An uncanny magnetism.

That's what I have--at least, that's what I have for touring the world's hospitals and future doctors.

Here I attempt a tangentially related travel post. Anyway, perhaps it's one of those big jokes on me, or perhaps I've missed my true calling (what a pity *said with purposefully understated sarcasm*). Consider the facts: I personally have a big problem with doctors (long story), my parents would like me to become a doctor, I took an aptitude test after finishing up my four years of university and found out I should be a doctor (who believes those things anyway?)...and then, the majority of my friends or people I hang out with (we must always keep these differences in mind!) are interested in medicine, pre-med and/or currently on their way to becoming doctors.

And thus, everytime I travel to visit friends, be it in Ireland or Israel, or more domestically, in Michigan or California...I end up spending hours upon days in hospitals--eating foods in their cafeterias, walking about the grassy areas that they use to cheer up patients and workaholic staffers alike...I also often end up in large gatherings of a frightful species--the medical student.

Maybe it's just G-d's way of mocking my diminishing capacity to remember the specific differences between meiosis and mitosis, let alone the more complicated intricacies that are best described in latin jargon...

In any case, I just thought I'd ramble off on that tangent before inserting a tiny update on how things stand here thus far...I had a great tour around Be'er Sheva today, my health is doing a lot better (I should be in top fasting form--if all goes well), and tomorrow I head off to Jerusalem after (hopefully) touring the Ethiopian Jews' crafts center here...

Ah yes, the Ethiopian Jews. When I was in France I saw this film "Va, Vis, et Deviens" I believe it was called, about the Israeli government's effort to bring the Ethiopian Jews back to Israel as well as their rocky assimilation into Israeli society. Frankly it is amazing to see such a diversity of Jews here in Israel--it's something that I believe most American Jews are not at all exposed to. Here there are Asian, Indian, Ethiopian, Moroccan (lots of North African), Algerian, Tunisian, Russian, Spanish, etc, etc...Black, White, Brown, Orange, Red, Yellow, every skin color--all Jews. It is normal to see a whole group of children of all different ethnicities walking down the streets together, little kids holding hands and talking Hebrew. Here I feel like there is so much greater acceptance of diversity and variety within Judaism. And I really appreciate it.

An island in the Middle East...

(A new year, a new post...)

It's very strange being in Israel, so close to Egypt and other similar countries, yet seemingly so far. The differences are quite stark and seem to affect every level of life--cleanliness, poverty, clothing, mannerisms, etc...I could go on forever with the minutiae.

Anyway, the other day I was sitting at the bus stop here after visiting a shopping mall. Interestingly, or perhaps sadly, most action and social outings seem to take place in malls here because they are small islands (to continue the theme) of security--people traveling into the mall must pass through security screeners and open up their bags. Thus, as my friend Devora put it, though the mall is the small island of security, ironically, the lines going into the malls are one of the most dangerous spots to be in. Ah well. Okay, so where was I? Yes, I was sitting at a bus stop after having visited the mall (and eating the best schwarma--meat, salads and sauces in this big rolled up piece of delicious bread--of my life!). While sitting at the stop waiting, a group of little girls descended on me and my comrades there. They had plates full of apples and honey and small cards that they handed to each of us.

Two things: How do you know you've been in Israel too long when you're back in the States? When you go to the mall you open up your bag to the random security guard.

Now, how do you know you've been traveling in North African/Middle Eastern countries too long? When you encounter any sort of kindness or freebie, you think you are getting scammed and will have to pay for it--in one way or another.

So I warily take an apple and honey, after watching the girl next to me unhesitatingly do so, and I say thank you. They also give me a small card they've colored with crayon that says "Shana Tova", or "Happy New Year" on it (5767), and then they leave. And I sit there with mixed feelings, and (again!) near tears...I felt badly for thinking the worst of such sweet kids and was blown away by the kindness of the gesture. Kind of like when I arrived in the airport in Tel Aviv and there was a big sign wishing everybody a happy new year and happy holidays (well not really the same, but also novel for me, especially coming from the very Christian States). In Morocco and Egypt, and especially in Egypt, it was always the little kids that would suddenly appear, pop up out of nowhere, tug your sleeves or pants, and ask for "bakhsheesh" or "money"...A common thing Jim and I would often hear while traveling was "Hello, money!"...and Jim swore at one point he should just change his name to "money."

In any case, it was nice to realize I can let my guard down a little. At least sometimes. Sometimes being too wary a traveler can make you miss out on very nice and key experiences. Even so, the consequences of being too wary are far less compromising than being too relaxed.

On Tuesday or Wednesday I shall travel back to Jerusalem and hang out there for a while, and then maybe head over to the beach in Tel Aviv for a bit, then perhaps do some camping up North.

I was also considering and slightly tempted to travel into the West Bank (short day trip) through East Jerusalem. Anyone with information or tips on this--pass it on! I plan to do my research before embarking on any foolhardy excursion.

That's it for now. My net access is somewhat restricted in Be'er Sheva, but shall hopefully become a little more frequent and easy in Jerusalem. Until next time!

Post Athens wrap, hack, Be'er Sheva encore!

*Hacking cough intro*...

I suppose pulling repeated all-nighters (about four) in the last two weeks all contribute to that wearing effect...and getting sick. What a way to start off a new year, huh?

Anyway. I got back from Greece today! From Athens, more specifically. A couple things--Tel Aviv airport is perhaps the best airport in the world to fly out of in the middle of the night. At the normalish hour of midnight, not a soul is alive there--or so it seems--then, at 3 or 4 a.m....suddenly, the airport is swarming with people! (Did I already post this? Perhaps, I'm too lazy to look over at my previous post...so sorry if I'm repeating my wonder and praise here.) Everybody is off at duty free getting in their last minute shoping...and I too fell prey to the pull for cheaply and well-marketed items *shame-filled glance downward.* In all honesty though, I've barely bought a thing after traveling around for more than a month!

In any case, I was in the midsts of my Athens update. I'll be brief and enigmatic here. Let me just say, that I found the mere image of myself a week earlier in Egypt, juxtaposed against the reality of my stay in Greece--quite amusing and ironic. My stay in Athens was everything my stay in Egypt was not. It was a vacation from my vacation--and one I sorely needed. A soft bed, sumptuous meals, complimentary and kind treatment, a fitness center and a pool (!), the comfort of traveling with a family member...

I saw a lot of sites, a lot of museums, but will have to go back to Greece and "do it" properly--head off to the islands, revisit some museums...All in all though, it was an excellent vacation, and now I'm suffering from a small bout of withdrawal and separation anxiety. Oh well, more sleep and meds (yes, I'm forcing myself), should do the trick. Also, this quality Internet time. =)

On another note, getting back into Israel was possibly the easiest it's ever been for me. Maybe five or ten minutes at passport control! I guess it gets easier everytime. All the more reason to revisit Israel...again and again.

Well, tomorrow the new year starts and I'm excited about spending my holidays here in Israel for the first time. I'm lucky to have an awesome host here who is juggling my stay, a move, a broken nose (and surgery!) as well as med-school classes and the holidays...at the same time. I hope to repay her for her kindness and make myself as inobtrusive and helpful as possible during this time. I fear I've already somewhat messed up--I met her at the hospital to use the net and bring her her lunch...and I didn't actually make the sandwhich (it didn't cross my mind!)...just merely threw in the semi-frozen bread, cheese and avocado in a bag and brought that along. I also forgot the fresh avocado on the counter at her place. Ach.

Anyway, tomorrow the holidays start, and I think we're going to be cooking something up. I hope my health holds up...and things aren't too crazy tonight at the market (ha)...

Will update more later! Starving...

Tel Aviv airport...

Here I am, sitting at a bar at the Tel Aviv airport (aka Natbag), Ben Gurion Airport. It's nearly 3 a.m. local time, and I have four hours to my flight.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I'll be traveling to Athens for the next four-ish days. I get back to Israel at 4 a.m. local time on the 21st, Thursday, the day before the start of Rosh Hashana (the Jewish new year). That flight sounds like fun too.

Anyway, my mom will be traveling in Greece for the next couple weeks and aside from getting a chance to see her and spend some time after a number of months...she made me an offer I couldn't refuse, so I got a ticket and, despite the horrible flight times, decided to shove off at the last minute.

Ah yes, anyway, Shabbat in Be'er Sheva was really nice, and it was especially good seeing Diana--it's been a while. The poor girl broke her nose this past week and was sleep-deprived for days when I saw her, as well as moving into a new apartment and dealing with the usual loads of med school work. Anyway, my presence could not have helped, but I tried to limit the burden I presented by providing whatever moral (morale) support and physical strenght I could.

It was so nice being able to chill out and cook a meal together (we made do with limited resources for Friday night because most everything was closed by the time we set out to make something)...then, on Saturday we went over to her friend's house for lunch with some of the other students in her program. It was very lovely.

In the afternoon we hung out at a cafe and I worked on my Spanish while she did studied. Then we got some (great) Indian food before I left for the bus station.

A couple thoughts--1) I love how almost everything here is kosher, or otherwise very easy to get kosher. I mean, for example, at the bus station the other day on the way down to Be'er Sheva from Jerusalem, I was able to get a hot dog at a stand there that was kosher, just like that! No where else in the world...2) For all the worry some people have about coming to Israel...life here is really very normal. You feel safe, you feel regular...I ride buses, I go to shopping centers and malls (incredibly safe), you eat out, go to cafes...life is normal. The security is excellent and very competent. Of course, it's not full-proof. But nothing in life is.

