The Dead Sea and Jerash

I was out late Thursday night (oh, it was a dancing inferno) and didn't feel like getting up, but I had promised Kristin, my co-worker, that I would drive her to Dead Sea.  In exchange, I got to sneak in to the Marriot's beach and I got her rental car for the weekend.  And so, driving in Jordan would be my new experience for the day.

There's usually two lanes on each Jordanian road.  The left is where people will tailgate and honk like their wife is in labor and needs get to hospital right now (by the number of children per family, this is actually quiet likely).  The right is where trucks drive at ten miles per hour and people merge in without looking.   There were a couple close calls, but, all in all, not so bad.  I came up with one law that I think will keep me alive - Jordanians always have the right of way.

The Dead Sea was as I remembered it - weird, amazing and painful.  After 15 minutes in the water, my whole body stung.  I tried to soak up as many rays as possible to get rid of the old psoriasis.  Fate had brought me to Jordan, the place where sufferers come from around the world to rid themselves of P.  No one knows scientifically why the Dead Sea works, but I remember that the guide from my Israel trip implied that it was God's work.  I'm so happy that my P has a place in God's plan for the universe.

I drove home through some wondrous landscape.  Through some stretches there is a breathtaking void of life.  Then, a mile later, violet blossoms and deep green trees.

Saturday, I decided to drive to Jerash.  I was lost in northern Amman for a good half hour trying to find the highway.  English signs disappear off the highway, so I wandered and wandered and saw how the lower class of Amman lives.  Eventually, a Jerash sign emerged and I was on my way.

After an hour drive and two 20 cent falafels, I entered Jerash.  Mighty temples sat quietly baking in amber fields.  Thistles peeked from mosaics.  And  both Arabs and I seemed equally out of place and out of time.  My water diminished prior to my awe and I needed to be on my way.