The Journey

Trip Two: Weddings and Wild-Eyed Children, August 2011

The second trip to Palestine was in August of 2011. Zak and Bucker were along for the ride, and they were ages 2 and 4 at the time. The trip was a recipe for disaster from the beginning as we had just moved from the U.S. to Berlin three weeks prior, and we were still reeling from mountains of unpacked boxes and the shock of moving overseas. I hadn’t even finished unpacking when it was time to pack again for Palestine. It wasn’t an opportune time to visit, but two of Raed’s brothers were getting married, and we really wanted to be there for them. I won’t go into great detail about this trip, because although it was great to see everyone, it was a boot camp of weddings (which last about 3 nights each and run late into the night), heat, and too many people, all of which led to a lot of chaos. The kids and I were in survival mode, which meant no set bedtimes for the kids and mountains of sweets and even the occasional caffeinated beverage they slipped by me (mother of the year award for me, I know). We actually have video of Bucker nodding off in his chair at one of the wedding celebrations! We didn’t travel out of Thahryieh, Raed’s hometown, and mainly stayed around to help with wedding festivities. 

Trip Three From Berlin: A Veteran, May 2013

Ok, so this obviously isn't us, but it's not far off...

 The Berlin afternoon is cloudless and sunny as we scurry down the stairs to meet our taxi driver who was waiting patiently outside our apartment building. The trip begins like most trips do with excitement and high spirits as we wind our way North to Tegal airport. The conversation is the usual with Raed asking the tan-faced taxi driver about where he was “from” even if he’s lived in Berlin for his entire life. The driver is a Turkish Muslim, as many taxi drivers are in Berlin, and he offers us the “brudder” (brother) price for our fare, which is 10 euros cheaper than it would be otherwise since he and Raed find common ground in the fact that they’re both Muslim. Following proper decorum for such a transaction, Raed then insists on an overly generous tip, which makes up for the “brudder” discount and everything evens out. At the airport, our gate is conspicuously full of hijab-clad women and lots of children, a definite indication that we’re headed to the Arab world.

Immediately upon boarding the plane, the difference in the mannerisms of the people strikes me. The flight attendants play with Bucker and Zak’s hair and quickly win their affection. Later in the trip, Bucker insists on heading to the back of the plane to tell one of the attendants that he wants to be her friend. He returns with the flight attendant ten minutes later proclaiming that he’s going to marry her, and that we need to buy her jewelry in Palestine (the common gift from a groom to his bride). The only problem was that he “loves” the other flight attendant as well, so he decides that he will simply marry both of them. They get a good laugh out of the whole scene, and they play along well.  

Upon our arrival in Amman’s newly renovated Queen Alia Airport with expansive baggage claim areas and sparkling clean tile floors, I notice two baggage handlers standing side by side facing a large window praying the evening prayer. We then find our bags and find a cab. In typical Arab fashion, the driver insists that his economy four-door sedan has plenty of room to accommodate our four giant suitcases and all four of us. “Welcome, welcome,” he beckons. After some debate, we end up with two suitcases strapped on top and the rest of us pile inside. The car has certainly seen its better days, and has suffered the effects of a chain smoking driver, but we’re happy to be headed to our hotel nonetheless, and start out on the desert road toward downtown Amman.

Highway near the Dead Sea

Darkness has already fallen as we drive down the highway with a bright moon and clear stars overhead. Raed is chatting with the driver, and (of course) discovers that he’s originally from a neighboring town in Palestine. We pull over at one of the roadside stands with neon lights flashing advertising strong coffee with no sugar, “Seder” style. I find it humorous that the driver thinks nothing of this pit stop and how unusual it would be in Germany or the States. After taking a moment for a smoke and arguing with Raed over who would pay for the coffee (they were both insisting), we resume our journey with invigorating coffee in hand and a mysterious purple juice that the kids seem to love. As we enter into downtown Amman, the city is alive, despite the late hour. Even at 10 p.m. there are small children and families sitting outside enjoying coffee or dinner, and scarf-clad women smoke water pipes in crowded cafes. We finally arrive at our hotel exhausted, and relieved to have come this far. 

Downtown Amman at night (Courtesy of www.jordaniantimes.com)