Anyway, the buses out of Be'er Sheva tonight were crammed with people leaving post-Shabbat. Buses don't run during Shabbat--they stop early afternoon Friday, depending on the season earlier or later, and they start again Saturday evening/night. The buses were so busy that I had to push my way onto a bus and then sit on the floor during the entire ride. It was still better than some other bus rides I've experienced (oh damn, I still have to update my reflections on Morocco and Egypt! Sorry, due to the moving situation in Be'er Sheva, there was no continuous Internet access). Almost everyone on the buses was under 30, and it was pretty cool, like some field trip or something, all full of young people/army people.

Here the youngsters in the army are like any other young kids, except they carry guns, which makes them very different. Maybe because they are so close to that edge of life and death, they live life in a more exagerrated, aggressive and extreme (not in a bad/political connotation) way. Partying is crazy, there is a tendency for drug and alcohol abuse (escapsim, so I hear)...but at the same time, I believe friendships and family are possibly tighter and more highly valued than elsewhere--I haven't been here long enough to give my full thoughts on the issue, but this is my conjecture.

Okay, anyway, one interesting observation on the bus. The only really white-haired man I saw on the bus was a late(r) arrival and ended up not having a seat and standing. So this Israeli girl gives up her seat for him, but like a stubborn Israeli, he doesn't take it, so some young guy standing takes her seat, and she sits on the floor. About 20 minutes later, the girl sitting next to the young guy gets out of her seat to try and offer the older man her seat. But he won't take it. (Gah!) And the young guy makes a bland offer as well, but he won't take it still. Another 10 minutes go by, and the girl on the other aisle seat gets up and argues with the man until he takes her seat, and then stands the rest of the trip (about 1.5 hours total trip time).

Now, everyone here was so considerate (well the girls at least) to the older man; however, the first girl who had to sit on the floor was so stretched out and leaning against my bag so much so that my leg fell asleep-ish and got cramped, and the other girl who finally forced the man to sit down was not able to sit because the other girl had her legs all the way out. I found it amusingly ironic that the consideracy (is this a word?--getting tired...) only extended so far, and otherwise the girl was clueless and sort of self-serving. Anyway, this isn't a generalization I make about Israelis based on this sole experience or observation (I mean, she did say thank you at the end, and I'm sure she was probably puzzled by my reaction since I just use a "thumbs up" sign a lot of the time when I don't know a language)...and anyway, this isn't really a generalization...just a thought, but I thought it funny nevertheless.

Well, in any case, despite all of this, and the really hot bus floor that I was sitting on (yuck), I got the Tel Aviv train station around 11:20 p.m., and had an hour to kill before I got on the train to get to the airport--where I am now. It's nearly 3:20 a.m. now, and I think I'll go pick up my ticket at the counter...Olympic Airlines, the main Greek airline could be the subject of another post. I'd specify more about it's ineptitudes, etc...but I'd rather stay optimistic, especially since I need to fly on it quite soon.

Last thing, the airport music is just awesome here! "Creep" by Radiohead, "I Swear" (ah, memories), and now that theme song "Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime" from "Eternal Sunshine"...Can't wait to come back home...

Off to the ticket booth I think...cheerio!

Off to Be'er Sheva...

I'm going to be spending Shabbat in Be'er Sheva with Diana, an old friend from Berkeley who is sharing responsibility for me while I'm in Israel with Devora. (Lucky me!)

Leaving to catch the bus to the station in about 15 minutes...

Just wanted to post quickly on one thing I find really cool about Israel--the weekend is Friday/Saturday, not Saturday/Sunday! I know, I know, it makes sense and all, but I still find it pretty awesome. Kind of like how when I came here a couple years ago during "Christmas time" I didn't see a single Christmas tree (of course, upon arrival in LAX there was a huge one right at the re-entry way...). It's also kind of like how I'm still blown away by the lack of traffic here on Shabbat...

More later, Greece Sunday...adios for now!

Now I totally *get* Moses...

as well as the gravity of the decision to wander in the desert (in Egypt!) for 40 years. Geez, what punishment.

Well, everybody, the decision was made, and in the end, it was a good one--especially since I could barely hear out of my ears while driving past the Dead Sea. Yes, yes, I went to Israel!

Oh thank you G-d!

Seriously, this may seem melodramatic, but crossing the border between the two countries was the best thing that's happened to me in months! Hilariously (in a slightly sad way), as I was crossing these other people were trying to get into Egypt, and were standing at this office bogged down with an Egyptian official who was smoking, chatting on the phone to a friend and arguing with another official nearby...("Welcome to Egypt!" they said...I had to laugh).

So yesterday I took off from Dahab quite early in the morning. I avoided getting ripped off on my taxi drive over to the bus station by shelling out the proper amount of money and arguing/haggling with the driver while grabbing my things--until he was haggled to submission. (Mwahaha).

Then it was onto the bus itself, which was about an hour late (go figure). The attendants started selling tickets earlier than they would (usually they only sell when the bus arrives) because they were afraid their customers would get picked up by taxi drivers instead. Anyway, the bus arrived and we all piled onto it. Once you're getting onto the Tabah bus, it's pretty clear to everyone that you're either an Israeli, Jewish, Christian, or have some plans to pass through Israel. At that point it was kind of like...meh, whatever. The other people going on into Israel was this Austrian dude living in Tel Aviv for the year, a German guy who lives in Dahab but was crossing to go shopping in Eilat, four Japanese travelers making their way to Jerusalem and an American couple (and one of their mother's) from Los Angeles (but living in SF now) finishing up a year-long voyage with about 10 days in Israel. Not bad.

Our bus stalled at least a dozen times on the road while this one Egyptian guy kept hopping off to deliver packages (he's with FedEx apparently), and another guy was waiting for a bakery to finish baking bread, etc, etc...Actually, I got a few perks out of this--free bread and food on the bus from these guys--other passengers weren't so lucky. The bread, by the way, tastes exactly like matzah! Except it's leavened. Another mystery solved!

We were dropped off about 1 km from the border crossing. And off we went with our packs, into the hot sun, down the strip of road lined with palm trees and taxi drivers trying to hound us into our last rip-off. No cigar.

The border itself was a gate with a group of Egyptian officers standing around smoking cigarettes and giving passports a cursory glance before charging everyone 2 Egyptian pounds for a visa stamp and paper to get out of the country. From there it was about 20 meters to the "Departures" building (none of this was very clearly marked, so there involved a lot of stumbling about with my pack and guesswork...). At this building we waited around while the Egyptian officials there finished arguing with each other (do I sense a pattern?--btw, I forgot to mention the same thing happened at the bus station when I first got there to leave Dahab, except that time it last 45 minutes and the police were called). Afterwards, we dumped our bags in the x-ray machine, picked it up and continued on to get our passports stamped (or not, in some cases). I walked forward and didn't see a single person at the station (a repeat of the airport when I'd first arrived). I was told to go to an office, and after much hanging around and impatient glances at my watch (I had a bus to catch to get to Eilat and another from Eilat to Jerusalem at 4:30 p.m. and it was 2:30 p.m. and I had not yet gone through Israeli security!).

Anyway, the man finally stamped my passport and I wandered past a group of guards and out of the "Departures" hall, wondering if I'd forgotten to do something. No one stopped me though, and I continued down a path until I saw a hi-tech building up ahead with an Israeli flag atop it--guards at attention by the gates and well marked signs telling people where to pass through. Heaven already. I was hard put to not cry when I saw the flag and later I teared up a bit when I finally got into Israel.

Now for the next ordeal. Israeli security and actually getting into Israel.

Though, as my friend said, "Israel's a democracy, you have nothing to worry about. Worry more about places like Egypt." And it is indeed true. The truth sometimes works out the best. And so, sure enough, I walked into the place and was taken to the interrogation stand. I was wearing these shorts with a tie thing in front, that kind of bunches up, and after we moved over to the interrogation stand (while everyone else simply got a couple questions and a quick entry)...the lady asks me if I'm wearing anything under my shirt in front of my waist-area...Oh, like a bomb?! I left that at home... Just kidding. I didn't really mind. I felt kind of like a little puppy, eager to please, and I responded to all her questions clearly and comprehensively (sometimes a tad too much, I feel). At the very end she asked me if it was hard traveling with my last name (yes, sometimes), and why I didn't change it: "Why don't you change your last name? You should change it! You're Jewish, and that's a Muslim name."

To be honest, I was a bit offended, but let it pass. I told her "But that's who I am, I'm proud of who I am, to be Jewish, with my last name, to be a mix--American, Iranian, Chinese, Jewish--Hebrew first name, Arabic last name. I like it."

And she let it pass. She smiled, and that was the end of the interrogation. She walked over to the other Israeli security people and told them "Yehudi--"She's a Jew"...and when they questioned her on it, she laid it to rest. "She's Jewish...let her pass." Ah, you don't even know how great that felt. And, in addition, most Israelis like Americans. I love it here.

After that it was only a matter of getting my passport stamped--they can only grant me one month at the border, which means if I want to stay--as planned--until Oct. 16, then I must go to the Internal Affairs office in Jerusalem for those extra three days (B.S. bureaucracy crap, no way will I do that--and it's all moot since I'll be heading to Greece for a couple days before returning, more on that later).

