So here I am in Aleppo. A nice city, but one I have a hard time getting a firm grasp on.
Maybe that's because I'm coming out of the sick (feeling better, doing solid things, regaining an appetite), and tired (sleeping a lot the last few days, looking forward to some more again tonight), or who knows. It's reputedly a more conservative city, but that doesn't affect me too much...fewer shoulders to look at I suppose. I guess the streets are quite entwined??? Ah, heck I don't know. Maybe if I'd had time and energy to wander more I would have enjoyed the place a bit more, and I certainly didn't dislike it so there's nothing to complain about.
So Aleppo. It is the land of the Souq, lots and lots of them, both the tourist kind and the domestic home wares and toothpaste kind. Really you can't go wrong. These souqs are narrower and lower than the ones in Damascus so they have a slightly more authentic feel. I even bought something in one today. I didn't bargain very hard, but what are you going to do? I figured I had to get SOMETHING in one.
The other main site in town, aside from wandering various quarters is the citadel. A human made mound with lots of fortifications (in various states of repair) on top. Wicked views, some nice dark holes and an amazingly restored throne room. The things you can do with wood and a bit of glaze.
Aside from that...?
Nice enough, but we're moving on shortly. Turkey to be more specific, tomorrow at noon, and after arriving in Antakya we're going to try and find an overnight bus to places elsewhere. Distances are bigger (much bigger) in Turkey so we figure we may as well attempt some overnighters on what are reputedly tremendously comfortable buses. We shall see. We've pegged out two places to visit before Istanbul, Olympos on the Mediterranean coast and Goreme in Cappadocia. The latter is the place with those cool stone conical deals and hotels with caves for rooms. Hey hey hey!
I anticipate full internet access in what are two very touristy/backpacker locales, but you never know, so be a little patient.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Saturday, July 05, 2008
next
Tomorrow to Aleppo then onto Turkey on Wednesday.
Not sure exactly where we're goign in Turkey but we're aiming to be in Istanbul proper for only 4 or 5 days so we have 6 or 7 days to visit some other Turkish locales. We shall see how it goes.
Not sure exactly where we're goign in Turkey but we're aiming to be in Istanbul proper for only 4 or 5 days so we have 6 or 7 days to visit some other Turkish locales. We shall see how it goes.
Qa'laat Salah al-Din
I'm sure I've spelled Saladin's name about 23 different ways, but whatever, you get the idea.
Today we visited his castle!
It is a pretty sweet place. Set above a pine forest that smells just like Muskoka it is just lovely. It is in two levels with the upper level being an entire castle and teh lower lever just having a wall around it. I suppose in the past there might have been buildings there, but it might also have been a really nice orchard or something.
Also the road runs past the castle on the north side, and although the current entrance is up some stairs on the east side, I think the entrance used to be over the modern road. I say this because the road is in a 30 foot wide chasm and at one end there is a pillar of rock that apparently used to support some sort of draw bridge. I'm sure I'm doing a terrible job describing this, but believe me when I say it's pretty cool.
The castle has a very different feel than a lot of the other crusader castles we've visited. I'm not sure if this is because it was built by Saladin or what the deal is, but it was a nice place.
Once agian, unfrotunately, I had trouble with the ISIC card. Maybe a reminder was just sent out, but I'm having to pay 150 pounds now when it's 10 as a student. Alas. It was funny today. I try to be aghast that they're not accepting my student card although I fully understand that the government has made a decisions and I don't have much to argue about.
"But I'm a sutdent, I pay tutitions and everything"
"You're in Syria now and here it's 26."
"Really?"
WHo knows how well he understood embittered sarcasm. Good times.
Today we visited his castle!
It is a pretty sweet place. Set above a pine forest that smells just like Muskoka it is just lovely. It is in two levels with the upper level being an entire castle and teh lower lever just having a wall around it. I suppose in the past there might have been buildings there, but it might also have been a really nice orchard or something.
Also the road runs past the castle on the north side, and although the current entrance is up some stairs on the east side, I think the entrance used to be over the modern road. I say this because the road is in a 30 foot wide chasm and at one end there is a pillar of rock that apparently used to support some sort of draw bridge. I'm sure I'm doing a terrible job describing this, but believe me when I say it's pretty cool.
The castle has a very different feel than a lot of the other crusader castles we've visited. I'm not sure if this is because it was built by Saladin or what the deal is, but it was a nice place.
Once agian, unfrotunately, I had trouble with the ISIC card. Maybe a reminder was just sent out, but I'm having to pay 150 pounds now when it's 10 as a student. Alas. It was funny today. I try to be aghast that they're not accepting my student card although I fully understand that the government has made a decisions and I don't have much to argue about.
"But I'm a sutdent, I pay tutitions and everything"
"You're in Syria now and here it's 26."
"Really?"
WHo knows how well he understood embittered sarcasm. Good times.
Where am I now?
I don't even know...
Actually it's a city called Lattakia, on the Mediterranean Sea in the northwest of Syria. It's an interesting city, described as more laid back than the rest of the country and I can only agree. The non head scarfed ladies outnumber those with tetes covered and I've even seen some shoulders here. Mind blowing shit I know.
We arrived here and promptly bumped into Pierre again. I think I've emntioned him, but he's a New Brunswicker who we met in Damascus and saw again in Hama. He went to Aleppo, but on;y spent a day there. We've also being hanging out with Nick, a Swede of Greek and Polish descent.
Yesterday we decided to have a beach day, so we hopped on a public bus and rode north then wandered doent a street until we reached teh "beach". The beach was nice, I guess, except it was just rock, and the garbage (that's to be expected) but the best part was the Zoe show.
Well I guess we were all pretty popular, but Zoe was hell bent on sun bathing in her bikini, so she did. The result was clusters of men and plenty of stairs from teh girls too. Nick and Pierre were dragged off to someone's house for some watermelon and Zoe and I stayed on the beach hanging out. Lots of people doing the ol' "I'm going to take a picture of you right here" while carefully aiming over the shoulder and other fun. And for whatever reason we even had a baby show up. People love handing the baby off to Zoe so they can take some pics.
WHo knows.
Pierre and Nick returned declaring themselves not having a relaxed beach day (apparent;y being tugged and poked and "come here" and "look at this" inhibits relaxation). So we took off, ambling back up the road towards the mainstreet taht would take us back to Lattakia...but wait.Le Meridien, a nice hotel was on the way so we decided t stop off there. Of course they have ridiculous prices if you want to use their pool and beach, so it's a good thing we were guests at the hotel. Room 351.
So we ended up on a real sandy beach with cold showers and a pool. Very nice.
Unfortunately when we returned I was really starting to feel whatever I was feeling. I had had a sore throat a few days before but my brain decided to feel swollen and my lower back sore and my legs really fatigued. WHo knows. If Anyone knows what said symptoms suggest, do tell, but I am feeling better today so not too many worries.
Actually it's a city called Lattakia, on the Mediterranean Sea in the northwest of Syria. It's an interesting city, described as more laid back than the rest of the country and I can only agree. The non head scarfed ladies outnumber those with tetes covered and I've even seen some shoulders here. Mind blowing shit I know.
We arrived here and promptly bumped into Pierre again. I think I've emntioned him, but he's a New Brunswicker who we met in Damascus and saw again in Hama. He went to Aleppo, but on;y spent a day there. We've also being hanging out with Nick, a Swede of Greek and Polish descent.
Yesterday we decided to have a beach day, so we hopped on a public bus and rode north then wandered doent a street until we reached teh "beach". The beach was nice, I guess, except it was just rock, and the garbage (that's to be expected) but the best part was the Zoe show.
Well I guess we were all pretty popular, but Zoe was hell bent on sun bathing in her bikini, so she did. The result was clusters of men and plenty of stairs from teh girls too. Nick and Pierre were dragged off to someone's house for some watermelon and Zoe and I stayed on the beach hanging out. Lots of people doing the ol' "I'm going to take a picture of you right here" while carefully aiming over the shoulder and other fun. And for whatever reason we even had a baby show up. People love handing the baby off to Zoe so they can take some pics.
WHo knows.
Pierre and Nick returned declaring themselves not having a relaxed beach day (apparent;y being tugged and poked and "come here" and "look at this" inhibits relaxation). So we took off, ambling back up the road towards the mainstreet taht would take us back to Lattakia...but wait.Le Meridien, a nice hotel was on the way so we decided t stop off there. Of course they have ridiculous prices if you want to use their pool and beach, so it's a good thing we were guests at the hotel. Room 351.
So we ended up on a real sandy beach with cold showers and a pool. Very nice.
Unfortunately when we returned I was really starting to feel whatever I was feeling. I had had a sore throat a few days before but my brain decided to feel swollen and my lower back sore and my legs really fatigued. WHo knows. If Anyone knows what said symptoms suggest, do tell, but I am feeling better today so not too many worries.
men in suits
I forgot to mention.
The ministry of the Interior in Damascus where we had to get our pass to visit the Golan Heights isin the embassy area, or at least one of them. To get to the place we cruised by the Dutch embassy, the Danish (or what's left of it was just ont he next road) and tehn best of all teh US embassy which was facing the Chinese and Iraqis. Heh.
There were two types of people hanging out in this area. The first type were miltary types. Machine guns and ammo pouches around there tummies, but no uniforms. There are lots of uniformed military types in Syria but wherever shit could get real (embassies, Golan Heights, etc). They get to wear jeans and a t-shirt, or a collared shirt, really it seems as long as they're presetable they're acceptable.
The other type of people hanging out in the area are gentlemen in suits. No weapons apparent, just them in their suits and sunglasses. Hanging out, looking around...maybe I can take a quick picture? Don't worry I didn't bother trying.
The ministry of the Interior in Damascus where we had to get our pass to visit the Golan Heights isin the embassy area, or at least one of them. To get to the place we cruised by the Dutch embassy, the Danish (or what's left of it was just ont he next road) and tehn best of all teh US embassy which was facing the Chinese and Iraqis. Heh.
There were two types of people hanging out in this area. The first type were miltary types. Machine guns and ammo pouches around there tummies, but no uniforms. There are lots of uniformed military types in Syria but wherever shit could get real (embassies, Golan Heights, etc). They get to wear jeans and a t-shirt, or a collared shirt, really it seems as long as they're presetable they're acceptable.
The other type of people hanging out in the area are gentlemen in suits. No weapons apparent, just them in their suits and sunglasses. Hanging out, looking around...maybe I can take a quick picture? Don't worry I didn't bother trying.
I should mention...
I've had a wicked brain destroying cold/sickness for a few days. Well actually just yesterday and into today really. I'm getting over it but am kind of drained and if my writing is shit, that's why.
If all my writing is shit...well I don't know what to tell you.
If all my writing is shit...well I don't know what to tell you.
paying for the bus
We do a lot of our travelling in small vans that hold about 15 people including the driver.
In general they hang around and leave when full, dropping people off and picking people up as space and neccessity dictates. The fun part comes in the fare.
People pay what the fare is but when change needs to be made the passengers generally do a lot of the math and change making as the moneys are passed up from the back. When change can't be made teh driver will do it, and generally one of the people in the row immediately behind will be responsible for passing teh money up and saying how many people it is for.
Not THAT exciting I guess. Except when it's me and I get to use my stupendously awesome Arabic number abilities.
Stupendously.
In general they hang around and leave when full, dropping people off and picking people up as space and neccessity dictates. The fun part comes in the fare.
People pay what the fare is but when change needs to be made the passengers generally do a lot of the math and change making as the moneys are passed up from the back. When change can't be made teh driver will do it, and generally one of the people in the row immediately behind will be responsible for passing teh money up and saying how many people it is for.
Not THAT exciting I guess. Except when it's me and I get to use my stupendously awesome Arabic number abilities.
Stupendously.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Mongols
Reading variuous museum displays one always notices Crusader castles were attacked and besieged by Salh-ha Din. Some he took, some just quit, for instance Krak de Chevaliers was taken but only because the Latin Kingdoms were at an end, not because they were in danger of falling. Others he showed up and then walked away knowing they'd never be taken.
One also reads the histories of the castles. Built by crusdaers, augmented by muslim owners etc, but then...for all the polemics attached to the crusades, the Christians vs the Muslims etc. in this area a lot of the fortresses also include a little section on the Mongols.
There is never any 'the Mongols tried to take it and failed'...they simply didn't. I don't know why this struck me as so interesting. I suppose in part because it is mildly amusing that THAT part of the history gets forgotten, but also because the Mongols are so bad-assed. I mean look at a map of the empire at its fullest extent and have your mind blown. And apparently 6-12% (or something) of all the population in those areas can trace some ancestry to Genghis himself. Good to be the king. (I very easily could have mis-remembered some of these facts and figures, but intersting to\ be sure).
One also reads the histories of the castles. Built by crusdaers, augmented by muslim owners etc, but then...for all the polemics attached to the crusades, the Christians vs the Muslims etc. in this area a lot of the fortresses also include a little section on the Mongols.
There is never any 'the Mongols tried to take it and failed'...they simply didn't. I don't know why this struck me as so interesting. I suppose in part because it is mildly amusing that THAT part of the history gets forgotten, but also because the Mongols are so bad-assed. I mean look at a map of the empire at its fullest extent and have your mind blown. And apparently 6-12% (or something) of all the population in those areas can trace some ancestry to Genghis himself. Good to be the king. (I very easily could have mis-remembered some of these facts and figures, but intersting to\ be sure).
Krak de Chevaliers
Mercy I've been at this internet console a while...whatever, this story must be told.
Yesterday I saw it. The castle of castles. TE Lawerence said something along the lines of every schoolboys dreams of castles are based around this one, and I would tend to agree.
Like most castles K d C (or Qa'laat al Hosn) sits atop a hill looking amazing. I can't be bothered to write in all the details but it has crazy tunnels and ramps and rooms and a giant oven and interior well and walls and a moat and towers and ramparts and more of all the above and more awesome still.
Look at some pictures I guess. Such a wicked place. And all the better because we sorted our way there using public transit. Word to anyone who ever wants to travel here using publuic transit. Get it done as early as possible. Buses don't dry up but there are certainly far more of them first thing in the morning than when we were returning around 330.
Krak de Chevaliers...yes.
Yesterday I saw it. The castle of castles. TE Lawerence said something along the lines of every schoolboys dreams of castles are based around this one, and I would tend to agree.
Like most castles K d C (or Qa'laat al Hosn) sits atop a hill looking amazing. I can't be bothered to write in all the details but it has crazy tunnels and ramps and rooms and a giant oven and interior well and walls and a moat and towers and ramparts and more of all the above and more awesome still.
Look at some pictures I guess. Such a wicked place. And all the better because we sorted our way there using public transit. Word to anyone who ever wants to travel here using publuic transit. Get it done as early as possible. Buses don't dry up but there are certainly far more of them first thing in the morning than when we were returning around 330.
Krak de Chevaliers...yes.
Hama 2 (at the old mill)
So we parted ways with the repairman...oops I meant to mention, he must have other workers because these wheels are 4-10m in diameter (different sizes) and not exactly manageable for one dude.
Parted ways and walked across a stone causeway thing. Part of the structures they have set up to control water flows. For you see it is not just the waterwheels there are also a few flour mills around. Out of commission mid you. How do I know this?
Well, aross the causeway a fellow, well tanned and with a swimmer's body and no shirt was hanging out outside one of the mills. And he invited us in. SUre! Again through the wonders opf communication, his home was an old mill, complete with grinding stones from Denmark, France etc, and built into a building initially built by the Romans. Through a tiny hole in the floor we went beneath to inspect the metal waterwheels down there. These ones were just for power, no need to move water and in earlier times, before rust and decay had set in they were connected to vertical driveshafts and in turn to the grinding wheels above. For some reason he really wanted to show us the wheels turned and he and a friend tried to turn a couple of the metal hulks (only about 1.5-2m in diameter) but they only succeeded in breaking off a bunch of chunks.
We then returned upstairs and chatted for a few hours over some delicious lemon tea...I think just lemon tree leaves, but who knows. What did we talk about? I don't really know. His friend was saying something about haviong one kid who he hoped, starting at the age of 5 would begin learning English. Then some other guy showed up who had been beaten up a few days before by 10 cokeheads (the sniffing gesture is what I based that supposition on). Good times all around.
All I could say was majnoon (crazy), which I did, to great hilarity. But then we begged our goodbyes and were off. But we weren't quite. The 'dude' as I've taken to calling him showed us where he slept...a square cement room with pillows, and his 'garage' filled with...junk. Both places he insisted we take pictures of because that's what tourist do I guess. I think he just really enjoyed having us over and didn't want us to leave. He'd offered food for the next day but we had to turn him down.
These visits can be draining but they're always fun and they're a great way to kill some time.
Also, they have madew me realize that without trying too hard I've picked up some Arabic and can communicate on a very basic level. If I did that without trying imagine if I put my mind to it! Hopefully such things will be quickly realized in France.
Parted ways and walked across a stone causeway thing. Part of the structures they have set up to control water flows. For you see it is not just the waterwheels there are also a few flour mills around. Out of commission mid you. How do I know this?
Well, aross the causeway a fellow, well tanned and with a swimmer's body and no shirt was hanging out outside one of the mills. And he invited us in. SUre! Again through the wonders opf communication, his home was an old mill, complete with grinding stones from Denmark, France etc, and built into a building initially built by the Romans. Through a tiny hole in the floor we went beneath to inspect the metal waterwheels down there. These ones were just for power, no need to move water and in earlier times, before rust and decay had set in they were connected to vertical driveshafts and in turn to the grinding wheels above. For some reason he really wanted to show us the wheels turned and he and a friend tried to turn a couple of the metal hulks (only about 1.5-2m in diameter) but they only succeeded in breaking off a bunch of chunks.
We then returned upstairs and chatted for a few hours over some delicious lemon tea...I think just lemon tree leaves, but who knows. What did we talk about? I don't really know. His friend was saying something about haviong one kid who he hoped, starting at the age of 5 would begin learning English. Then some other guy showed up who had been beaten up a few days before by 10 cokeheads (the sniffing gesture is what I based that supposition on). Good times all around.
All I could say was majnoon (crazy), which I did, to great hilarity. But then we begged our goodbyes and were off. But we weren't quite. The 'dude' as I've taken to calling him showed us where he slept...a square cement room with pillows, and his 'garage' filled with...junk. Both places he insisted we take pictures of because that's what tourist do I guess. I think he just really enjoyed having us over and didn't want us to leave. He'd offered food for the next day but we had to turn him down.
These visits can be draining but they're always fun and they're a great way to kill some time.
Also, they have madew me realize that without trying too hard I've picked up some Arabic and can communicate on a very basic level. If I did that without trying imagine if I put my mind to it! Hopefully such things will be quickly realized in France.
Hama
As mentioned, we are now in Hama, successfully negotiating the city bus and Pullman bus station to get here.
Even managed to walk from the Hama station to the hotel. Maps are good, but when you're pack is on your back you just want to arrive.
