Jordan--ALONE

I went to Jordan a few weeks ago, but I guess I wasn't exactly ALONE. I was with Ed and 90 other BYU people, but I didn't have any kids with me, so I FELT solitary. It was a fantastic four days, restful and fun. From the minute we crossed the Israel-Jordan border I felt like I had truly stepped into the Middle East. Israel is so modern and Jerusalem is so like a European city, that to cross into Jordan was like stepping into a National Geographic magazine. For starters, the border station was full of old men wearing kafiyahs, sitting and smoking cigarettes like they had nowhere in the world to go. Amman was a strange confluence of traditional Jordanian/Beduin clothing and modern architecture. And Petra was... well, it was just Petra. Everyone in the world should have the chance to see Petra before they die.

DAY 1

After making our way through the border, we visited three sites on our way south to Wadi Musa (the town at the entrance to Petra), where we would stay overnight. First we visited Mt. Nebo, where Moses viewed the promised land before he died, then Madaba, to see the earliest known map of the Holy Land, and then to Macherus, Herod's hilltop winter palace where John the Baptist was beheaded.

On the top of Mt. Nebo; on a clear day you can see for hundreds of kilometers. The problem is, that it is only clear right after it rains, which happens a handful of times in a year.

The Madaba map is a Byzantine mosaic from the 6th century which decorates the floor of a church. It is amazingly well-preserved, and the oval section in the photo above represents the city of Jerusalem.

This picture is much darker, but you can better see the intricacies of the mosaic.

Ed and I on the top of Macherus, looking down to the Dead Sea.
[Photo courtesy of Jed Jones, student and self-designated Stratford paparazzi.]

This is the view northward from where we were sitting in the previous photo. Desolate, yes? Can you imagine having your winter palace in a place like this? Can you imagine being locked up in a place like this? We visited this site just after I had taught a seminary lesson on the life and role of John the Baptist, so this was a meaningful place for me. After filling such an important role, John suffered such a horrible death. The Lord must have a special reward for him.

All over Jordan (and much of Israel) there are natural caves in the hills and the rocks that people still live in, or use when they are out tending their flocks, etc. Notice on the left side of the photo, you can see how someone bricked up the cave's entrance and then rebuilt a 'proper' door.

DAY 2

We arrived at Petra shortly after 7 a.m., followed our guide through the narrow slot canyon that leads to the most famous face of Petra, the Treasury (featured in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade). It truly was stunning, but I was overwhelmed before we even got there. There were carvings in the rock all along the trail that hinted at what was to come, included a water-gathering system, religious shrines, and ladders up the sheer rock face.

This narrow channel lined the walls of the canyon and was used to funnel rainwater to the city to be stored in cisterns.

The Indiana Jones view of the Treasury.

Here is the famous Treasury, with our fantastic, entertaining and personable guide Eyad. We really enjoyed him and he seemed to enjoy our group as well. He was very knowledgeable, flexible, and told good jokes.

Here's an example of the ladders carved in the walls, this one next to the facade of the Treasury.

Ed and I decided to hike a lesser-known path up to the overlook and around the back side of the hills to the south of the main street. It was quiet and hid some amazing sights.

The trails were lined with individual shanteys, many of which served as home for the Beduin who used the structures to sell trinkets. I have no idea what kind of living these people make, but when we got a little out of the main thoroughfare we could see the Beduin village off to the south, and hear the children playing and the bells ringing around the goats' necks. Many of the shacks like the one above were staffed by women, some holding children. One woman was particularly memorable--dressed in traditional Beduin robes and head scarves, she had braces and was talking on her cell phone as she crouched next to her storefront, selling beaded necklaces. It made me wonder--how many of these merchants are conscious that they are selling an image and an experience along with their jewelry?

This lion used to have a head, which used to be a fountain. The water channel ran down the rock directly above Ed's head, and the water would have run out of the lion's mouth.

