Homesick.

I left Brooklyn on January 21st and on that day I didn't cry (despite all the tears streaming down my Auntie Debbie's face as I waited on the line for security). I'm a pretty tough cookie when it comes to saying goodbye's and unless there is an EXTREME circumstance I can do a pretty good job of holding myself together emotionally. Since I've been in Cyprus I've held my self together very well. I Skype my family all the time, Mommy and Daddy call/text me every day, I tweet my sister and my cousins religiously, and Facebook does a great job of maintaining all other relationships. So to be honest, I'm not homesick for lack of contact with the ones I love; I'm homesick due to lack of resources.

Top 5 Reasons Tracy is Ready to Travel BACK to Brooklyn
5. There is no TV in my apartment.
You can send me a link to every possible on-line TV episode streaming site but it won't make a difference. You know why? BECAUSE TV'S DON'T BUFFER!

4. There is no train down the block from my apartment.
To be fair, there are no trains in Cyprus because the island is too small but the bus system is so unreliable that I am forced to complain. I don't live in the center of the city. I live 90minutes away on foot, 30min away on the bus and 15minutes away by car. Taxi's are too expensive here and considering I like to go downtown on my own, it's ridiculous that I would have to spend $30 (22 euro) round trip. The bus is only $5 (2.60 euro) round trip but the last bus to Engomi leaves downtown at 5:30. That means if I want to have dinner some place cute I have to factor in the price of a taxi after my already over priced meal or walk off all my calories and be hungry by the time I get to my apartment.

3. Kori & Kayden (They are a resource of unconditional love)
The pictures say it all!

2.Turkey Bacon.
Everything in Cyprus is made with pork. Seriously. There are bacon bits in the french fries. The chicken wings are fried in bacon grease. I went to the supermarket and asked for turkey bacon and the butcher handed me a turkey leg. I looked for turkey bacon on my own and I found bacon made from every part of the pig possible (Back, Side, Thigh etc.). I have become so depressed that I have stopped purchasing eggs. What is a scrambled egg without the taste of turkey bacon to accompany it? My mom told me to order some offline but I'm not sure how that works and more than likely it won't get here until my last week. Blah. I wonder if absence can make the taste buds grow fonder...

And the number one reason Tracy is Ready to hop on a flight back to JFK?!

1. I NEED TO GET MY HAIR DONE BY A REAL STYLIST.
My first week in Cyprus I was in I was in Carrefour (the supermarket) on my way up the inclinator and I looked over my shoulder and had to do a double take. Seriously, I thought I had seen a mirage. It was a black woman with a Doobie! Living in Cyprus you realize that it’s not uncommon to see other brown faces on a daily basis but they’re usually African and most times I am uninspired by their hair maintenance. I knew by the bump of this woman’s ends that not only did she know where to get her hair done but she was American too. Not wanting to be a creep and run up on her, I stayed in the toiletry section nearby the inclinator in hopes that she would make her way upstairs so I could find out where to tame my mane at.

By God and all his good graces she came up and as soon as she got close I popped out of the aisle and asked her if she spoke English. I mean I felt like I knew she was from the states but I had to be sure. Considering how diverse Cyprus is, she could have been French or something! But as I suspected she was indeed an American and as soon as she heard my English she hit me with the “Gurl, where you from?” I introduced myself, told her I was here studying from the states and explained that I noticed that she had nicely maintained Black hair and I was hoping she could recommend a salon. She told me her name was Joyce, she’s from Philly and she was in Cyprus with her fiancée who played for one of the Cypriot basketball teams and their two daughters. Though she confessed to having done her own hair she recommended a hair salon to me and gave me her contact information so that we could stay in touch as well.

We were both so excited to have a Black female friend we didn’t know what to do with ourselves! Seriously, we spent like 30mins choppin it up in the supermarket. Unfortunately, due to drama with the team, Joyce and her family relocated to Israel two days after we met. But this is about my hair, not about my five-minute friendship.

Since Joyce's reccomendation, I have visited Nike's salon about four times. Her shop is all the way downtown (15euros away in a cab if the traffic is bad) and I just figured out how to take the bus there. I take it back, I have not mastered taking the bus to Nike's because the last time I went what was supposed to be a 1hr journey took 3hrs because I rode the wrong bus for 7minutes and had to walk back to the bus depot. That mishap was the straw that broke the camel's back for this semester. Anyways, my hair comes out alright when Nike does it. I've allowed her to perm it once and she set's it on tight rollers so it comes out extremely curly. I prefer having looser curls that I can pin-curl to make tighter if I feel like it but she doesn't own big rollers. Nike is affordable (She permed me for 21 euro and a roller set is 14euro) but her lack of customer service turned me off.

