Showing posts with label Amman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Amman. Show all posts

Saturday, 12 April 2014

Welcome to Jordan! - with lots of photos

First things first, despite being in Jordan, almost no one is "from" Jordan. Even those who are from Jordan, they are most likely not from Amman. It may seem like an odd scenario or concept, but when considered as one of the most stable and prosperous (relatively) Arab countries in the Middle East, it is easier to understand why so many Palestinians, Egyptians, and Syrians. In addition to those seeking safety, stability, and refuge there are also those who are (mostly) from the Gulf and quite obviously wealthy. Just as Jordan is a relatively well-off country, it is also a relatively progressive society and culture. What might be prohibited in a more conservative country - read, Saudi - is more accessible here. Despite being a relatively modern and urban city, tribal ties are still very strong and at the heart of individuals' identification and connections. Additionally, the population of Jordan has swollen in the past century with large influxes - continuing until now - from surrounding Arab nations that are or were in turmoil. The most prevalent case are Jordanian-born citizens who are Palestinian in heritage, but who most likely have never set foot in Palestine.

Coincidentally, the first person that I met arriving in Jordan was a bus driver who had fled from Palestine after 1967. His English was extremely good and he was very well spoken as well as genuinely welcoming. He helped me get my bus ticket and on the bus from the airport to downtown. It was definitely a genuine experience that included a segment on politics, Israel, the Occupation, and his misfortune. Unfortunately, I can no longer remember the details, but although he drove a bus he had been highly educated and employed before making the unwanted move to Jordan.

Even after being in Amman for some time now, almost everytime that I meet someone - a taxi driver, a shopkeeper - they are Palestinian or Syrian. I have yet to figure out what is the most appropriate response. This is especially true as almost all the Palestinians have never seen Palestine with their own eyes and unless there is a dramatic change in regional politics they will never have the chance to step foot in what they consider their homes. So not only does one refer to Israel as Palestine - unless you truly know with whom your speaking. One also ought not to too proudly or loudly state their past or future travels to Palestine as you are more privileged than they might ever be. However, if you are part Palestinian - preferably your father - then you are more than welcome to talk about what city or village your family is from, and maybe how long ago they left Palestine. Even if you speak no Arabic, have never stepped foot in the country, or meet your family - if it is in your blood, you are Palestinian. Despite all these seemingly oversensitivity, for what we - as outsiders - may consider, it is a tough subject as it hits home to family roots, tribal connections, and believed injustices.

For those of you who weren't following my every fleeting thought, Amman was not my first choice. Despite my interest and pension for the unstable and off-the-beaten track places and choices, the political landscape of the Middle East lessened the scope to which I would be willing to travel, and temporarily live. Initially, I had wanted to attend the University of Alexandria in Egypt, but as tensions had been cyclically mounting and elections were scheduled for this time frame I decided it was not worth the risk. Despite my typical less than stellar grades - well at least during the first few years of university - the aim of this semester was to focus on my learning of the Arabic language along with some cultural immersion and education; therefore, going somewhere that unstable and regulated was not the place for this time.

As has been the theme so far this year, I have taken a more relaxed approach to planning as some bewildered folks noted when I left in January. I think I've come to realise that despite having nothing booked or confirmed, I did have a mental 'road map' that guided my journals so far and I think will continue to do so for this year. In any case, rather than attempting to find an apartment via the internet, I settled for staying in a hostel downtown for an indefinite amount of time upon my arrival until I settled in and found a place. This turned out to be a quite wise move on my part, despite taking over a week to find suitable accommodation. During that period, I stayed at the Amman Tower Hostel which is located in the 'downtown' part of the city. Conveniently located between two busy and usually jammed roads and beside a mosque - daily call to prayers from the minarets at least five times a day can be loud and persistent at first. I stayed there for over almost two weeks, commuting to the University every day, which is in the north part of the city. Even though taxis are affordable compared to Western standard (a few dollars usually), I opted to take the bus - cheaper and more interesting.

The city is divided into very distinct neighbourhoods with their own vibes and specialities. Al-balad, Amman's downtown core, is nothing particularly stellar when compared to other cities both modern and ancient. The small area holds a small selection of ruins, many hotels and hostels, and a good number of shops and restaurants. During my stay at the hostel downtown, I had some great times with other travellers who were also staying in the hostel and travelling both long and short term. This included going to one of the few local bars, O'berg (pronounced like Auberge), which serves women alcohol and provides a very local vibe. Located down a small alleyway with snack shops and stores along the way. Once you clamber up the stairs, you enter a smokey, dimly-lit, small room with a bar and kitchen; tables tucked tightly together; and charcoal station for the arjeela. The decor is apt with photographs of Arab singers and artists who can also be heard crooning from the speakers. Although not the best grub, they offer "local" beer - Amsel that is produced in Jordan for export; argeela. water pipe or shisha; and a authentic environment with the swooning voices of Arab singers.

