"We've got fun on our side"

There are certain moments that just make all of this bullshit worth it. Certain experiences that make me realize that this is EXACTLY what I came to Europe to do this MBA for. This weekend was one of those - and it was amazing in its spontaneous, unpredictable, randomly perfectness.

This weekend was a 5 day weekend in Spain - Monday was something about Maria Immaculada and Wednesday is some Spanish national holiday - can't be bothered to care, all I need to know is that we don't have school. I also can't be bothered to write out the details, but I need to make sure to capture the highlights:

Friday: Karaoke at a Chinese Restaurant

Saturday: Leave on an impromptu road trip with team mates and friends. First stop: Zaragoza

Final Destination: Getxo (Outside Bilbao) where we had our first experience with "REAL" pinxos (little sandwich sized amazing bites of goodness of all kinds of varities, combining meats, cheese, sea foods, and sauces)

Sunday: A lil bit of Bilbao:

San Sebastian:

Here we partied with the locals of Bilbao and San Sebastian as they got ready for the big futbol match between the two cities. The game started at 9, so the town started drinking around 2, with songs and drum beatings echoing up and down the streets. By midnight, we were wading through puddles of rain water, beer, and trash as, not caring if they won or lost, the Basque people continued celebrating.






To recover from the night of debauchery, Monday involved some hiking in Bermeo:

And a visit to the painted forest:

On the 6 hour drive back home to BCN, we stopped at Logrono for some of the best pinxos I've ever had in my life.

We stayed at German's parents house, which was basically a 5 star hotel. The drive home involved my driving stick for the first time in ten years, followed by wine and other entertainment in the backseat. Overall, I don't think you could ask for a better weekend.

Thankful

Thanksgiving away from home is bittersweet (for lack of a better word).

On the one hand, Thanksgiving is the only holiday my family really celebrates as a holiday - the only holiday that, almost without fail, everyone makes an effort to appear for, everyone sets aside. Plus, just being away from the spirit of home for this weekend creates nostalgia. That feeling of everyone coming back and facing themselves just as they are - even if in their "new" lives they're hot shot attorneys, mountain climbers, broadway stars, or medical students. For one weekend, its like things are they way they always were, and that feeling you got your first year in college, that safety of realizing that home hasn't changed, and that every Thanksgiving, its there for you to count on, year in and year out. And to go a year without that feeling is a little unnerving. I'm so far away from everything familiar, everything safe and reassuring...

...but now, I'm creating my own traditions. IESE threw us a "Thanksgiving" but, apart from one tasty turkey, was more an excuse to raise money for charity than to transmit a real feeling of Thanksgiving, at least for the Americans. Don't get me wrong, the charity was a great idea and lots of fun, but it didn't feel like Thanksgiving at all.

 What did feel like Thanksgiving, though, was the potluck dinner Alexa and I threw at our apartment. Her brother and sister came to visit from Boston. They brought along some essential supplies, like stuffing and an inflatable turkey.

The real thing, though, was a little harder (and more expensive) to get, but apparently a gourmet butcher shop will deliver anything for the right price. We picked up two massive turkey and were lucky enough to have a man's man from America's heartland carve it up for us:

We invited most of our American friends, and some other nationalities to mix it up, and ended up having quite an amazing spread:

 Nothing makes me happier than feeding people, and everyone said our Thanksgiving was waaay better than IESE's. The food was amazing and everyone was happy to "celebrate freedom" by stuffing their faces with sweet potato pie and mass quantities of turkey:

Is still Mo'vember, so most of the men are continuing to adorn each picture while "Changing the face of men's health" with their mustaches, for which I too am oh, so grateful.

Cooking too many dishes at once

That's what IESE feels like right now. I have 5 burners on a stove, and a pot or pan on every burner. And if you don't stir each dish regularly enough, its gonna burn. And I only have the option of one burnt dish.

Its funny that I'm finding time to write this on one of my busiest nights. The stress is just too overwhelming to not come up for air. Its not that I'm working 24/7, but its that working more than I am just isn't productive or sustainable. Everyone who's not going through this process is telling me about this and that "short cut" that I should be able to take, but its not about that either. Its not about the grades on the page, its about earning those grades. Sure, all I want to do is pass all my classes so that I don't get kicked out. But I want to actually EARN passing grades in all my classes, so I feel like I'm surviving and learning and obtaining from this MBA what I am meant to, what I came here for. If I don't earn my grades, than I'm not getting what I paid money for, I'm not getting the experience of surviving and coming out the other end stronger or wiser.

Its just that, too often, I feel like I don't have what it takes to survive...

Living the dream

As I was riding my bike home last night from my accounting study session, it really hit me that I was living out my dream of sorts. Here I am, in an amazing, vibrant, culturally rich European city. A metropolitan hub, like I've always wanted - and I'm riding my bike through it at 1am, and still actually feel safe. I felt accomplished, as after spending 3 hours working with a Canadian guy, a Polish guy, and a Japanese girl, I felt like the "grape juice of accounting" had started the "fermentation process" in my brain for the first time in the two weeks that I've been struggling with it. My short bike ride would take me home to my amazing 4th floor apartment where I would gossip with my roommates for a while before going to bed. We'd bitch about having to wake up merely 5 hours later, but I think its all absolutely fantastic.

I have a purpose, and I'm moving forward, even though I'm not entirely sure of the direction. I am completely and utterly overwhelmed in school. Our schedules are insane, and I am lost in at least half of my classes.

Doing 2-3 cases every day and thinking in terms I've never thought in before is really hard, and I feel stupid half the time, but its also incredible. I finally feel my brain WORKING and I'm confronted, even ACCOSTED, by something new every day. My understanding of the world is expanding in a way I can't quite quantify or identify yet, but I can absolutely feel it happening. Things are making sense and falling into place, slowly of course, but I find it all very exciting.

