Jerash

We had this past weekend off so we took off on a bus to Jerash hoping to witness the glorious spectacle that was the Roman Empire, and also a nearby castle that apparently doesn't get much tourism.
Disaster struck immediately upon reaching Abdili station. We boarded a bus, payed our .5JD fare and waited for the bus to fill up. 2 hours later we pulled out of the station trying to choke away the diesel fumes slowly filling the cabin and trying, unsuccessfully, to look out the filthy windows at the scenery. Gratefully we left the bus upon reaching Hadrian's gate. The first step down from the bus, I stepped on a can and twisted my ankle...hard. Twenty minutes later I limped into the gate after paying my 8 JD admission. My ankle was fine but I decided to take it easy and rest occasionally. Unfortunately (or not) the best way to explore Jerash is to climb over everything. Hadrian's gate is a replica of what should've been there, as was the hippodrome beyond it. Both were reconstructed recently out of the fallen stone and were of the original design but 20 years ago neither structure existed. On the ground behind Hadrian's gate was an inscription of Greek and this kicked off the war of Jerash versus my intellect and my knowledge of Greco-Roman history. This particular instance was reconciled when I realized that Jerash had been a Byzantine city (hence the Greek) after the fall of the Western Roman Empire and before the Islamist wave. However the arch had originally been built for the emporer Hadrian (same one as the wall in England) why, therefore, would they choose to restore the Greek inscription and not the Latin? In any event we exlpored the Hippodrome and made a note to visit the chariot race that supposedly would take place later that day. We checked out the visitor center and decided to eat at the nearby tourist trap restraunt. Laura and I weren't really feeling the lunch mood though and decided to set off immediately. The reconstruction once we had actually entered the protected area was easier to identify and had occasional plaques that solved some of my questions, however it was difficult to figure out why, for example, were the columns in the oval plaza doric and the columns on the connecting streets all corinthian, yet had the same base. Why is the oval plaza offset? Was it built around neighboring buildings? Why is the monument in the middle off center? Why do the columns on the street match the columns on the temples? What is going on here?!?!
I eventually got over it and decided to enjoy.
Laura and I were summoned to the south amphitheater by the sound of bagpipes. The Jordanian gaurds were there in their green trenchjackets and dishdashas and red kuffiyehs. They played the standard British war marches (Yankee Doodle among them?) and entertained the throng of Korean tourists that went through. Laura and I climbed up to the top enjoying the bagpipes but enjoying the architecture more. As impressive as sitting at the top of the amphitheater looking down into it is, looking out onto the rest of Jerash was not so much as amphitheaters are pretty much carved into a hillside, so we were at most 20 feet above the nearest ground, but down into the amphitheater was a very sharp descent with no gaurdrails. At the bottom we collapsed in the bit of shade afforded by the seats and I heard a whisper in my ear. Around the bottom ring looking from the stage, not the proscenium behind it but the actual stage, were a number of depressions. Looking over I was the Jordanian gaurd whispering into one about 30 feet away. I could hear "hello, welcome to jordan" crystal clear. Those amazing Greeks.
After exploring the Temple of Zeus and seeing a French archeologist hard at work, we took the road less traveled to what could've either been baths or a church. It was beautiful to see the yellow flowers growing up through the cracks in the huge paving stones framed with columns without a roof, except the bluest sky ever. There were so many paths and nooks and crannies that we pretty much crawled over every wall we could. That's how we found the north amphitheater. It was less crowded than the other but smaller, with a new restored floor of colored stone. We knew this because we found ourselves on top of the proscenium wall, the backdrop if you were watching from the seats. There was about 5 feet of solid rock and then a drop of 30 feet on either side. There were a couple of soldiers hanging out in the seats and they told us jokingly not to fall, I said that I'd try and we exchanged pleasant words. Due to the amazing acoustics we could hear each other at speaking volume from 70 feet apart. Laura said that in Europe we would've been shot for touching the ruins (I'm exagerating a bit, but if anyone wants to get a hands on experience of Ancient Rome, come to Jordan, where no one cares if you scale a temple using nothing but your fingernails) We eventually made it to the actual seats by taversing the corner and squeezing past a wall Matrix style. This amphitheater was smaller but I liked it more due to the corridor behind the seats which had a soaring arched ceiling 30 feet overhead and a staircase to lead to the seats stadium style. It was about 15 degrees cooler in there and there were a few windows so it was well lit, but shady. Then there was the baths where we found a crumbling dome overhead with yellow flowers crowning and a few abandoned pairs of pants.
After deciding that it would not be worth it to wait for the others and try to amuse ourselves exploring the ruins, so we went into Jerash proper in search of schwarma and shisha. The population was less westernized for the most part, there were far more untrimmed beards and wide hijab indicating more religious piety and though I never felt unsafe, I doubt I would've after dark. This was more due to the fact that I could imagine the resentment held towards tourists, not necessarily Christians or Jews or Americans. The schwarma person patiently dealt with my attempts to order through him but eventually I ended up with a very large, extremely delicious chicken schwarma. It was easily the best schwarma I could imagine and I didn't feel a thing as I walked past the chickens in their cages along the Suq.
The way back to Amman was a bit more dignified and we got dropped off at the door. One of the happier additions to my life recently has been Arabic Coffee ground fresh with cardamom and brewed in the traditional manner. I drank an entire pot and stayed awake for the next few hours manically doing homework and contemplating the excellence of my life.