April 30, 2007

Cairo - City Tour

Did you know that Mohammad Ali was an Egyptian ruler? He solidified power by killing 400 rival princes over lunch. They fell for the old, “Come over to my palace for a few days of partying, and I’ll have you slaughtered over lunch” trick. Needless to say, this sized ego produced a stunning mosque in the citadel hill overlooking Cairo. The Mohammad Ali mosque is actually an architectural copy of the Blue Mosque in Istanbul.







Technically, Mohammad Ali was a regent of the Ottoman Empire, but he ruled Egypt, Sudan, and the Middle East all the way to the holy city of Mecca with little Turkish interference, so long as the annual tax tributes were paid.

The rest of the morning was a mosque review, most of which were over 1,000 years old.



The Egyptian version of the Blue Mosque was nearly destroyed by the 1992 earthquake and has been under UNESCO reconstruction efforts for the past three years. What technically makes this and the other blue mosques “blue” are the blue glazed and fired tile-covered walls. Aside from the tiles, what I enjoyed most was the hike up the minaret. It is amazing what access five Egyptian pounds or $0.87 USD will provide. The climb was dark and steep but the views incredible.







One surprise, looking down on the city’s roof-tops, is that the flat roofs serve as open refuse pits for anything not quite small enough to toss in a public trash can. The aerial view of this tightly packed city simply revealed a sprawling, hidden, urban garbage dumping site. The other theory would be that the rubble from the 1992 earthquake was simply too great to remove from all the rooftops, so the easy answer was to leave the debris in place.



After lunch Yasser and I ventured to the Coptic part of town that is center for the 15% of native Egyptian Christians. It was intriguing to see the second and third century artwork of Jesus and his disciples. In case you are wondering Jesus did not have long straight blonde hair and blue eyes, but short dark curly hair and brown eyes. The Coptic experience made me feel closer to the reality of Jesus’ existence. There is even a site where Mary, Joseph, and Jesus were to have hidden for the years when Herod was trying to catch and kill him.



While wandering the city together I noticed that many men had a black/grey smudge on their foreheads, so I asked Yasser what it meant. He told me, "If a man is very strong in his Muslim faith, during the five times a day that there is prayer, the forehead will meet the floor many times, creating a mark." Yasser also said, “That many years ago a man with a mark could be trusted, but today many people make the mark by hand and then will steal your money.” He had a good point. As I watched foreheads the rest of the day, there were definite “thumb prints” on many foreheads. Then the density of color was called into question. What was the floor of the mosque made of coal? Now this was really becoming a joke, as some of these charlatans had made marks on their forehead where it was anatomically impossible for it to have met the floor, without seriously breaking the nasal bridge. No concussed black eyes to match the forehead smudge. Busted!

The evening was filled with a dinner cruise on the Nile River. The equivalent of $25 USD will buy you a two-hour cruise and a solo seat at a table set for sixteen. This was not by design and was the result of me traveling alone and all the smaller window "river view" tables being taken by families. It made me chuckle to think that this setting was completely comfortable now, when just a few years earlier I would take dinner in my room on business trips, for fear of the inwardly awkward situation of eating alone in a restaurant. Now not only was I seated with fifteen empty seats but was situated in the middle of the room and it didn’t bother me at all.



An interesting event was to watch two fully covered Muslim women eat dinner with their children. The husbands ate at a separate table. The wife with the more gruff husband, partially undid her veil and turned to face the river for each bite. Turning back toward the plate, her face was fully covered again. The other woman, simply removed her veil for eating while her husband was facing away from her. If he happened to turn she would snap up her veil to cover until he turned again, then continue her "open face" dinner. After dinner, both husbands went to the buffet to bring deserts for the wives and children. There appeared to be an honest affection, as the more relaxed husband took his daughter into his lap for desert sampling with Dad.



The trip was beautiful, not only for the river and night skyline, but for the dinner.



I ate more vegetables in one setting than in three months in the other African countries. Veggies just don’t seem to be available in quantity for the poorer nations. My "veggie cravings" were well sated.

April 29, 2007

Egypt – Giza Pyramids

For the first real day back to world cultural exploration, this was an exceptionally good one. My driver from the airport yesterday, Yasser, served as driver and guide to Egypt’s major pyramid complexes. We started bright and early at 7:30am, because we needed to get to the base of the largest pyramid by 8:00am to quay for tickets into the main burial chamber. When we arrived there was no line and it was about 8:15am. Fearing that the guidebooks were correct and there would be none of the 150 tickets remaining, I sauntered up to the barred ticket window. Surprisingly, and gratefully, there were three of the 100 Egyptian Pound tickets left in the book.



Yasser had warned against spending the money to enter the burial chamber, but I was undaunted. This was a life’s dream and it was going to happen. Determined, I entered past the guarded gate, through the narrow entrance and into the dim, musky, shadows of a horizontally shrinking tunnel.