I'm sure if I re-read this in 6 weeks or so when I'm beyond stressed out and all the novelty has worn off I'll roll my eyes at my naivete, but that's precisely why I'm writing - to capture this feeling of "OMG this is IT, THIS is why I dropped my life and came here."

My life here right now really is everything I've always wanted. Barcelona is amazing. School is great. Though I haven't tapped all or really any of them yet, I know I will have great opportunities, if I get my ass in gear and start working towards them, so I know I'm not just here on a prolonged vacation (despite the constant and rambunctious partying, I do remember that I am here for more than that). My roomates are fantastic, and we're having a great time together:

Everyone, well almost everyone, I meet at school is really interesting. The majority of them are really smart, and it feels great to be surrounded by people that actually challenge and interest me. Don't get me wrong, there's the fair share of idiots and annoying douchebags, as you'll find everywhere, but, unlike in other places, I'm not forced to hang out with them for prolonged periods. I actually have the option of surrounding myself with people I genuinely like and, so far, they actually seem to like me to!!! (Hope that lasts!)

Not to say that life is absolutely perfect. Of course its not. School is overwhelming, and despite how much I'm learning, I'm stressed that I wont get passing grades. I'm gaining weight at an alarming rate - bocadillos de jamon con queso will do that you, and even if I wanted to cook healthy, PAM (or any other form of cooking spray) doesn't exist in this country. About the only Spanish I speak is when I'm ordering the food that is making me fat. Despite the large number (20%) of Spanish speaking students in our class, I don't speak Spanish to anyone at any point, because the common language is English and they all speak it fluently. Of course they don't want to sit there and wait for me to stumble through my pluscuamperfecto constructions. I have yet to meet my tall dark and handsome Spaniard - or anyone meaningfully tall, dark, and handsome for that matter. I think my French love story is the only one I get in Europe in this lifetime. Luckily though, finally, these things aren't stopping me from enjoying all the other things I've got going for me here.

I thought I'd be more home sick, and maybe, once again, once the routine sets in, I'll get more homesick. Of course I miss my friends, but I feel really good about the friends I've made here - especially Alexa, my blessing of a roommate:

So, after a month of not writing, this is my checking in that life is great. Now, off to finish Capital Markets reading for tomorrow, and crossing my fingers that I can get a copy of the FT before class so that our crazy (but really, brilliant) professor doesn't call on me and humiliate me and kick me out of class - as he is prone to do to people who don't answer adequately. Ohhh IESE - and tomorrow I have a lecture on the Opus Dei nature of our school to look forward to. Woohoo?

First week in Barcelona!

Clearly, I haven't been updating this as often as I would have liked. I had big plans to catch up on the last week in Jordan and my week in Greece, but real life has started and I'm going to have to rely on pictures to remember the amazing times I had. At a time when I'm going to need it the most, my self-discipline is dwindling.

This week has been a busy one, and I haven't taken a single picture of note, so nothing to post in that regard.

It has been eventful though.

Alexa arrived on Tuesday and that afternoon we went to Carrefour and bought appliances, followed by a KFC Dinner! You gotta have the American favorites when overseas just to maintain your sanity and for a little taste of home. Having a microwave, toaster, and a hot water boiler in the apartment now makes all the difference!

Although I joined a gym last Friday, my first attempt to actually go there wasn't until Tuesday. I looked up the schedule, got dressed, packed my stuff, and went downstairs, all excited to ride my bike to the gym. I walk to the bike parking area and discover this:

If you can't quite tell what's wrong with this picture, I remind you that one usually sits on a bike, and the bike, in the state that I found it that afternoon, was missing the seat...I went home and pouted and did NOT go to the gym.

Wednesday was the first day of school, although we were really only there to take the Spanish test. Alexa and I took the bus together, recording a 45 minute door to door round trip. Its not so bad, and as we are the first stop on the line, we do get seats so, in theory, we can be productive on the bus in the mornings. Since then, though, Alexa tested out of Spanish and I've been riding to and from school on the back of Andri's moto. It is about 20 minutes faster, so its worth the ride, but not worth me getting my own.

I finally did go to the gym after the Spanish test, and the experience will take getting used to. Following an aerobics/dance class in Spanish is hard - in theory, you just follow the instructor. But this flamboyantly gay man was so all over the place, keeping up with him was virtually impossible. Everyone speaks only Spanish, and everything in the gym is written in Catalan. I haven't gone again yet, but intend to try the yoga class tomorrow.  On the way back I discovered what are called "chinos", stores owned by Asians, for the most part, that have all kinds of random stuff. In a way its a mini-Target - you have appliances, school supplies, beauty products, some clothing, housewares - but everything is fairly cheap and in a limited selection. This is where I am taking my mom when she gets here next week to buy much needed storage items for my room.

As for the Spanish classes that started on Thursday, I initially placed into Spanish Level 6 (out of 10 possible placement levels). The class was pretty good and with the exception of 1 or 2 people, everyone was on the same level. The teacher, however, was another story. How you can be a teacher of Spanish as a foreign language and fail to explain to a class of intermediate students the difference between the use of "le" and "lo" for direct object pronouns and the difference between "ser" and "estar" is beyond me. We're not the first ones to ask this question - it confuses all students. What kind of teacher are you? She then decided to "change things up" in the afternoon and thought it would be a good idea to split us into two groups and have us discuss the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in Spanish. You don't do that on the first day of class with a group of students that can barely construct temporally complex sentences. The next day of class was even worse, as she decided to teach us "emociones", somehow supposing that, at level 6, we didn't know what "estoy triste" meant.

