it's time to go home

There's not much left to do here. The piano is gone, the sun has set, and we've said a few goodbyes, so all seems quieter now. Soon we will pull down some pictures, collect our things from around the apartment, pack our bags, and double check all the important documents. Like I said, there's not much left to do before we put our heads to our pillows and slow our hearts and minds for one more peaceful night's sleep in Amman, Jordan. In the morning we will rise with the sun and welcome the dawn of a fresh season for us.

In the waiting there is a sort of beauty--an acknowledgment that behind us is the new history of our lives, and before us is the opportunity to live out of the depth of that experience. We find ourselves simply nodding, like people do when they understand a truth without having to speak it. The truth is that it's time to go home. This epic journey is leading us back to San Diego, California, USA--not just San Diego, though, for in the words of our brother-in-law, we continue to be led in the pursuit of "...somewhere much greater, the home of your heart, the bosom of the living God, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob."

See you after one sweet week in Switzerland. Check back for the end of the story.

coming to a close

my journal entry from this morning

It is nice out today! I've said it four times already- but today, while I stand out on the balcony, it feels like I'm at the beach! Yes, very random, I know. Because I couldn't be more smack dab in the middle of a desert. But the sunshine, the strong cool wind, yes, if I close my eyes I can go there. I feel like I am sitting on the edge of a giant ocean. I will let my mind transform the unending traffic below into beautiful crashing waves! Oh, here come the waves now. Some waves are noisier than others, but they sure do fly by! As much as I try, I can not seem to transform that man's voice. Yes that one that trills and tramples all over my beach dream. There are no calls to prayer in my beach get away. Well perhaps he could be the lifeguards calling out their safety warnings? Nope, not working for me. The call to prayer brings me back to the very clear fact- I am nowhere near a beach. But, I will be soon!

We are counting down the days- we have two more days at our little Arab summer home. It's hard to believe it's time to go home. I have loved this place. I have felt so very comfortable, safe, relaxed, creative, and in touch with a new voice inside me. Maybe I learned something along this crazy journey of ours, maybe I didn't. And I love that I can say that. Because my first reaction tells me that I need to share something significant... that I need to prove myself and prove the reason for this journey. But I quickly realize that I'm only trying to find my own significance in the process. Maybe, this is all I needed to learn. That I can honestly say "Maybe we learned something, maybe we didn't learn anything- but I'm okay with that, because we had the greatest time!" Like I've said many times along this journey- "This trip isn't necessarily about accomplishing something, it's just something that needs to be accomplished." Or how I described it in Santorini to Joe, "This journey has always been on my recipe card of life. It was always something that was intended and necessary for the full makings of my life." Ahhh, with a deep breath and a true smile to self- I am thankful. Life feels so full today.

down and dirty

Showering was more important than usual last night after we got back from our two day desert excursion to southern Jordan. It was necessary--and it felt oh so good--to scrub from our skin a thick layer of red sand, a symbolic reminder of another layer of memorable life experience. We enjoyed the company of our good friend Mohammad as we accomplished a whirlwind tour of Aqaba, Wadi Rum, and Petra across the extremes of summer in the middle of the Middle East desert. It was fun to follow in the footsteps of Indiana Jones on the path to Petra, but first we bussed our way to Aqaba for a dip in the Red Sea, then camped like the Bedouins among the dramatic cliffs of Wadi Rum.

The highlight for me was our evening to morning stay in Wadi Rum, a protected area of desert wilderness with contrasting sand valleys and sandstone peaks. I like rock climbing, so I was happy to scale a couple of piles of carved sandstone, first for the sunset, then again when Mohammad woke me up to catch the sunrise. Between the times that the sun was painting the mountains red, we squeezed in some good conversation and a fairly comfortable night's sleep in a canvas tent under the blur of a million stars. I can still feel the warm desert breeze blowing on my face and, though it eventually carried me away from Wadi Rum, it was nice to have nowhere else to be that night.