As mentioned this is a city of norias and the river is a nice place to walk along looking for the beasts. The first day in we did just that and guess what??? Two people had us in for tea. SUrprise!
The first fellow was a workman, taking advatage of the season to replace some of the older parts in the biggest noria in town. He had taken off all the scoopy fins and was slowly fashioning the new parts out of some large blocks he had on hand. I'm not sure if he had people working with him (he must) but he said it would take about 20-25 days to finish the job...I think.
We tried to turn down his offer of tea...we wonder why we bother sometimes because they don't seem to ever take no as an answer. We were joined at the tea table by a Russian. He was sitting there with his nose in a phrasebook saying he way trying to speak Arabic. I have never thought about it before, but as he sat there, saying nothing and more importantly communiucating nothing I realized that was the worst way to talk to someone. If you're trying to have a conversation. I know I have the benefit of a few weeks and words but I'd rather smile and hand talk it up than do that. Event he workman seemed to think the Russian guy was a bit cuckoo. Who knows what he was looking for but what was he going to do? Ask when the next bus left then smile as he didn't understand the response.
I also want to mention again, when I talk to people and then remember the convo I always remember what was said as a known commodity. The actual conversations are more hand gestures and nods and smiles than anything approaching understood words, but I do feel a level of understanding. Both because I can pick out a few words and because there are certain things that people tend to ask in situations, tea? married? children? want some food? etc.
Even managed to walk from the Hama station to the hotel. Maps are good, but when you're pack is on your back you just want to arrive.
As mentioned this is a city of norias and the river is a nice place to walk along looking for the beasts. The first day in we did just that and guess what??? Two people had us in for tea. SUrprise!
The first fellow was a workman, taking advatage of the season to replace some of the older parts in the biggest noria in town. He had taken off all the scoopy fins and was slowly fashioning the new parts out of some large blocks he had on hand. I'm not sure if he had people working with him (he must) but he said it would take about 20-25 days to finish the job...I think.
We tried to turn down his offer of tea...we wonder why we bother sometimes because they don't seem to ever take no as an answer. We were joined at the tea table by a Russian. He was sitting there with his nose in a phrasebook saying he way trying to speak Arabic. I have never thought about it before, but as he sat there, saying nothing and more importantly communiucating nothing I realized that was the worst way to talk to someone. If you're trying to have a conversation. I know I have the benefit of a few weeks and words but I'd rather smile and hand talk it up than do that. Event he workman seemed to think the Russian guy was a bit cuckoo. Who knows what he was looking for but what was he going to do? Ask when the next bus left then smile as he didn't understand the response.
I also want to mention again, when I talk to people and then remember the convo I always remember what was said as a known commodity. The actual conversations are more hand gestures and nods and smiles than anything approaching understood words, but I do feel a level of understanding. Both because I can pick out a few words and because there are certain things that people tend to ask in situations, tea? married? children? want some food? etc.
Golan Heights (redux and success)
So off we went again...and this time everything went super smoothly. We were old hands afterall.
The only thing was after we accepted a 500 sp offer for the drive around we saw a Japanese fellow walking on the site with his military escort (a dude who may or may not know anything about the city). So apparently the cost is only for the driver and we could have paid even less. Go figure.
But enough of economics. Quenaitra is a city/town (I'm not sure of its exact size, but significant) which was overrun nby Israeli troops, I believe during the 1967 war. (I should mention now that I can access a part of the blogger pages and write these posts, but for some reason can't see my old ones. My apologies if this is a rehash). They went pretty far and then pulled back and Queneitra was one of the spots they momentarily occuppied. Long enough to bulldoze all the houses and shoot up the hospital, etc etc.
It's a pretty strange place. There is a UN observation post there and a lot of flattened structures. The hospital remains, but became a shooting gallery, target practice zone so is pretty messy, the church is intact and the mosque has a giant hole in the minaret...aside from tha, pretty much flat. Some Syrians were picnicing in the rubble (revisiting homes?), but to get there we had to go through an occuppied but unalert UN checkpoint as well as one or two Syrian ones (hence the need for our little piece of paper from the ministry of the interior). A very desolate spot.
Just across the way (we were about 20m from the Israeli border at one point) everything turns very green. Israel was happily growing a lot of whatever right up to the border, looked over by a lot of structures and antennaes on some heights just a little ways off. And this is what, once again it's really all about. The water.
By taking the heights Israel, along with the defensive claims, gets the Sea of Galilee catchment, responsible for about a 1/3 of the country's water. In negotiations with Syria, they want all the Heights back, Israel wants to keep a 200m milkitary buffer on the easter side of the Galilee (I think I got all this from BBC). Politics, religion? BS. It's all about the maayeh (water).
An interesting trip and given the history happening right now in the region I think a better trip than wandering off to see yet another old city. That stuff's not going to change anytime soon.
The only thing was after we accepted a 500 sp offer for the drive around we saw a Japanese fellow walking on the site with his military escort (a dude who may or may not know anything about the city). So apparently the cost is only for the driver and we could have paid even less. Go figure.
But enough of economics. Quenaitra is a city/town (I'm not sure of its exact size, but significant) which was overrun nby Israeli troops, I believe during the 1967 war. (I should mention now that I can access a part of the blogger pages and write these posts, but for some reason can't see my old ones. My apologies if this is a rehash). They went pretty far and then pulled back and Queneitra was one of the spots they momentarily occuppied. Long enough to bulldoze all the houses and shoot up the hospital, etc etc.
It's a pretty strange place. There is a UN observation post there and a lot of flattened structures. The hospital remains, but became a shooting gallery, target practice zone so is pretty messy, the church is intact and the mosque has a giant hole in the minaret...aside from tha, pretty much flat. Some Syrians were picnicing in the rubble (revisiting homes?), but to get there we had to go through an occuppied but unalert UN checkpoint as well as one or two Syrian ones (hence the need for our little piece of paper from the ministry of the interior). A very desolate spot.
Just across the way (we were about 20m from the Israeli border at one point) everything turns very green. Israel was happily growing a lot of whatever right up to the border, looked over by a lot of structures and antennaes on some heights just a little ways off. And this is what, once again it's really all about. The water.
By taking the heights Israel, along with the defensive claims, gets the Sea of Galilee catchment, responsible for about a 1/3 of the country's water. In negotiations with Syria, they want all the Heights back, Israel wants to keep a 200m milkitary buffer on the easter side of the Galilee (I think I got all this from BBC). Politics, religion? BS. It's all about the maayeh (water).
An interesting trip and given the history happening right now in the region I think a better trip than wandering off to see yet another old city. That stuff's not going to change anytime soon.
First the general
We are currently in Hama, home to many large norias (waterwheels) that scoop the Orontes river into aqueducts that then carry it off to fields for irrigation. I'm not sure the aqueducts are the method of transit now, given a lot of them seem a bit frayed and well...non-existent at points, but I'm assured that in spring when the water levels are higher these big glorious bastards creak into action and spread water here and there. They are necessary because the Orontes has fairly steep banks, making other methods of extraction less helpful.
Hama itself is a nice city, pleasant to walk in during the evenings. Today we walked on the other bank up a ways and it was slightly less pleasant. Maybe it was just the time of day but things felt hrrrrm, I'll say less nice. Probably because people don't usually go for walks over there.
Unfortunately our walk ended at the museum wherethey decided by student identity card was illegitimate. Apparently, despite my use of it all over Syria, there is some 3 month old command from the head poobah in Damascus that students can only be students to the age of 26. So I'm screwed. Hopefully it's a one time deal because I much prefer spending 10 syrian pounds to get into places over 150. Go figure.
But let's get to some specifics.
Hama itself is a nice city, pleasant to walk in during the evenings. Today we walked on the other bank up a ways and it was slightly less pleasant. Maybe it was just the time of day but things felt hrrrrm, I'll say less nice. Probably because people don't usually go for walks over there.
Unfortunately our walk ended at the museum wherethey decided by student identity card was illegitimate. Apparently, despite my use of it all over Syria, there is some 3 month old command from the head poobah in Damascus that students can only be students to the age of 26. So I'm screwed. Hopefully it's a one time deal because I much prefer spending 10 syrian pounds to get into places over 150. Go figure.
But let's get to some specifics.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
english overseas
At the guest house I have had a number of conversations, as is my want, and they have got me thinking.
One Welsh fellow is currently working in Cairo for the British Council, teaching English and spreading the good word of British culture to all who will listen. He works about 4 days a week with fairly relaxed hours and gets reasonable holiday and pay.
Another feloow, Pierre the New Brunswicker, is currently living life in Saudi Arabia. Gets about 5 months holiday a year and is getting paid very well. Only draw back is he has to live in Saudi Arabia.
The conversations, however, have made me very aware of the teaching English opportunities that are out there. I don't think I can become insanely wealthy, but it seems you can make a living, and if you're a little bit careful with your money even put some of it away. And the time off...well if I could just get that whole self-discipline thing down I could actually do some writing.
Unfortunately, it also means living overseas for years at a time, with brief visits back, rather than living in Canada and travelling overseas. Decisions decisions. IU guess my upcoming stint in France will give me an idea of whether it is something I want to pursue.
One Welsh fellow is currently working in Cairo for the British Council, teaching English and spreading the good word of British culture to all who will listen. He works about 4 days a week with fairly relaxed hours and gets reasonable holiday and pay.
Another feloow, Pierre the New Brunswicker, is currently living life in Saudi Arabia. Gets about 5 months holiday a year and is getting paid very well. Only draw back is he has to live in Saudi Arabia.
The conversations, however, have made me very aware of the teaching English opportunities that are out there. I don't think I can become insanely wealthy, but it seems you can make a living, and if you're a little bit careful with your money even put some of it away. And the time off...well if I could just get that whole self-discipline thing down I could actually do some writing.
Unfortunately, it also means living overseas for years at a time, with brief visits back, rather than living in Canada and travelling overseas. Decisions decisions. IU guess my upcoming stint in France will give me an idea of whether it is something I want to pursue.
Nargila
Oh yee water pipe with flavoured tabacco...a stereotypical part of the middle east and one that I would have liked to imbibe periodically.
Unfortunately nargila and I do not agree. Not sure if I inhale too deeply or smoke too quickly or what it is, but after a relaxed 15-20 minutes I always end up feeling unright and have a cold sweat break out all over my body.
Oh well. I tried. I guess I'll just have to spend my money on various fruit drinks.
Things that make me say darn.
Unfortunately nargila and I do not agree. Not sure if I inhale too deeply or smoke too quickly or what it is, but after a relaxed 15-20 minutes I always end up feeling unright and have a cold sweat break out all over my body.
Oh well. I tried. I guess I'll just have to spend my money on various fruit drinks.
Things that make me say darn.
Golan Heights (and roads not taken)
We were casting around for a day trip to do from here, and not having much luck, when a New Brunswicker named Piere suggested a trip to the Golan Heights.
We figured out the buses got to the station, caught our connection, got to the town where you go on to the previously occupied area and...we needed some sort of pass from the ministry of the interior in Damascus. Oh crud.
At least we were using local buses and it wasn't too expensive. We know where we need to go to get the passes and the plan is to do tomorrow what we meant to do today. Should be a gas! And hopefully all our friends will be waiting to gouge us for a one hour tour. Heh.
We have decided not to bother with a day trip to Bosra (former capital of Rome's province here) and home of a gigantic amphitheatre. And also skip Palmyra, another Roman city, generally considered to be 'can't miss'. Why skip the two biggest Roman sites in Syria...just because. Bosra just kind of was put aside, maybe we would have gone down there if Golan wasn't happening. Palmyra just seems like a lot of effort to see another city. We've already seen a few and hiking our bags over there (on a bus of course) just doesn't seem terribly appealing).
So when we leave here, we'll be heading north to Hama and Crac de Chevaliers...now castles, I don't think I'll ever tire of them.
We figured out the buses got to the station, caught our connection, got to the town where you go on to the previously occupied area and...we needed some sort of pass from the ministry of the interior in Damascus. Oh crud.
At least we were using local buses and it wasn't too expensive. We know where we need to go to get the passes and the plan is to do tomorrow what we meant to do today. Should be a gas! And hopefully all our friends will be waiting to gouge us for a one hour tour. Heh.
We have decided not to bother with a day trip to Bosra (former capital of Rome's province here) and home of a gigantic amphitheatre. And also skip Palmyra, another Roman city, generally considered to be 'can't miss'. Why skip the two biggest Roman sites in Syria...just because. Bosra just kind of was put aside, maybe we would have gone down there if Golan wasn't happening. Palmyra just seems like a lot of effort to see another city. We've already seen a few and hiking our bags over there (on a bus of course) just doesn't seem terribly appealing).
So when we leave here, we'll be heading north to Hama and Crac de Chevaliers...now castles, I don't think I'll ever tire of them.
Friday
Friday is the holy day here, and Damascus REALLY shuts down on a Friday. Not just the city but all the 'tourist' places as well.
It reveals how a great deal of the tourist industry here, unlike in SE Asia is not based around the western Europeans and North Americans. An interesting difference. Saturday seems a bit more relaxed day than the rest of the week but the stark contrast to how much the whole place shuts down onj Friday is something else.
It reveals how a great deal of the tourist industry here, unlike in SE Asia is not based around the western Europeans and North Americans. An interesting difference. Saturday seems a bit more relaxed day than the rest of the week but the stark contrast to how much the whole place shuts down onj Friday is something else.
Where to begin??? - general
The last few days have been about wandering and relaxing.
The Al- Arabie hotel continues to be lovely...the water has been a bit finicky but whatever. The relaxed covered garden is aces. From there we have wandered the old city of Damascus a number of times.
Therein we visited a Khan...an old rest house used by the caravans. This one had a large central courtyard with fountain and the rooms in corridors around the outside. Got me wondering, did the old caravan guys ever talk about their favourite Khans? Did Achmad's khan in damascus really have the best hummus, and was looked forward to once every 3 years?
Checked out the house/palace of the Ottomoan administrator. This was divided into two sections, one for business and one for family. It to was all about a central courtyard with fountain. This seems to be a repeated pattern, just a question scale. It's interesting how so many of these houses have tiny doors to the street and so much more space on the inside that from a narrow darkened door you would never guess existed.
We also wandered a number of covered souqs...basically a lot of stores.Given my minimal desire to buy anything, whatever.
And the showpiece of the place. The Ummayad Mosque. This jobby is huge and has plenty of fancy columns and artwork to please the eye. Zoe had to throw on a little hooded garment which she fell in love with. I, however was not fortunate enough to don special duds. Sigh, maybe someday.
Aside from that the old city is a lot of walking, a lot of questioning why a car feels the need to be there, etc. The cars do remind me that the city is still lived and in use. Yes there are restaurants and shops everywhere, but they are still very much part of a live in space.
And I will also mention here, the glory of the ISIC card. International Student Identity Card. Basically wqe've been using it for admissions and they tend to drop from 50 syrain pounds to 10, or once from 150 to 10. Very nice indeed.
The Al- Arabie hotel continues to be lovely...the water has been a bit finicky but whatever. The relaxed covered garden is aces. From there we have wandered the old city of Damascus a number of times.
Therein we visited a Khan...an old rest house used by the caravans. This one had a large central courtyard with fountain and the rooms in corridors around the outside. Got me wondering, did the old caravan guys ever talk about their favourite Khans? Did Achmad's khan in damascus really have the best hummus, and was looked forward to once every 3 years?
Checked out the house/palace of the Ottomoan administrator. This was divided into two sections, one for business and one for family. It to was all about a central courtyard with fountain. This seems to be a repeated pattern, just a question scale. It's interesting how so many of these houses have tiny doors to the street and so much more space on the inside that from a narrow darkened door you would never guess existed.
We also wandered a number of covered souqs...basically a lot of stores.Given my minimal desire to buy anything, whatever.
And the showpiece of the place. The Ummayad Mosque. This jobby is huge and has plenty of fancy columns and artwork to please the eye. Zoe had to throw on a little hooded garment which she fell in love with. I, however was not fortunate enough to don special duds. Sigh, maybe someday.
Aside from that the old city is a lot of walking, a lot of questioning why a car feels the need to be there, etc. The cars do remind me that the city is still lived and in use. Yes there are restaurants and shops everywhere, but they are still very much part of a live in space.
And I will also mention here, the glory of the ISIC card. International Student Identity Card. Basically wqe've been using it for admissions and they tend to drop from 50 syrain pounds to 10, or once from 150 to 10. Very nice indeed.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
stares
Also, I have decided to retire from stressing about whatever looks may or may not be directed at the various blond harlots I find myself walking around with from time to time.
I realized one day that I tend to glance at a periodic girl myself, maybe I bit more surreptitiously than the looks one normally sees here, but equivalent just the same. My looks are always welcomed (I think... right, maybe?), but I think the line is too fine so I have no right to criticize.
I realized one day that I tend to glance at a periodic girl myself, maybe I bit more surreptitiously than the looks one normally sees here, but equivalent just the same. My looks are always welcomed (I think... right, maybe?), but I think the line is too fine so I have no right to criticize.
ice cream???
In Jordan you hear the plaintive strains of an ice cream truck from time to time. Only trick is, it's actually the propane truck.
Nothing more to the story than that. Just amusing.
Nothing more to the story than that. Just amusing.
last meat in Jordan
I feel I should mention that my last sandwich that had meat in Jordan was an attempted shwarma that turned out to be liver and onions.
That first bite left no doubt and got rid of that pesky anemia.
That first bite left no doubt and got rid of that pesky anemia.
Syria
Woot!
Border went well, and I may have even been able to buy a visa there...meh, life is easier when it's already in your passport. Got to Damascus and ... hosed on the cab fare. Not the worst in the world, but a pain in the ass just the same. I talked him 'down' to about 5 times what we should have paid, but then he didn't have the right change and ... blech.
Very friend;y guy and the best part was he was busy negotiating all the drives he would take me on in the next few days while he was screwing me on the first one. Sure thing pal!!! Also, I really enjoyed when he was showing me his driver's license with his year of birth and asking for mine...are you sure you don't want to watch the road? No? Okay!
Like I said, a fine fellow to be sure.
Damascus, at least the immediate downtown seems super keen. Or at least fairly keen. There is a bit of a dearth of things to do (as awkwardly worded as that is). Mayhaps a place to relax more than site see, although the old city has plenty of that to do. The really weird thing about Dam. is because it is built on a plain there are straight roads and sightlines.
As I live and breath. I thought the hills of Amman were starting to wear on my mind a bit and I think I was right.
Already I have has a shwarma, tastes different than in Jordan, and found a store with a bunch of REALLY interesting maps of Syria. Maybe they were just for show??? Maybe they are for sale and I will soon be regretting my actions and also being poor. Mumkin.
This internet cafe is near the French cultural centre and there are some people chatting french in here. Maybe now is my time to start practicing. Or not.