Luckily though, due in part to our superb level of Spanish and, undoubtedly, in part to the fact that we were a pain in her ass with our specific question, I and 3 other students were taken out of her class and merged into a new level 7 class. The new professor, Carlos, is fantastic. The man was born to teach, and is also doing his PHD in linguistics, which makes his explanations of things really interesting and clear, to me at least. I'm struggling slightly in this class, but I'd rather be the weakest speaker and learning than the strongest speaker and bored. We have a test to pass into level 8 on Tuesday, and we actually had class today (Saturday) due to the fast pace of the program.

Tonight, my flatmates and I are attempting to throw our apartment's first party. It will be small in scale, since we don't want to piss off our neighbors yet. I guess we'll see what happens!

Getting Settled in Barcelona

I've been in town "permanently" for 3 days now. Starr and I came in from Greece on Wednesday morning, thoroughly exhausted and kicking ourselves for not spending more time on the islands, and for being so cheap with our flights home. Starr pretty much looked like she was going to kill someone for the duration of our flights, and I don't think she'll be coming to Europe again any time soon.

Since arriving, I've made some major accomplishments! I finally have a cell phone - a Blackberry, not an iPhone, I decided for the sake of convenience to be " like everyone else" and just get the bbery. I have plenty of time to play with future generations of iPhones. I've never felt the need to be one of those "early adapters".
All of my roommates finally arrived by Wednesday night, and we all went over to Kathy and Stephanie's apartment. It made us realize how NICE ours is, and how invaluable AC is :) True, in a month or so it wont be hot and it wont matter, but right now the heat is suffocating and I've spent every day between 3 and 6pm hiding in my room with the AC blasting.

Starr was leaving Friday, so our night out with the other IESE kids for the first official BOW (Bar of the Week) was a short-lived night. We never actually  made it to the BOW, as our 11-person group took a while to assemble and make our way to the Mexican restaurant where we ended up having dinner at 11pm. Gotta love Barcelona time! (Although Starr did not, and, once again, looked like she was going to suffocate someone any moment, and some male members of our group were differentiating themselves in being the unlucky victims of the potential suffocation)

The next day Andri and I went to check out the local gym, and ended up joining DIR Tarragona for 50 euros a month. The gym is actaully really nice, but 1.6 kilometers away which, in theory, can be considered part of the workout - I just hope I don't become too lazy to actually go there.

In the afternoon we went to IKEA, and now have made progress on making this place of ours a home. The IKEA trip was pretty humorous, with me and Ladina insisting that we "need" this and that for the apartment, and Andri standing in front of the cart, arms-crossed, stern-father like, shaking his head. In the end, like Andri said, it was a good compromise - he wouldn't have bought ANYTHING of what we bough if it were just him, and she and I would have bought 3 times as much. Our foyer now has a cute table, chair, and shoe rack and we have all kinds of kitchen gadgets. We weren't able to find a tea pot, toaster, or microwave, so that'll have to wait for another store. They also don't have any kind of plastic drawer storage. Our bathroom is currently one huge cluttered counter, because there's nowhere to put any of our stuff. The guys at the bicycle store though recommended we go to Carrefour, so hopefully we can get something there!

That brings me to my final accomplishment - I bought a bicycle! Its very strange to me that I have a bike, but now I do!! Every single other person I know is buying or renting a scooter/moded, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I'm terrified of driving it and of navigating on the streets with the crazy taxi drivers. I still don't know how I'm going to get to school, because riding my bike uphill for 3 miles might be outside my strength, patience, and motivation capacity, but at least for getting around to friends' houses, the grocery store, and the gym, I'm covered.

Outstanding issues remain the plastic bins, the appliances, and, of course, getting through the accounting course, the resume building exercise, and the Spanish test, all before Sept 1st!

Following in Moses' Footsteps!

Today, we climbed Mt. Sinai. I pumped myself up for it all day, trying to convince myself that it wouldn’t suck. Originally, we had two options, a sunrise hike and a sunset hike. The sunrise hike initially sounded more appealing, to avoid climbing in the heat, but it apparently involved a 2am pick up time. So, under much peer pressure and resistance on Michael’s part, the whole group was convinced to do the sunset hike. 

We left Cairo at 6am and arrived in the town of St. Katherine’s at 1pm. Our hotel was very nice from the outside, with an enormous swimming pool and views of the mountains. The inside, however, didn’t live up to the external hype, with a  barely functioning toilet, cracked walls, and power that went out at least 4 times while we were there. After a quick rest and lunch, we drove to the monastery at the base of the mountain to begin our climb. Michael informed us that he would absolutely not be climbing with us (“Are you climbing the mountain too, Michae?l” “Sure, not” This is funnier in his Arabic accent and due to the fact that he said the not with as much enthusiasm as he normally says sure), so we met our Bedouin tour guide. He kept assuring us the hike would be slow and easy, but there were definitely parts where I begged to differ. The middle half was by far the hardest, morale wise, but the last 750 steps were the hardest, physical activity wise.

Once on the top though, it was definitely worth it. The views were pretty spectacular, and the amazing night sky full of stars on the way down was unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

 I’ve also never been so absolutely exhausted in my life. I literally fell asleep within moments of hitting the pillow. Of course, I still woke up 3 hours later but apparently that’s my life now!

Mid-Adventure Funk

Today was not a happy day. Everyone was cranky, nothing went as planned, and the energy level in the group is at an all-time low. Originally, Michael told us that he train would be getting into Cairo between 6 and 7 am, so everyone was prepared for an early wake up call around 530 for breakfast and such. Personally, if I know I have to get up early, I’m awake for 2 hours before that, half dozing and checking the clock. Well, breakfast came at 7:30 and the train didn’t get in to Cairo until 9, so everyone was already cranky from being told the wrong information and having an interrupted night of sleep. We then found out that we could not check in to our hotel early. So, from a sweaty, sticky night of sleeping on the train, we went straight to the Citadel.

