Barcelona to Abu Dhabi: Friday in Wadi Rum
It thrilled our hearts to see the Jordanian flag on the pilot boat leading us into Aqaba. We later learned that Abu Dhabi has plans to take over port management in Aqaba. We wonder how that works?
We lost an hour in transit, so when we docked in Aqaba at 7 a.m. our body time was 6 a.m. We ate a quick breakfast, grabbed our gear (headed for the desert) and met up the Nautica Lounge to get our assignment. We caught up with shipboard friends Ed and Alan, who were headed to Petra, and with Glennys and Blaise. We were on a larger bus, and 43 people, none of whom we knew well. We drove about an hour to the new visitor center.
Arriving at the visitor center, we were pointed to the restrooms and were told to form groups of five or six to ride in the back of the trucks. The trucks and drivers were waiting; we just headed for a truck with several others and it turned out to be a good choice, pure luck, as the guide, Majd, was riding in this truck with the son of the village chief. Majd also turned out to be the tour leader.
We were with a Czech couple now living in Toronto, and a guy from Buffalo, and it was a good group. We had to climb into the truck over the back gate. Actually, this cracked me up, bumping along in the back of the truck, wind in our faces. Once again, it is a relatively cool day, even chill in the shadows, so I am thankful for the bargain kufiyah I picked up in Luxor.
We bumped out through the mountains to a site where camels waited, and there were some petroglyphs on the wall.
Majd said they used to be higher, but an earthquake changed the topography.
I am guessing some of these petroglyphs are more contemporary. Some may be older.
We loaded up and bumped along to another site for taking photos, a short distance away. It was amazing to me to see all the semi-permanent camping set-ups in the wadi. Hard to imagine Lawrence of Arabia and his group of marauders here among the campers.
Then we drove to a majlis-style tent and drank coffee or tea with little cookies. It was a large air-conditioned in-the-style-of-a-Bedouin-tent, with tables and chairs, and there was an outdoor sitting area, where we could imagine at night they might hold campfires.
The bus was waiting to take us back to Aqaba. Alas, no more fresh air in the back of the truck, which I thought was really fun.
People wanted to stop for souvenirs, so Majd called a friend who opened his shop for those who wanted to shop. That reminded me of the old Jordan. It was Friday, the Muslim holy day when people normally have a large mid-day meal with family, but for his friend, he opened the shop. Next to the shop were some less modern structures, probably to contain domestic animals, or maybe camels 🙂
Jordan is a beautiful country, with amazing sights. It’s a pity to have only a short time here, but a short time is better than no time. On the whole, our time actually in Wadi Rum was about an hour, the rest at the tent.
For me, it was just sad. I have such wonderful, vivid memories of how wild and free and beautiful Wadi Rum can be. We used to be able to walk in the long slot canyons.
Now, there is trash all over the Wadi, plastic bags, plastic bottles, a pile of old broken toilets, old tires – detritus of civilization. I can understand why the Jordanians would limit access.
Here I am, a tourist. I remember the days when tourists were rare. We who lived there had to wait for the relatively cool weather in November, and for the full moon, to make the trip. We rode on camels into the Wadi, with a feast of kebabs and salads and bread, and young bedouin men jumping through the fire at night, just for fun. We slept on the sand, still warm from the day’s sunlight. I’m glad we have such a lovely memory; these things are just not possible now.
Forty years ago, November in Wadi Rum: AdventureMan of Arabia 🙂
Heading out into the desert.
What fun, to revisit these wonderful adventures!
Enough nostalgia. We are back at the boat; Aqaba has little going on today, Friday, and most of the action seems to go right by our balcony – it’s a great day for boating.
We unbundled ourselves, then went for lunch at Waves. We split a Surf and Turf (steak and lobster) sandwich, and I had some salad, And AdventureMan had a strawberry shake.
After lunch, while AdventureMan went to the steam room, (the spa is being cleaned out and maintained) I did a load of laundry to make sure I have enough clothes to get me through the rest of the trip. Actually, I kind of like doing laundry; it is not hard, and it is sort of meditative.
