Jordan, day 10, and Syrian border "intrigue" (Friday)
Kamese came at the appointed time. We made our way to Jerash first. It is about 1.5 miles of ancient ruins with endless columns, amphitheater, and a place for chariot races complete with stone horse stalls. From MiddleEastUK.com:
Journey 40km north of Amman and you'll arrive at the ancient city of Jerash, a beautiful preserve of the Roman Empire. It is second only to Petra in tourist appeal and has a remarkable record of human settlement since Neolithic times. Few ancient towns are as well preserved and as complete as Jerash, a city complex that once was a thriving commercial zone and part of the Decapolis. Built in the 2nd century BC the city was conquered in 63 BC by the Roman General Pompey. It reached its peak in the 2nd century and declined after a series of Christian and Muslim invasions and by earthquakes in the mid 8th century.
We spent more than an hour there but it deserved a full day at least. We agreed it was better to get an introduction to many things than to miss many things altogether.
We next went to Ajloun Castle. Here a local named Mohammad offered to be our guide for 5 J.D. Since he spoke English fairly well we thought it would be good to learn as we looked. It was an extremely large and cleverly designed complex of towers, chambers, galleries, secret passageways and staircases. From Nabataea.net:
The Castle of Ajloun or Qalaat Errabadh (Arabic for "Hilltop Castle"), from which there is a splendid view westwards into the Jordan Valley. It looks like a Crusader fortress, but it was built by Muslims in 1184-85 as a military fort and buffer to protect the region from invading Crusader forces. It was built on the orders of the local governor, Ezz Eddin Osama bin Munqethe, a nephew of the Ayyubid leader Salahuddin Al-Ayyoubi (Saladin), as a direct retort to the new Latin castle of Belvoir (Kawkab El-Hawa) on the opposite side of the valley between the Tiberias and Besan, and as a base to develop and control the iron mines of Ajloun.
It was here that we made it known we would like to visit Syria. Mohammad offered to take us to Damascus and said there would be no price but for our pleasure. We didn't buy that. We remembered what Jesse had said about how they always promised to take you to Damascus but dumped you at the border, basically because most drivers do not own their cars and cannot legally go past the border. At this point we still thought we had arrangements with Kamese to let us out at the border and we'd take our chances on our own.
As we left Ajloun, Kamese asked in broken English, "You want go Damascus?" We replied, "Yes," and then he indicated he could take us, that his father lived there and that we could be guests in his home. Since we seemed to have a trusting relationship we believed this for a while. We were amazed at our good fortune. Not only would we have a Syrian adventure but we would have an authentic one with a local family. We were feeling great!
On our way to Umm Quays I inquired about the bunches of weeds people were carrying. Kamese said it was hummus. Since we had only known it as a beige mush for bread we were surprised. He pulled over and asked if we could have some and the man pulled off a portion of his weeds and gave them to us. We pulled off some of the green pods and shelled out the sweet pea tasting center. We enjoyed the fresh taste.
We arrived in Umm Quys to more elaborate Roman ruins. It overlooks the Sea of Galilee and the Golan Heights. A Palestinian named Isam was quick to point out that it was really part of Syria we were viewing, although it was controlled by Israel. He was kind to us but proceeded to tell us what "bullshit" the official history was. Somewhere in here I bent down to get my note pad, wanting to make note that we were viewing the Golan Heights and the Sea of Galilee (which is called Lake Kinneret on the Jordainian map). Isam spoke in Arabic to Kamese and then in English asked us suspiciously, "You want to go to Syria?" We said yes, that Kamese was taking us. There was more Arabic between them. Isam then said, "You do not want to go to Damascus. It is bad." When we asked why he said, "Uh, the traffic is bad and he cannot take you." We still did not quite understand.
As we left Umm Quays on the way to a restaurant and then the Syrian border, Kamese asked, "You want to go to Damascus?" and then laughed with an edge of cruelty. (Geez, didn't he already say he had family there, his father to be exact, and could drive us?) Then he said, "No go Damascus. Me have friend I call. He take." Hummm. "Where is your father?" I asked. He replied, "Amman." Hummmm again. Carla whispered to me, "His father moves pretty fast." The fact that the story was changing and every time the name of Syria came up around anyone there was a look of seriousness and suspicion made us change our minds. "We want to go back to Amman after we go to a restaurant."
At least we were taken, as requested, to a local non-tourist restaurant. We each had one half chicken and veggies for a total of 6 J.D. altogether. It was so authentic there were no utensils and I saw them put the veggies on our plate with their hands. We washed in the sink and ate with our fingers. Meanwhile Kamese's phone kept ringing and we heard the words "American tourist" and "Damascus" mentioned. We thought we had already made it clear we just wanted to go back to Amman. When he got off the phone we said again, "No Damascus. Go to Amman." Kamese said okay. Meanwhile local men gathered at the front of the restaurant and stared at us in a non-friendly way. I asked Kamese, "Problem for American in Syria?" He answered, "No problem for American. Problem for American diplomat." Did he think we were diplomats because he picked us up at the American center? It was getting weird.
After we left the restaurant I noticed Kamese did not turn toward Amman the way the sign directed but was following a sign that said in Arabic and in English, "to the Syrian border." I said, "No Syria. Amman." Not long after Kamese turned toward Amman. He had been so friendly up until we met the Palestinian. Then something changed. Maybe a simple communication problem. Or maybe he was just messing with us. Whatever it was we were glad to arrive back at ACOR. We'll now stay in Amman and maybe re-visit some of the Iraqi refugee families.
