Friday, May 28, 2010

The Memories, or Part 3 of my Final Post


I really want to remember my address (FB 1-9) and my phone number (+974 783 7494), so I'll put them here for posterity.

But beyond that, here are a few of my favorite memories:



My best New Year's ever, in Istanbul.


The first night I hung out with the people that would become my closest friends. Also one of the first times I had karak. Also, the day that I got my nickname, Corniche.

My walk with some of the other exchange students along the Corniche
, and how uncomfortable we were bargaining. Not any more, my friend! Best price?



Constantly going to Bandar and getting karak. Or going out and getting shawarma.

My roadtrip around Qatar
.



Going to Maya's for the first time. (Also the day that Hillary Clinton came to CMU-Q!)

Those are the memories that stick out, but even as I was going through the posts and trying to find the links, I saw other days that I loved and am so glad I blogged about so I can remember them.

Because, while I love all of you, my dear readers... this blog was for me. I learned to say "yes!" to activities when I thought I didn't have enough time, just to get some fodder for this blog. I analysed and reflected more on my experiences when I went to write about them. Yes, this blog will be a time capsule of my time in and around Qatar.

I have become slightly addicted to blogging, and, while I doubt it will be daily, I'll start another one. Here is your link to continue checking me out: corinnewalters.blogspot.com.

The Good, or Part 2 of my Final Post

With all of the critiques I had of Middle Eastern societies in my last blog post, I would have to say I admire Qatar and other countries for many reasons as well.

Qatar, especially, has impressed me with their initiative and forward-thinking. They are reinvesting their oil money, not in big buildings or mosques, but in education, medicine, the arts, and culture; it is the spirit and mentality of Qatar that they are improving.

In addition to the country's investments, I think that CMU-Q has a lot of money, staff, and desire that help it put together better programs, more popular speakers, and well-funded events that I appreciated.


I was much more likely to go to events as well. I didn't have many commitments (besides uni and TAing), so I could be flexible with my free time. I also could nearly guarantee that, even if I didn't know anyone that was going, when I got there, there were always familiar faces.


Which leads me to one of the things I loved about CMU-Q: the size and connectedness. I was able, in my short time there, to meet a lot of people and staff and faculty and connet with them. I think, because the campus is so small, people are a lot more friendly with newcomers than in Pittsburgh because it is almost guaranteed that you will run into them again. The class sizes are small, so the teaching and pace are tailored to the class. A question is always thoroughly investigated and taken seriously in the classroom, and due dates are slightly more flexible.


In the larger culture, the trend is for families to be extremely close. I rarely heard of the typical mother-daughter spats that I've heard in the US; instead, girls would say that their mothers are their best friends. Brothers would watch out for their sisters (for better or for worse), and there was a support structure that made earlier marriages permissible and well-supported.


In a culture like that, friendships also grow strong. While I guess that the small size of the campus had something to do with it, it is also how people view friendships. They are investing in your life, so they give you advice, check up on you, and do really great favors. A different flavor of friendship than what I am used to.


While travelling, I did appreciate how friendly people were toward me, especially when it came to advice and directions. Sometimes, things got a bit carried away (and you can never trust a taxi driver), but for the most part, anyone who spoke English was willing to help me.


I think there is a saying about food and good company, but that is truly what I had in Qatar. (A little too much food... but never enough good company!) I would encourage anyone to study abroad, push their boundaries, especially in a place with so many myths and misconceptions, and get to know that the world is bigger than they think.

The Different, or Part 1 of my Final Post


I've done some other reflection pieces, but just talking to my family last night over dinner (at Outback Steakhouse... welcome back to America with Australian chain food), I came to some other realizations, especially reasons why I was so excited to come back home.

This past week alone in Turkey has been very trying because being a girl travelling alone means you are a bit of a target for men (if you couldn't tell by my repeated blog posts about my interactions with them). It was also hard not knowing when your next conversation would be, and for me, being a social person, I hated thinking I wouldn't get a chance to talk to someone about my day or what I thought. The internet and instant messaging helped immensely, but it's not quite like face-to-face interaction.

Another reason that I am happy to be back in the US is the culture, especially the culture related to women. In the Middle East, in the Gulf region definitely, there is a prevalent thought that a women's sphere is the home and that the men's sphere is outside it. This leads to a wonderfully family-centric society where you only see women out and about (1) with their families or (2) shopping with their servants or friends. Arab women travelling are nearly unheard of, unless they are with their families. Women travelling (the way I did, at least, with a lot of contact with the locals) in the Middle East are another rarity. So I always stuck out.

Beside just sticking out for my actions and attitude, I stuck out in my dress. As a Western, I never had to cover my head except for inside mosques. But I still had often have my shoulders and knees covered. On hot days, it wasn't always nice. And, while dress is a personal choice, I felt like I often had to second guess what was appropriate or not: something I'm not used to doing here in the US!

Speaking of appropriate, what appropriate physical touch was vastly different too! Here, I wouldn't hesitate hugging male or female friends and shaking hands with everyone. There are couples making out in public here, so no one is going to notice a hug. Around the Middle East (with the exception of Turkey, where there was some PDA), some women didn't even want to shake hands with men. Men would walk hand in hand, as would couples, but patrolmen would find it suspicious if a couple was sitting too close, and kissing in public was out of the question. I never knew how guys interpreted the hugs I accidentally gave them either. In America, a hug pretty much means nothing but that you are friends. But in a culture where a handshake might not be allowed, a hug could get misinterpreted.

It was nice getting back to a country where I understood the language, too. In all of the countries, it was pretty easy getting around with English (or with someone who knew the language), however, I missed being able to strike up a random conversation with someone I was standing in line with. I also missed being able to listen in on conversations, understanding signs, and reading advertisements and newspapers.

However, the prevalence of English was nice, but the prevalence of American fast-food restaurants was not. I've heard that obesity and diabetes are increasing in the Middle East. They have a less active lifestyle (lots of driving and elevators) since a few months of the year it is very hot. (I still think this shouldn't affect the rest of the year when it is a wonderful time to be outside and being active!) But I think the change in diet to the new, fast, evil food that is available for delivery might have something to do with it too. I mean, really, delivery for McDonald's? And KFC, and Burger King, and every pizza place...

My final reason for wanting to go home was the difference in the culture in terms of hired labor. In Qatar, and many other Middle Eastern countries, the "haves" employ the "have-nots" as servants: nannies, drivers, cooks, maids, security guards. It is both a way to alleviate the pressures on a large household (since many have quite a handful of children) and a way to "give back" by providing people with jobs. This spreads, however, and I think has created a mentality I don't agree with. I heard from other exchange students in the dorms that their roommates didn't know how to clean. Or possibly they just felt that it was beneath them or that someone else was going to do it or they didn't want to bother themselves? Whatever the reason, many had roommates that didn't clean up after themselves to the point of neglect, with rotting food, bugs, and scummy bathrooms.

This continues into the public sector. Littering is just giving the garbage men something to clean; busing your tray in the mall is denying the workmen a job. For me, clearing your tray doesn't mean that you've taken a job. They still must empty the trash, clean the tray, wipe down the table, mop, and a million other little things. It is simply polite for me to do my small part.

Since I've listed some of the "bad" (different) things about the Middle East and its attitudes, I'll have to redeem myself (and prove that I had a wonderful time!) with another post on what I loved and wished I had back here in the States.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Sweet Dreams, or Day 20 of the Epic May Adventure


I almost can't believe it.

I'm home. I'm safe. And the jet-lag is catching up to me, which I why I'm exhausted.

It'll have to be tomorrow, when I post that last of my pictures, edit the last of my posts, and say goodbye to this blog.

Sweet dreams until then.



Updates:


So yesterday, when I posted this, I had fallen asleep on my bed with my laptop open, trying to write the post. That was as far as I got after I woke up enough to type it, then brush my teeth and sleep.


But what really happened during my 34-hour-long day was this.


