Sylvana's 2007 Travel Adventure

In NoVA with "Miss Julia" (11.19.07)

2007-11-20T08:28:00.000-05:00

I spent last night in Falls Church, Virginia, with my sister, her husband, and their 7-month old girl, Julia. As I have been saying, it was a very underwhelming homecoming for me as there was no one with flowers or a banner waiting for me at the airport. Instead I collected my bags, bought a Washington Flyer bus ticket to the Falls Church Metro Station, and then walked about 20 minutes from the Metro to my sisters house and let myself in. Since I had spent my entire flight from Paris to Dulles watching movies (No Reservations, Die Hard IV, and Waitress), by the time everyone over here starting arriving back from work and daycare I was ready for bed and I am sure did not make very charming company.

I started my evening on the floor of Julia's room, since 8 oclock EST felt like 3 am to me. She was up and down during the night almost as much as I was, but didn't have the crazy circadian clock at 2 am telling her body, "Wake Up. It's 9 am Paris time!" I padded around the house from 2-5 am before falling asleep again on the couch. It is a little surreal to be back at home under such mundane circumstances. When I arrived back at Dulles and was passing out of customs, my heart caught TO BE CONTINUED

....

The above are photos of my niece, Julia, who will knows me as "Aunt Sylly" (if she knows me at all).

It has been really interesting to see her and to compare her with the other infant in my life, Mr. Ian Russell Griffin Barnhart. Julia is about 7 weeks ahead of Ian in age, but seems like she comes from an entirely different planet.

First of all, she is HUGE! 95% percentile in length and weight with the head circumference of an adult and the grip of a pro-wrestler. She is already 18 lbs+ and has a very nice little pot belly that I think she puts to good use as a sitting aid. I watched her guzzle ~7 ounces of formula in one sitting last night before bed, and that was AFTER her dinner of mashed green beans.

Secondly, she is quiet and reserved. Unlike Ian who REALLY likes to be attached to someone, either physically or socially, Julia seems quite content to entertain herself on her mat or in her bed. Even when you are holding her, she stares out at you with big unblinking eyes as if she is sizing up whether to let you in to her inner sanctum or not.

I am very lucky to have both babies in my life, particularly since I don't think I want one of my own. My favorite, of course, is playing dress up with them. Oh, wait till their mom's see the presents I got the babes from Dubai! ;-)))

Not "home" yet, but getting closer! (11.19.07)

2007-11-19T15:05:00.000-05:00

This is a quick placeholder to say that I am back on American soil and very much looking forward to a nap and a shower. I missed my flight out of Marseille yesterday and had a very unfortunate, very expensive, and very unwelcome stay in Paris before flying out this morning. As much as it was nice to see Rick and his European world, I think France is a country that I am going to stay out of from now on! They aren't a very hospitable bunch...
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Anyway, here I am. Stay tuned for more updates after I have recovered from jet lag a little bit. There is still more to come before I actually make it back to my own bed sometime next weekend!

I don't like France...the trials and tribulations of returning to the US

2007-11-19T15:04:00.000-05:00

Why am I smiling???

I just paid Air France another $200 as a change fee because I missed my flight from Marseille to Paris!My broom closet-sized room at Paris Charles de Gaulle airport

Bottom line - I f***ed around and missed my flight out of Marseille. The un-supportive staff at Air France at the Marseille airport weren't all that much help, but with Rick's help, a few white lies about my tardiness being due to the railroad strike, and a some patience on the part of the ticketing guy, I managed to get rebooked to Paris-Orly for Sunday afternoon. So now the only problem was that my new flight was out of Paris-Charles de Gaulle on Monday morning.

I have a lot of comments about the experience, but none of them are particularly flattering to the French staff. hmmm...g

Sightseeing sans Bebe (11.17.07)

2007-11-19T15:03:00.000-05:00

4 hours in the car for 2 hours in Nimes (11.16.07)

2007-11-15T14:04:00.000-05:00

Sunset while Amanda tried to soothe an inconsolable Ian

On Friday we visited Rick's "French Family."

6 hours in Marseille (11.15.07)

2007-11-15T13:56:00.000-05:00

Our charming French breakfast

On the streets
Palais Longchamp
Plans for upscale McDonald's
Charming Restaurant
French lady and her shopping basket

Ian selecting our lunch
The "Village"
My new jeans
Ian & my new jaunty cap

I say only 6 hours because despite arriving fairly early last night, we didn't actually leave Rick's flat this morning until about noon. It was cold and windy all day as we wandered along the old boulevards and in and out of a few upscale stores down near the marina. By the time we finished lunch and wandered back outside at around 4:15 pm, the wind had turned to a very unpleasant drizzle and we scrapped our plan to take the city bus out to see some of the coastline. We attempted some mall shopping, but even that fizzled out pretty early because of technical (and infantal) difficulties, so we were all back the cozy apartment by 6:00.

I am regretting not doing more shopping in Athens since the exchange rate continues to tank and I think Athens prices were better for higher quality clothing. So perhaps I will scrap my plans to try and look like a European while I am here. I did splurge and get my first pair of $100+ jeans after being so impressed with Rick's. He took me to Diesel and I came out much poorer, but hopefully much more bootilicious. I was then told that tomorrow we are going to Nims, which is the birthplace of denim. It was originally used for sailor's uniforms and was produced "du Nims." The other thing I purchased was a jaunty hat, seen above modeled by Mr. Ian.

Third Strike for Acropolis - and we're out of Greece!

2007-11-14T14:22:00.000-05:00

Goodbye to Hotel Amazon in Athens
Unknown protest on Mitropolitous
Harry Potter in Greek
Ian with his travel documents
Alitalia's special seatbelt for Ian
Over France
Marseille from plane
Catching bus to Marseille
Marseille sunset
With Rocky Bilboa-our cabbie's dog in Marseille
Rick & Ian

The original plan was to be up by 7:30 and out the door by 8:30 to finally see the Acropolis before leaving town. The reality was that the funny tasting cheese from last night was probably bad and I woke up around 5:00 am with very unpleasant cramps and abdominal contractions. Thus, I wasn't going anywhere any time soon lest my body take an inopportune moment to purge itself of the toxins. It turns out that Amanda and Ian were happy to sleep until 9 am as well. The bottom line was that there was no Acropolis this morning. We were doing well to get to the airport 45 minutes before out flight.

I just have to mention two notable events that occured just prior to leaving the hotel. First, Ian and I wandered into some sort of protest march on the edge of Syntagma Square as we were out hunting for an ATM machine. I asked someone what the protest was about, but as they were tourists as well they didn't have an answer. So I took a photo and will have to find someone who can read Greek to translate. The other incident was actually somewhat traumatic. As Ian and I were trying to get my 20 kg backpack into the tiny elevator, one of the straps of the backpack got closed into the doors. As the elevator started to move, I began frantically pushing buttons to stop the elevator, but it was too late. I stepped backwards into the elevator (with Ian strapped to my chest) and watched the 50 lbs of luggage rise to the ceiling of the elevator and then come crashing back down when the strap finally broke off. I shreiked, Ian cried as a result, and all-in-all it was a high stress elevator ride.

Our flights to Marseille were fine, with the exception of me leaving my purse/camera bag on the plane from Athens when we transferred in Milan. Thus there was no lunch during our 45 minute layover. The no lunch part ended up being not a problem once we finally made it into Marseille. We grabbed a bus from the airport to the bus terminal in downtown Marseille where Rick met us with a pre-arranged taxi. Even the taxi was a treat for me, since I got to sit in the front seat with "Rocky Balboa," the cabbie's permanent canine co-pilot. We arrived at Rick's place around 6, he made us a wonderful big dinner of pasta & salad, and we spend the next few hours doing mundane things like laundry and emailing. It is nice to be in a home again, though it will be even nicer to be in my own!

Second Acropolis Strike Out (11.13.07)

2007-11-14T14:21:00.001-05:00

Syntagma Square Metro stationKouros
Amanda & Ian making friends
Greeks..."uncut"
Statue
Little old ladies and pigeons outside of museum
Tomb of the Unknown Soldier
Greek Orthodox clergy
Site of first modern Olympics
Rain at the Acropolis
Greek Orthodox paraphrenalia
Folk dancing at Nurigas

Though after much intercontinental travel I think I would have been happy going shopping and then to a movie today in Athens, Amanda the former anthropologist was bound and determined to go see the Acropolis and the Archeological Museum. After breakfast at the hotel, we hopped on the Athens Metro to start our day at the Museum.
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Once there we discovered that neither of us were that interested in reading the explanatory placards posted everywhere and that a live museum guide would run us 50 Euros / hour (~75 USD). Of course I thought about the kick-ass 2 hour guided tour we got through the Egyptian Museum for $25 total and was really missing Cairo again. We basically wandered from room to room, stopping to let each door monitor coo and babble at Ian in Greek. There were a few groups of Greek schoolchildren there as well, and I noticed that even the Greek kids love babies. Whenever we walked past they stopped whatever they were doing in order to turn and smile.
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The first area we visited I think were finds from Mycenean tombs and included a lot of pottery, jewelry, and very-gilded diadem. There were some 2500 year old safety pins which I though were very cool, and of course some painted wall fresco-type things. Our real interest was in the sculputre. The earliest works we saw were Koura, youthful figures meant to either guard or represent gods. What was fascinating about these larger than life figures was how obviously they had been influenced by the Greeks' travels to Pharonic Egypt. Not only were some of the figures massive size a first for Greek artists, but they also had large triangular hair-dos reminiscent of the pharonic headdresses and they all stood erect with the left foot slightly forward (see Cairo Museum entry). As we moved forward through time new saw the sculptures become more complex and refined and we commented on the artists' ability to capture facial expressions (and the fact that through the sculptures we now know that the ancient greeks did not practice circumcisions ;-))
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We stayed about an hour and a half and then decided to try and find a bus back to Syntagma Square. Neither of us can read Greek (they really do use a different alphabet) so we took a guess and hopped on the number 8 bus that looked promising and ended up near enough to our destination. I think the greek system is a little strange in that you are supposed to buy your ticket before getting on the bus. Near the back door there is a ticket validation machine, so that you have zero interaction iwth the driver and are just on an honor system as to whether or not you have or validate your ticket. We did neither, and saved a few Euros in the process ;-).
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After getting off the bus we passed by the Parliament building and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. We stopped for photos of the guards in their wool stockings, long white tunic/miniskirts, and curly-toed, pompom-adorned Greek slippers. Though it was pushing 2:30 and we hadn't had lunch, we pressed on to try and get to the Acropolis. We check internet briefly, I changed out of my stylish European shoes and into more practical American touring sneakers, and we hopped on the "Happy Tram" tourist train for a ride to the Acropolis. The Happy Tram ended up being the Crappy Tram as it drove back through all the sights we had already seen on the tram with Jennifer, but this time without any commentary. Sights included Hadrian's Arch and the Agora Complex.
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By the time we finally got to the Acropolis at around three, I was ravenous. We stopped into restaurant decorated sometime in the swinging 70s for a grossly overpriced (~40 USD) lunch of salad, grilled cheese, and hot chocolate. We actually had to pay extra for the butter that we asked for with our free bread. I couldn't believe my eyes as we were finishing lunch - it had started to rain. We fought the one-way flow of traffic coming down from the Acropolis, thinking that we would brave the rain and just go do it. Once we got there and realized just how cold and wet it really was, how unprepared we were, and that it would cost us 12 Euro each to get in a be miserable. Thus, we taxied back to the hotel for naps and warm showers and promised ourselves that we would definitely get up early tomorrow morning to go to the Acropolis.
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The evening activities consisted of wandering the streets looking for souveniers, internet to update our respective blogs, and dinner at Nuriga's fine Greek restaurant that included live entertainment of musicians, folk dancers, singers, and a bellydancer. I will keep my critical comments regarding the dancer to myself, though in the end I have to admit that I was ultimately entertained by her performance. It may have had more to do wiht the hysterical middle-aged man that she pulled up on stage to dance with her, but when it was all said and done it really doesn't matter why you enjoy a show...just that you did. The food was unfortunate - for us vegetarians the provided bread (butter not included), greasy boiled potatoes, stuffed grape leaves, spanikopita, and a Greek salad with some funny tasting feta cheese. Ian made it through the evening fairly well, although he and Amanda had just stepped out at about the same time that I hopped up on stage to try my hand at fold doancing. We were home by 11:30 and I was happy to have seen just a little dancing while in Greece.

DRAFT PHOTOS ONLY - Sightseeing (and Errands) with Ian in Athens (11.12.07)

2007-11-12T15:20:00.001-05:00

At the Post Office in Athens - sending Egypt costumes home We should have weighed Ian!
Amanda & Ian
Hadrian's Arch
Temple of Olympian Zeus
Sylvana - the designated Ian-carrier
Temple of Olympian Zeus
"Guarding of the Change"
Acropolis at Sunset
Sylvana, Ian, & Amanda
Taken by Iranian tourist (with whom I spoke Farsi!)

Acropolis at Sunset

Nursing at Acrpolis Colors Ceremony at Acropolis
Acropolis at Night

Our Dessert Cafe - CREPES!
Ian as a HAPPY BOY!

DRAFT PHOTOS ONLY - Kickin' around with Jennifer (11.11.07)

2007-11-12T15:19:00.001-05:00

Photo session with Ian at Amazon Hotel

Shrek/Ian

Can't get away from the carpets

Street Backgammon

Greek Agora & Library Complex

On tram

Cafe Culture

Acropolis

Jennifer & Ian

Sylvana getting her dog fix

Checking email at Athens International Airport

Finding our Feet!

IN PROGRESS - Arrival in Greece (11.10.07)

2007-11-12T15:18:00.001-05:00

Arrival into Athens Airport

The 'Winston' Smoking Section at airport
Random church in shopping area
Ysatis boutique
Greek Flag on Mitropoulos Street
Trying on my new dance accessories from Dubai
At dinner
Ian & Aunt Sylly
Getting Baklava
Interesting bar on street

I arrived at the Athens airport with over 80 lbs of luggage in tow and very easily found a taxi to take me downtown to the hotel. My driver informed me that he had 32 years of experience as a cab driver and kept pointing out interesting landmarks such as the 2004 Olympic stadium and the American Embasy. The only problem was that after the early start to the day and enjoying 1.5 movies on the plane, I kept dozing off mid-sentence.

During this next week I will be traveling with my former partner of 12 years, Amanda, and her 4-month old son, Ian. In France on Wednesday we meet up with Rick, a very special long-time friend who has a second home in Marseille. Though for many people with a more "traditional" family structure the vacation arrangements may seem a little kooky, but I really am looking forward to it. The friendship seems to have been reestablished, the boundaries are set, and who doesn't want to hang out in a small hotel room with another adult and a 4-month old baby ;-).

With a few hours to kill in Athens before heading back to the airport to meet up with Amanda and Ian coming from the States, I bundled up against the blustery wind and started wandering the streets around Syntagma Square. I was completely amused to find that, in addition to carrying the standard issue Athens t-shirts , post-cards, and Acropolis snow globes, the tourist shops lining the streets also carry the same stuff I saw (and bought) in Marrakesh, Cairo, and Bur Dubai. These items include the blue & white Turkish "evil eye" good luck charm, pashmina shawls from Nepal, Oriental carpets, and Indian quilted wallhangings and bedspreads. Apparently the Greeks also haven't gotten the memo explaining that wearing dead animals is now "out", since about every 10th store in this area is a furrier.

The streets in this neighborhood are narrow and sandwiched between jewelry & shoe stores and Greek Orthodox churches, archeological sites of interest may pop up. I imagine this city of 5 million people has grown up around and swallowed many of the historical site, but I hope to know more about that tomorrow. Once again I had no luck trying to find internet, but I did catch a glimpse of myself walking by the show windows and I was just embarrassed for myself. 6 weeks of travelling as a backpacker in the warm middle east meant I had dressed in a white t-shirt, Costco athletic jacket, high-waisted zip-off pants circa 1985, and running shoes. That might cut it elsewhere with other budget travelers, but I decided it was high time for me to become a professional again. I joined the throng of other Saturday afternoon shoppers and wandered into one of the small boutiques off Mitropoluous Street and wandered out an hour later somewhat poorer for the two shirts and 1 pair of pants that I purchased, but hopefully much more stylish. The additional downside was that I am no longer a "medium" in any country. I could only wear "large" Indian fashions in Dubai, and here in Greece I am now a 3 on a scale of 0-4.

Truthfully, though I have this desire to "look European", I am not all that thrilled about European fashion. It is all about the "skinny jean". The waistband sits just inches above one's ass and is very very ticht. For most of us (and me in particular right now), this leads to the muffin-top phenomenon. My theory is that if it doesn't look good on a 17-year-old, it is not going to look good on an ever-expanding 34-year-old.

