The journey from Jerusalem Israel to Amman Jordan as ignorant tourists during the war.
God is good all the time, and all the time God is good.
And So It Begins
It's 7:00am. That's less than 5 hours of sleep. DD is awake already, I don’t think she slept much at all. Eyes wide open, awake and worried. Just laying in bed. I think I have terrified her: having packed before bed for a night time flight, keeping the lights on most of the night as I looked for flights. It makes sense that she couldn't sleep. So much uncertainty, so much panic. She doesn't seem ready for more bad news, but I need to tell her.
“I failed. We have to stay here for another week.” It is Tuesday morning, three days after Hamas invaded Israel. We were supposed to leave from Tel Aviv on Friday. Now we don't leave until next Tuesday, and even that is only if the airport is still open. The panic set in, DD got up and started pacing. She grabbed the french fries and tried to eat while shaking. “Let’s go get breakfast” she said.
New Friends at Breakfast
This morning they have a baked cinnamon roll casserole, the egg lasagna isn't there like usual, but the pan is there I bet it's coming soon. I found DD sitting in a different seat than our usual table. She was sitting at a larger table where the tour group who is staying at our hotel usually sits. She was feeling terribly alone and was hoping that someone would reach out. After praying for our food a woman from the Netherlands immediately said “Are you Christians too?” That brought a flood of comfort to DD’s heart. Our new friend asked to join us and took the seat next to DD. Her husband sat in the chair next to me. We shared pleasantries as we asked about families and jobs but in the middle of our conversation DD started to cry. As she wiped her tears in a napkin our new Netherland friend put her arm around her and said “God is with you, you’ll see your children and hold them again.” After a paus DD replied with a slight laugh “…and never let go.” God is so good to bring us comfort through this couple.
After a quiet moment in the conversation our new friends confided in us: “We are in a tough spot, my family wants us to travel to Tel Aviv and try to get on a flight out. But our tour guide says that we must stay: that it is safer as a group in Jerusalem. My brother is with Marriott hotels and can get us a room but we only have half an hour to decide.” They had been in an argument with their tour guide. “Do you want to come with us to Tel Aviv?” she asked. Rockets have hit inside Tel Aviv airport already, I'm not sure its safe there but it is the only international airport in the country. This might be our chance to not be alone, but it's definitely risky. We looked up which flight were actually departing from Tel Aviv (a lot were being cancelled). While looking we saw Poland has sent the Air Force to extract their people. She exclaimed “That’s the problem with us modern countries we just talk, talk, talk, talk about everything until it is too late to actually do anything! The other countries just act and get their people out.”
I had already spent many hours trying to get flights without success. And seeing there weren't many commercial flights we had a shot at getting on I replied. "We're safer in Jerusalem than Tel Aviv. I would only travel to Tel Aviv if I already had flights first."
With a look of confusion she said. “My brother is telling me the opposite, go first, fights later.”
The tour guide then joined our table. I'm worried he'll see us as a threat to keeping his tour group together. I also think he wants to be the main voice they hear. Joining our conversation he said, "We are safe in Jerusalem, they will never come here. We need to stick together and wait."
Seeing the overconfidence in that statement I jumped in to balance it out, “Jerusalem is the safest place to be in Israel right now, but anywhere outside of Israel is even safer.”
“But you can’t get there safely, we are already in Jerusalem and can just stay here in safety as long as we like.” He responded.
The woman interjected, “But what about the prophecies? The women and children taken from Jerusalem? Matthew 24 is that still future or has that happened already?”
“That is a different question altogether. The prophecies were not written to make us scared but to give us hope.”
The conversation then switched to Dutch. After an intense interchange of words the couple left the table quickly. They were obviously upset and there was a harshness to their tone as they abruptly left the table.
Joining the Group
DD hadn’t touched her food…
“Please eat something babe, you need your energy.” I said.
She tried to eat but looked like she was on the verge of vomiting. She started crying again.
The tour guide tried to comfort her with confident statements. “Nothing can happen to you here in Jerusalem.” “We’re perfectly safe here in Jerusalem.” “This is the city of God.”
His hope was in a promise God never made and was making his own promises that could he could never guarantee. This was not helping. He kept looking at me to say something to comfort my wife. But there were no words. I reached across the table and held her hand in silence.
