Egypt (and my Birthday!)

While the east coast was suffering through icy winter temperatures, I snuck out of Beirut for a few days and made for an even sunnier spot: Egypt! Jeff and I were able to get away for nearly a week during the short semester break, and it was a wonderful trip.
 
As we prepared to land in Cairo, Jeff reminded me that Egypt is, in fact, in Africa. I know I shouldn't need to be reminded of such things, but in the excitement of preparing to see the pyramids and such, I overlooked the fact that I would be visiting a continent I've never seen before. That made stepping off the plane into the Cairo sunshine all the more exciting.
 
We got up early the next morning and headed for Giza to see the pyramids and the Sphinx. Jeff's friend Paula had forewarned us that the approach to the pyramids is not a long and dusty walk through the desert, but rather a simple cab ride through what looks like just another urban neighborhood. And that's exactly right: before I even knew to look for them, there the pyramids were, looming large over the bustling streets of Giza. Our timing was perfect: we arrived before the hoards of tour buses and were able to ascend the steep and very small chute up into the burial chamber of the Great Pyramid. It was really neat being up inside the structure that I had seen so many times in photos. When we got into the burial chamber there was a group of New Age Scandinavian tourists meditating and doing what looked like yoga while communing with...something or other. After we had our look around, we descended the chute, only this time there were big groups of tourists coming up the other way. I didn't think we'd fit, but we did. It was pretty tight, though. After looking at the pyramids, we walked down to see the Sphinx. It was just as neat as I'd imagined. I especially like the way its tail wraps all the way around its back.
 
Once back in Cairo, we saw some neat old Coptic Christian churches, and also visited a mosque. I'd never been in one before, and had to buy a scarf to put over my head before I went in. Jeff went in the men's side, and I went in the women's side. The women's side was a tiny room jam-packed with women looking through a plexiglass window at some object (possibly the Quran, but I couldn't get close enough to tell) in a silver cage. The men's side sounded a lot more spacious. In any case, the blue sparkly scarf stayed with me for the rest of the trip. You never know when you'll need to cover up!
 
As if our legs weren't tired enough after climbing around inside the pyramid, we spent the next day walking through the immense and mildly disorienting Egyptian Museum. We made a beeline for the royal mummy room and checked out all the meticulously preserved bodies of the pharohs. It was pretty astounding to see how well preserved they were, though the comments on the exhibits about how decayed King So-and-so's teeth were struck me as mildly rude. How would you like to have tourists looking at your cavities after you're gone?!
 
We were about to leave the museum thinking we'd seen everything when we stumbled upon the room containing all the treasure from King Tut's tomb. Seeing the gold mask of the boyish King Tut was really powerful: again, it was something I'd seen images of for years, so it was really neat to see it.
 
The next day we took a cab ride out to some even more ancient sites: the step pyramid of Sakkara, which predates those at Giza (note: Jeff took the above nice photo of it!), and some pyramids in Dashur. We climbed way down into the burial chamber of that pyramid, and got caught in a sandstorm when we got out, with the wind blowing grit everywhere. We sought refuge in our cab and went next to the museum at Memphis. No, there was no bust of Elvis in Memphis, but there was a statue of Ramses II, also known as Ozymandius. The Shelley sonnet of the same name was inspired by a different statue, but I couldn't help thinking of it just the same.
 
The other neat thing about that day was that it was my birthday. I thought about the same day one year before when I was eating homemade chocolate cake and watching "Life on Mars" with my friend Karen in Maine (thanks, Karen!). That night as Jeff and I stood and watched the Nile flow by, I felt very fortunate to have friends and adventures on multiple continents.
 
The rest of the trip was great, too: climbing up into the minaret of a mosque and seeing the city stretched out before us, watching men balance huge trays of flatbread on their heads, and wandering through a colorful and chaotic market. It was a great way to spend my birthday, too. Maybe I'll try for a new continent next year!

More about Jordan

Fall semester has finally ended. We now get about a week and a half off and then plunge headlong into spring semester. The two and a half week break back in December (all the breaks here seem to begin and end mid-week for some reason) and our trip to Jordan seem like an eternity ago. Nonetheless, I wanted to write a bit more about some of the neat things we saw there.
 
