Cappadocia and Goreme, Turkey

Fairy Chimney rock formation.

      I could not stop thinking about a place my friend Adam had told me about. “Bri, make sure you make it to Cappadocia. You should really plan on going there.” Being the procrastinator that I am, I had not followed his advice. Seeing a picture of the unique rock formations convinced me that I had to go. My every thought became engulfed with thoughts of visiting Cappadocia. I had to be there before I left Turkey. Now that I decided to go, I had to convince my traveling companions. My obsession with rocks and geology alloted me a thousand reasons to go here.

     Unfortunately, neither of them felt quite the same. “Bri, I mean, it would be cool, but I could live without seeing it. I really don’t want to spend more money traveling across the country. And we already paid for our hotel.” And my exasperated response “What? When are we ever going to go here again, this is so cool!” And my incessant begging began. I could not give up on my newfound passion-Cappadocia. 

     Even the name was magical. It became a land of whimsical beauty. I tirelessly researched transportation. Last minute flights were too expensive, there was not a train path yet, but there were buses. Now, I usually don’t take buses in the United States. They’re full of uncomfortable situations. However, numerous locals assured us that the buses were very comfortable, very nice. My constant nagging and eventual plan to go alone convinced Rebecca to join me. She sighed, packed a small bag, and we set of for our journey that night. We would only have one day in Cappadocia before we needed to leave for Istanbul and our flight home. 

     I’m thrilled, finally complete now that my newest dream was becoming a reality. We leave our hotel, Rebecca finally becoming more excited that we’re actually going.  We bounded down the street, armed with the small amount of information the concierge could give us “Go to the end train stop. Then find a bus to take you to Cappadocia.” But I wasn’t worried; we’re resourceful and could find our way. Hopping on the train, we realize that we only have enough change for the first leg of the train journey. When we have to get off to switch trains, we search for an ATM. Usually there are many around, however, this time there weren’t any. After a foray into a hotel, where the metal detector alerted everyone to our entrance, and a venture down a dark alley, we discover a little bank with an ATM. Perfect. We thought that leaving at night would be great, we could sleep on the bus and arrive refreshed in Cappadocia. Except wandering around a city at night looking for an ATM doesn’t seem like the best plan in the evening.

     Armed with cash, we now have to break our large bills in order to pay the train fare. We stop in a restaurant and buy some oranges, eliciting laughter from the clerks who don’t understand why we’re in such hurry and only want to buy two oranges. Frantically paying, as we don’t know when the last bus leaves, we sprint to the train. Hopping on, we relax and wait for the last stop.

      Arriving at the end of the train line, we cautiously get off and attempt to get our bearings. Glancing around, we see buses three stories below our level. We walk down the damp, dark stairwell and wander around the buses. One portly Turkish man takes pity on us, and gestures upstairs. Apparently we went the wrong way. We clomp back upstairs in our shiny sandals, and look in the direction gestured to us. There’s a strip mall across the street. Except it’s a bus strip mall. All the glowing signs written in Turkish were advertising different bus lines. We sprint across the street and start bombarding the men with questions. Unfortunately, not one of them understands English, and we have absolutely no knowledge of Turkish besides no and thank you. We finally scuttle together a semblance of understanding, they hear Cappadocia, but say that Goreme and Nevsehir are the same thing. We shrugged, taking the advice of strangers has become routine. Especially since we have only a semblance of understanding. 

     Ticket in hand, we walk through the strip mall/store/ticket buying center and enter the bus depot. There are rows upon rows of buses, waiting to take people to many places throughout Turkey. We settle into our Van Galder like bus, and Rebecca abruptly decides to find a bathroom. Her pea-sized bladder is the beginning to many entertaining stories. As she leaves the bus, a teenage girl climbs aboard. She looks at me, looks at her ticket, sighs in annoyance and stomps off. Five men then join her and start talking to me in rapid-fire Turkish. “Umm…English?” I smile uncomfortably. They all laugh in unison and the girl shows me where our seats are. And so our trip begins.

     Rebecca returns and we settle into our real seats, taking note of the empty seats around us. We envision a row for each of us and a lovely night’s rest. The bus’ attendant hops aboard and we’re ready to go to Cappadocia! As the bus starts moving, Rebecca scoots to the seat in front of me, and we put in our headphones ready to drift asleep. I’m abruptly startled fifteen minutes later by our bus attendant, grunting and motioning for Rebecca to move back into her assigned seat. Grabbing her ticket, he forcefully points to the seat next to me, and grunts unintelligibly until she moves there. Garnering the attention of the entire bus, our laughter is greeted with annoyed looks. We clearly weren’t making any friends. Ipods back in, we closed our eyes.

     And were awakened again by families and children boarding the bus, filling in the empty seats. Okay, now we understand the emphasis on assigned seats. Hopefully that was the last stop. 

A music video abruptly turns on at full volume and the bus attendant, affectionately deemed "bus mom," storms by. He hands out cups to everyone, and just as quickly, rushes through the aisles, pouring water for tea and instant coffee. The bus mom had taken it upon himself to focus all of his attention on us after the seat mishap. Rebecca had taken a cup, but decided that caffeine would not be the best way to fall asleep. She politely refused the bus mom’s proffered hot water until he became visibly agitated. The grunting and mumbling began again, scrunching his face to epic proportions. After numerous exaggerated gestures and grunts, Rebecca finally gave up her cup to be filled. And just as quickly passed it off to someone else. As the bus mom came by to collect our cups, he seemed utterly confused as to where Rebecca’s had gone. Dismissing the issue, the music video was turned off as abruptly as it was turned on.  We finally settled in to sleep.

