We left the hotel around 8 a.m.
Everyone was ready for a day rest and relaxation on the shores of the Dead Sea. For the first time on the trip, most of the curtains in the bus were closed as we drove back north.
Everyone was still tired from the night before and tried to catch some sleep during the three-hour car ride.
I wanted to get some sleep too so I dug through my bag to find my ipod.
I laughed as I played Phil Collins while looking out at the desert sand.
The music clashed with the scenery and I was mildly amused.
I eventually fell asleep and woke up to our bus winding down a steep mountain road.
Off in the distance, I could see a large blue body of water that I assumed was the Dead Sea.
My ears began to hurt as we descended lower and lower towards the sea.
The Dead Sea is the lowest point on earth and the pressure change felt just like being in an airplane.
We drove along the dark blue water and saw some people floating.
We started to get excited for the resort but we were first going to the baptism site of Jesus Christ.
The baptism site was right beyond the Dead Sea along the Jordan River.
I used the opportunity to try to get video of the river but had trouble with the audio because of all the tour groups that were walking around. But I managed to get a few good shots that showed up low the river had gotten.
Perhaps because I was distracted with trying to get video for my story, I did not really let the idea that I was where Jesus Christ was baptized sink in.
Mo explained how archeologists figured out where John the Baptist and Jesus stood in a spring by the river but I just snapped a few photos and looked for another way to film the river.
Mo then took us to another part of the river that was only about 15 feet wide where many people come to be baptized.
This was also the border between Jordan and Palestine.
A camouflaged jeep with a .50 cal machine gun mounted on the top was hidden in a straw hut nearby and an armed Jordanian official stood guard along the river.
Our group dipped their feet in the river and I shot more video.
Across the river, on the West Bank, the Israelis had flown an Israeli flag. It was a reminder of the sensitive conflict that President Obama had talked about.
Next, we boarded the bus and headed off to the hotel for our long awaited vacation.
The check-in process was taking forever so a few of us decided to use the time to go out and report on the Dead Sea.
We went a neighboring hotel and I was able to film their water-recycling center and got an interview with their maintenance manager.
He even took us up on the roof of the hotel and I got some beautiful wide shots of the resort area of the Dead Sea.
After this, I was ready for a break.
It was supposed to be my day off and I was at the Dead Sea.
I didn’t want to waste all my time working.
I checked into my room, threw on a swimsuit and headed down to the beach.
I stopped to take photos of the gorgeous views from my hotel on my way down.
The hotel was nice but it was my least favorite. It was another village-style resort but it was less authentic and I could tell that the stone walkways and buildings were artificial.
I got down to the beach and met with part of my group.
They told me to keep my shoes on because the sand was unbearably hot.
I wanted to get the desert sand off of them anyway so I decided to wear them into the sea.
Floating was unbelievable,
“It feels like anti-gravity,” said one of the girls in our group and I agreed.
I could effortlessly sit in the water, lay back and relax.
The only problem is that I quickly discovered any cut or scrape on my body.
The Dead Sea is so salty that any open wound burns the second it gets in the water.
I was so buoyant that it was even difficult to try to tread water with my head upright and my feet underwater.
My feet kept floating back to the surface and swimming like this required slight finesse and balance.
We only stayed in the water for 15 minutes because we didn’t want to get dehydrated.
With so much salt, the sea actually pulled fresh water out of my body.
I realized this later when I got back to the hotel and chugged a few bottles of water.
But after floating in the Dead Sea, we headed to one of the pools.
Swimming in normal water was difficult after effortless floating in the sea.
Especially because this had been my first time swimming for the summer, I was surprised at how much work it took to tread water.
We hung out for an hour or so before we had to get ready for dinner.
My hands were full when I returned to my hotel room.
I had been carrying my cameras, a huge towel and my shoes.
As I opened the door and threw in my shoes and towel, the door slammed shut and I was locked out.
“Oh, great,” I thought.
So I strapped on my camera bag and headed to the reception desk.
It was approaching dinnertime and everyone was walking around in nice outfits as they headed to the different restaurants in the resorts.
I, on the other hand, walked into the five star hotel without a shirt or shoes and in a wet swimming suit.
Again, the check-in process was taking forever and I impatiently stood in the lobby and felt incredibly out of place.
One man, who was walking with his wife, stopped and looked down at my feet and then moved upward, surveying my entire outfit, or lack thereof.
I gave him a “how’s it going?” smile but he walked away nodding and mumbling something to his wife.
“Jealous,” I jokingly assured myself.
We were meeting with Senator Akel Biltaji and I wanted to look nice.
Senator Biltaji looked like a cross between the Reverend Al Sharpton and Albert Einstein.
He had a thick white mustache, kind eyes and slicked back white hair that puffed out on the sides of his head.
He was a very friendly man and I could tell he was a politician. He knew how to work the crowd.
We sat around and had drinks while he let us ask him questions.
Most of what he talked about was the changing confidence Middle Eastern states had in the U.S.
He was incredibly pleased with President Obama’s speech but wished he had focused more on the suffering of the Palestinians.
Still, he said, President Obama said everything that he had needed to and he looked forward to seeing results from Obama’s words.
