International Cooperation: How to
I came across this article by accident, and it communicates how I believe we can make this world a better, safer place – by rubbing shoulders with “the other.”
I spent many years living in Germany and a variety of countries in the Middle East. It was always, initially, very uncomfortable. Slowly, in each country, I met people who were kind to me. At first, I would hear their strange languages as harsh, even hostile. As I rubbed shoulders with them, I came to learn that we had important things in common. Most of my friends were religious, just not the same religious expression as mine. Most loved their families and wanted the best for their children. Some were as suspicious of me as I was of them, and as time passed, surprising thngs happened – we became friends.
This article confirms my own belief – working together, spending time together, diminishes fears and hostilities.
80th Flying Training Wing at SAFB celebrates ENJJPT graduation
KFDX Wichita FallsTYSHIN DAWSON
October 18, 2024 at 9:05 PM
WICHITA FALLS (KFDX/KJTL) — It’s a program unlike any other in the world, where students from the U.S. and 14 NATO countries train side by side to become the best pilots in the skies.
The Euro-NATO Joint Jet Pilot Training Program is one of a kind, and here is why.
“We like to focus on how do we break down that communication barrier, with other nations, how they interact with us, as well as build out those relationships with each other, to kind of further our combat capabilities, around the world, as well as fostering those relations so we can work with them more clearly.”
ENJJPT Wing Commander Jeff Shulman said with so much going on overseas; this program is especially important.
“For some of these nations, we are the sole source and production of their fighter pilots, so if I do not produce quality fighter pilots on time for that nation, they do not have a combat air force, including right now is doing a lot of things in Europe. And he’s right in their backyard. So for them, right, it’s a strategic imperative that my program produces quality fighter pilots on time for the need of minds,” Shulman said.
As you can imagine, these pilot graduates are put through a very rigorous process. They take about a year of training, which involves 12-hour days, 5-6 days a week. These are some of the top academic graduates in the world.
ENJJPT Graduate 1st Lt. Giles Beebe talked about his experience in the program.
“I think, and just has kind of some advantages that a lot of pilot training is doing. Mainly international, working with people from different nations. I think that’s huge for multiple reasons, and really, we have, like, instructors that are worth their weight in gold here,” Beebe said.
His parents praised the mentorship aspect of the ENJJPT Program.
“We could see as our son was going through that, the journey, how incredible the program is in terms of all that mentoring and leadership that’s embedded throughout even before this. It’s really, really quite a program.”
When the call of duty rings, we can proudly say that the aviators who are walking out of this program will be more than prepared to hold the line.
Ghosted – A Happy Ending
Our housekeeper, staying in our house as we travel, sent this photo to us the day after we left Pensacola. This old, wobbly, emaciated cat showed up hungry! She fed him and asked me what we wanted to do.
We’ve never seen this cat before. We have a flock of known outdoor cats we help, and this isn’t one of them. This cat appears wretched. We asked that she continue to feed him, and add some beef broth to make sure he gets enough hydration. She checks with a mutual friend, a cat consultant with Everett Animal Welfare group, who gives us advice.
When we return, he is still alive, and looking a little better, we think. We take him to the vet; the vet requires a name and we decide to call him Sunny, for his always loving and uncomplaining personality.
The vet has sad news. He runs all the tests, the cat is negative for feline AIDS, and other diseases, but his thyroid is shot and his kidneys are on their last legs. He is not microchipped. There is nothing the vet can do, and he tells us to make Sunny comfortable and enjoy these last weeks of his life.
Sunny can barely walk, but he doesn’t know he is sick. He bleeds from the mouth, his teeth hurt him so we buy him special food. He never tucks right into his food, he always politely demands we pet him around the head and scratch under his chin. He rolls on the ground and fondles our shoes. Then he eats. And eats. And eats. He also drinks, but because he is so arthritic, we provide a bucket for him so he doesn’t have to bend down. We are happy, because while he is not strong, he does not appear terminal, and he does not appear to have pain, other than he can barely walk.
And then, last night, he disappeared.
From the day he came, he has not moved around too much, other than to be a little private in his eliminations. When we leave, we always check to see where he is and run for the car. Sometimes, if he is under AdventureMan’s car, we take my car. He is always there, and rises to greet us when we return. He greeted us when we returned from lunch yesterday. I saw him sleeping around 3. And then, we never saw him again.
