Nearly two weeks after we arrived we've manage to tear ourselves off of the sunsoaked beaches of Dahab, a tiny little oases turned backpackers paradise on the coast of the Red Sea. We spent our days in Dahab doing the only things there are to do in Dahab - loaf, scuba dive, play ping pong and drink cheap beer. It was rough.
After mastering the skill of submerged breathing and adapting fully to our new underwater environment we said goodbye to our Dive School. We said goodbye to the Koshery guy who had fed us (read: Steve) many a cheap and filling meal. We said goodbye to our favorite watering hole after one last 'ice cold Heineken.' We said goodbye to the puppies and kittens we had befriended and to our favorite super smiley restaurant guy. I said goodbye to the guy who tried to molest me whilst I was buying jam and Steve said goodbye to the man who always greeted him as "Canada Dry, never die!" We ate at Dega's one last time, the best little dinner in Dahab with a Fatta that will rock your world. And, after all of that, and after paying our mounting hotel bill, we made a break for Cairo.
A here we are! A city of 17 million, a number my brain can't comprehend. It's loud, it's dusty, it's chaotic and in it's own crazy Cairo way, it's fantastic!
When you get past the noise pollution, the garbage, the cat calls, roaming hands, invasive stares, and people trying to rip you off... you find a really genuine city filled with really genuinely nice people willing to help you out and show you their part of Cairo. After an afternoon of back-alley backgammon with a tour guide who didn't want our money but was happy to help us out, we were guests of honor at an Egyptian wedding where we weren't allowed to sit on the sidelines for very long before Steve and I were pulled to our respective girl/guy dance circles and shown a few new moves (which we very badly pulled off).
For those of you keeping track, Cairo is the end of the line for Steve and Brittles. In a few days time Steve leaves for Kenyaaaaaa and I... don't know yet.
To be continued.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
A few stories to add some colour...
hi everyone. Steve here. So far, you've heard a lot about how difficult or "rough" things have been. And I'd be lying if I said that wasn't the case some of the time. But as I'm sure you can imagine, there have also been some really genuine moments of pure fun, awe, humanity and kindness along the way... and my intention is to share a few of those with you right here, right now. Sorry there aren't a lot of pics to show just yet!
Crazy man at the bus station from Damascus to Amman
We were a day late getting out of Damascus because of our Egyptian visas' processing time and also arrived at the bus station after the last bus had left. Our only other option besides waiting till the next morning was to take a service taxi (not that expensive if you have a full car... which we did). From the point that we got out of the cab at the entrance to the point where we sped off in our Toyota, this crazy old man with one leg didn't leave us alone. He spoke english... however persisted in peppering his sentences with the f-word and telling vulgar jokes. Usually when someone starts asking "where you going?", "do you know where you're going?" and that type of thing - they're looking for a tip. Surprisingly enough, and as poor as this guy looked, he gave us advice and kept other hustlers away from us without ever asking for money. Moreover, when Britt offered him 25 syrian pounds (roughly 50 cents Canadian) he politely refused. I honestly just thought he was interested in talking to other english-speakers... and maybe to tell his dirty jokes to someone who could understand him...
Walking the Stations of the Cross with Franciscan Friars
After getting through the Jordanian-Israeli border (no problems even with Syrian passsport stamps in plain view!), we arrived in Jerusalem. It was Friday. And it was raining. But that didn't stop britt and me from getting our via dolorosa on with a big group of pilgrims headed by Franciscan friars. It was pretty wild to walk the way of the cross up to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher - where Catholic (and other denominations') tradition holds Jesus was crucified, buried and resurrected. I have now given penance at both this holy place as well as at Jesus' birthplace in Bethlehem. These are two of the holiest sites of the pilgrimage many Christians can only hope to complete at some point during their lifetimes...
Eating too much...
Back in Amman (a few days later), we reunited with our big bags and set out to find falafel. Not only did we find that delicious Middle-Eastern delicacy but also a family-run, hole in the wall, back-alley restaurant that served me 3 bowls of soup, 1 plate of chicken and rice, pita, hummus, fresh vegetables and Yomama's (taste like wagon wheels). The owner was so happy to hear we were Canadian he offered us (read: me... that's right, I ate all of that on top of a falafel wrap and second dish of hummus) the fare at no charge. He also offered to help us however he could should we ever need it - super nice guy.
Dead Sea Swim
Swimming in the dead sea is like trying to force a buoy underwater - it just keeps on slipping to the side so that it stays on the surface. Many people have to pay at least 15 JD to find this out (roughly 25 CDN)... we paid a short walk off the highway. Britt paid an uncomfortable 30 - 45 mins of many, many Jordanian dudes staring at her. Nevertheless, these dudes were kind enough to show us how to use the natural springs flowing down to the sea (you have to wash the salt off somehow!). Thoroughly enjoyed by all!
