Peapod on Purpose

When we told our friends and family we were planning to visit Jordan, the responses were less than enthusiastic. Jordan is not a top vacation destination for American families, and even those who are the most well-traveled and knowledgeable about geography didn’t seem to know a lot about the country. Ourselves included. In fact, Jordan wasn’t even on our list of planned destinations for this trip until one of the pastors of our church told us about his time there. Since the political climate in Israel seemed too tumultuous to take three young kids, we decided to give it a go. It turned out to be an unforgettable experience, for so many reasons. 

When we landed at the  Amman airport it was around 3:00 AM, and we were tired after a long drive to the airport  followed by a short flight which only allowed for a brief nap. We contacted the rental car company to let them know we’d arrived, and they sent a driver to bring us to an offsite pickup location. When the driver showed up in a nondescript sedan, we didn’t think twice before sleepily piling into the small car.

It wasn’t until ten minutes later, when we were driving on a dark road past scenes I’d seen in one too many movies, that I realized we’d never asked this man for any identifying documents. We’d exited the highway and were driving on a narrow, seemingly forgotten, pothole filled road with no commerce in sight…just some scattered, flat-roofed houses with broken down cars and piles of trash. If you’ve watched any war movies set in the middle east, you’ve got the right picture. 

Whether it was the lack of sleep, my overactive imagination, or conditioning from the American media, I convinced myself we were being kidnapped. So there I sat, squished in the back seat between three small children, thinking through the logistics of trying to escape the moving car and making our way back to civilization for help. 

Thankfully, we drove over a small rise in the dirt road and a strip of off-airport rental car centers came into sight. I still wasn’t sure we were in the clean, but after a very long process and a bit of a shakedown, we were off to find our AirBnb.  

A few days earlier we’d realized I’d made a mistake with the booking dates, and we wouldn’t have a place to go sleep at 5 AM when we arrived. We quickly booked something, without doing much research, knowing we’d only be there for a few short hours. We pulled into the dark neighborhood with trash lined streets, and walked up and down a dark alley until we identified the right door. The house was kind of a disaster, and we were thankful we only needed to be there for a few hours. The highlight was definitely the moment James got locked in a bathroom with a broken door knob, and I got to kick down the door. Bruce Lee, watch out. One of my life’s great regrets will forever be not having the kids capture my moment on video. 

In the late morning, we left in search of food, and it was our first encounter with the famed Arab hospitality. As we were loading our bags into the car, a toothless older gentleman approach us and tried to communicate via genstires and grunts. It wasn’t until we were driving away that we realized he was inviting us into his home for a meal. This kind of encounter is so foreign to those of us born and raised in America, who would never consider meeting a stranger on the street and inviting them into our home. Maybe we’ve got something to learn here…After a fantastic meal and some grocery shopping, we checking into one of the most beautiful AirBnbs we’ve stayed at this year, and settled in to thoroughly enjoy our time in the country. Thankfully, the rough start didn’t get in the way. 

Not long before our visit, we realized we’d planned our trip during Ramadan (which involves a month-long fast between sunup and sundown). Oops. We knew it would be culturally insensitive – and illegal – to eat in public during the day, so we planned to eat breakfast and lunch at home or parked in the car and eat dinner out after sun set. This planning seemed unnecessary though, since many restaurants were open during normal hours. To get around the laws related to public eating during the holiday, many restaurants draped thick curtains inside the windows and doors of the buildings. And at the main tourist destinations, like Petra and the Dead Sea, restaurants were open as normal (including patio seating). 

This really worked in our favor, because we had some of the best meals of the entire trip during our time in Amman. We were delighted to find all of the dips in Amman, plus succulent braised and grilled meats, vegetables that taste too good to be vegetables, fresh salads and never ending flatbread. We loved the food in the country a whole lot, and found it to be much more varied than the food in Turkiye or Greece. 

