Day 5: Western Wall, Jericho, Hezekiah's Tunnel

A few stories:

We went to Jericho, to the "tell", which is simply a pile of rubble and dirt but also is the site of the oldest tower in the history of the world. Also, the rubble there is 10,000 years old according to carbon-14 dating (which, Tim reminded me, is of the devil since it refutes creationism). Anywho, it was really hot up on the tell so a group of Palestinians (including our guide) offered to hold the baby while we went up. I relented, but then when I was halfway up I got worried and went back because Amir kind of usually freaks out when we aren't around. When I got to the bottom I could not find them anywhere, and I would have gotten worried but our guide is awesome and I totally trust him. I finally found them sitting in a little cafe, Amir in a high chair, eating contently with the guide. I was amazed at how calm and at ease he was, and it was really funny to see him there all natural-like eating some hummus and pita. So, now we know who gets Amir if we die: our Palestinian friend who has now become on of his favorite people.




Second story: Hezekiah's Tunnel is a narrow, water-filled tunnel that extends from the City of David. It was carved by human hands in order to keep water diverted to the city in a way in which it could not be cut off by enemy groups. It's mentioned in the Bible in several places:

"And the rest of the acts of Hezekiah, and all his might, and how he made a pool, and a conduit, and brought water into the city, are they not written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Judah?" 2 Kings 20:20
"And when Hezekiah saw that Sennacherib was come, and that he was purposed to fight against Jerusalem, He took counsel with his princes and his mighty men to stop the waters of the fountains which were without the city: and they did help him. So there was gathered much people together, who stopped all the fountains, and the brook that ran through the midst of the land, saying, Why should the kings of Assyria come, and find much water?" 2 Chronicles 32:2-4
"This same Hezekiah also stopped the upper watercourse of Gihon, and brought it straight down to the west side of the city of David. And Hezekiah prospered in all his works." 2 Chronicles 32:30

It was excavated in the 19th century and you can walk through the whole thing. It was tight, cramped, the water was freezing, but it was SO NEAT. Amir slept in the mei tai through the whole experience until the end, which was nice because then he wouldn't freak out in the dark (it's completely pitch-black) but also sad because he loves touching walls and he would have been in heaven with the cramped space we were walking through and all the textured walls. We emerged triumphant at the end, because the Israeli tourism guard person recommended we not take a baby down there. He obviously has never met OUR baby.

Third story: Out of order, but still. Prior to Hezekiah's Tunnel, we were in a visitor's center looking at different models. There was a cut out in the floor that was completely glass, and our friend David set Amir on the glass and he crawled around and LOVED it. And if he loved it, the tourists and BYU people loved it even more, they were snapping pictures like he was going out of style. It really was hilarious to stand underneath and see him going crazy crawling around and putting his face to the glass and laughing at all the attention. We didn't have our camera, so we'll have to get a picture from a friend and post it. Maybe could have been one of my favorite moments of his.

Some random photos:

Hisham's Palace: there is apparently a really rad mosaic floor, the oldest and largest mosaic floor in history. They show it to you in this video at the visitor's center before you go in, and then you are all excited to see it until you find it's actually covered with 6 inches of dirt to preserve it, and you don't see anything. PRETTY LAME, if you ask me.


Elimination communication, Umayyad-style.






We ended the day with a lovely little jaunt in the JC fountain. He screamed when we took him away.

Day 4: Tour of Old City

The days are all starting to run together and I'm going to be leaving things out but there is little time to blog! We are so dead tired when we get back to our hotel room in the evening after full days of walking and seeing and wrestling (a baby in a bus). I really want to document it all though, and since I'm a terrible journal writer this is my only way.

Our first full day in Jerusalem involved touring the classic Jerusalem-y sites including the religious sites like Dome of the Rock and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. It was a long day and I don't remember terribly much about it, nothing really stands out too much. The Dome of the Rock is stunning, but you cannot enter unless you are Muslim (which we are not, though we have contemplated converting).

We went St. Anne's Church and sang hymns. That was pretty neat and the acoustics were great. We walked from there down the Via Dolorosa, the path that Jesus carried his cross to Golgotha. We visited a few churches on the way, each signifying a certain aspect of the passion of Christ. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre (where Golgotha and the tomb most likely were) was dark, dank, and very un-spiritual. The guidebook said of it: "those come to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre empty and wish to be filled... they leave desolate." It just was not a very nice place, and it is full of contention. Different orthodox churches (Catholic, Russian, Armenian, Coptic, Ethiopian) claim different areas, and it is taboo to encroach. And maybe taboo is a soft word, because they get downright violent. Something funny is that there is a ladder leading to the roof but no one will claim that territory so it has been there for like a 100 years or something. Also there is a stair that belongs to one church but the patio belongs to another so the patio gets swept but the stair doesn't. Since the churches couldn't agree on who gets to lock up the Church at night, a Muslim family has done it for like 10 generations.