Drive to Petra
Without a doubt a highlight of our trip through Jordan; driving our crappy, beat up Chevy optra through barren desert with nothing but a blue sky and well-paved highway in front of us with mountains in the distance... absolutely breath-taking.
So there's a few for you. Of course, these are only a sliver of the experiences we've had so far. We keep each other entertained during the hard times by pipping up, "hey - do you remember the time you/we..." and just smile at one another. Oh yeah one more! Britt is currently worth 5 camels based on an open offer from a Bedouin man hawking jewelry at Petra.... If Britt hadn't been too near, perhaps we would have had tea and come to some arrangement... :)
And here are a few pics of the lady herself!
Crazy man at the bus station from Damascus to Amman
We were a day late getting out of Damascus because of our Egyptian visas' processing time and also arrived at the bus station after the last bus had left. Our only other option besides waiting till the next morning was to take a service taxi (not that expensive if you have a full car... which we did). From the point that we got out of the cab at the entrance to the point where we sped off in our Toyota, this crazy old man with one leg didn't leave us alone. He spoke english... however persisted in peppering his sentences with the f-word and telling vulgar jokes. Usually when someone starts asking "where you going?", "do you know where you're going?" and that type of thing - they're looking for a tip. Surprisingly enough, and as poor as this guy looked, he gave us advice and kept other hustlers away from us without ever asking for money. Moreover, when Britt offered him 25 syrian pounds (roughly 50 cents Canadian) he politely refused. I honestly just thought he was interested in talking to other english-speakers... and maybe to tell his dirty jokes to someone who could understand him...
Walking the Stations of the Cross with Franciscan Friars
After getting through the Jordanian-Israeli border (no problems even with Syrian passsport stamps in plain view!), we arrived in Jerusalem. It was Friday. And it was raining. But that didn't stop britt and me from getting our via dolorosa on with a big group of pilgrims headed by Franciscan friars. It was pretty wild to walk the way of the cross up to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher - where Catholic (and other denominations') tradition holds Jesus was crucified, buried and resurrected. I have now given penance at both this holy place as well as at Jesus' birthplace in Bethlehem. These are two of the holiest sites of the pilgrimage many Christians can only hope to complete at some point during their lifetimes...
Eating too much...
Back in Amman (a few days later), we reunited with our big bags and set out to find falafel. Not only did we find that delicious Middle-Eastern delicacy but also a family-run, hole in the wall, back-alley restaurant that served me 3 bowls of soup, 1 plate of chicken and rice, pita, hummus, fresh vegetables and Yomama's (taste like wagon wheels). The owner was so happy to hear we were Canadian he offered us (read: me... that's right, I ate all of that on top of a falafel wrap and second dish of hummus) the fare at no charge. He also offered to help us however he could should we ever need it - super nice guy.
Dead Sea Swim
Swimming in the dead sea is like trying to force a buoy underwater - it just keeps on slipping to the side so that it stays on the surface. Many people have to pay at least 15 JD to find this out (roughly 25 CDN)... we paid a short walk off the highway. Britt paid an uncomfortable 30 - 45 mins of many, many Jordanian dudes staring at her. Nevertheless, these dudes were kind enough to show us how to use the natural springs flowing down to the sea (you have to wash the salt off somehow!). Thoroughly enjoyed by all!
Drive to Petra
Without a doubt a highlight of our trip through Jordan; driving our crappy, beat up Chevy optra through barren desert with nothing but a blue sky and well-paved highway in front of us with mountains in the distance... absolutely breath-taking.
So there's a few for you. Of course, these are only a sliver of the experiences we've had so far. We keep each other entertained during the hard times by pipping up, "hey - do you remember the time you/we..." and just smile at one another. Oh yeah one more! Britt is currently worth 5 camels based on an open offer from a Bedouin man hawking jewelry at Petra.... If Britt hadn't been too near, perhaps we would have had tea and come to some arrangement... :)
And here are a few pics of the lady herself!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
East meets West
Head scarves, compulsive staring, computers that read right to left (اسم المستخدم (البريد الإلكتروني (translation = username!!!), enough hummus and pita to puke, walking the bible, snow, rain, deserts, dirty dirty washrooms, mimicking beach-balls in the Dead Ses, camels, donkeys, goats and a lot of dudes. This description adequately describes my life for the past week or two.
I just have a few things to say:
1. I can see you staring at me. Please stop.
2. Where are all of the women? You can come out. It's safe. I promise.
3. The dead sea is excessively buoyant ...and salty.
4. I still need to ride a camel.
5. Donkeys are cool.
6. For the love of God! No more hummus, please!
We've rented a car and are driving through Jordan. It's finally warm enough to wear sandals and leave our jackets inside. Steve and I are pretty happy about that.
Today we drove through some extreme dessert terrain and had a picnic of hummus and pita (whatelse?) on top of a sand castle (it was really just a hill).