For dinner, Ashok brought us an appetizer, and then dinner – two onion soups, smoked salmon, a mezze plate and we split a creme brûlée. We eat in our nightclothes and sit on our balcony as we pull out of Aqaba and floated south past the border with Saudi Arabia. A lovely, quiet, private evening.
Once again, a day of surprises. The happy part was that it was cool, not hot, and I was happy to have my new kufiya with me. We were glad to be with another good group in the back of the truck; we had some good conversations. The downside for us was that Wadi Rum has become a place for tourists, and we, who once roamed Wadi Rum on camelback, are now tourists, not people who live there and absorb and learn from the culture. We are nostalgic for our old lives . . . and pragmatically, we are no longer the people who lived those lives.
But the surprises aren’t over! As we leave Aqaba, we are shortly off the coast of Saudi Arabia, where we also once lived, and Saudi Arabia has these huge electric signs to greet cruisers.
I believe the first one is the Muslim shahada, profession of faith that there is no God but God, and Mohammed is his prophet. It is HUGE:
I have no idea what this one says, but maybe it is a blessing for those on boats?
All in all, a great day.
“How Do We Cope With the Ignorance of the American Citizen?”
I had a group in town this last week, a group I loved, and the head of the GCCDC did a fabulous itinerary for them, matching their needs for information with the best resources available in Pensacola. I am proud to say that Pensacola did herself proud taking care of these visitors, giving them meetings with people who understand their particular needs and facing similar challenges. The focus of this group was governance and fiscal responsibility; I always love these subjects and learn a lot with every visit I facilitate.
The group was friendly, and made friends everywhere they went. They were superb ambassadors for their country.
I thought the group coffee was going particularly well; important topics were being discussed openly. Then one of our local participants asked one of my favorite questions:
“What about your visit to our country has surprised you the most?”
There were several answers about the kindness of the people, the beauty of the area, and then one very experienced and thoughtful delegate said “Please, tell me, how do we cope with the ignorance of the American citizen?”
By this, he was referring to the fact that although his country and our country have long been close allies, most Americans have no clue where the country is on the map, much less the serious issues and challenges which have faced this country for decades. A few might know the name of their leader.
It’s not as if we don’t have resources. We can Google anything. We can find enormous amounts of information of world geography and events. We don’t. Our schools teach a very limited amount of world geography, world history, world civilization, with little emphasis on any importance of understanding how our nation intersects with others.
His question echoes in my mind.
I once thought as more Americans lived overseas, as they travelled, as a nation our policies would broaden, become more sophisticated, more global, more oriented to the greater good.
While there are many people still working toward the goal of the greater good, I am feeling like moving forward has mostly halted; that the concept of “the greater good” has lost its compelling motivation to the reversion to a narrow focus on national interest.
I fear for the lack of international studies and understanding of global geography being taught our children, that the ignorance of today might be compounded in the citizens of tomorrow.
Spectacular Beauty in Bryce Canyon, UT
We wanted to see the sun rise in Bryce Canyon, so we chose to have an early breakfast at the rustically beautiful Bryce Canyon Lodge.
“Why didn’t we stay here?” asks AdventureMan, although we really love the cabins where we are.
“I can’t remember,” I reply, miserably, because I really can’t remember. When I was originally making plans it was for earlier in April, and I discovered all the best places were already booked! It was Easter, and Spring Break, and although I thought I was booking way early, no, I wasn’t.
AdventureMan also reminded me about the snow-in-the-pass issue, so I moved the trip almost four weeks later, and we are still running into snow-in-the-pass as well as snow almost every place else, too. It’s just little patches of snow, and occasional flurries of snow, which quickly pass and leave no trace.