The Citadel was pretty cool, and the mosque interesting as well. They make all the girls cover up upon entering, but apparently my kosher outfit was totally hallal, too – they just made me wrap a shall over my arms and neck, as opposed to dawning a full-on gown. 

From the Citadel we went to the Hel Hallal (?) market which, from the itinerary, sounds like a traditional souk. False. This is just another tourist market where they sell you endless pyramids, sphinxes, and scarves. A totally unnecessary hour and a half spent in the heat, hot, sweaty, tired, and hungry.

Today also happened to be Karolina’s birthday, and Michael was determined to do something very nice for her. So, the intentions were there as we rushed through our lightning-fast lunch at Hard Rock Café. Karolina was sung to by the whole staff and stood on a chair as the staff and everyone in the restaurant danced to  La Bomba . However, the whole thing was very strange. We were rushed through lunch, only allowed to order one drink, and Karolina barely had time to eat a slice of her birthday cake before we were rushed out and into taxis home. The whole thing made very little sense and we never found out why we were pushed out of there so quickly.

When we got back to the hotel Michael gave us our briefing on our trip to Mt. Sinai the next day, pissing some people off in the process. He can be very nice and helpful, but he can also be quite the moody asshole. He doesn’t like to be questioned and I really think he resents our group’s need to understand his directions. The need wasn’t there before, perhaps, but I’ve started asking many questions and that got the group started. So, I’m on his shit list now.

We spent the rest of the day relaxing at the hotel. At night, we redeemed our funkified day by having one of the best meals of the trip at a restaurant not far from our hotel called Falfalel. 

They served traditional Egyptian food, along with pasta. Only two of us were brave enough to try new things (me included, of course) and everyone else got the pasta. We washed it all down with a couple of beers (HURRAH for restaurants that serve alcohol, they are few and far between in Muslim countries) We headed home early in anticipation of our 5:30am wake up call!

Luxor is not necessarily luxurious

That day and the following were spent in Luxor, which literally translates to “Temples”. There are two major temples in Luxor, the Luxor temple itself and Karnak temple. The temples, as it turns out, are connected by a 3 kilometer long avenue that’s lined with Sphinx statues that archeologists are just now unearthing. So there is a project in Luxor where they are uprooting and demolishing all the buildings and modern city between the two temples and unearthing the underground passage with the Sphinxes. It should be complete in a few years and there will be a direct walkway between the two temples.

After a few hours of recuperation and a highlyunsatisfying lunch of dry falafel from a street vendor, we set off for Karnak temple. For some reason that is still beyond me, our tour guide gave us the option of walking to Karnak temple from our hotel (a 3km walk) or taking a cab, which would be 5 L.E. per person ($1). For reasons that are, once again, beyond me, the group elected to walk in the 100 degree weather. I tried to say something, but, being in the minority, I wasn’t gonna press the issue. By the time we finally made it to the temple, no one really gave a shit anymore about what Michael had to say. We listened, we fanned ourselves, we took some pictures, and we all hurriedly eagerly out of the temple into the air conditioned van that was waiting for us.

Why doesn’t anyone ever listen to me? I think I was also severely dehydrated because I felt like I was going to collapse for most of the afternoon. That night, though, we went out to a very nice dinner not far from our hotel where we once again took pictures of the Nile at sunset and had some delicious Moussaka!

The next day was, once again, an early one as we left the hotel at 7am in order to visit the Valley of the Kings. This series of tombs built into the rocks in the mountains is the grave site for all of the Pharoahs of Egypt, included the major ones like Ramses the II and Tutankhamun. Its pretty impressive how intricate all the artwork is inside the tombs, with the colors still preserved thousands of years later. Unfortunately, I have no pictures as we were not allowed to bring camera inside the site.

After visiting the Valley of the Kings, we were off for our donkey ride. As I’m writing this entry two days later, my legs are still unbelievably sore as they have never been before. I think I was holding on to that donkey with my legs for dear life. They’re very low to the ground, but after a call of “hup hup” from their masters, they go rather fast.  The trotting of the donkeys was nothing like the trotting of the camels, and I think I lost about 10 years of elasticity in my breasts from that 20 minute ride. A heads-up to wear a sports bra would have been helpful.

Our last site for the day (there were two more that we saw from the bus but I couldn’t say what they were because I passed out) was Hatsheput’s temple. She was one of the only real female rulers of Egypt (Cleopatra, apparently, came thousands of years later and was not in the time of the Pharaohs. Also, apparently the term “Casearean section” comes from the fact that during Cleopatra’s romance with Ceasar, she gave birth not in the natural way  - they had to cut his baby out of her and thus, the term was coined). The temple was pretty impressive, especially the fact that she is almost everywhere depicted as a man, because it was the only way she could exude her power as a ruler (Guess things haven’t changed much for women in Egypt in the last 4000 years)

The rest of the day included two meals of junk food, a stroll through the tourist-only souk “Madam, come look, you so beautiful, let me help you spend your money”, and a horse drawn carriage ride from the Luxor temple back to our hotel.

We then boarded our night train back to Cairo. 

Cruisin’ the Nile to Luxor

This was the day I dreaded the most – spending almost 24 hours out in the open air on a sail boat, with sporadic access to a bathroom. Between the heat and the mosquitoes, I was sure I would be completely miserable the entire time. I have to admit that I was very pleasantly surprised by how much I didn’t hate the experience. We had a late start, thank goodness, and boarded our sail boat at noon. We split up into two groups – it was supposed to be the girls on one boat, and the couples and boys on another.