Closest to the downtown area is Rainbow Street which is a modern, cool-chic, expat-oriented street with lots of food options (generally pricier), artistic shops, and small niche stores. A little further away is abdali which offers a very large flea-market on Thursday and Fridays with a huge selection of used clothing and shoes, household items, and fresh produce. Starting at Rainbow Street and moving west are eight traffic circles used as reference points - get into a cab and try and use street names forget it, circles are critical for navigation. The main city malls are in Swefiyeh to the west, closer to the more affluent, residential and the modern, westernised areas. To the east, lies the less developed and more impoverished areas of Amman. I have only made a few ventures into this area and usually only because I didn't manage to get myself off the bus before we went wizzing to the "other side". Although noticing a lower level of wealth, I did not sense a greater sense of risk or insecurity - even after wandering along unknown roads at night until a taxi driver decided I needed a ride. North of most of the city is where the University of Jordan's campus is located along with lots of student housing.

Despite having described as seemingly distinct areas, the districts in Amman are sometimes overlapping and still cause confusion, especially as some names encompass a number of smaller districts. What I had not anticipated or particular enjoy is the sheer size of Amman. Compared to other cities that I have explored and visited, Amman has rapidly and expansively grown from the seven hills it originally occupied and now sits upon over 22 hills. Instead of being considered a city, it ought to be considered more of a metropolis similar to the GTA or the Lower Mainland in Canada with various cities having been incorporated into one large area.

On the subject of hills, they are everywhere. This is especially apparent when wandering the city and even more so after getting lost - usually after climbing up the wrong hill. It is not a city that is developed for pedestrians, most sidewalks, if existent, are crumbling, blocked by trees, or covered in refuse. Thankfully, most vehicles either dodge foot traffic or incessantly honk to warn you of their approach. The main means of transportation you ask, after personal vehicles, why taxis, bien sure. Compared to western countries, taxi fares are reasonable and made for average locals. Costing 2-3 JD for a decent trip through the city, 5 JD being the most I ever spent (northern to southern edges of the city), and starting at 0.25 JD - after ensuring that the meter is set before taking off! Biking is not really an option between traffic and terrain; mopeds seem to be limited to delivery drivers; donkeys are limited and I have not seen any horses; and walking is not a "thing". Buses are available and while I was commuting between the hostel and the university, I would take the bus. Normally, viewed as vehicles for the working class and rather unpleasant, I had mostly positive experiences riding the bus. In the beginning, I primarily took the cities buses as they didn't wait to be full and were more reliable - despite a lack of schedule and dedicated stops. I also benefited as my routes (I could choose from several) were not the most popular as some other buses were packed like sardines - once a bus drove off with a lady's ponytail dangle out of the door, there were that many people stuffed on the bus. However, on the way back to the hostel, catching cities buses seemed much more futile so I started taking the mini-buses. They are white, 12-18 seater buses that run along dedicated routes. Before leaving their starting point, they wait until they are full most of the times and if it's not a popular time will leave after a while, but it will cost more - fare depends on number of riders, when full 0.35 JD or 0.55 CAD. Learning the areas and circles is a definite asset as on a number of occasions I either missed my stop - flying off towards some other undesired neighbourhood - or was unable to clearly ask for where I wanted to go.

As with all my other city exploration, I walked a great deal throughout Amman often getting lost and having to descend and climb multiple hills, occasionally dragging my compatriots with me. Despite not being a "walkable" city, I have not had any negative experiences other than the normal staring - 1. it's cultural, 2. I'm foreign, 3. I'm female, and 4. I'm walking. Then again on one fine day, slogging to the bus "station" from a day at the market, a driver pulled over in front of me and said the equivalent of "come in" (tafadali) as I walked by his car. Apparently my provocative hiking pants, long sleeve shirt, scarf, runners, and multiple bags were good indicators that I was a prostitute; however, I feel as if the fact I was walking was probably the largest factor. Being responded to as a prostitute has been a common occurrence that has either dissipated as I have been in the same areas for a while or I have become accustomed to the interest.