It started at 6am, Turkish time, when I woke up at the five-star hotel, jumped in the shower, then had a cup of tea before taxi-ing to the airport.


On the first flight, I read a book (yay, book trades in hostels), did some sudoku, and watched the world go by for four hours.


We landed at Heathrow, and I had four hours before my next flight. But I was determined to see my friend studying abroad there, Audra. She had clued me in about some filming they were doing at King's Cross, so, when I got to downtown London after an hour on the tube, I was a bit early for our meeting so I stopped by.


There wasn't much to see, just a small crowd with Harry Potter books and cameras. I stayed for ten minutes, just in case Daniel Radcliffe showed his face, but no beans.


So I hopped back a few stations to meet up with Audra! We got to see each other for just over ten minutes while I waited for the right train back to Heathrow. It worked out, just barely, and I made it back for my flight with minutes to spare, but it was great seeing a high school friend for the first time in months!

The ten-hour flight next to a couple from northern England was pretty good. A few movies, a two-hour catnap, and a good meal equals a good flight.


So with a two-hour time difference to London, than an eight-hour time difference to Seattle, when I landed around five, it was more like 3am. I got through dinner just fine, made it home to unpack a bit and chat, but at 10pm (8am Turkish time), as you could tell from the beginning of this post, I was done for the day. My last day. My final day. My first day of being home.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Surprise!, or Day 19 of the Epic May Adventure


Whoever decided to call this the "Epic May Adventure" (*cough* Abdalla *cough*) cursed me with endless excitements to my trip.

This morning started off nice enough. I got up in time to spend an hour at the Turkish Islamic Arts Museum, staring at rugs and porcelain.

I get to the airport at 11:30 or so, 2.5 hours early for the flight I'm supposed to be on. Last night I looked at the strike details, checked my e-mail, and looked to see the status of the flight number I had for the Istanbul-London flight, and it was still running just fine.

I didn't check the London-Seattle flight... the fact that it was canceled might have tipped me off.

So I get to the airport, pick up my bag, try to check in... and the guy at the counter says that I'm not on this flight. That I missed my flight. That my flight was 8am this morning.

No way, I say. I have this piece of paper that shows my flight as being at 2pm. I wasn't notified of anything!

Well, he says. Let's get this fixed.

So, with me close to tears (what is it about airports and me crying these days?), I go over and they booked me a flight for tomorrow morning. That will get into Seattle (insh'Allah) at 16:45.

Meanwhile, another lady who also got screwed by them and I are spending the day at a nice 5-star hotel. We ate at the lunch buffet, then I decided to chill for a while before trying to hit the pool. (The hotel is pretty darn far from the rest of Istanbul, so I'm not going to even try to do any sight-seeing, which is for the best.)

I get to the pool, and they charge me $3.50 (5 TL) for a swim cap that I'm required to wear but that doesn't fit on my head. I just took a long bath instead and moped.

Yes. I am not in a good mood. I posted on Facebook that I'd rather be traveling stuck between the fattest, sweatiest people than be here. And after five months of being away from home (and only having a handful of days back in Washington before jetting off to Pittsburgh), one day does make a difference.

But I'll keep looking on the bright side, if I must. We had a lovely dinner on the top floor, looking at the sunset and finishing with a delicious fried banana dessert. I might get a chance to see a friend in London now that my stopover is four hours instead of two.

And I get a huge room and bathroom all to myself. It could be much worse... but I would rather be home.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Dyslexia, or Day 18 of the Epic May Adventure

Arrived in İstanbul early this morning on a night train. Still loving the transportation and sleeping accommodations (though an upright chair isn't the best bed...)

Found a hostel for a little more than I wanted to pay, but I get this free internet, so life is still good.

I spent quite a while this morning updating the blog, then went to say hi to the Blue Mosque. Afterward, I needed to make my way to Beşiktaş to try to meet a friend from Cappadocia at the Dolmabahçe Palace. In the guidebook, it mentioned that there was a route from Eminönü (a pretty close ferry doc) to Ortaköy (on the Asian side) and a route from Ortaköy to Beşiktaş. So I decided to pop over to Asia for lunch.

It was a bustling shopping district, and I found a lokantası, or cafeteria-type restaurant, to eat at. The good thing is that they are much classier than cafeterias, with bread on the table and tableclothes and stuff. So I went up to the display part with my waiter (since I couldn't understand anything on the menu) and got some eggplant, mutton, and cheese dish and a green salad. Set me back $10, but it kept me going for quite a while.

So I took the ferry from Ortaköy to Beşiktaş, and walked to Dolmabahçe Palace. Where I waited. And napped. And never did meet up with my friend (he was stuck in traffic, as I learned later.)

The palace was elaborate, and huge. We saw only half in our one-hour guided tour, and I probably saw another quarter by myself. It was commissioned in 1854 and finished in 13 years. During that period, the oil and pastel paintings were being done by the Europeans, so most of the artwork was from Europe. The whole palace was very European, with 'elements of Roccoco, Baroque, and Neo-Classical' (as the guide said) mixed in with a bit of Turkish flavor.



It's layout was very Turkish. The 'harem', or family chambers, were separated by guards from the public spaces. Just like at the Topkapı Palace, the queen-mother's apartment was between the sultan's and his wives' and concubines'. Always the mother with control...



As I was walking out from the gardens (after some dondurma, of course), and all of a sudden, a guy starts talking to me in frantic English. He is Yugoslavian (I think) but loves İstanbul ('İstanbul, I love you'). He has gotten offers from around the world to dance, but had a day off today. And apparently thought I had 'charisma' (one of his favorite English words to throw around... that and 'big boys', meaning people with lots of power or money).



He entices me with talk of a beach, and I follow. Pretty soon, I'm on his arm... then holding his hand... but he assures me, 'Friends! No I love you. No husband.'

We end up at Ortaköy, a little preppy section of İstanbul, and he leds me around for a bit, then insisting on taking a picture. At this point, I've resolved to dump the guy at the first chance, and when he starts walking again, I say no and stay.

(He went on this rant that had 'bayan' in it a lot. Bayan means women, so I think he was cursing my whole gender... at least he left after that.)

So, I wander, shop, get a waffle loaded with chocolate and friuts, then slowly attempt to get back to the hostel. The roads were so crowded that I walked to the first ferry dock, then hopped on a boat for 'Kadaköy.'

I read it as Karaköy. Well, I ended up at Kadaköy, wherever that is. When I got there, and couldn't find the light rail, I hopped on another ferry to Eminünö, which I did read correctly. So eventually I got back to the hostel safe and sound... with only one other Turkish guy deciding that my 'heels were nice' and plucking at my jean cuffs as I went up some stairs.


I love you, foreign men, but I'm excited to not have to deal with you... back to America tomorrow!

Monday, May 24, 2010

Updated and No Longer Quick, or Day 17 of the Epic May Adventure

Thıs ıs fast because I had a dınner to get and a
bus to catch back to Istanbul but I'll update you all tomorrow
mornıng.


That's what I wrote yesterday as I was racing out the 'door.' (I was at a beach bar, so there really wasn't a door, persay.) I guess I have all of yesterday (Day 17) and the end of Day 16 to update you all on.

Well, Day 16. I was in Izmır and already having an interesting time of it, what with old men and random ferries. After a bit of pushing from friends I was chatting online with at the internet cafe (basically saying, don't waste your short time in Turkey!) and the fact that it was still light out when I emerged from the net cafe, I headed back to the waterfront.

And I was walking along, deciding which seaside cafe or bar to sit down at when, hark!, the lovely tones of English drifted by.

It was a tall black guy with a short Turkish girl. And I acted super creepily. I was walking faster than them, so passed them, but turned around to look back once before finally turning around and introducing myself.

He said I 'looked American' and when I turned around, he figured I was. So, the three of us meadered, got some dondurma (ice cream... of course I would know the Turkish word for ice cream), then watched sunset. We ended up at the same cafe where early I had been doted on by the waiter. He was still around, and after a great conversation with the two of them until pretty late, I hung around and got another cup of free tea. (I had managed to pay for one when I was with the couple, and I left him a tip to 'pay' for this one as well. Which means, of my five cups of tea, I paid for one.) I took a cab back to my hotel and read a bit before bed.

