DAY THREE
If I had the ability to add in sound clips right now I would (stupid 56k!), since Michael’s narration on our camera’s video clips is pretty priceless (and so are his imitations of the songs that our tape deck/radio combo in the van picked up). After the fact I heard his comments, including, “…interesting…cultural…” and singing “Hezbollah…we’re finding Jesus’ house, it’s going to be a good time!”
Day three (Sunday, 20.9.09) found us waking up fairly early once again and packing to stay overnight in Petra (we ended up hostelling it…more on that later). I ran downstairs to Hezbollah to grab my belt so my shorts wouldn’t fall down all day and nearly got trampled by a very grouchy German man and his wife storming out of the elevator; apparently someone isn’t a morning person and needed his Wheaties! Michael gave himself a little whiplash by walking straight into the sliding glass doors at the hotel that were crystal-clear with slow reaction-opening speeds – ouch! We drove straight to Petra, but it’s still about a three hour drive. My bladder continued raging against me and I texted my team leader for her antibiotic/pharmacy advice (her husband’s a doctor – thanks, MS!); we managed to do a three-for-one special as we arrived just outside the city: I found a pharmacist that sold me antibiotics out the wazoo (thanks, Hadi!), the gang bumped into N and B (the other American teachers – one of whom attended ASK for a year of high school and now is back to teach!), and the other couples did hostel recon as I contended with the pharmacy. We ended up staying at the Valentine Inn for 8JD per couple (another good Lonely Planet recommendation!); three to a room, girls and boys. As we arrived in the early afternoon, the hostel stayed peacefully quiet and we relaxed on the patio, eating the sandwich made that morning from the Amman hotel’s breakfast buffet. The stunning view and kind staff welcomed us with sweet tea and candied almonds, in part as a celebration of Eid. The temperature had dropped noticeably and we all took a few moments to mellow out while waiting for N and B to join us for the quick drive over to the entrance for Petra.
Petra is stunning, hands down (or as B would say: Petra rocks!). In some small way, though, I think Michael and I were a little underwhelmed simply because the landscape looks undeniably like Arizona, minus the amazing stone buildings sculpted from the richly-colored rock (there were many, many times on this trip when we compared the landscape to various areas of Arizona, and in this case, especially Sedona/Flagstaff). There’s also the fact that this felt like the most touristy of places and we definitely ran into tourists and tour groups left and right. Since we arrived mid-afternoon, we had a group battle-out to determine if we would be buying a one or two-day pass; we ended up all buying two-day passes, and while Michael and I didn’t do as much hiking and exploring the second day because his Keen-encased cracked feet were killing him, skipping the masses of tourists by arriving at 6:30 the next morning proved very pleasant.
The Nabataeans created Petra roughly 2200 years ago, but the area then became annexed to the Romans around 100 AD, and abandoned as the west knew it after the 14th century. True to the form of saying Columbus “discovered” America, a Swiss man gets the credit for Petra’s rediscovery in 1812. For anyone who’s seen Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (and who hasn’t?), the Treasury (or Al-Khazneh) is the impressive outside displayed in the latter part of the movie; I thought we had downloaded the entire trilogy before we left, but we only have the not-so-great latest installment. We’ll be doing some additional downloading when our real internet is up and running in another week and a half.
To reach Petra proper (which I personally consider to be when you get the awe-striking, vertical-slice view of the Treasury), you walk down two long pathways. One takes you to the outside of the Siq, and from there you walk through the Siq, a roughly 1200 meter-long gorge of rock that twists and turns. When we walked through it the first day, we slowly ambled, taking pictures and carefully avoiding the donkey, horse, and camel dung. (We also plastered ourselves against the rock walls more than once as horse carts carrying people raced through; no one looked very happy in those things as they bumped and grinded along the path.) Michael and I managed to have quite a bit of energy that first day and bounced around for over three hours exploring the various structures that comprise Petra. My favorite, and the one at which we spent the most time, was the Urn Tomb, which allowed an impressive view of much of Petra from one vantage point. We intended to check out the other noted Petra structure, the Ad-Deir (or Monastery), at the end of the first or the beginning of the second day. However, we got ourselves a little lost on the first day (in a fun way); we wandered down a stone wash and listened to a man beautifully playing a flute who beckoned us toward him when he heard our voices – we (being paranoid Americans) decided to head back in the opposite direction since we were definitely off the beaten path, but not before I used the bathroom in the bushes. I had asked a group of men (including a police officer!) where I could use a bathroom after finding three closed ones – even at two of the restaurants – and was told to “use a cave, nature’s way.” Sure, why not, I’ve been camping in the desert enough, I was only trying to be respectful…or not! The Monastery, though, is the furthest Petra structure; on the second day (when Michael’s feet were killing him and his New Balance were sitting in the hotel room in Amman), we skipped it and sat perched high above the valley by the Urn Tomb, watching the activity in the valley below and munching on our hostel-prepared breakfast/lunch of pita, cucumber, cookies, and other tasty treats.
After all of our exploring the first day, I took a shower at the hostel that ranks as one of my best showers in the last year – I had so much dust encasing my body! Michael and I shared another Amstel Light (apparently a popular beer to serve in Jordan), and admired the tiny sliver of crescent moon still visible in the velvet, darkening sky. We also shared a huge buffet at the hostel with our group; I heaped food on my plate and for once (due in part to the communal style of the buffet and eating at the hostel) vowed and nearly did finish everything on my plate…one garlic-infused side was a little too much for even me. With the pace we had been keeping, every day felt like two, but when we finished eating, we decided to make one last stop-off at Cave Bar (supposedly the oldest bar ever?!) before returning our add-on group members to their hotel.
Cave Bar, while expensive and price-gouging in the way you expect a bar near Petra to be, provided a nice respite. We drank, smoked shisha, relaxed, and had the staff turn down the ear-splitting music (and then decided it was time to leave as the bar filled up and the music turned up once again). We literally sat in a small cave on little stools, with low light offered by a few candles and had some good conversation as we slowed the pace down. We discovered that N also plays guitar (and his father has quite the collection), so he and Michael geeked out (in a good way!) with some music chat. Following our Cave Bar jaunt, we dropped off the boys and then used our gigantic metal hostel key (room 207!) that could double as a weapon to open the door and crash into bed. Without Michael nearby, I didn’t sleep as well, and a combination of roosters, an absurdly loud call to prayer, and the alarm woke me up at 5:30.
DAY FOUR
After three days of a pretty hectic pace, this proved the day (Monday, 21.9.09) I started to lose steam, but also one of our most varied days. We started the morning in Petra once again, and ignored the million different offers for an animal ride in to see the monuments. Michael and I moved much more slowly and enjoyed a lazy pace and the quiet of the morning. We arrived at the parking area around 6:30 and were at the Treasury by 7:00. This time we were actually able to take pictures of Petra without others’ heads bobbing in and out of our photos. We tasted the yogurt included in our hostel-prepped lunch bag, and decided its sour and sugar-less taste too much for us; an orange tabby and her three kittens enjoyed it much more than we would have. (There were animals all over Petra in different levels of health; the cat and kittens from that morning actually appeared quite healthy. The day before, though, we had seen a sad little kitten, and an exhausted dog that obviously had a number of puppies feeding on her judging from her chest. Michael gave both water with the help of our faux-Camel Bak and a couple metal ash trays.)
After realizing that tromping around at the same pace as the day before wouldn’t happen, we made our way to the Urn Tomb as I previously mentioned and watched the light spread, the animals feed, and those who make a living at Petra ride into work on donkeys to sell the tourist-trap wears. The gentleman sitting across from us tied his donkey several hundred feet away and we crossed a small (questionably sound) foot bridge to sit near the donkey. As we arrived, about a dozen goats came down the mountain to pester the donkey and steal his food. About 10 minutes later, a man (maybe the goats’ herder?) appeared from above and scared away the goats by making a snake-like guttural hissing sound. It worked; I’ll remember that when it’s Abby vs. the goat.
