After lunch and a rest, we went for a tour of Madaba. There are next to no traffic lights in this city, and the speed limit appears to be dictated by individual preferences. Streets wind up hills and twist down across ruins, casually blending Ottoman ruins and Roman Christian architecture with craft shops, shisha dens, bakeries, and cellphone stores.
We stopped first at the Church of the Map, a 6th century CE Byzantine church that is home to a gorgeous floor mosaic map of the Holy Land. The walls, too, are covered in detailed mosaic art, depicting the stations of the cross, Saint Michael, and Saint George.
After that, we went down to the Archaeological Park to see some of the oldest mosaics in the area. They weren’t as intricate as the map, but they were lovely. In the park is the crypt of a saint (I will find out which one and post the name later), which bore the mosaics of grapes and pomegranates. The museum guide said that the grapes were there to feed the flesh, and the pomegranate to feed the soul.
Our next stop was at the top of the Madaba acropolis, which bears the oldest church in the city, a Roman construction the tower of which overlooks the entire city. If the opportunity arises, I might go and check out the inside before I come home. As we wandered down the hill from the church, the late afternoon call to prayer began, accompanied by an almost mournful music. The effect was eerie, yet somehow peaceful. For a moment, it was like we’d wandered on to the set of a movie. I half-expected to see a mysterious man with a little box sitting in a dim cafe, croaking out, “What’s your pleasure?”
After buying water (I’m not brave enough to have my innards curb-stomped by the water here yet) we headed back to the hotel, had supper, and went through a brief orientation. Then, at last, came sweet, sweet sleep.
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