Ok, so Day 17. I wake up and head to the otogar (bus station, which is a bit out of town, so I end up taking another taksı) and catch the first bus to Çeşme.

Çeşme is this pretty port town with one beach (because most people take boat trips along the coast). So I walk to that one beach, am greeted by the attendant(s) and grab this pillowed beachside sitting area. I read, tan, hop in the water, have an Efes beer (the local one), then nap.

When I wake up, I start my book again, but one of the beach attendant guys comes over. He points to one of the other attendant guys. 'He thinks you are pretty. He is 18.' Oh boy.
Well, he comes over then, with the older guy to translate. His name is 'Jimmy' (though spelled differently, with a 'c' for the 'j' sound). Turns out he is actually 20 (as his ID card showed) and he is from Batman, Turkey. (I know, right? There is a city in Turkey named Batman!)
Well, that is about as far as the conversation gets when our translator leaves. So I do whatever I do when faced with a Turkish man who doesn't know English... propose a game of tavla!
So the backgammon board comes out, and first we play this children's game where you basically just have to roll all of the numbers to win. I understand why when we finally play real backgammon... he's not very good (and doesn't quite know the rules).
So then the bartender comes over, and he knows a bit of English. So he asks the usual questions... 'What's your name?', 'Where are you from?', 'Do you have a boyfriend?'
Sigh. Those Turkish guys. He then asked something along the lines of 'Do you need love?' then propositioned me for sex. I'm so glad his limited vocabulary includes those words (in addition to some English curses, too). (What are they teaching at English schools these days?!)
Anyway, I play some tavla with the bartender guy. He was better, but let's just say, I haven't lost a backgammon game since I came back into Turkey.
Well, ready for the dramatic portion of the day? I walk over to the bar, attendant-who-fancies-me gives me a dondurma, and bartender is called over by a British photographer.
The photographer works for some Swedish (I think) magazine called 'Near and Far-flenzueng' or something, and wants to take pictures of me and bartender being a cute couple in one of the houses on the beach (look in the background of the picture of me, and you'll see the house-things I'm talking about).
So he has his arm around me, we stare off at the sea, and the photographer chats with me about economic policy and the volcano. A-w-f-m is in the background, getting jealous.
So after the photo shoot, bartender and attendant have a bit of a spat. Probably something like:

Attendant: You had your arm around her! And you were holding her hand! I saw her first!

Bartender: Dude, it was just a photo. Though she is pretty cute.

Attendant: No! Not okay! (stomps off)

So at this point, what's a girl to do? So I give the attendant a little attention, he invites me to dinner and to walk me to my bus, and we have a very interesting time trying to spend 45 minutes having a conversation when we don't know each other's language.
He does know 'I love you' and used it a few times, as well as drawing hearts on the pad of paper I pulled out. Another broken heart I'm going to leave in my wake...
(Just a note about the first post of this: On a Turkish keyboard, the 'ı' is where the 'i' is on an English keyboard, which makes it hard to type fast. We were online at the outdoor bar, becoming Facebook friends and I decided to let the world know that I was alive. Also, I've added pictures to a few of my previous posts. You can look at all of my blog pictures here.)

Sunday, May 23, 2010

I Is In Izmır, or Day 16 of the Epic May Adventure

These old men. Gotta love them... until they get a bit creepy.

So I hopped off the train this morning in Izmır, checked into a hotel, then headed toward the water. I would call it the 'corniche' but appears that I'm not in the Arabic-speaking world anymore.

Well, there I am, walking along the waterfront, when someone starts talking to me in Turkish. I am blending in now, since nearly everyone wears Western clothes and there isn't too much of a distinctive 'Turk' look that is prevalent around here.

Anyway, someone starts talking to me in Turkish, and it is this friendly-faced, white-haired, grandfatherly man. He (and most Turks) apparently know the word 'tourist' so we get that out there. Then I pull out my Lonely Planet (which has a useful phrases section in the back) so we attempted (and pretty much fail) at communicating through that.

Well, at some point during this walk and chat, we end up sitting on a park bench, and when a 'çay' man comes around, I have my first cup of tea for the morning.

Well, true to my desires to be an old man (and using the one of the three words in Turkish I know), I say 'tavla' (backgammon). And we are off again! He tucks my arm under his, and we find the nearest tea shop.

I don't think he was letting me win (he never did a bad move on purpose that I saw), but three times in a row I win. That's like my dream, beating an old Turkish guy at his own game.

We split up after that (I was getting a bit uncomfortable with the attention and the lack of English) and I headed to the pier.

I like boats and water and stuff, so I just on a random ferry headed to some town that is basically a suburb of Izmır. And looks like is it the shopping district as well! It was a nice pedestrian street with shops all along it and throngs of people. Someone told me today was a holiday (never figured out if it actually was) but there was a lot of the high school crowd there so I wouldn't be surprised.

Spent a lot of time walking, a little time getting my shoes repaired (remember those red sandals I love? The sole was falling off... but no longer! Glued back on for 5 TL or $3.50). With repaired shoes, I could walk all the more!

Had my first döner kabob since I've been in Turkey (similar to a shwarma, so of course I loved it) and hopped on the ferry back.

At which point I wandered up and down the waterfront, having a brief conversation with two Englishmen here for work, a waiter dote on me in a cafe where I got ice cream (and my third cup of tea paid for by a man today...), and some spatters of rain. (When I say 'dote', he noticed I got cold and put my scarf on so he brought over a blanket... wasn't that sweet? Probably should've stuck around for a conversation...) I have a few more books to last me through the evening if I decide to stay in, but the weather has gotten a bit better... so time to venture again!

(Also, for those of you tracking my progress, I think I'll head to Çeşme tomorrow and stay there for the night then head to Istanbul Tuesday morning, but I haven't looked at bus schedules at all, so we'll see what tomorrow brings!)

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Too Much Coincidence, or Day 15 of the Epic May Adventure




On days like today, I just know someone is watching out for me.

Last night, I met two girls who were studying abroad in Istanbul. What university were they studying at? Turns out, the same one where my friend from Cappadocia is studying! It is a small, traveling world. So I went on the dolmus (bus) to Ephesus this morning with them.

Speaking of a small, travelling world, when I went out for dinner tonight, I pop into a Turkish pizza place. And lo and behold, there was a family I met in Goreme! We spent at least three hours over dinner talking, and this with their 7- and 10- year-olds there too! A very nice and well-behaved family. And another bit of luck. I did not have to dine alone.

Not only where their nice people from my past popping up, but there were a couple new faces that I appreciated. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Ephesus. The most well-preserved Roman city. It was just two kilometers long, so I covered it leisurely in just a few hours, but there were some great arches, intricate carvings, and gradiose structures.

I was blown away by the size of the theatre, probably because there was not a mountain (like there was in Petra) to dwarf it. The streets were paved and had a sewer system through the city. I listened in on a tour and learned that there was an ´eternal flame´ that the monks were responsible for keeping lit as well.

Once I had finished looking around Ephesus (or Efe, in Turkish), I started walking. It was a pretty narrow road, but it was not too far back to Selchuk.

However, that is when my next bout of good luck trotted up. A man and his son in their horse-drawn carriage were headed to the Grotto of the Seven Sleepers (which was on the way), and they offered a nice free ride. We trotted through pretty orchards, past a man selling nectarines, and to the grotto.

The story goes something like seven persecuted Christians hid in this cave to escape, but instead were buried alive by their pursuers. When an earthquake hit a few centuries later, they emerged from their sleep and went down to the village, where they gained a cult following. A temple was then built at the sight of their cave.

By the cave were some gozeleme (a pancake-crepe thing) restaurants. I stepped in one, had a savoury spinach-and-cheese... and that is when the rain started.