I’m not an “altitudinally gifted” giant and the ceiling height had shrunk to roughly sternum level with a very steep gradient to boot. Crosspieces of steel are fixed to the stone floor providing traction for the ascent into an increasingly stale airspace. Then, just when you think the disk between your L1 and L2 will rupture from the back strain the ceiling opens into a rising gallery. About a hundred further steps deliver the ultimate prize, the roughly 30 meters by 20 meters burial chamber. With effort, your eyes will adjust to the darkness density within a few moments to reveal a lone sarcophagus that ultimately held the pharaoh’s true burial vessel. With a few blinks, it became clear that I was not alone. (Sorry no photos allowed inside.)

There were about thirty other travelers in various states of physical and seemingly psychological disrepair. Some lay on blankets, arms stretched out to the sides, gazing intently at the ceiling for apparently anticipating the arrival of some imparted inspiration. Others sat in the lotus position, gently whispering, “Ooooolllllmmmmm”, while watching each person watching them. Somehow, going out on a limb here, I’m not sure this is what the Buddha had in mind. Then there were my favorites, the spirituality avid “sarcophagus layers”. Their leader would dutifully assist each into the burial box where individually they would cross arms in the pharaohonic “final resting position”. The leader would start his watch and these power seekers with closed eyes were prepared to absorb the mystical powers of the pyramid into their energy source. Yasser was right, this was really a joke, especially after the tour busload of Japanese tourists showed up to turn the chamber into a noisy seven million ton limestone sardine can. I was “outta there”.



The rest of the Giza complex was incredible. Witnessing a reconstructed barge unearthed from its massive chamber was inspiring. This was not a replica, but the actual structure rebuilt after the original ropes had disintegrated over the course of five thousand years.





Next on the ultimate tourist agenda was the requisite camel ride, worth every penny of the 50 Egyptian Pound fare. Yasser saved me at least 100 Egyptian Pounds by letting me know that the real price should be between 50 and 60 pounds. Tourists around me were doling out between 150 and 250 Egyptian Pounds. I practiced local negotiating skills and settled on 50, so tipped the camel owner 10 after the ride. Everyone was happy.



Did you know that there are actually nine pyramids at the Giza complex and over 108 others in the deserts to the south? The other six pyramids in Giza are for the wives or queens of the Pharoahs and one empty tomb for his mother.
None of the others compare in sheer scale to the "big three" in Giza.



Then I was on to the Sphinx. Now if invisible energy was to emit out or into anything I think it would be this creature. I don’t know what it is but the Sphinx is definitely worth the time to just sit and absorb.



After lunch, it was off to see the original large-scale pyramid, loosely called the “step pyramid” and more directly called Mit Rahina, in the Saqqara burial complex, designed by the architect Imhotep. Twenty-Twenty hind site, I would definitely recommend seeing this site first, followed by the Giza complex. (Yes, Yasser had recommended this order, but someone else had different priorities.) To gain the architectural and historical context prior to Giza would have added all the more to the impact. The Pharaoh buried in the “Step Pyramid” was the father of Cheops, builder of the “Great Pyramid” of Giza.



One archeological bonus, at the Saqqara complex, was the drilling of a hole into one of the ante chambers reviewing a carved stone statue. Of course the natural side lighting had to be dug and covered with plexy glass but it was fun to get a view of what the original discoverers may have seen.


Visiting what little remains of Memphis was the final stop on the day’s tour schedule. Although the smallest of the museums, the Ramses exhibit contained a few of the most impressive artifacts. Specifically, the alabaster Sphinx gave a full picture of what its larger offspring in Giza really looked like before Napoleon’s artillery troops decided to make cannon target practice of its face.



Also of interest are the mammoth stone statues of Ramses, the pharaoh who united north and south Egypt over five thousand years ago and created a new neutral capital, Memphis.





Finally, a great dinner and even greater company capped off the day. Eating at one of the most recommended restaurants in Cairo, Felfela, it was filled with tour groups, with the exception of two people, Hiro and me. Only an aisle separated us but it may as well have been an ocean. After ten minutes of self-debate I finally stood up and asked if he wouldn’t mind sharing dinner together. He was literally and energetically delighted. Hiro is a Japanese scientist on vacation in Egypt. My invitation meant he could practice English, which made his day. We had a blast, talking about everything from the Portuguese influence on Japanese cuisine (tempura) to the geopolitical impact of Taiwan’s use of traditional Chinese characters versus Beijing’s move to a revised character scheme after the Maoist revolution. It was a perfect brain teaser dinner and ending to a great day!