He didn’t show up for his dinner (!!!) and he wasn’t helping AdventureMan with watering the plants. He was gone, as mysteriously as he had appeared. Ghosted.
He broke AdventureMan’s heart, who had quickly bonded with Sunny. He was up and down all night, checking hopefully to see if he had returned. I was sure he would show up this morning, hungry for breakfast, but no Sunny.
I was just putting away the ironing board when AdventureMan came running out this morning saying “You are NOT going to believe this.” He had his phone in his hand, but I thought maybe he had seen Sunny outside. No, he hadn’t. But he had sent a text to our up-the-hill neighbor, asking her to keep an eye out for this emaciated old cat we had been taking care of.
Her response was astonishing. “That’s Marvin!” she texted. He had disappeared when we left for Paris, and they had been looking for him. Then they got really sick with COVID and had to take care of themselves and lost hope of ever seeing Marvin again. And Marvin returned home yesterday!
I remembered Marvin – a big, fat, fluffy cat who ran around their yard in the company of their ancient aunt, who adored him. That this tiny (maybe 3 – 4 pounds) cat could be Marvin was a shocker, but happy news.
This Sunny, who turns out to be Marvin, is safely home. No wonder he is such a happy cat – he is 18 years old and has been loved all his life. His appearance at our house was a mystery – how could such a weak cat get to our house? Could he have been dumped? The mystery is solved, our neighbor is ecstatic, and we are happy to know that Sonny/Marvin will live and end his life in comfort and a loving environment. She’s glad he was taken care of during the weeks of is absence. I call that a happy ending.
A Bientôt Paris!
We have a family joke – I have an alarm on my phone; I find it very gentle, it is called “Twinkle” and sounds like little stars coming out. That’s how it sounds to me. I use it all the time, and my husband will yell “Time to hustle the bags out to the car!” He hates Twinkle, it reminds him of all our very early morning scrambles to get to the airport, turn in our rental car, lug our baggage to check-in, and all that jazz.
We have an early flight, so when we hear Twinkle, we are up and ready. Our bags are packed. We might wait for a baggage person, but it is 4:45 a.m and our car is due at 5:00 so we take our own bags down (I am proud; I have lived this entire trip out of one carry-on suitcase and one personal item/bag.)
We did the right thing. We awakened the baggage person and the desk clerk; I don’t think they would have awakened us or come for our bags. Our car showed up exactly on time (a Mercedes this time, thank you Tauck, but not a Tesla) and we got to the airport in record time.
We got to the airport and went to line up at Air France and a beautiful airport Air France person asked to see our tickets, and said “Oh! You are on our partner, Delta! Not here! I invite you to walk just over there and you can arrange for your flight!”
So French! Not to be directed, not to be told, but to be INVITED to go elsewhere. We loved it.
We checked our bags, full of dirty laundry, who cares if they don’t show up on time? And we headed to the Air France lounge, which evidently IS a part of the partnership, even if we have to check in elsewhere.
The Air France lounge is huge. The buffet is lavish. The drinks are set out and available at oh-dark-hundred in the morning. There are even showers, if I needed another shower.
We boarded on time, but our flight was late leaving because while boarding, one of the passengers tripped and fell and had to be taken to the hospital, which also required his bags be removed, and it all took time. They made up most of the time, we got to Atlanta in time to catch our Pensacola flight and our son was at the airport to transport us home.
You know me. I’m a happy kind of person. I had a great time; this trip was perfect. I wept. I didn’t want it to end, and I didn’t want to leave France.
Tauck, MS Sapphire and Versailles
Here is the truth; I have never liked Versailles. My first visit was at 16, and even then, the excess offended me. In my adult years, the excess offended me.
This time, while all the gilt and luxury leaves me underwhelmed and a little depressed that we still live in a world where the rich are utterly stupidly excessive, and the poor struggle just to keep a roof over their head, and that offends me, Tauck provided us with a great guide who had a compelling and engaging narrative and successfully threaded us through the thousands streaming through the palace and gardens.
We were divided into groups, and our group started in the gardens, which turned out to be a lot of fun.
My grandson not only has a good eye for a photo, but also has wonderful long arms:
I love their grins, and I love my grandson’s hand on my husband’s shoulder. In these small things lies an expanse of heaven.
