That’s Gonna Leave a Mark
May 11
9:08 am Siwa Oasis
2:08 am Eastern
Yesterday started as a bad day. After lying in bed since midnight, I was only able to fall asleep at 5 in the morning. My alarm went off at 7:15. I was then looking forward to my shower to give me a little wake up. Now when I say that our shower had no water pressure, I mean that it literally drizzled out. I also had a stomach ache, so I could not even enjoy breakfast.
Not the best start to a very long day in the heat of a desert sun.
We visited a few sites in the morning; the Mountain of the Dead and the Temple of the Oracle and the Old City. We also stopped at a spring nicknamed Cleopatra’s spring. I learned my watch was waterproof. It was basically a large circular pool fed by an underwater spring. The water was deep and cool.
We had a few hours during the day to relax and eat lunch. I had my best lunch of the trip at Abduh’s Restaurant. It was couscous, chicken and mixed vegetables (carrots, peas, potatoes and zucchini) all cooked in a small earthenware container right in the stove. It was super hot but also so delicious.
Then began the best part of our trip and the part I have been looking forward to all along; a desert trek, swimming, sandboarding and tea as the sun sets.
We walk out of our hotel and take a left. We head through a rusty gate with the words PARADISE written on a sign. There we find seven Toyota 4x4s, most looking like they are from the 80s. I grab a front seat with Yuseef. Ray starts asking him if he drives crazy and goes fast. He says no. Another driver walks up, points and says “He’s crazy.” We could not wait to see.
This is one part of the trip that is defintely worth doing again. Yussef seemed to repeat the same pattern over and over again. We would hang back and then he would gun it and take off passing all but the lead car.
Youssef.
He would pause at the top of hills, teasing us (and letting us take pictures). At one point a car was stuck going over a hill. The driver jumped in front of it and started digging. Then Yussef parked us on the hill and went out to help. We all thought we were going to die. Ray was yelling to me from the back (since I was in the front passenger seat) and asking me if I could jump into the driver seat and steer. I also had to remember to turn the car on because it did not have power steering. Then to make matters worse a few cars looped back up to the top of the hill to help. One was pulling over and down the hill right behind us. We had no idea if he could see us.
We Thought We Were Going to Die.
Our first stop was an oasis. It was a cool water spring in the dessert that had created a sizable pond with reeds growing around the edges and tiny fish darting in the water.
Stop two was a hot water spring. Why you would want to go in a hot spring in the middle of the desert is beyond me.
Stop three was to collect fossilized sea shells and the like. It is really hard to imagine that where we stood was once ocean and not always a barren dry land. The shelves of fossils contained shells, coral, sand dollars and, if you look hard enough, the fossils of fish.
Our final stop was a high dune to go sandboarding down. Sandboarding, if you didn’t guess already, is essential snowboarding but on sand. Easy, right? My first run didn’t go to bad. The issue with sandboarding was, one, none of the boards had real bindings so your feet would slip out or were never really attached and, two, the sand was like snowboarding in deep powder. Boarding in deep powder takes a lot of strength and once you stop and your board is covered it is nearly impossible to get going again.
Me Sandboarding.
My second run was one that would make my mother cringe. The board I was using had to straps that just went over your shoes. I was able to get my back foot in all the way, but my front one couldn’t fit and so my heel hung over the back edge just a little. I was going down and pretty comfortable when I could feel myself starting to catch an edge. My natural instinct was to lean back.
Bad idea.
All I can guess is that my bit of heel hanging over the back edge was what sent me tumbling. I had two hard contact points; my lower left back, which will have a nice bruise, and one of my vertebrate. I didn’t get up for a second and then when I did, I ended up on my hands and knees in a bit of pain. People kept yelling and asking if I was okay. I never really responded, just got up, looked at the dune I had to climb and grimaced.
It was still fun anyways.
We had tea and watched the sunset. It was amazing to watch it disappear so quickly as it sank lower to the hozizon. We had a clear view, unobstructed by trees or clouds. We headed back to teh hotel to swim and sleep after a long day in the sun.