Border went well, and I may have even been able to buy a visa there...meh, life is easier when it's already in your passport. Got to Damascus and ... hosed on the cab fare. Not the worst in the world, but a pain in the ass just the same. I talked him 'down' to about 5 times what we should have paid, but then he didn't have the right change and ... blech.
Very friend;y guy and the best part was he was busy negotiating all the drives he would take me on in the next few days while he was screwing me on the first one. Sure thing pal!!! Also, I really enjoyed when he was showing me his driver's license with his year of birth and asking for mine...are you sure you don't want to watch the road? No? Okay!
Like I said, a fine fellow to be sure.
Damascus, at least the immediate downtown seems super keen. Or at least fairly keen. There is a bit of a dearth of things to do (as awkwardly worded as that is). Mayhaps a place to relax more than site see, although the old city has plenty of that to do. The really weird thing about Dam. is because it is built on a plain there are straight roads and sightlines.
As I live and breath. I thought the hills of Amman were starting to wear on my mind a bit and I think I was right.
Already I have has a shwarma, tastes different than in Jordan, and found a store with a bunch of REALLY interesting maps of Syria. Maybe they were just for show??? Maybe they are for sale and I will soon be regretting my actions and also being poor. Mumkin.
This internet cafe is near the French cultural centre and there are some people chatting french in here. Maybe now is my time to start practicing. Or not.
Qalaat ar-Rabad and tea (of course)
So as planned on the last full day in Jordan we headed out to Ajloun to check out Qasr ar-Rabad. For those that were in Jordan previously and are now reading this (you know who you are) the bus system is THAT much easier on the weekdays. Holy crap were those little bastards moving out of the station in a hurry.
3 seconds out of the cab and we were on our way.
The castle was schwank, built with a smaller footprint than Karak it was more layers and ramps and stairs on top of itself. Very cool. As far as who wins in a fight a Crusader castle or a Islamic castle. Depends on the mountain I guess. They all seem pretty cool to me.
We were walking back to town to catch our bus back to Amman and as per usual were invited for coffee. We were politely declining until the guy said "we're not all Osama bin-Ladens" or something to that effect. Heh.
Jurious was the man's name and apparently he and the family were on the porch with ready made coffee because a nephew had been electrocuted at the Dead Sea a few days before and they were still accepting condolences. Ah-hah. Thanks for the invite! But as per usual they were great people.
Jurious, whose name means George (like the saint...although at first I thought he was sayiong jurious like curious like curious george) was very interested in explaioning that most Muslims in Jordan are top notch, it's just the fundamentalists that are bad news. They have too many kids and are therefore able to take charge in elections and control a great number of seats in parliament. Interesting. He told us all sorts of stuff, like how lots of Jordanians now in US and Canada tend to come back to get their dental work done and even with the flight they're still only at 20%. What a deal!
After tea we bid farewell and got on a bus for Amman. A bus featuring an artist who told me I had a beautiful face, and then told Zoe she had one and then drew her portrait as we weaved and wobbled and ground gears through the mountains of northern Jordan.
Nice picture...looks very minimally like Zoe, but a nice picture to be sure.
And that...I think that's all I have to say about Jordan. (for now)
3 seconds out of the cab and we were on our way.
The castle was schwank, built with a smaller footprint than Karak it was more layers and ramps and stairs on top of itself. Very cool. As far as who wins in a fight a Crusader castle or a Islamic castle. Depends on the mountain I guess. They all seem pretty cool to me.
We were walking back to town to catch our bus back to Amman and as per usual were invited for coffee. We were politely declining until the guy said "we're not all Osama bin-Ladens" or something to that effect. Heh.
Jurious was the man's name and apparently he and the family were on the porch with ready made coffee because a nephew had been electrocuted at the Dead Sea a few days before and they were still accepting condolences. Ah-hah. Thanks for the invite! But as per usual they were great people.
Jurious, whose name means George (like the saint...although at first I thought he was sayiong jurious like curious like curious george) was very interested in explaioning that most Muslims in Jordan are top notch, it's just the fundamentalists that are bad news. They have too many kids and are therefore able to take charge in elections and control a great number of seats in parliament. Interesting. He told us all sorts of stuff, like how lots of Jordanians now in US and Canada tend to come back to get their dental work done and even with the flight they're still only at 20%. What a deal!
After tea we bid farewell and got on a bus for Amman. A bus featuring an artist who told me I had a beautiful face, and then told Zoe she had one and then drew her portrait as we weaved and wobbled and ground gears through the mountains of northern Jordan.
Nice picture...looks very minimally like Zoe, but a nice picture to be sure.
And that...I think that's all I have to say about Jordan. (for now)
Monday, June 23, 2008
guidebooks
And I'll just throw this in...I'm much more comfortable with the idea of using a guidebook this time around.
I guess I'm not trying to prove myself (as much) or I'm more confident or something. Or maybe it's because as long as I don't wear a tan vest with the LP guide in hand I won't look too goofy.
I'm sure he's a wonderful person and a tremendous traveller, and mocking him only belittles me, but what's done is done.
I guess I'm not trying to prove myself (as much) or I'm more confident or something. Or maybe it's because as long as I don't wear a tan vest with the LP guide in hand I won't look too goofy.
I'm sure he's a wonderful person and a tremendous traveller, and mocking him only belittles me, but what's done is done.
...next
We haven't figured out how we're going to Damascus, but it will happen on Wednesday. That is one thing we know for sure!
(bus or service taxi, not a big deal).
Tomorrow though is up in the air. I decided not to bother with the desert castles to the east of AMman, but there is a castle up north near Ajloun that I might want to check out. It's an Islamic castle, built by Salah-ha Din's nephew or son or something, rather than the Crusader castles that were subsequently altered that I have seen thus far.
The town itself is just past Jerash and I think getting there will require a similar series of tricks (ie bus station, local bus etc.) something I'm fairly confident with. So maybe that for tomorrow.
Then off to Syria Wednesday.
Damascus then likely Palmyra, Homs (or more likely the city north of it that has big cool waterwheels), Krak de Chevaliers (now that's a castle!), Lattakia on teh coast then Aleppo before rocking and rolling all the way to Istanbul. Maybe bus, maybe train, maybe we shall see. I think that's enough writing for me. I know I keep saying I'll start doing this more often, and maybe some day I will. And the you'll get to read the really incisive, thoughtful commentary.
(bus or service taxi, not a big deal).
Tomorrow though is up in the air. I decided not to bother with the desert castles to the east of AMman, but there is a castle up north near Ajloun that I might want to check out. It's an Islamic castle, built by Salah-ha Din's nephew or son or something, rather than the Crusader castles that were subsequently altered that I have seen thus far.
The town itself is just past Jerash and I think getting there will require a similar series of tricks (ie bus station, local bus etc.) something I'm fairly confident with. So maybe that for tomorrow.
Then off to Syria Wednesday.
Damascus then likely Palmyra, Homs (or more likely the city north of it that has big cool waterwheels), Krak de Chevaliers (now that's a castle!), Lattakia on teh coast then Aleppo before rocking and rolling all the way to Istanbul. Maybe bus, maybe train, maybe we shall see. I think that's enough writing for me. I know I keep saying I'll start doing this more often, and maybe some day I will. And the you'll get to read the really incisive, thoughtful commentary.
Amman history
So basically there are 4 or 5 million people in Amman today. Originally built on 7 hills it's now on a whole bunch more. Some edges tend to sprawl farther than others, but apparently a lot of its growth is simply due to the fact it has now connected to the Palestinian refugee camps and suburbs that surround it.
In 1948 there was only 30 000 people here and that jumped to 250 000 by 1960. Crazy! A part of that is Palestinian but apparently people tend to have more kids generally these days and for Amman's specific case a lot of people who formerly lived Bedouiny, nomadic or small town lives, have simply moved to the city.
Seeing the pictures of Amman around the Roman Theatre (I think they were 1920s ish) was cool. There was one or two houses behind, where now it's a wall.
Wandering the city I've also been noticing a distinct French Cambodian feel to the place. Now the French protectorates were Syria and Lebanon, but maybe their art deco influence managed to subtly wander down here as well? Or maybe it's just because I'm reading a book about Pol Pot (almost done Kristin, thanks) and it's hot out? Who knows.
Whtever the case. Amman is alright. And I actually do feel better about it now that I had an out and about day with lots of clambering. Do I want to live here? Mumkin, but I'd need to get a wicked apartment on a hill. That would be key, for both air quality and noise levels. I could see it. But I can see anything when I have some books to read and some other ones to write in.
In 1948 there was only 30 000 people here and that jumped to 250 000 by 1960. Crazy! A part of that is Palestinian but apparently people tend to have more kids generally these days and for Amman's specific case a lot of people who formerly lived Bedouiny, nomadic or small town lives, have simply moved to the city.
Seeing the pictures of Amman around the Roman Theatre (I think they were 1920s ish) was cool. There was one or two houses behind, where now it's a wall.
Wandering the city I've also been noticing a distinct French Cambodian feel to the place. Now the French protectorates were Syria and Lebanon, but maybe their art deco influence managed to subtly wander down here as well? Or maybe it's just because I'm reading a book about Pol Pot (almost done Kristin, thanks) and it's hot out? Who knows.
Whtever the case. Amman is alright. And I actually do feel better about it now that I had an out and about day with lots of clambering. Do I want to live here? Mumkin, but I'd need to get a wicked apartment on a hill. That would be key, for both air quality and noise levels. I could see it. But I can see anything when I have some books to read and some other ones to write in.
Amman
Mercy...tired...hopefully you're following along alright.
Bus from Karak to Amman went smoothly. We grabbed a cab from the station. The guy wanted a 4JD fair, but we said meter. He said okay, but gas prices are going up so itll be 4 JD. At the end of the ride the meter said 1.400JD so I paid that and he kept asking for 4, although he might have switched to 2 at one point. While he was asking for that he was also writing his number and name on a piece of paper if we needed his services further and Zoe was unloading the trunk. All very confusing, but our bags were out of the back, he was paid what he was owed and we found a room for 4JD a pop at teh CLiff Hotel. PERFECT!
I've spent a lot of time not doing too much in Amman. Just napping and sleeping and watching soccer that's playing in a restaurant across the alley from our room. It's too far to make much our I spend most of my time trying to guess which teams are playing and why the Jordanians might be cheering for one team over another. They LOVE the Russians.
We tried to find Indiana Jones at a move theatre here yesterday and we found the two theatres, but neither was playing Indy. Apparently he's at the uptown theatre...maybe when I'm back home, although it would have been fun to see it here.
I've been having a weird sensation of being trapped in Amman the last few days. Not stuck, but physically enclosed. I have two theories around this. The first one is Zoe. She doesn't want it, and I'm not consciously doing it, but there's a degree of protection I feel the need to provide here. Even if it's just looks I find myself responding to them or moving in front of them...my ass is nicer anyway. Zoe (and Kristin and other girls on the dig I assume) tend to ignore the looks altogether. They're going to happen so why get worked up about them? So this was one thought I had. Zoe was going up to University of Jordan in the north of Amman today, so if that was the cause maybe it is out of my system now.
The other possible cause is the geography of the city itself. Amman is built onto hills and tends to sprawl. The sprawl isn't a big deal, but the hills throw a wrench in my traditional wanderings. Look at a map and you think you have an idea where you're going, until you run into a mountain and realize that those two roads that are very close and parallel are actually separated by the ol' 50 foot vertical drop. As a result until today I found myself restricted to the valley floor.
But TODAY! I made a decision to walk over some mountains. And I did. There are lots of staircases about that you just need to look for and just been willing to sweat a bit (and tighten your glutes) allows you to save time and escape the geography of the mountains, if only for a minute. My wanderings took me to the bus station, then the Iraqi embassy before scaling another of the hills to find the Abu Darwish Mosque. It's a neat striped black and white dealy. I saw a big set of squares when I was on the other side of the valley, tracked them to where I thought they'd be but could find them so wandered up one of teh twisting roads instead. I asked questions, found the mosque and inevitably found my way back down a set of stairs...the very ones I was looking for before, that started 3 feet to the left of where I had turned right. Oh well.
As an added benefit some little kids whose mum ran a shop half way down the stairs harangued me, gave me a pop and demanded I take their picture. Good times.
So I am now tired, but more pleased about myself because I didn't sit in my room all day and read. I walked...and read outside the British Council building...or thereabouts.
That reminds me! I started my day at an arts centre/gallery/cafe. Built above some Byzantine church ruins, above it sits some old houses, one of which TE Lawrence wrote 7 Pillars of Wisdom in. Very fun. It must have been a fairly solitary writing experience, judging by some pictures of old Amman i was looking at the other day...a new post methinks.
Bus from Karak to Amman went smoothly. We grabbed a cab from the station. The guy wanted a 4JD fair, but we said meter. He said okay, but gas prices are going up so itll be 4 JD. At the end of the ride the meter said 1.400JD so I paid that and he kept asking for 4, although he might have switched to 2 at one point. While he was asking for that he was also writing his number and name on a piece of paper if we needed his services further and Zoe was unloading the trunk. All very confusing, but our bags were out of the back, he was paid what he was owed and we found a room for 4JD a pop at teh CLiff Hotel. PERFECT!
I've spent a lot of time not doing too much in Amman. Just napping and sleeping and watching soccer that's playing in a restaurant across the alley from our room. It's too far to make much our I spend most of my time trying to guess which teams are playing and why the Jordanians might be cheering for one team over another. They LOVE the Russians.
We tried to find Indiana Jones at a move theatre here yesterday and we found the two theatres, but neither was playing Indy. Apparently he's at the uptown theatre...maybe when I'm back home, although it would have been fun to see it here.
I've been having a weird sensation of being trapped in Amman the last few days. Not stuck, but physically enclosed. I have two theories around this. The first one is Zoe. She doesn't want it, and I'm not consciously doing it, but there's a degree of protection I feel the need to provide here. Even if it's just looks I find myself responding to them or moving in front of them...my ass is nicer anyway. Zoe (and Kristin and other girls on the dig I assume) tend to ignore the looks altogether. They're going to happen so why get worked up about them? So this was one thought I had. Zoe was going up to University of Jordan in the north of Amman today, so if that was the cause maybe it is out of my system now.
The other possible cause is the geography of the city itself. Amman is built onto hills and tends to sprawl. The sprawl isn't a big deal, but the hills throw a wrench in my traditional wanderings. Look at a map and you think you have an idea where you're going, until you run into a mountain and realize that those two roads that are very close and parallel are actually separated by the ol' 50 foot vertical drop. As a result until today I found myself restricted to the valley floor.
But TODAY! I made a decision to walk over some mountains. And I did. There are lots of staircases about that you just need to look for and just been willing to sweat a bit (and tighten your glutes) allows you to save time and escape the geography of the mountains, if only for a minute. My wanderings took me to the bus station, then the Iraqi embassy before scaling another of the hills to find the Abu Darwish Mosque. It's a neat striped black and white dealy. I saw a big set of squares when I was on the other side of the valley, tracked them to where I thought they'd be but could find them so wandered up one of teh twisting roads instead. I asked questions, found the mosque and inevitably found my way back down a set of stairs...the very ones I was looking for before, that started 3 feet to the left of where I had turned right. Oh well.
As an added benefit some little kids whose mum ran a shop half way down the stairs harangued me, gave me a pop and demanded I take their picture. Good times.
So I am now tired, but more pleased about myself because I didn't sit in my room all day and read. I walked...and read outside the British Council building...or thereabouts.
That reminds me! I started my day at an arts centre/gallery/cafe. Built above some Byzantine church ruins, above it sits some old houses, one of which TE Lawrence wrote 7 Pillars of Wisdom in. Very fun. It must have been a fairly solitary writing experience, judging by some pictures of old Amman i was looking at the other day...a new post methinks.
Karak hospitality
Zoe and I were enjoying the Karak evening, noting the distinct lack of tourists about...my guess is they come in via bus for the castle and are gone again quickly. The town was lovely, people playing soccer in the square, a carnival we had noticed earlier springing into action...and tires flying down a hill.
Let me explain. The carnival is on a valley, ie the top end of the valley has been filled in, but at the edge of the fill is a very steep hill that goes down and at the bottom of which there sits a huge pile of tires. Hmmmmm? Until we saw that people must drop off old tires adjacent to the carnival where kids pick them up, roll them to the edge, then race those mothers down.
I was high above watching from Karak and I was deeply satisfied by the karams (sp?) and richochets here there and everywhere. AMAZING.
But this is all a side note, we climbed a tower and when looking at the glorious hills rolling into the distance a guy down below waved, yelled picture and posed in an amusing manner. Sure I figured...he then offered us tea, sure we figured, so we scrambled down the tower and around to meet Ali and Nabid.
Now when I say Karak is on a hill, I really mean it. We are talking STEEP edges and the location we'd been invited down to was that. From Nabid's house to where we sat probably 40 vertical feet, and maybe 10 horizontal...maybe. I don't know ratios, but it was steep. As far as I could tell Nabid and Ali are best buds and have themselves a little goat BBQ every friday night back there. They had some meat left over and it was delicious. Nabid owns a shoe store and Ali I think works there, but is also a kickboxer and wants to go to Canada to work.
Before long various relatives appeared. Nabid's dad, speaking on rich Jews, poor Jordanians, all of us as one people and a strange interest in how much we were paying to travel and the Turkish gold that is supposedly everywhere in Karak (if you have the right "lamp"??? to find it), a bunch of his brothers, a brother in law with his kids, etc etc. We drank delcious mint tea, smoked a bit of nargila and eventually moved things indoors. Had some coffee, some yoghurt drink, Zoe got shiipped off to the women and then hung out some more.
At some point in my convo they asked about our marriage and I slipped up and said we weren't....but soon, I swear. And she was yammering on about this and that (dad you're a farmer now). We've decided to just be engaged from now on. Somehow that should be easier to lie about. Especially since she still doesn't have a ring.
Without getting into all the things we talked about, and all the moments of silence in between, the visit was amazing. A classic "I went to Jordan and they were so hospitable" story.
But, really the whole thing made me uncomfortable after a point. The brother who was a doctor assured me I should contact him if I needed anything while I was in Jordan. The dad had us invited to stay the night pretty soon into the whole affair and everyone was just super kind. When we finally got out of there around 11 (after I'd tried once before, but another round of tea was already on the way) they wanted us to stay for food.
Crazy.
Maybe part of my apprehension stems from the little lies around me and Zoe. Trying to respect their culture makes me lie, but I guess it's inappropriate for me to be touring around with my friend, so we have to tell the tale. And I get all their details etc. and if I come back here I'd love to get in touch again, but then I have to explain what has happened to Zoe. Yarrgh.
Whatever. It was a wonderful experience, that has way too many details for me to recount fully here.
I'll just say Ali is an interesting fellow, big and bearded, a kick bozer or karate guy as mentioned, and the 'moon of karak' according to one of the guys. Undeniable charisma and no english, a fine fellow...but I also got the feeling that whenever they mentioned Ali wants to go to Canada or the US to work, i WAS meant to say "I can help with that". ALas I cannot.