As we approached being among the ruins for over two hours, Michael texted the rest of our gang and we started back for the van since we had decided previously to make the trek down to Aqaba at the southern part of Jordan and on the Gulf of Aqaba (leading into the Red Sea) for some water fun. That stretch of the trip was estimated at around an hour, but with back roads, animal crossings (the signs on the side of the road weren’t lying – we saw camels, goats, and sheep in the road, just never in the road in front of us), and general misdirection, it took a couple hours. We left to Aqaba as a group of eight, with N and B hitching a ride down to Aqaba and back to Amman with us.
Arriving in Aqaba, we decided to shoot for snorkeling as a group rather than splitting up, and followed the highway through the very congested city center down the coast (and we picked up a “real” radio station – I heard Depeche Mode!). The views proved stunning as we bypassed the crowded city and looked out to the bright azure water, dotted near the city with cruise and large cargo ships. We passed the huge container ports, and about 5km north of Saudi Arabia (eek!), we made a u-turn and pulled into a more easily accessible beach.
Out of sheer luck, SC spotted a diving company van and Michael and I ran up to a very kind gentleman, Abdullah, who agreed to have us follow him just up the road to his dive center, the Red Sea Dive Club. We all got outfitted quickly, were able to change clothes in their very nice bathrooms, and chatted with Abdullah (we’ve decided we quite like the Jordanians; very friendly and open people). Turns out the dive club has been around 20 years and only recently relocated from the city center to the current location. We met Abdullah, his father, his brother, and heard some great stories involving the U.S. Navy diving with their group. We had all our gear and were in the water by 3:00. My exhaustion caught up to me quickly, especially as my mask leaked and I treaded water for quite a while getting it situated; however, Aqaba is known for its snorkeling and diving for very good reason.
We had a hard time getting out at first due to low tide and the situation of the coral reefs so close to shore. Once we found an opening, we were floating above beautiful coral and shockingly bright fish, anemones, urchins, and other sea creatures. The water temperature was a warm 75/80 degrees Fahrenheit, but as we moved from shallow to deeper water, there were pockets of quite cool water and I found it difficult to stay warm as goose bumps popped up all over my arms and legs. I marveled at the way the light played on the texture of the coral, listened to myself breathe in the quiet water, and tried to keep up with Michael’s quick pace! I stayed in the water about 45 minutes and then headed in, while Michael remained in the water over twice as long, snapping tons of gorgeous photos and really putting our underwater camera to use. Once on shore, I certainly felt the uncomfortable gaze of being a white Western woman in my bikini on a public beach and went up to the dive center’s gazebo-like area to grab my shirt and bottle of water; I then returned to the shore where N and B sat. N had cut himself a little on coral and we sat and chatted as everyone else slowly finished their snorkeling. Michael (of course!) was the last to leave the water and arrived on shore with some major gashes from the coral – thank goodness he heals quickly! We gathered our group and headed back to the dive club to rinse off and change clothes for the long journey back to Amman. We thanked Abdullah profusely, with comments to return to learn to dive (I’d LOVE to do that, especially with their club), and stopped off at Safeway (yes, there’s even a Safeway in Aqaba, Jordan) for road-trip snacks.
This section of van driving probably caused Michael the most consternation since it lasted roughly four hours, in the dark, on poorly lit and paved roads; he pushed Hezbollah to her limits at nearly 140km. Apparently people like to leave their high beams on regardless of those around them on both sides of the highway, and I stayed awake to keep Michael at least some company as the other six dozed in and out of sleep. Police also don’t seem to have the same job as those in the U.S. because they couldn’t have cared less about the quality of driving or speed around them, and yet all the local cars slammed on their brakes to below the speed limit (110km) every time we encountered a police SUV parked on the side. Arriving back in Amman we encountered some of the worst traffic yet (and that’s saying A LOT) due to the end-of-Eid evening; it almost became a “if you don’t laugh, you’d cry situation” as we got turned around and uttered the infamous National Lampoon’s European Vacation roundabout phrase of “Big Ben/Parliament” as we became caught in the roundabouts, unsure of our next direction. As we passed under an overpass, we even had a firecracker thrown dangerously close to the rental van; I’ll thank physics and/or Allah for the fact it didn’t actually hit us, although with Michael’s window down, it certainly freaked the hell out of us. True to what we’re used to seeing in Kuwait as well, there was a distinct absence of car seats or children using seat belts and we saw huge families crammed into cars (similar to Mexico).
We DID finally make it back to MP/AL’s hotel and also split from N and B who grabbed a taxi back to their hotel (they had plans to visit the Dead Sea the next day and were due back on Wednesday instead of Tuesday). Arriving back at our hotel, we made loose plans to have a later start for our last day, visit one of the larger mosques that has less stringent outside visitation policies, and grab lunch before our late afternoon departure.
DAY FIVE
Our last day (Tuesday, 22.9.09): a bittersweet morning to awake to, yet with all the activity of the past four days, Michael and I agreed we were losing momentum and couldn’t have maintained this pace for much longer (especially with all our various ailments). For all these reasons, it seemed appropriate to start the day slowly, visiting the Mosque of King Abdullah Ibn AL-Hussein.
I borrowed a scarf from MP since all women need to have their heads covered in order to visit. Perhaps due in part to the night following many Eid celebrations, the mosque seemed eerily quiet, yet peaceful. Bright blue tile work encased the outside domes, and a Christian church sat across the street, appropriately juxtaposing the two faiths. We wandered into the different worship halls, removing our shoes as we went, snapping pictures respectfully of the dramatic lanterns, crescent-topped domes, star-shaped metalwork, and bright blue sky. In some of those pictures, my blue eyes really popped out, especially with only my face showing. I also peeked into some of the large rooms designed for the men to wash their feet, which included individual faucets, concrete rectangular stools, and a trough into which the water could drain.
After wandering around for a bit, we drove back over a large modern suspension bridge (that we had crossed inadvertently several times before) near our hotel to a coffee shop with an outdoor patio. We regrouped, studied the map, and attempted to find a certain vegetarian restaurant for lunch; the restaurant locating turned out to be a bust, but we parked on a street filled with tourist agency shops and small local restaurants. We had one final kabob meal with plenty of pita bread (in wouldn’t be a meal in Jordan without pita bread!) in a back alley before departing for the airport.
In a nutshell (over 6000 words is a nutshell – ha!), that’s our Jordan jaunt. We had a few more activities on the way home (including the women only being able to be screened/felt up in the “ladies area” at the Queen Alia Airport, finishing off the last of our vodka at the airport lounge with some cranberry and OJ, and nearly getting run down at the airport in Kuwait by a very aggressive older main trying to clear the entry/visa area…he tripped on Michael’s suitcase, and I can’t say either of us felt bad), but wrapped up our return to Kuwait mostly uneventfully.
Here’s to the start of wonderful travel adventures for both of us – and I’ll try to post from Kuwait at least once a week from now on; that should be MUCH easier once we get our high-speed internet installed in less than two weeks. And we still have several days off; work doesn’t begin again until September 27th – woo hoo!
xoxo
Abby & Michael
Posted: September 24, 2009 / 10:00 (ish) p.m.
24 September 2009
Flickr Time!
In spite of the 56k connection and all-day uploading, here's our Flickr account to check out some Jordan pictures:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/crossmagistro/
xoxo
Abby & Michael
http://www.flickr.com/photos/crossmagistro/
xoxo
Abby & Michael
23 September 2009
Jordanian Explorations, Part 1: traffic, ruins, and salt, oh my!
So aside from moving halfway around the world, it’s been a while since Michael and I have taken a vacation together. In fact, we’ve never technically taken a vacation outside the country (together) that didn’t involve visiting family on some leg of the trip unless you count Mexico, which, let’s face it, is just an extension of living in southern Arizona/Tucson.