I planned to continue allowing her to do my hair but the day it took me three hours to get there she had the nerve to tell me she was too busy to wash my hair out properly and left my hair dirty so she could sew a weave into a Cypriot girl's head. Perfect way to lose a customer! The only way I'll ever go back before I leave is to see if she has some plantain to fry (Yes, I've bought plantain's from her salon before). The salon serves as a supermarket and a beauty supply, as well. Literally, you can buy bleaching cream, Guinness Stout beer, brown sugar and weave all while getting a deep conditioner.



I got my hair done at Toni & Guy out here in between one of my Nike visits but that wasn't magical either. They blow dried my hair and then flat ironed it bone straight. It looked nice but they don't use any black hair products so my hair felt and looked dry. For 25 euro I need my hair to feel LUXURIOUS when I leave. Not have me scurrying home to rub some grease into my scalp.

Lately, I've been doing my own hair. I'm typing this entry with fresh chignons on my dome. Last week I flat ironed it and wore it pin curled until I demolished it at the gym. I need a trim BADLY. I'm shedding like crazy and I know that when I get home I have no choice but to chop off what little bit of hair remains on my head. I'm okay with that though, short hair is in and it'll be easy to maintain because I live in the middle of my two favorite places to get my hair done. Thirty more days and I will have the hands of a real stylist in my head, luxuriating my tresses and styling them to perfection.

I Can't Wait.

Mind The Gap!

As if the slogan for the tubes (trains) in London isn't hilarious enough already, I saw these in between Minding The Gaps on my trip. The ads are a part of Mooncups campaign to promote an alternative to tampons. Personally, I'm not for it but the ads do a great job of getting your attention and give tube riders something to giggle about along their journeys.

More information on Mooncups
Want to share YOUR favorite nickname? ---> Love Your Vagina

My Favorite!

Visual Vacation

200 sheckles = $53.59

The walk to the beach

Me and my 35 sheckle Watermelon Most of the Group
Perfect Day to Sail

Jenny, Me and Grape Seed

Me NOT DancingA segment of The BattleMy broken camera "/

Our Beach Buddies

They're silly.The Roomies
Big Ol' Swiss Driving License

The Desert

Fact: I will go to the Highest Point. Yes, Mt. Everest.

Breakfast: Fish Sticks Happy Meal

Sea Monsters.

Floating in the Dead Sea
Church of Mary Magdalene
The View from Mount Olives

Mary's Tomb (We drove past)Coolest Highway Sign. Right after the Brooklyn signs.
Traditional Architecture
The Church of Nativity

The Cross of Jerusalem
4th Century Mosaics
The Grotto [In the Greek Orthodox Church]
The Manger
Where Mary Gave Birth
The Call Of David [In the Catholic Church]
St. George Slaying the Dragon
The Drumline
Last Night on the Beach
Shout Out to Maddy's Camera for Most of this Entry

FIN.

Israel.

Before I left for Cyprus, I made a mental list of all the places I would like to visit before I get back to the states. Spain, Paris, London, Italy, Dubai, Amsterdam, Egypt. . . I've made it to all but two of those countries and this weekend I took my last major trip prior to my return. Where to you ask? Israel. Never in a million years would I have thought I would be going to Israel. Not that Israel isn't an important place to visit, it just never crossed my mind to go there. If you asked me last year if I wanted to go to Fiji or Israel I probably would have went with Fiji. However, I am SO thankful that I was able to visit Holy Land during my world tour. A group of twelve students in my program were going and at the last minute I decided to join them. By last minute, I mean buying my ticket on Wednesday afternoon for a Thursday night flight.

Hell bent on not letting another Cypriot taxi driver over charge me for a ride, I took a service taxi to the airport at 5:45pm. My flight wasn't leaving until 10:30 that night but I paid 11euro instead of the 50 it usually costs to get to Larnaca. I think it was worth it. I brought my laptop along to write a paper but I ended up blogging in the corner of Gate 48 listening to The Reminder, while waiting for my flight to Tel Aviv.