I felt a bit cooped up in there (aka, there was not anyone to talk to), but I lasted through the rain with my complimentary cup of tea and started walking again.

And another stranger did me a favor. An empty tour bus headed for Ephesus picked me up and dropped me off at Selchuk, which was a few kilometers out of his way. Sometimes, being an adventurous single woman has its advantages.

Did I mention that I happened to visit Selchuk on Saturday, which is their market day? It was huge and bustling, and reminded me of farmer´s markets last summer in California. But it was not just produce... there were streets of clothing, alleys of jewelry and perfumes, and cheeses and sweets in their own sections as well!

It was still only 2:00pm at this point, so I decided a quick jaunt to neighboring Sirince would be nice. (While I was on the bus, it drizzled... Success avoiding the rain again!)

Sırınige is a little Greek village that has been taken over by tourism, so its few streets were packed with stalls. The daisy crown was being sported by many of the tourists, and lace was one of their crafts. Their other? Making fruit wine.

I got to sip a few, but they were pretty strong and pretty sweet (almost like liquor). It was not quite the wine I like, but it helped me wile away an afternoon.

On getting back to Selchuk, I ran into one of the managers from my hostel, and I poked around looking at bus times to Izmır, which I was thinking of heading to this evening.

But I curled up on the couch at the hostel with a book, and since my stuff is still here, looks like I will be spending another night here. My evening entertainment (before dinner) was an Australian couple and a New Zealand couple who brought in OJ and vodka to share. We heard military stories from the hostel manager (since service is compulsory around here) and the Turkish side of the Kurdish-Turkish issue.

Though I was really lonely this afternoon, I was lucky to find people. Though today´s luck seem like an awful lot of coincidences...

Friday, May 21, 2010

Not in The Gulf Anymore, or Day 14 fo the Epic May Adventure


Well, I started writing this then the power flickered. So I lost a paragraph or two... here it goes again:

I started the day pretty darn early, about 5am when the first bus dropped us off to take the shuttle into Pamukkale. We jumped off the shuttle and a hotel manager immediately invited us to use his facilities, which included free internet. I paid a bit much for the breakfast, but I felt like I should pay them back for letting us put our luggage there.

I started climbing the travertines around 8am, and I was still a bit chilly when I reached the top. The travertines are calcium deposits that look a lot like frozen waterfalls. More volcanic leftovers.

Well, at the top, people were already out in full force in bikinis. And, like I was told, they were all modelling up a storm. When a Turkish woman came by in long skirts and headscarves, it completed the picture. What is completely inappropriate in every country I´ve been to in the last 4 months was on full display around here. Not in the gulf anymore.

I poked around the Roman ruins for a while, and a older guy approached me for some conversation. I ended up with a novel of his in my inbox: it is about a 21-year-old seducing and travelling with a 56-year-old. He was about 56. I´m 21. That hit a bit close to home (especially since he is also from Washington State... creepy).

It was an afternoon in the sun (my complexion is already ´´ruined´´) and then, after spending a bit too much on yogurt (I love that stuff), I headed back to the hostel to relax for an hour or two before my bus. That´s when it started raining. Then the power went out.

I picked up a book, ran into the novelist again, then boarded my bus. I apparently only had a reservation, not a true ticket, but I managed to get on the ´´full´´ bus anyway. (It wasn´t full at all.)

The hostel picked me up (so I didn´t have to walk in the rain!) and ran into some classmates of the guy that I went to Cappadocia with! A chat and some apple tea, and I´ll maybe I wıll make it to bed early for Ephesus tomorrow.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Up, Up, and Away, or Day 13 of the Epic May Adventure



Somehow, I lucked out!

This post is a day late since yesterday my tour went right up until I had to get on my night bus to Pamukkale. But it was another great day.

I was up at 5:00am to for Try #2 of hot air ballooning. There were some people that left the hostel the day before that had been waiting for a clear day for nearly a week, but didn't have any luck.

We got to the launch site, and they had coolers of hot water for tea and coffee and tea biscuits. They were inflating the balloons, so I was already much happier than the day before, when the balloons hadn't even been unloaded.

Me, two Chilean girls I have been hanging out with, and a two other women were put into one of the quarters of the hot air balloon basket. The basket was split in two by where the pilot stood, then each of those halves was split again, so there were four quarters at the fourn corners and a strip in the middle for the pilot. Each quarter held five people; I was lucky again, since the four other people were small women. The men in the quarter next to us were a little more squished.

We took off, and I could just see the pink of the sunrise over the mountains. The light was hitting the rock formations dramatically, even with all the (omnious) clouds in the sky. It is really peaceful when the pilot isn't using the loud burner to heat up the air... just floating along.

And we weren't the only ones floating. About 45 minutes into the trip, the pilot asked us if we wanted to go up or down. The basket decided up, and up we went! We reached 1000 meters, where the wind was much chillier (thank goodness for the warm windbreaker I borrowed from the hostel) and also moving more slowly and in a different direction. While we were up there I counted 22 balloons that were underneath us. Just the ones that I could see!

While we were up there, the clouds were coming towards us as well. I thought they looked like rain clouds, but someone else didn't think so... until water started to run off the balloon. It was a drizzle, then a rain, and it was fascinating seeing rain fall from above. It started to be a bit uncomfortable when it started running into the basket, and when my shoes got a bit wet, but again, happy for that jacket!

The Chilean girls thought the pilot looked concerned, and we were hanging up in the air for quite a while before descending. Our landing spot was in the middle of a fallow field, and we missed the trailer the first time (a bit too much momentum). But the second time around we landed, then hopped out and were ushered into a SUV they had nearby to huddle out of the rain while our passenger van caught up.

Once in the van, we got champagne (at 7:30 in the morning) and went back to the hostel.

I spent the morning transferring pictures (since I was running out of memory on my camera after a lot of shots in the air!) then took a tour with others from my hostel.

A delicious menemem for breakfast (like a tomato-based omelette), and we hopped in the next passenger van. Efe (also the name of a beer around here) was our tour guide, and he looked 15 (though he told us later he was 25). We first went to an overlook, where he explaned how the layers of soft rock under a volcanic top layer caused the "fairy chimney" formations, since the soft rock is protected by the harder caps.

Then, we traveled to an underground city: eight levels of passageways, rooms, a kitchen, a stable, meeting rooms, and a church (that was closed). All because of Christian persecution. When invading armies would come in, everyone would scurry underground. Some say they could live there for months; our guide thought people would go crazy after a week or 10 days of darkness.

We spent the afternoon hiking through the largest canyon in Turkey (which, if I remember correctly, is 70 meters deep... not quite the Grand Canyon). It was a beautiful poplar forest winding along a small river, with the rocks above us sometimes carved with entrances to seclusion rooms or dovecotes. At the end, we arrived at the end at a little tourist village with a delicious lunch. Nikki (the guy that I followed to Cappadocia) came along as well, and we got to swap stories with two Australian sisters.

After lunch, we were driven out of the canyon (so yes, we only had to walk downhill). However, it was all uphill at the monastry carved into a hill. I did a bit of exploring, but mostly sat and looked at the valley. It reminded me of Austria a bit, but instead of steeples it had minarets.

Some in our group decided to venture ever upwards, and ended up being over ten minutes late back to the bus. Efe punished then by forcing them to buy us all ice cream... if only all punishments could be as sweet.

We stopped at Pigeon Valley (they really like their pigeons/doves around here... though they don't eat them like in Egypt), which was right next to our final destination. We were supposed to get a demostration of onyx working, but I think the workers had left, so we got to "tour" a jewelry store instead.

I got back with enough time to grab my bags, book a hostel in Selchuk (outside Ephesus) for tonight, pay a final visit to my shopkeeper friend Mustafa, and hop on the night bus. It was a gorgeous sunset over the hills, and I think I got enough sleep to keep me charged for my day in Pammukale.

