"Follow Your Arrow down the Lost Highway"

I was just a lad, nearly 22
Neither good nor bad, just a kid like you
And now I'm lost, too late to pray
Lord I take a cost, oh the lost highway

I'm a rollin' stone all alone and lost
For a life of sin I have paid the cost
When I pass by all the people say
Just another guy on the lost highway

Just a deck of cards and a jug of wine
And a woman's lies makes a life like mine
Oh the day we met, I went astray
I started rolling down that lost highway

If you don't go to church
You'll go to hell
If you're the first one
On the front row
You're self-righteous
Son of a-
Can't win for losing
You'll just disappoint 'em
Just 'cause you can't beat 'em
Don't mean you should join 'em

You're damned if you do
And you're damned if you don't
So you might as well just do
Whatever you want
So
When the straight and narrow
Gets a little too straight
Just follow your arrow
Wherever it points, yeah
Follow your arrow
Wherever it points

Say what you think
Love who you love
'Cause you just get
So many trips 'round the sun
Yeah, you only
Only live once

I'm a geek.  I love the social sciences - every single one of them!  Yet, if you asked me three and a half years ago what I knew about Morocco, I would have told you Casablanca was one of my favorite movies.  Okay, I could have told you it was an Islamic nation in North Africa with major cities like Fes, Tangier and Marrakech, but not a whole lot more.  If you had asked me three and a half years ago if I would go there to live and work, I would have told you that you must have been smoking something a lot harder than 'shisha'.  Yet, here I am having finished my 3-year tenure at an American school in Casa, having had the adventure of a lifetime, and that doesn't include traveling to 20 other countries during my time in the Maghreb.

Back to those social sciences - history, politics, religion, psychology, and all the rest - I lived an advanced lesson.  It would take me a few more years to detail it all, if I could.  And that is just the surface.  I've been trying to sort a jumble of emotions ever since I knew earlier this spring I was going to be leaving here for good at the end of school year.  Considering my personality, my history and the circumstances by which I came here, I figured I'd come here, do a year or two, roll out, and not look back.  Wrong.  (Though, while getting lost in the everyday life, very frequently I'd forget where I was, only to ask myself: "Am I actually in Africa?  How did I get here?  What am I doing here.  WTF?!"  I don't rule out the possibility that one day I will wake up and realize it was only a dream that I spent 3 years of my life in Africa...)

As a 6'3 big-bodied, fair-complected Roman Catholic, I knew I'd stand out here.  However, not only was I immersed in Muslim culture; I didn't realize that I'd be surrounded by a majority of strident Christians at work.  As in the U.S., women, Jews and sub-Saharan Africans don't enjoy first-class status in Maroc, though the dynamics are different.  I've enjoyed the unsolicited friendliness and hospitality of countless Moroccans, yet at times have been cheated and mistreated because of what I am.
Not the biggest country in the world, nonetheless Morocco enjoys remarkable beauty at the Atlantic and Mediterranean coasts, the Rif and Atlas mountains, waterfalls and deserts, unique cities like Chefchaouen and Ifrane, and so much more.  While rightly regarded as a stable, moderate force in the region, I won't say I've not been a little edgy this year when I've seen troops patrolling areas where expats like me frequent, in response to intelligence suggesting I S I S wants to kidnap someone like myself.

Yesterday was my last day at GWA; tomorrow is my last day in Morocco before I hop aboard Qatar Airways for a flight home, home being New Jersey for a week, then Connecticut as I start a new job at a boarding school there.  As big a change as that will be, it's been difficult to get excited, because of all of the emotion I've been feeling about leaving here.  For about 1000 days I've been working and living with people from every corner of the United States who have lived and worked in every corner of the globe, and connecting with students who have backgrounds unlike any I've ever encountered.  I actually felt something, felt a lot of some things, as the clock wound down on my final day as a Mustang.
I believe I'm the same person I was when I arrived here at the age of 43; while I've learned some new tricks, I am certain I'm the same old dog.  You'll have a hard time convincing me that a zebra can change its stripes.  At the same time, I know this experience has changed me mightily, and for the better, by the way, even if I cannot exactly describe how.  Maybe I'll be able to later on.  I still have a lot of reflection to do...

