Spring Break Adventure, April 2014

April launched with Liz's arrival in Beirut, gathered momentum with our visit the reef in Sharm El Sheikh, and reached a crescendo in Cairo at Scheller's wedding reception.  

Liz's first wish? To soak her feet in the salty Mediterranean Sea. 

A week later we flew to Sharm El Sheikh (tip of Sinai Peninsula) for snorkeling and rest:

Snorkeling in the Red Sea was like swimming IN the aquarium!

Next? On to Cairo to meet up with Liz's daughter Scheller, her new Egyptian husband Ahmed, her son Tim, Scheller's long time "friend of honor", Ella, and Mahmoud, Ahmed's best man.  All gathered to celebrate the marriage of Scheller and Ahmed in the town of Fayoum, their new home and Ahmed's childhood home, 1 hour south of Cairo:

Giza:  Hip Hip Hooray!

 Ahmed's sisters and their children and friends, at the Wedding Reception in Fayoum.

We danced to boom box, "Happy" and ate delicious Egyptian foods made by loving hands.

Scheller and Ahmed

 aboard wedding camel in front of the Great Pyramid in Giza!

Wishing ALL Our Best to the Happy Bride and Groom! 

As for Egypt?  Amazing!

My Lebanon II

I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE with my corner of Lebanon.  This area where I live next to the sea, is a 15 minute walk from school, a walk to singing rehearsal, a 5 minute walk to AUB campus, and next to Hamra, the shopping district. It is everything I need.


What is there to love?
The people.
        I am humbled by these kind people, who accept this obviously tall, 61+ year old American woman. This morning was a grand sunrise swim out to the floats and back, capped off with hot cardamon tea prepared over a camp stove on the beach, and a fancy boxed birthday cake topped with sparklers.                   Ingrid and I have been accepted by a swim club; a group of men who have been meeting every morning, going on 20 years.  The group is made of swimmers of all ages; from easy old timers, to young and fast. We swim "sans Baleche", French for "without cost", and since one pays to swim at most beaches, Sans Baleche is OUR beach.
         There's something about swimmers... They are the best!  Once out in the water, I look up seeing white foam kicking up all around, like being in a pack of dolphins....  It is joyful being part of the pod, heading for the floats. The first ones to arrive wait for the later ones, then all are off to the next marker. We reach the floats about 500 meters off shore, and pause to look back at a miniature Beirut... so beautiful. Then it's time to strike a new course back towards the city, angling toward the tall green rooftop on the campus of "I.C." or International College.  I must clarify, by this time, the main pod is far ahead. Ali, the protector, stays back with Ingrid and me, keeping an eye on us.  He is a good man, and a strong swimmer.
         It's amusing to watch the men tease and jostle with one another, in and out of the water. "Is your birthday next week?" I am asked playfully.  We celebrated Fadi's birthday last week, and now George's this week.  The cakes are fashionable by ANY standard; decorated with glazed fruit, whipped cream ribbons, sprinkles, with an edible chocolaty Happy Birthday card on top.  It's obvious that these men love to celebrate!  And they do so with class.  "Sure!" I answer, but then admit my birthday was last February.  "Then we must celebrate it next week!" they cheer.  I can only laugh at these antics.  The teasing doesn't stop!
         Ali walks me back along the Corniche.  He crosses the road with me, ever the protector.  I struggle to find words to say in Arabic.  Finally I sputter, "Shokrun Ali!  B'heb ispar wa inta." (Thank you Ali! I like swimming with you.)  His answers with a smile, lousy Arabic aside.  There is a long pause while I search for words to say. But he is first, something about heading to the sea wall (Sansour), and a laugh.  The guys were teasing him about swimming to the seawall; a long LONG swim that we didn't do.  I couldn't follow the whole train of conversation, but each time it was repeated there was great laughter. Ali was laughing too. Ingrid and I were left scratching our heads.... Think I'll let that one slide.

Thus begins a another wonderful Saturday in Beirut.

My Lebanon

This morning I was up to meet Ali for a swim in the salty water.

We meet on the Corniche at 7 am, at the tall antenna, our getting in place.  The water temp is 18, about 64 degrees F, and it feels screamin' COLD.  Swimming is the only way to warm up. By the time we are heading back to the AUB antenna, my hands feel hard as wooden paddles, and I'm just pulling for all I'm worth.  But I LOVE it: seeing the white sand, rocks, fish and deep blue all around.  It is a swim  of wonders.  Ali saw a jellyfish!  I didn't see that, but need to keep my eyes on the look out.  There are motor boats and occasional jet skis, and until today, I thought these were all I had to avoid.  We swim in groups and wear brightly colored swim caps.  Some people wear big floats tied to their waists.  But the important thing is to swim together.