A Long Sad Good-bye to the Arabic East

2007-11-12T14:32:00.000-05:00

Jumeirah at sunrise on way to Dubai Airport
Emirates AirOver Mediterranean

Greece!

I have to admit that it was with a very heavy heart that I landed at the Greek airport this afternoon. I could blame it on the 4 hours of sleep that I got between managing to close the last zipper on my over-stuffed suitcases at 1 am and then having my alarm go off at 5:15am to catch my plane. Or I can blame it on the fact that this is my last week of travel and afterwards I am going to have to go back to work. But the more I think about it I realize that I am not so tired that it would affect my mood like this and I am actually looking forward to going back to work (obviously absence makes the heart grow fonder). I actually think that I am bummed about coming back to the West. Even though I personally don't follow politics at all, either those at home or abroad, I am aware that neither do the majority of Americans. Having been to this very important region of the world, I now realize not only how little I knew about it, but also how little I cared to know about it. It was "other" and just not important in my day to day life.

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Now that I have been here and seen that it is a completely enormous part of the world and is not going away anytime soon, I feel disappointment and disdain at the United States rather narcissist view of world politic and religion. In all of the countries that I was in, from Morocco to Dubai, television stations broadcast shows in at least three languages. At any given time you could watch news, sports, or entertainment in Arabic, English, French, Italian, Spanish, or Hindi.
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In addition, as I mentioned in one of my earlier entires, many Muslims know as much (if not more) about the Bible as many American Christian, and almost everyone is aware of the American political system for better or worse. It is so impressive at how socially and politically aware the East is and how isolated and introverted we are becoming. There is a whole world out there that we in the West see as little more than a source of charming cheap imports, including oil. Perhaps I am not giving enough credit to the US and I certainly don't mean to imply that I have all of a sudden become a worldly, non-prejudiced expert on any subject, Middle East OR Western. But at least now I feel I am much more aware of the depth and richness of these other cultures and will also be able to put many of the things that I hear and read in the news at home into a more well-rounded cultural context. I also have an emotional connection to many of the places since I have met wonderful and fascinating people in all of the countries I visited, and that was the best part of the trip by far.
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My trip isn't over yet, and I look forward to comparing and contrasting the European "West" culture with that of the American "West".

Winding down Dubai (11.9.07)

2007-11-09T16:20:00.000-05:00

View of The Palm Jumeirah from Adam Kaye's residence

R & R on beach

View of Jumeirah from the Palm at Jumeirah

Flags on road leaving the Palm at Jumeirah

Jumeirah Beach Hotel entrance

Sheikhs and their security inside Jumeirah Beach Hotel

Adam Kaye, my gracious host in Dubai

Khaleegi with the natives

Chef at Bab El Shams Desert Resort

See video below for more singing & dancing at Bab El Shams

Mohammed Shahin's friend, Hakam doing Tanoura dance

Lebanese dancer, "Salaam" and Adam Kaye

Sylvana & Adam

Lighted Wind-Towers at night

Burj al Arab at night

I originally intended to spend my last day almost exclusively at the beach for little hard-earned R & R after serious sightseeing and travelling over the last few days, but a combination of exhaustion from yesterday's to-do list and a little OCD in thinking of new things for today's list kept me in bed until 10 and at the computer until about noon. At that point I padded out to the living room to talkwith Adam about online trading (Dad-I think you should consider this for your retirement), smoking lawsuits, and the ever-popular topic of exorbitant real estate costs in
Dubai.
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I made it down to the beach at ~12:30 and finally saw a sampling of all those expat workers who are locked inside their offices at Knowledge Village or Media City during the week and are the ones keeping the Emirati economy booming. The beach was packed with people from all nationalities camped out on mats and under umbrellas. I saw a huge mix of people: there were vacationing French families, glamour & hip young Brit singles, Bangladeshi workers on break, Sikhs wading in the water wearing boxers, undershirts, and their characteristic turbans, and even a young Emirati couple in which the woman was swimming in her modest street clothes which included two layers of long-sleeved shorts on top, a pair of sweatpants, and a head scarf. It was nice to be out there but was far too abbreviated a rest, because the next thing I knw I had to come in to start getting ready for the big evening event - dinner and a show at the Bab El Shams Desert Resort where a friend of Mohammed Shahin, an egyptian named Hakam, performs Tanoura and Saidi regularly.
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Adam and I left the Jumeirah Beach Residences at around 4:30 for the Jumeirah Beach Hotel where we could catch a free shuttle out to Bab El Shams at 6:30 pm. On the way we asked the cab driver to take a detour into the trunk of the Palm Jumeirah. This is the first of three Palm developments in which giant islands in the shape of a palm tree have been built out into the Persian Gulf. The Palm Jumeirah touts itself as the 8th wonder of the world (obviously neglecting to mention the enviromental impact on the native aquatic ecosystem of the area) and already is home to about a dozen enormous identikit condo mid-rises and soon to be home to condos, villas, and an additional 25 5-star hotels. The thing that Adam astutely pointed out is that an enormous amount of land has been created with the potential to hold an enormous number of people. With 5 lanes going each way there is no traffic problem now, but it has the potential to be a disaster when people come in and need to commute 2x per day.
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MORE TO COME ABOUT BAB EL SHAMS

Traditional Dubai rhythms and song at Bab El Shams

Bellydancer "Salaam" at Bab El Shams

Kurdish/arabic music with Khaleegi dancers

Camel racing isn't really a spectator sport (11.8.07)

2007-11-09T01:20:00.000-05:00

Today's wake-up call from my own cell phone was at 5:25 am so that I could hail a cap to a camel racing track that Adam had been able to locate for me by calling around. While on the surface Dubai seems very sterile to me and the culture is very Indian / Pakistani / Bangladeshi or Philipino, the guidebooks claim that it has preserved some of its Emirati heritage in the form of its diversions which include horse racing, camel racing, and falconry. I found a cab, gave the general directions, and settled back to watch the sunrise and make a few calls during the drive. When we had been going for about 35 minutes and the fare had reached 95 Dh (~30 USD), I started to panic. Where is it? What did we do wrong? How much further? Do I have enough cash to cover the taxi?

Just as I was convincing myself that a lovely drive into the unirrigated desert was going to be worth a $60 RT taxi fare, camel farms started appearing on either side of the highway. The next thing I knew, we had clearly passed some sort of race track and were exiting the highway.

To get there, we basically followed the camels. There were camel farms and pens extending away from the actual track for about 2 miles in all directions, and there was a steady stream of dark-skinned handlers leading 3-5 blanketed and muzzled camels to and from the track.

The actual track was a much more impressive facility that I had been prepared for. Prior to arriving, I had imagined a sandy gathering place in the desert with a bunch of bedoins squatting on the ground and placing bets. What I found was a modern viewing clubhouse with plush leather chairs for the sheiks, plastic ones for the rest of us, and simulcast television screens for watching the action out on the track. There are a series of holding pens for the animals and their handlers both around the starting area and athe finish line, and plenty of room for the sheiks' white SUVs to manuever around the track. There was a group of American tourists / investing conference attendees already there, so I joined them for a while to learn about the races and generally to marvel at the experience.

This track was 4 km long and it was actually difficult to see the camels until they crossed the finish line. What you see instead are about 20 SUVs following them around the track on paved roads on either side. It turns out that historically, the camel jockeys were kids of ~8-10, but it was very dangerous for them. If they fell (camels can be 8-9' tall), they either were injured during the fall or trampled by the other camels. Two years ago, actual jockeys were replaced by electronic "jockeys" (essentially remote controlled whips) operated by the owners in the SUVs. The handlers bring the camels to the starting line and there is one guy who actually does ride a camel for the start of the race to get things going. The gate is lifted, the handlers let go, and off they go with fabric-covered coffee-pots sitting just behind their humps.

As the title implies, its not much of a spectator sport. You can't see them when they are on the other side of the track, and the race is ~8 minutes long, meaning you wait a long time to see them come trotting through the finish line. After the group of American tourists left, there was only one person besides myself who looked like he was just there to watch, and that was a robed guy sitting in the first-class seats. Everyone else there was a handler, a driver, a cook, a security guard, or racetrack staff.

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I stayed for about an hour, and then it was off for the next event - the "Open Hearts, Open Minds" tour discussion at the Jumeirah mosque, the only mosque in the entire UAE open to non-Muslims.

I have learned a lot about Islam during my trip, but from some of the guided activities of OAT's Morocco adventure and then in one-on-one discussions with locals, but it was again fascinating to have such a well-spoken and open Emirati lead us through the ritual ablutions prior to entering the mosque (3x each for hands, feet, arms up to elbows, mouth, face, nose, insides of ears). I am constantly impressed at how knowledgeable almost every practicing Muslim is about not just the Quran but also the Bible and the Torah. All of the players from the other holy texts are considered prophets of god, so Muslims know the story of Jesus as well as many Christians, though they stop at calling him the son of God. FYI - "Islam" means "submission" in English.

Abdullah, our guide (who later admitted that he is not an imam but a real estate exectutive) first started by discussing the architecture and the function of parts of the mosque. Since he was standing in the niche, this lead nicely to an explanation of the Ka'bah, the holiest place of worship in Islam and a cube at the Sacred Mosque of Mecca. It was built by Abraham as a landmark for worshipping god and itself is a small structure in one of the corners of the larger structure that was erected there in later years to facilitate the enormous number of pilgrims and there is a family that has been chosen to make the black fabric covering of the Ka'bah for centuries.

He next took us through prayers, answered questions about gender differences, wedding rituals, prayer beads, and the role of imams. The entire experience was about an hour long and I found it fascinating. To most of us in the US, Islam is some very nebulous idea practiced by a few Fundamentalists in the Middle East. What I have learned is that it is a HUGE religion and that even to be a very basic practictioner, you have to have a very deep commitment to God and an impressive awareness of the holy text.

Since I only have two more days left, the rest of my day was spent running errands: back to the Karama Center to try and pick up some Indian textiles and to find a box for shipping; back to the Ramee Hotel Apartments to pick up my passport (I discovered quite by accident that I did not have my passport this morning!); back to Jumeirah to pack up the box and to take a quick dip in the Gulf; and then to the Post Office in Karama. Even though the costumes and textiles that I have been buying over here are fairly cheap, I am probably doubling their price with the amount of postage I keep requiring to ship things home! Thursday night over here is the start of their weekend, so it was impossible to find a cab back over to the Creek so I got my exercise in so that I could go barter for more costuming supplies. I dropped a couple of hours there, and then ended up walking for another hour before I found a taxi that was being vacated in the middle of the street at a traffic light. I saw someone get out through the left side and I went careening through the traffic to jump in the right side.

Back at the Jumeirah Beach Residence I chilled out with Adam for a while and finally fell exhausted into bed. If any of my bosses at work notice that I am not well-rested when I return, its because I am not "vacationing" - I am "travelling". There is a huge difference and I am going to need to figure out how to get a few days of vacation out of the next two weeks!

The Muslim Prayer:

Allaahu Akbar (4x)

Ashhadu Allah ilaaha illa-Lah (2x)

Ash Hadu anna Muhamadar rasuulullah (2x)

Hayya' alas Salaah (2x)

Hayya' ala Falaah (2x)

[Fajr only] A-Salaatu Khayrun Mina-Naum (2x)

Qad qaamitis Salaah (2x)

[Iqama only - not recited in Athan] Allaahu Akbar (2x)

Laa ilaaha illa-Lah

God is great. (x4)

I bear witness that there none worthy of worship except God. (x2)

I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of God. (x2)

Come to prayer. (x2)

Come to felicity. (x2)

[Fajr only] Prayer is better than sleep. (x2)

[Iqama only] Our prayers are now ready. Our prayers are now ready. (x2)

God is great. (x2)

There is none worthy of worship except God.

Camel Races

Salaat

IDENTIFY YOURSELF PLEASE :)

2007-11-07T12:39:00.000-05:00

Hi all you voyeurs out there in the "real" world back home!

I can hardly believe that this trip is winding down - it is hard to imagine that time has passed and September has become November when the temperature in the countries that I have visited recently keeps rising! Today it was a balmy 90 F in Dubai. I am hoping that the temperatures in Greece and France will remind me that it really is fall and it is time that I start thinking about getting back to work.

I know many of my close friends and family members have been faithfully checking the blog out. Its extensive, so its okay if you only look at the photos and you don't read every word. I have no way of knowing just how many people have been interested in my travels around the world over the past few weeks, so I am asking all you readers to do me a favor this time.

If you have read any of my posts, I invite you to leave me a comment on this post just so I know that you have stopped by. I don't need you to wax poetic about the exciting quality of my prose - I just want to get a sense of how many people I have been traveling with since late September.

Thanks so much!

DRAFT More "Do"-"Buy" (11.7.07)

2007-11-07T05:31:00.001-05:00

Souq Madinat Jumeirah Burj al Arab
"Downtown"

Emirates Towers from Highway Workers on a break

Signage for Jumeirah Beach Residence
Dubai Marina: Under Construction

Dubai Marina: Under Construction
Sunset
Worker at Sunset on Beach
Video of Sundown on Beach in Dubai

It was a somewhat disappointing day in Dubai, since I didn't get much done - either in terms of sightseeing or vacationing. I started the day by catching a shuttle to the Big Red Bus stop at Souq Madinat Jumeirah to use the remaining 4 hours of my 24-hour pass. I wandered into the Souq, which is basically an upscale Arabian themed mall with overpriced textiles, jewelry, and home-furnishings. It is sandwiched between a five-star hotel (surprise!) and the seven-star Burj-Al-Arab. I didn't find anything of great interest there other than a working wind-tower. I don't think I have mentioned these contraptions yet, but they are featured in several photos from Monday. These are the traditional air-conditioning systems for Dubai homes. They are large open towers that are quadrisected on the diagonal and act as wind-catchers to funnel the ocean breezes down into traditional homes. Most of the ones that I have seen at the museums are not longer open to the room below, and thus you can't tell if they really work. But the ones here do and actually do pull in quite a breeze!

I hopped on the bus with the intention of making it to an area of Dubai called Karama before the Dubai Charity Shop closed at 2. Since this is the land of shopping, I was going to partake responsibly and see what labels the "Jumierah Janes" and Ladies Who Lunch had discarded at the Emirati version of Goodwill. Mistake number 1 - don't use the Big Red Bus if you actually want to get somewhere in a reasonable time. I boarded the bus at 11:20 am. I arrived at Karama at 1:55 pm after driving back through all the sites that I had seen yesterday. Mistake number 2 - I arrived at ~2:00. Karama is one of the original neighborhoods that was created for expatriate workers and is largely Indian. Though I ever actually found the charity shop, I found the Karama Marketplace and started to wander through looking at dozens of shops with Indian saris and sulvar kameezes. Just as I got out of the dressing room after trying on my first blouse, I was told it was closing time. ALL the stores in the area closed between 2-4:30. So after my 3:00 ordeal to get there, I was not interested in sticking around another 2.5 to buy things that I don't really need. Thus, I burned a little time in an internet cafe and then caught a $20 taxi back to the Jumeirah Beach Residence at the Dubai Marina where I am now staying.

I arrived back at around 4 with the plan to make a quick sandwich, hit the beach, and then catch a 7:30 tango lesson / show at the Hilton Hotel Resort next door. Adam showed up for a break between craziness at his work (http://www.tradingacademy.com/dubai/index_dubai.htm) a little after I arrived and we chatted for a bit while I ate. Then it was off to the very fine sand and warm waters of the Persian Gulf for a dip. After showering, I decided that I wasn't really interested in seeing the tango show, so I cancelled my reservation and settled in to catch up on the blog.

Here are some "fun facts" I learned about Dubai today during my tour:

The Burj Dubai is set to become the tallest building in the world.
Its final height has not been revealed, and it is designed in such a way as to be able to add floors at a later date (should it need to in order to remain the tallest building in the world).
There are over 3,000 construction workers working 24-hours per day in 12-hour shifts.
It is being completed at a rate of 1 floor every five days.
There will be an Armani Hotel on the bottom 40 floors, designed by Giorgio Armani
The Palm Jumeirah is open for business if you are interested in becoming neighbors with the Beckhams or the Cruises.
Petrol is cheaper than water (6 Dh/L vs. 7 Dh/L)
Foreigners can set up businesses in one of Dubai's 22 "Free Zones." Foreigners who operate within these zones can do so with no taxes and 100% ownership. If they chose to set up a business outside of the zone, they must have a local sponsor who has 51% ownership.
There are no income or property related taxes of any kind. There are no business taxes except in the banking industry.
Population of Dubai 971,000
Total number of registered automobiles 774,000
70% of Dubai's water comes from desalination of ocean water - >60,000,000 gal / day.
The government has a wedding fund for every Emirati citizen to help defray their exorbitant wedding costs.
A typical Emirati couple may have a wedding guest list of 5,000. And most of that is family!
The Mall of the Emirates has a -4F ski slope (Ski Dubai)
The Times Square Mall has a -6F ice lounge that serves mocktails (Chill Out)
A Dubai Mall is in the works for 2010 - it will be the size of 50 football fields and will take 5 days to fully experience.
24% of the world's cranes are in Dubai (30,000)
The bulk of the construction is set to reach completion in 2010.
One of the largest 5-star hotels spells out Dubai if you look at it from an aerial view.
The Dubai Marina is the largest man-made marina in the world (~3.5 km)
Highest per capita income in the world (for the Emiratis themselves)

DRAFT - PHOTOS ONLY (11.6.07)

2007-11-06T12:17:00.000-05:00

Diwali Celebrations at Hindi Temple near Gold Souk:

DRAFT - PHOTOS ONLY Dubai Day 1 (11.5.07)

2007-11-05T13:30:00.000-05:00

Apartment notices (look closely) Model of something in Dubai ;-)
Downtown from Jumeirah Emirates Tower
New to snow!

