tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22392546430796491802024-03-17T19:58:18.027-07:00Middle East Marvels and Musingsمرحبا! This blog chronicles a multicultural college student's experience living, interning, studying, and traveling in Jordan and beyond. In Fall 2012 I studied abroad in Amman, Jordan with the CIEE: Language & Culture Program. In Summer 2013 I will be returning to the region to excavate a Canaanite palace. As the Middle Eastern adventures continue, I hope you join me in learning about this spellbinding region! يالله!Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-80994699668719148602014-12-09T07:38:00.001-08:002014-12-09T07:44:05.794-08:00My new twist on cardamom cake<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I haven't posted in a long while, as I've mostly been posting on my <a href="http://mariellessafar.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">South Asia focused blog</a> but I had to quickly share this recipe for a cake I experimented with last night for a friend's birthday, which was an unexpected success! The cake is moist inside but crunchy on the top and not too sweet, and it has some Middle Eastern flavors I cherish since my time in Jordan, such as cardamom, pomegranate seeds, and pistachios. It works great on these cold December days when you need some extra spice in your life - and extra sugar of course! I hope you enjoy it!<br />
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Cardamom Yogurt Cake
with Pomegranate Pistachio Crunch Topping<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Adapted from <a href="http://www.thespicedlife.com/2012/05/cardamom-yogurt-cake.html">the
Spiced Life</a> and <a href="http://www.onceuponachef.com/2010/10/pumpkin-pecan-crunch-muffins.html">Once
upon a chef</a></i></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioOPSL5EwxAusNHzLJ-rh8-Js0MPaiMQOtsYxZvjrgDhX9LMSAmIBdmF0gtXDumrsETKfuIvsxdmBVXDtMtto_18siD4Y_WTwFhKcbRcIvMGE9wNNj1lUdwKbAHUcsUIULf2KgjTPKmu4/s1600/cardamomcake.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioOPSL5EwxAusNHzLJ-rh8-Js0MPaiMQOtsYxZvjrgDhX9LMSAmIBdmF0gtXDumrsETKfuIvsxdmBVXDtMtto_18siD4Y_WTwFhKcbRcIvMGE9wNNj1lUdwKbAHUcsUIULf2KgjTPKmu4/s1600/cardamomcake.png" height="252" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I couldn't get a nice picture of my cake, but it looked sort of like this. Photo credits go to<span style="font-size: x-small;"> <span style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.thespicedlife.com/2012/05/cardamom-yogurt-cake.html">the Spiced Life</a>.</span> </span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">INGREDIENTS<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">For the Topping<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">3 tbsp all-purpose flour</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">3 tbsp unsalted butter, melted</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">1/4 cup demerara sugar (raw cane sugar,
also called turbinado)</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">1/4 cup chopped pistachios</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">1/2 cup
pomegranate seeds<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">1/4 teaspoon cardamom</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">For the
Cake<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">2 cups (152 g) <a href="http://bakingbites.com/2007/08/what-is-self-rising-flour/" target="_blank">self-rising flour</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">1¼ cups granulated sugar<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">¼ tsp baking soda<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">2 tsp ground cardamom<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">1 cup low fat Greek yogurt<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">⅓</span><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;"> cup vegetable oil<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">2 large eggs<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">2 tsp vanilla<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">A dash of freshly squeezed lemon juice<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">INSTRUCTIONS<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;"><br /></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">Preheat the oven to 350 F/175 C. Grease and flour a 9 inch round
cake pan </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.533333361148834px;">(or use sugar instead of flour – it gives the cake a sweet lightly crunchy edge and bottom)</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">. Set aside.</span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">Begin with the
topping: Combine the flour, butter, demerara sugar, chopped pecans and cinnamon
in a small bowl. Set aside.</span><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">Whisk together the flour, sugar, baking soda, and cardamom. Set aside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">Whisk together the yogurt, oil, eggs, vanilla, and lemon. Pour over the
flour mixture and gently mix until just evenly moistened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">Scrape the batter into the prepared cake pan and smooth the top. Crumble
the topping over the cake. Bake until the top of the cake is golden and lightly
crisp and a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean or
with only a few crumbs attached, approximately 45 mins.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">Let the cake cool in the pan for 5 minutes. Serve with whipped cream and a steaming cup of <a href="http://www.ahmadtea.com/our-teas/classic-black-tea/cardamon-112#20-Foil-Teabags" target="_blank">cardamom tea</a> (if that isn't too much of a cardamom overdose for you - it certainly isnt for me!).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-8678359127987700852014-05-24T16:40:00.003-07:002014-05-24T16:42:07.299-07:00Throwback to living on the edge of Israel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am obviously awful at keeping promises to myself, as I last wrote a blog post back in September and even then I didn't post the planned photo essay of the visit I made to Rosh Hanikra back in JULY 2013! It's been a while, but I have decided that it's never too late - I will finally post about my visit to these incredible caves on the border between Israel and Lebanon.<br />
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Let me stress that this is very much a closed border. We heard a rumor of a guy who drunkenly decided to take a stroll in Lebanon after getting inebriated in Nahariya. He was shot. So visiting these caves was the closest I would get to Lebanon while in Israel.<br />
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Fortunately, this place was only a one hour stroll from the dig site. After convincing a few more archaeologists to join me after yet another exhausting day at the dig site, I had companions to join me on this little adventure.<br />
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Eventually we got to the border, where there was a beautiful look-out over the utmost northern coast of Israel.</div>
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Right at the look-out is a great little place where you can get slushies and ice cream - perfect on a hot sunny day!</div>
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You then enter into the place where you enter into a cable car, which costs 43 NIS and is the only way of entering the site. When we were there it was practically deserted except for a family just returning from the grottoes.</div>
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It's a steep way down!</div>
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Once you get down you can immediately enter the grottoes, where the incredible turquoise water glimmers like a gem in the dim and damp cave. Memories of "pirate caves" in Malta came to me.</div>
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After the little tour around the grottoes, which doesn't take more than 10 minutes, you come out onto a narrow walkway along the gently lapping Mediterranean.</div>
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The grottoes have a fascinating history that I had not expected. We were surprised to discover that a railway ran through them! Here is the information they give about these mysterious railway tracks, of course laid by the British (who else?). Can you imagine a group of people from New Zealand and South Africa transplanted to the Levant to build a railway line between Egypt and Turkey? The British really knew how to mix up the world.</div>
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Once you have explored the grottoes and the railway lines, you can enter into the final section of the railway that is accessible from Israel (and technically underneath Lebanon), to watch a mildly erotic and comically dramatic film about the myths surrounding the grottoes. Be prepared for the salt water they splash on the audience for "special effects". </div>
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Here is the heavily patrolled border. Hello Lebanon!</div>
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Even from the Achziv Field School, we could hear the unintelligible announcements and calls from the watch towers on the border.</div>
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On the way back we were fortunate to capture a magnificent sunset!</div>
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On a final note, please follow <a href="http://mariellessafar.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">my new blog about my upcoming trip to India</a>. I was fortunate to be awarded the Critical Language Scholarship to study Urdu in India from mid-June to mid-August. To say I'm excited would be an understatement. I hope you join me on my new journey! (Mera safar, the title of the blog, means "my journey" in Urdu)</div>
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Yallah bye for now!</div>
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Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-30511147406797644672013-09-16T09:05:00.000-07:002013-09-16T09:08:52.903-07:00Real Indiana Jones and The Return of the Blogger<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Yes, I know I haven't written in a very long time. What an awful blogger I am! However, after an intense month in the Middle East and a week of cramming for the GRE in northern Sweden, I was ready for a proper three-week vacation in Stockholm, Germany, France, and Iceland. I decided that I really needed that vacation and I'm still trying to prevent myself from being guilty of letting go for a little while of the billions of commitments I set up for myself.<br />
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Alas, guilt got the best of me and here I am, in the midst of the most stressful time in my life, juggling schoolwork, paid work, and freaking out about being a college senior and suddenly facing the enormous treacherous ocean of adulthood, and I decide to start blogging again. Nevertheless, I owe the blogging world a whole slew of posts about my crazy adventures this summer. I owe it to all the travelers who could someday benefit from all the misadventures and adventures I experienced over the past couple of months. It's also a way for me to stop romanticizing my journey and remember that traveling is one of the most mentally and physically taxing things you can do - but also one of the most beautiful and addictive endeavors in life.<br />
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The excavation at Tel Kabri in northern Israel was a
life-changing experience replete with new friends, new landscapes, and above
all new knowledge about our ancient past. Techniques and ideas that I had
memorized in my Introduction to Archaeology class back at George Washington University
were put into practice and, in the process, made more understandable and
fascinating. </div>
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Before my trip I felt nervous but excited to embark on this
new and rare journey. I had no idea what to expect and both before I left and when I arrived I felt
like I had packed all the wrong things. However, a lack of preparation didn’t
diminish the fun I had on the dig. The perseverance, mental and physical
strength, and good humor of my companions on the excavation inspired me every
day to work just as hard with just as wide of a smile. I truly respect the field of archaeology and its enthusiastically practicing archaeologists now more than ever before. I would like to see Harrison Ford try and move as much dirt as we did!</div>
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After the first week I already knew how to make pieces of
chalky mud fly with a pickax, clear up dirt with a turia and a bucket, run a
wheelbarrow full of dirt up a hill laced with tree roots, and carefully shape
the sides of a dirt square with a trowel or handpick. Our first probe didn’t
seem to reveal anything, so we closed it up for the time being. The next two
weeks I started working elsewhere on the dig site, such as trying to prevent an
Iron Age trash pit from contaminating with the Bronze Age palace, uncovering a
plaster floor, and articulating huge pieces of pottery. You can learn more about what we found at this excellent guide written by one of the participants on the dig:</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-family: myriad-pro, Tahoma, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 24px; font-weight: 600; line-height: 26px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><a href="http://www.biblicalarchaeology.org/daily/biblical-sites-places/biblical-archaeology-sites/tel-kabri-the-2013-excavations/" target="_blank">Tel Kabri: The 2013 Excavations</a></span><br />
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Throughout the three weeks the skills I learnt by physically
excavating were complemented by learning how to measure elevations and
differentiate soil and pottery types in on-site workshops, measuring out a
square and drawing a wall properly in workshops at the field school, and learning
the archaeological history of the site through lectures. Not only that, but new friendships forged on the excavation site were strengthened in evenings by breathtaking Mediterranean sunsets, local wine, Druze pita, and Israeli chocolate. After three weeks had
passed, despite being exhausted from pushing myself to my utmost physical and
mental limitations, I felt more energized than ever from a newfound passion for
knowledge production, new friends, and the exhilaration of getting physically
engaged with the earth of civilization’s ancestry.</div>
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In my next posts I hope to finish up some stories about Israel, starting with a photo essay of my visit to the incredible caves of Rosh Hanikra, literally on the Israel-Lebanon border, and a 24 Hours in Haifa piece, as well as detailed instructions about how to get to the obscure northern border crossing to Jordan at Beit She'an. I can't wait to relive all of these experiences by telling you about them. It feels good to be back!</div>
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WARNING: I am way too ambitious for my own good. I will do my best to keep updating this blog, but blogging falls under procrastination time so all I can promise is that I will do my best. Hugs to you all until then!</div>
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Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-70358419531875983492013-07-16T04:49:00.000-07:002013-07-16T05:10:13.807-07:00Weddings, Warak Dawali, and Water in the West Bank<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This post will be a bit different than others. I have a neat chronological timeline of my time in Hebron, which lasted three days in June, but I also took scattered, semi-ethnographic notes while I was there in unconventional prose format, and I will intermittently include them for added description of what it was like to visit Hebron. This post is more political than usual but I want to make a statement that I am not on either side of the Israel-Palestinian crisis - both sides have issues to resolve within themselves and between each other. These are only notes I took to explore different sides of the conflict. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I got off bus 21 going from Jerusalem to Betlehem in Husan, just past the West Bank border. I didn't have to show any passport, since they aren't too concerned about having people enter the West Bank, only about people leaving. My friend picked me up, since I was staying with his warm and welcoming family, of which there were four brothers, three sisters, and an aging mother and father. They immediately brought over the neighbors baby, and the love in Arabic culture for children was obvious as they swung this complacent little baby in the air and played with him and kissed him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was exhausted after barely sleeping for White Night so I took a long nap in the bedroom I would share with my friend's sisters. One of the sisters had given up her bed for me and was sleeping on a cot for the weekend!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After my nap we went to smoke shisha in
nearby village overlooking Hebron.</span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-2b8e970b-e68b-8a91-f352-4ccf8cf6a672"><span style="font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>A public garden in a neighboring hilltop village crawling with children of all ages and women in hijabs delicately wielding the jewelled and perfumed sword of the water pipe, men greeting each other and kissing on the cheek, quickly asking about phone calls and business, always a favor to be made. Everything precious in the West Bank - water, greenery, the lyrical voice of Arab Idol winner Mohammad Assaf singing for his native Palestine - present in one place, including a small area for bumper cars so that children can learn to drive the seemingly lawless Palestinian roads.</i></span></span></b></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My friend told me about what it is like to work in the court in Hebron, where he deals with around 100 cases daily. He got rid of his phone so he could get some peace when he was at home, or else the cases tend to follow him home. As he greeted his friends, they all asked "Where is your phone? I've been calling you!" We also met the groom for the wedding I would attend the next day. </span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The fiancé had looked exhausted and expressed that he wished the wedding to be </span></span><b id="docs-internal-guid-2b8e970b-e693-bab5-a695-149a35c7bbd8"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">over, that his soon-to-be wife will look like a clown in all the make-up, and he affectionately showed me photos on his phone of his fiancé posing while holding roses on a tan-colored couch, natural and delicate. Abruptly the phone buzzed and rang, and the high-pitched voice, tinged with jealousy as she heard my loud laugh in the background, was discernible. My friend leaned in to me and said "The bride won't sleep tonight because of you." And he laughed heartily.</span></b></i></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The groom was accompanied by a good friend, Tareq, who has started a youth organization and tourism initiative in Hebron, and used to teach corporate sustainability and business ethics at the local university. I was invited to sit with the men, and throughout the engaging discussion of business, politics, and history, I would occasionally glance back uncomfortably at the silent mother and sisters of my friend at the table behind us. It was clear to me and to them that the rules are different for non-Muslim Western women, and I felt like I was straddling two worlds - the male-dominated world of business in al-Khalil (the Arabic name for Hebron) and the exclusive sisterhood among the women of a local household.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We returned home as the clock neared midnight, and on the way made intermittent stops for falafel and hummus - anytime of night and day is a good time for a feast! We got back and all sat down to watch TV.</span><br />
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-2b8e970b-e6a4-2d12-047a-644c5929d912"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>On the television, which is always on, they switch between overdramatized Turkish soap operas dubbed in Arabic, even worse Indian soap operas dubbed in Arabic, Egyptian comedy shows, and Arabic pop music videos. - and of course countless commercials advertising everything you could possibly need for the upcoming month of Ramadan. </i></span></b></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Soon enough I was invited into the kitchen and we sat down for a feast. My friend's brother had made his famous ful, a popular breakfast dish of cooked and mashed fava beans served with olive oil, chopped parsley, onion, garlic, and lemon juice. For dessert they served me slices of sweet, dry coconut cake in front of the TV.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After the food the women of the household taught me how to make stuffed grape leaves (warak dawali). They take time and care because you need to carefully roll each grape leaf, so it is a dish that often shows respect and a great deal of hospitality towards your guest.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next day we woke up to no water, and the long wait for a shower began, which would last most of the day. </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><b id="docs-internal-guid-2b8e970b-e6a9-483c-5820-6de1b48e2d7e"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">S</span></b><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">itting room sipping coffee or eating fruit and watching TV. They pour expensive water bottles down the toilet in order to flush because cleanliness is godliness but the low water reserves don’t help with this ideal. The moment the women wake up they start cleaning. The mother exasperatedly says “war, war in Palestine, in Pakistan, in Egypt, war everywhere!” as she dramatically gestures at the coup in Egypt unfolding on the TV screen. Her middle-aged son clarifies for me passionately but with a serious look in his eyes that Israel steals all their water and that this is a crime - he points to the ground and indicates the underground water reserves, aquifers on West Bank territory, that the state of Israel purportedly claim for themselves. Here I see a battle of sovereignty, of environment, a war of attrition that requires patience and adjustment to hardship - no wonder the people protest, the hand of a foreign government is heavy-handed, a hand never more visible than when a lack of resources become evident in the homes of the humble middle class. </span></b></i></blockquote>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-2b8e970b-e6ad-95b1-216e-733b3e411ccf"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>The mother says “mai alhiyah”, water is life and goes on a rant about how this problem never stops, a dramatic hand gesturing and then covering her forehead - they want me to take this issue to Sweden, to tell people of their hardships so they can get visas to lands with possibilities where they do not have to wait 5 hours for water or to cross a border that locks them in like a jail.</i></span></b></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eventually it is only a couple of hours before we need to leave for the wedding and I still haven't showered.</span><br />
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-2b8e970b-e6d7-ed72-0bd7-803b7f7b8872"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>They take me to an uncle’s house to shower, laughing and smiling to make me feel comfortable and welcomed - it is special to have a tall blonde girl who speaks arabic visit their small and meticulously cared for homes - at the uncle’s house the bathroom lacks a light and we laugh heartily, a joke to be circulated around for the next couple of weeks - but sober faces then tell me this is a good thing, that I experience what life is like in Palestine.</i></span></b></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a quick meal of the stuffed grape leaves we made the night before, we left for the wedding, for which I wore a printed maxi dress and a navy blue shawl draped over my shoulders and cleavage. It was a segregated wedding, so I was under the care of my friend's sisters, who didn't speak any English. We entered the left side of the wedding venue, from where you got a stunning view of Hebron at sunset. Women in chairs lined up facing a stage, where the bride danced to popular Arabic tunes for her groom, who sat under an elaborate floral
arrangement, looking nervous but excited. The bride wore heavy makeup and her
thin figure moved gracefully as various family members gradually got permission from a loudspeaker to join her on stage. The groom eventually left to join the men’s party and some women moved to
remove hijabs and jilbabs, revealing short dresses, low backs, cleavage, and long hair that they have carefully prepared for this grand occasion. I was invited up to the stage to congratulate the bride.</span><br />
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-2b8e970b-e6e4-3cf5-e838-be71e5090ba1"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>As the sole (naturally) blonde woman, walking up the aisle to greet the revered bride, standing tall and skinny in her cake-like white wedding dress - kissing her cheeks caked with makeup and saying “mabruk, mabruk”, seeing her lips move and trying to mumble “inti jameela” before I’m guided off the stage, feeling hundreds of eyes of heads covered with hijabs eyeing the light shawl covering my tanned shoulders</i></span></b></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At a later point I make the self-conscious walk up to the stage once again to accept the honor of dancing with the bride and the groom's sisters to the one english-language song played in the whole wedding, “Number