All was well this morning until I realized I was an hour early... it was just going on 6 am. The sun was up, however, so I decided to warm up with a walk.  On the way  back, I stopped to take pictures of the silly men and their antics.  These guys were jumping off a rock, making a great show of shouting (in Arabic), and counting on one another.  Here are those pics:

Young Abdallah with his uncle, grandmother, and daughter-mother

While watching the men being boys, I noticed this adorable child, and asked his mother if I could take his picture.  She said it was ok.  We began to talk; she in her lovely English.  Her mother-in-law, younger than me, spoke in Arabic... from which I could pick out some words, namely, 4 sons! By the time my swimmer friend Ali arrived, I was taking pictures and turning down an invitation to their house; Time to swim!  

Abdallah

These men, a Swimming-Running Club, meet and swim every day at 7 am.  They bring their campstove to prepare the hot tea, and carry in brownies and yummies to eat before and after the swim.  While Ali and I swim along the shore, to the marina wall and back, these guys swim straight out into the sea 750 meters, then back. As swimmer Ibrahim explained, "Beirut looks like this (he holds up his hand; no wider than his hand, all compacted), and this (the antenna) appears to be only so tall (he holds up his pointer finger).  I love seeing the city in miniature; it is my favorite swim, and we're out and back in less than 30 min."  The 30 minutes is important  because the water is cold (18 degrees C = 64 F), and before you arrive back, your hands feel stiff.  The sweet, hot tea is just right to begin the warming up process.  For some reason, these men accept me. They must wonder what I'm doing there, but they give me tea and brownies, and don't ask me anything. When I took their picture today, I could hear the unspoken questions: what's this woman doing here?

Well there is only one answer:  SWIMMING TO FEED MY SOUL!

Ali, second from left, with hot tea pot, brownies, among his friends; awesome swimmers all.

Ali speaks very little English.  The first time he met me was in the sea, struggling with waves to get out onto the rocks. This was last year.  I was swimming with Ingrid and Phil, friends from ACS.  From that day on, Ali, often near, would swim with us.  What was fun was that he would swim fast, and I would enjoy trying to keep up with him. Phil, Ingrid and I stopped swimming back in November as the storms came in and then the water temp cooled. It seemed appropriate to stop.  Well, not for these swimmers.  They swim all year round.

So I was on my way to school a few weeks ago and I heard, "Carolyn, Carolyn!"  Ali was running over!  "Do you want to swim?"  he asked.  Of course!  He invited me to join him and his friends.  And so for the past several Saturdays I have met up with Ali at the big antenna and defied my own shyness at being the only woman; climbed down the ladder from the Corniche, walked self-consciously over to the concrete slab, taken off my sweatpants and sweatshirt, and walked over to the water's edge.  I sit, with feet dangling, then up to hips, then up to waist while splashing upper arms, then in.  The entry is a screamer! 

I have loved every minute of swimming and being with these other swimmers. It is amazing. At any other time in my life I could not have been so bold. Thank God for Ali, giving me courage.  Is ANYONE luckier than I am? I am happy out there in that bracing water, and on the rocks sipping the sweet hot tea. In these moments my joy is complete.

Italy #2: Rome

Hate to cry when it's time to leave? 

Then stay away from Rome!

Trevi Fountain and my wish? Return trip!

Margaret and I; happy travelers!

I loved Rome.

Irony here were the warnings: You'll be lucky if you still have your purse 30 minutes after you get here... 

My friend lost her money belt in Venice.... 

My cousin's husband lost his wallet 15 minutes after he got off the train... 

and on and on the stories go.

When I realized I still had my purse and had been in Rome for over an hour, I gave a silent cheer!  

The truth is, if you are aware, and careful, there is nothing to fear.  

Rome is a treasure chest; surprises around every corner.  

I was disgusted as much as amazed with the coliseum, awed by the Vatican, humbled in the presence of Michelangelo, and thrilled with my visit to the Borghese Museum and Gallery.

Avoiding INERTIA!

After I accepted the new job, my resignation letter to Dr. Jo and South Whidbey practically wrote itself. I'd been agonizing over this decision these past months. I'd figured that one or two years overseas would be a long time, but it flashed by.  For me, going "home" means settling in somewhere, and that's scary too!  Going forward seems no more difficult now that I am here.

Once on a roll it is easier to keep rolling!  

Am I fearless? NO WAY!  I have many fears. But facing them is the thing. This is my challenge. There is so much to see and discover!  and I have so much to learn. I think of it as gathering stories for my 80th birthday party; an idea that came from Steven Covey.

Thank you Paula, for sending this my way!

Birthday in Jordan

First view of the "Rose City" of Petra

February 13, 2014                                                            
A good way to get older? 
                                                           
Go where everything is older 
than you are! 

So Margaret went with me on a weekend trip to Jordan.  We flew into Amman, then rented a car and drove to the ancient city of Petra (2400 years to my 61... it worked!).

