Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: ANCIENT (06/04/20)
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TITLE: Petrified Palaces | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
06/05/20 -
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considered one of the current seven wonders of the world. At least, that’s what I told myself when I spotted the brunette ogling the Al Khazneh treasury in Petra, Jordan.
She turned her back to the structure and held up her camera, self-consciously slipping her scarf onto one shoulder and pasting on a smile as bright as the north star. She fidgeted with a dangling earring, corralled a stray strand of hair behind her ear and raised her chin just enough.
The mingling crowd behind her seemed to interfere with her plan for the shot and she lowered the camera, glancing over her shoulder, exposing a necklace of emerald jade stones. A dozen camels piloted by Bedouins sauntered through her view. I made my move.
“Miss, would you like me to take your picture?” I stood five strides away, as petrified as the towering cliffs around me.
She didn’t even turn. Perhaps she didn’t speak English. “Pardon, Mademoiselle,” I said, ‘puis-je prendre votre photo?” Again, no response. I took a step closer and tried in Spanish. “Puedo tomarte una foto?” Again, nothing. I stepped within an arm’s length of the living Venus and tried one last time in German. “Darf ich dein Foto machen?”
She pivoted like a ballerina in the Nutcracker looking squarely into my chest. “You had me at Miss, would you like me…” she said in a flirtatious Texan drawl. She extended the cell phone up like the Statue of Liberty holding the torch and waited for me to retrieve it. When I did, she sashayed away and struck a dramatic pose with one hand curled up at shoulder height and one curled against her waist. Again, the smile.
The moon rolled across the darkening sky above the towering cliffs like a bowling ball arcing for a perfect strike. The first touch of chill swept in on a breeze through the narrow gap that marked the secret path into the ruins. Hushed whispers escalated the sense of awe from the wanderers who had traveled the world to be in this magic moment. The camels moved on.
“Well, did you get enough?” she asked. I quickly clicked a few token images. And then took a breath.
Here was the place where Indiana Jones was mesmerized by the Holy Grail and the girl who betrayed him. From the beginnings of time, ancient peoples scratched away this rock into tombs and temples, homes and hideaways, a 3000-seat theatre, and altars for sacrifices. Here, they begged the desert gods for favor and victory.
I held out the phone and decided to unload my guidebook of knowledge. “Did you know we’re in the eastern flank of the Arabah Valley somewhere between the Dead Sea and the Gulf of Aqaba? This may have been the capital of the Nabataean empire starting in the second century before Jesus. It was rediscovered about a century ago by a Swedish archaeologist.”
She arched her eyebrows. “Are we in some kind of game show? You might have told me this is also known as the Rose city and that UNESCO sees this as one of the most precious cultural properties of man’s cultural heritage.”
I shrugged. “Don’t suppose you’d like to share a coke and a falafel?”
She eyed me up and down like I was one of the relics carved from the rock. “Didn’t know that came with the tour,” she said with a smile. “Don’t suppose my husband would mind.”
I spluttered, “Your husband! Sorry, forgive me. I didn’t see a ring.”
She held up her hand in the moonlight. “Fancy that! Guess he hasn’t given me one yet. If only I knew who he was.”
The falafel was tasty and the company even better. The shades of red, purple and pale yellow in the sandstone cliffs lost their glory. The rest of the tour went far too fast and I still can’t remember the other sites along the way.
The best surprise came when we realized we had a common faith and hope on a solid rock that will never fade. We’ve been married for fifteen years now and right after things get back to normal, we’ve got a rock to show off at the oldest rock of all in Jordan. Some things, like love, never get old.
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