While staying in Amman, we took a road trip to visit Mount Nebo and stand at the place where God showed Moses the promised land. Apparently Moses was there before air pollution though, because today, you can only see across to Jehrico about 40 days a year. While we weren’t there on one of the 40, it was pretty amazing to stand and look across the Dead Sea and the Jordan river to the land where God fulfilled one of His promises. We also saw some Christian churches in Madaba, one of the last Christian strongholds in the area, and some beautiful mosaics. That’s kind of boring though (if you ask me), so I won’t say anything more about it. 

Later that same afternoon we visited a natural hot spring, not considering that it was the weekend and would be absolutely packed with locals. While full coverage wasn’t required, there wasn’t another woman there with bare arms or legs, which wasn’t something I’d considered when packing our bag for the day. I ended up opting out of swimming, but the kids had a blast making fast friends, again proving that words aren’t necessary for communication. 

The next day we visited Bethany beyond the Jordan, the site where Jesus was baptized. The course of the river has moved over time (the Jordanians blame the Israelis for this), making the actual baptism site more of a monument marking dry ground. What was really cool was the group of people being baptized together across the river, spontaneously breaking out into song together before they proclaimed their faith. To me, places are just places, but I have to admit it was cool to have a more clear picture in my head of where Biblical events took place. Because the river is the border between Jordan and Israel, you have to take a bus from the visitor center and stay with a tour group during your visit. This part of things was kind of annoying, since the schedule had more time at the gift shops than the actual site we were there to visit. Next time, we would opt for a private tour so we could linger by the banks and watch the baptisms.

Our next stop was a resort on the Dead Sea, which was absolutely nothing like we expected. We’d read that the salinity of the sea might not be best for kids, since it would sting any small cuts or scrapes and that the salinity made it hard to get your head up if you rolled onto your stomach. It sounded like many children preferred to play in the muddy banks and the pools instead, so we made sure to book a place with a children’s play area. Upon checking into the Hilton where we’d spend the night, we cautioned everyone, and headed down for a float. 

As we approached the sea, we were assaulted with the foul smell of a swamp. We tried to get past the smell and cautiously entered the water, which ended up being a wonderful experience. The salinity wasn’t too much, and we all enjoyed the chance to float effortlessly. Well, except for Little Pea, who preferred to keep her feet on the ground. In the area where we stayed there were no muddy banks, but the divers brought mud up from the middle of the sea that was provided in a bowl to smear across your skin. This was a lot of fun for everyone, until it came time to wash off. That stuff really wanted to stick around. 

The next day we had an absolutely fantastic breakfast, full of za’atar and sumac and all the delightful yogurts, cheeses and flatbreads you could ever want. After stuffing ourselves with Middle Eastern spices, we hit the road again for our drive into the desert. The first thirty minutes of our drive were along the shores of the Dead Sea, and this is where we saw the real beauty. The mineral crusted shores were absolutely stunning; no pictures can do it justice. Standing on salt “glaciers” that look like snow but feel like marble was a surreal experience. The color of the water was absolutely unbelievable. Oh, and there was no smell. If we go back, we will skip the resort experience and visit the natural areas of the sea. 

From this point we had a three hour drive ahead of us. We’d read blog reminding drivers to get gas before entering the desert, and set our course for the nearest large-looking town on the map. Except, apparently we had already entered the desert. And the nearest “large-looking town” was a crossroads with three buildings, none of which were a gas station. Friends, if you really want to test your marriage, I suggest driving up nearly deserted winding mountain roads while your gas gauge is dropping past empty. Let’s just say, twelve years ago we might not have survived this. We did roll into a gas station before the car shut down, and made sure to keep the car above half full for the rest of our adventures. 

Our destination for the evening was one we were all super psyched about: a Bedouin campsite in the desert of Wadi Rum. The Bedouins are a group of nomadic, desert-dwelling peoples who are known for herding sheep and other livestock. Many Bedouins have begun to make their living on tourism, setting up desert campsites to recreate their way of life (with some modern amenities, like toilets). 