one” by Helena Paparizou, which is appropriate since Helena Paparizou is actually Swedish. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After the dance the sisters I'm with tell me there is another wedding downstairs, and we go and check it out. This room is larger, with round tables and a stage in the center of the room. Baby pictures of the bride are shown on the wall, and the plump bride rushes in, dancing energetically with flamboyant arms as she circles her new husband. The sisters talk about how this bride is so much
uglier than the one upstairs. Here a pop version of the Happy Birthday song is the only English song played, but I am the only person who finds it funny, apparently the only fluent English-speaker in the room. The groom and bride of this wedding start to feed each other with
cake and no one understood what is going on – perhaps a Western idea they decided to incorporate into their wedding to appear cosmopolitan. The two weddings contrasted each other starkly and showed me that there are very different ways of planning a Palestinian wedding.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After that we went home and ate more stuffed grape leaves, and waited for men to
return. Eventually the men came back, bringing my favorite Arabic dessert, kunefeh, which is soft white cheese topped with semolina flour, chopped pistachios and sugar syrup. As always, we watched TV. They brought the neighbor's baby over and the baby danced to Arabic pop songs, his two-year old arms adorably raised, his small body moving to the beat. In the West Bank, they learn to dance before they can walk.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next morning there was no
water again, but I convinced them that it was alright, and we ate breakfast and then waited for Muhannad to
finish work at court. I spoke to the mother about her background and why she loves the
Quran. </span><br />
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-2b8e970b-e6f6-13a7-5962-4ab052e4a397"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>The mother told me her dad was an Islamic scholar, a sheik, educated at al-azhar university in Egypt - she has 3 sisters and 5 brothers - one of her sisters is in Amman, the other in Saudi, and the third around the corner. She helped care for the sick in her family and therefore never got to pursue an education - but she says she loves science, and she gets it from the Quran. She has read the Quran 13 times and listed her favorite suras for me, and explained what each of those suras mean to her personally - she said they explained life, why there is light and learning and children - she said learning is beautiful. She has only ever traveled to Jordan and Saudi Arabia to visit her sisters - imagine what the world must look like to her, a world without europe or the USA. All she knows of those continents is what she has seen on television. </i></span></b></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-2b8e970b-e6fb-5bc2-9df8-d48ca17e887a"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>A breeze from the window, the cry of a baby, the voices of women, the sun and the impeccably clean dirt-colored furniture - the humming and mumbling of an aging mother of seven children - the rhythm of a beat erupting from the colorful TV screen - carpets under my feet and the taste of watermelon in my mouth - the feeling of being alive, in a different life, a new family and a new culture - things work differently here - i respect it, appreciate it, and miss my culture - I want to show these people where I come from, wherever that may be, and I want them to respect and understand my home just as I do theirs...education is key, and travel is the highest form of education. It is a gift that West Bank residents receive. </i></span></b> </blockquote>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-2b8e970b-e6fb-5bc2-9df8-d48ca17e887a"><i><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Prophet Mohammed is quoted as having said</span><span style="font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 14px; white-space: normal;">“Don’t tell me how educated you are, tell me how much you traveled.” </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"> I wish the modern political framework didnt fence in such genuine ideals.</span></span></i></b></blockquote>
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</b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">During my friend’s lunch hour at court he returned home so his sister and I could go with him to his uncle’s shoe shop. We walked down streets crowded with entrepreneurs trying to sell various souvenirs of Hebron to the passing locals. I appeared to be, once again, the only woman around not wearing a hijab. We turned down a narrow alleyway and came upon the small shoe shop. The uncle was a respected man in the family, thanks to his shoe shop "Sara Shoes", named after his daughter. My friend and his sister greeted the mustached man by kissing his hands and putting their forehead to his hands. After trying on a few pairs on their insistence, the uncle gave me two pairs of shoes as a gift! The hospitality is baffling here. After the shoe shop we returned home, where the mother had made maklouba, a succulent rice and chicken dish turned upside down right before it is served. Once again, I am showered with gifts, as each sister gives me a bracelet or a shirt of theirs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eventually it was time to say good bye. My friend convinced the neighbor to close up shop and drive us to Betlehem - shop owners seem to choose their opening hours on a whim here. In Betlehem they took me to see The Church of Nativity, knowing it's a Sunday and thinking I will want to pray. Although I've never gone to a church just to pray, it's the thought that counts and I appreciated it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After this I crossed the border - the only non-Palestinian at this austere land crossing - and got a cab to Jerusalem. The cab driver was a jovial fellow, who responded with consternation when I told him I'm at an archaeological dig near the Lebanese border. "You're right by Hezbollah, right by Nasrallah!" He also told me the exciting story of Mohammed Assaf, who fled from Gaza to join Arab Idol and now fills the hearts of the Palestinian people with hope using the power of his voice, that can be heard on radios and TV-screens throughout the Arab world right now. It is amazing the kind of impact one voice can have on a diaspora!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once I'm in Jerusalem I get a bus to Haifa for 40 NIS, and then walk over to the nearby mall to grab a coffee before I get the train to Nahariya. There, in the popular Israeli coffee shop Aroma, I engage in an intense discussion with a social worker with a philosophy degree who tells me about Sufi beliefs surrounding the nature of god. He told me to imagine that I'm looking through a window at the sky. If god is the sky, the window glass is religion. This analogy has stayed in my mind. Eventually I finally grab the train to Nahariya and a taxi to Achziv, which I share with an Argentinian jew, and return to the Archaeological Field School in time to get a few hours of sleep before another day of digging.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next post, which will be considerably shorter, will be about my short time in Haifa, which I hope to post later this week. I will post about my experience of Ramadan in Jordan by the weekend. Tonight the family I'm staying with is hosting a huge party and the scents make fasting so much harder!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The excavation session 1 has already ended and I am now settling back into the comfortable familiarity of Jordanian culture. This means I am also so behind in my blogging, but that is partly because there is so much blog-worthy material on this trip! My first weekend in Israel was very eventful, and I had so much to write that I have split it up in two - one part in Tel Aviv and one part in Hebron. This post will describe my experience of White Night, a biannual event in Tel Aviv in which shops, restaurants and
museums are open all night and there is live music out on the streets.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The exhausting week of pushing myself to my physical limitations in removing more dirt manually than I had thought physically possible (at least with my lack of substantial muscle) ended with a quiz, a shower, and a mad rush to the train station. I treated myself to an iced coffee, a staple in any Israeli cafe, which tastes more like a very sweet mildly coffee-flavored milkshake. We caught the train to Tel Aviv, which takes about two hours and has excellent wi-fi. Israel has a great train system running punctually and regularly throughout the whole country. The whole infrastructure is very modern and the cost isn't too steep. It's another reason why Israel feels more like a European country placed smack-dab in the middle of the Middle East.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">We had all decided to wing it when it came to accommodation, so the first thing we did in Tel Aviv was go hostel hunting. Fortunately one of our staff members on the dig was kind enough to show us the way to a charming little hostel in the American colony, Beit Immanuel, in which you get a bed in a dorm and breakfast included for 125 NIS. The place is tidy, in a quiet neighborhood but a short walking distance from the thumping beachside nightlife of Jaffa. The dorms are spacious and the shared showers and bathrooms are well-kept. When we went to book our beds we found out that the whole hostel was occupied with more archaeologists, in Israel to excavate Ramses' Gate.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">After that we ventured in a random direction and ended up venturing like a pack of lost lambs into Tel Aviv suburbia. We eventually used our common sense and moved in the opposite direction, which happened to be on the beach. The benefit of our little foray was that I came upon the best food invention ever: shawarma with mango sauce, for only 30 NIS. Filling, delicious, and slightly sweet – it was the perfect dinner to have while watching the sunset on Jaffa Beach.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">After dinner we came upon a free concert outside Jaffa Gate by a band that sounded like an Israeli version of Franz Ferdinand. Although the music was pretty good, the best part was the backdrop of Tel Aviv's heavily developed commercial shoreline twinkling below the historic walled city of Jaffa.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">We soon left the concert to explore some more, and an image display outside Jaffa Antiquities Museum of a person pickaxing felt too relatable after our first week of being archaeologists to ignore. Inside they had a free exhibit of miniatures - think dollhouses. The art was stunning, with small rooms, buildings, and scenarios brought to life in the most minute and meticulous detail. Perhaps when I'm retired and not busy writing theses or pickaxing I can become as skilled as these people in creating miniature worlds reflecting and highlighting the beauty of our own experiences and memories.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">As we left the Jaffa Antiquities Museum, we passed the Arab Jaffa
theatre bursting with commotion. We decided to slip inside and see what the party was all about and ended up being handed plate fulls of Israel's national dish, shakshuka, a spiced egg and tomato dish scooped up with scrumptiously soft slices of challah. It was the best shakshuka I've ever tried, and it was free! The Arab Jaffa theatre also sported some stunning photography made by 10-yr old and 13-yr old bedouin brothers, highlighting the struggles of sedentarization of Bedouins, a historically nomadic people, in Beer Sheba, a central town in the south of Israel.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">After having two dinners, it was finally time for dessert: Ice cream! With our scoops of ice cream (I got chocolate coconut and ferrero rocher) we walked around the buzzing Jaffa district, leisurely observing the antics of White Night. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">That is how we came across my favorite bar in Tel Aviv – Main Bazar. This bar has excellent German beer on tap (Paulaner
Hefe-Weisen), free wifi, cool decor (not only is the bar made of pianos, but the DJ table sports an old-fashioned hairdryer) and awesome beats (an eclectic combination of indie, world, and electronic) spinning all night long. They even served me pepsi in a glass bottle! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">After getting our fill of chilling in Main Bazar and befriending the bartender, we moved the party outside and danced to the skilled reggae band playing on
the street corner outside. We then moved down a block and danced to some ridiculously cool drummers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Since we had two dinners, why not have two desserts? On the way back to the hostel we stopped in at Abouelafia to buy my favorite Arabic dessert, kunefeh - warm white cheese, covered in stringy phyllo dough or semolina flour, topped with crushed pistachios, and doused in sugar syrup. We also got BluDay, the Israeli version of Red Bull, to keep ourselves awake so that we could make the most of White Night, despite having woken up at 4:00 that morning. We quickly devoured the kunefeh in the hostel and then went to smoke shisha down the street, where we had memorable conversations about where we come from, where we have traveled, and where we are going in life. I finally crawled into bed at 3:00, after having been awake for 23 hours straight.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMhY2znr8COBk18YbvVchH0TYfi3jSvrioAmh95k5s0cv0_hrfNn2GEtdvKOQPzxa32hvBHEAz8edMMoDsSkS86s7Vll-Rz9j1iwsv-zAAVny6goDbAPmjGOeu9XmGSrgPA0j_hIyqrM/s1600/IMG_1713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMhY2znr8COBk18YbvVchH0TYfi3jSvrioAmh95k5s0cv0_hrfNn2GEtdvKOQPzxa32hvBHEAz8edMMoDsSkS86s7Vll-Rz9j1iwsv-zAAVny6goDbAPmjGOeu9XmGSrgPA0j_hIyqrM/s1600/IMG_1713.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4BKRSvmzrDcEop-D_mVKaYg-xHSK5mmy9JcoYmZnzxnPvhk0kBBI9KGBjcAekAH4GQGWVS36U9qR-NjnwMezY4d29bwJ_RExbxEQ4Rkty1At2hyDs6z4s4PRCu01L3EhIDMRaMs9VBU/s1600/IMG_1717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4BKRSvmzrDcEop-D_mVKaYg-xHSK5mmy9JcoYmZnzxnPvhk0kBBI9KGBjcAekAH4GQGWVS36U9qR-NjnwMezY4d29bwJ_RExbxEQ4Rkty1At2hyDs6z4s4PRCu01L3EhIDMRaMs9VBU/s1600/IMG_1717.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Despite my lack of sleep, I woke up at 7:30, bright-eyed and bushy-taild enough to venture down deserted streets to the Mediterranean sea for a morning swim. On the way, however, I did stop to get a large cup of Arabic coffee for 10 NIS. The beach, the flawless sky, and the memories of a beautiful and exciting evening made me feel like the world was smiling at me, as I danced around in the gentle surf of the Med, and packs of surfers perched on their boards out at sea for the first waves of the day. The only other people on the beach were a couple of elderly tourists and two men in motorcycle helmets, fast asleep in the soft sand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">After getting back to the hostel to pick up my things, we headed towards the bus station for phase two of my weekend. At the station I bought three enormous buttery pastries (sounds so good as I am trying fasting for ramadan) at the bus station for 10
NIS pastries. I then grabbed the 18 NIS bus to Jerusalem, followed by a tram to Damascus gate, and bus 21 to Betlehem. The rest of the story, which journeys into the West Bank, is to be continued in the next blog post.</span><!--EndFragment--></div>
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<u>3 things to do in Jerusalem:</u></div>
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1. <b>Visit Abu Gosh</b>. Take bus 185 (6.60 NIS) from just
outside Jerusalem Central Bus Station to have lunch at an amazing Lebanese
restaurant in the peaceful Arab village of Abu Gosh. Their coffee was so good
that we bought some from them and they gave me instructions on how to make it
the proper Arabic way. </div>
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2. <b>Stay on the rooftop of <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/Hotel_Review-g293983-d1117052-Reviews-Citadel_Youth_Hostel-Jerusalem_Jerusalem_District.html" target="_blank">CitadelYouth Hostel</a> near Jaffa Gate.</b> It is the cheapest price in town, only 50 NIS a
night, and you will have an unbeatable view, as well as meet plenty of
interesting people under the open sky as the holy city sprawls out beneath you.
You are also very centrally located in the middle of the chaos of the Armenian
Quarter. The lobby has free wifi and is open 24/7.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUi9l_0x5C1UvMmgcM2_Gl6_XjUg0MBtfGkQhRV39G9yzf5layX_yg4_XtdGHzj7eLLtO4AM9ucmPWYqSQlmHqjGXAfxn1b15lNtUHzaYidHgjeHwq7G-bzqur0jTY98ZLJmBkTr38vss/s1600/IMG_1840.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUi9l_0x5C1UvMmgcM2_Gl6_XjUg0MBtfGkQhRV39G9yzf5layX_yg4_XtdGHzj7eLLtO4AM9ucmPWYqSQlmHqjGXAfxn1b15lNtUHzaYidHgjeHwq7G-bzqur0jTY98ZLJmBkTr38vss/s1600/IMG_1840.JPG" height="300" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nighttime view from the rooftop of the Citadel Youth Hostel</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGaNfIWqeIXzI_Guc3RHS33gJC9NlyrzKS3MaBSVDS5hc2ursX-RTXJjTa5Bbh1mJ__rPr0EG3xL5DN5eKu22e36x8L4OPmu6EQZZ5IIk6ZmQubv07T7puejREJduxRx7KPylCEIGngqs/s1600/IMG_1831.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGaNfIWqeIXzI_Guc3RHS33gJC9NlyrzKS3MaBSVDS5hc2ursX-RTXJjTa5Bbh1mJ__rPr0EG3xL5DN5eKu22e36x8L4OPmu6EQZZ5IIk6ZmQubv07T7puejREJduxRx7KPylCEIGngqs/s1600/IMG_1831.JPG" height="300" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset view from rooftop of the Citadel Youth Hostel</td></tr>
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3. <b>Go on the Ramparts Walk. </b>You buy a
ticket at the Ticket Office at Jaffa Gate for 16 NIS (adult) or 8 NIS
(student/child/senior). It takes you all the way from Jaffa Gate to Lion’s Gate
and gives you unbeatable views of the city – mostly entirely to yourself. Once
you get off the ramparts at Lion’s Gate, walk down Lion’s Gate Road until you
get to Via Dolorosa. Then walk up Via Dolorosa, turn left onto Christian
Patriarchate Street, and then right onto David Street. Don’t get lost in the
Latin patriarchate like I did!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMAgPeSjNX17yCkCwwTrveYuDP5fxHDBvKq4sx1UUKFIYI_kC31evFHhBc12QwAuGkplHp5OFrRqjexML5KgxpIFA656NKrORrnTfaJhdp7jvdPGjiuN2nO-W7FcChszJPcpvJv1N8nUQ/s1600/IMG_1879.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMAgPeSjNX17yCkCwwTrveYuDP5fxHDBvKq4sx1UUKFIYI_kC31evFHhBc12QwAuGkplHp5OFrRqjexML5KgxpIFA656NKrORrnTfaJhdp7jvdPGjiuN2nO-W7FcChszJPcpvJv1N8nUQ/s1600/IMG_1879.JPG" height="300" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view of Jerusalem from the Rampart's Walk</td></tr>
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<u>3 things to NOT do in Jerusalem</u><br>
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1. <b>Step into a shop alone.</b> Just as I
passed Jaffa Gate and walked down David Street towards Citadel Youth Hostel I
spotted some pretty necklaces and stepped in. Before I knew it the incredibly
creepy young Jewish shopkeeper had snuck up behind me and started massaging my
back. I quickly mumbled that my husband is waiting at the hostel and ran out of
that shop as fast as I could. To all young women traveling alone, I know this
is a common travel story, but we cannot accept this norm. This morning I
learned to defend myself. The next guy who tries anything like that will have
scars to show for it. I urge all of you, even if he doesn’t actually rape you,
make him pay for even having the thought.<br><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuiCr1bzz0lOzHNg30hh2gljTGU8m9z9jaBrWj4Q71LPCPVg9Du282HSrYoVLx1-NAij4CQF3nhRdXi6bs1LcH0pLpFjzuMWthc0YUSd93Hfmc6DIK7VWsVlkIxEgcbLTWLqQuil_7JoE/s1600/IMG_1702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuiCr1bzz0lOzHNg30hh2gljTGU8m9z9jaBrWj4Q71LPCPVg9Du282HSrYoVLx1-NAij4CQF3nhRdXi6bs1LcH0pLpFjzuMWthc0YUSd93Hfmc6DIK7VWsVlkIxEgcbLTWLqQuil_7JoE/s1600/IMG_1702.JPG" height="400" width="300"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The chaos of the market</td></tr>
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2. <b>Forget your jacket </b>– even in the
heat of July it gets cold at night. Especially if you spend the night at Citadel Youth Hostel, bring a jacket or sweatshirt for the evening. </div>
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3. <b>Try to leave during Shabbat.</b> You
can get a sherot (minibus) to Tel Aviv for 35 NIS but there aren’t many places
open there either, and definitely no wifi available. I bided my time at Kiss
Café where I was the only white person. Tel Aviv is actually very diverse, and
this diversity is at its most prominent at incredibly sketchy Tel Aviv Central
Bus Station on a Saturday afternoon.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I know I still haven't posted about my previous weekend in Tel Aviv and Hebron. I will actually have to split up those posts because that weekend was so eventful but they will gradually be published over the course of the next week. Now I have only one more week at the archaeological excavation and then I'm off to Jordan for a week. After that it's Stockholm, Norrland, Stockholm again, Germany, a little France, and some Iceland. Lots more of exciting posts coming soon!</div>
<br>
<!--EndFragment--></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-43042764816424232202013-07-02T12:19:00.000-07:002013-07-02T12:23:02.088-07:00Recipe for Surviving an Archaeological Excavation<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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I’m already halfway through my three weeks as an
archaeologist at <a href="http://digkabri2013.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Tel Kabri</a>, a middle bronze-age palace in northwestern Israel. I’ve learned a lot already about what is necessary to
get through hard physical labor while maintaining a passion for finding broken
pottery shards. In this post I will lay down four key ingredients for surviving
an archaeological excavation:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> <b>
</b></span><!--[endif]--><b>Smile</b> – It is important to have a sense of humor
on the dig, because it makes it so much more enjoyable to get up at 4:00am, or
at that horrible period when you are returning to the excavation site after
breakfast and your body feels extra slow after swinging pickaxes and carrying
buckets of dirt all morning. Laughing with your companions easily replaces
complaints and makes the day pass by faster and more pleasantly.</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJHq_ZuH-9fEaoBojsn7YgZuDcK9b_-kREfOfdI6DIcvp2hEUyayrDLh-h29Tshtjji3oPFXWoKtLAriAx0yvhPSHmkFO7u7w0OMhLzupBMB8HUY43Su6DMxZP78BHtU89NfxakjpR2Nw/s1600/DSCF7232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJHq_ZuH-9fEaoBojsn7YgZuDcK9b_-kREfOfdI6DIcvp2hEUyayrDLh-h29Tshtjji3oPFXWoKtLAriAx0yvhPSHmkFO7u7w0OMhLzupBMB8HUY43Su6DMxZP78BHtU89NfxakjpR2Nw/s1600/DSCF7232.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif2HGlSy5JkD9fKK4HUcPBW8vTo0QfG_A4iWUh0tVv1cWeqgosDeaVFlSlkwhpJvzxvYR4rei85YdYPeGm4bdUSkiQhkCjzCXJrsNAJpPrBsLbKtiCNtqSJONycJqkWa024MPRe0QCw3U/s1600/DSCF7247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif2HGlSy5JkD9fKK4HUcPBW8vTo0QfG_A4iWUh0tVv1cWeqgosDeaVFlSlkwhpJvzxvYR4rei85YdYPeGm4bdUSkiQhkCjzCXJrsNAJpPrBsLbKtiCNtqSJONycJqkWa024MPRe0QCw3U/s1600/DSCF7247.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]--><b>Hydrate</b> – it is hot, and already before the sun
comes up you will break a sweat. I go through 2 liters of water by breakfast at
8:30. Unfortunately ants nearby also like to hydrate, so I’ve had to hang my
water bottle on a tree twig to avoid them crawling into my precious water
supply. Thank god we are excavating in an avocado grove!</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]--><b>Teamwork </b>– you are working closely with a
relatively small number of people for an intense three weeks in which all of
you will be pushed to your physical limits in extreme heat – and yet I have had
some of the most fun in my life! There is such camaraderie among us, and we
cheer on each other as we defeat the earthly cover of time and uncover the
bronze age palace we are excavating. For the people I work with alone, I wake
up at 4:00am with a smile on my face.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilfiaxVaC8mlYlR5XHJtcxhrNSU_T6EVMP778jJggJiFCJqMqyvCbK0gxSc6tOtRu4tmnUNu6YB_iz1paiikuUWbF88Nq19g1AN3I0A3Mf6xgCGg6Ih5mlwFpAOlBSIlRo7FmnhnoYmxA/s1600/DSCF7254.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilfiaxVaC8mlYlR5XHJtcxhrNSU_T6EVMP778jJggJiFCJqMqyvCbK0gxSc6tOtRu4tmnUNu6YB_iz1paiikuUWbF88Nq19g1AN3I0A3Mf6xgCGg6Ih5mlwFpAOlBSIlRo7FmnhnoYmxA/s1600/DSCF7254.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhObOdtk3zl2gSPhSqKiucl2M4lON02W7CwsDgxKmc90CX5AxjwivMOcPd2NNIth1IasPvvHabxRPaFIPEtYtsXSwRB-C4V13aaV3SaYXs0sdrSv2K8gVsq7AIYE_moDUi-MuOPPd0jB-U/s1600/DSCF7329.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhObOdtk3zl2gSPhSqKiucl2M4lON02W7CwsDgxKmc90CX5AxjwivMOcPd2NNIth1IasPvvHabxRPaFIPEtYtsXSwRB-C4V13aaV3SaYXs0sdrSv2K8gVsq7AIYE_moDUi-MuOPPd0jB-U/s1600/DSCF7329.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><b>Perseverance</b> – excavating is physically
exhausting, and if you add on a 30-minute workshop at 12:30, pottery-washing at
16:00, an hour-long lecture at 17:30, and another lecture at 20:00, both your
body and mind are ready to crash by 22:00 maximum. However, with everything
mentioned above, and by keeping your focus on your goal, to find out more about
the unwritten past, you can get through it and even have an amazing time doing
it.</span></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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I didn’t really know what to expect from this excavation.
