Yesterday I looked beyond the crescent and star imposed on green and white and peered out into the open plains of western Pakistan. At the moment I was enjoying quite an enthusiastic performance, the border closing ceremony at Attari and Wagah, of the 'decorated' soldiers (decorated as in fashionable) of Pakistan and India trying to out scowl and out high-kick one another. Quite a sight indeed.
An hour or so later though, Benzanir Bhutto was attacked and killed by a shot to the head which was then followed up by an explosion that killed at least 20 others. As much as I have tried to keep up with the goings of the world while traveling, it has been difficult and it is not that I received this news dumbfounded wondering how this could have happened, but I did not expect this. This whole thing of news coming unexpectedly shouldn't be acceptable to one who aims to be a political scientist. Of course there is no formula to decipher how a series of events will play out, but a political scientist should be able to come up with likely scenarios and the preceding series of events should be able to be matched up accordingly.
So what does her death mean? Bhutto was (no longer is except in memory) the leader of Pakistan's biggest political party, Pakistan People's Party, and also a twice elected Prime Minister. She had been on 'self-imposed' (debated) for 8 years and her returning to Pakistan to take part in the political process was encouraged by countries in the West as it was thought to ease the instability in Pakistan and increase Pakistan, and more importantly for the US, Musharraf's democratic credentials. Although she was marred by corruption charges during both of her terms, she was welcomed back by thousands of supporters as well as suicide bombers who left close to 140 dead and hundreds more injured. Her party was expected to win the election, albeit not a majority, and she would most likely be the leader of the coalition government and serve as Prime Minister from an unprecedented third term. PPP (Pakistan People's Party) is Pakistan's most secular of political parties, so to those of us who had hoped this election outcome would be a set back for the extremists in the country, her death comes as unwanted news.
So once again, what does her death mean? Another question we must discuss before discussing that answer is who was responsible? From my point of view, two parties are responsible; Mr. Musharraf as well as the extremists who planned and carried out the attack.
Let us start with Musharraf. He was responsible for providing security for Mrs. Bhutto during the campaign rally and the bomber/gunman was able to get within 20 feet (maybe 20 yards, but still quite close) to Mrs. Bhutto and from that distance he carried out the attacks. For a 'former' general who consistently makes claims that he keeps Pakistan stable and secure, the fact that a terrorist (or whatever you label you wish to use) was able to get so close in proximity to Mrs. Bhutto raises eyebrows.
Now for extremists. Logically I place responsibility for her death because well, they, I believe, carried out the attack (I have not yet discussed who gave the order). Given their agenda, it is logical that they would not want an influential secular party in control of parliament. Whether it be for PPP's championing for modest women's rights or the possibility of taking a greater stand against extremists in the country (note: PPP could be far better but in Pakistan, well, probably as good as you're going to get for the moment).
So who gave the order? Did Musharraf not only provide the opportunity via poor security or did he and his minions (they truly are minions) plan the whole thing in a further attempt to thwart democracy and further strengthen his hold on the country? To start, I am quite certain that Bhutto's death wasn't that saddening of an event for Mr. Musharraf, but nor do I think he celebrated it. I say this because I believe a man who is power hungry doesn't like to share power or have other competitors. Surely with Mrs. Bhutto being out of the picture the likelihood of PPP recovering completely by election time is poor at best. Although people tend to rally behind new leaders in the face of tragedy, people also identify more with the figurehead than the party itself. Although Musharraf technically has one less competitor, who really won? The extremists.
Clearly in the past there has been back-agreements between them and Musharraf that would allow both of them to maintain a specific sphere of influence without the other meddling in their respective affairs. By taking out the possibility of an increasingly liberal and secular Pakistan, the extremists have begun paving the road to further instability thereby strengthening their hold in their respective spheres as well as branching out into new ones. So although it may make sense to some that Musharraf's is the real one behind this event, they should remember that to Musharraf, power is like a new toy to a 5 year-old ... good luck getting him to share it.
Whether I am right, ball-parked it or completely off remains to be seen. All I know is that this event has reminded me that the world is always turning and that in order to be truly informed about the present, one needs to be aware of events/persons/places and their respective pasts.
28 December, 2007
16 December, 2007
Goodbye Ashram ...
Day of departure: December 13The library was as loud as ever during game time as children and volunteers alike were playing games and putting together puzzles. After giving my best to the cooks, the only ones left to say goodbye to were the kids ... my boys. In the days leading up to my departure, I knew that I would miss them and that it would be hard to say goodbye but when it came down to it, it was harder than I had expected. When someone says they are going to leave the effect tends to be minute because things could always come up. One could stay a day, a week or month longer than had expected and because of that, why fret? The real goodbye makes it official and all the comfort that you had just the day before vanishes leaving you feeling alone and cold.