“Join us at 10:00 for prayer and singing down in the bomb shelter, yeah?” He said.
DD nodded through tears.
“You’re always welcome to join us. Sit with us at breakfast, walk together during the day, join us for dinner.” He continued.
DD was calming down.
“You should eat, if you don’t your children will have a bigger problem.” He said with a chuckle.
DD started taking small bites.
Back in the room we discussed joining them. I had plans to buy a SIM card and go to the embassy, if we joined the group meeting that would delay when those things could happen. But I could tell DD was feeling alone and needed people.
“Do you want to go to the group meeting?” I asked.
“Yes,” she nodded, “this is why we are a body, we need each other.” She was right, there is one church and we are all connected as a body. God was providing what we needed through his people.
We went downstairs to the -1 floor and into a room with giant steel reinforced doors, thick concrete walls, and small air ventilation tubes with steel plates over the openings. This was the hotel bomb shelter. There were about 25 people in the room already. They were all happy to see us and welcomed us enthusiastically. The couple from breakfast came down later than everyone else and smiled when they saw that we were there.
The meeting began with the leader provided updates to the group in Dutch.
The lady sitting next to us leaned over to translate for us, "The government in Holland is not sending any evacuation help."
We found out that their group had already been in Israel for three weeks and were supposed to have gone home yesterday. They needed their medicines, they needed laundry done. They will have to stay longer. Weeks? A month? Who knows? The timeline of this was sinking in, we could be stuck here for a very long time.
After the announcements we opened up a "Zangbundel" (i.e. song book) and sang worship songs in both English and Hebrew. One song was a round and the harmonies in the room were beautiful. After we finished singing we took turns praying. For our sake each person who prayed prayed in English. Then we held hands and all recited the Lord’s Prayer together each in our own language. God is so good to have given us fellowship and love even from strangers, but not as strangers, as family. As everyone was heading back to their rooms a dark skinned man from the group invited us to have coffee with him. That was so considerate of him. Normally I would have said yes, but this time I declined, I think we have to go to the U.S. Embassy for help right away.
Desperation
We need to get a better flight out of here. I had spent most of the night working with a United Airlines agent through their messenger app and couldn't get a better flight. But at the end the agent told me to call United Airlines instead and request a transfer to "TLV PSG AT ATO ONLY" whatever that means. But I have a problem, my U.S. phone cannot make phone calls here in Israel. I need to get an Israeli SIM card. But most SIM cards just get your data, not calling. And even if I purchased one with calling I still wouldn't have international calling to call the 1-800 number I was given. I guess a SIM card wont be enough, we need to go to the U.S. Embassy to use an actual phone, I'm certain they can help us make a phone call to America.
I am a bit nervous about this plan. We have been repeatedly told to call instead of going to the Embassy. A representative from CRU Crisis Management Team said "Be careful and scout out because troublers may be around the embassy." It's better to call, but we cannot call. We’ll go there. I hope they can do more than just let us use their phone, something like put us in a safe house, or arrange travel out. If they can do that we should be ready to flee the country immediately. We can bring our essentials in backpacks and abandon our luggage if needed. Now I'm questioning that logic, we'll look suspicious with bags. To be inconspicuous we'll go without any bags. Before leaving I scouted a path through the local park. I don't want to be looking at my phone as we are going.
We set off down the road and then on a walk through the park. Suddently I realized if a rocket alarm goes off we don’t have shelter. It's a risk with taking. As we're walking my eyes are constantly scanning and looking for any threats. There are only a few people in the park. There is an Arabic man wearing headphones. We made it past him okay. I lean in and whisper to DD, “Coming our way is a cat.” I nearly gave her a heart attack with that comment, she thought I was speaking of a person. As we walked around the perimeter of the park by the street I can now see the Embassy. But to get there we'll have to walk past a building and there are a few men on the corner lingering near the Embassy. I don’t want to walk past them. So we stopped walking towards them and sat down. Uh oh, now the men started walking in our direction. We turned around heading went back the direction we came and then turned into the park. On this new path a different man is walking ahead of us. We’re going to have to walk closely by him. He passed by us first and I acted as though I were continuing straight (away from the embassy) but at the last minute I turned late, surprising DD, and we then walked directly towards the Embassy. There was a guard outside the building and we approached him.