However, I have had an unforgettable time with incredible people who inspire
me. Perhaps I may not enter into the field of archaeology in the future (though
it is too soon to say) but I feel that after this experience, I very likely
want to participate in an archaeological excavation again, because there is nothing
else like it.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4NwWHHRnpPIHkafoyTXhFSxJqZjlP8oDLtMMNxmWGDJimXGZ86Qob9hhzVXWXgXHrI97E9FJqTICQrHt5zxi1CxnRma7uMq6TBCuoUIeAasVZV9ZhBeqQASGAifRfZxFiMUl0eeRqkkY/s1600/DSCF7243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4NwWHHRnpPIHkafoyTXhFSxJqZjlP8oDLtMMNxmWGDJimXGZ86Qob9hhzVXWXgXHrI97E9FJqTICQrHt5zxi1CxnRma7uMq6TBCuoUIeAasVZV9ZhBeqQASGAifRfZxFiMUl0eeRqkkY/s1600/DSCF7243.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_CC4a69W2VKfqAjrnc6SPhdQv6auc2sqg8dia3DiT9tKcqiQNMysPI5MPh35EDR_T9rSFrjKx575sN21ukrqVfqVGDnH5RVxoIE-9jzyKhsswgQRy0ud24dTt0KVpJ_3Ikkoye3xKeBs/s1600/DSCF7322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_CC4a69W2VKfqAjrnc6SPhdQv6auc2sqg8dia3DiT9tKcqiQNMysPI5MPh35EDR_T9rSFrjKx575sN21ukrqVfqVGDnH5RVxoIE-9jzyKhsswgQRy0ud24dTt0KVpJ_3Ikkoye3xKeBs/s1600/DSCF7322.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">It is ultimately extremely satisfying, combining physical energy I didn’t know I was capable of and solidarity with an inspirational group of people, who all seek to pursue new knowledge about our mysterious past. I recommend anyone who is thinking of joining an archaeological excavation to do it as soon as they get the chance! Soon enough, I will also post about my very eventful weekend, exploring Tel Aviv's White Night event and attending two weddings in Hebron. Laila tov for now! I need to wake up in 6 hours!</span></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-55437505905504599482013-06-24T09:03:00.002-07:002013-06-24T09:03:32.429-07:00Poetic archaeologist or archaeological poet?Today I just want to post two poems that describe my morning and my afternoon here at the Western Galilee Archaeological Field School.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u>The Destructive Science</u></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Digging through the fingers</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Of history in soil</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Toil</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In a blazing sun</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And people blazing</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
With the promise of education</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
At the cost of physical exhaustion</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Take caution</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Archaeology is not the science</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
For the faint-hearted</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2T3SZuSFDAxvOS2tdyzC0ExHwdo7QsmqJAj6wmFtFoYjBC8SlPTJSzxpzRR6r6GbnAyPqn30yd4fZ8lV2vI9_1YgNq0sNY0lc9KS4OfKIp6fv1zHDw13MXV00ZoC_PLuWpanTmIoZQCE/s1600/983605_10102015975136514_1044759870_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2T3SZuSFDAxvOS2tdyzC0ExHwdo7QsmqJAj6wmFtFoYjBC8SlPTJSzxpzRR6r6GbnAyPqn30yd4fZ8lV2vI9_1YgNq0sNY0lc9KS4OfKIp6fv1zHDw13MXV00ZoC_PLuWpanTmIoZQCE/s1600/983605_10102015975136514_1044759870_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Photo Credit to Eric Cline)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u>Mediterranean moments</u></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Waves slope in</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Like time</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On the heavy beaches</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Of Human understanding</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Bringing particles of hydrogen</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Brought</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
From depths beyond imagination</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Nature's creation not a gift to us</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But a privilege</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Of soaked, smooth silk</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Running a marathon over our shoulders</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Browned bellies</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Slithering in and out of</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The caressing kiss</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Of that softly slapping sea</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYtHN-Tr8ewuaGOixmmKJBnDA2daIvFJZDct8L0k6fVfQsoq8iZMn3K1FqqPr2Ov7P2Nz-nFJyeIfAMK-uyn6UarfEiFw1pKIoQiXTcym_eqtJtrD4LwjAPMaAh7fPkdfwoOXPVspeYkI/s1600/IMG_1648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYtHN-Tr8ewuaGOixmmKJBnDA2daIvFJZDct8L0k6fVfQsoq8iZMn3K1FqqPr2Ov7P2Nz-nFJyeIfAMK-uyn6UarfEiFw1pKIoQiXTcym_eqtJtrD4LwjAPMaAh7fPkdfwoOXPVspeYkI/s1600/IMG_1648.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-1707048438183602402013-06-22T11:59:00.000-07:002013-06-22T12:00:59.013-07:00Living in a dream<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Travel often gives me a feeling of surrealism, as if my
great fortune to see all these incredible places around the world cannot truly
be real. The time differences and jet lag just add to the dreaminess of it all.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have finally landed in this stunning and complicated land
now called Israel. I arrived at Ben Gurion Airport at 3am, with my favorite
airline, <a href="http://www.turkishairlines.com/" target="_blank">Turkish Air</a>. Three reasons why Turkish Air made my night flight so
memorable this time:</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
</div>
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Checked in my 12 kg of overweight baggage at no
extra cost!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Served Turkish delight at take off and delicious
freshly prepared Turkish food</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Had a great selection of music and movies (I
watched Up In The Air and listened to Alicia Keys’ latest album)</span></li>
</ol>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Over the past few months I’ve been reading up on the history
of the area I’ll be digging in (<a href="https://maps.google.co.il/maps?client=safari&q=Kabri,+Israel&oe=UTF-8&ie=UTF-8&hl=en" target="_blank">click to see map</a>) and it makes me realize that
right now I, by being here, am in the throes of history. The brilliant crashing
waves of the present will soon leave only a memory written on foam on the sands
of time…yes, I’m getting a bit too poetic. But that brings me to one of the
greatest blessings of Israel (that probably upsets the Palestinians the most): The
Mediterranean coastline.</div>
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After I landed I took a cab out to Tel Aviv, because there
is no other way to get into the city from the airport on a Saturday morning. It
was expensive, costing me 156 shekel (42.90 USD), but so worth it, because I
would much rather sleep off my jet lag on the soft pristine sands of Tel Aviv’s
beaches and soak up the early morning sun, than doze off in uncomfortable
positions on airport chairs while breathing in that stale airport air. Thanks
to my excavation companions, who remained at the airport, I could leave my
luggage behind for my morning venture into Tel Aviv, and I felt so unbelievably
free as the Mediterranean wind blew through through the open window and we
whizzed by rows of palm trees, the blue sea glistening in the distance. </div>
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I quickly changed in the Sheraton and then dozed off. After
that I had Tex-Mex food with an old friend from high school who is now in the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF), and her boyfriend, who is also in the IDF. It’s
fascinating and kind of scary to hear what it is like to be in the IDF. It
makes me grateful for the fact that I can just focus on my education right now,
and not worry too much about having to stand armed and ready at the border of a hostile neighbor.</div>
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After meeting my friends I got a shuttle from Savidor Train Station with
my fellow archaeologists, numbering 50 people ranging from experienced to
educated to beginner. Throughout the bus ride up to northern Israel, getting settled into our simple and clean
rooms at Achziv Field School, and taking that blissful first swim in the
Mediterranean on the beach right in front of the Field School, I found myself
engaging in deep conversations on a number of topics with members of my diverse
archaeology community here at Kabri 2013. I am so excited to get to know these
people more, since my companions so far seem passionate about knowledge production and are
marked by maturity and friendliness. </div>
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We got boxes upon boxes of pizza for dinner, which was made exciting by
a visit from a praying mantis who courageously scaled our picnic table stacked
with empty pizza boxes. </div>
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After dinner we had orientation where I started getting REALLY excited about the dig. I’ll be digging in the area called “D-West” to find where this palace ends, if it does. We have no idea what we might find – we are entering uncharted territory in discovery of Kabri’s history! Funny note: during our orientation, a group of Israeli men
were pumping house music out of their small rusty car. Instead of declaring it
a nuisance, my orientation director used it as an example for how pumped up we should be for
tomorrow. I love that attitude!</div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Now I need to get off to
bed to sleep. I need to wake up at 4am for a tough first day of digging and I’ve barely slept at all for two
days straight! Laila tov!</span><!--EndFragment-->Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-73188080280122036892013-06-13T20:34:00.001-07:002013-06-13T21:20:32.402-07:00If there is a will there is a way<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">A friend recently asked me why I manage to travel, so I thought I'd put together a little recipe for other full-time students like myself who constantly dream of traveling but find a lack of finances to be in the way. There are endless possibilities in the world for you to achieve your dreams, and even though it will require hard work, persistence, passion, and a great deal of ambition, there are so many people out there to help you reach your goals. Trust me, I wouldn't be traveling to 7 different countries this summer without the support of others and their generosity. But now on to the recipe: How to cook up a traveling adventure on your summer break:</span><br />
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; margin-top: 10px; text-align: left;">
A ton of hard work. </div>
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I'm a very career-oriented person, as many members of my generation are. We are the generation who heard our high school teachers tell us that once we graduate there will be no jobs out there for us, and then saw revolutions erupt across the world with disillusionment over a failing world economy. I was determined not to put myself in that position. I've been working every summer since I got out of high school, jobs I got through countless emails to all my parents' friends and family and scouring numerous job sites. Most of the jobs I got was thanks to connections - so reach out to EVERYONE. Maybe they live and work in a different country, and you can get work experience and traveling in simultaenously that way. </div>
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4 years of federal work-study or campus part-time jobs</div>
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For my first two years at college I tutored elementary school students on Tuesday and Thursday nights and Saturdays. I started applying to jobs the moment I was admitted, using the campus career network and trying to personally ask around at university institutions. For my junior year, I wanted something else, so I looked at the campus network and found a part-time job at a university institution requiring me to work 10-15 hours a week. You don't need to waitress to get through college. If that isn't your thing (it wasn't mine) than there are plenty of children to be tutored or papers to be filed. Fortunately, my part-time job let me stay on after my Federal Work-study period ran out, agreeing to pay me out of their main account for May and June. They are hiring me next semester too, giving me job security I don't find off campus.</div>
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Outside career development</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; margin-top: 10px; text-align: left;">
While I take 17 credits each semester and have a part-time job, I also take on a part-time internship. Yes, I'm crazy, and yes I never have time for lunch, but it works out. Usually I don't go for the large and well-known internships, that often require a more more difficult application process. I look for smaller firms and organizations, where I am given a lot of responsibility and sometimes even a stipend or honorarium. Since I'm usually the only intern there, I am working directly with my supervisors and benefit from their expertise. They also usually allow me to cover flexible hours, and sometimes let me work from home.<br />
<br />
Babysitting<br />
<br />
I managed to find an ad for a babysitter that fit my busy work schedule, and that led to more options for babysitting as my name was circulated among the mothers. Soon I found myself most Friday and Saturday nights being paid for watching TV for a few hours, while the baby slept. It gave me time to do some course readings and prevented me from spending valuable travel money on nights out with friends.<br />
<br />
Savings<br />
<br />
I try and put as much money as possible in my savings account. I also try cook at home and try to refrain from buying expensive gadgets or more clothes or fancy meals in order to afford trips that have a much greater chance of significantly changing and shaping my life.<br />
<br />
Scholarships<br />
<br />
Then I also apply to as many scholarships as I possibly can. To study abroad in Jordan I applied to five different scholarships, and I was rewarded one for $4,500 that required me to do a follow-up project. I'm currently writing up the project report for that. To go to Israel this summer I applied to four different scholarships, and I was awarded two of them, $1000 each. To go to Jordan this summer, I got accepted to a program to help me write a thesis that gives me a $500 research grant. There are lots of places to look for scholarships or funding, and they often require you to just post a couple of blog posts, write up a report when you return, send a personal letter to donors, or pledge to do something like a project or a thesis.<br />
<br />
Links:<br />
<a href="http://www.iie.org/en/Programs/Gilman-Scholarship-Program">http://www.iie.org/en/Programs/Gilman-Scholarship-Program</a><br />
<a href="http://www.borenawards.org/">http://www.borenawards.org</a><br />
<a href="http://www.clscholarship.org/">http://www.clscholarship.org</a><br />
<a href="http://www.cies.org/" target="_blank">http://www.cies.org </a><br />
<br />
Flight deal sites</div>
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Another thing I do is subscribe to flight deal sites, and look for cheap deals, then cheap accommodation (couch surfing, airbnb), then cheap transportation. My parents taught me that. We would grab last-minute flight tickets to unusual destinations like Cambodia and The Dominican Republic, and traveled around on local transportation or bikes rather than air conditioned buses. It requires some flexibility, but if you check these sites at the right time, you might get lucky.<br />
<br />
Links:<br />
<a href="http://www.theflightdeal.com/">http://www.theflightdeal.com</a><br />
<a href="http://tipsoftravelling.com/">http://tipsoftravelling.com</a><br />
<a href="https://www.couchsurfing.org/">https://www.couchsurfing.org</a><br />
<a href="https://www.airbnb.com/">https://www.airbnb.com</a><br />
<br />
Visit family and friends</div>
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This summer, I am going to places, like Sweden and Germany and Jordan, where I have relatives (or my boyfriend) and friends and I know they will feed me and accommodate me when I'm there.</div>
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Prolonged layovers<br />
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I got to see Istanbul in September AND December by having two 24-hr layovers, and I actually saw a lot! Iceland this summer will also just be a prolonged layover, but I'll have time to see the most famous natural sites and attend the Reykjavik Jazz Festival. Turkish Air and Iceland Air, as well as other national airlines, make deals like that to promote tourism in their country.</div>
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Blogs<br />
<br />
Finally, I follow a bunch of travel blogs that constantly inspire me. Here are a couple of good ones:<br />
<a class="_553k" href="http://www.danielbaylis.ca/travel/price-cost-one-year/" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.danielbaylis.ca/travel/price-cost-one-year/</a><br />
<a class="_553k" href="http://almostfearless.com/about/" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://almostfearless.com/about/</a> (also check out her "Blogs I love")<br />
And my favorite travel website has lots of tips:<a class="_553k" href="http://matadornetwork.com/notebook/how-to-move-to-paris-with-no-money/" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://matadornetwork.com/notebook/how-to-move-to-paris-with-no-money/</a><br />
<br />
Other options could also be volunteering abroad. I went to Ecuador for 5 weeks and had a life-changing experience, thanks to a relatively cheap local volunteer organization. I was completely immersed in the local culture since there weren't any other volunteers from any of my countries (Sweden, USA, Malta) and learned so much about what I am capable of as an individual.<br />
<br />
There is also <a href="http://www.wwoofinternational.org/" target="_blank">World Wide Opportunities On Organic Farms (WWOOF)</a>, which I've always wanted to try but haven't had the chance to do. You basically offer to work on a farm, anywhere in the world, for a certain amount of time, in exchange for food and accommodation.</div>
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I hope this helps anyone who struggles with finding enough finances to fund their dreams! Anything is possible, you just have to approach it from different angles.</div>
Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-45896552173406826462013-06-08T23:04:00.000-07:002013-06-08T23:04:55.009-07:00TransnationalismHere is a prose piece I wrote for a writing challenge about a month ago:<br />
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You could say I’m a <b>third culture kid</b>, but who knows at what
points my different cultures <b>articulate</b>. Without the borders of a mono-cultural
upbringing <b>narrowing</b> my mind, I find myself standing at the <b>frontiers</b> of global
processes in every opinion that marches out of my brain. I am the member of a
strange and beautiful community, a <b>diverse diaspora</b> of people who call the
whole world their home, and easily feel <b>alone</b>. Yet we are a species who are
comfortable with our loneliness; we even <b>yearn</b> for it. We are the people who
<b>reject</b> the familiar and chase the most <b>foreign</b> because our inborn culture shock
requires <b>continuous clashes</b> of cultures to bring out the best in us. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlU1p7n8xmEAmPzLFd_vUnwT0M-0DknCipJSCd77WUUqlgJ4TbRGU9phz036422Jqqfoh9xQ4evhvkGG4iSmPN5qzESbu-Z17D37thIzgS2PIJu4bm_sqbLSxx1vCLgrb2uclIgLvOpDo/s1600/IMG_0682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlU1p7n8xmEAmPzLFd_vUnwT0M-0DknCipJSCd77WUUqlgJ4TbRGU9phz036422Jqqfoh9xQ4evhvkGG4iSmPN5qzESbu-Z17D37thIzgS2PIJu4bm_sqbLSxx1vCLgrb2uclIgLvOpDo/s1600/IMG_0682.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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Not only do we find the familiar in <b>unknown</b> places, but in
unknown individuals too. We find comfort and understanding in the person who
has never <b>touched</b> the earth we’ve grown up on, or tasted our <b>native tongue</b> on
their lips, but who suffered from the same <b>internal dichotomy</b> that emblazoned
this <b>modern malaise</b> into our own multicultural hearts. Our differences are in
essence our shared features: we were born with a world without windows or
doors, <b>raw products</b> of globalization ready to take over the world, open to
whatever idea or <b>identity</b> that fate will throw our way. </div>
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For us, <b>home</b> is not a base to which we return, but an
emotion that we continually <b>evoke and revoke</b> as we travel through moments that
challenge the <b>limits</b> that hold most people in a room where they wait for an
identity to be handed to them in <b>a small book</b>. We scour outer landscapes to
find the commonalities between the constantly <b>diverging and merging</b> traditions
of our world – a world in which the foreign is <b>familiar</b> and the foreigner is
our closest friend.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-81476439866988973282013-06-03T16:37:00.002-07:002013-06-03T16:38:43.355-07:00عمان - A love poemI wrote this poem my first morning in Amman. It might have been too early to know the city, but even after four months of living there the message of the poem feels right. I can't believe I haven't posted it yet, but it takes courage for a poet to release their work. Poetry is such a personal expression, cutting right at our deepest emotions, without any flouncy sentence construction in the way. The poetic tradition in the Middle East is one of the strongest factors that first attracted me to learn Arabic. Anyway, I'll cut to the chase, and deliver to you my poem.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhulYPkdGLg-gL8mPRov7yhyphenhyphenXEAgl8lV07LFeIF4onohD-8WO1yOBaWq_N2XNL4-44zcyqDKtWheJKw6fNnAR2WZjVGpy7y7WB05LNTsKAwjDW-TYr4G9d-y6Td86S9M2JtP3XhHjLpOok/s1600/DSCF3358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhulYPkdGLg-gL8mPRov7yhyphenhyphenXEAgl8lV07LFeIF4onohD-8WO1yOBaWq_N2XNL4-44zcyqDKtWheJKw6fNnAR2WZjVGpy7y7WB05LNTsKAwjDW-TYr4G9d-y6Td86S9M2JtP3XhHjLpOok/s1600/DSCF3358.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<u>Amman</u></div>
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The city of circles</div>
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Whirls and swirls</div>
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In motion and emotion</div>
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Encroaching upon the past</div>
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We fled from and shooting</div>
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Into the haze of tomorrows</div>