(If you read this entry and neglect to download the mixtape you have officially played yourself. Mazon is the truth and I’m not just saying that cuz I know him. Check his blog for a free download of The Reminder )


While waiting to board I called Uncle David to say hi and he called TiTi Rosie so I could say hi to her too. Then I thought he called Grandma’s house because I told him I was trying to get in touch with them yesterday but no one was answering the phone. Kori and Kayden said their Hi’s and Miss You’s and then I spoke to Grandma Enid who was being extremely generous. Then I spoke to Grandma Rhoda, who was in the backyard getting a tan, she is just the cutest. Then Jennifer the helper who wished me safe travels and then Grandma Enid said a beautiful prayer for me. I swear in a past life she was a prayer warrior. I honestly believe that if she prayed hard enough she could make the sun come out at 3am and shine till sunset the next day. I thanked Uncle David when Grandma hung up but he told me he didn’t call her. Apparently when he clicked over it was because Grandma’s house called him but it was Kori and Kayden on the line and he just connected it for jokes. I guess they knew I needed to talk to the Grannies? Random but great.

There was an old man sitting not to far from me and apparently he was eavesdropping on my conversation because as soon as I hung up the phone he asked, “How come you speak English so well?” Lol… I told him because I’m not from Cyprus. He asked where I was from and when I told him New York he looked so disappointed. “Oh. I thought you were something more exotic. You have a very Ethiopian face.” I felt SO corny! Remind me to say Jamaican or Haitian from now on. I explained to him that my Mom is Jamaican and my Dad is Haitian but for that split second where he thought I lacked exotic culture of the world I felt dry.

Aside from that, we had about an hour of great conversation. His name is Shelby Tucker and he’s originally from Mississippi. Presently he lives in the United Kingdom and he moved after the U.S. invaded Iraq because he refused to pay taxes to fund unnecessary warfare. A Yale dropout but an Oxford graduate and the author of the U.K.’s best selling book in 2001 “Amongst Insurgents: A Walk in Burma.” He was actually walking around with a copy of the paper back version and he showed me pictures of him and his wife after they got married in Zanzibar. I asked him if he was re-reading it and he said he actually carries it around as a second passport, “Just in case people don’t believe I am who I say I am.” A little cocky, don’tcha think?

As the conversation progressed he asked where I was headed and when I told him Israel he was very disappointed. "Why would you go there? Those people are a bunch of animals." Appalled by the Israeli treatment of Palestinians and their governments use of U.S. dollars to fund their war efforts, Shelby did not feel the slightest bit of remorse throwing shade on the trip that I was so very excited about. He was especially eager to tell me about his friend who majored in International Studies at Harvard that moved to Israel and fell into the same pattern of discrimination of the natives.

Apparently, Shelby went to visit the man at his new home in Israel and noticed that there was a huge vicious dog at the side of the house in a lemon grove. The dog belonged to his friend but it was so ferocious that they had to drive to the other side of the grove to avoid being attacked. When Shelby asked his friend why he had such an angry dog, his friend immediately got frustrated and replied "Because the damn Palestinians keep stealing my lemons!" I'm sure I would be frustrated if my neighbors were stealing my lemons but from the way Shelby told the story I think his friend was more upset that his Palestinian neighbors were stealing the lemons. I cut the conversation short after that because I wanted to get into the gate but not before exchanging information with Shelby. He actually invited me to a VIP book signing for a book he's releasing in June called The Last Banana so I definitely will be seeing him again.

I still had another hour or so before my flight left and I spoke to my Dad for a bit. He asked for my help with a novel he'd like to write. I'm not gonna put the details on the web because it hasn't been copyrighted as yet and he would have a fit if someone else writes it first. I was actually kind of flattered that he asked for my help because I don't think I'm that great of a writer. Then again parents always toot they're kids horns so maybe that just an undue toot? ::kanyeshrug:: I'm more than willing to contribute if he decides to go through with it. Anywho, the flight left late, which wasn't much of a surprise because I flew Cyprus Airways. Since I've been out here I have discovered that CP time actually means Cypriot People time. They are ALWAYS late!

When I got into Tel Aviv airport, the line at customs was ridiculous. There must have been 20 people at each of the 15 counters. Not to mention, there were a group of 100 or more rowdy teenagers on their birthright Israel trip with their Hebrew school. They served as good entertainment with their singing and dancing as I was waiting on the line. Sadly, they got too out of order and security escorted them to an express check-out line to prevent them from disturbing everyone else waiting. I think it's really awesome that the Jewish community provides free trips for their youths to visit Israel. Hopefully by the time I have kids there will be an African birthright trip that I can send 'em on. If not, I'll have to create one when I get wealthy.