On the Road Again
May 9
1:53 pm Somewhere Between Marsa Matrouh and Siwa Oasis
6:53 am Eastern
It is a weird feeling to look out and see nothing. The land is flat and barren. The sand is dotted with bits of scraggly plants and rocks. The land reflects the sun and is dark where a cloud hovers over. It is hard to imagine what people thought before they had roads and cars and someone to tell them that there was water in that direction. I wonder how many people died because they became lost or disoriented. The desert, like the ocean, is not something to be fooled with.
Last night we stayed in Marsa Mathrouh. Our hotel was right on the water and it was absolutely beautiful. The sand was soft and white and the water crystal clear and the blues of the precious gemstones; sapphire and aquamarine.
I was able to hang out with part of our new group last night. It was bittersweet. They are all friendly and fun loving but it felt like something was missing and I realized it was the memories. They had all of their nicknames and inside jokes with each other that I could not relate to and there were moments when I almost laughed out loud by something said, only to remember it was not a joke in this group.
At one point one of the guys said “That’s what she said.” All I could think about was our trip to Alexandria when Jon or James determined that “Thus she spoketh” was the new phrase to spread around. I could not have shared this without a story; a story containing people they do not know and have not learned to appreciate their humor.
3:45 pm Still Somewhere Between Marsa Matrouh and Siwa Oasis
8:45 am Eastern
The landscape is even more barren. The brush is becoming smaller. There is no shade.
As I sit here with my headphones on, staring out the window, I feel isolated. I hear the faint Arabic of the in bus movie. I look around and can see the people I share the bus with. I feel the cool breeze of the air conditioning. And yet, looking out into the desert you get the feeling of being alone.
Nothing.
One Tin Soldier Rides Away
May 8
May 8
1:48 pm Somewhere Between Cairo and Marsa Matrouh
6:48 am Eastern
I have always had an interest in war. I can’t tell you the name of ever battle or the generals who fought them. I can’t give you a step by step account of how the Germans took France or the Battle of the Bulge played out. I can tell you the basics; who fought who, where and when (and even, most times why). My interest lies with the individual soldiers, the men (and women) that make up the main players of the story but never receive the credit.
We visited the El Alamein Museum about an hour ago and then visited both the Allied war memorial and the German one. Here is a little about the importance of the battle. It was the turning point for the Allies in both the Middle East and Africa. The battle was fought over the Suez Canal and the control of the Mediterranean.
The greatest battle, the battle of El Alamein, was fought on October 23 to November 4 1942. This great offensive helped to turn the tide and allowed for the full expulsion of the German army in 1943.
Inside the museum was interesting to an extent. They had a lot of guns from the war that were well preserved. They also had all the different outfits you would find a soldier wearing during the three years of battle (1940-1942).
The battle was nicknamed the ‘Krieg Ohne Hass’ or a War Without Hate. A sign in the museum read, “The Desert War was fought in an area almost totally devoid of centres of population. It was a sterile battlefield in which the professional skills of the soldier could be applied, tactically, for pure military purposes, without the distraction of civilians who might become embroiled in the battle. As far as is possible in war, the Desert Campaign was fought in an atmosphere of chivalry, without hate, as soldier to soldier. The common struggle against the desert created a bond of camaraderie between enemies, and there was a concern on the battlefield to see the opposing troops did not suffer through lack of water or through the absence of medical aid.”
Outside were tanks, rocket launchers, armored vehicles and one 1939 British Spitfire. I called it kid heaven because we were allowed to climb all over and inside of them. I was like a twelve year old boy who has the replicas at home and then finally gets to see them in real life.
Me on a Tank.
Next we went to the Allied cemetary. It reminded me of Arlington with row upon row of grave markers. There were mostly British and New Zealand causualties buried there. Most had a cross. There were also a large number of unknown soldiers.
Gravestone.
Unknown Soldier.
No one in my family has ever shouldered a gun and gone off to defend the country. My grandfather was a 12 year old boy when the Nazis invaded Italy. No one was drafted during Vietnam War and neither of my sisters decided a military career was their future. What I am saying is that I have no pull from my heritage to join the military, my parents never told me to enlist and I didn’t need to join in order to finance my way through college. I’m also not overly patriotic and did not agree with much of our foreign policy over the past eight years.
And yet I considered the military; first the army and then the airforrce. I thought about applying to places like Annapolis and the Airforce Academy out in Colorado. I never did.
