Bruce Douglas Reeves, Author

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A MARRIAGE IN MOTION, 43: Golden Days in Jordan & Syria, 1994

3/10/2018

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Sherrill, my wife, and I visited more than 60 countries and most of the United States during our 52 years of marriage.  This is number 43 of a series about our lives and travels, true stories of two people discovering the world, each other, and themselves through five decades of traveling together.  If you scroll down, you'll come to earlier posts in this series.  To start at the beginning of our marriage and travels look at the Archives list in the sidebar and start with May, 2017. Older posts are a previous series.
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​              "Why?" a friend asked when we told him where we were going next.
              "We've never been there," Sherrill answered. 
              "And it'll be a trip back in time," I added.  "Way back...." 
PictureSherrill, ready for adventure, with driver in Jordan
​              On the lookout for adventures beyond anything we'd done so far, Sherrill had discovered someone who took very small groups to parts of the world that few others at the time were visiting.  Hala was interested in everything and eager to share her discoveries.  A trip with her was an adventure.  She became a lifelong friend and in eleven trips over the course of two decades introduced to us to some of the most exciting places we ever spent time in—trips that were not just "highlights" of these places, but the most in-depth, unique, travel experiences  of our lives.  Our first adventure with this new friend was to Jordan and Syria, also the first countries of the Middle East that Sherrill and I visited.  We quickly grew to love that part of the world and its people and returned many times.  

​               We both were looking forward to this new kind of trip, but Sherrill also was excited because it was launching her into the seas of early retirement. 
              "After thirty years," she exulted, "it's about time!"
              The security routine at London's Heathrow airport where we boarded the Royal Jordanian plane for Amman was unlike anything we'd experienced.  This was long before 9/11 and the enhanced security that followed.  Our hand baggage was x-rayed several times and I was frisked at least two or three times and an electronic wand was used over Sherrill more than once.  We wondered if somebody knew something we didn't, then decided that even if they did we didn't want to know. 
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Sherrill & "Treasury," Petra, Jordan
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Nabatean Tombs, Petra, Jordan
​              Whatever was or was not going on, we got to Amman safely.  The food at the Amman hotel introduced us to what soon became, during the years we traveled through the Middle East, a favorite menu: meze: a variety of appetizers, eggplant with tahini (baba ghanoush) hummus, olives, feta cheese, grape leaf dolma, pocket bread, fish or chicken in cream sauce, lamb, and pistachio-topped custard or ice cream, often with mint tea.  
PictureSherrill, ancient Petra, Jordan
​              After four hours stirring up red dust across the rocky desert landscape from Amman, we confronted the massive sandstone cliffs guarding the ancient Nabatean city of Petra.  Then, from a little Rest House next to the cliffs, we rode horses through the almost hidden siq, a mile-long gorge that was so narrow (only three meters wide at times) that sometimes the wandering ribbon of sky far above vanished.  
              The first of the temples, the so-called "Treasury," suddenly appeared before us as we emerged from the far end of the tunnel-like siq.  More than a dozen stories tall, it was hard to imagine how anyone could have carved it out of the sandstone—and it was only the first of many such wonders, no less impressive because of the crouching camels and young Bedouins lounging in front of it.  At last, Sherrill was following in the steps of her heroines, Gertrude Bell and Isabella Bird, two women of the 19th and early 20th centuries who defied the conventions of their times to explore the world, going alone to places that few European or British "ladies" went at all. 