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Chasing what was lost</div>
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In the cost</div>
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Of living</div>
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In the eye of the storm</div>
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Forever together</div>
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In the world alone</div>
Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-4303598231012002602013-05-27T15:43:00.001-07:002013-06-23T10:19:12.371-07:00Det finns inga dåliga väder, bara dåliga kläder - Take 2If you have been following my blog, you may know of <a href="http://mariellesmiddleeast.blogspot.com/2012/08/det-finns-inga-daliga-vader-bara-daliga.html">my packing panic about 9 months ago</a> when I was preparing to move to Jordan. This time around I need to prepare even more carefully, because I need to have the right equipment to maneuver through romantic dates in Germany, archaeological excavation sites in Israel, professional meetings in Jordan, music festivals in Sweden and Iceland, and a potential weekend in France (yes, I may be adding another country, which would top it off at 7 countries I will be in this summer). I am starting with the most important and most straightforward part of my summer packing list: my archaeology equipment. I have searched numerous boards and asked for advice from my dig director, <a href="http://departments.columbian.gwu.edu/cnelc/people/109">Dr. Eric Cline</a>, and past excavation participants, and have gradually started collecting the items that I need. So here they are:<br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/MARSHALLTOWN-45-5SD-Philadelphia-Pointing/dp/B001RJ6NHC/ref=sr_1_96?s=hi&ie=UTF8&qid=1369692020&sr=1-96">Marshalltown trowel</a> - The classic archaeology tool, that was made iconic by Kent Flannery's essay, <a href="http://plaza.ufl.edu/akathy/(1982)%20Flannery%20-%20Golden%20Marshalltown.pdf">"The Golden Marshalltown"</a>, which was one of the most memorable readings from my Introduction to Archaeology class.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8UusXo4tfYfWuzXcaMtAb9OfBvHLGwi9TLv-wJs56UAFAI8VOBKKVuoQpQgM1FihnZ7mQXAPEoNO0FZq0ZaPioWVlWEADPr0Xog2GvXyBd4LesJX0ELFxc5IOjpAVctYX-6NZ7lLU1uw/s1600/IMG_0649.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8UusXo4tfYfWuzXcaMtAb9OfBvHLGwi9TLv-wJs56UAFAI8VOBKKVuoQpQgM1FihnZ7mQXAPEoNO0FZq0ZaPioWVlWEADPr0Xog2GvXyBd4LesJX0ELFxc5IOjpAVctYX-6NZ7lLU1uw/s1600/IMG_0649.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.walmart.com/ip/Brahma-Men-s-Seth-Steel-Toe-Shoe/22724305#Product+Reviews">Steel-toed shoes</a> - As an archaeologist, you want shoes that are lightweight but with a hard toe, because apparently there is a risk with normal sneakers that you have your foot cut open by falling objects. Better not take that risk! Being in northern Israel in 2013 is dangerous enough.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRpNnpF5e_PlC6AymLt5QXTVkgIbNKl4_ZPUYlycVBkEql6W_bErmsNgX1XBvpVxo19j7iVEl1y77Rgp70d8rnJwgzEyUpphW_kxiVvhbp4vgowMH32aVDjK-m0-sQGoQyqXrM0hDJDLc/s1600/IMG_1053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRpNnpF5e_PlC6AymLt5QXTVkgIbNKl4_ZPUYlycVBkEql6W_bErmsNgX1XBvpVxo19j7iVEl1y77Rgp70d8rnJwgzEyUpphW_kxiVvhbp4vgowMH32aVDjK-m0-sQGoQyqXrM0hDJDLc/s1600/IMG_1053.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.coolibar.com/category/Sun-Hats/Womens/pc/2222/2271.uts">Wide-brimmed hat</a> - No one wants a melanoma on their face, let alone a sunburn. That's where putting on your archaeology hat comes in handy! I got mine at Eastern Market, a large open-air market in Washington, DC for $15. It provides nice sun cover but also stays cool since it has a knit brim. Added bonus: it will still look good after being stuffed into a bursting suitcase. This one is from C.C. Exclusives but it's easy to find others. Make sure to pair it with your bug-eye sunglasses. ;)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgmrv3TsKewdXQ47JhOwHeRNWxpShQMc3MRwwmPl3LGxhXHoIhWaRDnQjYmmOqNFce8MKYtFQJ4iAyPwLffvKDPPHzQB-d08l805VxXlKmN5l6SAT3QgVBjQzTn9FurLrK2vXFuyAfqa8/s1600/IMG_0718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgmrv3TsKewdXQ47JhOwHeRNWxpShQMc3MRwwmPl3LGxhXHoIhWaRDnQjYmmOqNFce8MKYtFQJ4iAyPwLffvKDPPHzQB-d08l805VxXlKmN5l6SAT3QgVBjQzTn9FurLrK2vXFuyAfqa8/s1600/IMG_0718.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.walmart.com/ip/Classic-Bandana-Turquise/23597900">Bandanas</a> - If the hat is too hot or bothersome, bandanas are there to save the day! I got these for $1 each at Walmart and you can wear them<a href="http://www.wikihow.com/Wear-Bandanas"> EIGHT DIFFERENT WAYS</a> and even more if you are more creative. This way you can also add some color and flair to your outfit and be a stylish archaeologist.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikSJlQNc7gHwo2nsmHhcWu9sRB_l1a8f7ghZRq1UhL3r6p7ID0BMBAIzNaqLHJzL1WIIiLkrh6UFWEyvz8zeo4RRla0SQY5d6xHaYxTF2RzQ6ehrkNRJcdKZ8LwfUJOULI2OCYvnjV-8c/s1600/IMG_1054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikSJlQNc7gHwo2nsmHhcWu9sRB_l1a8f7ghZRq1UhL3r6p7ID0BMBAIzNaqLHJzL1WIIiLkrh6UFWEyvz8zeo4RRla0SQY5d6xHaYxTF2RzQ6ehrkNRJcdKZ8LwfUJOULI2OCYvnjV-8c/s1600/IMG_1054.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.walmart.com/ip/Gatorade-Thirst-Quencher-Frost-Glacier-Freeze-Instant-Mix-51-oz/10450690?findingMethod=rr">Gatorade Powder</a> - You are going to get REALLY thirsty digging in those trenches all day in the obscene heat of Israeli summer so might as well make your water superwater to keep your energy up - with the wonderfully magical Gatorade Powder. A 51 Oz container costs $8.38 at Walmart and will be enough for three weeks if you only put 1-2 scoops of it in your water bottle every morning. Bring on those electrolytes!<br />
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<a href="http://www.coxhardware.com/App_Themes/skin_1/images/gatorade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.coxhardware.com/App_Themes/skin_1/images/gatorade.jpg" height="262" width="320" /></a></div>
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Finally, in regards to actual clothing, it is recommended that you wear light-colored, light-weight materials that you don't care too much about, since soil can leave some serious stains. Since you might be on your knees digging, you might like to have pants that cover those knees. Pants with lots of pockets are really useful, since you may need to use a variety of tools over the course of the day to unearth and record your findings. Think again before you throw out those old T-shirts you never wear anymore - you might as well wear them digging and throw them out at the end of the summer.<br />
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SO. EXCITED. YOU. HAVE. NO. IDEA! In the meantime I've stayed busy with finishing up my internship at <a href="http://caise.insci.org/">the Center for Advancement of Informal Science Education</a> (check out their <a href="http://beta.informalscience.org/">brand new beautiful website</a> that I helped put together), earning money for my trip by babysitting and clocking in hours at <a href="http://www.gwu.edu/~cistp/">the Center for International Science and Technology Policy</a>, and arranging important meetings with influential people who are actually interested in my thesis topic. Wish me luck in garnering the support of these people I so admire in the field of environmental security that I now intend to venture into!Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-36011403623784626702013-05-03T11:25:00.001-07:002013-05-03T11:31:04.807-07:00Happiness has found me<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you."<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">― </span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/859027._" style="background-color: white; color: #666600; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;">حافظ</a><br />
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Since I have gone to study abroad, I've had the happiest time of my life. I feel like I have been inspired to be a better person and that has inspired the world to be better to me, if that makes any sense (I've been warming up to the idea of karma lately). Before I went to Jordan I felt uncertain of myself. I lacked confidence and the energy that contentment gives you, and I felt a bit lost about where I was going in life. Now I have managed to excel academically in six classes, fulfill my duties at a part-time job and an internship, develop my star babysitting skills, volunteer at homeless shelters and soup kitchens on the weekends, maintain an incredibly strong and loving long-distance relationship <span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">♥</span>, and spend quality time with family and friends. I don't think that would have been possible without the confidence that my time in Jordan inspired in me, and that confidence shaped the actions that generated the contentment that provided this immense energy that made all of this possible! Thanks to all my accomplishments, I am able to fuel that happiness with more travel, and I am so excited and grateful to spend this summer in five different countries, two of which are Israel and Jordan.<br />
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<a href="http://media-cache-ec3.pinimg.com/originals/04/8a/c7/048ac7963b1a65dda6df7edddd4dc1fd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://media-cache-ec3.pinimg.com/originals/04/8a/c7/048ac7963b1a65dda6df7edddd4dc1fd.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
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I was recently awarded the <a href="http://research.columbian.gwu.edu/archaeology/sites/default/files/u42/CAI%20scholarship%20application%20form%20for%202012.pdf">Rogers Excavation and Survey Scholarship</a> from the Capital Archaeological Institute at the George Washington University and a <a href="http://www.asor.org/fellowships/">Fellowship from the American Schools for Oriental Research</a>, making it possible for me to make this dream come true and return to the region. This time I will be discovering the region not through the lens of the tourist, as I did as a child, or as an American college student, as I did this past fall, but as an archaeologist. I will be volunteering on the excavation at <a href="http://digkabri2013.wordpress.com/">Tel Kabri </a>in Western Galilee, to unearth a 3,500 years-old Canaanite Palace. I expect that this experience will reveal new and exciting sides to the political and cultural dynamics in the Middle East. Over the next month I will be blogging about my upcoming preparations for the excavation so that this blog can be a resource for future aspiring archaeologists as well.<br />
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<a href="http://digkabri2013.files.wordpress.com/2010/09/palace.jpg?w=300&h=200" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://digkabri2013.files.wordpress.com/2010/09/palace.jpg?w=300&h=200" width="400" /></a></div>
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When I left Jordan I felt like I had gotten what I wanted out of my study abroad experience: I had befriended locals, familiarized myself with the local dialect, and been immersed in Jordanian culture. I had experienced the country from an internal and subjective rather than external and objective perspective. However, during my time there I had also noticed the problems that exist in the country, and by the time I left, my head was already brimming with possible solutions. That is why I am so grateful to have a chance to go back, and look into some of those solutions - to give back to the society that changed my life.<br />
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Therefore, following the excavation I will be traveling to Jordan for a few days, and hopefully the West Bank, to do some research for my potential senior thesis, which will focus on the obstacles to environmental advocacy in the Middle East. I am so excited to go back and I doubt it will be the last time I return! I hope you continue to follow me on this journey and learn along with me about archaeology, environmental advocacy, and traveling in the irresistibly alluring (at least in my opinion) Middle East. </div>
Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-42454887047049243952013-03-14T22:23:00.003-07:002013-03-15T21:57:06.067-07:00The AftermathI finally got myself an iphone which means I can much more easily make collage photos. So I will now post a series of collages I just made covering the time since I last updated you on my activities.<br />
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My first weekend in Jordan I visited Ajloun and Jerash in the North, so my last weekend I did the same. I was treated to a huge feast and got to see a local farm in Ajloun. It felt more like March than December!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMOzUdhTUOthHWPz741NCvlmUu0ThsBx3IPvFN4oE7Hsxef1OB8r1UdrMgYCRBrLaNFU8Vd9gIQ7iD5zFkcmEuhECvWV4N_vX07SnjhExllYBElJuLojl4uAYnNbf2aln9_GeZlCUNMZA/s1600/IMG_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMOzUdhTUOthHWPz741NCvlmUu0ThsBx3IPvFN4oE7Hsxef1OB8r1UdrMgYCRBrLaNFU8Vd9gIQ7iD5zFkcmEuhECvWV4N_vX07SnjhExllYBElJuLojl4uAYnNbf2aln9_GeZlCUNMZA/s1600/IMG_0003.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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A couple of nights before I left my friends whisked me off to a good bye party at a farmhouse by the Dead Sea, complete with 3D TV, an indoor pool, and a garden with fruit trees and chickens. We made our own shish kebab, went for late-night swims, and in the morning I got to feed the chickens!<br />
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Guess the fruit featured in the lower right picture!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLuetLuV6VSMp1xa95onOVPXdUI4d7SxGMRN2iBmc_w0mg1IMD4iYENxTyY5UhRZYpZyhemM83-R6vCvZQqUUQSHn76tAU6hQAucTy63KPcVgkMvkEeXex8OYreHKgXbLV2NiMR07rIFw/s1600/IMG_0004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLuetLuV6VSMp1xa95onOVPXdUI4d7SxGMRN2iBmc_w0mg1IMD4iYENxTyY5UhRZYpZyhemM83-R6vCvZQqUUQSHn76tAU6hQAucTy63KPcVgkMvkEeXex8OYreHKgXbLV2NiMR07rIFw/s1600/IMG_0004.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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After a dramatic last day of fitting in packing, saying good bye to friends and family, and nearly missing my flight, I arrived in snowy Istanbul to reunite with one of my best friends. We had a relaxed day of drinking coffee at <a href="http://www.galatalifeistanbul.com/">Galata Life Cafe</a> in Taksim, then strolling over to the <a href="http://www.hagiasophia.com/">Hagia Sophia</a>, which was already closed, and then getting Adana kebab at <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g293974-d939671-Reviews-Omar_Cafe_Restaurant-Istanbul.html">Omar Cafe and Restaurant</a>, a penthouse restaurant in Sultanahmet. That evening I got a tour of <a href="http://www.boun.edu.tr/en-US/Content/Default.aspx">Bogazici University</a> campus, where my friend is an exchange student for the year, and then went on to find my couchsurfer for the night. After much confusion I found the friendly young man who had offered his home to me and we caught a ferry across the Bosphorus to get to his Asian apartment. We went to an Irish pub (I feel like EVERYONE, no matter what city, has a go-to Irish pub) but I was so exhausted from all the traveling and farewell stress that I retired early (1am). However, it was time wake up around 4 hours later to walk through eerily deserted Istanbul streets between those solemn hours after people have gone home from the bars but before the breadwinners need to go to work, in order to catch my flight to Stockholm. The couchsurfer kindly guided me through the foreign Asian streets, and because we were so tired I nearly left my carry-on suitcase with him! On the way I made some interesting friends, such as the two Belgian guys who had just won an illegal poker game. Nothing like early morning adventures in a city I'm growing to love.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxt5s17EQRIrut_lGDvSEhjDZPbAV-hHfBHh0iD6SAwDS3UY83oSvGpyJ30xPxYK-_dOwVGE8MwxgA9biDCY-NSp7GDx3drPikGSwEPuEPFJT2q2K2QqNeKUnaKv1KLFh_YfRp_O4b5I/s1600/IMG_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxt5s17EQRIrut_lGDvSEhjDZPbAV-hHfBHh0iD6SAwDS3UY83oSvGpyJ30xPxYK-_dOwVGE8MwxgA9biDCY-NSp7GDx3drPikGSwEPuEPFJT2q2K2QqNeKUnaKv1KLFh_YfRp_O4b5I/s1600/IMG_0002.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
On the way to Stockholm I happened to be seated in Gaza refugee central. When my fellow passengers found out a Swedish girl spoke Arabic they whipped out identification papers for their whole families and told me their stories with tears in their eyes. Unfortunately, I couldn't do anything for them but listen. However, it gave me insight into the respect I gain for being a Western woman who speaks Arabic dialect.<br />
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In Stockholm the snow was falling even heavier than in Istanbul, to my great delight. My cousins immediately brought me into Old Town Stockholm, where we scoured the <a href="http://www.stockholmgamlastan.se/lang_en/se_gora/julmarknad.php">Old Town christmas market</a> that I love so much. That night I stayed with my cousins at their house in the archipelago, and the next day we went cross-country skiing, made snow angels, and fit in an entire Swedish christmas evening before I had to head back into Stockholm city for the next place I would put my head to rest, at a family friend's apartment. I found myself walking deserted city streets again, as I arrived near midnight on the night before christmas eve. It was remarkable to see one of Sweden's main shopping streets deserted.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYMgVecaWEKZzCknqjj5wvVSIzYpz2OsgWlP2kibzH5x5QNxl7j9g0tjSvKB5XTGxRzwvy7DAG0cS48ssE1nKxxVBotQYC7MTT43gXko4btg3KbCiPHb9x812oIVRfAgC-WB31rGBH1sM/s1600/IMG_0009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYMgVecaWEKZzCknqjj5wvVSIzYpz2OsgWlP2kibzH5x5QNxl7j9g0tjSvKB5XTGxRzwvy7DAG0cS48ssE1nKxxVBotQYC7MTT43gXko4btg3KbCiPHb9x812oIVRfAgC-WB31rGBH1sM/s1600/IMG_0009.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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In the US I was greeted by my beautiful family, and despite feeling a bit sad to see all my exciting adventures end, I was truly exhausted and so happy to be home. I immediately showed off the traditional Jordanian dress I had bought, one of my final souvenirs. My parents had created a traditional Swedish christmas dinner, just like the one I had with my cousins two nights before. Fortunately, I LOOOVE Swedish christmas food so I didn't mind eating the same thing again. In the days that followed we made gingerbread houses, visited the Newseum, and my sister and I attended a DJ show with Steve Angello. The fun never stops!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3K527oXqb1NU6ZFzHy447qL28fyj97V-adWO3hjSK4wm2ayhvv8_vZhDwFmGLyjT3C0IH-cbDHGxSNPiNKpJz97-Q3Su7BfoI7jBWHyd1StjQuzXO_z2NonhJ-9A5iiIpbdpATY42LsQ/s1600/IMG_0006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3K527oXqb1NU6ZFzHy447qL28fyj97V-adWO3hjSK4wm2ayhvv8_vZhDwFmGLyjT3C0IH-cbDHGxSNPiNKpJz97-Q3Su7BfoI7jBWHyd1StjQuzXO_z2NonhJ-9A5iiIpbdpATY42LsQ/s1600/IMG_0006.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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Since then I've been back in university but I'm having a great semester. I've paired a class I'm taking at the George Washington University on the <a href="http://www.gwu.edu/~bulletin/ugrad/wstu.html#2121">Anthropology of Gender</a> with a class at the University of Jordan studying Arab Feminisms, and the great crosscultural interaction can be witnessed in <a href="http://www.femtales.com/">blog form</a>. Please check it out and read the comments too! One of my classes is at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History with a forensic anthropologist who worked for the FBI for 30 years. It's like CSI meets Night At The Museum. Another one of my classes is taught by celebrity chef Jose Andres, as well as a host of big names in the food world. As a foodie, I love having homework such as going out of my comfort zone in a food experience, making a cooking video on Middle Eastern cuisine, or baking the perfect molten chocolate cake. In short, I love my university!<br />
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I've also been doing some traveling. Over MLK Weekend (in January) I went for a ski trip in West Virginia with a group of couchsurfers, my sister, and my dad. We all had a great time! Right now I'm on spring break. I just finished off a few days being spoiled by my grandma and aunt in Providence, RI (and cuddling with their adorable cats) and now I'm in my beloved New York City. I should get to bed though, so I'm charged for an exciting day of Columbia University, Central Park, MoMA, the Rubin Museum, etc. I NEED TO MOVE TO NEW YORK SOMEDAY!Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-15743472784042746612013-02-25T00:05:00.002-08:002013-02-25T00:05:49.352-08:00The World Never Stops TurningI apologize greatly for the long delay! I made so many promises of posts I was going to make without predicting the amount of work that would engulf me as I got back into American university life. I hope to get up a photo essay and some reviews of the places I visited since I last wrote. I haven't even written about my last week in Jordan! So much has happened since I have returned but I do have some fantastic news - I have experienced no reverse culture shock! Actually, life is better than it has ever been before in Washington DC. I feel like Jordan was the best thing that ever happened to me. Since I got back I feel like my future and present has fallen into place and my life has a beautiful balance of friends and family, academics and professional work. I can't wait to get more time to chronicle the past couple of months since I have returned but that will have to wait for another time. In the meantime, please check out two videos for me.<br />
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The first one is a video made by my fellow <a href="http://www.iie.org/en/Programs/Gilman-Scholarship-Program/About-the-Program">Benjamin J. Gilman Scholar</a> on my study abroad program in Jordan, about the many misconceptions that were corrected during our time abroad:<br />
<iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/57272140" width="500" height="281" frameborder="0" webkitAllowFullScreen mozallowfullscreen allowFullScreen></iframe> <p><a href="http://vimeo.com/57272140">Shatter</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user6181894">Grace Pilet</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><br />
The second one is a cooking video my friends and I made for our course <a href="http://tlc.provost.gwu.edu/honr-570111—-world-plate-how-food-shapes-civilization">"The World on a Plate: How Food Shapes Civilization"</a>, that instructs you on how to make two of my favorite Jordanian dishes:<br />
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qlfZ-F15DnE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