Some of the rock had such beautiful striations. It reminded me of The Wave, the slickrock formation on the border of Utah and Arizona. 

A view from inside one of the "buildings." Most of the structures at Petra are much shallower than this one.

Called The Monastery, this structure dwarfs the Treasury. It was a long hike to get to it, but well worth it. Stunning. It is incomprehensible to me that people without power tools, 2000 years ago, could make these something like this. [Photo credit: Jed Jones]

A close-up of Ed and I from the above picture. [Again, Jed Jones]

The view from the hike to the Monastery. It's so much like southern Utah!

My handsome husband 

 DAY 3

We drove from Petra up to Amman to stay the night, 

Walking around in Amman that evening, we passed the Iraqi embassy with this representation of the Gates of Ishtar (from ancient Babylon) on the front. Ed wanted a picture in front of it, so he crossed the street to ask the guard for permission, which was denied. The guard was rather confrontational about it, and as soon as I could see that Ed wasn't going to get anywhere with him, I quickly and quietly snapped this picture. I probably deserve to go to jail, but I'm glad I'm not in a Jordanian prison.

and the next day went to the Citadel museum in Amman in the morning, 

Ed at the Citadel museum which was mostly underwhelming except for the above: the oldest representation of the human form, recovered from Ain Ghazal on the outskirts of Amman, dating from between 7250 and 5000 BC. [Yep, Jed Jones]

to the Jabbok River, where Jacob wrestled the angel,

and Jerash, a Roman city from the time of Christ, in the afternoon. Jerash is an incredible site--acres and acres of a ruined Roman city, complete with reconstructed temples, pillared roadways, Byzantine churches, market squares, and excavated homes.

Jerash is an ancient site on the outskirts of a modern city, and I thought this photo captures well that juxtaposition of tradition and progress. 

This is the reconstructed city center. Straight ahead leads into the main thoroughfare where you can still see the wheel ruts from wagons and chariots.  

This two-man pipe and drum band was camped out in the amphitheater, busking for tips. The drummer joined in when we sang the BYU fight song, then asked Ed "You are in charge of all this group? And you give such a small tip? Come on, you should give a little more." Middle Eastern commercial exchange is so different than in the West!

Ed and I, walking down a side road in Jerash. [Thanks, Jed. This one I'm going to enlarge and frame.]

The (non) highlight of the day was the Royal Automobile Museum. Perhaps because it wasn't introduced with much context, King Hussein's collection of vintage motorcycles and automobiles was received by many of the students merely as a time-filler, instead of as an interesting commentary on Middle Eastern machismo and the confluence of Eastern and Western ideals and technology. I enjoyed the museum, primarily because I knew my brother and my dad would be salivating if they were there. So here are a couple pictures for Dad and Pete.

The BMW Z1. I was going to buy it for you, Dad, but the interior color is all wrong. 

Throughout the many hours of bus trips, Ed and I were asked repeatedly to tell the story of how we met, but it seemed like someone always missed the telling and wanted us to do it again. So I told everyone that the last night, Ed and I would tell the story one last time at 10:00 in the hotel lobby. We had quite a turnout, considering this was the third time I'd told the story on this trip alone!

Perhaps it simply feeds my ego, but I really love telling about how Ed and I finally ended up together, and it makes me feel good to think that all these students find us interesting enough to actually care about our stories. I think they are an amazing group of young adults, and I'm grateful to get to spend time with them.

 DAY 4

The last day included a quick trip to the center of Amman to see the amphitheater and the museum of popular culture located (in this photo) at the center left--you can just barely see half the doorway. A collection of local dress and jewelry, it was one of my favorite things in Jordan, and I was so enthralled by the exhibits I completely forgot to take any pictures of it. It was just a small little museum, but well-organized and full of stunning textile and handiwork.

They still use this place for concerts!

