Philippines

July 2012

When I saw the posting for the Asian student affairs and services conference taking place in Manila, I knew I was going. Being in Qatar means the flight would only be 9 hours (well if I sprang for a direct one) and since the conference is held every other year it seemed like something that couldn't be missed.  Then, the question was, "should I take some holiday time to enjoy the country known for its beauty and hospitable people?" The answer: undeniably "yes."

Over the last few months I asked colleagues to join me in the adventure. Randomly I found out that the past acpa president would be attending with his cadre of colleagues. They were presenting a session. This automatically sounded like a fun adventure, if you know Tom Jackson from U of L. However, I was looking for someone one who might want to do a little vacation travel as well. Alas, there were no takers. As the days grew closer, I continued to be more and more anxious about the adventure. As a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants traveler, my previous trips were mostly planned and implemented by more detail oriented travel companions. I can make decisions, plan events, etc but when you have someone easy going like myself, it seemed better to just go with the flow. Now, the planning needed to be done.

Up until the day before I hadn't booked any domestic flights, hotels or even referenced much of what I wanted to do. It was clear that my anxiety was partly because I was lacking my more organized and particular travel companions. On a personal note, the events of the past few years have left long-lasting marks on my personality and energy. I just didn't have as much get-up-and-go! Additionally, the acquisition of my new degree seems to have stolen a tremendous amount of common-sense ( as can be evidenced in many other phd holders!) Clearly I have an uphill battle on my hands. :) 

I remain true to my desire to power through the hurdles of the past and start reclaiming myself again. One of those major strongholds: solo international vacations. I can't say it is something that I really wanted to do, but I don't want to stifle my desire to see the world, just waiting on a companion (or at least the old katie wouldn't have let that happen. So it is time to find her again.) There's nothing like heeding the call to overcome your own fears. So here I am sitting in a domestic airline terminal in Manila ready to board a puddle jumper to a small remote island, all by my self.

My travels started two days ago now. I left Doha at 1:30am and arrived in Manila 16 hrs later (admitting that saving the extra $700 was more important than the direct flight).  I suppose my odds were better leaving in the middle of the night, and I was granted the ubictuous business class upgrade that many of my colleagues have grown to love. From freshly squeezed orange juice to Baileys in my coffee, I enjoyed the experience. My electronic seat that resembled a lazy-boy kept me comfy on the 45m flight. Even though I had every intention of sleeping through the entire flight, I kept myself awake to enjoy the experience. If someone wants to upgrade me again, I don't think I will complain.

Every time I board a plan and walk through the business class section, I wonder about the people there and their stories. Are they on business? Who is their family? How might their life be different than mine? Then I realized, maybe they are just a economy ticket bearing single gal trying to restart her solo adventures. Maybe the gods looked down and said, this girl is really trying to find herself again, she is struggling with taking this independent adventure, let's just grant her a little extra love. I am not sure how it happened, but I am thankful and the generosity was noted and appreciated.

When I arrive in Manila, the immigration lines were tremendous but seemed to move reliably quickly. Everyone seemed to have an American passport which I am learning is a power and privilege (and I am thankful for the many men and women who sacrificed so much to give me this gift, especially my grandfather, Dale who could never bring himself to talk about his horrors in WWII, but could only say through tears that he couldn't discuss it.) The passport holders were varied in age and ethnicity, providing justification that America really is a diverse and welcoming place. It wasn't however just people who transmitted the lines. I also noticed this small little one that I thought might make Lily happy!

After a recent aggressive taxi cab moment in Beirut, I was nervous about descending into the arrival transportation area. To my surprise, cabs were perfectly aligned and orderly. It was a great experience. My hotel was a stop over place, being that I was only there about 6 hours. When I arrived at midnight, the roosters had not gone to sleep. (I am convinced, they must have insomnia.) They welcomed me all night long. Cats and dogs prowling the streets also joined in the greetings. When I awoke in the simple room, I looked down too see some local living arrangements. Indeed, the colors were lovely, but I again felt a tremendous amount of pro ledge for all that I have.

This morning I had an overwhelming sence of peace about this vacation. Somehow the philipppines feels strangely like home. The WWII legacy left English as an important language and of course the Filipino people are some of here most hospitable people in the world. They are full of smiles and warm greetings. 