     And then the bus mom was next to us, grunting and motioning for Rebecca to hand over her iPod. Bemused, she handed it over. The attendant wandered down the aisle, jamming out to her music. We watched him for the next twenty minutes, unsure of what we were supposed to do. He eventually returned the iPod, and we saw that his taste revolved around the Beatles. It's interesting how music transcends language barriers. Laughing and earning more disgruntled glares from bus goers, we went back to our music and the elusive goal-sleep. 

     Elusive it was. The next thing I know, we’re being shaken awake and grunted at to get off the bus. But only us. Hours before we’re supposed to arrive in Cappadocia/Goreme/Nevsehir, we’re being told to get off the bus. Grabbing our totes, we’re hustled off of the bus and onto the side of the road. Our bus mom waves as the bus drives off. A man in the same uniform as our bus mom gestures for us to follow him. At this point, we have no other choice but to trust him. Slightly panicked but again relying on the kindness of strangers, we follow him through a maze of obstacles. Across a parking lot, through a building, down an escalator, our final destination is a train station. Apparently, we’re in a bus depot in Ankara.

     Our guide leaves us by more of the glowing bus signs and disappears. And we’re left to figure out how to get to our destination. Pieced together through hand gestures and written numbers, we buy tickets to Goreme. Unfortunately, our bus doesn’t leave for hours. This cuts into our time in Cappadocia. But we’ve come this far, and I am not one to give up on an ambition. We lounge in uncomfortable plastic seats until it’s time for our bus to leave. We find our new bus, and are pleasantly surprised by the televisions built into the back of every seat. But we still don’t understand much Turkish, especially rapid-fire abnter. We embark on the last leg of our journey, and I’m so excited to get to Cappadocia. 

Outside of Goreme's open air museum.

     This part of the bus takes longer than expected, taking numerous stops in neighboring cities. We finally make it to Goreme, and it’s beautiful. Unfortunately, we only have four and a half hours to experience this whimsical city. We stumble off of the bus, exhausted from an erratic sleep pattern, but ready to make the most of the next few hours. The first thing we saw was a sandwich board for a travel agency offering free maps. We walk in, and the owner was more than friendly. He could not believe that we had traveled twelve hours on a bus to spend four and a half visiting his city. He spent the next twenty minutes discussing our different options for the day, and trying to convince us to stay longer. I wish we could have stayed, there was so much we didn’t get to see. Armed with a game plan, we set off for a walk down Pigeon Trail, viewing the awe-inspiring fairy chimneys.

     Fairy chimneys are an amazing geologic formation. They are immense, thin spirals of rock formed at the bottom of an arid drainage basin. They are soft easily molded sedimentary rock that is covered by a stronger stone that holds the shape. I was enthralled. There are houses, hotels, even a castle carved out of this stone. The geologic formations in this region are beautiful. 

Becca and I on top of Uchisar Hill and Castle, overlooking Cappadocia.

     We toured a bit by foot, and then stopped back by the travel agency. The owner insisted on helping us for the remainder of our time. He drove us to the outdoor museum, because he didn’t want us to miss seeing the paintings within the churches.  Goreme was gorgeous, and I don’t regret a minute of the twelve hour bus ride there. The twelve hour bus ride back was however, a struggle. Exhausted and dirty from spending the day trekking around, we clambered aboard the bus, an hour and a half after the scheduled departure time. I forgot-Turkish time. 

Istanbul, Turkey

Becca and I next to the Bosphorus Strait.

     After dropping off our heavy suitcases, Becca and I were ready to explore our new home-Sultanahmet Square. The cobbled streets curved around in a haphazard pattern, and there were hills around every corner. As we set off up, down, and around, we stumbled across a tiny restaurant emitting a delicious aroma. After satisfying our craving for Turkish flavors, we set off under a gate and through a carefully cultivated garden. 

     Arriving at the other side of the park, we found ourselves within a area thriving with restaurants and shops. We walked for hours, exploring the waterway and chatting with others that were enjoying the day. Returning to our familiar surroundings, we stopped at a bakery with brightly colored delicacies. Perusing the sweets, we made our selections, joking with the charismatic chef. We left the shop satisfied with our decisions, but didn't make it further than a few steps before we were stopped. The enthusiastic chef had chased us down the sidewalk and tugged us back into his restaurant. Plying us with tea and more sweets, he regaled us with stories and questioned us about our lives. He insisted upon showing us around his business and even let us help bake! Many laughs and a few pictures later, we went home amidst promises to return soon. 

Interior of the Hagia Sophia.

The next day we set off bright and early, thanks to Becca and her endless morning energy. (I suppose it evens out when I keep us out until late evening.) First on our list was the Hagia Sophia. This inspiring structure was first built as a cathedral, converted into a mosque, and is now preserved as a museum. The architecture was stunning, and we spent a large part of our morning exploring the intricate details of this museum.

Sultan Ahmed Mosque.

     We turned around and set off for the Sultan Ahmed Mosque, commonly called the Blue Mosque. There were two entrances, one in the front for Muslims coming to pray, and one around back, for visitors coming to appreciate the beauty. We headed around back and were given a plastic bag for our shoes, and Becca was given a  piece of cloth, as her shoulders were not properly covered. 

Chandelier within the Blue Mosque.

     The interior of the mosque was stunning. Called the "Blue Mosque" for its signature blue tiles, the colors were illuminated by an enormous chandelier hung from the ceiling. For as many mosques as we've seen, I never tire of their exquisite elegance. We then decided to explore the famous Grand Bazaar. 

Glass, clay and cement wall.