My passport properly stamped, I headed out to catch the bus into Eilat. I spoke with the Dahab guy who told me that diving in Eilat wasn't worth it and a waste of money, but that Israelis probably felt safer doing it there. No kidding. For all the importance of pushing yourself out of your comfort zone, there's something to be said about feeling comfortable when it comes to life/death issues.

As the bus drove through Eilat I was awed by the modernity of everything. The bus itself had AC 100 times better than any building or bus in Egypt. Everything was so clean, big, working, modern, Western...it was like back to civilization. From third world to first world in...like 10 minutes. Now all of the problems between the Arab world and Israel become a lot more clear. On the other side, as in Dahab where we could see Saudi Arabia, here we could see Jordan...and this gigantic flag that looked like it'd been made for the sole purpose of permitting Israelis across the way to see it.

The drive into Eilat reminded me of the one time in Hurghada when I'd gone into a high-class tourist hotel there. I felt like I was entering a different, more relaxing world. I felt so grungy...and just...out of place. It was the same feeling, except in Israel I felt like I belonged--it was like home. Hard to convey that feeling.

In Eilat I bought the bus ticket to Jerusalem and went off to get food and ice cream (they even have a larger selection of ice cream bars!). I asked for the bathroom, "Efo ha sherutim?" and then came back to get onto the bus, which was dead on time. When I got onto the bus a guy let me borrow his cell phone to call up Devora in Jerusalem (who I would be staying with), and get her address info, etc. Halfway through the ride we stopped at a rest stop that reminded me of the rest stops in France...better than average, with a restaurant, coffee shop, gas station, and store. When the bus stopped a man on board turned to me and told that we were stopped for a 15 minute break. Throughout Egypt, not a single person ever bothered to let me know what was going on. When we got back on the bus, the guy--Idan Leviadam--gave me a piece of chocolate and we chatted for a bit. Apparently, he was head of security for some large hotel in the Dead Sea area, and he traveled a lot around Israel giving security talks to people. He was amused by my last name and security ordeals, which I explained to him in good humour before finding out his occupation. Then he got off the bus and we continued onto the last leg of the journey.

It was so refreshing to see people wish Jewish stars, kippot, religious gear, and even the military uniforms I was previously so accustomed to seeing. It was, as always, quite a shock to see young teenagers toting rebelliously saggy military uniforms, and guns. But I'm slowly getting a bit more used to it again. It was just nice to be back.

When I got into Jerusalem I found the taxi stand and halved the figure the taxi driver offered me (I was too tired to find the bus place, wait around and lug my stuff about in search for Devora's place). The taxi driver was so easy to haggle with after my experiences with Morocco and Egypt, and after 20 seconds I got my taxi, chatted with the driver who was really glad I was visiting, and got dropped off 10 ft. away from Devora's place. Clean streets, no smoggy cars, AC, cooler weather (but still nice), better cars, everything works, fast Internet...laundry...my first fresh-water shower in days (not diluted salt water as it was in the Sinai), a real meal (Devora cooked Mexican in preparation!--Oh how I missed it)...and I feel a million times better.

Thank G-d for Israel.

I'll do a follow-up post on my final reflections on Morocco, Egypt and the last-minute plans for Greece. But I think I'll end this post here.

I am glad to be back.

To go or not to go? That is the question.

Okay, so I'm only going to leave this open a short time, since I need to make my decision by tonight (my time).

Do I go onto Israel now? Or stay in Dahab and take my scuba diving course.

This morning I woke up feeling more congested than yesterday, coughing up mucous as well as blowing my nose repeatedly...my head felt light because of my sinuses and my ears were slightly clogged. Now, because I was reading my PADI manual, I know that this can be quite dangerous for diving.

On another note, I think I'm suffering a bit from "Egypt burnout" as Jim so aptly put it (he's leaving for Cairo tonight because of it). A nice quotable quote: "When I get home to Dubai, I'm going to cry!"--Jim. ("And I don't even like Dubai"--he just added).

And finally, I don't feel to comfortable or safe here with everything that's going on in the world. The beach is nice, but it's eerily empty and quiet here...I'll adopt the quote people usually save for France and say that Egypt is a beautiful country except for all the damn Egyptians (please add in here all the necessary PC considerations, because I really have nothing against Egyptians, per se).

Anyway, Jim did mention that most everyone who comes to Egypt leaves quite joyfully...

Okay, now for the other option. I can also stay here and hope that my health gets better, and continue the diving course (I was already suckered into buying the book--and now I have to carry it around). The thing is, diving here is the best in the world--though I do believe it wouldn't be too hard to get back here since I'll likely visit Israel again in the future and it's not that far. I could come back and dive here properly after being certified in the States with the necessary security/health guarantees.

And the final option: I could stay here and not dive, but just relax on the beach. In theory this sounds pretty good too...since I supposedly have been yearning for that for a while. But, I don't know...there's not many people here, and though the beach is beautiful, there is only so much sitting around you can do by yourself...I could easily do the same at any beach back home, or even across the border in Eilat, if I really wanted to...

So there you have it. I think I talked myself out of it. But, then again, perhaps I'm trying to rationalize my decision. I have a bit of a headache. Blech.

Well, I'll take any inside thoughts or advice until tonight. So if you read this, please please give me your thoughts. Even anonymously, or whatever. I'll put in my final decision later, and then that will be that.

Over 'n Out. For now.

Surreal...

I'll doing it like those LJ people.

Mood: Beyond exhaustion tinged with nostalgia and an urge to go back to the simplicity in the States.

I think it's the sleep deprivation talking because in all honesty I've had a wonderful last day or so. Last night I climbed up Mt. Sinai, about 12 km roundtrip--2,285 meters high (the second highest mountain in the Sinai after Mt. Saint Catherine). We started at about 11 p.m. in a car ride that took two hours...before we reached the site. Then, around 1:30 a.m., we started to hike. Not only was I horridly out of shape, but exhausted from the "microbus ride from hell"--they must make these car rides as torturous as possible on purpose because there is no other excuse: no AC, blistering winds (as a result), psychotic driving, the most uncomfortable seats known to man, plus awful music. Agh.

Anyway, when we first got there we were all told we "had" to have a guide, for which we'd have to pay five Egyptian pounds. I was a bit peeved because I knew this was not the case, from my own sources of information. I challenged the guide on the point, and he started yelling at me, and told me to ask the police. So I did.

The policeman was much more diplomatic, and he did acquiese...saying, yes indeed, there is no Egyptian law for a guide (contrary to what we'd been told), but that it was "for our safety, because it is dark, and we could fall off the mountain." Now, let me say, not only did I have a torch with me (flashlight, sorry I've adopted the Brit word for it here, oddly enough), but also, the moon was so bright extra light was unecessary and a hindrance. Plus, the path was very well demarcated and quite large in many places (camel rides up were offered, I'm assuming only part way).

And so, I told the guide I didn't appreciate being lied to, but, with the rest of the group was herded along after him. It was rather annoying because I would have preferred the peace and quiet of a hike, myself and a few friends in the desert, in such a historical spot...the chance to take it all in. But this guide business quite overshadowed it...at least until we lost him (and that took some finesse on our parts...and a willingness to let him yell us into submission before we silently took off later--what a control freak!).

Then...after...the hike was just supremely amazing. No words describe it. It's one of my favorite things I've done here in Egypt, despite the fact that I feel like walking death right now. There are two paths up Mt. Sinai, one that is called the "Steps of Repentance"--it's 3,750 steps up the mountain, or you can take a path up (recommended) and the steps down--which is what we did. The last part of the path up includes 750 of those steps, and they definitely live up to their name. When we finally got to the top it was damn cold...and I ended up splurging for a blanket up there to add to the fleece one I'd pilfered and brought along with me from Royal Air Maroc airlines. I was finally able to doze for about an hour (we were about three hours too early, it'd taken up three hours to walk up)...and then I caught the sunrise at around 6:25 a.m....before starting back down the mountain using those steps.

At the bottom was a Greek-Orthodox monastery that finally opened after about a 45-minute wait (we'd hiked down in about two hours, and were half an hour too early for the opening of the monastery at 9 a.m., supposedly. Our microbus was leaving at 9:30 a.m., so when it finally opened at 9:20 a.m. we were able to just dash in and take a look at the descendant of the burning bush and the chapel, before dashing out. The ride back was torture yet again, then I came back to Dahab, took a shower, and briefly fell in and out of sleep on (what I found out to be) my ant-infested mattress. I couldn't really doze, and after three hours of just lying there annoyed despite a bad headache, I decided to take out my dive book--lessons start tomorrow and per usual I haven't started studying yet--178 pages need to be read by 10 a.m. tomorrow, and I must also find time to sleep...still, kinda nice to be back in the grind, I was missing it a bit.

On another note--I would just like to remember the memory of all those who died today, Sept. 11. It's hard being far away from home and in a place like this one a day like today. And damn al-qaeda and their cowardly strategies and attacks. Apparently their new number one targets as released today are the Gulf states--Egypt, Jordan, Saudi Arabia...and then Israel (of course).

