Our SixAbroad Spring Break holiday was spent in Egypt.
Highlights included a Nile river cruise from Luxor to Aswan:
Karnak Temple:
Edfu Temple:
The Cairo Museum:
Riding camels around the Great Pyramids of Giza:
And waking up to this view at the Mena House Hotel:
But my favorite experience of our trip was the sunrise hot air balloon ride over Luxor:
These local farmers didn’t seem to mind at all when our balloon landed in their sugar cane harvest.
Part of my purpose in writing this post is to show readers some of the great things to do in Egypt. However, my main purpose is to show readers that Egypt is a safe travel destination. Egyptian tourism has plummeted in recent years and over and over we had locals begging us to tell our friends about our good experiences and the safety we enjoyed in their country.
Jason and I were interviewed at the airport in Luxor about the safety of our Egyptian travels.
So, as a citizen of this world who had the privilege of experiencing a few sites, sounds and smells of Egypt, I am telling my readers that Egypt should be on your bucket list. On behalf of the great Egyptians I met who make their living in the tourist industry, and who have suffered in recent years because of lack of work, I make this plea for anyone who is thinking of traveling to Egypt to DO IT! Do not miss the world’s most ancient and plentiful sites and treasures that only Egypt has to offer!
Hopefully while you’re there, you’ll run into this guy!
In Istanbul, I was able to cross an item off my Bucket List by seeing the Hagia Sophia in person.
Construction began on the Hagia Sophia in 537 A.D.
The interior of the Hagia Sophia is even more impressive than the exterior.
Built originally as a Greek Orthodox basilica, the Hagia Sophia was converted into a mosque in 1453 and then a museum in 1935.
The Christian mosaics are spectacular!
Just across from the Hagia Sophia is the Blue Mosque. The Blue Mosque is one of the most beautiful buildings I’ve ever seen.
The entire mosque was built in just 7 years; between 1609-1616.
The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior.
As amazing as Istanbul’s mosques are, my favorite cultural experience in the city was visiting a Turkish bath. Istanbul is full of Turkish baths. We chose the Suleymaniye Baths, built in 1557 by Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent.
Suleymaniye Baths only allow couples, so if you want to go, bring a buddy. Here’s how things went down:
After enjoying the traditional Turkish ambiance in the lobby, we were taken by a middle-aged gentleman up the stairs to a table stacked with red and white plaid clothing. Jason was handed a towel and nothing else. I was first handed a pair of shorts. Then the middle-aged man took a sizable gander at my not so sizable chest and then started rifling through the stack of bikini tops. At this point, I sheepishly said, “Do you have a small.” To which he loudly replied, “Yes! You want a Japanese top!” Not sure if I wanted to join in any stereotyping of entire races of women, I quietly replied, “Yes. I’ll take the Japanese top.” To which he handed me a bikini top and a towel. I then followed my snickering husband into the dressing room. The dressing rooms are one per couple, so I would advise that you take a buddy that you are okay seeing naked, and visa-versa.
Our conversation in the dressing room when something like this:
Me (just after taking my shirt off): What are you doing?
Jason (pointing his camera phone at me): I’m going to take a picture of you putting on your Japanese top.
Me: Uh, no you’re not! (Turning around) Here tie this.
Jason’s camera phone: Click!
So, because insulting the Japanese two minutes earlier wasn’t enough, we were now contributing to the world’s soft porn problem.
After a quick discussion (with me doing all of the talking) about when it is appropriate to take pictures of one’s wife and when it is not appropriate to take pictures of one’s wife, followed by a photo deletion, we were locking our possessions inside our dressing room and then parading through the lobby in our plaid regalia.
We were then taken into a very hot and steaming room and told to lie down on our backs on a large marble slab in the center of the room.
Please note: The above is not a picture of me and Jason! This photo came from the establishment’s website. Proof: This woman is clearly not wearing a Japanese top.
Back to the marble slab. We were told to lie on the marble slab for 30-40 minutes. The slab was heated and it was extremely hot. We were to lie on the slab long enough for the toxins in our bodies to be released through our sweat and onto the slab. A number of other couples were also lying on the hot slab, releasing their own toxins. And I’m pretty sure that all of the toxins being released through the profuse sweat dripping off our bodies onto the slab, created an entire ecosphere of human filth on that single marble slab. Each time a couple got up to enter the baths, another couple would quickly take their place on the sweat and toxin covered surface. Trying not to think about all the filth, I focused my attention on the ancient cupola above our heads for the 30 minutes or so we spent releasing toxins.
