Cyprus

I "woke up" in the sense one can wake up at 3:15am and took a quick shower before I headed out to catch the taxi to my flight in Tel Aviv. Waiting out on the stone bench, now one piece of luggage heavy (I had bought a Lute in the Israeli Market, and tried to mail in home, but no one could find a box the right size to fit the oddly shaped instrument into, so I have to carry it with me until I can find a place that can ship it), a taxi pulled up in front of me and signaled me over. "I take you to Tel Aviv airport" he said, and I said great. "200 sheckels" he added quickly as I was unhooking my backpack. I doubletook for a second, replying "what?! No I payed already. I payed my hostel 70 sheckels for a cab to the airport." "No this special," he told me, "This taxi is special, cost 200 sheckels. You pay hostel 70, this taxi 200." I told him there was no way I was going to pay him 200 sheckels. We argued on until a young man from france walked over, trying to catch the same ride over to the airport which he also already paid for. We both together argued with the driver, either one of us able to understand where this guy was getting his numbers from. He was saying things like, "not Hostel, special price" and something about a special 10 person offer, but there seemed to be only 2 of us. Finally a shuttle pulled up where we were standing, and all at once we both realized we were arguing with the wrong driver. This shuttle was the ride we were looking for, we'd just been haggling with some random taxi driver. So, we loaded our bags into the correct car this time, and drove out of Jerusalem.

As the guy from France and I were talking, he asked me what time my flight was at, and I told him 7:05. "Don't you think that's cutting it a little close?" He told me. "No, it shouldn't be," I told him, and then explained that we were picked up at 4am and then it takes an hour to get to Tel Aviv, and then I have 2 hours to get through security. "It's 5am" he said, "You forgot to set your watch ahead last night one hour." "What?!" And the rest of the shuttle confirmed it. This was not a travel day getting off to a good start.

I got to the airport, and it was now evidently 6:00am, so I ran to the nearest airport attendent and asked her to help me get to where I needed to be. She pointed me to the line I needed to stand in, and luckily the security is so tight that it makes finding where you need to be very easy. I just went where they told me to go, and stood where they told me to stand. I said a little prayer for God to help me get where I needed to go on time, and I caught a glimpse at the departure times. 8:05 is now what my flight time said, not 7:05 like my confirmation said. Somehow God had granted me an extra hour, or someone also forgot the time shift, or both. Whatever the reason, I felt much better. I got to the front of the line, and the attendants called me over to where they had to x-ray my luggage, and pull everything out and put it all back together, however, what they were most interested in was that I was carrying with me two different musical instruments. They asked me a bunch of akward questions, and I told them I was a musician who in my travels had picked up some instruments and was unable to mail them back home. They x-rayed them over and over again, sure that they would eventually find something which was nowhere to be found, and interviewed me as if I were going to give some incriminating piece of evidence away at any moment. When it seemed they'd finally given up the 3rd degree, one attendant told me I'd have to check the fiddle (because of the case it was in), but could carry on the lute, but he offered to wrap it up in bubble wrap for me, to make sure it would survive unharmed. I apprechiated that, so he dissappeared into the back for far too long, and returned with a giant roll of bubble wrap, and then preceded to incase my fiddle in a layer of packaging at least 3 feet thick, and sealed it shut with just as much masking tape. As he was finishing up my fiddle's inpenatrable bubble fortress, a short stalky man whom I later learned was the man in charge, stormed in and they began yelling at eachother in Arabic. He asked me what city I was going to and answered Larnaca. He slapped his head with the palm of his hand, and yelled something I couldn't understand, then he began to yell at me. "You need to leave NOW!" He belted, "your flight is ready to leave at any moment, we need to get you through to your gate RIGHT NOW!" He took my passport, to go to the front desk to get my boarding pass, at the same time having another attendant take me into another room to do the body check. When I came back they had my backpack in pieces all over the desk. They had taken everything out and were going through it piece by piece. The manager handed me my passport and boarding pass, and as I grapped for my bags he stopped me. "No, no no. You can take this (he handed me the lute), and the violin goes under the plane." "What about my backpack?" I asked. "It has not yet been checked, you have to go without it." I tried not to lose it right then and there. "There's no way I'm going anywhere without my backpack." He told me, "You have two choices, you can either leave it to be put on another flight that leaves two days from now, or you can miss your flight and stay here in the airport for two days. You have about 2 seconds to decide!" "You're asking me to enter a foriegn country with absolutely nothing but the clothes on my back for 2 days!" He glared at me coldly, "What's it going to be?" I had to make a desicion, and I stood staring in a daze for what seemed like an eternity. I'd been on a plane with a drunk and unruly passenger, alone in a car with 3 strange Egyptians, slept in the bed of a strange Arab man and his family, lost in the Sahara desert without water, and stuck in a terriorism scare at an Israeli checkpoint, but being separated from my backpack for 2 days was the scariest idea I'd every encountered. "Well?!" He persisted. I grabbed my lute and said, "Please make sure that gets back to me, with everything in it." And just like that, I was rushed through to my gate. On the way, the attendent leading me through (his name was Opher) apologized to me profusely, saying that none of this was my fault, his manager was just a complete idiot and didn't have any right to yell at me like it's my fault. I very much apprechiated Opher's kindness, and trying to calm my nerves. With his help getting me through to the front of every line, I made it onto my flight just as they were finishing boarding the plane. Before I walked onto the jetway out of sight, he said he'd make sure everything got back to me safely, and appologized one last time.

When I landed at the Larnaca airport, I gathered my fiddle from the baggage claim and pryed it from it's bubble cucoon. I stopped by the luggage information area and made them aware of the situation in Tel Aviv, and filled out the necissary forms, letting them know all my information and Andrea's address where I was staying. They said they'd call me as soon as they had anything to report, and my backpack would be sent to Andrea's address. When I had done all I could do, I went to the ATM to pull out some euros to use while I'm staying here. I pulled out 100 euros, but the machine gave me an extra 20. At first I thought, Awesome, maybe it's God giving me compensation for the backpack fiasco, it was enough to cover my ride to Andrea's apartment. However, as I began to walk away I looked at the 20 again. God (in my experience) doesn't work in terms of dollars and cents. It's unlikely that God would give me monetary compensation for emotional hardship. I had two choices, I could take the money, and use it, which would not make me a bad person by any means. I needed it, and here it was to use. However, If I took it, I might be choosing to turn my back on some greater reward. And even if looking at it from a purely "zen" point of view, the very last thing I need right now is bad karma. I turned around and found a service repair man working on an ATM next to the one I used. I told him what happened, and how the machine gave me an extra 20, and handed him back the extraneous note. He thanked me, and told me he'd fix the problem, and I turned around and walked away. I didn't feel any better for giving away free money, I just felt poor. But I have whole heartedly trusted God this far, I need to walk this situation completely by faith, and not try to control the circumstances. That's a very hard thing to do, but it feels, in a way, good to not have any control over my destiny. If I get through this trip alive, it's going to be purely by the grace of God without any doubt to the contrary.

I bought a bus ticket to Nicosia and met an older man who had recently retired, and was traveling like me, around Europe and the Middle East. His name was David. He shared with me some insight on traveling cheaply and safely, and we talked about where we'd both been, and the places we loved. When the bus arrived in Nicosia he shook my hand and said "I'm sure I'll see you again sometime in the future," and we parted seperate ways. I took a taxi from there to Andrea's apartment, and found the entrance to her building. Andrea was still at work, but she left me a spare key to her apartment, and a really sweet note welcoming me, and telling me to relax, and to help myself to anything. I took her advice, and ate some potato chips I found in her cupboard (as I'd had nothing to eat all day). I found by her TV, a box set of Audry Hepburn DVD's, and since they were the only things I could find that were in English, I had myself a mini Audry Hepburn marathon. Eventually, Andrea came home, and I gave her a big hug and thanked her for allowing me to stay in her home. I told her about my backpack situation, and she felt bad and offered up some of her own clothes (that looked somewhat masculine) for me to wear while I was staying with her, at least around the house.

That night Andrea took me out to dinner that this amazing Cypriot resturant with a whole bunch of her friends who welcomed me with open arms. We talked, laughed, drank absolutely amazing Cypriot beer, and ate wave after wave of wonderful Cypriot cuisine. The Cypriot culture is a mixture of Turkish and Greek, but their appitites are most definately Greek. They just eat and eat, and they never gain a pound, but they made fun of me a little because I couldn't keep up with their eating pace. Their food is great though, they put meat in everything, everyone who met me said "You're not a vegetarian are you?" To which thankfully I'm not. I made an effort to make sure I tried everything at least once and found that 99 percent of things I really liked. I even ate snails for the first time and really enjoyed them. Everyone was so friendly, and we had a great time. After dinner we went to a small bar inside the old city walls of Nicosia and I had a margarita, and talked to some of the guys about travel and Cypriot music, and they told me they'd make me a CD of good Cypriot music before I left. When I finally got to bed it was like 2:30am, and I fell right to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, and slept wonderfully.
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Last Day in Jerusalem

This morning I had no tour, and no one I had to meet, so I actually got to sleep in till a decent hour. Once I got up, I tried to head over to the Dome of the Rock, but it was closed once again when I got there. That thing has the strangest, most spurattic hours I've ever seen. They'll close it for a weeked, and then open it one day for like 3 hours in the morning, and then another day like an hour and a half somewhere in the middle of the day. It's ridiculous! So unfortunately, I won't be able to go inside the Dome of the Rock this trip, but I won't lose sleep over it. It wasn't really my top priority thing to see while I was here, and I did get to see the outside of it, and the wall of Solomon's Temple and all that.