Justice, however, true to his form (which I’ll have to get into in another post because I’m not sure enough words of videos can describe the spectacle that is Justice. A small preview: blond, balding 20 year old German boy permanently decked out in knee-high socks, hiking boots, and a Jack Wolfskin hat and fanny pack) requested to be “on the boat with the German flag”, aka the girls’ boat. The real reason is that he’s in love with Karolina who is 10 years his senior and completely out of his league. I’m not sure he even has a league.


Anyway, we entertained ourselves for the first couple of hours taking pictures all over the sailboat, enjoying the views and the breeze.

At lunchtime, we boarded our “support boat”, which was a two-story motor boat that had two bathrooms, a kitchen, and an eating area. Lunch was a simple dish of macaroni and potatoes. Considering that more than half of us were suffering from some serious stomach problems from the day before, we were grateful for the simple meal. The boats then docked at a shore and we spent the next couple of hours playing in the Nile.

 Then back on the boat again when our Coptic Christian tour guide, Michael, entertained himself by flipping through one of the girl’s magazines and getting altogether too excited at EVERY SINGLE bikini picture he saw. Finally we docked for dinner as the sun was setting and had a nice meal with a lovely view.

After a day of doing nothing, everyone was awfully boisterous and no one (except myself, of course) wanted to go to sleep until close to 2am. Covered in Nile water, sunblock, and bug spray we all climbed into our sleeping bag liners on the felucca and tried to grab a few hours of shut-eye. This was a lot FEWER hours than anyone of us knew because, as the sun rose, the motor boat turned on its engine and our wake-up call was the smell of gasoline and the sound of the motor. Needless to say, I was not the happiest of campers for the rest of the day. 

Ramses & Restrooms

Today started with a 3:30 am wake up call and a 4am pick up to join the convoy to Abu Simbel.  The drive took 4 hours, covering over 300 kilometers of desert and arriving about 40KM from Sudan. Abu Simbel is the site of two temples, built for King Ramses II and his “most popular” wife Nefertari on the banks of Lake Nasser.

Not only were these temples built in 13^th century BC, which makes them unique in that “WOW these are old” way, but they’ve also had an interesting modern history. Because the Egyptian government created a dam to help control the ebbing and flowing of the Nile River, the water started to rise and threatened both the Nubian villages in the area, and the temples themselves. So, in 1960, the temples were taken apart and physically reconstructed on higher ground. With the Nefertari’s temple, you can see where it was cut into pieces for movement, but you can’t tell with Ramses’ temple.

We spent about 2 hours exploring the temples (which was about one hour and forty minutes too long for this adventurer) and by 10am were already on our way back to Aswan, escaping the excruciating 110 degree heat. I passed out for the first hour, but then woke up urgently needing to pee. Michael, our tour guide, had told us the day before that there would be no stops and that the hotel and the site would be our only chance to use the restroom. I sat there suffering for about 40 minutes, but when I saw a sign that said 150KM to Aswan, I realized that if I didn’t pee, I would explode and then ruin the rest of the ride for everyone. So, I woke Michael up, telling him I had a problem and we needed to stop. I didn’t need a bathroom, I had no trouble squatting behind a sand dune or peeing in a cup, but I needed to stop. I guess my timing was pretty good because within 2 km we pulled up to a random shack (which Michael called a ‘coffee shop’) with a smaller shack next to it that was clearly an outhouse of sorts. It was really just a hole in the ground with a bucket next to it but at that point I couldn’t possibly care less. (I was later told that Michael and the bus driver were standing at equal distances between the bathroom and the bus, their arms folded like body guards. Too bad no one took a picture)

When I came out , another bus had pulled up next to us.  “That’s the tourism police,” Michael tells me quietly as we walk back to the bus. “I need to tell him that you are sick and we had to stop, or he will take away my license because it is illegal to stop as part of the convoy. You need to look like you are really sick”. So, I did my best to look miserable – something I’m generally quite good at and the excruciating heat helps. So I stood by the bus, doing my best to look miserable while Michael talked to the police officers. Everything ended up working out fine, but apparently all the tour companies sign a form saying that they will not stop as part of the convoy, and making any stops is illegal. We also happened to be the 2^nd to last vehicle in the convoy, so the bus behind us had to stop and wait for us to get back on the road. We’re still trying to figure out why it is that they’re making it impossible for a bunch of western tourists to stop even once in a 300km stretch of desert. There’s so much opportunity for profit there! They could charge $10 for a bottle of water and $5 to use the restroom!

We had lunch at McDonald’s (because you can’t visit a foreign country without sampling their Mickidiees) and spent the rest of the afternoon doing nothing. 

We then walked into down for dinner, and spent the rest of the evening in a café smoking shisha and drinking cold hibiscus tea. For once, I actually left the hotel appropriately dressed and wasn’t sent back to the room by Michael to change my clothing. I was wearing a knee length skirt and a long sleeved shirt, but the heat, even at night, was unbearable. So, sitting at the café, I was fidgeting and trying to cool myself off and apparently at one point, I pulled my skirt about 2 inches above my knee, unconsciously. Michael witnessed this, his eyes buggered out, and he slammed his hand on my leg “What are you trying to do!” he yelled at me. I’m clearly his problem child of the trip. Who would expect any different?

Today, we board our felucca to spend the next 24 hours baking in the heat and not having access to decent restrooms while being eaten alive by mosquitoes. I’m considering taking a lot of different pills and praying for this part of the experience to be over as quickly as possible. 

First Days in Egypt!

Egypt Adventure indeed! I can’t believe how much I’ve seen and done in the last 48 hours. I arrived in Cairo around 8pm and was relieved when it only took 20 minutes for the Gap adventures representative to find me. We then drove through crazy rush hour traffic, where we didn’t move for 10 minutes at a time and where the drivers made 6 lines out of 3 to finally arrive at my hotel an hour later. The room was pleasantly cool and upon retrieving my passport from the front desk, I met Sean, another one of the tour participants. We went out onto the streets of Cairo to find dinner, during which I understood the value of covering up – even though I was wearing a conservative outfit, for me. The looks and jests and jeers I got from the men were not at all flattering and made me feel really uncomfortable. I can’t say that my first dinner in Cairo was particularly great either. We stopped at a place that had cheap pizza on the menu but, after ordering and looking around, I realized that the pizza we would be served was coming from frozen boxes. Yum!