"We're United States Citizens and we need help leaving the country." I said.
He seemed confused. "Do you have an emergency?" he asked.
"I am trying to work with United to get a flight but the agent told me I needed to call the 1-800 number but I don't have a way to make an international phone call, I am hoping I can use a phone here to make the call." I responded.
I think that was more English than he was able to understand. He got another man who could understand English better. After explaining our situation to him they went inside to talk to a U.S. Commander who was stationed there. Eventually we had four different men talking with us. They don’t have a phone we can use, that would be at the other U.S. Embassy. I had gone to the Jerusalem U.S. Embassy instead of the Israel U.S. Embassy. They suggested we get a taxi to the Israel U.S. Embassy that has consular support. However that Embassy was already closed, we will have to go first thing in the morning. They couldn’t help us. But they did make a good suggestion, we should ask the hotel if we could use their phone. That should have been obvious but I hadn't thought of that, I needed someone to tell me to try the hotel. God is so good, the trip here wasn't a waste.
As we began the walk back to the hotel DD started going back the way we came. “Let’s go left,” I said, “never go back the way you came, someone could wait for you to return if they saw you walk by.” I hope she feels safe knowing that I’m thinking through everything. But I might have just made her even more worried.
Changing Plans
Back at the hotel, we realized we're going to be in Jerusalem for a while so we paid for the dinner to join the group. 200 shekels ($50 total) for a dinner for two. Then, while in the good favor of the hotel front desk agent, I asked if I could use the phone to call United Airlines. He dialed the number for me and I was able to get on the phone! God is so good. While on hold waiting for a representative to talk with I logged into my United app on my phone and my heart sank. Our flights had been changed! I didn’t know anything changed last night. We have tickets for a flight out of Tel Aviv for 7:05am this morning! We missed our chance. We could have made it if I had booked a taxi at 2:00am to Tel Aviv. We’re stuck here and didn’t have to be, I was grieving. I don’t know why but I called DD over and showed her the shocking news. We’re exhausted. We feel defeated. And I’m sitting on hold for half an hour. While waiting I checked the status of the flight number: 7:05 flight, CANCELED. Praise the Lord! We didn’t miss anything after all! In fact, we would be much worse off if we were stuck in Tel Aviv. What a roller coaster of emotions. The phone call was taking a long time, and the hotel guy said “I need my phone back, we only have one phone at the hotel.” I apologized, told him I would be done soon and slid 50 shekels across the table. He didn’t touch the money but he did make eye contact with an understanding look. Finally the United agent got on the phone and he rebooked us for one week away out of Tel Aviv to Frankfurt, DE with Luftwein Airlines. At least we now have a ticket out of Tel Aviv that is not an American plane. But an entire week away? With all the cancelations and the war escalating it is a long shot that even this plane will be flying. We’re stuck in Jerusalem for at least another week, probably more. I feel defeated: I have run out of ideas and options, I have tried everything I can think of, and I can't get us out of here.
I updated everyone that we will be stuck In Israel at least another week. Compass, the tour company, wants to send us to our Tel Aviv hotel tomorrow but I don't feel comfortable with that. Rockets have actually hit within the Tel Aviv airport, Jerusalem is safer. At my request they changed our hotel to remain in Jerusalem till Friday (our original tour end date). We will have to book at our own cost after that. We need to settle in for the long haul. It's almost 2:00pm now and we haven't eaten yet, we should probably grab some lunch and I should purchase an Israeli SIM card, we're going to be in Israel for a while.
“The border is open!” DD exclaimed. She had just gotten a message from Jamie Thompson.
“What?” I asked.
“They saw tourists from Israel in Jordan who came through the border.” My heart is pounding, we can get out? We got on a call with Jamie, the battery on her phone is dying we don't have much time to get this information. She put her friend Joel on the phone to give us directions. We’ll have to get a taxi to the northern border crossing near Beit She'an. But if we can do that, the border is open. I took notes furiously as Joel explained where to go and what to do (his voice sounds familiar, I think he’s the guy in Jesus vs Joseph Smith, later I found out he's this guy: youtube.com/@ExpeditionBible). Here are the notes I jotted down:
Northern border crossing at Bet Shaun into Jordan.