I then decided to get some food, and try to catch a bus to the Jerusalem Museum. So I walked over to Damascus Gate, ordered one last Falafel from my coveted falafel stand, and journied on through Damascus Gate to the nearest bus stop. I waited there like 20 minutes just to find out that that bus doesn't go anywhere near Jerusalem Museum. The bus driver actually told me the only way to get to Jerusalem Museum from Damascus Gate was to take a taxi. Like that was going to happen! It'd cost me something like 50 sheckels to get there by taxi. Screw that, walking's free. So I began to walk, in my usual way, vastly underestimating the distance between areas that look so close on a map. On my way down the otherside of a big hill near city center jerusalem, I got to walk through these beautiful botanical gardens, and the weather was also equally beautiful. It was sunny out, and warm but with a cool wind that whips through every minute or so. Eventually, I made it to where I was trying to get, and payed my ticket to go inside. There was one main reason I wanted so badly to go to the Jerusalem Museum, and that was because The Dead Sea Scrolls were on display there. So I located the area where they were being kept, and headed that direction. The scrolls are kept in a white building, that's quite a work of art in itself, which has a cieling shaped like the tops of the jars that the Dead Sea scrolls were found in. There's a continuous fountain shooting up water all over the white structure that, I read, is supposed to symbolize purity and clensing. Adjacent to the white building is a huge black wall which is supposed to symbolize the enemies of the people who wrote in these scrolls. The people who wrote the Dead Sea scrolls referred to themselves as "Sons of Light", and adversely all their enemies were called "Sons of Darkness" and Satan was known as "The Prince of Darkness" which is where we get that term.

I walked into the room where the scrolls were kept and made sure I read every inscription and information plaque that I could, which was so much information, I'm having trouble remembering most of it. The main hallway of the room had exibitions of artifacts found inside the intricate caves that they lived and wrote in. Things consisting mainly of pottery, old sandals, gardening tools, and all the usual remnants of a lost civilization. When I got to the main room which held the scrolls, I was amazed at how well preserved most of them were. I expected to find them ripped, and delapidated and barely readable (which some of them were), but most of them were almost entirely intact like they had been written 10 years ago. Most of the scrolls they recovered were written on parchment, not papyrus like I'd originally thought, and they had recovered almost every book in the bible (I think it had listed like 4 books they hadn't found, all old testament), including the books that make up the apocrypha. I couldn't read any of the ancient text, being that it was all in hebrew, but the wall plaques were saying that when first reading the scrolls, archiologists were absolutely stunned. The translation on these ancient scrolls dating as far back as 200BCE matched perfectly word for word the common translation of the bible you can pick up in any book store, and every scroll found to date is absolutely consistent.

In the middle on a display case artistically shaped like a rolled up scroll, they displayed the whole book of Isaiah. I wish I could of been able to read ancient hebrew, but I've been told that you can actually follow along in your bible as you read along the text on this scroll which is more than 2,100 years old. One thing that really interested me, was just to sit and look at the penmenship of the writers of the scrolls and see how each one varies from the other. The writing isn't absolutely perfect, which is cool. You can still get a little bit of a human feel, and see a particular person's writing style, and the way he shapes different letters differently from another person. It's like a signature, but better, and it comes from someone who lived in the days of the bible. there were also little shards of pottery that they found with random writings on it where the scribes would practice their penmenship, and make sure the ink wasn't going to drip all over the parchment. I guess I just really liked the idea of the history I'd read about, and heard about which happened so long ago, to become real by seeing a scribes random jottings, and very human practicing to begin writing something so monumentally importaint that they devoted every minute of their lives to it. One of my greatest fears as a christian, was that at some point what if the books of the bible had been changed somehow. Not on purpose even, but just translated slightly differently, or given a little something by a person telling it his own way. It was a question I was never really able to answer when asked by a non-christian. The chances of that happening were almost definate. I mean, look what happens in a game of telephone over the course of like 10 minutes. Now imagine that over a period of 2,200 years. However, somehow the Bible managed to survive through all that without being changed even the slightest bit. It's AWESOME, in the true sense of the word.

After seeing the Dead Sea Scrolls, I walked around the art garden for a bit, and enjoyed the scenery. The Jerusalem Museum, it seems, is not so much of a Museum in the way I thought it would be, but really more of a historical art gallery. But then again, a lot of the Museum was closed for renovations, so maybe the traditional museum artifacts were in those buildings. The Art garden was beautiful, but none of the sculptures really spoke to me all that much. I have yet to find a piece of art in all these galleries I've seen so far that I've been truly amazed by. Some of them I thought were pretty cool, but nothing yet has stopped me in my tracks. That may be something to look for in the future.

When I left the museum, I began walking back. I knew that bus number 38 would take me right back to my hostel, so I looked for a bus station with a 38 on it as I walked. I was stopped at a stoplight, when I was joined by a couple people wearing the same T-shirt. They were quickly joined by several more, and then even more after that. I looked behind me to see a giant mass of people, all waiting for the same stoplight. The stoplight changed and I was immediately sucked into the crowd of people. I thought at first this must be a tour group of some sort, many of them looked like tourists and backpackers. I noticed a young girl who had on a small backpack, cap, t-shirt and jeans, but then something else caught my eye. Around her chest she carried with her a loaded M16. In fact, as I looked around me, I noticed just about every other person had some sort of automatic weapon strapped to their chest. Banners were being carried, and flags baring the Star of David. Some were soldiers dressed in uniform, but others were just men women and children, all of which carried automatic weapons. I wiped the look of "What the hell is this" from my face because I figured that might be a good way to start a bad situation, and tried to figure out what was going on. I could now rule out that these were tourists, unless they were on some kind of war tour. Revolutionaries maybe? And here I was marching along side them. This is terrific, I'm about to become a martyr in some crazy revolution, and all I was trying to do was catch my bus. Viva Israel, and I marched on. I finally got up the courage to talk to a very non-threatening girl next me, and asked her what this was about. She said they were a group of people who came from the south of Israel walking to the north to talk about (or in protest of) the problems of Israel. I asked her what the guns were for, and she told me that they're just for their protection. Some of the people walking are soldiers, and others are just people, and so they felt they needed to arm themselves incase their cause was not looked favorably upon in some parts of Israel.

Eventually I found a bus stop for bus 38, and branched off away from my Israeli revolutionary friends. I caught the bus back to my hostel where I arranged for a taxi to come pick me up for the airport at 3:45am so that I could get to the airport in Tel Aviv, and be sure to catch my flight to Cyprus at 7:05am. I decided since I'm not going to be getting a lot of sleep tonight, that I should take the rest of the day and sleep and rest up, so that I'll have some energy to get through my flight tomorrow.

This is my last night in Israel. It's been quite an experience. Tomorrow I'll be in Cyprus for the weekend, and then on Monday or Tuesday I'll leave to Athens, Greece. I have some friends whom I'll be staying with this weekend in Cyprus, Alana and Andrea. They've prepared a place for me at Andrea's apartment I believe, and say they'd love to show me around Cyprus. I'll be getting into Cyprus at 8:00am tomorrow. Please pray for my safe journey, and I'll talk to you all tomorrow from Nicosia, Cyprus.

Tours of Frustration

I was just in a rotten mood today. I got up at 4:45am after only having slept for about 2 and a half hours because I had spent all last night trying to get current with my picture page. I took a shower, and got ready in time to make it to the King David Hotel where I was to meet my tour to the Sea of Galalee, and Nasareth. As I walked into the lobby, I felt my nose begin to bleed, which has happened frequently since I arrived because of the hot, dry climate here. Immedeately, I ducked into the bathroom and took control of the situation. However, while I was in the bathroom, the bus driver for my tour entered the lobby looking for me. According to what they say (however I very much have my doubts, I was not in the bathroom very long at all), They called my name over the loudspeaker several times, however I must not have heard them most likely due to the dramatic butchering of my name. Eventually he got tired of waiting and left. So unaware that anything was wrong, I waited for a bus that never came. Finally, after almost an hour the tour company calls the hotel to ask why I wasn't on the bus. I told him I never saw any bus, and I had been here the whole time. The conversation continuted on with the man on the other end scolding me for not showing up on time and making the bus driver late, to which I did not take very kindly to. Eventually, I asked him to either send me another bus to catch up with the tour group, or refund my money. He said it couldn't be done because it was my fault I was late. More than insistantly I asked to speak with the person in charge. He said he wasn't in, and I replied sharply with "well find me someone then." He told me he'd be in around 10, but maybe 11 or 12. He wasn't sure "This is how things are done in Israel" he assured me. I had had more than enough of this, I told him to just refund my money and put it back onto my credit card. He said he'd talk about it with his boss to see if it was my fault or the driver's. We argued a few moments more leading us back to absolutely nowhere, and then I just gave in, and said "fine! call me back when your boss gets in." Without another word, I hung up the phone, composed myself and thanked the poor woman at the front desk as nicely as I could. I rushed back to my hostel and found a pamphlet with a couple tour packages listed. Unfortunately the Sea of Galalee Tour it advertized had left already, but there was a tour to The Dead Sea leaving in about an hour. By this point, I was a little more calm, so I called the number listed on the pamphlet to see if I could get on the tour before it left. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try. The voice on the other end sounded strangely familiar as I asked if there where any seats availiable for the tour. As soon as I gave my name, we both realized that we had been mortal enemies only moments before. "You!?" we both shouted at once, and then a long silence followed. "Look" I started, "I'm sorry about earlier, I was just really frustrated about missing that tour. Is there anyway I could get on this one?" He said there were some seats available, and offered to use the money I payed for the last tour for this one. I said great, thanked him, and rushed off to make sure I caught this bus.