This was not that astute of an observation on my part as, arranged on top of the pizza oven, in a rather picturesque display, were the boxes from which our pizza was being defrosted.

Yuck. Oh well. Shortly after returning to my hotel, my roommate Marjian, from Belgium, arrived. We spoke briefly and passed out.

The next day we had breakfast at the hotel and met the rest of the group before heading for the pyramids. Our tour guide, Michael, did his best to explain everything to us, but it was a lot of information and I’m afraid most of it went in one ear and out the other. Our tour guide: 

The pyramids are impressionable, and I’m glad I saw them, but personally, I have to say that Chichen Itza was far more impressive in my opinion. Of course, these pyramids are older, and the fact that there’s 3 million stones and that it took 20,000 people and 20 years to build IS impressive, but when you simply look at the two structures, I have to say that the pyramids are well…not that great. 

We also saw the Sphynx, and our tour guide made sure we took the most cliche picture there is:

Finally, we visited the Egyptian Museum. I’m not a fan of museums, especially ones that aren’t air conditioned when its near 100 degrees outside. So, I didn’t enjoy the museum. After the museum, we headed out to the train station to board our overnight train down to Aswan. Due to the odd way the day was planned, we basically had over two hours to kill. Some members of our group were determined to get some alcohol for the ride down so we stopped at a SHADY, dark, hot “liquor store” where 4 of us bought 2 bottles of “Fineland Egyptian Vodka” to share. It was cheap looking, and I knew it would be disastrous, but everyone else was determined to stay on a “budget”. In the end, no one had a hangover but no one got drunk either, so we’re thinkgin t he “43% alcohol” on the label is a lie. While we sat at the train station, 5 or 6 other trains that weren’t ours went by and it made most of us pretty apprehensive as to the train we would be taking. The trains that passed us clearly didn’t have AC – they didn’t even have windows! Some train cars were full to the brim with people, with people hanging out the doors and windows, and we witnessed more than once people running after the trains and people in the windows helping them climb in. In very “movie-like” moments, we even saw kids riding in the back or on top of the trains. This is all a little unreal!

In the end it turned out our train was not so bad, and, apparently, the nicest train you can take in Egypt. The food was passable, the beds were comfortable, and we even had sinks, even though there was no water pressure. We passed a really nice evening in the train’s “club car”, a smoky greenish gray room with chairs and tables nailed to the ground, playing “Never Have I Ever” and rejecting the poor “bar” tender’s offers to sell us Fanta, Coke or Sprite. This world without alcohol is rather strange.

Me upon arrival into our car for the evening: 

I

n the morning we arrived in Aswan. Our car attendant kept telling me and the other girls to put on hats or cover our hair because the sun was very strong. When I put on one of the headscarves that I bought in Jerusalem, my tour guide and the car attendant both started laughing at me, but wouldn’t tell me why. Later, I found out that the style and way in which I was wearing the scarf (the way all married women wear it in Israel) is only worn by servants/cleaning women in Egypt. Awesome.

We spent the rest of the morning at the pool in our surprisingly nice hotel. We went into town for some lunch and I had my first taste of Koshoury, a dish of macaroni, lentils, onions and, in my case, liver and tomatoes. It was surprisingly good. I hope I don’t get sick from the vegetables. The heat at that time was UNBEARABLE though, and the 10 minute walk back to the hotel felt like an eternity in hell. I spent the rest of the afternoon hiding in my room with the AC. 

In the evening, we took a motorboat to the West Bank of the Nile River, where our next method of transportation awaited us- camels! The camel ride through the desert was awesome, amazing, incredible, and everything else that no picture or video can convey. It was unreal.

At the end of the camel ride, our Nubian hosts for the evening picked us up and we rode back to their home in the back of their pick up trucks:

The home and the dinner were both lovely. The food was delicious and the little kids were adorable.

 Before we left, all the men and boys of the village gathered outside the house where we ate and started playing drums and singing for us. We joined them in this little street party of sorts and danced and sang and clapped. It was an amazing send off.

We then rode the pick up trucks back down to the water, with the little boys riding on the back of the trucks and jumping off last minute. They were all adorable and looked happy, but I couldn’t help thinking that it’s so unfair that only the little boys get to play outside in the (finally, slightly) cooler night air, while the girls are still stuck inside in the hot kitchens.

Our motor boats were waiting to take us back to our hotel but, once we were all comfortably settled on the roof and the boat had drifted away from the harbor, it turned out that the motor was broken. Another boat had to come in and tow us back to the dock, where we waited for the boat to get fixed. Me, chillin on the roof of the boat, waiting for the boat to get fixed:

Finally, an hour later, hot tired and happy, we were home. 

Goodbye Israel, hello the rest of the middle east!

To say that I am tired is an understatement. My last 24 hours in Israel were undoubtedly eventful. I didn’t have much on my agenda – pack, send all stuff I don’t need to Barcelona, and come up to Tel Aviv for one last day on the beach and a nice dinner + wine with Paula before heading to the airport in the morning.