You may not notice this, so I will point it out. I work very hard to get photos without the teeming hordes. Every now and then I will throw in a photo to show you how even though this is not yet the Olympic Games, these gardens are teeming with people. If you look deeply into the above photo, you will see tour groups of 20-50 people in clumps in front of the palace.
And now, we are divided into even smaller groups, and our guide is about to take us through the halls of the palace of Versailles. When I say “take us” I really mean slither us, wind us through the crowds. This woman earned my unrestricted admiration for both her narrative, and her ability to herd us through, and to make it look effortless. I would want her at my side in battle.
Have you ever noticed how life is full of serendipity? I have a new friend, and without her, I would never have known that this exhibit of knights, armor, and horses was part of a special exhibit staged at Versailles. I thought it was just part of the normal exhibits. I came across this information through Dr. B, at Museemusings.com, an art historian who blogs on art, culture, and cross-cultural events in Paris. I was looking for information on La Roche-Guyon and my question took me to her blog and I lost hours reading her observations on current exhibitions and happenings in France.
Looking at these photos, I am astounded that I was able to get these shots so clear of the thousands of people milling around, so I will start including some reality shots. Then you will understand my admiration for the guide who efficiently conveyed information and kept us progressing.
In one of my first classes my freshman year in college I had a professor who said “If you remember one thing from a class you take here, your education is a success.” LOL, I can’t remember his name or the class, but I remember what he said.
Here is the one thing I remember from this trip to Versailles. Louis XIV loved to dance, and he loved high heels, and he wore red shoes all the time, and forbade non-royalty to wear heels.
The only reason there appears to be space on the right side of the Hall of Mirrors (below) is because it is roped off; there are so many people you can’t see the ropes.
The day is hot, not as hot as some, but hot inside because of the mass of humanity streaming through the halls. Thank goodness for the cool breezes wafting in through the open doors.
Can you spot the secret door through which Marie Antoinette unsuccessfully escaped?d
I remember one more thing – beds were short because it was believed lying flat made you likelier to die while sleeping, so the kings and queens slept sitting up in very short beds.
I successfully cropped out the hand and body of the woman who kept thrusting her camera in front of mine, and taking selfies.
Our guide took us through a “secret” underground passage to the outside, where we could breathe again.
I actually enjoyed this day in Versailles.
Dinner at Cafe de Paris
Sounds mighty fancy, doesn’t it? The truth is the Cafe de Paris is a lively restaurant just across the street from our hotel. It is full – a mix of tourists and locals stopping by after work. I am running on fumes; we’ve hit 17,000 steps, and I am tired. I am almost too tired to eat, but if we don’t eat, we’ll be awake and starving in the middle of the night, so we step into the Cafe de Paris, and the very kind waitperson seats us immediately in a little alcove, a lovely, comfortable, private table for two right by a wall with a window that seems to have disappeared. We are inside, but we have a great breeze and a view of the Arch.
I order a duck confit, just because I can, because I am in France and not in Pensacola, and duck is on the menu. We were so tired, we can’t even remember what my husband had. We think we remember he had a charcuterie board. First, we had wine, a rich red complicated Bordeaux that might also be why we can’t remember. We know whatever we had was just great.
We were happily surprised by the bill at the end of the meal. It was all very reasonable, especially drinking a good wine. Happy, appetite satisfied, and exhausted, we staggered across the street to the Napoleon and had a great night’s sleep.
“Mom, That is Very Bold”
He looked troubled. He knows living here is one of the reddest counties in one of the reddest states in the country, a sign like this could invite trouble.
“I’ve had the sign for weeks; I was afraid to put it out.” What I didn’t say is that this is Florida. People express themselves in ways I find unacceptable, like shooting at your house, or at the very least, stealing signs that express an opinion they don’t like. I didn’t have to say it. He deals with it every day.
You might think that sign means I am pro-abortion. I am not. I believe abortion is a last, desperate resort. And it is a remedy I want women to have – I want women to make decisions for their own bodies. Not men. Not a legislature. Not a governor.
It was a shock when we amassed enough signatures to get this initiative on the November ballot, not only enough, but way more than enough. The people of Florida want to vote on this and be a part of the decision-making. Right now in Florida, there is a six-week deadline on the pregnancy, during which a person might get an abortion – but that assumes the person realizes she is pregnant and can process and make a decision in that very short time.