(Sorry for my lack of pictures recently, but each computer I've been on has acted a bit differently. This one is in Turkish, so I don't want to accidentally erase anything. I'll be uploading a bunch when I get home in less than a week, if not sooner if I find some good internet.)

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Old Men, or Day 12 of the Epic May Adventure


I forgot how much I liked Turkey. Old men playing backgammon and rummikub on the streets. I like old men (and they don't mind chatting with a young thing like me either... but no, I will not go have wine with you, thanks anyway.)

So, I guess things work out. Someone is watching out for me, anyhow.

One of the wonders of this modern world is the connectivity that we have. When I was so down yesterday, I got on Facebook, where I asked my cousin to call my dad so he could come online and comfort me. He did a good job, and I remember why I love my family so much (and miss then so much too!)

I went out of the internet cafe, cried in the middle of the "otogar" (bus station parking lot area), then decided to just buckle down and head to Izmir. I checked at one bus company, then another, then saw someone with a Boston sweatshirt on.

Sadly, he was from Turkey, so not interested in tourism, but he gave me some good info about the region.

And when I went inside to buy the ticket to Izmir... lo and behold there was an American guy buying a ticket to Cappadocia!

So I was a creeper and asked if I could come along. So now I'm in Cappadocia.

Last night was an overnight bus, then we checked into a hostel this morning. It is as gorgeous as they say. I was supposed to take a hot-air balloon trip this evening, but they cancelled it. Hopefully tomorrow morning...

Also, did some hiking and looked at the Goreme Open-Air Museum. Both were refreshing.

I think I need to get off because others are waiting, but suffice it to say that my mood is improving.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Sob Story, or Day 11 of the Epic May Adventure

I owe you guys a proper blog, but today is basically the complete opposite of how wonderful yesterday was.



Yesterday, we bought our tickets to Istanbul. Then we went to ``Coptic Cairo``, then we went to actually buy our tickets (the power was out the first time), then we went to the Citadel, then we went up Al Muizz (my favorite part), then a felluca boat ride (where Abdalla got to pretend he was ripping me off... he had fun with that), then a bit of walking through Khan El Khalili. A really good day that I didn`t do justice to.



However all of yesterday, Abdalla got harassed about a visa to get to Turkey.



Today, they wouldn`t let him on the flight.



So I`m flying solo in Turkey.



The flight was gorgeous, the news that Abdalla wasn`t goimg to join me was heart-breaking, and my ATM card not working was icing on the cake.



But, deep breath, and I`ll have a good final week of travelling (hopefully headed to Izmır tonight). Almost home!

Monday, May 17, 2010

It's the Morning Time, or Day 10 of the Epic May Adventure



Well, not much has happened yet today (since it isn't quite 10am yet), but we are at the internet cafe trying to sort out our tickets to leave Cairo tomorrow, hopefully. We want to get to Turkey tomorrow, and it is a bit stressful since, when we checked yesterday, the prices were better than they are this morning. We'll get there eventually.


Yesterday ended pretty much as I thought it would end. We had some dessert at a cafe overlooking the sea and the corniche with Abdalla's friend, then got a ride to bustling market street. After another bit of time hanging out on the corniche, I got chilly with the sea breeze, so we walked back to the train station.


Abdalla slept the whole way back, but the over-air-conditioned car again made me chilly, so I got to listen to the food-hawkers and the loud voices coming from the back of the car. But we made it back safe and sound, for our final day in Cairo (maybe).

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Pigeon and Duck, or Day 9 of the Epic May Adventure


I get to write this from the Bibliotheca Alexandria. The original library. Like, how cool is this?

So, if you haven't guessed, today was our day trip to Alexandria. We took an easy 8am train, got here at 10:45, and have been wandering the city ever since. I got this cute little guide to Alexandria that has a map in it, so we've been following that. However, the scale of the map was a bit deceptive...

We started at the train station, and across the street was the Roman ruins of a odeum. The city was about 30 meters lower than it is now, so the highest level of the small theater was below even street level. They were still doing excavations at the site, and one of the workers saw me taking pictures. He made hand motions for me to take a picture of him, so now I have some random guy with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and posing by his wheelbarrow on my camera. Classy.

Next, the map said about four blocks down, and three blocks over, and we'd be at this library. However, those "four blocks"? About a kilometer.

Thankfully, we had chatted with one of Abdalla's old uni friends about seeing her today, so she called and suggested we look at the Qaitbay Fort before meeting up with her for lunch.

We hopped in a taxi to the Fort, and, with a wonderful, sweet sea breeze, poked around the fort and the walls around it. It was probably about 25C (80F) if not chillier! It was my first look at the Mediterranean Sea. Boys were splashing around in it, men were fishing in it, and us tourists were looking at it from on top of the wall surrounding the fort.

We met up with the friend at these gardens surrounding the summer palace of the President. It was a gorgeous green area, very posh, and our meal was huge and "expensive" (by Egyptian standards... it really only cost about $26 for the three of us.)

We were talking about street food during this meal, since the hawawshi that I had a few nights ago that I loved can be a bit dangerous if bought on the street. The meat could be dog or donkey or whatever else they could grind up.

I heard mention that Egyptians like to eat pigeon, so I mentioned this to them. Both agreed, and didn't even blink an eye. Until I told them that pigeons are considered one of the dirtiest creatures in the U.S. "Flying rats," people call them. They had apparently never heard this before. In fact, they told me, pigeons were a delecacy, similar to how us Americans view ducks. This was amusing to me since when they order a pigeon, it apparently comes with duck too (since one pigeon just isn't enough). We mused about different cultures and their "dirty" animals for a while as we ate our Alexandrian seafood.

Our next stop was here, the Bibliotheca Alexandria, built about 200 meters to the east of the original Library of Alexandria. (The original location is underwater.) It is a modern building, built by a Swedish design firm, with one of the largest open reading rooms in the world. It is a tilted disk with seven floors of chairs and desks and computers (of which, I'm on one). And it, like most other things in Egypt, is filled with people.

The plan for tonight is to go out and watch sunset from near here, then catch the train back at 10:15 to return to Cairo. Insh'allah.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

You Have to be Egyptian, or Day 8 of the Epic May Adventure

We heard from Kelsey's driver last night that the pyramids at Giza opened at 9am (which seems a bit late, but I got to sleep, so that's good). We woke up, had a foul ("fool", kinda tastes like refried beans) and egg sandwich and a tamiya and egg sandwich for breakfast, then took an easy Metro (I love the Metro) ride to the Giza station.

There, we found another pair of tourists, and, instead of them paying 20 pounds, we all paid 10 pounds to this driver.

But we were in for more than we bargained for. We go this crazy route, leading through farmyards then busy gravel roads along a canal, and then... end up at a horse- and camel-riding facility?

Once we were there, Abdalla had the difficult task of translating to his "brethren" (since they all think he is Egyptian) that no, the tourists did not want to get ripped off. We eventually threatened to leave the cab, and a new driver took us to the side gate of the pyramids.

Abdalla has this issue of being from Oman, but having an Egyptian accent from his parents, so all the Egyptians want him to be on their side, not being a tourist. It has helped, but when we find other tourists, he is put in a hard spot. They are convinced that he has to be Egyptian.

Abdalla and I wandered and read from my little pyramid guide book that I picked up this morning. It is so hard to find the scale to the pyramids... from afar, they look like you've seen in any picture. From up close, there is a tiny man at the bottom, and layers and layers of one-meter-tall blocks.

It was a hot afternoon, so we did everything very slowly, which meant that we were headed back in a cab at about 1pm. Our next stop was the Egyptian Museum, which is just a few blocks from home, but I didn't realize how short-tempered I was because of the heat. When they asked me to check my camera at the bag check, I nearly freaked out, for no good reason.

After calming down, I saw a lot of the treasures of Tutakamen's (King Tut's) tomb... they really crammed that thing full!

Some ice cream and a nap (and a bout of homesickness) restored my spirits for the evening's activities.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Going to Egypt in Egypt, or Day 7 of the Epic May Adventure


Cairo it is! And Cairo on a Friday is much like any other Muslim country on a Friday: a few people about, scattered stores open, and the Quran being chanted over the whole city.