Too tired to comment further, but we'll leave it at that. For now. Just got some pictures burned and the net is quite fast here, so I'll see if I can post them

Vindication--a bit

Being a female in Egypt, especially a solo female traveler, does not have many perks. You're hit on by every shady guy in sight, often hassled and hustled, and rarely feel entirely secure.

Today I went snorkeling around the Lighthouse (beautiful) and the Eel Garden coral reef areas. The latter is right in front of the hostel here. It is also the latter that somewhat made up for my experiences as a female traveling in Morocco and Egypt. As I was making my way over to the end of this more shallow and not-so-good part of the reef, I ended up constantly bashing my feet and fins (which I rented after a particularly bashy--and bloody--run in with the reef earlier in the day, IJW 0: Reef 1). These three Egyptian boys rescued me on their surfboard, which they were paddling around and using as a base to spear exotic fish (for sport, or perhaps for food, I'm not sure). Then one of them took my hand and guided me around the entire reef like a tour guide, pointing out different types of fish, camoflouged fish in the rocks...it was spectacular. It was like my own private aquarium all around me, and now I am very excited about the diving course (eek, I have lots of studying to make up tomorrow). Anyway, he did try to put his arm around me while swimming, at which point I merely peeled his hand off and pushed it away while shaking my head; then he stopped. Seriously I can see why this is the best diving in the world. I saw a lion fish, swordfish, one of those blow fish things, eels, and at least three dozen other varieties of fish. Geez it was beautiful.

And now, in a couple hours I will be leaving (at 11 p.m. local time) for Mt. Sinai. When we get there at about 1:30 or 2 a.m., we will hike for about three hours and then catch the sunset on top before climbing back down and checking out the museum there, with a "descendent" of what is believed to be the burning bush, and then head back to Dahab...arriving around 11 a.m. Whew, I bet I'll be exhausted. Dive classes start the next day!

Anyway, here's hoping I have the energy to make the climb and that it isn't too freezing up top. Holler at y'all tomorrow.

Hurg(h)ada to Sharm-el-Sheikh to Dahab (stop).

That title sums up my last 24 hours, and I'll basically leave the tedious bits out and leave it at that.

I'm here in Dahab for the next week before heading on into Israel (finally, thank the Lord!). Dahab is known for beautiful scuba diving in the Red Sea reef--number one diving in the world (which allows them to rip off tourists), as well as--about four months ago--three bombings that killed a dozen and injured scores of tourists. The city is now nearly empty of tourists because it is also low season, and it's eerie walking around here. On the other hand, the place is also beautiful...the sea is very clear and warm (though salty), the weather warm, and the accommodation quite cheap (for the setting). Tomorrow night I will be trekking up Mt. Sinai at 2 a.m. in order to get to the top in time for the sunrise. We leave Dahab at about 11 p.m. and get back the next morning at 11 a.m. I think I'll be quite whiped out. The next day I will begin a PADI open water diving course that will go on for about fourish days. Then off to Tabah and Israel. That's the program.

Frankly, I cannot wait to get to Israel. Over here I am really watching my back. I've heard a lot of Israelis have been treated really badly here. No one knows anything about me or my true travel plans (when they ask I tell them I'm going to be going to Jordan later). I also lie flat out about my nationality. Though I know it's for safety's sake, it makes me quite sad. I'm proud of who I am and where I'm from. I hate the way things have become here.

Though Egypt is a beautiful country with lots of history, monuments and wonderful sights...I do not think I will be coming back.

Perhaps this is a mild case of homesickness talking--after all, lots of things are going on right now--or maybe it's just the case of traveling for a month in an area that many travelers have called "the hardest of the hardest" countries to travel in, in general, but especially as a woman alone.

The beautiful scenery only emphasizes the fact that I feel somewhat incomplete, like all this rings a bit false on the "happy meter"--yes, I should find all this completely fulfilling, but I cannot fully relax here and be myself.

I'm really banking on Israel--let's hope that works out alright. This summer and fall have already been ones of huge change--and while my friends and sister start school, I find it hard not getting back into the academic grind--I find myself missing the classroom, the wonderful life I did not truly appreciate in Berkeley until...now.

Just one of those days. I suppose. Life really is sinusoidal.

I can't believe I'm so behind on my updates!

Okay, here I'm gonna go and try and give you all the updates because I hate working in past tense...

The felucca trip up the Nile was awesome. Period. We all got ripped off a bit on the deal, although I got ripped off the least of other peoples (and that's basically the way it's been this entire trip). I guess you make do as best you can--flex those bargaining muscles. Oh, on a side note, did I ever mention the lady-camel exchanges that go on here, quite jokingly (one assumes)? Let me know if I haven't and I will explain...

Anyway, the morning of my felucca trip I was told to wake up and be ready by 8:30 a.m...of course, according to Egyptian time, we didn't even get out of Luxor until nearly 2 or 3 p.m. (I can no longer remember, but the two are essentially the same--late). For those of you who don't know, a felucca is basically a small sailboat with a padded deck that serves as a bed and everything else...captains rent out their boats for 7-8 people for a number of days and nights and sail up the Nile. It's extremely relaxing and lots of fun--plus you meet tons of cool people. For me it was a near-complete reunion of the Abu Simbel crew, and we entertained ourselves well throughout the days and nights. Some more than others in more alcoholic or drug induced manners. I was surprised the felucca captains didn't start bringing out prostitutes for us--if you get my drift--they sold us everything and anything else!

Some people went swimming in the Nile, and I can say I was sorely tempted, but the idea of bloody piss and bloody stools...kept me away. Although...my feet did get splashed a couple times (*knocks on wood*).

So I was on the felucca for about two nights and two-ish days. The last day was...yesterday!...and basically involved traveling into Luxor and stopping by a couple temples on the way. I can say I was quite excited to get to Luxor and finish up the temples and monuments--I was nearly monumented out, and I've nearly memorized the history and background information on Egypt in my Lonely Planet guide.

On arriving into Luxor, my new travel buddy Jim--an American guy from San Francisco living in Dubai and teaching SAT courses there--and I searched for some accommodation together. We were able to get the people down to 15 Egyptian pounds (less than $3 for a double room with a bathroom and shower, plus free tea, laundry use, and breakfast. Not too shabby.

That very same day we went out to see Karnak and the Luxor Temple after enjoying a nice lunch of fresh salad and kushari an Egyptian food that is made of rice, beans, fried onions, macaroni and tomato sauce--with hot sauce and garlic/lemon juice if you like. It's amazingly delicious. Yesterday was also one of the first dasys in a long time when I was been traveling fully rested, and after a nice shower to cleanse myself of the felucca dirt (the water was brownish/black), I borrowed clean pants from Jim, and I was good to go. Both sights were wondrous (running out of adjectives here)...it was also damn hot, but we were trying to keep hydrated and were drinking lots of water.

When we got back we did a couple quick loads of laundry (basically the typical handwashing), and then went to grab dinner. I had stuffed pigeon--an Egyptian specialty--for the first time. It was rather boney...not too much meat on it, but it tasted like chicken! Seriously. It was quite good, but even so, I don't think I'll be eating it again...I can't really wrap my minds around the fact that I'm eating a pigeon...

After a stop by the net cafe and some mango juice boxes on the roof top we called it a night. Early the next morning (today) we would be waking up at 7 a.m. to head out early for the infamous Valley of the Kings and Queens, Hatshepsut Temple and the Collossi of Memnon.

***


And so it goes, that today (finally speaking in the present) we headed out for the tourist spots of all tourist spots. Since it was hot as heck here...and apparently supposed to be about 110 degrees Fahrenheit...I decided to ditch the modest wear and splash out in sports. After all, I would be at the epicenter of Egyptian tourist activity, and whatever I was wearing (shorts and a tee-shirt), someone else would be wearing a worser variation of the same thing--oh yes, and this was so true (all I will say is flimsy, form-fitting clothes that do not fit, on Eastern European girls)...

It was lovely being in shorts. Oh so lovely. We were paired by a rather knowledgable Egyptologist (supposedly), but I found the majority of his comments a reiteration of facts I a) already knew, or b) could easily read in half the time in my guidebook. Although, for Hatshepsut Temple he was quite helpful...

After all the sightseeing, we were starving, dehydrated and tired (it was like...2 p.m. when we were done, and we'd been out in the sun nearly the entire time)...

Jim and I both had a real falafel craving, and we talked the guide into joining us for lunch at a good local falafel place (his choice). The food was excellent, and damn cheap. All three of us ate our fill for less than $1. The only thing that tainted the experience was the guide's launch into a hate-filled monologue on America, Americans, Bush, Israel, and a justification of 9/11. At that final thing, I had to say something. And I did, telling him that there is no excuse for killing innocent people--absolutely zero--and that death, anywhere, is a bad thing. Clear and simple enough, and spoken as tactfully and honestly as possible (as well as slowly), he was somewhat agreeable. Then I told him that politics ruins one's appetite and digestion, and he agreed that we should not longer talk about it. Whew. (His next topic was about how a guy should always be older than his wife because then he can control her--if a woman is of equal age to a man, she will always control him because women are "more clever.") Ehm.

Afterwards we said our goodbyes to the guide (hater), and continued over to the bus station to get a ticket for Hurgada (a coastal town) that we will leave for tomorrow, spend one night in as a pitt-stop, before heading over to Sharm-el-Sheikh by ferry the next morning, then Mount Sinai and eventually Dahab (where I plan to get a diving license). The walk to and from the bus station was not fun--especially since I was in shorts--and we did it as quickly as possible. Luckily I was walking around with a guy, so I was a-okay enough. But, I wouldn't venture out like that again (and it wasn't my intention to begin with).