About a week ago we found out we would receive our passports back from the school. This is a VERY big deal since we had to turn them in the day after we arrived to begin the civil ID process in Kuwait during Ramadan (that turn-in date was back on August 22nd). We were warned many times not to make any plans for the holiday following Ramadan (Eid Al-Fitr) because all bets were off when it came to guessing when we might have our passports back. So we planned on hanging out, relaxing, and exploring Kuwait a little more for our nine-day break. But lo and behold we received emails saying we were some of the lucky few to have passports wrangled back, and on the day before our actual holiday began (Thursday, 17.9.09), everyone had passports returned. After chatting with friends, weighing options (Bahrain, Egypt, Jordan), and realizing just how much time we had off, we scurried over to a travel agency and booked the same four night/five day stay in Amman, Jordan as a couple of our friends. As the capital and major city in Jordan, it made sense to make Amman our base, but our travels took us all over the country, thanks in part to Michael’s adept driving in the face of insanity and the rental of a huge nine-seater Hyundai van that we affectionately named “Hezbollah” (yes, a terrorist group, but it also means “God’s party” in Arabic).
DAY ONE
We flew out on Friday (18.9.09), the very start of our holiday; looking back (as I sit lazily and exhausted on the couch typing out this blog post), I’m really happy it worked out this way because I do need a vacation from our vacation – we were damn busy! If you read the post below, I quickly outlined our itinerary and we were truly go-go-going every minute of the day. There were six of us to start, with Michael and me as the lone Americans in a van full of Canadians (eh? :), but when we hit Petra we rendezvoused with two other ASK American high school teachers that flew out a day later than us.
Arriving in Amman actually proved fairly simple. We flew Wataniya, a Kuwait-based airline that has its own airport separate from the chaos that is KWI. We had comfy seats (made by Recaro of Germany, same company that makes seats for Porsche), food on the plane, and polite flight attendants – what a concept! Since we did conduct this trip flying by the seat of our knee-length shorts, skirts, or pants (still Ramadan, women still need to be covered up…even more conservatively than usual), we traded some hard-earned Kuwaiti Dinar for some crappy-exchange rate Jordanian Dinar at the airport to have cash for the visas (10JD for each of us; we spent the entire trip slipping up and saying “KD” instead of “JD,” which can prove dangerous if sellers hear you because the KD is stronger and worth more). We now have very lovely new stickers and stamps on an entire page in our passports to prove that the traveling bug bit us and we traveled over the Eid holiday!
After all moving through the visa purchasing and stamping process, we headed to the duty free shop to stock up on alcohol (beer and vodka!) since A) you CAN drink in Jordan and B) we had received a tip that it’s much cheaper to buy at the duty free shop than at hotels, restaurants, and hostels (and the purchase could be made in U.S. dollars – I should have brought my left over cash – but used one of my credit cards instead and only racked up $25). We would have bought more, but only one bottle/six-pack per person allowed (although Michael was so happy to have a real cold beer). The gang headed downstairs next and debated how and where to grab a rental car. When it became clear our options were a bit limited due to the size of our group (six) and the lack of a reservation, we snagged a nine-seater van with a standard transmission. This almost immediately ensured Michael would drive which proved a blessing and a curse; it put a lot of extra stress on him to drive throughout the trip, but I don’t know if anyone else had the experience driving a van with such awful shifting (we smoked out the clutch backing uphill on our way to Petra!). The traffic definitely gives Boston and San Diego a run for their money. (Michael’s final description of driving in Amman and throughout Jordan was “terrifying,” which certainly wasn’t helped by the fact that our maps and the road signs often didn’t match, I possessed sub-par solo navigation skills in Amman, and traffic proved absolutely crazy due to the end of Ramadan/Eid celebrations. I think Michael just had to join in the insane driving mentality because I’ve never seen him try driving moves like that, yet we never got hit or hit anyone. However, one of the most horrific things we saw on our final night was a young woman on the side of the road with her head lying in a pool of basketball-sized blood, most likely from being shot or struck by a car, surrounded by a crowd and military police.)
So, van secured and everyone in (after one of the Thrifty agents very amusingly yelled at us with a straight face about why we were getting in the wrong van…Jordanians are much friendlier than Kuwaitis and like to tease), we proceeded to drive around for, um, an hour and a half (or longer?) trying to find the hotel. This situation was complicated by the fact that out of the three couples, one was staying at a different hotel (not by choice, they received their passports back and booked the trip the day before we left). We stopped and asked for directions multiple times, but finally pulled the van over by a cabbie changing his flat tire and had him lead us to the hotel (which we would not have found quickly otherwise); honestly, we weren’t even close to where we needed to be. Two couples checked in, bladders emptied, and multiple beers consumed, we headed out to find hotel #2. This did prove easier than finding the first hotel, and all but Michael trooped upstairs to use the bathroom once again (he stayed with the van – a necessity – and peed in the alley…love you, baby). Then we proceeded to wait about 10 minutes for the elevator, which, when it did open, was packed with about 20 people and no room for us. So our gang of five trooped down 15 (yes, that’s right) flights of stairs to find Michael very frustrated in the van after waiting on us for roughly 25 minutes (apparently in that time he’d been yelled at to move the van repeatedly by the hotel staff, including men guarding the hotel with MP5s and AR15s…they also questioned him once in Arabic, proving that he can “pass,” especially with his thick beard, driving a large van at night).
Food! Yes, we had received a meal on the flight, but that was about five hours earlier and we were all starving. After being willing to eat McDonald’s out of sheer hunger, we attempted to go into underground parking with no luck. That led us to a large round restaurant near the second hotel where Michael saw “testicles” and “brains” listed on the menu and suggested we check out the restaurant next door; there was also no one eating at the first restaurant and I personally never take that as a good sign. Unfortunately, the restaurant next door served mainly coffee and shisha, and we needed to eat, not just smoke. So back to the testicle restaurant we went where all the ladies challenged the men to eat balls to no avail. The food, mostly kabobs and such, turned out quite yummy; bellies full, we dropped off AL and MP to their hotel. However, I think it took us about 45 minutes to return to our hotel (boo to navigating streets in Amman with inferior maps at night…I’m definitely looking forward to public transportation in Amsterdam come November). We all agreed to an early start the next day since we had both Jerash and the Dead Sea on our agenda.
DAY TWO
We even beat the blue hairs down to breakfast! Since we booked last-minute (and I think the travel agent had the incorrect idea in her head that we needed a really nice place), we stayed at the Imperial Palace Hotel. They seemed to cater to an older (often German, and at times rude) tour group crowd; however, the hotel staff were always quite nice (especially the men outside contending with parking Hezbollah). We stuffed our faces for the day ahead, which included visiting Roman ruins roughly 2000 years old in Jerash (also known as the Greco-Roman city of Gerasa, I’m in the process of uploading a bunch of pics to our new Flickr account; we took over 350 photos). The drive there actually proved fairly straight forward (more or less) with a stop for me to use the bathroom (I developed a nasty urinary tract infection on the trip). We didn’t originally realize the ruins sat right in the middle of town and drove around a bit trying to determine if we had to buy the 8JD tickets to enter (yes, we did). We ambled in, Michael purchasing a flute involving electrical tape from a kid, and attempted to side-step the throngs of tourist groups. The other couples in our group tried to circumvent the ticket buying (and blend with the throngs of tourist groups), but then had to back track for purchasing when a ticket checkpoint popped up. Michael and I went on ahead; out of no where, an older gentleman aggressively, but kindly, took our camera and snapped some very good pictures of us among the ruins at Jerash. However, not asking for his services (and not ones to be coerced into handing out cash/not having much to hand out in the first place), he grumbled as he walked away with our offering (sorry, buddy…we are twenty/thirty-something teachers).
We meandered around, listening occasionally to the groups with English or Spanish-speaking tour guides. I’m not really a tour group kind of person, so Michael and I were happy to wander around, reading plaques, noticing details, and admiring the sheer size and age of it all. We reconnected momentarily with the other couples in the amphitheater (the acoustics were phenomenal; MP said she knew we were in there because they heard Michael talking in a normal speaking voice at the bottom as they all sat at the top). We chilled there for a few minutes and then headed back toward the beginning since we had already looped through most of the ruins. While we waited for everyone, we stopped at the restaurant/bar on site and enjoyed very cold, tasty (and expensive: 5JD!) Amstel Lights. Ah, well, vacation and all, and not being able to purchase REAL beer in Kuwait made it worthwhile. We liked that Jordan is a “relaxed Muslim” country – we were even able to eat and drink in public during Ramadan. Once everyone caught up to us, I plotted a route for the Dead Sea and we headed out.