At last it was our turn to enter the bath. The steamy room had four smaller rooms in each of the corners. We were taken into one of the corner rooms where we were told by two professional bathers, wearing the same towel as Jason, to sit next to a water basin. We were then dowsed with cool, refreshing water from the basin. Then our bathers rubbed our arms, legs, backs, shoulders, stomachs and chests with a loofah-like sponge. We were then told to lie down on our stomachs on smaller marble slabs along the walls; whereupon we were covered in about 10 inches of soapsuds.
Then, through all the suds, our bathers gave us relaxing massages. Afterward, we flipped onto our backs, then covered in another 10 inches of suds and the massage continued. The entire massage lasted about 20 minutes total. We were then brought back to the water basin, and doused in cool water again, this time to remove all the suds. Then my bather asked if I would like my hair washed.
Absolutely!!!
After the hair wash and scalp massage, we were escorted out of our bath, past the germy marble slab and out of the steam room. We were then given new white heated towels and told to take off our plaids in a new dressing room and return wrapped in the towels. After emerging from the dressing room in our white towels, our bathers ceremonially wrapped our shoulders and heads in more heated white towels and then escorted us into a new room where we were offered a lovely beverage and told to relax for a few minutes in an ancient waiting room.
For an American kid, living abroad has its pros and cons. Some of the cons include: never going to a high school football game, not having typical American dating prospects, having to represent “America” when a kid doesn’t necessarily feel like a typical “American.” Ex-pat kids have these challenges, and many more.
However, there are also a number of pros to living abroad as an American kid. One of these pros is that occasionally interesting opportunities present themselves; unique opportunities that only an American kid living abroad could have. Our son Ben recently had one of these interesting opportunities present itself–and he jumped at it.
I won’t go into the long boring story, but Ben is now the Jordan promo guy for a large American children’s television cable network. The network was looking for a young, male voice with an American accent. A number of kids were auditioned, but ultimately Ben got the job. So now, once or twice a week, Ben goes to the studio, records a number of short promo for kids’ shows and then walks out with a wad of cash. An example of one of these promos might be, “Next time on Sponge Bob Square Pants.” or “Tune in Wednesday at 4:30 for Penguins of Madagascar.” He gets paid $10 for each one he does and he has done as many as 22 in one hour.
It’s a sweet gig for a 16 year-old!
As parents, our only fear is that Promo Guy is going to start thinking that it’s normal to get paid this much money for so little work. One night, the studio called and said that they needed him to come in to do one promo. They picked him up, took him to the studio, he did the one promo and they brought him back home–all within one hour. And he made $10 for that. Afterward, he complained a little that he had made $220 before for one hour’s work. But we had to remind him that there are very few 16 year-old American boys that are making even $10 per hour, and he should appreciate that money.
Unfortunately, Promo Guy’s career is going to be short lived. We leave Jordan in June and then the network will have to hire a new Promo Guy. But for now, he’s milking it for all it’s worth. Thursday evening he went in and did 21 spots and tonight he’s doing 6.
Do the math! This 16 year-old American kid is raking it in as the Promo Guy!
The worst part of living abroad, without question, is applying to international schools. I hate it! Hate it! Hate it! Hate it!
Here are three things I would rather do than international school applications:
1. Brush my teeth in hot water for a month.
2. Sleep with kittens licking my face all night.
3. Trip and fall, face first, into my own bowl of lentil soup in the embassy restaurant during the lunch-hour rush.
Nevertheless, I just sent in: 3 student information forms, 6 report cards from the school in Amman, 3 report cards from the school in Taipei, 3 teacher reports, 3 parent input forms, copies of 3 passports, 3 immunization records (from birth), 1 parent information form and 1 contract for enrollment. That totals 26 documents–some with as many as 5 pages. My writing hand is cramped, my eyes are bleary and there is smoke coming from my scanner. But I did it! The documents are, at this very moment, recovering from jet-lag from their long 3 second journey from my iMac in Amman to some school administrator’s inbox in Johannesburg.
After hitting the send button, I raised my arms in the air, threw my head back and yelled, “Yes! I did it!” One more international school application process is in the history books!
It’s not that it has actually snowed all that much. But Amman is a city of hills. And when it snows, those hills turn to black ice, making it nearly impossible to get anywhere. Things got bad enough over the weekend, that the government actually went so far as to ban driving.
So, because I’m a list-maker, here are 10 things I have been grateful for during these days stuck in our apartment.
1. In-floor heating. I love in-floor heating! I prefer it to central heating, radiators or wall heaters. Warm floors mean warm feet. And warm feet bring pure joy.
2. Our small, cozy apartment. Since we moved abroad, we have lived in much smaller spaces than we did in the US. And I have come to love these smaller homes. At about 2300 square feet, our apartment is the perfect size for our family. When I’m back in the US for the summer, I feel that our house is way too big. I have come to love living in a smaller space and having my family closer together. And in the winter, it is just so cozy. Of course, the in-floor heating contributes to the coziness.