Plus, I’m an Alaska girl, remember? I have a wardrobe of hooded sweatshirts and jeans, beautiful German boiled wool coats, which I considered investment clothing, knowing we had a house waiting our return to the Pacific Northwest in Edmonds, WA. While I may be a sartorial fish-out-of-water in Pensacola, FL, I KNOW how to dress in the chill mountain temperatures, and I am happy!
But I will let you decide for yourself. Temperatures are, indeed, chill, but just look at this light! Look at the sunlight, the blue skies, the way the patches of snow make the greens look greener and the gives the reds more depth. This day is one of the happiest days in my life; there is beauty on this earth which no human hand can create nor capture.
Breakfast at the Bryce Canyon Lodge was a lot of fun. I had the Bryce Canyon Breakfast, two eggs, bacon, potatoes and toast. I asked the waitress just not to even bother with the potatoes, and she listened. She also kept my coffee cup filled, and was efficient without making us feel in the least bit rushed.
Bryce Canyon Lodge exterior
Bryce Canyon Lodge entrance from parking lot
Bryce Canyon Lodge lobby
Bryce Canyon Lodge display of local arts
As soon as we had finished breakfast, we walked straight out from the lodge to a place about half way between Sunrise Point and Sunset Point. This early in the morning, before too many of the tour buses arrived, we were able to take advantage of the light and have a great walk, from Sunrise to Sunset 🙂
I can’t help it. If you were in Bryce Canyon with me, you would also be taking photos like crazy. You know capturing such beauty and such grandeur is just not possible, but something within begs you to try; you want to take a little bit of it all back with you. I am sorry for you, you are going to have to put up with all my photos, my babies, my pieces of grandeur, which one would you have me sacrifice?
There is beauty to the left and grandeur to the right, everywhere you look. This is one of the most spectacularly beautiful places I have ever been.
Rainbow bridge
This reminds me of the Heidelberg Castle, like a huge long castle defense
There were a surprising number of children in this park. I say surprising, because it truly is dangerous, on the same scale as Grand Canyon, this is nature, not Disneyland. Not everything is roped off or gated, you are expected to use good judgement and not get too close to the edge. In my opinion, unless you keep your child on a leash, you are taking a chance taking a young child to Bryce Canyon. Wait until they are 10 or so, and understand the dangers.
At Yovimpa Point, I was taking a photo, near the edge, and was steadying myself against a tree. When I stood up, fast, I whacked my forehead on a tree limb. First it swelled, then it showed a long cut and gorgeous bruise. I felt like a true wild woman, or a pirate, with my colorful head wound.
Bryce Canyon is a wonderful place to walk, with great walkways. Yes, this one has rails. Not all the trails do.
All these viewpoints have cute names. This one might be Balzac? Or Queen Victoria? I took it because I loved the contrasting greens, and snow, with the rusts and oranges, and the mountains dim in the background.
These eroded sandstone pillars are called Hoodoos. You can buy all kinds of sweatshirts and T-shirts (we didn’t) that say “I hiked the Hoodoos in Bryce Canyon”
I’m pretty sure this is Thor’s Hammer.
This narrow canyon reminds me so much of our camel trips in Wadi Rum, near Petra, in Jordan.
After another best morning of the trip 🙂 we have lunch at the Bryce Canyon Lodge; I have a particular reason, they have an elk stew. We used to eat elk when I was a kid and I didn’t remember what it tasted like. There wasn’t a lot of meat in the stew, mostly carrots and potatoes. The elk seemed a lot like ground beef.
There is no such thing as “enough” when you are taking photos at Bryce Canyon. We loved all the places we travelled on this trip, but in retrospect, Bryce Canyon was the most stunningly beautiful place we visited. We were glad, really glad, we did it in May, before schools get out and there are even more people in the park. Many many were from other countries, and we were happy to see them. Astounded, really, at how many Chinese there were.
China Town, Fan Tan Alley and I Get Some GOOD Chinese Food
We try to limit what we attempt, when we travel. If we try to do too much, we sometimes fail, or we get so busy trying to accomplish that we don’t really get to enjoy what we are doing. Or worse, we get cross with each other, crabby! On our vacation! So we make choices, AdventureMan wanted the Victoria Butterfly Gardens; I wanted GOOD Chinese food.