Let me explain. The carnival is on a valley, ie the top end of the valley has been filled in, but at the edge of the fill is a very steep hill that goes down and at the bottom of which there sits a huge pile of tires. Hmmmmm? Until we saw that people must drop off old tires adjacent to the carnival where kids pick them up, roll them to the edge, then race those mothers down.
I was high above watching from Karak and I was deeply satisfied by the karams (sp?) and richochets here there and everywhere. AMAZING.
But this is all a side note, we climbed a tower and when looking at the glorious hills rolling into the distance a guy down below waved, yelled picture and posed in an amusing manner. Sure I figured...he then offered us tea, sure we figured, so we scrambled down the tower and around to meet Ali and Nabid.
Now when I say Karak is on a hill, I really mean it. We are talking STEEP edges and the location we'd been invited down to was that. From Nabid's house to where we sat probably 40 vertical feet, and maybe 10 horizontal...maybe. I don't know ratios, but it was steep. As far as I could tell Nabid and Ali are best buds and have themselves a little goat BBQ every friday night back there. They had some meat left over and it was delicious. Nabid owns a shoe store and Ali I think works there, but is also a kickboxer and wants to go to Canada to work.
Before long various relatives appeared. Nabid's dad, speaking on rich Jews, poor Jordanians, all of us as one people and a strange interest in how much we were paying to travel and the Turkish gold that is supposedly everywhere in Karak (if you have the right "lamp"??? to find it), a bunch of his brothers, a brother in law with his kids, etc etc. We drank delcious mint tea, smoked a bit of nargila and eventually moved things indoors. Had some coffee, some yoghurt drink, Zoe got shiipped off to the women and then hung out some more.
At some point in my convo they asked about our marriage and I slipped up and said we weren't....but soon, I swear. And she was yammering on about this and that (dad you're a farmer now). We've decided to just be engaged from now on. Somehow that should be easier to lie about. Especially since she still doesn't have a ring.
Without getting into all the things we talked about, and all the moments of silence in between, the visit was amazing. A classic "I went to Jordan and they were so hospitable" story.
But, really the whole thing made me uncomfortable after a point. The brother who was a doctor assured me I should contact him if I needed anything while I was in Jordan. The dad had us invited to stay the night pretty soon into the whole affair and everyone was just super kind. When we finally got out of there around 11 (after I'd tried once before, but another round of tea was already on the way) they wanted us to stay for food.
Crazy.
Maybe part of my apprehension stems from the little lies around me and Zoe. Trying to respect their culture makes me lie, but I guess it's inappropriate for me to be touring around with my friend, so we have to tell the tale. And I get all their details etc. and if I come back here I'd love to get in touch again, but then I have to explain what has happened to Zoe. Yarrgh.
Whatever. It was a wonderful experience, that has way too many details for me to recount fully here.
I'll just say Ali is an interesting fellow, big and bearded, a kick bozer or karate guy as mentioned, and the 'moon of karak' according to one of the guys. Undeniable charisma and no english, a fine fellow...but I also got the feeling that whenever they mentioned Ali wants to go to Canada or the US to work, i WAS meant to say "I can help with that". ALas I cannot.
Sweet monkey piss
Let's start with some details and then I can move on to some in depth loving of the world and all its intricacies if I see fit.
First of all, when I last left you the plan was to leave on Thursday, but without much encouragement we changed that to Friday giving one more day to mentally prepare for whatever was ahead. So on Friday we were off an running, or stumbling under weight of packs as the case may be. We hauled our asses to the bis station (the one just for Karak) and snagged two seats. Unfortunately, because our bags were placed on seats of their own we were charged for 4. NO biggy, but they were only there because the guy suggested it. The bus would have been full either way, so he wasn't scamming. I assume he just thought we'd want our bags there. Next time, it's aisle or bust!!!!
Found a place to stay in Karak with a super fellow just outside the castle and after a brief wander we hit up the reason to be in Karak, Karak Castle.
A specimen of Crusader castle technology, this sweety was nailed by Salah-al Din and his boys and was eventually taken over and added on to by the Mamlukes. Lots of fun all around. Tonnes of long galleries and underground tunnels, battlements to climb etc. And the position of both the castle and the town, literally perched atop a hill, is something pretty sweet.
That evening we wandered the town a bit, went to Delicious Meal cafe and wanted shwarma...as seems to happena lot on Friday nights they were out and were packing up, but they had felaffel. That sounded alright. Zoe wanted fries so we ordered some of those too. Somehow that meant felaffel sandwich in a pita and fries...in a pita. Hilarious but delicious, and the combo, with a marinda in a glass bottle made for a wicked photo op.
More wanders and then...and even for another post!
First of all, when I last left you the plan was to leave on Thursday, but without much encouragement we changed that to Friday giving one more day to mentally prepare for whatever was ahead. So on Friday we were off an running, or stumbling under weight of packs as the case may be. We hauled our asses to the bis station (the one just for Karak) and snagged two seats. Unfortunately, because our bags were placed on seats of their own we were charged for 4. NO biggy, but they were only there because the guy suggested it. The bus would have been full either way, so he wasn't scamming. I assume he just thought we'd want our bags there. Next time, it's aisle or bust!!!!
Found a place to stay in Karak with a super fellow just outside the castle and after a brief wander we hit up the reason to be in Karak, Karak Castle.
A specimen of Crusader castle technology, this sweety was nailed by Salah-al Din and his boys and was eventually taken over and added on to by the Mamlukes. Lots of fun all around. Tonnes of long galleries and underground tunnels, battlements to climb etc. And the position of both the castle and the town, literally perched atop a hill, is something pretty sweet.
That evening we wandered the town a bit, went to Delicious Meal cafe and wanted shwarma...as seems to happena lot on Friday nights they were out and were packing up, but they had felaffel. That sounded alright. Zoe wanted fries so we ordered some of those too. Somehow that meant felaffel sandwich in a pita and fries...in a pita. Hilarious but delicious, and the combo, with a marinda in a glass bottle made for a wicked photo op.
More wanders and then...and even for another post!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
next year
and in case I haven't mentioned it yet...
I found out I'll be based in Rodez France next year, and that should just be lovely. A city just a bit bigger than Owen Sound but way more history and invasions and ROmans and 100 Years War and Popes and Visigoths and big old walls and general good times. So that should be good.
Then if I get invited back to Jordan next year and I want to go, I figure I'll go south through France and hit up Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya and Egypt on my way back here. Then Kristin and I figure catching the train from Moscow to Beijing might be a good time.
We shall see.
I found out I'll be based in Rodez France next year, and that should just be lovely. A city just a bit bigger than Owen Sound but way more history and invasions and ROmans and 100 Years War and Popes and Visigoths and big old walls and general good times. So that should be good.
Then if I get invited back to Jordan next year and I want to go, I figure I'll go south through France and hit up Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya and Egypt on my way back here. Then Kristin and I figure catching the train from Moscow to Beijing might be a good time.
We shall see.
Thoughts and goings
So with all the work done, once again I'm about to hit the road. This time with Zoe, my friend who I lived with at school this past year. Should be giggles.
As usual there is a degree of anticipation and nervousness that I always feel when I'm about to embark. Where will I be staying, what will I be eating, etc. And the relaxed life of Shokini hotel apartments has quite pleasant, AC'd afternoon naps are always a good time. There wasn't much time to just sit around and chat with people over the course of the dig. A little too much paperwork and desire to sleep for that, and it would be nice to have a day or two of that, but alas. Such things are not to be.
I've met some good people on this trip, some that I'll keep in touch with more than others, been annoyed by some people, wondered if I was so confusing when I was 18, and generally pondered the existence of humanity. Basically time well spent.
And tomorrow I catch a bus to Karak to see a cool crusader castle then to Amman and after a few days there onto Syria and Turkey. Giggles.
As usual there is a degree of anticipation and nervousness that I always feel when I'm about to embark. Where will I be staying, what will I be eating, etc. And the relaxed life of Shokini hotel apartments has quite pleasant, AC'd afternoon naps are always a good time. There wasn't much time to just sit around and chat with people over the course of the dig. A little too much paperwork and desire to sleep for that, and it would be nice to have a day or two of that, but alas. Such things are not to be.
I've met some good people on this trip, some that I'll keep in touch with more than others, been annoyed by some people, wondered if I was so confusing when I was 18, and generally pondered the existence of humanity. Basically time well spent.
And tomorrow I catch a bus to Karak to see a cool crusader castle then to Amman and after a few days there onto Syria and Turkey. Giggles.
archaeology
Who knows anymore.
Turns out I'm hella wicked with a fas kabir and craig and am able to move about two cubic metres of dirt before second breakfast when I put my mind to it.
I can also rock the show when it comes to baulk drawings. Meh. I really shouldn't brag...or take the time to explain what that entails. Well okay, it's basically measuring everything out carefully and drawing the stratigraphy of all the wonderful
trenches we dug.
I may have found some sort of 2.6m wide compacted earth track and I guess that's something, but mostly I just moved dirt. And worked out...but I managed to eat so much I am now obese. Heh. Well that's a lie, but I did eat a hell of a lot at every meal (good food in abundance = stuffy times), but it gave me the energy to rock the show so I shouldn't complain.
Because I could only get 3 of my 4 baulk drawings done on my last day on site I had to go back two days later on 'back fill day'. This is basically the Bedouin running around in a pack with wheelbarrows and shovels and dumping everything we moved out of holes back in. Basically protect some of the things we found, and make so that any child, goat or vehicle that might come by won't be too seriously damaged or at least has the chance to escape. Thrilling stuff. Also a very interesting day to watch the Bedouin work dynamic.
Many of them I would not call the keenest workers in the world...as great a senetence as that is. But when they're all together and there's a set job (you go home when it's done kind of thing) one would assume a certain certainty in purpose. Instead what you get is them arriving en masse at a specific site that needs to be filled, they then frantically go to work hauling dirt into arbayas (barrows) and dumping it into holes....sometimes along with the arbayas onto fragile mud brick walls. Oops. But that only lasts about 20 minutes, then you see one or two lounging on the dirt pile, then the arbayas slow down, then suddenly everyone is sityting and there is chai all over the place.
Inevitably a cheerful fellow will come up to one of the white folks to confirm that they've done a good job and they are in fact done. They're always shocked when they're not. In this case I think doubly so because all morning they were were with a staff member who is at times more interested in being friends than being a task master. Whatever the case...it was all done eventually.
I was a more than a bit grumpy, given I was working on my reports until late the day before and very tired as a result. Then when things weren't getting done, well being the hero that I am I single handedly moved 456,000 tonnes of earth. Or thereabouts. Whatever. Once the work was done I became less grumpy, hopped on the bus after much handshaking and cheek kissing and was headed back to Aqaba.
Everything archaeological is now done. My report is submitted and hopefully I'll get invited back next year. Don't know if I'll be in the mood then but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.
Turns out I'm hella wicked with a fas kabir and craig and am able to move about two cubic metres of dirt before second breakfast when I put my mind to it.
I can also rock the show when it comes to baulk drawings. Meh. I really shouldn't brag...or take the time to explain what that entails. Well okay, it's basically measuring everything out carefully and drawing the stratigraphy of all the wonderful
trenches we dug.
I may have found some sort of 2.6m wide compacted earth track and I guess that's something, but mostly I just moved dirt. And worked out...but I managed to eat so much I am now obese. Heh. Well that's a lie, but I did eat a hell of a lot at every meal (good food in abundance = stuffy times), but it gave me the energy to rock the show so I shouldn't complain.
Because I could only get 3 of my 4 baulk drawings done on my last day on site I had to go back two days later on 'back fill day'. This is basically the Bedouin running around in a pack with wheelbarrows and shovels and dumping everything we moved out of holes back in. Basically protect some of the things we found, and make so that any child, goat or vehicle that might come by won't be too seriously damaged or at least has the chance to escape. Thrilling stuff. Also a very interesting day to watch the Bedouin work dynamic.
Many of them I would not call the keenest workers in the world...as great a senetence as that is. But when they're all together and there's a set job (you go home when it's done kind of thing) one would assume a certain certainty in purpose. Instead what you get is them arriving en masse at a specific site that needs to be filled, they then frantically go to work hauling dirt into arbayas (barrows) and dumping it into holes....sometimes along with the arbayas onto fragile mud brick walls. Oops. But that only lasts about 20 minutes, then you see one or two lounging on the dirt pile, then the arbayas slow down, then suddenly everyone is sityting and there is chai all over the place.
Inevitably a cheerful fellow will come up to one of the white folks to confirm that they've done a good job and they are in fact done. They're always shocked when they're not. In this case I think doubly so because all morning they were were with a staff member who is at times more interested in being friends than being a task master. Whatever the case...it was all done eventually.
I was a more than a bit grumpy, given I was working on my reports until late the day before and very tired as a result. Then when things weren't getting done, well being the hero that I am I single handedly moved 456,000 tonnes of earth. Or thereabouts. Whatever. Once the work was done I became less grumpy, hopped on the bus after much handshaking and cheek kissing and was headed back to Aqaba.
Everything archaeological is now done. My report is submitted and hopefully I'll get invited back next year. Don't know if I'll be in the mood then but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.
once again...
Once again I have waited too long between internet visits.
Once again the cafe is hot and uncomfortable.
Once again things are at an end.
Once again travelling is at a beginning.
Once again I will soldier on and write some blog entries.
The adoring masses desire, nay demand, such efforts be put forth. As it is wished, so it shall be done.
Once again the cafe is hot and uncomfortable.
Once again things are at an end.
Once again travelling is at a beginning.
Once again I will soldier on and write some blog entries.
The adoring masses desire, nay demand, such efforts be put forth. As it is wished, so it shall be done.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
blarrghy blarggherson
Work. Woot.
I think I'm a decent leader. Or at least this is what I have decided. The Bedouin seem to like me and generally don't mind working when I ask. I think my tendency to enjoy a good sit down as much (or more) than the next guy must have a beneficial effect on our relationship. There are some tensions with the other white folks and not as many with me, and I therefore assume this makes me awesome.
We're still digging lots of trenches looking for the road or something approximating it and it turns out I'm quite an apt hand with a fas kabir (big pick). The Bedouin are always telling me to shway shway (basically chill out) I think because they know me smashiong through 6 cubic meters of soil means more shovelling for them.
Aside from that what else is there to say. Last 'weekend' was for napping, but I feel I may have written my previous entry on the weekend.
Paperwork begins shortly. Given the simplicity of most of my squares (rectangle in the sand....) these shouldn't take too long. I do have quite a few that need to be dealt with, however, so I should probably get on it sooner than later. Maybe tonight. Maybe.
Oh I did ride a camel today. His name is Boyman and both he and his owner Salim are fine individuals. Top notch. Fairly easy to ride, if a little focused on the ol' crotcheroo when the camel is doing its lean forward leg bending awkwardness so you can get off. A wonderful lope to their stride that ends up making your head bob as you cruise along.
Sorry if this is a bit disjointed, but I'm listening to a touch of DragonForce as I type. Nothing like some folk metal about swords and evil armies and shit to get you in a topper mood.
Aside from that it's been a lot of wandering Aqaba, taking pictures of Chinese massage parlors, chatting with people and doing far too many exertive (there's a new word) things in the heat. Maybe I should follow the lead of the locals? Maybe, but they're here forever and I'm almost done.
I think I'm a decent leader. Or at least this is what I have decided. The Bedouin seem to like me and generally don't mind working when I ask. I think my tendency to enjoy a good sit down as much (or more) than the next guy must have a beneficial effect on our relationship. There are some tensions with the other white folks and not as many with me, and I therefore assume this makes me awesome.
We're still digging lots of trenches looking for the road or something approximating it and it turns out I'm quite an apt hand with a fas kabir (big pick). The Bedouin are always telling me to shway shway (basically chill out) I think because they know me smashiong through 6 cubic meters of soil means more shovelling for them.
Aside from that what else is there to say. Last 'weekend' was for napping, but I feel I may have written my previous entry on the weekend.
Paperwork begins shortly. Given the simplicity of most of my squares (rectangle in the sand....) these shouldn't take too long. I do have quite a few that need to be dealt with, however, so I should probably get on it sooner than later. Maybe tonight. Maybe.
Oh I did ride a camel today. His name is Boyman and both he and his owner Salim are fine individuals. Top notch. Fairly easy to ride, if a little focused on the ol' crotcheroo when the camel is doing its lean forward leg bending awkwardness so you can get off. A wonderful lope to their stride that ends up making your head bob as you cruise along.
Sorry if this is a bit disjointed, but I'm listening to a touch of DragonForce as I type. Nothing like some folk metal about swords and evil armies and shit to get you in a topper mood.
Aside from that it's been a lot of wandering Aqaba, taking pictures of Chinese massage parlors, chatting with people and doing far too many exertive (there's a new word) things in the heat. Maybe I should follow the lead of the locals? Maybe, but they're here forever and I'm almost done.
Friday, June 06, 2008
Just another week at shogul
So after all the excitement of last weekend, this weekend is more about naps and relaxing. Or at least today is, we're back on the one day weekend.
This past week at work (work=shogul, but I think it's more a verb/command than a noun judging byu how we use it with the Bedouin) was okay, but I was TIRED every day. Probably because of the heat, never quite being able to get enough/catch up on sleep and always finding something to distract me just before I crash out early.
Meh, whatever. I also think it might have something to do with the particularly mindless nature of my search for the road. There is no road as far as I'm concerned, at least not one we have found yet. The supposed road surface looks like a natural surface that stretches forever and one which I have exposed in repeated one metre wide, 6 metre long trenches all over the desert. Maybe an intersection? Maybe a parade square? Mumkin mumkin mumkin (mumkin=maybe). I shouldn't say just me, Swaylem and Ra'ad have been equally involved and are getting equally bored and frustrated. You wouldn't think being able to dust off some shitty brick would bring you joy or mental relief, but it's better than dusting off yet another arbitrary layer of hard packed soil before hacking through it another 10-15cm with the fas kabir (big pick).
It's alright.
I learned a cool Bedouin board game called seeja. I ;love how there are so many things you can do when all you have is a lot of sand and some different coloured pebbles. Without going to much into it, we're talking some ruiles similar to checkers but some real intense concentration required ... expecially when they set up the 7x7 board.
Also, I was told there's a car in Saudi called James. Really I said and Swaylem then proceeded to spell GMC in the sand. Lovely.
Lots continues to happen but it's the day to day kind of stuff and this time I have people to talk to about it so I don't tend to maintain my 'next blog' notes as extensively as in the past.
Soon I'll be hitting the road to Syria and Turkey and myabe Zoe will tell me to shut up...and if THAT happens there'll be blogs all over the place.
And don't forget (crass request for currency deleted).
This past week at work (work=shogul, but I think it's more a verb/command than a noun judging byu how we use it with the Bedouin) was okay, but I was TIRED every day. Probably because of the heat, never quite being able to get enough/catch up on sleep and always finding something to distract me just before I crash out early.
