Luxor and Hurghada

This past week we left for an excursion outside of Cairo. We flew first to historic Luxor for two days then spent three nights in a beach resort in the new tourist hot spot of Egypt; Hurghada. In Luxor we were led by a capable tour guide through ancient tombs and temples, as well as the luxor museum and even a place where they still make real papyrus. We rose early in the morning to beat the heat (my watch was reading 38°C by noon) then would spend the rest of the day chilling by the pool or in the shade of our balcony. We lunched at the local Egyptian falafel place.

Let's take a moment to talk about food. Our daily falafel cost us 5 Egyptians pound, which is just short of one American dollar in Zamelak, our home in Cairo, we can get it for 2. And its the best thing I've ever eaten. Why we wasted our time in the other restaurants for pizza, pasta, or rice is a mystery to me. (With the exceptions of crepes and bagels, my other main food groups). I also found McVities chocolate digestives in the store, the England crowd will appreciate my excitement over that find. But back to falafel. I would put up with the heat, the garbage, and even the occasional harassment just to eat that stuff everyday.

Anyway, after luxor we got back on a plane for Hurghada. Dear reader I will not lie to you. This second visit had not an ounce of educational value. We spent three days on the beach, swimming, playing frisbee, sunbathing (or for me reading and writing in the shade), snorkeling, eating at the hotel buffet, and more besides. Personally my favorite time was after dark when the other tourists had finally left the beach and the moon and stars (hidden from us in Cairo and Istanbul) shone accross the expanse of deep blue water. This is when I did most of my swimming too, despite the many jokes i recieved about eels and sharks in the night (Jakob, Ted, and Will it was much like our time at unistar... just... you know... in Egypt).

It was a great break for most of our group. I must admit I am not a huge beach person and began to grow restless by the third day. After all one can only apply spf 50 sunscreen so many times in a day before starting to resent the sun. Not that I will complain, I must admit we had a little chuckle to ourselves when we realized most of our friends would be in class during our afternoon swim. Alas such things can not last and we have returned to Cairo and our hectic schedule once again.

More to follow soon. Pictures too. Also heads up to those who use my st. Olaf email address. I can receive emails and reply to threads but can not generate emails since Olaf is blocking my contacts from being downloaded to my kindle (go figure). I'm trying to get some addresses through stalkernet so I can email my friends. Until I figure it out just assume I'm ok and am not neglecting you!

- JT

Tatooine pt. 1

"Say what you like about Egyptians but don't ever question their religion. We are talking about a people who refuse to represent the prophet Muhammad, even in their own art. To have a film degrading this holy figure is... uncomprehendable for them." -Our Egyptian Professor on the first day of class

We have made it to Egypt. I will start by reassuring everyone that I am completely safe. We are living on an island surrounded by the Nile, called Zamelak. It is very secluded and very wealthy, Doug calls it the 'Manhattan of Cairo'. We are living in the dormitories for the AUC (American univeristy of Cairo). They have strict rules including completely segregated rooms, bag checks, and armed guards just to name a few. To us these rules seem ridiculously harsh, but perhaps parents are reassured by the added security (I asked whether it was to keep rioters out or for controlling students, but our guide choose not to answer). We've had class everyday, ate at all the local restaurants, and played basketball in the yard (me and Conner are dominating despite our team being made up of a ginger and a Brit). We have promised not to leave the island, and for the most part have complied.

Not that we haven't seen the results from the riots. We get TV just like everyone else. And we've seen the effects. Perhaps later I will share my experiences and my reflections, but for now its just enough to say that this American who promoted this video has brought shame to the entire nation of the US and has made our trip, unfortunately, a little less pleasent. (I will share a picture of one of the buildings burned in the January riots, which were obviously far worse).

