A Very Different Place

It's hot. It doesn't seem to matter where you are. The thermometer in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia topped 110 degrees Fahrenheit during my recent visit. Dubai, UAE was the same but sticky with the misting fans at the airport just making things worse, not better.

Though the Arab Spring revolutions brought turmoil to the region, you don't see it on a typical trip. The security at airports is stepped up some. In Algiers, there was police armoured car presence in public spaces the week after the food price protests. But in Jordan, Lebanon and Saudi Arabia little else seemed out of place.

Some of the dialogue was as you'd expect. Universally everyone hated Israel. This just seemed to work its way into every conversation. There were countries that would check passports for Israeli entries with the intent to deny entry to anyone who had been there. The intellectuals I generally work with in my profession also usually had choice things to say about their own authoritarian governments and Islamic fundamentalists. No one seems to mind sharing coffee and a game of cards with an American though; here with my colleague.

But the cultures and countries of the region offer up very different flavors of the common theme. At a more localized level, the Lebanese Christians were not keen on their Palestinian compatriots or current government, Jordanian Muslim taxi drivers tried to sell me on visiting the site of John's baptism of Jesus, the all female call center staff in Dubai were segregated into separate rooms by ethnicity rather than religion; Arabs vs. Asians, Algerian road signs are posted in English, French and Arabic in a country which celebrates expelling the French, and in Saudi Arabia the female staff would call out the presence of males entering their work areas so staff could cover with their abaya as needed. The last was almost comical, as it was repeated over and over again anytime a male needed to pass through that portion of the office.

All in all it is a very different place.

On this trip I perhaps liked Lebanon the most. Its mix of religions, ethnicities and cultures all knocking elbows in a very small strip off the Mediterranean make it a comfortable yet exciting place for a foreign visitor. Differences are celebrated, or ignored, which makes it far different than the Gulf States or Algeria. This is perhaps because of its history.

I visited Byblos (Jbeil) during my trip, the oldest continually inhabitated human settlement in the world. It figures prominently in the Old Testament, was the original Phonecian city, and was a key transit point for ancient Egyptian goods to the rest of the world. There is a significant Egyptian influence on early Phoencian art I recognized from my time in Egyptian museums.

The city got its name from the export of Egyptian papyrus; Byblos in Greek (Gebal in Phonecian). Many will recognize that because of this role in the printed word, its name is associated with the root word for library in many Indo-European languages. I thought it appropriate on this trip to read a book on the region in celebration and I chose T.E. Lawrence's undergraduate thesis on Crusader Castles now available in print from the Folio Society. His research for his thesis was his first introduction to the Middle East. He even learned Arabic to write it. What better author to read on a first trip to the Levant and Arabian Peninsula?

Apart from Phonecian, Greek and Roman periods, Byblos was a significant Crusader outpost before being ruled by Turks and Arabs. Its castle was a communication point and fiefdom within the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Lawrence's book provided great detail in preparation for climbing all over the remains (though without the native Arab residents who apparently lived in its ruins in Lawrence's time). For anyone with a fascination with castles as I have, it is a great visit as well as a good read.

In Lebanon I also had occassion to visit the caves of Jeita. At first I was not excited by the prospect and viewed it as an enforced stop by my tour bus on the way to Byblos. However, once I had entered it was beyond expectation. As a jaded cave visitor I did not expect much, but the sheer scale of the upper caverns and the river trip in the lower were impressive.

The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia was different again. Flying over the Arabian Desert to get there gives you the sense of being over a great sea of sand. I was destined for Jeddah, so the tail end of my flight passed over the Red Sea (which is more purplish). There is not much else visible other than an urban sprawl and the King's massive Jeddah Fountain. And yes, it was over one hundred degrees Fahrenheit every day.

Saudi Arabia was perhaps the country most like what I anticipated, and yet completely different. My flight in was filled with pilgrims on Umrah dressed in their white Ihram garb. Coming from Amman, it was quite different than the pilgrims from Afghanistan. One pilgrim had all his electronics on a coordinated, white belt and a stack of luggage, which was so markedly different from impoverished Afghans it made me wonder if the two actually could become one even if thrown into the same space. As you would expect, security was tight at Jeddah airport which is a main pilgrimage port of entry.