Leaving from Jerash instead of Amman meant that we definitely took the long (but culturally rich) way around. Lots of small towns through which to drive, people crossing the street randomly without warning, and what we would consider in the U.S. to be nearly third-world conditions. We also started to realize that Jordan is a country that does not like to mark their “speed control” bumps very well (i.e. hardly at all, they often blend in with the same asphalt as the road), and we continued on our bumpy ride. Shortly before we reached the Dead Sea, we pulled over for lunch at a hold-in-the-wall (and floor, literally, with a hole in the ground as a bathroom) roasting chickens. We made the mistake of not agreeing on a price per chicken before we ate (big mistake) and ended up arguing with the man feeding us when he tried to rip us off for three chickens and two sodas at the rate of 18JD ($25). Yeah, right. We ended up throwing 15JD at him (and showing a few choice signals as we left; f*** you in the Middle East also can be shown by a gesture that looks like you’re screwing in a light bulb). That meal became labeled as the “chicken incident,” and we compared a great deal throughout the rest of the trip to the cost of each chicken (for reference, snorkeling gear and quickie instruction in Aqaba on our last full day only cost us 5JD each…go figure).
Once we reached the Dead Sea, we drove past all the big hotels and headed for a suggestion from the guide book: Amman Beach. The Lonely Planet guide book that MP/AL brought covered about six Middle Eastern countries and proved a valuable (and trusted) resource time and again; Amman Beach was clean, resort-like, and not too crowded. Getting out of the van, the temperature and air had changed palpably to be more hot and humid (basically Florida), and demonstrated the conditions of why the Dead Sea even exists. This place, probably above all the others, boggled my mind and made for a very child-like experience! Wading out into the water, I didn’t really get the full measure or sensation of being in water that salinated (and which provided so much buoyancy) until letting myself go at about waist-depth. My feet bobbed up and my whole body felt supported as if playing the game “light as a feather, stiff as a board” (ladies, remember that from all those early-age slumber parties?). Try as I might, I couldn’t stay under water (I actually never fully dunked my head because of my contacts), and one drop of water in my mouth or my eyes stung like crazy. Taking pictures and video proved challenging indeed (we had bought an awesome waterproof camera and Michael took amazing shots all holiday long); there was a complete lack of balance while bobbing along if your feet couldn’t touch the bottom. I squatted in the shallow water and dug out the dense clay particular to the Dead Sea and covered my chest, back, arms, and stomach with it. All the ladies bonded over the stinging on our legs (and other choice regions), even though I had shaved two days earlier. Any cut or sore on one’s body became a source of pain; so be warned: don’t go into the Dead Sea with major cuts or on a day you shave. After playing around and demonstrating various poses in the water (belly down like Superman, sitting cross-legged, grabbing feet like a baby on its back), we all made our way back up to the two pools also contained within the Amman Beach area. These pools (complete with a waterfall and stunning views) provided a refreshing contrast to the salt water. We swam, chatted, goofed around, and then realized our exhaustion caught up with us. We headed back to Amman, changed clothes, drank our coveted duty-free wine and beer, regrouped, and headed out to the large souk/market in the city center for more activity.
Michael and I aren’t big shoppers, so exploring Amman’s souks was more of a cultural experience than a shopping experience for us. We decided very early on when coming to Kuwait that our money is best spent on travel, debt, and savings than stuff. Besides, everything here (clothes, food, you name it) is more expensive. I’m sure as we travel more, I’ll collect a few items, but whatever we buy here will eventually have to make its way out of the country as well. Currently the only things on my “to buy” list include a few carpets, wall fabrics, and frames to decorate our apartment.
Saturday night (19.9.09), the night ending Ramadan and beginning Eid, proved totally busy in the heart of the city. We opted to share a taxi (six of us crammed into one because so many taxis wanted to charge us a crazy amount of money to head into this busy part of town!) rather than having Michael drive and park in the insanity; people and cars were everywhere and I don’t know that I’ve ever been in a city that crowded in that chaotic of a manner. The poverty of it all reminded me of Mexico: children begging for money, people selling food and worthless trinkets on the street, and families rushing around together (often holding young infants). Many men and women dressed in more traditional clothing; dishdashas for men and some combination of the abaya (the long robe), the hijab (the head covering), and the burqa (the veil piece that covers the face and sometimes exposes the eyes – Michael has taken to calling women wearing the full outfit “ninjas,” sometimes a little too loudly in public!). The end of Ramadan ensured this part of the city was extra–crowded and fireworks exploded off one of the minarets of a nearby mosque. We wandered together, Michael usually clutching my hand and refusing to let go, admiring the goods of vendors. We ducked into a supposed restaurant (which was closed and reeked of cleaning solution like turpentine) and stayed only long enough to use their hole-in-the-floor bathroom (I learned to always carry my own toilet paper and hand sanitizer on this trip). We finally ended up in a larger shop where SC and KW bought wine glasses and a pashmina; I also lowered my slime-o-meter detector for once as one of the shop’s employees, Mohammed, kindly chatted us up, displayed the shop’s items, and led us to a standing-room-only restaurant for food. Turns out Mohammed is engaged to a young woman from South Dakota and he enjoyed sharing his stories, a cigarette with Michael, and opinion on Kuwaitis (most other Middle Easterners view Kuwaitis as being lazy, entitled, and rather stuck up…hrmm…). By the end of all this scurrying, we shared a cab back (for a fifth of the price of the arrival trip) and passed out from sheer exhaustion.
Alright, part two to be posted as soon as possible…sleepy time for me.
xoxo
Abby & Michael
Posted: September 23, 2009 / 11:50 (ish) p.m.
About a week ago we found out we would receive our passports back from the school. This is a VERY big deal since we had to turn them in the day after we arrived to begin the civil ID process in Kuwait during Ramadan (that turn-in date was back on August 22nd). We were warned many times not to make any plans for the holiday following Ramadan (Eid Al-Fitr) because all bets were off when it came to guessing when we might have our passports back. So we planned on hanging out, relaxing, and exploring Kuwait a little more for our nine-day break. But lo and behold we received emails saying we were some of the lucky few to have passports wrangled back, and on the day before our actual holiday began (Thursday, 17.9.09), everyone had passports returned. After chatting with friends, weighing options (Bahrain, Egypt, Jordan), and realizing just how much time we had off, we scurried over to a travel agency and booked the same four night/five day stay in Amman, Jordan as a couple of our friends. As the capital and major city in Jordan, it made sense to make Amman our base, but our travels took us all over the country, thanks in part to Michael’s adept driving in the face of insanity and the rental of a huge nine-seater Hyundai van that we affectionately named “Hezbollah” (yes, a terrorist group, but it also means “God’s party” in Arabic).
DAY ONE
We flew out on Friday (18.9.09), the very start of our holiday; looking back (as I sit lazily and exhausted on the couch typing out this blog post), I’m really happy it worked out this way because I do need a vacation from our vacation – we were damn busy! If you read the post below, I quickly outlined our itinerary and we were truly go-go-going every minute of the day. There were six of us to start, with Michael and me as the lone Americans in a van full of Canadians (eh? :), but when we hit Petra we rendezvoused with two other ASK American high school teachers that flew out a day later than us.
