Jordan, Day 2 (part 2)

Monday, November 17 (cont)

Abdullah and I head down the road, past horse carts, under grey skies and the menace of rain.  I tell him I’ve requested no rain.  “Inch Allah,” he replies.  I tell him I’ve been very good and perhaps will merit His mercy, which makes him smile... luckily.  Must keep a close rein on my flippant, liberal comments.  But he’s young and I’m old enough to be his mother.

       Petra starts off slow, with a few troglodyte caves and then the “djinn cubes”, really huge stone blocks several stories high with no doors.  Later generations thought only djinns - spirits - could get inside them.  But people were buried from above, their bodies lowered into a cavity.  It makes me think of the Zoroastrian Towers of Silence, but I see no vultures or even eagles in the Jordanian skies during my entire stay.

       Then it’s the Siq (the shaft), a long, narrow, winding gorge Abdullah says was created by an earthquake and then carved out more by water and wind erosion.  All different colors of stone, with only touches of green - fig trees hanging from crevices, caper bushes and castor oil plants.  The Siq twists and turns for 1.2 kilometers (3/4 of a mile), sometimes so narrow that two horsecarts can’t cross.  At the sound of hoofbeats on the sand or on some of the Roman paving stones not torn up to build other structures over the centuries, one cart has to stop and wait for the other to pass.  The sky is something far away, high above, sometimes the equivalent of 70 stories up, the undulating walls smoothed over the millennia to perfection.

Khazneh

       Suddenly this gorge empties us into the square of the Khazneh, one of the highlights of this immense ancient Nabataean city which once had a population of up to 37,000.  Here again, later generations ignored what it had once been and, thinking such an amazing building must hide a treasure, they tore it apart, even breaking into its characteristic urn high up on the facade.  But it’s just another mausoleum.  A glorious one of arresting beauty.
       Picking our way among the camels and donkeys all saddled to promenade tourists (who have not come this season), it’s a slow, admiring walk past tomb after tomb, each decorated differently but displaying some common elements, such as the Nabataean step design on top of the facades.  Every statue decorating these tombs has been defaced by what Abdullah calls the Iconoclasts. The name comes up again and again, lending credence to my worry that someday some religious faction could come and destroy all these wonders, as the Taliban did when it blew up the 5th century Buddha statues of Bamiyan.  And then I would have missed the beauty, forever.  So I have come now, Daesh/ISIL be damned.*
       We finally arrive at the amphitheater, originally built much smaller but expanded by the conquering Romans to seat 8,000!  We’ll get a better view tomorrow, from above, promises Abdulllah.  For now it’s back to the hotel, via a bumpy horsecart ride which I do not recommend for those with bad backs.

Amphitheater

After dinner, buffet-style (and not alone), it’s “Petra by Night”.  A long slog down the Siq and back, all lit by paper lanterns set on the ground on either side.  A nice, simple light-and-sound show in between, with mint tea served as we sit on Bedouin rugs.  First, by candlelight, a musician, hidden by the dark, plays a shepherd’s flute.  Then a string instrument accompanied by a long song in Arabic.  And finally muted red and white lighting alternately illuminates the Khazneh’s facade, to the overpowering strains of O Fortuna from Carmina Burana, music befitting the grandiose and ultimately doomed city of Petra, once so mighty and now deserted, except for tourists.  Ozymandias.  Quite magical.
       Standing in line, I’d met Bruce and Lisa from Arlington, and their guide.  That makes for interesting conversation during the long walk down and back up the canyon.  This is part of their Bucket List too, the comment overheard that started our discussion.  They’ll be touring Petra tomorrow so maybe we’ll meet again.  But for now, it’s a shower and bed.

Petra at dusk

*On the date of my posting this (Feb. 27, 2015), a video has just been released by Daesh, showing their henchmen taking sledgehammers to the ancient artifacts in the Mosul Museum.  Destroying millennia of irreplaceable masterpieces that taught us so much about ancient cultures.  It made me cry.  It also showed me how right I was to visit Petra before such things happen here, again.  Not that Jordan is a target... yet.  But if it ever is, Daesh will just finish what the Iconoclasts started centuries ago, but with power tools.  I hope and pray that never happens.