Time in a Bottle

Over the past year I have found myself in Jordan for a cumulative total of more than 3 months. It has been an enlightening time. In many ways the Switzerland of The Middle East, Jordan has a deserved reputation for hospitality. From the nomadic Bedouin to the sophisticates of Amman, Jordanians are an inviting and lively people. The traditional Arab tea greets you at every turn, and seldom can you be introduced without being offered a meal.

Jordan is famed for many things – the amazing Roman ruins of Jerash, the healing waters of the Dead Sea, the path of Moses to The Promised Land – The Jordan Valley, the olives of Ajloun, the castles of Saladin, the ancient mosaics of Madaba, the dunes and mountains of Wadi Rum – where the famed Lawrence hatched his plans for the region - and, of course, Petra – the Rose City. But Jordan also offers an amazing blend of cultures – nomadic Bedouin tribesmen, Palestinians, Jews, Christians, and any number of others are all welcome here. Jordan shows how we can all coexist – peacefully and prosperously.

With this amalgam of culture comes a great craft tradition. Embroiderers are at every turn. Elaborate Palestinian cross-stitch, simple, elegant Jordanian fill-stitches, olive wood carvings, camel and goat hair rugs, and – my favourite – sand bottles!

Sand Bottles – the art of the B'dul tribe in and around Petra. Reminiscent of the salt “painting” we made in elementary school by rubbing colored chalk across salt and then layering it into a clear container, these bottles incorporate the natural hues of the rock found throughout Jordan and concentrated in the hills of the Rose City. They can be simple striking patterns like those found throughout Petra’s tombs or elaborate geometrics or desert pastorals with caravans of camels or… they can even write your name in the sand as you wait!

Of course the Bedun are nomads and are famed for their trading skills – so they will – as many of us – make whatever sells. And there is of course no accounting for taste – especially from the bus-loads of tourists found at every turn.

But I want to concentrate on the beauty – or my idea of beauty – to be found in these treasures. The bottles I envision being brought back from The Grand Tour after Jordan was “discovered,” and the Petra was the farthest reach of the noble class of Europe. The bottles carefully packed in trunks by spinster aunts attending their nieces throughout the journey. The bottles E.M. Forster might have mentioned sitting on a tea table when the travelers returned home.

Most of these miniature treasures are created in small hand-blown glass bottles. (In and of themselves elegantly simple.) Using the most basic of tools, these artisans must first prepare their materials. As the base for their work is stone, each artisan collects his raw materials from the mountains and hills. With hues ranging from pink to red and blue to black the palette is seemingly endless. The stone is then crushed into fine sand and worked through a sieve to ensure the finest details can be created. Once the sand is prepared, the master begins his work.

Using crude tools made for this purpose alone, the “painter” begins to layer the colors of Jordan through the neck of the bottle using a long neck funnel with a precise point. Once a base has been established, the patterns are created with small sharp implements reminiscent of the trappings of a dental hygienist. Each figure or shape is carefully created and then held in place by the next layer of sand. Once the bottle is filled, and the panoramic scene in place, the artist seals time in place with a mixture of resin and sand.

These men – for they are mostly men who create the bottles – have taken the simplest of materials and tools and found a way to express their culture, and to preserve the images of Jordan in a most unique medium, and, most likely unknowingly, have also developed and outlet for their own creativity.

I have never seen anything quite like these gems of the desert. Each time I look at them I am reminded of Jordan in a way no other souvenir can manage. For they allow me to hold a memory in my hand. A memory quite literally created from the very land I’ve visited.