Arriving in Amman actually proved fairly simple. We flew Wataniya, a Kuwait-based airline that has its own airport separate from the chaos that is KWI. We had comfy seats (made by Recaro of Germany, same company that makes seats for Porsche), food on the plane, and polite flight attendants – what a concept! Since we did conduct this trip flying by the seat of our knee-length shorts, skirts, or pants (still Ramadan, women still need to be covered up…even more conservatively than usual), we traded some hard-earned Kuwaiti Dinar for some crappy-exchange rate Jordanian Dinar at the airport to have cash for the visas (10JD for each of us; we spent the entire trip slipping up and saying “KD” instead of “JD,” which can prove dangerous if sellers hear you because the KD is stronger and worth more). We now have very lovely new stickers and stamps on an entire page in our passports to prove that the traveling bug bit us and we traveled over the Eid holiday!
After all moving through the visa purchasing and stamping process, we headed to the duty free shop to stock up on alcohol (beer and vodka!) since A) you CAN drink in Jordan and B) we had received a tip that it’s much cheaper to buy at the duty free shop than at hotels, restaurants, and hostels (and the purchase could be made in U.S. dollars – I should have brought my left over cash – but used one of my credit cards instead and only racked up $25). We would have bought more, but only one bottle/six-pack per person allowed (although Michael was so happy to have a real cold beer). The gang headed downstairs next and debated how and where to grab a rental car. When it became clear our options were a bit limited due to the size of our group (six) and the lack of a reservation, we snagged a nine-seater van with a standard transmission. This almost immediately ensured Michael would drive which proved a blessing and a curse; it put a lot of extra stress on him to drive throughout the trip, but I don’t know if anyone else had the experience driving a van with such awful shifting (we smoked out the clutch backing uphill on our way to Petra!). The traffic definitely gives Boston and San Diego a run for their money. (Michael’s final description of driving in Amman and throughout Jordan was “terrifying,” which certainly wasn’t helped by the fact that our maps and the road signs often didn’t match, I possessed sub-par solo navigation skills in Amman, and traffic proved absolutely crazy due to the end of Ramadan/Eid celebrations. I think Michael just had to join in the insane driving mentality because I’ve never seen him try driving moves like that, yet we never got hit or hit anyone. However, one of the most horrific things we saw on our final night was a young woman on the side of the road with her head lying in a pool of basketball-sized blood, most likely from being shot or struck by a car, surrounded by a crowd and military police.)
So, van secured and everyone in (after one of the Thrifty agents very amusingly yelled at us with a straight face about why we were getting in the wrong van…Jordanians are much friendlier than Kuwaitis and like to tease), we proceeded to drive around for, um, an hour and a half (or longer?) trying to find the hotel. This situation was complicated by the fact that out of the three couples, one was staying at a different hotel (not by choice, they received their passports back and booked the trip the day before we left). We stopped and asked for directions multiple times, but finally pulled the van over by a cabbie changing his flat tire and had him lead us to the hotel (which we would not have found quickly otherwise); honestly, we weren’t even close to where we needed to be. Two couples checked in, bladders emptied, and multiple beers consumed, we headed out to find hotel #2. This did prove easier than finding the first hotel, and all but Michael trooped upstairs to use the bathroom once again (he stayed with the van – a necessity – and peed in the alley…love you, baby). Then we proceeded to wait about 10 minutes for the elevator, which, when it did open, was packed with about 20 people and no room for us. So our gang of five trooped down 15 (yes, that’s right) flights of stairs to find Michael very frustrated in the van after waiting on us for roughly 25 minutes (apparently in that time he’d been yelled at to move the van repeatedly by the hotel staff, including men guarding the hotel with MP5s and AR15s…they also questioned him once in Arabic, proving that he can “pass,” especially with his thick beard, driving a large van at night).
Food! Yes, we had received a meal on the flight, but that was about five hours earlier and we were all starving. After being willing to eat McDonald’s out of sheer hunger, we attempted to go into underground parking with no luck. That led us to a large round restaurant near the second hotel where Michael saw “testicles” and “brains” listed on the menu and suggested we check out the restaurant next door; there was also no one eating at the first restaurant and I personally never take that as a good sign. Unfortunately, the restaurant next door served mainly coffee and shisha, and we needed to eat, not just smoke. So back to the testicle restaurant we went where all the ladies challenged the men to eat balls to no avail. The food, mostly kabobs and such, turned out quite yummy; bellies full, we dropped off AL and MP to their hotel. However, I think it took us about 45 minutes to return to our hotel (boo to navigating streets in Amman with inferior maps at night…I’m definitely looking forward to public transportation in Amsterdam come November). We all agreed to an early start the next day since we had both Jerash and the Dead Sea on our agenda.
DAY TWO
We even beat the blue hairs down to breakfast! Since we booked last-minute (and I think the travel agent had the incorrect idea in her head that we needed a really nice place), we stayed at the Imperial Palace Hotel. They seemed to cater to an older (often German, and at times rude) tour group crowd; however, the hotel staff were always quite nice (especially the men outside contending with parking Hezbollah). We stuffed our faces for the day ahead, which included visiting Roman ruins roughly 2000 years old in Jerash (also known as the Greco-Roman city of Gerasa, I’m in the process of uploading a bunch of pics to our new Flickr account; we took over 350 photos). The drive there actually proved fairly straight forward (more or less) with a stop for me to use the bathroom (I developed a nasty urinary tract infection on the trip). We didn’t originally realize the ruins sat right in the middle of town and drove around a bit trying to determine if we had to buy the 8JD tickets to enter (yes, we did). We ambled in, Michael purchasing a flute involving electrical tape from a kid, and attempted to side-step the throngs of tourist groups. The other couples in our group tried to circumvent the ticket buying (and blend with the throngs of tourist groups), but then had to back track for purchasing when a ticket checkpoint popped up. Michael and I went on ahead; out of no where, an older gentleman aggressively, but kindly, took our camera and snapped some very good pictures of us among the ruins at Jerash. However, not asking for his services (and not ones to be coerced into handing out cash/not having much to hand out in the first place), he grumbled as he walked away with our offering (sorry, buddy…we are twenty/thirty-something teachers).
We meandered around, listening occasionally to the groups with English or Spanish-speaking tour guides. I’m not really a tour group kind of person, so Michael and I were happy to wander around, reading plaques, noticing details, and admiring the sheer size and age of it all. We reconnected momentarily with the other couples in the amphitheater (the acoustics were phenomenal; MP said she knew we were in there because they heard Michael talking in a normal speaking voice at the bottom as they all sat at the top). We chilled there for a few minutes and then headed back toward the beginning since we had already looped through most of the ruins. While we waited for everyone, we stopped at the restaurant/bar on site and enjoyed very cold, tasty (and expensive: 5JD!) Amstel Lights. Ah, well, vacation and all, and not being able to purchase REAL beer in Kuwait made it worthwhile. We liked that Jordan is a “relaxed Muslim” country – we were even able to eat and drink in public during Ramadan. Once everyone caught up to us, I plotted a route for the Dead Sea and we headed out.
Leaving from Jerash instead of Amman meant that we definitely took the long (but culturally rich) way around. Lots of small towns through which to drive, people crossing the street randomly without warning, and what we would consider in the U.S. to be nearly third-world conditions. We also started to realize that Jordan is a country that does not like to mark their “speed control” bumps very well (i.e. hardly at all, they often blend in with the same asphalt as the road), and we continued on our bumpy ride. Shortly before we reached the Dead Sea, we pulled over for lunch at a hold-in-the-wall (and floor, literally, with a hole in the ground as a bathroom) roasting chickens. We made the mistake of not agreeing on a price per chicken before we ate (big mistake) and ended up arguing with the man feeding us when he tried to rip us off for three chickens and two sodas at the rate of 18JD ($25). Yeah, right. We ended up throwing 15JD at him (and showing a few choice signals as we left; f*** you in the Middle East also can be shown by a gesture that looks like you’re screwing in a light bulb). That meal became labeled as the “chicken incident,” and we compared a great deal throughout the rest of the trip to the cost of each chicken (for reference, snorkeling gear and quickie instruction in Aqaba on our last full day only cost us 5JD each…go figure).