Day 3: Israel

We left Dahab at the wee hours of the morn and headed across the Sinai towards the Israeli border town of Eliat (which, incidentally, had rockets launched at it the day before). We then began the arduous process of border crossing. First, we had to haul all of our luggage through the neutral zone, through the Egyptian security side and on to the Israeli side. We realized we have entirely too much stuff and we will be donating much of it before we leave Jerusalem. At the Israeli security side, some of our co-travelers were questioned, their bags searched, and their passports temporarily confiscated, but we were fortunate and made it through with no incident. We had one guy traveling with us who is Filipino, born and raised in Saudi Arabia, and looks slightly like an Arab. He had some trouble, but much less than we expected so the whole experience only took 2 hours as opposed to the 6 or so we could have expected.

The Israeli border patrol guards were mainly young women in skinny black jeans. They were all absolutely beautiful. A very different site from the middle-aged male Egyptian guards.

After we crossed the border, we loaded up on our Israeli bus, and let me tell you, all of us were stunned. It is spacious, clean, and all of our luggage actually fit underneath! Imagine!

We then went and saw one site, Masada, on the way to Jerusalem. We drove past the Dead Sea and through the lovely Israeli eastern wilderness. The roads were windy, and Israel is much more mountainous than I expected. Masada was pretty spectacular; it's a fortress/palace built by King Herod, but was used by religious Jewish zealots as a retreat when the Romans invaded. When the Romans finally were able to penetrate the fortress by building a MASSIVE man-made ramp out of the dirt and stones surrounding the cliffs, they found everyone dead inside as a result of a mass suicide plan.

Amir enjoyed playing on the model, which was just his size.





Next we went to Qumran, the site where the Dead Sea Scrolls were discovered by a local Bedouin shepherd boy. It used to be a monastery of sorts for very religious Jews. Amir enjoyed some time off the bus and in the dirt.




We arrived at the Jerusalem Center in time for dinner. I could write an entire blog post about how awesome the food is. Really, I could. There were amazing vegetables, delectable salads, grilled chicken, fish, DESSERT. REAL DESSERT. Mmmmm. I didn't realize how deprived we have been all summer living off of lentils, rice, koshary, and the occasional ho-ho (and we ate fresh fruits and vegetables too but I never was able to cook anything THAT good since I didn't have spices and only one tiny pot). Wow. Luckily I forgot how good real food was this summer or I would have been miserable.

After dinner and a short film, we drove to our hotel close to the Jerusalem Center since babies are forbidden to stay there. The hotel is decent, though our A/C is broken and the beds are pretty uncomfortable. I was pretty upset the first night we were there, but I've since made peace with it and am enjoying the Jerusalem Center while we are there hanging out and eating dinner. It really is an incredible facility. Absolutely stunning view of the Old City from atop the Mt. of Olives. I can't believe the Church actually owns such an incredible spot.

Day 2: Dahab

We left St. Catherine's at six a.m. and headed straight to Dahab, a little resort-type town on the Red Sea. We arrived around 9:30, and quickly changed into our swimsuits for our snorkeling excursion. After traveling down a narrow road in Jeeps (ok, actually, everyone else was in Jeeps, a few of us were in a mini-bus, pretty interesting down the rocky road), we went to this great little cabana area where we were allowed to hang out and were fitted for our masks. It was comfy, but I didn't spend a lot of time there considering:

snorkeling (at one of the best spots in the world - The Blue Hole) has got to be one of the coolest things I've ever done. I love swimming, I love the ocean, I LOVE aquariums. It was like going to an aquarium, and jumping in the huge tank to swim with the fish. I was just going to type again that I loved it, but I think you probably have already gotten the picture. Speaking of pictures, we don't have any, but just trust me that I was in heaven almost 90% of the time after I got the hang of the mask and breathing tube thing. Tim went as well, which was awesome because he has a slight fear of swimming and especially of deep water. I wanted him to experience it though (and also it wasn't nearly as much fun being alone and besides there were 5 teenage boys following me and staring at me underwater), and he did, and I loved it and he probably only liked it a little but it was cool for him to do it with me. But also it was really nice that he didn't love it as much because then he could watch the babe while I snorkeled to my little heart's content. Shout-out to Sophie for watching him while Tim and I went together. Side note: Amir HATES waves. He freaked out and screamed every time we took him down to the water. Who would've thought?

After snorkeling, we hung out at the hotel pool (our hotel was called the "Tropitel Dahab Oasis", because obviously tropical+hotel=tropitel) and talked to some British people. We ate a delicious dinner at the hotel (I even ate some mushrooms because they looked yummy, and they didn't make me sick!) and settled down for the night early since we knew we'd be leaving at 4 am for the border.