I first said goodbye to Manoj. Rambunctious, smart and often a punk (reminds me of myself), out of my students he was the one I would miss most. He wrapped his little arms around me and his head pressed into my stomach as I told him I would miss him dearly and that everything would be okay. My mind kept telling me that everything would be okay. I felt him start to cry and as I held him my eyes began to water as well. It might sound harsh, but I told him, as well as myself, that men don't cry, that we have to remain strong during the hardest moments of our lives. He then let go and turned away so I couldn't see him cry. I watched him calm himself and heard him say under his breath that "men don't cry ... men don't cry". He then looked up at me still with watery eyes and smiled. He smiled.I then said my goodbyes to my other two boys, Vijay and Gulshan. Vijay, who is quite the artist (he loves to draw parrots) and cricket player (a true baller), and Gulshan, the most playful and seemingly innocent out of the bunch, just looked at me like their best friend was going away. They called me 'biyah' (buy-yuh), their older brother, and told me just the day before that I was a good teacher, their favorite teacher with favorite being one of the words I taught them. Although not as visibly emotional as my goodbye with Manoj, I felt that I would be missed and surely they felt they would forever be remembered as two of the three boys who could always make me smile.
Teaching them was one of the greatest gifts that have ever been bestowed upon me. The children had such a desire to learn and often the speed at which they would pick up a new concept amazed me given their minute base in English. I wish I could show you the pictures that are forever locked away in my mind. The pictures of these boy's faces when a new concept 'just clicked' in their heads is priceless. One day I taught my boys the difference between 'this' and 'that' and when and how to use them appropriately. The next day when they came into class, without me saying anything, one took the book out of my hand and said "this is a book" while another pointed to the ceiling fan and said "that is a fan". From there they pointed to many other objects around the room using 'this' and 'that' accordingly. I cannot express the level of satisfaction and happiness that came over me. I mean they listened, they tried and they succeeded. In the few moments like those I caught a glimpse of what it might be like to be a parent and see your child succeed at something new. It is truly an unforgettable feeling.
Whatever I taught these children is merely a fraction of what they taught me. They gave me a lesson in resilience. They taught me when adversity laughs in your face the only thing to do is laugh back at it.
They reminded me that hope and love are the most powerful forces in this world. The two work together, lifting each other up when the other falls. Without them, we are simply the walking dead. They also taught me that every chore and every task can become a game. And most importantly, although it may have been just for a moment, they taught me how to look at the world like a kid again ... equally intrigued by the mundane and complex alike. Oh yeah, they also taught me to dance (see video, you'll enjoy it).So Goodbye Ashram. My time there will be remembered fondly and hopefully, I will be able to return one day.
Jaul melangeh ...
24 November, 2007
Bal Ashram ... so far
November 4th - November 11th:
As we passed through Virat Nagar, a village about 2 kilometers from Bal Ashram, I began to see the poverty and low standard of living (monetary term) that I had read about in some of my classes while attending university ... children bathing in the muddy water running along side of the road 10 feet down from the 40 year old man pissing in that same water. As a result, my mind started to race wondering about my time at Bal Ashram and what it would prove to be like.
A few minutes later we pulled up to the compound; the ground dirt and gravel with rock/flower/small tree lined walkways leading from building to building with shrub decorated hills in the background.
After greeting the manager and a few other staff members I made my way to my dormitory where Indian Wasps were flying all around in what I can describe best as orderly chaos. They were surrounding the door to my room, the entrance to the restroom ... everywhere. After watching 3 boys just walk right into my room, I stepped up to the challenge and just walked through while Dane Cook's joke about bee's played in my head.
At first I was a bit uncomfortable being dirty, having wasps fly continuously around me (at least while going to my dormitory and the restroom) and being unable to shake the feeling that mosquito's were swarming around me like I and the other kids on my block would swarm around the Ice Cream Man as his jingle jangle played around our street. Little did I know that these daily obstacles (the mosquito thing I have yet to shake due to the random bites that keep popping up) would add to the flavor and my overall happiness with being here. This place has become my sanctuary ... my haven in India.
I cannot begin to describe the pleasure that I have taken from being here in just this short amount of time. These kids are amazing. They have such an appreciation for life and one could not guess, nor would one want to, that these children were beaten, starved and forced to work for minimal or no pay ... many of them simply sold to employers by con artists who convince their parents to give them up or sometimes by even their own family members.
As I said in an earlier blog, these kids have hearts of gold and smiles to go along with it. They are very smart and one of the older ones, someone I now call a friend and mean it, even won the 2006 International Children's Peace Prize (Nobel Peace Prize for kids). He, as the others, will go on to do great things in life at the rate he is going.
They all study hard and play even harder. It amazes me how people can be so resilient. Their warmth and desire to better themselves as well as those around them is something that I admire.
I am happy here. Truly happy. I cannot recall a time when I have consistently laughed as much as I have here. Everything these kids do, they do with a smile. The most mundane tasks all of a sudden become a new game or a dramatic battle between competing factions and then ending in hysterical laughter.
This is home.
As we passed through Virat Nagar, a village about 2 kilometers from Bal Ashram, I began to see the poverty and low standard of living (monetary term) that I had read about in some of my classes while attending university ... children bathing in the muddy water running along side of the road 10 feet down from the 40 year old man pissing in that same water. As a result, my mind started to race wondering about my time at Bal Ashram and what it would prove to be like.
A few minutes later we pulled up to the compound; the ground dirt and gravel with rock/flower/small tree lined walkways leading from building to building with shrub decorated hills in the background.