Packing was easy enough, and I stuffed an entire backpack of stuff I definitely wouldn’t need, weighing anywhere from 10-15 pounds.  (See previous post on my Post Office Adventures)

Two hours later, after making myself a final Israeli breakfast of some Shakshuka, I’m on a sheirut to the Ashdod Central Bus Station with my huge duffel bag and backpack. Sheirut drivers don’t like me. I take up too much room with all my shit. I hop on the bus to TLV, and manage to find the correct bus at the Central Bus Station in TLV with minimal effort – I didn’t want to take another sheirut in Tel Aviv. My bag is too fat to fit through their little doors. I walked down to the beach and enjoyed a free lounge chair – despite sitting right next to the guy who was collecting money from people sitting down, no one collected money from me! That never happens to me.  My last errand was to buy a visor, since my sunhat was falling apart, so I went to the Carmel shuk and got one for 15 shekels, stopping for some falafel balls along the way. I didn’t used to like falafel, and I still don’t like how they eat it here, but I get the sandwich and then pick out the tehina-drenched deep fried balls of crunchiness. Yummmmm. Dinner #1.

Then Paula and I went to an amazing sea food restaurant called Goocha for dinner #2. We had mixed seafood in a garlic lemon cream sauce, with a  bottle of wine. It was seriously the perfect last night, sitting in the warm, but not stickily hot, evening, sipping cold wine, enjoying delicious food, and great conversation. It was so enjoyable, in fact, I bummed a cigarette off of her. Just what I need. More vices!

We then bar hopped a bit and by my 5^th glass of wine, I realized I was drunk and could no longer be held responsible for my behavior. At this point, Paula stepped in and made some fantastic decisions for me. Luckily, I sobered up before any of those decisions could have any negative consequences. Nevertheless, when I set off from her place at 8 am on 3 hours of sleep, I was not the happiest of campers.

I got to the Savidor train station just as my train to the airport left, apparently. I walked around the platform looking very confused, and finally asked a security guard for information. He got VERY excited that I was talking to him and got very close to me, with a look on his face like he just might take a bite out of me. In the end, he was very helpful but man, this lack of personal space thing takes some getting used to. I guess the alternative is people like the woman who sold me my train ticket, who had an expression on her face that she did me a favor by even selling me the ticket in the first place and how dare I put her out further by asking what platform I should take the train from. I also met a really nice girl named Julie who moved to Israel a year ago. We bonded over the Luna Bars we were both eating and she told me about her travels all over the world and her 6 months volunteering in Thailand and we found out we both studied in Aix! She helped me make sure I got on the right train and showed me where to go when we got off.

Apparently, smooth departures from airports are not in my cards on this trip. I got the standards 20,000 questions from a security officer, then had my bags x-rayed. I was then sent to go stand in the line to have every piece of my luggage examined by hand. I stood in line without moving for 30 minutes while they took all the passengers flying to Tashkent, and finally it was my turn. I thought I would be easy for them, just a simple American girl with a bunch of clothes and toiletries. Apparently, not so much. All my flashlights, chargers, converters, cell phones, and external hard drives caused more drama than I could have ever imagined. Every single bag and ziplock baggie that I so thoroughly and logically organized (trying to learn my mama’s talents) was shaken out and every item was inspected. They then took ALL of my electronics, which fit into a large bin, and took them away to be examined. Despite the fact that I had shown up to the airport 3 hours early, I was now pressed for time as just the searching of my belongings was now taking over 45 minutes. The security officer then told me she would go check me in, because we were running out of time, and then I would be escorted to my gate so that I wouldn’t have to wait in line. By the time they were done with my search, there wasn’t a soul left in the inspection area. It was fine, nothing bad happened, but why me? 

My flight to Cairo went through Jordan, and the first leg, TLV-Amman, had all of 10 people on it, on a plane for 100+. It was spacious and nice, but unfortunately the flight was only 45 minutes. Arriving in Amman was somewhat shocking. I look out the window and see nothing, for miles and miles and miles. Not to over dramatize. but I felt like I was in one of those movies where a soldier's wife arrives to wherever he's serving for some big important reason and is shocked and overwhelmed by the lack of civilization. Well, that's a little how it was. Once we got to the airport itself it was even stranger because I've never seen an international terminal so void of people. I didn't have to deal with passport control or anything like that, but waiting in line to get my transfer papers to go on to the transit area (which it turns out I didn't need) was somewhat creepy, as there were maybe 3 women in the entire terminal and, except for the ones who were working behind various counters, they were covered head to toe. Me with my bright green pants and blond hair and green eyes definitely stood out like a sore thumb, and it was uncomfortable.

 Its better now, though, as I've made my way through the transit area and am happily sitting at the Starbucks with a frappucino and internet... Only problem is, the plugs here are, for some reason, different so I only have about 20 minutes of battery left. I'm praying that my journey to the Cairo hotel is less adventuresome because I'm exhausted and nearly had an anxiety attack already today when my bags were being searched, I just can't handle two. 

You haven't experienced a foreign country until you've dealt with their postal service

The only task of any importance I had on my last day in Israel was to mail 10-15 pounds of useless stuff to Barcelona. Since I’d already unsuccessfully gone to the post office the day before only to find it closed, I at least knew where I was going this time. I didn’t have boxes or any packaging material, just my big blue oranim backpack full of stuff. I got to the post office and took a number – 37. I look up at the counter – 25. Ok, so I’m gonna be here a while. You could tell, just by looking around and the  “ready to pounce” look on people’s faces around the two tellers that sitting and waiting their turn in a system that actually enforced it was just contrary to every fiber of their being. Finally it was my turn and luckily, the lady spoke English. She stared at my backpack for a long time, trying to figure out how to mail it. Apparently, the post office doesn’t sell boxes. She thought about putting the label directly onto the backpack, then realized that probably wouldn’t work. “You know what,” she says to me “ go outside and find a box, and we’ll tape it.”

“Outside?” I ask, making sure I’m understanding her correctly. The only thing outside is trash bins.

“Yeah, outside. You should be able to find boxes there. Then come back to me, you don’t need to wait in line again.”

