WanderingWhy…

What can I truly say about Egypt?  The history speaks for itself.  Maybe what I can share with you instead are some interesting observations/opinions about visiting the great sites of Egypt.

1. The touts are gonna get you.  Every corner, every store.  You cannot avoid this.  However, if I can offer a bit of advice, try speaking another language.  It stops them in their tracks.  My rudimentary Spanish has been a lifesaver.

2. Do you know what baksheesh is?  You will learn in your first five minutes in Egypt.  It is a tip, and expected for most everything, from the temple guard who allows you to take your camera in, even if cameras are permitted, to the tout who tells you where the entrance is that you were walking in to anyway.

3. Climbing into a tomb is not as cool as it sounds.  We visited one that smelled like ammonia.  Another was amazing, but hot.  The guard will give you a piece of cardboard to fan yourself with-for baksheesh.

4. There is a Pizza Hut in front of the pyramids.  All photos are taken in the other direction, or far enough away that you cannot see it or the city, but its there, with all its gooey cheesy goodness.

5. There is a two tier price system in Egypt, not just for the sites, but for food.  Another piece of advice-learn the numbers in Arabic so you can point out what the price should be (you probably won’t get it, but have some fun trying).

6. Shwarmas…falafel…..kushary……eat eat eat!  WS is.

7. Sheesha is good.  Try it with some tea and good conversation.  The apple is really good.

8. Egyptians love Obama.

9. You will be offered a camel ride, a horse ride, or a donkey ride no less than 2000 times while visiting any site in Egypt.  And please, if you forgot to buy postcard, do not fear.  They will be offered to you 1000 times.

10. The carvings, paintings, and relics will AMAZE you.  There is no way to describe what I have seen here.  I could try to explain, but then you would owe me some baksheesh.

To see photos of Egypt (photo page still not working), click here.

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I have realized after reading a few of my old entries that I sound a bit like a travel agent.  Come to Hong Kong, it’s a great city!  Come to Bali, the people here are amazing!  Come to Iguazzu Falls, and see this wonder for yourself!

In a way, this is how I feel… maybe not a travel agent, but more a connection that people can travel through.  I want readers to realize if we can do it, so can they.

I also want people not to be afraid to travel.  There are wonderful places with dark pasts.  Countless people have said, “are you sure you want to go to Bali/Thailand/Nicaragua/insert country here with a scarred reputation?  Isn’t it dangerous there?”

Think about it, Bali had bombings in 2002 and 2005, and their tourism is in the toilet right now because of the bombers’ execution and subsequent warning from the Aussie government (they lost 88 Aussies).  London and Spain have had bombings too, but no one asks if we are sure we want to go there.  Why is that?  There are no US government warnings for the UK, Spain, OR Indonesia.  I am hoping to dispel some of the fear the media can create when we see sound bites on the news.

Now obviously I am not advocating travel in areas that the US Government has warnings on so if you want to go to Somalia, go ahead, I will opt out.  But I hope our blog makes you want to travel someplace that makes you a bit uncomfortable. I am not talking safety uncomfortable, you should never do that.  I am talking about language, distance, food, places that are unlike anywhere you have been.  I hope through this blog places that were once unfamiliar to you now seem more familiar.

When I was a kid we did not travel.  We had no money to do much of anything, let alone take a vacation.  When my parents divorced, my father moved to Florida and we started visiting twice a year.  I remember asking a teacher if there was a time difference in Florida before we went for the first time, and being disappointed there was none.  I remember using the American Airlines automated flight schedule on the phone, putting together exotic destinations, like San Diego, with connections in places I thought I would never see, like Santa Fe, and writing them down in a notebook.  I remember taking my first spring break to Florida when I was in Grad School, thinking a road trip must be the greatest thing on earth.  I got in the car in Pennsylvania, and ended up somewhere totally different.

I still never really road tripped the US until my last year in Grad School, when I did an internship in Florida (safe) and California (exotic).  I was hooked.  I could be somewhere else, even if only temporary, and live life differently.  I loved it.  But I missed out on 6 weeks in Europe with Grad School friends because no one told me that overseas travel did not have to be expensive, that I could do it.  I thought it better to start working right away and although I put a dent in that student loan, I regret now that I did not go.  I did not know then overseas does not have to equal expensive.  Ah, and the dollar was so much stronger then, too.