After greeting the manager and a few other staff members I made my way to my dormitory where Indian Wasps were flying all around in what I can describe best as orderly chaos. They were surrounding the door to my room, the entrance to the restroom ... everywhere. After watching 3 boys just walk right into my room, I stepped up to the challenge and just walked through while Dane Cook's joke about bee's played in my head.
At first I was a bit uncomfortable being dirty, having wasps fly continuously around me (at least while going to my dormitory and the restroom) and being unable to shake the feeling that mosquito's were swarming around me like I and the other kids on my block would swarm around the Ice Cream Man as his jingle jangle played around our street. Little did I know that these daily obstacles (the mosquito thing I have yet to shake due to the random bites that keep popping up) would add to the flavor and my overall happiness with being here. This place has become my sanctuary ... my haven in India.
I cannot begin to describe the pleasure that I have taken from being here in just this short amount of time. These kids are amazing. They have such an appreciation for life and one could not guess, nor would one want to, that these children were beaten, starved and forced to work for minimal or no pay ... many of them simply sold to employers by con artists who convince their parents to give them up or sometimes by even their own family members.
As I said in an earlier blog, these kids have hearts of gold and smiles to go along with it. They are very smart and one of the older ones, someone I now call a friend and mean it, even won the 2006 International Children's Peace Prize (Nobel Peace Prize for kids). He, as the others, will go on to do great things in life at the rate he is going.
They all study hard and play even harder. It amazes me how people can be so resilient. Their warmth and desire to better themselves as well as those around them is something that I admire.
I am happy here. Truly happy. I cannot recall a time when I have consistently laughed as much as I have here. Everything these kids do, they do with a smile. The most mundane tasks all of a sudden become a new game or a dramatic battle between competing factions and then ending in hysterical laughter.
This is home.
The Pink City
Jaipur
October 30th - 10:30AM November 4th:
After my 18 hour "SuperFast Express" train ride, the last thing I wanted to do was deal with any hassle. My not being willing to barter or even acknowledge an offer by a rickshaw or autorickshaw led to my walking, unknowingly, 2 kilometers in the heat to my place of stay.
Note to self: when looking at maps, pay attention to the distance scale as 1 inch can mean 100 meters or, in my case, 1 kilometer.
The first two days I did absolutely nothing except dine at the rooftop restaurant, play guitar and obsess over whether or not the program that I had signed up for was actually legitimate. After being accepted, I was basically told to just show up ... If this had been in the states, it would be the exact same thing except that, well, I would be in the states. But I wasn't told to just show up in the states, I was told to just show up ... in India.
I finally put all my worries to rest once I met the organizer of the volunteer program I signed up for; a kind, soft-spoken man with a slight limp in his early 40's. After he had helped me with my bags and drove me to my new residence for the rest of my duration in Jaipur and explained a bit more about the program, I set out into the Pink City (Old City) and witnessed the real chaos that is urban India.
Later that day I met my future partner in crime, my fellow volunteer from Norway, and over the next few days we took on the sights of Jaipur starting with Galta (Monkey Temple ... you feed them right from your hand) and ending with the fabulous Amer Fort and Jal Mahal (Water Palace) ... all three are worth seeing.
After our last day of sightseeing, we met with another volunteer (a Canadian ... who would have thought?) who would be joining us in the upcoming days due to her arriving from South Korea, where she was teaching english, just the day before. The next morning, the Norwegian and I left for Bal Ashram, the rehabilitation center for rescued child laborers (who also may be orphans) not knowing what to expect, whom we might encounter and what our living situation would be like.
October 30th - 10:30AM November 4th:
After my 18 hour "SuperFast Express" train ride, the last thing I wanted to do was deal with any hassle. My not being willing to barter or even acknowledge an offer by a rickshaw or autorickshaw led to my walking, unknowingly, 2 kilometers in the heat to my place of stay.
Note to self: when looking at maps, pay attention to the distance scale as 1 inch can mean 100 meters or, in my case, 1 kilometer.
The first two days I did absolutely nothing except dine at the rooftop restaurant, play guitar and obsess over whether or not the program that I had signed up for was actually legitimate. After being accepted, I was basically told to just show up ... If this had been in the states, it would be the exact same thing except that, well, I would be in the states. But I wasn't told to just show up in the states, I was told to just show up ... in India.
I finally put all my worries to rest once I met the organizer of the volunteer program I signed up for; a kind, soft-spoken man with a slight limp in his early 40's. After he had helped me with my bags and drove me to my new residence for the rest of my duration in Jaipur and explained a bit more about the program, I set out into the Pink City (Old City) and witnessed the real chaos that is urban India.
Later that day I met my future partner in crime, my fellow volunteer from Norway, and over the next few days we took on the sights of Jaipur starting with Galta (Monkey Temple ... you feed them right from your hand) and ending with the fabulous Amer Fort and Jal Mahal (Water Palace) ... all three are worth seeing.
After our last day of sightseeing, we met with another volunteer (a Canadian ... who would have thought?) who would be joining us in the upcoming days due to her arriving from South Korea, where she was teaching english, just the day before. The next morning, the Norwegian and I left for Bal Ashram, the rehabilitation center for rescued child laborers (who also may be orphans) not knowing what to expect, whom we might encounter and what our living situation would be like.
