Dead Sea Sunbathing and Mount Nebo!

So I have finally come round to my second blog entry. I’ve been meaning to write more frequently, but there hasn’t been that much happening in my life to report on.

I’ve been in Amman, Jordan for roughly two weeks now. In that time I have lived a rather hermit like existence, spending most of my days writing CVs and working on applications to universities. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but these things take time. Applying for jobs and not hearing anything back is one of the most frustrating things I’ve ever done. There is, however, a slither of light on the horizon, because just I received an email about an Internship on an Iraq program based here in Amman asking for a phone interview. So that’s exciting. Stay tuned for more on my quest to find a meaningful job in the humanitarian sector!

Despite my hermit like existence I have gone out a number of times. I spent an interesting evening “networking” with UNRWA colleagues in fantastic Arabic restaurant in town and have spent two evenings enjoying watching Jordanians from all walks of life coming together to dance Tango (so far I’ve just watched, but the peer pressure may soon become too much and I may be forced to use my two left feet and try to pick up a Tango step or two). I also went to a Halloween party at the British Embassy (think high school dance with alcohol, and even worse music) where I met some very nice people, a movie night at the Dutch embassy and a networking opportunity with some sort of expat community that turned out to be a bit of a bore.

The apartment I’m living in is a beautiful apartment, with a huge kitchen and amazing views. It is, however, 15 minutes outside of Amman in a place called Al-Fuheis. For some inexplicable reason taxi drivers in Amman can never understand when a foreigner asks to go to al-Fuheis. The pronunciation is, apparently, so subtle that non-fluent Arabic speakers just can’t hear it. After a long winded explanation in my extremely broken Arabic we usually set off with many a “Left here”, or “right there” thrown in. Finally, when we near the area I’m hoping to get to, the driver generally begins to laugh, as he realises that we’re going to al-Fuheis, making fun of my pronunciation. But to my ear, he says exactly what I did. Much to learn I guess. Other places in Amman don’t pose that much of a problem.

There have been two highlights of my time here in Jordan so far, and both have involved the Dead Sea. The two experiences were stark contrasts, but both amazing days. My housemate, Maria, was picked up from the airport by a driver from UNWRA at 2 in the morning. The driver that picked her up is called Daher, and she has become friends with him and his family. During the weekends he often takes her on excursions, and lucky for me I was invited to join too. So we picked up some hummous, bread and fallafel from our local down the road and got in Daher's recently fixed 1988 Lada and headed off. Daher was taking us to Mount Nebo. Mount Nebo is where, according to the final chapter of Deuteronomy (the fifth book of the Hebrew Bible,) Prophet Musa (or Moses) was shown the Promised Land by God. "And Moses went up from the plains of Moab to Mount Nebo, the top of Pisgah, which is opposite Jericho." - Deuteronomy 34:1. According to the Christian and Jewish traditions God himself buried Moses here as well.

The place is seeped in history, but as I stood on the spot where God is said to have shown Moses the promised land I couldn't help but feel mixed emotions. Those who know me know that I am not religious but am interested in the history of Religion. Having read the news that morning before we left, I had been saddened and angered by the speed with which illegal settlement expansion had again begun, despite world wide condemnation. These settlements are located in the West Bank and the religious motivation for these settlements comes from this (and other) parts of scripture. These settlers believe that present day Israel is not on the Promised Land, but that Eretz Israel is, in fact, on the West Bank. The most extreme of these religious settlers believe that this land needs to be cleansed off all non-Jews. Of course there are many other reasons for the settlements, both religious and secular, and not all settlers believe in this, however it has become a strong motivation to keep settlement expansion alive, and has become a huge political force in Israel. The settlement issue is very complex, and I might write a blog post about it in the future if anyone is interested.

With me still contemplating history and the present day, Daher, Maria and I got on the road again; destination Dead Sea, a salt lake that is considered the lowest elevation in the world. It offers year round sunny weather (with summer averages reaching near 40 degrees, and winter averages being about 24 degrees) and almost no rainfall. Quite the opposite of Bradford, my previous home! It is a place known for it's many health benefits (extremely low UV radiation, low pollen and allergens in the atmosphere, the mineral content of the water, high atmospheric pressure, dry weather, etc. etc.). Most people, however, come because of the strange experience of bathing in the water, covering themselves with Dead Sea, and the extraordinary sunsets. You can't actually swim in the Dead Sea, because you float. It is, however, ideal for reading a book while you float. Be warned though, if you have recently shaved or have any cuts or scratches, the sting of the salt will be ferocious. We parked the car on a public beach and Daher took out a rug, his water pipe and began making strong sweet Arabic tea, and enjoyed the view.

Daher making strong black tea

Daher and Maria

We sipped our tea and ate our fallafel watching the slowly set on the lowest place in the world. Unfortunately public beaches in Jordan (as in much of the Middle East) are extremely dirty. People do not pick up after themselves, and there are bottles, broken barbecues, plastic bags and various other bits of trash littering the entire area. Despite that, the view was amazing. After the coal on the argile (water pipe) had turned to ash, we decided to make our way down to the shore. The clay found in the Dead Sea has minerals that help "achieve and maintain beautiful skin." Daher convinced us to put some on our noses.