     On our way to the Bazaar, we passed a fascinating wall. It was made of pottery and glass shards, blended together to form an eye-catching piece of artwork. Plants grew over the top of the wall, forming a striking contrast that I wanted to recreate myself. We wandered around, asking for directions, until we made it to the Bazaar. Walking into the covered market, I was surprised at how organized and new everything looked. Knock-off bags, chintzy souvenirs, and shiny gold jewelry greeted us at every turn. Initially, I was disappointed with the amount of goods offered, everything began to look the same. But then we stepped outside into the uncovered market and found where the locals bargain. There were more streets than we could even begin to explore. Copper pots and pans, plastic beads, and designer perfume lined one row, while turning the corner led to garden seeds, silk scarves, and t-shirts. Pushing through the throngs of people took its toll on our energy level, so we tucked our bargained purchases into our bags, and set off for the hotel. 

     Luckily, Becca and I have a sense of adventure, because our return trip took about four hours. We set off in the wrong direction, trekking through the neighborhoods of Istanbul, in search of Sultanahmet Square. We climbed stone stairs, bonded with children (at least Becca did) and finally ended up back along the Bosphorus. Re-routing ourselves, we made it back to our hotel. 

The interior of Topkapi Palace.

     The next day, we set out for Topkapi Palace. The Ottoman Sultans lived and ruled from these enormous grounds for about four hundred years. There were fantastic examples of Ottoman era architecture, along with wonderfully preserved jewelry, weapons, and artwork. We then decided to return to the Bazaar, but to the area we had missed before- Spice. As we wandered through the aisles of the Spice Bazaar, we were easily distracted by barrels of cardamom, dried apricots, and Turkish delights. Our favorite treat was sesame and honey covered peanuts.  As we walked amidst the calls of "where are you from? Brazil? France?" and "angels, please come back," we decided upon gifts and treats for those at home. Home was no longer a distant thought. However, there were still two days left, and I was ready to explore a new environment. 

Thessaloniki, Greece: The In-between

Burnt in our train compartment.

  
      Taking the metro to the train station, Becca and I said goodbye to Hashim, and bought overnight train tickets. Finding our train compartment however, proved to be more of an adventure. The entire Greek army was on our train. And they were all pushing past us, in the opposite direction. As we finally figured out what car we were in, we stumbled on the train, delirious from a sunburn and lack of sleep. It's a good thing that we aren't claustrophobic, because the foot of space allocated to sleep in was quite confining. After watching Sex and the City Two (bootlegged from Athens), we curled up in our tiny spaces, waking up occasionally to apply more aloe.

     We arrived in Thessaloniki at seven thirty am. Perfect timing. Our train from Thessaloniki was supposed to leave at eight am. And then our adventure began. While Andy had thought that the man had said eight am, he actually said eight pm. There we were in the train station, a suitcase and handbag apiece, with twelve hours for our train. Never ones to overlook a chance to explore, we locked up our suitcases and set off to explore this new city.

     While exploring, we decided to be practical as well. Internet was on our priority list, as we wanted to find a hotel in Istanbul before we arrived. Finding an internet connection, however, proved to be more difficult than we originally thought. Especially on a Sunday in Orthodox Greece. Fortunately, we're very determined. After a few awkward conversations, an espresso shop that claimed to have internet but only boasted a scantily clad barista with tables full of poicemen, and wandering around with my iPhone trying to find a wireless signal, we found it.

     The restaurant was not open (Sunday), but the owner was sitting outside and invited us to sit and use the internet. Thank goodness. We quickly found a hotel, and set off for a walk by the water. Two Ice cream treats and a funny picture of Becca on a kiddie train later ,  we were on our way back to the train station. As both of us are great with directions, it took considerably longer than we anticipated. We stumbled upon a fruit stand and picked up some dinner for later on the train. We waited a little bit longer (our patience improved immensely on this trip) and we boarded the train in dire need of some sleep. But sleep was not in the cards for us.

View of Turkish countryside from our train window.

We were abruptly woken up about 230am by a loud, booming PASSPOOOOORTS! Startled and fumbling for our glasses (at least I'm not alone in my blindness) we opened our door and handed them to the night guard. Fifteen minutes later, our door was pounded upon and our passports handed back.  Thinking the customs part of our trip was over, we snuggled back into our blankets. False. Another Turkish man came by, pounded on our door, and again demanded our passports. Okay. And then the same loud booming voice was ordering us outside. At four am? Luckily, Becca and I are cheery people. But this was pushing it a bit. We stumbled out of our cramped car in our pajamas, confused and unsure of what was going on. 

     We stood in line on the train tracks, shivering on the border of Greece and Turkey. One by one, we were escorted into a brightly lit hut and paid for our Turkish visas. Finally, we thought we were finished. Alas, we were again mistaken. Another man ambled by our compartments and pounded on the door, booming "CUSTOMS." After finding out that we're two young girls from America, he smiled and said "Good night." Pleased that our baggage was not going to be searched, a rigorous process but even more draining at five in the morning, we laid back down. And finally our passports were returned.

Sunflower fields in Turkey.

     Perhaps the overnight train was not our best choice, but it was definitely an adventure. Next time, we don't need to bother with the sleeper train, as we were up all night anyway. At least the cheery sunflowers brightened our day. Onto the bus portion of our trip. An estimated hour trip, ended up taking two, but we finally arrived. A hotel has never looked so good.

Poros Island, Greece

At a restaurant on Poros Island.

     Tan and pleased we are, at Poros Island. After we decided to explore some Greek islands, it was only a matter of choosing which island would fit in our schedule. As much as I wanted to explore Santorini with it's white homes and clear blue water, but alas, this was not in our time schedule or budget. We eventually settled upon Poros Island, a trip that required a few hours on a boat to get us there. 

     We woke up at Becca's peak morning hours, aka freakishly early, and set off for another adventure. Making our way to the coastline, we found many ferries and chose one that looked promising. As Hashim, Rebecca and I ascended the boat, we chattered about our excitement for tan lines. Two and a half hours, two small island stops, and a persistent sea gull later, we arrived at our destination. We then enjoyed a toasty day of sun and lemonade. Content with our sun kissed skin, we boarded the boat back to Athens and our next adventure- traveling from Athens, Greece to Istanbul, Turkey.