Then take a taxi (little building in the left) come to Iman Geneva Hotel. Check to make sure it is still open. And what time it closes.It's go time! Let's flee the country. We have hope again, God is so good.
I reached out to Jeffery at Compass asking him to book us a taxi to the border. And then we waited. I looked it up, they close the border at 8pm, they stop processing new arrivals at 6:30pm, it’s 2:00pm now and it is a 2 hour drive to get there. We’re running out of time. We counted our money 1,140 shekels ($290). I ate the other half of yesterdays sandwich. DD had some fries. Half an hour goes by, no word from Jeffery. So I called him. He picked up, and told me he cannot find a ride. I asked him if I should see if the hotel can book a taxi for us and he said I could do that. At the desk I asked about getting a taxi to Beit She'an.
“You want the taxi to drive all the way to Beit She'an?” The desk agent asks me.
“I want the border crossing near Beit She'an.” I reply.
There seems to be some confusion. I'm guessing that Beit She'an must be in Jordan and the taxi can't go there since he's surprised I'm asking to go there. Hearing our confusion the tour guide for the other group comes over to help out. The two of them converse briefly in Hebrew.
“You want the Allenby crossing.” The tour guide says definitively.
“Yes, if that is the name of the crossing on the way to Beit She'an.” I replied.
He nods and we all agree.
The guy at the desk made a few calls. “500 shekels in cash, half an hour.”
We have a little over 1,000 shekels left so this should be enough for the taxi on this side and the Jordan side. We didn't bring a debit card with us so we cannot get more money from an ATM. Pro, tip, have a Debit card with you when you travel for emergency cash if needed. We’re excited! We’re leaving Israel.
Fifteen minutes later we are all packed up and downstairs and the taxi is already here. We say goodbye to our new friends and DD explains to them that we’re going to Jordan as I help load up our luggage. The hotel guy calls us in to check out.
“Didn’t you just extend your stay to Friday?” He asked. Less than an hour ago I had asked Jeffery at Compass to extend our stay in Jerusalem.
“Yes.” I reply.
“So now I need to cancel those rooms?” He's worried about losing the money.
“Yes, and also we won’t be eating the dinner here tonight.” He's seeing all that money slip away.
“You already paid with Visa?” He replies. I don't see how that matters.
“Yes.” I reply again.
“I cannot refund Visa.” Hah, that’s a lie. But he helped us get the taxi we might as well let him keep it as a thank you. I didn’t argue the point.
"Okay." I say and we head out to the car.
Double Take
The taxi driver is friendly, as we're riding along he is giving us a quick commentary tour of Jerusalem as we passed by. We drove through a tunnel that went under the mount of Olives. I got chills thinking that I was directly beneath where Jesus stood.
In 45 minutes we were at the border. This feels wrong, that wasn’t 2 hours. And what's worse, the border is closed. He said they open tomorrow at 8:00am, I guess we have to head back to Jerusalem and do this all again tomorrow. Our hearts sank. We started back to the hotel. Our driver continued explaining to us “Usually both that crossing and Beit She'an are open until 8-o’clock.” My ears perked up when he said that, he didn’t take us to Beit She'an.
“Can you take us there?” I ask.
“What?” He replies somewhat surprised.
“Can we go to Beit She'an?” I clarify.
“Beit She'an is 100 kilometers away it would take a long time and there is a checkpoint on the way.” He responds. It is clear he does not want to go. But it also isn't a definite "no."
“How much would it cost?” I ask.
He pulls over to the side of the road. “You really want to go to Beit She'an? We can come back here tomorrow and you can go through.” He argues.
“How much would Beit She'an cost?” I repeat again.
Silence. We waited. Finally he replies “500 shekel extra.”
He just doubled the cost! That’s almost everything we have. Should we do it? If it fails we'll be out of cash, if it works we'll be out of cash! I looked at DD she is worried. I am thinking furiously through the different possibilities. This moment feels like eternity sitting on the side of the road.
“Let’s do it, 500 shekels extra to Beit She'an.” I've made up my mind we're going for it.
“You sure? I do not think… what if they’re closed?” He does not want to go.