A week later I returned to the Dead Sea, although under different circumstances. During the Halloween party I had met an Italian who worked at a travel agency, a friend of Maria, she invited us to spend the day at the Holiday Inn resort with her and some friends. We headed to the resort at about 9.30 in the morning and spent the day in luxury, lounging in the sun, eating well and swimming occasionally too. Friday is the first day of the weekend here, with Sunday-Thursday being the working week. The temperatures reached a lovely 35 degrees, and I enjoyed myself thoroughly.

We were treated to another beautiful sunset, before heading home for Pizza and an email asking me for my availability to do a phone interview. A good day all in all. I've never done a phone interview before, but there's always a first time and it sounds positive. I know I can do the job, now it's just a matter of me conveying that to the interviewer. That's all for now. I'll write more soon.

Listening to Khaled - Didi

My entrance into the Orient, a heat wave and stripping for peace.

Welcome to my blog, the place where I will be writing about the random things I think about, experience and choose to do. Primarily though, I'll be documenting my quest as a recent graduate (BA) to find meaningful work.

For those of you who don't know me well, I graduated from the Department of Peace Studies at the University of Bradford a year ago, after which I became the Student Liaison for a year. With my contract over I spent a few weeks living on my Uncle's couch in Amsterdam, after which I packed my bag and hopped on a plane to Tel Aviv. Here my quest for work will begin in earnest.

I hopped on a flight to Bucharest at about 2pm yesterday, where I hung around for about two hours before catching my plane to Tel Aviv. Arriving at Tel Aviv is always a laugh, and I was expecting a welcome party to be there for me when I arrived. Sure enough, after disembarking from the plane I rushed over to passport control in a naive attempt to beat the queue. Four other flights had arrived in the last ten minutes and it was busy. I waited in line for about 20 minutes, and just as I neared my goal I was picked out of the queue. "Follow me please, sir." I followed the man with the slicked back hair, and gave him my passport. "Please don't stamp my passport" I stammered, but couldn't be sure he heard me. After being told to sit in a small room I waited for about 30 minutes, and the first interrogation began. Nothing unusual so far, as I was asked where I was going, what I did for a living, why I didn't want my passport stamped, why I'd been to Lebanon and Syria and Kenya and what this stamp was. The man seemed to get bored, and I got my paper stamped. Excited and elated I walked past the ever lengthening queue and wondered if I'd actually managed to get through controls in under an hour!

The Israeli authorities soon proved me wrong though, and at the next check I was picked out again. Time for interrogation number two. The same questions again, this time by two men with stylish sunglasses. "Take your glasses off, sir" was followed by an intense examination of my facial features. Then more questions. Eventually I was allowed to go get my bag, "but come right back here." They kept my passport, so I grabbed my duffel bag, and headed back to see if I could reclaim it. "We won't be long, but please come this way" was the next command, and I followed.

My guide, still holding my passport hostage, set off at a brisk pace swiping open doors here and there, with me stumbling under the weight of my bag, until I arrived into another dreaded interrogation room. This one had ample space for a thorough examination of all my personal possessions. I slumped down into a chair, and prepared for the worst. My passport was handed over to my new interrogators, the group of five. Two women instantly set out to search my bags, taking everything out and throwing them in boxes. One of the men took my passport and went into the back. Two other men asked me to follow them into a small room and closed a curtain behind me. I knew what was expected, and sure enough "Undress, but keep your underwear on." I duly stripped down to my boxers and was thoroughly patted and prodded with a number of metal detectors after which every inch of me was examined with gloved hands. There's nothing quite like being frisked by a man in white gloves while you're standing in nothing but your boxers and another man in sunglasses stands guard.

A little later I emerged from the curtained room to find the women sitting on one of the benches, surrounded by my stuff chatting and laughing in Hebrew. They didn't seem to be in any rush, so I figured I'd do the same. I sat down, put my headphones in, and ignored the lot. Having landed at 10.30, it was now just gone 12.30. Eventually my four guards decided to continue in their quest to find illicit goods, choose a few random possessions of mine to put through the scanner and tossed the rest into a second box. I put the Doors on and nodded my head to the music. 15 minutes later my stuff was scattered around a number of benches, but they seemed satisfied that it was all safe. The passport man resurfaced and began questioning me again. Interrogation number three. The questions were almost identical, and I could answer some of them before he finished his sentence. Eventually he seemed bored too, and my passport was returned to me. "Pack up, you need to leave" he said, and so I unceremoniously stuffed everything back into my bag and followed my captor out the door as he lead me to freedom. As I was about to leave the gates he called me back. "Next time you arrive in Tel Aviv alone, wear a cross. Or a kippah. It is better to be a pilgrim." My dad was waiting, we walked to the car and headed to Jerusalem. Once again, Ben Gurion airport managed to give me a fantastic welcome.

I woke up this morning at about 8am and it was already 35 degrees. It's 12.30 now, and it's reached 40. There's a heatwave going on, and it'll take me a while to get used to it. Tomorrow I head to Amman, Jordan where I will be based for a while. I've reworked my CV so many times over the last month, but have just thought of an entirely new format.

Music: Satta Dread Dub by King Tubby.

Book: Kaplan GRE Exam 2010-2011 Premier with CD-Rom. Fun stuff.