When we finally got back to the hotel we were both incredibly glad, and settled in for a couple hours of relaxation. I've been studying up on my Spanish. Since Jim's traveled in South America for about six months and is fluent in Spanish as well as a teacher, he was quite excited to help me out on my Spanish by testing me on things. It ended up working out really great, and I was able to review a lot of the things I haven't touched since my first month in Brussels when I was just starting to study.

For dinner tonight we got kushari again, and then some fresh mango juice (two big glasses for about 50 cents)...now we're using the net before probably going back to freshen up and call it a night. I think I could probably use another cup of mango...mmmm....

***

Wow. I'm caught up. Thanks for bearing with me. I shall attempt to be more prolific as well as up to date from now on. Oh yes, and now I can dwell on some interesting points about these places that I've noticed. For example, Luxor--the epicenter of tourism--as I call it, is incredibly poor. Many streets are not properly paved...I mean, it's a level of poverty one would imagine in India or any other well-publicized third world country. It really is the third world here, and it's incredibly sad to think sometimes that we are probably seeing the people that are doing well. It's a very odd thing to imagine these people functioning back home in the States, or imagining how your life would be if you had not been born where you were, but instead born in Egypt or Morocco, for example. You definitely notice the privileges you have, and you appreciate them.

On a somewhat different note, the begging here is incredibly annoying at times. I've finally found a fair way of dealing with it, because here you will always be walking by people who randomly yell at you "Give me your money"--"Money, money, money"--Baksheesh...?!?!? (tip?!?!?)--often after doing nothing more than helping you down a step or pointing you in the proper direction of something. Tourists are walking money. Little children, poor women, old men and young boys all chase after you wanting your money. They even hide around corners and pop out asking you for "baksheesh." It's horrible...

Anyway, today I started asking them for baksheesh when I walked by--especially if they were trying to sell me something and wouldn't leave me alone. The joking was well received by them and they'd venture to put one Egyptian pound in my hand or smile along with me, before taking their hand back, and then moving on to another tourist. Finally, a method to the madness!

Feels good to talk in the present...more tomorrow!

One of those "days"

Well really my second day in Aswan was a long continuation of my first day in Aswan and my last day in Cairo...I got in about a 2 hour nap before it was time to head out to catch the bus and convoy to head down to Abu Simbel.

The police convoys started out as a way to assure tourists a certain amount of security in northern Egypt and between the well-traveled Luxor-Aswan route...especially after the bombing of the Hatshepsut Temple in Luxor a number of years ago (sorry, checkout wikipedia, I'm tired). Anyway, these convoys soon became more of an hinderance than anything else. Two or three lightly armed military personnel accompanied shiploads of tourists who were forced to travel according to the government's specified times and their schedules--in order to keep these guys employed. The few milit guys try and prove their machismo by driving as fast as they can in a type of "Abu Simble Grand Prix"...that forces every other convoy driver to go as quickly as they can to stay with them. Soon you have buses, microbuses and all manners of trucks, cars, transport cutting each other off on single-lane roads. Not only that, but if some Islamic insurgent did want to do something...they would have the exact times and regular schedules of dozens of tourists, all in one spot. That's Egypt!

Oh yes, and Egypt also has the highest rate of car accident deaths in the world. I have no doubt of the veracity of that fact.

Anyway, we sped over to Abu Simbel--the convoy left at 4 a.m. (we had to be up at 3 a.m.), and we got there around 7:30 a.m. On the bus I met about 11 other people that I would end up running into, meeting up, hanging out, or traveling along with...for what looks to be...the rest of my trip. The low-season tourist group in Egypt (of independent backpackers, that is), seems to be quite small, and we own the Aswan-Luxor-Hurgada-Sharm el Sheikh-Mt. Sinai-Dahab route (the rest of my route, in case you were wondering).

Abu Simbel itself was everything you've heard and more. Unfortunately, the site was moved because of the dam...however, it's still as awe-inspiring when you see it. Too bad I was running on very little energy when I did. I barely had enough energy to hold conversations with my other fellow travelers (I was not very social, we'll see), in addition to try and sightsee and take photos. As one fellow traveler put it while taking my picture: "That is the saddest fake smile I've ever seen in my life."

Well, after Abu Simbel, and a look at the High Dam, which spurred the Suez Crisis through it's building...(that Nasser...), we finally headed back to Aswan where I tried to take a nap (again, only two hours), before waking up, using the Internet and contemplating whether or not I should go to meet up with Ahmed again. When I last left off here, I had decided against doing so...

But of course, that wasn't the end of the story.

For some reason, I was feeling a bit restless (despite the fact that I would have to be up at 7:30 a.m. the next morning for a felucca trip, and that I hadn't slept much). And so, I decided perhaps it would be nice to see Ahmed one last time and say goodbye, especially since I hadn't had a chance to properly thank him for all he had done. As I start walking over in the direction of the hotel these taxi men start making comments and laugh as I yawn (without covering my mouth)..."Fatiguee?" they ask me in French, to which I respond "Ouai..." and that was it, I was French for the night.

As I continued walking some guy kept calling after me, abnormally though, and when I turned and asked him what was going on he told me he was offering me a taxi. I said I had no money to pay a taxi and was walking (all in broken English/French). But the guy said it was no problem, that he'd take me anyway. I shrugged and said what the hell, and went. As I'm sitting in his car, while he is pulling away, the original taxi man who first made comments to me walks over and with the most lecherous, disgusting and creepy smile tells me he'll be waiting for me when I get back. I'd read in my Lonely Planet guide that many Arabs think that Western girls are all prostitutes, especially if they get into random strangers' cars, even taxi drivers, alone. Indeed. My skin was crawling.

While we're driving to the hotel I engage in a mind-numbing broken English small-talk that would make you want to kill yourself because of it's monotony...He gives me his phone number as he drops me off telling me to call him if my friend who is staying there cannot drive me back (all part of a story). I tell him okay, with the full intention of never seeing him again. However, five minutes later I learn that Ahmed will actually not be done with work for a while--at least 30 minutes, and as I looked around there was not a taxi in sight...in fact, not a person in sight. This was not a place I wanted to hang out. I called up the taxi driver who came right over. He told me it was a good thing that my friend was not available and soon he was taking me to stop by while he got a blackmarket drug for his neckache, and then off to get pizza (his treat), and then tea and sheesha (also his treat), plus a bottle of water. Throughout all of this he tried to convince me to go meet his mother at his house (no), to stay out longer (no), to eat, drink (no, no)...for the last two he wouldn't take no for an answer, saying he would get the food and give it to me in the car (so I let myself be persuaded for the two things in open public). I told him I was tired and wanted to go to sleep early. I never felt really in danger with him because I knew that I was in a crowded enough area by then and could just go on my way. As he is driving me back to my place he asks me for a kiss, and I reply in exaggerated horror that my Muslim-Iranian-fiance back home (another carefully constructed story) and I did not do much more than hold hands--if that! Then I asked him to take me home quickly please. He apologized profusely and said he didn't mean anything by it, just wanted to ask, that I shouldn't be afraid and that he'd take me right back. Good.

The thing was, I'd read up a bit on Egyptian culture as well as spoken with some Egyptians, and in Egypt boyfriends and girlfriends don't do much more than hold hands. Ever. So everything fell into line, so to speak. To the guy I was a law-abiding, conservative Muslim, despite my Western clothing. Off bounds, for real. Well, as much as possible. Sigh.

Anyway, I was dropped off right where he'd first seen me. However, as I was about to get out that shady guy with the lecherous look came strolling over, grinning scarily...I told the guy quickly--pretending panicky French (which, if you haven't noticed, he understood a lot of) that the "Monsieur" from before was coming...

The guy saw my mock terror (as real) and he said he'd drop me off elsewhere. He did so. I got out of the car and thanked him...ran up to my hotel room and breathed a sigh of relief. Humdell'Allah.

Last day in Cairo, first day in Aswan...

The last day in Cairo actually never really ends since I don't get much sleep (and in fact, it's meshed right into this second day in Aswan, today)...

My third, and last, day in Cairo was not very eventful to be honest. I tried nursing myself back to health a bit...did laundry, read some of my book, blogged!, and then took a cab out to see "Islamic Cairo" and the citadel. In one of the mosques (Muhammed Ali) I was given a cape (seriously) to keep my already covered self (shoulders, that is), more modest. The walk around was nice...the Military Museum in the citadel was quite interesting actually. There was an entirely different outlook on history that I had never experienced. The tanks used from the "1948, 1956 and 1973" wars were displayed with pride, as well as the captured Israeli tanks (U.S.-made)...and everywhere people were mumbling about that.

I wanted to checkout "Coptic Cairo" and the synagogue there, but it closed very early (Friday in a Muslim country), and so, like many things here, I will have to return to take a better/first look.

After chatting with some people at the hostel and buying some dinner ($3.50 for a bag full of falafel (10-15 balls), three salad cases and maybe eight pitas), I headed out for the train station. Traffic was dismal and I was a little worried I'd miss the train, but I got there 10 minutes ahead of schedule and really nice people there helped me find my car. "Welcome, welcome..."