When I finally made it off the line and collected my baggage, I made a mad dash to the bathroom to pee. Typically I wouldn't share that type of information, however, I'm making an exception because there was something interesting inside the stall. Now Ladies, how many times have you had to hold on to the walls of a bathroom stall to keep yourself from falling as you do a ninja kick to flush the toilet? Too many times to count right? Well in Tel Aviv airport the flusher is a pedal on the floor! All ya have to do is step on it and voila! Empty toilet! The rest of the world needs to get the pedals installed ASAP. Imagine how many germs we can eliminate contacting if we can minimize the amount of people having to touch the handle after wiping? A-freakin-lot, man!

Fast forward a bit, there were three other people from my program on the flight so we all caught a cab together for 160 sheckles (that's the name of the Israeli currency). Kam and I were staying together at the MoMo's hostel on Ben Yehuda Street, Grant was staying at a hostel not too far from ours and Kori was staying with her cousin who moved to Israel recently. When Kam and I got inside, Jenny and Maddy were in the room getting ready to head to bed. Kam was heading out to link up with the other people in the program but I decided to call it a night to rest up for Friday. Little did I know I wasn't going to get ANY sleep at all.

I dozed off around 2am and at 3:45 am someone burst into the room and turned the lights on. "Ello! Ello! Wake up! Why you lot sleeping?" Initially I thought Kam stumbled in drunk but when I heard a British accent screaming I sat up in bewilderment. This drunken Englishmen named Alfie mistakenly walked into our room thinking it was his and tried to wake us up and drag us down to the bar with him. The door was unlocked because we requested a dorm style room which means it only locks from the inside. No one wanted to wake up to let Kam in when he got back from his night out so he left it unlocked. Unfortunately for us, Alfie came before Kam did. It took ten minutes to explain to him that he was in room 23 and his proper room was one floor below. Eventually he left, but not before throwing a slipper at Jenny's head and threatening to put his manly parts on her forehead. Remind me to do an impression of his lewd threats when I get home. Ha-larry-us.


Believing that was the last outtake of the night, I allowed myself to drift back to sleep but no sooner than I hit REM sleep did someone start rattling with the door. I looked across the room and saw that Kam was on the top bunk knocked out and assumed that Alfie had come back to fulfill his promise to Jenny. The plan was to stay quiet until he left but he knocked for 15minutes straight. I leaned over the top bunk and whispered to Maddy to see if she was up. Like any normal human, she was and she was growing increasingly frustrated with each knock. After 20min she blurted out, "Alfie! GO TO YOUR ROOM!" and he replied by trying to explain that his name was John and 23 really was his room. Not interested in his lies, Maddy told him to go down to the front desk and get a key if 23 really was his room. He left and came back saying there was no one at the front desk but after the first incident we were not allowing anyone into our living quarters, especially not at 5:30 in the morning. The poor guy stood outside and knocked and scratched till 6:30am. We later found out from the lady at the front desk that it was a new room mate who was scheduled to be in our room and she told us if we wanted a door that locked we should have paid 15 more sheckles a night. Rude.

About 4 hours later, we all woke up and made our way to the beach. It was 10min walking from the hostel and we stopped at a grocery store along the way to get some snacks. The goal was to make Israel an extremely cheap vacay and that required spending as little money as possible on food. We bought a loaf of bread, peanut butter and honey and made it last for three days! I also bought 1/3 of a water melon which I ate all by myself. Super delicious and refreshing. The weather wasn't my ideal beach weather (It was in the mid-high 70's) but everyone else was going and I didn't want to be waking around Tel-Aviv by myself. We had a really good time. Spent most of the day tanning and walking up and down the coast. Everyone at the beach was playing table-less ping-pong which made it a little dangerous to stroll by the water but somehow we avoided getting hit.


In between naps and snacking, I got a massage from a creepy older man who didn't speak much English. He really only knew how to say "Your beautiful. I'm from Israel. I give massages. Let me give you one." He should learn how to say "I will feel you up," instead of "I give massages," because that's exactly what he did. He must have jiggled my butt for like 10minutes before I asked him to stop. I've had real massages before where the masseuse has massaged my derriere but this time around it just felt much to... sexual. It was gross. I figured my friends would opt to NOT allow him to touch them since they witnessed the harassment but they all got massages as well and we all shared the same sentiments afterward. Remind me not to get random massages on the beach ever again, thanks.

