Today is a designated "day off" to go visit the archaeological sight of Gadara (modern day Umm Qais), within spitting distance of the Jordan-Israeli border. From here you can see the Sea of Galilee (to my right - you can barely see it from the haze, but take my word for it, it's there), and it is this general vicinity where Jesus set down with the disciples and encountered the demoniac, whom he promptly exorcised, casting Legion ("for we are many") into a herd of swine, which promptly drowned themselves in the sea.
The town of Gadara is approximately 350m above sea level, and was founded 3rd century BCE by the Ptolemies. It was captured by Alexander Jannaeus 1st Century BCE, but by 64 BCE it was belonging to the Roman province of Syria. It's Roman occupation lasted until CE 324, and consequently experienced a Byzantine rule (324 - 636) followed by Ummayad Occupation (661 - 750).
Most of the buildings on the site probably weren't yet erected during the days when Jesus walked - the site boasts an impressive amphitheater, town square, and lots of tombs. LOTS of tombs. I managed to find my way into quite a few of them, but sad to say the dead had already risen, so to speak. You can see the graves etched into the stone in quite a number of them.
Was feeling the need for a bit of alone time this morning, and spent a glorious couple of hours wondering around. In actual fact I felt this was more for the benefit of my American friends than yours truly - they probably needed more of a break from me than I from them. I'm sure the novelty of having a token Australian on board had well and truly worn off. As it works out I'm probably worrying over nothing, still, one wants to ensure that I don't wear out my welcome.
Just check out these sarcophegae!! Needless to say I didn't have the strength to open them, but I'm sure they'd be just as empty as the other graves I'd seen.
Come 12.30 and we're back on the bus heading Irbid. Our assignment was to hang out, buy whatever provisions we needed, and make our own way back to Hartha, about 20 mins away. Dr Dave had given a sheet of Arabic phrases that allowed us to ask directions to the Northern Bus Station to find the bus to Hartha. Or we could simply get a taxi, appropriate phrases provided for such a task as well. Sounds simple I know, how could you go wrong? Nevertheless I did find the exercise a bit of a challenge, and I was determined to do so by bus rather than the "easy" option of getting a taxi.
Still operating under my "alone time" initiative, I got the bus to drop me at the local Safeway, just to stock up on some supplies - in particular I was in desperate need for a couple of face washers, some band aids, chewing gum, and felt that the kitchen could do with some extra tea towels and cleaning cloths. Having lost a bandana the other day on our tour of the site (you can never have too many bandanas), thought a few more of these wouldn't go astray either.
Safeway was OK, but didn't take Visa. Not that cash was an issue, but I only had about 20 JD on me, and who knows how much of that I'd need to get home. Up the road was the Arabella Mall, which feature quite the sophisticated super marked. Chook Chook or Chick Chick or some such name that escapes me. This one did allow for Visa purchases, and also required you to check your bag at the entrance, receiving the obligatory numbered ticket for easy pickup (no searching of the bag funnily enough). Got said supplies (no bandanas sadly - these have so been hard to track down).
Had a wander around down, had some hooka and coffee and one of the many "old man" hooka bars, did some internet banking - then come 4 o'clock thought it was high time to check out this bus action.
Now, Dear Reader, the bus system in Irbid is a little hard to get your head around. Most cities will have bus stops showing numbered routes, with numbered buses that'll probably at least allow you to sit for the entire bus route to get you acquainted with the particular city. Not so here. No discernible bus stops that I could see, and the large mini buses that act as Irbid's bus system don't have any discernible markings that would indicate where it'll take you (not for these tired eyes anyway).
Played observation for ten minutes, trying to find where buses stop and what people do when they get on (ie do the pay the driver first, do they drop a coin in a box, do they pay later?). First couple of attempts proved to be pretty fruitless. First driver yelled at me when asking for the Northern Bus Stop in my broken arabic, then drove off shouting "Arabic, Arabic". Second guy just shook his head and drove off. Managed to have some success with the third driver, who then took me to another stop, motioning that this bus would take me to Hartha. Wouldn't accept my fare of a Half JD.
This bus didn't quite get to Hartha, but the end of the line did end up being the Northern Bus Stop. I asked him about Hartha, he motioned me to follow him, we crossed the road to another bus, spoke to the driver, and motioned me to get on.
Now a short note should be made about Jordanian buses (and Irbid buses in particular). Generally you will find the seating arrangements are one row of single seats on the right side, and a row of double seats on the other. Now seats on the right side are generally reserved for women. Women can sit on the left double side as well, but if you are a man and a woman has a spare seat next to her in the double row, then you do NOT sit next to her. Generally one is confronted with a pretty full bus as it is when you get on, and any spares on the double side can be limited. I ended up going with the safe option and sitting on the platform at the front of the bus, diagonally behind the driver, facing all the passenger. Kept my sunglasses on to avoid eye contact with the ladies - hard for me, I know.
Now as I'd mentioned, no discernible bus stops appear to exist. When people wish for the bus to stop, they tap their coin against the window, loud enough for the driver to hear, who will generally drop them at the nearest available space on the side of the road. As far as I could, anyone standing on the side of the road could generally signal for the bus to stop, and it would, unless it was super full, and I mean SUPER FULL.
At one stage an older guy got on, and I got up to give him my space. The driver then abused some kid in the seat in front of me, who promptly stood. The driver told me to please sit in the kid's seat, and the old man sat down in the space I'd been occupying. Now of course I'd like to think the seat was given to me because I was a foreigner and a visitor to Jordan. However it has just occurred to me that I may have been given the seat simply because I was old. Surely not, but anything's possible.
Finally made it to Hartha. Not that I would have known, didn't recognize any landmarks until I saw the roundabout up ahead, and tapped madly on the glass. Ha, made it home by three buses, cost me about 3 JD all up, and didn't cop out by taking a taxi. Bought a water melon on the way home, just so that I could stride into camp, proclaiming my superiority in catching the bus, and look, I have provided you all with water melon. My cunning plan kinda fell flat - the kitchen already had two water melons and a cantelope, and most people had taken the bus, as it turns out. And they only required one bus. And they found David's translations and directions to be more than adequate.
I simply put it down to my pronunciation, and left it at that.
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