Tomorrow we will play Indiana Jones and explore Petra and then we're heading South, once again, towards Aqaba. Then it's a short ferry ride (I'm already excited for the opportunity to say "I'm on a boat!" again and I will probably break into song) to Egypt and we're once again in a country where we can afford to eat, sleep and drink like normal travelers.
For the record Israel and Jordan have been incredibly expensive and to compensate we've been feasting exclusively on pita and hummus and sleeping in the cheapest (read, dirtiest) accommodations. Don't believe me? I payed $17 to sleep in a dorm room with no heat, dirty bedding, seven guys and a cat.
(p.s. I peed in the dead sea)
I just have a few things to say:
1. I can see you staring at me. Please stop.
2. Where are all of the women? You can come out. It's safe. I promise.
3. The dead sea is excessively buoyant ...and salty.
4. I still need to ride a camel.
5. Donkeys are cool.
6. For the love of God! No more hummus, please!
We've rented a car and are driving through Jordan. It's finally warm enough to wear sandals and leave our jackets inside. Steve and I are pretty happy about that.
Today we drove through some extreme dessert terrain and had a picnic of hummus and pita (whatelse?) on top of a sand castle (it was really just a hill).
Tomorrow we will play Indiana Jones and explore Petra and then we're heading South, once again, towards Aqaba. Then it's a short ferry ride (I'm already excited for the opportunity to say "I'm on a boat!" again and I will probably break into song) to Egypt and we're once again in a country where we can afford to eat, sleep and drink like normal travelers.
For the record Israel and Jordan have been incredibly expensive and to compensate we've been feasting exclusively on pita and hummus and sleeping in the cheapest (read, dirtiest) accommodations. Don't believe me? I payed $17 to sleep in a dorm room with no heat, dirty bedding, seven guys and a cat.
(p.s. I peed in the dead sea)
Friday, February 5, 2010
one hundred
Once upon a time I had a warm bed to sleep in and a clean shower with ample hot water. I also had a wardrobe that included pants, shirts, dresses, shorts, jackets, sweaters, scarves, shoes, socks, and underwear all in a variety of colours, patterns, and sizes. I had easy access to all of the the products that a girl likes to use on a daily basis to maintain an acceptable level of personal hygiene. And, once upon a time, I was bursting with excitement, energy and enthusiasm to meet new people, see new things, and explore the world!!!
And then I stepped on a plane.
Today is day one hundred. My head hurts, I can only faintly remember ever having the ability to breathe through my left nostril, I haven't had a hot shower in a week, I don't remember the last time I met a heater that worked, all of my clothes have holes in them, I've worn the exact same thing for three days straight and everything I own smells like second hand smoke. I'm sick, I'm tired, I want to come home.
In reality things aren't that bad, I am in the holy land after all. But, a string of colds, flues, bugs, and other sucky things have left me feeling anything but wonderful for the past few weeks. Add to that equation the disgusting weather we've had lately and I'm pretty sure you can cut me a bit of slack for being a whiny compliney jerkface.
Things aren't exactly what my pre-travel, Lonely Planet induced dreams had imagined "way-back-when". I don't frolic in the ocean on a daily basis, drink beers and nap in the shade of ancient roman ruins or run carefree through mountain meadows while children sing merrily and birds chirp. Quite the opposite. But, one hundred days ago I had an empty passport, couldn't point to Syria on a map and didn't fully comprehend the "developing" part of the term "developing world" (I'm still not sure that I do, but each day I get a better idea of it).
I don't dream about a beach anymore, I dream of a clean hot shower... and that's something I might actually be able to get... one day.
And then I stepped on a plane.
Today is day one hundred. My head hurts, I can only faintly remember ever having the ability to breathe through my left nostril, I haven't had a hot shower in a week, I don't remember the last time I met a heater that worked, all of my clothes have holes in them, I've worn the exact same thing for three days straight and everything I own smells like second hand smoke. I'm sick, I'm tired, I want to come home.
In reality things aren't that bad, I am in the holy land after all. But, a string of colds, flues, bugs, and other sucky things have left me feeling anything but wonderful for the past few weeks. Add to that equation the disgusting weather we've had lately and I'm pretty sure you can cut me a bit of slack for being a whiny compliney jerkface.
Things aren't exactly what my pre-travel, Lonely Planet induced dreams had imagined "way-back-when". I don't frolic in the ocean on a daily basis, drink beers and nap in the shade of ancient roman ruins or run carefree through mountain meadows while children sing merrily and birds chirp. Quite the opposite. But, one hundred days ago I had an empty passport, couldn't point to Syria on a map and didn't fully comprehend the "developing" part of the term "developing world" (I'm still not sure that I do, but each day I get a better idea of it).
I don't dream about a beach anymore, I dream of a clean hot shower... and that's something I might actually be able to get... one day.
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