I made it and am sitting here at my little table in my little dorm at
the American Center for Oriental Research (ACOR). The trip was wild!
The plane frm Utah to Chicago wasn't able to dock for 30 minutes after
we arrived, so I had to literally sprint to my Frankfurt connection (as
the plane was already boarding). On that flight, there was a very young girl w/
two babies--one about two and the other 6 months. Her husband
was stationed in the military in Germany & she was returning from
the states where she had attended her sister's funeral. The babies were
fussing a bit--ok, down right bawling, but instead of comforting them
she would yell at them "Stop it!" or "Hush up" or "shut-up!" Of course,
that only made the kids more stressed, of course. This was going on
and on and people were turning around giving the poor girl dirty looks.
She was obviously overwhelmed. So I asked her if I could help by walking
the little one, which I did, for about an hour. Then he fell asleep and I sat
down with him, holding him while he slept. I slept too, for quite a while,
only to be awakened by my entire lap being soaked as his diapers overflowed.
Hence, I arrived in Frankfurt with a lap stain and smelling of urine.
The flight to Amman was uneventful as I slept through it. Once at
Amman I waited for 1.5 hours for my luggage (while my lap dried)--
Only to have it (my luggage) not show up. But luckily, the baggage check
people found it. While waiting for my luggage, there was a Saudi man
(I assume) in a white kafton--with some women in black burkas.
One kept lifting up her vail to try to better see if the luggage were hers.
He would give her stern looks and she would return the stern looks, pull
the veil down and moments later lift the veil again. The were bickering like
siblings (or better stated--married people). The trials of marriage seem
to be universal.
Then I stood in line to have my visa stamped. When I finally made it to
the front, the man told me that the line I was in was the "pasport line"
and I had to stand in the line next to us--the "visa line." So I got in the
visa line for another 45 minutes. When I got to the front of the visa line,
the man behind the desk took my passport, handed it to the man who insisted
I take the second line and then he (the passport line man) stamped it!
My taxi ride was waiting, and had been waiting for close to two hours for me.
Driving into the city was interesting too. Along the side of the freeway,
periodically there would be people who appeared to be camping out. There
would be a few cars, or horses, (and once a camel), and people would be
squatting around a camp fire. These groups occured almost every mile or
two. I have to find out who they are.
I think I may have received the penthouse suite here at ACOR. There is
only one bedroom, so I won't ever have a roommate (yeah!). I have a little
3 by 2 foot fridge. I spoke with a few of the other people here and none
of them have fridges, they each have a frudge for the entire floor.
I've traveled for 23.5 hours and am fried. Amman is a beautiful, magical city.
salam, Laura
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1 comment:
Ahlan wa Salan, my sweet friend Kim pointed me to your blog. Your trip to Amman brings back many memories from my teen-age years in the 80's traveling to and from Saudi Arabia often through Chicago and Frankfurt. One time we were stuck for 3 days in Amman thank you Alia Airlines. In my memory the traditional Saudi ghutra (headress) is a red and white checked one. The all white were worn more by Kuwaitis. When we would come from the US in the late 80's they began requiring a man to meet you at the airport to receive you. You could not just walk out of the airport onto Saudi soil (even if you had the proper visa and had waited in all the wrong or right lines for hours and had your suitcases rifled through) without a male accompanying you. I believe they were pretty strict about it being your father though they did not ask the men for any identification. A neighbor boy of ours (oddly enough named Jordan) is 1/2 Jordanian and spends summers with his aunts there in Jordan. Do you have contacts there to begin your work? Also, my best friend is in Dhahran, Saudi Arabia with her husband and 3 kids, she's American but has lived in Saudi since 2nd grade (ARAMCO). She tells me visitors are starting to be able to get visas which was unheard of before. I will be watching your blog anxious that your experience is a rich one. My eight year old son is learning about atoms and of course it's not long before bombs start being mentioned. He's exhilarated by the thought of so much power but was under the impression that bombs like that were only used in wars on battlefields that were very big and far away from where innocent people could be hurt. I had a good heart to heart with him about Hiroshima and Nagasaki and why I don't like the xBox even though his dad (whom I'm married to and love dearly nonetheless) sees no harm in it. Celia
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