Halfway to where I was supposed to meet this second bus, I reached behind me and realized I had left my camera in my room. I had about 15 minutes till this bus would arrive and find me missing once again, but I had to have my camera for the Dead Sea. So I ran as fast as I could, back up the huge hill to Jaffa Gate, and up 5 flights of stairs. I found my camera sitting where I had left it, and then ran all the way back. I actually made amazing time, and I was suprised I had run so far so fast. When I got to the hotel, I walked up to every tour bus panting and wheezing until I made absolutely sure none of those busses were for me. Locals who work at the real fancy hotels I've learned are really huge jerks. I was obviously out of breath, and trying to speak clearly to ask where each bus was going, and several of the bus drivers and bell boys scoffed at me because I was an "impatient American, who thinks everyone else is stupid." I shrugged it off each time, and focused my attention on making sure I found this bus to the Dead Sea. Several buses went buy until finally I heard the sound of my name being butchered. I only understood it this time, because I already knew what it sounded like. I turned around and saw a man with a clip board calling my name (or one like it). I ran over to him, and told him that was me, and he lead me to the bus I was waiting for (which was actually parked accross the street, where I never would have seen it anyway). On the bus I met a couple (at least I think they were a couple) who were staying in the hostel next door to mine. Suki from England, and Charles from Portugal. We talked for a bit about how strangely cold it was today, and it certainly was. Yesterday it was into the hundreds, and today it looked like it was going to rain. Talking to them helped me destress a little, and I was very thankful to be in the right place. On the bus ride over, we saw Jericho and the Tomb of Moses, as well as the caves where the Dead Sea Scrolls were discovered by a kid throwing rocks into the caves to try to recall his sheep who had wandered off. He heard the sound of a pot breaking, and crawled into the cave to see what it was. Inside he found 7 ancient jars with the scrolls inside.

We reached the Dead Sea at a special little tourist spa resort with a natural, hot spring steam room, and massage lounge. Down the way some were little plastic chairs under fake palm trees along the coast where you could swim, and right along side was a big mud reservour full of the famous Dead Sea mud that supposed to be amazing for your skin. I found a seat under the shade, kicked off my shoes and started to relax. I didn't pack any sort of swim wear, so I didn't get to go swimming, but I put my feet in the water, and covered my face, arms and neck in a thick layer of mud. We sat there for prettymuch the whole day. I got some time to sleep, finally, and got a very nice mud mask facial which would have cost me hundreds of dollars back home. The whole day I spent relaxing in solitude next to the water on a resort with a bunch of rich tourists.

I got a lot of good thinking time in, however, I'm not really sure I like the whole "tour" thing. There's some good to them, like for instance it allows you to see many different things that may all be spread far apart, and they pay for your transportation there and back in a nice comfortable tour bus. Often times they also pay for a meal, but there are a lot of ways tours can get in the way of my journey. The first thing is that when I travel with a tour group, I'm treated a lot differently by the locals in the area. I'm not me to them, but instead I'm a steriotype of whatever jerk tourist pissed them off in the past, and the whole time I have to proove differently. It's like they start me up on an expectation I have to work myself out of. The second is that on a tour you can't go at your own pace. You have to stay with the tour or you miss the bus. The other reason is that I've found that everytime I'm on a big tour, I'm somehow trying to compete with myself on what sights I've seen and haven't seen, rather than really just enjoying the area. I'm not here to see sights. That doesn't mean I shouldn't, but I can't spend my trip worrying that I won't get to the famous light show in time. This is NOT a vacation. I have to keep reminding myself that. I'm here to discover the world, and who God is, and figure out some things about myself. I'm not here to visit the gift shop, and come away with 21 new T-shirts. It's sometimes hard in places where there are a lot of tourists, to remember that. That's why I have to go easy on the tours. Sometimes they'll be the best thing for me, but I don't want this trip to be about air conditioning, and spa treatment. Especially if that means losing that human connection with the locals.

Bethlehem

This morning I got up at 6am in order to get ready and be at the bus station at 7am. I walked out Jaffa Gate and made my way around the city walls to Damascus Gate, and accross the street to the bus station by the Arab market. The Bus station is neatly tucked away down an allyway between a big Hotel and the Marketplace right at the foot of a rather large hill jutting out in the middle that area. This hill is known as Garden Tomb. About 100 years ago, someone descovered a tomb near there that was about 2,000 years old and had been prepared, but never used. Archiologists were baffeled by this because it seems strange that someone would prepare a tomb, and then just leave it unused. Until, of course, they realized that the shape of the strange hill resembled something of a skull. Many Archiologists believe that they had just recently descovered this hill as the actual site of Golgotha, and the tomb that was found could may well have been where Jesus was ACTUALLY laid. However, most people still recognize The Holy Sepulchre as the place of Golgotha, and the tomb of Jesus. It was found and established a lot earlier, and pilgrims have been worshiping there for centuries, so it would be a huge deal to just change the location suddenly. But it's really interesting, because both locations could very well have been Golgotha, and there's a fork in the road where they could have taken Jesus any one of two ways. They could have taken him, after he fell the second time, to the right and out Damascus Gate to be crucified at this more recently discovered place in which, if that was the case, the site where he would have died rests in a parking space on the parking lot of the bus station behind the Arab Market. Or they could have taken him to the left, up towards New Gate and crucified on the hilltop where the Holy Sepulchre now resides. It's interesting how they don"t really know which place is the real Golgotha and Tomb of Jesus. Both stories are very plausable. It just depends on which way he went after the second fall, Left or Right.

But anyway, I took some pictures of this alternate Golgotha so you can judge for yourself whether or not it looks like the place of the skull, and I caught my bus from there into Beit Jalla where a taxi was waiting for me to take me to Bethlehem. When I arrived, I met Samuel, who was to be my tour guide through Bethlehem. He was very friendly, spoke great english, and was very knowledgeable of the city. He told me he's one of the few chritians, born and raised in Bethlehem that have stayed here through the changing politics and crashing economy. He told me that Christians used to be the majority in Bethlehem at one point, but now they're the tiny minority. Unemployment is a huge problem within the city, and christians inhabit some of the worst areas there. "No one ever prays for the christians of Bethlehem" he told me, "People pray for the Jewish and Palistinian Muslims, and they pray for the conflict between them to be settled, but the christians who still live in Bethlehem get overlooked, and no one ever prays for them."

He took me to the Shepard's Fields, and I got to wander into some of the caves, and ruins of old settlements, and animal holding pens. We walked into the church that was erected on the spot where the angel appeared to the shepards, telling them the savior was born. Afterwards he took me down to the wall in Bethlehem spliting the Jewish and Palastinian side. The wall was about 20 or 30ft high with barbed wire laced through the top like a maximum security prison. At every gate there were metal detectors and armed guards. He told me that this was the way the christians and Palistinian muslims had to come to work from everyday. All around, the wall was covered with graffiti desplaying slogans like "Build bridges, not walls," and "Free Palistine." On one part of the wall were the words, "Give me my ball back...thanks" which was definately the best one I saw. It's good to know that some people are still keeping good humor about the situation. We entered back through to the Israeli side to pick up some more tourists before seeing the rest of the city. The people we picked up were an American family from Chicago, The Downeys. I introduced myself to all of them, and they introduced themselves. The father and mother were Tim and Margo, and then they had 3 boys all around my age (or probably within 4 or 5 years) whom where David, Daniel, and Steven. They told me they were going to be staying here for a couple more days, and then heading over to Greece, and I told them about my travels thus far, and where I planned to go. They seemed very interested in how I'd gotten myself involved in all this, and seemed to admire that I just through myself into a big adventure traveling alone through so many countries. I got talking with them throughout the tour, and they were just legitimately great people, and they asked me to get in on a couple of their family photos. It was great to feel a little bit like part of the family for a couple hours, and in talking we realized we were both going to be in Greece around the same time, so they invited me to meet up with them. We exchanged email addresses, and David emailed me Tim's phone number so that I could contact them when I get into Athens and see where they are.

But throughout the tour, we saw the Church of the Nativity, and walked all though the caves and saw the place where Jesus was born, and then the place where the manger was and the alter in the spot where the wise men knelt to worship. We got a great view of King David's Wells from the top of the stairs at the church. Just looking over the city of Bethlehem was wonderful. The way the city's laid out is still almost just the way it was. There are still miles of open fields, and sheep. The houses all look thousands of years old, and on each hill top you can see clearly which areas belong to Israel, and which belong to Palistine. Palistine's hilltops look much older, and delapidated, and many of Israel's places look almost brand new. After the Downeys left, Samuel took me out to lunch at a really amazing shwarma place. I love shwarmas. I've been prettymuch been living off of shwarmas and falafels since Egypt. They're just increadable over here, and you can get them in so many different varieties, so they never get old. I talked a bit with Samuel over lunch about christianity, and music, and he said I should meet his brother, Daniel. So after lunch he took me to his home, and I got to meet Daniel, who is the worship leader at a local church there (Independant Baptist Church), and Aaron, whom I can't remember what his relation to them was (a cousin, I think), but he was one of the most interesting people I've met on my journey so far. Aaron is, I would guess, in his mid to late 40's, and founded an organization called Iris Ministries which goes all over the world helping starving nations, feeding people, building houses, living in and amongst the people doing whatever is needed and bringing God into their lives. What he was explaining to me seems a lot like what John Gash does in Y-Malawi, and I told him about my friend John and Y-Malawi and he said it's very similar to that. He said they've actually got some people working in Malawi. Aaron's actually born and raised in California, but moved here with his wife a couple years ago to work in helping the christians here in Bethlehem. His whole presence was so relaxed, and made me feel very much at home. We asked about my journey here, and I told him the story of what I was doing, and we talked about what, spiritually, I was trying to do during this trip. He said that God sent on this trip to learn how to love him more intimately, and the way God made me to experience that is through the music I experience. We talked about how I love epic sorts of music, and that my tastes are very eclectic. He said that was because I had a passion and desire for music and cultures, and that God wants to fuse with my desires which is why he gave them to me in the first place. I told him my intent was to see the world, so that I could say that I've seen it, but he said he didn't believe that. He said he can see that this is just a scouting journey for me, and that he's sure this will be the first of many great journeys. He asked if I'd ever accompanied John on any of his trips to Malawi, and I told him I'd always wanted to. I mentioned a little of my medical history, and how in the past it's been hard for me to travel, because the risk of infection was so high. He stopped and looked me straight in the eye, and said the first thing he'd said that really scared me a little. "God is going to heal your heart" is what he told me. He said it as if God had told him himself, and he was absolutely sure of it. I didn't really know what to say. It would be a miracle, but I was talking to a man who, as he told me, had witnessed blind men see, and crippled children walk. It was all a little "Benny Hynn" for my cinical nature, but the way he said it almost made me believe it. As I left, he and the family prayed for my safety, and that I would find what I was looking for on this journey. He gave me his card and a CD of a Israeli christian artist he thought I would like, and told me to keep in touch, and perhaps email him when I get back home to say that my trip went safely. Daniel walked me out and got me a taxi to the bus stop, where I met another man there named Troy who was from Laguna Woods back home in Orange County. He was traveling with a couple other guys from around the states, and I asked if he could break a large bill that I had becuase I didn't have any coins for the bus. He told me it was no problem, and payed my fare back to Jerusalem.