Welcome to Bollywood
Mumbai
October 26th - 1PM October 30th:
My time in Mumbai can best be described as a blur. I arrived after being in transit for close to 30 hours; a 10hr train ride from Luxor to Cairo, 2.75 hrs from train station to the Airport, 3hr flight to Kuwait, 7 hr layover and lastly a 4.5 hour flight into Mumbai. Upon arrival at 5:10 AM I had to climb over 4 luggage carts to grab my bags and then negotiated a cab ride to my Bollywood safe-house. I then slept and awoke hours later in search of sustenance. The 'blur' began later that night at a local watering hole (cafe/bar) ...
Cafe Mondegar was packed and the only reason I went in is because I saw a big sign for Kingfisher (the local brew) and was craving a drink. I was awarded the last table in the house. While thoroughly enjoying my first drink, I was approached by the waiter who asked if another gentleman could join me. I conceded. The man who joined me turned out to be the finest host one could ask for; having is private driver give me rides home late in the evening, covering meals and drinks, and more importantly, showing myself (and two girls I met) the chaos that is Mumbai's nightlife.
My nights included chill pubs, crazy dance clubs, late (and I mean LATE) meals, waking my hosts surprised coworkers at 2 AM to use the restroom and catching some live Indian musical entertainment.
To my ever so gracious host: I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generosity, sincerity and your uplifting thoughts on life and one might live it. Also, you would love the kids here ... hearts of gold and smiles to go along with it.
October 26th - 1PM October 30th:
My time in Mumbai can best be described as a blur. I arrived after being in transit for close to 30 hours; a 10hr train ride from Luxor to Cairo, 2.75 hrs from train station to the Airport, 3hr flight to Kuwait, 7 hr layover and lastly a 4.5 hour flight into Mumbai. Upon arrival at 5:10 AM I had to climb over 4 luggage carts to grab my bags and then negotiated a cab ride to my Bollywood safe-house. I then slept and awoke hours later in search of sustenance. The 'blur' began later that night at a local watering hole (cafe/bar) ...
Cafe Mondegar was packed and the only reason I went in is because I saw a big sign for Kingfisher (the local brew) and was craving a drink. I was awarded the last table in the house. While thoroughly enjoying my first drink, I was approached by the waiter who asked if another gentleman could join me. I conceded. The man who joined me turned out to be the finest host one could ask for; having is private driver give me rides home late in the evening, covering meals and drinks, and more importantly, showing myself (and two girls I met) the chaos that is Mumbai's nightlife.
My nights included chill pubs, crazy dance clubs, late (and I mean LATE) meals, waking my hosts surprised coworkers at 2 AM to use the restroom and catching some live Indian musical entertainment.
To my ever so gracious host: I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generosity, sincerity and your uplifting thoughts on life and one might live it. Also, you would love the kids here ... hearts of gold and smiles to go along with it.
28 October, 2007
Luxor ...
Monday, October 22nd - Wednesday, October 24th
Despite the ever so aggressive taxi or carriage drivers and the private ferry boat hassles, Luxor is amazing.
The Hostel:
I have never seen so many pictures and posters of Bob Marley in my life. Every spec of every wall was like a shrine dedicated to the man. The funny thing is, during my stay I did not hear one Bob Marley song on their stereo ... it was usually just the Gypsy Kings which brought back fond childhood memories of early saturday mornings in the Pezeshk house.Upon my arrival I wound up meeting an English girl who was on holiday before finishing her last year of medical school; she became my partner in crime for the rest of my stay in Luxor.
The Sights:
The Luxor Temple, located right along the nile, is beautiful and well preserved. While walking through the ruins all I could do was imagine what the temple looked like in its original setting with the Avenue of Sphinxes leading right to the massive entrance. It must have been quite a sight to both the local and the passerby. The tombs in the Valley of the Queens was also quite impressive.
My favorite place however was the Temple o f Karnak. First of all, it's huge and with every turn there is something new and amazing to gawk at. I arrived just before sunset and had the pleasure of seeing the light of the red sun pass through the grand Hypostyle hall hitting the curves of the stone in all the right places. Although there was a sea of Eastern European tourists with many of the women in some quite scandalous outfits, my eyes were fixated on the intricate carvings of towering walls and columns ... well, at least most of the time. I'll tell you one thing though, to look up and always see an obelisk in the ancient skyline is quite a cool experience.
Overall: Luxor is much more laid back than Cairo but with just as much charm. I was able to relax and also see many things. Should I ever make it back to Egypt, I might just be obliged to make another stop here.
Despite the ever so aggressive taxi or carriage drivers and the private ferry boat hassles, Luxor is amazing.
The Hostel:
I have never seen so many pictures and posters of Bob Marley in my life. Every spec of every wall was like a shrine dedicated to the man. The funny thing is, during my stay I did not hear one Bob Marley song on their stereo ... it was usually just the Gypsy Kings which brought back fond childhood memories of early saturday mornings in the Pezeshk house.Upon my arrival I wound up meeting an English girl who was on holiday before finishing her last year of medical school; she became my partner in crime for the rest of my stay in Luxor.