I look at DD questioningly “I trust your judgment.” She says.
I look at the driver, “Yes, Beit She'an.” I say confidently.
We pull a U-turn and a vehicle with people in uniform look at us suspiciously, I smile and wave. DD let out a nervous chuckle at the absurdity of everything. The driver isn’t happy with my decision. We sit in silence for half an hour.
“You have the cash?” He says in a last ditch effort to get out of this.
“Yes” We both say confidently in unison.
I look over at DD and her hands are contorted and pale. She is going into shock. I hold her hand as we wait. What if they’re closed? I won’t have much cash at all. What if they’re open? I don’t have enough money left to get a taxi on the other side. We sit in silence for an hour with the scenarios rolling through my mind.
Beit She'an. We are driving through the town, we’re close. Then we arrive. They border crossing is open! We can go through! Praise God! We hand over the money and thank our driver. His tone is suddenly pleasant again.
“Yes, yes, of course. Success for you is success for me! Glad to help you.” I shake his hand grab our suit cases and we head our way through security.
Crossing the Border
The Israeli border is nice and modern like an airport, high ceilings, open spaces. We bought our boarding ticket for the shuttle, showed them our paperwork for our exit visas, and headed out through a luxurious duty-free gift shop. DD had to use the bathroom but since the bus was waiting we skipped the bathroom. That was a mistake, we ended up having plenty of time. We put our luggage under the bus and then boarded. DD got on first and headed back to find a seat. All of a sudden the driver and a passenger started yelling with one another in Aramaic.
As I'm boarding the passenger then asks me “Is she with you?”
Thinking they were hitting on her I claim her saying “Yes” as I get on and follow her to our seat.
Immediately the driver gets out of his seat with his hands clenched in fists making his way down the aisle towards. I think the driver is drunk, his Arabic yelling sounds slurred and he isn't very stable. This is not good, I have no idea what is going on. The passenger who spoke to me a moment ago places his hands on the driver's shoulders, speaks to him in Arabic and the driver sits back down.
The passenger looks to me and says “5 shekels for the driver.” Oh! We were supposed to tip the driver when we got on. This is so strange, we already bought our boarding ticket for the shuttle, I thought that would have paid the workers. It's definitely a different culture.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know." I apologize, pulling out a 20 shekel bill. I walk to the front and pay for both of us. The driver reaches in the coin cup and gives me change: two 5 shekel coins. I am overwhelmed by the goodness of God. I had been wanting to bring shekel coins home to my kids instead of paper money. They didn't use paper in Bible times so a shekel coin from Israel is incredibly meaningful to me. Because all our plans had changed I never had the opportunity to do something as simple as buying a trinket to get change. In our last few minutes in the country God provides for me something so small an personal. God is so good.
After waiting for a while the bus finally drives across the Jordan River. The river is so small! I wasn't able to get my camera out in time to snap a picture. But we crossed! The Israelites crossed it, now we’ve crossed it and we are also no longer in a country that is at war. There is a relief that I am feeling. As we continue to head to Jordan I am struck by the stark contrast with where we just came from. The buildings are aging and there are hundreds of people trying to get through. Oh boy, this will take a while. We get off the bus and visit the bathroom. Remember I said it was a mistake not to stop at the bathroom earlier? Well, we ended up near the back of all of the hundreds of people in line.
It feels like we're in a third world country. I've been to Haiti before and this is reminiscent of that trip. They have people standing at the bathroom holding toilet paper and asking for tips.
There is a sign at the entrance to the immigration building that says “no luggage” but everyone seems to be disregarding that and bringing their luggage in anyways. We're right behind a Jewish family and as they enter with their stroller and luggage an Arab security guard starts yelling at the father about the sign that says no luggage. Is this racial profiling? Is this because of the stroller? I don't know but I'm uncomfortable right now. The father then starts to argue with the guard. I was getting nervous, tensions were high enough already. I had been planning on bringing our luggage in like everyone else but now I'm not sure. We are the next to enter. DD felt the tension and didn't want to come in with our luggage, we don't want to be yelled at too. So she decided to wait outside by our luggage as I went in. As a result, I entered immigration by myself as a single adult male. That flagged me for an additional security check. The guard pulled me out of line and had me go through the body scanner. It is the kind they have at airports that images what is under your clothes. He told me to empty my pockets which had me worried, I had stuffed my pockets with the ready cash we had left. I also had to take off my money belt and set everything down on a bench and turn my back to it while they scanned me. They scanned me twice but he didn't pat me down. I wonder if he was trying to read my reaction more than anything else.
