A Weekend Excursion: Dead Sea

What better is there to do on a beautiful, warm Friday afternoon than to escape the city? After packing up two cars, a group of my local friends and I set out for the Dead Sea.  It seemed as if half of Amman had the same idea, as the public beach was packed.  Families gathered on the picnic blankets, with the women making kebab on small grills, the men smoking argileh (hookah) and the children running around the pebbly shore and in the salty water.  As it was a public beach, I was only bold enough to just wear my long basketball shorts that reached below the knees.  Every woman wore the hijab (veil), and were completely covered.  The men, on the other hand, would strip down, many not even wearing proper swim wear (I saw a lot more to middle aged men than I cared to see).  All enjoyed the water.  Despite its salinity, I feared that some of the women might drown from all the layers of clothing they wore.

Partway through the evening, I noticed (along with the rest of the beach) a lone young blond woman, clearly not Arab, wearing only a string bikini and wandering the beach as if lost.  After watching for a minutes, I decided it was too painful and rushed up to her with my large beach towel.  We started talking, and I learned that this Canadian had decided to move to Jordan to work here for ten years, and then she planned to move to the "Holy Land." In the meantime, she had been staying at some apartment by the Dead Sea, and hadn't had the opportunity to get out much. Clearly. Today was one of those few opportunities and she seemed to have missed the memo that public beaches tend to be more conservative.  As if bikinis are really accepted anywhere in Jordan.... Anyways, this poor girl lost her purse, which contained her money, ID and passport.  She ended up going to the tourism police, and while there, two men approached our group and asked me if I had a friend who had lost a purse.  Well, I was thoroughly surprised and excited (as I was pretty pessimistic about the whole situation) and rushed to get the girl.

The girl, the police, the two men, me and my friend all went to the location of the purse and before we had even fully arrived, a crowd of about fifty men had gathered. Anybody's business is everybody's business here.  Ahlan wa sahlan.  (Welcome.)  I stepped back as I clearly had nothing else to attribute to the whole situation. One curious gentlemen, wanting to push to the center of the milieu, saw me standing back, hands free, so he handed me his baby girl - not even a year old - smiled, and then tried to the discussion (there is always a discussion).  Again, ahlan wa sahlan - it's normal.  I now had a baby.

Well, the purse drama got cleared up, and despite a missing 150 dinars ($220), the girl reclaimed her items and departed the beach.  My friend and I returned to our picnic, baby still in hand.  It should be noted that I tried to return the wide-eyed baby, but the father just smiled and waved me away.  The poor baby went from person to person, receiving all sorts of baby-talk and kisses from members of my group before she started crying and the father came to take her away.  After several more hours of argileh, music and stories, we packed up and headed back to Amman.  We left around midnight and there was still a great number of families continuing their picnic on the beach.

If there is one thing Jordanians love, it is a family picnic. :)  I like this culture.

Picnic by the Dead Sea: me and my family :)