and one breakwater which makes it pleasant for swimming even when the rest of the sea is wavy.  They remodeled two lifeguard huts (one on each bay), added sprinklers and outdoor showers for rinising off and created a sandy soccer field in the center of the beach as part of the 2011 improvements to the area.  Unfortunately, the lifeguard on the southern beach enjoys his megaphone a little too much and is constantly shouting Hebrew at the swimmers.  No one seems to change their behavior after such admonishments, so we're not sure what he's saying.  They have roped off half of the bay as a "no swimming zone," but on calm days there were as many people in the roped off area as the permited one.  This is Israel--rules are for bending.

Further south along the promenade, one comes upon Zamir Beach.  Zamir is a good place for surfers, wind surfers, and paddle boarders.  You usually see a bunch of guys in wetsuits hanging out on the grassy hills, resting until it's time to hit the water again.  Zamir is also home to my favorite bird in Israel, the hoopoe, which is the only ground-dwelling woodpecker alive today.  It's a pretty bird and it's common to see it poking its long bill into the grass along this stretch.  There is one very new beach bar on Zamir called Nirvana.  It just opened a few months ago and it is the hip place to hang out.  They host parties in their beach bar every weekend and have to use a bouncer to keep people out.  Unlike the US, the parties take place in the afternoon and are well wrapped up by sundown.

Past Zamir, we have Dado Beach which is very kid and family friendly.  The city of Haifa recently installed grass over half of the sand here to make the beach more comfortable.  They also have errected large wooden gazebos to shade beachgoers.  Dado starts at a dolphin pool where kids can play in 1.5 ft of water.  The city even employs a lifeguard to watch the pool!  Every morning they refresh the water and every morning it looks inviting as we walk by it to work.  It is very popular with young kids (and there are a lot of them in Israel).  Just past the pool is my favorite beach restaurant, Kadarim, which is named after a pottery shop that has been on that spot since the 1920's.  The sons of the current generation thought it would be better as a restaurant and now they make delicious kebabs instead of pots.  You can sit on their patio and watch fishermen try their luck at the municipal dock/breakwater. 
Past the dock you reach party central at the two hottest and largest beach bars in the area (Camel and Seasons Beach).  These bars play music and set out chairs in the sand where clients can drink and party to their hearts' content.  The sign for Camel looks like reused lettering from a defunct Camel cigarette billboard.  It's an odd bit of recycling but strangely appropriate for Israel. Since these bars are also just across from the train and bus stations, they are convenient to the bikini-clad highschoolers and college couples.  There is a beach volley ball area and a few more wooden gazebos and then the boardwalk ends.

This is South Beach.  South Beach is real and unimproved (the other beaches are combed every morning and have had all the large rocks and shells removed).  It stretches from the train station in Haifa all the way to Atlit--much further than we could walk in an afternoon.  It is all sand and shells and as much space as you like.  The northern section near the parking lot is always filled with serious matkot players.  Matkot or "ting tong" is a game played with wooden paddles and a squash ball (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matkot).  The paddles are hollow and make a great "thunk" when they hit the ball.  A pair playing the game will make a regular "ting-tong-ting-tong" that can be heard down the beach.  For some reason, the serious players like South Beach and you can see them every weekend going at each other with true competitive spirit.  Amongst this multitude you usually see an ice cream truck.  This is just a brightly colored truck that will sell ice cream, beer or other cold drinks.  For an American, the idea of an ice cream truck that also sells beer is very strange indeed.

Past the trucks, the beach opens up into a more natural landscape.  To the east, large sand dunes rise up, a favorite stomping ground for ATV riders.  To the west, large sandbars stretch for miles, allowing us to walk in 2-3 ft of water without trouble when the sea is calm.  There are always large deposits of clam and scallop shells along the beach here and I assume they come from colonies that are buried by the sand.  Yesterday we saw the shell of a very cool green and white mottled crab that hides in the sand.  If you keep walking south, eventually the sand gives way to a rocky outcropping of sandstone tidepools. In some of the pools the sun has evaporated all of the water, leaving a sparkling crust of salt. Past those is more sand.