Meh, whatever. I also think it might have something to do with the particularly mindless nature of my search for the road. There is no road as far as I'm concerned, at least not one we have found yet. The supposed road surface looks like a natural surface that stretches forever and one which I have exposed in repeated one metre wide, 6 metre long trenches all over the desert. Maybe an intersection? Maybe a parade square? Mumkin mumkin mumkin (mumkin=maybe). I shouldn't say just me, Swaylem and Ra'ad have been equally involved and are getting equally bored and frustrated. You wouldn't think being able to dust off some shitty brick would bring you joy or mental relief, but it's better than dusting off yet another arbitrary layer of hard packed soil before hacking through it another 10-15cm with the fas kabir (big pick).
It's alright.
I learned a cool Bedouin board game called seeja. I ;love how there are so many things you can do when all you have is a lot of sand and some different coloured pebbles. Without going to much into it, we're talking some ruiles similar to checkers but some real intense concentration required ... expecially when they set up the 7x7 board.
Also, I was told there's a car in Saudi called James. Really I said and Swaylem then proceeded to spell GMC in the sand. Lovely.
Lots continues to happen but it's the day to day kind of stuff and this time I have people to talk to about it so I don't tend to maintain my 'next blog' notes as extensively as in the past.
Soon I'll be hitting the road to Syria and Turkey and myabe Zoe will tell me to shut up...and if THAT happens there'll be blogs all over the place.
And don't forget (crass request for currency deleted).
detritus
So it turns out when I've been yammering on about detrius for all these years I was just making up a word.
That's cool I guess.
I suppose this means I actually mean the detritus of time (thanks mum) but I'm hesitant to let go of my old word. Maybe language is ever evolving and I should just try and foist my new word onto the world.
That sounds about right.
That's cool I guess.
I suppose this means I actually mean the detritus of time (thanks mum) but I'm hesitant to let go of my old word. Maybe language is ever evolving and I should just try and foist my new word onto the world.
That sounds about right.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
It's been a while
Once again I lack the desire to write extensive posts. So tired. But so much has been happening.
We went out and about with one of our Bedouin workers, Ibrahim. He lives in New HUmayma and so it was a bit different than the experience we had camping. We hung out a lot in the 'men's' room, whihc was a big rectangle with lots of lounging couches, ate various delicious foods and drank various delicious teas and coffees.
Then we toured around the desert in a Toyota Hilux, checking out verious ancient cisterns and rock formations (rock bridge!) and generally enjoying one another's company. Pleasant all around. In the evening we had Mansaaf, a delicious but very intense Jordanian dish. Often made with lamb, this version had chicken on a bed of rice and a flat(sheet like) bread known as chiraq. It then gets drizzled with some mad crazy goat butten grazy business. The only word I can use for it is intense in all the salty, fatty ways you could ever imagine. Good but not an everyday necessity.
This past weekend was our two day weekend which meant some of us tore up country to check out Amman and environs. We got there late Thursday night, found a place and in the morning set out for Jerash, one of the larger and better preserved Roman towns around.
We had the place to ourselves (or at least it felt like we did) for much of the day and it was mega cool. Lots of pillars and theatres and even manhole covers!!!! All just oozing the detrius of time.(That's a new favourite term).
While we were sitting in one of the theatres a bagpiper appeared and played a jaunty tune. He was really good and they aren't lying about the acoustics in those places.
After Jerash myself and Kristin made a break from the rest of the group and headed to Madaba. I needed to remove myself from a travelling with 7 other people situation, trying to come to agreement on this and that and generally feeling slowed down and irritated. The Madaba trip was mega fun, complete with local bus sorintg out, explaining to a nice Jordanian fellow that I didn't know any women he could marry to get a visa for Canada, getting off the bus in an "I don't know where I am place" and most important sorting out a city by walking around it.
While in Madaba we saw mosaics, a lot of mosaics., Including that really famous on at St. George's church...whose name now eludes me. Do some research I'm sure you can sort it out. We also saw a lot of cool architecture. It's a generally fun, small city. Good for wandering.
The next day it was off to Mount Nebo, Moses mountain which he climbed, said "Oh shit, I think we're here" then died. Good work Moses! Then it was some coffee with our cab driver (Romanian wife) and a switch to his son's car for the ride to Bethany Beyond Jordan (Jesus' baptismal place). I'm not sure why JC was baptized into his own religion, but whatever.
It was a cool place. Not much to see but neat to be at. I have a nice picture of me pretending to pee into JC's baptismal pool which I think is super. I also have one touching the River Jordan and staring at the Israeli tour group 50 feet away. They appeared to be getting led around by a military jeep which i guess is necessary since they're actually in the West Bank when there.
After that we bid our cabbiew farewell, managed to snag a cheap ride in a local cab into Amman and then after getting out in an undetermined location managed to wander into the dowtown and startle ourselves when we turned around and found the Roman Theatre. Huzzah!
Once again the walk was mega cool. Gave me a better feel for the city than I had two nights before. I might not have liked Amman if that had been the only experience but the second go roundf was way better. Also because there was just the two of us and we just had small bags we were able to take things nice and slow.
Amman is a weird city that has grown up on a bunch of hills and is sort of linked to various refugee camps and suburbs that surropund it. There is still the distinct possibility of bumping into an old man on a donkey and his goat herd on the ourskirts and the downtown is all sorts of windy goodness.
We wanted to go to the citadel and knew it was up, so off we went. Found it and once again enjoyed ourselves. I don't think the old people trying to take pictures appreciated that we were napping in the shade of one of the pillars of the Temple of Hercules, but that's their propblem I guess.
I think I add to any picture.
We saw a museum up there (it's funny how all the Jericho artefacts were there...it took me a second to remember that whole war, land business) then some of the Abassid (maybe ummayad) structures here and there. They were filming some greased up guy for an IAAF promo. I took some photos of him to amuse myself and confuse them and thenh we ambled back to the bus station for our ride home.
Got in a bit later than I wanted, and was tired today but that seems fairly constant.
Work is going well. We seem to find the road and lose it on a daily basis. Unfortunately the material we decided was the road surface appears to stretch on forever and ever (20+ metres) and with only one edge revealed there is now confusion and doubt. We're changing tack tomorrow and starting a new square to the west (we've been goiung ever east previously) and are hoping to find some remains of a house.
Screw the road. Who needs it anyway.
K, that's it for me. Supper than an early bedtime would be ideal, but I'm sure I'll find something that will distract me and keep me up just a bit longer than I want. To some crazy let time like 930 or even...gasp...10.
We went out and about with one of our Bedouin workers, Ibrahim. He lives in New HUmayma and so it was a bit different than the experience we had camping. We hung out a lot in the 'men's' room, whihc was a big rectangle with lots of lounging couches, ate various delicious foods and drank various delicious teas and coffees.
Then we toured around the desert in a Toyota Hilux, checking out verious ancient cisterns and rock formations (rock bridge!) and generally enjoying one another's company. Pleasant all around. In the evening we had Mansaaf, a delicious but very intense Jordanian dish. Often made with lamb, this version had chicken on a bed of rice and a flat(sheet like) bread known as chiraq. It then gets drizzled with some mad crazy goat butten grazy business. The only word I can use for it is intense in all the salty, fatty ways you could ever imagine. Good but not an everyday necessity.
This past weekend was our two day weekend which meant some of us tore up country to check out Amman and environs. We got there late Thursday night, found a place and in the morning set out for Jerash, one of the larger and better preserved Roman towns around.
We had the place to ourselves (or at least it felt like we did) for much of the day and it was mega cool. Lots of pillars and theatres and even manhole covers!!!! All just oozing the detrius of time.(That's a new favourite term).
While we were sitting in one of the theatres a bagpiper appeared and played a jaunty tune. He was really good and they aren't lying about the acoustics in those places.
After Jerash myself and Kristin made a break from the rest of the group and headed to Madaba. I needed to remove myself from a travelling with 7 other people situation, trying to come to agreement on this and that and generally feeling slowed down and irritated. The Madaba trip was mega fun, complete with local bus sorintg out, explaining to a nice Jordanian fellow that I didn't know any women he could marry to get a visa for Canada, getting off the bus in an "I don't know where I am place" and most important sorting out a city by walking around it.
While in Madaba we saw mosaics, a lot of mosaics., Including that really famous on at St. George's church...whose name now eludes me. Do some research I'm sure you can sort it out. We also saw a lot of cool architecture. It's a generally fun, small city. Good for wandering.
The next day it was off to Mount Nebo, Moses mountain which he climbed, said "Oh shit, I think we're here" then died. Good work Moses! Then it was some coffee with our cab driver (Romanian wife) and a switch to his son's car for the ride to Bethany Beyond Jordan (Jesus' baptismal place). I'm not sure why JC was baptized into his own religion, but whatever.
It was a cool place. Not much to see but neat to be at. I have a nice picture of me pretending to pee into JC's baptismal pool which I think is super. I also have one touching the River Jordan and staring at the Israeli tour group 50 feet away. They appeared to be getting led around by a military jeep which i guess is necessary since they're actually in the West Bank when there.
After that we bid our cabbiew farewell, managed to snag a cheap ride in a local cab into Amman and then after getting out in an undetermined location managed to wander into the dowtown and startle ourselves when we turned around and found the Roman Theatre. Huzzah!
Once again the walk was mega cool. Gave me a better feel for the city than I had two nights before. I might not have liked Amman if that had been the only experience but the second go roundf was way better. Also because there was just the two of us and we just had small bags we were able to take things nice and slow.
Amman is a weird city that has grown up on a bunch of hills and is sort of linked to various refugee camps and suburbs that surropund it. There is still the distinct possibility of bumping into an old man on a donkey and his goat herd on the ourskirts and the downtown is all sorts of windy goodness.
We wanted to go to the citadel and knew it was up, so off we went. Found it and once again enjoyed ourselves. I don't think the old people trying to take pictures appreciated that we were napping in the shade of one of the pillars of the Temple of Hercules, but that's their propblem I guess.
I think I add to any picture.
We saw a museum up there (it's funny how all the Jericho artefacts were there...it took me a second to remember that whole war, land business) then some of the Abassid (maybe ummayad) structures here and there. They were filming some greased up guy for an IAAF promo. I took some photos of him to amuse myself and confuse them and thenh we ambled back to the bus station for our ride home.
Got in a bit later than I wanted, and was tired today but that seems fairly constant.
Work is going well. We seem to find the road and lose it on a daily basis. Unfortunately the material we decided was the road surface appears to stretch on forever and ever (20+ metres) and with only one edge revealed there is now confusion and doubt. We're changing tack tomorrow and starting a new square to the west (we've been goiung ever east previously) and are hoping to find some remains of a house.
Screw the road. Who needs it anyway.
K, that's it for me. Supper than an early bedtime would be ideal, but I'm sure I'll find something that will distract me and keep me up just a bit longer than I want. To some crazy let time like 930 or even...gasp...10.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
this and that
It's hot here.
There's a reason people fear to tread after May...humid and gunk. The desert gets hot over the day, but when we start our labour at least it's somewhat cool.
The result is we're all going a bit crazy, but adjusting.
Not a place I would recommend as a vacation spot. Nice enough, but not quite nice enough.
Oh and I should mention, we randomly got taken downstairs in the bakery yesterday. The machine they use to produce about 100 pitas every 3 minutes (me guessing) is very fun. Lots of snaking conveyer belts etc etc. I'd love to give you all details but will instead just say imagine the most fantastic pita micahine you have ever seen in the basement of a bakery in Aqaba and that's pretty much what I saw.
Peace. I'm out of here (and going to supper).
There's a reason people fear to tread after May...humid and gunk. The desert gets hot over the day, but when we start our labour at least it's somewhat cool.
The result is we're all going a bit crazy, but adjusting.
Not a place I would recommend as a vacation spot. Nice enough, but not quite nice enough.
Oh and I should mention, we randomly got taken downstairs in the bakery yesterday. The machine they use to produce about 100 pitas every 3 minutes (me guessing) is very fun. Lots of snaking conveyer belts etc etc. I'd love to give you all details but will instead just say imagine the most fantastic pita micahine you have ever seen in the basement of a bakery in Aqaba and that's pretty much what I saw.
Peace. I'm out of here (and going to supper).
beach
So we are in Aqaba. A place in the south that was a sleepy fishing village until the British started feeding supplies through here during teh Arab Revolt and the Ottoman overthrow of the early 20th century.
Now it is Jordan's only port and rpetty important for shipping Jordan's number one export (Potash!!!!!!!) and bringing in gear for Iraq. There is also some nice reef and coastline (Jordan traded 6000 sq. km of desert for a few extra of coastline from Saudi Arabia a few years ago) and as a result there are a few luxury hotels here and some nice beaches.
Since the girls we're with want to wear something more revealing than a towel we must go to the private beaches that come with a fee and a slightly more discerning clientele. Yesterday being our day off we decided to set out in search of just such a beach (Baracuda in the guidebooks). Of course I managed to lead us a astray, around a large development (which we subsequently found out will be all lagoony and fancy and add 12km to Aqaba's coastline) along a "private road", towards a bunch of tire spikes, and straight to ... dah dah dah daaaaah, gate number one of the King Abdullah's Aqaba palace. I had a very friendly chat with a special forces paratrooper who spoke virtually no (but also strangely virtually perfect, accent free English). He was able to tell us where we were and also (by clamping my wrist) that if I tried to go through the palace to reach the beach, I would be arrested. Miming swimming actions all over the place I tell you.
Some other guy drove up "I'm so glad I caught you" reclarified everything and we were on our way. No idea if the king was actually in that day, but I really enjoyed it and they were super friendly dudes. I think they were more worried that lost white tourists might raise a stink. No such thing. Back we went, eventually getting a cab because Kristin had broken a flip flop and was now barefooted on the scorching cement and construction sites we were crossing.
Finally we arrived at Aqua Marina hotel beach, determined Barracude had been subsumed by the ongoing construction, paid our 5 dinar and rocked into the place. Amazing. There was a bar and a pool and beyond that a patch of sand and volleyball court and through a low door with a signh marked beach...a cement pier. The sandy part in the middle was a beach, but to get to the red sea you had to wade out a channel between the volleyball court and a chainlink fence on cement piles.
You see, because the frontage is limited and the Intercontinental Hotel is much nicer than the AquaMarina, they have a wide sinday beach and we had a wicked prison beach. Walls and fences all sorts of fun. The water was the same though, and we had a few nice and cool dips between lounging on our sculpted fibreglass beach chairs.
Very nice.
Now it is Jordan's only port and rpetty important for shipping Jordan's number one export (Potash!!!!!!!) and bringing in gear for Iraq. There is also some nice reef and coastline (Jordan traded 6000 sq. km of desert for a few extra of coastline from Saudi Arabia a few years ago) and as a result there are a few luxury hotels here and some nice beaches.
Since the girls we're with want to wear something more revealing than a towel we must go to the private beaches that come with a fee and a slightly more discerning clientele. Yesterday being our day off we decided to set out in search of just such a beach (Baracuda in the guidebooks). Of course I managed to lead us a astray, around a large development (which we subsequently found out will be all lagoony and fancy and add 12km to Aqaba's coastline) along a "private road", towards a bunch of tire spikes, and straight to ... dah dah dah daaaaah, gate number one of the King Abdullah's Aqaba palace. I had a very friendly chat with a special forces paratrooper who spoke virtually no (but also strangely virtually perfect, accent free English). He was able to tell us where we were and also (by clamping my wrist) that if I tried to go through the palace to reach the beach, I would be arrested. Miming swimming actions all over the place I tell you.
Some other guy drove up "I'm so glad I caught you" reclarified everything and we were on our way. No idea if the king was actually in that day, but I really enjoyed it and they were super friendly dudes. I think they were more worried that lost white tourists might raise a stink. No such thing. Back we went, eventually getting a cab because Kristin had broken a flip flop and was now barefooted on the scorching cement and construction sites we were crossing.
Finally we arrived at Aqua Marina hotel beach, determined Barracude had been subsumed by the ongoing construction, paid our 5 dinar and rocked into the place. Amazing. There was a bar and a pool and beyond that a patch of sand and volleyball court and through a low door with a signh marked beach...a cement pier. The sandy part in the middle was a beach, but to get to the red sea you had to wade out a channel between the volleyball court and a chainlink fence on cement piles.
You see, because the frontage is limited and the Intercontinental Hotel is much nicer than the AquaMarina, they have a wide sinday beach and we had a wicked prison beach. Walls and fences all sorts of fun. The water was the same though, and we had a few nice and cool dips between lounging on our sculpted fibreglass beach chairs.
Very nice.
distances
I'm not sure if I mentioned this business already, but part of desert magic is how your sense of distance is totally lost. I suppose because there are few things between here and there (or hoona and hoonaka in the Arab vernacular) the distances seem far. But then you start walking and SURPIRSE! You're there already.
This is fun as you get to places you want to be much faster and also people tend to sneak up on you.
Bedouin tents are here and there behind this dune and that mound, and every once in a while someone gets bored and decides to see what we're up to. They're usually about 10 feet away before I notice them. Of course this might have something to do with the little detail of me having my head buried in various holes and sand piles.
Maybe.
This is fun as you get to places you want to be much faster and also people tend to sneak up on you.
Bedouin tents are here and there behind this dune and that mound, and every once in a while someone gets bored and decides to see what we're up to. They're usually about 10 feet away before I notice them. Of course this might have something to do with the little detail of me having my head buried in various holes and sand piles.
Maybe.
chai (schaai?)...tea
I need to make special mention of the Bedouin tea. They call it chai, but have more of a sh sound on the front.
Whatever it is, it is regular black tea, except for a few added touches. One being the crazy fire blackened tea pots that seem to be Bedouin standard equipment and the other being copious amounts of sugar. Throw in a pile of sugar (I'm not sure how much, but enough), and the water then set the pot in a fire fed by one of the bountiful desert bushes. Next up the tea, dip dip dip, get a good steep on, then enjoy.
They call it Bedouin whiskey and it's served in teensy glasses. Delicious and a decent pick me up. Who knew a nice cup of piping hot tea would be so de rigeur and desireable in the desert?
Whatever it is, it is regular black tea, except for a few added touches. One being the crazy fire blackened tea pots that seem to be Bedouin standard equipment and the other being copious amounts of sugar. Throw in a pile of sugar (I'm not sure how much, but enough), and the water then set the pot in a fire fed by one of the bountiful desert bushes. Next up the tea, dip dip dip, get a good steep on, then enjoy.
They call it Bedouin whiskey and it's served in teensy glasses. Delicious and a decent pick me up. Who knew a nice cup of piping hot tea would be so de rigeur and desireable in the desert?
Camping trip
Okay.
