February 2006 Archives

we are in jerusalem.

after slogging through africa for four months, we're now somewhere that's familiar in an unrecognizable way.

i've been here before three times. when i was fifteen i came here for six weeks with a jewish youth group; i had my first real girlfriend, got drunk for the first time and -- most importantly -- first became a foreigner. since then i've come back twice with family on shorter trips, both about fifteen years ago.

now i'm back. but this time, i've grown used to being a foreigner. i've grown familiar with being unfamiliar.

when i first came to israel the idea of being on another continent was awe inspiring. the flourescent yoghurt they served for breakfast was bizzare. the omnipresent jews disconcerting. the old city old.

the old city was so old then. so shatteringly ancient. compared to my pre-yuppie massachusetts hometown -- proudly on the revolutionary war trail! -- jerusalem was cretaceous. walking into the old city was like swallowing the red pill. here, there was a mad arab souk where one could haggle over trays of saffron. here, there were ramparts of sandstone that had overlooked the crusades. here, there was via dolorosa where the blood of jesus fell. here, there was the wailing wall. the last piece of the ancient hebrew temple, where men in black rocked and chanted. where jews from around the world came to lean their heads against the stone and tuck their prayers into the cracks.

now, everything old is new again. i am not a boy excited about his first kiss or his first falafel. i am married. i am thirty-three. i am on my way from the temples of karnak, from giza, from lalibela and axum. the souk is only another souk. the chattering arabs and rocking jews and portly tourists are modern, western, and familiar.

i take my wife to the wall, suggest she go up on the women's side to see what it's like while i approach on my own side. i touch it. see the notes. press in between the hassids to look up at the ruins. and how do i feel?

like a foreigner.

i know how to haggle. i know how to sleep in flea-ridden beds. i know how to stomach local cuisines. i know how to survive endless bus rides and the rest of travel. i don't know how to fit in here. here where i first felt foreign.

am i american? am i jewish? am i a traveler? am i home? yes and no to all.

sitting in the tunnel between the wall and the souk, bartlebee and i decide that our trip is over so it can start again. we have left africa. our journeys there are complete. in jerusalem, we rest with lorel and arnie, sleep late, cook in a kitchen, take long showers and put off sightseeing. in jerusalem, we stay home. from here we will leave home again. on another trip entirely. one that has not been challenging, rough, or frustrating.

because everything old is new again.

i am happy to announce the posting of loads of pictures of our sojourn in egypt. go look.

i just heard it's supposed to snow in jerusalem. this isn't such great news as we're on our way there tomorrow.

of course, it's colder than frozen eskimoes in cairo so whatever. new country! israel! whoop! whoop!

not only do we have friends (FRIENDS! people we KNOW!!!) in jerusalem, but we also have place to stay and i can wear the cool ugandan yarmulke i bought again. not so keen on putting that puppy on in egypt. last night? at the mall? signs on the windows reading, "we do not serve citizens of denmark." luckily, i'm a yank and people hate us for reasons that have nothing to do with cartoons. we just start wars and torture prisoners and shoot our hunting partners in the neck. we do NOT condone the mocking of prophets and don't like people who do. except for the danes. and the norwegians. they have such nice eyes!

for all of you who are worried about us, what with the going to israel and terrorist fooferaw and anti-me-ism and brain worms and stuff, we decided to do you a big favor: we bought tickets to fly to sri lanka.

see? now you're not so worried about us going to israel, right?

no, really. it's good. we checked it out and sri lanka should be safe as houses as long as we stay in the south. the tamil tigers are more or less chill these days and no one wants to screw with the few tourists they can get post-tsunami.

but why sri lanka, you ask? well here's how it went.

EXT: FELUCCA - DAY

Zack, Bilge Pump Bob and Roger the Cabin Boy are swaddled in blankets watching their breath puff in the chill Nile River air.

ZACK: We need to go somewhere warm. This is not warm. We need some relaxing on the beach.

BOB: Sri Lanka is supposed to be great, man. It's summat else. I'd go there.

ROGER: I lahved Sri Lankah. Great food, friendly people, cheap.

Zack: Huh.

INT: INTERNET CAFE - DAY

Zack and Bartlebee sit at two computers, typing and reading.

ZACK: Tickets to Sri Lanka from Jerusalem are all $1400! Forget it. Oh. Dude. Look at this! Amman to Sri Lanka? On Emirates? $315. No change fee. Cancelling the tickets? We only lose $20.

BARTLEBEE: Huh!

END

and that, friends, is how great plans are made.

here in luxor, it's luxorious. despite what the guide book says (renamed the Lonely Bollocks by Bilge Pump Bob), luxor is not any more a-swarm with touts than the rest of egypt.

that title would go to dahab.

what luxor is a-swarm with is hieroglpyphs of cow buttocks, giant pillars carved with pictures of gods who have giants pillars, and riverboats that look like someone flooded the projects and moved in a bunch of fat americans with video cameras. and temples. old, beautiful, massive temples that were built before your country was an itch in it's daddy's pants.

them pharoahs? they rich old skool. like filthy wealthy. so here in luxor, it's luxorious.

but i'm getting ahead of myself. we got to luxor on a felucca.

it's not really disappointed. that would imply that things have let me down. it's more misappointed.

disappointed would be showing up for a blind date to find out the woman in question favors electric pink and has bought you tickets to a yanni concert. that's disappointed. misappointed is like showing up for a blind date to discover that the woman in question is actually a gazillionaire with a private island hideaway but you were supposed to show up YESTERDAY and she's already moved on.

that's misappointed. and that's how i've felt in Dahab until today.