In her third blog Ruth shares her final thoughts of Jordan as she prepares to start her second term in France.
As someone with a tendancy to inwardly roll my eyes when people start regaling a group with tales of gap years and self-discovery, I am hesitant to say my year abroad has profoundly affected me. As a life long introvert, the prospect of leaving my comfort zone (my house) and flying half way across the world to live a new life made me extremely anxious but in fact, I do feel I have grown massively in self confidence. So, as the end of term (and consequently my time in Jordan) drew near I found myself wanting to push the boundaries of where my new found confidence could take me. The answer; two weeks solo travelling through Lebanon, Palestine and Israel.
My first stop was the rather rainy but rather beautiful Beirut. Here, colonial grandeur interweaves houses riddled with unfixed bullet holes, perhaps symbolic of the unresolved tension simmering beneath the surface of Lebanese society. Whilst Beirut has museums and art galleries galore and Byblos and Baalbek have archaeological sites bearing witness to the centuries of history and countless civilisations that have passed through this land, the real highlight of my time in Lebanon was getting out of the cities and to Qadisha Valley. The most spectacular bus journey I have ever experienced took me along the valley’s south side with views across the gorge itself over to the iconic orange roofs and picturesque Maronite churches on the far side. Having spoken to fellow travellers I had been somewhat prepared for the beauty of the ride, however, I had been less prepared to spend part of the journey proof reading the English of a 60 year old man’s online dating profile! From the village of Bcharré, (3,088 metres above sea level) I descended into the valley. Nestled within the steep sides of the gorge are some of the first Christian monasteries of the Middle East. It is easy to see why this isolated, inhospitable yet simultaneously beautiful location would be the perfect place to spend a life of contemplation. I spent the day hiking through the valley, past some eerily abandoned summer-time restaurants to several of the monasteries seeing only one other person the entire day. I can’t recommend Lebanon enough, especially escaping the tourist trail, if you want to get a real feel of the Middle East. I’ve never believed in love at first sight but the instant excitement that I felt stepping off the bus in Jerusalem was incredible.I can’t put my finger on what it but there is something about this city that makes me buzz. I reckon the cacophony of market sellers trying to attract your attention to their brightly coloured spices, the smell of freshly cooked Kanafeh, Falafel and Jahnun, the 2000 years of history that have walked the same streets as you are currently walking, the deep religious significance of the city to Islam, Judaism and Christianity and the humbling architecture, contributed to the fact that each day in Jerusalem offered something new and different to what I had found the day before. Despite being the perfect location for me to explore Bethlehem, Jericho, Masada and Eilat, the highlights of trip all revolved around Jerusalem. Walking the Via Dolorosa with some 200 other people while the Franciscan Monks read the Stations of the cross brought me so much joy. As did watching the hundreds of people praying at the Wailing walls, irrespective of the time of day. But while historic places like this are wonderful in themselves, my favourite thing was watching the local people interact with their environment. Whilst the Dome on the Rock, built over Foundation rock (the original stone from where God built the Earth and also the rock from which the Prophet Mohamed ascended) attracts some one million visitors per year and is renowned for its religious and architectural significance, for the Palestinian kids playing football in its shadow, it is merely their back garden. This region has my heart. It’s been an unforgettable five months and while I look forward to the adventures that await me in France, I’ll always be counting down the time till I can come back.
By: Ruth Wynn
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