My last post shows me dipping a toe into the Jordan River; above is a photo of the river just meandering along. We stopped to see it at a place called Bethany-Beyond-the-Jordan, where legend has it that Jesus was baptized by John the Baptist. Because the site is right on the border with Israel (or "the government to the south," as the Lebanese say), visitors have to take a guided tour so we don't accidentally wander across. The armed Israelis on the other side of the river made it look pretty forbidding. It felt a bit strange being so close to Israel: Lebanon and many other Middle Eastern countries won't let you in if you have an Israeli stamp in your passport, so I just figured I'd never see it. But there it was, right across the muddy water of the river Jordan. Our visit was a couple days before the start of the Gaza massacre, otherwise I bet it would've felt even more awkward being so near.
 
Another interesting site that looms large in the imagination is Mt. Nebo. The name might not sound familiar, but Nebo is the mountaintop where the 120-year-old Moses is thought to have stood and gazed upon the promised land. I'm sure the above sign wasn't there in Moses's day to obstruct his view, but I suspect the landscape beyond it looks much the same. It was really windy up there. I'm sure the next time I hear Dr. King's "I Have a Dream" speech, I'll think of the windy summit of Mt. Nebo.
 
In addition to standing on lofty mountaintops, we also visited the lowest place on Earth: the Dead Sea. The Lonely Planet says that "compared to ocean water, the Dead Sea has 20 times more bromine, 15 times more magnesium, and 10 times more iodine." We of course had to take a dip in its salty waters, and it was really amazing how buoyant it was. The signs posted at the swimming area tell you to crouch down and lean backwards to get into the water; if you go in leaning forward, the buoyancy lifts your legs up and tilts you face-first into the brine. Once in the water, you can lean back as if you are sitting in a chair and the water just holds you there. It was really relaxing. If you float on your back, the water lifts you up so high it feels like it is trying to spit you out. And of course, I couldn't resist trying on some of the mud. There are little vats of mud here and there in the swimming area, as the minerals in Dead Sea mud are supposed to give you healthy skin. All I got was muddy, but it was really fun.
 
All in all, it was a wonderful trip. The only question now is whether I will finish my grading and course prep in time to take another quick trip somewhere else before the start of spring semester!

Jordan

If you've been following world news lately, I'm sure you've heard about the awful situation in Gaza. You may have also heard about the world-wide demonstrations in solidarity with the people of Gaza and protests against the U.S.-supported Israeli invasion. Perhaps you saw footage of the crowd demonstrating outside the U.S. Embassy in Beirut.
 
I, too, saw it all on tv from the relative calm of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan, one of the most stable countries in the Middle East. Jordan is south of Lebanon, just north of Saudi Arabia, and a stone's throw from Israel and Palestine. Ironically, I was closer to the conflict than I'd ever been before, yet felt more distanced from it than I would have had I been in Beirut. While floating serenely in the Dead Sea (which was so neat that it warrants its own blog entry!) and basking in the Jordanian sunshine, I could see the West Bank on the opposite shore. It was unnerving to think that I was vacationing while the people of Gaza were suffering so nearby. 
 
When Jeff and I returned to Beirut this afternoon, we were the only westerners on the flight from Amman. I admit that I felt a little apprehensive about returning to Beirut, and wondered what sort of atmosphere we'd find there. However, as we flew low over Lebanon's snow-capped mountains and saw the sunlight sparkling off the Mediterranean Sea, I realized that I was glad to be back.
 
I'll write more soon about Jordan's ruins, the desert, the Red Sea, the Dead Sea, the camels, the cats, and the amazing winter sunshine. In the meantime, above is a sneak preview of some of the photos from the trip. There's a sand dune near Wadi Rum in the south, me sticking my toe in the Jordan River, and Jeff by a road sign. Here's hoping for peace in 2009.

Feliz Navidad

While New England was blanketed in snow, Beirut got lashed with sheets of Christmas Eve rain. On Tuesday, the surf on the AUB beach was crashing like I'd never seen it--breakers sending sea spray way up into the air and wetting the wide, empty Corniche sidewalk. The high surf and windy conditions must have been harbingers of wet weather, because Christmas Eve was pretty soggy. At one point Jeff and I donned our hiking pants and rain gear for a little stroll along the Corniche. Just as we reached the seaside, it started to downpour. Between the wind and the rain, we were both completely soaked in seconds, so we acknowledged defeat and headed back home for a couple bottles of 961 beer (Lebanon's only microbrew, named after the country's telephone prefix) and some stir-fried local chicken.
 