We've seen all types of people on the beach, from highschoolers in bikinis to Muslim women wrapped up in headscarves and robes.  We've seen old men tanned so brown they look like cooked steaks wearing nothing but a speedo and old women dressed as if they were going to a fancy dinner.  We've seen brides posing for pictures on the promenade and runners with ipods sprinting past them.  We have seen a man taking his macaw for a walk on his shoulder and another coming back from spear fishing with two fish in his hands.  Kids and dogs run around the sand and everyone is smiling. 

Regardless of what's happening elsewhere in the world, regardless of political tensions or prescribed religious behavior, there is always a good atmosphere at the beach.  People relax, wear as much or as little as they like, and enjoy the sun; there is more than enough for everyone.

Twitching, Israeli Style

First, for those of you unfamiliar with the term, "twitching" is the British word for "birdwatching."  Not that I'm British, or anything like that, but I adore the word, so "twitching" it is.

I didn't think that birding would be high on the list of things to do in Israel.  You don't normally think of Israel as a land rich in waterbirds, or any birds at all, but it really is a central stop on the Eurasian migration path.  There's even a kibbutz that specializes in birdwatching:
http://www.birdingisrael.com/birdsOfIsrael/
Like so many things in Israel, even the wildlife is surprising.

The Israelis take an interesting approach to wildlife management--take for example the crane migration.  Every fall, thousands of cranes flock to the Galilee on their way to better feeding grounds in Africa.  They settle in farmer's fields and eat the stubble or whatever remains of the grain harvest.  In the California, the sandhill cranes take over the flooded rice fields in the Sacramento River delta.  They attract some crowds, but are largely left to their own devices.  In Israel they feed the cranes.  In order to keep the cranes within the wildlife preserve and out of the other fields where they could destroy real crops, the wildlife managers go out every morning during the migration and spread the preserve with corn.  This concentrates the cranes into a nice viewing area and provides the country with the family-friendly tourist attraction of the season.  Thousands of cranes flock to Lake Agamon every year and every year they receive the same warm welcome.

The lake itself is "artificial"--a reclamation of habitat aimed at reducing pollution into Lake Kinnereth.  It is huge, ringed by 10km of track, which makes it one of the largest preserves on fertile land and very attractive to all sorts of people.  When you think "birdwatcher" in the states, the image pops to mind of some nature lover, binoculars in hand, walking at an almost imperceptibly slow pace, trying not to disturb the birds flying about.  The Israeli version is somewhat different.  They rent golf carts or pedal cars and drive around the lake like they drive along every other road.  At each designated viewpoint, they park their cart in the designated lot and disembark to check out the birds.  Then, back in the car for the next bit of track.  Birds seen or not seen between the viewpoints don't matter.

We walked around the lake (a half day undertaking), but enjoyed the unique birds in the fields and the waterways.  Some of the most striking were the european bee-eater (yes, they eat bees) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/European_Bee-eater) and the white-throated kingfisher (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White-throated_Kingfisher).  Both sport gorgeous iridescent feathers of a turquoise blue color.  The pied kingfisher also made an appearance, fishing in the shallow canals.  There were herons (night herons and purple herons) and large white storks in the fields.  As the storm cleared, hundreds of storks took to the air to ride the updraft enmasse.

One of the more interesting animals was not a bird, but a South American rodent that looks like a muskrat.  The coypu runs rampant in the preserve.  We saw them near every canal and even saw one's burrow into the bank.  They rip plants out by their roots and seemed to be having a grand time in the greenery around the canals.  A ranger told us that they had been introduced to Israel in hopes of starting a fur trade, but apparently, in the warm climate of the Galilee, the fur they developed was inferior and unfit for market.  At least they kept still long enough for me to take a good picture--unlike the birds!

We really enjoyed the lake and will definitely be back--next time with a better lens and hopefully a good shot of the elusive bee-eater.  In the meantime, enjoy some pictures below:

Wildlife of the lake in English and Hebrew

Coypu, I see you!

