Cycling Jordan has suspended its Friday morning ride activities for the duration of Ramadan, and has instead been changed to Friday-evening “Iftaar” rides, timed to finish just as the sun sets and the daily fast can be broken by observant Muslims. I decided to join my friends and colleagues for yesterday evening’s ride, which was made more adventurous by the simple unspoken rule: No drinking water.

Now, let’s not be overly incredulous at this statement: most of us had water with us, in backpacks and hidden around our persons. But, especially for Muslims and even for obvious foreigners such as myself, when biking along the highways, it’s best to not antagonize fasting people who are already grumpy, especially while they’re driving vehicles weighing several tons. I had hydrated myself before leaving for Cycling Jordan, but just like everyone else, I left my water bottle holder conspicuously empty when we left for our 40K ride.

Sa'ad and Sufian attempt to calculate an alternate course, with slightly fewer nails sticking out of concrete

Sa'ad and Sufian attempt to calculate an alternate course, with slightly fewer nails sticking out of concrete

The advanced ride wasn’t in huge demand because of Ramadan, but besides me there was Sa’ad and his son Karim, Sufian the cycling Olympiad, and Dag and Svenka, the Norwegian couple.  The ride south from Amman was uneventful, besides finding one of Jordan’s many wonderfully unmarked construction sites  in the road (“permanent construction” we joked as we portaged our bicycles over the rebar and concrete; they’ve been working on the Jordan Gate now for 7 years) and our slow but steady dehydration process. Thankfully, the sun was already mercifully low in the sky and although my lips felt as though I’d rubbed them with rusty sandpaper, we reached the Cycling Jordan farm (Madaba version) even before the beginner group had returned from their 20K!

The iftaar was great – Sa’ad had guys slaving away over a hot barbecue fire for hours before the sun went down, and even after we arrived, most of (including me) respectfully refrained from drinking any water until the sun finally shed its last fiery sliver over Palestine – quite spectacularly, in fact! The meal was lamb kebab, shish tawooq (kebab, except with chicken instead), and 3a’rees, which is not only the Arabic word for “wedding” but also the word for the flat Arabic khubiz pita stuffed with lamb kebab meat and grilled that is traditionally served at weddings. My friend and colleague Roola (who works for IRD, Entity Green’s primary financial sponsor) was also there with her husband and children, for their first ride with Cycling Jordan.

Roola's son Omar, who coincidentally happened to be dressed very similarly!

Roola's son Omar, who coincidentally happened to be dressed very similarly!

In other news: the first week teaching at Whitman has gone quite well. I have a couple very small classes and I only teach twice a week, which allows me to focus more attention on my student. It’s weird to only have 45 minutes per class to do it – it’s only been a year, but already I’ve forgotten how comparably short high school and college sessions are compared with the 5 hours per day I had with my Iraqis! I’m looking forward to being able to branch out and spend a much more even and fair amount of time with all of my different contacts now.