Indeed, the residents of Saudi Arabia presented a more religious homgeneity than the pilgrims. I was particularly struck by the locals gathering for prayer on large rugs laid out on open sidewalks outside strip malls during the call to prayer. Saudi Arabia's working world is a mixture of ethnicties and nationalities. Here they were gathered together wherever and with whomever it was convenient using a rug provided by a shopkeeper to practice their faith. It seemed far more in the spirit of the faith than the electronics laden Umrah pilgrim.

As anticipated, there were no women drivers. You wouldn't notice this unless you paid attention to it, as female passengers were not always hidden in the back seat behind tinted glass (though often they were). Nor were all women wrapped like mummies in hijab, though the abaya was ever-present. Women at the airport had fold-up versions they would pull from a purse upon arrival, though not always close.

Just as exciting was my dip in the Dead Sea from the Jordan side. Yes, it is so salty that you have to work to sink. It tastes bitter too, though its supposed to be very theraputic. You can see the Palastinian West Bank from the Jordan side of the sea, which again made me think of how what goes on in such a small place can influence a whole region. It makes the influence of Jesus and the disciples easier to understand, much on my mind as I looked at the dried up river bed of the Jordan, the summit of Mt. Nebo and passed roadsigns for the site of John's baptisms. I breakfasted next to a US Army Special Forces noncom and his partner afterwards who was talking about work, just bring home how far the influence of this spot stretches across the planet.

In contrast to the sleek tile and air conditioning of the Dead Sea Marriott, the world outside was much as one would picture it. Along the road camels were grazing in the midst of herds of goats in farmers pastures or corralled in stalls. Nomadic or impoverished pastoralists lived in pitched tents or mud brick huts on the rocky ground in the shadow of two and three story housing compounds. In the evening, numerous vactioners between destinations pulled their cars over to the side of highway, laid out their bedrolls and lit fires to cook ther dinners in the desert night. For me it brought back memories of cooking shashlik from the trunk of a car on the side of the road in Moldova and Kyrgyzstan.

The Kasbah in Algiers was yet a different twist; its winding narrow Turkish streets and common houses a decided contrast to the modern development in the other countries or the old souks of Jbeil in Lebanon.

Perhaps the final conclusion I had from my trip was that Islam as it is practiced is certainly not unified or even cohesive. Yes, it pervades every aspect of life. However, there is official and unofficial Islam. There is conservative and liberal Islam. In every society, and within societies, Islam as it is really praticed can be widely, and surprisingly, different.

Escamoles and Agave

I recently spent some time in Mexico City with the chance to explore. It has changed some since my last visit a few years ago; primarily its pollution level. The owners of our local business partner used to joke that I was his "canary in the mine". Whenever I got sick visiting it was a sure sign that the red air pollution warning would go up the next morning.


Nowadays the air is much cleaner, primarily due to the introduction of large buses to replace microbuses as part of the mass transit system. Mexico City is the second largest city in the world, after Tokyo, and has the traffic and air pollution that goes with it. Mass transit is the secret to solving some of their knottier problems.

While in Mexico this trip I have the chance to try new cuisine. Chapulines (sauteed grasshoppers), escamoles (ant eggs), goat and cactus fruit. The escamoles were excellent. The goat, cactus fruit and chapulines mediocre. I was surprised by the size of the escamoles. Sure enough, they come from some pretty big ants; the giant black Liometopum ant.


The Liometopum ant lives in the agave plant. I and an old friend learned about the agave on an excursion to Teotihuacan, Mexico. The agave is ubiquitous in Mexico, growing wild in rural areas. In Pre-Colombian Mexico it was cultivated and harvested on farms for use as paper, clothing and drink. The Mexica used it to make their own "beer", which the Spaniards perfected after their arrival in tequilla. The blue agave is used for tequilla.


Our visits to the Mexica (Aztec) and Teotihuacan sites in Mexico were stellar. Teotihuacan is the remains of a pre-Mexica culture which was actually discovered by the Mexica centuries after it was abandoned. The Mexica used what they found as the basis for some of their later religious practices; believing their creation myths took place there. They believed it to be an ancient city of the gods.

