My Jordanian Expedition

The day began rather ominously with a slight disagreement with my traveling companion, Yaser, who had been my trusted tour guide and landlord for the duration of my stay at the Daheisheh Refugee Camp for the last two-and-a-half months. My limited Arabic and his broken English notwithstanding, we'd struck up a deep friendship within a week of meeting.
A PhD student at the University of Jordan, Yaser split his time between his studies in Amman, Jordan and his family and home back in Bethlehem.
Yaser and I were reunited in Amman for a long-planned trip to see the Roman-era relic site of Petra, a world renowned tourist attraction, the Dead Sea and the beach-side city of Aqabah in far-flung southern Jordan.
On the morning of, Yaser favored postponement for a day. I demurred. I was on a schedule. My time in Jordan was limited and I had to make the most of it. After tepid defense of his proposal, he relented.
"Sheriff, I go with you to the death, habibi." I've found this ubiquitous Arabic word for "beloved" most disarming. On this occasion, when my friend tied to a pledge for unfailing loyalty and friendship, it became a moment etched in eternal memory for me.
And so we set out, in a rental sedan. The first part of the day was spent exploring the ruins of an ancient city carved out of rocks. The historical and archaeological city of Petra is the most visited tourist attraction in the country. It seemed every bit like it on this scorching day. We made our way through a mélange of foreign tourists, horse-drawn carts, camel riders, tour guides and petty entrepreneurs peddling all sorts of souvenirs. I was wowed by a local Jordanian teenage girl, a postcard seller, who spoke perfect British-accented English, learnt in the rocky hallways of the old city where she plied her trade.
When Yaser fought with a local horseman over inflated pricing, he ended it with a parting "yasalamak" -- "Peace onto you" -- which instantly diffused a tense dispute and disarmed the other party. The power of a word!
The Gulf of Aqaba, which is an hour south of Petra, was our next stop, after several exhausting hours of hiking the rocky terrains of the ancient city. We arrived as night fell. The city is well-lit and boisterous, befitting its touristy vibe.
Dinner, shower and hours of seaside hookah-puffing followed. When bedtime finally came, sleep didn't. The bugs-infested motel room made for impossible eye-shut. Yaser and I ended up spending the rest of the night in the car.