Bee-eater

Bee-eater in flight

Storks in flight in Tzippori

Hundreds of storks take to the air (see dots?)

Field Guide to Israeli birds





These girls weren't seeing many birds, but they had fun

Small Addictions: Fresh Juice and Arabic Coffee

A few days ago while we were walking home from work along the beach boardwalk I confessed to Kenny that I could never leave Israel.  "How will I live without my fresh-squeezed juice?" I lamented.  I am completely and hopelessly addicted to purchasing juice made from fruit while I watch.  It is really amazing to go into a restaurant and expect that the lemonade was made from lemons--that day!  Is it so ridiculous to expect the same level of quality from my juice back in the states?  I know it's harder to make and more expensive and time consuming, but really, the product is amazing.  If there are any entrepreneurs out there reading this, think of how to make a market model work with fresh juice, please!  And while you are at it, try and get a decent pita-making oven as well.  Pitas in the states don't taste anything like the ones you can get here.

Yum!

I am also hopelessly addicted to Arabic coffee, but that piece of heaven I'll be able to take home with me, courtesy of some very heavy souveniers.  I didn't know the first thing about making coffee the Arabic way when I got here.  I fell in love with the Arabic coffee pot or dallah based on its unique shape and clean lines.  It was a piece of art and I wanted one to commemorate my time in the Middle East.  We found a lovely, heavy one in a shop just outside Petra in Jordan.  I liked its clean lines and tarnished brass--a real part of history.  You could look at the pot and imagine all of the people who might have used it and enjoyed it in the years past. 

Kenny believed that it still had some usefulness left.  Where I saw an art object, he saw a coffee maker, which I suppose is fair.  We cleaned out the cobwebs and looked up a recipe for Arabic coffee online: step 1, procure a dallah.

The secret to the unique coffee is a very fine grind of the coffee and the inclusion of cardamom seeds and possibly cinnamon sticks in the brewing process.  Coffee, spices, sugar and water all go into the pot and are brought to a boil.  Once it boils, reduce the heat to a simmer and simmer until the whole room smells delicious (30-45 minutes).

Our dallah on the stove

Then, the coffee is poured into another serving pot (keeping the "muddy" grounds in the dallah) from which it is poured into small china cups.  One cup is supposed to suffice for a caffeine jolt, but we generally liked 2-3 cups.  It tastes so good that I guess it's worth sacrificing my decoration for tasty utility.  Imagine putting an Italian pump espresso maker on display--not so good.

Pouring the coffee

Enjoying breakfast

Recipe for Arabic Coffee (Brand's style):
1/2 cup Turkish coffee (an extremely fine grind of coffee, like espresso)
8 full cardamom pods
1 large cinnamon stick
2.5T sugar
fill the pot 3/4 full of water
bring to boil, then simmer for 30-45 minutes

This Month in Israel: Holiday Time

This month has been an interesting one. 


The holiday mood and return to normal food after Passover was quickly dampened by the commemoration of

Holocaust Remembrance Day (May 3)  In honor of the six million Jews who met their end at the hands of Nazi Germany, a monotone air-raid siren sounded for 2 minutes during which people stopped what they were doing.  In the office, everyone stood for the duration of the siren.  On the road, most cars pulled over, drivers got out of their cars and stood up.  Walkers on the beach froze where they were.  It was amazingly silent.  Stores were closed that day but the beach restaurants remained open because they are always open.
After Holocaust Day the festivities returned bigger than ever.  Israeli flags began popping up everywhere on all buildings, on cars, and on roadways.  If a flag could be affixed to a surface, it was.  At work we had a delicious barbeque and the first watermelon of the season.  This was all in preparation for

