I heard my name being called on the busy road outside our hotel in Aqaba, Jordan. Turning, I saw a friend I had taught with in a school in the Marshall Islands. She is now teaching in Saudi Arabia and was traveling over spring break. Not so much of a coincidence if you think about it. Aqaba is certainly a meeting point. It lies just 5 km from the border of Israel, the Egyptian coast is clearly visible across the water, and the Saudi border is only a 20 km drive south. Being on the water, cruise ships stop here and unload tourists wanting to visit Petra. The airport brings other tourists, who stay at five star resorts and take advantage of the great diving in the area.
Even though Petra is a more popular destination, Aqaba offers much more for western visitors. From the resorts, to the travel agents, to the variety of restaurants, my first impression was that I could easily enjoy all the city had to offer and relax on my last day of vacation.
However, I found that here worlds collide rather than meet. Our first glimpse of this juxtaposition was at breakfast in the restaurant below the hotel. The place was full, every table taken, but not with foreigners. After finding a table in the back, I avoided the coffee and local bean soup, but found plenty of olives and yogurt to fill my plate. When in Jordan... It shouldn't matter that the hotel didn't cater for western breakfast tastes.
The hotel was able to direct us to a "very nice" beach just 20 km out of town. We drove down the coast looking for it, but found nothing before being stopped by guards at the border. Although we were so close to three other countries, I doubt whether we would have been allowed to drive into any of them. They are anything but "open" borders. We tried to ask the guard where the beach was we were looking for, but he didn't speak English. Driving back we found a sign to public beach #4. Thinking that one beach was as good as another, we parked and got out. This was definitely not a beach for westerners. No one wore a swim suit or an uncovered head. School children paddled in the waves in their uniforms, and older ladies handed out food for a picnic. We felt out of place, and left.
Behind a fence we found a club that charged us $15 dollars for the use of their pools and beach. The place was landscaped with palm trees, cabanas and bright flowers. We recognized the music and the drinks by the pool. This private beach was made to keep us from mixing with the locals. We didn't complain, but lay on our chairs by the pool and let the waiters take our order.
An Arab family showed up and sat near us. The mother never moved from the shade of the beach umbrella. None of the children had swim suits, and the little boys stripped down to their underwear. They wanted to use the pool, but a guard came by to tell them they couldn't. I'm sure they felt the same way my family had on the other side of the fence.
The Italian, Chinese and American BBQ restaurants are also there to keep foreigners happy and separate from the local Arabs. We were excited to find a Brazilian Steak House not far from the hotel, and thought it would be an appropriate place for Ben's Birthday celebration. The place was empty and the waiters spoke no English, but that didn't deter us. The menu promised an authentic Brazilian all-you-can-eat churrasco. The salad bar was a bit of a disappointment, mainly hummus and olives, but we still expected some side dishes of beans and rice to be delivered to our table. When Ben attempted to order a "Guarana" we realized we were not going to experience anything vaguely Brazilian. Spits of meat were brought round, and ceremoniously placed on our plates. The first piece was a steak the size of my whole plate. It was very good, but more than I could eat for a starter. After a while the meat stopped coming, and we waited for desert. Nothing happened so Jon asked for coffee. The waiter misunderstood and brought the bill. Apparently even coffee was off the menu that night.
Each restaurant, hotel, club, resort, tour and cruise is careful to cater for either westerners or middle easterners, not both. This must be
because our tastes are so different, and not because we feel awkward in each other's culture...or probably for both reasons.
In other parts of Jordan the local culture was put on display for my pleasure, to exploit my interest in the new and different. They pose, I photograph, learn and promote the tourist business. But here in Aqaba, the meeting point of different worlds, the business of promoting culture was taking a back seat to the business of providing comfort, and the pleasure of the familiar.
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