Our son knows us. When we decided to settle in Pensacola, to be near him and the coming grandchild/ grandchildren, he sat us down and told us things we needed to know about Pensacola. The first thing he told us was that there was no really GOOD Chinese food. Honestly, for me . . . well, I don’t want to say I thought twice, but no good Chinese food? Chinese food is my comfort food!
We asked the concierge at the Grand Pacific for a recommendation for GOOD Chinese food, and she, with great delight, directed us to the Fan Tan Cafe in China Town, just a short walk down Government Street. It was an easy walk, past the grand historic Empress Hotel (we didn’t stay there because the views, in my opinion, are not as good), and down one of the most fun shopping streets in the world to China Town.
We know we are getting close 🙂
The entrance to China Town on Fisgard Street
Fan Tan Cafe – it’s small, and crowded. You are bottom to bottom with the chair behind you and you are almost sitting next to the next table. It’s fun. You get to see what everyone else is eating. We were hungry, we were early and that was a good thing because we got a table. There are maybe 16 – 18 tables at the Fan Tan Cafe, and some of those are for two people. They do take reservations.
This was the absolute best. AdventureMan chose the Spicy Shrimp appetizer, and it was delicious, top to bottom. Even the bedding vegetables were delicious. This was the highlight of the meal.
We didn’t intend to order deep-fried pork. It was good, very General Tso kind of taste.
The scallops and shrimp in black bean sauce was too delicate for us. We decided everything about it was beautiful, and the problem is probably more our palate, which likes more intensity.
All in all, it was a very tasty meal. If we were to go back, which we will the next time we are in Victoria, I would try the Cantonese Chow Mein, or one of the noodle dishes for which they are famous. We saw them all around us, glistening and gorgeous, and they looked divine. Cannot wait to go back 🙂
I still miss the Taiwan Tourismo, in Jordan, where we had authentic, amazingly tasty Chinese food and never even knew how extraordinary it was. I miss the China Queen, later the Great Wall of China, in Mahboula, Kuwait, a little hole in the wall where the Chinese workers ate and I could point and say “I want that, please!” Real Chinese is different from North American Restaurant Chinese.
Sedona, the Beautiful
We are up before sunrise (having our bodies still on Central Time has its advantages) and head for Red Rock Upper Drive, where we wait for the first rays of the sun in utter privacy, except for a family of hikers, with their hiking sticks, who shout ‘good morning!’ as they hike past our viewpoint and head on up the hill.
And here it is! Our first Sedona sunrise! (We didn’t get up for any of the others, LOL)
The early light hits the red stone opposite:
And every morning, there were balloons over Sedona while it was still cool in the mornings.
It is still chilly in the early morning, but Spring has begun. By noon, it will be in the 70’s (F).
This was one of my favorite formations, in Boynton Canyon, near the hiking trails. It reminds me of Petra, and our camel treks into the lands of Lawrence of Arabia.
Lots of hiking trails here:
This totally cracked us up. We know primitive roads. We went over a road in Tunisia that Montgomery used when he flanked Rommel’s forces. THAT was primitive. I was outside the car, guiding AdventureMan over ruts as deep as our Volkswagon Bus. These roads are not paved, but they are passable. Primitive is in the eye of the beholder.
This is the only purple cactus I ever saw. Clearly it is related to the prickly pear, if it is not a prickly pear. I wonder if it is like hydrangeas; that you can change the color of the prickly pear by adding iron or something else to the soil? This was at an entrance to a new housing development that is just beginning; the houses will have pretty spectacular views.
Sedona is beautiful. Everywhere you look, there is something beautiful to see. Of all the beautiful places, Crystal Creek park was my favorite. It had all the elements – red rock formations, a rippling creek, and a hungry heron. It also reaches a powerful vortex, at the base of Cathedral Rock, and we hiked the trail, took photos, enjoyed a lot of positive energy, but I don’t think we were sensitive to the vortex.