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Enjoy! I will write more next time!Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-41711578186740907892012-12-30T10:45:00.002-08:002013-01-01T16:08:17.195-08:00Ich Liebe Deutschland, David Guetta, und Dich!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Where were you at 12:00 GMT on <a href="http://rt.com/news/features/december-12-marriage-doomsday-844/">12/12/12</a>?<br />
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I was waiting for my loved one in Frankfurt Airport because, once again, delays were working against us. However, in the hall leading from Frankfurt Airport to the train station, I found him holding a large red rose and could finally give him that long-awaited hug. After a familiar trip on the ICE we got to Kalrsruhe, where we dropped my baggage at his apartment and proceeded to Café Extrablatt for some much needed food. <a href="http://www.cafe-extrablatt.com/cms/front_content.php">Café Extrablatt</a> is a chain of high-quality restaurants in select cities around Germany that serve a continental menu of American diner food and pizza. <br />
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After that we made a thorough exploration of the <a href="http://www.germany-christmas-market.org.uk/karlsruhe_christmas_market.php">Karlsruhe Christmas market</a>, where we could find everything from kissing salt and pepper shakers to revolutionary cookery to iPods made out of chocolate. We stopped of course for hot cups of gluhwein to chase the cold from our frozen fingers, and for potato pancakes fried in mountains of butter and topped with apple sauce. Deliciously unhealthy! <br />
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Eventually we got too cold and returned home, with a quick stop in an electronics store where we got photobombed while fist-bumping batman. I love Germans! <br />
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After freshening up and getting warm, we ventured back out into the cold to have Indian food at the restaurant down the street called <a href="http://www.punjab-restaurant.de">Punjab</a>. Our plan was to eat there and then move on to see <a href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/skyfall/">Skyfall</a> at the cinema. However, the Indian restaurant held us hostage, causing us to have to give up on Skyfall. No, really, we were hostage victims. They refused to bring us our food until absolutely necessary, first handing us just a bowl of plain rice, and even forgetting the biryani we ordered. In between asking to get our food wrapped up and getting the bill, the waiter tried to convince us that he had given up a bollywood career to study to be a doctor in Spain, but the economy had forced him to move to Germany. We were unconvinced, since he spoke perfect German and showed horrible service skills. He decided for us that we will be getting married and start a Pakistani restaurant in Stockholm, and of course when we did we could come back to Karlsruhe and beg for him to work with us. People can dream I guess. <br />
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We finally emerged from the restaurant half past midnight, 3 hours after we entered and an hour after the movie had started, so the rest of the evening was spent talking and listening to music. But what more do you need when you’re in such good company?<br />
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The next day we slept in, had fish sandwiches for a brunch-on-the-go at <a href="http://www.nordsee.com/en/">Nordsee</a>, and decided to be a classic 21st century couple and get coffees at <a href="http://www.starbucks.com">Starbucks</a>. I had the Lebkuchen (gingerbread) latte. <br />
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After that we decided to explore <a href="http://www.karlsruhe.de/b3/freizeit/zoo.de">the Karlsruhe zoo</a>, which was surprisingly impressive in its array of animals. We started off by encountering the first hippo that either of us had ever seen. It was enormous! We also saw elephants, camels, kangaroos, cheetas, and peacocks pacing around on the frosty German ground. It was such a strange setting in which to see these exotic animals! We also witnessed a polar bear bobbing for apples, a monkey meditating, and sea lions doing what looked like synchronized swimming. We decided that one day we have to have a pet meerkat, because they are absolutely adorable. We heard what a cheetah sounds like when it’s hungry – a mix between a crying baby and a distraught monkey, with a slight roar to it. We finished up by passing by the owls. It is a fantastic zoo, and I highly recommend going to the zoo on a date!<br />
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We got thoroughly frozen at the zoo but decided we could tough it out for a bit longer in order for mu boyfriend to give me a tour of his university, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karlsruhe_Institute_of_Technology">the Karlsruhe Institute for Technology (KIT)</a>. KIT is one of the top three elite universities in Germany, and one of the best in the world for Business Engineering, my boyfriend’s major. It’s basically a degree that prepares you to be a CEO, and there are few others like it in the world. All instruction is in German so international students have the added challenge of needing to learn a new language, but the degree is supposedly worth it in the end and the faculty makes sure the students have a memorable university experience. The day after I left a movie made about the orientation was being shown at a local cinema!<br />
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That evening we relaxed at home for a bit and I baked Swedish cardamom cake. It is one of my favorite cake recipes, and I will post it here so you can make it too:<br />
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<b>KARDEMUMMA KAKA</b><br />
Ingredients: <br />
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• 1 (115ml) stick butter, softened<br />
• 2cups (250 gr) flour<br />
• 1 1/2 t. baking powder<br />
• 1 cup (245 gr) milk<br />
• 1 cup (200 gr) sugar<br />
• 1/2 t. vanilla extract (1 t. vanilla sugar)<br />
• 2 t. cardamom seeds, taken from pods, coarsely ground<br />
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1. preheat oven to 350 degrees<br />
2. cream together butter and sugar. stir in milk and then the remaining ingredients.<br />
3. mix well and pour into a greased cake pan<br />
4. if desired, sprinkle top of cake with a mixture of pearl sugar and coarsely ground cardamom. bake for 25 minutes or until golden brown on top.<br />
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Later on we met up with some of my boyfriend’s friends from KIT to explore the other Christmas market in Karlsruhe. Our plan was to go ice-skating but just as we arrived the ice-skating rink closed so we chose to drink Gluhwein instead and tried not to fall too many times on the way home. Since the night cold had turned the sidewalks into sheets of ice, we did ice-skate after all!<br />
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The next day we slept in and then made <a href="http://allrecipes.com/recipe/cheese-fondue/">cheese fondue</a> for breakfast. It was my first time having cheese fondue and I loved it! It was then time to prepare for our trip to Mannheim, where we would visit our third Christmas market, drink more gluhwein and attend a David Guetta concert. We arrived in Mannheim around 2pm, where we started off with a few drinks in <a href="http://www.germany-christmas-market.org.uk/mannheim_christmas_market.php">the Christmas market by the "Wasserturm", Mannheim's most famous landmark</a>. The Karlsruhe Christmas markets were cozier, but over all I just love any Christmas market and Germany is full of them! After that we trekked out to the location of the David Guetta concert, which was at a large venue a little bit outside of the city. We didn’t have to wait in line for too long and once we got in we quickly disposed of our coats in the expansive coat room. The opening DJ, <a href="http://www.nickyromero.nl">Nicky Romero</a>, spun a few tracks to warm us up but the real sound and light show started when world-class French DJ <a href="http://www.davidguetta.com">David Guetta</a> came on stage. Most of the tracks were from his most recent chart-topping album <a href="http://www.songslover.pk/albums/david-guetta-nothing-but-the-beat-2-0.html">Nothing But the Beat 2.0</a>, but he even spun a few new tracks he has mixed. I didn’t stop dancing and neither did my boyfriend or friends!<br />
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We finished off the evening by unsuccessfully trying to get into a number of bars and clubs (it was already 2am by then) and then settling for shisha at a Turkish café where there was a live band complete with an oud player and live singer. I felt like I could have been in Amman! We then got the last train to Karlsruhe, a night train going to Basel. I couldn’t help but think back to all my favorite old movies that have scenes in night trains. <br />
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The next day it was unfortunately time to leave. It was sad to say good bye, since I may not come back to Germany until summertime, but the trip was worth every penny. When I returned to Amman I only had five days left in beautiful Jordan! My next post will cover my last few days in Amman, as well as my short stays in Istanbul and Stockholm on the way home to the States. Auf wiedersehen!<br />
</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-21643168840939214612012-12-29T11:50:00.000-08:002012-12-29T11:50:14.967-08:00Souqs and Castles<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Sorry for the long delay. Here is a post I drafted weeks ago that I finally had time to publish:<br />
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I am going to quickly post about my previous weekend exploring the famous <a href="http://gomagjordan.com/souk-al-juma/">Souq Aljum3a</a> (or Friday Market), the modern holiday art market <a href="http://artmediumjo.blogspot.com/p/souq-fann.html">Souq Fann</a>, and <a href="http://www.farahhotel.info/SitePages.aspx?Target=3">five fascinating castles in the desert of Eastern Jordan</a>, while I continue drafting my post about my unforgettable four days in Deutschland. While I’m working on getting these weekend posts up, I am spending my last week in Jordan finishing up academic and professional commitments, saying good bye to all my amazing Jordanian friends, and preparing for my next weekend adventure which will cover the <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/science/2012/dec/21/end-world-live-blog">supposed end of the world</a> in Istanbul, (if we all survive) a 48-hr stop in snowy Sweden, and finally (after a short layover in London) holiday celebrations with my family back in southern Maryland. After that I may continue this blog to track my reverse culture shock, though who knows how long that may last. However, inshallah, I will return to the region next summer and my Middle East meanderings can continue on this web space. ☺ <br />
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Ok now it’s time to get down to business. <a href="http://www.abdali.jo">Abdali</a> is an old part of Amman that is best known for being the main bus terminal for the city and is now being rejuvenated as the city's new downtown. However, every Thursday night it is turned into haggling heaven as the whole strip of pavement that is usually a parking lot for the bus terminal is turned into an enormous market, where people bargain over hideous Christmas sweaters for 1JD or tatty leather boots for 5 JD as the adan, call to prayer, echoes from the mosque next door. As someone who loves to argue about the price I pay, it was like one huge party to me. I will now give you my step-by-step guide for bargaining.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbZJj8TyEMFvdoQ7Y-Z3kJCW2QDyS5WRCnqkx8Y235wNT9W-Fs_wagLaOySFR2lsdkNrsn-E7gxPfPFVoQVD6HEda-jBDy57Caj5CXaZjq4pjQXKtiPawGzuK5UqS9jUrY17sjOJ7QOo4/s1600/mosaic+market.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="202" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbZJj8TyEMFvdoQ7Y-Z3kJCW2QDyS5WRCnqkx8Y235wNT9W-Fs_wagLaOySFR2lsdkNrsn-E7gxPfPFVoQVD6HEda-jBDy57Caj5CXaZjq4pjQXKtiPawGzuK5UqS9jUrY17sjOJ7QOo4/s400/mosaic+market.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<b>Step 1: Set your goals</b><br />
You need to know what you are looking for when you enter a market, or else you will get overwhelmed. This is also important since digging for the right item will likely be necessary.<br />
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<b>Step 2: Browse the selection</b><br />
Check out a few stalls and don’t be afraid to listen in on the prices locals are bargaining for. Once you have scoped out the territory you should be ready to start the hunt.<br />
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<b>Step 3: Show interest</b><br />
When you find an item you feel attached to, or fulfills your initial goal, observe it for a while until your careful consideration of the item captures the salesman’s eye. Say something in the way of “This is exactly what I was looking for,” loud enough so the salesman hears.<br />
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<b>Step 4: Ask for an initial price</b><br />
The salesman will usually give you an inflated price at these markets because he expects you to haggle (unless you are a tourist waiting to be ripped off – which YOU are NOT).<br />
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<b>Step 5: Attack!</b><br />
Respond with at least 30-50% the amount of the asking price. For example, when the salesman told me 12JD, I said 5JD. Now he is going to be adamant, and you stay on 5JD for a while and eventually go up to 6JD. Start mentioning that you have a budget and you don’t want to cross it.<br />
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<b>Step 6: Retreat</b><br />
This is part of the act, but timing is vital. First you need to make sure the salesman takes you seriously and you need to seem serious about the purchase. When he has gone down a bit on the asking price (like from 12JD to 10JD) but refuses to bulge, start walking away. If he doesn’t come after you either find something new or go back to raise your price. If he does come after you then congratulations, YOU WON!<br />
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I first went to the Friday Souq on Thursday night, and after successfully purchasing two sweaters and a pair of black boots for 10 JD in total, I finished off with warm DIY sandwich at <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jSdu31pA0FA">Salah al-Din’s Bakery</a>. This sandwich should also have a step-by-step guide! I mostly just imitated the man standing next to me. <br />
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Basically you walk in and order a piece of freshly baked sesame-coated bread, a packet of soft cheese, and a rather brown-looking egg. Then you move to one of the wooden counters on your left to assemble your sandwich, where you will also find plastic bowls full of zaatar, hot sauce, and various dirty metal knives. You wash the knife and then use it to cut the bread open, but don’t open it completely. Remove some of the soft insides of the bread as the steam emerges from the roll, still hot from the oven. Then smear on the soft cheese, sprinkle it with a nice fistful of zaatar, then bang the egg against the counter and peel off the shell. Once the shell is gone, cut up the egg with your knife and mash it into the cheese and zaatar smeared bread. Once this is done, pour some drops of hot sauce over it all to add some zing, close the sandwich and take a glorious bite. Dinner is served.<br />
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The next day I ended up returning to the souq! After spending the morning using the speedy internet at <a href="http://jo.jeeran.com/en/p/zodiac-restaurant-and-cafe-amman/">Zodiac</a>, the Jordanian lawyer I met at Vivid the other night drove me to explore the parts of Amman I hadn’t checked out yet, which is mainly Jabal al-Weibdeh. However, everything in al-Weibdeh was closed except for the <a href="https://foursquare.com/v/chocoholic-cafe/4da31c7a22a5f04d939f1d55">Chocoholic Café</a>. So my new friend and I grabbed some delicious hot chocolate (but I warn you – the chili chocolate is spicy!) and headed down to Abdali. The lawyer had lived in Amman almost his entire life, and yet had never been to the Friday Market! It proved to be a valuable experience for him. He walked around, speechless, and emerged saying how much more grateful he is for his socioeconomic background. He had never understood how close he was to poverty, where the only way people can afford new clothes is if the clothes cost 1 JD. In West Amman, with it’s American fast food restaurants and fancy cars, it is easy to forget that some people live on minimum wage in other areas of the city. <br />
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After that it was time for the next market – <a href="http://artmediumjo.blogspot.com/p/souq-fann.html">Souq Fann</a>! This was a drastic switch from the old and conservative to the modern and creative. This special market showcasing the works of local artists is sponsored by Art Medium and is only held once or twice a year. This time it was holiday themed and I was very successful in finding some unique Christmas gifts for my family. I even had a chance to meet the famous Jordanian cartoonist, <a href="http://www.mahjoob.com">Abu Mahjoub</a>, and see his most recent cartoons depicting the Jordanian people’s response to the recent rise in gas prices. In <a href="http://www.facebook.com/mlabbas">Mlabbas</a> I found a shirt I had long been looking for: <a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=533609039985828&set=pb.126409820705754.-2207520000.1356810166&type=3&theater">a man dressed in a suit and a kuffiyeh, dancing gangnam style, with “Abu Ghannam Style” written in English and Arabic in the corner</a>. This will be the one souvenir I purchase for myself from Jordan. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9wHqJ_KXc9Ie6THjQa47sWCPVCq6CX6sy7cKyf0v2GklT4uUQ5eUll_pMpHnVnYFdtQ_ME7qxj9H5hPI_l81EjR-01klDi4ojBcLP1tXdEk4nGhyBLUDVfe9bGq4k3MeCJNR8k2mwZCA/s1600/mosaic5e43450706d798c53d5ea799d5c24a932cf14ef8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="202" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9wHqJ_KXc9Ie6THjQa47sWCPVCq6CX6sy7cKyf0v2GklT4uUQ5eUll_pMpHnVnYFdtQ_ME7qxj9H5hPI_l81EjR-01klDi4ojBcLP1tXdEk4nGhyBLUDVfe9bGq4k3MeCJNR8k2mwZCA/s400/mosaic5e43450706d798c53d5ea799d5c24a932cf14ef8.jpg" /></a></div><br />
After the arts market I had a delicious meal of Mansaf with some Jordanian friends at <a href="http://jabri.jo">Jabri</a> by 5th circle, followed by shisha, tea, and watching Jordan’s favorite show, The Voice, at the cozy lounge <a href="http://cushionslounge.com/contact.html">Cushions</a>. <a href="http://www.mbc.net/ar/programs/the-voice.html">The Voice</a> is shown all over the Arab world and contestants can come from any country. One of the contestants sang a very old Arabic song and the whole café started singing along, including my friend’s 10-year old daughter. I love how every generation here is connected to the songs of their heritage. <br />
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The next day I woke up early to join four girls and one guy from my CIEE program to explore different desert castles as part of <a href="http://www.farahhotel.info/SitePages.aspx?Target=3">Farah Hotel’s Eastern Desert Tour</a>. For a mere 16 JD we were driven around in a private mini bus to various castles in Eastern Jordan, starting with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Qasr_Kharana">Qasr al-Harrana</a>. This castle, solitarily situated in the middle of sweeping desert next to a foreboding prison, was probably one of the first inns of the Islamic period. The 8th century building looks small at first in comparison with the wide expanse of flat desert, but when you get inside you enter a large square courtyard and its tremendous fun to explore the two levels surrounding the courtyard and find various hidden chambers, charred fireplaces, and Mesopotamian stucco discs. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjdmAIdcz2wUseGiQrIo7B2UhSbEVyIYh5dyS43CkpBMTMRbMkvKE5N21RXK6yWBAXeSbjs4WSoOi7C0xar8ls0bPFN30vgpYKEOXJnF9wb42gIuB5AJadQsiiQpithlEtncN98HaWoM/s1600/mosaic02077067bd625c2ca9a73fd501a0ff6dd577d5e0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="202" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjdmAIdcz2wUseGiQrIo7B2UhSbEVyIYh5dyS43CkpBMTMRbMkvKE5N21RXK6yWBAXeSbjs4WSoOi7C0xar8ls0bPFN30vgpYKEOXJnF9wb42gIuB5AJadQsiiQpithlEtncN98HaWoM/s400/mosaic02077067bd625c2ca9a73fd501a0ff6dd577d5e0.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Our next stop was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Qasr_Amra">Qasr Umra</a>, a world heritage site that used to be a hunting lodge for the Ummayad rulers. This building, also 8th century, looks even less impressive from the outside and is certainly smaller in size than Qasr Harrana, which adds even more to your surprise when you enter to see the entire interior surface covered in the most magnificent murals, the brilliant colors beautifully intact. The images of voluptuous half-naked women, animals playing, and colorful swirls brought alive a world when the surrounding landscape wasn’t desert but rather a popular hunting ground for the powerful Umayyad Caliphate. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizYPqCNWtBkp1WEBo5Za1mk7Gxwr9FLl_VgD0lFZaOkDOdFsLX5bSwJXYu_83Qswsp6FPRI59-t6M6HvJBfFNN-8zavRVS96yqBfRUmiXJi3VqnpfRlH0Z5wOV_RwIxj0Sj4TB2GraTVE/s1600/mosaic5a17b364c8eb642b09dcaa03b6b3994252fc2bc9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="202" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizYPqCNWtBkp1WEBo5Za1mk7Gxwr9FLl_VgD0lFZaOkDOdFsLX5bSwJXYu_83Qswsp6FPRI59-t6M6HvJBfFNN-8zavRVS96yqBfRUmiXJi3VqnpfRlH0Z5wOV_RwIxj0Sj4TB2GraTVE/s400/mosaic5a17b364c8eb642b09dcaa03b6b3994252fc2bc9.jpg" /></a></div><br />
After that we continued on a road that dramatically splits off in the directions of either Iraq or Saudi Arabia, where we find <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Qasr_Azraq">Azraq Castle</a>. This castle has been geostrategically valuable for a number of armed forces, most recently the Arab revolt led by Lawrence of Arabia during WWI. The castle is huge yet in ruins, and the museum space in one of the lower chambers is very poorly lit. <br />
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Finally we were on our way to our last castle, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Qasr_al_Hallabat">Qaser Al Halabat</a>, which we happened to have all to ourselves. As dramatic grey storm clouds rolled in over the sand-swept desert, we climbed staircases leading to nowhere, pretended to be Umayyad statues, and treaded on thousand-year old mosaic floors. <br />
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After that we finally returned to Amman, where we stopped to have another egg and cheese sandwich at Salah Al-Din – a welcome alternative to the over-consumed falafel sandwich.<br />