Something is certainly going on in this trip. Random acts of kindness, and spiritual guidence seem to follow me wherever I go. Everywhere I look it seems that I'm being lead towards something. This is hands down, by far the strangest time I've ever encountered in my life. It's not at all like this journey has been easy, in fact it's been one of the hardest things I've ever done, but the way that situations unfold, are not in their usual way, not by a long shot. My life for the last 3 weeks have been real life manifestations of spiritual metiphors. I feel everyday like someone is yelling the answers at me, and telling me exactly what I have to do and who I'm supposed to meet, and when I get there, they seemed to have already expected my arrival. Through what round about way is God taking me? What is this all leading up to? I have so many questions with very few answers, but for some reason it feels really good just to fall down this hole, and let God take me where I'm to end up. This is me walking by faith. I think I'm starting to understand what that really means.

Lost Day/Great Night

I got up this morning and to the dismay of my first migraine on my trip thus far. I tried to sleep it off, but it's nearly impossible to sleep with a migraine in the day in Jerusalem and the temperature today reached well over 100 degrees. After some time, I thought it might help to get some food in me, so I walked across town to Damascus Gate to get a 5 shekel Falafel from my favorite food stand, all the while trying to remember to keep breathing, and downing water. If you've you've ever had a migraine, you know that in the pain you have to remind yourself to do simple things like breathing, and on a hot day in Israel it's all the harder. On my way back from Damascus Gate the whole street was blocked because a brawl that took place between two Arabs who were hauling their inventory on wooden carts coming in opposite directions. Apparently the street was too narrow for both of them to get around each other, so in pushing through, one accidently knocked over the other one's cargo, spilling it all over the floor. The other man retaliated by dumping over the other's cart, and immediately a fight ensued. People from the sidelines jumping in to stop the fight eventually became a part of it, but I had no patience for this sort of thing at the particular moment, so I crawled my way through the fighting mob, dodging punches as I went until I reached the other side.

I sat and watched TV in the lounge for a bit, nodding off until my headache subsided, and then I headed out to meet some friends my mom had gotten me in contact with, for dinner. They were absolutely amazing people. We had so much fun talking, and laughing. I told them about my blog, and they actually asked me not to mention their names and to keep things pretty general when mentioning them in my blog, because they said they'd like to fly a little under the radar if at all possible. So respectfully, I told them I would try to be as general as I could. I can tell you however, that they are both magnificent people, and we had a great time. I had dinner at their house, and they made me a wonderful home cooked meal. After dinner they hooked me up with a friend they have who's a professional tour guide here, and they got me booked on a tour tomorrow through Bethlehem, and then on Wednesday through Galilee, and Nazareth. They told me I also very much need to see the Dead Sea while I'm here which is only a 20 minute drive from here. At the end of the night, they loaded me up with the leftovers, so that I could store them in the hostel fridge and use it for free meals or snacks while I'm here. Although tomorrow, my lunch is already provided in the tour. It was great seeing them both, and I learned a lot about what's here still to see. The husband told me that on Thursday, he'd love to pal around with me for the day, and show me whatever I hadn't seen by then. So I told him that would be great, and he wrote down directions for me of what exactly I need to do tomorrow, where to meet the tour group, and how to get back. Thank God for them. There's probably so much I would have missed here that I never would have realized I missed till I was gone.
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He Has Risen!

Easter In Jerusalem

Happy Easter! He has risen indeed!

This morning I got up and payed the hostel clerk another 45 sheckels to stay another night, and then I walked outside to see what Easter was like in Jerusalem. It seemed mostly business as usual, in the beginning. People were buying and selling in the markets, tourists were taking pictures of absolutely everything and clogging up the streets, and the sun was hot and bright. But as I found my way further into the city I noticed the children dressed up like it was halloween. One little girl was dressed like a princess and another little boy like spiderman. People began singing and dancing in the streets, singing hyms and worship songs in all languages and all creeds. In the Jewish quarter men carried flags baring the star of David, and drank and sang songs at the top of their voice and paraded through the city. In the Moslem quarter people were gathered near the mosques and on their knees worshiping. Over the loudspeakers rang joyous voices praising Allah. And in the Christian quarter, masses huddled into the churches and The Holy Sepulchre. The whole city was singing.

I walked my way around the city for a bit, and made my way over to Mount Zion. I hiked up to the top of it where I walked in to the Tomb of King David, and the site of the Last Supper. At least they said it was the site of the Last Supper, I kinda had my doubts because Jesus and his deciples were poor and lived like common men, so I would think it strange that the last supper was held in a beautiful church-like banquet hall on the second story of a building over the tomb of King David. But I took it in and treated it like it was the place of the Last Supper. I followed the stairs down to Dormition Abbey, and further down to the crypt below it where a sarcophegus of a woman laid in the center and many people were gathered around it praying. The only inscriptions written on it were in Hebrew so I asked a priest who was down there who that was. I couldn't understand anything he said to me but the name "Mary." Now yesterday I saw the tomb of The Virgin Mary, so I suppose this must have been Mary Magdalene. However, I was under the impression that we still didn't know where Mary Magdalene's body was. Whatever the case, it was a beautiful tomb, and was decorated with a colorful arch with painted tiles above depicting particular women of the bible. The only one I could really recognize though was Eve, and I think one of them was Esther. I walked from there, and took shelter from the heat behind a 2 and a half thousand year old wall in a garden at the top of Mount Zion. I sat there for a while in solitude, just thinking and enjoying the day, and the view over Jerusalem. After some time I began to get hungry to I walked around the old city wall to the Moslem quarter at Damascus Gate and found that Falafel stand I love, bought a falafel, and walked back to the Christian quarter and my hostel at Zappa Gate. I was exhausted from walking and the whole bustle of the city, so I sat in at my hotel and took a nap. Later in the evening I decided to go out to the Holy Sepulchre when were less people there and I walked into Jesus' tomb and was happy to find that he was not there. So inside the tomb I knelt down and prayed for my best friend Jordan, and his fiance Alex, and I prayed for god to bless them and their marraige. Marriages, I assume requre a lot or patience, and wisdom and passion, so I prayed for that as well. Praying in a place like that is a different experience than praying anywhere else. You really feel like God can hear you, and you feel his presence in the history of these objects because you know that he was once there! Jesus's body laid in the tomb I was standing in, and an astownding miracle took place there, in many places in this city, in fact. It's just something I've never felt before until now. To be able to put a face to the stories, and feel the things that Jesus felt, and smell the smells he smelt, it's like nothing I can describe in words.

After that, I walked back to the Moslem quarter and found some dinner. I always go to the Moslem quarter for food, because it's usually cheaper, and better there. It's further away from where all the vacationing tourists hang out. The people who go to the Moslem end of town are usually backpackers like me, pilgrims, and locals. When I got back to my hostel, the first thing I did was take a shower. Another unique atribute of the middle east is that during the day, the dust just finds its way into every crevise and every pore of your body, so by the end of the day you just feel totally saturated. My hostel only gives hot water from 5-10am and 5-10pm and there's only one bathroom between 2 dormrooms of 8 beds each. So showering in the morning is out of the question. I've learned to take my showers at night. So in the day I just accumulate sweat from the pounding heat and dust and dirt from the desert wind. I can see why washing in Biblical times was such a big deal.

Tomorrow I'll go explore some more, things will, no doubt start to get cheaper here at the holiday comes to a close. Maybe tomorrow I'll be able to get to the Dome of the Rock, maybe I'll catch a taxi to Bethlehem. I hope you all had a wonderful Easter. Mine was great, and certainly memorable. Have a good night, I'll talk to you tomorrow.
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Discovering Jerusalem

This morning I got up and finally was able to take a shower for the first time in like 3 days. There wasn't a lot of hot water, but it was fine. I was just happy to be somewhat clean again. After my shower I had to sit down and figure out what I was going to do about the living situation. The hostel I was currently in was costing me 75 sheckles a night, which was more than I was willing to spend for what I was getting. So I looked at my map, and tried to figure out where another alternative would be. I had been told by the man at the front desk of my hostel that prettymuch all the hostels in Old City would be booked, or have their prices raised at this time because of the hollidays, so I thought I might go outside Old City and look for a lower end hotel, because at least there if I'm going to spend some money, I'm going to have my own room and a hot shower, and I'll be able to pay with a credit card where the hostels only take cash. I found one on the map called The David Citadel which was not far, so I started heading in that direction, but on the way I saw a currency exchange place that had a hostel above it. The sign caught my eye because it said "credit cards accepted." So I thought I'd give it a shot, so I walked up to the reception and asked if there were any rooms for the night, and low and behold there were at only 45 sheckles a night. So I booked a room there instead.