A couple nights ago, though, the weather was conducive to a walk downtown. All the downtown shops were decked out in lights and glittery decorations. As we strolled through Martyr's square, we noticed that there was a brightly-lit Christmas tree across from the big blue-domed mosque (Jeff took the above photo). We also spotted a sign for "Santa's Village" outside a white tent. We ducked inside and found pretty much what you'd expect to find in the U.S.: lots of little kids lining up to sit on Santa's lap, popcorn for sale, and tables where weary parents could sit and sip coffee. At one end of the tent was a stage where a group of cheerful little girls in santa hats bounced around and danced to "Feliz Navidad." Of all the languages I hear daily in Beirut, this was the first time I'd heard Spanish. As we turned to leave we walked past a group of kids and adults buying manouchi (flatbread sandwiches) warmed on the dome-shaped saj grill. When we got back out into the open air we could see the mosque and the Christmas tree both lit up against the night sky. 
 
Santa, a saj, a Christmas tree, a mosque, and perhaps even a lawn gnome--just a few of the things one can see at Christmastime in Beirut. It's almost enough to make me forget to miss the snow!

Gifts

Tis the season for holiday decorating here in Beirut. There are blinking Christmas trees everywhere you look. The other day I saw a woman in a traditional Muslim headscarf leading her little boy by the hand as he proudly wore a big cardboard Christmas tree on his head. The fancy hotel where I spent my first four days in town has an interesting little display out front. They have a model of a rustic-looking cabin surrounded by fake snow, with animals lying down outside of it. At first it looked like a manger scene, but upon closer inspection there is no Mary, Joseph, or baby Jesus. Instead, inside the cabin is Santa, and outside the cabin, hanging out with the model sheep and deer, are a bunch of lawn gnomes! It is a perfect Beirut holiday decoration--nondenominational and slightly surreal.
 
On another merry note, I got a phone call at work on Friday from a frazzled-sounding delivery man saying in that I had flowers to be delivered. After explaining to him where I was, and after explaining that I could not just go and pick them up because I was meeting with students, he eventually found his way to my office bearing a huge, lovely poinsettia arrangement in a basket. I was so surprised and excited to see them. Upon opening the card, I saw that they were from my Auntie Wendy and Uncle Paul and their sons in Pennsylvania. How nice to know that they were thinking of me from so far away. After the delivery man politely refused to accept a tip, he started to leave my office. At the threshold he turned around and said, very slowly and carefully, "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!" as though he had been practicing that phrase for weeks!
 
Of course, Christmas and New Year are not the only important holidays this time of year. Winter Solstice is upon us, which means that the days all get longer from here on out, which sounds to me like a good reason to celebrate. Jeff and I celebrated Solstice eve last night by taking a stroll through the neighborhood and having dinner at a tiny little pasta restaurant with checkered tablecloths. It was a nice change from all the Lebanese food we'd been eating, and it also provided an opportunity for me to show off my new Solstice necklace in public. Before we left, Jeff handed me a festively-wrapped little pouch that rattled when shaken. He told me that he'd made my Solstice gift himself, which had me wondering what it could possibly be. When I opened the pouch I found a beautiful string of painted wooden beads on a black satin cord. In between the beads dangled three charms that were attached to the cord with silver wire. The middle charm was the metal plate that had been in Jeff's foot since early 2006, and on either side of it hung the screws that had held it in there. When he had them removed from his foot a few weeks before coming to Beirut, Jeff kept them, cleaned them up, and fashioned them into a necklace for me. I guess he didn't need to worry about whether or not I already had one! I love it, and can't wait to wear it to work.
 
Monday is the last day of class before our nearly three-week long winter break, and it feels festive over here, despite being so far from home. I wish everyone a happy holiday season, and may Santa and his gnomes be generous with you!
 

Lebanon Mountain Trail

On Sunday I awoke early to join a local hiking group for a hike on the first section of the Lebanon Mountain Trail (LMT). As I mentioned in a previous post, the LMT is a long-distance hiking trail that provides visitors with a scenic place to hike, and provides a bit of ecotourism revenue for the local villages along its route.
 