Statistics show that since the states began limiting abortions, the number of abortions actually rose. Go figure?
No woman chooses abortion lightly. It is a medical procedure. It costs money. It takes time. It is uncomfortable. Women only choose abortion when the alternatives are unthinkable. Not having the right to choose doesn’t stop abortion, it only makes it a greater burden on women.
So I planted my sign and I hope for the best. I have found that in this very conservative neck of the woods, there are many like-minded people who of necessity keep their heads down. I want them to feel a ray of hope when they see my sign, and maybe, maybe along with voting for Proposition Four, they might even put a sign in their own yards, help others register to vote, or help transport voters to the polls in November.
Bravo, Kuwait!
Bravo, Kuwait, for the first election in years, supplying Kuwait with what the New York Times describes as a “robust” collection of representatives.
As we know, democracy is messy. It is often compared to sausage making – you don’t want to know what goes into it. Having an autocratic leader, however, leads to increasing gaps between the very wealthy and privileged, and those who are at the bottom, working their bottoms off just to put a roof over their heads and food in the mouths of their children.
I look at the turbulence and polarization in my own country and thank God for a breath of fresh air, as this news of the election in Kuwait gives me hope. We are praying for a fair election in the United States.
Jazzy BBQ, a FAO Adventure in Pensacola
We are driving up Davis, because AdventureMan wants me to see a new Halal Market he has found (you can get some wild ingredients in these specialty stores in Pensacola) when he spots Jazzy Bar-B-Q. We continued on to the market, where I found all the exotic and wonderful spices and legumes I used to find in the LuLu and Family Food Stores in Doha, but AdventureMan was still thinking about Jazzy Bar-B-Q, and so today when it came time to think about lunch, he knew just where he wanted to go, and the adventure began.
AdventureMan was a Foreign Area Officer when we were in the military, and to be that sort, you truly have to have a spirit of adventure.
We got to Jazzy Bar-B-Q around noon, but the door was closed and a lady laden with deliveries was just leaving.
“Don’t leave!” she called out. “He’ll be right back. He’s just making deliveries! He’s my son!”
We drove around the block for a better parking spot and she was just about to leave. “Here!” she said, thrusting one of the delivery sacks in our direction, “I want you to have this to nibble on while you wait.”
“Oh no, oh no,” we said, but this dear woman insisted, gave AdventureMan the container, and drove off saying she was calling her son to tell him we were there.
Ribs, chicken wings, greens and mac ‘n cheese. All very tasty! AdventureMan held off, but I had a wing and a rib while we waited.
Very soon, Phil arrived, unlocked and invited us in. In reality, he is a noted musician, and the restaurant was started by his Mama, who also does some of the cooking. For example, for tonight he has jumbo shrimp in an Alfredo sauce for his dinners. He has a lot of customers who aren’t able to get out anymore, and the food he creates is more of a ministry than a business. He cooks with love.
We were the only ones there, and as Phil fixed our meals, he told us about his family (originally from Pritchard, Alabama, then many years as New Yorkers, then to Pensacola) and his customers. It reminded me of the kind of hospitality we often received in the Middle East, listening to stories as food was created.
Phil sent us out with so much food, and a green pepper that after we eat, we are to salvage the seeds and use them in our garden. We brought it home – it was all delicious. I was especially glad he had greens, and they were amazing.
I ordered the rib plate, and I got enough ribs for a week! AdventureMan ordered the pulled pork sandwich, and got two!
(Sorry, we had already tucked in when I remembered to take a photo.)
Long story short. Jazzy Bar-B-Q is more than just food; it is also about those who prepare it and those who are eating it. We loved this experience, and we will be going back.
Barcelona to Abu Dhabi: Four Days on the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden
There are times, believe it or not, that even I, the word-smitten Intlxpatr, am at a loss for words. For one thing, while part of my writing is documentary, in case I get old and forget my great adventures, another part is because I really do love writing, and sharing what I have learned. For me, another part is that I have discovered as I write, I tap into a part of me that is figuring things out I don’t even know I am thinking, and I look at what I have written, and I am a little astounded, and then I have to ponder, mostly thinking “where did that come from?” Lastly, I try to be entertaining, in case anyone is reading this but me.