So sometimes the Bedouin invite some of their coworkers out on camping trips. This is good fun and everyone has a jolly time. However, some of the Bedouin think white girls are "loose" (movies and the odd hook up when they guide a group in Wadi Rum on an overnight). This means some caution is required. The Bedouin who were leading this charge were generally seen to be legitimately good people, but Jordan is a funny place.
City and village and Bedouin are very different things with one not always trusting the other. Amer, our rep from the department of antiquities for instance does not trust the Bedouin terribly well. Therefore he wasnted to put the kaibosh on the whole camping trip. It was meant to be 2 girls and 2 younger fellas. The solution to make the trip happen? Bring in the old guard (ie me). Supposedly I have more life experience and would therefore be able to battle any attacking bedouin.
Whatever.
I went and it was awesome! I can't go into all the fantastic details but I will say we hiked down into a canyon (wadi). ALong said Wadi, observing the amazing colours and patterns that slowly emerge from the sandstone as well as cool rocks and formations. It made me think about how easy it would be to develop a pantheon and a mythology there. Just so much raw material abounds in the rock face. This is something I intend to think on more fully in the weeks month and life ahead.
We climbed back out of the Wadi over the crumbly sandstone, guided by the ever present and agile Bedouin. I shouldn't over generalize, but I have to say that some of them (particularly a fellow named Salime) were amazing. Barefoot scampering over sheer rock faces always tend to leave me a little impressed.
Various tours here and there, stopping for tea and nargil;a (flavoured tabacco) from time to time. Very nice.
Skipping a bunch.
Our campsite was tremendous, in another valley and just perfect. They made bread (houbs) on the fire and in the fire. After starting the cooking on a pan they actually cover the bastard wuith embers and cook it inside the fire for a while. very delicious. The night was spent with more nargila (not too much for me), food, singing, dancing etc. Bedouin hospitality at its undeniable finest.
Great tiems had by all and no untoward groping that I had to scold (as expected). Super fun.
The best part was we got some awesome stars for a while before the moon rose. Then we had an awesome moon rise and the opportunity for some amazing long exposure shots featuring profiles of a camel...Boyman, the racing camel of Salim's.
I should say, if you've never seen a racing camel in full flight, you haven't really lived.
And, work the next day went well. A bit tired, but more than worth it.
So sometimes the Bedouin invite some of their coworkers out on camping trips. This is good fun and everyone has a jolly time. However, some of the Bedouin think white girls are "loose" (movies and the odd hook up when they guide a group in Wadi Rum on an overnight). This means some caution is required. The Bedouin who were leading this charge were generally seen to be legitimately good people, but Jordan is a funny place.
City and village and Bedouin are very different things with one not always trusting the other. Amer, our rep from the department of antiquities for instance does not trust the Bedouin terribly well. Therefore he wasnted to put the kaibosh on the whole camping trip. It was meant to be 2 girls and 2 younger fellas. The solution to make the trip happen? Bring in the old guard (ie me). Supposedly I have more life experience and would therefore be able to battle any attacking bedouin.
Whatever.
I went and it was awesome! I can't go into all the fantastic details but I will say we hiked down into a canyon (wadi). ALong said Wadi, observing the amazing colours and patterns that slowly emerge from the sandstone as well as cool rocks and formations. It made me think about how easy it would be to develop a pantheon and a mythology there. Just so much raw material abounds in the rock face. This is something I intend to think on more fully in the weeks month and life ahead.
We climbed back out of the Wadi over the crumbly sandstone, guided by the ever present and agile Bedouin. I shouldn't over generalize, but I have to say that some of them (particularly a fellow named Salime) were amazing. Barefoot scampering over sheer rock faces always tend to leave me a little impressed.
Various tours here and there, stopping for tea and nargil;a (flavoured tabacco) from time to time. Very nice.
Skipping a bunch.
Our campsite was tremendous, in another valley and just perfect. They made bread (houbs) on the fire and in the fire. After starting the cooking on a pan they actually cover the bastard wuith embers and cook it inside the fire for a while. very delicious. The night was spent with more nargila (not too much for me), food, singing, dancing etc. Bedouin hospitality at its undeniable finest.
Great tiems had by all and no untoward groping that I had to scold (as expected). Super fun.
The best part was we got some awesome stars for a while before the moon rose. Then we had an awesome moon rise and the opportunity for some amazing long exposure shots featuring profiles of a camel...Boyman, the racing camel of Salim's.
I should say, if you've never seen a racing camel in full flight, you haven't really lived.
And, work the next day went well. A bit tired, but more than worth it.
so much stuff
Blarrgh. Type type type.
If only I wasn't so popular there wouldn't be all those emails and then I wouldn't have to respond and then there would be more time for blogging. Oh well.
First off, I will apologize yet again for poor spelling on here. Particularly the spelling of the word teh (which until that intentional mistype I had been spelling correctly). Normally I would allow you folks to figure out that I just type really quickly and lack the time/inclination to go backl over anything, but I'm beign harassed, so I needed to say something.
There's a girl on the trip whats names is Kristin, her dad is a spaceman (read: astronaut) and this gives her an inflated ego. However, since she has decided to take the time to read the opus the least I can do is type gooder and apologize for inevitable mistakes.
Also, Kristin is actually a fine young lady, and her dad is Chris Hadfield. Yes THAT Chris Hadfield. First Canadian spacewalk, Canadarm styles, etc etc.
I don't know what the rest of my posts are going to be like as a tonne has happened. Let's begin shall we?
If only I wasn't so popular there wouldn't be all those emails and then I wouldn't have to respond and then there would be more time for blogging. Oh well.
First off, I will apologize yet again for poor spelling on here. Particularly the spelling of the word teh (which until that intentional mistype I had been spelling correctly). Normally I would allow you folks to figure out that I just type really quickly and lack the time/inclination to go backl over anything, but I'm beign harassed, so I needed to say something.
There's a girl on the trip whats names is Kristin, her dad is a spaceman (read: astronaut) and this gives her an inflated ego. However, since she has decided to take the time to read the opus the least I can do is type gooder and apologize for inevitable mistakes.
Also, Kristin is actually a fine young lady, and her dad is Chris Hadfield. Yes THAT Chris Hadfield. First Canadian spacewalk, Canadarm styles, etc etc.
I don't know what the rest of my posts are going to be like as a tonne has happened. Let's begin shall we?
Monday, May 19, 2008
general
Aside from being sick, things are still good. Trying to get to sleep on time is trying. Hem. Writing isn't finding the time I want it to. Even this is a bit rushed. I want more thoughts an commentary, over and above narrative, but I'm sure it will come.
Hmmmm. Oh, we found the road. Did I mention that? I think so. I started a new square today to look for the other side. Peeling off 10cm of soil from a 6m by 6m square is boring, but what are you going to do. Right now it's just me and a Bedouin named Ra'ad. My Arabic and his English aren't meshing too well so it's pretty quiet but he's a good guy and a great worker so no complaints.
I'll tell you as soon as I find Turkish gold, which is what some of the Bedouin are convinced we're looking for so we can't use the G word on site.
Hmmmm. Oh, we found the road. Did I mention that? I think so. I started a new square today to look for the other side. Peeling off 10cm of soil from a 6m by 6m square is boring, but what are you going to do. Right now it's just me and a Bedouin named Ra'ad. My Arabic and his English aren't meshing too well so it's pretty quiet but he's a good guy and a great worker so no complaints.
I'll tell you as soon as I find Turkish gold, which is what some of the Bedouin are convinced we're looking for so we can't use the G word on site.
Picnic and shobak
As I was feeling under teh weather and therefore napped (and may have already mentioned it) I'll say the picnic on rocky rolling hills, underneath some holly like trees, enjoying the afternoon and a cup of chai was just lovely.
Lots of locals picnicing here and there. Just great.
The castle was super weet. Shobak by name. Amer got his start in this place so the tour was extensive. Lots of towers and arrow slits and great panoramic views out over teh hills. Quite an intimidating presence. As I mentioned the castle had two underground springs that it could draw from, and by underground I mean at the bottom of the mountain, reached via a long assed underground set of stairs.
We descended that tunnel to close off our adventure, and given not everyone had flashlights there were nervous moments, but we worked it out and it was a tremendoues tiome had by all. I'm just glad I wasn't doing something silly like...hmmm, hacking the stairs out of the rock and hauling the rock to the surface or hauling water from down there during a siege. Sheesh.
The funny thing is, the spring is just about 8 feet underground at the base of teh mountain so if Saladin had known where to look he would have found his way into the castle faster than the 8 month siege that was needed.
Great castle, good defences, but since I expect to see some better ones and I'm already writing a lot I will save the details.
Lots of locals picnicing here and there. Just great.
The castle was super weet. Shobak by name. Amer got his start in this place so the tour was extensive. Lots of towers and arrow slits and great panoramic views out over teh hills. Quite an intimidating presence. As I mentioned the castle had two underground springs that it could draw from, and by underground I mean at the bottom of the mountain, reached via a long assed underground set of stairs.
We descended that tunnel to close off our adventure, and given not everyone had flashlights there were nervous moments, but we worked it out and it was a tremendoues tiome had by all. I'm just glad I wasn't doing something silly like...hmmm, hacking the stairs out of the rock and hauling the rock to the surface or hauling water from down there during a siege. Sheesh.
The funny thing is, the spring is just about 8 feet underground at the base of teh mountain so if Saladin had known where to look he would have found his way into the castle faster than the 8 month siege that was needed.
Great castle, good defences, but since I expect to see some better ones and I'm already writing a lot I will save the details.
Petra
What to say about the place? If anyone has seen Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade they know at least one location in Petra, the Treasury.
The treasury is not actually a Treasury, just the front a of a tomb, which is what most of that sort of in the rock face building in Petra is. Inside there are no secret chambers and none of them go that far into the rock. Just a square room and not much excitement. Alas. This particular locale is called the Treasury because the Bedouin believe some advancing Pharaoh was being slowed down by his treasure so using his magical dark powers he created the pklace in one night. Subsequerntly thew BNedouin took to shootiong at one of the solid stone urns on the facade. Treasure is yet to fall out (and I think teh Bedouin have given up).
Walking to the treasury is down a long suq, a wind worn canyon of red rock. Very cool and paved by the Romans at some point. ALong its sides they have carved some channels, part of the extensive Nabatean water works. Truly amazing what thye were able to do with so little rain. Then suddenly there's a crack ahead and you get your first glimpse of teh treasury.
Thjere are all sorts of buildings carved into the rock, here and there, as well as a street that was formerly collonaded and had free standing temples, some of which still remain. Very cool stuff.
While there I climbed to the monastery, originally built as a meeting place by the Nabateans, teh Byzantines used it as a church, hence the name ( I can't remember the Arabic). This place is like teh Treasury, only bigger and on top of a mountain. Crazy location. They had to dig away the slope of the mountain a good 20m before they had the height they wanted to build the thing into the rock face (about 43m tall). Then they had to carve it and blah blah blah. The only question that was running through my mind is "who does that?" Certainly not me. Too much effort. Although I am digging holes in the desert so who am I to judge.
Up at the top of a mountain I was also able to hit up a look out and away to the north was Haron's (Aaron, Moses' brother) tomb. I alittle white speck atop a crag. Apparently to get there is quite the hike.
After my climb (on an empty stomach) I wasn't feeling the best. I probably should have rented a donkey...next time.
I felt crummy the rest of the day and after working on Saturday managed to come down with some diarreha for Sunday and took teh day off. But I needn't detail that.
General thoughts on Petra. A place to be visited again and with more time. This visit was a bit rushed and I need more time to meditate on the site. We did get in for free though because we are archaelogists and our representative from the department of antiquities is awesome and seems to own Jordan (it's all about who you know). Amer is his name and we call him the Hammer.
Also, in Petra, the stairs to nowhere, and from nowhere, are tremendous. I assume they uised to have ends, but erosion's a funny thing and now they just float on various cliff faces.
The treasury is not actually a Treasury, just the front a of a tomb, which is what most of that sort of in the rock face building in Petra is. Inside there are no secret chambers and none of them go that far into the rock. Just a square room and not much excitement. Alas. This particular locale is called the Treasury because the Bedouin believe some advancing Pharaoh was being slowed down by his treasure so using his magical dark powers he created the pklace in one night. Subsequerntly thew BNedouin took to shootiong at one of the solid stone urns on the facade. Treasure is yet to fall out (and I think teh Bedouin have given up).
Walking to the treasury is down a long suq, a wind worn canyon of red rock. Very cool and paved by the Romans at some point. ALong its sides they have carved some channels, part of the extensive Nabatean water works. Truly amazing what thye were able to do with so little rain. Then suddenly there's a crack ahead and you get your first glimpse of teh treasury.
Thjere are all sorts of buildings carved into the rock, here and there, as well as a street that was formerly collonaded and had free standing temples, some of which still remain. Very cool stuff.
While there I climbed to the monastery, originally built as a meeting place by the Nabateans, teh Byzantines used it as a church, hence the name ( I can't remember the Arabic). This place is like teh Treasury, only bigger and on top of a mountain. Crazy location. They had to dig away the slope of the mountain a good 20m before they had the height they wanted to build the thing into the rock face (about 43m tall). Then they had to carve it and blah blah blah. The only question that was running through my mind is "who does that?" Certainly not me. Too much effort. Although I am digging holes in the desert so who am I to judge.
Up at the top of a mountain I was also able to hit up a look out and away to the north was Haron's (Aaron, Moses' brother) tomb. I alittle white speck atop a crag. Apparently to get there is quite the hike.
After my climb (on an empty stomach) I wasn't feeling the best. I probably should have rented a donkey...next time.
I felt crummy the rest of the day and after working on Saturday managed to come down with some diarreha for Sunday and took teh day off. But I needn't detail that.
General thoughts on Petra. A place to be visited again and with more time. This visit was a bit rushed and I need more time to meditate on the site. We did get in for free though because we are archaelogists and our representative from the department of antiquities is awesome and seems to own Jordan (it's all about who you know). Amer is his name and we call him the Hammer.
Also, in Petra, the stairs to nowhere, and from nowhere, are tremendous. I assume they uised to have ends, but erosion's a funny thing and now they just float on various cliff faces.
this and that
The idea blogging seems intimidating right now so I will start with a few quick hits and if I come up with some stuff I wish to devote a full entry to, well that will just be super duper, won't it?
First off, the minaret singing is becomign a love hate thing. Not so big a fan when I'm trying to sleep (or when they are moving metal gas canisters onto a metal flat bed or when the cats start singing humping fightiong outside my window) when I'm trying to sleep. But when they have a particularly good singer on there and the sound is relatively clear I quite enjoy it all. When we're on the roof in the evening and the breeze is blowing down the dead sea valley strongly and all you have to do is enjoy the evening and write, it doesn't seem so bad.
It's interesting watching the varying degrees of Islam. From the full burka to the full burka with a wicked pair of heels to head scarf in classy shirt to head scraf in skin tight... and that's just how women dress. Ibrahim, one of the Bedouin I work with, was explaining how beer is okay sometimes (and was prescribed for his wife's upset stomach once) while whiskey and other hard stuff are no nos. It's all in the details. Take anything to an extreme and mess up people's lives too much and they are bound not to follow, but allow a degree of flexibility so people can fit the religion into life and life will work that much better.
At the same time, being here, one notes how the ge4ography pf the place influences cultural formation. Long sleeves only make sense in the sun (although the women all in black is still a mystery), equally wise not to booze and dehydrate. Pigs...apparently theor flesh goes bad faster than other anuimals, and aside from that pigs root, and there's no better way to ruin what little arable land there is and remove moisture from the sopil than to havew a pig scrounging around digging everything up.
Hrrrrm. I think I'll give some more details on Petra and Crusdaer castles but that deserves another post...just trying to think of anything else to add here. I'm sure it'll come to me as soon as I press post.
First off, the minaret singing is becomign a love hate thing. Not so big a fan when I'm trying to sleep (or when they are moving metal gas canisters onto a metal flat bed or when the cats start singing humping fightiong outside my window) when I'm trying to sleep. But when they have a particularly good singer on there and the sound is relatively clear I quite enjoy it all. When we're on the roof in the evening and the breeze is blowing down the dead sea valley strongly and all you have to do is enjoy the evening and write, it doesn't seem so bad.
It's interesting watching the varying degrees of Islam. From the full burka to the full burka with a wicked pair of heels to head scarf in classy shirt to head scraf in skin tight... and that's just how women dress. Ibrahim, one of the Bedouin I work with, was explaining how beer is okay sometimes (and was prescribed for his wife's upset stomach once) while whiskey and other hard stuff are no nos. It's all in the details. Take anything to an extreme and mess up people's lives too much and they are bound not to follow, but allow a degree of flexibility so people can fit the religion into life and life will work that much better.
At the same time, being here, one notes how the ge4ography pf the place influences cultural formation. Long sleeves only make sense in the sun (although the women all in black is still a mystery), equally wise not to booze and dehydrate. Pigs...apparently theor flesh goes bad faster than other anuimals, and aside from that pigs root, and there's no better way to ruin what little arable land there is and remove moisture from the sopil than to havew a pig scrounging around digging everything up.
Hrrrrm. I think I'll give some more details on Petra and Crusdaer castles but that deserves another post...just trying to think of anything else to add here. I'm sure it'll come to me as soon as I press post.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Life continues apace
I don't really have to time to figure out where I left you all last but I continue to rule.
We think we've found the road (a road) and that's good. New squares to be opened tomorrow. Also on our 'weekend' (Friday) we went to Petra as well as hung out in the Crusader castle of Shobak. The latter featuring a 300 foot decent into the pitch black mountain to reach one of the crusader's cisterns. Good times all around.
More next time, I promise. Maybe even some clever thoughts on the world of which I have many.
We think we've found the road (a road) and that's good. New squares to be opened tomorrow. Also on our 'weekend' (Friday) we went to Petra as well as hung out in the Crusader castle of Shobak. The latter featuring a 300 foot decent into the pitch black mountain to reach one of the crusader's cisterns. Good times all around.
More next time, I promise. Maybe even some clever thoughts on the world of which I have many.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
rain and Moses
I don't really have much new to add, and as I'm still trying to sort out flights back to Canada online I don't feel terribly blessed with time either.
Whatever the case here's a few points.
Yesterday it rained in the desert. Rained. Not poured or anything but it was still mighty strange. Not having the scorching sun in your eyes all day really throws you off and makes you that much more tired. Although the whole lower heat business is appreciated.
The Bedouin who work with us have a tendancy to assign names that are easier to pronounce. Some of them are cool and mean things like morning or beauty or other such nonsense. They took one look at me and called me Moussa. Aka Moses. Yes that one. Apparently I look like a guy who can lead some people to milk and honey. I'll be sure to keep you updated on my quest.
Today because we were opening a new square in search of the road I was left alone in my whole about 100m past everyone else. Good times. It is unbelievable how quiet the desert is. So today I picked and shoveled and hauled and sweated but I also sat in the bottom of my hole and stared at teh dirt wall, looking for patterns or lines or something. Fortress of solitude. Good times.