Today we know it was probably occupied from 200 BCE to the 7th-8th centuries by a fairly sophisticated culture which worshipped the Sun and Moon and viewed jaguars and the snake-dragon as symbols of power. Their city has enourmous pyramids to the Sun and Moon and images of jaguars and feathered serpents with jaguar features abound. It is believed to have been the dominant culture in South America during its time, including Mayan cultures as far south as present day Guatemala and Honduras.

We followed this visit with one to the Historic Center of Mexico City, which has both the Spanish Conquistador Mexico City Metropolitan Cathedral and the remains of the Mexica Templ0 Mayor; the one being built on top of the other. The plaza is second only to Moscow's Red Square in size. The Spanish intentionally built the cathedral on the site of the sacred precinct of Tenochtitlan to co-opt the sanctity of the site for Catholicism and obliterate the Mexica shrines. Stone from the precinct was used to build the Cathedral. Outside the cathedral are crosses decorated with skulls and snakes. Whether intentional or not, this too co-opted Mexica religious symbology and the newly conquered peoples would bow down to the crucifix while paying homage to their old symbols.


The Templo Mayor is quite stunning. It was supposedly built on the site where the Mexica saw an eagle perched on a nopal cactus with a snake in its mouth; a sign to settle and build a city. The eagle with a snake are on the Mexican flag today. The Mexica built the pyramid's sides and top layer by layer. Built on an island in a lake, the whole city continued to sink into the ground over time so the additional building was necessary to maintain the pyramid's height. On it sat two shrines; one to the god of war Huitzilopochitli and the other to the much older god of rain and agriculture Tlaloc. Pictured below is the god of rain who sat atop the pyramid. He also appears at Teotihuacan.



Next to the pyramid is the House of the Eagle Warriors, which was a privileged military class dedicated to Huitzilopochitli. The House itself is built in the style of Teotihuacan. To become an Eagle Warrior one had to capture more than four enemies for sacrifice. The skulls of the sacrificed (estimated at 60,000 skulls) were displayed on a rack called a tzompantli.



Legend has it that warriors ascended to the heaven of Huitzioopochitli but could return as hummingbirds or butterflies. I am hoping on my next trip to Mexico to visit the Monarch Butterfly Biosphere Reserve at Michoacan and perhaps see some returning souls.

Four Towers

Mankind has a thing for towers. Either as a way to look down on people, or to get people to look up, they usually "tower" over places where people congregate. As I've wandered the planet this year, my travels have included visits to a variety of towers.

In April I had the chance to revisit the Tower of London. What I find fascinating about it is not all the gory Shakespearian mythos of the place, but its Norman architecture. The original White Tower was completed by William the Conqueror by 1100. Compared to other fortifications of the period in other parts of the world, it's Norman architecture seems almost delicate and artistic.

One of the displays inside housed representations of faces of the various King's of England. My family on my father's side traces our minority English ancestry to Norman invaders who accompanied William. I thought it interesting to study his face for any similiarities. He certainly has my big nose!

The fortifications themselves are also fascinating; incorporating the original Roman walls which defended the city of Londinium founded by Rome. The outer Lion Tower had drawbridges and housed the royal menagerie. The fireplace flues were designed to vent sideways to prevent the enemy counting signs of smoke and estimating enemy strength. Even the toilets were fortified to prevent attackers from crawling up the sewer. Of course there were the usual fighting galleries, tower stairs descending to the left, and an interesting example of hoardings.

I found the original Norman chapel of St. John to be moving; sitting in the space used by William the Conquerer himself. The Chapel is still used today by the Order of the Knights of the Bath's vigil before coronations.

The Burj Khalifa is equally delicate and artistic. Currently the tallest building in the world, it is all curves and spires reaching 2,717 feet in the air. The view from the Visitor's Observation Deck is reminiscent of looking out an airplane window during an airport approach. Yet when one looks up, there is still an entire office building above you.

Like all things in Dubai, it is modern, sophisticated and designed to entertain. The fountain show at its foot is visible from the deck. It is a creation of WET Designs; the same firm that designed the Bellagio water fountain. The Dubai Fountain is perhaps more impressive, if such a thing is possible.

The tower visit process is a microcosim of Dubai itself. You buy tickets in advance online or at the entrance which is housed in The Dubai Mall; a gigantic, high end shopping mall. The ticket and entrace lines are filled with an international mix of peoples from all walks of life. The silent, sleek elevators whisk you to the top with appropriate thematic music. On the way out you learn that the tower is the product of a cosmopolitan mixture of the best minds from around the world and United Arab Emirates financing. It is all a very Dubai experience.