On the way back to the border, we stopped at the Jordanian side of Qasr al-Yahud, the baptismal site of "Bethany beyond Jordan" (which I posted about a couple months ago). Ed and I both look old and thick in this photo, but I guess that's to be expected at our age. It's probably not the camera putting on the ten pounds--we did that all on our own.

[Can we hire you permanently, Jed?]

Here are a couple more photos a student sent to us a few months later. I liked them too much not to include them: 

POSTSCRIPT:
On the Summer Term trip to Jordan, Ed's bus broke down three times. Fortunately, the first two times were near some very interesting historical sites, and the the third time was a quick fix. The first breakdown was near the UNESCO World Heritage Site Umm Ar Rasas and the Church of St. Stephen, which contains the largest, most perfectly preserved floor mosaic in Jordan.

Halloween, Olive Pressing and Other Stuff

Halloween:

Israelis and Palestinians don't do Halloween, so we had our own festivities at home. The BYU students not only opened their doors for the kids of the Center and the Branch to trick-or-treat, but they went all out and dressed up in costume, plus created a spook alley. The kids thought it was fantastic.

Isaac dressed up as his dad, Linda is a princess, Abby a ballerina, Mary called herself a Chinese princess (despite my repeated attempts to explain the origins of a kimono), and Joe was a skeleton. This was his first long-sleeved shirt in about eight months, and he hated it, tugging at the sleeves all evening.

Lately Linda wants to take care of Joe, trying to carry him places, feed him, and correct his mistakes.  It's sweet but a little difficult for her, since he's almost as tall as her and weighs two-thirds what she does.

Pumpkins do exist in the Holy Land, but they are really hard to find. Peppers, however, are plentiful, so we did mini-carvings this year. 

It was quite hard to light them, mostly because the bottom inside is so uneven.
But once we figured it out, they looked really cool!

Ed solved the candle problem by turning his pepper upside down to carve it.  Can you see how he made his face have a tremendous nose? He won the Most Creative again this year.

The Inn of the Good Samaritan:

Just east of Jerusalem, down the hill to Jericho are the remains of a Byzantine (6th century AD) church that was once a pilgrimage site for visitors to the Holy Land who wanted to envision the Lord's parable of the Good Samaritan. Today the church has been excavated and partially reconstructed for those who want to have any kind of worship service there, but is also a mosaic museum. The kids and I went there one morning and really enjoyed ourselves, but apparently it wore them out (ridiculous--the place was about one acre square). They perked right up at the end when they saw the Angry Birds popsicles for sale at the gift shop.

Olive Pressing:

The Center has all sorts of different plant life on the grounds, most notably being the olive trees. In the fall, the students (and Center children) pick the olives and a week later have the chance to press them in the Biblical Garden. This year was a late harvest, and the Biblical Garden was under construction, so it was muddy and chilly when it came time to press the olives.  But the kids had a great time. I was teaching Seminary when the three older ones were participating, but Abby and Joe and I made it to the festivities at a later time.

Abby with one of her favorite people, Calahan L. Actually, Cal courted Abby's attentions from the very beginning--he was completely smitten with her and she played hard to get. 

Joe mostly wanted to throw rocks. The wheel for the first stage of the olive pressing is in the background.

And here's a miscellaneous photo from a spice and candy shop in the Old City. It's a pyramid made of spices with a replica of the Dome of the Rock on top. 

We're safe and sound, I promise!

Hi all,

For those of you who may be following the news, I just want to reassure you that we are well and safe here at the Jerusalem Center. The Security here is a knowledgeable and capable team of both Israelis and Palestinians that know this area and all its potential as well as anyone could. When the hostilities began to escalate a few days ago, we were cautioned to be careful and given specific instructions of how to stay safe. This morning we were told to stay out of East Jerusalem and the Old City, but that is fairly common on Fridays because of the Muslim and Jewish Sabbaths and the heightened tensions on the Temple Mount/Dome of the Rock on that day. 