When the straight and narrow
Gets a little too straight
Just follow your arrow
Wherever it points, yeah
Follow your arrow
Wherever it points

(Don't) Walk Like An Egyptian

Well, I guess I could try to "Walk Like An Egyptian", but it's no use - there is no way in hell I'd ever fit in!  That is to say, the number of white people I noticed in 4 days I could fit on the fingers of my 2 hands.  I spoke to the 9 tourists I encountered while in the city, and they were all from the U.K.  (Yes, I approached total strangers and engaged them in conversation - I was desperate for interaction with English-speaking people!)  Weather-wise, this is the perfect time of year, the $US is pummeling the Egyptian pound, and I'm the only Yank here?  I knew political unrest in Egypt had greatly hurt tourism, but this was ridiculous.  Cairo. Is. Dead.

Once again, getting to my destination was not without its twists and turns.  I met up with my lovely colleague KM to go to the train station and buy a ticket for the last train of the night going to the airport.  Only the day before had she booked the same flight as me, to visit her sister who works and studies in Egypt.  This would benefit me later...

We stood on the platform and noticed that the info on the electronic sign was for an earlier train that had not yet shown up.  That made us more than a little nervous, that, and the crowd of soccer hooligans just waiting to cause trouble.  I was literally caught in a riot by my apartment near the stadium just a couple of hours before, so I was not in the mood.  My intelligent companion suggested we eat the ticket and try to take a taxi to the airport, as we were cutting it very close.  There were numerous red taxis as usual, but they were prohibited by law from leaving the city limits, like to go to the airport, for example.  Luckily, there was 1 white taxi present, and, he charged only the going rate, when he really could have put it to us!

We got to the airport and had no difficulty getting to our assigned gate.  We watched the previous flight at that gate board and wondered how they were going to make such a quick turnaround.  Fortunately, my observant travel partner turned around and saw our flight boarding, at that moment, at a gate behind us.  The flight was pretty light; we both hoped that we'd be able to lay across a row and get a little sleep.  One of us would be disappointed.  She deserved better...

We got to Cairo International Airport and my friend navigated us through the system as only someone could who had been there before.  I was given a health form to fill out.  She advised to ignore it.  Um, okay.  Never would have guessed it was "optional".  Transportation from the airport into the city is not easy How was I going to get all the way to my hotel in Giza on the opposite side of the metro area, she asked?  Um, I'd figure it out.  No, I wouldn't.  Her friend in Egypt, who didn't have a car, had a friend who did.  Friend #2 drove us outside of the airport area, where the taxi drivers would have eaten me alive, to a spot where bilingual Friend #1 made an arrangement with a cabbie to get me to my hotel for a price that wouldn't break the bank.  My place was near 3 other name properties, but those were along main roads and mine was a boutique joint on a side street.  My guy had to stop twice to ask locals how to find the hotel.  It was only when I saw a small sign pointing us in the right direction did we finally get there.  Couldn't blame him, though.

The Soluxe Cairo Hotel is part of a large Chinese-owned chain and looked as if it was designed to appeal to the Chinese traveler.  Only ever saw only a handful of guests during my 4 days there.  Nice enough place, service was good, though it was near nothing else whatsoever.  It's selling point: it was within walking distance of one of the 2 gates to the pyramids.  I could see one of the pyramids from my 3rd-floor balcony.  Poolside was nice; the tunes from the tiki bar were flowing and there was always a hookah just waiting for you!

My first stop was to the Cairo Tower.  614 feet at its apex.  You know, it's one of those things a city builds for tourists to ascend and take in the views.  I'm a sucker for stuff like that.  In Europe, I've climbed to the top of many churches to take panoramic photos of cityscapes.  This structure, whose design was inspired by the lotus flower, got me to fork over my (foreigner price!) 10 bucks, and I got a little more than I bargained for...

After 10 people squeezed into an elevator car approximately 1 x 1 meter (seriously!) we actually made it to the observation deck, a narrow way that circles the tower, and the real fun began!  Some guy with his very little kid just started going off on me.  The only thing I understood was when he was pointing to the sky and invoking the name of Allah.  This could be bad.  Fortunately, a large security guard quietly removed him without further incident...

I walked from the tower across a bridge spanning the Nile and to the Egyptian Museum.  I knew it was right by Tahrir Square, where of course some major stuff has gone down in recent years.  When I got to the museum however I was not prepared for what I saw...

There were no imminent problems that I was aware of so I was surprised to see a lot of barbed wire, tanks, heavily armed soldiers by the building.  I chose not to take photos of these fine fellas, but take my word for it, you've never entered a museum under these conditions.  I think about 50 pieces were looted during the protests and only about half returned 4 years out, so the people here are justifiably very protective of their stuff.  I passed through the first security gate and took some photos of the grounds before I turned in my camera...

