Making it to the lodge

After a couple of hours at the Feynan offices getting briefed on the history, geography, politics of the Feynan area, the operations manager, Bisher, drove me to the bus station. On the way we stopped at apparently the best known halawat (middle eastern pastries) shop, and Bisher bought a big tin can. Bisher explained that someone at the lodged was having a family celebration and needed the pastries. While the lodge is isolated, there is a daily bus. So things can be sent.

There is a bus schedule but ultimately the driver decides when to leave. So 11:30 schedule translated to 1 o'clock departure time.

There were two Bedouin women on the bus (to be clear this is a Toyota mini bus) when I got on. Bisher introduced me to the driver and after a short talk they went off to have tea.
Then I hear this voice saying in Arabic: "Are you American." I thought it quite weird that a Bedouin woman would be talking to a man; but there was no one else on the bus. So I turned around. A couple of rows back was what tomorrow
ike a mother and her daughter. The daughter then said: "Hi" in English, followed by "Are you American" in Arabic. They had heard me speak Arabic to the driver, so they knew I spoke Arabic. I explained that I was from Morocco and living in America. Well they just wanted to welcome me to Jordan.
We left around 1:00 PM. The bus was full. The bags comfortably occupied the aisle forcing passengers to step over them.
The sun was bright and the shades were drawn, but I did manage to get some views of the dead sea. I think the drive is scenic and best done in the morning when there is less heat and sun.
We stopped after an hour at a roadside strip mall. People had lunch and then bought groceries, mainly big bottles of sodas. Of course the sodas went next to bags in the already crowded aisle.
After another hour some people started getting off the bus. another hour later we reached a small town. The driver told me and this other guy to wait there for a pick up to the lodge. He said someone should be by in 10 minutes.
After fifteen minutes he was back.

He acted surprised or was surprised that no one had showed up. I was not surprised. We got back on the bus and drove to the Feynan EcoLodge reception center.
More tents than houses here. Many of the tents were labeled UN Refugee Aid. When you see it reality sets in.
Finally got to the reception center, a parking lot with a waiting room. There are other buidings around. A short distance from the reception center the road ends and you need a four wheel or you park your car and arrange with the lodge to have a local drive you.

I got off the bus and a guy directed me to put the luggage inside the room. When I came back out I went over to where a couple of guys were standing. We exchanged greetings. A another guy came over and after the greetings he asked: "where are you from."
From his accent and language I could tell he was not a Bedouin (the proper word is bedou, so I will be using bedou.)
"Morocco" I replied.
I could tell he was sizing me up. He seemed better educated. I guess I was sizing him up too.
"Where in Morocco?"
"Tetouan"
Upon hearing that he launched into reciting a poem ending in the verse from Cairo to Tetouan. I said: "You are a poet"
I think he found that quite pleasing because he burst out laughing. He said his name was Musa. He had done many of the developments in the area.

Of course we sat down and had tea. It is not unusual to have many cups of tea. The tea is sweet but easy to get used to. Fortunately the glasses are small, a little bigger than a shot glass, and if you learn to sip you can avoid multiple refills.

After about ten minutes an old Toyota truck showed up. The driver took unloading in the back then brought the truck around. The path is quite rocky and very bumpy. So the eight or so kilometers takes a longtime.
Finally made it to the lodge. I got a guest room for the two days. Time for some pictures.
The lodge website www.Feynan.com
OK can't figure out how to upload right now, maybe tomorrow