It's a Holiday for a Hanging

After a long rainy week in Amman, I decided to take a trip on Sunday.  Sunday is a work day here, so all of my gainfully employed friends couldn't come along, so I went alone.  I decided on Makawir as my destination.  Makawir (Machaerus in Latin) was the site of Herod the Great's pleasure palace on the eastern shore of the Dead Sea.  Many believe that this was where Salome danced for King Herod, where Salome's mother Herodias tricked him into executing John the Baptist (Yahya ibn Zakariyya to Muslims, Yohanna al-Ma'madan to Chaldeans).  What follows is one of the better stories in the Bible:

On his birthday, Herod gave a banquet for his high officials and military commanders and the leading men of Galilee.  When the daughter of Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and the dinner guests.

The king said to the girl, "Ask me for anything you want, and I'll give it to you."  And he promised her with an oath.  "Whatever you ask I will give you, up to half my kingdom."

She went out and said to her mother, "What shall I ask for?" "The head of John the Baptist," she answered.

At once the girl hurried in to the king with the request: "I want you to give me right now the head of John the Baptist on a platter."

Mark 6:21-25

Getting to Makawir was no small feat.  Buses don't go all the way to the site, so I took a bus to Madaba, about 15 km to the north, then hitch-hiked down.  The first ride I got was with a guy who was either a baker or bread-enthusiast.  In any case, his truck smelled really good.  I tried to pay him, but he wouldn't have it.  He took me to his house, and showed me the road that I had to keep walking.

I didn't see anyone around, so I sang songs for the hour I was walking on this road.

I walked for another hour, passing on a ride with a dozen sheep in a shepherd's truck.  Eventually, I got another ride.  An old man who was just excited that someone had come to his town took me to about 2km away from the site.  From there, I hiked with the top of the mountain peaking over the hills.  The thing about hiking in mountains next to the Dead Sea is that because the drop is so far, every hill you climb is topped by blue sky or grey clouds.  It's an incredible feeling.

Coming to the top of a hill close to the site

Herod's Palace - Machaerus

[If you're trying to be a legitimate king, why do you live in a hollowed-out volcano like a supervillian?]

When I got to the mountain, it was just me and the birds.  As I sat on the western edge of the ruins, looking out over the Dead Sea to Jerusalem, the Holy Land kind of hit me.  While I fell off the religion wagon a pretty long time ago, these sites still have incredible significance to me.  With winds whipping over the site and small black birds flying overhead, I realized that I'm going to miss Jordan when I leave.  While I've had my ups and downs during my time here, Jordan is a beautiful country with a long history.  I am lucky that I stayed here long enough to visit the backwaters and market towns on top of seeing the famous sites in Petra, Jerash, and Amman.

After my moment of reflection, I was back to a rigorous schedule of galavanting.  In the middle of the triclinium was a large hole that at one time was under excavation, but the funding for this dig was obviously not there to continue this project.  I debated whether or not to climb into this hole, and I thanked Ol' Tom Watson for the opportunity to ponder this question.

Yes, it's a ladder into a hole.

While my friends are making big decisions about life, jobs, relationships, and other VERY IMPORTANT THINGS, my most difficult decision in a long time boiled down to: "Should I climb into this hole?"  While my heart said yes, when the top rung of the ladder cracked under my foot, my bowels said no.  I didn't have any rope, and there was no one to hear me scream, so I saved my energy for the caves in the surrounding hills.  It's likely that one of these caves was the prison that held John before his execution and was the probable site of the beheading.  I dutifully pulled out my headlamp and climbed in.  However, no bloodstains or Baptist-shaped chalk outlines were extant.

Having spent four hours traveling to Makawir and three hours exploring the site, I began the trek home, exhausted.  The traffic in late afternoon is practically non-existent, so when faced with the choice between hitch-hiking after dark in the middle of nowhere and riding with the sheep, I chose sheep.  This had good and bad consequences.  Thankfully, I made it back to Amman in just over two hours, in time to visit with Fr. Raymond and go to mass at the Chaldean Church in Jabal al-Webdeh before he goes to America for a month.  On the other hand, I smelled like sheep.  In a major way.

Also, unbeknownst to me, Fr. Raymond's early departure meant that I was being honored at this mass instead of when I actually leave.  So at the end of the mass, while he's speaking to the congregation about the English program and my service (yadda yadda yadda) and all my students are smiling at me and coming over to shake my hand, I'm frantically trying to remove the visible dirt from my hands and face.

After pleasantries and gifts, I refused a few dinner invitations and went home for the most glorious shower I've ever experienced.  Al-hamdulilah.  Thanks be to God, indeed.