olympic goodies

Have you ever found yourself on the edge of your seat while archers fire their arrows at the far away bull's eye? Or felt the excitement of a judo wrestler flipping her opponent over her shoulder? Ever seen the crazy intensity of a Chinese ping pong-ist? Or enjoyed the beauty of a birdie smashed down onto a badminton court? Perhaps you've missed the barbarian madness of the Russian handball team? Ever dreamed of watching hours of greco-roman wrestling? I bet you have. Or how about watching the frightening faces of hefty women as they throw themselves under massive amounts of weights. That's right... the beauty of weight lifting. Thailand won a gold in weight lifting; made me especially proud. Or our new personal favorite... each time the competitor jumps sky high my stomach sinks! Then he flips and flies like backyard children only dream of! The excitement of the bouncy trampoline! Yes, my friends, these are the Olympic events that have filled our television screen this last week. Sure, the swimming and gymnastics are on, occasionally, and if we are really lucky we'll even catch it in English. But, the networks serve a different audience over here. Channel after channel, we're getting our fill of Olympic events we have never even heard of! We have found a new love for the Olympic little guys, and we're cheering them on, even the folks running the odd and funky Steeple Chase. Bet you never watched that before. Come to the Middle East, you can find all the Olympic goodies here.

a backyard field trip

According to Tripadvisor, our hometown of San Diego has 260 points of interest. Contrast that to our current hometown of Amman, Jordan, where Tripadvisor, by a big stretch, counts 9. This week we took an outing to point of interest #9.

Together, just after a shwarma lunch, we grabbed a taxi and headed toward Amman's old downtown (headquarters of the world for pirated DVDs and high-end name brands for under a dollar- Christmas presents are coming your way!). We climbed the main hill in the very heart of downtown, and at the top we found Amman's #9 tourist attraction: the Roman Citadel. For about 3 bucks each, we got to see a Hercules temple, a cistern, baths and a church built in the 2nd century. Most ruins we've seen along the journey have been roped off and protected against tourist invasions. But here in Amman (the ancient biblical city of Philadelphia) things are, let's say, a bit more low key. There aren't any ropes to protect the ruins, and there aren't any ropes to protect the tourists either! (There are some deadly drop offs right around the perimeter of the ancient walls!) So, Joe and I carefully roamed this hilltop gem and took in some of the most beautiful views Amman has to offer. For a long while it was quiet, with only occasional honking horns to remind us of the congested city below. Then, in a moment, that all changed. The skies filled; the sounds echoed from hillside to hillside, pouring into the valleys below. It was time for prayer, and you're completely clueless if you don't know it. The mosques dominate the landscape, they are everywhere, and their music is mesmerizing. In that moment, perched above this old city, we listened. The voices sang over the valleys, singing of God and his greatness, to make haste to come and pray, and how nothing compares to God. It was a powerful moment, and a pretty one too.

Tomorrow, we are finally making the 44 mile trek down these desert hills, through the West Bank, and over to Israel, and for 5 days we will explore this spiritual and controversial land. We know, we know, we'll be careful.

the $2.80 taxi ride (worth a million bucks)

Allow me to introduce you to the new voice telling the story of West / Middle East dynamics. His name is Samir and he drives a taxi in Amman, Jordan.

It was Samir who I happened to flag down for my cross town trip the other day. I quickly realized that here was a man--a small, smiley man--who actually spoke less English than I speak Arabic. That's not saying much, but time for me to practice. With few words, we covered the basics about our names, homes, families, etc. Samir, a Palestinian, then took it to the next level by pointing to his prayer rug and asking me if I am a Muslim and whether I believe in one God. I knew he wouldn't understand much, but I responded by saying something to the effect of, "Well, yes, one God, but I follow Jesus."--half in Arabic, half in English. I freaked out and almost jumped out of the car when he then flashed a knife. No, I'm lying, he did not do that! Sorry about the scare. But doesn't our perspective tell us to half expect a story like that? What Samir really did was continue to smile and use his hands and Arabic to communicate, "You and me, friends, brothers." Beyond that, he spent the remainder of our time together in the taxi trying to make me understand that any Arab-American conflict (Israel was his example) is among the governments, but that between the people there are no problems. Accordingly, we smiled again and shook hands fondly before I got out of the car. Once more before he sped off, he waved out the window to me: "Bye Joe."

It's slightly unrealistic to think that everyone everywhere expresses the sentiment of Samir's heart, but maybe, instead of driving a taxi, he should be using his voice to influence more people in the global community.

more maertz milestones

Although we remember with fondness our rainy days in New Zealand, we have since come a long way in terms of time, distance, and weather. We are happy to report that it has been exactly two months (May 19th in Rome) since we last experienced even a cloudy day. Yes, it's been quite "enlightening" to live life sunny side up. In other news, we're also marking exactly five months (February 19th) since we left home, plus we're halfway through our time in Jordan--less than seven weeks left before we land in San Diego, California, USA! How do we feel about that? Ask us in seven weeks. Next up is a highly anticipated visit to our neighbor, Israel. We've pushed it back twice now due to an overall unwillingness to deal with any sort of travel logistics, but sooner or later, we'll make it.