Ski Dubai
Bastakiah

Dubai Museum
Dubai Museum - girls in clothing during celebration after learning Quran

Water desalination information at museum
Textiles souk (aka Hindi Lane)

I can't get away from COSTUMES!

Abra (water taxi) landing

Creek at sunsetSheik Rachid bin Saeed al Maktoum house
Sunset over old watchtower
Keeping the hookah coals hot
Deepak - a very good young textiles merchant

Animal Planet in Arabic In Ramee Hotel Apartments in New Galabeya

Dubai Arrival (11.4.07)

2007-11-05T13:15:00.000-05:00

It happened! I had to leave Cairo :(. It was a bittersweet departure for me, since despite swearing on the first day that you couldn't pay me enough to live in the grungy, loud, in-you-face, hustle-and-bustle city of 17 million people, by the last day I had gotten comfortable with some of its ideosyncracies. But it wasn't until I hit the sterile and stratified world of Dubai that I really missed Cairo.

Flight was at 9:00, so I got approximately 1.5 hours of sleep between packing, hanging out with Let Me Inn staff, and getting up at 5:45 to get to airport. I can no longer be considered to be traveling "light", since both my backpack and daypack are stuffed to the gills and straining at the zippers and I have a duffel bag that is also full to the brim with over $1000 worth of costumes for the troupe.

I don't remember much of the flight from Cairo, though I remember very clearly not really being ready to leave Zizo, my new friend and guide through the Cairo craziness, when it was time to check in at the departures hall. At the Cairo airport, the check-in desks are AFTER security, so I ended up saying my final goodbye through safety glass. I was also mortified to be leaving with an unpaid hotel bill. I had a mix-up about how much money I could get out of the machines in a 24-hour period and ended up having some fairly embarrasing situations of having to borrow money and then not being able to pay them back. I think Western Union is in my future.

I was fast asleep during most of the 4-hour flight to Dubai, and upon arriving noticed a distinct change in infrastructure at the Dubai airport. Enormous wallboards advertised real estate development and Rolex watches and signs were everywhere and well-lighted. Standing in line at passport control took well over an hour, despite the fact that there were probably 20 lines open. There must have been 600 people in the lines at any given time, with a good third of them being dark-skinned Indians, Pakistanis, and Bangladeshis who are likely coming to work on the booming construction crews in Dubai.

I got my luggage and headed for the taxi stand. Another shocker! Instead of two dozen young guys hollering at you to be your guide or to find you a taxi, you get in a very civilized que and a large sedan pulls up with a uniformed driver. Very few words are spoken at anytime in the exchange (contrast this with the half hour of banter I had with almost every Cairo taxi driver whether they spoke English or not). The windows are up, the airconditioning is on, there is a meter running, and the entire ride is eerily silent. No road noise, no wind noise, honking, no pedestrians in the road, no bartering on price. The roads in Dubai are well paved, though they aren't real creative with their naming. While the major throughfare get actual names, the rest are just given a neighborhood number and a street number. Thus, my current apartment hotel is on Al Rollo Street near street 22. Its not really a grid system, so the naming of the streets seems strange.

Whereas at the airport it seemed that 100% of the staff was Emirati, with the women wearing slimming black abayas and sequined black headscarves and the men wearing the traditional white shirt-dress and white headscarf/black headband combo, the hotel seems the be staffed entirely with Indians. It is impossible to know which language to speak here! I think that English is the happy medium, but today (Monday) I was approached by a group of foreign tourists who wanted to take my photo by the Creek. I asked where they were from and they said Iran. When I asked if they spoke Farsi, they answered in Arabic and said they only spoke arabic...hmmm.

I have two nights at this hotel and decided I was going to make the most of the $100+ that I am spending on it. I went for a short walk to get my bearings, check email, and pick up some dinner, and then spent the rest of my waking time (not so much) channel surfing the multilingual cable channels. I enjoyed Indian soap operas, clips from old Arabic movies and modern music videos, and both CNN and Animal Planet in English before falling asleep while skimming an instructional video that I purchased from Mohamed on my last night. I will have to work harder at being a tourist tomorrow!

Last day in Cairo :( (11.4.07)

2007-11-05T13:14:00.002-05:00

Music Store Scarf wholesaler

Street food. Note serving "dish". Cotton for sale

Gates to City near Khan El Khalili

My new burqa (and future husband #12)
Me and my sparklies headed to Post Office!

Khoshary counter

Khoshary at table

Sylvana & Hanan Mahmoud

Mohamed Shahin
Second half of Saidi dance by Mohamed Shahin

www.mohamedshahin.com

Oh my goodness. It is my last day in Cairo and I just realized that my trip is coming to an end just when I felt it was beginning. Though I have been on the road since late September, these two weeks in Cairo were the first time that I was by myself and really able to kick around and see a city in the way that I enjoy - by meeting people and wandering the streets. I haven't really learned about Egypt and Egyptians in the same way that I learned about Morocco on the tour, so I still would like to come back one day and do a tour that will take me up and down the Nile from Alexandria to Aswan. On the other hand, I was able to put down a few roots in Cairo and I think they are going to last longer than my photos from Morocco.

I wasn't so good at the "early to rise" thing this morning, and then I had to wait a little bit for Zizo to finish with customers. After finding a few Saidi costumes late last night, I wanted to go out to find a few more in the market and he had some connections. In addition, the one gift that Omid requested and that I couldn't find last night was a "good quality riqq." Zizo took me to Sharia Mohamed Ali where there were music shop after music shop with the most beautiful riqqs, daffs, ouds, tablas, and mizmars crowding every window display. I discovered I have no idea what a good quality riqq is, and the shop owners were certainly not predisposed to tell me that they sell bad quality riqqs. Thus, Omid will just have to be happy with what I brought him. I just hope he can figure out how to play it.

After shopping, the rush was on to get everything I have purchased over the past two weeks sorted and packed to try and make it to the Post Office prior to its closing. Here again Zizo was indispensable, greasing the hands of the proper authorities, translating forms, and generally helping me get everything in order. He keeps trying to convince me to go into the import business with him - that we can make big money in the US with bellydance gear. I on the otherhand am not ready to turn my happy hobby into any more of a business stress that it already is.

My 31kg box of sparklies successfully packed and on its way to a friends house in the US, it was a mad dash back to the khoshary joint for some quick eats. Khoshary is a famous Egyptian fast food and consists of mixed spaghetti and macaroni noodles, cumin-laced tomato sauce, dried lentils and fried onion pieces. It is ready at your table before you even have a chance to get your money out of your pocket, so it was perfect for the stressful 45 minutes that I had between finally getting the box in the mail and the time that I was supposed to meet Mohammed for my last class with him.

In the end, class started very VERY late. Mohamed picked me up 1.5 hours after we originally intended to meet and we went to costume designer/atalier Hanan Mahmoud who had stayed open waiting for me. Of course nothing happens quickly...after trying on a few bedlahs and costumes, we had to sit down with Ms. Hanan and several other clients / family members while they ate take-out food. Then when I asked about skirts it took another 20 minutes to dig the models that I was interested from under piles and piles of plastic bags in a small storage room (there are no wearhouses in Cairo - things are stored whereever and however they will fit!). And then the negotiations began. Ugh. I did not intend to buy anymore costumes, but they were really nice and I had a few students in mind, so there it goes. I guess I am getting into the import business after all. The only problem was that I didn't have any cash on me and ended up having to borrow money from Mohamed. This wouldn't have been such a big deal had I been able to withdraw money from the ATM machines after class, but I ended up having a serious cash flow problem on my last night in Cairo.

We had a good last class in which we finished a Saidi cane number and the Mohamed recorded me dancing both of the choreographies that I learned over the past week. The last bit of the evening with Mohamed included a really nice chat about dancing and life in general while driving around from ATM to ATM so that I could try and get more cash out of the machine. I was able to pay Mohamed what I owe him, but I had very stressful negotiations with the costumer with whom I had ordered the troupe costumes and ultimately had to pay an extra 6% to use credit card. There were some issues with the order as well, and I just have all my fingers and toes crossed that they will fit everyone when I get them home.

Despite all the craziness of Cairo, there is something that I really enjoyed about it. I think it is that it is a really engaging city. Perhaps people are just engaged with me because I am clearly a foreign woman and that means I have dollars in my pocket to spend and could potentially mean a easy green-card to a REALLY lucky Egyptian man. Despite knowing this, I think any interaction is far preferable to me to the more reserved and sterile environments of Europe and the US. It remminds me of the difference between North and South in the US. In the South, even if we don't say hi on the street when we pass strangers anymore, we will usually give each other a smile at the check-out counter. I am a Southerner by birth and blood, so there is something about friendly Cairo that feels like coming home.

Taking care of bidness - next to last day (11.2.07)

2007-11-05T13:14:00.001-05:00

Today's goal was last minute shopping so that I could take my wares to the post office tomorrow morning, but once again I got a late start out of the hostel and didn't feel like doing much shopping. On my way to pick up some Hard Rock Cafe paraphenalia for Juliana (who got sick on her last night and couldn't get it), I walked by the American University in Cairo and snapped a photo. On the way back from the HRC I stopped into the Semiramis Intercontinental to try and find out how to buy the photo of me and Dina with no luck. Dinner was in Sbarro and then I was too stuffed to do the clothing shopping on Talaat Harb street that I had been planning on doing all week.

I then realized that I had to go by the Khan El Khalili for the 10th time in 15 days to pick up costumes from the Mohameds and get anything else that I wanted to ship. Zizo came with me and took me to some places that he knew of to try and find Saidi costuming and some "bedoin" jewelry. I talked to my mother briefly on the phone who suggested that I not get bogged down in the chores of shopping but to try and enjoy my last few days. I thought about it and realized that tis is one of the things that I am enjoying about Cairo. I am here with a purpose and a mission and it makes me feel a little bit more alive in the city.

Zizo and I left the market after most of the stores closed up, so ended up wandering through the dirty back streets of the old Jewish quarter. It was then "early" to bed since I have an action packed day of shopping, shipping, and dancing tomorrow!

Pyramids, Pyramids, Pyramids (11.1.07)

2007-11-02T08:29:00.000-04:00

Unfinished buildings don't pay property taxes:

Giza skyline

Anyone want to marry Ali? He's looking for a green card :)

Ceiling of Red Pyramid
Inside Red Pyramid
Sylvana & Jessie (Australian) on Red Pyramid

Smog in air over cement factory
Bent Pyramid at Darshur

Saqqara Oasis
Smog from Saqqara

At Saqqara with Abu Sir and Giza in distance
Saqqara Original steppe pyramid at Saqqara
Boy at food stop

Khoshary to go in the back of our taxi

On Thursday morning I jumped back in with both feet into seeing the sights around Cairo. The folks at Let Me Inn arranged a driver for Jessie (Australia) and I, and we set out at around 9:30 am for the Pyramids at Giza. The itenerary was Giza, Dahshur (the Bent Pyramid and the Red Pyramid) and the Pyramids at Saqqara. I didn't learn to much history about the sites from our guides, and we tried to read a bit about them in our books, but I am just going to leave this entry as a photo journal and let you guys enjoy their majesty.

Christian Cairo on Halloween (10.31.07)

2007-11-02T06:55:00.000-04:00

I know, I know, Christian Cairo sounds like an oxymoron, but believe it or not, Cairo was very Christian before the arrival of the Arab conquerers in the 7th Century AD. After a few days break from being a real tourist, I decided it was high time to get back out into the big brown world of Cairo. The goal today was Coptic Cairo and I decided to try to brave the Metro system to get there. I wandered through the streets talking on the phone with Jeanna (how cool talk on the cell phone while walking to the Metro in Cairo) and after figuring out where I was and getting off the phone with Jeanna, I got up the guts and headed down the strairs in to the hot and steamy station under Midan Tahrir. All the sources said that they best way to get to Coptic Cairo/Mar Girgis station was the Metro, but it turned out that no one actually mentioned how to do it. Thank be to Omid for teaching me the Arabic alphabet, because that is the way that I read the subway map and figured out which line I needed to take. My math skills came in handy too when the ticket seller tried to give me only 4 LE change rather than 19 LE. Crazy cheating bastard! I finally made it to the platform, watched a few music videos while I waited, and then when the train (direction Helwan) appeared, I shoved myself onto the car with the rest of the sweaty masses and 4 stops later emerged in a very different place than the one I left - Mar Girgis station right outside of Coptic Cairo.

Coptic Cairo is the ancient center of Egyptian Christianity, and even today CHristians make up 10% of Egypt's population, though apparently most live in Middle Egypt rather than the Lower Egypt. The site of Coptic Cairo was occupied by Romans prior to Christ and for the most part exists withing a large walled compound that is home to ~6 churches, a synagogue, and the Coptic Museum. The museum was my first stop. Since they took my camera at the entrance, I didn't get to take any photos of the dozens of carved pillars and palistrades and painted friezes and niches, but they were very interested. In particular, the paintings depicted Christ and various saints, and the museum even had 1500-year-old textiles that were used by monks and priests of the Christian faithful. I learned that Coptic is its own language, with roots in both Greek and Pharonic hieroglypics, and that hermeticism began in Egypt and then was exported into Europe.

I then visited the Greek Orthodox church of St. George and the Church of St. Barbara, both built well over 800 years ago. I have to admit that in a culture that is completely dominated by Islam in both religious practice and cultural values, to see groups of Egyptians filing into the churches, placing their hands on the 18th century Christian icons, and then kissing their hands was completely unexpected and fascinating. Seeing Greek lettering and crosses on graves that also contained Arabic text seemed like an impossible juxtaposition. If I have learned anything about Islam since I have been in the Middle East it is that they hold their faith with the most absolute conviction that God exists, that Mohamed was his prophet, and that the Muslim faith is the final and most perfect iteration of God's word. Thus, to see a group of people who are culturally Egyptian but who have managed to retain their faith so strongly in the midst of an ocean of the Muslim faithful is quite amazing to me.

Unfortunately, I had started my day late nad all the churches within the walls closed at 4, so I did a little souvenir shopping in the shops just outside the walls, had a delicious meal of rice, vegetables and falafel at a sidewalk cafe, and enjoyed my own company for about an hour while one of the dozens of local stray cats cleaned itself under my feet.

When I was ready to go, I was approached by a man asking if I needed a taxi. We settled on a rate to the Khan El Khalili and I was ready to get going. I was so grumpy all day...needed a little space from the incessant crush of people all around...so I was not too happy when I discovered that my taxi was not a taxi at all. It was a guy with a car who desperately wanted to stop and tell me about this mosque and that wall and to offer me a "very good special price just for you" to Saqqara tomorrow. I declined curtly, but did end up taking his number should I decide to continue being a tourist towards the end of the week.

For about the 7th time in two weeks I ended up at the Khan El Khalili, first to do a little souvenir shopping, and then to find new bedlahs for my group at home. I wasted a good 20 minutes in a tourist shop with a sleazy salesman bring out 1 poor quality sequined bedlah after another until I got pissed off when he abandoned me mid-sentence to tend to another customer who had wandered loudly into the tiny store. As I fled down the alley with one of his staff calling after me in protest, I spied a professional costume shop on the left and ducked in. The whole two story shop probably had a smaller footprint than a typical American walk-in closet, but it was packed with dozens of gorgeous costumes. I spent some time upstairs in the small section of bedlahs, identified my preference to have two-piece belts for a better fit on my dancer's hips, and spent another 30 minutes pulling sizes and color preferences for a my now 11-member troup out of my email. All I can think of now is how much cash I am going to have to withdray from the ATM on Saturday when I need to pay for it all. (And this doesn't include figuring out how I am going to get it all home!)