Sunset over the Mediterranean Sea.

Athens, Greece

On the streets of Athens.

     Arriving in Greece was a reunion with an old friend. Wine shops, girls in little summer dresses, and shoe stores galore. But before the shopping extravaganza could commence, we had to find our hotel. Conveniently, the metro was connected to the airport, so we hopped on, suitcases and all. What we didn't realize, however, was how quickly the train would fill up. Consequently, we were smashed against Greeks of all shapes and sizes. Quickly, we realized that switching train lines was going to be a feat of physical strength. Dragging our two months of clothing and gifts along, we huffed and puffed to downtown Athens. Realizing that we needed a cab to our final destination, we hopped in and were taken to our hotel. Or at least, the first hotel.

     Arriving at our hotel, we discovered that our attempt to save money meant shady/sketchy/leaving immediately. Grabbing our overstuffed bags and running, we caught another cab to the hotel our friend, Hashim, was staying at. Becca knew Hashim from her Persian class, and he decided to meet us for a few days in Greece. Unfortunately, he befell a bit of bad luck in Greece. His passport was stolen, and as he is a Pakistani citizen, it took a bit to receive a new one. Thus, he ended up spending most of his summer residing in a Greek hotel. 

     Arriving at the new hotel, we were relieved to find a clean, modern establishment. It was small, but the older couple that owned it were very friendly, albeit quite lazy. We tugged our suitcases up a few flights of stairs, then set off to explore the city of Athens.

Outside of hotel Athinaikon.

     Outside our hotel was a plethora of things to see, starting with the flower and plant store next door. There were flowers covering every spare inch of space, and it was delightful to see so much green around. Besides the more modern stores and architecture, Athens reminded us a lot of Jordan. A bit run down, but a lot of character. 

Taking a break from shopping and exploring.

     On Thursday morning, we set off in a search of real coffee, the weeks of Nescafe had us longing for the real thing. On our way, we stopped at a local street vendor for cinnamon raisin breakfast pastries. Becca and I said goodbye to Hashim, as he set off to the embassy for a new passport. We spent a few hours shopping and browsing Greek fashion. On this day, a pension bill was passed in Greece, reducing benefits and increasing the retirement age. This was an attempt to reduce their debt. There was a huge protest in front of the Parliament, so we rushed to get there, to be amidst the police officers on horseback and throngs of Greek activists. The twelve thousand protesters managed to shut down central Athens. It was a completely new city at night. The lights sparkled, and the city comes alive. Greeks have dinner very late at night, ten pm is the normal dining time. Tourists are the only ones seen in restaurants before then. Our explorations led us to some very interesting finds, including this artist's studio.

An artist's studio.

     There were many art galleries around Athens, and this one happened to be attached to the artist's studio. Below the gallery, through a little wooden opening, were stone steps leading to this creative environment. Half-finished paintings, oil paint, and a pottery fire showed us another side to Athens, the hidden artistic side. Along with this little gem, we managed to have dinner at the most delectable restaurant in Greece- Paradosiako. The hand-written menu and husband and wife duo made the most memorable restaurant experience in Greece. The Greek salad was fresh and tasty, as was the squid, octopus, and cod. Everything was plated and presented wonderfully as well. The other restaurants that we had been to comprised of tourist dishes and prices. This was local and deliciously authentic. One treat that we quickly became used to was the complimentary melon as a dessert. This sweet treat was always a refreshing way to end the evening. The next day began our historic part of our adventure.

The Erechtheum at the Acropolis.

     Our first stop Friday morning was to the Acropolis. The Parthenon is at the center. This area was full of tourists, and we only stayed long enough to take a few pictures and read the signs scattered about.

The Parthenon, at the center of the Acropolis.

     The view however, was stunning. Overlooking the city established a deep appreciation for where we were, and the significance of the area.

The view of Athens from the Acropolis.

     Our next stop was the Temple of Zeus, or what remained of it. The Statue of Zeus was located here, and was one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. We also stopped at the National Gardens. While the Gardens were pretty, the most striking aspect was the turtle pond. After experiencing much of Athens, I was ready for further our exploration. But which island to go to?

Temple of Zeus.

Cairo and Alexandria, Egypt

Becca and I at the Saladin Citadel in Cairo.

     We landed safely to Cairo, and quickly realized the similarities between Cairo and Irbid. But subtract the welcoming friendly atmosphere. Cairo is definitely a tourist city, with everyone wanting money for something. And it is definitely not like Amman. An exception was on the flight to Cairo. I sat next to a lovely Egyptian woman, and we chatted for the duration of the flight. Her son and daughter are about my age, and she told me all about their lives in Egypt. She is more liberal than most Egyptians, but she holds to a lot of Muslim values. It was a lovely flight, and she gave me her number at the end, telling me to call her if I had any problems or at the end to tell her about my visit. She was the most genuine person I met in Cairo. Tourist attractions aren’t exactly the best place to meet locals, except for the poorest citizens hawking their wares. Our guide picked us up at the airport (after a false panic when we couldn’t find our bags and then realized someone had taken them off the belt.) We transferred to the Horizon hotel, which is very new, exceptionally clean, and extremely protected. The guard with the machine gun outside our hotel was very different from the laid back nature of Aphamia hotel.

Step Pyramids of Sakkara.