  

As I boarded the small plane to another island, I noted something unique. Unfortunately I already had my phone off when the generator (and man with the fire extinguisher) came to start the propellers in the tarmac. It would have been a good one. :)

My stay at Dave's straw hat in was great. The well known spot is clean and relatively cheap and just a few footsteps from the ocean. The place is know for it's hospitable staff (how couldn't you have hospitable staff in the Philippines?) who already know my name, miss Katie (a happy reprieve from the Dr. Katie, I've been getting at the office, since the completion of my last paper.) I ate the local dish of called adobo (a chicken twist on liver and onions) which was great and enjoyed a few of the local beers (a tradition I picked up somewhere along the way). 

Somewhere along the way it started to rain...then rain more, then down pour. As I am the one who has been living in the dessert and really starting to miss the rain, I was delighted. I said to the woman at the desk, I love that it is raining! She replied, " I think we're in a typhoon." and by this (and referencing the weather channel, she meant, "We are IN a typhoon." I am delighted to report it hasn't stopped since I arrived.

Before dinner I found a cute little local boutique of recycled goods where I did a little shopping. I am sure I will go back there. Then off to other shops full of things that locals think tourists want to buy. Better yet, I found a fantastic beaded necklace shop where I will no doubt bring something home.

Dinner was a fantastic experience at a little lemon cafe. Organic, quaint, and unique dishes are their speciality. I had coconut rice with Spanish and tiger prawn, with a chocolate peanut battle moose for dessert.  I will go back, for sure.

This was my eggs Benedict from the next morning. :)

Now I am on day two in Boracay It is taking me a a little time to  acclimate to my new timeline. This means jet lag, no work and solo travel.  All of this has taken a lot of energy and both days I have been here I have taken extensive afternoon naps in hopes of catching up.  Some in my bed with ocean breeze providing natural air conditioning, some in the hammock on my porch, some on my beach chair.

  

One of my colleagues who had been to Boracay before said that I had to take a catamaran sailing. Boracay is known for its outdoor sport, kite gliding, parasailing, etc.  I had tried for two days to go sailing but the intense rains and winds prevented me. On my last morning I got up early to go. The sun was shining brightly and the prevailing rain was far in the distance. I found a young man willing to take me for an hour. A mere $14 for an hour sailing. The water was crystal blue, sun shining and because it was in the morning, the days heat hadn't arrived. I had left my valuable electronics in the room (so no pictures of the event, I am sorry to say.) They made me register and then handed me a life jacket. Then up onto the nylon tied net of the catamaran. With a quick push we were off. The water was beautiful and I let my legs dangle off the edge of the catamaran wings. It was a windy day, one that my captain, Amir, said would be a great day for sailing. The waves were big and each time we hit one just right I got a little refreshing splash. Because we didn't have a lot of time, Amir, and his helper said that we would only sail to the next island, have a quick coconut and then head back. Except for somewhere close to the next island the winds changed. In one large gust, the boat shifted and the rain started. Amir, in true filipino fashion said, I think well go back now if it is ok with you (smiling of course!) They had me change sides of the boat to help even some of the weight against the heavy winds and strong waves. We were flying along the water and each wave hit us hard. I thought it was thrilling, but I am not sure the other guys felt the same. Amir was working hard pulling the platistic tarp sails. I asked the helper how fast he thought we were going..."20 knots" he replied. It was really fast for a sailboat. We were still quite a ways from land and I realized that my chance of falling off was pretty good. I knew they could probably come back to get me, but the rain was falling down hard and the winds were fierce. I, in a calm way, started to calmly plot the fastest way to swim ashore if need be. I wondered if this was an every day occurrence and then asked the helper (Amir was busy concentrating)." Is it hard to sail in this weather?" I yelled to the helper. "yes, very hard. This is bad weather." I agreed. When we got closer to the shoreline the winds got even stronger. I relaxed more and Amir said that we would take one more pass in front of the beach. Each wave hit us in the face or totally submerged me in the water. They asked me once again to crawl to the other side  (something that is difficult when the weather was good, let alone under the mast in raging winds and waves going 20 knots.) I made it across and we finished up the trip. When we arrived, Amir laughed a bit, "Well did you like it?"   "Absolutely! You don't get this wet in the desert!"  I  replied.