Red Rock State Park is another of those wonderful parks created and maintained with public funding, and manned by happy volunteers. We met several here, this wonderful guide, who gave us a first rate explanation of all the geological formations, and volunteers who ran the gift shop and museum/gallery.
Sedona has stolen our hearts 🙂
The Nomadic Life: Our Journey to the American SouthWest
We still get restless. AdventureMan still gets calls asking him to come check something out, even goes back to Doha now and then, and I visit family. But we get so restless. We need the stimulation and challenge of other ways of seeing things, other ways of thinking, new sights, new smells, new adventures. There are so many places I have never seen!
Some people are just wired that way. I can remember, even as a young girl, being at the Juneau Airport, smelling that aviation fuel smell, and wishing I were going somewhere. It’s just the way I’m wired. I still love the smell of aviation fuel.
I am so lucky to be married to a man who indulges me. AdventureMan isn’t wired precisely the same; he is better at growing roots than I am, but he still likes to shake things up a little when it’s all same same same, day after day.
We’ve both had to adjust. I grew up in a family where when we were going, say from Germany to Italy for a vacation, we got up early and went, as AdventureMan so colorfully puts it, “balls to the walls” driving 12, 13 hours until we dropped from exhaustion. We were just intent on getting there. AdventureMan’s family traveled in shorter segments. It’s taken us about 40 years to find a happy medium. He has adjusted to sharing the driving with me. I’m a good driver, and I love driving. He goes to sleep, and I can drive for hours, it’s sort of a zen thing.
So off we went. We put over 6,500 on my two year old car, more than doubling the total mileage. It was a wondrous and joyful journey, full of surprises, full of delights, and with a couple days of truly awful driving.
We packed too much. When you are going someplace every couple days, you really don’t need a lot of clothing. I worked out of a large duffel; I would put what I needed for the next day or couple of days in a smaller bag to carry into the hotels.
At our church, we collect toiletries for the homeless population in Pensacola and the recovery population. I came back with a lot of toiletries 🙂
Our first day was to Beaumont, TX. No particular reason to stop in Beaumont, it was just a good place to stop en route to where we were going, which was The National Butterfly Center and the National Birding Center, both of which happen to be in Mission, TX. Mission is right on the border, on the Rio Grande, and I have never seen the Rio Grande before and wanted to see it.
When lunchtime came, we were just passing Baton Rouge, where one of our very favorite restaurants, Al Basha, serves mouthwatering Arabic food. It’s just off I-10, we can see it from the road and what a great way to start our journey. But as we enter, every table is filled!
No worries, the waiter hurries over and leads us to a table way in the back, against the wall, which happens to be my favorite place. They have stuffed vegetables on the menu, which AdventureMan orders in a heartbeat, and of course, too much food comes.
We first became acquainted with stuffed vegetables long ago, living in Amman, Jordan, where it was a very common dish, served to family and to guests alike. Later, living in Kuwait, my friends knew how much AdventureMan loved stuffed vegetables and would make extra for him when they were preparing food for family or gatherings. What great memories this lunch brought back!
Louisiana is a quirky state, a state we like a lot. At a gas station near Lafayette, we saw three restaurants and an antique shop, including one with Lebanese food.
By the time we got to Beaumont, it was nearly dinner time. Beaumont is an oil refining town, and the hotel was full of men working in the refineries or about to be hired to work in the refineries. It was a very male populated environment. I went to the pool, but there was a large group of men sitting out on the patio by the pool, and I didn’t stay long, I wasn’t comfortable. It reminded me of the Middle East. I don’t like being oogled.
We were still so full from our Al Basha lunch that we found a local supermarket and got salads for dinner. It was a great first day on the road.