     We were picked up at 9am the next morning, which was very early for me and late for Rebecca. Our hotel provides a breakfast in the morning that only slightly resembles the fresh Arabic breakfast that we’ve grown accustomed to. There is not any hummus but there is an awful attempt at falafel. At least the croissants are delicious. Our tour is private, and we have a tour guide along with a driver. Our tour guide, Mohammed, first took us to the Step Pyramids of Sakkara. They are the first pyramids of Egypt. The first Egyptian statue was found here, and this site was the first to use stone instead of mud brick. We were then taken to a carpet school. Children and young adults from poor families are sent to learn how to become carpet weavers. There were carpets made of silk and two types of wool. All three of us tried weaving, but the students there are much more adept. We were then taken upstairs and given a carpet “show.” Andy wanted to support the school, but Becca and I suspected that the students did not receiving any of the money. He bought a rug and we left the carpet school.

Hieroglyphs within the Tombs of the Nobles and High Priests.

     We next went to the Tombs of the Nobles and High Priests. We climbed awkwardly down a weird ladder into the tomb. This tomb had really cool hieroglyphs that the Pyramids of Giza did not. We were then taken to a perfume shop, where we watched a glass bottle blown. We were also given a sales pitch, which felt exactly like kiosks at the Woodfield. The perfumes were pleasant, but we were waiting for Khan Khalili, the bazaar. We declined to buy any and left the store, hoping that this was the last tourist store that we would be taken to.

The Great Pyramid of Khufu and the Pyramid of Khafre.

     Then, we went to the most known tourist attractions, the Pyramids of Giza and the Sphinx. The Great Pyramid of Giza is the only largely intact Wonder of the Ancient World. The pyramid was built for the fourth dynasty Egyptian Pharaoh Khufu. The pyramids were originally covered with a layer of pink limestone to protect from thieves. There is still a bit left on the Pyramid of Khafre. It was really interesting to see the city of Cairo right outside the pyramids. They’re not in the middle of the desert as I originally thought of them. We went on a camel ride behind the pyramids. Camels are taller than I thought, and the way that they amble around made me feel like I was going to tilt off at any second. We also took some pictures that our guide said “would be the ones that we would frame and keep forever.” Yes, they’re cool pictures, but I think there are some better ones. 

The Great Sphinx of Giza.

     The Sphinx was our next stop. I was surprised that that it was so small. I expected something more grand and imposing. The head of the Sphinx is thought to be of the pharaoh Khafra. We took some more pictures, and avoided the sellers with a simple لا شوكرن. Most were surprised when we said simple words like نام  or لا . Apparently in the tourist areas no one learns even simple phrases, so they left us alone. Exhausted from the burning sun, we headed back to our hotel for the night.

Looking over Cairo from the Citadel.

Bell tower within the Citadel, a gift from France.

     The next day, we were again picked up at 8am. We headed to the highest point in Cairo, the Saladin Citadel. El Naser Mohamed Ibn Qalawoon was the first mosque in Cairo and was created from items taken from other mosques and churches. Interestingly, some of the pillars inside had crosses on them, because no one realized this when they were building it. It was considered the most beautiful mosque for centuries. Inside the mosque, you must remove your shoes and leave them by the door. If you’re not wearing appropriate clothing, you’re given a large sage green cloak to cover yourself properly. I was surprised by the amount of skin many tourists were showing. We were mainly around other tourists, but we are still in a predominantly Muslim country. It seemed very disrespectful to the culture to traveling around dressed as they were. As hot as it was, Becca and I wore clothes suitable to the environment that we were in, pants or long skirts, shoulders to elbows covered, and a scarf wrapped around our neck.

Lights within the Mosque of Mohamed Ali.

     We walked around the Citadel and saw the place where a previous president had destroyed part of the jail he had been held in. The Mosque of Mohamed Ali was next on our list. It is a replica of the Yeni Mosque built in Turkey, which we are going to see in a few days. There were hundreds of lights hanging from the ceiling, creating an ethereal atmosphere. This Ottoman mosque is also the location of Mohamed Ali Pasha’s grave. It was so beautiful.

     We went next to Coptic Cairo. The first stop was the Hanging Church. The Hanging Church was built on top of an old Roman fortress. It is the most famous Coptic Orthodox Churches. It was really cool to see the Babylon Fortress right underneath the church. The stained glass inside the church was very pretty. Inside the church, some Egyptian girls tried to get our attention, and then asked if I was Egyptian. They quickly apologized, but I still wonder what they were going to say. Apparently, I can pass for a local as long as I don’t speak. Throughout our time here, many people have thought that I was Egyptian. Interesting. Also, no one believes that we are from England or Canada. Our guide told us not to tell people that we are from America, because people will try to rip us off. The people we tell laugh, and we know that they do not believe us. With our experience in Jordan, Becca and I are pretty good at adjusting the price to fit what is right anyway. We headed to a synagogue in Old Cairo, which is right by the Hanging Church. This synagogue, the Ben Ezra, was sold by the Coptic Church in order to pay taxes. Next, we went to a church where the Holy Family stayed. This church, the Saints Sergius and Bacchus Church was lovely as well.

     Andy, Becca, and I were then dropped off at the bazaar of Khan Khalili, which was a crazy market of perfume, scarves, trinkets, and clothes. There was about a four foot walkway between both sides, and it was ridiculously crowded. Amidst the shouts of “hey blondie, I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I have it, and free today,” we managed to acquire some fantastic deals. Becca and I are quite adept at bargaining with people. The men would chase us down the row after we refused their “final” price. We went in the afternoon, but one man gave us our price because he thought it would bring him luck for the day. If you go in the morning, people are more willing to give you a good price because they believe the first sale of the day will bring them luck. It was an interesting experience, but oddly, I didn’t feel uncomfortable in the atmosphere. Even with how crowded it was and people trying to get our attention, I never felt threatened or unsafe. Armed with a few bags of gifts, we headed to the Egyptian Museum.