We never thought we were cruisers. We have always considered ourselves independent travelers, and we were fearless. On our first attempt at cruising, on a one-ship line that no longer exists (Voyages to Antiquity), we went on a cruise called The Passage of the Moors, starting in Seville, Spain, and going to a variety of places in Morocco, then returning to Spain. It was a real eye-opener.
In our hotel in Marrakesh, we had dinner with a disgruntled cruiser, a man who was annoyed we were spending so much time off the ship, touring cities and sites, and not spending enough time at sea. “This isn’t what I call cruising!” he complained as we ate exquisite food in our five-star hotel after our visit to the Djem al Fna.
AdventureMan and I were high as kites; we had exited the group after lunch in the caravansarai and toured the souks ourselves, ending with settling ourselves in a delightful restaurant overlooking the Djem al Fna and spending a couple hours enjoying the spectacle. We speak Arabic, we can read the signs, and we’ve been here before. We were high on being alone again, not part of the group, and creating our own brand of adventure.
Four days at sea is heaven for a lot of people. This part of the trip excited me, going along the coastline of southern Egypt, Saudi Arabia, the Sudan, Eritrea, Djibouti, and the coast of Yemen, places I have not yet explored and never dreamed I would have the opportunity. This was exciting to me!
I loved that we have these interactive maps in our cabins, so we know where we are in relation to the geography.
And this is what we saw:
Above are little islands off the southern coast of Saudi Arabia / Yemen.
Our greatest fun every day was hitting the spa, early in the morning. We always had it all to ourselves. I would awake early, head up to Horizons for coffee and catching up on e-mails, then go back to the cabin to find AdventureMan. We would go to breakfast. We would go to the spa. On our first day at sea, we had some excitement.
We spent about a half an hour in the pool, relaxing, exercising and soaking up some early morning sun. We are just finishing up and stretching out on a double lounge when the ship’s captain announced a Pirate drill.
A pirate drill! Passengers were asked to leave all outer decks and balconies and shelter in the interior of the ship. I made my way down to our room and sheltered in our bathroom, which is interior, to shower off all the salt water from the spa.
All this and it isn’t even 10:30.
We read a lot of books. We went through the Bab al Mendeb (the Gate of Tears) a choke point in the sea world, particularly strategic for transporting oil and gas. This is what Wikipedia tells us:
Etymology. Arabic بَاب اَلْمَنْدَب (bāb al-mandab) means “Gateway (Bab) of anguish”, or “Gateway of tears”; the strait derives its name from the dangers attending its navigation, or, according to an Arab legend, from the numbers who were drowned by the earthquake which separated Asia and Africa.
There were no announcements on board, no mention of the nature of the terrain through which we were passing. The majority of the passengers were either clustered around the tiny swimming pool or relaxing in their cabins.
Visibility is poor.
As we exited the straits and turned toward Oman, off the coast of Yemen, the waters became more turbulent.
As we were bouncing along in the back of a truck into Wadi Rum yesterday, we were talking with the Czech couple who had – just co-incidentally – been on several trips with this same ship’s captain. They had dinner with him now and then, and one of the things he told them is that most passengers who take the long cruises, the really long cruises, longer than our 21 days, get really bored and critical after the first couple weeks. The captain said they go to extraordinary lengths to keep the passengers from getting bored.
I cannot imagine. 21 days is long enough for us. There are activities. Today a woman is talking about Egyptian painting of the tombs, and another speaker will talk this afternoon about the future of weather. There are two women who teach bridge, and there is a crafts lesson this afternoon on how to make a ribbon bracelet.
Oceania’s major selling point is “the Best Cuisine at Sea.” There is a lot of emphasis on the food, the specialty restaurants, wine tastings, and special dinners with wine pairings.
We like good food. We like good wine.
We are going back to Toscana, the Italian restaurant, tonight. AdventureMan would like to try the fish he saw Buti deboning the other night. I like the angel hair aglio oglio pasta. They have good roast vegetables. We enjoy the meal.
The days at sea loom large and even good readers can go a little stir-crazy. There is a great library – and, as I said, a lot of focus on food, what will be served where, how it will be served, and who snagged reservations to the specialty restaurants.
The demographic on the Nautica is interesting. We learned from another passenger that 50% of the people on this cruise are first-time cruisers with Oceania (that would include us.) My guess is that most of us first-timers are destination driven, and we check that out as often as possible, talking with our fellow passengers.