April 28, 2007

Dubai Layover to Cairo

Nine hours in an airport does not weigh heavily in the “fun scale” after being up all night. Fortunately, Emirates Airlines provided a free buffet for breakfast and lunch to ease the pain a little. There was also a “Quiet Zone” with chairs frozen in a reclined position. The combination of the two equaled an hour and fifteen minutes of restless inactivity. REM was only an unachievable fantasy.

The good news is that the Dubai airport had free internet stations. This allowed for a few quick e-mails to family and relief from staring at the same group of airplane tails. I was simply too tired for sydocu or reading.



There were two hi-lights to the extended stay in Dubai. First, during lunch, I shared a table with a very nice Chinese man from Shanghai who didn't speak a word of English except, "hello". We had a great non-verbal smile-fest and were able to communicate which foods were good, "Would you like more tea?", "Will you watch my bag a moment?", and other essentials. When it came time to leave for the plane, we shared a warm handshake with mutually bowed heads. This lunch experience made my entire day!

The second unexpected joy was seeing the sand barges, that are creating the new island communities, "in action". Dubais is famous for its man made islands in the shape of the world or palm trees. These barges scoop up sand from the Persian Gulf and then spray their load into a single location to create a brand new "man made" island (fit for Michael Jackson to buy).





Egypt was a bit of a mystery. I had serious reservations about being an American in a dominantly Muslim country. This turned out to be situationally unfounded. My driver from the airport, Yasser, turned out to be such a nice guy that I hired him for the next few days. His advice was, “If anyone asks where you are from, say Canada.” Magic… instant political "Bush relief". Interestingly, maybe out of necessity, the Arab tourism industry has learned to bifurcate the US government from its people.

Then, Yasser even went so far as to say, “What Al Qaeda is doing is wrong and anti-Islam.”

(Ok, I’ll bite.) So, I asked him, “If what Al Qaeda is doing is wrong and anti-Islam, why hasn’t a “Fatwa” been issue against Osama bin Ladin?” (Long silence.)

Yasser finally replied, “We’ll you see, we hate the American government, and he does too.”

So, I added, “In other words, the enemy of my enemy is my friend?”

“Yes, yes, that is true.”

The beautiful thing about this disturbing conversation was no one was agitated. We were simply sharing ideas and asking questions. Hopefully, there was some bridge developing beyond a polite desire to achieve a decent fare.

April (10 to 27) 2007

Ghana - Accra

I was excited to finally travel to Ghana. Grace Marin Church and individual members had helped to sponsor me for this leg of the trip, my brother’s friend from college (Kwaku) was from Ghana, and it seemed traveling all over Asia people from Accra kept popping into life.

After landing, the culture was immediately apparent. I hadn’t walked more than 50 feet into the terminal and already a uniformed official was asking for money. Feigning ignorance I shook his hand a kept going.



Meeting the flight were three people with happy dispositions: Dennis (Rafiki Village Director), Samuel (his toddler son), and Sarah (a Rafiki six month volunteer). They made the hour long drive to the village an easy trip. (Dennis and Samuel behind Sarah.)



Ghana is by far the wealthiest African country truly visited thus far. There are nicely paved streets and actual sidewalks with lampposts in places. The people are well dressed, but the dichotomy is that the harassment for “tips” is at the highest level thus far.



The Accra Rafiki Village is actually out in the country, complete with a genuine 4x4 worthy dirt road. This makes the adventure feel more like East Africa. As with all the villages the volunteer staff is very warm and welcoming. The extra special addition in this village was getting to meet Melissa Wiedemann in person. She is a generous woman who went through seminary with my pastor and has kept an e-mail dialogue going since my decision back in June 2006 to volunteer with Rafiki. I made good on my promise to Rod and gave her a big hug from the Miles family. (Although, truth be told she went straight for a hug, no hang-shake intro required. She is that warm and inviting.)



The remaider of the stay was truly a blur. There was a day of introduction meetings and orientation to the village schedule and then that evening… bam, “Did anyone get the license plate of the truck that just hit me?” I had been ignoring the obvious symptoms of malaria for weeks, which had allowed the parasite to multiply exponentially until a final “crashing point”. One of the detriments of a Christian Science upbringing is the ability to endure nuisance level illness for long durations. Unfortunately, what I had thought was simple fatigue and “getting used to the heat” was the deadly parasite regenerating in my system. The net result was a temperature of 101, after the fever broke and over a week in bed and roughly ten days of very limited activity outside the guesthouse.



The beautiful thing is that Dr. Joy, the village director’s wife, lived right on-site. Thank God for modern medicine, otherwise the bodily punishment would have been far more dangerous. The first course of medication pulled me back from the yellow green jandus edge. After over a week of recuperation Dr. Joy took me for blood work and there was still a (1+) parasite count in my system, so we brought out an even more aggressive treatment that ultimately did the trick.