In my "first class" (ehmmm) compartment--a cubicle for six--an "Indian" (actually I found out they were Kenyan, but looked Indian) family joined me. They were living in London and in Egypt for a "vacation" because their eldest son (they had two boys) had done well on his exams. The family was very awesome and we chatted and played travel Scrabble (woohoo! they had it!) for a lot of the time. I won both games, which was really fun...was less than 30 away from breaking 300.

Anyway, the interminable voyage--and really, it became that as the train stopped constantly and was delayed by three hours en route for no particular reason--continued. An Egyptian man sat in the remaining seat of the car but didn't say much. The family and I commiserated on our lack of vacations, constant battling, bargaining and tourist treatment. It was nice to vent.

It was a sleepless night and day...it took 12 hours to get to Luxor--their stop--and then 15 hours to get to Aswan...with a freezing air-con car (they only do extremes here, so it seems).

When the family got off the train the Egyptian man told me to come with him for tea, practically ordered me out of my seat and told me to leave my sac with his there. I took a couple bags with me even so...and off we went down the platform. I was worried the train would leave, but he seemed to know what he was doing. He got me a cup of tea as well as himself, and we went back to the car, and got in right as the train took off. The tea was delicious.

I chatted with the man, Ahmed Hawash, and we talked about everything--he was glad to hear of my ethnicity, but we couldn't speak too much as he had rather broken English. The guy knew the essentials though to be kindly and hospitable...and he had an incredibly jovial laugh that made me chuckle every time. When these two police officers came by and tried questioning me he covered for me and gave them a whole story. Later he went to the bathroom and while he was gone one of the officers came by and eyed the compartment, then came in and spoke to me (I think he was trying to chat me up). Anyway, the other guy got back soon enough and the officer sat down next to me and Ahmed across the way. Ahmed kept him preoccupied, telling the guy I was from London, and all this other stuff (couldn't understand it all), I nodded my head in agreement a lot of the time, and the two chatted away. A couple times the officer tried to get me involved, but Ahmed would wave things toward another direction. After what seemed forever, the officer left.

Ahmed gave me his cheese sandwiches he'd packed, his mango juice box, and before we left the train (finally in Aswan), his water. Then he took one of my bags and walked me out. He had told me during the trip that he worked in a five-star hotel in Aswan, Basma Hotel, and he worked a month there, then went back to Cairo for a week to his house by the pyramids. Our entire family was invited to stay with him, and me and my future husband will get the key to his house, apparently, for as long as we like.

He tried walking me to a nearby hotel, but I found it too expensive, plus I wanted to meet some cool people I'd seen in Cairo at another hostel I was interested in. I was a tad suspicious about the hotel thing, but then soon enough realized he was willing to walk me anywhere, but that was the only budget option he knew of near the train station. Ahmed apparently knows all the officials and the police in Aswan, he kept telling me if I had any problem or if anything went wrong, to call him and there'd be "no problem." He also invited me for tea and dinner at the Basma Hotel that night. I told him I'd call him later, thanked him profusely, and headed off to the hostel.

After bargaining down my rate, showering and catching up on a little sleep (1.5 hours), I headed out--met up with Liz and Dan (two Brits I'd met in Cairo) and we proceeded to do a bit of research on the prices of trips to Abu Simbel and a felucca trip up the Nile (2 nights, 3 days)...They had less time, so they'd be on a different trip. Our hotel, like any other place, was aggressively trying to sell us trips and rip us off. However, we were able to force them down after some good researching. I got them down from 205 Egyptian pounds for everything to 140 Egyptian pounds. Others on my trip had paid significantly more...which kinda sucked (for them, at least).

Then it was nearly 9:30 p.m. and I called up Ahmed. He told me that I shouldn't eat, and that I should come by! I felt badly leaving Liz and Dan behind, so they came along as well...though I was worried about how that would work as well.

When we got to the hotel--a beautiful immaculate palce overlooking the Nile--we sat in awe at the reception feeling rather dirty and ratty. Ahmed came down with the hotel management, dressed in his chef clothing, complete with hat. He graciously escorted all three of us to the dining room where an entire staff was on call in the empty room just for me (us)! We were put at a table and I was told that "Chef Hawash also invites your friends."

Ahmed jovially took me around to meet all the hotel administrators, managers and the owner, then we proceeded to get stuffed with food. First we ordered drinks (fresh lemonade), a round of soup, salad, fish, vegetables, meat (beef and chicken), rice, pasta, and then a whole case of dessert to choose from...plus tea.

We were all in awe.

The only taint on the night was this adminstrator who joined us for dessert and started heaping criticsm on the US, Israel, praising Hezbollah and Osama Ben Laden. Dan and Liz were visibly disturbed (both are studying Islam and interested in converting, they also know I am American and Jewish)...they both kept questioning the man "but killing in Islam...etc..."...I finally understood why Ahmed had told the people there that I was English...because it was safer for me. This man was scary. Ahmed just gave me a wink, rolled his eyes at me and chuckled softly to himself. I half grimaced back to him...

Throughout the ordeal I stayed calmly silent and made blase grand statements, "there's a real problem in the world today," "Ah, politics."...somewhat amused. I was used to it. After the man left I told Dan and Liz (Dan was so upset his face was red) not to worry, that I was okay, and that they should pick their battles...the man was way too extremist to change, and there's not point angering him, etc.

After dinner we all piled into a car together supposedly to go back to the hostel (it was nearly midnight), but there was a Nubian wedding!...well, anyway, after getting a nice tour of the Nubian villages, we found out the wedding ceremony was that night, but the party the next night (it's a three day affair). We were all exhausted, and headed back for the hostel where we were dropped off. I would have to wake up at 3 a.m. to head to Abu Simbel with the police convoy (for "security" reasons) the next day. It is about 3.5 hours south of Aswan, and only 24 miles away from the Sudan. When we got out of the car, Ahmed gave me a big bag full of breakfast foods, yogurt, jams, breads and pastries, plus a bottle of water--he told me to call him when I got back the next day (today) and come by for dinner again "Insh'Allah."

I'm a tad too overheated and exhausted in this net cafe to document my day today. Let's just say for now that it was a day that passed in murky half-awake, half-asleep state. I still have a reverberating headache and I think I will go to sleep early tonight. Humdel'Allah and Insh'Allah.

It's about 9 p.m. here, and I think I should give Ahmed a call. I don't think I will take him up on his offer tonight...skipping dinner and the Nubian wedding. I'm quite exhausted and tomorrow I head up the Nile in a felucca for two nights and three days of travel up to Kom Ombo, and then Luxor (with the Valley of the Kings and all that!). It seems like I will never be up to date on this site...one day behind right now...and soon to be three days behind. Oh well. Bear with me.

Mom and Dad, I don't have net access these next couple days, but I'll still be reachable on my cell. I leave at 8:30 a.m. tomorrow morning, Egypt time (and Egypt standard time--meaning perhaps later). If anyone ever wants to give me a call or text...checkout facebook for my Egyptian cell number. =)

Day 2 in Cairo

I was supposed to be up at 9 a.m. to hit the road early with two friends of mine that I'd met at the hostel: Mahmad and Nas. Both Brits, one from Somalia, the other from Pakistan. (I asked Mahmad if he'd ever heard the saying "eat your food, there's starving children in Somalia"--he hadn't, but the conversation was...awkward/interesting (use your imagination).)

Well, we finally get out of the hostel at about 11 a.m. and head to the pyramids in a taxi. Now the pyramids of Giza are (who woulda thought?) a notorious spot for touts and hustlers. As we were driving up to the place these two guys tried to get into the taxi on my side, luckily Nas and I spotted them eyeing the door while trying to coerce the driver who they apparently had a "deal" with. I slammed my finger down on the door lock and Nas did the same on his side. Meanwhile, the two guys started getting quite agitated. Mahmad, who knows Arabic, was playing stupid and telling them we didn't want anything. But the two guys kept yelling at the driver who was stopped in traffic. They sat on the trunk of the car and hit the top of the car. When the driver put his hand out of the cab to wave them off they kicked his hand and out flung his previous cab fare onto the street. The driver, glaring, got out of the cab and picked up the money that was blowing down the street with traffic, and got back into his seat. As he tried to keep driving slowly, the two guys took turns pushing him through the window and smacking him on the head. Soon enough though we were off. All of us quite shell-shocked. Only a couple more kilometers to the pyramids. Already more hustlers were swarming toward our car.

We told the guy to let us off a little ways off so he wouldn't be attacked--we could deal with them--we'd just say no repeatedly. Anyway, that sort of thing is regular at the pyramids, and kind of taints the experience. Everybody who goes there is ripped off or hassled in some way. It's a real pity, but there is also real poverty in Egypt, so...(However, that said, I do not understand men who try and hassle tourist women traveling on their own, especially after they've said no, late at night.)

The pyramids were amazing, but also quite draining. A lot of the times we paid money in order to suffer the claustrophic underground climb through a narrow downhill/uphill path to a chamber, and back out. Throngs of tourists clogged the passageways, sometimes stopping to panic (oh yeah, real smart), or to catch the breaths. I only felt the mild creeping in of claustraphobia when this group decided to stop right outside the exit of a pyramid...we just stood hunched over about 30 feet down in the pyramid, but could see the light. Some people started hyperventilating near us and Mahmad and I yelled to the people to keep moving. I started to encouragingly (or maybe annoyingly) chant "left, right, left, right"...