Whether it be from hospitality, national pride, or friendliness, at every turn and encounter one is "welcomed" to Jordan even if you have been here for an extended period of time. As being welcomed to a place (e.g. Welcome to Canada!) and welcomed for something (i.e. thank you - you are welcome) are the same in Arabic, I have gotten somewhat over-welcomed by everybody. On the other hand, my iconic, Canadian usage of "sorry" as definitely been weened down to almost complete disusage.

In order to catch up for my blogs in Jordan, I have written an outline for the next six+ entries, which does not include new things from this point onwards. Therefore, I will be once again working on catching up on these entries with the most effort I can afford. Despite having travelled and lived in different places, the first month in Amman was definitely more overwhelming than most of my other experiences and since then I have felt as if I am perpetually trying to catch up or do everything. It has taken until March when I found a more balanced approach to my life in Amman, but compared to life on the road or back home is still much more demanding.

And now I should study.

Alex
Bus from the airport to the city.

Ikea (still in construction at this point)

View from my hostel room.

Great breakfasts included at Jordan Tower Hostel

My bunk at Jordan Tower Hostel

Chilling in the lobby with Pen and Melissa

Dinner at Hashem's - hummus, fattah, falafel, stuffed falafel, pita bread, sweet mint tea. Served on plastic chairs between two shops outside. 


Dinner at al-quds with Pen and Melissa - classy, turkish coffee time!

Our waiter at al-quds

Night out at O'berg

Arjeela & Amsel

Visiting the Roman Amphitheatre after dinner!

Enjoying the coziness of a taxi - five in the backseat (you can see my jeans and white top!).

View of Amman from one of my many walks on one of the many hills. 

Market in the East part of the city - view from a city bus (was working on getting back to the centre of town)

View of a city bus on my way to the University


Saturday, 15 February 2014

Chilling by the Seaside

We pulled into Essaouira just in time to see the sunset, which was rather exceptional as we first had a view of the whole city with the Atlantic Ocean and setting sun, and then we pulled into the harbour just as the sun was dipping below the horizon. If there was something exceptional, even more so than the city as a whole, were the sunsets. Each night was amazing and each night was unique. This was one of the easiest commutes between my inter-city transport and the next hostel. I had about 500 metres to cover and after looking at the map (and choosing the bus that dropped me off closest), I was able to beat my way past (or at least elbow) the awaiting "cart-men" willing to drag your luggage or parcels to a given location. I walked through the city walls, which are in an impressive shape, and walk down the main road until I reached my little off road (the alleyways were even labelled!). Nevertheless, I wandered down the alley a couple times before a group of boys pointed me in the right direction. After I rang the buzzer, one of the owners hurried over as he had been out at the shop.

The hostel is quite quaint, but has a nice atmosphere and great people. There are three levels: main has two sleeping rooms, a little living room, a tiny kitchen, and the main washroom; the second level has another sleeping room, a toilet, and an outdoor living area; and finally the top is an open patio with a great view of the city. As with most good hostels, you can tell it is a winner as the same people you hung out with at the last (good) one were, are, or show up there! There were almost ten people I had met in Marrakech who had either beat me there or showed up while I was there, which is kind of nice as you don't even need to be travelling with others to still be social on the road.

As with every new start in a city, I wandered, slightly haplessly, around the city within its walls. It is quite a small city, but has a very nice vibe with lots of artistic folks. Although I didn't feel as if there was quite as much available as there was in Marrakech, and from what I've heard Fez, there were definitely more unique and smallscale endeavours and some lovely calligraphy art shops. As in the other places, I refrained from buying any major souvenirs, which after seeing people lugging theirs around and knowing I have a great deal of time on the road left, I only minorly regret. Eventually I landed on a little cafe in the middle of the medina and had an herb omelette and some moroccan tea. I also met a lady from England who was also travelling and looking for someone who would be up for going out. We made plans to meet up the next evening to head out to some of the night venues.

The next day, not having a particular set itinerary, I set out to see the port, the Skala du port, and the Citadel. It was neat to walk through all the little blue boats, and bigger ones, as well as the fishers trying to sell their day's catch. Climbing up the Citadel, I got a nice view of the city, its walls, the port, and the Ile de Mogador. Being a nice sunny and warm day (until the wind got to me), I sat up in the top of the citadel and just took in the scenary and sunrays! Once I got a little chilly, I headed down and grabbed some freshly squeezed, orange, grapefruit, and lemon juice from one of the local stands. Then I headed down the beach for a couple kilometres both ways. It was a nice way to spend my first day, in the laidback city.