Memorial Day (May 9)  Like Holocaust Day, this one was very somber, but at least we got a half-day holiday from work.  Memorial Day is dedicated to all of the soldiers and civilians who have died for the country.  Since military service is nearly universal, many families have a personal loss to commemorate.  The cemeteries on the hill across from our hotel were packed.  At 10:00 the same monotone siren sounded for 2 minutes, during which everything stopped, as before.  Except, unlike, May 3rd when only most of the cars stopped, on May 9th, every car pulled over.  After the siren, we watched the ceremony at Mt. Herzel in Jerusalem which is Israel's national cemetery.  It was on all channels, even cable.  At noon, the ceremonies at the cemeteries finished up and tons of people went back on the road.  Kenny drove out to the Galilee that afternoon and you could tell that the normally impatient Israeli drivers were in an especially black and aggressive mood.  But all that was forgiven at sun down as the fireworks lit the sky over Atlit to kick off

Navy parade outside our window for Independence Day

Flyover in celebration of 63 years

Independence Day (May 10)  If Memorial Day is like a funeral, Independence Day is the wake when everyone celebrates life.  We had especially wonderful weather and it seemed like the entire country was in a partying mood.  The navy paraded down the Mediterranean right in front of our window, followed by a fly-by of planes in tight formation.  Flags were flying all over and it was easy to feel proud to be an adopted Israeli for this day.  We went out to Akko/Acre and were surprised how many Jewish people were enjoying themselves in this Arab seaside town.  For once, there were more women around who had their hair uncovered.  It was a really great day.  Flags are still flying, but the mood became more tense this week as the Palestinians celebrated

Nabka Day (May 15)  Nabka, or "catastrophe" in Arabic, is the commemoration of the incredible defeat of the Arab armies by the young Israeli army in 1948.  This year protesters mobbed the fences in Syria, Lebanon and the West Bank.  Palestinians paraded with oversize keys, illustrating their "right to return" to the houses they left when they fled the land that became Israel in 1948.  This is a big problem for the two-state solution, as any agreed-upon border will leave the refugees without a right to claim land in a sovereign state where they hold no citizenship.  I'm curious to see what the US president has to say on the matter.  That will probably simmer until September and will be forgotten when Israel celebrates


Lag Ba'Omer (May 21-22) This, I kid you not, is a "festive day celebrated with outings on which children traditionally play with bonfires, bow and arrows, and other joyous events."  Wait, children + bonfires? bow and arrows??  Where are the child safety advocates?  Don't they know that bonfires and bow and arrows are dangerous?!  Fortunately, there is not a strong litigious culture here in Israel to dampen the fun.  A coworker of mine also pointed out that in addition to being a festive holiday, Lag Ba'Omer is a bit of an environmental disaster as all of the smoke from the bonfires pollutes the air.  "Make sure to keep your windows closed," he advised.

This dangerous and environmentally semi-abusive holiday will bring the month of May crashing to a close, or the End of the World (May 21) might bring everything to a close, according to some. (We're still here)


Enjoy the barbeque and melons during your relatively uncomplicated Memorial Day in the US and think of us in Israel cleaning up the ashes and preparing for another holiday, Shavuot, on June 8.

All About Camels

When I first came to Israel I was a complete ignoramous when it came to the subject of camels.  I had seen them in the zoo, of course.  I think I even rode one in a circle when I was 5--it was either that or an elephant.  So I had no idea what to expect in Arabia, the traditional home of the creatures.  When we went to Jordan Kenny and I both had the opportunity to spend 2 hours riding camels, after which we were happy to trade our saddles for a comfortable taxi back to Aqaba.

Amazing fact #1
There are no "wild" camels in Israel or Jordan.
Every camel is bred and branded by the tribe that owns the camel.  Camels will wander the desert in groups that look wild, but they are actually looked after by their Bedouin owners.  They are too valuable to release to the wild.

Amazing fact #2
Riding a camel hurts!
As you may be able to see in the pictures, the saddle for a camel has a front pommel and a back pommel.  This is to prevent the rider from slipping off in either direction as the camel stands up or sits down.  A camel will sit by bending the front legs or the back legs first which pitches the rider forwards on to the neck or backwards to the tail depending on which end went first.  It is generally good to have a back pommel but there must be a trick to riding that I never mastered because when the camels were brought up to a trot, my lower back slammed against the pommel and I had a big pomel-sized bruise for the next few days.  A camel is also much more narrow than a horse so whereas your legs can fit comfortably astride a horse's back, they are constantly swinging around on the camel and there are no stirrups.  Our guide rode with his legs crossed in the lotus position but that seemed to take more skill than we had.  I crossed my legs on the camels neck (see top photo) but that just rubbed my ankles raw.  You could say that we were simply inexperienced and that there are better ways to ride that we did not learn, but we met two women in our camp who had spent 5 hours on their camels for two days and who could barely walk by the end of their desert adventure.  Riding a camel hurts!