The Sights:
The Luxor Temple, located right along the nile, is beautiful and well preserved. While walking through the ruins all I could do was imagine what the temple looked like in its original setting with the Avenue of Sphinxes leading right to the massive entrance. It must have been quite a sight to both the local and the passerby. The tombs in the Valley of the Queens was also quite impressive.
My favorite place however was the Temple o f Karnak. First of all, it's huge and with every turn there is something new and amazing to gawk at. I arrived just before sunset and had the pleasure of seeing the light of the red sun pass through the grand Hypostyle hall hitting the curves of the stone in all the right places. Although there was a sea of Eastern European tourists with many of the women in some quite scandalous outfits, my eyes were fixated on the intricate carvings of towering walls and columns ... well, at least most of the time. I'll tell you one thing though, to look up and always see an obelisk in the ancient skyline is quite a cool experience.
Overall: Luxor is much more laid back than Cairo but with just as much charm. I was able to relax and also see many things. Should I ever make it back to Egypt, I might just be obliged to make another stop here.
27 October, 2007
Desert Camping
Saturday, October 20th - Sunday, October 21st
I had overheard Amir, the manager of the hostel, talking to a Canadian couple about this trip to an oasis that involved camping in the White Desert. A bit intrigued, I inquired about the trip a little bit more and within a few minutes I was sold.
It is amazing how one's plans can change so quickly. No more than 5 minutes before I had never thought about camping in the desert and was more occupied with figuring out how to get to the train station to buy a ticket to Luxor leaving Friday night. The only word or phrase I can use to describe what I am enjoying is 'ultimate freedom'. But I digress ... back to the story shall we?
After a tiring day exploring the pyramids under the Arabian sun, the last thing I wanted to do was wake up at 6 to take a 5 hour bus ride to Bahariya (oasis), but I mustered the strength to roll out of my bed and get ready. I met the Canadian couple in the lobby area of the hostel for tea and bread and then our driver came to take us to the bus station.
Apparently we were running quite late because our driver was driving mad and decided to drive only down one-way streets ... in the wrong direction. He kept saying to me "If they ask why I drive like this I say I don't know, ya know?" and also "We're not driving the wrong way right?" to which I replied I don't know. We went back and forth like that for 3 minutes but it wasn't an argument, it was more playful because he was laughing while I held onto the shiesse handle and mustered a few "ha ha"s.
The bus ride wasn't bad actually. It was a decent bus and despite getting stuck next to someone suffering from a severe case of halitosis, I enjoyed the ride. Upon arrival at Bahariya, we were greeted by a small man who told us he was our driver into the desert and from there we (the Canadian couple and myself) hopped into his Toyota Land Cruiser and took off. Before we left the town however, we stopped for lunch and picked up another Canadian (they are everywhere I tell you).
The road was well paved and we were the only car on it as far as I could tell. After about an hour driving through the black desert, we pulled up to Black Mountain which I scaled. The view from the top is amazing (see video).
We pulled into the White Desert just before sunset. This former sea bottom left behind thousands upon thousands of white rock formations that look and feel just like chalk. As of yet, this is the most beautiful thing I've seen. The red sun setting in the distance and the last rays of light hitting the rocks in such a way that makes your heart stop. We all gathered on one mound and stayed silent for a few minutes just taking it all in (see video).
That night we camped under the stars in complete silence. No cars, no horns, no people, no pollution ... just beauty. Pure beauty.
We rose early the following morning and due to our needing to get to our respective places of departure that evening, we left just after breakfast leaving the peace and calm of the white desert behind.
Much love,
Ardeshir
I had overheard Amir, the manager of the hostel, talking to a Canadian couple about this trip to an oasis that involved camping in the White Desert. A bit intrigued, I inquired about the trip a little bit more and within a few minutes I was sold.
It is amazing how one's plans can change so quickly. No more than 5 minutes before I had never thought about camping in the desert and was more occupied with figuring out how to get to the train station to buy a ticket to Luxor leaving Friday night. The only word or phrase I can use to describe what I am enjoying is 'ultimate freedom'. But I digress ... back to the story shall we?
After a tiring day exploring the pyramids under the Arabian sun, the last thing I wanted to do was wake up at 6 to take a 5 hour bus ride to Bahariya (oasis), but I mustered the strength to roll out of my bed and get ready. I met the Canadian couple in the lobby area of the hostel for tea and bread and then our driver came to take us to the bus station.
Apparently we were running quite late because our driver was driving mad and decided to drive only down one-way streets ... in the wrong direction. He kept saying to me "If they ask why I drive like this I say I don't know, ya know?" and also "We're not driving the wrong way right?" to which I replied I don't know. We went back and forth like that for 3 minutes but it wasn't an argument, it was more playful because he was laughing while I held onto the shiesse handle and mustered a few "ha ha"s.