More to come on the adventures at the border...

Day 1: Mt. Sinai

What a busy few days. We left Cairo Sunday morning at 5 am, and began the journey across the Sinai. The Sinai trip was long, but not too bad and Amir did great. He slept for most of it, and though we were incredibly cramped in the bus we survived and made it to St. Catherine's, the oldest functioning monastery in the world located at the base of Mt. Sinai.

We had a little time to rest before our ascent up Mt. Sinai, which we began at the hottest part of the day. The hike was much, much more strenuous than I had pictured, so we made it part of the way then fell back and gave up (I was hot and overheated, and so was the baby) with the pregnant couple and the older women. We still were able to experience some beautiful views of the valley where the Israelites supposedly waited for Moses while he ascended Mt Sinai to receive the Ten Commandments. At first I was thinking the Sinai would be a miserable place to wander for forty years, but it actually was pleasant. The night cooled down considerably, and it even rained a little after we returned from our hike - we were ecstatic at the sight of precipitation, having not seen a drop ALL summer. The rain made everything smell pleasant and fresh. I forgot how much I love rain.

We stayed in little hovels located near the monastery. They weren't the poshest accommodations (bugs, no A/C, etc.) but they were quaint. After the rain we went outside in the wonderful evening lighting for a family photo shoot.

I love breastfeeding in real-life too!

You all know how I love breastfeeding in theory. I was crazy about the idea of breastfeeding prior to my actually having a baby. I craved it even. I loved spouting out my knowledge of breastfeeding: the health benefits, the emotional benefits, the environmental benefits. I boycotted Nestle for a good three years in high school and college. Tim wrote a song about breastfeeding for me (I can't remember all the words exactly, but I know it goes something like: "she thinks formula is evil/wouldn't feed it to a dog/if you want to see her breastfeed/you can see it on her blog...")

And before I had a baby, I had a slightly inescapable fear of breastfeeding failure. I was so nervous that something would not work. But on the other hand I actually had complete and utter faith in my abilities as a woman to produce milk and the faith extended to my baby's ability to latch on. In the hospital, a number of woman tried to coach me since Amir was in the NICU and could not eat for the first 24 hours; I shooed them away (because actually, they were just getting in the way) and latched him right on and he was awesome. Tim took ample video and pictures (hundreds) of our blossoming breastfeeding relationship. We have some great pictures of the very first time, my little ball of flesh and bones all nestled up close to my chest. It was the moment I had anticipated and imagined for years. And it was as momentous as expected.

And to be honest, I've loved 99% of the moments. There has been biting, there's been mastitis (many, many times) and sore nipples and clogged ducts and nights where I'm exhausted and cannot bear the thought of waking up every two hours to feed my ten-month-old when we could have just stopped months ago and it would have been fine. But I'm so glad we didn't, I know that he loves it just as much as I do and that idea makes me love it all the more.

Now, as Amir is creeping up on his first birthday, we're still on a 8-12 times a day nursing schedule. I would say almost all of his nutrition is still from breast milk, he has the occasional meal or snack, but not regularly and not nearly enough to stem his appetite for milk. I know that right now it's still the healthiest (and most environmentally-friendly!) way to nourish him, and quite frankly, it's the easiest for me as well. It's not always convenient in public, but somehow we've made it work.

I was prompted to write this post when my friend Bridget asked me at Church if I was still nursing Amir. For some reason, I had not even considered the idea I would NOT still be nursing him. But then I realized our breastfeeding relationship at this stage is a rare one for women and babies in our country (the U.S.) and our culture. The other mom sitting by had recently weaned her baby who is a few months younger than Amir and was praising the child-rearing gods for no longer having to nurse. I hesitated and remained silent on the matter, but inside I was comparing her attitude to my own. I do not want to wean my baby, not now and not really ever (though I realize I must, and we've set a flexible timeline of two years old). For me, breastfeeding is the most convenient and most fulfilling part of my mothering duties. I love being out and not having to worry about bottle/formula/clean water/baby food but instead just whipping up my shirt and guiding the ravenous little mouth. I've become so comfortable nursing in public discreetly that the other day I fed the kid and then realized I was sitting on a couch with two male BYU students with two others across from us and didn't even really think about it being awkward until after the fact (sorry if you were there, sorry if I offended you, but not really sorry because I was very discreet and my baby was hungry).

So, I think this is were I'm supposed to draw broad conclusions or pass judgments. I love breastfeeding, we're still going strong and probably will be for a while. But mostly I wrote this for Bridget because I wasn't open about my passion for breastfeeding and I wanted to clarify my position.

Farewell, dear Cairo...

... we shall not miss you. Too much.

Here we are. 4:07 pm. Saturday afternoon. Our LAST day in Cairo.

