Open Writing

I'm now in Syria, in Damascus. I'm sleeping on the rooftop of a really pretty hotel, with a beautiful vine-trelissed courtyard, only 175 Syrian pounds a night (around two English pounds).

Anyway, I still haven't told you about Jordan, so here's a quick (hopefully) summary.

PETRA

I am ashamed to say I don't know much about the historical site of Petra, other than that it is the remains of an ancient city dating from I have no idea when, but a very long time ago. It's really colossal and very photogenic. I took far too many photos which all look the same, ripply sandstone walls with cracks of sunlight in the middle, and an occasional ruined house or group of mountains.

The sim card on my camera is now full so I need to sit down with someone sensible who will tell me which pictures to dispose of; rather like going through the wardrobe and throwing old clothes away.

I paid quite a substantial sum of money at the end of the arduous climb to the monastery for a cup of tea, but I really needed reviving from the tiring heat. Apparently the prices have doubled recently. Jordan is not getting the usual number of tourists because of the present turmoil in the Middle East, yet employees need to be paid.

What else about Petra? Well, I instantly noticed how polite the people were in comparison to Egyptians. Even though we rolled into town at 3am a hotel owner politely gave us directions to the hotel I'd seen advertised on the internet. I was incredulous. It meant he would be losing business by directing us away from his place. He also managed to speak in a soft voice and had his hands folded calmly as he spoke. I felt a tranquil breeze blow through my head as he spoke. It really was a refreshing change from my shouting students waving their arms around aggressively.

We'd probably have been better off staying in the man's hotel, after all. The one I'd set my heart on was called Oriental Gate Hotel. I'd read about it on a website a colleague told me about. I had been attracted by a picture of a large group of happy looking backpackers tucking into a feast of home cooking in the 'roof-top restaurant', and the extensive list of facilities on offer: internet, Turkish bath, swimming pool, free buffet breakfast, hot showers,free transport to the site of Petra etc...

What we actually got was a very basic room to share together, one hour of hot water, no swimming pool, bath, internet or transport. I have no idea where the photo of the happy throng of tourists came from. We were the only guests.The owner actually laughed when I told him what I'd read and didn't seem to have any recollection of the ad.

It transpired that his cousin had created it, and the swimming pool was included because there was one down the road. We could use for a small fee of 10 Dinars (over 10 UK pounds sterling!). We weren't complaining. The owner was so rarely in that we had the place to ourselves. We cooked in the kitchen and even used his tea and Nubian mountain mint, as he wasn't there to ask. The view from the dining area was great and as it was on the edge of town, furthest away from the site of Petra, we managed to buy our groceries and felafel in local shops at local prices.

AMMAN

I left most of my stuff in Cliff hotel, in the downtown area, where Jhong, Eugene, and Hiro (my travel companions) were staying. The owner was really sweet and and kind and I was obsequiously polite and sweet in return so he wouldn't make me haul my luggage up a very steep hill to The British Council building. I had problems getting past the security men after the steep climb, just 20 mins walk but all up-hill. Cairo is flat so it's quite a shock for my legs to have to climb hills again. Eventually they let me in and I was told to sit at my friend liza's desk while she was in class.

I thought she must be the kind of teacher who is really dedicated and loves her students. All the other teachers came for their break 30 minutes before her. By the time she eventually arrived, I had eaten my way through quite a lot of delicious dates on her desk and had also created a lot of confusion because staff assumed I must be a new teacher and welcomed me to 'the team' .

Later, when I met her and her colleagues for dinner in a rooftop cafe with blue walls and pink flowers (for a 'tuna salad' which was composed entirely of a beautifully arranged mountain of tuna and mayonnaise with several olives stuck in it) I discovered that their relationship with their students is similar to mine. Jordanian students can be just as demanding as Egyptian students. In Jordan they also have 20 students in each class. Liza was not out of class late because she loves her students but because one particularly annoying man was constantly interrupting the class with grammar questions which were not connected with the focal point of the lesson.

So, what can I tell you about Amman? Well, there is a hustly-bustly downtown area with lots of nut, dried fruit, and baked chickpea shops,and colourful clothes and fruit and vegetable souqs (markets). I was determined not to buy any clothes but a dazzling yellow skirt lured me in. The price I had to pay was cheaper than the cost of a meal and tea outside. I justified the purchase beacause I knew I'd be able to cook in Liza's place the night after and would save the cost of a meal. Unfortunately though I haven' got anything in my rucksack which matches the skirt so it's just adding more useless weight, in addition to the 12 redundant T-shirts. (I have only worn three of them and just seem to keep them in rotation).

Enough of such trifles. There are a few sightseeing possibilities in Amman but they amount to so little that they can be seen in just two hours. My walking tour included a citadel, Roman theatre and ruined fountain. The fountain was so insignificant that I walked past it without noticing it and assumed I was on the wrong street.

Actually, the area of Amman I particularly liked was the part in which Liza lives.: clean, prosperous suburbs. She lives just off a wide main road. This road goes on forever and loops around many roundabouts en route, simply named 'Circle 1, 2, 3...'. Liza lives between circles 3 and 4. It feels quiet and there's plenty of peopleless space; a relief after Cairo, in which the people never leave you, even when you're in your own apartment as honkings and shouts seep in through the windows.

The men aren't so bad as in Egypt. The only really dodgy one I met was actually an Egyptian man. I won't go in to details.

Unfortunately this e-mail has taken several hours to compose as computers in Damascus collapsed on me twice. My money was refunded but my journal writing was held up. I am now actually in Aleppo, and am about to leave for either Lattakia or Tartus the day after tomorrow. I can't decide which. Tomorrow I want to have the second Turkish bath of my holiday. I had to wait until tomorrow as women are only allowed in on certain days of the week.

I will be in touch again soon.