My first real overseas trip was to Greece (not counting Mexico) with WS, my friend Caterina and her husband Michael.  I had the worst jet lag imaginable. I was so tired I was crying, but her grandfather taught me how to clean a fish.  Her family cooked us Greek food.  Her cousins walked with us all over town.  The only Greek I spoke was “thank you, yes, and no”.  Life was different, the people were kind even if we could not understand each other, and I loved it.

Travel is not always full of ups.  If you are a regular reader, you know there are downs, too.  You get sick, the unexpected happens, the toilets are unfamiliar, the language is different, and you can be uncomfortable.  But that is what it is all about.  The learning, the growing, the connection with someone from another country, realizing that we all want pretty much the same things out of life, even if we speak differently and eat differently (I apologize again for being left handed) and have different toilets.

I want you to travel.   I know the economy is in the toilet back home (I keep mentioning toilets in this post, why is that?), but I want you to realize that the same cost for a 7 day cruise for you and your family can equal a whole month in Thailand or Indonesia. A vacation is not the same as travel.

WS and I did not win the lottery or inherit a fortune to do this trip, we saved our money as travel was a priority for us.  If something is a priority to you, you make it happen, like a new TV you want or your child’s tuition that needs to be paid.  You find a way to make it happen.  Travel can happen, whether it is a 2 week vacation, or an around the world dream come true, it CAN happen if you want it.  Whether you are a family of four, a single person with a nomadic soul , or a thirty-something couple with a house, a car and a cat back home , it can be done.

And so I write.  Not so that I get more readers, or that someone buys something off of our Amazon links (I won’t mind if you do!), or that you stumble this article and I become internet famous.  I write because I love it out here, and I hope that I make you curious enough to want to see if you love it out here, too.

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Welcome to Cairo!  I hope  The Bangles gave you the hint you needed.  That was much too easy.

We will also be taking a side trip to Dubai from Egypt.  Huh?  No girl bands for that one, so just had to tell ya.

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Can this girl band from the 80s give you the crucial hint as to where we will go next?

Post your guesses under the “comments” section of this website. See you there!

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Before WS and I left on this trip, we made a list of our “must sees”.  On both of our lists was Petra.  Petra was our main reason for coming to Jordan.  Like most people, I first learned of Petra compliments of Indiana Jones.  I heard a bit more about it when it was named one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

We were lucky enough to continue our journey after the Dead Sea with Alisa and Matt, and met up with another really nice Canadian couple, Mike and Jordana, to explore Petra.

I honestly never thought of Petra beyond the Treasury, which is the building featured in the Indiana Jones film. But Petra is a huge complex, taking two days to really explore it.  It is a 30 minute walk just to get from the entrance to the Treasury.

Much to everyone’s dismay I had to sing the Indiana Jones theme song as we rounded the bend and finally got our first glimpse of the Treasury.  Do you know how hard it is to get that song out of your head?

The party of six spent two full days and one night climbing, gazing, hiking, and being awestruck by this magnificent place.  And rather than bore you with commentary that cannot capture the beauty or size of Petra, let me just share some photos instead.  And know the photos do not do it justice either.  Enjoy!

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 I admit to being geographically challenged.  When we started this trip, I was even worse.   When we arrived in Jordan, I had no idea we were so close to the Dead Sea.  I saw Dead Sea products in our hotel, but did not put two and two together until we spoke to some other travelers.  I am a little slow, but once I caught on, I was excited about the prospect of swimming in it.

We took a taxi with two fellow travelers, Alisa and Matt, and went to visit the Dead Sea.  On the way we stopped at Mt.Nebo, where Moses died and proclaimed to see the Promised Land (not on the same day).  I was astounded that we could see Israel from there.  I felt like Sarah Palin, getting my foreign policy experience (I can see Russia from my house!).

 We continued our journey to 400 meters below sea level.  The Dead Sea was much larger than I had anticipated and very, very clear.  There was salt all around the edges of the water, and salt rocks on the shore.

