The Iron Age, Raad Hammouri told us, can also be called the Age of the Kingdoms. He’s probably not the only one to say so, but hearing it in the shadow of the Triumphal Arch at Jerash makes it stick. I learned Spanish history more thoroughly living in Seville, and recall the visceral power of the Declaration of Independence as I gazed at it in the National Archives. What kind of learner to they call that?
The Iron Age always seemed so long ago. Longer ago than kingdoms.
Pharonic Kingdoms, Hammurabi, Alexander the Great Greek, the Roman Empire. The latter two at least (then the Byzantines, then Omayyad, then Ottoman, British) left monumental marks on this landscape. Glorious gateways and the colonnaded street; two amphitheatres with magical acoustics (one of which was featured in the opening scene of my 1989 film “Classical Caravan.” See blog ___). Byzantine also shows through with mosaics a la Madaba on unearthed church floors.
Raad gives fabulous tour. I’d been hoping to find someone I to whom I could deliver family and friends when they come to give a deep appreciation for Jordan and its history. Here he is. I don’t know his charges because we got him with car and driver on a barter agreement through Siyaha: I’ll go back with my camera and videotape dazzling tour guide bites promoting Jordan tourism on the Internet. So look out, friends, when you come here you’ll have to work out your own arrangements but I found the guide.
There’s a fun, hokey and educational event twice a day at the Hippodrome here: men dressed as Centurions demonstrating military tactics straight out of Lord of the Rings – whoops, it’s the other way around! Gladiators fight to the near-death, then the audience is asked to deliver the sentence: thumbs to the side, he stays on Earth, thumbs down, he descends to Hades.
Whoops, again! Jerash reached its peak as a Roman city, not Greek. It would be Vulcan, not Hades, right? Except that the people of Gerash (sic) preferred their Greek occupiers to the Romans who were apparently arrogant and cruel. The Greeks beguiled its conquered citizens with art and culture not raw force, as Raad suggested was the Roman way. Generalities, yes, but useful. The people called Jupiter’s Temple that of Zeus and so it is called still today. The temple meant for Diana is instead known as Aphrodite’s.
Four hours we walked and learned. One more tidbit: somewhere in Europe archaeologists have discovered a kind of wood crane used in those days to hoist sections of columns atop one another. We also found that our Katie can be quite the goddess statuette. Dianaphrodite, watch your back!
By Sunday we all came back to Earth. Katie off to school and Peter and I to figure out how he can get work done remotely. First, we found he couldn’t get wireless connection. The only way to get to the Internet was to plug the Ethernet cable right into his computer. Happily it turned out that the modem we have is superfluous: the wireless Internet signal lives in our apartment. Period. One hurdle jumped, we find the VONAGE box didn’t work. So phone calls would either be on very expensive international mobiles or through SKYPE, which has been entirely reliable. Except when Internet is down. Which happens, it seems, a little bit every day. Peter managed to run his office and even win a job from here.
Then the big social event of the month: we hosted a dinner party. I wanted people in our new life to meet Peter and vice versa. Alain McNamara, Kathy Sullivan and daughter Dunya came; Hala Zureikat, Naif, and daughters came. The adults had a fine time, as did the girls. We wisely ordered mixed grill and shish taouk from the Great Amman Restaurant near the Sheraton, which was dee-licious! Our guests kindly brought appetizers and dessert. No one really wanted to leave by 10pm but it was a school night and reason prevailed.
Suddenly we were facing my departure to the USA for the Esalen board meeting and donor weekend (www.esalen.org). I’d be returning via New Jersey, where I’d get to be home for a few days, feed cats, celebrate Janna’s 18th birthday, give a talk at Interweave, and see “Hamlet” at The Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey (www.shakespearetheaternj.org). Peter and Katie get Amman to themselves.
All that seemed so far away last June at Fulbright Orientation. The march of time is relentless. Be it counted in days or centuries, time’s dominion defeats all the others.
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