Fieldtrip! Zizia Potters and Bedouin Family Visit

Sunday we slept in again – woo hoo! Then about 9:20 boarded a small bus for a full morning visiting living people instead of ancient archeological sites. Driving past the airport heading south, we found the Zizia potters creating pottery (a refreshing change after digging up heaps of broken shards every day). These Egyptian craftsmen migrate to Jordan for part of the year when conditions best suit processing clay. The foreman walked us through the stages of clay preparation.

Raw material, taken from a sprawling hill of clay, starts its transformation into workable clay in a small block pool. Here the raw clay is mixed and soaked before a worker enters the pool to churn the gloopy mess. Working the mixture with feet and hands for about 15 minutes, the worker eventually scooped buckets of water-born clay into a sift. The liquid pours into a larger pool where sand and salt are added. This mixture eventually flows to a settling pool where the wet clay drains. Next the clay is moved inside and added to a large pattie that a worker stomps. The clay is then moved to a smaller pattie for another stomping before it is divided into chunks and placed into a desiel-powered machine. Just like a Play-doh press, this machine pushes out cylindrical snakes that the foreman removed in uniform lengths and lined up on the floor. These clay lengths were carried to one of four potters. After vessels are shaped and dried, they are fired in one of three huge kilns heated by burning trash. I've tagged the process in the photos:

After the potters we turned back toward town. Near Tall Umayri we pulled off the road and drove up to a Bedouin tent. Abu Muhammad, our host, greeted us in the men's "room" of his tent. While he prepared coffee, he answered questions that Romel translated for us. He also answered his cell phone. Customarily, women and men sit separately, but we all stayed together for most of the visit. We were allowed to take pictures in this area, however, our host told us "no picture" when his five-year-old daughter brought twigs for the fire and "no picture" later when the women in our group went to the women's part of the tent. We were all given sweet tea but when the coffee was ready, we were told that usually only men drank it. However, once the men were served, with Romel insisting that Doug Clark be served first as the most important man present, then Abu Muhammad also offered coffee to women in the group. He explained through Romel that after drinking three cups of coffee with a person, you become a member of the family. This means if the host goes to fight, you help him fight. If you are in a fight, the host will help you fight.

Eventually, the women were taken to the private women's part of the tent. Abu Muhammad's wife, a slim woman of about 35, smiled. Her oldest daughter, 17-year-old Amal, smiled. Neither spoke any English and we now had no translator. We all smiled. Anita asked Abu Muhammad if she could use the bathroom. He pointed to the neatly stacked silver cooking pots and smiled. Kitchen. Ahh. We admired the organized shelves and small refrigerator. Our host spoke to his oldest son and soon a goat stood very close to our "room". Holding a tin cup in one hand and a goat teat in the other, Abu Muhammad, with five practiced pulls, filled the cup with warm, foaming milk. The milk was passed around the group. Second in the line, I sipped. Not bad. It didn't taste goat-y, just milky. Smiling, Abu Muhammad explained with gestures and a few English words that his wife will have a baby next month. She didn't look eight months pregnant, with her eighth child. Then our host returned to the men. More smiles. It was awkward. Mrs. Muhammad tried to communicate. She wanted to know how many children I have. "Two," I showed her with my fingers. "A son, here (pointing through the partition) and a daughter." I have no idea if she understood.

We heard the shout to depart and smiled our farewells. The family's hospitality was wonderful. We plan to send a gift of school supplies for the children by way of a thank you. It is because of school that the family is here rather than with Muhammad's brothers in southern Jordan. They stay in once place, instead of moving about, so that their children can have an education.