     I was very disappointed that we were not allowed to take pictures within the Egyptian Museum. And then I realized why. The Museum was not temperature controlled and while some items were arranged, others were strewn about haphazardly. Many things were not behind glass or protected. Interestingly, the first floor was all artifacts found for Egypt’s history, and the entire second floor contained only items found in King Tutankhamen’s tomb. His tomb was the only one that was not ravaged by thieves. There were so many items found buried with him. There were thirteen gold plated cases that his sarcophagus was placed in. His Coptic jars were even on display, with dried blood visible within them. One room was temperature controlled, and it contained all of the jewelry that this king was buried with. There were beautiful rings with precious stones, and many necklaces and bracelets. As they were wrapping his body in gauze, they would add jewelry between the layers. Turquoise was a very popular color. Also, I could not believe how much gold was used in the burial. The floor was immense. It was depressing to realize that the rest of Egypt’s history could be contained within a floor. The pillaging by thieves took away a lot of Egypt’s history. Still, it was nice to see what a tomb such as King Tutankhamen’s contained before it was ransacked. Exhausted by a day full of activities, we headed back to the hotel for a short rest.

Cairo cityscape from our flooka on the Nile River.

     That night, we decided to go on a flooka (sailboat) ride. At twilight, we stepped onto our private boat for the next few hours and sailed away. Sailing down the Nile was beautiful, and it was wonderful to experience what so many people have done before us. It was rather windy aboard the boat, and that made the impromptu photo shoot a bit more difficult.

     On our first day at the hotel, Becca and I spoke a bit of Arabic to the man that carried our bags. He became exceptionally exited, ran off, and returned with an English-Arabic book with useful phrases. Each day after that, he kept asking if we finished the book and wanted to speak more with us. It was a huge book. There is no way we were going to finish (and learn) this entire book in the four days that we were there. However, he was very nice, and we appreciated his effort to help us.

On the Stanley Bridge, overlooking Stanley Bay.

     On day three we went on an adventure to Alexandria. It took three hours to get there, but it was a beautiful city. Our first stop was the Catacomb Tombs. The Catacomb Tombs of Kom el Shoqafa is considered one of the Seven Wonders of the Middle Ages. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to take pictures here either. We took a winding staircase below ground. In the middle of the stone staircase, was a hollowed out column with little windows carved into them. The body of the dead was lowered through the center column, and the windows were used to help guide it. The third level of the Catacombs was flooded. Daily, Egyptians remove water in the hopes that it will not affect the second level. Unfortunately, the water level is high here, and soon the second floor will be flooded with water as well. We saw carvings in the Catacombs that resembled Egyptian ones, but were markedly different. The important families had a room with carvings and a sarcophagus, but the average families just had a box-like shelf carved into the wall where they could put their cremated family members. Each family had their own slot, and could add or remove to it as they wished. As we walked between rooms, we walked on top of sporadically placed stones with long wooden boards on top of them. The floor beneath them was very wet, showing signs of increased water levels.

Pompey's Pillar at the Roman-Greek Monument site.

     The next stop was Pompey’s Pillar. It is the largest monolith ever erected. It is made of granite and is a Roman triumphal column. We also stopped at Montazah Palace and Gardens. This presidential palace was lovely, but did not seem as protected as the White House. There were many lovely flowers and plants in this area.

Inside the Alexandria Library.

     Our last stop in Alexandria was the Alexandria Library. It was absolutely gorgeous. Built in 2002, a Norwegian group designed it. It is surrounded by a planetarium and a statue garden. The Bibliotheca was created in the shape of the sun, and has characters from one hundred and twenty scripts carved into the Aswan granite.

The outside of the Alexandria Planetarium.

     The planetarium was created as the world, and has a circular shape. Inside the Bibliotheca Alexandria, there are four museums displaying antiquities, manuscripts, the history of former President Sadat, and the history of science. There are also fifteen permanent art exhibitions. The interior of the library is immense, with multi-tiered levels lit by sky lights. The library can hold eight million volumes, but is only at one million. Their website also has the only copy of the Internet Archive, digital replicas of many books.

     On our way back to Cairo, our guide stopped and picked us up some hareesa. It was delicious but not quite like Alahandra sweets. The hareesa in Jordan was light and coconut flavored, with honey as a natural sweetener. This hareesa was heavier, richer, and not coconut flavored. It was still a lovely treat, but with unexpected flavor. We could have spent weeks exploring Egypt, hopefully we can make a return trip soon!

Goodbye, Jordan

Becca, myself, Khaled, and Zaid.

     Our last few days in Jordan were some of the best nights. Our new friends, Zaid, Khaled, and Mohannad took us out to a club called 51. In Jordan, all bar/clubs must be attached to a hotel to serve alcohol, and this was not an exception. Walking into the club, I felt totally at home. I wore a dress and heels for the first time in six weeks, and there were many girls in the same attire. It was fantastic. We danced all night. The next night Hala took us to an outdoor garden bar called Shaman Garden. It was really pretty and had a wonderful atmosphere. We spent most of our night there, and then we went to the airport to pick Andy up. He took forever to get out of the airport, and we later found out that one of his bags had been lost. While we were waiting, our cab driver bought us water and some mandarin candy. More examples of Jordanian hospitality. The people that we've met have been so accommodating and friendly. They've taken us shopping, helped us find a place to stay, and taken us out in their city. And we could not walk down the street without many calls of "Welcome to Jordan!" I feel that that may be the only English that some of them know. Either way, it's lovely to be welcomed into a country with such warm hospitality.  !مع السلامة

Israel. Or lack thereof.

Dear Israel,

Due to our recent altercation with your incompetent border guards, I fear that any attempt of a relationship will be deemed null and void. Your blatant disrespect has further dishonored your country and has left us with a complete disinterest in furthering your economy. Good luck in the future, because this generation is extremely frustrated.