Now one of my best friends is in the Marines and just returned from Iraq. I could have sat and talked with him for hours and hours about every moment of training and field work. I could have relived it with him step by step because to me it is the story of the soldier that is most important and most telling. The story about a man who fights to defend his country, even when the reason they are fighting was decided by a man who has never met him and knows nothing of his life, his beliefs or his convictions.
Now I Remember Why I Loved Syria (and Still Love Egypt)
June 6
10:01 am Cairo
3:01 am Eastern
Nine of us traveled from Doha to Cairo yesterday. ”The Extenders” (we fight crime on occasion), Lily (who will be staying in Egypt for an internship) and Dr. Denis. It was really weird traveling in such a small group after almost five weeks of moving around in a group of 27. It was refreshing but also uneasy. I kept feeling like we were missing something.
When we touched down in Cairo, our other half was not home to Boston yet, but they were on their way. We made it back to the Flamenco (home sweet hotel) and we had nothing to do. No plans to go to a tourist attraction, no one to meet up with, no blog to write and not even an idea of when to get to bed by since we have nothing to do today. It was wonderful.
After going and going without any real breaks for the past few weeks, it starts to take a toll. And if the travel and meetings and heat are not enough to get you down, the logistics of traveling in a large group and always seeming to have to wait for someone gets on your nerves (or if you’re like me you just hate not running on schedule).
Now as I sit in my hotel room with Honor (yes we are still together:) ) I am already missing our 16 other friends. Even if we were all getting to the point of ultimate showdowns and cat fights, it will be weird to join up with a new group. I think the best example I can give is Jon’s constant fidgeting. I could have killed him and his soccer ball every time I sat next to him on the bus, but I will miss being called CP3O (even if I have never seen Star Wars).
Last night Honor, Jared and I went out on a mission for kusheri. It is essential carbs, carbs and more carbs with sauce. More specifically it is noodles, lentils, chickpeas and a tomato sauce with all kinds of spices. As we started walking I found myself saying, “I didn’t realize how clean the streets in Syria and Doha were until now.” Then I said, “I didn’t realize how little it smelled in Syria and Doha until now.”
I’d like to say this continued on our entire journey, but instead I realized that this is why Cairo was so endearing and you can feel comfortable. So don’t get me wrong I love Cairo, but I said it before and I’ll say it again, I miss trees and grass and the slow pace of my hometown. Damascus was slower and quieter and when we stayed near the Krak for one night, it was peaceful.
Time to De-Sanitize American Media
June 2
8:23 pm Doha
1:23 pm Eastern
I know most Americans get their news from Matt Lauer in the morning or Fox News when they want a good dose of biased and opinionated coverage. Every now and then they flip to CNN to feel as if they have learned something, but they are missing something. They need to get away from American news. I’m not saying to stop watching it or that it is even bad (well maybe Fox) but it is so different and “sanitized” then most international new coverage.
My first experience with “de-sanitized” news was when I travelled to Europe during high school. We received a European paper that was in English. One day when I stepped out to pick it up I remember being shocked by the cover. On the cover was a picture of a dead body, badly maimed. It was the summer of 2005 and I was 15.
Since that time I have questioned why our papers in the US do not show the same images or video. As I have studied journalism I have come to realize that the average American has been treated gently since the Vietnam War. Yes, this is partly because there is more censorship by the government and the military about what can and cannot be shown from battle grounds by embedded reporters, but also news outlets have realized that people do not want the hard truth, they want whatever is easiest to digest. They would rather a picture of a bombed out building than the picture of the family that was killed when the bombing occurred.
I understand. People do not like violence and do not want to look at it or talk about it. I have two problems with the sanitizing of media though. One, people stop to care. People forget that we are fighting two wars and that everyday Americans, Afghanis and Iraqis are dying. They do not hear the estimates that over one million Iraqis have been killed since the start of the war. My second problem is that I do not want my news sanitized. I want to know and see what is truly happening. How can I be effective in pushing for change if I do not know that there is something that needs to change or am not shocked by what I see?
My number one news source is BBC Online along with CNN (online and television). I search Google news about the latest news events and read stories from different sources. To be well informed you have to work at it. We are lucky that we have computers and uncensored internet access. We have the world’s information at our finger tips, we just have to read.
This all leads to Al Jahzeera English. We visited the headquarters here in Doha. Here’s a little background. In 1996 the Emir of Qatar, Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa, decided to fund a television station that would be completely independent and have complete uncensored freedom to do what they like. Years later, this is still the case.