When we all got out these people were gasping for breath--"Humdell'Allah!"...(Praise be G-d!). I had to laugh.

After the pyramids and the sphinx, we headed over to the stables to get a horse ride. However, let me just say that these horses were very ill-kept and had visibly suffered abuse. None of us felt safe or comfortable on the horses--people would joyfully whip them as we cantered past...causing them to seize up in shock and (I imagine) pain. We got off the horses as quickly as possible, paid the men and complained about the condition of the horses and their treatment. I didn't take any pictures.

That done...and unfortunately we'd been scammed--though we'd walked all the way over to the stables, the man at the front had followed us in and been from the "outside"--so we didn't get the good horses, just his horses (I hadn't seen him follow us, but the two guys told me afterward.)...in any case, I was too busy negotiating a good price. Good lot that did.

Exhausted, dehydrated and starved...(it was one of the hottest days in Cairo that day), we headed into town by taxi to get a quick meal. I was so famished I decided to treat myself and order whatever I like on the menu--mango juice, water, 7up, felafel, schwarma, fries, and four salads later...I was stuffed! (And it only cost me...$3. A normal street-food full meal will cost about $1).

The two guys headed back to the hostel to shower and rest. I had to go to the train station and get myself info and a ticket to Aswan the next day. Joy.

Feeling a bit faint, I carried on, walking down the street...and after circling about for a while, finally found the station. The problem for me was that the bus and train station are right near each other, and I was worried about ending up at the wrong one, and people only seemed to understand the word "station." (I now have a pretty good mime imitation of a train...I throw in some sound effects when I'm feeling particularly spry.)

When I got to the station it was mobbed with people swarming the ticket lines. I finally found my way over to the proper area to get my ticket (trust me, that took a while), and soaked through with sweat, joined the masses. An Egyptian tourist police man (originally intended to protect tourist, but now as corrupt as every other body there, and more a means to keep people employed) approached me and asked me where I was from. When you tell people here that you are from the States, they will invariably give you a wan smile and a thumbs up sign, or a non-enthused "good." When they inquire further and learn my father is Iranian, I get their true perceptions.

This guy was no different, and he immediately told me that the tickets were sold out and that if I wanted to wait 20 minutes and talk to him, that he could help me get a ticket--he kept motioning to his tourist police armband as proof of his legitimacy, but I was skeptical--hustlers will do anything in this country. I told him I'd check up on the tickets myself and let him know.

As I wandered around, some guy tried chatting me up and I pretended not to know any English, which was successful. The sleeping cars down to Aswan cost a whopping $52 US dollars, which must be paid in that currency. No can do. Another Egyptian man saw my plight and, muttering to himself, "mafia"...tried asking the different windows (first and second class regular trains) if they had available tickets for the next day. None.

I was this close to splurging and just getting a sleeping car, for "safety's sake"--that's B.S. by the way, the regular trains have pretty decent security and just make sure you're in a car with other people--when the policeman found me in line and motioned me over to him.

Oh! I forgot to mention, some guy had a seizure or heat stroke while at the station (I've seen this three times now during my travels)...it was frightful, and when he finally came out of it...he had a huge bump on his head and was very disoriented.

Anyway, as I was saying, the policeman motion brusquely asks me if I'm a student (you get a discount), takes my student card, and walks away. I stand there contemplating the possible losses--about $14 for the card...small price to pay for a big lesson. He tells me to sit down by this sign, but there my line of sight is obscured, so I move over to another seat and nonchalantly gaze over in his direction. He disappears.

About 10 minutes later the guy comes back and asks me again about the details of my trip--Cairo-Aswan, overnight, first class (I figure this will be "more secure" than second).

He disappears again, and when he gets back he motions me to a back room/cafe area. We sit down and get tea and a pastry (later I find out this is on me), and he shows me the scraps of paper and tiny piece of cardboard with pen writing on it in Arabic--my ticket.

Before paying the man I ask to see his badge (a card in Arabic that I cannot read), so I ask to see his gun (kinda scary), and then I get his name. By then nearly two hours have gone by, and I pay him, telling him to keep five Egyptian pounds for his trouble (he's already keeping another six, I find out), and then I pay for our tea. All in all, the whole thing set me back nearly $20.

As we walked out of the station, he kept repeating the train time, number, platform and car--he'd also written it out for me in English. He told me his work shift the following day, and then he left me at the exit. I walked straight ahead for a couple minutes and then circled about the exit to the entrance and keeping one eye on him fading into the crowd, walked swiftly over to another police officer there (with an armband in Arabic, not English) to ask him about the ticket. He seemed to think I was trying to catch the train right then, and kept pointing to the platform. Good sign. But not enough for me. I walked over to a cafe there and asked two young guys reading books in Arabic if the ticket was real. Yup, it was, and they invited me to join them for tea. I politely declined and headed back to my hostel--exhausted.

Of course, in the metro some guy on his phone keeps staring at me (all that sweaty shine), and when I race down the platform towards the front of the metro for the women's car (it was too late), I turn around and see him in the same car. He'd followed me. I took my favorite place in any metro--back to the opposite door/standing and ignored him while playing with my phone/texting. After about five minutes of him staring at me, he had to get off the metro. Woot.

When I finally get back to my hostel, I am aching for a shower. I ask the people working there about the ticket and tell them my experience. They aren't surprised. Apparently, that's how all Egyptians by their tickets to Aswan because it's just a big touristy line. There are never any tickets, but a huge blackmarket of tickets that the officers hoard for themselves and for the proper bribes, etc.

I'd only paid about five pounds (or $1) more than a regular Egyptian. What an experience.

After my shower (yes, there is more to this day), I get invited to a Nubian wedding, borrow a skirt from a girl there and off a bunch of us at the hostel go. Right next door is an Egyptian wedding...(Picture women in hejabs dancing to "Get your freak on...")...Arabic men sure can dance.

The Nubian wedding is far more conservative, with a live band and classic Nubian music, plus genders sitting and dancing separately. It doesn't get started till about midnight/1 a.m...and I am whiped. (By the way, I'm in invited to a Nubian wedding tonight, in Aswan, but I don't think I'll be going...).

We all head home at about 2:30 a.m. by taxi, and I chat with some people till about 4 a.m. and then crawl into bed. Oh what a day/night. The next day will be my last in Cairo, not only do I have lots to do, but I will be taking a night train to Aswan ("13 hours" supposedly) that next day as well.

International Jay-Walking

In no place have I quite lived up to my name as I have in Cairo. And there is no other way.

Though I am now writing about this about 600 km away in Aswan, my memories of Cairo traffic and Cairo itself are quite vivid. I'm still trying to cough up the petrol fumes that have diffused throughout my lungs.

There's a saying here that if you wear a white shirt in Cairo, by the end of the day it will be black. After my second day, I took a paper towel to my face...and it came away with what looked like a layer of soot. Lovely.

Anyway, as I was saying, jay-walking.

There's no other way to cross the road here. No one follows traffic signals or signs, and you just fearlessly march on to your destination, swerving and turning your body to the tide of traffic. I love(d) it. It seems like I've been well trained.

The drivers here too...are incredible. I saw two accidents my first day there, nothing serious though. A lot of my fellow "Westerners" go into a bit of shock trying to deal with the traffic or car driving tactics here. Oddly enough, I feel at home. Ha.

Oh, on a bit of a nonsequiter here, I never mentioned the fact that girls in Morocco are called "gazelles"--"Hey there gazelle!" or "Look at those gazelles" can be commonly heard on the street. I actually find it one of the few nicknames for women that seems actually somewhat complimentary. (The men are "gazous.")

Anyway, dodging traffic in Egypt (and I still am having a hard time readjusting my references--Egyptian pounds not Moroccan dirham, we're in Egypt, not Morocco!...) makes one distinctly feel like a real-life gazelle.

Finally, that first day in Egypt.

Ah, day one in Cairo. What a day it was. Here it's a lot more humid than in Morocco, so I travel about with a constant sheen of sweat on my that I cannot seem to get rid of despite the number of showers I take. I do these little mini-washes during the day in bathrooms, trying to cleanse off the dirt and sweat, but it's hardly effective.

When I got into Cairo from the airport at 7 a.m. I was already incredibly exhausted. I surveyed the next couple hours of getting into town and finding my hostel in my mind with a certain amount of dread and fatigue usually reserved for those major obstacles in life (huge exams, personal problems, etc...).

As I walked out of the airport, tourist touts from all over swarmed to meet me. "Official guides" asked me if I was meeting someone or had a place. Whether or not I did or did not, or was or was not (did, but wasn't), I told them yes. It's a common enough scam, and luckily I'd studied up on it. Many others I'd spoken to later had not...and these "government officials" screwed them over--hard.

First order of business was to get money at the ATM. When the machine took my card and then told me that I'd have to get a new card because the machine had eaten it...I was near losing it. Luckily, it was likely another scam, because a minute afterward the proper screen came up. I got my money out...and my card was returned! Hallelujah! Then the screen came up that said "Out of Order." I was lucky.

I got outside and after lots of frustrating searching ("there are no buses, you must take a taxi!")...I found the bus into two for 1/10 the price I would have had to pay for a taxi. The thing is, here, everyone, even locals, have to fight for everything...tickets, taxis, buying whatever you need...it's all bargaining, baksheesh (small tips), corruption up and down the ranks...life is a constant battle. It makes me appreciate the simplicity of the west, but, then again, there is a lot of color to life here.

