I know, I know…I am no good at this. To show I'm horribly
sorry and I am going to try and be way more proactive, I am going to bombard
you with posts and pictures as I wait for the dough for my apple dumplings to
rise. I am finally adventuring outside of eggs, pancakes, and stews. I figured
out (sort of) how to bake on my stovetop (no oven) so I have been at making
bread items nonstop for the past week, which is doing nothing to help with my
weightloss goals. As far as I know, they do not sell flour in my village and I
won't be traveling to the American supermarket for awhile, so there is hope!
First I want to be that obnoxious person who talks all about
vacation. Living and working in Jordan with little chances to be
"American", meaning wearing t-shirts, talking to guy friends, or
*gasp* enjoying a cold beer at times, I felt it was time to get out for a bit.
I mean, It was about 9 months… I made up my mind, and my fellow volunteer (and
closest friend) Judith and I chose Istanbul, Turkey and Tel Aviv/Jerusalem,
Israel for our week vacation out of country.
My neighbors have been begging me to go with them to Palestine/Israel
since I got here. They have family that still live across the border and talk
about it as if it were the most magnificent place. In fact, that is about the only
topic my landlord and I discuss as his wife is making dinner or generally
running around yelling at kids. I can tell by the tone in his voice that he
misses it with his whole heart. You see, he moved here in 1948 when most of the Palestinians were forced out, and their land claimed. He affirmed that most
of my village is made of Palestinians, a fact I hear about once a month from
someone here. For this reason, and many others (mainly PC related), I could not
tell them I was going to Israel. I was heartbroken. I longed to tell him that I
ate the fish he told me about, I saw the beach he went to as a child, and felt the
same warmth from the people that he brought to Jordan with him. I wanted to be able to show
pictures and tell stories of my time in their homeland and knowing I still cannot
share that piece of shared experience killed me. My neighbors believed I spent
the entire week in Istanbul, and were sorely disappointed when I didn't have
more pictures of ALL my Turkish adventures.
Here I am getting ahead of myself. Let's start in Istanbul, shall we? We arrived
around 6am and quickly discovered that no place in the airport exchanged the
Jordanian Dinar. Luckily for us, I was traveling with some US money that Mom
forced me to bring to Jordan "just in case". Thanks Mom! We had
enough to get on a train and head toward Sultanahmet, the area our hostel (and
the tourist locations) was located. Once there, we found that most placed
exchanged JDs, so Judith was back in the game! We went to our hostel, napped for
a bit, then explored the HagiaSofia (pics below), the Blue Mosque, the fountain
between them, the general tourist area full of souvenirs, food, foreigners, and
hookah bars. I believe on day one we got lost a few times, always managing to
be down an enormous and steep hill from where we needed to be. I worked off all
the calories I ate, and then some during Istanbul! Day two and three ended up
being very similar to Day 1. We took a boat tour around the Bosphorus Strait to
see the islands and the bridges connecting Europe to Asia, we got lost again,
ate tons of fresh fish, went to the Galata Tower, got lost again, ate ice
cream, went to a craft show, and finally had to catch our flight.
It was strange being in a different country where Islam was
still a predominant religion. I am used to the conservative outlook of Jordan
and was jarred by the contrast in Istanbul. I don't really remember hearing the
call to prayer often, even though we were next to a mosque, and many people
chose not to fast for one reason or another. That is unheard of in Jordan.
Everyone fasts, and if you aren't, you still say you are fasting. Aside from
that, the integration of both European/Middle Eastern, as well as
Christian/Islamic culture was beautiful. It was frustrating feeling as if I
should understand people/ be able to speak Arabic, but I couldn't understand
them, and they didn't know Arabic… disappointing! That being said, I am moving
there immediately. I never wanted to leave, but was excited about what Israel
had to offer. Pics of Turkey below:
The Hagia Sophia
Inside Hagia Sophia
Me in Hagia Sophia
Me in the courtyard of the Blue Mosque (Sultan Ahmet Mosque)
The fountain between the Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque (I wanted to live in this fountain)
The. Best. Chicken. Shish. Ever.