The bus ride wasn't bad actually. It was a decent bus and despite getting stuck next to someone suffering from a severe case of halitosis, I enjoyed the ride. Upon arrival at Bahariya, we were greeted by a small man who told us he was our driver into the desert and from there we (the Canadian couple and myself) hopped into his Toyota Land Cruiser and took off. Before we left the town however, we stopped for lunch and picked up another Canadian (they are everywhere I tell you).
The road was well paved and we were the only car on it as far as I could tell. After about an hour driving through the black desert, we pulled up to Black Mountain which I scaled. The view from the top is amazing (see video).
We pulled into the White Desert just before sunset. This former sea bottom left behind thousands upon thousands of white rock formations that look and feel just like chalk. As of yet, this is the most beautiful thing I've seen. The red sun setting in the distance and the last rays of light hitting the rocks in such a way that makes your heart stop. We all gathered on one mound and stayed silent for a few minutes just taking it all in (see video).
That night we camped under the stars in complete silence. No cars, no horns, no people, no pollution ... just beauty. Pure beauty.
We rose early the following morning and due to our needing to get to our respective places of departure that evening, we left just after breakfast leaving the peace and calm of the white desert behind.
Much love,
Ardeshir
25 October, 2007
Cairo ...
I cannot really think of how to best describe Cairo. I suppose if I had to, the words/phrases would be as follows:
dirty
a hassle
deadly cab rides
brilliant
The Hostel:
I am so grateful to the great staff of the Desert Safari for making my time in Cairo as memorable and hassle-free as possible. I wound up getting placed in a private room at the dorm rate. The fact that I had the room to myself wasn't the best part, it was the balcony overlooking the madness below (the busiest roundabout in Cairo circling the Egyptian National Museum ... see video) that made it the best room I could have asked for.
While staying here I met some great people as well starting with this Canadian guy who had been traveling on and off for 5 years now. He gave me some great tips on how to teach and also good places in South East Asia to teach English to make some money. He also told me of his few months in India and his time in Rajastan (the state/province I am teaching in) in which he took a 3 day camel safari out into the desert ... something that I now must do.
The Sights:
The Citadel, an old fort built on a high point in Cairo as a lookout point and to protect this city, is amazing. The Mohammad Ali mosque in the center dominates the hill. Surprisingly, this was the first time I happened to walk into a mosque. It was beautiful. The domes were decorated with intricate designs and lights were hanging from the ceiling ever so gracefully. While walking through I noticed a stairway leading to nowhere. Although I am not sure, I think the stairway is in the direction of the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem and the stairway is to symbolize Prophet Mohammad's ascent into the heavens. The courtyard outside was amazing as well with the tile floors glistening in the sunlight. I wish you all could see it.
Sadly, despite the history and significance of the al Azhar mosque in Islamic teaching, I did not find that it was quite as beautiful as the Mohammad Ali mosque, but still it was cool to walk inside the empty classrooms (they were on holiday or break) and around the surrounding corridors.
The Egyptian Museum which houses the Tut exhibit was quite cool. There were so many brilliant stone structures and sarcophagus's. The displays, although poorly lit and many without descriptions, were also captivating. The highlight, of course, was the Tut exhibit and his magnificent headdress that was truly immaculate.
I spent my last day in Cairo visiting the Pyramids. They are just as majestic as they look in the pictures. They tower of the slum, oh I mean town, of Haram and it is completely crazy that these testaments of architecture and time are still standing.
In the end, my time in Cairo was an experience that when looked back upon I'll remember fondly.
18 October, 2007
Brrrr ... Zurich ...
Monday night, October 15th - Tuesday morning, October 16th
There is only one word I can use to describe to describe this night; gnarly. The following is how my night proceeded ...
It turned out the 'ozzie' boys I met in Barcelona were going to be in Zurich as well but were leaving on an earlier flight. I said I would email them before I left asking for the name and directions to their hotel.
9:45 PM - I landed in Zurich and found an internet kiosk to check my mail. Mike (one of the 'ozzies') had wrote me inviting me to chill with them at their hotel and listed the directions from the main train station in Zurich. I jotted the directions down on a postit and hopped on the train from the airport to the city.
First, what a crazy station ... it had a beer hall inside of it! Second, I must be a complete idiot because I couldn't find their place after I spent 30 minutes searching for it. I then spent another 10 minutes trying to find an internet kiosk at the train station which I eventually found. I emailed Mike back hoping he was online so I could ask him to either meet me or give me the name of the hotel, but to no avail.
Then for some reason, thinking trains would run all night back to the airport, I decided to walk around Zurich for a bit. It is a sleepy town at least in the area surrounding the train station minus the McDonald's and one bar. After walking around a bit in the cold (like the idiot I am, my jacket was in my checked luggage which was being transferred to the next flight and would have be fine except for the fucking cold and my jacket being packed) I start walking back to the bar only to find that my head phones broke and that the last train until 5 Am had left for the night.
12:38Am - I got to that one bar by the McDonald's in hopes that they would be open until at least 2, but no, they closed at 1. After talking to the bartender a bit and finding out that Mondays were dead (as if I didn't find that out already) and that no all-night cafes existed anywhere I could get to, he told me about this club, Xtra, that puts on this thing called 'Cool Mondays' where they are open until 4 or 5 AM.