Once we reached the Dead Sea, we drove past all the big hotels and headed for a suggestion from the guide book: Amman Beach. The Lonely Planet guide book that MP/AL brought covered about six Middle Eastern countries and proved a valuable (and trusted) resource time and again; Amman Beach was clean, resort-like, and not too crowded. Getting out of the van, the temperature and air had changed palpably to be more hot and humid (basically Florida), and demonstrated the conditions of why the Dead Sea even exists. This place, probably above all the others, boggled my mind and made for a very child-like experience! Wading out into the water, I didn’t really get the full measure or sensation of being in water that salinated (and which provided so much buoyancy) until letting myself go at about waist-depth. My feet bobbed up and my whole body felt supported as if playing the game “light as a feather, stiff as a board” (ladies, remember that from all those early-age slumber parties?). Try as I might, I couldn’t stay under water (I actually never fully dunked my head because of my contacts), and one drop of water in my mouth or my eyes stung like crazy. Taking pictures and video proved challenging indeed (we had bought an awesome waterproof camera and Michael took amazing shots all holiday long); there was a complete lack of balance while bobbing along if your feet couldn’t touch the bottom. I squatted in the shallow water and dug out the dense clay particular to the Dead Sea and covered my chest, back, arms, and stomach with it. All the ladies bonded over the stinging on our legs (and other choice regions), even though I had shaved two days earlier. Any cut or sore on one’s body became a source of pain; so be warned: don’t go into the Dead Sea with major cuts or on a day you shave. After playing around and demonstrating various poses in the water (belly down like Superman, sitting cross-legged, grabbing feet like a baby on its back), we all made our way back up to the two pools also contained within the Amman Beach area. These pools (complete with a waterfall and stunning views) provided a refreshing contrast to the salt water. We swam, chatted, goofed around, and then realized our exhaustion caught up with us. We headed back to Amman, changed clothes, drank our coveted duty-free wine and beer, regrouped, and headed out to the large souk/market in the city center for more activity.
Michael and I aren’t big shoppers, so exploring Amman’s souks was more of a cultural experience than a shopping experience for us. We decided very early on when coming to Kuwait that our money is best spent on travel, debt, and savings than stuff. Besides, everything here (clothes, food, you name it) is more expensive. I’m sure as we travel more, I’ll collect a few items, but whatever we buy here will eventually have to make its way out of the country as well. Currently the only things on my “to buy” list include a few carpets, wall fabrics, and frames to decorate our apartment.
Saturday night (19.9.09), the night ending Ramadan and beginning Eid, proved totally busy in the heart of the city. We opted to share a taxi (six of us crammed into one because so many taxis wanted to charge us a crazy amount of money to head into this busy part of town!) rather than having Michael drive and park in the insanity; people and cars were everywhere and I don’t know that I’ve ever been in a city that crowded in that chaotic of a manner. The poverty of it all reminded me of Mexico: children begging for money, people selling food and worthless trinkets on the street, and families rushing around together (often holding young infants). Many men and women dressed in more traditional clothing; dishdashas for men and some combination of the abaya (the long robe), the hijab (the head covering), and the burqa (the veil piece that covers the face and sometimes exposes the eyes – Michael has taken to calling women wearing the full outfit “ninjas,” sometimes a little too loudly in public!). The end of Ramadan ensured this part of the city was extra–crowded and fireworks exploded off one of the minarets of a nearby mosque. We wandered together, Michael usually clutching my hand and refusing to let go, admiring the goods of vendors. We ducked into a supposed restaurant (which was closed and reeked of cleaning solution like turpentine) and stayed only long enough to use their hole-in-the-floor bathroom (I learned to always carry my own toilet paper and hand sanitizer on this trip). We finally ended up in a larger shop where SC and KW bought wine glasses and a pashmina; I also lowered my slime-o-meter detector for once as one of the shop’s employees, Mohammed, kindly chatted us up, displayed the shop’s items, and led us to a standing-room-only restaurant for food. Turns out Mohammed is engaged to a young woman from South Dakota and he enjoyed sharing his stories, a cigarette with Michael, and opinion on Kuwaitis (most other Middle Easterners view Kuwaitis as being lazy, entitled, and rather stuck up…hrmm…). By the end of all this scurrying, we shared a cab back (for a fifth of the price of the arrival trip) and passed out from sheer exhaustion.
Alright, part two to be posted as soon as possible…sleepy time for me.
xoxo
Abby & Michael
Posted: September 23, 2009 / 11:50 (ish) p.m.
22 September 2009
Petra Rocks…Literally and Figuratively!
…And we’re back! We had a whirlwind four nights/five days in Jordan that ended up including the following (the Reader’s Digest version):
Day 1 / Friday, 18.9.09
We flew out of Kuwait, became very lost in Amman getting to the hotel as Michael drove the party van (a nine-seater we affectionately named “Hezbollah”), and avoided eating testicles for dinner.
Day 2 / Saturday, 19.9.09
The gang visited Jerash to see some really old ruins (that looked legit, as Michael would comment), and swam in the Dead Sea. The Dead Sea is totally worth ALL the hype.
Day 3 / Sunday, 20.9.09
We drove to Petra, hiked and climbed all over, and pretended to be in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. We also stayed at an adorable hostel with a yummy and mostly vegetarian dinner (boys’ and girls’ rooms to boot…it was like being back in college).
Day 4 / Monday, 21.9.09
A little more Petra wandering in the a.m. and snorkeling in Aqaba in the p.m.; yes, I managed to hit the Dead Sea and Red Sea (via the Gulf of Aqaba) – woot, woot!
Day 5 / Tuesday, 22.9.09
We got lost a little more (trust me, that’s a theme of this trip!), visited the Mosque of King Abdullah, and had a yummy last lunch in an alley.
More to come tomorrow as I get into the blogging zone after much sleep and some real coffee (boo to Nescafe).
xoxo
Abby & Michael
Posted: September 22, 2009 / 9:00 (ish) p.m.
Day 1 / Friday, 18.9.09
We flew out of Kuwait, became very lost in Amman getting to the hotel as Michael drove the party van (a nine-seater we affectionately named “Hezbollah”), and avoided eating testicles for dinner.
Day 2 / Saturday, 19.9.09
The gang visited Jerash to see some really old ruins (that looked legit, as Michael would comment), and swam in the Dead Sea. The Dead Sea is totally worth ALL the hype.
Day 3 / Sunday, 20.9.09
We drove to Petra, hiked and climbed all over, and pretended to be in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. We also stayed at an adorable hostel with a yummy and mostly vegetarian dinner (boys’ and girls’ rooms to boot…it was like being back in college).
Day 4 / Monday, 21.9.09
A little more Petra wandering in the a.m. and snorkeling in Aqaba in the p.m.; yes, I managed to hit the Dead Sea and Red Sea (via the Gulf of Aqaba) – woot, woot!
Day 5 / Tuesday, 22.9.09
We got lost a little more (trust me, that’s a theme of this trip!), visited the Mosque of King Abdullah, and had a yummy last lunch in an alley.
More to come tomorrow as I get into the blogging zone after much sleep and some real coffee (boo to Nescafe).
xoxo
Abby & Michael
Posted: September 22, 2009 / 9:00 (ish) p.m.
07 September 2009
“It’s a small (Kuwaiti) world after all…”
I don’t know that I’ve written much about how small the world has started to seem now that we’ve been living here for just a few weeks. Before we left the U.S., Michael and I had a few amusing experiences that synchronized with our coming here; in Florida we learned (after a series of annoying rental car mishaps) that our Enterprise agent was Kuwaiti and had nieces and nephews that graduated from ASK. I also found out a couple weeks before leaving Tucson that one of the staff in a different area of my teacher certification program had lived in Kuwait and worked as a teacher, assistant principal, and principal at our school (speaking of which, I need to ask my team leader if she remembers him…she seems to know everyone and everything about the school…remind me, MS!).