Amazing fact #3
10 out of 10 Bedouins prefer cars to camels.
Camels used to be the "ship of the desert" carrying everything from everywhere at a blistering 8 mph.  Today it is the Toyota 4x4.  Even when they are not hosting tourists, the Bedouin men load up their 4x4s and drive out to some remote corner of the desert for some basic R&R.  The trucks are faster, easier to manage, and more reliable.  Camel caravans are expressly for tourists.

Amazing fact #4
Water your camels every 10 days.
Although they will wander far from home, camels will return to a reliable source of water every 10 days.  They can go for up to 30 days without water, but after 10 days they will start to suffer.  In the spring they can go a little longer because the plants they are eating contain some water.  In summer, they need water like clockwork.

Amazing fact #5
If your camel goes missing in Jordan you can call Saudi Arabia.
The border between Jordan and Saudi Arabia cuts right through the desert south of Wadi Rum.  We could see it from our hike up Jebel al Khash.  It is highly policed on the Saudi side since it was a favorite route for drug runners wishing to get their product to market in the wealthy kingdom.  Bedouins cannot cross, but occasionally their camels do.  Since the camels are marked according to tribal origin, Bedouins in Saudi Arabia know when a camel shows up at their watering hole that is originally from Jordan.  They will deny it water and hope it goes back to its home on the Jordanian side.  If a Jordanian hasn't seen his camel for about 10 days, he may call his relatives on the Saudi side to see if they have seen his lost camel.

Amazing fact #6
Bedouins are extremely proud of their camels.
As we were returing to the village with our guide, we came upon a black camel with a white baby camel.  Our guide became instantly animated.  "Those are my camels," he said with such appreciation in his voice that we could tell these were his most valued treasures in the entire world.  A few minutes later we passed a group of childern driving a herd of goats in front of them.  "Those are my goats" he said proudly.  I asked him if the boys we had seen driving the goats were his.  "Oh, yes," he replied without enthusiasm.  "Those are my children."

Amazing fact #7
Riding a camel is really fun!
I hope that I have not deterred any potential camel riders in my audience.  Riding a camel is a great experience.  This was the favored mode of transportation for tons of goods and people for thousands of years and it definitely should be experienced, once.  A camel is much taller than a horse, so riding is like sitting on the top of an SUV, surveying the landscape from such an elevated position as to feel like a king or queen of it.  Camels are also extremely quiet.  When they walk on the sand they hardly make a noise with their big feet.  There is no "clop, clop" like shod horses, just a silent, smooth movement forward.  When roped together, camels will move in one fluid train--the silent "ships of the desert."  I really enjoyed my camel ride (see broad smile in picture above).  Come to Jordan and try it for yourself!

Oh, Little Town!

With my mother-in-law, who is all things Christmas, visiting us in Israel, we had to go see Bethlehem--the place where it all started.  Although high on our list of the areas of interest, Bethlehem had a huge asterix due to the fact that it is technically not in Israel.  It is ~6 miles from the Old City of Jerusalem, but under full Palestinian control in the West Bank Territories.  Traveling to Bethlehem is on one hand like crossing the border into Jordan (no Israeli rental cars allowed) and on the other hand like crossing from California to Nevada--it depends on whom you are with.  After experiencing Arab culture in Jordan, I decided that the best way into Palestine was in the company of another Palestinian.  The network of a native's friendship covers tour guides, restauranteurs, shop owners and military guards.  If you are a "friend" of a native, all doors are open to you.

