NAVIGATING THE KINGDOM OF PEACE
My Journey in Jordan
BY RITCHIE II, ALL-TERRAIN GUIDE DOG,
AS TOLD TO MARIE AND CHRIS STARK
My name is Ritchie and I am two-and-a-half years old. I have been trained extensively and now work as an all-terrain navigator. The main duties in my job description involve being constantly on call to guide a person who is blind.
When I learned that I was assigned to guide a government employee, Chris Stark, I thought I would have a quiet working life of sleeping under a desk. However, in the months since my graduation from Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind, I have not stopped travelling. I have been on buses, airplanes, trains, boats and subway cars, in hotels and restaurants, and even on a stage in front of hundreds of people. I have had to eat my meals at unusual times and in strange places such as airports. For me, jet lag is thinking it is suppertime in the middle of the morning.
Not long ago, I was lying comfortably under the desk when I started to hear of a big trip to Jordan, which is seven time zones away. I would be called on not only to fly across the Atlantic Ocean without going to the bathroom, but also to cross the Mediterranean Sea. I would have to be very careful to not sniff or lick anyone, because many people in Jordan are not comfortable around dogs like me. Because of the strife in Israel, I thought we might get out of this arduous trip, but the suggestion that we might not come was met with consternation and declarations that Jordan is the Kingdom of Peace. We were told, “You must come, you will be welcome.”
So, the serious planning started. Since there were no laws to guarantee me access to public places in Jordan, a letter in Arabic was obtained from the Jordanian Embassy in Ottawa. They not only wrote a very nice letter for me, but even offered to stamp my international health certificate, my vaccination certificate and my guide dog license. Now I had really official-looking documents that were as impressive as those carried by diplomats. Since I do not have a passport, I felt a bit better having official stamps on my travel documents.
Arrangements were made to have the Canadian Embassy in Amman assist us with the formalities upon arrival. Because of concerns about my acceptance in taxis, I had special transportation arrangements. Munir negotiated with the Grand Hyatt Hotel to make sure I had a place to sleep. Debbie at Rider Travel searched carefully for the flight route that would be best for me. I take comfort in my routines, so we had to plan a schedule that would allow me to eat and digest my meals between flights. The trip lasted too long for me to go without food. Anyway, I cannot focus on my work when I am ravenously hungry.
My journey to the Kingdom of Peace began with a two-hour bus ride on the big blue KLM bus to Montreal. Once we boarded the plane, I slept all the way to Amsterdam, where I had my breakfast in the middle of Schiphol Airport amidst large crowds of people rushing by and speaking many languages I had never heard before. Strange sounds and scents were everywhere.
During our stopover in Holland, in order to answer a call of nature I had to officially enter Holland, and leave the country to get back to the airplane. My partner’s passport was stamped 16 times during our Holland visit.
At first, the staff of Royal Jordanian Airlines was hesitant about letting me in the cabin of the aircraft. However, I was allowed on board after the captain, who liked dogs, was consulted. I was told that I was the first guide dog to travel on Royal Jordanian Airlines. Safely on board, I settled down for another five-hour flight. I woke up once to find my partner gone. I didn’t worry because Laurel, my partner’s colleague, sat with me and patted my head. She had come to sit with me so I wouldn’t be alone while my partner received “special treatment” by being able to go to the washroom.
When we arrived in Amman it was dark. A representative from the Canadian Embassy met us at the airport and he made short work of entrance formalities. However, I needed a place to relieve myself. There was no spot at the airport, so we drove out searching for a suitable location. We stopped at the side of the road, but the smells were so different, I was not able to do what I needed to do. The request for a grassy site was met with the unequivocal statement that “there is no grass in Jordan.” When we arrived at the hotel we searched again, all around the back and sides of the building. There was nothing but concrete, which smelled uninviting to me. This was a crisis. We were tired, I had to relieve myself — and then the clerk at the check-in counter tried to charge extra for me. He finally understood when it was explained that I am not a pet but a mobility aid, and it is unacceptable to charge people extra for any mobility aid, be it a wheelchair or a guide dog.