Our fellow passengers are probably 60 – 70% American. The second largest percentage would be British or Canadian, and then there is a scattering of Australians, New Zealanders, etc. There are probably 2% Japanese, Chinese, and Korean. There is a Nigerian couple and the Czech couple, but both of those are now Canadian.
It’s an interesting mix and a very well-traveled mix. I haven’t met anyone on their first cruise. We are encouraged to “grab a drink and make a friend,” and it is easy enough to do; there are all kinds of opportunities to meet other people and get to know them, whether in eating venues or on shore excursions.
Mostly, we like to mix on shore excursions and up in the Horizons Lounge, where tea is served at four. We have actually only shown up for tea once – it is heavily attended on sea days, and we don’t like crowds. We head up to Horizons on days when people are elsewhere, and often run into people we’ve met on the excursions or even in our hotel in Barcelona. One kind woman and her husband spent a night off the ship with friends in Haifa; she shared a wonderful cracker recipe with me full of seeds and good things. It tasted of sesame and was light and healthy. Another couple is Ed and Alan, from San Diego, who won’t be getting off the ship until South Africa – a very long trip. They were supposed to go to Qatar, and then, suddenly, Qatar was scrubbed from the itinerary, and Saudi Arabia was added. Then Saudi Arabia was scrubbed and Bahrain was added. You have to stay flexible. We learn a lot by listening to our new friends.
Our housekeeper back in Pensacola, sends us photos that assure us our cats, Ragnar and Uhtred are feeling secure and doing well (Ragnar chews on things when he is anxious.) She tells us Pensacola is very cold – in mid-November! This is unusual, but the world is changing and we have to keep on our toes.
We eat our lunch at the Terrace, the weather is so much warmer, and the sea temperature and the air temperature are the same – 86 degrees F. The captain tells us how deep the water is underneath us – 1000 feet. There is a part of me that wishes he wouldn’t tell us.
We read during the afternoon and AdventureMan naps. Out on the balcony, it is almost too hot, and sultry. People are dressed in tropical prints, shorts, bathing suits and cover-ups.
The sun goes down very suddenly, and it is time to get ready for dinner. The FIFA World Cup in Doha continues to get mixed press, but Nautica will carry some of the matches, a really good call for Nautica, as this is a time when passengers can get bored and cause trouble.
On Sunday, we have a church service, interdenominational, held in the Nautica Lounge. The cruise director, Carson, tells us he originally trained as a Youth Minister, his family built a Baptist Church in Tennessee, but his sermon is very Episcopalian, very scripture based, on the two major commandments and The Good Samaritan. His message is that “we are to go and do likewise,” like the Good Samaritan, who nursed the stranger and cared for him. He tells us that we are 23 nationalities of passengers on board, and 49 nationalities on the crew. He tells us that when we travel, we meet the stranger and discover he is like us. It is harder to hate when the stranger becomes familiar. I loved the sermon. I am able to share it with AdventureMan when I get back to our cabin. We had minutes together before he left for his lecture on Egyptian Tomb artists.
When he got back we decided to go to the Grand Dining Room for a Sunday Brunch, which seems to be a big deal. When we got there, there was a long line, a big crowd, and the Grand Dining Room is entirely enclosed.
AdventureMan looked at me and I looked at him and we walked away, quickly, up to the Terrace dining room where we could sit outside. We discovered much of the food was the same, only not crowded, and plentiful. As we left, passed our table along to Miguel and Marguerita, our next-door neighbors.
It’s a quiet day. I did a couple Sudoku, and plan to go through and eliminate garbage photos. AdventureMan is catching up on sleep. It’s a great day for it.
I like sea days. They give me a chance to catch up. And actually, one is enough, two is enforced luxury, and by the third day, people start to go crazy.
We change times again, losing another hour. I get up early and go up to Horizons to have some coffee and catch up on e-mails. Join AM and we go to breakfast, most of the time at the same table. I eat oatmeal and berries, AM shares a corner of his croissant so I don’t feel deprived. We go to the spa, the highlight of our morning, and loll in the hot sloshing water and then sun for a while on the daybeds. It’s early morning still – we have it to ourselves most of the time, and we don’t worry too much about the sun being too strong early in the morning. The weather has changed. It is definitely hot. I feel lucky that it didn’t get hot and sultry like this until after we left Aqaba.