I gather my things and try to find the "line" it is chaos. There are five guards all in uniform sitting in a small room with security cameras laughing. They must be the muscle if anything happens. There is one guard walking around yelling at everyone. And a lot of the employees are smoking inside the building. Everything has large lines that all bunch together. While waiting in the first line DD shows up next to me without our luggage. I am glad to have her with me. The suitcases just have our clothes in it I'm not worried that they are unattended. The lighter you travel the easier it is.
While waiting in line we are just watching everyone else trying to figure out what we are supposed to do. There is one gentleman who seems familiar to me. DD recognizes him too.
"I think that's the couple we sat next to in the Ethiopian restaurant." DD says. I see the husband but the wife isn't next to him.
"What does she look like?" I ask trying to find her.
"She's European looking with blue eyes." DD replies.
As I scan the room right next to us is a European woman with blue eyes. She doesn't look like the woman from the restaurant but I figure it would be easy enough to find out.
"Excuse me, did we have dinner with you at an Ethiopian restaurant in Jerusalem last Friday night?" I ask her.
"Jerusalem? No we weren't there." Interjects the man standing with her.
That broke the silence and we start chatting with this new couple. They are from Germany and came to Israel for the Jewish feast of Sukkot (Booths/Shelters). As we talk we discover that we are both headed to Amman. The wife looks it up on her phone. The airport is a 2 hour drive and the hotel is just 15 minutes away from there.
"We could split a cab." The husband says.
"Yeah." I reply.
Paperwork Confusion
When I finally made it to the Visa counter he asked me how long I was going to be in Jordan. For a moment a feeling of panic caused my mind and possibly my face too. We don’t have a flight out yet, so I have no idea how long we will be here. Hopefully he didn’t see that and now think I’m suspicious. I better respond quickly.
“Till Friday.” I said confidently, that was our original flight date. I think that is reasonable.
“More than 3 days?” He asked. It's exactly three days, but what does it matter? I'll let him decide.
“Till Friday.” I repeated.
“20 dinars.” He said.
I handed him an American $20.
“Dinars!” He repeated forcefully pointing to some of their paper money.
So I paid him with our Visa credit card and he gave us our Visa entry papers.
We then waited in the wrong line to check our passports, apparently U.S. citizens are diplomats. So we went back and waited again in the diplomat line. After scanning our eyes they stamped our passports for entry into Jordan. Then I went and exchanged all the money we had for dinars. It all came to 92 dinars (56+23+3+10) and I was so worried because the 2 hour drive to the border cost 1,000 shekels. How will I purchase another 2 hour drive with only 92 dinars? Perhaps if we split the cab they'll be generous enough to take all the cash we have.
There’s another line to wait in for security and customs. And EVERYONE is in this line. I ran to the bathroom quickly. The woman is still standing outside of the bathroom selling toilet paper. Do I need to pay her to use the bathroom? For water and soap too? I went in and found a porcelain hole in the ground that I peed into. I quickly left without even washing my hands because I didn’t want to be harassed for money.
It was dark by now and the line was entering a building but I’m not sure what is left to do. (I took the picture above before I entered Immigration). There were Arabs walking around the line yelling at telling us to squish together. But this didn't make sense it would still be another half an hour before we get to the building so I don’t understand the purpose of being close. I would prefer some space to be able to feel the air if there ever is a breeze. There were men standing around arguing with each other and others in uniforms walking around us. In a side room I saw a man kneeling and bowing on a carpet, but he was the only one doing that.
When we finally made it Inside the building there was an x-ray machine that every bag had to go through. There was one guy yelling at us to get us to put our bags on the scanner more quickly. What was odd though is that the guy behind the monitor wasn’t even looking at the screen. I guess they were just trying to get everyone through as quickly as possible. Our bags went through without an issue. we grabbed them and walked out of the building.