In striking contrast is the central tower of the National Cathedral in Washington DC. Designed to impress in cathedralic style, it is covered in gargoyles and has an awe-inspiring set of bells. Apparently, one of the gargoyles on the cathedral is Darth Vader, and they sell chocolate lollipops of the "Dark Lord" at the gift shop so children can bite his head off.

The cathedral, though Episcopalian, is intended to be a national place of worship for Americans of all faiths. During our visit one Sunday morning in July we stopped to listen to the organ music of the service, before wandering the stained glass windows. Our favorites was the "Space" window, in addition to the impressive rose window. We also met Abraham Lincoln and George Washington along the way and visited the resting place of Woodrow Wilson.

Perhaps just as restful are the outdoor spaces. We enjoyed defeating Vader in the small, fieldstone pavillion in the Bishop's herb garden. We also stopped to play in the fountain in the courtyard. In all a pleasant reprieve from our gruelling itinerary about the city.

We also made a visit to the Smithsonian Castle and its towers; one of which I worked in many years ago while a German-language research assistant at the Woodrow Wilson Center. Famous for "Night At The Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian," my children enjoyed visiting the gardens and the merry-g0-round in between seeing Able the "proud Capuchin monkey" at the National Air and Space Museum and Dum-Dum the Easter Island head at the American Museum of Natural History.

Eyjafjallajokull and Me

Volcanic ash...in England? Yes, for that week in April (15th to the 20th) I found myself stranded in England along with an estimated 40,000 other American flyers by the volcanic ash from the eruption of Mt. Eyjafjallajokull in Iceland. Completely by chance, of course. I was on a 4 hour layover between Madrid and Raleigh waiting in the Heathrow American Airlines lounge when the news came on the telvision with images of the volcano. As the annoucer spoke of messages from the UK's Volcanic Ash Advisory Centre (VAAC) and the National Air Traffic Services (NATS) warning of impending flight cancellations, I watched with a sense of resignation as the flight board went red.

It was odd being cocooned in the lounge, or later to be walking around outside, and see no evidence of the ash at all. In fact, it was odd to be walking around London and have sunny, blue skies; which we had the week or so I was there. Stranded with a co-worker, who had arranged a 8 hour layover to speak at the BBC on his way between Dubai and Washington, DC, we spent most our time trying to figure out how to get off the island, interspersed with working in our hotel rooms and some sightseeing.

During those first days we made a trip out to Greenwich to visit the Royal Observatory; one of the few sights in London neither of us had seen. The water taxi ride up the Thames was pleasant and I recommend it. The Observatory was fascinating and nestled in the very pleasant Greenwich Park. It is the site of the invention in 1765 of the measurement of longitude (via clocks), the home of Greenwich Mean Time developed for that purpose, and the location of the Prime Meridian. Greenwich itself is a UNESCO World Heritage site and we ended the visit with ice cream in the Greenwich Market while waiting for our double-decker London bus back to the city. You can just see the volcanic particulate haze that was appearing on the London skyline in the picture of the Park below.

The attempt to escape was frantic. 40,000 stranded Americans was just the tip of the iceberg. It was the start of the British version of spring break, so add to that all the Europeans trying to get home or leave. And the cloud shut down most of Northern Europe as well, so add to that all the British not on the island trying to get back and all the other Europeans and Americans trying to get off the continent and get home. An estimated 17,000 European flights were cancelled on April 17th alone. The crush was overwhelming. Flights from the UK and other countries, were all rebooked and recancelled on a rolling daily basis.

Other transportation was not better. Very quickly everyone figured out the only way to get home was to leave the UK however possible. Ferries were booked solid weeks in advance. The only openings were for those who rode bicycles, and people bought them in droves at the coast so they could board only to abandon them in France, Spain, Portugal and the Benelux. The Eurostar was sold out for weeks, even after the government doubled the number of trains. Even the Queen Elizabeth 2 sold out. We considered trying to pay a fisherman cash to carry us across to France, but the prospect of joining droves of other pedestrians with luggage on the French coast with no forward transportation or place to stay was daunting.

