500 Million years ago, a wide river braids over a vast flood plain. The land is bare, trees and shrubs are still far in the future and the gushing river has scoured through mountains, its swirling froth heavy with sand. Cambrian Trilobites crawl in the shallows, searching for crusty arthropods that burrow in the sand. The Eons roll away by the millions , sand piles on top of more sand, continents break up and the magnetic poles wander and swap ends. The land rises and new rivers carve out sandstone cliffs from the ancient river bed.

These red cliffs, are now part of what geologists refer to as the Umm Ishrin formation. It peeks out in wadi rum and all around the eastern edge of the Dead Sea. About 20 million years younger is the Disi formation, layered above and laid down by slightly less ancient rivers.

About 2400 years ago, the Nabateans moved in from somewhere in the Arabian peninsula and found this patch of land to their liking. At first they continued leading their rough nomadic lives, grazing sheep and hunkering down when the storms blew. Soon enough they realized that they were conveniently located, right amidst the caravans that criss crossed the desert.

From the Red Sea in the south, to Damascus in the North and the far flung Persian Gulf in the East, spices, myrrh, frankincense and other luxuries and necessities of life had to pass through their land and the Nabateans took to raiding and plundering. Quickly developing a taste for the luxuries of wealth, they then moved to collecting tolls and offering protection. A nice racket to kickstart civilization. From raiding to making fine delicate pottery, it was quite a jump.Alexander’s war hardened soldiers lured by tales of the Nabatean’s riches made attempts to annex but the protection offered by the cliffs was such that they were easily repelled.

Not having a architectural style of their own, they took elements from their neighboring civilizations. They acquired a taste for pediments and corinthian columns from the Greeks. Marble was in short supply, but the red sandstone laid down in the Cambrian was good enough. They chiseled away at the cliffs, and carved out tombs, temples and theaters. They had their own Gods, chief amongst them were Dushara and the goddess Al-Uzza.

Walking from the visitor center, the first sights of interest are in the pale yellow Disi sandstone formation. Here the Nabateans carved out the Obelisk Tomb and the Djinn Blocks. The Obelisk Tombs are clearly funerary with the upper levels housing the remains of the dead while a stark dining room dimly lit up by the rays of the sun is in the lower level. Priests, the family and high citizens feasted on a sacrificed camel yearly to commemorate the dead. A delicious mansaf, fit for the gods .

No one really knows what the Djinn blocks are about. A personification of the great Dushara perhaps, the nabateans worshipped abstract cubes, or maybe just unfinished tombs . These could also be instances of trial carving by sculptors and architects to test the technique or quality of the rocks. These giant cubes were mistaken by the latter day thirsty Bedouins to be magical cisterns and inhabited by Djinns or other worldly spirits. Apparently, its tough to drive away paganism from even the most zealous pagan haters.

Of more practical use today, the djinn blocks have comfortable niches and make for a good stony sofa to take in the Obelisk tomb. I manage to clamber up some loose rock and peek inside the barren interiors of the Obelisk tomb before being shooed away by a watchful warden from below. Most tombs can be accessed by visitors and it’s unclear why this one was supposedly off bounds.

Continuing along, we find ourselves entering the red sandstone of the Umn Ishrin. This is the famous slot canyon, called the Siq. Formed along a natural fault line and then widened by the roaring flash floods that swept down the valley, its a cool and dark passage into the treasures of the Nabatean city.

We walked through the Siq on all three days of our stay in Petra and the drama and awe we felt walking in it was undiminished. The sheer vertical walls rise up hundreds of feet and the narrow twists and turns must have made even the best of camels slow down its gallop to a trot. Without the Siq, perhaps Petra would have been run over by the pushy Romans, much earlier. As it was, the transfer of power to the romans, happened under much more prosaic circumstances. The sea route developed and the camel caravans tired. By AD 107, Petra was just another Roman city.

Water was all important in the stony, inhospitable conditions of the rocky terrain and the Nabateans managed to tame it by carving out channels into the side of the canyon. From springs that never ran dry in the Moses valley, they guided the precious liquid down to their city. Walking along the siq, we see niches carved on the walls that once held deities. The Nabateans, used a script that is referred as proto-arabic but their legacy is to be gleaned from very few and short inscriptions. Deeper and Intricate details of their religion are still a mystery.

Every now and then the cliffs appear to be dripping with black paint. This is the work of manganese oxidizing microbes and this patina is called ‘desert varnish’. Elsewhere in the Wadi rum, it makes for a great canvas to scrape petroglyphs.

In the evening, young bedouin men, walk back blasting rap music from portable speakers. Eyes lined with kohl they can be seen talking to every young woman they can get hold of. They appear charming and have their own sense of cutting humor. Donkey’s are advertised loudly as ‘Taxi’ and when a couple refused to take up the offer they were cooly asked ‘you want to go in ferrari?’. The Bedouins of Petra add people interest to the otherwise dead tombs. The ancestors of the current rap playing camo pants wearing young men moved in several hundred years ago. The forgotten tombs of the Nabateans, provided sturdier shelter than the sheep wool tents. They kept their newfound cave homes a secret and didn’t want anyone to interfere in their camel and sheep grazing life. Only in 1812 was Petra once again “discovered” by the white man. The Swiss traveler Buckhardt, in the garb of an Arab sheikh managed to gain entry, quickly sacrificed a sheep and got away before meeting the fate of other “infidel” visitors.