​              As a restless sun licked at the ancient buildings chiseled from the variegated pink and red cliffs, they seemed to be transformed one by one from sandstone into strips of watered silk.  Behind these sculpted facades, we discovered empty sandstone rooms lit only by the sun reaching through the doors.  The days spent in Petra were full of wonders, but were almost too hot to climb the rocky paths and chiseled steps to explore the highest carved buildings.
              "Go ahead," Sherrill told me several times.  "I'll stay down here in the shade."
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Sherrill, Petra
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Roman Theatre, Petra, Jordan
​The next morning, we left the Rest House at 8:30, so we could continue exploring the Nabatean city and the newer Roman city beyond it before the day grew miserably hot.  This historic wonder had been created nearly three thousand years before and then forgotten for a thousand years.  We had entered another world—and loved it.  
​              Caravans traveling back and forth from distant lands once passed through here with their exotic, valuable wares, but it couldn't have been easy for them.  Just driving down one side of the huge Wadi Miyab canyon was terrifying—the twisting road was scarcely wider than a single vehicle.  Maybe it would have been less frightening on a camel. 
              "Why is it that the most interesting places have the worst roads?" I moaned.
              Sherrill patted me on the knee: "This isn't nearly as scary as China." 
              "Not yet." 
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Sherrill, Wadi Mujib, Jordan
              We survived that road and much worse in our travels over the years, but the challenge was worth the stress as we explored one astonishing historical site after another.  Civilizations came to this dry land, stayed a while, then left behind their spectacular debris: tombs, castles, temples, and more.  Another early morning start took us to Jerash, the ancient capital that Hala called the most "exquisitely preserved Graeco-Roman city in the world." 
              "How did it manage to survive for all these centuries?" I asked, as we hiked among the elegant theatres, Roman baths, temples, oval-shaped forum, colonnaded street, even a race course and an arch dedicated to Hadrian.  
              "Never mind," Sherrill replied, "just be glad it did." 
              Few tourists were walking the streets of Jerash when we were there in 1994, but it felt like a real city, a place where people could live, even today.  We felt privileged that we were there and wondered why more people didn't come to experience this amazing place.
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Sherrill, Jerash, Jordan
​              After crossing the border from Jordan into Syria, we noticed more men than women on the streets in the small towns, both dressed conservatively, many in traditional, shapeless clothing that covered them completely.  From time to time, we stopped, met people, even tried varieties of the delicious local flat bread, hot out of the ovens.  Later, we stopped for lunch in a small cafe.  Everyone we met as we traveled throughout the country during the rest of the trip was gracious and welcoming and seemed genuinely pleased that we were there.
              "No need to fear terrorists," one man told us.  "This is a safe country." 
PictureSherrill, Damascus, Syria, 1994
​              Syria, we learned, could claim more than three thousand archeological sites, many of them remarkable in age, beauty, and significance.  One of the first to impress us with its unique beauty was Bosra, a Roman city built entirely of black basalt—one of six UNESCO World Heritage Sites in Syria.  However, I read not long ago that parts of it have been destroyed during the recent years of the so-called civil war.
              We still saw few western tourists, but while we were in the country, U.S. President Bill Clinton also was there, meeting with the Syrian president for life, Hafez Assad, father of the current dictator.  According to the newspapers, their meeting focused on the conflict between Israel and the Arab world.  We saw no mention of the rights of Syrian citizens.  We did see a number of large billboards in Damascus and other cities, though, of the smiling, shark-eyed Assad trying to look fatherly.     
              "It would be exciting to see Bill Clinton while we're here," Sherrill said, wistfully, but of course it didn't happen. 

​              Damascus, the oldest continuously occupied city in the world, continually surprised and delighted us.  On an early morning walk I found my way to the city's ancient covered souk before most of the shops were open, but some vendors already had spread wares on blankets in front of the shops.  During the next days, we returned to the souk, which led beneath its high, patchwork ceiling to a Roman arch and the historic "Street Called Straight."  
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Main Souk, Damascus, 1994
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Roman Gate, Street Called Straight, Damascus
​              We visited a great mosque, walked through an ancient caravansary, and visited a hammam nearly as old.  The city extended back in time to when people first domesticated animals and planted crops. It was the original "melting pot." Crossroads for trade from around the world, the fabled Silk Road passed through it.  It seemed almost impossible that so much of the distant past could still exist and be part of the lives of the people there.   
PictureSherrill in chador, Mosque, Damascus, 1994
​        In Damascus and other large cities that we visited, such as Aleppo, people seemed more open to change than in the less populous areas. We saw, for instance, young men in jeans and tee shirts, men in business suits, and women in smart-looking suits and dresses that could have been worn in San Francisco, although the skirts were somewhat longer, the necklines higher, and sleeves longer than was usual in the United States.
           Every day turned into a treasure chest of experiences: archaeological sites, visits with people in their homes, trips to mosques, palaces, museums, a tomb reputed to hold the head of John the Baptist.  It seemed to be a particularly good time to visit Syria because it was in transition, blending old and new customs, but we had no idea where this growing tsunami of change would sweep the people and the country.  

​              Since then, of course, a quarter of a million Syrian people have been killed, tanks and planes have leveled neighborhoods, all six of Syria's World Heritage sites have been damaged or destroyed, some during fighting, others deliberately.  Almost daily, the media are filled with images of anguish and pain.  Today, thousands of Syrians huddle in basements and underground shelters, desperately waiting for aid as their own government rains bombs on them.  In 1994, few could have foreseen this complicated, deadly struggle. 
​To be continued....  
If you find these posts interesting, why not explore the rest of my website, too? Just click on the buttons at the top of the page and discover where they take you—including to several complete short stories and excerpts from my novels.  Please pass the posts on to anybody else you think might enjoy them.  
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          I've been writing at least since age seven, making up stories before that, and exploring the world almost as long as I can remember.  This blog is mostly about writing and traveling -- for me the perfect life. 
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          My most recent book is DELPHINE, winner of the Clay Reynolds Novella Prize.        Recently, my first novel, THE NIGHT ACTION, has been republished by Automat Press as an e-book, available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other sources.  CLICK here to buy THE NIGHT ACTION e-book.

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