No trip to the Khan El Khalili would be complete without stopping by my friends at Mohamed Kamel Costumes, so I headed over there at around 8:30. I first signed the mirror that I had delivered on Monday, and then started asking about Saidi costumes and skirts. Of course that didn't last long as I got talked into to trying on dress after dress of the professional Oriental style. By the time I was done (having found nothing specific), it was 10:30 and I was once again sticky with sweat and tired!

When I got back to the hostel, a new group of students had arrived to an already full hotel, and my dance room was now filled with mattresses on the floor and there were bodies spilling out of every corner. The common room was crowded with new faces, but we had a nice evening as the staff had purchased a birthday cake for one of the guests and we all hung out and ate cake. I am going to miss hostel life when I head to Dubai - not only the prices (unbeatable at $10/night) but also the culture in which you get to meet people from all over the world and find people to travel with. I arranged to do the major pyramid sites around Cairo with a young Australian woman for tomorrow morning, and went to bed far, far to late :).

Another slow day...getting sick? (10.30.07)

2007-10-31T05:49:00.001-04:00

I am writing this on Monday, November 5, and the photos were taken last Tuesday, October 30. Thus, I actually have very little recollection of what I did this day. The photos are of the drive to Heliopolis with Mohamed Shahin for one of my dance classes and of the atalier that we went to afterwards so that I could look at costumes.

PHOTOS ONLY - Sightseeing in the markets (and Randa Kamel again) (10.29.07)

2007-10-30T07:35:00.000-04:00

Worn out (but still dancing) (10.28.07)

2007-10-30T06:39:00.000-04:00

Shar Hashamaim Synagogue next door to hostel Saying goodbye to all Zizo's merchandise
Soraya
Sylvana & Moustapha at Soraya show
Soraya in action

I guess I am getting the hang of this Cairo time thing, since I didn't get up until 11 am for my free breakfast at the hostel. I had class with Mohamed in the afternoon, and after my poor showing in the studio on Friday night I knew I had better get some practice in. I floated from room to hall to room in the hostel, trying to find a good place to practice this rather large-floor-space dance, and ended up sharing a large foyer space with Zizo as he was packing up the merchandise to send to his wholesalers. I have to admit that at first I was nervouse about anyone being around who might be able to watch me, especially an Egyptian. Things go better when I realized that he had better things to do than to watch me stumble around pretending to be a dancer. Things got even more relaxed when I started digging through his box of goodies as it was being packed for shipmnet. I would use a chiffon skirt for one song, a velvet skirt for the next one, and back to a double layer chiffon & sequin skirt for the next one. I was at it for an hour and a half (for only 2 minutes of choreography), and managed to work myself into a lather despit all of my costume changes and a break to chat with a Canadian dancer that came through the hostel.

I finished my "rehearsal" at 2:45 but then was picked up at 3:30 by Mohamed for our two hour session in the afternoon. We managed to finish the choreography to his edited version of "Raks Bedeya" and I am very excited about it. There are a few dubious transitions for me, but the finale is awesome and I now need a place to perform it! We are going to start on Tuesday with Saidi / cane dancing and I am going to start hunting for a good costume at the end of the week.

By the time I got back to the hostel at 5:45, I was completely spent. That finale was very energetic and I felt like I was back in one of Yousry Sharif's NYC workshops with the spinning and arabesques and sweat. Knowing I had yet another show to go see in the evening, I tried to nap before dinner with no luck. The staff at Let Me Inn made dinner for everyone in the hostel (this place is so nice to us! The floors are a little disgusting, prompting me to tell them that I would buy them a vacuum cleaner, but it has been a great decision to stay here.)

After dinner I tried again (unsuccessfully) to nap, and ended up getting ready and heading out to the Cairo Sheraton around midnight for the show with Soraya. I met Moustapha, the Abu Dhabi based banker that I had crossed paths with the day before while trying to purchase the tickets in the Sheraton. I don't know what it is about "I am going to a show, you are going to show...why not go to the show and sit together," that gets translated as, "I am now signing up to be your young American girlfriend," but there were a few awkward moments in an otherwise pleasant evening. The opening band was less than inspirational, but not bad. Soraya came on stage with her 20-piece band at around 2 and she was indeed TINY! I had seen her costumes as works-in-progress at Raqia Hassan's atalier on Thursday, and it was very interesting to see them on her. According to Raqia, "Soraya only likes glue...no sewing like the Americans."

I was completely shocked when Soraya came out in 3-inch silver heels to dance, and danced in them the whole time. Her style (in my eyes) is a lot more active than Randa's. She acts out many of the lyrics in the music and seemed to shimmy or somehow wiggle almost the entire time. Of course the music was amazing, and we closed out the show at 4:00 am.

I had cup of tea and some chocolates with Moustapha afterwards and then headed home in a taxi against Moustapha's protests that it was too late and I should wait until first light. No way. I was again shocked when I arrived back at the hostel that there were four people hanging out in the common room, so I was up until 5:00 am chit-chatting and rehashing my evening with the Canadians and Americans staying up all night until their early flight the next morning.

Making friends and influencing people (10.27.07)

2007-10-28T07:45:00.001-04:00

Eman Zaki & Raqia Hassan's doorsNile from Gezira Island

Cairo Tower Sylvana, Moustafa, Geri at Egypt Museum
El Abd Bakery

Zizo and his merchandise
My favorites
The technique lession with Raqia Hassan actually happened this morning although not without a funny story to go with it. I arrived at her house a little early, sat down in one of her living room chairs, and watched some of the activity of the house as it played out in front of me. Saturday is apparently cleaning day, and Raqia and her claning person shuffled up and down the hallway with loads of laundry and etc. in their hands. I was eventually brought into the home "studio" and we began our lesson.
*
It was very good to get this one on one instruction. Raqia has a clear eye and a very specific idea of the "right" way to do oriental dance and she gave me several techniques I had to drill before we moved on.

The moves we covered were:

Hip sways walking F & B (alternating palms U & D)

Hip pops walking F & B (alternating palms)

Hip circle stepping R & L (I need to work on balance for en pointe dancing)
1/2 hip circle (R only, L only) while walking sideways

Walking forward with alternating 1/2 hip circle

Walking forward w 1/2 circle and accented trailing hip

Figure 8 up with straight legs, same with 2 hip drop accents.

*
The amusing/frustrating part of the experience was that she would come in, show me a move, and then disappear to answer the doorbell, play with her granddaughter, or fold laundry. I would be left trying to figure out if I was doing it right or not and I certainly don't want to keep drilling the "wrong" technique. I was ready for my hour to be up and forked over the 400 LE before fleeing the premises.
*
However, right before I left I asked her about Soraya, a dancer that I keep hearing people mention, and was told that she was dancing at the Cairo Sheraton this weekend. I decided to start walking back to the downtown area over the Nile and lo and behold stumbled upon the Cario Sheraton. I went in to try to get information and a reservation for a Soraya show and ended up picking up a new friend as I was sent to three different desks before finding someone to ask about price and times. Moustapha Ali is the name of my new friend and he isa 50-something banker originally from Alexandria but now living in Abu Dhabi, UAE. He has been in Cairo for over a month working on opening a new branch of his department (delinquent loans or something) and I think he was thrilled at the idea of meeting someone not related to his work. We made arrangements to go see the show on Sunday night (why not) and then he ended up walking with me over the bridge to the downtown area as we chatted about his kids and the differences between Egypt and UAE.
*
I invited him to join me at the Egypt Museum where I was going to meet Geri Olson, the Minnesotan from Let Me Inn, to share the cost of the cost of a guide. In the end we were treated to the guide by Moustapha and enjoyed a very informative 2-hour tour of the highlights of the Egypt Museum by Georgois. I think Moustapha would have happily come along to anything that I had planned, as he said he hasn't taken time to be a tourist anywhere in the world, but I think going out tomorrow night will suffice. We took a cab back to the hostel, I grabbed some internet time, and then took a nap until 7:00 when I was to be picked up by Mohamed to see the Sufi whirling dervishes at the Al Ghouria complex (see Tanoura entry).
*
We had ice cream on Talaat Harb after the show, and I wasn't over my sugar need when he dropped me off so I decided to try my hand at the famous El Abd Confectionary. There wasn't nearly enough sugar in any of the cookies, so clearly I am going to have to go for straight chocolate this afternoon.
*
When I got back to the hostel I stayed up far to late looking at all the sparkly things that Zizo was packing up to send to his wholesalers in Europe, and I managed to get a pair of gold dancer slippers out of him in addition to the silver ones he already gave me. He is a very funny guy, but I think that everything that comes out of his mouth is said in a half-joking manner so I never know when he is being serious and when he is full of s***. It has been fun to banter with him over the past week, though!

Tanoura (Skirt Dancing) (10.27.07)

2007-10-27T18:25:00.000-04:00

Segat Player at Ghouria Complex

Sufi Dancing at Ghouria Complex

More Tanoura dance

On Saturday night, Mohamed Shahin picked me up to go to the Al Ghouria complex for a free "performance" of Tanoura, or skirt, dancing. I have not known to much of the history of Tanoura, since most of the time when I have seen it, it has been in the context of a dance performance. However, the members of this group are actually Sufi, and while there is a stage and lighting and all of the elements of a good performance, it was also very clear that it was religious in origin.

*
The music was the first thing to start - 2 Rebabas, a Salamiyyah, and a Mijwiz. They played a 5 minute drone as a line of percussionists came on stage. Two tablas, 8 tars, and a segat player. The music was incredible. Absolutely amazing, not just because of the music, but also because as the evening progressed the percussionists began to dance and a singer and additional musicians were added up in the balconies. The music was all religious in nature, with the melody musicians wearing red sashes with "La Allah illa Allah" written on them. (There is no other god but Allah." After a 10-15 minute performance wear each musical instrument was featured in a call and response, the singer and the master dancer appeared. The man who danced probably spun in a CW circle for almost 20 minutes, and has he did I watched his expression changed from calm meditation to ecstatic smiling. He responded to the words of the singer with outstretched arms and head movements and it was very apparent that this was absolutely a form of worship. Mohamed told me that you see these dancers (and others of the Sufi sect) out on the streets when Muslims celebrate the prophet Mohamed's birthday.

What was very interesting was watching the percussionist/dancers as they were transformed in front of our eyes. Starting somewhat reserved and stiff at the beginning, by the end of their ritualized dancing they had rapturous smiles on their faces and were drenched in sweat as they hopped, spun, twisted, and lunged. I watched one guy lose control and start spinning for about 5 minutes with the guy in the middle as the rest of the group continued to dance around him. Equally amazing was the fact that when the dancers stop spinning, they stop on a dime with no apparent dizziness or disorientation.

A group of Saidi musicians including 4 whining Mizmars and a double-sided drum were the next up, and were followed by the entire musical company and 3 dervishes finishing the show in a stunning 15-minute spinning frenzy. I am considering going back there on Wednesday night and arriving even earlier so that I can see it again, but Karim suggested something else for Wednesday night so I will just have to see.

Afterwards I was able to ask Mohamed a lot of questions about life in Egypt and about his dancing and all in all it was a very powerful evening.

Taking it Easy (10.26.07)

2007-10-27T17:28:00.000-04:00

Breakfast room at Let Me Inn

Climbing on Felucca
From the bow
Egyptian party boat

Sylvana & Cap'n

Sharia Talaat Harb during prime shopping hours
Restaurant GAD
Sylvana & Keith at GAD
Mohamed Shahin

http://www.mohamedshahin.com/

I purposely didn't make any plans during the day today, as it followed the late late night at the Dina show on Thursday. I woke up at 11:30 just in time for breakfast and spent the early afternoon chatting with people in the hostel and then a couple of hours at the computer working on the blog.

I am having a great time in Cairo, but there is a part of me that feels I am not "doing Egypt" to its full extent. I thought about heading up to Alexandria or down to Luxor/Aswan, trying to see as much as possible while I am in the country. On the other hand, it feels SO great to be in a place more than two days and NOT have to pack my suitcase to move on to the next place. It is not like I am having a problem staying busy in Cairo. Between dance classes, shows, wandering around, and shopping, I am having a hard time getting more than 6 hours a sleep a night and I am never in the hostel. When I am here, I am typically on the internet (when I can get it) or eating. Despite the inner debate, I think I am here for the next week. Travel is a pain in the butt and no fun particularly if you are doing it alone and without a tour guide. Besides, I am seriously considering trying to come back for the Ahlan Wa Sahlan Dance Festival in June. I need to check out trial schedule at work and then start saving both money and vacation time!

At around 5 pm, two other hostel residents (Geri (Minnesota) & Keith (Canada)) and I hopped into a black and white taxi to try to catch a sunset felucca ride. Feluccas are ancient broad-sail boats that can be seen everywhere on the Nile. Unfortunately for us, daylight savings time was a couple of weeks ago, meaning that sunset is early. By the time we reached the area with the felucca captains we had missed sunset, but still had a really relaxing boat ride watching night fall and the moon rise. Our captain was a sweet older man who was desperately trying to be our tour guide...in Arabic...and it was funny to hear him shout the words louder and louder as it was clear that we were not understanding him. While we were out there, our boat crossed paths with what can only be described as an Egyptian party boat. It was adorned with neon green lights and completely enveloped in a bubble of thumping arabic pop music and the loud laughing and talking of the 400+ passengers.

We got back to shore at around 7:30 and wandered through the streets near Talaat Harb trying to find dinner. We finally settled on the Egyptian version of Shoney's that both Geri and Keith had eaten at the night before. Gad is a "fast food" restaurant in which the booths hold about 10 people, you are added to what booth has enough space for your group. Throughout the course of the meal we kept having to get up and down to let the people near the window on the inside and out.

I stuffed my face and got a thirty minute nap in before the next activity of the day...a dance class on "Cairo Time": Let me explain Cairo time - I assure you that it is quite differen from US time, and I am not sure whether the standard egyptian generally takes more naps, sleeps later, or just needs less sleep that then average American, but everything here operates much much much later than anything in Winston-Salem. I suspect that Cairo would even give NYC a run for its money on being a 24-hour city. During the night downtown, the streets are clogged with people until at least midnight, and the stores are open until at least 11. In Giza I saw a few boutique that were still open at 2:00 am, but who they catered to I have no idea. I only describe this because my dance lesson with Mohamed Shahin tonight was at 10 pm and lasted until after midnight. Ahh...Cairo time.

Mohamed (www.mohamedshahin.com) is a native Egyptian who was recommended to me by Karim Nagi (www.turbotabla.com). He is everything that Karim promised he would be: honest, personable, well-spoken, and an excellent dancer of both folkloric and classical styles. I asked him to teach me technique in the context of teaching me a choreography and for the last two sessions we have been working on an oriental/saidi choreography to Raks Bedaya (dancers - this song is on one of the BDSS CDs). My technique is terrible, I am nervous when I dance alone, and I am very glad to be working through it slowly enough to try and correct small things like hand-positions, balance, and positioning. I think we will finish this choreography on Sunday afternoon and then start working on Saidi and Khaleegi next week.

I got back to the hotel after 12:30 and forched myself to go to bed (it wasn't hard) in order to be ready for the technique class with Raqia Hassan tomorrow morning.

A Strange Day of Dance (10.25.07)

2007-10-26T07:06:00.001-04:00

Flower vendor in Dokki, Giza

Raqia Hassan's living room Atalier with "Princess", women, & Raqia
"Shokolade"
Raqia & Shokolade
Tee-shirt in Market. Too small :(
New costumes!

Owner of store - Mohammed Kamel
Manager & designer - Mohamed Ali
Band at Semaris Intercontinental

Moustapha, my very sweet waiter
Dina and 25-member band
Dina
Birthday wishes

I am writing the draft of the Thursday blog on a scrap of paper pilfered from my waiter, Mustapha, and the Semiramis Intercontinential Hotel's nightclub, where it is well after midnight and I am at a table for one waiting to see the famed Egyptian dancer, Dina, perform. I have to admit that after the Marriot show with Randa, so far I am disappointed and am afraid it is not going to be worth the hefty pricetag ($100+). First, while there was not a bad seat in the horseshoe shaped theater at the Marriot, here I am second tier in a club with very low risers. Secondly, the music is AWFUL. Whereas the other club had a very energetic band and great music, the 4 singers and one keyboardist are regaling us with the Egyptian version of soft rock into an amplification system that gives their voices a cheesy dramatic echo. I think they are using the Karaoke versions of many songs, since at one point the backup singers stopped singing, and there were still at least two voices coming through ;).