(Notice the burned-out hulk of the former building that housed the ruling Democratic National Party looming over the museum - it looks worse in person!)  I went security check #2 and started through what I anticipated would be one of the most spectacular collections on the planet.  If you're an Egyptologist obviously the place has all kinds of items to make you drool but the quality of the museum was poor, to put it charitably!  It was a dump, like the rest of the city.  At least I got to see the mask and coffins of King Tut up close and personal (and came tantalizingly close to bribing a guy to take a photo of me next to the mask and email it to me with his cameraphone)!  I am certain he'd have gone for it if his wife and kids weren't there :(  How did he get in with that thing?!  I wanted to get my grubby paws on some famous stuff, and my chance was coming...

And for the reason I traveled to this filthy sewer of a city - the pyramids!  I take a taxi to the front gate and enter the site.  I could not believe I was finally there!  A lifelong dream realized - I was at the pyramids!  I was a little excited, if you hadn't guessed.  I went face-to-face with the Sphinx (he didn't blink).  I actually touched the pyramids.  I had brought a small water bottle to collect sand from the site.  I never imagined I'd also actually get a piece of a pyramid, but, I got very lucky.

The 2nd-tallest and largest of the 3 main pyramids at Giza there is the one for Khafre, son of Khufu (Great Pyramid dude).  Though about 10 feet shorter than the Great Pyramid, Khafre's (worn down to about 448 feet today) looks larger because of being built on a higher elevation, and it also has a more elaborate complex surrounding it (including the aforementioned Sphinx).  As I approached it, I noticed that just around one corner, one block up, somehow a chunk had gotten chipped away, and a small piece of lovely limestone was just waiting to be grabbed, if I could jump and get it.  I did :)

I didn't feel too well the rest of my time in Cairo and never did get to Alexandria or Luxor, which would've been nice.  But it was just as well because I absolutely hated being there.  In addition to being indescribably dirty there was nothing happening there at all, plus, it was the first time in 3 years and 21 countries where I felt unwanted, uncomfortable and threatened.  Don't walk like an Egyptian.  Run.  Away.  But how about some pics from the pyramids to wrap this up!

"Back (From) The U.S.S.R"

Flew in from Miami Beach, BOAC
Didn't get to bed last night
On the way the paper bag was on my knee
Man, I had a dreadful flight

Even after pulling off the miracle that was obtaining a Russian visa on a day's notice I still wasn't confident that I'd actually get into the country.  It was with trepidation that I caught the 3:05 a.m. flight on Alitalia from Casa to Roma en route to Moscow.  Unlike the lads from Liverpool, my flight to the heart of the former Soviet Union was excellent.  I've flown Alitalia a few times now and I'm a huge fan.  Every part of the experience every time has been wonderful.  Commercial over.  I approached Customs at Moscow - Sheremetyevo International Airport...and glided right through!

I'm back in the USSR
You don't know how lucky you are, boy
Back in the USSR

For my next trick, I had to make my way to the Mercure Hotel - Moscow.  They were supposed to have a shuttle waiting for me, but, nyet.  A young guy at the airport info desk guided me to a bus and explained how I was to get to the Metro from there to the stop nearest my hotel.  The lack of English-language signage was tough, but deciphering Cyrillic wasn't as daunting as I expected.  Cost less than $2 to get from the airport to the hotel - must be a record!

Speaking of the Moscow Metro, I knew it was famed for its artwork, but I could not have possibly been prepared for what I saw!  Here is a random photo - every station is different, but all were as remarkable...



I swear this is representative of the entire system! If you're from the Philly area like I am, think of SEPTA, but the exact opposite...

Been away so long I hardly knew the place
Gee, it's good to be back home
Leave it till tomorrow to unpack my case
Honey, disconnect the phone

As a kid who grew up in the 80s, the term "Evil Empire" is not a punchline; Americans lived with the very real concern that the Soviet behemoth which wanted to enslave the world under Communism might just nuke the world into oblivion on a moment's notice.  Never in my wildest imagination did I ever believe that I would literally ever set foot anywhere even near Russia.  This made standing at Red Square one of the most surreal experiences of my life.

 St. Basil's Cathedral

 Lenin's Mausoleum - closed for renovation :(

 The Kremlin Wall

Then, it was time to go inside!

 Entering the Kremlin

 Inside the Kremlin!

 A photo taken of Moscow from within the Kremlin walls

Back outside...

 The Communist Party protests on Defender of the Fatherland Day

The former KGB headquarters at the end of the street

Moscow dates to to the 1st millennium, and has a lot more history going on than just from the days of the U.S.S.R., but if you want to have your socks knocked off, you must go to Saint Petersburg...

