Everyone I met in Jordan was engaging, interesting and polite, including the children. If you find yourself in an old bedouin town, make sure to engage with the kids, who often speak english better than adults. Here they're playing with an abandoned jeep that now serves as a jungle gym.
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At one point in a jeep tour across the Wadi Rum (site to site, T.E. Lawrence's house, petroglyphs, a spring where camels drink, and so forth), our guide pointed to large red dunes and suggested taking off shoes. So many parts of the tour felt more like sailing than driving. The light sand, blowing at my feet, made me feel like I was swimming more than walking. The wide desert gave me the same big-chest feeling that pounding waves do.
Over and over again I heard that Jordanians esteem the Bedouin for their grit and tradition, and the comparison made to the American cowboy. Some Jordanians are picked on if their accent isn't "Bedouin" enough.
Our guide half-bragged that he had never seen the movie Lawrence of Arabia all the way through ("I am busy, being in the desert--I am Bedouin!"), even though electricity and internet are fully available back at the Rum Village, where many live now.
Still, I heard other guides teasing ours about his clunky jeep. Its peeling paint, make-shift sunshade (a blanket), and bald tires added to the charm of our tour, in my book.
I asked for a story, or folk tale, around the camp fire. Our host struggled to offer one. Finally he offered an anecdote about a camel ride gone wrong. Occasional cultural texts struck me--like the bumper sticker on the jeep. I'm still curious to learn more about the Bedouin of Jordan's Wadi Rum.