At this time of night, there are only 15 other people in here, and one of them is Kay Taylor, a woman that I met at Raqia Hassan's house this morning (more on that bizarre experience to come) and leading a tour group from England around Cairo. Perhaps I have been in the South too long, since this is the second time that I have been disappointed by the reaction I am getting from other dancers I have met in Cairo. She was also cool, but also is shouldering a big responsibility for shepherding a dozen brits around Cairo, so perhaps she just has other things to worry about than giving me a few tips about where to go and who to see.
*
As for my strange day: This morning was to be a $60/hour (expensive) technique class with Raqia Hassan, a very famous teacher of Egyptian dance who organizes the now behemoth Ahlan Wa Sahlan dance festival each June in Cairo and is one of the principal teachers of many well known dancers here, including Astryd Farah DeMichele and Randa. We have been going back and forth over email since May and over phone since Tuesday, and I took a $5 taxi ride out to her house in Dokki at the appointed time for my first lesson. I was invited warmly into the apartment and sat down opposite Ms. Hassan in her living room to get aquainted. We chatted 15 minutes or so before the room starting to feel like a subway platform at rush hour, with people coming in and out. I think there was a son, a brother, a daughter-in-law, a granddaughter, and a cleaning lady. None of these people seemed to acknowledge my presence as they stepped over me and my bag, and finally at 11:45 a British woman walked in, gave kisses all around, the next thing I knew I was in the back of a small Fiat or something like that with Raqia, strange British woman, and Shokolade the dog, with two women and a 2-year old in the front seat. I figured out we were on our way to Raqia's atalier/costume designer and we entered yet another decrepit building with an elevator installed sometime in the 30s and last inspected in the 50s.

The costumer's shop was on the 5 floor and consisted of several rooms with couches and worktables and ~8 women sitting around hand-beading costumes. There were three men there as well, two of which were gluing costumes on a new costume for Egyptian dance star Soraya, and one of which, likely head honcho, cutting fabric. The whole costuming thing over here is fascinating, because in the US if it sparkles, it is a completely acceptable bellydance costume. But in Cairo, there are clearly fashions and trends. This year it is minimal beadwork, with bras that are less to cover and protect and more to act as a shelf for the breasts to rest inside (see photos above of Dina for case in point). A lot of the dresses have big slits in them, and include matching shorts underneath to prevent it from being too scandalous. We were taken into a locked back room with a couple of old couches and plastic bags piled 2 feet high on a shelf overhead and two of Raqia's girls started pulling costumes off the shelves and showing them to the other woman and myself. I learned that this woman is named Kay Taylor and is a buyer from the UK who is interested in taking several costumes back with her to see how they sell. I tried on a couple for myself and a couple that Kay wanted to see on, but they don't fit as well on me (I don't need a shelf for my breasts as much as something that makes me look like I have some ;-)), but the base price was $600 and I don't think this style of costume would go over well at 6th and Vine! During our stay, another woman named "Princess" came in to try on something she had ordered, but in the end seemed unhappy with it and left sans costume but with one of Raqia's sergers to finish creating drapes for her apartment.

Kay left first, and then Raqia and I left at around 2:30. She mentioned having a student coming later, and that was finally my opportunity to ask about my class. She looked at me and said with surprise, "You want a class too?" Umm...YEAH. I thought that was why I came out there in the first place. We got back to her house and I had to run to a bank machine so that I could afford both a class and the recently produced technique video, and when I entered her living room for a second time I was handed a plate of food and sat for another hour as another group of half a dozen people came in and out of the apartment. At one point I was sitting in the middle of a conversation between Raqia, her brother, and two 20-something young gentlemen who I have no idea who they are. Finally, at 3:35 I meekly asked whether she was going to have time for my class and she said, "Maybe Saturday better....can you come back Saturday morning." Ugh! I have to admit that I was extremely annoyed, but keep telling myself that I had a lot of interesting experiences anyway. I have a class with Mohammed on Friday night from 10 pm-midnight, so I am not sure I am going to be up for a 10 am class in Dokki.

I went straight from Raqia Hassan's to the Khan el Khalili to try to track down the "famous" costumer Mahmoud Abn Ahfar's store. I got lost a few times, ended up in another store buying some presents for people, and finally ended up there after an hour of wandering. It was a huge store - three levels of costumes. The first level was coin bras and belt; second level dresses and folkloric; third level cabaret costumes. The place was dark, quiet, and hot, and the kid who turned the lights on for me didn't speak much English. What he did say when I asked about prices or other colors was that he had to ask "Mr. Mahmoud, big boss." I tried on several costumes over the course of an hour, but when Mr. Mahmoud finally arrived from his evening prayers to talk to me about prices, I found him completely uninspiring and a bit rude. Not the person I want to fork over several hundred dollars to. I was still in a costuming mood, so I headed back to the main area and then spent the next 3 hours completely turning Mohamed Kamel's store upside down. I think I tried on about 15 and picked out 5 that I would like to purchase, plus he has many bedlahs that I am going to look at for my troupe. I am concerned that they might all be "standard size", so I am not sure they will fit everyone in the group, but I'll go back again and check it out. Both Mohameds (the owner and the manager) are really super guys, and if I am going to spend any money in Cairo, it is going to be with them.

Ladies who are reading this, let me know if there is anything you see that you want. I tried on a bunch more but am not posting photos. I could possibly post them on tribe if you want.

I only had about an hour to get back to the hostel to get cleaned up for the show, so I had to forego the much needed nap. On my walk to the Intercontinental at 11:30 pm I stayed on the phone the whole time because I seemed to be turning heads walking outside in a black tee-shirt and knee length skirt and sandals.

After the band finished, I had a good time at the show. I was invited to sit at a table of semi-drunk middle-aged men, and I accepted their offer because they had a better view than I did. I am not sure what they expected when they invited me over - one gentleman kept trying to push more whisky on me and wanted to put me up in one of his hotels. He must have figured out that he was barking up the wrong tree, because right after the show began he disappeared, never to return again. Alas. I ended up having to pay my own tab. Through one other the other men at the table, after the show I sat for a few minutes with another group in their mid-30s. They were planning to go out clubbing and invited me to go along, but it was 4:00 and I had a feeling that I was being mocked more than anything, so I bowed out and walked myself home. It was so pleasant to be on the streets of Cairo with no traffic and no noise!

As for the show itself, with the exception of the band, it was more than I expected. I had seen clips of Dina on YouTube and wasn't so impressed with her dancing. However, she is one of those people whose stage presence is completely captivating and completely takes over. She is a good dancer, but what you experience at the show is her smile and the depth of her expressions and emotions as she sings along to all of the songs she dances to. There was a birthday among the 30-somethings that I mentioned above, and Dina came out into the audience, helped the birthday girl cut the cake, and then fed her the first piece. It was actually quite charming. I still want to see Soraya, Katia, and Lucy, but I may try to go back to Randa's show at the Marriot. No cover, no minimum charge! ;). And a really good complete show.

DRAFT Cairo on foot - Day 1 of solo travel (10.24.07)

2007-10-26T07:05:00.003-04:00

Hotel entrance - 6th Floor 19B Adly StreetElevators circa 1930

Elevator Interior

Guy with a huge tray of bread on bicycle

Felluccas on Nile

Banyan

Soldiers on Corniche

Sofitel across Nile - note haze

Cairo Tower across Nile

Lunch and Journal at Semiramis Intercontinental

Zizo (Let Me Inn Staff) and costumes

Zizo, Min, Me in Let Me Inn sitting room

Wednesday - first day alone in Cairo.
I headed out of the hostel at around 10 am with the plan that I was going to walk to the island in the center of the Nile to see the ritzy area known as Zamalek. The streets were crowded, the day was hot, and I didn't feel like getting lost and wasn't sure what there was to see in Zamalek, so I turned around and headed for the Nile. 10:30 is apparently still part of rush hour, because not only were the streets filled with honking horns, and the sidewalks clogged with pedestrians, beggars, and street vendors, the cafe's were also full of people getting their morning breakfast of coffee, bread, and cheese. I took the main road of Talaat Harb for most of the walk to the Nile. It is almost 100% shopping, with glass fronted store windows lined up one after another with shoes, jewelry, and clothing. In particular, the windows of the clothing stores are at least 15' high and display at least 20 outfits on silvery mannequins.*The Semiramis Intercontinental was my first destination, both to use the facilities and to find out about seeing Dina, a very famous dancer, perform. After I made those arrangements I headed to the Corniche to walk along the Nile.

DRAFT PHOTOS ONLY-Changing Hotels...goodbye to Juliana & Kirk (10.23.07)

2007-10-26T07:05:00.001-04:00

Cairo unemployment solved - put them in uniformsSunset on Al-Haram Street
Lobby of Let Me Inn
My new digs: $8/night!

Tuesday for me was a wash. I

DRAFT-PHOTOS ONLY! Horses, shopping, and a show! (10.22.07)

2007-10-24T08:37:00.000-04:00

Starting to sightsee (& my first Egyptian wedding) (10.21.07)

2007-10-23T08:13:00.000-04:00

Taxi at night on Al-Haram in Giza:

Wedding Zeffa in Lobby:

I consider this my first "full" day in Cairo despite the fact that we didn't leave the hotel until 2:00 ;-). I woke up in Cairo and went to sleep in Cairo, so I think it counts.

First I am going to give a broad outline of the days activities, and then give some impressions of Cairo: We had a 10:45 breakfast but then didn't make it out of the hotel until 2:00 to go downtown by black-and-white taxi. We toured the Cairo Museum from 3:30-5:00 (highlights were King Tut and mummies), 5:00-6:30 dinner on Sharia Talaat Harb at Felfela Restaurant, 7:00-8:30 pm suck in toxic hydrocarbons during traffic jam back to Giza. When we returned to the hotel, Juliana and I went shopping for about an hour at a boutique next door, then she and Kirk disappeared for a nap and I ended up attending an Egyptian wedding/engagement party until 11, at which point I headed up to the local internet cafe until 2:00 am to try to catch up on the Spain blog.

Going to the Egyptian Museum was an adventure even before we ever saw our first artifact. We traveled by black-and-white taxi (see below) and once we finally found it we were met at the gate by some guy who told us that the museum was only open for tour groups and wouldn't re-open for travellers like us for another hour. We lost about 10 minutes talking to this guy before I finally figured out that it was one of the scams listed by the Lonely Planet guidebook in which you are told that your destination is closed for whatever reason, but this gives you the opportunity to come to their store/shop/kiosk where there is, coincidentally, a big sale going on. As soon as we broke free of that, we headed into a mob scene of over 300 people in the courtyard outside the museum. I am sure that it has a minimum of 1000 people on its grounds at any given time. We managed to run the first gauntlet of "guides" offering us to show us the museum and got into the musician through a metal detector only to be kicked back out because we hadn't checked our cameras at the entry. When we made it back in we had to run a second gauntlet of guides before we made it upstairs to the relics from King Tut's tombs and the mummy exhibit. The collection is amazing despite the minimalist display (glass and wooden showcase - signage optional). The sheer amount of gold and jewelry was amazing, but what was even more phenomenal were the actual pieces of dried fruit and intact flower bouquets from 1500 BC. Also, even though the art that I typically associate with pharonic times is flat and two-dimensional, there were mummies displayed with 3-D portraits of the deceased pasted to the head. They were amazing! On our way out we made a quick look around the first floor to get a sense of what else is in the museum, but considering the museum has 120,000 items on display (and another 150,000 more in the basement), the museum warrants another trip.

Lunch and shopping were fun but not worth writing about. But I do have to mention the wedding.

I found out about it when we came in from shopping and I saw a video crew in the lobby. I asked the front desk and they told me that it was a wedding and that I should come down for it if I was interested. I went up to my room and starting to take a bath, but upon hearing music and drums floating up from 5 floors below got me moving. I got into my new clothes from the boutique next door (see photo above) and headed downstairs. The first thing I saw was a mass of people in the hallway. This was the zeffa. A group of 8 musicians were dancing and playing in a circle around the couple, and they alternated between regular music and the traditional zeffa rhythm. There was an additional 20 minutes of music, and then the whole group was lead en masse down the stairs into the reception room. At first I was just going to see where they went, but one of the guests invited me several times to come down and see. I noticed a couple more gringos downstairs as well, so I headed downstairs and watched the bride and groom have their photo made while the rest of the guests went into the reception room. I did find out that they were in their mid-20s and that this was actually an engagement party. The wedding contract won't be signed for another 2 months.

I was struck not only by the couple itself, but by the young women attending the wedding. Though most skin is covered, they wear a lot of fashions that we would wear (spaghetti straps, halters, and cropped tops), but they wear tight neutral colored turtlenecks underneath them. The headscarves at this affair were elaborately folded, wrapped, and gathered, and the eyes were absolutely gorgeously made-up. I wondered how the women don't end up smelling like locker rooms after wandering around in the heat in turtlenecks and long pants, and I discovered them spraying perfume under their arms in the bathroom. No wonder Egypt is known for their perfumes.

I was befriended by a young guy of 20 who invited me into the hall, told me about the couple and the wedding. He insisted that it was okay that I was there, and kept insisting that I dance with the bride to share in her happy day. If everyone were dancing, maybe. But the way it was done was that everyone was crowded around a tight circle, and one-by-one close friends and family made their way in to dance with either the bride or groom. I might have done it if there were an open bar, but this was a Muslim wedding and the most I got was some kool-aid tasting punch. After about an hour, Hassan and the groom's brother dragged me into the circle to dance with the bride, but with my Western hang-up about wedding crashing and the thought of being included in this girls wedding video, I was absolutely mortified. I slowly backed out of the circle red-faced and with a palpitating heartbeat. I told Hassan that I needed to go the WC. He asked earnestly if I was coming back, to which I replied "maybe," and then ran out. I still feel bad that I never went back in, but I seriously was feeling bad about crashing the wedding and didn't think I could handle any more humiliation. Anyway, perhaps I will get a chance to go to another one!

Now I am going to ramble about Cairo itself. The Cairo that I have seen thus far is a dusty, grimy, and loud place. Littering is rampant and unless you are in some tonier suburbes that I have yet to see, green is a very rare color. When I woke up this morning, I sat at my table and studied the traffic outside my window on the main street of Giza: Al-Haram Street.

As I may or may not have mentioned before, Cairo traffic is CRAZY. I think most of my photos over the past two days have been of the traffic because it is such a major part of life. If you are not sitting in it, then you hear it. If you don't hear it, you know its there by the smog. I bet young kids from Cairo think that the sky is brown, since you can't even see clearly from one side of the Nile to the other. *At least one third of the cars on the roads are Cairo's ubiquitous black-and-white taxis. These are mostly 10-year old Russian cars with no air-conditioning and are likely held together by putty and duct tape. The cabbies are aggressive drivers, and when they are not honking for other reason, tend to honk everytime they see someone walking down the road as if to say "Hey, I see you walking! Wouldn't you rather drive?" The next 33% of internal combustion engines in Cairo probably belong to the microvans. These would be 10-passenger vans in the Western world, but hold as many as 22 Egyptians during Cairo's rush hour (which seems to lasts from 7 am-10 pm). It is a fascinating system to watch - the buses are operated by a driver and his assistant. The assistant hangs out of the open side door either calling out the buses destination or making a hand signal to indicate the same. I think half of Cairo's traffic problem may have to do with the fact that at least one full lane in each direction is taken up by people trying to get in or out of these microbuses. The passengers creep into the roadway trying to find a bus going in their direction (using the passenger version of the secret handshake) and when a match is made the passenger needs to be ready to run. The vans never actually come to a complete stop and quite often the passengers have to run down the road trying to jump into a moving van. The last 33% of autos on the road are either individual drivers (who have no business driving alongside the professionals) or the city buses that are crammed tight and look like NYC subway cars at 6:00 pm. The whole experience of getting from one place to another is a big combined game of "Chicken" and "Double-Dog-Dare." You need to make a u-turn across 5-lanes of traffic? No problem! Just get your nose into a brief space between bumbers and hope the oncoming traffic yields. Missed your exit on the interstate? Also not a problem! Just give your horns a few toots and back on up. Headlights are optional at night. I think maybe 5% of cars use their lights. Rather they are used to supplement the conversational honking. Did I mention that Cairo is loud? Not only is the horn used to get attention by taxi driveres, but all drivers are constantly honking to signify other things like, "Get moving!" "Get out of my way," "I'm on your left," "I am planning on turning," and "There is more than a 12-inch gap between you, oh car ahead of me, and the car in front of you. Wake up!" Last night we actually saw yellow flames leaping out of stalled car engine, and rather than clearing a wide path around the car, traffic was bunched up at the car, honking and beeping like there was no tomorrow. I do have to admit that it is much rarer here to see a donkey or horse in the road, but it does happen. One of my favorite sights today was a pick-up truck loaded to the brim with sitting camels.

