Jordan - Day 4

Tuesday was our less scheduled day. We ventured a short ways outside Amman to a small village called Iraq el Amir. We visited a castle built in the 2nd century BC. It was beautifully overgrown. We were let in by a local man who, we could only presume, cares for the property. We had a great time climbing around the abandoned castle and picking up some of the unfortunate amount of trash.
We were privileged to then spend the rest of the morning and afternoon with the Iraq el Amir women. We watched them make paper cards out of banana leaves, throw clay to create beautiful pottery, weave unique rugs and throws, and enjoyed a wonderful meal prepared by them. It was very humbling to see up close the circumstances under which they live. We were able to see just how meager many of these people live. They sell their wares to whomever will buy them. They have a new project underway where they have planted green onion seeds throughout their village. Everywhere we walked we saw green onions growing. They harvest them three times a year and sell them to local farmers, stores, and hotels, again, to anyone who will buy them.
As we walked through the village and fields between their houses to witness the picturesque view, we trounced through what most likely was stinging nettle. It felt like bee stings up and down our legs. Fortunately a local woman was carrying Abby (who was much shorter than the brush), Dano was carrying Kennedy (who wasn't feeling well), I was carrying Erin (who was having a difficulty climbing through the overgrown mountainside in crocs), and Ethan chose today to wear full length jeans. So, Dano and I were the only ones who really suffered. I'll never forget that feeling as little red welts began popping up all over our legs and feet.I had previously thought these women were refugees from Iraq, as Jordan has become a safeplace for roughly three million Iraqis over the past six years. However, after we learned the whole village was called Iraq el Amir, we were told that ‘Iraq' means hills or mountain and ‘Amir’ means prince. The village had been named such thousands of years ago as the Tobiad Prince built his aforementioned castle. Thus, the village’s name means prince of the hills or mountain. Only a few of the women spoke a little broken English. Thankfully we can greet, say politenesses, and give a few compliments in Arabic. We had a memorable time with these sweet women who said so little but taught us much.