Our native driver, Jozeph, is the embodiment of the political situation in Israel.  As an Israeli by birth, he is allowed to travel within the state, but his wife, a Palestinian woman with joint US citizenship, is restricted to the West Bank.  He met his wife while in Guatemala, but since she is Palestinian, she cannot live in Israel so he lives with her in Beit Sahour just outside of Bethlehem.  Jozeph has been to 22 states in the US, and his favorite place in California is Orange County.  While in Israel, he prominently displays a cardboard blue and white star of David from his rear view mirror.  Once he crosses the border into the West Bank, the cardboard disappears.  He is the rarest of all things in Israel and Palestine--a Roman Catholic Arab.

Christians are the least protected minority in the "Holy Land."  They do not even get their holy day, Sunday, off from work.  Weekends encompass the Muslim holy day, Friday, and Shabbat, Saturday.  Jozeph lives in Beit Sahour, literally, "the town of the savior," because it is 92% Christian whereas Bethlehem is 85% Muslim.  When we asked him what he thought about the current political problems, he said on one hand that the Muslims were causing all the trouble, while on the other, he pointed out the huge Jewish settlement that has recently been erected just outside Shepherd's Fields.  The Christians occupy what little is left of the middle ground or moderate perspective.

Aside from the somewhat tense political situation, Bethlehem is a very nice place to visit.  We enjoyed our trip to Manger Square and the Church of the Nativity although it is very strange to see Christmas decorations in the middle of May.  It was nice to see how many Christians from all over the world made the pilgrimage to this site.  We ate a fantastic feast (see pictures below) at the Grotto Restaurant just below Shepherd's Fields and found some very high quality olive wood carvings on Milk Grotto Street in Bethlehem.  Pictures are here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/17887598@N04/sets/72157626578967695/

"In Terra Pax Hominibus"

We're still waiting...

Our Taxi Adventures in Jordan

In all of my travels, taking a taxi in a foreign country has required a minor leap of faith.  A bus has a posted route and a time table--if you get on the right bus at the right time, your final destination is more or less guaranteed.  A taxi puts you completely at the mercy of a driver whom you have never met, who does not have a schedule or a posted route, and perhaps may have ulterior motives other than delivering you to the right place at the right time.  Taking a taxi means having faith in basic humanity, and it is always a relief when that faith is confirmed at the end of a long ride.

So I did not want to take a taxi in Jordan, but that's the best option for cheap and flexible transport where underemployment is the norm.  Our story starts on the last day we were staying in Aqaba. 
While walking past the taxi stand where men constantly call out "Do you want a taxi?" and we reflexivly answer, "no, thanks,"  I stopped and reconsidered.  "Actually," I said, "we do want a taxi tomorrow from Aqaba to Wadi Musa (Petra)."  I was instantly mobbed by three different guys.  One guy promising a new car with great air conditioning and a driver with good English thrust his business card into my hand.  We negotiated a rate, 35 JD for the two hour drive, and a time to be picked up in front of our hotel.  We walked away, satisfied in the arrangement, only to find that same guy running after us.  "Wait!" he called out.  "I wanted to tell you, I have another client in the morning.  I will send you with my brother, he's a nice guy.  He will pick you up.  Same rate."  "Okay," we replied and thought nothing of it other than a small worry that no one would show up the next day.

Our worries were unfounded.  A taxi (very old and with no working A/C) did in fact show up at the appointed time in front of our hotel.  An older man with a smoker's winded voice said he had been sent to take us to Petra.  I felt sorry for him having to manage our luggage--he did not seem fit for lifting heavy bags.  When we got in the car he promptly drove us to a back alley in the city and asked us for a 10 JD deposit.  10 JD?  We wondered if this was a type of extortion.  10 JD now and the rest when we get to Petra.  Kenny handed over the money and we waited while he disappeared into the warehouse.  He came back with a small can of gas and the top of a sawed off 2 liter plastic soda bottle.  The bottle was a funnel to guide the gas into the tank.  It was the strangest filling station I have ever seen.  Later, we learned that the gas was a higher grade of petrol that was smuggled into Jordan from Saudi Arabia.  The more legitimate stuff is imported from Iraq and is apparently not as good or as cheap.  So, with the gas in the tank, we took off. 