Near where we decided to lay out was a cafe with a live band playing the beast beach music ever. It didn't sound like traditional Israeli music at all and when they started playing No Woman No Cry I had to get up to investigate what was going on. It wasn't so much that they were playing No Woman No Cry, but the lead singer started singing in a Jamaican accent while speaking another language. That always trips me out. Ever seen the Japanese Passa Passa (Jamacain Dance Hall parties for those of you who don't know)? There will be Japanese DJ's screaming in Japanese in their best Jamaican accents. I'm going to attempt to speak Greek in my Jamaican accent and post a video at a later date. Through speaking with one of the audience members I discovered that the band was the Fernando Knopf band and lead singer is from Brazil. Though I can't remember the name of the man I spoke with, he was really friendly and invited me to his friends dance studio for Samba lessons this week. Unfortunately, I had to return to Cyprus but if i was still in Tel Aviv I would be Samba'ing it up right about now. I secretly wish the ash cloud had covered Israel so our flight could have gotten delayed a few days. Womp.

We left the beach around six and went back to the hostel to clean up before heading out again. Maddy, Jenny and I watched Kevin Hart's stand-up "I'm a Grown Little Man" and "Friday" on my lap-top and then ventured out to find some dinner. There was a restaurant on the corner of the block out hostel is on and the menu looked decent so we stopped there. I'm the type of person that hates stopping at the first place I see when I'm looking for food but for some reason that night I didn't mind and I'm really happy I decided to stay. We met a really nice young woman named Freweini (Translation Grape Seed) from Eritrea. She was raised in Sweden, did two years of college in New York and then moved to Israel to complete her degree in psychology. We talked to her for about an hour and she told us the sordid tale of Israel's disregard and disrespect of Ethiopian people. I'll give you a brief synopsis of what she told us. Apparently, thirty years ago 20,000 Ethiopians mograted to Israel. Believing themselves to be direct descendants of Queen Sheba and King Solomon, they were practicing Judaism and believed themselves entitled to live in Israel, like any other Jewish person. The Jews that were already living in Israel did not consider the Ethiopians to be real Jews and have not allowed them to fully integrate into society. Though she is not from Ethiopia, since she has been in Israel she has been treated like less of a person because people that she is Ethiopian. The saddest part of the story to me was when she told us that when the issue of race comes up in her classes she feels like she can't speak out because the students and the teachers both believe that Africans are inferior and as the only person of African descent in the classroom she feels alone. I told her she should come to Morgan, where students and teachers believe in the empowerment of all races but place special focus on the empowerment of African, African American and Caribbean students. She's studying psychology in hopes to get better insight into the minds of people who have suffered through oppression and discrimination but then turn around and treat other people just as terribly. She is baffled by how the Jews treat the Ethiopians so terribly as if they can't recall the horrible treatment their ancestors received in the Holocaust. We talked about many other issues but I'm too sleepy to get into that and I don't want to relay an inaccurate story.

Anyway, after all the great convo, Weini decided she liked us so much that she invited us to hang out with her and some friends when she got off of work. While Maddy and I were sitting outside of her job waiting for her to finish cleaning up, this man walked past and snarled at us and as he trudged up the block, he kept looking over his shoulder and making angry faces at us. After our conversation about Israeli's sentiments towards Ethiopians, we automatically assumed it was because we're black. It could have been anything but the timing of it all immediately caused us to jump to the race card.

We had a good time with Weini and her friends. I say friends loosely because she actually only knew one of the guys in the group. They had a dinner party earlier on in the evening and by the time we got there it had completely winded down but they were very happy to have us as guests. We hung out and watched TV and talked about everything under the sun. Despite having just ate dinner, I allowed one of the guys to make me a plate and I got to taste this delicious sweet potato pasta. Never would have thought to put the two together but it was super tasty. When I got back from getting my plate Weini was having an intense discussion about the origin of the word slavery with the guys and I thought it was her being intoxicated and passionate about her cause but Maddy told me later that the guy assumed she was in Sweden as a slave rather than a regular citizen. I'm really happy that I missed that statement because I would not have known how to reply reasonably to a statement like that. Weini's ability to keep her is really admirable because the way Maddy and Jenny made it seem, the man was really disrespectful. He had the nerve to say "I understand why your here, because you have blond hair and blue eyes and you can pass for a Jew," (referring to Jenny) "But what are the other three doing here?" How rude, as if people who can't pass for Jews have no reason to be in Israel.

