Gory Picnic

My plans to stay home today and study (midterms in three weeks!) were set aside to go on a picnic and Saturday drive with my host family, as they normally go out in the Spring on this picnic to the Ghor. They had a really tough time convincing me to go along sightseeing and having lunch al fresco, but I finally relented and assented to allowing them the pleasure of my presence. They practically had to drag me out the door.

Riiiiiiiiight.

We started by driving to the town of Jerash, built around the ruins of Jerash, where we stopped to pick up food for the picnic. This was an adventure in itself, requiring stopping at several shops while my host parents bought lebnah (a strained yoghurt), grilled meat, bread, water, Pepsi, and labneh (a drink made from lebnah and carbonated water) – all the fixings.

While waiting out one of the shops, a protest or demonstration arose – lots of honking cars filled with shebaab piled about and singing. My host dad joined in the honking as we tried to get through the congestion, and then went through the narrow back streets.

We drove and drove and drove a little bit more, heading through Ajloun, past myriads of cars and families that had the same idea of a spring picnic. Finally settling on a spot, we got out and ate our lamb grill sandwiches and drank labneh. I must admit, though, that I don’t think yoghurt and fizzy water just should be mixed. Fizzy water and artificial cola flavoring, yes. Fizzy water and fermented dairy products, not so much.

More driving through the beautiful countryside followed. We went through several wadis, curing up and down mountain roads that I didn’t think the vehicle could conquer. We stopped once to do a bit of leg stretching, and my host brother and I quickly went off to scramble about the rocks. I really pity boys that grow up without mountains, or dogs, or goats, or at least sandlots to conquer.

After a few more hours of driving, we pulled into a small town where my host parents went to buy vegetables and I, my host sister, and the maid waited in the car. We watched a wedding procession go through the dusty streets: two minibuses, multiple conversion vans, cars, and pickups all packed with people leaning out the windows, clapping and singing.

My host parents returned. More driving. We passed through what should be the Jordan National Golf Course – the largest in the world. One hole per hill; comes with its own nature-made sand-traps.

A few more stops for fresh vegetables – 1JD for an immense amount of peppers and tomatoes; come summer, a kilo goes for 10 piasters or so. We drove as far to the western border of Jordan as we could and saw a beautiful sunset from the far mountains across the border.