Wadi Rum, also known as the Valley of the Moon, is a vibrant stretch of desert on the border of Saudi Arabia, with stunning red sand, rock formations and herds of rock formations. If you’re singing the song “Arabian Nights” in your head right now, you’ve got the right idea. Because the protected area has no roads and only official tour guides are allowed inside, we were to meet our guide at home and hop in the back of his pickup truck for our adventure. 

On the way to the campground, we stopped at a rocky outcropping to enjoy the sunset, and immediately upon our arrival we found an abandoned “droid” which looked like it could have belonged to Luke Skywalker himself. A fitting start to our night spent sleeping where scenes from The Rise of Skywalker were filmed. As the sun set we enjoyed tea with our guide, and saw him smile for the first time as he broke his fast with his first cigarette and tea of the day. 

As the sky grew dark, we drove to camp, settled into our tents and gathered around the fire for stories and dinner. There were several other visitors at the campground that night, and we shared about our lives and our travels and made fast friends. We enjoyed a fantastic dinner, cooked over a fire buried under the sand, and were very thankful for the older Danish ladies who brought cleaning wipes for the outdoor bathrooms. 

The next morning we jumped in the back of a 4X4 truck and headed out to experience the desert. Like all tourist experiences around the globe, our journey through the uninhabited landscape brought many opportunities to buy stuff. Staring across the sandy wastelands, you’d never imagine souvenir shops selling tea and incense would be hiding behind the rock outcroppings, but the Bedouins are an ever enterprising people. 

At one of our stops, James and I stepped in for a cup of chai and told the kids to “make good choices” while they climbed in the rock formations nearby, like true wild and free parents. After a few moments, the locals at the shop suggested we go warn the kids to be careful and not climb too high. Shrugging off their warning, I reassured them that the kids were just fine. They had been raised in the desert and knew how to be safe while climbing, after all. Well, just moments later, I had a chance to eat my words as Big Pea fell from a high place and immediately started wailing. After a few minutes of hollering increasingly less encouraging words up her way, we realized she was not coming down the rocks on her how. 

As JP and I surveyed the landscape to find the best way up to her, our guide adeptly scaled the front of the outcropping (in flip flops) and carried her down amid cries of pain. At this point we weren’t sure if it was her body or her pride that was hurt more, so we journeyed on to our next destination and set her down in the sand while the rest of us enjoyed the dunes. Our final stop of the day would be a camel ride, and with her mom’s sense of stubbornness, Big Pea was determined to keep the appointment.

If you’ve ever ridden a camel before, you might be thinking “you would have been better off skipping.” And now that we’ve had the experience, we’d probably all agree. While it was a great photo opp and a “once-in-a-lifetime” experience, riding a camel is not comfortable. Especially when you’re on a camel that doesn’t feel like taking a walk, and spends the entire adventure trying to kick your dangling legs with his front hoofs. About 10 minutes into the ride we asked the camel minders to head back, but they let us know it was a one-way trip and we’d need to hang in there until we met our guide at the end destination. 

As we were approaching sweet relief, a herd of wild camels started walking our way. I asked our guides about them, and through the language barrier the only information I was able to pick out was “dangerous.” When the camels drew closer the guides started to get agitated and yell to scare them off, making the two helpless parents stuck on top of disgruntled transportation feel a little nervous. The wild camels followed us for a few minutes, but eventually gave up amid the yelling and waving. We finally reached our chariot (or at least that’s what the bed of the truck felt like after the back of a camel) and started the trek out of the desert. While the setting was magical and we loved our experience there, the tension of the last few hours had us ready to re-enter civilization. 

After we reached the car, we started our harrowing drive to Petra. It was going to be our last day in Jordan and our only chance to see the site, so there was no way an injured child was going to ruin our plans. We didn’t see any swelling and figured it was just a sprain, but since Big Pea couldn’t put any pressure on her right leg, we made arrangements to use a wheelchair from the hotel and planned to use the golf cart system within the park. 