When we were getting on the bus to Cairo, I was confused why the bus driver was shouting "Masr" as well as "Qahira." Turns out that this sprawling city is not just "Cairo" but also "Egypt" of Egypt.

We spent the morning hotel shopping, and found a place that was much friendlier, and didn't have me sleeping in a mixed dorm. Then we walked, and walked, and found a net cafe and a mobile phone store, so the errands are done. Now it is time for fun.

I'm going to post this now, just in case we don't get to internet tonight, though it is cheap and there should be more open later. We'll see, but today is looking like a slightly hot, sunny, and interesting day.

After internet, Abdalla and I headed out to find some food. We got some coscary at "Tom and Basel's", and a fried chicken sandwich at "Felfela." Then, it was finding the closest attraction on my list of things to do (which would be the Abdeen Palace) and walking to it.


It was pretty hot, so we took it easy. And, since it was a Friday, the museum wasn't open, but we heard from one of the guards that it was where the President of Egypt apparently lives. Compared to the White House in DC, the security was pretty lax, but maybe there was more than I noticed.


We got juice: sugarcane for Abdalla (which is an acquired taste, I think... it still tastes like weeds to me) and fresh squeezed orange for me. In the states, a mug full of juice like that could easily be $2; here, it was about $.50. Pretty good.


I got to take the Metro for the first of many times today, and stood in the women's only car. It was less crowded, but I felt gawked at. At least it was just by other women, right?
We got off at the Opera/Geshira stop, and walked up the the Qasr Al Nile Bridge. I was wanting shade, so we paid 2 Egyptian pounds (about $.40) to get to that park area that went underneath the bridge.


So, in Egypt, every girl has her guy (though the converse is not true at all). Amongst all these couples, there is a trend to dress in similar colors as your "habibe." There was a couple in green, then one in blue, and one where her scarf matched his shirt.

And, among these couples, especially the young, there is a bit of turmoil. This is chatty Egypt after all, and half of that chat is actually arguments. Egyptians around Education City in Doha have a stereotype of being "hot-headed," as Kelsey put it. Well, it seems like a general trait around here.

Abdalla and I are sitting under the bridge when we start to hear shouts. A boy, probably around 15, is yelling at a girl of similar age. He has a few girls around him (including his gir
l), and we think this outburst was instigated by the girl's insults at his girl.

Anyway, the boy gets up, as does the girl, and they yell nose-to-nose for a few insults before turning away. While turning, however, the girl picks up an empty water bottle and throws it at his feet.


With that, the final straw, both parties leap into action: the boy turns, his girlfriend and friends leap up, and the pair turns around. The boy is in the thick of things, kicking and throwing punches among all the girls. Two girls have each other by the headscarves, while holding on to their own. (As Abdalla said, us non-covered girls have it easy; we can go straight for the hair-pulling with no hijab interference.)


Security and others rush in, and start trying to separate the parties. The girls are restrained, the guy is getting his arm held by security, and they break free for another mini-tussle. Finally, with each retreating to his or her separate territory, the boy's girlfriend sees that the enemy's pink ballet-style shoes have come off during the fight.


So in one fluid motion she picks up a shoe and flicks it into the Nile.


With a few more shouts and jabs after that, the groups are dismissed from the park.

We expect the action to be over. (I mean, we've already gotten our two-pounds of entertainment.) Lo and behold, one-shoe girl comes back with a security guard and a caretaker. And a fishing pole.


They lowered the pole in once, then decided that was hopeless. The caretaker then rolls up his pants legs and is lowered in! (The Nile is dirty, but not super disgusting, but this was still a bit brave.) I thought that they were able to see the shoe, but he reaches down, with his nose nearly at the water, and picks up... a piece of wire. Then a soda bottle. Then a rock. Abdalla translates one of his mutterings as "This is your shoe; why am I in the Nile?!"


A row boat with a nomadic family on it floats by, and helps the guy back over the wall, back to the park. The still-one-shoe girl leaves with her consort, and the park resumes its normal activities, with just a few remaining side comments from the older women.
"That girl... she deserves to only have one shoe..."


We meet up with Kelsey, a friend from TAMU-Q, and her mom and family friend for some hummus, then drive to see the sunset over the Nile (though the view wasn't great where we were, and it disappeared into the dust before it went behind the horizon). After an interesting ride with her driver (who doesn't know much English, so he and Abdalla and me and Kelsey were having two separate conversations), we got to Moatam Hill. There, we had some tea or juice, and some sheesha while watching the lights of Cairo. We could even see the pyramids lit up at one point!


The next part of the night is a bit hazy, since I was falling asleep in the car (and was apparently asleep for quite a while at one point). We cruised by a few mosques, all lit up, got stuck in some traffic jams (at 11:00pm at night!) and just basically took a random driving tour to see all these different areas of Cairo.


They dropped us off at the hotel, where I continued my sleeping.

Going To Egypt, or Day 6 of the Epic May Adventure


Today was the big move from Asia (where I've been for the last 4 months, believe it or not) to Africa (where I've never been!)

We attempted to see the sunrise this morning, but a large mountain was kinda in the way, so there was a lot of sitting and waiting, then giving up when we had to go back and pack and eat breakfast. Breakfast was bread (pita) with jam, or halawa tihineya (a sweet, chalky substance made from sesame and pistachios), or processed cheese, or all of the above. The four kittens were still around to entertain us.

It took a bit of work (and Arabic) to get out of Rum Village. We were supposed to take a bus with our driver, but then he disappeared when we were trying to find someone to pay. Then, we decided to just get on the main highway, and, with the Dutch couple, paid a taxi to get us there. Then a minibus and an hour later, we were in Aqaba.

We found the weirdest cab driver to take us around. He was nice, taking us to get our ferry ticket, then taking us to a Wifi-enabled coffee shop. When that wasn't going to open for another 30 minutes, he took us to the Aqaba Castle. So I did manage to convince Abdalla to do a wee bit of sightseeing.

Internet and a sour lemon juice, and we were on the ferry. There were a couple random lines which we had to pass through, but thankfully no exit tax (which is good because I wanted to keep the rest of the Jordanian dinars for keepsakes).

The "fast" ferry was scheduled to arrive at 2:00, an hour after it left. I think we finally got off it around 4:00, then a crazy congested luggage scanner in the arrival port, and we hopped right on a bus headed to Cairo.

I saw my first Egyptian sunset over the desert. There were a few more colors than at Wadi Rum last night, but there is also a bit more pollution. I napped for the final two hours of our six-hour journey, and, bleary-eyed, I followed Abdalla from taxi to taxi to find one whose meter worked.

It was an argument with the taxi drivers, then an argument with the hotel management (again, Arabs not being able to stay in dorm-style), then a hawawshi (a almost-fried, meat-filled bread pocket) and I was ready to hit the sack in my dorm-style room with Abdalla in his large single. Though mine doesn't face the main road so, insh'allah, I'll get a good night's rest.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Rock versus Snake, or Day 5 of the Epic May Adventure

Wow. Another great day. And I'm sitting and writing this in a tent in the middle of Wadi Rum. (Clearly it is not going to get uploaded tonight... no wireless networks in range!)

So the Petra to Wadi Rum bus this morning was super easy, though not as cheap as it could have been (gasp! an extra $3 a piece!). We got to Wadi Rum, found our tour operator, and hopped into a jeep (after sipping down some tea pretty quickly). Also in the jeep were a couple from Holland on holiday and a pair of law students on their way to Tanzania.

The great part about meeting new people is that there is a whole host of easy questions with interesting answers to ask. So the law students were interested in human rights, this was about the middle of their trip to Tanzania (after Amman and Syria), and th
ey chatted about the US versus Middle East differences with me. The Dutch couple was a teacher and a priest, and the priest was a go-between, creating Muslim-Christian dialogues in church and mosques throughout Holland. They chatted about their daughters and their education, the religious differences and difficulties, and how much they liked Petra and Egypt.