Hummus Opens in Pensacola
One of the reasons we loved moving to Pensacola way back was the Mediterranean restaurant at the corner of Cervantes and Perry – long gone, and now the new addition to AK Suter Elementary School – and the we were delighted when we found it again over at the corner of 9th and Creighton, as Mediterranean Plus. The food was so good, so authentic, and every time our old Middle East hands would come into town, it’s where we would go for a nostalgic evening. We were desolate when Mediterranean Plus disappeared.
In December, as we drove down 9th from Cordova Mall toward Pensacola, we saw a sign saying “Hummus” and we checked it out. They were still renovating and getting ready for a grand opening. A week ago, our son called and said he had been there, it was open, and it was almost the same menu as Mediterranean Plus.
We went there as soon as we could. In a small strip mall with a gas station, under a red awning, Hummus is open. When you walk in, it is clean and bright, there are Middle East products on several tall white shelves, and a display case full of fabulous desserts – at reasonable prices. Three kinds of baklava! Kanafi! While they have a loyal support base among the local Muslims, the head waiter was quick to tell us that the specialities are truly Mediterranean, and that a local Jewish rabbi is one of their favorite patrons, too.
The dining room is serene in a Celadon green with framed botanical prints of palm trees, very quiet, very restrained, very welcoming.
Before we ordered our meals, we ordered mint tea, and when it arrived, it came with honey, a full pot of very hot water, which was generously refilled:
We started with falafel, perfectly delicious, home-made falafel.
I ordered the Chicken Curry Soup; AdventureMan ordered the Red Lentil Soup. He has always loved that soup, and greeted it with the delight you would greet an old friend.
I ordered my old favorite, the vegetable mezze for my main course, and AdventureMan ordered Chicken Shwarma. Total YUMMMM.
There was so much food. We packed up about half to take home, but could not resist finishing our mint tea with two of the pistachio baklava. It was the perfect ending for a wonderful celebration, the opening of a restaurant we can bring our friends to for long nostalgic Middle Eastern dinners in Pensacola.
Look for the signs along the road:
Hummus Restaurant (FaceBook)
3012 N 9th Ave
Pensacola, Florida
What Do You Wear When It Gets Really Hot?
The people in my group last week suffered greatly in the high temperatures and high humidity we are experiencing. I must be adapting a little; I remember being thankful for the breeze.
“What do you wear when it gets this hot?” they asked me, “like around the home?”
I laughed. I learned a thing or two in Tunis, in Amman, in Tabuk and Riyadh, in Kuwait and in Doha. At home, I dress like local women, in long loose dresses.
Or worse. I dress like their maids. In the souks you could find wonderful, 100% cotton dresss that were loose and flowing, and that is good in hot weather so the air can circulate. Some of the dresses were nicer, but the dresses I liked a lot for just being around the house doing what people do, like making sure the dishes are done and a meal prepped, doing a little quilting or reading . . . you could buy these great little dresses for about $3.00 in the souks. Not only were they practical – especially when you live in a house with a cat, and always put on “real” clothes just as you are about to run out the door so you don’t have any cat hair on you – but they came in great colors and prints, designs that made me happy to put them on.
Now, one of my all time favorite dresses, in purple and black, has bit the dust. I liked it because it had some geometrics, and the geometrics changed, and – it was purple. I have worn it for about six years now, and I have worn it out. I mended it several times when the underarm seams ripped:
But now, it has gotten all soft, so soft the material just rips easily with holes that cannot be mended.
I like this dress so much I am saving it and cutting it up so it will have another new life as a quilt 🙂
And I am thinking it is time to plan a trip back to Doha and Kuwait to replenish my hot weather dresses 🙂
Pensacola, A Very Middle Eastern City
We had no idea when we left home this morning that when we got to the school, all the parking spaces would be full and it would be almost impossible to find a seat in the auditorium. It was only 8:45 in the morning, and it was only the Pre-K 3’s who would be performing.
We had forgotten – Pensacola is like the Middle East. Family first, and time off for a Christmas Pageant – well, of course!