One of the Bosphorus Bridges
The Dolmabahce Palace on the Bosphorus Strait. AKA my future house.
The view from the top of the Galata Tower
We got lost daily, but if you don't get lost, you never get to these little pieces of beauty, just off the beaten path.
We got into Tel Aviv and immediately got lost again. We got
off the train too early, and got turned this way and that. Eventually we gave
up and took a cab, which turned out to be incredibly expensive, as is
everything in Tel Aviv. We didn't plan on spending much money though because
our number one goal was to live on the beach. Judith grew up near the beach
(she's from LA), and I have a thing where I need to be by or in the water at
all times to feel whole, so it was a perfect pairing!
After putting our stuff at our hostel, we went out on the
town! Well, sort of. It may be more accurate to say we went to a tapas place
and then directly to the beach for nighttime beach appreciation. We walked
around a boardwalk, saw amazing street art, and, you guessed it, overshot our
turn and went about 30 minutes too far. We were lost again. Luckily not once
did I feel afraid or threatened in Tel Aviv. We walked through Jaffa (old old
old old city) at night and finally found our way back to the hostel. The next
day was beach/ Jaffa/ killer sunburn day. We sat at the beach for a few hours,
I lost my sunglasses to the ocean while wave jumping with children, and got incredibly
sunburned. It turns out, when most of your skin hasn't seen the sun in 9
months, it is even more important to reapply sunscreen on a 15-20min basis.
Silly me.
The beach!
So sunburned!
The souk in Jaffa
We didn't have much time in Tel Aviv and had to grab our bus
to Jerusalem. That evening we got into Jerusalem, got to the hostel and found
out it was the biggest, most well-run, amazing, lovely, fun, spirited, monster
of a hostel. They knew exactly what they were doing. It was perfect! I highly highly
recommend Abraham Hostel in Jerusalem. They offered tours, theme nights, things
to do in the city, etc. I was so happy!
The next day we joined a free tour of the Old City to get
our bearings on the city before wandering around ourselves. After wandering
around for a bit, hearing the history, and stopping for photo ops, we ended up
on the The Holy Church of the Sepulchre looking out over the Temple Mount and
heard the most haunting call to prayer. It began with one man singing "God
is Greater"…following quickly by two more mosques calling Muslims to
prayer. A chorus of "God is Greater, there is no God but God…come to pray…God
is Greatest". As this rang through the air, each word lingered in the air
and I felt an infinite sadness. An overwhelming, crushing feeling of
heartbreak. My heart broke for those who were forced to leave this place they
called home. My heart broke for those who suffered while they stayed. My heart
broke for the conflict. My heart broke for the families I live with, eat with,
laugh with, and love. My heart broke. I began to cry with no ability to even
attempt to control the tears. I felt so completely devastated. As the prayer continued
and my mind focused solely on my landlords eyes and the way they lit up when
talking about his home in Palestine, I had to walk away from the group and try
to collect myself. I looked at Judith, with hope of getting a sympathetic
smile and a hug, but I could see the tears coming from under her sunglasses.
Her brow was furrowed much like mine in an attempt to understand what just
happened. We never could describe that moment. I don't think there is a way to
make it real for others. I know it hit me harder than it should have and I knew
that I belonged to Jordan, my neighbors and their story.
Inside the Holy Church of the Sepluchre
Inside the Holy Church of the Sepluchre
At the Western Wall
Praying at the Western Wall
I was right about here when I heard that call to prayer
After that experience nothing else on vacation seemed to
matter as much. We went through the motions of seeing the sites, taking
pictures, and of course, getting lost. At least when we got lost this time it
was in the Muslim quarter so we were able to speak with people and here music
that was once anxiety-provoking, but was now the sounds of comfort… of home.
We made it back, a big thanks to Judith who had to exchange
all her money in order to get me back across the border. Turns out I am not so
good with budgets. I'll learn someday… maybe.
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