Now that we’re here, the geography of people continues to intersect constantly. Michael has parents in his class from Boston; another new fifth grade teacher also flew out on our Logan flight. My second grade team members have also lived in Arizona, California, and Florida (one attended the same teacher program as Michael at the U of A for a time and another lived for years in Bellingham, Washington – a city we’re considering seriously whenever we move back to the states). Oh, and for all my Ohio relatives out there, my team leader attended the University of Cincinnati (and met her Kuwaiti husband – also attending the school – during this time)! To top it all off, I made a point of saying in my welcome newsletter that I grew up in Orlando, and had the father of one of my students mention going to UCF and living in Oviedo. The world has indeed become a much smaller place by leaving the country.
After basing our international teaching decision on the school first and location second, the Middle East ranked high because it puts us so close to so much. A flight to Paris or Bangkok is only six hours, just in opposite directions! (Okay, and I’ll admit I always enjoyed the shock factor of announcing the move, especially as a petite – formerly blonde – woman; what can I say, I fear the unlived life.) So, for anyone considering a travel rendezvous with us in the not-too-distant future, here’s what we’ve been discussing (or had recommended to us – in no particular order):
1. Turkey, especially Istanbul (not Constantinople – thanks, TMBG); this might be our Thanksgiving break trip.
2. Amman, Jordan
3. Prague/Amsterdam/Budapest/London
4. Thailand/Vietnam
5. Africa (I want a safari trip while I’m within spitting distance of the continent!)
More Europe is there and very tempting, but the currency exchange still costs a lot (even going from the Kuwaiti Dinar to Euros instead of getting U.S. dollars involved). However, I would really dig a little Spain, Greece, and Italy in 2010.
That list (other than Amman) hardly includes all the travel recommended to us within the Middle East. We’re already talking about possibly doing summer school in June, so mark your calendars for the winter break and July 2010, folks, ‘cause that’s when we’ll be making the rounds.
Love to you all!
xoxo
Abby & Michael
Posted: September 7, 2009 / 6:00 (ish) p.m.
Now that we’re here, the geography of people continues to intersect constantly. Michael has parents in his class from Boston; another new fifth grade teacher also flew out on our Logan flight. My second grade team members have also lived in Arizona, California, and Florida (one attended the same teacher program as Michael at the U of A for a time and another lived for years in Bellingham, Washington – a city we’re considering seriously whenever we move back to the states). Oh, and for all my Ohio relatives out there, my team leader attended the University of Cincinnati (and met her Kuwaiti husband – also attending the school – during this time)! To top it all off, I made a point of saying in my welcome newsletter that I grew up in Orlando, and had the father of one of my students mention going to UCF and living in Oviedo. The world has indeed become a much smaller place by leaving the country.
After basing our international teaching decision on the school first and location second, the Middle East ranked high because it puts us so close to so much. A flight to Paris or Bangkok is only six hours, just in opposite directions! (Okay, and I’ll admit I always enjoyed the shock factor of announcing the move, especially as a petite – formerly blonde – woman; what can I say, I fear the unlived life.) So, for anyone considering a travel rendezvous with us in the not-too-distant future, here’s what we’ve been discussing (or had recommended to us – in no particular order):
1. Turkey, especially Istanbul (not Constantinople – thanks, TMBG); this might be our Thanksgiving break trip.
2. Amman, Jordan
3. Prague/Amsterdam/Budapest/London
4. Thailand/Vietnam
5. Africa (I want a safari trip while I’m within spitting distance of the continent!)
More Europe is there and very tempting, but the currency exchange still costs a lot (even going from the Kuwaiti Dinar to Euros instead of getting U.S. dollars involved). However, I would really dig a little Spain, Greece, and Italy in 2010.
That list (other than Amman) hardly includes all the travel recommended to us within the Middle East. We’re already talking about possibly doing summer school in June, so mark your calendars for the winter break and July 2010, folks, ‘cause that’s when we’ll be making the rounds.
Love to you all!
xoxo
Abby & Michael
Posted: September 7, 2009 / 6:00 (ish) p.m.
05 September 2009
Ladies & gentlemen, we have a weekend!
We DID have a short week (three days with the students on a shortened 9:00-2:00 Ramadan schedule); however, after only two weeks in the country and constant go-go-going, this weekend has given us a much-needed rest.
I still only have half of my students and given Ramadan and H1N1, I don’t think that’s changing for next week (a couple of schools seem to have some confirmed cases, supposedly ours included…but I didn’t hear that from admin, so I’m guessing it’s business as usual next week). We came home on Thursday night (our “Friday” night) with the intention of enjoying the company of oodles of people, but instead just chilled out in one of our new friend’s apartment, ate some Thai food, had some good conversation, and passed out by 11:00. Actually, it was just what I needed.
(And I scored boatloads of hangers; everything IS much more expensive here, so that was a huge bonus. On that note, I suppose that which we need to buy – food – is way more expensive, especially if you’re trying to buy western items, i.e. Heinz ketchup and Bertolli pasta sauce. Michael and I tend to be more than happy to buy the local brands, but the grocery stores to which we’ve been taken tend to be the more expensive ones due to the fact that we’re at the mercy of others to get places, the cheaper places are further away, and Ramadan screws up all the hours shops are open at convenient times for us. Mark that as one more check in the “getting a car as soon as freakin’ possible” column, which will still most likely be in December. Don’t even get me started on the lack of “green thinking” and sustainability in Kuwait; I’ll save that for another post. Suffice it to say that when you can fill up an SUV – like a Hyundai Tucson – for 3 KD, or less than $12 U.S. dollars, it doesn’t exactly encourage conservation).
The good conversations on Thursday night involved a number of returning teachers so we learned some interesting tidbits of information. Lots of recommendations for joining the Hilton (we should be able to join as a couple for a cheaper rate even though we’re not married and take advantage of the gym, beach, and pool – which allows western beach attire). People seem to save varying amounts of money here based on how much or little they travel and we received lots of recommendations for travel (Istanbul, Amman, Prague, Budapest, and maybe Southeast Asia for the holidays). I suppose we do fall into the “dinks” category at the moment – double income, no kids – so we’ll focus on paying down tons of student loan/credit card debt. We hadn’t originally planned on a car right away, but the lack of independence is getting to us; we still won’t have our Kuwaiti driver’s licenses until around December, so that expense is a little ways off (a lease on a nice little Peugeot hatchback will probably run us 105 KD/month or we could hunt around for a cheap used car; the jury’s still out on that one, but Michael could probably fix most car problems himself).
I think we may be saving the big cultural excursions and experimenting until after we’ve had a little more down time. One of the elementary resource teachers was nice enough to pile a bunch of us in her car on Friday to go grocery shopping…we have food again! Woo hoo! We actually had burgers for linner (lunch/dinner…it made it feel like we were back home) and planned to go to the Friday market to scope out nice carpets and other fun apartment items, but exhaustion got the better of us and the pool reigned supreme. We brought home a shower curtain and rod Friday night (a purchase I’d been dying to make), only to find out it didn’t fit. With a little ingenuity (or “MacGyvering”) we used the outside plastic shell of an Xbox 360 power supply case, a Pepsi bottle cap, and yellow duct tape to secure the curtain in place. We’ll see how long that holds up. :-)
Since Michael has had more of his students, he’s already had some interesting parent conversations and invitations. One family invited Michael to dinner at their home sometime in the not-too-distant future; they’re also from Boston, both parents with doctorates, and the father turned down a job as the VP of Citibank to work as a head finance officer for the NY Stock Exchange. Another father offered to make Michael any suit he wanted since he’s a custom tailor (and also made a few side comments about the racial/class divides here in Kuwait). That discrimination and class structure is a little disconcerting to see, but we definitely seem to be caught up in that hierarchy. Kuwaitis are always at the top of the hierarchy, with Americans (or other white-collar workers close behind…engineers, oil executives, embassy officials, teachers, etc.). After that, different nationalities received different levels of discrimination and have jobs accordingly. For example, all the janitors and nannies seem to be Indian or Pakistani, while Filipinos and other “light-skinned” individuals work in service industries such as retail. It’s surreal to view so much diversity, but feel the same type of racial tension (but with different players) as in the states. From some of the stories women have told about being ogled or harassed (although not necessarily in unsafe ways), I feel very fortunate to have come to Kuwait with a male partner.