Hotels were also a problem, as those trying to leave booked everything near transit and those who decided to wait it out booked everything in London. We had to change hotels regularly to find empty rooms. We finally moved out to Slough to save money and find rooms we could hold for a week. Ironically, the railroad's slogan was about being better connected?

We put in about 4 hours a day in Slough looking for ways to escape, interspersed with trips to Slough's laundromat, the Tesco and looking for something to eat other than the hotel's pint with fish and chips. We often ran into other stranded Americans doing exactly the same; a fraternity of sorts. We ended up eating a lot of Middle Eastern food. Ironic, as we had both just come from the Middle East.

The home office told us to just get home; cost was not an issue. In the end, we managed to secure seats on one of the extra Eurostar trains and went to Paris; though we had no onwards plan. We figured it had plenty of hotels and and more travel options to elsewhere.

We then sat at a cafe in the Gard du Nord with thousands of other people trying to figure out a plan. The experience was very French. The staff inside the station spoke little to no English, the menus were only in French and the attendant at the pay toilets could not produce correct change. The last is what struck me, as the line of needy people stretched out the door and down the hall, but the attendant would not let you in without exact change of 70 Euro cents as she'd run out of change. What traveler from outside the Euro zone (which excludes the UK and everyone on Eurostar) carries that? The entire experience was not service friendly for the majority of customers, who come from the UK and Eurostar.

Our plan at the time was to try to get to Madrid, which was not under the cloud. From there I could fly to Puerto Rico and back to Raleigh. My colleague could fly direct to Washington. Spain was a long way, and crowded with everyone else trying to escape. (The UK was picking British citizens up off the beach with naval vessels and shipping them home.) We also toyed with Vienna and Rome, which were at the edge of the ash.

While we were struggling through how to pee and get out from under the cloud that covered most of Europe, the US office called and said they had found us tickets to Dubai from Rome. Could we get to Rome? Since we both had to be back in Dubai in a few weeks anyway, we figured that was a better place to be stranded than Europe, so we decided to figure it out.

Most trains from France were booked solid with escapees. Madrid and Vienna trains were booked solid. We could make it to Munich only. Flights everywhere were booked solid. However, we could get an overnight train at midnight to Rome. When the office called, we chose Rome and headed off to the airport to spend time seeing if we could get standby on a flight to Rome, until we needed to leave for the Gard du Est for the Rome train.

The subway was another typically French experience. My colleague asked some French teens in English on one train if we had the right one and they told him "non". Of course we did, and I could tell from the kid's face he was intentionally misleading the "dumb American". I just added it to my life-long pile of negative experiences in France.

At Charles de Gaulle Airport, we drifted around several terminals looking for flights that were still on. The European flights terminal was empty and silent, except for JAL and Turkish Air. We tried getting on each; JAL to Tokyo was booked solid and the line of Japanese businessmen at security wrapped around the ticket hall. Turkish Air to Istanbul was also full, but here we were just stuck in line behind a pair of bickering Turks; which was oddly familiar and comfortable for both of us given our exposure to the region.

So we drifted over to the hall housing the US airlines. At this point, a week into the experience, there were a couple of flights out to Canada and the US. All others showed as cancelled, and more were cancelling as we watched the two-story board from a balcony. I am pleased to report however that the airport carpeting no longer stinks like cigarettes. CDG used to me my least favorite airport because the terminals stank like cigarettes.

Just then the US office called and said they had Air France tickets from Paris to Rome; could we make it? We flew down the terminal to the gate and were soon on board. The French scalped us USD 1000 a seat and stuck us on an Alitalia flight, but we made it to Rome. We arrived about 1 AM after a USD 70 taxi ride; too late for the hotel kitchen to serve us dinner. There was no Internet either of course at this Marriott, though it had a great view in the morning. Welcome to Italy.

Early next morning we arrived at the Rome airport to make a bid for standby seats home rather than flying to Dubai. We figured we'd just hang around ticket counters until our Dubai flight and see if we could get on. We were pleased to get standby status on our respective airlines, and my colleague went off to the United gates. I waited with a horde of anxious standby passengers at my gate waiting to see if I'd get on; I was last on the list. There were crying college students who were broke and had been sleeping in the airport; old Italians who did not understand what was going on; pushy international businessmen who knew the score; and a crew of 6 Italian American Airlines staff trying to sort out 20+ standby tickets and the crowd.