The beach was quite active, I think it being Friday helped. There were families out enjoying the weather; boys and kids out playing soccer; people learning to surf and kitesurf; a few foreigners sunbathing; and horses and camels available for rides. I just meandered along the sand, accidently soaking my sandals when I neared the water (birkenstocks aren't the most water friendly). Thankfully as I carried them, they dried off pretty quickly and seemed to have recovered better than when my last pair went into the Pacific and Mediterranean! The first stretch of sand was very clean and nice to walk along, as I got to the part where the camels and horses were kept, it became quite full of poop. After dogding the excrement, I was then greeted by garbage strewn along the sand. As with all the areas that are not kept 'clean', plastic is by far the biggest - and sometimes only - pollutant (visible) whether it be sandals, yogurt containers, jugs, or plastic bags. Everything else seems to be reused or disposed of somehow, unfortunately plastic is not that maleable or useful after its first usage. Once I had made it to the end of the beach - I could have crossed, but didn't want to - I made my way back. In order to take in the most of the sunset, I chose a restaurant that was on the plaza/square near the city walls, port, citadel, and ocean. Not only was the sunset a delight, but local families came out in droves, which provided good people-watching. Although I was not hassled during dinner - in Marrakesh, people would try and sell you cigarettes, tissues, etc, as well as polish your shoes throughout your meals - there were a large number of beggars all throughout the city. As I was nearing the end of my trip, I decided to enjoy another tajine, but with fish as I figured it would be fresh. It indeed was quite tasty, but not as enjoyable as my meals in Marrakesh - although I did listen to a Montreal couple talk about Canada to their local real estate agent.

Later that evening, I met up with the lady and a local musician she had met earlier. We headed off to the first place, which was a really nice, roof-top terrace near the port. A local band was playing when we arrived - an Algerian song I know and like, Aicha by Cheb Khaled - and they were really good. It was a really nice place that was laid back and had a good atmosphere. After the band finished, a younger guy started to DJ, which was entertaining as it was mostly Western pop music, but it was still good. Although it is possible to drink in Muslim countries, I don't suggest partying in them as they tend to be pricy (6-15 CAD per drink), as well as it can be looked down upon. That being said, the next place we went to was a club where the girls looked on par with Western girls and there was booze aflow. There was another local singer who was quite good, but the atmosphere was not quite as enjoyable as the first one, Taros Cafe.

The next day, after a very fulling and delicious breakfast, I headed out to buy a few groceries and wander another part of the city. This time I ventured north, which brought me to the local market, which were stalls - tarps on the ground and tables with merchadise, and carts full of produce - all along what is normally a street. There was everything you could want from food to clothes and home maintenance items. It was definitely interesting and much different from the markets established for foreigners, it also helped that I was one of the very few foreigners throughout the mayhem. I ended up buying some mandarines and bananas from the market and then getting some dates, figs, and almonds. Once I wound my way back to the hostel, I had a tasty lunch of hard boiled eggs, fresh bread, strawberries, banana, mandarins, and yogurt. Then I set out, for the second attempt, to find the bus station to buy my ticket to Casablanca. As with most things in Essaouira, the bus station was definitely more local than previous, bigger cities. There were people trying to sell tickets on smaller (rickity) lines, less signage, and more general disrepair.

Another another delightful breakfast, I headed back to the bus station with my pack in tow as even the far station was only a kilometre away. I have to say that was one of the places I most did not want to leave and even hung out on the rooftop patio for a bit before I dragged myself away. On my way, I saw a really nice torquoise kaftan that I was tempted by. He told me it was 900 dirhams (125 CAD), but I knew that if I had had the energy and time I could have gotten it down to at least 450 dirhams (60 CAD), if not lower. I probably could have done it that day, but I was a little stressed and not in the mood to drink tea and try and haggle my way down. The bus ended up arriving 45 minutes late so I just stood around the station - I was going to have to sit for six hours. I watched as everyone boarded their buses; a homeless man kept getting kicked out of his sleeping spots; a poor little dog was looking for scraps and quite friendly; and workers drank tea and socialized while sitting in the luggage compartment of buses.

I am now about to move into my apartment near the university. I have been in Amman, Jordan for a week now and have started classes. I will work on finishing up Morocco and a intro to Amman soon - as well as keeping up with my homework!

The lunch I made myself after going to the market - mmmm tasty & fresh!
The fantastic breakfast made by the hostel staff, soooo good. 
View of the sunset from the hostel's rooftop patio. 
View of the sunset from the city walls with the citadel and the Ile of Mogador in sight. 
The bus station in Essaouira - the friendly little pup, the homeless man trying to sleep, and one of the buses from the company I travelled on to Casablanca.