After the dinner party, we went to two clubs on the party strip close to our hostel. The guys from the apartment came along and hung out with us for a bit on the dance floor. I was busy trying to defend myself from the overly aggressive African man who kept trying to drag me off to the bar. Sir, if you have to strong arm me to buy me a drink then maybe, just maybe, I'm not thirsty. While I was avoiding him, the other men were trying to challenge me to a full out Jabawockee, America's Best Dance Crew, battle. I don't know which part of my outfit screamed break dancer (maybe it was the big floral bow on my head?) but they just wouldn't let up! Of course Maddy and Jenny were trying to push me out there like "Go Tracy! Show 'em how it's done! You know you can beat him!" -___- When have they ever seen me stand on my head and spin around on just my hands? Jendy Parkington (that's Maddy and Jenny put together) left a little while before Weini and I did because they were tired. I was too but Weini wanted to keep dancing so I let her have her fun until someone spilled their drink on me and after that I was ready for the night to be over.

On the walk back to my hostel Weini was feeling a bit thuggish and decided to flip out on some Israeli girls who were looking at us funny. Personally, I'm forever oblivious to dirty looks. Ask anyone of my friends, they always catch the look for me and by the time they tell me it's too late to bother saying something "Excuse me, did you roll your eyes at me when you walked past a minute ago? I missed it but now that I'm aware, I'm upset." Yeah, no. Anyways, Weini and her liquid courage goes, "What the [expletive] are you looking at? Yeah YOU! What's the problem?!" The girls continued to stare but didn't bother replying. Weini was really riled up and she kept saying she wasn't going to let them treat her any kind of way and get away with being rude anymore. I can respect it! I just hope she's careful because she's in Israel by herself and I don't want her getting into any drama without real friends to back her up. The rest of the walk was pretty peaceful and Jenny was waiting up for me when I got home. She's such a mom but I appreciated it.

The next morning a group of us went out to breakfast at this sea side restaurant called Yonvata. I shared an Israeli Breakfast with Jenny and it was really yummy. I'm sad I didn't get any pictures of the breakfast but my camera is broken [AGAIN] (I dropped it in the sand on Friday) and it's frustrating to constantly ask someone to take pictures of things that only seem photogenic to me. Blah. Anyways, I googled Israeli breakfast and the image that came up looks just like what I had on Friday.

After that we went down to the beach and met up with the rest of the group to hang out. I brought my sheet from the hostel to avoid paying 12 sheckles for a lounge chair. Unnecessary expenses at the beach are annoying. I napped and splashed on an off for about three hours, maybe even some more. Beach naps are the best. Between the breeze, the sunshine and the crashing of the waves, the naps are the most relaxing slumber known to man.

The water was surprisingly warm and the sand allowed you to walk out fairly far. I only allowed the water to get up to my chest because I didn't want my hair to get wet. In all my packing I forgot every single hair product I own and I lacked the proper tools to mend sea drenched tresses. Maddy and I went in together at one point but she punked out after five minutes because she saw some jelly fish. I wasn't scared of them because they didn't have tentacles, and jelly fish with no tentacles just doesn't seem that threatening to me. I did get stung on my finger but it only hurt for like 30 seconds so I wasn't phased. While we were drying off a group of guys approached us and started asking us where we were from. The most excited one spent a summer in Los Angeles in Bel-Air. We asked him if ever watched the Fresh Prince but he had no clue what we were talking about. We hung out with them for a while. They brought their hookah over and a couple of the kids indulged in the smoking of the hashish. It's flavored tobacco, nothing illegal. Don't worry. I can only remember one person's name and that's Ben. He was in love with every female in the group at some point during our interaction. He tried to kiss Maddy, proposed to Whitney and then told me he would do anything to have my love. I feel like American men don't do that to foreign women with limited knowledge of the English language when they visit our country but I could be wrong.

Aside from the romance, we also talked about his life as a soldier. Ben was completely unashamed to tell me how much he enjoys killing Arabs (the term they used but it was in reference to Palestinians)while on the job. His friend, a police officer, shared the same excitement but he spoke less English so he used more body movements to convey his story. Specifically, hacking movements. I told them I don't condone violence and I don't think they should be proud of themselves for taking the lives of others because the government told them it's the right thing to do. Ben argued that he only does it to defend himself and his country because if they don't kill them (the Arabs) then they will kill the Israelis. Their sense of nationalism is beautiful, I just wish the driving force behind their passion wasn't a thirst for Arab blood.