 Lets move on to happier things. I've had fresh fruit for breakfast every day (mostly kiwi's and mangoes) and we don't have to worry about cockroaches, spiders, and other bugs since Conner (my roommate) found a gecko in his shorts the first day. In honor of Eddard Stark we have named him Ned, and he will protect us. Class has been really interesting, however after two classes of Arabic I am still unable to do more than order and say thank you. The Egyptians have been really nice on the island, a woman helped us get a cab to the museum yesterday and rode with us so we wouldn't get overcharged (the price? 1 US dollar for the whole cab ride). After playing basketball yesterday one of the staff brought out a soccer ball. "Talaata rikibt waahid" he said, by which he meant three on one, a well known soccer drill. My two friends raised the eyebrows at me, he was a larger man after all. But I have played with Jorge enough at this point not to judge by appearance and sure enough he had us chasing the ball in no time, despite his flip-flops.

The sites have not disappointed either. I could easily spend another day at the museum, seeing everything from the mummies, to statues, to giant statues, to walls full of hieroglyphs. The pyramids and the sphinx, while clichéd, were amazing. If it wasn't for our run-ins with the merchants and swindlers, I would never leave. Camel riding was perhaps my favorite part of the day. I felt like I was on Tatooine, surrounded by all the sand-dunes. (Plus my camel would make a wookie sound everytime I scratched his head). We wanted to rent camels for the day after that and just ride out into the desert. (I've been reading t.e. Lawrences seven pillars of wisdom so I totally would too.)

Well that's enough for now. We leave on a 6 day excursion tomorrow so I'll have more to share when we return. Hopefully the riots will be all done by then!

 -JT

Turkey Trot

Tea Sugar and Dreams 

    That was how our tour guide told us to say thank you in Turkish (After we had several failed attempts to repeat the actual phrase, apparently if you say 'tea sugar and dreams' fast enough it's passable). It turned into a good symbol for all of Istanbul. The Turkish drink copious amounts of tea, and it's difficult to drink without a few cubes of sugar. As for the dreams.... well who hasn't dreamed of visiting Istanbul.
     The colors, the noise, the smell, the crowds, a sprawling city with a skyline dotted with historic mosques. This was just our first small taste of Istanbul. Yet at the beginning it was hard for me to see what everyone had raved about. Perhaps my expectations were too high, after all I had several people tell me it was their favorite city in the world. At the beginning it just seemed like a typical loud city, bursting at the seems with too many people (needless to say I was in for a surprise when we arrived in Cairo). Plus we had been placed in the most touristy part of the city, and all the street fenders and waiters all spoke English. Its not like I didn't like the city, I just didn't understand what was so great about it. We had seen the famous palace, the serene blue mosque, the historical hippodrome, the iconic whirling dervishes, and the grandiose Hagia Sophia in the first two days. 'What will we do for the next three days?' I wondered. How naive of me.

     The turning point came, ironically, at a moment of crisis. We had gone to Tahrir Squire to check out the night life (if you like clubbing don't miss it, if you'd rather not have your eardrums blown out of the back of your head by pop-music give it a pass). Me and two of the girls decided to try to make it back before the last bus (at 12). Everyone else decided to stay and hang with the term in the middle east group and take a taxi home later. Normally, when we take public transportation, Sudip takes over and we just blindly follow him. However I was Sudip-less and felt confident navigating the complex, unintelligible Turkish bus system. Predictably I led us in the completely wrong direction and we had only 10 minutes to make the very last tram. An older gentleman took notice of our plight and asked us where we were heading. I pointed desperately in the general direction of our hotel on the map. He told us that we might make it if we took the blue line transfer line. It meant nothing to me. The bus eased to a stop. 'Follow me, quickly" he said. I hesitated for a long second then nodded, at this point we didn't have much choice. He raced off a long corridor as soon as the doors slid open, us struggling to keep up. He took a left, then another left, then a right. Soon I was completely lost, but suddenly we there. We stumbled onto the tram with seconds left. I barely able to get out a 'thank you' as the doors slid close between us. He just smiled and waved. The tram slipped away from the station and I sunk into my seat, hard in thought.
      I had misjudged the people here. With 22 girls all I could see was interior motives behind the words of every man we met. But I had been wrong. Sure they wanted to sell us their crap, but they're just trying to make a living just like everyone else. Sometimes can be nice just to be nice, and Turkish people are some of the friendliest I'be met. They are proud of their country as flags dominate the skyline. The are a religious and pious people, called to pray five times a day, something me and Doug were fortunate enough to see during a day trip to Bursa. If you ever get a chance to see a Muslim prayer I highly recommend it, their devotion, concentration, and meditation is incredible. And we noticed this as tourists, outsiders looking in. We became friends with the waiter at the restaurant at our hotel who joked with us, gave us the best seats, served us free apple tea, and even turned on the England game for me one night. On a bus ride I met another Turkish man who asked me about our trip, advised me where to go in Turkey, and even offered me his pomegranate. Of course, it wasn't all perfect. One waiter tricked some of our group into buying a $50 bottle of wine (expensive here). But overall, the people of Turkey have gained my respect and my thanks.
       As my view of the people changed so did my perspective of the city. In the mornings we woke up and had tea outside in the roof and watched Istanbul wake up. During the day we explored the city, inhaling the sights and smells of the spice market, wondering at the underground cistern that first moved water for the city in 600 AD (this was a personal favorite of mine), and playing frisbee on the sand next to the black sea (I am now able to say I crossed from Europe to Asia on a bus, all without leaving Istanbul city limits). In the end I wanted more days in Istanbul, not less. Sadly we have moved on to Cairo but one day I think I'll return Turkey. I'd still like to see Gallipoli, Troy, Pamukkale, and of course Ephesus. But for now I'll put that aside and enjoy Egypt.