The clock was ticking towards my departure date and I still was not able to manage more than a few hours in an active vertical position. These hours were spent tutoring three girls and a young boy in their reading comprehension skills. It was fun to work with all four students, but I’m guilty of having favorites.

One of them was Mary, a learning impaired girl who is just about as sweet as can be. Mary didn’t just walk to our “reading time” she ran to meet me.



She loved to read books together, with an enthusiasm and joy for life that was especially needed at the time.



I don’t know who had more fun Mary or me?



The other kids were great and some had energy for learning, while others read with the labored effort I had at that age. It was really thrilling when Florence started to correct herself mid-sentence, proving that she was carrying the previous day's learning forward.



Rita reading out loud.


After over ten days of relative "bed rest", these few hours of effort with the kids left me totally drained of energy. How could I continue the trip to Egypt? Fortunately, the second round, high dosage, multiple drug therapy took hold and on the departure day a fuller strength returned.

The last morning in Ghana was spent visiting the school classes. The teachers do a great and patient job of teaching a very energetic group of children.









My "Guest Cottage Com Padre", Sarah, has been a kindergarten teacher for about the last five months. She is great with the kids and has an amazing ability to tell multiple siblings apart. If I am remembering correctly Sarah has a set of triplets and a set of twins in her class. (Can you pick them out?)





For some reason, Ghana has an unusually high multiple birth rate. Local lore attributes the phenomenon to a diet high in yams, that are apparently high in estrogen. I don't know if this is factual, but there are at least two sets of triplets and several pairs of twins at the Rafiki Village in Ghana. This is the highest sibling rate in any of the four Rafiki villages visited.



During my school visit recess was called. It was absolute joy to be able to play quarterback for a schoolyard game of “American Football”. We all had a great time and much to everyone’s surprise the girls beat the boys. Usually, the boys dominate football (soccer), so they may have made the assumption that this would carry over to “American Football”, but the boys had “hands of stone” while the girls made some great catches to make up for some pretty bad passes from the quarterback.

In each Rafiki Village the Junior Secondary School young adults learn a trade as well as study their country specific and traditional subjects. In Ghana the trade skill is basket weaving and they are great artists.



Their product is shipped back to the United States and is sold in the Rafiki Exchange to help support the orphanage.







The kids have time to be "children" as well. One of the favorite afternoon games, seemingly every afternoon, was football (not the American kind but the World variety). Somehow, teams would naturally develop and they would play a "single goal keeper" version of the game, similar to half-court basketball. At dinner each night I would hear the excited stories of goals scored, like this one by Godfred, and successful defense. (Yep, no shoes, shin-guards, referee, over zealous parents or civil lawyers on the sidelines, just pure fun.)



One of the aspects of these particular children that I loved was their ability to be creative. A few came up with a "bottle cap version" of football. All that was needed were a few bottle caps, a small tightly balled piece of paper, and two small plastic tabs to shoot the caps into the ball. I was fascinated just to watch them play, with their defensive and offensive bottle cap fore placement strategies. It was like chess for jocks. :-)



Another favorite past time is picking mangos, when they are in season. These mangos are not the huge, perfect, "grafted" variety found in supermarkets at home, but the smaller fiberous fruit. The children seem to love the challenge of getting them off the tree as much as eating them.







Preparing to leave the Accra Village I was seriously blessed by a visit from Dr. Joy, Nancy (a St. Louis native and fellow Ted Drew's fanatic), and Joy's son Samuel. His nanny would bring Samuel by the guest cottage twice a week, when her sister was cleaning, to visit. His happy disposition, smiling face, and impromptu songs were definite buoyancy for me during the tough malaria times.



I have to include my other "buddy" in the blog. This lizard was the coolest, by far, seen in Africa. He would sun himself on the concrete curbs, doing his version of aggressive "push ups" any time another smaller lizard would venture anywhere near. This seemed to do the trick and the smaller lizards would give him a wide berth. Hey, I was impressed viewing the whole scene, each day, from inside the guest cottage.



Returning strength was a welcomed blessing as I faced a “red-eye” flight from Accra to Dubai, followed by a nine-hour layover.



As luck would have it, yours truly, had a center seat between two smelly men with no concept of personal space or hygiene. Translated, that meant no armrests and they were both extended into my seat so far that my shoulders were curled forward. This was not going to work for the seven and a half hour flight. Gradually, I began to establish boundaries and it was no big international incident to assert shoulder and elbow position. What came to be evident was that “no personal boundaries” extended both ways, so it was perfectly acceptable when one of their elbows left the rest momentarily (in a body shift) to assume that space. When their elbow tried to resume position, the space was filled and it simply dropped along side the rest. Fair is fair, so when I shifted or got up to walk down the aisle the body masses had re-draped over into my seat. “No worries”, simply start from square one in the seat "border skermish" physical negotiations.

April 09, 2007

Kenya - Coming Soon!