My ride...

The days have now turned into many days and...It is now time for me to find my way to Manila for the conference. The rains continued and although there were a few minor delays, I enjoyed the day drinking coffee, listening to music, and finishing writing my blog.

 After almost a full day of travel (8 hours later), I arrived at a local hotel which to my surprise, was very new and very posh in comparison to my previous lodging options on the islands. So what is the first thing you do after virtually camping for the week? Laundry. That's right, I did my laundry in the sink and shower and now my fine hotel looks a bit like the corner laundry mat. Clean cloths are on the horizons.

I was pleased to meet ACPA colleague and U of Louisville Vice President, Tom Jackson and the rest of the service leaving team in Manila for the conference.  We met for dinner and I have to admit the familar face and good company of the group was warmly welcomed after a week of traveling solo.

The conference started the following day with a fantastic opening ceremony including a song of prayer and native dance with the flags of each of the countries represented. It was striking and very cool. The coolest part is they collected flags from every country represented. I was excited to see both the American and Qatar flag there!

Having friends in Manila was a great experience and I enjoyed having travel companions, something that I missed while in Boracay. The U of L team was great and invited me along with them to Corregidor Island, an important strong hold in several wars including WWII. For me, it was a special event because my grandpa who (as grandma said), "saw a lot of action" in the south pacific during WWII was likely sailing these seas. I thought of him alot.

The U of L team was great and I fully enjoyed spending time with them. They taught me a lot about their program in the Philippines and continued to fill my tool box with facts, figures and pedagogy on international education. Their program is certainly a well respected one, and one I hope to visit again one day! Plus, their onsite coordinator, along with their instructionalf and logistics teams was phenomenal. I am so pleased that I live so close to Louisville so I can visit them when I get home.

Katie with the U of L instructional team (and all around good eggs!)

When it came time to leave Manila I was certainly humbled with all that I had experienced. The beauty of the country, reuniting with both old and new friends, soaking up daily rain and some historical moments that made me wish grandpa was here to explain his part. As the group parted, it couldn't help but be thankful for all of the wonderful people in the world, the randomness of strangers and how connections can be built in just a few short days. I can't wait to connect with the U of L team on their home terf! Once again, this kid, who doesn't get homesick at all, certainly ached for a little bit more of home. 

Dear Philippines, thanks for sharing your wonderful country with me. I WILL be back.

  

Beirut: Food, fun, friends and farewells.

Lebanon - May 2012

I can't say that my most recent trip to Lebanon was my smartest decision. As my dad said, for someone with a PhD, this didn't sound like a very good idea.   Our group planned this trip many moths ago to help two colleagues, Justin and Jill, complete their education city service in style. When you are thinking about a place to let loose and have a good time, Beirut is known as the Las Vegas of the Middle East. With its Über liberal social scene and conservative perspectives, Beirut seems to be a hotbed of diversity in religion, social life, and tradition.

 A friend and I arrived yesterday in Beirut, a little nervous.  Heading the concerns of family members, we set out on the journey to have fun, see the amazing country and sights of the once war-torn country. Even though my boss noted it was ok to travel to the country despite warnings for both Americans and Qatari citizens, we were still nervous. As we approached Beirut, the snow- covered mountains greeted out eyes. What beauty to see the mountains after spending so much time in the desert!  On the plane we met a Lebanese citizen who reassured us that our time in Lebanon would be fine and not to worry. Since then we have felt much better.

After watching cab drivers fight over who would take us to the hotel, we started the trip into the city. Just yesterday the road to the airport was block by Syrian protesters so we were thankful that we didn't have to walk into the city. The 30 minute drive was full of interesting things including dilapidated buildings  peppered with bullet holes left over from the war and a plethora of taxi cabs and drivers crammed into narrow streets.

Our first day in Beirut was spent walking sound the corniche area by the water front. Watching fisherman, shirtless men jogging and women and children fully covered as the walk along the toasty over-sized sidewalk. It is clear that Beirut is a convergence of cultures.

On a recommendation from other higher education administrators, we walked around the American University of Beirut, a beautiful campus overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. The campus was outstanding, and we arrived just in time to watch the set up for the graduation ceremony complete with jumbo-trans and plastic yard chairs all placed on the football field which is used only to play soccer here.