Regarding the rocket shot at Jerusalem this evening:

About 4:45 pm I was in the kitchen making dinner when I heard the warning siren. Immediately after, the Center's warning siren went off and the Security Chief's voice came over the intercom, directing us all to move to the bomb shelters (there are two here on the grounds). I scooped up the kids, a couple security blankets, two diapers and a bag of pretzels, and walked up a flight to the sixth floor shelter. This is also the room where Abby and Joe have nursery, there are chairs, a small table, and two foosball tables. Mary was pretty upset, but the other kids were having a great time playing with the students. Within about twenty minutes they let us go back to our regular life with this explanation:

As soon as the rocket left the Gaza border, the Israeli defense system detected the rocket's trajectory and sounded the alarm in Jerusalem. It landed about 8 or 10 miles south of us in a field and did no damage (these rockets don't explode, they simply hit things). Israeli authorities think it's highly likely that Hamas only had a couple rockets that could make it all the way to Tel Aviv or Jerusalem, and they have expended those. Also, the Center is only 1 kilometer from the Dome of the Rock, and obviously Muslims want to avoid damaging that. The more pressing concern for the security of those at the Jerusalem Center is the possible unrest in the neighborhoods around the Center, which are predominantly Palestinian. After everything returned to normal this evening, I have heard a lot of loud music, fireworks, and celebratory honking. If Israel begins a ground offensive, it is likely there may be demonstrations in the Old City or in East Jerusalem, in which case we will probably be confined to the Center. Also, the students are scheduled to head to Galilee on Monday, and if things get dicey here in Jerusalem, we can all head up there earlier and stay there indefinitely. (The Galilee is much too far for any unrest from Gaza to reach, although if things heat up with Syria, it may not be as safe as otherwise.)

So that's that. Mary and Isaac were a bit traumatized--Mary did a lot of crying while we were in the shelter, and after we got back home Isaac just wanted all the information he could get. But they are all sleeping peacefully now and hopefully they will feel calm again by tomorrow. I'll keep you posted on anything that happens, but you can get pretty good up-to-the-minute information at Jerusalem Post online (www.jpost.com). As for me, Ed's in Chicago for a Conference until late Monday night, and I'll be glad when he's back.

Trust me, we're fine. Hope you are all too.

Narrative

I feel overwhelmed lately by my efforts to create narrative structures of my life.

Let me explain:

A narrative structure is a story that gives meaning and order to something. Thus the narrative structures of my life are the stories that I tell myself in order to make all the aspects of something fit neatly into packages of meaning. For seminary, I am constantly reading the Gospels and attempting to fit the stories and doctrines into nice, neat, 50-minute packages of meaning that are inclusive and bounded. For my school work, I read novels and short stories and plays that are narrative packages with specific messages, about which critics write nice, neat, bounded packages called "critical articles" that develop one particular aspect of the novel or short story or play.

But the the best example of my creating a narrative structure is this blasted blog. Now that I am committed to writing it (since I'll have no other journal of my experience here), I find myself living in ways that will facilitate neatly packaged blog posts. When I visit a religious site, interact with my children or the students, or even do my daily chores, I am always slightly removed from the experience because I am always asking the question "How best can I represent this in the blog?" Then I struggle to make all my pictures, all my activities, and all my thoughts fit into a nice neat package that I can present with a clever title.


Constantly attempting to create narrative structures can be a good thing. Human beings are conditioned to understand the linear progression of a story. Meaning comes from organizing time and event into a meaningful pattern, be it chronological, thematic, doctrinal, etc. When we see how "one thing leads to another," we have a sense of "why" things are the way they are. Thus, when I want someone to understand why I am what I am or why I feel what I feel, it is often easiest to tell a story. Additionally, prophets counsel us to write in our journals for the particular reason that they help us to make meaning from our life experiences, hopefully uncovering the meaning that God wants us to see.