The "Venice of the North", Saint Petersburg was founded by Peter the Great in 1703.  Called Petrograd during WWI, then Leningrad as it played little brother to Moscow during the Soviet era.
It. Is. Gorgeous.  Let's play a game - it's called "Which photo is of the entrance to the world top-5 Hermitage Museum and which is of the 5-star Taleon Imperial Hotel just around the corner where I stayed for less than $100 per night?"  (Thank you, U.S. dollar and Russian ruble :)



     

You probably guessed they are, respectively, the Taleon and the Hermitage, but still...
Every time I walked through the lobby I did so in the hope that nobody would notice me..because I did not belong there!  It was amazing.  Just go to their website.

Anyway, the Hermitage Museum / Winter Palace at Palace Square and Peter & Paul Fortress were tops on my list of places to go.  I'm going to borrow some aerial photos:

The Hermitage is hard by the Neva River, the Alexander Column is in the center of Palace Square

The arch opposite leads through to Nevsky Prospect, the main road in St. Pete.

Peter & Paul Fortress

There are 3 churches that are highlights of a Saint Petersburg tour:

 Saint Isaac's Cathedral,

the third highest cupola cathedral in the world

The Cathedral of Our Lady of Kazan 

Church of the Saviour on Spilled Blood,

where Tsar Alexander II was assassinated in 1881

Well the Ukraine girls really knock me out
They leave the West behind
And Moscow girls make me sing and shout
That Georgia's always on m-m-my mind

I could go on and on about the sights of Saint Pete.  Visiting Russia was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.  I can't wait until what is on tap for spring break ;)

Oh, show me round the snow-peaked mountains way down south
Take me to you daddy's farm
Let me hear you balalaikas ringing out
Come and keep your comrade warm

To Russia With Love, Or Somehow?

We finally make the meet at a downtown cafe in the evening shadow of the ancient medina.  "Tarid" (okay, that is his actual name) is, to put it charitably, a very shiny-suited, shifty-looking sort.  This is the guy who is going to pave my path to Russia?  What a mess...

Since I hold a U.S. passport, if I want to travel to certain countries, I need to obtain a visa.  The procedures differ from country to country.  Russia ain't easy, especially if you applying from a foreign country.  Like Morocco.  Like me.

The first thing on the list of hoops to jump is to get in contact with an approved travel agency in-country to get a travel voucher.  Why?  No good reason, other than to extract money from a guy who just had to visit the heart of the former Soviet Union.  Not speaking French fluently really makes life difficult sometimes, like when I have to call a local business on the phone.  Making gestures doesn't help much in these situations.  A trusted, intelligent multilingual student does. Arrangements are made...

Back to the cafe - Tarid sits down, flashes his nicotine-stained (shark) teeth and I know this is going to cost me, but good.  If you have any good sense, you make sure you start the process of getting a visa months in advance of when you plan to go, not a couple of weeks prior, and most certainly before you do anything stupid like booking non-refundable flights and hotel rooms.  Um, not that I would ever do that.  (Actually, I did, which is a whole other story).

I give this perfect stranger a copy of my passport, and 200 bucks ($160 for the visa, plus the agency gets its cut), and pray that I will see this joker (who tries to put the squeeze on me for more!) next week with the the voucher.  I am under serious time constraints, but this guy, a perfect stranger, says he can get the job done.  I've already laid out a lot of dough, so I figure I'm in for a dime, in for a dollar, right?  The cherry on the sundae - he walks away leaving behind the bill for his coffee.

Fast forward, I actually get the voucher (and revenge for last week's bill), but next I have to take the paperwork to the Russian consulate in Casa, which I do on a Thursday.  My flight is Saturday.  Let's just say that the turnaround time, (assuming you get approved) is usually m-u-c-h longer.  I look at the guy behind the glass, make my plea (perhaps tell a fib or three).  I need this next day.  The young man is incredulous, but polite, and says he has to take it to the Consul General.  He is gone for quite a while, which I figure is in my favor.  He returns...and says he can do it, for a price.  I prefer to not type the number, it hurts too much.  But I pick it up the next day.  Russia is going to happen!

Down Under Diary - Pt 5

When you think of sports in Australia, what do you think of, if anything?  (Yes, snarky Jack is in the house!)  Now, I conferred with my authoritative (?) source "Bitter" Shawn for background information.  According to him, the NRL (like the rugby version of NFL) is the most popular sport in the country.  There is also Australian Rules Football, popular mainly in the Victoria region of the country.  Then, there is rugby union, often referred to as "ping pong".  Whatever.