All in all, a successful social day.

Now, to attempt to explain the wonder that is Wadi Rum. In the past, when I've described a wadi, it has been one particular canyon. Wadi Rum is an entire nature preserve, over 200 square kilometers of scrub next to sand nestled among imposing rocky mountains. The sandstone of the mountains has worn away, through water and through wind, to create rock bridges and canyons, as well as craggy peaks and slopes. I was in awe when I got to Rum Village, a complex of houses inside the park, and there were mountains all over. The jeep tour we took just completed my joy.

"Lawrence of Arabia" was filmed here, so we got to see a few different places used in the movie. We also got to scramble up some rock faces: the first Abdalla and I didn't finish, because the spring at the top was too far and not very interesting; the second was to the top of a rock bridge, and was amazing. On our first hike, we started up some steps thinking the spring that our minimal-English-speaking guide pointed to (thank God for Abdalla again) was pretty close. However, as we continued up the trail (in sandals) we encountered a couple in full hiking gear (with bottles of water, which we had left in the car) saying that they turned back because of a snake. A snake?! I was excited, Abdalla was... I don't know, Mari was forging ahead regardless, and Matt picked up a rock to defend himself against one of his big fears. We were told it was by a tree 200 meters away, but more the one tree and more than 200 meters passed without a glimpse. I was disappointed, Abdalla was... I don't know, Mari was still checking out every piece of grass and rock, and Matt was still carrying his rock (and had even switched it out for a better one). The spring, once we got to the top, was a tad disappointing. There was water dripping off the walls, and moss, and... a puddle. No waterfall and no majestic pool. (And did I mention, no snake?) The other places we went had shorter hikes, though I opted out of climbing straight up the first sand dune we came to. The second sand dune of the day was more my style. We picnicked in the shade of a canyon in one of the mountains, creating a potluck of our various breads and spreads. Abdalla told a version of his family history to keep us all entertained. Our arrival at the camp at about 3 was a bit unexpected for me. I thought we had a few more sights to see, but next on the "agenda" was a trek to a nearby mountain. Abdalla and I had had enough walking and hiking in Petra, and it was pretty hot out, so we opted to chill in the big tent and chat. The law students left, so it was just us four. At about 5 o'clock, we decided that we were here for the nature and the beauty, which we couldn't see very well within the tent. A nearby rock face provided us with a nook to shade us from the sun and let us watch the various 4x4s coming and going from the other camps around us. The Dutch couple emerged at bit later, and a German girl came out too, to watch the sunset. We were completely satisfied with the angle, so Abdalla, Nora (the German girl), and I walked a bit over to another rock close to another camp. The orange and pink of the sunset glow was also met with hoots from a Beduoin guy who ran the camp we were close to. He came out and chatted with Abdalla, and, surprisingly, with the German girl who knew some Arabic. I was too fascinated by the beauty of the sunset to care that I was the only one not understanding. A meal in the big tent (meeting the American volunteer) and we were finished with our planned activities. However, the sky full of stars called, so we walked out to see as many stars as I've ever seen before.

I didn't know many constellations, but there were a few satellites and shooting stars. The desert grew chilly and silent at night; the silence was pulsating in my ears. It was only interrupted every so often by the annoying buzzing of a fly.

When the chill was too much for our long sleeve shirts and the rock was too hard to be comfortable, we retired to the tent, now happy that it was well-insulated and kept in the heat of the day.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Too Cool for Petra, or Day 4 of the Epic May Adventure

Yesterday, as we were checking into our hotel, I smelled "the Subway smell." You know, when you walk by the restaurant Subway and it calls to you?

Turns out there is a bakery downstairs where we got some zatar (I think it is fennel or parsley or something with garlic coating a fresh round of bread) and one with cheese (but the Arabic, slightly sour cheese).

We were very fortunate today. We got our free ride into Petra, and starting heading down the Siq to the Treasury around 7:30. We were thinking about waiting for a tour to start at 8:30, but decided against it. That was our fir
st bit of luck.

The treasury was awe-inspiring; everything Indiana Jones made it out to be. (In fact, we found our very own "friend" who looked like Indy: hat, uber-hiking gear, though no whip. "Friend" because all we did was take a picture for him.) It was a tomb, and it is very intense to think about... but then you compare the tombs to the pyramids at Giza, and you really get a grasp of how much people honored the dead.

We had already walked about two kilometers at this point. "Downtown" Petra isn't an easy place to get to. As we continued on, Abdalla kept making fun of me and how I liked to climb (as in stairs, mountains, etc.) I had just spotted a tomb I wanted to peak inside when Abdalla distracted me with an intriguing staircase that led up right before the Street of Facades.

I started up, then he stopped and waited for me. As I continued up, and up, and up, I realized that this was a trail all the way to a lookout point at the top of one of the surrounding mountains. I was debating what to do when I see Abdalla come walking up behind. My second bit of luck.

He had been walking to talk with a Beduoin man (there were people of residents around) and decided to find me. We continued up until we started getting passed by a German tour group. Abdalla asked the tour guide in Arabic where they were going, and the tour guide invited us to walk along behind so we wouldn't get lost. The third bit of luck.

So we walked and walked, and got to see a ritualistic sarifice site carved in the top of the mountain, in addition to some other caves and little facades. There was a garden monument, with a drainage hole for their complex water system. We were walking down the mountain (still following the tour group) and passing along the processional route. However, we were still passing facades that were mostly for tombs.

We got to the bottom, and had ended up at the end of the typical main drag. I was very excited that we had done this cool, huge circle. Abdalla, while sharing some of the same sentiments, was also sure I was out to kill him.

Well, I almost succeeded when we went to the Monastry. Any literature you read warns that it is at least 45 minutes to the top, with over 900 steps on the way. We bought a big bottle of water for the rip-off price of 2 JD (that's, ashamed to say it, $3, when usually it is $.75) but I don't want to think about the water.

I just want to think about how the Monastry was my favorite facade. It was the biggest carved facade, and had been turned into a church for a time after its re-discovery (which is why it is called the Monastry, despite the lack of monks).

A "few" more steps led up to some lookouts. There was the "Spring Lookout" and "The End of the World." It was mountains and scrub for as far as the eye could see.

We walked back down, had some more crackers and bread and water (what we'd been living on all day), then continued to the Siq and walking back up, admiring the monuments on the main drag.

The colonaded street was pretty, but the Great Temple really gave a sense of scale to the whole place. It had this puny, round theater that could hold 626 people! Inside the Temple!

We were just getting silly by the time we went by the Royal Tombs. Abdalla had pushed his hat off to the side, and we took the first in the series "Too Cool for Petra." I think my picture is much more evocative though. (Will attempt to post these when we have more than 5 minute access to the internet).

A giant Roman theater carved (in one piece) out of the side of a mountain, and we were headed back up to the visitor's center. We finished up the last of the bread, just made it back to the top, and, because Abdalla spoke Arabic, got a cab to take us back to town for just 2 JD (instead of 5).

This blog is posted late because we showered, then napped, then I ventured out for 15 minutes to see the sunset and get water, then fell asleep again. Didn't really have time for Internet with all that sleeping. Wadi Rum is going to be out in the middle of the desert, so not thinking there is going to be much blog posting there. We'll see if we have time to hit an internet cafe before getting on the boat to Egypt in Aqaba. Jordan time is almost up!

Monday, May 10, 2010

The Bible Is Alive!, or Day 3 of the Epic May Adventure

We awoke early and checked out of our hotel. I was sad to leave my room with its beautiful view.

We awoke early, again, then to go explore Madaba since we didn't get a chance to yesterday. It was a bus to a bus to Madaba, then a walk to the visitor's center. We got a handy dandy map and started walking around.

Madaba is all about mosaics, so our first stop was
a mosaic restoration school, then an archaeology museum with some Greek mythology (Eros, in particular caught my eye, and another god named Charimus, like charisma!). I learned quite a bit about mosaics from Istanbul, so I got a refresher course around here.