We left the beach around six and went grabbed some Falaffels before heading back to the hostel. Falaffels are pitas with a deep fried glob of vegetables in the middle and fresh lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers on inside as well. It tasted ALRIGHT. I'm not a fan of fried vegetables but I like to try the dishes that are most commonly associated with the nation I'm visiting. On our way up to our room, we saw Alfie in the lobby and we gave him a friendly earful about harassing us on Friday night. He apologized profusely and claimed not to remember any of it which I believe.

The hostel gave us two new room mates [if you plan to stay in a hostel and rooming with random people freaks you out, request a private room and luckily they ended up being really nice. They were brothers originally from Sweden who were stranded in Israel because of the ash cloud looming over Europe after the volcano erupted in Iceland. We convinced them to come out to dinner with us later and after we got dressed, Maddy, Jenny, Dan, Ben, Whitney and I walked a mile to the other party district for dinner. We went to a restaurant called the Brewery and had big juicy American inspired burgers. I tried to get a chicken burger but of course the kitchen ran out of chicken just before I placed my order. The dinner table convo was pretty funny. Dan showed us his Swedish drivers license which looks more like a birth certificate and the iPhone/iTouch users downloaded shotgun and light saber apps to virtually challenge each other in between drinks. I was more interested in the Cavs vs. Bulls game that was being shown on a giant screen by the bar. Can't wait to get home and watch the play-offs! After dinner the group went searching for a club but I was too cold and cranky to walk aimlessly. I ended up walking back to the hostel by myself which wasn't the best idea considering I'm a young woman and it was after midnight but I didn't want to be a party pooper. Jenny and Maddy got home not too long after me, and told me that they paid 30 sheckles to get an underground rave with a very zombie-like party crowd. I'm glad I decided to head home on my own because I hate wasting money on foolishness.

The next morning we were on the go by 7:45am. It was our last day and after spending the last two days on the beach, we had a lot of sight-seeing to cram into a small time-slot. The plan was to catch a 7 sheckle taxi at 8:30am from Tel-Aviv to Jerusalem and then head to the Dead Sea. We got to the bus junction at 8:15am which would have been fine if we knew exactly where to catch the bus but we had no clue. In addition to not having a clue, none of us spoke Hebrew so were limited in who we could ask for directions as well as how much of their response we could understand.

Needless to say, we ended up having to take a taxi to the Dead Sea for $50 per person because we couldn't find the bus and we didn't want to waste any more time trying to find the imaginary 7 sheckle shuttle. The taxi driver was nice and he told us different historical stories as we rode through the desert. The Israeli desert is hillier than the desert in Egypt and the roads are way more windy. The taxi driver pointed out memorials of brave motorcyclists who crashed while racing on the highway. The coolest one was of a bike that had crashed that had been reconstructed, bronzed and mounted. Definitely lasts longer than a wreath and a candle.

The ride in took about 2 hours and we made it to the Dead Sea around 11:15am. The taxi driver dropped us off at a beach side mall and we went inside to explore for a bit. The mall sold all sorts of Dead Sea spa products and other touristy things. A student in GLS who visited Israel earlier in the semester advised us not to invest in the mud being sold in the stores because the mud in the Sea worked just as well. The entire group was on a budget and we all decided that free mud would be the better choice. Maddy and I split up from the group to get some breakfast and we went to a near-by McDonalds. I ordered a fish stick happy-meal and those fish sticks were the best I've ever had in my life. Seriously. As an added bonus, I got a Madagascar Penguin Happy Meal Toy! Don't judge me for being overly excited about my peng-ga-ling toy. Maddy and I tried to snag a golf-cart ride back to the beach we're our group was but the driver dropped us at least 400ft in the opposite of direction of where we needed to go. That mission was futile.

After trudging it back to the beach, we were looking for everyone but all we could see was there stuff laying out on the sand. We heard someone call our names but the direction it came from there were a group of dark-skinned people and everyone we were with is either Caucasian or Asian. While we were eating, the group figured out that there was no mud at the particular beach we were at, bought Sea Mud at the mall and rubbed it on them selves from head to toe. They looked like statues. I grabbed two packs of mud for myself and Maddy and we hurriedly rubbed it on to get down with the statue movement. Sea Mud is really good for the skin, that's why we were so adamant about getting some on. When you visit the Dead Sea there are two things you MUST do: Apply sea mud to your epidermis and float.