I met some of my roommates on the way in, all of which are American, and they're all really great people. I taked to them a bit, and then I went out to explore the city now that I knew where I was going to be tonight. I covered a lot of ground. I first found my way over to Gethsemani and the Mount of Olives where I saw the tombs of Jehosephat, and Zachariah, and I got to see the Tomb of the Virgin Mary (which is right accross the street from Gethsemani). In the Garden of Gethsemani there's a huge church devoted to the spot, and of course there are a bunch of tourists taking pictures inside, which for some reason is allowed. I hate seeing people take pictures of the inside of a holy church or cathedral. I just think it's disrespectful. It's ok to take pictures of the outside, but the inside I think should be kept sacred. I didn't take any pictures of ther inside of The Holy Sepulchre, and Golgotha even though it seemed to be allowed and people were doing it. I even felt bad taking pictures of Gethsemani, but it was so beautiful, I had to.

After Gethsemani, I walked up and saw the Wailing Wall. At first I walked over to it throught the women's side, and I wondered why I didn't see any men there. Finally a woman can up to me and told me I was on the wrong side, and pointed me to the men's entrance. I didn't realize the wall was sectioned off that way, but evidently men and women here go to separate areas to pray.

I sat there and put my hand on the wall for a moment or two, and said a little prayer. From there I followed the wall into what seemed to be a huge Jewish library, and still along the wall were several Hassidic Jews praying, and chanting in their full Jewish attire. I wondered if I was allowed to be in there, but I tried to be as reverent as I could be and no one said anything about it. Afterwards, I tried to get to the Dome of the Rock, but it was all sectioned off, and they weren't letting any foreigners near the area (I was told it's because of the Holiday). So I walked back to my hostel and took it easy for a bit, took a nap, and just re-energized before going out to find food. The cost in most places here for a Falafel or Kebab is 30-35 shekels, but I learned from one of my roommates of a place at the Damascus Gate that sells them for 5 shekels. It's a little bit of a walk, but it was totally worth it to pay so little for such good food. After dinner I walked the city abit at about sunset. Shops started closing up in the early night, so I figured it'd be a good idea to start my way back. I got lost only once of the way back, but not for very long. The streets here all look very similar, you have to remember where you've been. When I made it back to the hostel, I sat out on the balcony, and watched the streets. The shops all close pretty early, but there are always people on the streets.

As I sat there I smoked my pipe, and talked with a fellow American traveler named Eric who was sitting on the balcony next door wearing the same hat I had on. He's from Washington state, and he had been traveling around for 3 months also, but he started in Asia and this was his final stop before going home. I asked him if the journey changed him at all, and he told me he didn't know. He said change of that sort is not really something you can see in yourself while you're here, but others see it when you get back. We talked and smoked and watched the night unfold in Jerusalem. It was not such a bad way to spend a day.

Tomorrow is Easter. I don't know what it'll be like here, or where I'll be able to get, so I guess I'm just going to play it by ear. Eventually I'm going to get to Bethlehem because it's currently open to tourists, and some of the Americans here said it was great. I got an email from John Gash's friends John and Una. They said I could call them tomorrow, and meet up with them. They gave me some ideas for some hostels, but all the ones they gave me were more expensive than the one I have. They didn't mention anything about me staying with them or anything, so I don't want to really push that, but I'll call them tomorrow, and see where they are. I hope you all have a Happy Easter. I love you all very much.
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The Journey to Jerusalem Cont.

As I was getting situated, I read the crucifiction story in Matthew and Mark. So as I went exploring I looked for Golgotha (The place where Jesus was crucified) and eventually found the place. There is where they kept the stone that Jesus' body was laid on, and the tomb he had risen from. I knelt down and touched the stone Jesus' body had rested on, and I prayed for my journey, and my friends and family back home. As I entered the crucifiction site I was so overcome with emotion I littlerally sat there and wept as I prayed. It was unexplicable to me, but I just felt a weight lifted off my shoulders, and I was so glad to be where I was, the tears streamed down my face. I prayed for God to lead me in my journey to becoming the man he wants me to be. I prayed that not my will, but his be done, and I also prayed for healing. I'd heard the stories about the miracles Jesus performed in Jerusalem, and now I was here kneeling before the cross praying to God to heal my heart, if it was every going to happen this would be the time to ask for it. When I was finished there, I walked through Jerusalem, and found the stations of the cross, and saw each one, and I went back to my hostel and read my bible. There is very much a Holy vibe in this city. At last I have made it to Jerusalem. God has brought me out of Egypt, through turmoil and redemption. It was an amazing journey, and yet my journey still continues.
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The Journey to Jerusalem

The Journey To Jerusalem

I'm not really sure how I'm even going to tell this story, but I'l do me best. I guess I'll just start from the beginning.

At 4:00am I waited with my backpack out in front of my hotel. I'd had nothing but a short nap (about 1 hour) for sleep that night. The car that was to pick me up was late, and I made a deal with myself, that if the car did not show up by half past, I would catch a taxi to the airpot, and fly to Jerusalem. However, at about 4:20, the car I was looking for pulled around the corner. The first thing that suprised me was that Wyheed had brought with him a friend sitting in the front seat. I thought it was going to be just Wyheed, but I guess it made sense that he was there to switch driving with Wyheed so he didn't have to drive the whole time. I got into the car and we were off. I had had a talk with my parents the night before about being careful, so when Wyheed told me I should sleep, I respectdfully declined, and so stayed up the whole time.

As we drove through the Sahara I got to see a beautiful Sahara sunrise over the sand dunes. On the way we drove by Mt. Sinai, so I'm very glad I got to see that, and It seemed funny to me that all this was just everyday monotony to them. About 5 and a half hours into the desert, smoke starts to permiate from the hood of the car. The two of them yell at eachother in Arabic and pulled the car to one side of the road. They opened the hood, and plumes of smoke made the situation look pretty grim. We were now stranded in the middle of the Sahara desert, and they had just used the last of our water to douse the flames from the burning engine. I really wasn't sure what to think. I had never in my life thought I would find myself stranded in the Sahara Desert with no water, its just not one of those things you really think about as a kid from Orange County. I had asked God for some turmoil in my life, and boy if he did'nt deliver. That's really what held me through this situation, and what was to come. I had asked God for all of it. So I tried to just close me eyes and enjoy it; take it all in. After some time, Wyheed's friend hitchhiked his way back to the last checkpoint and found an American that was willing to take me the rest of the way while they both waited for a toe truck. The American's name was George. He had lived in Egypt for ten years now with his family, which he said was the longest he'd ever stayed in one place since he was 18 and left his family and friends in Illinois to travel the world, and he just never came back. George had shaggy silver hair, and aviator fraimed glasses. His face wore an expression that said he had seen everything this world had to offer. He spoke with a kind of culture savy, that only comes from years of travel. I told him who I was and what I was doing here, and I thanked him for picking me up. I asked him what other places he's lived, and he said "Oh, just about everywhere" and began to list off a few: Libia, Sudan, Germany, Russia, Iran, Iraq, Lebanon... We discussed the differences between the U.S. And here in the middle east. He spoke harshly about the media and how it portrayed other countries of the world. He told me quite fervently, "No other country loves Americans as much as Iran." He seemed to think that America's policies were deeply rooted in the deception of the American people, and was adament about the idea that a person has to travel to a place to figure out what it's really like. We drove on through the beautiful Sahara Canyons to a town called Neweiba, where I was to catch my ferry to Jordan. George stayed with me until we were sure I'd found the ticket booth, and knew where the dock was, and then we said goodbye.

I got up to the ticket booth after having to withdrawl some more cash from a semi-near atm. No one seems to take credit cards in the middle east, and I have a weird lock on my atm card that only allows me to take out a couple hundred dollars a day, which has been very troublesome. My ticket across cost me 70 US dollars and he stamped my ticket. I asked when the next ferry left for Jordan, and he told me 5:00pm. Well it was now 12:00pm, and the ferry across the Red Sea takes about 2 hours. So at this point, getting to Petra and up to Israel is one day was out of the question. This news was very discouraging. I had really wanted to see petra, and now I'd have to sit in Neweiba for the next 5 hours.

Neweiba is a lot like Mexico in the fact that it's beautiful, with a gorgeous coast line, but absolutely filthy. I walked into the departure gate where I would have to wait for 5 hours and I immediately caught siphilus. The place was packed with a thousand people who had not even seen a shower in weeks, some sprawled out sleeping on the benches, others washing their feet in the bathroom sink. The flies were having a field day inside the enclosed, humid building, where the smell of sweat and body odor saturated the air. I found a spot on a wooden bench next to a man who looked like one you would see on an infomercial with Susan Surandan, and sat myself down to survey the situation. I decided I didn't really want to stay here, and dying of heat exhastion seemed to me a better idea than malaria, so I put on my extreamly heavy pack, and went out to explore the docks. The docks here were massive, it took forever to get to either side of them, but as I neared the edge where I might sit next to the water, a guard called to me in Arabic. "What you are doing? You go back, now!" He said to me in broken english. He was holding an automatic rifel, so I didn't argue with the man, I just made my way back to the departure terminal. I didn't want to go back inside, so I found a shady place outside and layed down, resting my head on my backpack to try to catch some sleep. Although, I couldn't get much because the flies were everywhere landing on my face, and waking me up again.

When it was finally time to board, I walked back down to the docks, and waited for an hour for everyone to get off the ferry before we could get on. I got to the front of the line and the guard took my ticket and passport and he looked through it, and then brought his buddy over, so I knew something was wrong. "You have no stamp here." He told me. I said yes I did, it was here on my ticket! He pointed to may passport and said "No stamp! You have to have a stamp from the departure gate, go back!" So I ran back to the departure gate as fast as I could, and finally found the place I needed to get my stamp from. The stamping guy took his time getting it just right as I was standing there about to explode. Finally he finished and I ran out of the gate. I noticed that there were some busses taking people to the dock, so I hoped on one of those. I use the term "bus" very loosely. What it really was was a tube of sheet metal with wheels and an engine. Inside they cramed in 100 people and only the very front had seats, and the rest was standing only. So I stood there thinking it wouldn't be long, it'd be faster than walking, and less tiresome. I was wrong again. I don't even know what went on because everyone was screaming in Arabic, but the bus was not moving for several minutes now, and there was no breathable air left. I felt myself wanting to faint. I hadn't eaten anything since lunch the day before, and I'd had very little water, and carried that backpack on my shoulders for the last 4 or 5 hours. My arms went numb, so I tried to move my shoulder straps around to keep the circulation going, to little avail. I couldn't let myself pass out here, I just couldn't afford it. I kept my mind concentrated, and breathed deeply and slowely. After about 20 more minutes the bus began to move. I got to the ferry to Aqaba, Jordan, and leaped onboard just in time, and got situated in my seat.