There was another little church, then the big St. George's Cathedral with a map of the Middle East. According to a cab driver, when Egypt and Israel were trying to decided who got Taba (a city between them), they came and referred to this map to decided (and it went to Egypt).

Today was (sadly) hotter than yesterday, and quite hazy, so our quick trip up to Mount Nebo was a bit disappointing. I mean, here we are, at the mountain where Moses took his l
ast look over the Promised Land that he couldn't enter, and we can hardly see the Dead Sea for all the dust in the air. We could see Jericho (or what we were told was Jericho), and it is very interesting seeing the Biblical cities come to life.

A bus to Petra area (long but cheap), and we are here! Tomorrow will be a lot of looking at cool things. I'm pretty excited!

Sunday, May 9, 2010

"Adventure", or Day 2 of the Epic May Trip

Can't say we weren't warned. Yesterday, when we talked about how we were going to try to get to Wadi Mujib and the Dead Sea via bus, they said it was possible, but we were going to have to be adventurous.

It's a tale of despair and hope, rushing and waiting, truth and lies, frustration and success.

It was a roller coaster of a day. I mean, we're back in Amman, so it couldn't have gone too badly, right?
Now, I'm writing this offline, to upload later, and I don't have a map on me, so you are going to have to look these places up.
Let's start with Amman. We have been keeping track of expenses, so today we decided to keep track of times as well. Here is what is written down before... well, just before.

7:20 - Bus to bus station: .5 dinar

7:30 - Bus to Madaba: 1.3 dinar

8:45 - Bus to Wadi Mujib Karak - 6 dinar

Sustenance: .5 dinar

11:15 - Bus to another bus: .5 dinar

11:30 - Bus up the hill: .2 dinar

And that is when I stopped writing. Because that is when we just started going by the seat of our pants in a less than gracefully manner. In fact, the "seat of the pants" started during the Karak trip.

We got on a bus in Madaba that was supposed to take us to the Visitors' Center of Wadi Mujib. At least, that's what the punk kid collecting money told us.

Now, we are driving through some amazing countryside, then a plunging "wadi" (these canyon-like washouts carved down by water). With some goats, herding dogs, and tents in the mix.


We cross this dam, and all of a sudden, there is commotion between Abdalla and the driver and his attendant and the punk kid. Abdalla jumps out of the bus, consults with some police who are apparently guarding this giant dam, then jumps back in.

Well, what I gather from Abdalla, after a few, "Umm, what's going on?" and "Anything wrong?"s, is that Wadi Mujib is both the name of this dam thing and the name of the preserve as well that we were trying to get to.

(This whole next part is going to sound like I don't trust Abdalla, and don't worry, we've already talked about how frustrated we both were today. But it just because we react differently to situations. He gets frustrated and tries to fix it immediately, with whatever the first action that presents itself is; I get frustrated, and I stop, think, wait, examine, think, wait, and then make a tentative decision. So you will see how those opposing forces get us both frustrated.)

So the bus says that they will go to the end of the line, then swing back and drop us off. This is the first of many, many times today that I get the feeling something is wrong and that we should stop and think for a second before acting. However, Abdalla goes along with it, so I don't question it (out loud) and we sit. And nap. And sit. (And I got a wheel-well seat, so legs were a bit cramped).

And you can see that, instead of the Wadi Mujib Nature Preserve, we got to Karak.


Now, on a regular day, I wouldn't mind Karak. One, it is named after a beverage I love. Two, there are supposedly a pretty castle there.

Today, however, Karak is simply just another waypoint in our "adventurous" quest to reach Wadi Mujib (the preserve, not the dam thing). So the bus attendant walks us over to another minibus, which drives us to another minibus that is going the right way, along the Dead Sea.

I'm super critical at this point, wondering why we didn't just get off the first bus when it told us we had already passed it, getting snappy with Abdalla because he has these long conversations (with much emotion and noise) and then tells me something simple, and getting hot and cramped from so many buses.

The real candle on the cake is when the creepy-looking dude next to Abdalla convinced him to get off the bus at some random little wayside restaurant. So we jump off, and... yeah, I get stared at by creepy guys, and we end up "hitch-hiking."

Now, I've heard this is a common way to travel in Jordan and other places. You are waiting for a bus that might or might not come, and while you wait, you see if anyone else is going in the same direction.

A car ready-to-please quickly pulled over, and, after an Arabic conversation, we got in. The conversation continued when we got in the car, and then a bit when we got out. It was only later Abdalla told me that this guy was actually a taxi driver in disguise, preying on people for their money and ripping us off to get to where we wanted to go.

But. We got to where we wanted to go. Seventeen dinars later, and we were at Wadi Mujib. (I feel sad now that I calculated that.)

But I just keep telling myself that it was worth it. And Wadi Mujib (the preserve) was worth it. We paid another too-much to get in, collected our life jackets, and began the unguided trail up to the waterfall.

This canyon, which is gorgeous and immense, carved smooth by the water, has a strong stream running through it. We walked up stream; however, our flipflops were in danger the entire time. We eventually took them off, and I know I was regretting the lack of strap-on sandals. The rocks were a bit hard, but we decided that we were stronger than the pain.

The real truth hit when there was a giant rock with water gushing over it in our way. We could see footholds on the exposed face, and there was a rope that was straight up into a gushing part of the mini-waterfall, so we had no idea how to scale this thing.

We deliberated, then saw some boys scrambling along above the rock. Then, there was an entire family herd. They kindly demonstrated the hand-over-hand while balancing yourself up the rock, standing, that we then used to get over the first obstacle. The next little scramble they explained to us as well.

And then, after a final climb over rushing water, we got to the swirling pool at the base of a 30-foot (that's about 10 meter) waterfall. We sat in the water and admired it, saw others dunk their heads under and did similarly, then started our trek back. (And, thank God, the sandals didn't feel like they were going to rip off our feet going downstream. My tender feet couldn't take anymore. Seriously, needed some better footwear.)

We got out of the canyon and walked down a gravel path to the Wadi Mujib Chalets (a bit too expensive for our poor student budgets) where we paid another too-much to float in the Dead Sea.

I was a little freaked out at swimming in it since I read about people drowning when they try to float face down. And it's true, when you go stomach-down, the only way to right yourself without a faceful of salty, oily water, is to turn onto your back and go from there.

Abdalla had a bit of a "swimming" (steering and moving) lesson while floating, and we found the warm spots right about the black rocks to soak in. I had a few cuts that made my legs sting, but we sat/floated for quite some time in the Dead Sea. I did chicken out before Abdalla and rinsed off all the stinging salt.

Now, the next worrying part was how to get back to either Madaba (which has some cool things to see, as well as a neat place to watch the sunset) or Amman and the hotel. We get to the main road, another over-eager driver pulls over, and we hop in, thinking that it was just a hitch.

We end up in some town along the road to Amman and are forced to pay 2 dinars for the ride. Some nice chap he was. (When, in the middle of the ride, Abdalla told me he was getting annoyed with the guy, I was scared that he was going to be a jerk.)

We took my decision-making route after that, telling off some guy who wanted to drive us in to Amman for 7 dinars ($11) and instead hopping in another car with another group and getting (finally) a free ride to the outskirts of Amman where we took a simple bus just blocks from our hotel and walked back.


Now, this sounds less frustrating on here than it was in real life. Every single time one of the legs of our journey ended, we had no idea what was coming next. Only now, in retrospect, do I see how truly adventurous our day was. I mean, we basically went south-east of the Dead Sea into the southern part of Jordan before coming back west, then north, and now back in Amman, one of the northern cities. I just wish it hadn't taken us... 6 hours to get from Amman to Wadi Mujib.

After a quick re-coop from the harrowing journeys of the day, Abdalla and I took a taxi (for the first time today) to a pedestrian avenue in West Amman. There we had ice cream, walked, and got one too many glasses of delicious fruit cocktail.