Cairo-the arrival! (10.20.07)

2007-10-21T18:37:00.000-04:00

Juliana in lobby

From hotel restaurant balcony
From my window in Giza - Al Haram Street
At the Light Show
Cheesy musicians at the light show
On a mountain to the east of the city
Street vendor on the mountain...we had soup!
Khan el Khalili

Streets of Khan el Khalili
Looking around
Juliana & Kirk
I left Barcelona this morning at 6:45 am and was honestly shocked at what I saw in the streets when I left the hotel at 4:15 am. There were more people in "La Rambla" at that ungodly hour than are on the streets of Winston-Salem at lunch hour. The temperature in Barceona as I left was around 60F. When we changed planes in Zurich, the outside temperature was probably less than 40, and I watched everyone in the planeside bus pulling on sweaters and jackets as soon as they could. Four hours later I was in Cairo, and we all stripped down again as we stepped off the plane. And at that point my Cairo adventure began.
*
The first snafu was that I needed to purchase an entry visa but did not have any Egyptian pounds. The dozen or so money changers before customs wouldn't take my traveller's checks, and the bank machine was OUTSIDE of customs. It took me several attempts and I finally got a baby-faced policeman to walk me out to the ATM and then to walk me back to finish the customs process.
*
The second adventure involved finding the hotel. I must have looked like fresh meat to a taxi broker who quickly singled me out as I came through customs. We agreed upon a price to my final destination in Giza and he led me to a small newish car and my young driver, Sanah. We headed out and chatted during the drive, but from the beginning he freely admitted that he had no idea where the hotel was. We ended up driving to the very end of Al-Haram Street in Giza (at which point the pyramids appeared out of no-where amongst the crazy traffic and dusty old buildings of the city) and we couldn't find the hotel. We stopped at east 5 times to ask people on the street for information, and I had finally broken down and called Omid back home get him to look up the phone number when we finally found the Husa Pyramids Hotel.
*
I checked in with no problems and had no fewer than 5 people telling me that my friends were looking for me and would be back soon. I headed up to my 5th floor room to check it out. Probably by Cairo standards it is a pretty nice room, but by American standards it looks like something you would rent out by the hour. The walls are yellow-brown and odiferous from years of smoking in the room, the king bed is sagging and covered with a bed-spread that looks like it was last replaced in 1965. Each room of my two room suite (I lucked out!) has its own AC unit which clicks and whirs constantly. At first I was a bit annoyed by the sound, but later I realized that the units provide a welcome white noise against the incessant honking of car horns outside the window.
*
After I was in the room for less than an hour the phone rang. It was Juliana, a friend & student from home, and her boyfriend Kirk who happen to be in Cairo for a few days calling from the lobby. At that point I realized how relieved I was that it worked out for our travels to overlap. Not only am I on my own for the next three weeks, I am also in a totally foreign culture with a foreign language, and being alone could easily morph into feeling deeply lonely. I met them down in the lobby and we spent about an hour chatting and catching up before heading out to catch the 6:30pm English language version of the light show at the Pyramids. To get there we had to contend with Ahmad, a young driver/self-proclaimed tour operator, who they hooked up with on Thursday and have apparently been stuck with ever since for disappointing tours at highly inflated rates.
*
We made it to the show by the skin of our teeth and I have to say that the narration was pretty awful - booming British voices and overdramatic horns and drums literally rattling the stones of the viewing plateau it was so loud. However, I do have to admit that it was very very impressive to see the pyramids lit up so spectacularly.
*
On the way back I argued with Ahmad about taking us to the Parisienne nightclub that we had passed on the way to the Pyramids. A fairly well-known dancer by the name of Lucy works out of the Parisienne and I am bound and determined to get as much exposure to Middle Eastern dance as possible. We talked about it before the Pyramids, we talked about it in the car after the Pyramids, and we ended up debating it again when he dropped us off at the hotel for a quick rest. Ultimately he convinced me that that nightclub is NOT a tourist joint, that it will be filled with unpleasant drunk men, and unless we are with an Egyptian, the staff cannot be trusted not to price-gouge, thus leaving us penniless or in jail. I relunctantly relented, but am still working on finding shows to see. Juliana and Kirk were NOT impressed with the dancing on the Riverboat cruise they went on.
*
At about 9:00, we got back in the car with one of Ahmad's drivers, Hisham, who took us to the dusty and seedy looking top of a local promontory so that we could take photos of the city spread out before us. The photo opp was a flop, largely because the haze of 17 million people and their attendant car exhaust, refuse burning, and other byproducts resulted in a gray haze partially obscuring the city. It had its moments though...we got to see young lovers sitting together in the dirt at the edge of the cliff and "talking", and Hisham bought us some very spicy chickpea soup off of a vendor that had set up shop.
*
From there we went down to the Khan-El-Khalili Market before it closed up at 11:00 and we wandered among the stalls that were still open. There is a LOT of bellydance stuff and I am realizing the stress of my mission. I could buy a TON of stuff at a steep discount to my students, but if people don't end up wanting the things, then I am the one out of $$$. This will be a project to work on during the next two weeks. We ended the evening with kababs, hummus, and baba ghanouj at an outdoor cafe with Hisham and then made our way home around 12:30.
*
I have so much more to write about the pulse of Cairo as I have experienced so far, but I will save that for tomorrow. But here I am! In CAIRO!

Barcelona on Foot (10.19.07)

2007-10-21T07:00:00.000-04:00

NOTE: Photos from cell phone camera :(

Being not so interested in getting up at 7:30 am for an 8 hour bus tour around the city, irregardless of the fact that it was already paid for and likely quite good, I decided to skip the tour and see the city the way that I prefer...on foot. I slept until 10:30, had a typical European breakfast of bread, cheese, & tomato in the hotel cafe, and then strapped on my running shoes and headed out the door looking 100% American.

Our hotel was along a former drainage canal, which is now on of the major tourist and shopping esplanades of the city and is known as "La Rambla". The uphill and downhill traffic lanes are separated by a wide cobblestone pedestrian path, and it is crowded with hundreds of locals and tourists alike, as well as body-painted mimes by the dozen, small kiosks selling flowers, beer, and small animals, and then shell game artists and the occasional street musician. I headed downhill towards the port and then turned into one of Spain's largest open-air markets. After Fez, I feel like I have already seen the mother of all markets, but I quickly wandered through to note the differences. Quantities were smaller and varieties were greater. There were dozens of sausages hanging in the meat stalls and stalls filled to the brim with the most wonderful smelling loaves of bread. From there I wandered into the Gothic Quarter, one of the now very-familiar areas of Spanish cities with narrow cobblestone streets and large stone buildings crowding out the sun overhead. I walked past a couple of old churches that looked like they could have been from the 12th or 13th centuries, but they didn't hold my attention as much as several bike racks that read "bicing" and seemed to be on every street corner. I had seen identical red and white bicylcles and I finally figured out that they are rental bikes. For about $5 per month one getts and identification car that ets yu pick up a bicycle at any of the hundreds of bike racks in the city and whn you have reached your destinatoin you just deposit in the nearest "bicing" stand. Did I also mention that the city has the most motorbikes in the country? Over 300,000! And boats!

I next wandered down to the marina and just took in the hundreds of silver masts bobbing in the water. I decided that my final destination was the Barcelona zoo, but I took the long way to get there, stopping in a park to watch iridescent green birds hurl themselves from tree to tree between the ubiquitous pigeons. I strolled by the beach and then took a quick walk through the Hospital de Santa Maria del Mar (they had a bathroom).

When I finally made it to the zoo, I found it well worth the 15 EUR entrance fee. Ignoring the hundreds of screaming schoolchildren on field trips, they had a wonderful collection of animals both from abroad and from the Iberian peninsula. The enclosures were close enough to the pathways that I could have touched many of the animals if I had been so stupid. There were many species that I hadn't seen before, including a fascinating small gibbon with an expandable vocal sac reminescent of bullfrogs'. All the animals were very active because of the weather, and the calls of the aforementioned primates resonated through the entire park.

The evening included Indian food with the parents, a little shopping with Mom, and some good-natured deflecting of the advances of a group of some of the ladies on the trip who were intent on recruiting me as their next daughter-in-law. They were all very concerned about my safety in Cairo, so I told them not to worry! I usually steer a pretty wide path around single and available men (though I am not sure they got the joke).

Tomorrow's taxi to the airport is coming at 4:15 am, so then the rest of the evening was spent packing and getting to bed at a "reasonable" hour.

Barcelona: the arrival (10.18.07)

2007-10-19T05:09:00.000-04:00

Though my body is still in Spain, my mind has crawled into a small dark hole and is waiting for the weather to warm up in Cairo before hopping back out again. We transfered from Bilbao to Barcelona very very early in the morning on Thursday and a combined result of lack of sleep and feeling emotionally fragile because of continued tensions between my father and I, I spent the most of the day somewhat withdrawn and in an iPod cocoon (Slaid Cleaves & bhangra were the music of choice.) In the early afternoon I ended up having a very emotional (on my part) conversation with him, which somewhat patched things up for the moment, but left me completely depleted for the rest of the day. The three of us ate lunch together at a restaurant on La Rambla and I took a short walk with my mother to try and enjoy the shops, the mimes, the teeming masses of people bustling through Barcelona. Exhaustion took hold early, and I returned to my single hotel room for a bath and a nap.
*
The phone woke me up at 7:30 and I realized that I only had 30 minutes to get myself ready for our dinner and flamenco show in the evening. I seriously considered bailing out and heading back to sleep and am so glad I didn't. I have never really appreciated flamenco, either the music or the dancing which just seemed like stomping and posturing around the stage. This show changed all that. There were 4 dancers, 4 amazing classical guitarists, 4 male singers, and 1 female singer. Together they belted out such emotionally charged and amazing music, and the dancers reacted to it very intensely. With their stomping, slapping, and snapping they literally BECAME the music and slowly transformed themselves during each set from serious and focused to smiling and ecstatic. I later learned through some literature that many of the artists had studied at conservatories in Barcelona and Madrid!
*
On Friday I decided not to join the 8-hour bus tour with the group, recognizing that I enjoy cities the best on foot. It will be a challenge today if I actually want to see a significant portion of this city of 4 million people, but I am not going to stress about it. I did learn during the bus trip from the airport yesterday that it is the second most popular world tourist destination after the US, and it is either the 2nd or 3rd port in the world in terms of number of cruise ships that depart from its port. The regional language is Catalon, and all the schools and universities are taught in Catalon, though in university some of the professors may opt to speak in Spanish. My plan on Friday is to head downhill towards the Mediterranean from our hotel, wander around a bit, go to a museum or a zoo, and come back to do some internet. It will be a very relaxed day in BarTHelona :-)

Bilbao Day 2 (10.17.07)

2007-10-17T17:07:00.001-04:00

We had a whirlwind day in Bilbao with a very good tour guide who happened to be a PhD student in contemporary art history at the local university. (It became obvious during our tour of the Guggenheim that she had an extensive knowledge and understanding of art and its context). We started the day with a driving tour of the city, crisscrossing the Bilbao river on at least 5 of its 12 bridges. I had already seen a fair amount of what we drove by in the bus during either my quest to find internet yesterday morning, or my fantastic 35-minute jog through the streets and along the river yesterday night. (To my running friends-I am up to 35 minutes!! Woo HOO!).

Bilbao is actually a pretty amazing place and I would have been happy to stay there another day to explore. One of the major cities in the Basque region of Spain, it started as an industrial city with steel, coal, and shipping. There has been a fair amount of wealth in the region and the regional planners seem to have invested it well with a fantastic infrastructure of public transportation, parks, museums, and open areas. In the latter part of the 20th century, the city planners realized that they needed to transition their economy away from the industrial sector and into the service industry and tourism. They successfully competed to become another European site for a Guggenheim museum and then built an equally impressive National Theater and award winning underground subway system. The Guggenheim has not only changed the skyline of the city with its undulating walls of titanium, but also influenced the art and architecture of the city. It is a really interesting combination of classic buildings from the 17th-19th centuries with very ornate facades and a new minimalist modern sensibility when it comes to decor and street scapes. There is an old part of the city that is reminiscent of the tiny cobbled streets of Toledo but with filled with shop after shop of trendy modern clothiers. We hopped off the bus for a while and wandered through the streets and several churches. The churches and cathedrals were interesting, but I have to admit that I am about done with churches. I honestly don't appreciate the difference between Gothic style and neo-classical style architecture, and I definitely don't feel any sense of majesty or spirituality upon entering these enormous stone behemoths with gilded paintings of the Virgin Mary or the Crucifixion hanging on the walls.

We ended the "morning" portion of the tour in the Guggenheim museum and I wish we had more than an hour and a half to wander through. The permanent exhibits are big, minimalist, and emotion-provoking, and there was a new temporary exhibit entitled "300 years of American Art." They had some amazingly significant pieces of art displayed in 5 separate galleries and I stuck next to our guide to hear her talk about both the technical aspects of the work, as well as its cultural context.

The whole morning I had been FREEZING! I packed for 85-degree Morocco rather than 55-degree Spain, and I was bound and determined to go shopping during our afternoon break, though by the time we finished at the Guggenheim it had dwindled to less than 2 hours. Mom and I made a dash for the Gran Via and ended up in a department store (El Corte Ingles) where I found a stylish belted coat and a pair of Euro-loafers, and Mom got a shirt. I will need a few more things before I get to Athens in November, but we ran out of time and I didn't even get to change into my new clothes because we had to join the tour for the afternoon segment.

In the evening we crossed the river to the South and went to a park overlooking the city for photos, we then visited another church and drove to north to the coast to see the Atlantic Ocean and the ports. On the way, we stopped at the ---------- ------, a very unique bridge....

Knowing that fancy group dinner would be a prolonged ordeal, I hopped off the bus at the last minute when it paused outside our hotel and ended up having a really fun dinner with my mom's friends, Cary Baker and Eloise New. I learned later that the rest of the group had an overpriced and fairly frustrating dining experience at a fancy restaurant around the corner, and didn't get back to the hotel until after 11 pm. I of course was on internet when they arrived back to the hotel, and despite 6 am wake-up call for tomorrow, probably didn't go to bed until close to one.

Bilbao Day 1 (10.16.07)

2007-10-16T08:00:00.000-04:00

Since my blogging seems to be getting out of hand (I spent 5 hours today at various internet portals catching up), I will attempt to keep this entry short of sweet. However, anyone who has read my employee self-evaluation knows that this is an impossibility, so we'll see how I do:

Very early in the morning I caught a shottle to the airport and boarded a plane to Bilbao where I met up with a tour group that my parents are to be with for the next 10 days. The main trip is a small-ship cruise from Barcelona to Lisbon but my parents signed up for a "pre-trip" with a group of acquaintances that started in Bilbao. No sooner than arriving at the VERY chic hotel (Grand Hotel Dominic Bilbao?) and dropped my baggage in the triple that I will be sharing with my parents, I turned around and wandered back out the door in seach of internet. Most of the day was spent on internet, either at a cyber cafe that I found in the Old Town or at the hotel. While the rest of the group ate an overpriced dinner at the hotel's cafe, I had a wonderful wonderful run around town and along the river (it must have been good, since those two words are rarely combined in my limited language).

I am sure I will have more information on Bilbao tomorrow after the tour starts, but the basics are that we are staying in a very nice, very sleek modern minimalist style hotel within spitting distance of Bilbao's masterpiece, the Bilbau Guggenheim Museum. While many of the city's facades are old, traditional, and ornate, featuring elaborate grill work and carved marble, the
interiors all seem to share a post-modern cleanliness from what I can see through the windows.