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</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-4008410980978386122012-12-07T01:40:00.000-08:002012-12-07T01:40:33.943-08:00شكرا الأردن!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">As my time in Jordan comes to a close, I cannot help but begin to thank the people and places of this country that made this semester my best semester yet. I’ve had countless incredible experiences during my time here and learnt so much about both the multifarious Jordanian culture and the real politics of the Middle East thanks to its unbelievably hospitable people and its incredible diversity of environments. I am already making plans to return to the region next summer on <a href="http://digkabri2013.wordpress.com/">an archaeological dig</a> (انشالله I get a spot on the expedition!).<br />
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I have been busy since I returned from my week in Europe. Not long after I got back thanksgiving was upon us, which <a href="http://www.ciee.org/">CIEE</a> celebrated by hosting a luncheon for the program participants and their <a href="http://mariellesmiddleeast.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-shame-in-honor.html">peer tutors</a>. I came half an hour late so I missed the turkey, even though I heard they cooked three! However, I had a pleasant conversation about football and engineering with some University of Jordan students over hummus and apple cider. I had a chance to have turkey that evening finally! Some family friends from Rhode Island happened to live in Amman and had invited me to spend thanksgiving with them. The couple was incredibly kind and had an adorable 14-month old baby who had just learned how to say, “What’s that?” and was now constantly posing all sorts of existential questions. The family are members of <a href="http://www.elcjhl.org/">the evangelical church in Jordan</a> It was a surprise to find myself among Christians after so much time only being surrounded by Muslims, mainly because drinking alcohol was completely acceptable and even encouraged. <br />
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The couple were related to the owner of<a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/Hotel_Review-g293986-d308152-Reviews-The_Regency_Palace_Hotel-Amman_Amman_Governorate.html"> the Regency Palace Hotel</a>, so after watching a bit of <a href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/ferris_buellers_day_off/">Ferris Bueller’s Day Off</a> at the couple’s spacious apartment while they dressed the baby, we headed to the hotel for a full gourmet buffet of typical thanksgiving food like turkey, stuffing, and sweet potatoes and typical Jordanian dishes, like hummus, moutabbal, and kibbeh. All of it was served in a private area of the hotel dining room for all the relatives. It was such a friendly and beautiful family! I was thankful to have such good family friends on this auspicious day for Americans.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5P6m-y0rgZIzc57fbp9G3rV_1O-wGLWLfh0r8_ZYXoca-PaI_ji38glWPDEOmrG5cEToJZT-nbifTm95N6XMkYa2-nzJrOCBu4oLqE5KT2D9lNCFVJ5EkbJZZzMbzsLdMCk176bUg7-E/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-12-06+at+11.25.56+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="277" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5P6m-y0rgZIzc57fbp9G3rV_1O-wGLWLfh0r8_ZYXoca-PaI_ji38glWPDEOmrG5cEToJZT-nbifTm95N6XMkYa2-nzJrOCBu4oLqE5KT2D9lNCFVJ5EkbJZZzMbzsLdMCk176bUg7-E/s400/Screen+shot+2012-12-06+at+11.25.56+AM.png" /></a></div><br />
A few days later I was invited to quite a different dinner experience. My peer tutor, who I’ve mentioned in an earlier post, was kind enough to invite me over for dinner at her family’s house. I knew from my friend from the CIEE program who lives with the family that they are very conservatively Muslim. Men and women live in separate parts of the house and while my peer tutor can socialize with her brother or father, she cannot socialize with my friend, who is her own host brother, because he is an unmarried male from outside her immediate family. He has lived in the same house as her for months without even having a conversation with her. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8OageEPHDT0gY8svWfmtpcTJQDaSXhuEqJjecB13wvQW7bgq6phMoRcuP5r5zjl28hAQ35iTfX-pyPHIYEsw6jZRqCeSQIJ4bYP1Iod_dqhN58AwDleuHWKoQiiYdPz7mKcomaogQJkE/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-12-06+at+11.29.24+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="226" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8OageEPHDT0gY8svWfmtpcTJQDaSXhuEqJjecB13wvQW7bgq6phMoRcuP5r5zjl28hAQ35iTfX-pyPHIYEsw6jZRqCeSQIJ4bYP1Iod_dqhN58AwDleuHWKoQiiYdPz7mKcomaogQJkE/s400/Screen+shot+2012-12-06+at+11.29.24+AM.png" /></a></div><br />
However, I had a wonderful time at the house. The many women of the household welcomed me with open arms. They showed me wedding pictures of themselves or their siblings (two of whom live in Germany) and prepared a huge feast of kuza (stuffed zucchini and grape leaves), rice with nuts and dried fruit, and roasted chicken. Afterwards we played with the one-year old baby, Laith, who was obsessed with my hair, and one of the women did my nails. She explained that <a href="http://americanbedu.com/2008/09/09/saudi-arabia-islam-and-nail-polish/">they need to repaint their nails every time they pray</a>, since you are not allowed to pray woth nail polish on because it prevents complete ablution. After watching a Turkish soap opera and drinking Turkish coffee (Am I in Jordan or Turkey?) with them I headed off but promised to visit soon again. <br />
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That Friday I jumped onto a trip with some other CIEE students to the much-needed natural spa that is <a href="http://www.lonelyplanet.com/jordan/activities/hot-springs/hammamat-ma-in">Hammamat Ma’in</a>. These naturally hot waterfalls fall not far from the Dead Sea, about 3 hours drive on the stunningly curved <a href="http://www.lonelyplanet.com/jordan/kings-highway">King’s Highway</a> from Amman. We had a taxi driver with Mumayaz Taxi take us for a flat rate of 35 JOD for the whole day, including a side trip to <a href="http://www.lonelyplanet.com/jordan/kings-highway/madaba">Madaba</a> to have a late lunch and check out some mosaics. While we were at the waterfalls, the driver also took the opportunity to swim and was actually the last person out of the hot springs! <br />
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The hot springs were male-dominated, so as a woman you should either stick to the 10 JOD fee for the public hot springs (but swim in shorts and a t-shirt) or wear your bikini at the more expensive hotel complex further down the valley. The waterfall created a natural steam room in a cave behind it, and if you stood right under the waterfall you had nature giving you a shoulder and back massage! It’s the most ecological spa treatment I’ve ever had. The entrance also included access to the slightly dingy Roman Baths up the hill and to the right from the hot springs. On the way back to Amman we stopped off in Madaba, where we satisfied our growing hunger at the 7 JOD buffet at <a href="http://www.lonelyplanet.com/jordan/kings-highway/madaba/restaurants/buffet/dana-restaurant">Dana Restaurant</a>. This was followed by an exclusive (and free!) tour of the 6th century mosaics in <a href="http://www.lonelyplanet.com/jordan/kings-highway/madaba/sights/architecture/church-apostles">the Church of the Apostles</a> down the street from the restaurant. <br />
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That night I got a good night’s rest before my next day full of activity. I woke up early to meet the CIEE staff, students, and peer tutors that had gotten a spot on the final volunteering trip of the semester at <a href="http://www.select.jo/Amman-iraq-il-amir.shtm">Iraq al Amir School for Boys.</a> Iraq al Amir is a breathtaking area of Jordan an hour outside of Amman that is home to a poor community of farmers. CIEE had been coming to the school the past couple of weeks to paint it, in order to encourage the students’ learning and brighten up their environment. I came fortunately during the final phase of painting murals on the walls! Together with a student from the <a href="http://www.ju.edu.jo/home.aspx">University of Jordan</a> writing a master’s thesis on the evidence of toxic chemicals in lamb meat sold in Jordan (important work!) I painted a tree. After all the painting was done, another university of Jordan student and I tried to lead the children into a game of charades, which just ended in all the children trying to touch my blonde hair. <br />
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However, the children showed capacity for organization when it was time for <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4NuGU5G1dIE">the national anthem</a> and they all stood in perfect lines according to their grade, backs held straight and hands to their foreheads in nationalistic pride. After the ceremony we had a football game where the university students suffered a horrible defeat to these elementary students, losing 2-5. It was then time for gift-giving. CIEE had us give out winter jackets they had purchased for the children, as well as space heaters for the school. After every kid got their jacket we made a victory tunnel and cheered the kids on. The smiles on their faces were priceless. Some of them were even skipping through the tunnel of cheering university students, and all the kids hurried to try on their new jackets despite the heat.<br />
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We were also given a gift! I got a mug with smiling hearts on it, which perfectly describes how I felt about the day. If my heart was a cup, it would have been full that day, and if it was a face, it would have been smiling. We were also given cake and cookies! Any day where dessert comes before the main course is a good day. However, CIEE still wanted to treat us to a local meal, so we were driven to an orchard where we had delicious kebab and <a href="http://allrecipes.com/recipe/shish-tawook-grilled-chicken/">shish tawok</a>. The whole way back to Amman the students from the University of Jordan and I sang Jordanian wedding songs and danced in the bus. I love Jordanians’ ability to party anywhere at any time!<br />
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This week was the last week of Arabic classes and my internship, which is bittersweet. It’s sad to see it all end, but it’s nice to have more time to do all the things in Amman I haven’t been able to do yet. This weekend I’m planning to check out <a href="http://www.black-iris.com/2007/02/02/the-abdali-souq/">Souq Abdali </a>(the big Friday market), <a href="http://blogjordan.com/tag/jabal-alweibdeh/">alWeibdeh</a> (a historic neighborhood buzzing with art galleries), <a href="http://www.facebook.com/events/109659695860279/">Souq Fann</a> (the Christmas art market in Amman), and do <a href="http://www.farahhotel.info/SitePages.aspx?Target=3">a tour of ruined castles in Eastern Jordan</a>. I will try to update you on that before I fly off to Germany to see my habibi on Wednesday. <br />
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Finally, shukran to all you readers of this blog who have followed me on my eventful study abroad journey. I hope, if I haven’t inspired you to visit Jordan, I have at least entertained you. However, I have gotten some feedback from various people that they like what I write, so shukran ktheer.<br />
</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-73959795793814161682012-12-03T01:48:00.000-08:002012-12-07T01:53:37.382-08:00I Recycle Love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">The problems with excessive waste are far from unique to Jordan or the region that <a href="http://www.foeme.org/www/?module=home">FoEME</a> works in so sharing FoEME’s experience and learning from best practices elsewhere in the world is an important part of our work. From November 12 to 18 FoEME was invited by <a href="http://www.wecenter.org/">The East and West Center for Human Resource Development</a> to learn more about waste problems abroad and how to solve them on a practical level at a training course in Murcia, Spain. The training course focused on the “three R’s”: how to reduce consumption, reuse domestic materials, and teach youth about recycling in southern Spain. The training course, part of the EU-funded Youth in Action Program, brought together 21 participants from 10 different countries: Spain, Italy, Slovenia, Latvia, Poland, Romania, Turkey, Egypt, Palestine, and of course Jordan. During the course of the week we learned how to deal with waste problems in our countries and shared with the participants our work and experience in these areas. <br />
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Since the training course would cover 70% of transportation costs (and all room and board costs in Spain), I decided to manipulate flight times in order to make a 24-hour stopover in Germany to visit an old friend from Malta. My friend and I had dated in high school and had remained good friends ever since we last saw each other, almost three years ago! I ended up having 24 hours going to Spain, and more than 24 hours going back! I flew with <a href="http://www.airberlin.com/en-DE/site/start.php">Air Berlin</a>, operated by Royal Jordanian, to Frankfurt. My friend was waiting at the airport for me with a sign saying my name in Arabic! We proceeded to head into Frankfurt and catch up a bit over a butter pretzel and beer, typical German food-on-the-go. After that we explored a little bit of Frankfurt and tried to crash <a href="http://tv.mtvema.com/">MTV EMA</a>, but that failed! Apparently you don’t just buy tickets, you win or you’re invited, as the very amused security officer outside told us. We decided to throw some leaves in the air instead and have an impromptu autumn party! <br />
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After realizing that Frankfurt is boring we moved on to Mannheim, grabbing ice cream on the way (it’s never too cold for ice cream, right?). We eventually got comfortable at my friend’s favorite bar, <a href="http://www.turmcafe-stars.de/">Stars</a>, where we enjoyed cocktails named after famous personas like Charlie Sheen and Megan Fox while admiring the fantastic view of Mannheim at sunset. I recommend the place! <br />
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After that it was finally time for my final German town of the day, Karlsruhe, where we quickly passed by the major landmark of the city, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karlsruhe_Palace">Karlsruher Schloss</a>, and stopped off at cozy <a href="http://www.cafe-bleu.de/">Café Bleu</a> for a nightcap before heading home to my friend's apartment. After a short nap I was awoken by my friend strumming the guitar to an amazing candle-lit dinner of Rindergeschnetzeltes (beef) with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spätzle">Spätzle</a> (thick German spaghetti). <br />
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After dinner we danced salsa and talked until the bakery opened at 6am so we could go get fresh bread. The woman at the bakery was so sweet and gave me a free bread bun so that I would have a good impression of Germany. After that it was time to head over to Frankfurt-Hahn airport for my <a href="http://www.ryanair.com/en">Ryan Air</a> flight to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alicante">Alicante</a>. Give lots of time to get to Frankfurt-Hahn because it is not close to Frankfurt at all! It was sad to say good bye to my good friend after such an amazing time but I would see him again in a week. In Alicante I grabbed the bus to the train station and sipped a café con leche until my train to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murcia">Murcia</a>, the location of the training course, arrived.<br />
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The training course took place at the <a href="http://www.magrama.gob.es/es/ceneam/recursos/quien-es-quien/cemacam.aspx">CEMACAM Torre Guil</a> , an environmental education center near a nature reserve in southeastern Spain, for the practical workshops but finished off with two nights in Murcia, an Andalusian town 15 minutes away, to expose the participants to the local culture. The environmental education center was beautiful and cleverly designed, possessing a natural heating and cooling system through its unique architecture. Our accommodations were built into a mountain and we were treated to traditional Spanish breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the cafeteria, which was also disguised as part of the natural surroundings.<br />
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The first day we took turns to present the waste problems in our country. I presented on Friends of the Earth Middle East ’s work in trying to rehabilitate the Jordan River and save the Dead Sea. I explained that the most valuable resource in Jordan is water, and therefore FoEME is working to reduce the consumption of water through water saving strategies, reuse water e.g. through grey water systems, and recycle water e.g. through rainwater harvesting. Each country had their specific problems with wasteful consumption, such as lack public sector support in Palestine and Egypt and lack of financial incentives in Latvia and Spain. In the afternoon we shared environmental education activities that our organization employs to educate youth about environmental stewardship, and I shared some of the educational toolkits I had developed for the youth programs at the Sharhabil bin Hassneh Park . <br />
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There were six practical workshops, besides a teambuilding workshop in the beginning and a future projects workshop at the end. We first learned how to make soap from used cooking oil, although my soap slightly failed and coagulated too quickly. <br />
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After that we made jewelry from old CDs, by putting them in the microwave so they get a cool design, cutting them and then melting pieces together in an oven. The jewelry turned out beautiful and you would never guess it was from a CD! The woman who led the workshop and had refined the technique had gotten the idea from a youtube video of a crazy person microwaving CDs. <br />
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We also learned how to make bags and skirts out of old t-shirts, although sewing is certainly not my forte, and make decorations out of books and magazines, which was simple but arduous. The last day we met a Spanish artist named Angel Haro who had bee inspired by the resourcefulness and creativity with which third-world children make toys. We got to try our own creativity in making toys out recycled materials, after getting inspiration from <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oLc-ijr13mM">a video of a toy-making workshop Haro led at a school in rural India</a>. Finally we made puppets. Cultural activities included an intercultural night, where everyone gave a presentation about the traditions of the country they represented and brought a food, beverage, or gift from that country. <br />
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The last morning at the environmental education Center the Egyptian representative and I scrambled up one of the hills in the nature reserve to watch the mist rise over the surrounding landscape. It was an adventure! We were given a tour of the environmental education center CEMACAM Torre Guil and a city tour of Murcia, showing us the medieval Arab King’s palace and his cleverly irrigated garden that had stood the test of time. On the last two evenings they treated us to <a href="http://www.murciaturistica.es/es/turismo.restaurante?restaurante=56-2011">local food at favorite restaurants in Murcia</a>. The food was amazing! It was usually a selection of typical Murcian small dishes, complemented by plenty of local wine and beer. <br />
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After dinner we went out to explore Murcian nightlife, where the Slovenian couple showed us their incredible Latin dance skills. The last day we brainstormed projects for the future, and I thought of one to promote ecotourism through youth exchanges. When we said good bye it felt like saying good bye to a family! The whole training course was amazing, but the most amazing part of it was the people, and I am blessed to have so many friends across Europe and the Middle East because of it. <br />
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After Spain it was time for Sonntag in Deutschland Part 2. This time I arrived into Karlsruhe-Baden Baden airport, two hours delayed but worth the wait. My friend and I grabbed the bus, train, and tram into Karlsruhe, where we stopped at <a href="http://www.lehners-wirtshaus.de/">Lehners Wirtshaus</a> to have some schnitzel and more delicious German beer. After the food we quickly freshened up at my friend’s apartment and went to have a few cocktails with his friends at <a href="http://cocktail-karlsruhe.de/">Hotel Santo Cocktailbar</a>, a classy establishment that even offered a cigar menu. We then returned to my friend’s place for some Gluhwein and salsa dancing. In the process my close friend, who is also my high school sweetheart as I mentioned before, and I felt the old sparks fly and had the conversation neither of us had dared to have the last weekend I was in Germany. By the morning, we had decided to enter a relationship, figuring we were fortunate enough to be single best friends with a connection that transcends friendship. Why would anyone throw that away? <br />
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We spent the day walking up to the beautiful but damaged <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heidelberg_Castle">Heidelberg Castle</a> and admired the magnificent birds-eye view of Heidelberg from its gardens. On the way back to the train station to get to the airport, we met up with another couple and had gluhwein. Finally we got on the train to the airport, thinking we were right on time for the flight. Unfortunately, somewhere between Mannheim and Frankfurt Flughafen someone “interfered with the train”, or in other words jumped in front of the train to commit suicide, causing an hour delay and me missing my flight to Amman. There was no way to get another ticket until the next day so I had to put out some cash at the last minute desk and spend another night with my new boyfriend. As new romance goes, we sang our way through this mishap and decided to make the best of it by buying döner kebab and getting a good night’s rest in Karlsruhe. <br />
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The next day I flew via Bucharest and Beirut to Amman with <a href="http://www.tarom.ro/">TAROM</a>, which has horrible airplane food but was bearable. During my 10 hour lay-over in Bucharest I decided to go into the bleak gray city and found refuge from the cold in <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kafeterya-CAFE/192246337465070">Kafeteriya</a>, a Turkish Cafe in the university district, where they started playing a huge harp next to me. When it came time to find my way back to the airport, I found no one who spoke English, but I did end up sharing the mutual language of Arabic with a Romanian popstar at the bus stop, who proceeded to guide me on the fastest route to the right bus station through Bucharest streets, that are riddled with wildly barking dogs who I swear had rabies and prostitutes who were being cautiously followed by the police. On the final leg of the trip I sat next to a fascinating Lebanese-Romanian businessman who had lived all over the world and recommended that I visit Samarkand in Uzbekistan sometime. Once I got to Amman I didn't stop making friends! While waiting for my friend to pick me up at the airport, I chatted with this elderly Iraqi man who invited me to visit him in Baghdad. That is not on my list of places to go right now, but we had a nice conversation. Once I got home I had enough time to unpack, change clothes, and head to Arabic class, but after a sleepness night of flying through three countries I could barely keep my eyes open and was sent home by my kind professor to get some rest. <br />