Being fully funded by a government but having the freedom to say and telecast anything newsworthy is every journalist and every broadcasters dream. It allows the journalists to truly do their work without self censorship for fear of government backlash or without the sensationalism so present in American media in order to make more money.
Al Jahzeera English (which is all I can speak to as an English speaker) began in 2006 with many of those in charge coming from BBC. The day it launched they had 80 million viewers worldwide. The problem is that only a handful of cities in the US (one being Burlington, VT) have Al Jahzeera English. On the bright side it will be added in Washington DC and 20 other cities starting in July of this year.
To watch it now you can head to livestation.com and stream video. I have no idea what it’s like, but give it a try. Also, to help further the Al Jahzeera English presences in the US, you can go to IWantAJE.net and type in your zip code to alert the local cable provider (I sound like a commercial).
Richard Lewis, the main program editor, said to us that the goal is to take the tape off the mouth, blinders off the eyes and cotton out of the ears of every viewer. While even he admits that the English version is a bit more sanitized than the Arabic, he stands by their slogan, “Every Angle, Every Side.”
In an area of the world where people think that the US is controlled by Israel and US media is simply a tool to create sympathy for the Israelis, Al Jahzeera prides itself on being the enemy of both Western powers and Arab leaders. Yes, Bush called them the mouthpiece of terrorists because they played Osama Bin Laden’s tapes, but any American station would have too given the chance, though for different reasons. American news needs to be de-sanitized and Americans need to be more informed and more aware with what is happening in our world.
Class Dismissed
June 3
4:05 pm Doha
9:05 pm Eastern
It seems as I sit here writing, everyone else is asleep. I would be wrong to say it is the heat that exhausts us all (since we moved from one air-conditioned building to another) but rather, I believe it is a built up exhaustion from constantly going.
We left a month ago, on May 2nd, and we have hardly had a morning to sleep in or a night off (because who would rather stay in their hotel room than go and see more of Cairo, Damascus or Doha). It is not that we have all of a sudden become lazy or disinterested in the world around us; it is that our bodies can simply take no more. I feel as though I should have done marathon training prior to the trip to be ready for it.
If we had remained in one spot for the entirety we might be more active now, having rested on the way. In fact, most people I have talked to are looking forward to going home. While I do admit that having a long rest in my own bed and quite a bit of my mother’s food is not something I am against, I am quite happy to be going back to Cairo. My journey is not done.
It will be weird to go back to Cairo with only eight of us and have to merge ourselves in with the other group. We have met them before and they are nice, no doubt, but the 25 of us in our dialogue have become very close. We have shared our sicknesses down to every last detail, shared birthdays, snapped at each other and laughed at each other’s finest moments.
I have learned invaluable things on this trip, not only about the countries I visited, the way people act and react in certain situations, but also about myself – my career path and my future plans. I feel as though I have endless options before me once again. I also am very aware of the classes I have remaining and how I can use them to my advantage. I have reaffirmed my love for photography and cannot wait to get back (earn some money on co-op) and buy a great camera (with Nick’s help).
And as much as I hate American politics and how in bed every politician seems to be with big business, I cannot help but think about the endless amounts of change that can and will be enacted just by the vote of people.
I have a lot to think about and digest over the next few weeks and may not really be able to do any of it until I am back in the states (June 18th). Until then I will keep blogging about my experiences and keep working to understand the politics and people of the Middle East.
Skyscrapers, Construction and Clam Shell Fountains
June 1
11:03 pm Doha
4:03 pm Eastern
Even in the dark of night it is still easy to get an idea of what Doha is like. Looking down from the plane as we landed you could see the roads, marked by the perfectly measured out street lights, not one seeming to dim or be out. They winded and curved towards a center. On the ground, the orderliness seemed to disappear.
First of all, the streets here are absolutely confusing. Every five feet there seems to be a roundabout. Now don’t get me wrong, I love rotaries. It is my favorite part of the drive from Connecticut up to Cape Cod. When you have to go around one every time you take a turn, it starts to get on your nerves.
I suppose instead of having four way stops it is a bit more helpful with traffic and from above it probably makes a great visual, but for me, keep it simple and put in a few traffic lights. Even the trip from the mall, or city center, it takes an extra few minutes because you have to go towards the hotel, pass it, go around a rotary, come back on the other side of the road and go through a back entrance of the hotel.