In time, the tourist hordes arrived and the bedouins today make a good living. It’s quite common to hear that such and such tomb is “my grandfathers”. Even our host in wadi musa had his own personal tomb somewhere in there. Camping in the tombs was a big draw till the last decade. The poor Nabateans might have wished to have built slightly less robust final resting places.

The Siq finally opens up to the most iconic sight of Petra, the iconic facade and chamber nicknamed the Treasury or Al-Khasneh. Here, sheltered from the wind is the best preserved monument in Petra. Built as a tomb for the king Aritas 4, the latter day squatters imagined them to be full of treasures, hence the mistaken name. Aritas managed to take his treasures with him to the netherworld.

The greek influence is obvious here. Corinthian columns, pediments and assorted figures are used to decorate. The whole thing is of course a facade, and the columns don’t really hold up anything. Its all one solid block of mountain, carved out only for beauty. It’s quite bizarre. The Nabateans, merchants first and foremost, seem most concerned about appearances. Facades are what they wanted and for this they borrowed their style from the Greeks, who were next door in Alexandria.

Earthquakes, do not bring down mountains and hence the whole thing stands today. Petra once had 30,000 inhabitants, and must have had dwellings for the commoners, but none have survived the climatic and geological ravages. Spotted camels, their hair dyed red with henna provide props for the tourist in front of the Khasneh. We eat some crispy falafels at the kiosks nearby and observe the proceedings. The interiors of Al-Khasneh are off limits , but apparently very plain and bare, much like all other tombs here.

The trail, continues along the “Street of facades”. Numerous small tombs and bedouins selling trinkets line the path. Donkeys idle in a few cool and dark tombs, having earned their break from the tourist trade. Continuing along we reach the theater carved in red sandstone.

Again, the pragmatism of the Nabateans, is impressive. Why haul marble from distant mountains, when you can just carve out the mountain itself. Michelangelo said something similar about freeing the sculpture from the marble. The Nabateans had already done it. In par with the times, this theater too would have promoted the popular arts. Music, dance, bloody man vs beast shows and maybe even philosophy? Who knows?

From here, there are several side excursions. The most picturesque of all are the Silk Tomb and the Roman Sextus Florentinus Tomb. Florentinus was the appointed governor for the Roman empire stretching into Arabian lands. The roman general had taken a liking and adopted the customs of the Nabateans. He left a will that detailed his remains to be buried here in a tomb. His son carried out his wishes. A slight detour from the others, this tomb of red, black and white swirls in sandstone is the richest, like waves in shiny silk. The square cut interiors are blackened with soot. Tombs once, ideal shelters from the cold wind for the others.

Next come the Palace, Silk, Corinthian and Urn Tombs. Tombs are indeed the whole theme here. The Palace tomb has a large yellow crane parked next to it. At first, we think this is some kind of expensive touristy experience, but it turns out to be archeologists taking a closer look. We chat with an Italian historian who is documenting it all.

We enter the Corinthian tomb, clambering up a few weathered rocks and are in for a surprise. Here, there are no archaeologists with cameras. It is in fact a home. A bedouin woman sits next to a smoldering kettle and offers us shai. My mom accepts and drinks her first sugary tea in decades. My mom’s Arabic suddenly comes back (a Gynecologist, she worked in Saudi in the 90’s and quickly picked up the lilting language) and we learn a little bit about this Bedouiness. Rolling a joint of what she calls bedouin tobacco she tells us about her now dead husband, her grown children and her lack of grazing animals. Colored red like the tomb she lives in and wearing a grand turban-scarf, she is a striking presence. When we bid her goodbye she refuses to take any money. The tea was delicious, and we relish this experience of the fabled bedouin hospitality.

The Urn tomb is the largest and we enter its courtyard after a short climb of stairs. There is a grand colonnaded portico at one end. High above, there are three square cut windows, with a tombstone in the central opening, making sure that the spirit doesn’t wander too far away. The interiors are quite large and even have a greek inscription dated to 447 AD. The Byzantines, made this a church and even added some typical arches in the lower levels. In the late afternoon, this is a great place to hang out and watch the setting sun.

Around these tombs, is a great place to indulge in some amateur archaeology. There are bits of pottery jutting out from under the sand. Scrape a little and find some tantalizingly beautiful shards of jars and pots. My mom truly celebrates her birthday, sifting through the sands. The rains do most of the work, exposing tranches of ancient domesticity. Pottery shards are for sale in the trinket stalls, but we go rogue and gather greedily. There are ridged shards and some delicate orange fragments. It’s a nice little haul.

Tracing our footsteps back towards the theater, we proceed to the Great Temple. Built over several levels, this is one of the few free standing structures. I learn new words like “Temenos”. Archaeologists probably won’t admit it, but the simple truth is that we don’t know enough of most of the structures here. There are walls with tantalizing bits of painted plaster. Four rather worn off elephant heads decorate some capitals appearing like bats without their trunks. You are free to clamber up the ruins and imagine what you may. It’s all Greek-Romany, with the odd oriental elephant head is what I gather. We are all amateurs here.

The Nabateans remain mysterious. They emerged from the haze of Arabia, got rich with trade and built beautifully unique tombs and a sprawling city. Their descent back to common peasantry, by the time the muslims arrived followed years of mediocrity under the romans. Flirting with christianity in the early 5th century was a brief interlude that did not change their luck much. Only their tombs remain, their bare interiors give no easy clues. Dushara waits for a sacrifice.