After that, it was a walking tour in search of St. George's Church, a very old church in the area. However new construction and outdated maps kept us from reaching the site before we pooped out. We did have have a chance to stop by St. Ellis Church, a stone church with marvelous light blue and yellow simply crafted stained-glass windows. Being in churches (or any place of worship), for me is an incredibly humbling experience and one that I miss dearly while in Qatar. I am hopeful that our larger group wants to go to the outstanding mosque here in town for a visit.

Justin and I finished our day with Mexican food (another thing we miss in Qatar) and peach margaritas which we will no doubt have again on this trip. Thanks again to Lindsey Coco, who allowed me to take Justin, her fiance, as my protector for the weekend!

After spending a leisurely morning at a Lebanese cafe, Justin and I met up with our friends who flew in that morning. Pizza and local beers paved the way for a perfect afternoon. We hopped in a taxi and drove about two hours north to the small town of Byblos. Home of ancient ruins and a quaint little fishing village, we enjoyed the day relaxing in the sea.

 

Windy stone paved streets, added to the charm and the group enjoyed stopping every once in a while to refresh with gelato, drinks and snacks. We had a fantastic fish dinner with mezza (middle eastern appatizers) right on the water. After dinner we headed up the path to the cozy couch benches that lined the streets with shesha (special type of middle eastern hoka) and speciality drinks. Together our group ended in the low-key atmosphere enjoying the cool ocean breeze, smiles and a day well spent. I am pleased to say I aquired a taste for Shisha this night and have since enjoyed it in several places! Three cheers for new adventures!

 

The ride to Byblos took 2 hours but the return trip took just 30 minutes. Our taxi was stopped at a checkpoint in the downtown area but was quickly waved though by five heavly armed guards (a reminder that although we had a great day, we aren't in Kansas anymore.)

After a fun night in Byblos and sleeping in, our group scouted out a cafe known for its snickers cappuccino and Oreo shakes for breakfast.  It wasn't too painful to enjoy!

The group then proceeded to spend the afternoon in a Rivera Beach Club on the Mediterranean Sea. While this was a far cry from from the historical ruins of yesterday,  It reminded each of us how much we needed a vacation and how one day at the beach can be like a week away from the world of work. With the weather a perfect 80 degrees, we each walked away with perfectly sun-kissed checks and a stress free attitude. We are definitely on vacation after today.

While at the beach club our group met other Americans who were in town for a wedding.  Our group had previously tried to get reservations at one of the best clubs in Beruit
(and the world for that matter) but we were not successful. The group we met at the beach, already had a reservation and told us to come to the club anyway. He told us he would try (but with no promises) to get us in. I honestly didn't think that this was going to happen. We all put on our Thursday night best and went to the club. We had no sooner arrived than we found ourselves standing in the "we have no reservations and thus probably weren't getting in" line when I looked over and saw someone familiar. "Moe?" he looked back at me " Katie Wildman?" We immediately hugged each other. How is it possible to run into a fellow grad school (Go Clemson Tigers) colleague in Beirut?  As it turns out, Moe's wife was in the wedding...yes the same wedding as our other fnew riends. It only took a minute and we were in the club.

Moe and Katie meet at the best club in town, Skybar!

For someone who doesn't really like clubs or the dance scene, it was an amazing experience. We took an elevator to the top floor of what seemed to be a warehouse building. Across the bay, in the open-air club, we saw downtown Beirut... What a breath taking sight. Once we got in we walked around to check out the sights. Light walls and beams, jumbo trans on every large space playing intersting videos and graphics, and 9 djs that orchestrated fire and confetti effects which bounced along with the the music. It was really cool. This was not your average club, in not your average party place, and a really odd place to see someone from almost a decade before. Moe and I found a place to catch up and I had a chance to visit with his lovely wife. As it turns out, we have a lot in common and I'll look forward to seeing him in the region again when he is traveling!

If Beirut is like the Las Vegas of the Middle East and if what happens in Vegas, stays in Las Vegas, the the reverse must be true. I do know that everyone enjoyed their stay there and we didn't leave until after 3:30am when we closed the club down. For a girl who didn't think she would like the place, I was certainly surprised. A few of us celebrated the good night by smoking shesha and eating breakfast watching the sunrise at a little cafe. Turns out, Beirut was a great experience for everyone. It always good to remind yourself that you can indeed pull an all-nighter.