Pensacola is not like Seattle, or any of the larger cities. While spread out, it is only around 50,000 people, and the worst traffic is never that bad, not if you’ve driven in Amman, or Seattle, or Qatar, or Kuwait. You may not have to stop while the shepherd and his sheep cross the road, but you can get to downtown Pensacola from almost any part of the city in under 15 minutes.
The parking spaces were GONE. The auditorium was PACKED. Friends were greeting friends, all dressed in the reds and greens of Christmas time.
And then the children marched in, and it was barely controlled bedlam as these young stars spotted parents and grandparents and yelled “Grandpa! Here I am!” and angels and sheep and shepherds and wise men all were carefully lined up to sing their songs and tell us the Christmas Story as only 3-years-old can. Oh, it was not to be missed!
We love it that Pensacola is not a city with a lot of rushing about; people have time to go see their children in the school Christmas pageant, that the teachers take the time to herd these cats so that they can sing the songs, do the motions, and probably, if asked, give a rough outline of what happened on that first Christmas.
It’s all a matter of priorities. Pensacola, like our homes in the Middle East, places a high value on family activities, family time, and a balance of work and family where family time has a cherished place.
Happy 7th Blog-iversary to Me!
Once a year I get to troll the internet looking for cakes. It is so much fun. I had no idea there is so much creativity out there, so much daring. I found a wedding cake that is tilted! Something in me loved it, loved the spirit of a woman who would marry knowing life is often off-kilter and messy.
I love white roses, so this year I have sent some to myself:
Come on by, have some virtual cake with me to celebrate seven years of blogging:
And here, an elegant combination of cake and white roses:
Seven years ago in Kuwait, I started blogging. There was a wild blogging scene in Kuwait, a lively community. Blogs were candid, and many were substantial, dealing (carefully) with political and economic issues in Kuwait. I remember reading and learning, and finally gathering up my courage to write my very first entry, and it has been a recurring theme, cross-cultural communication. I learned so much from my life in the Middle East, Tunisia, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Qatar and Kuwait. I made the most amazing friends. It changed my life and my perceptions utterly.
Of the three Kuwait female bloggers who inspired me to start blogging, Jewaira has gone private, 1001 Nights is a good friend, a mother, and an author 🙂 and Desert Girl is still going strong. Mark, at 2:48 a.m. is also still going strong, so strong that he has been able to leave his full time employment and operate on a consultant basis.
Of course, as any blogger will, I sometimes think of quitting. There are days I find myself with nothing to say, nothing in my life so interesting that I think it is worth sharing, not even a news story worth noting. So I’ve had to ask myself why I continue.
I do it for myself. When I started, I had a reason and that reason still stands. I forget things. This isn’t age-related, it’s busy-life busy-world related; we forget the details.
My Mother saved all my letters from Tunisia. I remember reading them and laughing because at three, my son’s best friend in his day school was a boy he called Cutlet. I know his real name is Khalid, but Cutlet was as close as this little American boy in a French-Tunisian school could get. I had totally forgotten, until I read the letter. So my primary reason for continuing to blog is documentary – just plain record keeping, like an old fashioned diary. Noting things in my daily life or the life around me.
Even now, sometimes I see a post written long ago, usually one of our Africa trips, Botswana, Namibia, Tanzania, Zanzibar, Zambia – will start getting a rush of stats. It thrills my heart. It makes it all worthwhile, knowing something I have put out there is helping others, even years later. Perhaps one day, I will quit blogging, but leave the blog up, with these informational articles.
My stats make no sense at all, one of my biggest stat gainers this year was a news article I tossed off about the prank on the South Korean pilot names after the plane crash landed in San Francisco. It just made me giggle, and I couldn’t resist printing it. It ended up with a life of its own, as many entries do – and you just never know. Someone pins an image and you get a million (ok hyperbole here) hits you never expected.
In the end, I believe that those who keep blogging do it because as Martin Luther once said, “I cannot other.” We do it because something within needs to be expressed, even if it is just some kind of daily record. I know it’s why I blog.
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