During the ferry ride over I dosed off everyonce in a while for a few minutes, giving me as least some strength back. I couldn't understand the voices over the loudspeaker, or anyone around me, so I just watched everyone's body language. At the point I figured we were landing, I got up and walked to the back of the boat. A man in a black leather jacket was there checking passports. He checked mine, and held it up to me. "You have no stamp!" "You've got to be kidding me!" I exclaimed, and I showed him the place the man in the terminal had stamped. "No" he said, "you had to go to the front of the boat when you got on and get a passport stamp to Jordan. You have not stamp to Jordan, I cannot let you off the boat." Just then a nice older lady from one of the American tours jumped in and talked to the man in Arabic, after a bit she told me that what he's going to do is call some people and see if they can get a stamp here, so that way I don't have to go back to Egypt. I thanked her, and him, and the man took my passport and put it in his pocket. But I had a very uncomfortable feeling that if this guy walked away with my passport, I would never see it again. So I tried to pursuade him to give me back my passport or at least let me follow him as he figured this out, but he wouldn't do it. I was so agitated, I must have been quite a specticle to the other passenger, but he walked off to god knows where with my passport in his pocket.

The ferry landed, and people started unloading. I asked the guards where that man in the leather jacket went, and they pointed me down below. So I went down to the lower deck and got my backpack and fiddle, but he was still nowhere to be found. In a tired panic, I tried to communicate with the guards about where the man in the leather jacket went with my passport, but I some didn't know what I was talking about, and I couldn't understand anything they were telling me. Finally I got the words "Get on bus" and "Immigration office" out of them. So I went out to where the busses were and I saw one with the company logo on it, and I asked the driver if it goes to the immigration office, and he said yes. I took the bus to the immigration office, and wandered around until I found the man in the leather jacket. He told me where to go, and I stood in the immigration office for another hour, while they yelled at eachother in Arabic. Arabic people yell a whole lot. After a while it gets really old. Another man there took me to another room to finally have my passport stamped with the Jordan stamp, and I moved through customes, and tried to figure out now how to get to Jerusalem.

I asked a gaurd on the other side of customs how I could get to Jerusalem from here, and explained that I'm just passing through Jordan to get to Israel. He told me I'd have to first take a taxi to Amman, and then another to Jerusalem because it's too far for one taxi ride. He told me to follow him, and he got me a taxi to Amman for 50 denari which I could only pay the guy in Egyptian pounds and trust that he told me the right conversion rate. The driver was a kid about my age, we haggled furiously over the price, and the conversion rate of the Egyptian pounds, and then he took me to the taxi station for some reason. I asked him what we were doing here, and he said "you are going to Amman." So he loaded my stuff into a black car and talked a bit with the driver, an older man who didn't seem too happy about the whole arrangement, but eventually agreed. There were also 3 other kids about my age in the car, and it seemed to me like all these people new eachother and my taxi driver had just convinced them to do him a favor by driving me to Amman. "I'm not paying anymore money, I told him. To which he replied "No no, No money" and the old man seemed unhappy about that as well. So once again somehow I ended up in the back of some car with 4 other strange Arabs. I felt a little more at ease with this one though, because they were all just kids my age, joking to eachother, and playing car games. The one sitting on my right began talking to me, asking me what I was doing here, where I was going, where I was from and all that. We talked for a bit, and I learned his name was Monsuir. He spoke very good english, better than most of the people I had met here in the middle east, and he served as kind of my unofficial translator for the car ride. He said he was a student here, but he wanted to go to school for financing in the U.S. He asked me if I'd known any good financing schools in the states to look into, and I didn't really but I tried to list off some good schools in the U.S. that might have financing. We talked about school and work and movies and music, and then he asked where I was staying in Amman, and I told him I wasn't I just need to catch a taxi from there to Jerusalem. He said there's no way I'll be able to catch a taxi to Jerusalem tonight, because the trip to Amman is about 4 hours, and then from there to Jerusalem is another 3 and the taxis don't run all night. So I said it looks like I'll have to find a cheap hotel in Amman for the night, and go early in the morning to Jerusalem. He spoke to the driver, and then said he might be able to hook me up with a friend of theirs who owns a hotel in Amman. So I said that'd be great, and I talked to the guy on the phone, and he said he'd even arrange to drive me accross the bridge into Israel in the morning.

So when we arrived to Amman it was just after midnight, and we actually stopped just outside the city next to a man waiting there with his car. I asked what was going on, and Monsuir told me this was the guy I talked to, and he's going to take me from here to where I'm staying. So they loaded up the car and drove off. I shook this new man's hand, not really knowing what to do. He said his name is Turkey, and he'll be taking me to him place, by which I thought he meant his hotel but in more conversation he told me the hotel was full tonight, so he thought I could stay in his home for the night, and it'd be free and I'll have breakfast in the morning before we go. I was just happy to have a bed for the night, so I thanked him, and he drove me to his farmhouse outside the city. There was only one bedroom in his house. It was allined with little cot-like mats on the floor all around the lining of the wall. To use the bathroom you had to walk outside and go into a little shed where there was a little hole in the ground and no light. The whole family slept on the floor on these mats in one room of the house, and me with them. I was so tired though, I didn't care where I slept, I could sleep anywhere. I had no trouble getting to sleep.

In the morning, the children served us breakfast and I washed my hands and face by way of one of the daughter's pouring water into a bowl while I washed. The breakfast was served right there on the ground, and it was quite good. We had fresh boiled eggs from his own chickens, pita bread dipped in olive oil, and some kind of potato thing. Afterwards we dropped the kids off at school, and drove to the bridge to Israel.

Turkey dropped me off, and I payed him for the drive and his hospitality, and then bought a bus ticket accross the border. When I reached customs on the other side, I did my best to find where I was going and did pretty well, just a lot of long lines. As I got my Israel passport stamp, there was an alarm and all the guards rushed the people into one section of the room, and sealed off all the exits. Apparently there was a terrorist scare, but I really wasn't that worried, because by the looks of it, it seemed like they do this a lot, none of the guards looked worried or tense. After about 30-45 minutes the scare was over, and we were allowed back into the rest of the building. I past through customs, exchaged my money for Israeli sheckles, and caught a bus to Jerusalem.

The first thing I did when I got off the bus was walk into the nearest hotel and ask where I was on the map I brought with me for this trip. The clerk told me where we were, and I knew this hotel was too expensive, so I asked about anything cheaper nearby. Iearned of some hostels in Old City, so I walked to there and before long had found one in the christian quarter of Old City Jerusalem. It was amazingly expensive, and the front desk clerk said it was because of this weekend, and this is the tourist season in Israel. So I payed for one night, got situated and went off to explore the city.
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update

I'm here in Jerusalem now, I'm staying at a hostel in the christian quarter of the old city tonight, but all the hostels are way expensive right now. I just got back from Golgotha, the place where Jesus was crucified. It was amazing, because without even knowing it, I got to the place right around 3pm, which is what they say the time was when Jesus was crucified. I've been reading Matthew and Mark while I've been here so far, It's really amazing to walk down the same streets that Jesus walked, and they look relatively unchanged! Tonight I'll walk through the garden of Gethsemane and probably spend most of my good friday there. I love you, and I'm alive and safe, and I've had quite an adventure coming from Egypt. Enjoy your good friday, I'll be in Gethsemane trying to figure out the place where Jesus was when he prayed there.

Exodus

This morning I got to sleep in a bit, because I wasn't being picked up until 10:30am. We were going to see the Cairo Museum, and it doesn't open till 10. I took a cold shower, because evidently the hot water was all gone, and rushed out to meet my driver Wyheed and Hussein in the lobby. We picked up our guide (Tarek is his name) and drove over to the Museum which was already packed with people. For several hours I walked through the museum while Tarek told me what I was looking at, and the story behind it. Egyptology is such an interesting science, there is so much to know, and knowing about the mythology and history enables you to see things completely defferently than how it looks without knowing. We looked at a statue of Kiefrin, The pharoh who built the Second Pyramid (My favorite one) and it was a statue of him sitting in a throne with a falcon seated on top. At first glance its a nice statue, but it actually a family portrait. The falcon represents Horrace, who was said to be Kiefrin's father, and the thrown is decorated with the symbols of Horrace's wife (I can't remember her name). Kiefrin himself is seen looking outward and a little ways up, as if addressing a huge crowd of people. So the statue shows Kiefrin supported by his father and mother as he addresses his nation. It's stuff like that that makes this country so interesting.

After the museum, we got some lunch, and then went to see the part of Cairo where the oldest christian church, Jewish Temple, and Islamic Mosque lay, all within walking distance from eachother. The church there was so incredable! In the underground tombs below was where Mary and Joseph fled with Jesus to Egypt when Harrod was looking for them. I got to see the place where they hid, the first home Jesus ever knew. The celing of the church was originally made from several of the boards from Noah's Ark, but was redone years ago, however they still have the original boards in storage.

After that, we traveled to The Citadel, where I got to walk inside the Mosque of the Citadel, the whole place is considered holy ground, so you have to remove your shoes before entering. Inside the dome was like nothing I'd ever seen before. It was covered with gold, and alabaster, and the pillars were soft white marble. It was painted with the seals of devoute followers and kings, and elloborate designs. Just outside of the Mosque I got to see the palace of Saladin, who lead the muslims against the crusaders in hopes of recapturing Jarusalem. From the courtyard, there's a breathtaking view of all of Cairo, and to one side you can see the City of the Dead. This whole land is quite magnificent, and is life changing to behold.