I'm about 1.5 metres down now and the thing we thought might be clay brick still might be, but it isn't really clear enough to say definitively so off I go elsewhere. First I have to tidy up the baulks (sides) and make sure everything is ship-shape for the final photo, then I'll likely move to the new square and start helping look for the road.
Sitting in holes in the desert is actually a very hot experience. I'm nowhere near deep enough to have a big shadow and at noon it makes little difference anyway. So all the hole ends up doing is taking you out of the wind.
Sweaty.
Lots of water though so I'm rocking.
Whatever the case here's a few points.
Yesterday it rained in the desert. Rained. Not poured or anything but it was still mighty strange. Not having the scorching sun in your eyes all day really throws you off and makes you that much more tired. Although the whole lower heat business is appreciated.
The Bedouin who work with us have a tendancy to assign names that are easier to pronounce. Some of them are cool and mean things like morning or beauty or other such nonsense. They took one look at me and called me Moussa. Aka Moses. Yes that one. Apparently I look like a guy who can lead some people to milk and honey. I'll be sure to keep you updated on my quest.
Today because we were opening a new square in search of the road I was left alone in my whole about 100m past everyone else. Good times. It is unbelievable how quiet the desert is. So today I picked and shoveled and hauled and sweated but I also sat in the bottom of my hole and stared at teh dirt wall, looking for patterns or lines or something. Fortress of solitude. Good times.
I'm about 1.5 metres down now and the thing we thought might be clay brick still might be, but it isn't really clear enough to say definitively so off I go elsewhere. First I have to tidy up the baulks (sides) and make sure everything is ship-shape for the final photo, then I'll likely move to the new square and start helping look for the road.
Sitting in holes in the desert is actually a very hot experience. I'm nowhere near deep enough to have a big shadow and at noon it makes little difference anyway. So all the hole ends up doing is taking you out of the wind.
Sweaty.
Lots of water though so I'm rocking.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Digging and Wadi Rum
Life continues. More digging.
We aren't finding much at our current location. The scorpion palace has thus far been a bust. I got to go at the desert with pick and shovel today, a nice change from the standard wisk broom and trowel so that was nice. But after going down about 35cm nothing is really apparent. Tomorrow we start a new square to search for this darned road. We'll find it yet.
On our weekend (ie Friday) we went to Wadi Rum. Good times. This is the place where Lawrence hid out for a while during his fight against the Ottomans. We even got to see the spring that he bathed in. He had to climb a steep hill of fallen rocks to get to it so I hope he liked it. We also had a bit of desert driving and saw some paleolithic carvings in one of those classic Jordanian rock crevices. (smoooth red rock walls etcv etc).
While in them we did some scrambling and I had a hard time getting down, the rocks were simply too smooth. Once I was down however, the real fun started, getting Zoe down. It's a lot easier getting her up. In the end I was perched legs apart (one on each canyone wall) while I talked her down from hold to hold with the help of a nice German woman. Good times, and I don't think we were ever RELALLY in danger. It would have been a bit of a fall I suppose, but the rock was SMOOTH! So it wouldn't have been that bad.
Short entry today, I need me some sleep. These 430 mornings are killing me.
Oh, and if anyone was wondering I was never planning top go Lebanon.
We aren't finding much at our current location. The scorpion palace has thus far been a bust. I got to go at the desert with pick and shovel today, a nice change from the standard wisk broom and trowel so that was nice. But after going down about 35cm nothing is really apparent. Tomorrow we start a new square to search for this darned road. We'll find it yet.
On our weekend (ie Friday) we went to Wadi Rum. Good times. This is the place where Lawrence hid out for a while during his fight against the Ottomans. We even got to see the spring that he bathed in. He had to climb a steep hill of fallen rocks to get to it so I hope he liked it. We also had a bit of desert driving and saw some paleolithic carvings in one of those classic Jordanian rock crevices. (smoooth red rock walls etcv etc).
While in them we did some scrambling and I had a hard time getting down, the rocks were simply too smooth. Once I was down however, the real fun started, getting Zoe down. It's a lot easier getting her up. In the end I was perched legs apart (one on each canyone wall) while I talked her down from hold to hold with the help of a nice German woman. Good times, and I don't think we were ever RELALLY in danger. It would have been a bit of a fall I suppose, but the rock was SMOOTH! So it wouldn't have been that bad.
Short entry today, I need me some sleep. These 430 mornings are killing me.
Oh, and if anyone was wondering I was never planning top go Lebanon.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Ye Olde Call to Prayer
So travelling in the middle east are you???
Maybe it's time to wax poetic about early morning wake-ups from the local minaret. Or not.
Maybe I haven't found the romance because teh call comes in at 415? I suppose I need to get up at 430, so that might be deemed helpful, but I'll put it in the interesting experience column (not bad) over romance.
The tinny speakers cerainly can't help things. Sometimes there are a few minutes of garbled static before anyones voice even comes on.
I'll admit some of it is very pretty and if I could understand the sermons and prayers I'd likely get more out of things, but my reaction is already 'interesting and a part of life', rather than 'HOLY F-Balls travelling is crazy'.
I like Mark's reaction/translation every time the voice booms into our room, "Go Bills". (as in the football team)
Maybe it's time to wax poetic about early morning wake-ups from the local minaret. Or not.
Maybe I haven't found the romance because teh call comes in at 415? I suppose I need to get up at 430, so that might be deemed helpful, but I'll put it in the interesting experience column (not bad) over romance.
The tinny speakers cerainly can't help things. Sometimes there are a few minutes of garbled static before anyones voice even comes on.
I'll admit some of it is very pretty and if I could understand the sermons and prayers I'd likely get more out of things, but my reaction is already 'interesting and a part of life', rather than 'HOLY F-Balls travelling is crazy'.
I like Mark's reaction/translation every time the voice booms into our room, "Go Bills". (as in the football team)
archaeology
OH BABY!
So basically the town of Humayma is asbig as it is. Google earth it or something...I dunno. There is an old Roman road leading to the town, but no one knows exactly where it is, and that is what me and my group have been tasked with fnding. We are digging far away from everyone else, out past the old Roman fort on a little mound beside the modern road (desert track).
No road.
BUT today in my little locus I found a wicked cool wall. So we don't know what we have but it is awesome. The fun thing about our dig sit is that it has never been dug at before. No one knows what might be there and given that it is out past the fort, far removed from the rest of town the guesses get to keep on coming. I have found some wicked cool bricks and lots of plaster and stucco as well as all sorts of wall bits. The stucco is interesting because it still has its paint. This means it was painted when the stucco was wet which generally means the person building the structure had money and therefore better workers. Fun.
Right at the end of digging today I lifted my foot and saw a piece of something. Upon closer inspection it looked like a scorpion. I should clarify the little piece of something was a rock and teh scorpion was carved. Or we were thinking it might be. Because it's rock the boss types feel it's mroe likely to be a fossil or just a random shape (I doubt that, it's a mighty fine likeness). Either way it is really cool. Now our site (officially E129) is now called Kasr al Acrab, or house of the scorpion.
Bad
Ass
Heh.
Unfiortunately during teh pottery clean up this afternoon the baggy that contained it has gone missing. Hopefully it will re-emerge. Either way, awesome.
If it's deemed to be a carving it stays, but if a fossil I might get it. I would rather it is a carving because it's such a nice piece and would change EVERYTHING we KNOW.
There is no antiquity taking of courem, but I'm allowed to take pebbles and lord do I have a lot. I'll sort them before I leave.
So basically the town of Humayma is asbig as it is. Google earth it or something...I dunno. There is an old Roman road leading to the town, but no one knows exactly where it is, and that is what me and my group have been tasked with fnding. We are digging far away from everyone else, out past the old Roman fort on a little mound beside the modern road (desert track).
No road.
BUT today in my little locus I found a wicked cool wall. So we don't know what we have but it is awesome. The fun thing about our dig sit is that it has never been dug at before. No one knows what might be there and given that it is out past the fort, far removed from the rest of town the guesses get to keep on coming. I have found some wicked cool bricks and lots of plaster and stucco as well as all sorts of wall bits. The stucco is interesting because it still has its paint. This means it was painted when the stucco was wet which generally means the person building the structure had money and therefore better workers. Fun.
Right at the end of digging today I lifted my foot and saw a piece of something. Upon closer inspection it looked like a scorpion. I should clarify the little piece of something was a rock and teh scorpion was carved. Or we were thinking it might be. Because it's rock the boss types feel it's mroe likely to be a fossil or just a random shape (I doubt that, it's a mighty fine likeness). Either way it is really cool. Now our site (officially E129) is now called Kasr al Acrab, or house of the scorpion.
Bad
Ass
Heh.
Unfiortunately during teh pottery clean up this afternoon the baggy that contained it has gone missing. Hopefully it will re-emerge. Either way, awesome.
If it's deemed to be a carving it stays, but if a fossil I might get it. I would rather it is a carving because it's such a nice piece and would change EVERYTHING we KNOW.
There is no antiquity taking of courem, but I'm allowed to take pebbles and lord do I have a lot. I'll sort them before I leave.
The kaafiyas are actually here
The kaafiya is a head scarf. It's a square with all sorts of fancy patterns here there and everywhere. You can tie it in all sorts of fun ways and look really sharp when doing it.
The Jordanian colours are red and white...Yasser Arafat wore a black and white one because those are the palestinian colours.
Until I have a picture to post on here I'[m pretty sure that's all I have to say about. I look good with it on and am way more badass than the people who wear them purely for fashion. Why? Just because.
The Jordanian colours are red and white...Yasser Arafat wore a black and white one because those are the palestinian colours.
Until I have a picture to post on here I'[m pretty sure that's all I have to say about. I look good with it on and am way more badass than the people who wear them purely for fashion. Why? Just because.
Kaafiyas and dust
Mmmm Jordan.
So tasty.
Well the food is good but life is as well. I'm talking waking at 415 and rocking out. Well, less that, more wishing I couldn't hear the minaret's speakers (ore on them later).
My day starts around 415, I lie for a bit then get up and head to the roof. Myself Mark and Zoe do some stretches up there. The rooms can get a bit stuffy so the roof and its accompanying breeze usually do the trick when it comes to bringiong down the core temp a wee bit. After that we head down and get ready. Breakfast at 5, pack a second breakfast and we're in the van at 530 driving towards teh site (about an hour away). From there we organize tools and head to our respective dig sites (more on that later). Dig dig dig. Second breakfast and sometimes Bedouin brewed tea around 10 then back to work. We usually pack up and head home at 1 and then have lunch when we get back. Afternoons are for cleaning pottery and paper work (or free time as the case may be) then suddenly it's supper and everyone is pretty wiped. Goodnight.
So tasty.
Well the food is good but life is as well. I'm talking waking at 415 and rocking out. Well, less that, more wishing I couldn't hear the minaret's speakers (ore on them later).
My day starts around 415, I lie for a bit then get up and head to the roof. Myself Mark and Zoe do some stretches up there. The rooms can get a bit stuffy so the roof and its accompanying breeze usually do the trick when it comes to bringiong down the core temp a wee bit. After that we head down and get ready. Breakfast at 5, pack a second breakfast and we're in the van at 530 driving towards teh site (about an hour away). From there we organize tools and head to our respective dig sites (more on that later). Dig dig dig. Second breakfast and sometimes Bedouin brewed tea around 10 then back to work. We usually pack up and head home at 1 and then have lunch when we get back. Afternoons are for cleaning pottery and paper work (or free time as the case may be) then suddenly it's supper and everyone is pretty wiped. Goodnight.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Jordan
There's obviously already a lot of stuff to think about so we'll see how this goes.
First the calls to prayer...I'd say lovely and haunting but at 4 am???? Heh, I'm jsut kidding. Considering how early we'll be heading out to the dig site in the mornings, I would much rather wake to that than any alarm clock.
Our Palace has roof access, perfect for drying clothes and just hanging out and watching the city. I'm sure we'll end up spending a night up there at some point. It only seems appropriate.
We drove to the dig site today for a walk around. Awesome.
The mountains and a mix of jagged, volcanic structures and blobs of rock that look lik scooped ice cream or perhaps melting ice cream. There's not much water around but bcause there is so little in the way of foliage you can easily see where the water goes when it does rain. Lovely. I am watching the change of colours over teh day with great interest. They just flatten out and deaden as teh sun gets higher, but the light is just perfect in the mornings and evenings. I particularly enjoy how the mountains behind Aqaba (where I'm currently staying if i didn't mention that) glow red as the sun sets behind Egypt.
Just to lay it all out. I'm now in the south of Jordan in Aqaba...we drive to the dig site everyday (about 1 hour). It is called Humayma and was a Nabatean, Roman and Byzantine settlement. Some people think maybe Ottoman too, but that needs some proving yet.
Amazing what you can do with a bit of water collection technology and th desert. The soil is good, it just neeeds the precious liquid and the ways they collect and store the stuff is blowing my mind. Truly amazing and something that I will undoubtedly comment more on later. Suffice to say there are cisterns used by teh Bedo\uin today that were built over 1000 years ago. Nuts.
Speaking of the Bedouin...we hire a bunch to help us on the site and as we wqere finishing up today they started shuoting and arguing amongst themselves and with our guy from teh Jordanian ministry of antiquities. There are four main family groups in the area and the largest is also the most wealthy. We try to give out jobs to everyone and because of the above situation it isn't right to dole it out just on a ratio of population basis.
ANyway, the shouting a shaking of fists suddenly turned into 'The Dustup in the Desert' 'The Debacle in the Desert'...whatever, they started wipping rocks at eachother. AWESOME! It didn't last too long but it was pretty sweet.
Turns out one of the guys was pretending to be the head of the cooperative, of which all familis are members. He wasnted the watchman job for himself because it pays the best (over time etc) and you just need to sit around and drink tea. Our people figured it out and went to talk to the legit cooperative headman, and all seems to now be good. Con artists, gotta lov 'em.
OOOOH! I should also mention we were exploring the Aqaba Fort that TE Lawrence so famously took after runnning ut of the mountains mentioned earlier, and we drive past Wadi Raum on our way to the dig site (where Lawrence camped for a while). Neato. I guess I'll have to watch the movie again.
Okay, the smoke in here is starting t bug me...more in a few days but so far eveything is great.
Except my arabic...I just can't make the numbers stick in my head...I'll get there eventually.
First the calls to prayer...I'd say lovely and haunting but at 4 am???? Heh, I'm jsut kidding. Considering how early we'll be heading out to the dig site in the mornings, I would much rather wake to that than any alarm clock.
Our Palace has roof access, perfect for drying clothes and just hanging out and watching the city. I'm sure we'll end up spending a night up there at some point. It only seems appropriate.
We drove to the dig site today for a walk around. Awesome.
The mountains and a mix of jagged, volcanic structures and blobs of rock that look lik scooped ice cream or perhaps melting ice cream. There's not much water around but bcause there is so little in the way of foliage you can easily see where the water goes when it does rain. Lovely. I am watching the change of colours over teh day with great interest. They just flatten out and deaden as teh sun gets higher, but the light is just perfect in the mornings and evenings. I particularly enjoy how the mountains behind Aqaba (where I'm currently staying if i didn't mention that) glow red as the sun sets behind Egypt.
Just to lay it all out. I'm now in the south of Jordan in Aqaba...we drive to the dig site everyday (about 1 hour). It is called Humayma and was a Nabatean, Roman and Byzantine settlement. Some people think maybe Ottoman too, but that needs some proving yet.
Amazing what you can do with a bit of water collection technology and th desert. The soil is good, it just neeeds the precious liquid and the ways they collect and store the stuff is blowing my mind. Truly amazing and something that I will undoubtedly comment more on later. Suffice to say there are cisterns used by teh Bedo\uin today that were built over 1000 years ago. Nuts.
Speaking of the Bedouin...we hire a bunch to help us on the site and as we wqere finishing up today they started shuoting and arguing amongst themselves and with our guy from teh Jordanian ministry of antiquities. There are four main family groups in the area and the largest is also the most wealthy. We try to give out jobs to everyone and because of the above situation it isn't right to dole it out just on a ratio of population basis.
ANyway, the shouting a shaking of fists suddenly turned into 'The Dustup in the Desert' 'The Debacle in the Desert'...whatever, they started wipping rocks at eachother. AWESOME! It didn't last too long but it was pretty sweet.
Turns out one of the guys was pretending to be the head of the cooperative, of which all familis are members. He wasnted the watchman job for himself because it pays the best (over time etc) and you just need to sit around and drink tea. Our people figured it out and went to talk to the legit cooperative headman, and all seems to now be good. Con artists, gotta lov 'em.
OOOOH! I should also mention we were exploring the Aqaba Fort that TE Lawrence so famously took after runnning ut of the mountains mentioned earlier, and we drive past Wadi Raum on our way to the dig site (where Lawrence camped for a while). Neato. I guess I'll have to watch the movie again.
Okay, the smoke in here is starting t bug me...more in a few days but so far eveything is great.
Except my arabic...I just can't make the numbers stick in my head...I'll get there eventually.
flights and arrival
Good.
I was surprised at the east asian attendants on the first flight (along with some middle eastern women) and a tall Scandainavian gal on the second. Someone has since suggested it's a matter of Middle Eastern women only recently being allowed to work and a hold over of foreigners coming in from that.
Seems to make sense.
The Amman airport was fun if only because of all the no smoking signs and lovely announcement totally ignored by everyone.
We are all now well ensconsed at the Shokini Palace. Mr. Shokinin runs a tight ship to be sure.
I was surprised at the east asian attendants on the first flight (along with some middle eastern women) and a tall Scandainavian gal on the second. Someone has since suggested it's a matter of Middle Eastern women only recently being allowed to work and a hold over of foreigners coming in from that.
Seems to make sense.
The Amman airport was fun if only because of all the no smoking signs and lovely announcement totally ignored by everyone.
We are all now well ensconsed at the Shokini Palace. Mr. Shokinin runs a tight ship to be sure.
Travelling again
Woot.
On the road again. I'm not really in the mood to write too much. I think it has something to do with the fact there are a lot of people around to talk to and the writing therefore becomes less of an outlet. The journal has suffered as well, but I'm sure I'll sort it all out eventually.
The trip began on the bus to TO. Managed to get stuck in a jam on the 400. Uggh. Some clever monkey had managed to ignore all the "if you are a truck don't try to go under the bridge on the outer lane"signs that I had plenty of time to read while waiting around. Crunch. They had to stop traffic to get him out.
Then my train to Montreal. Due to leave at 1130...delayed until 2 already when I check in Engine troubles they say. Found out later it was a suicide. Eeeps. Thought they'd just need a hose, but apparently everything is stopped while police investigate. Eventually left at 3 and got passed by the 310 express on the way. Oh well. I had planned to get off in dowtown, go book shopping then Metro out to the hotel. No luck with book shops so it was a just a lengthier trip as I could have gotten off at Dorval, right at the airport. Oh well. Poor Zoe, however, whose father had booked the rooms using his points was a little concerned about my non arrival. And because there was all sorts of mix ups on the hotels parts she never got the mesage I left telling her as much.