 -JT

 (I'll try to put more pictures up soon. Its hard since I don't have a computer with me. I'll even put a few of me in. I just figured people wouldn't want me getting in the way of the sights).

The UN

     The United Nations. A global institution that that hosts an impressive array of humanitarian groups and committees. Most people who come to Geneva come to work or see the UN and, appropriately, the buildings and the grounds took up a large portion of the city where we were living. The security was as comprehensive as any airport, more so since we had to wear identity badges. Whoever had paid the bills (as it turns out, mostly Spain) had spared no expense. The many chambers of the new wing were grand and beautifully decorated. Artwork donated from various countries lined the walls. Peacocks wandered the lush, carefully maintained grass. The cafeteria offered a variety of familiar and ethnic dishes. Like all of Switzerland the entire place was disturbingly clean. Needless to say we were impressed by our tour.
      But I had come to Switzerland witha difficult question on my lips, and the shiny interior did nothing to address my worries that the United Nations had become disconnected from the problems we were sure to see first hand during the rest of our trip. They say that once three Swiss are gathered a meeting is sure to follow, and a committee follows. We saw first hand the truth of this. Over a series of one hour presentations we heard from representatives from the UN council on human rights, the UNDP (United Nations Development Progrramme), the WFP, and OCHA. As one speaker joked, they like their abbreviations. There was a good deal of positive news from these meetings. They had measured progress to report after explaining the roles of their organizations, and almost every presenter mentioned their contribution to achieving the MDG's (Millinnium Development Goals, designed to improve health and decrease poverty by 2015). However most of these sessions was still someone in a suit spouting facts, figures, and statistics. The most encouraging was our visit to the World Food Program. The lady who spoke to us gave it straight, she told us the scope of the problem and the limits of the organization. She explained that they moved office every 4 years, that 90 of their employees were in the field, and of those working in the office almost all had been on site several times in their life. She told of her own experiences, telling us about a riot she had witnessed during a food distribution. She said she could not be expected to do her job if she became disconnected from the problem, and that she bated being in Switzerland doing logistics but someone had to do it. This was exactly what I needed to hear. Perhaps there is hope after all.

 -JT

France?!