Our last day in Beirut was spent walking around the city. We found the famous pigeon rocks and ate at a sweet little organic restaurant researched on Anthony Bourdain's travel food show thanks to Dalia who brought the recommendation.

Beirut was a fantastic experience. I learned more about the Lebanese ways of doing things and the fantastic food that the rest of the Arab world claims as their own.  I hope to return to the country when I can do more adventuring out of Beirut into the mountainous regions of the country  (When the political strife has subsided and things are peaceful time in the region.) Until then, I'll dream of the fun times in Beirut, shesha and a reminder that Clemson Tigers are indeed....everywhere.

Jordan and the Deep River

I can't tell you how many songs I have sung about the Jordan River. Church choirs, high school choirs, they all seem to chronicle the important river as noted in historical texts (and noted also in Joshua 3:17). Then there was Sunday school classes at church. If I were being honest, I never liked them despite how much Ronnie and Elyse Taylor, Steve Flowers and others prepared for the Sunday morning ritual. Talking about the old testament just wasn't my thing. Too many names, places and things that didn't seem to apply to my teenage life. Sometimes life gives you background knowledge that you need to sit on for many years. In this case, 20 years later, I was extremely thankful for their preparation efforts as I stood looking out over the promised land. But, I am getting a head of myself. Let's take the trip from the beginning.

We started out with a driver and fantastic tour guide, Jamila. She took us to Madaba the home of Mt. Nebo and rumored to be Moses' final resting place. This was clearly one of those, "Oh my gosh, I'm at Mt. Nebo" kind of moments. From here you can see the Jordan River, the Dead Sea and beautiful hills (which I had been missing after hanging out in very flat Doha!)  Madaba is one of the largest Christian centers of Jordan but also is known as a peaceful place where Christians going to church on Sunday can live peacefully with Muslims walking to the mosque for the call to prayer. It is an interesting place.

Katie with Curt and Belle Kenoyer. The Dead Sea is in the distance to the left and the Jordan River on the right. Am I really standing at Mt. Nebo?

At the same site, we saw century old Byzantine mosaics that were discovered after an archeology dig. These beautiful pieces were found under layers of other flooring to cover up the religion of the time.

The mosaics are beautiful and is a traditional craft to bring home from the region. Unfortunately, I couldn't afford the nativities available from the local store, but I took pictures to show the traditional patterns and ideas. The designs, workmanship and craft was outstanding. How do they make these, my crafty friends and family might ask? Here are the pictures that detail the progress:

The beginning of a mosaic: Create the drawing on canvas then use a brush to glue each individual piece in place.

The process of making the mosaics is tedious and intricate. I took a few more pictures of other mosaics for sale. I didn't make a purchase but certainly admired the craftsman ship an skill to create these beautiful works.

This was a traditional theme of the area: The tree of life.

This table shows the mound of canvas mosaics available for purchase!

On our way to our location, I enjoyed the local scenery. Beautiful hills, mountains, everything was such a change from my life in Doha. I forgot how majestic it can feel to be in this kind of environment. I also loved seeing locals doing their "local" thing.

This local man herds his livestock along the road: a typical sight.

We proceeded to visit other churches in the region and finally ended up at Petra, home of a wonder: actually a wonder of the world, and chronicled in the an Indiana Jones movie.

Petra is a legacy left by the Nabataeans living in the sandstone hills. They carved their livelihood and memorials into the mountain and the site is something to behold. We arrived in the evening, staying in a boutique hotel crafted to look like an old cave dwelling the place was supercute and very romantic for someone playing the fifth wheel. (Our group of five...two couples and me!)

My "room."

Inside of my stone built room. Beautiful!

We were only in the hotel a short time before loading the car to enter the Siq (walkway) to Petra at night. The event is crafted to be a silent walk through candle lit luminaries illuminating the path to the heart of Petra.  While our group adhered to the request not to talk, others seemed to be all words. Regardless, the experience tops the charts of all time coolest moments. Walking between the sand stonewalls lit only by candle light, was both humbling and eerie.  Civilizations before me spent years carving tombs for their loved ones. Laboring in the heat and snow to show their love, just to see the Romans cover it with cobble stones and arches. They carved these tombs even before the end was evident as carving some of these fantastic monuments and caves took decades to complete. It was humbling.