AdventureMan goes to a lecture on Egyptian magical beliefs; I finish going through all the photos and upload the latest. I teach myself how to Air Drop photos from my computer to my phone. I enjoy the rest.
AM is searching around on our screen (we usually watch the navigation page, as we are going through the Bab al Mendeb and we decide to try the Grand Ballroom for a change, for lunch. When we get there, it isn’t crowded and we like today’s menu. AM has an Indian variety meal, and when finished, asks for more samosas, which they bring him – a lot! I have the peppercorn hanger steak and a “pate’” which seems to be a cooked pate’. We both have chocolate mousse with a tiny amount of raspberry coulis. We are both delighted with our lunch.
He goes to a lecture; I go up to the tenth deck to try to capture photos of Eritrea, Djibouti and Yemen – photos are hazy but show distant mountains.
Dinner comes, I am so totally not interested, but we go to the Terrace for the Middle East Market special. The foods are actually pretty good. I just get tired of eating by dinner time.
I think I am a little bored, and my body tells me I need more physical activity. The walking track doesn’t do it for me. We spend a lot of time taking the stairs, which is good for us both. I see a lot of people really loving the cruising time, pool time, socializing, loving all the food and wine, going to tea . . . I am restless. I need to move. I am missing my laps in the pool!
We are eager to see Salalah.
AdventureMan and I often visit places that we see very differently. We have visited small villages where AdventureMan says “just kill me now! I would drink myself to death if I had to live here!” and I am already mentally buying sheep’s wool and learning how to spin it into thread and yarn, weaving on a large loom.
So I am thinking what I would do to survive if I had to live on a ship for a long time between ports. I think I would have to organize. It’s what I do. I would start a book club. I would find people interested in theology and start a monthly meeting sharing different viewpoints. I would find fellow Episcopalians and schedule early morning services or Compline – surely there is an Episcopal minister aboard among all these people on board. I would start a ports series, where we share with one another what we know about the upcoming port. We would find small tour operators to take us to out-of-the-way places, to meet with local craftspeople, or to have a meal with local people.
Organizing takes a while, you have to be patient. Once I had a few things going well, I would stretch, create some interest groups, like a stitchery group – only I would also include crew members who shared the same interest. While now, there were women teaching bridge, I could imagine a weekly match-up of all bridge players, including crew; it would be both democratic and keep things interesting. Challenging.
I like a little more purpose to my life.
Barcelona to Abu Dhabi: Safaga to Luxor
We docked in an industrial port in Sfaga, no getting off and wandering around. We have breakfast in our room, beautiful, quick and easy. We have to wait a while until the Egyptians have examined and stamped our passports.
All departing passengers gather in the Nautica Lounge – we are number 20, one of the last to go. We go through exit procedures (facial scan, Egyptian inspection) and discover we are on a small bus, a group of only eight people, for the next two days. We don’t know any of them, but we feel very fortunate to be with a very small group. We are happily surprised. We had thought we might be on a large bus with coughing and sneezing people and need to mask.
This is a very popular location. There are all kinds of trips going out, to various locations for various amounts of time. The buses are all lined up, and the immigration center we all have to go through is on the far left.
Another happy surprise is that the weather is cool on the ship, and cool in the morning, cool enough to need a scarf. (This night, for dinner, I will need a sweater over my dress.) This is a happy surprise. I really hate being too hot.
We are on a two day trip, today and tomorrow with an overnight in Luxor.
Almost immediately, Merv, our guide, has us introduce ourselves. We are traveling with Steve and Becky from Austin, Dave and Patricia, from Toronto, and Tom and Deb from Vancouver. We have a long drive, through the stark mountain area of Egypt (!) and then along the luscious, fertile valley of the Nile, where I take almost all my photos. Steve and AdventureMan discover they have lived just miles from one another. All our fellow passengers are well-traveled. Becky has some mobility issues, but does a great job and never complains.
When you think of Egypt, do you think of mountains? I never did. This first stretch we cover is full of desert and stark mountains, and I envision Moses, shepherding for his father-in-law and his encounter with the great I Am, in a bush that burned and was not consumed. I could imagine long treks with the sheep to find enough to eat, and long days to think about things.