Sean got in first, and after some convincing that the water was not too cold, I got in, too.  Once in, we decided to test whether you float in the Dead Sea.  We are pleased to tell you that yes, you do float!  You bob, kind of like a cork.  Unless you were wearing concrete shoes compliments of the mob, it is not possible to drown here.  Not that you would want to put your head under anyway, with the high salt content.  Ouch! 

 We followed our dip in the sea with a mud treatment, straight from the banks of the Dead Sea.  A local offered us a plastic supermarket bag for $5 Jordanian dollars to take some home.  Uh, no thanks, that’s almost $7USD, and unless you have Ben and Jerry’s in that bag too, I will pass.

 Our taxi driver then took us to a hot spring to wash off the salt.  Alisa and I decided it was a great spa day, even if it was the lowest point of our trip.

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I love India.  This country is definitely not for everyone.  India will test your patience, perspective, and sometimes your sanity.  There is little middle ground here and most travelers seem to love or hate travel in this country.

India is dirty, noisy and chaotic, but friendly, hospitable and fascinating.  I read a book called “The Age of Kali” recommended to me by a local in Delhi while wandering the country.  It mentions how today you can still see some of the Hindu festivals that have been going on for the last 5,000 years in much the same way.

To think you can still see traditions as witnessed by the ancient Greeks whose culture of that time can now only be found in museums and history books…  I find this hard to get my head around.  As much as I love my own country we are just a blip on the time-line in comparison.

WD got sick and could not see past the filth.

“Look at ____ .” I would point out.

“This place is filthy” she would say.

There are layers and layers of history and culture.  Humanity organized and divided by region, language, caste, religion, income, race and on and on.  There are beautiful palaces and interesting alleys to wander down.

“Check out buildings down this street” I would offer.

“It’s dirty. ‘

“Try to keep your view above ankle level.” I suggested.

It wasn’t all bad for WD though and of course I’m teasing her here.  It would be difficult for anyone not to be blown away by the Taj Mahal,

or to enjoy the beautiful skyline of Udaipur at night.

Or be surprised at the beauty of the Ganges river in the mountains of Rishikesh (It’s not dirty!)

People make a place.  Poverty seems to be something feared back home.  I’m not talking about becoming poor yourself but fearful of people who are.  I’ve learned while traveling the less people have the more they want to share.  I had endless offers of chai (tea) and conversation with no strings attached.  Sometimes people who spoke no English still wanted to drink chai with me.  People wanted to take photos with me no matter how much I tried to joke and explain I’m not famous.  The kindness and hospitality are really unlike anywhere else I have been.

The traffic and riding in it is better than any theme park ride you will ever try.  There are bicycles, cyclos, motorbikes, motorcycles, rickshaws, buses, cows, dogs, goats, water buffalo-about the only thing I did not see in the street was a zebra or a sane driver.  Here is a small sample of a short rickshaw ride to the train station near the Taj Mahal.  Ten points to you if you hear the crash:

India is kind, wonderful, fantastic, frustrating, endlessly curious, ancient, and yes-dirty.  But don’t take advice from someone who eats with her left hand, see it for yourself.

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Welcome to Jordan!  Part of Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade was filmed here.

No one got the clue, so it was either a really good one or no one is reading our blog anymore.

Photos are still not working, so check out the link instead.  Maybe WS will fix it sometime this century.

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As we bid farewell to India, we leave you with this hint as to where we are going next:

This location made this guy more famous. Or did this guy make this location more famous?

Post your guesses on the “comments” section of this website, and we will see you in….????

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Rishikesh! The small town in Northern India made famous by The Beatles. Long ago The Beatles spent some time here at an ashram relaxing and left with most of the famous White Album written.

That same ashram closed in 1997 and the yogi died last year but it seems to make the place seem all the more interesting as it is slowly swallowed by the jungle and taken over by monkeys.

Over 40 years later, people still wander into Rishikesh in search of personal spiritual experience.  I consider myself too much of a realist (skeptic, cynic, obnoxious asshole, whathaveyou) to join in the search in a place that has now become a commercialized new-age Disneyland.

There are many good teachers here but many more self proclaimed gurus looking to cash in.   Take this advertisement for example:

Maybe he’s legit but the comedian in me cannot look at that billboard and take it seriously.

So, yoga was the main reason for coming to India.  Yoga is really WD’s gig and since I had my fun training Brazilian Jiu Jitsu in the homeland of Brazil now it was her turn.