Every building in the city (that does not seem residential) is 20 plus stories high. As it is I am sitting in my hotel room on the 23rd floor of the Movenpick with a pool on the top floor (the 26th).
The buildings are beautiful. Honestly. They all seem to have a unique design (or design element), but there are so many. They all compete and take away from each other. Every hotel and business was going for the best and the most beautiful. And, to be honest yet again, it all seems a bit much. Too much grandeur.
It all goes back to this war of grandeur between Doha, Abu Dhabi and Dubai. Everyone has oil money and everyone is willing to spend it.
Everyone wants to claim the biggest and best of everything. “My manmade island is better than yours.” (Okay, that’s not a quote but I think it helps illustrate the point). All this push for the wonderful has left the city looking off. Between every existing building lies the base of one being built. By the time they are done, the buildings will block out the sun (though then it might not be so hot). From my hotel window I can count 15 cranes of varying height and size, and while it looks as if none are in use, I’m sure they have all been started up at one point or another today.
I’m getting away from the point I want to make. For all the hype and stories of the beauty and glamour of the city, I am a bit disappointed. The construction seems to take away the wow factor and leave it looking like any other developing area. I realize it is a work in progress, but I thought it was all farther along by now. Maybe it will look different tomorrow or as we move about.
Everything just seems to be complete and perfect looking or a mess of concrete. Driving to the hotel we passed one fountain after another. They are beautiful and look amazing lit up at night (my favorite being a giant clam shell), however when you look to the other side you see half finished monsters that are attempting to make their mark on the skyline.
Maybe it is because I am short that I prefer small buildings. Maybe it is because I come from a small town and we do not have big buildings. Maybe it is because I prefer nature to metal and fields to skyscrapers. Maybe I just don’t like the heat.
A Darker Side
May 31
8:08 pm Damascus
1:08 pm Eastern
It is amazing to be in a city where a cab fare from the market to the outskirts of town is two dollars and the driver tries to teach you a few words of Arabic on the way.
A city where Americans are welcomed as a rarity and not judged by their government and its past success/failures (depending on your view point).
I know many of my fellow travellers loved the hype and buzz of Cairo. They loved the hustle and bustle and the overly aggressive shop keepers.
I prefer Damascus. It is slower and smaller (approx 4 million). The people only honk their horns when they want to avoid a collision and shop owners are not allowed (by law) to harass you in the street.
The countryside reminds me of southern Italy (there are even olive trees everywhere) and the history is both astounding (for its biblical roots) and breathtaking (castles and mosques).
There is also a darker side to the Syrian history, one that we were never told about by the minsters or NUSS students, one that has caused Obama to keep the SAA in law (Syrian Accountability Act). A very dark and hushed show of government power came in 1982. Members of the Muslim Brotherhood were residing in the city of Hama (the city of water wheels). From this center they were carrying out attacks across Syria on government officials and the like. Without disgression and without regard for civilian loss, the government bombed the entire city. Next ground troops went in and took out the survivors.
30,000 Syrian citizens died.
Many Syrians only ever heard a whisper about what had occured. This is the Syrian government many people think about. A police state where people still disappear in the night and no one speaks out against the government.
This is not the Syrian people.
They are kind and giving. I have had more tea in the past ten days then I have had in the past few years. I have been called friend and family simply for sitting with someone for ten minutes.
It is hard to describe the hospitality offered to complete strangers. It is akin to that you would give an old friend that has been out of town for a while. It is both comforting and appreciated as a worn traveller.
I Shop More Here Than at Home
May 30
We came to Aleppo this morning. Someone suggested we watch Mamma Mia! on the trip. I wore on headphones and feel asleep. I won’t lie, I did wake up for the ending. It was just as cheesy as the first time I saw it.
When we arrived in Aleppo, we went to another castle. The castle was the citadel of the city and was high on a half natural and half man-made hill. It too was large but not as well preserved with much of the ceiling missing. The steps up to the castle were not originally part of it, but added later. Originally there were two drawbridges. I cannot help myself, I think this is so cool.
Citadel.
Tonight Honor, Steph, Andrea and I went to the souq (market) of the city. Aleppo is the place to buy both olive soap and Armenian silver. I bought both.