Taxi?
We made it through! Praise God! We are on the other side in Jordan no longer in a country at war! Now to see if we can make it to Amman. There are SO many people and we all have to get a taxi but there doesn’t seem to be more than a couple taxis here. Time to wait in line again. We searched around but our new German friends aren’t anywhere to be found. They must have made it through and left already without us. The line was long and I was at the very back. A Mexican man ahead of me was arranging for an entire group to Amman. They were given three taxis but would have to wait.
An older couple were headed to Amman and their taxi was already here. We asked if we could ride with them. They said “yes” but the man behind the desk wouldn’t allow it. He wanted us to pay separately. So we have to wait. I'm looking around and there isn't any other couple that we could split a cab with. I don't know how this is going to work out. After a while the Mexican group has worked out their payment and it is now our turn. I called DD into the little smoke filled building so that I could keep an eye on her while I tried to get a cab. I approached the counter but the man behind the counter doesn't look up or acknowledge my presence. He’s going through all of the prior customers and cross referencing everything with a list of driver names placing a check mark next to each one. I think he’s run out of cars, I’ll wait. So much waiting. While waiting, guess who we see walking across the parking lot? The German couple who wanted to split a taxi with us! We should be able to pay! God is so good to have kept us waiting until the right time. They had difficulty getting their money changed over which delayed them for a while. The man then finished reviewing his notes and looked up. We asked fours taxi for 4 to Amman Airport. He said “56 dinars.” Praise the Lord! We have enough money, we’ll be able to make it. So it cost $250 dollars for the 2 hour drive to the border on the Israeli side and then only $79 for the 2 hour drive from the border on the Jordan side. These are very different economies. We each paid half and then he said “one hour wait.” And that was fine with me. At least we will have a ride.
The Blessing of Waiting
So we sat with this German couple and chatted. We shared snacks and had a moment that wasn't so tense. I would love to tell everyone that we made it across the border but there isn't any Wi-Fi here. When I mentioned that I was surprised there isn't any Wi-Fi they generously turned on a Wi-Fi hotspot for us to use. They bought 120GB of Israeli data for $20, and since they were leaving Israel they wouldn’t be able to use it all. I'm so glad that we had time to do this because once we drove away from the Israeli border their data would stop working. We let our family and friends know that we were safe. God is so good.
After a while the husband comes over and says “I don’t think we got each others names, I’m ------------.” (He doesn't want his name shared.) We all laughed about not even getting names and then introduced ourselves. They aren't Jewish as I had guessed earlier. They went to Israel as German Christians to serve Jews during the feast of Sukkot to try to do something to heal the wounds of the Holocaust. They were blessed to serve the Jews this way. It has cost them so much money to get emergency flights home out of Jordan (in addition to the 700 shekels they spent to get a taxi to the border) but they believe God will give it all back to them.
While we were waiting an older Arabic woman was looking pale and her head fell backwards from weakness. DD saw this and started asking her if she was okay. So I got an apple from my bag and offered it to her she refused. But her son/grandson encouraged her to take it. At his urging she took it and ate. To be honest, I had been afraid of him, he was in his twenties and was really rich and muscular and Arabic. He was wearing white Sambas and Nike pants. But at the same time I think he was stressed, he smoke 4 cigarettes in the few hours we were in the border crossing. So I had been intentional in trying to be friendly to him. I had kept letting him have a place in front of me in line. But more than that I think the apple made a connection and blessed him. Kindness promotes peace.
Since DD and I were wanting to go to the Geneva Hotel and not all the way to the airport I decided to ask the man behind the counter if we could add a stop to the trip. He nodded asked for my name, looked up our ticket and started counting some cash. What is he doing? I thought and then it dawned on me, he thinks I want to stop our trip!
"No, no!" I exclaim nervously, "still go." I need some help communicating.
Fortunately there was someone there who could translate for us and communicated what we wanted to the man.
"Ask driver" he said. That's good enough for me.
While sitting there a taxi cab arrived, is it ours? The driver gets out of the car and starts yelling at the man behind the desk. We've been hearing a lot of yelling here in Jordan but not quite like this. The driver is livid.
"I hope that's not our driver." The German husband said. I agreed.
Yalla Yalla!