It's a moment that has come both incredibly slow but also fast at the same time. All in all, I'm glad we came here. In the midst of the summer, I might not have said that. It was hot. And it was loud. And it was lonely and isolating and I was so sick to death of taxis following me down the street trying to get me to ride with them. There were the mosquito bites and the ant bites and the mystery bug bites. There was the occasional case of Pharaoh's Revenge (but considering what we ate and drank, we were very, very fortunate).

We kind of decided to say goodbye to our Egyptian friends in an indirect manner - that is, not saying goodbye. This seems kind of rude, maybe. But Egyptians are very clingy and VERY generous and if we go and see all of them it would take hours, and only after much forced feeding would be allowed to leave. We might stop by and see Hamdi later, but mostly because Tim wants to buy a Koran near his kiosk.

So, there you have it: we are leaving Cairo, though not returning home just yet. First, we must climb Mt. Sinai, snorkel in the Red Sea, swim in the Dead Sea, tour the Old City in Jerusalem, enter the occupied territories, explore Petra, and see Amman (there will be many blog posts to follow, as long as our computer holds out and we get free WiFi in our hotel room).

GoodBYYYYYEEE Cairo. HelllLLLLOOOO adventure!

The future

I'm finally starting to think about the future. I'm sure Cait would have liked me to join her a little more in contemplating what the next step is after I graduate, but I have been letting her do most of the investigation and the planning. One of the reasons is that she simply seems to enjoy it more, especially now that she is done with school, and also because whatever she decides to do to further her education will come after I graduate. But the main reason is Arabic. It's been like a horrible disease, spreading slowly until it takes over my whole life. It actually hasn't been that bad.

Looking back now that I've reached a peak in Arabic (hopefully not the last, but the last for a while), I'm gratified to see how far I've come. Middle Eastern Studies and Arabic has given me all I expected from my college experience. I've been exposed to a wide variety of subjects, such as history, politics, religion and the humanities. One of my classmates called this degree a liberal arts degree, and at first I disagreed with him, but after thinking about it for a while, I tend to agree. And I'm fine with that. I have a strong enough base in a tangible skill, Arabic, that I could go on with it and be fairly successful. In that sense, this degree has opened a lot of doors for me, because it is a difficult skill in high demand, even if I would need more work to get up to the level most employers would want. But I'm not even worried about that. I studied something that was extremely intellectually taxing yet rewarding and then came here and used it in very practical ways to have meaningful experiences. I've grown intellectually and spiritually and emotionally as I have struggled daily with a subject that has never come easy to me. I've been saying lately when people ask me why I study Arabic that I'm studying Arabic to learn Arabic. I'm getting an education. What comes after that will come.

But now it is time to transition. I'm going to spend some time finishing up my education and bulking up my resume, and then Cait will have her turn and then I'll look at more school. Right now, though, I'm just enjoying the view from this peak.

Utopia?

I have been thinking about this painting by Radoslav Zilinsky’s 2007 named "The World." Click on it to appreciate.

Three questions:
Are the middle age villagers there by choice or is it simply a result of the growing disparity between rich and poor?
If they are there by choice, which side would you choose? Be honest.
Is the water clean coming out from the cliffs? Seems weird, but it decides, at least in my mind if this is a true Utopia or not.

Let us know.

Or: how I came to wear Tim's underwear

Our apartment building doesn't have balconies like a lot of Cairo apartments, just a laundry line outside our kitchen windows. This summer I've enjoyed feeling old-school domestic hanging out my freshly-laundered clothing.

But, inevitably, your hands slip with clothespin and article of clothing in hand. Tim has the butter fingers in this family, and was known on more than one occasion to drop things. Mostly, my things. Mostly my.... personal things. Like my sports bra. And my geez.

But fortunately (or unfortunately), we have a neighbor below us with a laundry line that is so generous as to catch our dropped items. But considering the dropped items, it made for an awkward visit. Because, honestly, our neighbor was a lone, elderly Muslim man with a walker. And I'm pretty sure knocking on the door and asking for my unmentionables is haram.

Then one night, Tim dropped my swimsuit bottoms. My teeny little panty-mimicking swimsuit bottoms. We did not want to wake Mr. Elderly-Lives-Below-Neighbor so we waited until the next day to knock and ask for them back. We knocked, and we asked, and Mr. Elderly-Lives-Below-Neighbor confessed he had no idea where they went. We searched the ground below and they were nowhere to be found. Which means a) Mr. Elderly-Lives-Below-Neighbor has a fetish, or b) his maid stole them to wear for her husband (because no Egyptian women swim, especially in teeny swimsuit bottoms).

And since I did not want to spend the money to buy a new swimsuit in Egypt (do they even sell them??), I have settled for wearing Tim's tighty-whities underneath my board shorts. It feels slightly mischievous and more than a little odd.