On a more serious note, please take a short time to know and remember a special little guy by clicking here. Our nephew's cousin, Jackson, is barely six months old, and this Thursday he'll be undergoing open heart surgery. Please pray.

sa'id said

Sorry, no fun videos nor big stories today. (Although, Wanida did insist on one picture below.) Instead, a thought provoking, question raising, answer seeking post for your consideration. Fun!

Generation after generation, the relationship between the West and the Middle East has been increasingly steeped in issues of oil, politics, military moves, the media, and Israel-Palestine. I'll risk a generalization and say that now, post-9/11, the average American's interest in and attitude toward the Middle East have deteriorated, except of course for questions of our own security and prosperity. Are we fully aware, though, of just how far we've come in our awareness and understanding of the Arab Muslim world--or should I say, just how far we have to go? In an article written in 1980 (that would have been just as relevant if written yesterday), one man seems to have summarized it.

Edward Sa'id (Sa-eed) was a Palestinian American author/writer and Professor of English and Comparative Literature at Columbia University before he died of Leukemia in 2003. Born in Jerusalem in 1935, he described himself as a "Christian wrapped in a Muslim culture", and he was an outspoken supporter of Palestinian rights. Sa'id is best known for his book Orientalism (1978), but two years later he wrote an article in The Nation in which he analyzed the West's perspective of the Middle East:
"So far as the United States seems to be concerned, it is only a slight overstatement to say that Moslems and Arabs are essentially seen as either oil suppliers or potential terrorists. Very little of the detail, the human density, the passion of Arab-Moslem life has entered the awareness of even those people whose profession it is to report the Arab world. What we have instead is a series of crude, essentialized caricatures of the Islamic world presented in such a way as to make that world vulnerable to military aggression."

Big statements. Any thoughts?

a tribute to jordan (and our new set of keys)

alive in the dead sea

I know what you're thinking: "Nice legs." To focus on those, though, is to miss our Dead Sea story, so stop staring and keep reading. Here's the story: We went to the Dead Sea. Not enough of a story? Let's review, then, some of the fun facts that make the Dead Sea quite an interesting and unique place. From Amman, its shores are only about 30 minutes away by car, and doing the drive involves descending from an altitude of about 2,500 feet to the lowest point on the surface of Earth, 1,378 feet below sea level. The waters of the Dead Sea are the second saltiest in the world with approximately 30 percent salinity, making it about eight and a half times saltier than the ocean. What this means is that floating on the surface is probably like no other swimming experience you've ever had; bring a book, bring a drink, but don't bother bringing a raft. Bobbing in the water is a strange sensation, especially because the water itself feels different--slimy and slippery like baby oil. Everything about the Dead Sea and the climate of the region, from the minerals to the sunshine to the temperature to the humidity to the barometric pressure, is supposed to be therapeutic and beneficial to the human body. It should come as no surprise, then, that the two of us have been transformed by our visit into superhumans with many new and unnatural powers. Now that's a good story!

how to overstay a welcome

We met Hassan in the dairy section of the grocery store. As an employee, with great English, he was determined to help us find sour cream. Up and down the aisles, this search became the foundation of our friendship. When the sour cream was discovered, we had already exchanged numbers and he had invited us to go out with him to his home. It was settled, he was picking us up at 7pm. Together we cruised through the Jordanian hills in his father's 1976 BMW, and about 30 minutes later we arrived into his neighboring town of Salt. At the door, we were introduced to his father, mother, and two of his sisters (a brother and four other sisters also make up this big family). It soon became very obvious, they were eager and delighted to play host, and we were their honored guests! It began with Arab coffee, a coffee so intense they only serve it in half ounce shots. On their best silver trays, they presented Pepsi, pears, water, chocolates, mango juice, tea and watermelon. As far as we knew, to reject any offers would be offensive, so we carefully and strategically managed to consume all the offered confections and drinks. During our third hour together, in fancy little glasses, they presented us with infamous Turkish coffee, and after the coffee the evening continued. This sweet family sat with us for hours; without understanding any English, they were committed to being proper hosts. Eventually I whispered to Joe "Do you think we should go soon?" But we both agreed, that might be rude, so we just sat there content, enjoying the kind hospitality of this wonderful Jordanian family and the warmth of this quiet little town. Finally, in our fifth hour together (and just before midnight) another round of coffee circled our way. Like any good guests, we drank up... and with our limited (but humorous) Arabic vocabulary, we continued to fuel the conversation. As another caffeine rush subsided, Hassan said "If you are ready to go, just let me know." Without wanting to appear too eager, we waited a few more minutes, then started our goodbyes. It wasn't until one week later that we learned a very important lesson in Arab hospitality: When the host serves coffee, it's a signal that the evening is coming to a close, and the guest knows it's time to go after the coffee is gone. Our gracious hosts catered to us for almost five hours and through multiple rounds of "this is your clue to go" coffee--if only we had known!