The almost two mile walk to the center of the city was long and beautiful. It gave me plenty of time to reflect on Iife, being alone, finishing my degree, staring a new life, all while feeling like a little part of a bigger world. I think I am still processing the experience even months later.  It was a beautiful reflective moment.

At the end of the Siq is a candle lit preview of the treasury in the heart of Petra.

When we reached the center city, it was breathtaking. The treasury, as it has been named (but was originally carved as a tomb) was huge and a site to behold after walking for so long in the star sprinkled sky. The local people covered the area in front to the building with candles. Although the pictures don't do it justice, I am thankful for my colleague Chris and Curt who worked hard to try for the perfect shot.

The treasury in Petra with visitors (seated below) listening to traditional Bedouin music.

Hundreds of luminaries created a humbling and spiritual experience.  A man in the distance plays traditional Bedouin instruments

The following day we did Petra by day. Again, transversing the Siq.

Katie in the ominous Siq on the way into Petra.

Belle and Katie on the left show just how big the Treasury is... Very big!

This time, guide Jamila gave us the details of each of thetombs and how previous rulers tried to transform the place based on their own religion, beliefs and values. It is hard to believe that someone would actually behead statues on these magnificent structures just because it didn't jive with the outsiders view of life. It makes me wonder what we are doing now to devalue the works and cultures of people in the name of a religion we think is right.

Katie and Belle pose for a picture inside Petra. What a huge place!

Katie inside one of the carved caves. The sandstone was beautiful.

Petra was extraordinary, in sight, design, company and heat.We spent the day walking through the red-colored sandstone structures and absorbing the vision and mastery behind the city. The Qatar Foundation once hosted a kiwi (New Zealand native) woman who married one of the locals and lived in a cave in Petra. I had started the book (Married to a Bedouin) before I left, but after stopping at her little shop in the cave, and meeting her son, (and now that I am done with school,) I am more committed to making time to finish it.

Traditional Bedouin man playing an instrument (with children).

My travel companions, all of whom are athletes and all of whom were in very good shape, decided that we should take the Oh-so-splendid hike up tothe Monestary of Petra. Accepting the call, I agreed and we started up the steps ( 800 in total) to reach the top.

From the left, Belle, Curt, Caz, Chris and out-of-shape, me.

We had the option of taking a mule tothe top, but heeding the warning from our guide (and the athletic achievements of the group) we walked. And, I can honestly say I believe that walking was amuch better idea. The mules (and their guides for that matter) were seemingly not bothered by the 800 steps and made the trek several times a day to take supplies to and carry trash from the few small caves at the top.   

Typical trek up the mountain to the Monastery.

I once heard my dad talk about taking a mule down the grand canyon and always wondered about the experience. Now, in Petra, without even riding one, I think I have a good idea what he meant. I honestly can't say this athletic feat was the best one of my life, but I can say the view at the top was breathtaking and I am thankful for my travel companions who endured my slow crawl to the top. ("must get back in shape" was the theme running through my mind.)

Yep, that is me at the bottom (the black blob with a purple shirt). Slow and steady wins the race right? (This picture shows about 20 of the 800 steps needed to get to the top, just to put it in perspective.)

At the top of the Mountain... we are the group sitting on the edge to the right of the tent. (Thanks Curt for getting this shot!)

The Monastery from afar.

When we got down from the monastery  (yes, 800 steps back down!) we still had to walk to and through the Siq, another few miles to the entrance.  The last kilometer we rode a horse to the top. It was good to be back on one and reminded me of the days at Jerry Everett's house when we would clean the stables and ride horses in the field.  (Those were great days on his farm!)

Given that we just experienced one of the wonders of theworld, it might been hard to believe that my favorite experience of the trip was just around the corner. We hoped in the van and headed to Wadi Rum, an area in the very southern part of Jordan.  Upon arrival, we left our air conditioned van and transferred to a old rugged desert jeep and proceeded to dive into the desert. Driving on the sand is a combination of driving on the ice, and through snow at the same time. It is slippery at times, but also hard to keep from getting stuck! 

Driver Ahmed with me in the front and Curt and Belle in the back!