So, off I go, outside. I walk past 5 or 6 trashbins, all of which are empty. It looks like the trash was just collected. Then I go towards the other stores in the strip mall. First I find myself at the back entrance of a bakery, and I see a stack of folded down boxes. I ask the lady baking bread inside if I can take a box, and she tells me she needs the boxes. Strike 1. I then walk into a convenience store that looks like it gets stuff delivered in boxes. The man behind the counter speaks no English but, SHOCKER, speaks Russian. I ask him for a box and he says to come back tomorrow, tomorrow he’ll have boxes. Tomorrow doesn’t work for me. Strike 2. Finally, I walk into the small grocer/vegetable stand where Katie and I buy fruits and vegetables on Tuesday (they have the nicest looking tomatoes) and I ask the man , who informs me he speak no English, for boxes. He takes me into the back where he and another old man start digging through piles of boxes of different sizes. They find a box that’ll fit my backpack, but there’s no lid. So off they go into the back and emerge eventually with a lid, but definitely not for that box. That doesn’t phase anyone, though, and after some shoving and squishing and taping, I have a package I can send to Barcelona. Thank you, grocer man!

I come back to the post office but, alas, the lady that told me to come to her and that I wouldn’t have to wait in line again was no longer there. So, I take another number. 54. I look up at the counter. 42. Great. Nevertheless, 2 hours later and 200 shekels poorer, I had succeeded in shipping my completely useless crap to Barcelona. I hope it gets there. 

Volunteering in Ashdod

Part of the reason I chose Oranim's "Beach, Hebrew, Volunteer" program was, well, for the volunteering. I wanted to do more in Israel than just sit on the beach and get fat on Israeli breakfasts. I also thought it would just generally be more fun to be doing something more than just bar hopping, and I knew I'd lose my mind without some sort of schedule. I didn't actually know what kind of volunteering I'd be getting myself into, just that it would be twice a week, and have something to do with kids. Not ideal, but, my options were limited.

It turned out that the volunteering was teaching high school kids English. More specifically, though, we were "helping" to prepare these kids for their "Bogrut" exams in English. So, for the most part, these kids had a working knowledge of Hebrew, but needed each skill (listening, reading, speaking) perfected. While the teacher gave us some guidelines, including some reading comp exercises and general speaking questions, most of it was up to us. I was going to be teaching incoming seniors, twice a week, for 3 hours a day. I had 4 kids (that eventually dwindled down to 3): Nofar, Chen, Raz, and Matanel (he stopped coming).

Pictured here are Raz & Chen (she was ALWAYS tired and "sick". I'm really not sure why she ever came):







The first class was challenging. I had NO idea what to do with them. I had 3 hours, and the agenda for the day was "Speaking". I had a list of 25 or so questions to ask them, subjects for them to practice speaking on, but for the most part they gave me two sentence answers. It was also fairly obvious that the level was very unequal in the class. Nofar was basically fluent, while Raz could barely put a sentence together.

The next class, I tried to be a little creative. I printed out the lyrics (with blanks) to Tupac - Baby Don't Cry, and wanted to do an exercise with them where they fill in the blanks and then we talk about the words they don't know and talk about what the song is about. Something I discovered from this exercise is that Israelis are RACIST! When I first introduced Tupac, they fully said, "oh, the nigger". I then had to explain that you CANNOT use that word in America unless, of course, you yourself are one. A day when another class joined ours, and there was a black kid in that class, they kept saying "oh, make him do it, he's the black one, he's the slave". All in all, most of the activities I came up with \ only really kept their attention for about 30 minutes, and then they had no qualms about telling me it was boring.

That's another striking things about these kids. Manners and discipline, apparently, are NOT taught. If they get a phone call in the middle of class, they will take it, and they wont even leave the room or anything. There's no respect for authority, and there's no concept of the teacher being in charge, and there's definitely no respect show to elders. I realize that a teacher can lose that over time, and I've watched enough Dangerous Minds-like movies to know that kids from tougher neighborhoods don't have these things, either. But these are good kids, and they don't think they're doing anything wrong!

In future classes, we sang Lady Gaga and talked about religion, racism, and finding me an Israeli boyfriend. We combined classes with some of the other volunteers and played poker. Raz's answers to most of my questions/prompts were "Drugs!" and "You want drugs?" and "We do it with drugs!".

One day, it was just me and Nofar, and we spoke at length about what she was going to do with her life. She is interested in architecture and art and fashion, but doesn't want to go to university and is in the process of getting her manicurist license. I tried to instill in her a sense of wanting to pursue bigger and better things, because she is a really smart girl and could go really far, but something about her upbringing has taken ambition out of her. When I talked to her about religion and the fact that we're teaching at a somewhat "religious" school, she told me her "family isn't really religious, but they want her to have the personality of a religious girl...you know, not just go sleep with anyone".

All the kids were shocked when I told them I didn't keep kosher, that I'd eaten pork and shrimp and that both were religious! Chen then tried to convince me that "just because my family wasn't religious doesn't mean I couldn't' start practicing now!" You have to admire her for trying! That day I felt kind of scared though - if some volunteer came to my brother's school and said something that would then make him turn to God and want to be all ultra-orthodox, I'm pretty sure my parents would be pretty pissed, even if they didn't go ahead and DO anything about. I left that day being scared that somethign I said might make these kids question their obligation to follow the path that their parents had instilled in them since birth. While in my opinion, its an ENLIGHTENING thing, and not a negative one, I'm sure orthodox religious parents would not agree.

The last day was probably the best, when the kids begged me to come back the next day instead of the other volunteer, Viki, who also happens to be my roommate. They told me I was fun, and she was boring - OK, not behavior I would encourage and not a nice thing to say, but still, it made me feel good :)