I thanked him and left after finishing my beer and headed out for Xtra. Once I got outside however, I decided it was too cold and I would just set up camp in the mall area underneath the actual train station (see video).
After I was starting to get comfortable although still cold, two security guards told me that the station was closed and I had to leave. The station reopened at 4 and my train left at 5:02 on track 9 (see video).
1:30 AM - I start making my way to Xtra with new found haste because it was definitely around 50 degrees or something like that. After wandering a bit due to my being unable to discern the illegible directions, I asked this one guy walking down the street while rocking out to his iPod. Being the awesome guy that he was, Thomas actually walked me to the place despite it being out of his way. It turns out that a few years prior, he was traveling the world (and did it for 2.5 years). The whole walk he kept telling me these crazy stores and I was on the edge of my seat the whole time.
Upon arrival, I asked him to come in for a beer because, well, that was the only real/tangible way I could think of thanking him. We talked a bit more and he bought the next round of drinks because I only had a few francs left. He left around 2:20. I hung around a little while longer to find that the place closed promptly at 3. Yay ...
I wound up making my way back to the heavily fortified train station but found a crack in the fence by the crazy beer tent. From there I was able to get into the tent to find the stage still with all the instruments from earlier ( a band was playing when the beer hall was open). I was stoked. I mean c'mon ... shelter, bathrooms and GUITARS!!!
Before I grabbed a guitar I had to use the restroom. After walking back out of the bathroom area, I found myself face to face with a policeman and his trusty German Shepherd ... he then kicked me out of the tent.
3:20 AM - After leaving the tent and leaving the guard inside, I realized I was locked IN the station. I wound up choosing a corner to sit down out of the wind and cuddled with my backpack in an effort to stay warm.
3:30 or so AM - My eyes open to find myself, now eye to eye, with the German Shepherd from before. I told the guard of my plight to which he paid no mind but then actually helped me scale a big gate to get back out. From there I found a few others on steps nearby who were also waiting for the station to open up. I sat down next to them and just hung out.
4:00 AM - The same guards who kicked me out hours earlier welcomed me back in the train station. I went back to the bench, or makeshift bed if you will, and lied down. I had never been that cold before ( I later found the temperature had fell below 50) ... the concrete and steel just suck all the warmth out of you. After about 20 minutes with periodic gusts of wind, I found a phone booth and just sat there. It wasn't warm, but it wasn't windy.
4:50 AM - I exit the phone booth and hop on the train that was conveniently equipped with great A/C that also happened to be running.
5:02 AM - I left for the airport where I would wait for 4 hours before boarding on my flight to Cairo.
I know of only one person who has seen Zurich and hated it ... me.
There is only one word I can use to describe to describe this night; gnarly. The following is how my night proceeded ...
It turned out the 'ozzie' boys I met in Barcelona were going to be in Zurich as well but were leaving on an earlier flight. I said I would email them before I left asking for the name and directions to their hotel.
9:45 PM - I landed in Zurich and found an internet kiosk to check my mail. Mike (one of the 'ozzies') had wrote me inviting me to chill with them at their hotel and listed the directions from the main train station in Zurich. I jotted the directions down on a postit and hopped on the train from the airport to the city.
First, what a crazy station ... it had a beer hall inside of it! Second, I must be a complete idiot because I couldn't find their place after I spent 30 minutes searching for it. I then spent another 10 minutes trying to find an internet kiosk at the train station which I eventually found. I emailed Mike back hoping he was online so I could ask him to either meet me or give me the name of the hotel, but to no avail.
Then for some reason, thinking trains would run all night back to the airport, I decided to walk around Zurich for a bit. It is a sleepy town at least in the area surrounding the train station minus the McDonald's and one bar. After walking around a bit in the cold (like the idiot I am, my jacket was in my checked luggage which was being transferred to the next flight and would have be fine except for the fucking cold and my jacket being packed) I start walking back to the bar only to find that my head phones broke and that the last train until 5 Am had left for the night.12:38Am - I got to that one bar by the McDonald's in hopes that they would be open until at least 2, but no, they closed at 1. After talking to the bartender a bit and finding out that Mondays were dead (as if I didn't find that out already) and that no all-night cafes existed anywhere I could get to, he told me about this club, Xtra, that puts on this thing called 'Cool Mondays' where they are open until 4 or 5 AM.
I thanked him and left after finishing my beer and headed out for Xtra. Once I got outside however, I decided it was too cold and I would just set up camp in the mall area underneath the actual train station (see video).
After I was starting to get comfortable although still cold, two security guards told me that the station was closed and I had to leave. The station reopened at 4 and my train left at 5:02 on track 9 (see video).
1:30 AM - I start making my way to Xtra with new found haste because it was definitely around 50 degrees or something like that. After wandering a bit due to my being unable to discern the illegible directions, I asked this one guy walking down the street while rocking out to his iPod. Being the awesome guy that he was, Thomas actually walked me to the place despite it being out of his way. It turns out that a few years prior, he was traveling the world (and did it for 2.5 years). The whole walk he kept telling me these crazy stores and I was on the edge of my seat the whole time.