There we met, Ahmed, history guide and Bedouin, who took us on our winding way through a tall narrow canyon, walls 100 meters high.  Such a beautiful walk, heading steadily downhill.  Suddenly, in front of us we saw a flash of pink, and then the sight of a rose pink building, opening up before us!  It was the treasury building of Petra, carved into a canyon wall running perpendicular to our own walkway. What an incredible approach to this place.  (Sequel to "Raiders of the Lost Ark" was filmed here!) Petra was built by the Nabateans in 400 BC. They became rich at the crossroads between east-west, north-south, gathering taxes from all the camel caravans that passed through their lands.  It was the Romans who undermined them in 106 AD, by cutting off their water supply. It seems obvious now, but the only reason the Nabateans could live in Petra is because they could pipe in water from nearby springs. Block the pipes and it didn't take long for surrender. However, the Romans were most hospitable: Nabateans could choose to stay and become good Romans, or leave.
For us, this day, it was the horse drawn carriages we had to watch out for; literally running visitors up and down through the narrow canyon.  Margaret made the mistake of telling a camel driver his camel was pretty.  From that moment on it was Margaret, Ahmed, me, a camel driver, two camels, a hopeful burro driver and his burro... walking through Petra.  Every time we stopped to take a picture, they were sure we would change our minds and decide to ride.  We managed to walk the entire way and back, much to their dismay, and much to our annoyance.

Carolyn and Margaret at the foot of the rose Treasury, Petra's icon

Rocky tombs and homes of Petra

From Petra, we drove to Wadi Rum, the desert, beloved of the Bedouin people.  We met up with our travel guide, Mzied, a dashing Bedouin man, who loaded us into his 4-wheel Toyota truck for a tour of the area, complete with overnight tent and sleeping bags, meals, and deliciously sweet hot tea. 

The land was stunning; colorful red sands, rocky outcrops, rocks dripping like melting candles, arches, and ancient Talmudic writings. We fell in love with the place.  It reminded me of other beautiful deserts I have known: Death Valley, and Joshua Tree National forest.  Wadi Rum is where Peter O'Toole and Omar Shariff were filmed in "Lawrence of Arabia", unforgettable for the 9-year-old that I was.  Dad and Mom took us to see the movie at the drive in, sure we would all fall asleep in the back seat.  But No! I was wide-eyed awake ALL 3 HOURS; completely captivated by the sand, sun, music, and Peter O'Toole.  This was my first look into the world of the sheikh!  I've been fascinated with flowing head scarves ever since.

We spent the night in Wadi Rum, in a small 2-person tent, that proved itself waterproof as the long overdue rain came down. The next morning we were awakened by a warm crackly fire in the main tent, including hot tea, and a delicious breakfast of pita and labneh (like a Greek yogurt), with honey and fruit, and cuddly Saalem.

Wadi Rum

Guide Mzied telling stories after dinner

Carolyn with Saalem, imagining life as a Bedouin woman...

Arches for climbing up!

Red sand dunes for running down!

Talmudic rock carvings from God Knows how long ago: camel caravan!

That morning, Mzied scooted us across the valley, 3 miles away, to see the early start of the Safari Race, 2014.  It turns out that Margaret's nephew was there! What was startling was to see their encampment in Wadi Rum! They had intended to run in the Sahara of Egypt, but with all the political turmoil, the venue had to be changed. To our delight, and Margaret's surprise, it was changed to Wadi Rum!  Here is a picture of Margaret and John the night before the race. He was about to run for 7 consecutive days, each the equivalent of a marathon, in which he would carry ALL his food and gear (even sleeping bag), except water. This ordeal takes place in a desert, once a year, and runners from the world over gather to give it a go. John ran last year in the Gobi Desert. This guy loves a challenge!

Margaret and her nephew John.
We met John last November, running in the Beirut marathon.

...and they're off!

...into the desert morning mist...

What a weekend!  It was the best.

Italy #1: Pompeii, December 28, 2013

Margaret, restaurant Proprietor, and I, about to visit excavated Pompeii

Italy! made me feel at home. Mt. Vesuvius - Mt. St. Helens... Margaret and I met in Naples, then got real familiar with Trenitalia, both to go to downtown Naples, and then to reach Pompeii and Herculaneum.  Here are some pics of Pompeii; a sprawling Roman city. It was amazing to explore this labyrinth of roads, arches, buildings; all excavated from under 6 meters of ash and debris, following the fatal eruption of Mt. Vesuvius back in 79 AD.

Inside Pompeii

Mt Vesuvius; just 5 miles away

The Forum; or central meeting place of Pompeii

Interesting to note that this city, Pompeii, was covered in marble and smooth stones that were pried away and taken to adorn the great homes and buildings in Naples.  What was left behind is the Roman bricks.  Pompeii was a beautiful Roman town in its day.

Notice the tracks of chariots on the road! Margaret standing on a pedestrian crossing stone.