As Senator Biltaji spoke, the general manager of our hotel came over and did some royal ass kissing to him and welcomed our group to the hotel.
The drinks he had, of course, were complimentary of the hotel and he thanked us for visiting and wished us a pleasant stay.
We took a picture with the senator and went to the restaurant for a quick dinner.
Mo told us that there was a beach party that night and we didn’t want to waste too much time at a formal dinner.
I had a light meal and ran back up to the reception desk,
Since the general manager had been so nice to us, I thought he might grant me a brief interview about his concerns over the shrinking Dead Sea and how it could affect hotels and tourism.
The manager was much nicer when the senator was around.
He wouldn’t even come out of his office and I could hear him chewing on some sort of food as he rejected my request over the phone.
“Oh well,” I thought, “I tried.”
I wanted to get to the beach party anyway.
Our group meet outside a restaurant that had a live band playing soft rock music that would have been perfect for my parents.
“Is this the beach party?” I asked Merissa.
“No no no,” she assured us all.
As Mo led us down the beach, I couldn’t hear any music.
Eventually I saw flashing red and blue lights and thought we were getting close.
Before getting down to the bar, Mo pointed out a line of lights that was on the mountain range on the other side of the Dead Sea.
I was looking at Jerusalem.
We walked down some stairs and I could hear the faint sound of techno music.
We were the party. There was no one else there.
Some residents had complained about the noise so the D.J. was forced to turn down her music.
I was disappointed by the lack of people but also because techno music should never be played softly.
Finding a seat at the bar was easy and we all ordered strong drinks to celebrate our last night in Jordan.
Eventually, a group of guys made their way down to the bar.
They were from the U.S. on a business trip with their company.
We started talking and had a fun time sharing where we were all from.
One guy was from Baltimore and we had a good time talking about HBO’s The Wire while everyone else listened to our conversation with no clue what we were talking about.
The bar was closing down so I paid my tab but stayed to talk to my fellow U.S. citizens.
But before closing, my fellow Marylander bought the bar a round of shots and I explained to his friend what our press trip was about.
Although I thought I had conveyed that the purpose of our trip was to learn more about the Middle East, he didn’t seem to understand that I didn’t hold the region to preconceived stereotypes.
“You go to watch out for these Hajis,” he said as he took another sip of beer.
It was difficult trying to respond in a way that neither condoned his raciest remarks nor started a confrontation.
The guy from Baltimore, however, had no problem causing issues.
After complaining that the bartender had made him a weak drink, he went on a rant about Iraq and said some awful things about Arabs.
One girl in my group told him to tone down his comments and he lost it.
This belligerent asshole was saying some of the most raciest comments about Arabs right in front of our bartender, Merissa and in the middle of five star resort on the Dead Sea.
His friends didn’t seem comfortable with what he was saying but they didn’t make any effort to stop him.
I tried to bring the conversation back onto the topic of The Wire but the guy had turned his hatred from Arabs towards the girl in our group who had told him to stop.
She quietly sipped her drink and ignored him as he yelled sexiest remarks at her.
He kept getting closer to her until I finally stood up and walked in between them.
I was embarrassed for her, for him and for all Americans.
Here I was in the Middle East, a place that is typically viewed as a volatile region of extremists, and the biggest confrontation I faced was with another American.
His friends finally coerced him away from the bar and I stayed to make sure my friend was OK.
That’s when the bartender tapped me on the shoulder and handed me another bill.
“No, I already paid,” I told him, as I looked a bill for another two rounds of Jack Daniels.
But the bartender, who seemed to speak very little English, told me that it was the bill for the guy from Baltimore.
The bill was for 14 dinars but they had left over 100 dinar on the bar and the bartender was trying to give me change.
“No, my friend,” I said, “That’s all you.”
I hoped he didn’t know enough English to understand what the guy had been yelling before he left.
The few of us at the bar walked over and met up with the rest of the group, who had been sitting in some couches a little ways away from the incident.
Thankfully, Merissa was not offended or upset but rather thought that we had handled ourselves well.
Inside, I was infuriated with what had just happened.
This guy was a reminder of the prejudice beliefs and ignorance some people have, which was the reason we were on this press trip.
It was my job to show the side of the Middle East that is so often unnoticed. People like the guy from Baltimore needed to learn of stories about the Middle East that explained the area’s culture and history.
The image of all Arabs being uncivilized terrorists needed to stop.
We were able to make some jokes about the incident and lightened the mood a bit.
We ended up moving to another stage where the live band was playing.
I ordered another drink and we got a hookah for the table.
We all wanted to relax and try to forget about the incident that had just happened.
The band was not playing typical college bar music as the crowd had turned into a group of young adults.
We all sat around and sang Bon Jovi and laughed at a group of South Americans who enjoyed dancing in front of everyone.
The last few songs the band played were traditional Arabic songs and people got up to do the dance that we had been taught the night before.
I wanted to get up and join but I doubted my coordination skills and thought it would be best if I just sat in my seat and clapped.
Once the band stopped playing we all slowly trickled off to bed.
I went back to my room and started to pack and organize.
I didn’t plan on getting too much sleep because I had a long flight the next day.
In the morning, I wanted to shoot some more video and try to get a few interviews.
So I set a wakeup call for 5 a.m. and fell asleep.
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