We waited in the lobby for Laurel. I was very uncomfortable and my ears were drooping. A half-hour later, she arrived and we found a solution. Outside the front door, there was a decorative oasis with palm trees — and blessed grass.
I was soon comfortable, and we settled in for a long sleep in yet another new bedroom. For the next week when anyone would ask, “Where are you going?”, the response, “To the palm trees,” resulted in a knowing nod. I had not been shown to the oasis at first because people thought I would offend. However, no one objected that week. We always picked up and I never once had an accident. The oasis was at the centre of everything and I liked to watch life go by during my five stops a day under the palm trees. Many people passing by the oasis would smile a friendly greeting to me.
It was afternoon the next day when we woke up. It was time for me to work. At first, people wanted to take us everywhere. Gradually they learned that this was my job. I learned the route from the elevator to our room, the way to the dining room and the route to the meeting rooms. I already knew the way to the palm trees, where the grass sparkled in the afternoon sunshine.
At first, people worried when we approached the top of stairs or neared a hazard, but soon people began to accept my competence and skill. I stop at the top of stairs. I walk around obstacles. I avoid dangerous hazards. And I place my nose under the door handle or elevator call button so it can be found easily. By the time the Global Summit on Peace through Tourism started the next day, staff had come to trust my work and would not get nervous about my partner’s safety each time we walked by a danger — such as the opened hotel entry door, which jutted into the path of travel.
There were some things we had to get used to. Elevator buttons did not have Braille or tactile markings. We had to find another solution. Counting down the row of buttons was necessary in order to find the button for the lobby, the conference centre or the floor on which our room was located. There were also no tactile markings on the wall by the elevator door to tell us the floor number. At first we took many wrong turns, but we gradually found solutions for these gaps in accessibility that we take for granted at home. It was explained that many multi-national American corporations cut corners in their five-star hotels abroad, failing to follow the standards required at home by the Americans with Disabilities Act. This seemed to be a source of disappointment for many people we met from abroad. They were dismayed that access is not being implemented when new hotels are built by knowledgeable corporations. They called this practice exploitation.
I have a very delicate stomach so I drank bottled water to avoid any problems. One night, Laurel took us on a walk to buy bottled water. I had to really concentrate on my work because of the many obstacles. There are big holes in the sidewalks, and the hills in Amman have steep slopes and drop-offs as well as hazards such as signs and poles on the walkways. There are many free-roaming cats in Amman, which would tease me and try to distract me. At first I found it very difficult because there are so many of them, but a gentle command or two helped me refocus, hold my head high and march by those cats with haughty disdain. After all, I am a professional navigator.
Later in the week, we had to make the same journey by ourselves for more bottled water. We had a bit of trouble crossing the streets because drivers do not yield for pedestrians. A shop owner, noticing my difficulty, sent his boy and his friends to help us home. At each intersection on the way back to the hotel, they blocked the traffic for me to cross. A policeman came by, and when he understood what was happening, he joined in. It was quite a spectacle as the Amman traffic was parted for me to lead the way back to the hotel. It was the first of several royal processions for me.
I befriended a real live prince, who even took me for a ride in the royal limousine. It turns out that His Royal Highness Prince Raad Bin Zeid is Jordan’s patron of person with disabilities. Because the Global Summit on Peace through Tourism had embraced disability issues, His Royal Highness had agreed to chair the sessions on tourism for persons with disabilities.
It was a great honour for the entire summit to have the participation of a member of the royal family. His presence lent stature and credibility to the message of inclusion that the speakers with disabilities brought to the attention of delegates. The prince arranged for Jordanians with disabilities to attend the presentations. We met many other Jordanians with disabilities, who shared their experiences and expertise with us.
I blushed when His Royal Highness publicly declared in front of all those people at the seminar how impressed he was with my work. I was overwhelmed when he said that “Jordanians need to find a way to look beyond the social stigma of dogs so that Jordanians who are blind can benefit from the independence, safety and freedom provided by professionals like Ritchie.”