The driver's name was "Muosa" (pronounced "MOOSA") which is Arabic for "Moses" and is the same as Wadi Muosa the town near Petra named after Moses's Spring.  He was very entertaining and even in broken English knew how to show us a good time.  Upon approaching the first overlook to Petra he told us, "Now Muosa give you a good surprise.  Close eyes.  Keep them closed. Keep closed.  Keep closed.  Keep closed.  Okay, now open!"  We were perched on top of a cliff overlooking the rolling standstone mounds that surround the protected city of Petra.  It was very dramatic.  He took us into a nearby souvenier store and of course "negotiated" a good price for an antique coffee pot and cup that I liked.  I wasn't that averse to giving him a commission.  He was very nice.  He even posed with Kenny for two "pictures with Mousa." 

Picture with Muosa

During the journey he kept asking us about our plans in Jordan.  "After Petra, where you go?"  We said that we were going to Wadi Rum to live with the Bedouins.  "Ah, Zadayne!" he heartily exclaimed.  "I know him, he's a good man.  You have a good time with Zadayne!"  We were really going with Zalabeyh, but when that was worked out, he assured us that Zalabeyh lived very close to Zadayne and was also a good man.  We had planned to go by early bus to Wadi Rum but going by taxi would let us sleep in a few more hours so we said we could switch plans if we notified Zalabeyh not to meet the bus.  He called them up, spoke to Ahmed in Arabic and confirmed the change, just like they were good friends.  It was so easy!  To hold our reservation with Muosa, we gave him another 10JD "deposit."

Caveat Emptor.  I was looking forward to traveling again with Muosa, but when we were to depart from Petra a younger man in a pink and purple striped shirt appeared with a totally different taxi and assured us that he had been sent by Muosa, who was sick, to take us to Wadi Rum.  We got in the newer taxi and were off.  Again, we were taken to a souvenier stand--a different one--where I bought a small magnet (no more large purchases).  Then, the taxi started to act up.  Whenever the engine got above 2500 RPM it sputtered and jerked back and forth.  He met a fellow taxi driver who stopped in the middle of the road (also with perplexed western passenger) and his friend proceeded to fiddle with things under the hood.  That didn't help.  When his friend departed, it was as bad as ever.  He called Ahmed and told him that we would be late while he coaxed the poor car along the thankfully empty roads.  We arrived in Wadi Rum only 10 minutes late, but that was no problem.  Everyone in the parking lot offered me advice on how to find Ahmed and helped point us toward the village.  Sometimes answering the question "where are you going?" truthfully really pays off.  The taxi driver had shut off the taxi while we paid our park entrance fee but when we got back in the car to go to the village, it had miraculously recovered!  The driver couldn't decide whether to celebrate or curse.  He had turned down lucrative offers to drive to Petra so that he could take the car to a garage in Aqaba and now with the car working, he had no employment.  He got us to our destination, no problem, but the fare was a flat 35 JD and the prior 10 JD that we had given Muosa simply "disappeared."

So, to sum everything up, taking a taxi is risky venture, but I always come away from it with some degree of restored faith in general human decency and fellowship.  Our drivers were nice, trustworthy, and proud of their work.  Muosa was a great character and I'm happy that I met him, although like most people in the middle eastern tourist trade, I'm not sure he was entirely honest.

When we got back to Israel, we took a taxi from the border to the bus station.  When we asked how much it would be, the driver said, "it is metered."  When we explained that in Jordan all taxi fares were negotiated up front, he replied curtly, "this is a country of laws."  Kenny was absolutely thrilled to be back in a country of relative law and order, but I missed the personal connection we had had with our cabbies in Jordan.  We'll probably be telling these stories for many years to come.

Wadi Rum

Wadi Rum, a set on Flickr.

Desert life with the Bedouins

Petra

Petra, a set on Flickr.

Petra was very beautiful, with the Treasury and the Monastery as the highlights.