Love,
The country that you depend on





     This weekend, Akrum, Claire, Rebecca and I attempted to visit Israel, with all of its rich historical significance. Being completely dependent on US aid, you would think that Israel would be more than pleased to admit four American students. Unfortunately, this was not the case. After taking a taxi to the Jordanian border, another taxi to the Jordanian border exit, and a bus to the Israeli border entrance, Akrum was rudely separated from us girls and intensely questioned. Akrum happens to be an American born Jordanian. After questioning our motives for entering Israel "so late" (after class), we were refused entry. The reason they gave was that we came too late and that they did not have enough time to do background checks before allowing us into their country.  I may have believed them if they a.) didn't separate Akrum for intense questioning and repetitively asking where his other (non-existent) passport was b.) repeatedly asking me if "anyone" (while furtively looking at Akrum) gave me anything to bring into Israel or c.) telling us to come back in the morning and we "might" be allowed in. They told us that our first time in Israel required a three to four hour security check. To further disprove their lie, other American students had traveled the weekend before with less than an hour security check, with it being their first times in Israel as well. When asked why the security check would take that long, the iron clad reply we received was "that's confidential, we can't share that with you." Riiiiight. Perhaps Akrum looking too "Arab" had a little bit to do with it. Either way, we were not getting in.

     The Jordanian border guards proved to be correct. As they cheerily took us from security checkpoint to security checkpoint, they bantered with Akrum in his perfect Arabic. They laughed and told him that we would easily get in but he would not. إن شاء الله, he would. (God willing.) Apparently, Israelis do not want the revenue of Americans, nor this generation's support. As we politely left the border center, we were in a state of disbelief at the blatant racism shown to Akrum, an American citizen and student.

     The Jordanian border guards were the sweetest men ever, laughing and joking as they welcomed us back into their country. We went back to the Jordanian border and took a taxi back to the hotel, fuming. Keep treating people with blatant disregard and paranoia, Israel, and you'll be more alone than ever. Good luck, Israel, you'll need it.

Irbid, Jordan

Streets of Irbid.

A few interesting facts.

1. Cocktail does not mean alcoholic beverage.

2. Speedy internet is reserved for American cafes.

3. NesCafe will never replace a nonfat vanilla latte.

4. 1jd (1.40$) is an expensive cab ride.

5. 10jd (14$) is an expensive fruity beverage.

6. Toilet paper will never be in a public restroom. Ever.

7. Jordanians love Americans, but will charge double or triple the actual amount that the item or service     is worth.

8. Nail files and chapstick are ridiculously expensive.
9. Tissues are the new napkins.
10. Women dress just like us (in the privacy of their homes.)
11. Everyone wants to learn English. And a speaking partner.
12. Women must sit upstairs in restaurants.
13. Men hold hands with men in public, but not with women.

     I've had an opportunity to befriend many Jordanians here, and I've learned more about not only their language, but also their culture. In the beauty salon, the women were dressed very similarly to American girls, tank tops, jeans, with their hair flowing around them. Watching them dress to go outside was so interesting. They put up their hair, wrapped a scarf (or hijab) around it, and put on a long overcoat/dress over their outfit. As I got my nails done, they sat around me and chattered just like a salon in the United States. Except we don't have indentured servants that we refuse to let leave. The woman doing our nails described her trapped life as the owner's indentured servant. She came to Jordan from the Philippines to be the owner's nanny until she could pay off the cost the owner incurred to bring her here. The owner of the salon kept her visa and passport until that happens. Unfortunately, this woman tried to pay off her price, and the owner refused to let her. Jordan does not have the best laws regarding rights for indentured servants, so this woman, who has completed nursing school, is doing people's nails and slaving for this awful woman. Cassidy, Rebecca and I could not believe this was happening, and so blatantly. My other experiences have been much better.

     My conversation partner, Asil, is the sweetest girl ever. We speak in Arabic daily, and we also talk about our respective cultures. Women here have a lot more rights and are treated better than I thought. I also found out why women eat upstairs in restaurants. Women that wear the full black covering (abaya), must remove the face covering (niqab) to eat a meal. This cannot be done where men are present. This makes the situation understandable to me, as before I just felt like a second class citizen. Interestingly, women are paid the same amount as men, which is unlike the United States. Also unlike the United States, women keep their own earnings, while the man is obligated to use his earnings to take care of his wife, his children, his mother and father, his wife's mother and father, and his sisters. The woman here don't seem as restricted as I first thought, they just do things a bit differently than I'm used to. It's really interesting to hear about Asil's life and tell her about mine.

It's crazy that our time here is almost done, only a weekend of Israel and a week of class left!

Dead Sea, Jordan

Sunset viewed from Jordan.

     Travel lesson number three: Never believe an Arab cab driver. Our weekend started out lovely, leaving for the Dead Sea with 'the clique,' excited for the weekend. After taking the bus to Amman, our mission was to find a way to the resort. Stepping off the bus, we were immediately swarmed by every taxi driver in Amman. As we are learning Modern Standard Arabic (فحصى), the only people that understand us are those that have a higher education. In other words, not taxi drivers. Without Akrum and his عامسة, we would have paid a lot more than we did. The swarm around us began bargaining with Akrum. This situation was absolutely ridiculous. Six foot tall Akrum, holding a huge pink bag, bargaining with the herd of Jordanians, followed by five Americans. Each driver had a better "deal" for us.  As it was, the taxi drivers have a little game that they like to play. After reaching an "agreement," we got into two taxis and about a mile out, the drivers stop and get out to say that "actually, the price is..." After eventually (and by eventually I mean about twenty minutes and a lot of yelling) agreeing to a slightly higher price, we continue on our way. Dropping us off, the taxi drivers attempt to justify the price increase by calling us "rich" because we're staying at a resort. Unfortunately, this was not the last we would have to deal with these obnoxious drivers.

