Crossing the River Jordan

Okay, so I didn't cross the river (Israeli/Jordanian border) mostly because I didn't want to get shot. That would be a real downer while on holiday. However, I did venture down to the river Jordan and Jesus' baptismal site.

I would like to say the baptismal site was a peaceful and spiritual place; however, I would be fibbing a little. The whole time we were there, we were surrounding by thick black clouds of flies. They landed on my mouth, tried to crawl up my nose, and rested on my outer ear canal. Icky icky ick. (To be honest, the only scriptures I could bring to mind where those about the plagues of Egypt.) Plus, we were constantly followed around by a dude toting a machine gun, which kind of detracted from the potential of a "zen" experience.

On the whole, the visit was pretty interesting, as I was able to find out a few things firsthand. For example, the river is not really a river. It's about the size of the small creek that runs in the back of my neighborhood. The part we could "swim" in was only about waist deep and about ten foot wide. I think it was a lot wider back in the time of Jesus.

After our stop at the River Jordan, we headed off to the Dead Sea. Let me preface this by saying that I'm usually pretty buoyant in water. If I was on a sinking ship, I could give my life jacket away and still be okay. (I think my buoyancy probably has something to do with my fondness for ice cream. The more I eat of the stuff, the better I seem to float. So my fatty bits aren't really flaws, they are just part of the essential survival toolkit.) Anyway, swimming in the Dead Sea was totally insane. I could practically walk on the water. I floated even when I was perpendicular to the water. It made me feel like a giant fishing bobbin, albeit a white and pasty one.

Adam told us to avoid getting water in our mouth at all costs because it really burned. Naturally I listened intently to his words of wisdom, ignored them completely, and stuck my tongue out to taste the water. My curiosity was rewarded with a very intense and very unpleasant burning sensation, and I felt as if I had swallowed a mouthful of chemicals. So if you're going to the Dead Sea, don't taste the water. I'm being fo' real here.

So we slathered ourselves in Dead Sea mud, made stupid faces at the camera and generally had ourselves a good time. Though we had a blast, I could not recommend Jordan to anyone that is really squeamish about guns. While driving along the Dead Sea, we passed through four military checkpoints, complete with tanks, machine guns, and grenade launchers. All very safe of course, but a far cry from what I am used to in the states.

That night we drove along the King's Highway and took in the breathtakingly beautiful scenery as we headed for our rough camp. A few visitors stopped by as we ate dinner and finally we hopped off to bed. Okay, maybe I didn't hop off to bed. I slept on the top of the truck, so I treaded my way carefully to bed, where I planted myself firmly on top of the truck. I was playing the role of Queen Cautious because I didn't think it would be very pleasant to roll off the truck in the middle of the night and drop fifteen feet to the ground.

Since we were in the middle of nowhere and away from city lights, we could see the stars--even the Milky Way--perfectly. I saw so many shooting stars, I lost count. I stayed awake for a long time, because I didn't really need to sleep. I was already dreaming with my eyes wide open.