After a while I looked down at my watch. "It has been an hour." I said.
We were only supposed to wait for an hour. But then within a few minutes all of a sudden our driver was there. He was able to fit our bags in the back and we all got in the car. I had been back by the trunk while everyone else sorted out seats. DD ended up being the one who was sitting up front next to the driver. That's a mistake. I found out later that culturally the genders are supposed to be separated. If it is a male driver the women always sit in the back and if they are up front it is because there is a relationship with the driver. This is provocative.
As the taxi was leaving they asked for our passports again. Apparently they do a final check to make sure the Passports have been stamped. But the guard and the driver started talking with each other gesturing toward DD. It made me uncomfortable. But they let us through.
We started driving through the country, the difference with Israel is stark. It still feels like I’m in Haiti again, a third world country. Everything is run down and old and dry. Things are so poor here. It was quiet and the driver tried to make small talk using Google Translate. I chatted and exchanged contact information with the German couple. The driver works from 7am till midnight, he has a few kids, and doesn’t make much money driving the taxi. I can tell he's wanting a tip.
"Do you drink coffee?" DD asked him gesturing to the cupholder.
"Coffee? Yes. You?" He replied.
"Yes" she answered.
I think he's going to stop to get us coffee this could start getting expensive. Sure enough shortly afterwards he stopped at a small market and bought coffee and cookies for us. We paid him for it even though we didn’t want anything. We didn’t want to be rude. As we were driving along the German husband yelled out “yalla yalla!” Which the driver thought was fun and joined in yelling it with him. Apparently it means “Let’s go!” in an excited way.
All of a sudden we made a U-turn and headed off the main road into a neighborhood. It was startling to all of us, but the German wife had Google maps on the phone and we were able to check that this was still a route to Amman. As we were climbing the mountain our driver turned on some Arabic Hip Hop music and started singing with it to entertain us. He must really want a good tip I thought. He blasted the volume so loud that it hurt to hear it. And then he started dancing and trying to get us to join in. He wasn't touching the steering wheel as he drove with his knees to keep his hands dancing. The car turned into a dance party and we were trying to do what the driver was wanting.
I started getting a headache but I didn’t want to be perceived as coming against the driver so I rolled the window down to let the sound out some, but the wind was too much as it rustled the papers in the back and I was asked to roll it up again. The dance party resumed but DD wasn’t dancing so the driver reached over and grabbed her wrist and pulled it up into the air to get her to dance again. I was extremely uncomfortable. So was DD. She told me later that she was terrified but didn’t want to upset him. It is not normal in the Arabic culture for a man to touch a woman, ever. DD felt nauseous and had a headache of her own but had to be pretending to enjoy herself so that she didn’t offend him. I reached up and held her other hand from behind and she squeezed me so tightly. He was driving as fast as possible and didn’t use his hands even when weaving through traffic always driving with his knees.
When we started approaching the city he searched in his phone for the Crossen Hotel, but we were looking for the Geneva hotel. I tried to remind him of where we were going but the communication was difficult. We ended up arriving at the correct hotel. I believed that he was expecting a big tip for how hard he tried to please us. He even asked us through Google translate if we had fun and assured us that he enjoyed his time with us as well. So I tipped him 10 dinars and $2 for his kids. We made it safely, God is so good.
Settling In
Chip and Jamie had been waiting for us and came right out to greet us. We could finally relax knowing that we were safe. Their tour group through Jordan had just ended and had booked a number of rooms. However, a number of the people only showered in their room before heading to the airport so the room was empty and paid for. God is so good.
Someone on the trip even donated money to help DD and me have dinner and some cash. As we walked into the room DD ran in and hugged a dresser. We're finally safe, finally stationary. Chip and Jamie brought us burritos and fries. For having barely eaten anything since breakfast I wasn’t nearly as hungry as I expected to be. After saying goodnight to our friends we took showers and DD went to bed.
I however, connected to the Wi-Fi and contracted United about rescheduling our flights. This time out of Amman they were able to reschedule us easily. The earliest he could find was flying out Saturday evening. That works. I went to bed around 11 ready to get some good rest. Breakfast isn’t until 8:30am.
We're safe in a hotel with flights home from a country that is not at war. God is so good.
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