going domestic, please help

On our third day in Amman, we met these two Arab girls: Rania and Tamara. From the moment we met, they have showered us with kindness. They have gifted our apartment with DVDs of the TV show Friends and big red heart shaped pillows "to make you feel more at home." At a mere twenty years old, they have captured our hearts. To celebrate the girls finishing their 2nd year of university, I offered to make a special lunch. Rania requested Fettuccine Alfredo. I looked at the cooking light recipe, but to me it read like chicken scratch. So, I invited the girls to come make Fettuccine Alfredo with me! Together, we chopped up garlic, guessed on butter, milk, flour... and soon enough it began taking on the resemblance of Fettuccine Alfredo! Rania added the parsley garnishing and Tamara set the table, and together the four of us (including Joe) sat around the table and enjoyed our home cooked meal. Okay, here's the real truth, not all my cooking stories have been as pretty as that one. I offered Tamara a taste from my third attempt at oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. She carefully examined my rounded oat creation and kindly took a nibble. With a big smile she said "perhaps you need a new recipe?" and walked herself over to the trashcan. Living overseas makes us miss places like Costco, where all our meals are a simple 10 minutes away. I have no choice but to become domestic. It's been a road of discovery for me; and I've been dealt my share of challenges. There is no oven... only a toaster oven. We have no measuring cups, spoons, etc... everything is in pinches, handfuls, and the very accurate "pure guess-timation." Don't even get me started about metric conversions. I've learned that butter is a very important element in cookies, that lasagna noodles stick together in strainers, and that yeast is very high maintenance. Here's my request: send your recipes this way! But here's the catch, please explain everything in terms like "3 small handfuls" "big pinches" and "about 2 cups." Anything that needs precision is a sure disaster. Share the recipe in a comment, for others to enjoy too. The girls loved cooking, and when I hinted at cooking together more, they were all for it. Later that evening, Rania sent me this text message: "When I pray, I don't see God, but I know he listens. As such, when I text you I don't see you but I know you think of me and smile." I was doing just that.

we agree with the queen

"What in the world are we doing here?" "Why have we committed to spending a summer living in Amman, Jordan?" It's not that we ourselves are still struggling for answers to these questions, but people from all over the place continue to scratch their heads and ask, so we thought we'd spell out the method to the madness of our being here.

It's been a while now, but one day, post-9/11, a seed was planted--a seed that eventually produced fruits of interest in all things Arab and Muslim. Times are turbulent, true, but moving in the direction of the Middle East started sounding more beneficial than turning our backs to it. In the context of this trip, we decided to devote about half of it to engaging with the elements of one Arab Muslim society by immersing ourselves in it. On the surface it may smack at being foolish and idealistic to think that it will matter, but we're maintaining the faith to believe in a few ideas:
Real, personal relationships between the West and the Middle East have been replaced by politics and the media, and unfortunately, stereotypes are being enhanced instead of eliminated.
Also, many misunderstandings between those who follow Jesus and those who follow Mohammad have resulted in a rift of fear and conflict.
Perhaps, then, an open-minded approach to building a bridge between us and the Arab Muslim world through friendship and genuine conversation is important in light of today's global cultural climate, and at the very least we can enrich our own lives in the pursuit.

Jordan is a monarchy (quite a progressive one at that), and at the end of March, Queen Rania issued a challenge via YouTube for our different worlds to be more connected. Below is her optimistic and positive video in the spirit of dissolving stereotypes. In the words of one of my new Jordanian friends, Mohammad, "It's the time to understand each other."

welcome home, maertz family, welcome home