Madaba

Although during all the months we had looked longingly at them from the hills of Judea, they had seemed to rise almost perpendicularly from the banks of the Jordan and of the Dead Sea.

Our destination before nightfall was Medeba, which lies twenty-nine hundred forty feet above sea level.

Starting from the valley of the Dead Sea, twelve hundred ninety-two feet below the Mediterranean, and with the wide plain of the Jordan Valley to cross before the ascent could begin, it was evident we must reserve our force for the precipitous climb of over four thousand feet which awaited us, and we accordingly kept our horses in check, although the sandy plain offered temptation for a canter.

We had abundance of interest.

One of the group came forward and greeted us in such fluent German that we first took him for some agricultural speculator buying seed or seeking laborers among the fellaheen, for the agriculture, that is the organized, not to say scientific, agriculture of Palestine, is practically in the hands of Germans and Jews.

However, he turned out to be a native, educated at one of the many German schools of Jerusalem or elsewhere, at one time an employee of the Austrian post office, on his way alone with a dagger and a revolver for sole companions to visit some property at Madaba.

On hearing that this was our destination, he begged permission to join our cavalcade, which the professor readily granted, as the remaining journey among the mountains was especially solitary.

We were very grateful for coffee and an excellent lunch of sausage, potted meat, and jam with white bread, brought from Jerusalem, the last European bread we were likely to see.

An almost perpendicular climb, which the heavier among the party thought it only merciful to accomplish on foot, brought us to the summit of the farther range, the Tel El Mataba, marked by an extensive stone circle, from whence we practically looked down on Mount Nebo, and soon found ourselves in entirely changed surroundings.

Here and there signs of cultivation, a couple of fellaheen carrying a plough, a donkey bearing a sack of grain and driven by women, all spoke of the neighbourhood of human habitation.

A great plateau gently sloping upward to the east, the fertile Ard Abdallah, lay open before us, and we knew that beyond the gentle slopes lay the city of Madaba, of which at present there was no indication except that of the industry of its inhabitants, or at least the industry which its neighbourhood made possible.

On a slight eminence stood the tomb of Abdallah, of whom we could only learn that he was a great shetch, as was testified by the symbols displayed upon his tombstone, a mortar for preparing, an iron spoon for roasting, a pot for boiling, and a cup for drinking, the coffee, which was the symbol of his unlimited hospitality.

He has gone up to Bajith and to Dibbon, the high places, to weep.

Moab shall howl over Nebo and over Medaba.

On all their heads shall be baldness and every beard cut off.

In their streets, they shall gird themselves with sackcloth on the tops of their houses.

One of the group came forward and greeted us in such fluent German that we first took him for some agricultural speculator buying seed or seeking laborers among the fellahin, for the agriculture, that is the organized, not to say scientific, agriculture of Palestine, is practically in the hands of Germans and Jews.

However, he turned out to be a native, educated at one of the many German schools of Jerusalem or elsewhere, at one time an employee of the Austrian post office, on his way alone with a dagger and a revolver for sole companions to visit some property at Madaba.

On hearing that this was our destination, he begged permission to join our cavalcade, which the professor readily granted, as the remaining journey among the mountains was especially solitary.

We were very grateful for coffee and an excellent lunch of sausage, potted meat, and jam with white bread, brought from Jerusalem, the last European bread we were likely to see.

The leader of the attacking party was in hot argument with the sportsmen, who responded to his shouts and gestures with the cool imperturbability which, of all European characteristics, is most surprising to the Arab, while our mukharis, hastily collecting the baggage animals and casting an anxious glance ahead at the horses we were riding, hovered timorously in the rear.

As a mere accidental coincidence, we observed that another of the band had fallen upon an unlucky fella, who rode up at the moment, knocked him off his donkey, and was beating him, casually as it appeared, but probably pour encourager les autres, namely our mukharis.

They demanded, as we afterwards learnt, a tax upon every horse in our company before permitting us to enter the town of Madaba, which they represented.

If you belong to Madaba, then accompany us to Madaba, where we will pay any tax which appears to be just, replied our sportsmen calmly.

A plain of some four or five hours broad, for here all the measurement is by time at the rate of three or four miles an hour according to the nature of the country, lay between us and the foot of the hills, although during all the months we had looked longingly at them from the hills of Judea they had seemed to rise almost perpendicularly from the banks of the Jordan and of the Dead Sea.

Our destination before nightfall was Medeba, which lies 2,940 feet above sea level.

