Recount Text Daytripping to the Dead Sea
Daytripping to the Dead Sea
A day trip to the Dead Sea with a Jordanian and his family
by ambigram0
I’m
sitting in the front seat of a silver seven-seater Nissan on the way to
the Dead Sea. The driver is a smiling man named Khaled who owns the
hostel I’m staying at. In the back are his wife and two energetic young
daughters. Thanks to my petrol money, Khaled gets to take his family out
for the afternoon.
We
drive for twenty minutes and then Khaled stops the car in a dusty
two-lane road next to a big metal shed. He doesn’t pull to one side or
anything, just stops in his lane. He gets out and goes into this
makeshift store. He comes back out with a bunch of bananas and a handful
of ice creams. He shares them out. Car horns are blaring behind us but
Khaled stands in front of the car and waves at everyone behind us. “It’s
okay,” he shouts, in English, then smiles at me.
The
girls still have ice cream around their mouths when we get to the Dead
Sea resort. They don’t like the Dead Sea itself so I leave the family by
the pool as I head down to the lowest point on earth. I scamper across
the burning hot sand to the water’s edge. The floating sensation is
immediately apparent as I wade into the water.
“Yes, yes, that’s why we don’t go,” Khaled says to me after I tell him what happened. “But you tourist, you have to try it, yes?” I nod, wincing.
After a quick swim in the pool as the sun goes down over the Dead Sea, it’s time to go.
The kids fall asleep in the back of the
car looking content. They’d enjoyed a great afternoon out of doing
homework or playing in the house. As I watched the Jordanian landscape
change from rural back to urban, I remembered trips out from when I was a
kid – to Butlins or to the beach or caravanning in Wales watching the
rain batter the windows as we played Uno or Monopoly. My brother and I
always fell asleep in the back of the car on the ride home, tired and
satisfied. I realised that, despite the language and the country and the
climate and a thousand other things, this Jordanian culture was
entirely familiar.
The world isn’t as big as we think it is.
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