My obsession with Petra

British poet John William Burgon described Petra in 1840 as a "rose-red city half as old as time." Here, a glimpse of El Khazneh (the Treasury) from the narrow passage of the Siq.

Since its discovery in 1812 the world has been enchanted by Petra, a city carved intricately into the rock face of the Wadi Rum in Jordan. The first sketches and paintings of the place captured the attention of archeologists, historians and tourists alike - spurring expeditions to the remote Nabataean city and giving it a permanent place on the map.

I also became enchanted with Petra through a more modern form of art: film. The specific movie? Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Silly? Perhaps, but the guy was my childhood idol and, in my mind, any place he went had to be worth going to.

Despite growing up and discovering Indiana was an actor (THAT was a tragic day), the idea of traveling to Petra still stuck. And although the point of this trip is primarily to "enhance my knowledge of international development and international reporting issues and skills" (according to the IDRC outline), I think I'm still entitled to some tourist-like indulgences.

Unfortunately, I already know my visit there will be nothing like how I imagine it. Lonely Planet says up to 3,000 people travel there everyday and I bet it's damn near impossible to take a photo without some tourist's arm or leg getting in the shot. I know it's hypocritcal for me to gripe about this (being a tourist myself), but wouldn't it be nice to enjoy this little piece of history alone? To step out of the narrow passageway of the Siq and bask in the magnificence of The Treasury in solitude, as that first Swiss traveler did nearly 200 years ago?

I'll just have to put my overactive imagination to good use, tune out the dronings of the tour guide and pretend.

Ticket in hand

It's official! My tickets have been purchased and I'm set to depart to Amman from Toronto on June 4th. I return on December 21st, just in time for Christmas.

Odd, how a little piece of paper can bring reality crashing all down around you...

Oh, and thank you Hala habibti for your wonderful blog tribute!

The only Arabic word I know is "donkey"

... well that's not entirely true. I also know imshi and yalla which are both equivalent to something like "let's go" in English. But it's just occurred to me that the pathetic extent of my Arabic vocabulary will be pretty much useless when I arrive in Amman. Seems when I was living with my Middle Eastern friend for three years during undergrad, those were the only words that stuck. Go figure.

They're quite useful however, while driving behind a slow moving vehicle: "Imshi, imshi! Yalla, y' hmar!" (Go, go! Move it, you donkey!) It doesn't quite feel like road rage when you're yelling it in another language.

Perhaps I'll find myself on a donkey during my travels and for once it'll make total literal sense.

Thankfully I've been allowed to budget some Arabic language lessons while in Jordan and I'm hoping that won't be a complete disaster. I love languages, but Arabic seems daunting. If I learned anything from having listened to one particular Jordanian for several years, it's to say whatever you've got to say ten times louder than everyone else. Not sure if that's a requirement of the language or just her.

Destination: Amman, Jordan

There have been few people who, when responding to my announcement that I'm headed to the Middle East for six months have said, "... and you're happy about this, WHY?"

It's this reaction that further propells me to make the trip. Certainly, this trip wouldn't be happening if it weren't for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity presented to me by the International Development and Research Centre as recipient of its international journalism award. As a result of this award I get to do what I love best, working at the country's largest English daily newspaper, the Jordan Times.

But it's the stigma of the Middle East too casually propagated here in the West that made me choose the region for this project. Sure, parts of it are volatile and politically unstable but that doesn't mean we should unfairly generalize about the whole region, nor should we allow the conflict to force us inside our homes, lock our doors and pretend it doesn't exist. Of course, I'm not exactly planning on charging into Israel or Iraq with my pen and notebook in hand. I'm not that brave (yet). Jordan is a nice, relatively safe and neutral place for an aspiring international journalist to start. Or at least, this is what I keep telling myself.

I can't neglect to mention the OTHER reason why I chose Jordan. That reason's name is Hala - my dear friend from university days gone by. She and her family live in Amman, where she works as a journalist herself and where she promises to show me the time of my life.

No doubt, it'll be a fabulous reunion and one helluva adventure.