The red rock and sand was beautiful and reminded me of train rides through Arizona and Utah (on the way to Julie Vanty 's wedding.) The flat desert was endless and refreshing but it made me hope our driver Ahmed knew where he isgoing.

Our group made Several stops along the way learning about sand script messages on the rocks and to do important things like role downthis sand mountain!

The travel group on the red sand dune in Wadi Rum.

We arrived shortly before sunset, just in time to grab a cup of tea and find our "primitive tents." if this is primitive, I might need to recalibrate some of my past camping experiences.

Beds, table, Kleenex,candle, etc were all provided.

Our camping site with individual room tents and a larger tent at the bottom for entertaining.

Loving every moment of the Wadi Rum sunset. These are the moments we live for...

The large gathering tent traditionally made of woven camelhair and the matching carpets provided shelter from the heat. The fire in the middle with majlis seating (cushions on the floor) surrounding it was cozy, rustic and amazing. After sunset and a wonderful dinner cooked in the traditional sand pit oven, we relaxed around the  fire.

It was at this time that the guide started questioning me regarding my husband, children and why I didn't have any of the above stated relationships. " Your getting old, don't you want to get married?" she asked.  I replied that I was hopeful that these blessings might somehow find me in the coming years. Then, the real fun began. " Well,  I think I have someone for you." she said. She proceeded to detail her brothers life to me through puffs of sweet smelling shesha (a traditional hookah pipe with water and tobacco.) I'll spare you the details, but in essence, she, as the master matchmaker that she is, offered me her brother and three children and a spot to be the third wife in the family. " He really wants a western wife." she said. I politely noted that finding a western woman to be a third wife was a tall order. Having lived in Canada she knew this, but said,"it never hurts to try." It was a moment where you can only be flattered that she thought enough to ask you to be the "love of his life, something that he didn't find in his first two wives." I will file this as a honor, smile and will keep looking. :)

Thankfully we were interrupted by the arrival of a hedgehogwho often visits the campsite. He was cute and prickly and certainly a first for me.  The animals (there are a lot of different kinds including sand foxes,etc) visit the camp site for dinner leftovers and the owners oblige because the wildlife is what keeps the tourists entertained.  Have you ever seen a hedgehog? (I know Lily Gregg would have loved it!)

The friendly hedgehog that visited our site!

At the end of the night, the hedgehog left, the fire dwindled and I went to sleep as a single woman sleeping in a camel tent in the desert. It's good to be a single girl!

In Wadi Rum at the end of a perfect day!

The morning came soon and the bright sun against the redrock was stunning. Sunglasses were a necessity and it now made me understand why the men and women need coverings on their head. First it provides coverage on their neck and secondly, when wrapped strategically, it acts as a sun-visor.  (This is smart!)

After a breakfast that we made in the fire, we were ready for our camel trek back into town. The young man who owned my camel was 14, but looked no more than 10. We were told that his father has recently passed away and he was feeling a little lost, so the men at the campsite were taking him under their care. He was, at the age of14, the primary care giver for his family. I immediately connected with the young man whose age was the same as Lily's. It seems so unfair that children should accept so much responsibility at such a young age. I saw a reflection of my own sadness in his eyes and enjoyed spending the day with him. It was clearly a very good match.

The camel trek...

Now I should probably go on the record to indicate just how long I have wanted to ride a camel. The answer: forever.  This might seem like a strange answer but for a kid that has grown up with more nativity scenes than most stores carry in a season, camels are a VERY bid deal. In fact, nativity scene purchases in my mind are less about the people in them and more about the unique animals that grace them.  The animals tell an important story about the setting of the story.

(Let me digress for a moment.) As a young girl we once received a jungle nativity scene from the Tosi family with elephants and snakes among other unique jungle animals. I always thought that was really cool. Later in life I enjoyed shopping for unique animal pieces to scenes, like a precious moments scene where Keith Alexander and I purchased a nice assortment of farm animals beyond the "regular cow and sheep." Recently my travels to Central America led me to purchase a nativity with a sloth (which I thought might be the coolest animal I have yet to add to the collection!) The animals in the nativity are a very big deal and tell about the location of the nativity mores than the nativity itself. So you can imagine that actually riding one of these amazing animals that supposedly brought the kings to visit a new baby, would certainly fulfill a reoccurring dream.