In the end, it all worked out and I made it on the flight home via Chicago. At that point I was happy to fly West to Chicago to fly East to Raleigh. It was better than some routing via Puerto Rico or Dubai. Ironically, the second erruption of Eyjafjallajokull cancelled my second return home the next month as well and I had to reroute via Frankfut. But that is a different story.

Some Time In The South

Over the last few years we have spent time exploring North Carolina. I had once believed I might live everywhere in the US but Dixie. It held no appeal. However, with my domestic wandering days behind me, here I now pleasantly sit.

North Carolina has three regions. From West to East they are the Blue Ridge Mountains, the Piedmont, and Coastal Plain. Each offers something unique, attractive and within a 4 hour drive. The mountains are a cool escape in the summer and a winter wonderland. The beach is pleasant in the summer as well, though the hurricane season is not so much.

North Carolina has interesting history those outside the state would probably never learn. It started out as a privately owned colony run as a business by English owners. It eventually became owned by the Crown like the other colonies, though North Carolinians like the Regulators did not like the taxation that came with it presaging the Revolution. They fought the Governor's militia at the Battle of Alamance over taxation and rights in 1771. North Carolina's status meant it was only populated and developed enough to run as an agricultural plantation and was (and still is) sparsely populated.

No permanent capital like Williamsburg here, until Tryon Palace was built right before the Revolution in New Bern. During the Revolution the Loyalists remained trapped there after the patriot militia used cannon on the mostly Scotch Highlander forces wielding their basket-hilt swords and targes at the Battle of Moore's Creek Bridge in 1776. The victory led to North Carolina being the first colony to declare independence from Great Britain.

North Carolina does have a fascinating, preserved colonial-period town at Old Salem established by German Moravians. It is still possible there to sleep in a period tavern and eat off pewter plates by candlelight.

The State likes to highlight it linkages to Blackbeard the Pirate, who was pardoned by the Governor of all previous piratical acts and settled in Bath off Ocracoke Inlet after burning his flagship Queen Anne' Revenge on a North Carolina sand bar. Of course, the Royal Governor of Virginia invaded North Carolina with militia and Britiah Royal Navy personnel to kill him off and haul his crew back to Williamsburg to stand trial. High schools here regularly call themselves the Pirates, Buccaneers, et al. and the Revenge has been found and preserved as a historical site.


North Carolina also has its share of Civil War ironclads. The CSS Neuse was built, sunk and discovered a century later at the bottom of the Neuse River in Kinston. It only action was to delay Union land forces from New Bern from reaching the railhead at Goldsboro during the Battle of Wyse Fork on March 8-10, 1865. Today, enthusiasts are rebuilding it in Kinston.

The sinking of the Neuse was closely followed by the Battle of Bentonville (March 19-21), being General Sherman's last major battle following his destructive "March to the Sea," the end of the CSA Army of Tennessee, and the last major engagement of the Civil War. Every 5 years the Last Charge of the Army of Tennessee is reenacted by enthusiasts from all over the United States (Some 2500 strong) on the national park site not far from our house. The final surrunder of remaining CSA forces occured April, 1865 at Bennett Place in the next county over. University of North Carolina's athletic moniker the "Tar Heels" comes from North Carolinians who served with the Army of Tennessee, who were called Tar Heels because they never gave ground. To this day North Carolina is known as the Tar Heel State.

Today's North Carolina offers world class symphony orchestra, opera company, ballet and museums of all kinds near our home. I enjoy singing with the chorus. Our family particularly enjoys its state-of-the-art, 500 acre, state zoo in Asheboro. The Piedmont is also host to a variety of wineries and surprisingly good German ethnic eateries.

When the weather is too hot in the Piedmont, we can drive to the Blue Ridge and enjoy sites like the Nature Convervancy's Grandfather Mountain (site of the annual Highland Games), the Yadkin Wine Valley and the beauty of the Biltmore estate. The mountains remind us of Utah and the altitude and summer temperatures fend off the mosquitos.

And if none of the above appeals, there is always the beach. We have been to the Cape Fear beaches and look forward to visiting those of the Outer Banks sooner rather than later; the birthplace of flight (though some in Ohio dispute that).