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In my next post, which will hopefully be up soon (I’m falling so behind!) I will tell you about visiting the home of a conservative Muslim family, day-tripping to some naturally hot waterfalls near the Dead Sea, and spending a day painting murals at a boys’ school in a poor rural community. Auf wiedersehen! Hasta luego! <br />
</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-40522405107481526422012-11-25T05:30:00.003-08:002012-12-03T01:48:44.928-08:00Eid Break Part 3: Jerusalem, Eilat, Petra, The Dead Sea, and Amman<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So much has happened that I am falling behind in my blogging, and I apologize for that. I haven’t even written about eid yet! I will try and make pictures tell most of the story so I can get to the wonderful present as soon as possible.<br />
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Our second day in Jerusalem we woke up early to go to the market <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mahane_Yehuda_Market">Makhne Yehuda</a>. However, we were so early that nothing had opened yet so we got a coffee first and then explored the stalls of spices, dried fruits, fresh vegetables, and sweets. We then bought some presents for the family at a local jeweler (they will see what it is when the holidays roll around). After the market we didn’t have a plan so we used my little trick of walking into a bookstore and looking through a guidebook to find the next destination. However, a writer and her poet daughter cannot enter a bookstore without having to buy something – so we emerged with the English translation of one of my favorite Swedish books, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/1401324649">The 100 Year-Old Man That Climbed Out of the Window and Disappeared</a>. It is a hilarious sort-of Swedish Forrest Gump with a dark side that I highly recommend.<br />
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Thanks to the guidebooks at the bookstore we choose to go to <a href="http://www.go-out.com/ticho/houseEng.html">Ticho House</a>. After a long search we found the exhibition to be closed for renovation but we did visit the spectacular <a href="http://www.museumofpsalms.com/">Museum of Psalms</a> where an old rabbi had translated verses from the Torah into incredibly colorful and powerful paintings displaying the message of the texts. My mom and I whiled away the time having deep discussions about life and love in front of those paintings, and then had a cup of tea in the beautiful garden of Ticho House. <br />
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After walking to the bus stop, we found out that the bus we planned to take is full, so we booked seats on the bus leaving three hours later and decided to grab lunch somewhere. <a href="http://holybagel.com/apage/68695.php">Holy Bagel</a> provided us with delicious bagels, salad, and free WiFi! After getting our fill of bagels we walked to <a href="http://www.yourway.co.il/Saker_Garden.html">the Sacher Garden</a> near the Knesset and sat in green grass eating the dates and nuts that we had bought that morning in Makhne Yehuda, returning to the bus station in plenty of time.<br />
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We arrived in Eilat late at night and found our way to our tiny room in the kooky <a href="http://www.corinnehostel.com/">Corinne Hostel</a>. We freshened up and decided to explore the nightlife of Eilat. Besides <a href="http://e.novu.co.il/e10/index.html">the biggest Ghost House in Israel</a> and a crazy Russian party at one of the hotels, nothing much seemed to be happening, so we returned to the hostel to do our nails and watch a mediocre romcom. Such a cozy mother-daughter evening!<br />
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The next morning we went to a local bakery to grab breakfast, packed our bags, checked out, and headed to the beach. It was so nice to spend a few hours in a bikini, dozing off in the sand or swimming out in the temperate blue waters of the Red Sea. <br />
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After the beach we grabbed a taxi to the border, where we ran out of shekels and the taxi driver refused to believe that <a href="http://themoneyconverter.com/JOD/ILS.aspx">the Jordanian dinar is stronger than the Israeli shekel</a> so we overpaid him. Oh well. <a href="http://rotaryincairo.blogspot.com/2011/01/taba-eilat-border-crossing-and-eilat.html">The border crossing</a> was very relaxed, with only a couple of families calmly processing their papers so they could walk the few meters over the border to the Jordanian checkpoint. The border crossing cost 89 shekel, and the visa for Aqaba is free to encourage tourism to Aqaba. We passed relatively quickly and on either side they said I had an Israeli/Arabic name. In Jordan I also got my first pickup line from a passport control officer: “Where are you from?” “Sweden.” “Oh I thought you were from heaven.” Welcome back to Jordan!<br />
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We got a taxi for 65 dinar to <a href="http://www.sevenwondersbedouincamp.com/">the Seven Wonders Bedouin camp</a> in Little Petra, where we would be staying for the next two nights. We got lost in Wadi Musa for a while, but finally found the camp, which was lit up with tiny candles across the entire side of a small mountain. It was beautiful! We were immediately welcomed into the dinner tent for some delicious local food. After dinner we got settled into our cozy little tent and went to sit around the fire, where we were offered free tea and had an interesting conversation with a slightly crazy woman who had been to Petra many times but never to any other place in Jordan. I told her she has to visit the rest of the country!<br />
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The next morning we woke up bright and early to grab a quick breakfast and go to Petra. We got to the Treasury before the fingers of sunlight had reached down the mountain to touch its rosy exterior. First challenge was <a href="http://www.nationalgeographic.com/history/ancient/petra-360-3.html">the High Place of Sacrifice</a>, which is high indeed. We got a bit lost on the way and found some elephant sculptures near a spot where two Bedouin boys were grazing their sheep. We finally made it to our destination, which had a magnificent view. After sharing a buffet platter for lunch at the cafeteria (10 JOD), we moved on to our next challenge: climbing the 999 steps to <a href="http://www.virtualtourist.com/travel/Middle_East/Jordan/Muhafazat_Maan/Petra-1800275/Things_To_Do-Petra-The_Monastery-BR-1.html">the Monastery</a>. Once again it was worth it, and we went even higher from there to a viewpoint overlooking the arid Wadi Araba. A Bedouin young man offered us a cup of tea at the Monastery while trying to convince me to climb to the roof of the gargantuan Monastery. Fortunately my mother was there to talk some sense into me, since this Bedouin probably didn’t have the purest of intentions. We did some souvenir shopping on the way down from the incredibly adamant vendors. Both things I bought have already broken, so I don’t recommend buying souvenirs there. We explored <a href="http://www.brown.edu/Departments/Joukowsky_Institute/Petra/">the Grand Temple</a>, the mosaics in the Byzantine Church, and the Royal Tombs, before returning back through the narrow passageway leading out to Wadi Musa. For the last part we rode horses to give our weary legs a rest. Nine hours of exploring a natural wonder takes its toll on you!<br />
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Back in the Bedouin camp mamma learned how to tie a kuffiyeh and we ate another hearty local meal, this time the famous makhlouba. We befriended a friendly Canadian man who worked in a gold mine in Mauritania. <br />
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The next day we woke up a bit later than the morning before to get a taxi, which the Bedouin camp owners kindly arranged for us to ensure we weren’t ripped off again. The ride along <a href="http://www.atlastours.net/jordan/kings_highway.html">the King’s Highway</a> to the Dead Sea was very scenic and we stopped multiple times for pictures, including a pit stop at <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Hotel_Review-g318873-d319517-Reviews-Dana_Guest_House-Dana_Tafilah_Governorate.html">the Dana Guesthouse</a> where I ended up having tea with some men from Amman on the balcony overlooking stunning Wadi Dana. <br />
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<a href="http://www.dip.jo/?q=node/125">The O Beach</a> by the Dead Sea was exactly the oasis I hoped for it to be. What a luxury! We paid the 25JOD to enter and then went to change in the spacious changing rooms. I fashioned a beach dress out of my scarf and we decided to check out the Omara Lebanese Restaurant to see if they took cards, since we were very low on cash. The manager greeted us saying that the machine was broken, so he took us in as his guests and offered us to sit down. We took part in a wonderful buffet meal with delicious Lebanese food, followed by delicious chocolate mousse and Turkish coffee. However, by the time we finished our meal the credit card machine was working again so we were charged for everything except the drinks and the coffee. The food was so good, though, that we didn’t feel to bad about it.<br />
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We proceeded to soak and float in the Dead Sea, covering ourselves with the famous Dead Sea mud, and then soaking and floating some more. After that we showered to get off all that salt, lounged in the sun beds, and swam in the infinity pool upstairs. Feeling relaxed and refreshed, we returned to Amman.<br />
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After a quickly freshening up at ACOR, my friends picked us up and took us to <a href="http://www.booksatcafe.com/">Books@Cafe</a>, where we had cocktails and lots of fun. By 1am we were all getting a bit hungry, so we decided to find a restaurant that was still open. After much searching we settled for the Yemeni place I had visited with my Colloquial Arabic class. We sat on the floor in a private room at 2am and ate chicken and rice from a large shared platter with our hands. I am so proud of my mom for going along with all this!<br />
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The next day was our explore Amman day. We tried to follow <a href="http://www.beamman.com/on-the-street/off-the-beaten-track-/189-a-day-of-the-beatentrack-amman">an itinerary I found on BeAmman</a>, but of course it didn’t go exactly as planned. However, the whole day made me love Amman even more. We started off by walking down Rainbow Street and getting falafel at Al-Quds. We then walked down from there to King Husseini Mosque, speaking to Libyan children and shopping spices on the way. Downtown was bustling with Saturday shoppers and we whiled away time buying souvenirs and trying local delicacies such as kunefeh. At the Roman Theater, after touring the Museum of Popular Traditions, we were offered cups of tea by the policemen at the entrance. The policemen then proceeded to introduce us to another man who took us to the daggers workshop mentioned in BeAmman. We made new friends and bought some daggers and gold. <br />
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After that we crossed to the next “jabal” or mountain to the Umayyad ruins at the Amman Citadel. The Museum was closed unfortunately, but the old Umayyad castle had reopened since I had last been there, and it was amazing fun getting lost in the ruins. After that we took a taxi to the mysterious House of Poetry that I had wanted to visit for so long. The House turned out to not be so impressive, but only for its vantage point that is actually exactly above the Roman theater! We walked back down, past the Roman theater and into the Downtown area where we got lost looking for a restaurant serving Mansaf. We eventually went to Jabri where we enjoyed Jordan’s national dish in a more Western fashion than I have experienced in the past. After that it was time to say good-bye and go home to study. I am so happy my mom visited me and could see the beauty of Jordan and the kindness of its people for herself!<br />
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My next post will include, first of all, a short summary of my experience at an all-Jordanian Model United Nations Conference, where I submitted a resolution to solve youth unemployment as the delegation of Iran and met Princess Sumaya. <br />
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Secondly I will tell you what I learned at the training course on “The World of Reducing and Reusing” that I attended in southern Spain along with 20 other participants from 10 different countries in Europe and the Middle East, and finally, I will write about rekindling romance in southern Germany. <br />
</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-87093833839957985442012-11-07T16:04:00.001-08:002012-11-08T03:40:27.555-08:008 Reasons Why Today May Be The Best Day of My Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">1. I’M GOING TO SPAIN NEXT WEEK!<br />
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I was invited through a friend of a friend (of a friend of a friend – Amman is small!) to represent Jordan at a training course on recycling in Murcia, Spain, on behalf of <a href="http://www.wecenter.org/">the East and West Center for Human Resource Development</a>. It covers all accommodation, food, program cost, and 70% of travel costs. The training course goes by the philosophy of learning by doing, so we will be making soaps, creating bags out of jeans, and making toys out of trash, among other useful skills. We will be staying at the gorgeous environmental education center <a href="https://foursquare.com/v/cemacam-torre-guil/4c93a70d6b35a143970d14dc">CEMACAM Torre Guil</a> and during our free time explore the Old Arab city of <a href="http://www.alicante-spain.com/murcia.html">Murcia</a>. There are no words for how excited I am!<br />
<br />
2. I’M STOPPING BY GERMANY ON THE WAY TO SPAIN!<br />
<br />
I have a good friend I haven’t seen for almost three years living and studying in <a href="http://wikitravel.org/en/Karlsruhe">Karlsruhe, Germany</a>, who I have been promising to visit. With some clever manipulation of <a href="http://www.airberlin.com/">Air Berlin</a> and <a href="http://www.ryanair.com/en">Ryan Air</a> flight times, I will finally see him again!<br />
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3. I MAY HAVE FOUND MY DREAM JOB OF WORKING WITH INTERCULTURAL DIALOGUE IN THE MIDDLE EAST!<br />
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The organization I will be representing in Spain does exactly what I dream of doing with my degree in international affairs, anthropology, and Arabic after I graduate. After I come back from the training course they want my help in developing a project related to environmental issues and <a href="http://wecenter.org/web/index.php?option=com_content&view=category&layout=blog&id=31&Itemid=34&lang=en">their vision</a> of intercultural communication – <i>my help!</i><br />
<br />
4. OBAMA IS AMERICA’S NEW PRESIDENT!<br />
<br />
My mother and grandmother worked on the campaign, I volunteered in the White House, and my sister and dad went to <a href="http://www.bjornwelander.com/Events/Obama-rally-2012/26374623_PvmjML#!i=2199115588&k=mhSpgf8">the democratic rally in Virginia</a> last week. It feels almost like a personal victory and I am so relieved that disaster was averted and that the USA is giving Obama another chance. Even Jordanians were deeply moved by his <a href="http://www.realclearpolitics.com/articles/2012/11/06/transcript_of_obamas_victory_speech_116108.html">victory speech</a>!<br />
<br />
5. I GOT CONFIRMED TO BE IRAN AT <a href="http://www.facebook.com/PSUT.MUN">THE MODEL UN CONFERENCE</a> AT <a href="http://www.psut.jo/site/en/">PRINCESS SUMAYA UNIVERSITY OF TECHNOLOGY</a> THIS WEEKEND!<br />
<br />
This weekend I will be engaging in diplomatic discussions with intelligent young Jordanians on these three topics:<br />
• The role of youth in political parties regarding political life. <br />
• Preparations for the Next Global Economic Meltdown; The Aftermath.<br />
• The Jobless Generation: Regional crisis in youth employment.<br />
I will be meeting Jordanians from universities all over Amman and argue with them about current political issues from the standpoint of Iran, in my first time ever as delegate (rather than staffer) at a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Model_United_Nations">MUN conference</a>. On top of that I will get to see Princess Sumaya of Jordan, and maybe Queen Rania.<br />
<br />
6. I GOT A HAIRCUT FOR FREE (KIND OF)!<br />
<br />
I had a 3-month membership at <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Aspire-Ladies-Gym-Spa/453379518005572">Aspire Ladies Gym</a> but realized that I wouldn’t use up the membership, so I reduced it to one month and got the refund as credit for the spa. I promptly used this credit to get a much-needed haircut and now my hair looks better than it has in months!<br />
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7. I DIDN’T HAVE A QUIZ IN MY "MIDDLE EAST: ALTERNATIVE PERSPECTIVES" CLASS!<br />
<br />
My professor cut us some slack today because he figured we were all sleep-deprived thanks to the election and it had been difficult for many of us (including me!) to find the movie we had to watch for today’s class, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=COesFcvkXaE&noredirect=1">Cairo 678</a>, which is a very powerful main-stream Egyptian movie on sexual harassment. About 93% of foreign women report cases of sexual harassment in Egypt, but this movie focused on how local women are taking a stand against this completely unacceptable social norm that exists in the land that its citizens call "the mother of the world". We also discussed <a href="http://www.nawalsaadawi.net/">Nawal El Saddawi</a>’s controversial literature on female circumcision and honor killings. I recommend all of you to read her seminal work “<a href="http://www.dhushara.com/book/zulu/islamp/nakface/naked.htm">The Hidden Face of Eve</a>”, especially the very moving introduction.<br />
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8. I WENT TO A JORDANIAN BIRTHDAY PARTY TODAY!<br />
<br />
My friend (who I went to the wedding with) called me up in the afternoon and told me I was invited to his 8-year old cousin’s birthday party that very evening. The food that my friend’s aunt had made was delicious, and for dessert we had crème caramel, strawberry jello, strawberry cake, and chocolate cake, which was all delicious. Afterwards we drank tea and smoked shisha, and the women bonded over the complexities of studying Arabic grammar while the men played cards and smoked on the patio upstairs. There was an adorable baby bumbling around that just about made my night! Thanks to the wedding, I feel like I have two Jordanian families now – my host family and this family.<br />
</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-25172402112517695772012-11-05T00:11:00.001-08:002012-11-05T00:11:33.880-08:00Yoav's Falafel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Our only night in Jerusalem during eid we decided to have the famous Jerusalem falafel. To our pleasant surprise our couchsurfing host and her friends were making a batch of falafel that evening so we were invited for a home-cooked meal. The home-made falafel, served with tahini and warm pita bread, was the best I had ever tasted. To drink we had home-brewed cinnamon and hibiscus tea. I couldn't leave without getting the recipe, and I will now share it with you. Here is Yoav's Amazing Falafel Balls:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwNtiNkOQSRe5vO1ybfVP0yMtMkgC-_JHQ1q-o82zUP7t2emwXvRTymh7ENDfr5JSVYSmKQag2POBZmyFCTsUxtN1KlquDRKBm9X6UslnRSMJCvaMMV_iipSDrI1p7VaabP0GjwePk_k/s1600/DSCF2903.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwNtiNkOQSRe5vO1ybfVP0yMtMkgC-_JHQ1q-o82zUP7t2emwXvRTymh7ENDfr5JSVYSmKQag2POBZmyFCTsUxtN1KlquDRKBm9X6UslnRSMJCvaMMV_iipSDrI1p7VaabP0GjwePk_k/s320/DSCF2903.JPG" /></a></div><b>Yoav’s Falafel Balls</b><br />
<br />
1 kg soaked (overnight) dried chickpeas<br />
4 tbsp chopped parsley<br />
3 tbsp chopped coriander<br />
1 tsp hot paprika<br />
6 garlic cloves<br />
1 tbsp baking soda<br />
2 tbsp cumin<br />
½ tbsp cinnamon<br />
½ tbsp nutmeg<br />
1 tsp pepper<br />
2 tsp salt<br />
<br />
1. Mix all ingredients, except for the spices, in a food processor. <br />
2. Add the spices and continue mixing.<br />
3. Let the mixture sit for at least two hours in the fridge (can sit also overnight).<br />
4. Use a teaspoon to form the balls with wet hands.<br />
5. After you form the balls, fry them in oil.<br />
<br />
Here is a recipe for pita bread that I found on <a href="http://mideastfood.about.com/od/breadsrice/r/pitabreadrecipe.htm">mideastfood.com</a>:<br />
<br />
<b>Pita Bread</b><br />
<br />
ita bread is served at just about every meal in the Middle East. It can be used for dipping, or to make delicious sandwiches in the pocket. In the Middle East, pita is made in brick ovens, where very high heat can be achieved. It is very hard to duplicate in a home kitchen, but this recipe, combined with high heat, comes very close.<br />
<br />
Ingredients:<br />
<br />
1 package of yeast, or quick rising yeast<br />
1/2 cup warm water<br />
3 cups all purpose flour<br />
1 1/4 teaspoon salt<br />
1 teaspoon granulated sugar<br />
1 cup lukewarm water<br />
Preparation:<br />
<br />
Dissolve yeast in 1/2 cup of warm water. Add sugar and stir until dissolved. Let sit for 10-15 minutes until water is frothy.<br />
<br />
Combine flour and salt in large bowl. <br />
<br />
Make a small depression in the middle of flour and pour yeast water in depression.<br />
<br />
Slowly add 1 cup of warm water, and stir with wooden spoon or rubber spatula until elastic.<br />
<br />
Place dough on floured surface and knead for 10-15 minutes. When the dough is no longer sticky and is smooth and elastic, it has been successfully kneaded. <br />
<br />
Coat large bowl with vegetable oil and place dough in bowl. Turn dough upside down so all of the dough is coated. <br />
<br />
Allow to sit in a warm place for about 3 hours, or until it has doubled in size. <br />
<br />
Once doubled, roll out in a rope, and pinch off 10-12 small pieces. Place balls on floured surface. Let sit covered for 10 minutes. Preheat oven to 500 deg F. and make sure rack is at the very bottom of oven. Be sure to also preheat your baking sheet.<br />