Silly me, I thought that these long legged animals were made to ride. As it turns out, they don't like it one bit. I mean if you made me sit down and then put an overweight American on me then told me to stand up, I might be a little aggravated as well. My 14 year old friend, held my camel down and as soon as I climbed quickly on top, he awkwardly sprang to his feet shifting his weight to the front and back. I now know why the handles on the saddle are so important. (note to self, nativities without saddles aren't authentic!)

Katie loving the camel ride in Wadi Rum. Mark this off the bucket list!

Katie with a whip on her camel

The first part of the ride was exciting and thrilling, bouncing back and forth gaining the rhythm of her stride. It wasn't too long after the start that my young hearder gave me his homemade whip complete with wire ends to give the camel a little extra go. (It made me sick to think about using it, but the boy insisted that I must keep the camel with the rest of the pack.) The journey was about 2 hours long which made the last 1.5 hours if the journey very uncomfortable. No stirrups made it difficult to keep circulation in my legs and the tour guide taught us another way to keep our legs active. (see my picture below)

About an hour into the trek each of the girls are trying to find a new way to comfortably ride the camel...
(this is an oximoron.)

By the end of the journey, the insides of my legs were bruised both from squeezing the camel to stay on and because of the uncomfortable saddle (note: nativities with kings that wore lots of clothing must have ridden a camel because they had a long journey and needed the extra cushion).

When it came time to stop, my young guide (who walked the whole way) made the camel sit to the ground again. And I, in all my glory, wanted to get off of him quickly as to not anger him. But in my haste, my grounded leg gave out and I rolled off of him in the most ungrateful fashion and landed smack on the ground. Luckily no one got that moment on camera and the camel didn't seem in a rush to get up so he couldn't step on me. It gave everyone a laugh and I dusted the sand off of me and continued to the van.

Katie falling off the camel!

On the drive to the next destination, we ran across a caravan of army vehicles who were presumably on their way to set up a boarder control or start a new boarder control (Syrian border) but their purpose was unknown. The caravan was driving slowly in the left hand lane and our efficient driver moved closer and closer to the line of cars in an effort to pass them in the left lane. They did not yield to us. It was now apparent that the large stationary machine gun mounted to the back of the vehicle and the man behind it (looking at us) was there for a purpose. We continued to move closer (now what some might call tailgating) until the gun was pointed very close to our windshield, with less than a compact car difference between ours and the big gun at our windshield. At this point we could see the expression on the face of the man with the gun. My colleague traveling with us said, "you know we have three kids at home that we would like to see again!" everyone laughed and just about that time the man with the gun waved us around to pass on the right side of the caravan. It is true that we are close to a lot of scary things happening in the region. However I didn't feel unsafe or unsettled. Especially with a guide,everything is calm and my travel companions were fantastic!

Headed to the Dead Sea... going beyond sea level!

The van then traveled the Kings Highway north toward the Dead Sea. This is another place I'd been wanting to visit since those Sunday School days. I remember one of the only things I liked about the old testament were the maps of the regions and the Dead Sea was always there. The sea is given its name because of the extremely high salinity (lots of salt, for those young ones reading) content.

A salt covered rock in the dead sea. Lots of these are along the shoreline.

Virtually nothing can live there, and whatever is there, floats. The dead sea is known for its healing properties and mineral clad mud so it was only natural that I should (along with others) coat myself in the thick, rich mud, then wash it off by floating in the sea.

Katie and Belle having a mud bath outside of the Dead Sea.

The feeling is unreal and literally, you cannot touch bottom because you are floating. Women seemed to have an easier time than men staying upright, but that didn't stop us from trying it out.

Floating in the Dead Sea... sans tan. What a cool feeling!

It's not enough to just float in the sea...you have to pretend you are superwoman too!

The Dead Sea was an awesome experience and one that I would repeat if life presents the chance. VERY cool.

The four day trip seemed like an tremendously long and relaxing vacation. We covered a tremendous amount of the small country and I am ever so grateful to have experienced the beauty of it all. If I go again I will spend a week at the Bedouin camp site and the Dead Sea, soaking up the vast scenery and enjoying feeling like a little part of a very big and beautiful world. I remain thankful for all I have been given and for the adventures that help me see and experience the world. And thankful for friends who were willing to share their adventure with me.