Floating, covered in mud, in the Dead Sea.

      The rest of our weekend at the Dead Sea was wonderful, and relatively uneventful. We checked into our rooms and were pleasantly surprised to find that we were upgraded to a mountain view. The view from our balcony was of the Dead Sea with Palestine behind it. It was gorgeous. That night we swam, enjoyed the swim up bar, and watched the World Cup. The next day, we awoke bright and early (thanks to Cassidy and Rebecca) and hung out at the pool. There, we met a group of engineers working for a consulting firm. They were from all over the world, South Africa, Canada, and Jamaica. They were working for a company that removes minerals from the Dead Sea. They took us to lunch in a really cute place outside of the resort. After lunch, we wandered down the beach and into the Dead Sea. I think I burned the soles of my feet off in the sand. Before embarking into the sea, we covered ourselves in the mineral rich mud. Venturing out into the Dead Sea was such a unique experience. The water literally pushes you to the top. If you try to stand, you "levitate" above the surface. The water was so warm, and it was weird knowing that there was nothing alive in it. It was also really interesting that Israel was just a swim away.

     That night, we felt a bit of the tension with Israel. Akrum, the Jordanian American, asked a resort worker what city in Israel was all lit up behind us. The worker sourly replies "It's Palestine" and abruptly walked away. We never did find out what city we were seeing. That night we saw a belly dancer, a band, and more dancers. We also heard from one of the hotel workers that not many Americans visit, it's mostly Arabs and some Europeans. I still can't believe that I'm seeing all of these places.

     Back to the taxi drivers. As there were no buses running the days we came/left, we called our taxi drivers. Shockingly, the price increased again as we drove further out. Unfortunately, that is how all taxi drivers in Jordan are and are an annoyance that I will not miss. I immensely dislike bargaining for everything. Granted, everything is ridiculously cheaper than anywhere in America, but it's an awful way to live. As we walked away from our taxi driver and our 20jd ride, I never wanted to get into a taxi again. Five minutes later, we got into another cab. However, this time the taxi was government regulated and not the slightest bit annoying. Our driver stopped at a fruit stand on the way to Irbid, and the vendors gave us free fruit and lettuce. Interesting. Back to Irbid, we immediately went to our most comfortable place, Port City Java. It happens to be the only American coffee shop in Irbid. And I've never been happier to pay an overpriced amount for a set price, no bargaining required.

Umm Qais and Jerash, Jordan

Our class with the Sea of Galilee in the background.

     On Friday, we had a day long excursion to Roman ruins in Jordan, namely Umm Qais and Jerash. Umm Qais, the ruined Hellenistic-Roman city of Ghadara. Ghadara was pretty deserted, which was nice since we had the run of it. It is located at the Israel, Syria, Jordan border, so that was really interesting. Israel occupied Syria, Golan Heights, was really pretty and has so much historical significance. Golan Heights has been under Israeli control since the six-day war in 1967. These ruins also overlook the Sea of Galilee or Tiberias Lake, depending on who you're talking to. It is the lowest freshwater lake in the world. After many photo ops and walking around, we headed to the Yarmouk River. This river forms the border between Syria and Jordan upstream, and Israel and Jordan downstream. We headed upstream, where there was just a river between us and Syria. In 636, the Muslim Arabs overtook the Byzantine Empire at the Battle of Yarmouk, which is significant because the Arabs were a small power until this time. The Byzantine Empire was the most powerful, but this battle started the string of Islamic Conquests following Muhammad's death This led to the swift advance of Islam in the Levant, (Eastern Mediterranean/ West Asia).

     Security checkpoints are really common here and have become slightly annoying. We have to stop at every checkpoint, sometimes we have to get out of the bus/car, and there is often a frenzy of loud Arabic between our professors and the guards. They all carry rifles and were very intimidating at first. Now, stopping at checkpoints has become routine, and I often sleep through them. There was more extensive security as we traveled upstream to the Jordanian/Syrian border, but that seemed more justified. Americans cannot travel to Syria without first obtaining a visa in the United States. After the many checkpoints and beautiful view, we went on our way to Jerash.

Hadrian's Arch in the remains of Ancient Jerash.

     The ancient ruins of the Greco-Roman city of Gerasa were in Jerash, Jordan. These ruins were a large city, and were really cool to walk through. This city is the most well preserved and most important Roman city in the Near East. This city was in the Decapolis, and has many well preserved monuments. These monuments include the Corinthium Column, Hadrian's Arch, a hippodrome, two immense temples, a forum, two theatres, and a large portion of the circuit of city walls. We wandered around the city, and stopped to take a plethora of pictures. We jumped off of some rocks and sat in a giant bowl amidst laughter from Gabe and Mike. Alot of us get along really well, and we have a lot of fun snapping pictures of each other. There's always one person that delights in making others miserable, and this group is not exception. Fortunately, the daughter of the professor will not spoil my learning or travels, but she will end up ruining her own. I feel quite sorry for her, but have so much going on that she's nothing but an annoying pinprick. However, it would have been nice if we were a cohesive group. After the day of wandering through ancient ruins, we headed back to Irbid.

     Another student on our trip, Mike, studied in Yemen two years prior to this trip. He made it a goal to find a Yemenian restaurant, and we went to it after our exhausting day. Sitting around in a circle, we were given delicious bread and then the choice of a spicy chicken, beans, lamb, beef or en egg and tomato dish. We scooped up our meals with large pieces of bread. It was a nice change from the Jordanian food we've been eating, and I found that I love Yemen food. Mike became my new favorite person that night. Onto week four of class and a trip to the Dead Sea at the end of the week! It's hard to believe that we're through semester one of Arabic!