But while this narrative habit is good for helping me to more deeply analyze and find meaning in my life, it also has drawbacks.
It's tiring.
It can be artificial.
The constant effort to determine the proper representation of something presented (i.e. lived) creates distance between ourselves and that with which we are interacting. For example, I see Joe making funny faces at Abby and the two of them laughing at one another. I scramble to get my camera and get a video or snapshot of just the right moment that will perfectly represent the cuteness of what I am witnessing. But since I am a lousy photographer (and videographer) chances are I will only get blurry photos of strange expressions or a video of my voice attempting to cajole Abby and Joe into playing with each other again. And the moment will have gone and I will have missed nearly all of it in my attempts to capture it.

So what shall I do with my narrative structures? Chances are I'll keep creating them for Seminary and for school.  But I'm going to try more often to just enjoy the moments when Abby and Joe are giggling at each other, or when I witness a moving cultural or religious event, without racing for my camera or mentally organizing it as it happens. This means I probably won't be able to share it with you in quite the same way. So when instead of posting well-crafted, perfectly organized, and wittily titled stories I just say "I witnessed something great," you'll just have to take my word for it.

The Dome of the Rock/The Temple Mount

All around the Dome of the Rock are these Ottoman stone gateways. They are one of my favorite parts of the Mount.

The most recognizable place in perhaps all of the Middle East is a place with two names. If you are Jewish you call it the Temple Mount, and it includes the Western (Wailing) Wall. If you are Muslim you call it The Dome of the Rock, or Haram El-Sharif. To call it by the wrong name in the wrong company can lead to very heightened feelings, so sometimes, when I'm not sure of my audience, I feel a bit tongue-tied in trying to identify it. It is a place that is frequently shut down on Fridays because of protests or small riots. The Arab organization that runs the Dome of the Rock, in conjunction with the Israel police that keep the peace there, have no qualms about shutting it down at a moment's notice, no matter how many thousand of pilgrims are lined up to get up there. I've tried a number of times to visit it, and was increasingly frustrated by the fact that the beautiful golden dome was so close but so inaccessible. Finally on October 9th I got lucky. The site was open and the line was minimal, so Jill and Karla and I--with Joe in tow--finally got to tour it. They had both been before, but I don't know that it ever gets boring. It's certainly not to the thousands of Christian, Muslim and Jewish worshippers that come here daily. 

To get up onto the Temple Mount you have to go through tight security, then up an old wooden bridge/tunnel that was built years ago as a temporary means of moving tourists up to the platform. Every time someone suggests closing the Mount to build a new, safer walkway that actually conforms to building codes, there is such an outcry that it is postponed again. As you walk up the tunnel, you can look out through the slats onto the courtyard in front of the Western Wall. 

Joe and the rest of us were fascinated by the ceremony of a young boy receiving his first phylacteries. Although the courtyard is separated for men and women, the women of this boy's family were all perched on chairs, looking over the makeshift wall, in order to photograph the event.

Here is a photo of other worshippers at the wall (the men's side).

Once you get up on top of the Mount, there is a working mosque and a small archaeological museum. But mostly, there is just the Dome. Mary (from her school tour of the Old City) informed me that the gold layer on the dome is very thin, but not polished, because if it were polished it would blind us all.

With the well-traveled and very knowledgeable (especially about fine chocolate) Karla Schade.  

The fountain for ceremonial washing before entering the sanctuary. The shadows are bad here, but you can still see the seats and spigots circling the fountain.

The Dome of the Rock sits right up against the eastern wall of the Old City of Jerusalem. There used to be another gate on that side--the Golden Gate--but it has been bricked up for years. Here is Joe walking along the ledge above the gate, assisted by Jill, one of the most generous and genuinely loving people I have ever met. 

After returning into the streets of the Old City, I saw this beautiful old doorway. Jill taught me that the black stencil to the right of the door says the inhabitants of this home have made the hajj (the pilgrimage to Mecca).