Cricket.  The country is crazy for it.  Use the word "crazy" in whatever context you wish.  There are 3 versions of the game.  There is the traditional 5-day "Test" version, a much more popular 1-day version, and now, 20/20!!  20/20 is a made-for-the-MTV-generation.  In short, in baseball terms, each team gets 120 pitches to score as many runs as possible.  Shawn and I went the historic Sydney Cricket Grounds.  Cricket has been played at the site since 1848.  The oldest still-standing structure dates to 1886 (at first the members' pavilion, now for the ladies).  The current members' pavilion dates to 1883.  The two stands combined might hold a couple thousand people, at the very most.  The modified stadium holds about 44,000.  It is really cool (if you're a sports/history geek like me) to see the old kept within the new.

I bought a general admission ticket to see the undefeated Sydney Sixers host the defending champion Perth Scorchers.  Given my fashion sense, it is a bit surprising to some that I did not buy Sixers gear, predominantly fluorescent pink (they say magenta - I disagree).  I did, though, place a legal sports bet on-site.  YES!  5 Australian dollars straight up on the home team!  After the opposition did their thing and put up a very unimpressive score, Shawn informed me that my bet was a cinch.  The Sixers did their very best to imitate their Philadelphia NBA brethren.  Seriously.  They put up a score that had Shawn earnestly looking up historic low totals for 20/20 matches.  If you know anything about this version, Sydney was bowled out in 17 overs, scoring 99 runs.  Really?!

I had the opportunity to teach some American football to my Aussie "nephew" Kaylan and his younger cousin Layla.  This was a much more satisfying sports experience.  We also enjoyed some quality time outdoors, including to the Royal Botanic Gardens down by the harbour (there's that pesky "u" again!)

My trek home begins later this afternoon.  An all-photos, all-the-time diary entry will be coming in the near future.  Hoops snakes, drop-bears and kangawallafoxes, oh my!  G'day!!!

Down Under Diary - Pt 4

At long last, it was time to go into the city for the day - Shawn and Jack took the train into the Sydney Harbour area (note the pretentious use of the "u" in harbor!  I thought it fit the occasion, being in Australia and all that!)  The harbor (forget the "u"!) is an active, important part of life in Sydney.  The historic area surrounding it is very well-preserved, and the bars and restaurants are awfully cool.  It is very touristy, but not cheesy, and not as expensive as would be expected for such an otherwise very expensive city.  Lots of fun to wander around.
I did not pay to have my photo taken of an Aboriginal fellow playing and dancing to a didgeridoo.  I did pay to climb a pylon at the famed Harbour Bridge.  It of course was across from the iconic Opera House.  If you're an Aussie, wait till I complete this thought!  I was pretty thoroughly unimpressed with the two sites during the day.  At night, when I cruised the harbor (a must-do) they looked amazing.
If you like Baltimore's Inner Harbor (wish Philly would take notes!), you'll love Sydney Harbor...

Down Under Diary - Pt 3

2014 is the third year in a row that I spent Christmas outside of the U.S. (in different countries, even: Italy, Austria/Czech Republic, Australia).  I met up with some colleagues on Christmas night in Rome 2 years ago, but this year was very special as I was in Oz with close friends.  Mom surprised me with a gift sent to (Bitter) Shawn's home, where I enjoyed the company of his (better) half, Arwen, and their their 2 lovely children.  The Alabama swag from Stateside was delivered with absolutely no time to spare.  We all spent the day at Arwen's sister's nearby home with a bunch of her relatives in town for the occasion.  We played French cricket (think "pepper" in baseball) and I (barely) defeated a (very cool) 89 year-old in ping-pong.  Adult beverages may have been consumed.

Now, when you think of Australia, what do you think of, in terms of climate and geography?  Sun - that would be my first thought, whether it be tempered by cool breezes at the ocean, or blazing in the Outback.  What would not have crossed my mind was rainforest.  The land of Oz actually has a good bit of it.  Shawn and I drove (on what I would call the wrong side of the road) to the Illawarra escarpment subtropical rainforest, where we bought tix to the Illawarra Fly Tree Top Walk.  It was as cool as it sounds.  At one point as I walked across the sky, I was 710 meters above sea level, looking at cliffs that eventually rolled down to the ocean in the distance.

The day after Christmas is called Boxing Day.  So, of course, we went to a baseball game!  What else do you do in December?  The Sydney Blue Sox play in the fledgling Australian Baseball League, and on Boxing Day they hosted the Brisbane Bandits at what was the baseball venue for the 2000 Olympic games.  We root, root, rooted for the home team, but they didn't win, and it was a shame.  I got to take some swings in the batting cage (I fared better than in cricket).  Syd, the mascot, may have regretted being friendly to me...