The streets are old but there are brand-new electric trolleys criss-crossing the city noiselessy on sparkling tracks. The Rio Bilbao runs right behind the Guggenheim. It is lined on one side by traditional 17th and 18th century ornamented churches and governmental buildings, with wide paths at river's edge, bike lanes street side, and the opposing banks are connected by several ultramodern and very cool bridges that electrify the skyline. So far I really like Bilbao, despite the fact that it is a Basque city that experienced a bomb attack by separatist activists last week. I like the parks, I like its youthful feeling, I like the cleanliness and the public pay toilets on the street corners, and at least for today, I am liking myself in Bilbao

Toledo & Madrid - A Low Point (10.15.07)

2007-10-16T07:11:00.000-04:00

Though we intended to get up early this morning and even left the windows and shutters open to the busy Toledo street corner to wake us up, all it seemed to do was to give me a sore throat by the time that we woke up in the morning. We left the hotel at 11:30, put our luggage in the car, and headed down to Zocodover Square for breakfast. Seeing the tourist tram ´at the gate´ and just beginning to board, we make a dash for it and once it started were pleasantly surprised to discover that the 45-minute tour was bilingual. We had managed to cover a lot of the material on the major city landmarks during our various walking tours on our own, but the tour was useful in learning a little bit more about local legends and getting to see the city from across the Tagus River. I also learned that it is not pronounced Tow-lee-do as in the US, but rather Tow-Lay-Do. I will have to write the mayor a note to inform them of their mispronunciation. While I am at it, I will suggest speech therapy for the ever-present Spanish lisp. J
*
I needed to thaw out after the tour (shopping for some fall clothes is definitely on the list for Bilbao) so we headed back to our favorite plaza restaurant for breakfast and some hot chocolate you could stand a spoon up in. We next stopped quickly by the internet to quickly check email, make tonight´s hotel reservation, and for me to work on the blog. This is where my patience with my father took a nosediev. After complaining that we were going to the internet in the first place, he proceeded to stand over me and impatiently criticize all my efforts and possibilities for a hotel. After two days of being hassled and harangued, told that the trip would be better without me, told hat he´d rather be in Georgia playing golf, blamed every time that he didn´t like the menu, service, prices, or location of a restaurant (which of course I had to find, since he grumbles that it isn´t his job to find the restaurant)...I hit a definite low with the whole trip and struggled with it during the ride back to Madrid and for the first few hours in our airport motel.
*
Unfortunately, my self-esteem has hit a low right alongside my patience. I had hoped the trip would provide me a way to conquer some of my continuing issues with self-confidence and self-identity. My reaction to my father have slapped me across the face, reminding me of the unfortunately reality that, ´Wherever you go, there you are.´ My social anxiety has not changed thus far. My ever present doubts about what I should do with my life and whom I should spend it with (if anyone), have similarly not resolved. Furthermore, I have not managed to step outside my boundaries into the truly new experiences that I think may trigger some of the personal changes I crave. I am still communicating in English as a tourist, I am still eating my safe Western food with a civilized knive and fork, and I am largely in bed (in the same room as my parents), by midnight. The only thing different about my life here versus life at home is that it is somewhat more lonely and definitely more expensive.
*
I recovered just enough to tell my mother that I wanted to go into Madrid for dinner, but that I was driving. I had had enough of my father blaming us every time he whizzed by an intersection or took a wrong turn. Plus, he makes me motion sick with his method of braking (slam....accelerate...slam...jerk...slam). I managed to get us into town along the Calle Alcará, and we wandered around a bit around the Gran Viá until settling on dinner at a local Chinese restaurant. It is such a vibrant city! Beautiful old buildings lit up, the streets full of pedestrians and the occasional musician. We ended up inadvertantly along a street with literally dozens of prostitutes of both genders, but rather than feeling unsafe, I just felt sorry for the kids who were leaning against buildings in their tight pants and high heels. We stopped by the Palacio Real for a few photos, and I had us back to the hotel by 11:00 pm with no yelling. I was so grateful, because if Dad had even once complained about what we were doing I would have deposited him on the side of the road and told him to take a taxi back to the hotel.
*
This afternoon I began hoping for Saturday to come sooner, since that is the day that I head to Egypt by myself. Unfortunately, I am wise enough to know that Egypt is just one more place on the map in which I will still be me, but this time I will be completely alone. I am not sure what will happen during the next 5 weeks of the trip, but I can guarantee that as the trip changes from being externally-planned to internally-motivated, the blog entries will also likely change. If you, dear reader, aren´t interested in listening to my rambling arm-chair psychology, you better stick to the photos only from now on!

Love and hugs to all my peeps from Spain.

Dia Dos in Toledo (10.14.07)

2007-10-14T12:06:00.001-04:00

I love travelling outside a tour! Today Mom and Dad and I kicked around Toledo for our second day, and unlike the OAT Moroccan Odyssey that was choc full of learning and discovery, our tour through Toledo seems to be very light on the learning and discovery and heavy on eating and sleeping.

For a second day in a row we didn´t get moving until after noon, although I did manage to strap on my running shoes around 10:15 and head south to run among the Roman ruins along the bank of the Tagus River.

Our biggest decisions each day seem to revolve around where to eat, and breakfast/lunch was at the same cafe in the Zocodover Plaza that we ate at yesterday. During my midnight amble through the streets last night, I stumbled upon a vegetarian restaurant, so I know where we are going for dinner tonight whether Dad likes it or not.

When we couldn´t get a seat on the open air trolley car that totes tourists around Toledo, we decided to follow one of the walking tours in our second guidebook. This tour took us up past the Puerta del Sol, on of the most distinctive gates to the city, back to the Plaza Zocodover which we learned was at one point the entrance to the medina and is still the nerve center of the old city. We headed east past a statue of Cervantes and his Don Quixote and ended up walking along the city wall acros from the Puenta de Alcantara and looking across the river at the Visigoth castle of San Servando. This reminds me that I need to figure out who the Visigoth´s were. I was impressed with Dad who managed most of the walk without too much griping, though as soon as we got within a ten minute walk of the hotel he decided that he had had enough and disappeared.

This left Mom and I alone to try and knock out walking tour Number 2 in our guidebook, but the map in the book was so poorly marked that I had us doing circles in the maze of streets and eventually Mom had to sit down to take a power nap before she could go any further. It wasn´t until we decided to follow a big group of Japanese tourists that we finally found the Sephardic Museum. I was very interested in learning more about the significant history and culture of the Jews in Toledo until their expulsion in 1492. Alas, all the signage was in Spanish,k so what little information I gleaned was from the 1.5 pages devoted to Jewish history in our guidebook.

We did indeed eat at ¨Madre Tierra¨vegetarian restaurant that I had discovered last night. Despite his irritable demeanor prior to eating and clear disappointment that Mom and would be so insensitive as to dictate a vegetarian restaurant to tim, when we got there the food and ambience ended up being fantastic. I will post pictures of dad with a vegetarian menu in his hands later.

Next stop...Madrid!

Con mis parentes in Toledo, España (10.13.07)

2007-10-13T12:56:00.000-04:00

Perhaps it was a bad idea to close both the windows and the interior shutters against the constant street noise and bright light shining into our room from the entrance sign, since we somehow managed to sleep until 11:00 am this morning. I am sure that Dad was tired from his transcontinental flight, and Mom and I were certainly wiped out from the very intense Morocco tour that didn´t end until we got on the plane to depart!

After showers all around, we headed downhill from the Hotel Alfonso VI to eat ´brunch´in the Plaza de Zocodover. Unfortunately we were not able to find any English speaking guide companies with space for the weekend, so I purchased a really crappy guidebook and looked over it while enjoying my first vegetarian paella in Spain.

From there, we started wandering the small narrow streets of historical Toledo. I didn´t know anything about Toledo, nor did Mom when she made our reservations. She had just heard from someone back home that it was charming and we should stay there instead of Madrid.What Toledo is is a very very old city dating from @200 BC when it was settled by the Romans. Its most impressive historical era dated around from 569 AD when the Visigoths made it their capital. The city was conquered by the Moors at some point and then came under Christian rule in 1065 with King Alfonso VI and it was widely known as a center of learning and peace, with three significant cultures (Jewish, Christian, Muslim) living side by side in peace.

The streets are cobbled and very narrow, though that hasn´t appear to stop people and their cars from driving through the city. The city is somewhat reminisent of the crowded Medieval streets of Rabat and Fez, though without the hundreds of colorful food stalls and goods-laden donkeys winding through the streets.After eating the three of us began wandering downhill to the constant griping of Dad who recognized that the further we went downhill, the further we would have to walk back uphill. Oh well...I consider whipping him into shape a public service to the family.

We wandered around for at least two hours until finding the enormous Cathedral in the center of the city which dated back to 1226 AD. It took well over 250 years to build and I admit that it was both impressive and tacky at the same time. After visiting Islamic religious sites where any images are forbidden (too easy to become idols) and all the decoration is in either geometrical designs or Quran calligraphy, I found the thousands of images of bishops, Mary, Christ, angels, and countless others to be a bit over the top. Gilded and gothic, it is apparently one of the biggest Christian churches in the world.

Mom and Dad deserted me after I started wandering around looking for ´gelado italiano´(which I ultimately never found), but it was probably for the best since I have been at the internet cafe for well over two hours now. I guess I will go find them and we will figure out what to do for dinner. I think I walked by the lesbian bar to get to this cyber cafe this afternoon, so perhaps I will get brave and actually try to go out this evening. Hmm. I don´t know if Iam ready for that....you all will be the first to know.

Maa Salaama Morocco, Hola España (10.12.07)

2007-10-13T12:51:00.000-04:00

I hate to say it, but both Mom and I are ready for our time in Morocco to end. Even at the show last night we were dragging, and on this our last morning in Marrakesh neither of us could muster the energy for even a simple walk around the block. Mom wanted to take my temperature since I declined running over to the internet before we were to be met by Aziz to go by the post office and then onto the airport.
*
Everything about the morning seemed to take an inordinate amount of energy, probably a consequence of both the heat and the expectation of rest. Aziz had borrowed the car of the hotels owner and took us down to the post office where we spent about 45 minutes getting my package mailed. Our assistant at the post office was a man licensed by the local authorities who assists people with their packages and in return is paid in tips. He was one of the few overweight men we have seen in Morocco (most of them seem to be in Marrakesh), but that didn´t stop him from hopping on his motorbike to go out to a store to buy plastic wrap and tape to seal up the suitcase containing all my treasures. We actually asked if Mom could ride with him, since she decided last night that she really wanted to ride a motorbike while she was in town, but we could tell from the conversation between Aziz and him that he really didn´t think it would be a good idea.
*
We headed for the airport around 11:30 for our 1:30 flight, and during the drive Aziz explained song titles and pronunciations for a CD that he suggested that I get. He tried to find a copy from a street vendor while we were in the post office, but they were closed. Instead I will take the CD cover that he gave me and look around in Cairo. It was sad to leave Aziz at the airport. He parked and walked us in, and I am still feeling guilty that I could not give him more money as a tip for all the services he performed for us during the three weeks we were there. Unfortunately, I got out just enough money for the package and the tip, and then the package ended up costing more than I had figured. I particularly feel bad for Aziz because I know that he worked very had during this trip and I get the sense that he goes above and beyond what other trip leaders do (case in point...inviting the nomads for dinner in the second Saharan camp). Despite his hard work, I learned from him that one couple only gave him less than $60 between them as his tip. This is despite the fact that everything he did was on our behalf, though he occassionally had a gruff way of interacting. Thus, I felt even more horrible about my tip, though it was more than the recommended amount. I wanted to make up for those people that snubbed him.
*
I was asleep before the plane backed away from the gate and was very annoyed when I woke up to find out that you have to buy every item from the concession cart on Iberia air. Neither of us had any euros, so I ended up getting a mouthful of water for 3 American dollars and spending the rest of the flight being very cranky (and dehydrated).
*
We arrived in the enormous Madrid airport about 6:00 pm and Dad was waiting for us outside of customs. Of course he wasn´t interested in our flights or our health, and I couldn´t help chuckling on the inside that he wandered ahead complaining of all the hardships he had had renting the car and then making his way to our hotel in Toledo and back the day, while we both schlepped our own suitcases. Once we got into Toledo, a very charming medieval city of tiny cobbled roads and no signage in English, things got a little heated with Dad driving. He was cranky and stressed from driving. I was cranky, dehydrated, and a little sick of his brand of humor in which he says things like, ït sure would be a nicer vacation if you weren´t here, Chris,¨ in his version of charming. I was convinced I would be finding a hostel by the second night, but I am writing this on our second day and we are still three to a room at the Alonso VI hotel. The other interesting thing about Dad is that he assumes that everyone speaks English and talks to the desk clerks and the wait staff as if he is back in the States. I guess it works for him, but I desperately wish I had a phrase book on my part, since it would be good practice for me to brush up on my Spanish. It is funny though, that one can tell who the Spanish nationals are in the square without hearing them talk. All you have to do is look at them talking and they spend half the conversation with their tongues pressed up against their front teeth doing the Castillion lisp. :)
*
We settled in and went down for dinner at a restaurant in the Hotel Carlos V. 8:30 turned out to be early for dinner in this area, but it suited us. After dinner I decided to grab the map and go for a post-prandial meander through the streets. I got lost about 8 times and the trek lasted significantly longer than expected, but it was still nice. Now that Dad has joined us though, the trip feels much lonelier for me. I have to share Mom as a travel companion and I am wondering how I am going to do by myself in Egypt and Dubai. Time will tell. The one thing I plan on doing in Dubai is getting rid of some of this backpacking clothing and buying one nice outfit. Compared to all these skinny, Prada-wearing, chain-smoking Europeans I look like a lumberjack in my zip-off pants and sneakers.

On our own in Marrakesh - the OAT tour is over (10.11.07)

2007-10-13T12:47:00.000-04:00

The OAT group had their wake-up calls at 3:30 am, and mom and I definitely did not wake up to tell them goodbye again! Instead, we slept until 8:30, grabbed a piece of poundcake each from the hotel, and headed to the internet cafe to try and get my blog updated. Despite at least an hour a day for 3 days, I am still a week behind. Mom thinks that I am crazy for continuing it, but in the end it is going to be a treasure that we can both show to her grandkids.
*
We met Aziz back at the hotel and the poot thing still had imprint marks from his bedspread on his face. He had gotten one hour of sleep the night before. The 27th day of Ramadan started the evening before, which is the day that Mohammed supposedly received the inspiration for the Quran from Gabrielle. Thus, after the dinner at the hotel last night, Aziz was at a mosque praying until 2 am and then was up again by 4 to bring the OAT folks to the airport. He was amazing during the trip, invisibly keeping multiple balls up in the air and balancing the needs and special request of 15 very divergent personalities. He was probably the first up in the morning and the last to bed every night and managed to stay smiling despite the fact that he was probably hungry and dehydrated from observing Ramadan by about 2:00 pm every day.
*
Today he showed up a local laundry so that we could get some clothes cleaned, and then took us by a local department store so that Mom could get a t-shirt. We parted ways there, and Mom and I headed back to the medina in a taxi to finish our souvenir huntil. On the way, instead of witnessing another traffic accident, we got to see yet another fist fight, this time between workers on a construction crew. I don´t know what it is abou this culture that makes everyone so jumpy. Perhaps it isn´t even as bad as usual because of Ramadan, but we have certainly seen our share of men up in each other´s faces yelling and posturing.
*
Of course our first stop was the carpet dealer in the Medina. Mom had pretty much decided on the carpet/kilim that she liked over the last two days, and now it was a matter of settling price. I was hoping to get a small runner out of the deal from the store…for goodness sake I definitely earned a commission out of it! To fit where Mom wanted to put it, they were going to have to cut the carpet off at both ends, so for a while it looked as if I was indeed going to get a runner out of the deal. I had initially suggested to Mom that she have cushions made of the extra, which she summarily nixed. Well, by the time it came to the handshake and measuring the carpet for its cropping she had changed her mind so I can´t wait to see what she ends up doing with the three cushions that will be coming her way! They are just taking a strip off of the other end, and I have requested that they send that piece along with the carpet as well. I don´t know exactly what I will do with it, but I am sure it won´t go to waste!
*
After settling that deal we decided we deserved some lunch, so we grabbed a quick bite and then headed back into the medina. The original plan was to have the carpet store ship all my treasures back with the carpet, but it quickly became apparent that that wasn´t going to happen. Thus, after wandering through the medina to hunt down Christmas presents for my sister and my new sister-in-law and to get another lantern for me, we set off to try and find suitcases. Of course we decided not to look at the suitcases in the stores right next to the square, thinking that they would be too expensive and less amenable to bartering. We then literally spent an hour getting lost and running across every type of shop EXCEPT for one that carried luggage and ended up back in the square trying to get these guys to barter down. They wouldn´t, of course, so in addition to everything else I am sending home (Beth, its coming to you, BTW) I have a new $35 Japanese suitcase to go with it. By this point we were both absolutely DONE with the medina. We taxied home, spent some time either on the international cell phone or pretending to be structural engineers as we folded, stuffed, and cajoled every bit of Moroccan handicrafts we had into this suitcase.
*
In the evening, Aziz met us to go over our evening´s itinerary. I had asked about seeing some more dance in Morocco and he mentioned a ¨wild´ show at a place called Chez Ali. Aziz arranged for a driver to meet us, pick us up, pay for our tickets, and get us a seat at a tourist bonanza about 30 minutes out of the city. While Mom said it was what she expected, I was a teeny bit disappointed. It turned out to be an enormous complex with a dozen huge eating ´tents´ around a central stadium. While tourists dined on the standard tagines and mint tea, different folkloric groups representing different regions of Morocco came in, did a song a dance, and then wandered back out. The music was really interesting, but the dancers looked about as bored as they could be. Yes they had unique costuming, but were talking to each other, chewing gum, and basically only spending time at the tables with the large groups of Japanese who were up dancing with them and snapping photos wildly.
*
The best part of the evening by far only lasted about ten minutes, and I may have found my next passion. (Nicole Huttar if you ever read this, get ready). The ´wild´ part of the show centered around a horse show. Yes, there was the obligatory camel that was paraded around the grounds. Yes, even the array of 20 horsemen that cantered up and down the field firing off rifle rounds was interesting. But OMG! There were a group of about 6 riders that took turns putting their horses into a full gallop and then doing stunts such as hopping on and off, hooking their foot under the saddle and riding while hanging off of one side, or standing up. I don´t know whether it was the power of the horses or the power of the riders as they swung themselves back into the saddles, but I found the whole thing incredibly sexy and decided that I wanted to learn how to do that when I get home. Mom suggested that I combine it with bellydance and learn how to do tricks while in costume, but I think what I like is the feeling of power from both horse and rider. So I think I am going to have to do drag for my new hobby of horsemanship.
*
A bellydancer finally came out on a bit float in the middle of the field. She didn´t really interpret the music very well, and her moves were very repetitive, but she kept both my Mom and I entertained for her entire 10 minute set. I DO have that on video, so I will be studying that as soon as I get home.
*
We arrived back at the hotel around 11:30, both completely exhausted and ready to move on to a tour with a much more relaxed pace. Until next time, Morocco.