My Arab friends always laughed when I would tell them their countries reminded me of growing up in Alaska, but there are wide open stretches that go on forever and harsh climates. In Alaska, you dress for the cold and stay inside through the worst of it; in the Middle East, you dress for the heat and stay inside for the worst of it, and you spend as much time as you can outdoors when temperatures are mild as you can. I am a big fan of dark skies and myriad stars, both Alaska and deserts provide food for my soul.
We make a stop at a rest stop along the way. We were supposed to travel in a caravan, with security, for our protection, but we were last to leave and our smaller bus did not have onboard facilities. It was really nice being able to get out and walk around, but it cost us in terms of convenience later on. Because we had lost our convoy, the police kept stopping us and questioning our credentials. They found us a curiosity. Finally, at one point, a police van led us several miles and vouched for our right of passage. It was an interesting experience. Our tour guide was relentlessly aggressive with the police, and rather than offending them, they were respectful to her.
Our tour guide was a formidable woman, one of the senior tour guides in Egypt. Her assignment with us was her second to last career assignment; she is retiring. What I loved about having her as a guide was that she was so knowledgeable. She filled us in on politics, social issues, and current events, as we drove a couple hours through the rural areas en route to Luxor.
My geographical knowledge of Egypt was slight. Now I feel really stupid. I had kind of thought the Red Sea and the Nile were somehow related, but the Nile is inland from the Red Sea. The micro-climates inland are lush and fertile.
You might see the donkey, but the reason I took this photo is that in our times living in Middle Eastern countries, we often saw rugs drying at service stations, especially those with car washes. The car washes get them nice and clean and have room to hang them so that they can dry. This is a nice, non-humid day, perfect for having carpets cleaned.
One of the things we learned is that Egypt has become more conservative with so many Egyptian men working as guest laborers in Saudi Arabia and other Gulf countries. Egyptian women were at one time freer and better educated and had more civil rights than now. Husbands and fathers returning from stricter countries enforced stricter standards on their daughters, wives, and family members. Interesting, hmmm?
Here is our friendly police escort below:
This is one of my favorite photos – these gourds, which are some kind of pumpkin or squash, are in season, and there are piles of them everywhere! I remember in Tunisia when pumpkins came into season, they were huge! In the market, you bought them by the slice, huge, thick, meaty pumpkins, one of the essential ingredients in couscous.
I remember in Qatar when the Queen found laundry hanging on balconies inelegant and banned it; had a law passed which forbid it. And yet – where were the apartment dwellers to dry their laundry? Laundry continued on the balconies, and I never heard of anyone arrested for it.
Look at this wall, made of recycled broken pots and clay.
There is a line behind the waiting man of little tuk-tuk taxis, many with curtains, with one driver in front and passengers in the back.
We go directly to the hotel once we get to Luxor, check-in, go to our rooms and clean up, then have lunch, which is an international buffet. That means mostly western food. Eating western food in the heart of Egypt was a surprising disappointment to me. I totally get it. Luxor is a huge destination, and Egypt needs the tourist currency. Hotels have to please a large number of people. We were yearning for a good felafel.
The truth is, I did not have high hopes for this part of my cruise. The last time we were in Egypt, we were staying with friends, in Cairo, and we had great adventures. We have actually been to Luxor and Karnak before, and I discovered that I did not like going down into tombs; to me, they are very musty and give me a claustrophobic feeling. I stay above ground and take photos.
I had no idea we would have such a great tour guide; she is a blessing, so full of information and opinions. I don’t always have to agree with her to like her. I respect her! I also had no idea we would be spending so much time traveling through villages where people live their normal lives, and I love it. I’m finding in general the tourist experience is restrictive; we are at the mercy of other people’s schedules, other people’s timing, and where other people find it expedient to take us.
This group is different. The people with whom we are traveling in this small group are all very respectful of being on time and not going missing – in fact, if anyone is guilty of going missing, it is me. I tend to wander off. I make it a point to keep Merv informed about where I will be and to always be on time for departures. She gives me latitude. She allows me to wander – here there and everywhere. 🙂
And, as random as life is, I am so thankful not to be too hot. I am having a great time. I got to go through the Suez Canal! I am going back to Wadi Rum! I am going to sail past Saudi Arabia, and Sudan, and Eritrea, and Djibouti, and Yemen en route to Oman! I am a happy woman!
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