When Wyheed, and Hussein dropped me off at my hotel, Hussein ran into the flourist accross the street and came back with a flower saying, "a gift for a very good man." I thanked him, and said goodbye to Hussein, but to Wyheed I just told him I'd see him later. While we were driving earlier Wyheed offered to drive me to the Red Sea to catch a ferry into Jordan, where I would take a bus into Petra. It takes about 8 hours to get to the Red Sea by car, so we decided we should leave as early as possible so I could get to Petra and up to Jerualem by Friday. So Wyheed is going to pick me up from the hotel at 4:00am and we'll start the long trek accross the Sahara to the Red Sea.

I truly believe that God is leading me on this trip, and telling me where to go and how I should get there. These people always seem to show up out of nowhere and tell me where to go, and here I am being led on an exodus out of Egypt. I'm taking the same route through the desert, across the Red Sea and up to Jerusalem. It's perfectly theatrical, exactly the way God knew I would take the bait. The only hitch is that I have to do it all in one day. I have one day to complete the journey the Hebrews took 40 years to finish. Please pray for me. I have faith that God with continue to provide for me. "I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands."-Isaiah 49: 15-16. Even in the desert, God will not forget me.

There will probably be no blog tomorrow. I most likely won't get service in the Sahara Desert. But when I talk to you all again I will be on the spot where Jesus was crusified, praying and giving thanks for delivering me from the desert, on good Friday.
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Egypt: Love of My Life

I woke up this morning at 7:30 having been told the night before by Hussein to be in the lobby at 9am and not to be late. It was a little harder to get up this morning, probably because I'd gotten used to sleeping in late in London. Probably also due to the fact that I didn't sleep much last night, It was very humid in my room, and bugs were eating me alive all night. The cockroaches in my bathroom are big enough to use the shower, and they use up all the hot water before I can get in in the morning.

I got up and got ready and got up to the restaurant on the 8th floor for the complimentary breakfast at 8am, which consisted of a hard boiled egg and two bread sticks. By 9 I was down in the lobby and Hussein and my driver, Wyheed were already waiting for me. I got in the van, and they took me over the Nile to Giza. There we drove off the main road into the Sahara Desert to the tombs near the Step Pyramid (the oldest pyramid in Egypt). Several of the tombs are open to the public for tourists to walk inside, but you're not allowed to take pictures of the inside of the tombs. I climbed down into the tomb of King Titi by myself while my guide waited outside. There are hired guides for major tombs like this one that accompany you through and make sure you don't touch or take pictures of anything inside. However as soon as we were alone inside the tomb, my tomb guide signals to me, "quickly! Take out your camera!", reluctantly I did as he said. He told me I could take some pictures if I did quickly before anyone else came in. So I snapped some pictures as fast as I could of the hieroglyphs on the walls, and he took some of me inside the tomb. And then he led me to the burial chamber and he said that I could take some pictures of the burial tomb where the sarcophagus was originally sealed inside (but had been pryed open to take out the body). "Get in!" He said with boyish enthusiasm. "What!?" I said, "you've gotta be kidding me!" He wanted me to get inside the coffin where the body had laid, and was going to take a picture of me inside. So I did what anyone in that situation would do. I got inside the coffin. He snapped some entirely illegal pictures of me desecrating a Pharaoh's tomb, and then we bolted out of there. How many people in the world can say they actually laid in a coffin which once held the mummified remains of a 2,000 year old Pharaohs. Not very many.

I walked through some of the other tombs of King Titi's servants, and my guide told me about the histories of the tombs and what the different hieroglyphs meant. When we were finished there, we drove to another part of Giza where the Great Pyramid and Sphinx are. We rented camels and rode around the Pyramids, while a different guide, Achmed told me about their history, and taught me how to ride my camel. Achmed was my age exactly, and we had a great time posing for pictures, and he even let me climb up onto one of the pyramids, which again you're not supposed to do. He said he liked me because I'm willing to try anything. After riding around the Pry amids and Sphinx for a little over an hour, we got some lunch, which was provided, at an awesome Egyptian food place (It was a very nice restaurant, very safe and lots of tourists). My guide (who's name I can't remember) and I talked about the differences and similarities between Christianity and Islam. He's a Muslim, and so he was telling me a lot about what he believes, and I shared with him a little of my beliefs. I learned a whole lot from our conversations, and we both concluded that we all pray to the same God, he's just called by a different name over here. I was delighted the whole time how respectful, and passionately our conversation went. We were both brothers with the same father. We talked about his two wives and two kids. He asked if I had taken a wife back home and I told him no, and he asked me if I had ever been in love, to which I told him I thought I had been once.

From there they took me to the carpet factory where I got to see little slave children make carpets (well they weren't exactly slaves, they were students, and the factory was their school slash workplace, but they sure looked like slaves to me). And then they took me to the perfume factory to see how they make Egyptian perfumes, and I got to sample a bunch of them, so I smelled good all day. Afterwards, we went to the paper factory where I saw how to make papyrus plants into paper. It was all a whole lot of fun, and they tried to teach me some Arabic along the way. At around 3:30 we had seen everything we had planned for the day, so they took me back to the hotel.

I remembered I needed to talk to the guy at the front desk about the Internet situation, so I asked him how I can get Internet here. It just so happened at that perfect time the front desk guy was also talking to another Egyptian man standing next to me, who laughed and shook my hand, and said he will take me to where I can find Internet. This man was one of friendliest men I've ever met. He asked where I was from and I told him, and he welcomed me and shook my hand with such gratitude, that I was taken aback. He showed me some places around town where I could pay for Internet service, but he said he'd take me to his shop where I can just use his Internet for free. As we passed people on the street he greeted them as if he'd known them all for years, and it seemed he had. Everyone smiled and laughed, and hugged him as he passed by he introduced me to some, and they welcomed me with a handshake and a smile. We passed by an old woman in a wheelchair, and he stopped and said "wait here one moment. I have to say hello to a very dear friend." Her face immediately lit up when she saw him, and he bent down and kissed her on the hand. They talked for a second, he introduced me, and then he lead me into his store. There I met his cousin, Muhammad and Muhammad's brother (who's name I can't remember), and he insisted that I try some real Egyptian Felafel's, so he bought me a felafel and together the 4 of us sat in his office and ate felafel's and drank Egyptian tea.

I stayed with them and we talked for several hours. I told him about the tour I was on, and the people trying to sell me stuff, and how I was worried about being here and being American. He told me that there was no reason for me to be afraid. He recognized that the tour I was on was a real legit travel agency that work for the airport. He said no one in Cairo would ever hurt me. He said I could walk any street in Cairo till 4 in the morning and no one would ever lay a finger on me. However, what some will do is raise their prices because they know I'm a tourist, which is why I'm paying so much for stuff right now. He said the real Cairo is very cheap, but a lot of companies are not certified by the government, so travel agencies make a commission if they bring you somewhere where you buy something. He said he would like to show me the REAL Cairo, so he introduced me to a lot of people in Cairo, who were all amazingly nice, and he asked me if I'd like to get booked on a Nile River Cruise tour that night. I told him I'd love to, and that was that.

A friend of Muhammad's drove me to the cruise ship and I got on. The cruise was stuffed full of rich white people, and in the ship itself was 4 decks high, with a big buffet in the center. On every deck there was live music. The deck I was seated on had an Egyptian man on a keyboard, and two Egyptian women on mics singing Billy Joel songs. Badly. It was like karaoke night in Egypt, and I had thought the live music was supposed to be a little more in the traditional native sense, and a little less in the 80's compilation album. However, the huge table of Chinese people in the center of the room loved it. As soon as they started their middle eastern rendition of My Heart Will Go On, I had to leave the room to keep from laughing.

I wandered up to the second deck and hung around there for a while because they actually had some traditional Egyptian music...and a belly dancer. It seemed as though deck 2 was the place to be. When she...or um...the band had gone, I went up to the top deck and watched the lights sparkle on the Nile. It looked like the Jungle Cruise from Disneyland in several places along the Nile, and made me feel like a true adventurer.

After the Cruise I was dropped off back at the store, and Muhammad was there, so I sat down and had a cup of tea with him. I showed him my pictures from my trip thus far, and he showed me his pictures of his little twin son and daughter who are 4 months old. We talked about our families, and politics. He told me that he meets a lot of Americans who's families and friends think they're crazy to come to Egypt, thinking that the whole world hates them. He says Egypt is one of the most friendly nations you'll ever find, and everyone in the middle east knows it's not the individual people who make the political decisions anyway. He said, "what does it matter what religion you are, or what country you came from. People are people. A good person will be treated well regardless of what or who he believes in." We talked about the similarities of our religions, and how each of our religions say not to kill. We came to the conclusion that these wars of religions are really just political. It's a couple religious extremists that ruin it for a whole race, or religion. He told me how because he's from Egypt, he can't travel to very many places, because other governments are worried he might be a terrorist because of where he's from and what his religion is. But, he said the middle east is a very friendly place, and it's all very safe, but for some reason, all of America thinks that middle easterners want to hurt them. He also told me that now that I have seen differently, It's up to me to set the record straight, and make sure people back home know the Egyptian people for the friendly, hospitable and God fearing people they actually are. I feel very at home here in Egypt. Mohammad told me I'm welcome in his home anytime, and if I'm ever in Egypt again I should call him and he'll put me up and make sure I have a good stay. I told him I would do the same if he were ever in my country.

Egypt is the most unusual place I've ever seen, but when you meet people here, you become family. I walked back to my hotel at about 10:30pm past both the Kuwait, and Serbian embassy right past several men carrying AK47s. I smiled and tipped my hat to them, and they gave a big smile back and said hello in Arabic. Because I was smiling, all the homeless people on the street were too. This city looks like a war torn battlefield, or third world country, but it's friendlier than Laguna Niguel. I hope to return here very soon and I highly recommend going if you can. They love Americans here.