On Sunday we hiked the northernmost section of the trail, up near the northern border with Syria. The trailhead was a three-hour bus ride from Beirut. I had never been north of Beirut before, and thoroughly enjoyed the drive up the coast. We drove through the city of Tripoli, its buildings riddled with even more bullet holes than Beirut's, and through lots of little towns and villages. As luck would have it, Sunday was the day before the start of Eid al Adha, or the Muslim festival of sacrifice. As we got farther outside the city, I started noticing pens of sheep oddly placed in the center of the little towns we drove through. They seemed remarkably docile, and looked very, well, innocent. I then started to notice flayed sheep carcasses hanging from hooks outside little shops all along the way, with little kids and old people alike trimming the fat from the flesh and hosing the blood and fleece into the road. A tangle of traffic stopped us in one little town square just in time for me to witness a sheep getting its throat cut. I must have looked like a visitor on a Denali tour bus watching a grizzly bear--I'm sure my eyes were as big as saucers.
 
We stopped to pick up our local guide at the Mar Challita Monastery in the northern village of Akkar al-Atiqa. The monastery itself was lovely, built with huge blocks that had previously been used in a Roman temple. It honors the patron saint of shepherds, and I couldn't help but think of all the sheep being sacrificed at that moment.
 
We drove a few moments more, and then the bus dropped us off at the trailhead. It was a cool, sunny day, perfect for hiking. The terrain reminded me of the countryside I'd seen in the south on my previous hike: lots of terraced hillsides with crops of different sorts growing on them, and the occasional donkey wandering around. The views were lovely, and we could see Syria, seemingly only a stone's throw away. We hiked past farms, stands of cedar trees, and some interesting rock formations. One profile-shaped rock reminded me of New Hampshire's late Old Man of the Mountain. We even passed a carcass of what looked like a red fox, which are native to Lebanon.
 
We neared the end of our hike just as dusk began to descend around 4:30. A lovely sunset lit up the western sky, and despite the day's warmth, I noticed a dusting of snow on the mountains in the distance. The last stretch of trail took us past what first appeared to be another empty pasture. As we got closer, I spotted...a ferris wheel! Sure enough, a modest little amusement park lay there, abandoned and surreal in this isolated rural outpost. A sign proclaimed that we were strolling past "City Land." What else would one name an amusement park so far from any city!
 
It was just getting dark by the time we reached the bus. As we rolled through the darkness, each village that we passed seemed to have at least one well-lit barbershop where men were getting shaved and trimmed for the holiday. Some sheep carcasses still hung silently from their hooks, though the frantic activity in the villages had ceased. I slept most of the way back to Beirut, which seemed even bigger and more cosmopolitan after my glimpse of the northern villages...and "City Land," of course!
 

Holidays

Even though Thanksgiving came and went with absolutely no fanfare and no time off from work, I am pleased to say that I am heading into a four-day weekend. The long weekend is in celebration of Eid al Adha, or the festival of sacrifice. Eid al Adha comes at the end of the hajj, or the annual pilgrimage to Mecca, which has been going on for a few weeks now. A banner mentioning the hajj appeared near campus a bit before Thanksgiving.

Hajj banner.

Anyway, the al Adha holiday commemorates Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son to Allah (the story is a familiar one in the Christian tradition, too), and Allah's last-minute reprieve. Traditionally, the festival is celebrated by the ritual slaughter of a goat or sheep, with one third of the meat feeding the family, one third going to friends, and one third distributed among the needy. While I don't know of any ritual slaughters taking place in downtown Beirut, I will say that there has been a festive atmosphere since the beginning of December, when "Adha Mubarak" (or "Blessed Adha") signs and decorations began appearing around campus.

Adha decorations hanging up on campus.

The loop of green beads on the above sign resembles the Muslim prayer beads I see some older folks carrying. Note the sacrificial lamb in the picture.

I should point out that Beirut has plenty of Christmas decorations, too. Just today I saw some workers hanging red Christmas ornaments on a cedar tree on campus.

If you look closely, you can see the red ornaments on the tree.

I also had a funny Beirut moment last week when I noticed the local grocery store's big display of Christmas decorations for sale. It struck me as slightly odd to see them, as the grocery store does not sell alcohol, pork, or other haram (forbidden) things. As I walked around the store, marveling at the Christmas kitsch, I noticed a woman holding a Santa doll out at arm's length. The woman was in hejab, with a head scarf and a long, modest coat. The Santa doll was singing "Here Comes Santa Claus" over and over, ad nauseam, and the woman stared at it, transfixed. I couldn't tell whether she was horrified by the Christian tackiness, or whether she was contemplating taking it home for her mantelpiece. In Beirut, it could have gone either way.

Whether you're slaughtering a goat this weekend or still working on your turkey soup from last week, I wish you a festive start to the month of December!