       We had the entire afternoon free this Sunday. The general consensus was that everybody wanted to see the Alps. Fortunately, our bus passes allowed us to travel right to the edge of the city. From there it was a short walk across the Switzerland-French border and enter France. We arrived at the bottom of our destination, Mt. Saleve and faced a choice. Pay 4 euros to take the cable car up, or face the long climb. In the end, only me and four other brave souls decided to brave the accent. It was a tough climb, rising over 700 meters from the bottom, the path alternating between switchback dirt paths and crumbling stone staircases. We were out of breath immediately, barely being able to gasp out a 'bonjour' to the natives who piratically sprinted past us. (Including young children, chain-smokers, and old ladies.) But we were rewarded with beautiful scenery, breathtaking views, and a lovely little village called Monnetier. By Monnetier we were already hopelessly lost, but luckily we found a woman who spoke some English by the town church, and she pointed us in the right direction. We asked how long it would take. She paused, looking us over. All of us in our American garb, me in my five-fingers, cameras clutched tightly in our hands. 'For you... one hour, probably more.' We thanked her and hurried away before our tourist looks brought forth any of that famous French disdain towards foreigners waving maps in their faces.
       We reached the top, and decided that since it was 4, naturally it was time for lunch. We had purchased bread and cheese and chocolate the night before, and after the hike that kind of food was exactly what we needed. Some of the group expressed a desire to handglide down (an activity very popular with native thrill-seekers) but the winds had picked up and they had cancelled the flights for that afternoon. We settled with watching the experts float higher and higher on the breeze, and laid back in the afternoon sun. At 5:30, we ran into one of the other groups and decided to hike up to the Budist monestary together. Again we were pleasently surprised to discover that the view got better the higher we got. The monestary was everything we expected, prayer flags fluttering in the wind, monks going around doing their chores, a little building on the hill housing a colorful interior and shrine. At this point I did not want the day to end. I suggested walking down the mountain on the opposite side, which, according to our map, was a five hour hike. Only the original 4 agreed. We walked past the monestary and after 10 minutes arrived on the best landscape of the night, a perfect snapshot of rural France. We were surrounded on three sides by the Alps, the fourth side overlooked the valley that contained Geneva (a valley that is surrounded by mountains). All around us stretched beautifully pastures, fields of wheat, and grazing French cattle. We could have spent the rest of the day there. As I watched a local farmer and his son walking the fenceline, checking on their herds while the occasional cloud floated just above our heads, I could have spent the rest of my life there. But it was getting dark and regretfully we moved away and headed down the mountains. We stopped in the nearby village for directions again. As we departed the little village with a chorus of 'desoles' and 'merci's' I was forced to accept that maybe not all of France was so bad after all. Everyone we'd met so far had been friendly and helpful. By the time we made it to the bottom dusk had descended and it was totally dark as we made our way along quiet roads back to the bus station, crossing safely back into Switzerland without incident. We slept well that night, amazed that we had just added France to our long list of countries. 6 hours of hiking, 5 little French towns, 1 orcherd that is now short 5 apples, and my first strong connection with my fellow globalites.
 A pretty good second day.
 -JT

(The pıcture should gıve you some idea of the vıew. We spent a lot of tıme settıng up those rocks to get a pıc of Han climbing too. We got some stares from the locals... but ıt was worth ıt)

The beginning of a long journey

I have successfully arrived in Geneva. After only one delay, we made it through Newark and met up with the rest of our companions at our destination. For us it was 1:30 am, but in Geneva it was mid-morning and a bus was waiting to take us on a tour of the city. Stifling yawns, we boarded and put our best game faces on. Perhaps it was the rain. Perhaps it was the mixture of old archetecture combined with the new. Perhaps it was just all the scaffolding. But my first look at Geneva reminded me of England.

We made it through the morning seeing churches, beautiful city streets, statues, and a woman carrying an owl. We lunched by a vineyard out in the country. After lunch we drove to our overnight housing (passing CERN), a place not far from the UN headquarters, since at that point we were to tired to attempt anything else. So here I am, after being up for the past 30+ hours, writing this blog since sleeping before dinner will just make my adjustment to the new timing that much harder. Given my current state I doubt this blog entertaining or interesting. But I thought everyone would want to know that I made it. (This keyboard that I am using has the z where the y should be to make room for funny French accents and things. It is driving me crayz. Never knew how much french the good people of Geneva used, perhaps I should have learned to say more than Merci and Bonjour during my three years learning the language.)

till next time.
-JT

 Pictures are of us at MSP airport, and of Captain Solo in front of the New York skyline and in front of mountains surronding Geneva. Hope there is enough detail to highlight that.