Restful Day

Apparently I look Arab according to the Filipino housemaid. Suits me! Having a wife with blond hair gives me extra status - I think. Today we decided to do our own thing rather than going on the organised tour of more archeological sites, even if they would have been interesting. You can take just so much of old, older, really old and ancient in one week. About 2 minutes walk from the hotel is the Galleria Mall, apparently the most up market in Ammam. It is 9 levels starting with a big grocery store on lower ground, brand stores like Marks and Spencer, Adidas, Tissot Watches, Armani, Apple Computers - all those flash ones you see advertise in overseas magazines on levels 1-7. Level 8 is the food hall with McD's, KFC, Subway plus a heap of Jordanian, Lebanonese and Turkish fast food places. On level 9 there is an Ice Palace with an ice skating rink about the size of our lounge and an amusement park for kids.

Money wise 1 Jaydee roughly equals $2NZ when we calculate (Actually $1.80). Prices are about the same in the mall for clothes, electronics, food etc as in NZ. However when you go to the souks (markets) prices are much cheaper and you can buy far more things and brands (fake mostly) there. We were surprised to learn that the average wage in Jordan is only 150JD a month, although Helen was just talking to the house maid and she gets 200JD. That being the case only the rich frequent the mall and explains why the souks are so crowded. After a coffee at the mall we caught a taxi the 12km to down town for 4JD, and like last time we paid 10JD back to the hotel because we struck rush hour again. We got droped off at the Jordanian Musuem and went in and saw lots of neat exhibits. Then we walked down further toward the Roman Ampitheatre, a distance of about 2km. Narrow streets and alley ways as we weaved through the souks with hardly elbow room the whole way with it being so crowded. Now that I know I look like an Arab with wife one step behind me (making sure she didn't loose me in the crush) explains why the stall holders didn't bother me. What can you but in a souk? Starting with the inedible, tortises and clothes, gold and charcoal. Then every spice and herb you have never heard of. The range of vegetables is extraordinary, quite a few we haven't a clue what they are. Tables of dead fish, mentioning dead because you could but live cat fish. Live rabbits, quail, doves and hens. Open air tables with chicken pieces all laid out, plus lamb, sheeps heads, without a fly in sight, although we did see one blow fly in a shop window later on dissolving a piece of chicken. We didn't buy anything because haggling in English to someone who hasn't a clue what you are saying is really hard work. That reminds me of a travel tip. Before you leave the hotel get the girl behind the desk to write on a piece of paper the place you want to go to in Arabic. It worked a wonder today as both taxi drivers had no English except "welcome".

When we emerged from the souks we suddenly landed in this wide open space beside the street. We noticed across the street to the left about 20 police in different groups, most of them armed with machine guns. On the street was a police van in riot kit with steel shields across all the windows with a hole for the driver to look through. Another few steps and we saw up a narrow alley two more vans just like the first. We were kind of drifting to the right past a series of arched entrance ways. Looking inside there was a big court yard with more archways on the other side, all looking very ornate. There were a lot of men drifting around inside. Then the sign, in Arabic and English - "Grand Mosque". Adding armed police and Mosque just after midday prayer, probably unfairly, we got a bit of a fright and hurried off.

Then Helen got this bright idea - cross the street. You have to know that crossing the street in down town Amman is an art form, and not entirely safe. There we stood waiting for a gap to cross two lanes. We would still be there but I remembered some advice in the Lonely Planet Guide, follow a local. So we did, through vehichles three abreast on the two lanes. You instinctively put your hand up, the drivers automatically put their hand up and either slow down a bit or swerve.

After surviving about three road crossings we ended up having lunch on the roof top of a six story hotel. We were able to sit there and watch the streets and two ladies in Muslim dress hang out their washing and then smoke their water pipes on the roof below us. I thought it would be a bit rude to take a picture of them. At our feet rabbits and small tortises were free ranging. The tortises had numbers painted on their shells and my favourite was #5. Helen did not like the critters at all because all she could think of was not having the rabies shots before we came. For lunch we had pizza and Moroccan mint tea for 6.25JD. That was good value.

It is now dinner time. Our weekend is almost over and its back to the heap of rubble tomorrow and the weather forecaste is for hotter temperatures. More digging and scrapping and lugging goofahs of dirt. Apparently the budget of the dig has been severly stretched because the Department of Antiquities increased the dig fee by something like 500%, the dig director only found out the day we arrived. This means that instead of being able to hire 30 local labourers we only have 10, the reason for our heavy work last week. We have one young guy on goofah carrying and dumping and we just about kill him every day. He is a very hard worker and does his best to keep up. We do help him out when the back log gets too great. A goofah is a kind of bucket made out of a car tyre. Must take a picture of one for you.