Life at the Dead Sea

Day 32

This trip is a few weeks old, but I made one of my first outings from Irbid down south of Amman to the Dead Sea for a little R&R. The trip down, after an evening with the ex-pats in Amman, was (as always) piecemeal and convoluted but a day in the warm sun and cool salty water was worth all the trouble (also as always).

I spent Friday evening relaxing on a rooftop in the Jebel Weibdeh and rounded out the night with a true hamburger at Amman Fudruckers and desert at the new trendy cupcake shop Sugar Daddies (opposite Mecca Mall). Company was good: an eclectic group of UNDP staff (Argentine, German, Indian?, etc.) and a few fellow Fulbrighters and friends. The owner of Sugar Daddies is fresh out of culinary school in NYC and is FABULOUS in every sense of the word. His small shop is set up like a warm and welcoming living room, but we decided to forgo the comfy couches for a table on the terrace, where several in the group could chain-smoke and we could be regaled by the owner's witty stories including his attempts to deliver a hand-made cake on the Queen's bday.

But the Dead Sea = lowest point on Earth and high point of the trip. Yes, I just said that. The private beaches at the swanky hotels and spa facilities may be fine for some, but I am forever conscious of the student budget and tried Amman public beach on for size. It was remarkably empty of patrons on this particular Friday (related to being in the middle of Ramadan) so I picked out a nice spot under a palm tree and sunned myself, looking out over the sparkling sea to the high bluffs on the Israeli bank in the distance.

The Sea is also the saltiest body of water around (hence the name) and to my delight, the words of all the tour books rang true: everybody floats. In fact you can't really get more than chest deep before your legs want to pop up from under you and render you a piece of drift wood at the mercy of the gentle tide. Just don't go in with any cuts on your body or swallow a drop of the water. You will know if you do. Floating out on the water, it's like nature herself is demanding you to take a load off and contemplate your surroundings (physical, mental, etc.).

Returning to shore leaves you with a layer of oily brine covering head to toe, but before the advisable fresh water shower shore-side, I decided to indulge in the recommended Dead Sea mud treatment (self-administered from pools of the black stuff collecting at the break water). My full body immersion in the cool mud, after drying in the sun and scrubbing it off tediously, left my skin tingly and soft and left my Facebook picture with a lot of bizarre reactions: oil tanker disaster, black facing-it in the MidEast, and others...

My fellow beach-goers included the usual two really old, really pale German men in speedos and a group of Americans on a study abroad stint from a language school in Cali. After an expensive mid-day buffet at the beachside touristy trap of a restaurant, I caught up with the yanks and finegeled my way on to their U of Jordan charter bus for an easy and free ride back to the capital. The students were a nice group of guys and gals, and I spent the return trip making Fusha conversation practice with them and some less formal small talk with the friendly driver from Karak.

It took 2 showers to get off the remainder of the salt back in Irbid but the experience has more staying power. And my skin hasn't felt better, thanks for asking.