Unfortunately, I did some asking around and the only way to get to Petra is by bus, or I could order a private car. So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to go tomorrow to reserve a ticket for the ferry over to Jordan, and then take a bus to Petra. I'm assured it's very safe. It just takes a long time.
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Egypt

I spent the night sleeping on the floor of the airport in Rome. The chairs were made of steel and had arm rests built in to each one, so the floor was the only option. I looked around for a place with some kind of carpeting, but all I could find was tile. With my heavy jacket and the blanket I still carried around from my Delta flight to Dublin, I fashioned a makeshift matress thatcovered my upper body, and I put my sweater on to keep from getting cold. My head rested on my backpack, and I slept on my side holding everything else in my arms. I knew I wasn't going to get a whole lot of sleep, but I was happy to find that I did get some (about 3 hours), and at about 7:00am I packed myself back up and got some breakfast from one of the vendors nearby.

As I was sitting at the gate waiting for my flight, low and behold, the girl from before came stolling by and sat down a few rows in front of me. I waited till we caught glances, and then I walked over and sat next to her. She asked me if I had a good sleep, and I told her that corner over there was quite accomodating. She broke forth a small chuckle, and the small talk commenced. Her name's Flo, and it turns out she's from Australia originally (of which I was imediately embarrassed for thinking she was British, I do that a lot for some reason) but she lives in London and runs a pub. Apparently the reason I didn't see her last night was because we had just passed eachother when she had discovered the steel chairs and cold tile floor, she went back and found someplace that had carpeting. As we boarded she asked where I was seated. 10C it said on my ticket, and she showed me hers: 10A. "It must be fate" I said, and she smiled. On the plane we talked a bit more, I got her email address so we could stay in touch, and when we got off the terminal at Cairo someone from her tour was there to pick her up.

I went the opposite way to go buy my visa to get through customs, which I did pretty easily and on the other side I looked for some kind of brochure and map of the city. Before I got halfway to the other side of the room a man in a pale yellow suit caught my eye. I must have looked a little lost, which was a mistake in this country, they don't like to see that here. The man pulled me aside and asked me where I was staying, to which I replied "I haven't found a place yet, Do you know where I can find a map?". He told me to come with him, and lead me into a back room and small corridor. This was it, I thought, He's probably going to take me into the backroom and just execute me. He brought me to a tiny room with a man on the other side of a desk. They said something to eachother in Arabic and he told me to have a seat. He told me he wanted to help me find a place to stay, and a good tour to get hooked up with. All of this was good news to me, so I told him how long I was staying, and what I wanted to see while I was here. He asked if I wanted a four star, or three star hotel, and I told him the three star would be fine. He planned out my agenda for the next 3 days: Light and sound show tonight, pyramids and markets tomorrow, and museums and monuments the next day, and lodging, transportation, and some meals included. He added up the cost and said it would be about 2,760 Egyptian Pounds (about 800 US Dollars), I said great and I pulled out my credit card. He shook his head, "No, no we only can take cash." It was all of the sudden very sketchy, and I told him I couldn't withdrawl that much cash from my account, and he said that's ok, I just give him what I can now and pay the rest later, and he got a couple more guys and told them to drive me to the hotel ATM. Before I knew it, I was in the back of a car with 3 strange Egyptian men wearing suits. Needless to say, I was freaking out, but I tried hard not to show it. I did one smart thing far later than I should have, however. As we were pulling away from the airport, I told them I didn't mean to be rude, but I asked if I could see a business card proving that they do in fact work for the airport, and that we are in fact going to the hotel. Of which they laughed and said of course, and they showed me their business card, which seemed legit enough, but I was still not completely at ease. When we got to the hotel I was able to pull out about 1,000 Egyptian pounds and I felt even more sketched out handing the driver a wad of cash on the street. But they got me situated at my hotel, and I asked them a bunch of questions and talked with them about their tour service and they showed me a bunch of other people doing the same thing, so it's not just me being driven around by strange men. It turns out that I actually stumbled onto a pretty cool thing by being stupid and just getting lucky. What they do is give you a driver, and a guide that just stays with you every day from 9am to 5pm and shows you what you want to see and makes sure you don't get yourself hurt. So in talking to these guys tonight I actually made some pretty cool friends. Hussein (pronounced Hen) is my guide. He calls me Mr. Tyler David which sounds very funny in his severely broken english. He says he will always remember me because "all da time you are smealey" (smiling). He wants me to come back again one day and find him again because he says, "We are now very good friends."

I feel much safer here now despite the fact that it very much looks like the front page of the world news. The streets here are like a superbowl talegate party that went on about 3,000 years too long. Every guard (including simple traffic cops) have an AK47 strapped to their arm. This is a different world entirely.

Tonight I got to see a light show on the great pyramids. The feeling of standing next to them in the middle of the desert is indescribable. I can't even begin to tell you what I felt when I looked up at the stars tonight and saw Orion in the sky (a constellation I've stared at many times at the beach house back home) hovering over top of the pyramids of Egypt. And the vast, ancient desert all around me glowing with the setting sun. It was a sight I know I will never forget. I've seen the pyramids of egypt, and the sphinx in front. I know what the Egyptian desert at sunset smells like. I now have what very few people do.
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Layover in Rome

Layover in Rome

This morning I did my laundry again to make sure I had clean clothes to get me through the Middle East. I think I mentioned before that Ryan's dryer is the most useless piece of junk ever created, so it takes litterally all day to wash clothes. The two of us had a nice quiet day inside the house eating top romen, and watching movies while waiting for my clothes to dry. You probably wouldn't really want to go out side today anyway because the weather had changed for the worse, and it was cold and stormy all day. The cold was a lot more like I'd felt in Ireland and Scotland than what I had seen in England, and Ryan agreed that it was unusually cold for England.

When my clothes had finally dried, I packed them up into my backpack, and it was about time to leave for the airport. However, upon entering the tube station we saw that all the direct routes to Heathrow had been shut down for the weekend, and the only way to get there was through a tangled knot of tubes that went completely in the other direction and then back around to take the Heathrow Express at Padington Street. We now had to rush our way through crowded tube tunnels in the hopes of getting me to the airport in time to check in, find where I'm going, get strip-searched, and get on my plane to Rome. When we had finally made it to the Heathrow Express, it was just about to pull away from the station, so I leaped on board and I said my goodbye to Ryan through the window of the train. As it pulled away from the station, Ryan ran aside my window for a moment yelling after me, like in the classic movies. It was a bit excentric, but it was nice to have that little moment.

At Heathrow I had no idea where I was going. I just had my confirmation printout in my hand and it said terminal 2 on it, so I walked on following the signs to terminal two. Turning left, and then right, upstairs and down stairs, I followed the white rabbit through a labarynth of tunnels and corridors leading into an infinite abyss of more tunnels and corridors. Finally I somehow ended up in front of Alitalia's check in point, and I showed the lady at the front desk my printout and asked her if she knew what I was supposed to do now. She took my printout and studied it for a second, and asked for my passport which I then handed forward. She smiled a truly relieving smile, and typed away on her keyboard. She seemed tickled by the way I looked so flustered and lost, but over it enough to just go along for the ride. We made small talk about where I was going and where I perferred to sit on the plane. She asked if I was going to sleep in the airport in Rome (since my layover is about 10 hours) and I told her "that would be great, as long as it's free." Then she told me about how I need to buy a visa as soon as I get in to Cairo (15 US Dollars) and she asked when I'll be coming back from Cairo. I stopped for a second and said, "I won't be coming back from Cairo, one way is all I need." Her face did that thing when you don't know the answer, and she looked back up at me and repeated, "One way? You don't have your ticket back?" I explained to her that I was going to take the bus from Cairo into Jordan and Isreal, so I didn't book a return flight, but I also havn't bought my bus tickets yet either. I knew right away what the problem was. It's the Egyptian Government's policy that travelers have to have proof of a return trip or that you are not staying in Egypt indefinately in order to get on a plane to Egypt. But since the website that I ordered the tickets from had let me purchase them without a return trip, I figured I'd be ok. The woman at the front desk looked up at me for a moment, and then typed something on her keyboard. The boarding passes for the trip shot out of the slot, and she handed them to me looking around carefully to make sure no one was watching. She bit her lower lip and sat up in her chair, "ok goodbye!" She said in a loud voice. I hesitated, confused, and she gave me a "get the hell out of here" look so I did. I made it through security, and onto my plane with no trouble, and arrived in Rome a couple hours later.

The fiumacino airport was all but barren when I walked up to my next departure gate where I was to spend this night. I had to go through security again unfortunately, and I got to the guards at the security check and asked them if they knew where my gate was. They told me where it was, and asked if it was just the two of us. "Two?" I said and wheeled around and sure enough there was a girl about my age right behind me. "Oh, no she's not with me, I'm traveling alone." I told them. "I'm actually going to that same place too" she said back in a beautiful british accent. "Well two then, I guess" I replied back to them, and made my way through security. She obviously finished before me, and stood by me while I started putting all my things together and getting myself back in order. She asked me why I was going to Cairo, and I told her about my 3 month journey, and she said that she was going on a tour there. I was still dressing myself as she passed by, and she said it was good to meet me, and she'd see me again. I said I'd see her at the terminal. As she rounded the corner it occured to me that I never asked her name, So I quickly finished dressing, grabbed my stuff and headed after her, but she was no where to be found. Even as I reached the gate, I was the only one there, and she was no where in the area.

I'm sitting here at the gate right now, and in the morning I fly to Cairo. I hope I see that girl again, I'd love to ask where she's staying at, and maybe I could get in on that tour she's doing. It'd be great to have a friend in Cairo, and one that's not so hard on the eyes at that.
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