After getting to my hostel and taking a quick nap I head out to search for a SIM card for my cell phone. I also have to buy a ISIC (international student card) as Egypt doesn't accept any normal cards and these save 1/2 on everything throughout the country (I made back my money the first day!). After trundling through the streets in the heat and still exhausted having not slept the night before in the plane, plus getting hassled by almost everyone as I tried to find the proper store...I'm close to losing my cool. While asking for information from a very (seemingly) nice guy...my eyes are tearing up and I can barely help myself. He seems distressed, but finishes giving me directions, and an hour after I started off I circle back around and finally find the right store. When I walk in and ask for the SIM card (which by then represented more than the card itself, but my means and access to the outside world--family, friends, comfort), I was so relieved that I nearly started bawling.

I think the stress was starting to show. The guy working at the store spoke near-perfect English and he was alarmed by my tears. After he calmed me down he helped me get my card and everything in order. Though he kindly told me the price and said he was making it "special" to help me regain my confidence, I was like a formerly abused foster child, I didn't know if I could trust him. Later I found out that he had, indeed, given me a cheaper deal and been honest with me. Humdull'allah.

Digression: Here they incorporate phrases like "Insh'Allah" (G-d willing) and "Humdull'allah" (Thank G-d) in everyday speech...which actually isn't too far gone from what I normally do in English with "G-d willing" and "G-d forbid." Works nicely for me.

After getting the SIM card I had to hail a taxi to get the ISIC card across town. The trick is to stand by the side of the road and shout like a local until a taxi stops, tell them your destination while getting in and go. Don't mention the price. If you can blend in, pretend to be a local and make use of your limited Arabic. I jumped into a cab and stated the place name in the best Arabic I could muster (polished through numerous mental recitations), and off we went. My cab driver offered me half of his sandwich that he couldn't finish, and we drove on. It was delicious and made me feel a lot better. He spoke to me some in Arabic, and I continued the charade, making small talk with about four of the words I knew--feigning exhaustion and shyness (not too hard). At one point he offered to stop to get me a sandwich, but I told him no thanks, and when we finally got to my destination I got out of the cab, said thanks, and gave him the amount of money (you should research this amount ahead, and just know).

After getting the card I grabbed a bottle of water and went on my way to the Egyptian Museum by metro. The metro was great, very efficient and fast--I was in the women's card up front...which was nice and hassle free.

Eek, running out of time here. Anyway, The Egyptian Museum was a real highlight. I had my guidebook with me, which basically outlined things room by room and key object by object...it saved me money on a guide, which otherwise is quite necessary because the place is not very well labeled or indicated. The museum is amazing. By far one of my favorites. All of those things you read about and study when you are a kid, are there! Well, many of them. Tutenkhamun...and the like. I was there for three hours, but I could have easily spent three days. I did not even feel tired!

After the museum I was on a quest to find good food. I bumped into this random American University of Cairo Egyptian student who seemed nice enough. He told me straight out--no money, no hustling--and he likes meeting foreigners, he's lived a year in Germany. By then I was too tired to be suspicious, and I didn't get a bad vibe. The guy--Muhammed, or Alex, as he preferred to be called since there are so many Muhammed's in Egypt--and I grabbed dinner at an awesome and cheap place ($1 for my entire meal!), he helped me change the language on my phone and helped me get to Khan el-Khalili market place area here where there was a free Sufi dancing show that night. We exchanged info and off I went.

At the Sufi dancing show line I met a couple American University students...who were Americans! It was a nice relief to talk to some other Americans and I saw the show with them.

Sufi dancing...is undescribable really, you must see it. Basically these people dance as a way of worshipping G-d, and they essentially go into these trance-like states while dancing. The show was very professional, instrumental, and long...

Afterward I met up with Alex and two of his friens (an American and Canadian) and we went up on the roof of this place for sheesha (hookah) and fresh juice--guava/lemon.

I finally got back to my hostel exhausted at about 1 a.m...and crashed.

Day 2 coming up soon...the pyramids, Cairo traffic and living up to my namesake, the black market and a Nubian (Sudanese-Egyptian) wedding!

"Are you Egyptian?"

Again the familiar words are echoed to me. "Just tell them you're Egyptian, you're not a tourist."

"You have an Egyptian look about you."

"Your face is a Moroccan face."

It seems, wherever I go here in Africa, I seem to easily fit right in. It's odd. Only here has my ethnicity been so easy for some people to figure out. Here being these last couple months abroad. One girl told me that I must have a parent that is Middle Eastern and another that is Asian. I stared at her in awe before telling her that she should go into this line of work...

Anyway aside from the hundreds of people who think I am either Moroccan, when in Morocco, or Egyptian when in Egypt. Both very useful, although you are still ripped off. I get a lot better deals though when they know I am half Iranian...hmm...Anyway, aside from that, people often think I am Spanish, French (very common)...

...and the weirdest thing--Chinese or Japanese. It's so odd how everyone tons of people here ask me if I am Asian. A couple people have come up to me speaking Chinese. One woman here in Egypt specifically thought I was Chinese and wanted to practice speaking with me. When she found out I was traveling through she pressed me to take her phone number right there, on the platform of the metro station, and told me to call her if I had any problems, or anything while in Cairo, or if I wanted to spend time with an Egyptian family, or anything.

Well, that's that for the ethnicity, nationality thing. I do think that regular ol' white, Caucasian Americans would have a hellish time traveling through Africa/the Middle East right now. It's bad enough for me, until they learn about my ethnicity, but often they do not ask after finding out where I'm from.

Thanks Mom and Dad.

Quick wrap-up of Morocco

so I can get on with Egypt (where I'm at, at the moment!).

Geez, now I'm so used to the azerty keyboards that being back on a qwerty is screwing with me. Normally I just turn a switch on or off and my figers adjust, here's hoping.

Okay, so, Monday I decided to head to Temara Plage which is about 15 km south of Rabat city. A bus and a taxi ride away, this Irish lady and I end up at the beach. After much hustling and hussling about (those two always seem to come together here), we finally get a spot on the beach. I silently cuss the lady out a few times because she is so picky and neurotic...frankly, I don't want to sit on a deserted beach and go swimming in an empty area--not only am I traveling to get a feel for the people and the area, but I also don't want to drown out of sight. Luckily, the place, though dangerous as I previously warned her (I could spot the dangerous rip-tide signs even before the tide started rising...), had its full share of lifeguards (or "masters of the ocean" as they're called here). These odd "lifeguards" didn't do much bust blast their whistles nonstop while looking at different people and waving their arms around. In fact, I once got swept up in quite a wave after watching one guy motioning, and he barely blinked an eye. Comforting.

Anyway, on trying to settle ourselves down, this one guy Nabil tried selling us a parasol with his friend. When we kindly turned him down, he continued following us and just chatting. I politely responded, and the guy seemed harmful enough. He talked a bit about his family, etc...and I didn't really get any danger signs from him. He seemed to want to just chat, swim and play racketball later. He knew I had no money on me, that I was leaving for Egypt the next day (which he continuously had to be reminded of, I think he thought it was a lame excuse), and that I had already consigned my soul to poverty in the States as a journalist (though he had to be reminded of that as well--"you'll be rich when you start working...in America, right? Lots of money..."). Okay, so there were warning signs when he started talking about "I love you" in Arabic, saying he would never forget me, that I was renting out a piece of his heart forever...(made me wonder about the usage).

So, while Anne, the Irish lady amusedly enjoyed the unfolding saga I had set for myself...I had nary a moment to relax. All I wanted to do was read my book (I'm reading "Atonement" and find it to be marvelous). Anyway, I did get a free donut and bathroom visit out of it...

Then, of course, Ibrahim decided to give me a call. He knew I was going to be in Temara Plage, and I'd told him if he wanted to visit he could, but I couldn't go to Kenitra. After almost two hours of him calling my cell from a payphone, the two guys talking to each other on my cell--Nabil trying to "give directions"--or tell the guy off--and then Ibrahim finally telling me where I could find him, we walked off to go get him. The other guy made it clear he was "doing this for me...only me"...

Well, we found Ibrahim finally, and he was a little upset and confused, but still his kindly self. The two guys got to talking and arguing again about Nabil's crappy directions...and then they made up and Nabil apologized profusedly. Ibrahim though was slightly disturbed...apparently he'd left two books on the beach with someone to watch while he dashed around trying to find and call me. The two books? The Oxford English Dictionary and "The Alchemist" that I had given him. Well, Ibrahim got back his OED, but someone had pilfered the book I gave him. I was outraged, Nabil was upset as well as amused at my outrage, Ibrahim was very sad...

When we got back to Anne on the beach I had had enough of the drama and went for a swim. Nabil joined me shortly afterward, but I ignored him and he eventually left. When I finally came out only Anne and Ibrahim where there. Nabil was gone. Whew.

Ibrahim gave me a small bag as a gift--the very bag I had eyed before leaving Chefchaouen. I was very touched. Not only that, but he'd come directly from Chefchaouen to meet me before I left.

After a more relaxing day at the beach we all took the bus back and Ibrahim said goodbye and caught another bus to go to his family in Kenitra. What a nice guy.