The montreal airport was fine...except for a debacle where we were trapped in the international area before they told us we couldn't leave. No Tim Hortons for me...settled for generic toast, egg, sausaage and potatoe over priced breakfast. They tried to charge me 1.69 for a so-called extra sausage, so I volunteered to toss it in the trash because that was just NOT happening and they relented, so I guess that's a happy ending.
Montreal airport. Take each step carefully because they'll trick you.
On the road again. I'm not really in the mood to write too much. I think it has something to do with the fact there are a lot of people around to talk to and the writing therefore becomes less of an outlet. The journal has suffered as well, but I'm sure I'll sort it all out eventually.
The trip began on the bus to TO. Managed to get stuck in a jam on the 400. Uggh. Some clever monkey had managed to ignore all the "if you are a truck don't try to go under the bridge on the outer lane"signs that I had plenty of time to read while waiting around. Crunch. They had to stop traffic to get him out.
Then my train to Montreal. Due to leave at 1130...delayed until 2 already when I check in Engine troubles they say. Found out later it was a suicide. Eeeps. Thought they'd just need a hose, but apparently everything is stopped while police investigate. Eventually left at 3 and got passed by the 310 express on the way. Oh well. I had planned to get off in dowtown, go book shopping then Metro out to the hotel. No luck with book shops so it was a just a lengthier trip as I could have gotten off at Dorval, right at the airport. Oh well. Poor Zoe, however, whose father had booked the rooms using his points was a little concerned about my non arrival. And because there was all sorts of mix ups on the hotels parts she never got the mesage I left telling her as much.
The montreal airport was fine...except for a debacle where we were trapped in the international area before they told us we couldn't leave. No Tim Hortons for me...settled for generic toast, egg, sausaage and potatoe over priced breakfast. They tried to charge me 1.69 for a so-called extra sausage, so I volunteered to toss it in the trash because that was just NOT happening and they relented, so I guess that's a happy ending.
Montreal airport. Take each step carefully because they'll trick you.
Monday, April 11, 2005
goodbye and hello
I leave Japan specifically and Asia genrally tomorrow (April 12) at 620PM. I land in Vancouver tomorrow (April 12) at 11AM or thereabouts.
FUN! Bonus day for me. I'd better make the most of it. One of my April 12s will be spent sitting around at an airport unfortunately because Giuliana has to work and I'd rather sit at an airport than carry my bag around all day. Hopefully the other one will be spent on something constructive like struggling desperately to stay awake.
No last big proclamations for my literally hundreds of readers. Just if you're thinking about it, do it. SE Asia is pretty darned cheap and a lot of fun. The worst thing that can happen is you hate everything and just want to go home. But really that's pretty good because then you can tell yourself without a doubt that SE Asia (or at least certain parts because everywhere is very very different) is just not for you, and you can gain a better appreciation of whatever part of this rock you came from. If you don't like that place either?
Eat a lot of condensed milk and buy my book!!!! (whenever it gets written/published)
FUN! Bonus day for me. I'd better make the most of it. One of my April 12s will be spent sitting around at an airport unfortunately because Giuliana has to work and I'd rather sit at an airport than carry my bag around all day. Hopefully the other one will be spent on something constructive like struggling desperately to stay awake.
No last big proclamations for my literally hundreds of readers. Just if you're thinking about it, do it. SE Asia is pretty darned cheap and a lot of fun. The worst thing that can happen is you hate everything and just want to go home. But really that's pretty good because then you can tell yourself without a doubt that SE Asia (or at least certain parts because everywhere is very very different) is just not for you, and you can gain a better appreciation of whatever part of this rock you came from. If you don't like that place either?
Eat a lot of condensed milk and buy my book!!!! (whenever it gets written/published)
my one complaint
I'm going to try avoiding any grand assesments of Jaoan or the Japanese, as there are lots of those stereotypes of the culture and people floating around, and I don't need to reiterate. I will say though that if you ever some here be aware of the theiry that Japanese people are aware of teh stereotypes that the rest of the world holds and on soe level encourages a lot of them to seem more different. Just something I've read, and been looking for, but interesting to think about.
Anyway...my one complaint. When I was walking to the wrestling show the roads immediately surrounding teh Imperial palace were all closed (4-6 lanes so lots of empty tarmac.) Very good idea I thought, nice pedestrian Sunday. The only problem was if anyone went to walk across the road at a place that wasn't a normal pedestrian crossing or began to cross without the walking green man showing they were bellowed at by men with orange "staff" vests and megaphones. I'm sure it sounded worse than it was because of an apparent J perpensity to have to say a lot to express a little, but still.
Why close down the roads if people still have to cluster around lights and wait patiently, while staring at an empty road. Was it the cyclists tjat seemed to be spaced about 100m apart (not many in other words)? I don't know. But that kind of senseless "You must follow the rules" business can bug me, and I was tempted to walk across the road just for the heck of it. When he started yelling I wouldn't understand, but I could fake that so to realy make my point I should have run around in a circle with my arms out making airplane noises. Darn it!!!! Why didn't I do that.
Oh well we can't live our lives in the past can we?
Anyway...my one complaint. When I was walking to the wrestling show the roads immediately surrounding teh Imperial palace were all closed (4-6 lanes so lots of empty tarmac.) Very good idea I thought, nice pedestrian Sunday. The only problem was if anyone went to walk across the road at a place that wasn't a normal pedestrian crossing or began to cross without the walking green man showing they were bellowed at by men with orange "staff" vests and megaphones. I'm sure it sounded worse than it was because of an apparent J perpensity to have to say a lot to express a little, but still.
Why close down the roads if people still have to cluster around lights and wait patiently, while staring at an empty road. Was it the cyclists tjat seemed to be spaced about 100m apart (not many in other words)? I don't know. But that kind of senseless "You must follow the rules" business can bug me, and I was tempted to walk across the road just for the heck of it. When he started yelling I wouldn't understand, but I could fake that so to realy make my point I should have run around in a circle with my arms out making airplane noises. Darn it!!!! Why didn't I do that.
Oh well we can't live our lives in the past can we?
Japan
Well I'm here, and stuff.
I'm not in the mood for a lot of detail right now (aren't I a grump?) so I'm going to just remember whatever I remember from the past week. If you have the good fortune to know or be related to Giuliana I think it'd be better to go with her accounts. She is a Japan veteran afterall.
First off, I have been staying with Giuliana, in her apartment, all oh I'd say 9 feet by 5 feet of it! And at 55000 yen per month (about $550 US) well, real estate isn't cheap, especially in this neighbourhood. She has to pay 100yen for 15 minutes of hot shower too, but everything else (including internet) is included. It's not so bad if you can get used to the size, but any great creations in the kitchen require patience and possibly lots of prep work in the bedroom.
While Giuliana's been working, I've done a lot of walking. Good time of year to do it as it is cherry blossom time and everywhere is just lovely. The weather has been really great, until today when it started to be cold and rainy so no complaints there either. I've seen the Sony store with all its fangled gadgets, including one TV that is constantly tuned to Canadian programming to demonstrate streaming over the internet from anywhere in the world. I was watching some shows being broadcast on the New VR (something Ontarians should be familiar with) and then the CBC feed was showing some curling. I watched, no one else seemed to care. Heh, whatever.
The Emperor's palace, it's big...and often closed, but I like the outer fortifications so that's okay.
I really like their various parking garage strategies, the giant narrow ferris wheel of cars inside a tall metal building is definitely a favourite and I just wish they would put a plexi-glasss front on the thing so I could watch them go round. Also they have lots of turntables in front of garages so you can drive in straight then rather than back onto the road you get spun around the right way when it's time to leave.
Tokyo keeps reminding me of 50s and 60s NYC. Well, at least pictures and video of the era, I wasn't really around at the time. After thinking about this I realized that the perception is a good one. I mean there was no Tokyo after WW2 and it was rebuilt in the 50s and 60s with I would assume a great deal of US influence. Buildings, subways etc. And every once in a while I see some fashions that make me think, "wait a minute, isn't that 50 years old?"
And yesterday!!!! I went to a wrestling show. Good times! Now most people won't know what I'm jabbering about with workrate or heels or faces or snap suplexes...so....I'll limit the nitty gritty. I will say that the whole event was treated in a much more ceremonial fashion than a North American show would be. They had teh drummers and conch shell blowers to open things along with torches and firepots at the ring's four corners that burned all evening. The rest was wrestling but that ceremonial bit intrigued me, and although I obviously haven't been here for long enough to know I think pro wrestling here is more closely attached to other martial arts, sumo etc than the NA equivalent could bne. There was as even a bunch of sumo guys out from training (hahahha) to take in the show.
I'm not in the mood for a lot of detail right now (aren't I a grump?) so I'm going to just remember whatever I remember from the past week. If you have the good fortune to know or be related to Giuliana I think it'd be better to go with her accounts. She is a Japan veteran afterall.
First off, I have been staying with Giuliana, in her apartment, all oh I'd say 9 feet by 5 feet of it! And at 55000 yen per month (about $550 US) well, real estate isn't cheap, especially in this neighbourhood. She has to pay 100yen for 15 minutes of hot shower too, but everything else (including internet) is included. It's not so bad if you can get used to the size, but any great creations in the kitchen require patience and possibly lots of prep work in the bedroom.
While Giuliana's been working, I've done a lot of walking. Good time of year to do it as it is cherry blossom time and everywhere is just lovely. The weather has been really great, until today when it started to be cold and rainy so no complaints there either. I've seen the Sony store with all its fangled gadgets, including one TV that is constantly tuned to Canadian programming to demonstrate streaming over the internet from anywhere in the world. I was watching some shows being broadcast on the New VR (something Ontarians should be familiar with) and then the CBC feed was showing some curling. I watched, no one else seemed to care. Heh, whatever.
The Emperor's palace, it's big...and often closed, but I like the outer fortifications so that's okay.
I really like their various parking garage strategies, the giant narrow ferris wheel of cars inside a tall metal building is definitely a favourite and I just wish they would put a plexi-glasss front on the thing so I could watch them go round. Also they have lots of turntables in front of garages so you can drive in straight then rather than back onto the road you get spun around the right way when it's time to leave.
Tokyo keeps reminding me of 50s and 60s NYC. Well, at least pictures and video of the era, I wasn't really around at the time. After thinking about this I realized that the perception is a good one. I mean there was no Tokyo after WW2 and it was rebuilt in the 50s and 60s with I would assume a great deal of US influence. Buildings, subways etc. And every once in a while I see some fashions that make me think, "wait a minute, isn't that 50 years old?"
And yesterday!!!! I went to a wrestling show. Good times! Now most people won't know what I'm jabbering about with workrate or heels or faces or snap suplexes...so....I'll limit the nitty gritty. I will say that the whole event was treated in a much more ceremonial fashion than a North American show would be. They had teh drummers and conch shell blowers to open things along with torches and firepots at the ring's four corners that burned all evening. The rest was wrestling but that ceremonial bit intrigued me, and although I obviously haven't been here for long enough to know I think pro wrestling here is more closely attached to other martial arts, sumo etc than the NA equivalent could bne. There was as even a bunch of sumo guys out from training (hahahha) to take in the show.
Sunday, April 03, 2005
and the inevitable one more thing
Does anyone know why there is a peak season between Canada and Japan from April2-12 or thereabouts.
Me and the guy at Japan AirLines couldn't figure it out, but apparently it comes from teh Canadian end of things. The best I could come up with was winter is ending and people are going home, but that doesn't seem right for Japan.
A mystery!
Me and the guy at Japan AirLines couldn't figure it out, but apparently it comes from teh Canadian end of things. The best I could come up with was winter is ending and people are going home, but that doesn't seem right for Japan.
A mystery!
Heading to japan
I'm off to Japoan tonight. Will spend a few days there then I'm coming to Canada. Have you heard of this country?
And that's all I have to say on that topic for now.
And that's all I have to say on that topic for now.
So that's how it's done
After pondering how one makes friends and acquaintances while travelling I was walking up the street and a guy simply came up behind me and asked if I was travelling alone (in a non creepy way).
He's just starting travelling and was lookiong for someone to get a bite to eat with. I was unfortunately dead tired and had to turn him down, but I think I managed to seem odd and haggered enough he was happy with my respoinse by the time we parted ways. He seemes pretty eager to run.
Who'd have thought it was jsut that easy.
He's just starting travelling and was lookiong for someone to get a bite to eat with. I was unfortunately dead tired and had to turn him down, but I think I managed to seem odd and haggered enough he was happy with my respoinse by the time we parted ways. He seemes pretty eager to run.
Who'd have thought it was jsut that easy.
Stuff in Bangkok
When I got here it wasn't as hot as I'd excpected. ONce again I had apparently brought a cool front with me. Just as I was thinking how awesome I was yesterday heated up a lot, turns out I'm only so good..
The other day I stopped to look at a map. Then I looked down, and there was the cutest dog ever. There are a lot of cool dogs here, mostly because they're strays and therefore are all mongrels. I alsways think that kind of dog is awesomest. But anyway. I looked at the dog (who was shading under a tree) and he looked at me. I said hello then as I went to leave the dog decided I looked like a fine fellow. Would have loved to have taken him home, except for the worms and fleas I'd likely give him, and Hannibal would be certainly jealous, but it is not meant to be.
So I had to pick up the pace and get a lead. He wasn't goping to speed up too much in the heat so I made it around a corner. When I looked back he was looking around a little put out but soon enough found an even shadier spot. SO everything worked out!
I also was in the neighbourhood (Patpong) so decided to look for all the nasty strip clubs and bars and seeedier stuff of Bangkok that is supposed to be a quite a sight. I guess I was in teh wrong neighbourhood, however, because I found nothing. Well that's a lie, I did see a bar called Boy Zone (or something like that) but that's hardly a thriving brothel district.
Some girls are hippies. Other girls have the hippy look. Like seeing a "Hippy" with a brand new Lonely Planet seems odd, passing girls that at first glance appear hippyish, only to have your sense blotted out by too much high quality perfume also seems odd. Heh, everyone has a look I suppose. As long as they stand by the whole free love thing I don't think anyone will complain.
The other day I stopped to look at a map. Then I looked down, and there was the cutest dog ever. There are a lot of cool dogs here, mostly because they're strays and therefore are all mongrels. I alsways think that kind of dog is awesomest. But anyway. I looked at the dog (who was shading under a tree) and he looked at me. I said hello then as I went to leave the dog decided I looked like a fine fellow. Would have loved to have taken him home, except for the worms and fleas I'd likely give him, and Hannibal would be certainly jealous, but it is not meant to be.
So I had to pick up the pace and get a lead. He wasn't goping to speed up too much in the heat so I made it around a corner. When I looked back he was looking around a little put out but soon enough found an even shadier spot. SO everything worked out!
I also was in the neighbourhood (Patpong) so decided to look for all the nasty strip clubs and bars and seeedier stuff of Bangkok that is supposed to be a quite a sight. I guess I was in teh wrong neighbourhood, however, because I found nothing. Well that's a lie, I did see a bar called Boy Zone (or something like that) but that's hardly a thriving brothel district.
Some girls are hippies. Other girls have the hippy look. Like seeing a "Hippy" with a brand new Lonely Planet seems odd, passing girls that at first glance appear hippyish, only to have your sense blotted out by too much high quality perfume also seems odd. Heh, everyone has a look I suppose. As long as they stand by the whole free love thing I don't think anyone will complain.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Food
Tha hardest thing about saying goodbye is going to be the food.
Especially here in Bangkok, where it is all so very cheap and there is such a diversity. The people I see sitting in restaurants munching on garlic bread and spaghetti...I dunno. I'd like some of thjat too but why bother when I can eat it at home.
I am currently trying to eat all the things I've eaten already, one last time. A noble cause but it can't be good for the waistline. Especially when you buy the huge pack of coconut puddings instead of the more logical smaller version. But they're sooooo good.
Along these food lines, the roti I find here just isn't the same as all the deliciousness available in roti form in Malaysia. They are so yummy down there, and bigger! Also, the preparation of rotis with the guys throwing the dough around stretching it out before folding it in on itself to fry is a sisght to behold. I thook a picture of a guy doing it here, but really should have taken on in Malaysia. When I got back here and watched one being made for the first time I was very disappointed. The skill just was not there. The dough rips, they don't stretch it as much...alas!
Good bye fruitshakes, and fruit and pad thai and rice porridge (that'll probably be in Japan mind you) and jelly ice sweets and rotis and sweet milk (I am buying tins when I get home) and all the other yummies. And goodbye to those low low prices.
And I finally had a REALLY good papya salad. I bought it from a lady with the whole 2 baskets setup (another important "last of" to get). I made sure to ask for no spicey and only got a touch of the dried sdhrimp fishy seasoning. It was REALLY good (as the other big REALLY above demonstrated). My fiorst papaya salad was in Bangkok early on, pre spicey knowledge and WOW! It was a tough sweaty lunch that I couldn't finsih followed that evening by...welll...yes. I also has another one in Luang Prabang but it was too fishy.
The only problem with stumbling upon a perfect salad this late in the game is the fact it makes me want top stay longer. Just for a salad! Now that's good!
Especially here in Bangkok, where it is all so very cheap and there is such a diversity. The people I see sitting in restaurants munching on garlic bread and spaghetti...I dunno. I'd like some of thjat too but why bother when I can eat it at home.
I am currently trying to eat all the things I've eaten already, one last time. A noble cause but it can't be good for the waistline. Especially when you buy the huge pack of coconut puddings instead of the more logical smaller version. But they're sooooo good.
Along these food lines, the roti I find here just isn't the same as all the deliciousness available in roti form in Malaysia. They are so yummy down there, and bigger! Also, the preparation of rotis with the guys throwing the dough around stretching it out before folding it in on itself to fry is a sisght to behold. I thook a picture of a guy doing it here, but really should have taken on in Malaysia. When I got back here and watched one being made for the first time I was very disappointed. The skill just was not there. The dough rips, they don't stretch it as much...alas!
Good bye fruitshakes, and fruit and pad thai and rice porridge (that'll probably be in Japan mind you) and jelly ice sweets and rotis and sweet milk (I am buying tins when I get home) and all the other yummies. And goodbye to those low low prices.
And I finally had a REALLY good papya salad. I bought it from a lady with the whole 2 baskets setup (another important "last of" to get). I made sure to ask for no spicey and only got a touch of the dried sdhrimp fishy seasoning. It was REALLY good (as the other big REALLY above demonstrated). My fiorst papaya salad was in Bangkok early on, pre spicey knowledge and WOW! It was a tough sweaty lunch that I couldn't finsih followed that evening by...welll...yes. I also has another one in Luang Prabang but it was too fishy.
The only problem with stumbling upon a perfect salad this late in the game is the fact it makes me want top stay longer. Just for a salad! Now that's good!
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