Early the next morning I loaded Big Pea up on my back, and we made the short trek to the entrance. JP and Big Pea waited for their transportation, while the little kids and I started the walk to the first meeting point. For those of you not familiar with Petra, you walk through a slot canyon that’s about 1 km long, and emerge to the great treasury immediately in front of you. It’s a stunning moment. After this point, you get to explore the remains of temples and castles built into the sides of the sandstone, as you make the one-way journey toward the park exit (passing several “tourist stops” selling the now-familiar chai and incense on the way). The preservation amidst the wind and rain is absolutely remarkable, and the scale of the buildings is mind-blowing.

While in the park, we encountered some of the Bedouin people who still call Petra home. We were surprised to learn that there are still some who live in the hills of the protected area. Many of these families make their living offering mule rides out of the park for those who don’t want to make the hot, uphill trek back to the entrance, and are fully convinced that every person should hire their services because the government has come in and turned their land into a tourist destination. It’s easy to see their point, until you experience the mule shakedown and forcefully decline. On repeat. You see, we didn’t need a ride back to the entrance, because we’d be taking the shuttle, as explained by the helpful employee at the information desk. 

Well, apparently the shuttle stop was recently moved, to give the locals with the mules more opportunity for people to hire their services. But after we’d fought off the mules maffia, and because our backsides were still sore from our camel-experience the day before, there was no way we were going to hop on the back of the four-legged creature. So, JP put Big Pea on his shoulders, and started the walk. While we’d declined to ride the mules, we were very glad for the entertainment they provided as we walked uphill in the direct sun. At one point we saw a young boy, maybe 5 or 6 years old, gleefully riding bareback and bouncing around like a balloon on a windy day. Not far behind him was a teenage girl with her small dog standing behind her on the animals rump, trying desperately to gain a foothold and eventually giving up and jumping off. 

We finally made it to the shuttle, and enjoyed the cool ride back to the visitor’s center near our hotel. OK, maybe the ride wasn’t cool. And maybe we had to get out for fifteen minutes at another tourist shop before the driver would continue. But we were sitting down and not carrying an 11-year-old, and we made friends with a couple who’d just road-tripped through Iran and Syria and had many fun stories to tell, so we were happy. 

After we cooled off and had a shower, James went to pull the car around to go to dinner, to discover that one of the tires was flat. Wah, wah. In no time at all our car was surrounded by men who procured a pump and a jack, and quickly swept us out of the way, as they put on the spare in less time than you can say cave of wonders. Clearly they’d had some practice in this area. One of the employees of the hotel took the tire to be patched (at his own expense) while we were at dinner, and upon our return it was ready and waiting for us. This was a display of hospitality we won’t soon forget. 

The next morning we packed up the car and began our drive back to Amman, amidst the first rain of the trip. As we made our way out of town, we were reminded that not every car is made to drive uphill in the rain. After some backsliding and running a few stop signs, we made it out of the hills and onto the highway. We pulled into a gas station and turned off the car to fill up, to discover that this station didn’t take card, and we were fresh out of cash. No problem, there’s another station just a few kilometers up the road. James turns the key, the car doesn’t respond. After a few more tries it became clear that the car wasn’t going to start without some help. We needed a jump, and the customer ahead of us plus several other locals again quickly jumped into action to help us, in spite of the downpour and the lack of cover at this station. We finally made it back to the rental car company and only had to get through one final shakedown before arriving at the airport. The moral of the story? Rent from Avis or Hertz next time. 

Oh, and the kid who got hurt climbing? We’d find out in a few days that her leg was broken. But since I’ve been going on for ages about our time in Jordan, I won’t spend any more time talking about what it’s like to navigate the airport in a less developed country with a kid in a wheelchair. I’ll just leave it at…carry them if you can. 

While our time in the country was filled with misadventures, we had the absolute best time and would recommend a visit to Jordan for any family looking to experience a completely different culture and way of life. Just make sure to bring your patience and adaptability, because it won’t be anything like you expected.