Okay, off to get ready for another week with the cutie pies in second grade…I’ll post more soon, and pictures when our high-speed connection is up and kickin’.
xoxo
Abby & Michael
Posted: September 5, 2009 / 2:30 (ish) p.m.
I still only have half of my students and given Ramadan and H1N1, I don’t think that’s changing for next week (a couple of schools seem to have some confirmed cases, supposedly ours included…but I didn’t hear that from admin, so I’m guessing it’s business as usual next week). We came home on Thursday night (our “Friday” night) with the intention of enjoying the company of oodles of people, but instead just chilled out in one of our new friend’s apartment, ate some Thai food, had some good conversation, and passed out by 11:00. Actually, it was just what I needed.
(And I scored boatloads of hangers; everything IS much more expensive here, so that was a huge bonus. On that note, I suppose that which we need to buy – food – is way more expensive, especially if you’re trying to buy western items, i.e. Heinz ketchup and Bertolli pasta sauce. Michael and I tend to be more than happy to buy the local brands, but the grocery stores to which we’ve been taken tend to be the more expensive ones due to the fact that we’re at the mercy of others to get places, the cheaper places are further away, and Ramadan screws up all the hours shops are open at convenient times for us. Mark that as one more check in the “getting a car as soon as freakin’ possible” column, which will still most likely be in December. Don’t even get me started on the lack of “green thinking” and sustainability in Kuwait; I’ll save that for another post. Suffice it to say that when you can fill up an SUV – like a Hyundai Tucson – for 3 KD, or less than $12 U.S. dollars, it doesn’t exactly encourage conservation).
The good conversations on Thursday night involved a number of returning teachers so we learned some interesting tidbits of information. Lots of recommendations for joining the Hilton (we should be able to join as a couple for a cheaper rate even though we’re not married and take advantage of the gym, beach, and pool – which allows western beach attire). People seem to save varying amounts of money here based on how much or little they travel and we received lots of recommendations for travel (Istanbul, Amman, Prague, Budapest, and maybe Southeast Asia for the holidays). I suppose we do fall into the “dinks” category at the moment – double income, no kids – so we’ll focus on paying down tons of student loan/credit card debt. We hadn’t originally planned on a car right away, but the lack of independence is getting to us; we still won’t have our Kuwaiti driver’s licenses until around December, so that expense is a little ways off (a lease on a nice little Peugeot hatchback will probably run us 105 KD/month or we could hunt around for a cheap used car; the jury’s still out on that one, but Michael could probably fix most car problems himself).
I think we may be saving the big cultural excursions and experimenting until after we’ve had a little more down time. One of the elementary resource teachers was nice enough to pile a bunch of us in her car on Friday to go grocery shopping…we have food again! Woo hoo! We actually had burgers for linner (lunch/dinner…it made it feel like we were back home) and planned to go to the Friday market to scope out nice carpets and other fun apartment items, but exhaustion got the better of us and the pool reigned supreme. We brought home a shower curtain and rod Friday night (a purchase I’d been dying to make), only to find out it didn’t fit. With a little ingenuity (or “MacGyvering”) we used the outside plastic shell of an Xbox 360 power supply case, a Pepsi bottle cap, and yellow duct tape to secure the curtain in place. We’ll see how long that holds up. :-)
Since Michael has had more of his students, he’s already had some interesting parent conversations and invitations. One family invited Michael to dinner at their home sometime in the not-too-distant future; they’re also from Boston, both parents with doctorates, and the father turned down a job as the VP of Citibank to work as a head finance officer for the NY Stock Exchange. Another father offered to make Michael any suit he wanted since he’s a custom tailor (and also made a few side comments about the racial/class divides here in Kuwait). That discrimination and class structure is a little disconcerting to see, but we definitely seem to be caught up in that hierarchy. Kuwaitis are always at the top of the hierarchy, with Americans (or other white-collar workers close behind…engineers, oil executives, embassy officials, teachers, etc.). After that, different nationalities received different levels of discrimination and have jobs accordingly. For example, all the janitors and nannies seem to be Indian or Pakistani, while Filipinos and other “light-skinned” individuals work in service industries such as retail. It’s surreal to view so much diversity, but feel the same type of racial tension (but with different players) as in the states. From some of the stories women have told about being ogled or harassed (although not necessarily in unsafe ways), I feel very fortunate to have come to Kuwait with a male partner.
Okay, off to get ready for another week with the cutie pies in second grade…I’ll post more soon, and pictures when our high-speed connection is up and kickin’.
xoxo
Abby & Michael
Posted: September 5, 2009 / 2:30 (ish) p.m.
01 September 2009
One down, 172 to go…unless the Ministry has any say!
Just a quickie update to say we both had amazing days. Apparently the rumor mill proved correct for me – I started the day with 8 out of 19 second graders and then had one more child show up late and leave early; that does in fact round to a sterling 47%. Kids, come to school…I promise I don’t bite! I may be doing the first day mambo (maybe Star Wars style – parts four to six and then one to three!) for the next few weeks. Judging by the names from my roster, I suspect a number of students are MIA due to Ramadan.
Michael had 15 out of 18 in his fifth grade class. We’re still amazed at the low numbers; the school starts to get antsy if the class sizes grow much larger than 20. Word. Some of the stories Michael came home with about the brilliance of his kids really gave us a new perspective on teaching out of poverty. I suspect I’ll see a wider range in abilities than Michael because I’m teaching second; kids tend to move around more, come in with different strengths and gaps depending on where they were for kinder and first (I’ll write more about my little German jumping bean in another post!), and can get into the school because of “watsa” (not so sure on that spelling, but the Arabic way of saying you have influence or pull, even if your kid doesn’t score so hot on the entrance exam). In Michael’s class, one student listed “sirloin steak” as his favorite food on his “All About Me” poster (thanks to my mom for that one a couple years ago – that icebreaker activity has gone over really well here at ASK). Another child explained that she believed one of the class rules should address that students shouldn’t slight other people’s religions. Yeah, um, using the word “slight” in its correct context never happened for me while I was teaching fifth. It was a little hectic at the end knowing where kids were headed (there are busses for kids from the embassy and Chevron, parents and nannies picking up, what have you); but all in all, a really great day.
Besides, Michael looked quite dapper in his dress pants, shirt, and tie, although I might be a little biased about that.
12 more days of teaching and then 7 off; yeah, we know, we’re lucky. :-)
xoxo
Abby & Michael
Because of the discrepancy in posting dates/times: September 1, 2009 / 6:30 (ish) p.m.
Michael had 15 out of 18 in his fifth grade class. We’re still amazed at the low numbers; the school starts to get antsy if the class sizes grow much larger than 20. Word. Some of the stories Michael came home with about the brilliance of his kids really gave us a new perspective on teaching out of poverty. I suspect I’ll see a wider range in abilities than Michael because I’m teaching second; kids tend to move around more, come in with different strengths and gaps depending on where they were for kinder and first (I’ll write more about my little German jumping bean in another post!), and can get into the school because of “watsa” (not so sure on that spelling, but the Arabic way of saying you have influence or pull, even if your kid doesn’t score so hot on the entrance exam). In Michael’s class, one student listed “sirloin steak” as his favorite food on his “All About Me” poster (thanks to my mom for that one a couple years ago – that icebreaker activity has gone over really well here at ASK). Another child explained that she believed one of the class rules should address that students shouldn’t slight other people’s religions. Yeah, um, using the word “slight” in its correct context never happened for me while I was teaching fifth. It was a little hectic at the end knowing where kids were headed (there are busses for kids from the embassy and Chevron, parents and nannies picking up, what have you); but all in all, a really great day.
Besides, Michael looked quite dapper in his dress pants, shirt, and tie, although I might be a little biased about that.
12 more days of teaching and then 7 off; yeah, we know, we’re lucky. :-)
xoxo
Abby & Michael
Because of the discrepancy in posting dates/times: September 1, 2009 / 6:30 (ish) p.m.
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