Jerash

On Saturday, December 1, I took the family to Jerash to see the Roman ruins.

We started by riding a cab from Sports City to the new bus terminal next to Queen Alia's military hospital. We boarded the bus to Jerash but there were only four seats and there were five of us, so we got off and waited for the next bus. The people on the first bus were upset by this because buses don't leave the terminal until they're full. I suppose if they were really upset enough, someone could have given us their seat. I wasn't about to stand or have someone sit on my lap from Amman to Jerash.

We got off the bus at the ruins and passed through security. (When you look like me, you get searched. It's a part of life. Once in an airport I told the lady at the boarding gate that I would bet her $20 that I would be randomly selected to be searched for security purposes. She refused, and good for her. By chance, I was randomly selected. Yes, I know that gambling is haram, but it's not gambling when you're sure of the outcome. I had discovered the pattern to the security characters on boarding passes so I knew I'd be checked.) After walking through a bunch of vendor shops, we came to a ticketing centre. I asked to purchase tickets for the RACE (Roman Army and Chariot Experience) show but the guy said he sold tickets for another purpose and the show tickets were further up ahead, next to the hippodrome. As we approached the hippodrome, a police officer asked me if I had tickets. I said no, and that the guy at the ticket counter told me to get them over here. He said I had to go back to get tickets. I told him that I had just come from the guy and he told me he didn't have any tickets for the show. He said, "tell him I sent you." So, off I went, futilely, not sure what I was supposed to do. The guy at the ticket counter told me, "I told you I don't have tickets." I said, "Explain that to the police officer." An older man who worked in the ticket booth called a young boy and said, "Show him where to go." The young boy directed me back where I had come from, past the police officer (who either realized he was wrong or thought that I had bought tickets) to the ticketing table next to the hippodrome.

At the ticketing table, the man wanted to charge my oldest daughter adult fair. I told her she's my daughter and is 11. However, I was unsure whether or not I should pay adult fair for my son, who is 13. I tried asking him what the upper age limit was for children and he kept repeating, "Children three years and older are 2 JD." Finally, I said, "Two years until fifteen?" And he said, "Yes, fifteen." So I paid the child rate for all three children. Yes, I know the website says that children thirteen and over are charged as adults, but that's what the Ministry of Tourism told me as well about Petra, but when I got there, they told me children fifteen and under are free, so I just depend on what employees tell me.

The show starts with a display of Roman legionary practice, moves on to a gladiator show and ends with a chariot race. The gladiator show was OK, but they didn't actually kill the loser when we requested it. After the show, members of the audience are allowed to take pictures next to the actors.




When done with the show, we headed towards Hadrian's Arch. A police officer asked us where our tickets were. I told him we didn't have any and asked him where to buy them from. He said way back at the entrance. When he saw that it was going to be a hassle for us to head all the way back to buy tickets, he asked me if we were Jordanians. I told him that I had an annual residency, so he asked to see it. "You're Canadian?", he asked. Upon answering in the affirmative, he asked the obligatory second question, "Where are you from originally?" "Egypt", I told him. He gave the generic Jordanian cordial response, "May Allah preserve your life." He said to go ahead without tickets. I told him I'd buy tickets on the way out but he said not to worry about it.

A short distance past Hadrian's Arch, you'll see the Oval Forum (first picture in this blog entry) on your right and a series of steps and columns to your left. If you continue walking forward and circle around to the left, you'll find your way to the amazingly well-preserved Southern Amphitheatre. If you stand at the centre of the performance area and speak, your voice resonates throughout the theatre. At the top of the amphitheatre you get a wonderful view ofthe lower ruins including the Oval Forum and the colonnade.

On the way out, we stopped at the vendors near the entrance and got our names written in a sand-art bottle. One of the vendors also taught me how to distinguish between a genuine ring stone and plastic: if you touch a stone to your lips, it feels colder than plastic. I ended up buying two more silver pinky rings: one with a turquoise stone and the other with carnelian (Ar. aqeeq).