<br />
Roll out each ball of dough with a rolling pin into circles. Each should be about 5-6 inches across and 1/4 inch thick. <br />
<br />
Bake each circle for 4 minutes until the bread puffs up. Turn over and bake for 2 minutes. <br />
<br />
Remove each pita with a spatula from the baking sheet and add additional pitas for baking.<br />
<br />
Take spatula and gently push down puff. Immediately place in storage bags.<br />
<br />
And for Tahini, from <a href="http://mideastfood.about.com/od/dipsandsauces/r/tahinisauce.htm">the same website</a>:<br />
<br />
<b>Tahini</b><br />
<br />
Tahini sauce is made from tahini - a sesame seed paste. Tahini sauce is thinner and used in pita sandwiches, marinades, and dips. Tahini sauce is very easy to make. Store it in an airtight container in the refrigerator and it will keep for about two weeks.<br />
Ingredients:<br />
<br />
1/2 cup tahini (sesame seed paste)<br />
3 gloves garlic, crushed<br />
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt<br />
2 tablespoons olive oil<br />
1/4 cup lemon juice<br />
1 teaspoon parsley, finely chopped (optional)<br />
Preparation:<br />
<br />
In a food processor or mortar and pestle, combine garlic and tahini. Add kosher salt. <br />
<br />
Remove from food processor and add olive oil and lemon juice. If too thick, add a teaspoon of warm water until desired consistency. (Add parsley)<br />
</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-22415255095190227052012-11-04T23:22:00.001-08:002012-11-04T23:31:41.428-08:00The Bad and the Good of Culture Clash<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">This weekend has shown me new sides to Jordanian culture, both the good and the bad. I got my first job with <a href="http://www.modelicious.com.jo/">Modelicious Modeling Agency</a> as an usher at an engagement ceremony. I was cancelled for the job last minute and instead went to a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/377340172341803/?fref=ts">Halloween party</a> that my friends told me about. Apparently, in Jordan, you are a Satanist if you celebrate Halloween. Read this excellent blog post about the issue and what happened to the party I went to: <a href="http://leewritings.wordpress.com/2012/11/02/halloween-and-satan-in-amman/">Halloween and Satan in Amman</a>. My friends and I got out of the party safely, but I’ve never experienced anything like it. It was exactly as described in the blog post, a really fun and very safe party on the inside (the DJ from <a href="http://www.ministryofsound.com/radio/">Ministry of Sound</a> was spinning amazing tracks all night), but a battleground on the outside, and it all started with an online media rumor. The experience demonstrated to me even more the clash between Eastern tradition and Western culture that is happening in Jordan right now. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix67wULz7OUBT320u_nuzRr3r4HgPN0VKqhtuSpbT3sTZyF1z3xtuDnuDnAizJrgyOv2dILD3gJ1OJyelaIpZtJi4a_OYMvoe3NlbIhGX_h_El7ThEoZmyiFGVx0iGkEVdqfu-5asVEC0/s1600/mosaic8e73a3ab47a69141f5412333de29ae86f4ef53b5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="202" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix67wULz7OUBT320u_nuzRr3r4HgPN0VKqhtuSpbT3sTZyF1z3xtuDnuDnAizJrgyOv2dILD3gJ1OJyelaIpZtJi4a_OYMvoe3NlbIhGX_h_El7ThEoZmyiFGVx0iGkEVdqfu-5asVEC0/s400/mosaic8e73a3ab47a69141f5412333de29ae86f4ef53b5.jpg" /></a></div><br />
However, the melding of East and West doesn’t have to be bad. I had an amazing time last night at a Jordanian wedding at the Grand Hyatt. I will take you step by step through the parts of the wedding so that you too can appreciate the mix of Jordanian tradition and Western influence that was present. <br />
<br />
First a little about the bride and groom and how I got invited to the wedding. The groom is my friend’s first cousin (on the maternal side) so I was fortunate enough to get a spot as a +1 at the expensive wedding. The marriage was arranged, but not in the way that you would expect. The families had met and the bride and groom had started talking. They continued getting to know each other on facebook and hung out more and more. They didn’t live with each other but they continued getting to know each other for a year before having the wedding, and of course the families had to give their consent. The signing of the marriage contracts and religious ceremonies took place at the engagement. The wedding, however, is when the marriage is consummated and thus made legitimate. I guess that is how modern arranged marriages happen.<br />
<br />
In the beginning of the wedding the groom’s family (and this includes extended family!) picks up the groom from his house and goes with him to take the bride from her house. At the bride’s house they meet the bride’s family and the two families celebrate coming together by dancing a lot. I missed this part though.<br />
<br />
On the way from the bride’s house to the hotel where the main wedding party would take place, my "date" for the wedding and his cousin picked me up. We arrived at <a href="http://amman.grand.hyatt.com/hyatt/hotels-amman-grand/index.jsp">the Grand Hyatt</a>, one of the best hotels in Amman. This hotel was one of the victims in <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2005/11/10/international/middleeast/10jordan.html">the horrible hotel bombings of 2005</a>, where a member of Al Qaeda bombed three luxury hotels in Amman, including a wedding, in the name of jihad. Therefore to get into the hotel we first had to go through security, which required me to put my bag through an x-ray, go through a metal detector, and be body-searched for weapons. The banquet hall was beautifully decorated, and ushers who were probably hired by a modeling agency like mine greeted us and took us to our table. I was sitting at the young cousins' table, so most of us were university students. Only the close relatives were present. The friends and distant relatives would arrive later. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwuXXa_YJS2TtWXXWtGD2IcSnb-EDiaaOhRD9pQ86sktcFcY3bU5tz7oJMSr6wy60NR90ulY7yi6JWOj7oJbekHRrGCZT_clzOE0xsFvNAoqsqc8ZwSoTNkyv2jjr9gH0FWufJqGKk1xQ/s1600/DSCF3536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwuXXa_YJS2TtWXXWtGD2IcSnb-EDiaaOhRD9pQ86sktcFcY3bU5tz7oJMSr6wy60NR90ulY7yi6JWOj7oJbekHRrGCZT_clzOE0xsFvNAoqsqc8ZwSoTNkyv2jjr9gH0FWufJqGKk1xQ/s400/DSCF3536.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhPupPnHZL2A_HENE_X1lFc_ExwFI-zsiZUvkUuHIj0bhWPmgqVhlCkIkZmLJ19h_oOF394yG5ic5UVBovKeKDo5UXm_6__KO_J-fKZLlUCVVDyvN3_6WhoDvX_zBZGB-meBCsk0OqI4g/s1600/DSCF3552.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhPupPnHZL2A_HENE_X1lFc_ExwFI-zsiZUvkUuHIj0bhWPmgqVhlCkIkZmLJ19h_oOF394yG5ic5UVBovKeKDo5UXm_6__KO_J-fKZLlUCVVDyvN3_6WhoDvX_zBZGB-meBCsk0OqI4g/s400/DSCF3552.JPG" /></a></div><br />
After being introduced to all the uncles and aunts and cousins and drinking mango juice (the biggest difference between a Jordanian wedding and an American wedding is the complete lack of alcohol in the former), it was time for the bride and groom to arrive. The groom’s family greets the bride since the groom pays for the whole wedding so it is therefore the groom’s family’s wedding. The groom’s family and close relatives gathered around the stairs leading down from the lobby, where the bride and groom were slowly descending. A traditional band was dancing <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dabke">dabke</a>, playing drums and singing well-known songs that everyone belted out as we clapped our hands and moved to the beat. The noise grew louder and louder as the couple came down the staircase and gradually walked across the floor into the banquet hall, surrounded by wildly dancing relatives. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMrxkc34YAyuC6JJsHlkcOqn7nMhny2kpYgevDge7wIikbf-81amAuzKYjMTfT4csLZJ1h8ocYsvwdI4VgpzpZAahYcMVDEMT0Xm1m-hUs1iu3ws8TaaqUxJZIDqwUaFw4bCr-4atTVo/s1600/DSCF3542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMrxkc34YAyuC6JJsHlkcOqn7nMhny2kpYgevDge7wIikbf-81amAuzKYjMTfT4csLZJ1h8ocYsvwdI4VgpzpZAahYcMVDEMT0Xm1m-hUs1iu3ws8TaaqUxJZIDqwUaFw4bCr-4atTVo/s400/DSCF3542.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Once inside the wedding hall we returned to our seats to watch the bride and groom have their first dance together, and for the bride to have her last dance with her father. The Western nature of this aspect of the wedding was emphasized by the use of American songs for both dances. However, when the music switched to Arabic songs it was time for everyone to get on the dance floor and dance with the newly-weds. I tried to move as best as I could in an Arab way, but alas maybe it is something you’re born with. Aunts, uncles, and cousins would come up and dance with me to show me some basic steps, but I fear that I moved my hips too much and my arms too little, probably thanks to my salsa skills. Anyway, what I lacked in skills I made up for in spirit.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiieS06CGo5Lrma877T5MtYwQGHah_GueDYtPGGwp81Xyr_ZNLcAv2J7yctOViTl5BJXmpvt0d99X4LfEZiJ34gKkJUuv4OWFvfvp1qyDhBoED1EVjAC7xmSqfDQUerOikO-55f6m3weSw/s1600/DSCF3546.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiieS06CGo5Lrma877T5MtYwQGHah_GueDYtPGGwp81Xyr_ZNLcAv2J7yctOViTl5BJXmpvt0d99X4LfEZiJ34gKkJUuv4OWFvfvp1qyDhBoED1EVjAC7xmSqfDQUerOikO-55f6m3weSw/s400/DSCF3546.JPG" /></a></div><br />
After dancing for a while the time was suddenly 10:30pm. Time flies at a Jordanian wedding! The enormous cake was rolled in on a wheeled cart, and the bride and groom cut it with a huge silver sword. The buffet opened up and I filled three plates with traditional treats such as <a href="http://mariellesmiddleeast.blogspot.com/2012/09/tabbouleh-tea-and-downtown-amman.html">tabbouleh</a>, <a href="http://www.food.com/recipe/baba-ganoush-the-best-in-the-world-67570">baba ganoush</a>, hummus, lamb with lebneh and rice, <a href="http://www.whats4eats.com/poultry/musakhan-recipe">musakhan</a>, and lots of warm <a href="http://www.food.com/recipe/kunefe-a-sweet-cheese-pastry-made-with-kadaifi-74792">kunefeh</a> for dessert. There were also continental salads, fresh vegetables and fruits, smoked salmon and shrimp, Italian pastas, Chinese stews with rice, kebabs, and on the dessert table ice cream, chocolate fondue, cheesecakes, and more. All of it was absolutely delicious!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw-qXr-M6QTRThYrWGas_OzRv8QsbVeoVFrUwkfnrdh7Il2RsDgM3Jj-vNQDmH0k2rFEG4BKXpDP9KtLcUJ1Kf96zW2H5FTNMjer8cWqjFqYgdkBpxqJyHzO4NdAFRD14FgEWYdPuL_qc/s1600/DSCF3553.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw-qXr-M6QTRThYrWGas_OzRv8QsbVeoVFrUwkfnrdh7Il2RsDgM3Jj-vNQDmH0k2rFEG4BKXpDP9KtLcUJ1Kf96zW2H5FTNMjer8cWqjFqYgdkBpxqJyHzO4NdAFRD14FgEWYdPuL_qc/s400/DSCF3553.JPG" /></a></div><br />
While everyone was eating, the bride and groom would go from table to table, personally greeting each person with kisses on the cheek and taking photos. After dinner it was time for – you guessed it – more dancing! A tabla player bounced into the crowd on the dance floor and the bride and groom took turns to hit the huge drum. I also got to try, and although my first tries were a bit weak I think I got it in the end. After a while a whole group of traditional dancers came in to give a show, dancing dabke in a circle around the exultant bride and her family. <br />
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After impressing some of the relatives with my limited Arabic skills (I spoke for over 20 seconds in Arabic! They thought this was remarkable, coming from a Swede.) it was time to return to the dance floor. After some popular Arabic songs the music switched to American/International music, starting with the already classic <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9bZkp7q19f0">Gangnam style</a>. I thought the dance floor would break in the chorus! Even the bride and groom danced gangnam style. After some more international hits where most of the young people broke it down on the dance floor, the music returned to Arabic hits and some of the older relatives returned to the dance floor. I actually recognized some of the Arabic songs! By now it was around midnight and most of the friends and distant relatives had gone home so it was only the close relatives on the dance floor. Every song was just as good as the next one which made it impossible to leave the dance floor, and even though my stilettos were killing my knees, I couldn’t stop dancing or laughing. Jordanians know how to party! There was even a 10-month old baby on the dance floor. <br />
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Eventually I took a rest and the music started winding down, cueing the time for the relatives to give the bride and groom envelopes with money and to take family pictures. I was included in the family picture of my date. By now the time was 1:30am and my host family was anxious for me to go home so they could lock the door and go to sleep. I was lucky they even let me stay out so late! I got back at 2am, with aching feet but a happy heart. I think I would rather have a Jordanian wedding than an American one when the time comes…<br />
</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2239254643079649180.post-89434260196583886162012-11-04T09:38:00.001-08:002012-11-05T00:45:08.461-08:00Eid Break Part 2: القدس القديمة/Old Jerusalem<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i>The next installment, once again by our guest blogger, Amy Brown</i>:<br />
My second day in Amman we rose early—catching the sunrise—for the bus that would take us to the border crossing to Israel at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allenby_Bridge">the Allenby Bridge</a> (in Hebrew, Gesher Alenbi, also known as the King Hussein Bridge, in Arabic: جسر الملك حسين, Jisr al-Malek Hussein), the bridge that crosses the Jordan River and connects the West Bank with Jordan. Other than through the West Bank, the bridge is currently the sole designated exit/entry point for Palestinians living in the West Bank to travel in and out of the West Bank. On this day, these Palestinians were laden with bulging suitcases and bags, no doubt full of special-occasion clothes and gifts for the Eid holiday to bring to their relatives on the West Bank. We were told the border crossing could take anywhere from four to seven hours—a lot of waiting in various lines, to pay entry and exit fees and have passports checked and stamped—so we were glad that it took only three hours. Entering into Israel, the young woman checking my passport asked if I was going to Ramallah or had any family on the West Bank (No, and no. The first question, I was told later by an Israeli, intended to weed out activists who might be going to Ramallah to “stir up trouble.”). Then she wanted to know my father’s first name before my passport was stamped and I was free to go.<br />
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Arriving by a mini bus to <a href="http://www.3disrael.com/jerusalem/damascus_gate.cfm">the Damascus Gate</a>, we headed straight for the colors and scents and hustle and bustle of the outdoor market in<a href="http://jerusalem.cityseekr.com/venue/262612-muslim-quarter-the"> the Muslim Quarter</a>. The tables were brimming with chocolates in gold and silver foil, fruits and vegetables, scarves and souvenirs, the sellers trying to outshout each other to catch the shoppers’ attention and here Arab Muslims, Jews, Christians and tourists mingled as they shopped and bargained for the best price. We stopped for <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MGnZP1rvLsI">fresh-squeezed pomegranate juice</a> before finding ourselves in front of <a href="http://www.austrianhospice.com/experience-jerusalem.htm">the Austrian Hospice</a>, an oasis of peace and relaxation after the cacophony of the market. We headed up to the roof for amazing views over the old city but didn’t linger for the famed pastries at the café (their hostel apparently offer <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/Hotel_Review-g293983-d320662-Reviews-Austrian_Hospice-Jerusalem.html">some of the best cheap beds in Jerusalem</a>).<br />
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We got in touch with our host in Jerusalem—the lovely Adi who had responded so warmly to our<a href="http://www.couchsurfing.org"> couch surfing</a> request—and she recommended that we make our way by light rail and bus to her apartment in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Templers_(religious_believers">the German Colony</a>, a neighborhood in Jerusalem established in the 19th century by members of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Templers_(religious_believers)">the German Temple Society</a>. Today it’s known as the Moshava and is an upscale neighborhood bisected by Emek Refaim Street, an avenue lined with trendy shops, restaurants and cafes. As we rode the bus, very young Israeli soldiers in the <a href="http://www.mahal-idf-volunteers.org/information/background/content.htm">Israeli Defense Force</a> boarded in uniform, with their guns, and seeing so many young soldiers around the city carrying weapons takes some getting used to. Israel is unique in the world in that military service is compulsory for both females and males. It is the only country in the world that maintains obligatory military service for women. This continues the tradition of female fighters during Israel's War of Independence. Males serve for three years and females for just less than two years. Israel also has one of the highest recruitment rates in the world - some 80% of those who receive summons serve. Those who are exempt from service include most minority groups, those who are not physically or psychologically fit, married women or women with children, religious males who are studying in an accredited Jewish Law institution and religious females who choose to pursue 'national service' - community work.<br />
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As we rode the bus, I was also struck by the contrast of old and modern Jerusalem—in the old quarters, steeped in history, in religion and tradition, and in the rest of the city, as modern and efficient and as full of the amenities one would enjoy in any affluent European city. Arriving to Adi’s apartment, she and her dog greeted us, showed us our couch for the night, told us to make ourselves at home, handed us a key and went back to her classes at the university while we gratefully left our bags behind to explore the old city further. *Marielle writing now* Before we did so, however, we grabbed lunch at the little vegan gem called <a href="http://www.2eat.co.il/villagegreen%2Dhamoshava/">the Village Green</a>, right off of Emek Refaim Street, recommended by our couchsurfing host. Over fresh juice combinations such as pomegranate, apple, and pear, and gorgeous salads, we read the Jerusalem Post and watched the diverse Israelis of all ages that were also dining in the sunny verdant outside area of this popular local eatery. I found this quote in an <a href="http://www.jpost.com/Opinion/Op-EdContributors/Article.aspx?id=289018">op-ed piece</a>, which I recorded as it seemed relevant at the time:<br />
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<i><blockquote>Ideological and personal conflicts compete with the desire for unity; fission with fusion. Behind all these attempts at unity lies a serious question: Is the knitted yarmulke a political common denominator? Is a head covering more relevant or powerful than the social and political ideas in the head wearing it?</blockquote></i><br />
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After lunch we strolled down Emek Refaim Street until we came to a beautiful park sprinkled with various monuments honoring Jewish values and history. Finally we reached the quaint homes and cascading gardens of <a href="http://www.jerusalem-art.org/artist-colony">the Artists' colony</a> leading to the Old City. As beautiful as this colony is, it has a sad story, as our host explained. From the 1948 war when Jerusalem was split between Israel and Jordan until the Six-Day War when Israel reclaimed East Jerusalem from Jordan, this part of the city was the no-mans-land between the old city and new city. Nowadays wealthy Israelis buy the sought-after properties and world-renowned artists show off their crafts in the renovated Islamic stables but there isn't the same sense of life in the colony as we saw in other parts of the city. However we only needed to step within the gates of the Old City to find the hustle and bustle we experienced upon our arrival.*Marielle out, back to Amy*<br />
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A visit to Jerusalem is not complete without seeing <a href="http://mosaic.lk.net/g-wall.html">the Western Wall of the Temple Mount</a>. The area in front of the Wall is divided for males and female sections, and I was struck by how little space the women had compared to the men—and there were far more women at the Wall than men, at least on this day. It was a powerful experience to put my hands on the Wall; it pulsated beneath my hands, like a beating heart, warm and alive. You could feel the fervor of all those prayers captured in the stone, as women—Jews and Christians alike—closed their eyes and placed their foreheads against the stone and prayed, silently or softly, sometimes with their babies in their arms. You must never have your back to the Wall, so we walked backwards once we were ready to leave. <br />
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We went to the <a href="http://www.archpark.org.il">Jerusalem Archaeological Park</a> to find out more about the history of the Temple Mount but the film they showed was so poorly made it was funny and the audio practically put us to sleep, so don’t bother renting it. Much better to just do your own exploring and imagine how life must have been during the many centuries—from the Temple Period to the Roman to the Byzantine to the Islamic Periods—when so many people occupied this holy place. There are great views all around Jerusalem by clambering up the excavations and walking the remaining walls. <br />
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We ended our day in Old Jerusalem by taking a long walk around the Old City (hoping to see <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Al-Aqsa_Mosque">the Al-Asqa Mosque</a>, the holiest site in Islam, but not able to enter) and instead outside the entrance to the Mosque, a boy on a bicycle motioned us to follow him and lead us to a church, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Anne's_Church,_Jerusalem">the Church of St Anne</a>, an excellent example of Romanesque architecture, very plain and unadorned. In the south aisle is a flight of steps leading down to the crypt, in a grotto believed by the Crusaders to be Mary's birthplace. An altar dedicated to Mary is located there. As we entered 15 minutes before closing, we had the church all to ourselves (aside from the cats milling about outside) and could admire the pure lines of the Roman arches and other architectural features. Weary by now from all our walking, we headed back to Adi’s apartment and to an evening with her friends, which Marielle will describe in the next installment: Modern Jerusalem!<br />
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</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06340779216082240255noreply@blogger.com0