Starting from the valley of the Dead Sea, 1,292 feet below the Mediterranean, and with the wide plain of the Jordan Valley to cross before the ascent could begin, it was evident we must reserve our force for the precipitous climb of over 4,000 feet which awaited us, and we accordingly kept our horses in check.

Although the sandy plain offered temptation for a canter, we had abundance of interest.

The Jordan River is where Jesus was baptized.

Madaba, the city that my grandparents are from, is also mentioned in the Bible.

But something happened two generations ago where these villages that were so rich in history, were abandoned for the capital, for the city, for the consumerism, for a better way of life that created an uprooting in my ancestry.

So for me, going back to Jordan is about the roots.

The abundance of the materials that nature gives us is truly, truly magnificent.

So yeah, that's part of the process I work with when I use materials is I go for what is natural, what is readily available, what is here for us to use and to create something that feels natural true and authentic to the place, to the site that we are building on, rather than trying to go so far and wide to search for something that doesn't belong in this site.

And actually just a very funny story, a project that I'm working in, in Madaba, working with clay, mud, sand, and straw, the thing that drove us or gave us the most difficulty was the wood.

We had a lot of delay.

One of the group came forward and greeted us in such fluent German that we first took him for some agricultural speculator buying seed or seeking laborers among the Fellaheen, for the agriculture, that is the organized, not to say scientific, agriculture of Palestine, is practically in the hands of Germans and Jews.

However, he turned out to be a native, educated at one of the many German schools of Jerusalem or elsewhere, at one time an employee of the Austrian post office, on his way alone with a dagger and a revolver for sole companions to visit some property at Madaba.

On hearing that this was our destination, he begged permission to join our cavalcade, which the professor readily granted, as the remaining journey among the mountains was especially solitary.

We were very grateful for coffee and an excellent lunch of sausage, potted meat, and jam with white bread, brought from Jerusalem, the last European bread we were likely to see.

The leader of the attacking party was in hot argument with the sportsman, who responded to his shouts and gestures with the cool imperturbability which, of all European characteristics, is most surprising to the Arab, while our mukharis, hastily collecting the baggage animals and casting an anxious glance ahead at the horses we were riding, hovered timorously in the rear.

As a mere accidental coincidence, we observed that another of the band had fallen upon an unlucky fella, who rode up at the moment, knocked him off his donkey, and was beating him, casually as it appeared, but probably pour encourager les autres, namely our mukharis.

They demanded, as we afterwards learnt, a tax upon every horse in our company before permitting us to enter the town of Madaba, which they represented.

If you belong to Madaba, then accompany us to Madaba, where we will pay any tax which appears to be just, replied our sportsman calmly.

Although during all the months we had looked longingly at them from the hills of Judea, they had seemed to rise almost perpendicularly from the banks of the Jordan and of the Dead Sea.

Our destination before nightfall was Medeba, which lies 2,940 feet above sea level.

Starting from the valley of the Dead Sea, 1,292 feet below the Mediterranean, and with the wide plain of the Jordan Valley to cross before the ascent could begin, it was evident we must reserve our force for the precipitous climb of over 4,000 feet which awaited us, and we accordingly kept our horses in check.

Although the sandy plain offered temptation for a canter, we had abundance of interest.

One of the group came forward and greeted us in such fluent German that we first took him for some agricultural speculator buying seed or seeking laborers among the fellahin, for the agriculture, that is the organized, not to say scientific, agriculture of Palestine, is practically in the hands of Germans and Jews.

However, he turned out to be a native, educated at one of the many German schools of Jerusalem or elsewhere, at one time an employee of the Austrian post office, on his way alone with a dagger and a revolver for sole companions to visit some property at Madaba.

On hearing that this was our destination, he begged permission to join our cavalcade, which the professor readily granted, as the remaining journey among the mountains was especially solitary.

We were very grateful for coffee and an excellent lunch of sausage, potted meat, and jam with white bread, brought from Jerusalem, the last European bread we were likely to see.

The leader of the attacking party was in hot argument with the sportsmen, who responded to his shouts and gestures with the cool imperturbability which, of all European characteristics, is most surprising to the Arab, while our mukharis, hastily collecting the baggage animals and casting an anxious glance ahead at the horses we were riding, hovered timorously in the rear.

As a mere accidental coincidence, we observed that another of the band had fallen upon an unlucky fella, who rode up at the moment, knocked him off his donkey, and was beating him, casually as it appeared, but probably pour encourager les autres, namely our mukharis.

They demanded, as we afterwards learnt, a tax upon every horse in our company before permitting us to enter the town of Madaba, which they represented.

If you belong to Madaba, then accompany us to Madaba, where we will pay any tax which appears to be just, replied our sportsman calmly.