As we walked through the labyrinth of streets, we were not getting very far until a man walked up to us and said, “You are tourists?” Seeing as almost every woman in Aleppo wears a head scarf, I almost wanted to laugh.
He told us he had a shop where he sold Armenian jewelry. It was almost comical how easy our shopping trip became after that. In his shop we all tried different earrings, bracelets and necklaces. Honor bought a pair of silver earrings that remind me of shells. Andrea thought all the earrings were a little too big for her taste and so he made her the pair she designed.
Mahmoud.
We also were given flower tea.
I bought a beautiful (if I do say so myself) necklace made of garnet and silver. I also bought a silk scarf. I like the way it feels almost more than the way it looks.
When we were finished Andrea mentioned she wanted to buy a dagger. Mahmoud (our now guide) took us to his uncle’s shop through the alleyways. The shop contained some jewelry, but mostly the shop held antiques. My favorite was a Ottoman era dagger hidden in a drawer.
The blade was inscribed with the ruler and year on one side and on the other an inscription about God. The handle and sheath were carved and inlaid with gold. He also had an American revolver, wild west style. I was tempted to buy one or the other but both would have put me in the poor house for the next twenty years.
Then Mahmoud took us practically next store to buy soap. He told us that it was a good price for two reasons: 1 – we were more in the Arabic district and further from the tourist area, 2 – the prices were written on signs, so there was no haggling.
Finally, he led us out of the maze and back to the main square. On the way he was stopped by the tourism police. He told us later the reason why.
In all of Syria, it is illegal for shop owners to talk or walk with tourists in the street or far from their shops. The reason being that tourists are there to enjoy themselves and shop, not to be harassed. After being in Egypt, I truly appreciate it.
The reason he did not get in trouble was that he explained we were already customer she was leading us out of the market and he knew the cop.
Our hotel here is absolutely gorgeous. The first building used to be a house. It has a wonderful courtyard. Honor and I’s room is in another building down an alleyway. The courtyard outside our room is breathtaking. There are stone mosaics and wooden chairs inlaid with what looks to be ivory.
Our room is straight out of the middle ages. It is all stone and has an arched ceiling. Our one window to the outside is an arrow slit for an archer. Our beds are covered in burgandy fabric and the furniture, like the courtyard, are carved and inlaid. I wish we could stay here all trip.
Our Castle.
Krak
May 29
Our first stop on our Syrian road trip was the small town of Maalula. Maalula is one of the last remaining towns in the world that speaks Aramaic, or the supposed language of Jesus.
We visited the Couvent Sts. Serge of Baccuus. The original site hosted an ancient Roman temple to the sun god, Apollo. The temple was built in roughly 300 BC. 600 years later, the temple became a church and now claims to be the oldest still standing church in the world.
The priest there spoke the Our Father to us in Aramaic. I truly wish that I had a recorder to capture the words because they were beautiful.
We then walked through a crevice filled with caves inhabited thousands of years ago. This led us to the Shrine of Saint Takla. Saint Takla is one of the 70 other disciples talked about in the Bible and followed St. Paul.
Her shrine was quite beautiful. It was partially carved into the mountain and had a tree that grew from one side of the room, up near the ceiling and out the window on the other side. There were many painted icons of the disciples, Jesus, St. Paul and Mary.
We hoped back on the bus and headed further north. It is essential to note the amazing and beautiful landscape. There are fields and greenery unlike the land of Egypt. It reminds me of southern Italy (they do share a similar climate).
Our final stop for the day was Le Krak des Chevaliers. Osama (our tour guide) told us it was the largest castle still preserved almost entirely. The outer wall and inner building were all well intact and we were able to walk anywhere we wanted. Between the archery holes and the fortified sanctuaries, the castle allowed me to picture life as it was. Many battles were fought for the castle and many died in its conquer. I can see how it was not only beautiful, but practical and essential to power.
Le Krak.
Inside Arches.
Sitting on the Edge - Enjoying the View.
That night we stayed at a beautiful hotel with a great view of the Krak on the mountain. I kept joking that I would love to have lived during the times of castles and knights.
Granted I don’t wanted thousands of people dieing in pointless wars, but the grandeur and beauty of the time are little seen today.
leave a comment