Petra has been my dream since I was a wee girl. In my mind, it was a dreamy place with eerie beauty, secret kingdom inside rocks. Later, I sat hours and hours in the university lecture halls, listening professors and archaeologists (one of whom even looked like Indiana Jones, and to whom all the girls had a hidden crush) telling about the wonders of Petra. And now, finally FINALLY I have seen it with my own eyes.
I must admit that I was scared to go in there. I expected so much, and usually when you have high expectations you might disappoint bitterly. I knew it was a highly touristic place with a lot of locals trying to sell stuff, but I tried to keep my humor. As Lonely Planet even reminded: the Bedouins have lived in the area for centuries and have their right to be in there. After all, despite the tourist masses and sellers, I managed to see the place without all of them, with my inner eyes.
In the Siq, the narrow magical gateway, a local guide played from his cell phone the theme of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (which has been partly filmed in Petra). The tune echoed from the rocks around us, and it was actually rather funny. And when I saw the Treasury opening from the Siq, I even had tears in my eyes. (A photo of Treasury is in maikulian.com)
I don’t even try to describe how it all looked like. I simply don’t have words for that. I will upload some photos later, but as even TE Lawrence wrote home in 1914: “You will never know what Petra is like, unless you come out here… Only be assured that till you have seen it you have not had the glimmering of an idea how beautiful a place can be.”
One of the best descriptions, however, is made by an Italian chef called Giorgio, who worked for the Victorian era English poet and painter Edward Lear while he traveled in Middle East. “Oh, Signore, we have come into a world where everything is chocolate, ham, curry-powder and salmon”, Giorgio remarked. Can you say it better?
We had bought two days tickets (for 26 euros per piece, not cheap in there!) which was truly needed. The area is huge, and I wanted to see it in my own pace – well, I could have spend there weeks I guess. Good idea is also to rent a donkey from the Bedouin boys, but you have to bargain hard.
We made friends with one of the boys, Muhammad, 13. He had his own donkey business with two well kept beauties. Impressively, he goes to school in the mornings but spends his afternoons and evenings renting donkeys to tourists. The money he gets, he said, goes to his mum to help the family of six siblings, and actually he has two mums, as many Bedouin families have. Muhammad had a laugh when I teased him if he is going to rent his donkey to the Jordanian king who was due to visit the site same night. “No, the king has a car”, he replied. “But why he couldn’t have a donkey?” I insisted. Muhammad rolled his eyes: “Because he is the KING!”
Muhammad and his donkey Jackass
Because the king came, we were kicked out the site at 5.30 PM. Which was probably good, since I was exhausted, and ended up to be fully asleep at 9 o’clock. We had been planning to get up next day early to see the sunrise in Petra, but just couldn’t get up. I felt like dying, only my will-power to see more got me to move. I couldn’t understand why I felt so tired. All my muscles, joints and bones hurt.
In the entrance, we surprisingly met a Finnish tourist group. We had a nice chat with some of them, they were on a day trip from Eilat, Israel, and the first tour group in the area since the second Intifada started.
While I was letting my inner archaeologist out in the Urn tomb, Sasi was waiting down and had company. A teenage Bedouin girl obviously had quite an interest on him, since he looked like a hugely popular soap opera star, or so the girl claimed. Interesting enough, the Bedouins seem to have all the modern luxuries like satellite TV’s. The girl liked Sasi’s green eyes so much that I almost could see her eyes as shape of hearts, and I teased Sasi the rest of the day about that.
One of the highlights of my Petra visit was the church where archeologist had find carbonated papyri archives, and which the Finnish archaeological team had researched since the end of 1990s. Was nice to see the place which I had studied years ago.
Then we decided to get up to the Monastery. The state I was, I knew that I couldn’t climb up the 800 steps, so I rented a donkey to get me up. Easier said than done. The furry creature clippety-clopped up the steep steep stairs, his hoofs just next to the gorge. At the moments, I had to close my eyes and just trust that he wont slip. I have a huge respect now on these animals, and refuse to use the word donkey in the meaning of a stupid person anymore!
As I waited Sasi to climb up, I had a chat with a Bedouin girl. I asked if she was married. “I am 18!” she snapped to me. “I want to keep my freedom, I don’t want to get married yet!” When I said I don’t have kids yet, she agreed: “No need to make babies young. Better to live first.” It seems to me that Bedouin girls might have more freedoms than Arab girls usually. At least I hope so.
Up in the Monastery we had yet another talk with a young Bedouin guy who introduced himself as “Caveman”. He lived up there in a cave, and also accommodates tourists in there (21 euros per night per person, I recommend). He also thought its pointless to get married young. “There are plenty of girls, both local and foreign, to have fun with”, this handsome guy claimed. He said he liked to live in there, because life is free. Freedom, it seems, is highly important for Bedouins even in the modern world. I understand completely, since what else we backpackers are than a sort of Bedouins.
Oh, by the way, there is a plan of another American movie to be filmed in Petra. There was a movie crew taking notes and measures of the Monastery, but they couldn’t tell us which movie it will be, because “we would end up in prison if we would tell and violate the contract”. Anyhow, it has to be something big since the king himself had invited them as his guest and sent his helicopter to pick them up.
We spent so much time with the Bedouins up there that it was almost dark when we were down in the valley. Everyone else had left already, and Petra was all ours in the light of rising moon. Once in a lifetime experiences. Well, it almost turned to a nightmare when we entered the Siq which was pit-dark already. I had my small head-light, but other than that, it was dark dark place, except the few occasions when the moonlight reached the bottom of the gorge. It was like walking underworld, quiet, dark and spooky.
Sasi in the Underworld
When we finally get through the Sig and up the hill to the entrance, I was so relieved I almost cried. Not that I was so scared but the fact that I have probably never in my life been so physically tired. Back in the hotel, we got the explanation: I had almost 39C fever. It continued for 3 days, and we never quite find out why. I think it was simply my body saying: enough walking in the ruins, tens of kilometers per day. As Sasi had prognosed before: “Your love of history will kill us one day”. Well, it almost did. But it was all worth it!!
Maiku, still alive