I did do some yoga myself back in Bangkok at a very good studio called Yoga Elements. After a year of sitting on buses and eating poorly I decided to do something positive with my downtime and get back some reasonable level of fitness while WD was back in the States.  The instructor there, Shiang, put me through pain and suffering on par with any jiu jitsu training and after a month I found I really enjoy yoga.

So, I decided to join WD in her hunt for good yoga in Rishikesh. There are several very different yoga styles and in this town the choices are really overwhelming.  Ashtanga, Hatha, Iyengar,…  A regular yoga buffet.  Unfortunately all classes are held at the same time so you can only check out two places a day.

Eventually we found a few places to practice in.  One was WD’s normal practice of Ashtanga but she told me it was too rough and advanced for me.  So nice of her to look out for her wuss husband not to get hurt in the vicious art of yoga.  So, I didn’t risk losing a limb in that class and she went alone.

The other two classes were held in a studio in our hotel.  I have no idea what style the night class was but I’ll venture a guess it was Hatha (should you care about the details).  It wasn’t ass whooping like in Bangkok but I enjoyed the class.  The instructor did his best to communicate with the students and teach well.  I eventually dubbed him “The Swami” since he had fondness for chanting and a calm demeanor.  He looked the part too with a long beard and hair that was normally under a turban when he wasn’t teaching.

Swami was the complete opposite of our morning instructor whose class we attended exactly two times too many.

The morning class was Iyengar style.  We had heard about this type of yoga from another traveler who was an instructor back in Canada.  The class uses props and looks to perfect poses and build strength by holding them for longer than most other styles.  There was a beautiful Iyengar studio right on the Ganges River but sadly it was booked solid for the next three weeks so that was not an option.

But Iyengar was also offered right in our hotel in the morning so we decided to give it a go.  We went to the first class and it was okay but seemed a bit all over the place.  Thinking it over and talking about it afterward we decided the style was probably okay but the teacher not so.

Stupidly we went back the next morning and got the full onslaught of horrible insults and instruction.  To say the teacher was psychotic would be a complement.  The class instruction went something like this:

“LOOK, LOOK, LOOK, LOOK, LOOK, LOOK!”

“YOU SEE? YOU SEE THE THINGS I AM SHOWING YOU?!”

Not really, I thought.  Some details would be nice.

“NO ONE KNOWS THIS! NO ONE!”

Well that includes your whole class.

“ROLL THE THIGH” he repeated about six times.  Actually, he repeated everything he said six times and his vocabulary was extremely limited.  I’m grasping for the vocabulary in describing exactly what he was like but if you can imagine a cross between Bill O’Rielly and Richard Simmons you’ll get the idea.

He was about 140 lbs. and loved to pose loud rhetorical questions-except when you were supposed to know he wanted an answer.  He “taught” class in a pair of 1970′s short running shorts and asked the class to examine his buttocks for two hours.

“WATCH, WATCH, WATCH, WATCH, WATCH, WATCH.  YOU SEE?!”

No buddy, no one does.

“LOOK MY BUTTOCK”

Uh oh.

“LOOK, ROLL THE THIGH, SPREAD THE BUTTOCKS.”

Did he just say what I think he said?  This thought was confirmed as he pulled up his short shorts to reveal the bottom of his left cheek.  Oh no.

“LOOK, LOOK, LOOK, LOOK, LOOK, LOOK! YOU SEE? YOU SEE? YOU SEE?”

I don’t want to look.  See what?!?! What are we looking for? Your tonsils!?!

“YOU SEE?!” This time he expected an answer from the class.

“YOU ARE ALL SO SLOW! YOU COME TO GET YOUR ONE MONTH CERTIFICATE AND DON’T EVEN KNOW THE NAMES OF THE POSES!”

One month? Damn.  Some of these poor students have been subjected to this every morning for the last month?  They have traveled from Japan, Europe, North and South America for this? It’s the students fault they don’t know the name of the poses with this clown as the instructor? Terrible. I can’t believe I got out of bed for this crap.

Thankfully I never learned what he was “teaching” and never saw the gateway to his tonsils.  More thankfully, there are good teachers out there.  Thank you, Shiang!  Thank you, Swami!

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