Upon arrival, I asked him to come in for a beer because, well, that was the only real/tangible way I could think of thanking him. We talked a bit more and he bought the next round of drinks because I only had a few francs left. He left around 2:20. I hung around a little while longer to find that the place closed promptly at 3. Yay ...
I wound up making my way back to the heavily fortified train station but found a crack in the fence by the crazy beer tent. From there I was able to get into the tent to find the stage still with all the instruments from earlier ( a band was playing when the beer hall was open). I was stoked. I mean c'mon ... shelter, bathrooms and GUITARS!!!
Before I grabbed a guitar I had to use the restroom. After walking back out of the bathroom area, I found myself face to face with a policeman and his trusty German Shepherd ... he then kicked me out of the tent.
3:20 AM - After leaving the tent and leaving the guard inside, I realized I was locked IN the station. I wound up choosing a corner to sit down out of the wind and cuddled with my backpack in an effort to stay warm.
3:30 or so AM - My eyes open to find myself, now eye to eye, with the German Shepherd from before. I told the guard of my plight to which he paid no mind but then actually helped me scale a big gate to get back out. From there I found a few others on steps nearby who were also waiting for the station to open up. I sat down next to them and just hung out.
4:00 AM - The same guards who kicked me out hours earlier welcomed me back in the train station. I went back to the bench, or makeshift bed if you will, and lied down. I had never been that cold before ( I later found the temperature had fell below 50) ... the concrete and steel just suck all the warmth out of you. After about 20 minutes with periodic gusts of wind, I found a phone booth and just sat there. It wasn't warm, but it wasn't windy.
4:50 AM - I exit the phone booth and hop on the train that was conveniently equipped with great A/C that also happened to be running.
5:02 AM - I left for the airport where I would wait for 4 hours before boarding on my flight to Cairo.
I know of only one person who has seen Zurich and hated it ... me.
17 October, 2007
Barcelona ...
There are few places in the world which when remembered do nothing but bring a smile to one's face. Barcelona is one of those places.The Hostel:
To start, the hostel I stayed in was amazing. It was clean, in a great location and had a great staff. More importantly however are the fellow travelers that just happened to be staying there as well. I met a great group of girls taking a week off from their studies in England, two crazy Icelanders on a journey around the world (next stop for them is a two week rafting trip in Nepal) and a four crazy 'ozzies' who felt like owning the world (check them out at www.mymacjacket.com).
The Nightlife:So yeah, Barcelona is ridiculous. I went out one night night til 3:30AM and felt that was late until I met these Americans in Park Guell and they invited me to meet up with them at night and go out. Well, after far too many drinks and my dancing shoes wearing down to their soles, we stumbled back to our respective hotels. Time of departure: 5:30 AM. I'll tell you one thing though ... it was truly a great night.
The Sights:
I saw many things in Barcelona and as far as architecture is concerned, this is Gaudi city. La Sagrada Familia is one of the most incredible things I have ever seen. I do not know how any one man could have conceived that design and still can't believe the detail that be illustrated in stone. Park Guell is another beautiful highlight. The views from the top by the cross are phenomenal and the mosaic architecturewill leave you breathless.
The Farewell:I spent my last day in Barcelona cruising on my own with the destination being Place Espanya. The castle, located at the bottom of Montjuic, is beautiful. I cannot remember blinking as I made my way down the promenade and stairs leading up to it. From there I relaxed at the hostel recanting a few stories with the Icelanders, Hinni and Stani (sp?), before I threw on the backpack and made my way to the airport.
In all, Barcelona was amazing and is definitely a place that I would not be opposed to returning again.
Note: Should you wish to see the whole load of pictures, you can email me at pezeshka@gmail.com and I'll send you an invite to the album on ofoto.com
14 October, 2007
Me
Before I start posting, I feel it to be necessary to introduce myself to all of you (although "all of you" essentially means my friends who already know me, but hey, just in case right?).
I'm Ardeshir. I am a dreamer, a traveler, an optimist, a devil's advocate, a talker and a "doer". I tend to be bold and shameless but am slowly learning about this thing called 'tact' as I grow older and become more conscious of those around me.
I am more concerned with whether or not I believe in myself than whether or not I believe in God. I believe in people and often feel that we test ourselves less than we should; we are far more capable than one might think.
I plan on changing the world.
I am confident although sometimes cocky and hope to learn a little more humility.
Lastly, I hope to become a man. A man that others are proud to call their friend, a man that my child/children (when I have them of course) can look up to and most importantly, a man that my sister, mother and father can be proud of.
This is my story ...
I'm Ardeshir. I am a dreamer, a traveler, an optimist, a devil's advocate, a talker and a "doer". I tend to be bold and shameless but am slowly learning about this thing called 'tact' as I grow older and become more conscious of those around me.
I am more concerned with whether or not I believe in myself than whether or not I believe in God. I believe in people and often feel that we test ourselves less than we should; we are far more capable than one might think.
I plan on changing the world.
I am confident although sometimes cocky and hope to learn a little more humility.
Lastly, I hope to become a man. A man that others are proud to call their friend, a man that my child/children (when I have them of course) can look up to and most importantly, a man that my sister, mother and father can be proud of.
This is my story ...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)