The Prince was very interested in how I worked and what I could do. Every day, my vocabulary grew: “Follow the Prince” was a new command I learned to recognize. As a sign of respect for people with disabilities, the Prince declined his seat at the head table and sat with us. This kind gesture was formally recognized by the luncheon speaker. I lay quietly beside the Prince throughout that long luncheon. When my partner was served a large piece of meat and asked Laurel to cut it, the Prince intervened and cut the meat. For the next few days, people would approach and greet us — because my partner had a new notoriety as “the man, with the dog, whose meat was cut by the prince.”
Highlights of the summit included the poignant message from Nelson Mandela read to the delegates. He wrote in part:
“Conflict, violence, warfare and instability still plague too many parts of our world. The suffering inflicted, and more often than not on the most vulnerable sectors of society, demeans all of us as humanity. That it is invariably women, children, the aged and disabled who suffer in these conflicts stands up to the added shame of mankind.
“We so often speak of globalization with reference only to the opening of markets, the removal of trade barriers and the free flow of goods and finances. The free flow of people and ideas, the unfettered exposure of different cultures and customs to each other should be an equally important aspect of the globalized world, of the global village we so often refer to. Tourism has become the primary vehicle for the promotion of such exchange. In the process, peace and harmony amongst people and nations are served.”
I participated in an interfaith service at Bethany on the Jordan near the Dead Sea. The sun and the moon could be seen in the sky at the same time. The singing of the children’s choir was lovely. Afterwards, the children from many lands came over and said hello at me. A journalist on a six-month study assignment with the English-language Jordan Times Newspaper recognized us as fellow Canadians because of the label on the plastic bag in which my water and bowl were carried.
A co-presenter was a wheelchair user from the Republic of South Africa. We visited Jerash with him, and I followed his wheelchair around those ancient Roman ruins. At guide dog school I had been trained to walk on cobbled streets, so I skilfully adapted and navigated the best route by finding the smoothest cobble stones to walk on. On his voyage to Jordan the South African gentleman’s wheelchair had been destroyed by the airline, which had been unable to provide a replacement. So, during the man’s stay in Jordan, he used a very uncomfortable hotel wheelchair. At our farewell meeting with Prince Raad Bin Zeid, a wheelchair was presented to the visitor from South Africa as a gift from the people of Jordan, to help him get home more comfortably. My partner and I received an autographed picture of our lunch with the Prince.
This was a sad time as we bid farewell to all our new Jordanian friends. My fear of being unwelcome in Jordan had been as unfounded as all the other stereotypes about disability we know so well. Even when touring on our own and arriving unannounced, we had been well treated and warmly welcomed. The Kingdom of Peace is a lovely place, with friendly and hospitable people. I met many Jordanians who wanted to get to know me. I enjoyed the dialogue. I speak the universal language of friendship with my eyes and wagging tail, and I always look professional.
At midnight, we left for the airport. The security staff at the airport entrance wanted to know where my “cage” was. They did not accept that I would travel in the aircraft cabin. They weren’t going to let me pass — until my partner informed them that the King had said I was to travel in the aircraft cabin. My partner even invited them to call Prince Raad Bin Zeid at the number on his official card, which he had given to us. Security staff decided not to call the Prince at one o’clock in the morning. I was told to follow an airline person, and we were on our way.
Six hours later, I was entering Holland again to use the grass in the airport park. A lovely lady helped us buy a few souvenirs, and we were on our way again. Thirty-one hours after I left the hotel in Amman, I was in my own back yard playing with Zena, guide dog, and Quincey, retired guide dog.
I have a sense of accomplishment. My professionalism helped encourage delegates to include a strong reference to the accommodation of persons with disabilities. The summit’s final communiqué, The Amman Declaration, proclaimed in part:
“The right of people to travel is a fundamental human right which should be exercised without undue restriction, including the facilitation of travel for those with disabilities and special needs.”