Two "Berber" bargain hunters in Marrakesh (10.10.07)

2007-10-10T18:58:00.002-04:00

Call of prayer at Sunset on the Square:

Around Marrakesh by horse-drawn caleche (10.9.07)

2007-10-10T18:58:00.001-04:00

Outside our hotel after breakfast were waiting four horse-drawn carraiges ready to take us on our morning tour of the major sites of the city. Though the carriage itself will seat 4, much to the chagrin our cranky toothless driver I decided that I wanted to sit up front next to him for a driver´s view of the crazy Moroccan traffic. It was crazy. I was equally impressed at the calm demeanor of the two horses despite the multiple lanes of traffic and the disinterest by any of the drivers to stay within the lines, and I was impressed with the skill of the driver to had to lead them across multiple lanes of traffic and in close quarters with delivery trucks, motor coaches, and bicycles alike. I was appalled by the behavior of the other drivers, and felt some matter of satisfaction when our carriage´s central axel ran up on top of and scratched the roof of a taxi cab that had cut right in front of our horse. Horses and their carriages do not stop on a dime!

First stop was a long park and reflecting pool belonging to the Koutoubia mosque dating from around 1100 AD. To get there, we first had to run the gauntlet of a group of friendly old water sellers in their traditional costumes. First stip was a long park and reflecting pool belonging to the Koutoubia mosque dating from around 1100 AD. To get there, we first had to run the gauntlet of a group of friendly old water sellers in their traditional costumes and distinctive hats. We posed for a group photos with a couple of the gentlemen and the continued to examine the outside of the mosque with a couple busloads of French tourists.
*
After climbing back into the carriages our next stop was the Palais de la Bahia. I must have taken 50 photos from within the dozens upon dozens of elaborately ornamented palace (after I finished loving up on the dozen cats disinterestedly roaming around the entrance. If I didn´t mention it before, Moroccans hold cats very dear to them, often feeding and petting the dozens of strays that seem to inhabit almost every street corner. In contrast, dogs are considered unlucky and are generally only kept if they perform some sort or service to their owner, such as protection or alarm. In particular, dogs are kept out of sight on holy or otherwise celebratory days, though I can ´t remember the source of their superstitions.) As I mentioned, the Palace was amazing. It was built by a Vizier of a former Sultan and his son and at one point kept the Vizier, his 4 wives, his 100 concubines, and a lot of wine in the house. There wasn´t much governing going on during that time...
*
Last time was the Saadian tombs. The Saads were a dynesty that ruled before Moulay Ismail and his group took over Morocco, and almost every trace of them were destroyed by subsequent dynasties. These tomps weren´t discovered until the 1930s when a helicopter flying overhead saw something behind the otherwise nondescript street walls. In true Islamic style, the graves were lined up with their broad sides facing West. The people buried within would have been lain on their right shoulders so that they would face Mecca forever.
*
We finished the tour in the Central Square which was VERY different from what we had seen the night before. All the food stalls were gone, with no trace of them. They were replaced by fresh orange juice vendors, CD salesmen, snake charmers, fortune tellers, and the occasional street dentist (see photo from 10.
?.07). Aziz showed the group the entrance to the Medina, then showed my mother and I the entrance to a carpet dealer that he recommended before he disappeared for his afternoon siesta. Mom and I shopped and haggled up and down the medina, getting the lay of the land, and didn´t stop until well after 3:00 pm with some ideas for carpets, and a Moroccan lantern in hand. We went to a restaurant with a terrace overlooking the square, headed back into the medina for more gifts, and then walked home just as everything was starting to close up.
*
It was the night of the OAT Farewell dinner, and we all got as dressed up as we could muster and were taken to a fancy restaurant called ¨The Red House¨. After drinks in a special receiving room, we were lead to our tables to enjoy the live drummer and oud player and for our last special tagine. I was very interested in watching the drummer play. It was a very low-key, formal restaurant, and he did little more than tap the drum with his fingers to get a sound level appropriate for the atmosphere (Omid take note!). A dancer came out when were first sat down, and though she was leagues above what mom and I had seen in Fez, she was very uncompelling during her first set. During her second set an hour later, though, Aziz encouraged me to get up and dance with her and then she really turned it on. There is nothing like a little competition to get things going. I wasn´t allowed to videotape, since she had a bad experience with YouTube last year when some tourists came in. This was unfortunate for me, because she did a lot of pops with her chest and upper body that I was not used to seeing (and may have thrown my back out! Hee hee). We have some of the drummer on videotape (a present for Omid), but he also wasn´t the best of the trip. I think the percussionist that I most enjoyed was a guy who looked to be about 18 in the restaurant in Rabat. I can say proudly that I wore the dancer out. I don´t think she is used to doing much more than about 10 minutes of ¾ shimmy then disappearing for an hour. This time with me she had to do a full on drum solo AND her schtick with the guys in the group. When I dance publicly I definitely like to focus on the women more. They are the ones who enjoy dancing and will ultimately keep the dance going, but I guess there are plusses to keeping the guys happy too. This particular dancers had a trick where she laid one of the men on the floor and started to dance over him before blindfolding him. Then she got his wife to straddle him while she continued to dance. Presumably the man was confused as to who was dancing over him, but in any case I thought it was a bit strange.
*
It was still a really fun evening and I was very grateful for the opportunity to dance a little.

From Movies & Mountains to Marrakesh (10.8.07)

2007-10-10T18:57:00.002-04:00

It was sad to have to leave our palatial accomodations in Ouarzazate today, and it was made even more so when Aziz started warning as about our Marrakesh accomodations as soon as we got in the bus. Today marks the real winding down of the trip as we leave the remote villages and head to the up-and-coming cosmopolitan city of Marrakesh.

Leaving Ouarzazate we first stopped to take photos of several film studios. It turns out that Ouarzazate in the country´s film center, and many movies (see photo above) have been shot in the region. These include Gladiator, The Last Temptation of Christ, Sahara, and Kingdom of Heaven. We continued a few km past these studios and hopped out at an overlook of a famous kasbah, Ait Benhaddou. At this particular stop we encountered a very sweet old man, nearly toothless and dirty, who had two green water snakes that he posed for photos with in exchange for a few dirham. Aziz said he came upon this man last year while leading a tour and found the man in tears because one of his snakes had died due to some unusually cold weather. I can only imagine how this man must be attached to these skinny green snakes as they are probably the only thing earning him a living and have become like family.

The Ait Benhaddou Kasbah is the largest, best preserved, and certainly the most filmed of the kasbahs in the region. Though it has been the site of several movies and is a historical site, the government has also ¨given¨it to several poor families of the area to live in. Thus, despite the historical significance as being founded in the 11th century on a caravan route between Teloet and Oaurzazate and its registry on the UNESCO World Heritage site, it still has families sprinkled upon and within its dusty structures and there are pens within the Kasbah that hold their goats, sheep, and cattle.

We continued driving west and the landscape began to dramatically change just as the road begain to rise and curve. We were entering the High Atlas Mountains which are the highest range in North Africa. As we rose higher and higher and started seeing cedar and pine trees growing along the mountain face, we also began seeing 7-foot high yellow poles sticking out of the ground on the side of the road. This area gets significant snowfall in the winter and these poles both delineate the outside edge of the road for drivers and indicate the depth of the snow. I understand that they have storms in which the poles all but disappear!

We stopped for an unusually early lunch of soup, a Berber omelette, rice, and yogurt. My original plan upon returning to the bus was either to nap or to write myself into a stupor during the 5 hour journey to Marrakesh. However, the landscape was far to spectacular to do anything but gape out the window of the bus. We climbed and climbed narrow roads with dozens of hairpin turns and looked out over green and grey mountain valleys of rock and reforested trees. On the slopes above were herds of mountain goats precariously picking their way across the vegetation and eating plant matter that was completely invisible to our eyes. In one scenic overlook where the group stopped to take photos I had to step over the ¨guard¨rail on the face of a 70-degree slope in order to ¨pass water.¨It was the only place I could find, and even in this case if the cars below looked up they would have seen an unusual sight.

Marrakesh is a city of only 1.5 million, but compared to Casablanca (a city of 8 million), Marrakesh seems like the bigger city and is definitely the wealthier one. We entered the city around 3:00 on and the first thing you notice (after the wide avenues, the palm trees, and the gardens) are the construction cranes. Everywhere you turn there is some sort of construction going on - either remodeling of existing buildings or new buildings arising on reclaimed land from old structures. Most of the market appears to be of high-end hotels and condos, so it looks like despite their expulsion from Morocco in 1956, the French are returning in force for their retirement. Aziz said that Marrakesh is considered Morocco´s garden city, known for its well-planned and maintained gardens throughout the city, the golden brown buildings, and its wide avenues. Within 10 minutes of entering city limits, I would add two more things to that list: its smog and its satellite dishes. Though Morocco supposedly has emissions inspections, I gather that they either fall under the ¨bribery¨system or trucks and motorcycles are exempt. This is based on the amount of blue acrid smoke we kept sucking into the bus´A/C system during our drive.

The hotel turned out to be more disappointing than we had prepared ourselves for. The room was the size of a postage stamp, the satellite dish didn´t pick up more than two fuzzy arabic channels, and our view was of demolition rubble (used as a local privy) and a construction site that woke us up in the morning. There are squatters living at the site and I am curious to know whether they have paid off the construction workers in order to live there, or whether they are workers themselves who are paid to stay there and protect the work.

After a futile attempt to find internet, Mom and I gave up and passed time until we met the group for dinner at the landmark Djemaa El Fna square. The square, which was absolutely teeming with people, sounds, smells, and colors, has a night face and a day face which are very distinct. The night face that we were introduced to first includes groups of musicians that set up on milk crates with small amplifiers and are surrounded by locals eager to listen to the traditional music or storytellers. There are dozens of horse carriages lined up along the square. While such things are usually novelty tourist rides in most American cities, these carriages are honest-to-goodness taxis in Marrakesh and will take you anywhere in the city that you want to go.

The most prominent feature of the square were the dozens of green metal food stalls, all lit up with rows of white light bulbs and identified only with a number. We learned that they set up every night and are cleared away every day before day break and are traditionally packed with locals. Number 22 ended up being our destination for the night, and upon sitting down they started bringing out dozens of small plates of spinach, beans, calimari, fries, onion spread, soups,and bread. I was stuffed by the third dish and sadly had to pass up the ice cream that the group had after dinner at yet another food stall once the meal was over.

We wandered through the square a little bit, but I have to admit that it was extremely uncomfortable at times. We had heard about pickpockets from Aziz, and right after one member of our group warned me that some kids had been eyeing the knee pocket of my cargo pants, I actually witnesses a guy try to steal the camera out of the hand of another member of the group. I confronted the guy right after it happened, but didn´t know what to do beyond yelling at him a little (though he pretended he didn´t know what I was talking about.) I wish I had thought to grab him by the arm and to start shouting thief. Apparently the square is crawling with both uniformed and undercover police officers who are keen to protect the tourists (aka the walking ATMs of the Moroccan economy). After that we were all ready to get out of there and none too soon. In all, it was an eventful first experience with Marrakesh.

West from the Dades Gorge to Ouarzazate (10.7.07)

2007-10-10T18:57:00.001-04:00

Since we said goodbye to the 4x4 drivers last night, a new bus was waiting for us. The bus departed our hilltop hotel at 8 am sharp and I finally broke down and began a course of Cipro. Imodium had not helped nor had an anti-amoebal, anti-diarrheal, anti-everything horse pill that Aziz had given me, so it was time for the big guns. Mom is going to try and get a prescription from her friend Cary and have Dad bring it over to Spain to make sure I have enough stuff for the rest of my trip.

We headed back to some hills for a drive and walking tour of the Dades Gorge. I was so tired from the 6:30 wake up call and the remnants of my illness that they found me an empty dining room in the tourist restaurant we had stopped in and I promply fell asleep for over 2 hours. During this time they group left in two 8-passenger vans and went up to another gorge. Apparently they returned for a few minutes and then went out again to visit a Berber woman who made them bread "pizzas" over an open fire oven. When Mom came back to wake me up on the characteristic bench/seista seat of the restaurant, she showed me a very colorful embroidered black shawl she had bought for me from the woman. It is so neat! I don't think she had to do much bargaining but I already know that I am going to have to learn a meleya leff dance to use it.

We drove a ways and ended up in Kal'at Mgouna where we ate a lunch of vegetable soup and bread, chicken or vegetarian tagine, and melon at the house of a local imam. During our lecture on Islam while at our second Saharan camp we learned that an imam is just the man who reads the Quran and leads prayers in a mosque. A man can be imam for his family if they don't live within walking distance of a mosque, and the imams in Moroccan mosques do it as a part-time venture and are paid a small stipend by the Ministry of Islam. Religious scholars rather than imams are the ones that deliver the sermons on Fridays, but the imams are the ones that write up the marriage contract. After we finished eating our lunch and had a tead ceremony with the imam's very handsome brother, I suggested Barbie and John, who will celebrate their 40th wedding this Christmas, to be the couple to be dressed in traditional wedding costume and taken through a traditional contract. John promised as his dowry to Barbi 40 camels, 10 cows, and 1 black sheep and once she receives them, the bride can do whatever she wants with them. I signed as a witness (in Arabic) and Margaret from WI signed with a thumbprint. Afterwards Aziz gave us a lecture on courtship and marriage in Islam, and I found it interesting that after signing the marriage contract, having the big party with family and friends can happen up to a year later. Two other points of interet are that gifts are received from family and friends and a record is kept so that when you go to thei weddings in the future you check your list and give them the same exact thing back to them. The other thing he said that was strange to Western ears is that Moroccan men generally do not tell their wives they love them - they don't say such words but will show affection by buying them a trinket or bracelet. Mom & I both looked at each other and smiled --- Dad must have Moroccan blood in him. Since he is mellowing with age, though, perhaps he will become a romantic about the time he becomes an octagenarian.

After saying goodbye, we continued driving east and aziz became a comedian on the bus´s PA system. I think the best one went something like this. A little boy asked his father to explain Moroccon politics to him, and trying to keep things simple his father thought of an analogy to occupy his son. ´Son, think of me as the President, your mother as the administration, and your nanny as the working class. You are the people and your baby brother represents the future. Think on that when you go to be tonight and we will talk about it in the morning.´ The little boy went to bed but woke up in the middle of the night because his baby brother needed his diaper changed and was crying. He stopped by his parents room and his mother was asleep. He then went to the nanny´s room and saw his father in bed with the nanny. He gave up and went back to bed. The next morning when his father asked him whether he thought he understood politics, the little boy replied that he thought he DID understand: The President is screwing the Working Class while the Administration is asleep. The People are being ignored and the Future is in Deep Shit. Hee hee hee

Next we stopped in another village called Skoura and walked about 15 minutes through damaged palm groves to get to the Kasbah Ait Ben Moro. Built in the 10th century by a local Berber tribe, it currently stands in 3 distinct sections: an unrestored section, a section restored by an Italian film company for one of their movies, and a section restored by the Moroccan government. Walking back we notice many stumps of palm trees that looked burnt and charred, though most were also sprouting new growth. A devastating fungus termed Bayoud has been decimating palmerie in the southern part of Morocco and the only way that people have been able to deal with it was by burning down afflicted trees.

We ended the days journey at a lovely hotel in the crossroads city of Ouarzazate. Unlike the last week in which we have seen nothing but amber and orange-hued desert, this hotel was nestled in and among palm trees, pomegranate, orange, and fig trees, and had a lovely pool surrounded by bouganvilla. I wandered around a bit, soaked my feet in one of the fountains, and then fell asleep during dinner until the phone woke me up at 9 pm by Aziz who had offered to take me into to town to find internet.

Those of you who are reading this blog have no idea what a pain in the patookus it is becoming to get regular computer access, so I hope you are enjoying it! Until next time!

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