3. Our downstairs neighbors who continually send up homemake cookies and sourdough bread. They’re the best neighbors ever! All we ever send down to them is our 10 year-old.
4. Our treadmill. This way we can work off the calories bequeathed by our benevolent neighbors.
5. Netflix, Hulu, AFN, a VPN and YouTube; all of which can just be lumped into two words: the Internet. Besides catching up on entertainment, I’ve also used the free-time and the Internet to put all of my recipes on Evernote–something I should have done ages ago. The Internet has also provided home-bound schooling for the kids–something our international school is requiring so that they don’t have to do make-up days.
6. Good books. Right now I’m reading The Pickup by Nobel Prize-winning writer Nadine Gordimer. It’s the story of a woman’s transition from South Africa to the Middle East–the same transition I will be making this year, but in reverse. Maybe I should write a novel … and win a Nobel Prize.
7. My favorite produce stand. It just happens to be close enough that on Saturday, Jason and I were able to walk along the ice-covered roads and sidewalks and pick up some fresh goods–which has saved us from scurvy and other diseases caused by eating nothing but canned soup and cereal.
8. Yoga pants. I’ve worn them for 5 days straight. My husband tells me they look good on me. I know he’s lying, but I appreciate the effort.
9. Makeup. Which I have not worn for 5 days! My 10 year-old keeps telling me how scary I look, but I DON’T CARE! She’s a lot more honest than my husband.
10. My hilarious teenage boys who keep me laughing with their irreverent humor. I get after them for their inappropriateness, but inside I’m laughing my head off. (Please don’t tell them this.)
Tomorrow we go back to work and school. We will still get to sleep-in because they aren’t starting until 10:30 and 11:00, respectively. Though I know that all good things come to an end, I wonder if the ambassador would mind if I wore my yoga pants for a few more days.
Cecily, our college daughter, came home to Jordan for Christmas. She returns to the US this weekend and since she won’t return to Jordan before we leave here in June, she had a few things on her Bucket List to do before heading back to the Mother Land. One of those things was to float in the Dead Sea. Somehow, she lived here for a whole year and never got in the Dead Sea. Not sure how that happened. And so, because we are super amazing parents who would never deny our offspring a cultural experience, we obliged.
There are a handful of ways to do the Dead Sea in Jordan. One is to pay $60 or so and go to one of the high end resorts like the Marriott, Movenpick or Hilton. Your $60 will buy you access to the resort’s lovely swimming pools, showers and private beach.
A cheaper way to do the Dead Sea is Amman Beach. Amman Beach is a small resort that is just swimming pools, showers and private beach. The pools are average, the showers–below average and the beach is not great. However, Amman Beach is about $15; much cheaper than the pricey resorts. We could have taken Cecily to Amman Beach, but we’re not that high-brow.
Instead, we took Cecily to what we like to call The Ghetto Beach. The beauty of The Ghetto Beach is that it is free–and free is truly beautiful. Unfortunately, nothing else about The Ghetto Beach is beautiful. Everything else is, well … pretty ghetto. Have a look:
This didn’t stop Cecily and her brother Ben from getting into the water.
And floating around in the obligatory Dead Sea fashion.
Jason and I stayed on the beach with the riffraff and their smelly riffraff camels.
The camel guy continually paraded his animal past us in an attempt to entice us into paying for a ride. It was tough, but somehow we managed to withstand the temptation.
Not to be outdone by the camel guy, these characters were hoping that we would pay for a ride on their horses. Luckily for us, Jason grew up on a cattle ranch and thus refuses to pay money to ride a horse.
And so, our feet remained firmly planted on the litter-strewn ground:
After the kids emerged from the water, we noticed this shepherd and his sheep — which I’m assuming had just done their business in the same water the kids were floating in.
This morning, Cecily started complaining of an earache and swollen glands. Not sure if it’s related to any of this. There is no way to tell.
But rest assured, we definitely did not overpay for this memorable cultural experience!
1. Cooked and cooked and cooked some more; followed by gorging and giving thanks with these fine people:
And these slightly smaller, yet equally fine people:
2. Spent a couple of days pretending to be the Queen of Sheba at the Marriott Dead Sea Spa and Resort:
I know, wrong body of water.
With this hottie footing the bill:
3. Spent an evening singing Christmas carols with these adorable orphans at the St. Vincent DePaul orphanage. Got to speak Italian with the sweet nuns who run the place.
I’m convinced that this little beauty is going to grow up to be the next Cindy Crawford:
Six Abroad 