The Floating part isn't optional because no matter how much you weigh or how awful you are at relaxing your body, the excessive amount of salt in the water will cause you to float. I can't float on my back so I was super excited to be able to do it effortlessly when I got in the water. Not to discourage anyone from going into the water but please keep these things in mind when you jump in excitedly to float:

*Beware of the intense burning sensations you will experience while your floating. I'm not going to say where will burn but it will be extremely uncomfortable for a few minutes and then you should be over it.
*DO NOT PEE! I didn't pee but I had a friend who did and she was not a happy camper.
*Do not get the water in your mouth. I heard it tastes like batter acid. I'm a bit concerned that the person who told me that knows what battery acid tastes like but please take their word for it and refrain from taking a swig.

We left at 2:30 and caught a shuttle to Jerusalem which was an hour and a half away. The driver tried to swindle us with the price but I told Whitney to give him 400 sheckles and tell him that's all the money we had. It worked. We stopped at a mall to grab some lunch and clean up. The females had to put on long bottoms and shirts with sleeves because the dress code in Jerusalem is very strict. After a little bit of aimless walking we caught the Number 1 bus to the Old City and it got us down there within a half an hour. We had no idea where we were when we got off the bus so we followed the crowd up a hill and through a big gate. There was an intense security check in ahead which led us to believe there was something juicy on the other side of the wall and sure enough there was! We were standing at the West Wall, the last remaining wall of King Solomon's Temple. People who practice Judaism believe the wall to be spiritually significant and there were many people praying and reading their Bible's.

We stayed for about ten minutes and then walked back to the main road to figure out where to go next. Sun down was approaching quickly and we had barely seen anything. I guess it was obvious that we were lost because a cab driver walked over to us and offered to take us up to the Mount of Olives to see where Jesus walked for a few sheckles. We hadn't done any research and we didn't know what we should be trying to see so we decided to go with the cabby in hopes that he wouldn't lead us astray. When we got in the cab he asked us what we had seen so far and when we said nothing he told us we had to see Bethlehem before leaving Israel. Riding with Sammy was probably the best investment I made while I was in Israel. Not only did he serve as an impromptu tour guide in Jerusalem, he found us a real tour guide when we got to Bethlehem and took us back to Tel Aviv all for $60 per person. In Jerusalem we saw the tomb of Mary (Yes, THE Mary), the Church or Mary Magdalene, the Garden Gethsemane and at the top of Mount Olives we got to take pics with a gorgeous view of the city as our backdrop.

It took us 30min to drive form Jerusalem to Bethlehem and Sammy explained that in the past it only took 15 min. The government had recently put a wall up to keep intruders out of old city and it re-directed traffic, forcing people to take the long route. While we were driving I noticed that the signs in Bethlehem were first in Arabic, then Hebrew and then English. I'm aware there are Christians that speak Arabic in the world but this prompted me to I asked Sammy if the community was predominantly Christian and he told me that the community is in fact predominantly Muslim. I googled the stats and in 2006 only 12% of the 600,000 people in Bethlehem were Christian. How strange that a city held sacred in the hearts of Christian's all over the world barely has any Christian inhabitants!

Sammy's tour guide friend took us to the Church of Nativity. The church was created in the 4th century by emperor Constantine's mother and it is the oldest church in Israel. It's divided into three sections; Greek Orthodox, Catholic and Armenian. To enter the church you have to go through a very tiny door and it is impossible to go through without bending over. It is appropriately named The Door of Humility because you bow down to enter the house of the Lord. Inside, there is a gaping rectangular sized hole in the floor with a mosaic inside from the 4th century when the Church was originally constructed. When the Persian's destroyed Bethlehem in 614 they left the church of Nativity untouched because in a painting of the Nativity story the Wise Men were dressed in Persian clothing. There was a long line of people waiting tn by a set of stairs in the Greek section of the church and the tour guide explained that they were tourists waiting to see the birth place of Jesus.

If you could have only seen how wide my eyes opened up when he said that. Like, I had obviously been clueless about the entire trip for the most part but I never anticipated stumbling into the manger. I didn't even know the manger was a place that could be visited. The tour guide spoke to an officer who allowed us to skip the line and go down into the Grotto and I touched the star placed in the spot where Jesus was allegedly born. The star has 14 points to represent all the generations of Abraham I paused for a minute said a prayer thanking the Lord for granting me the opportunity to be n such a Holy place and asking him to bless my friends and family and grant us all health, wellness and prosperity. In more words than that of course. Afterward we continued our tour of the church but I was so blown away that I missed the rest of the historical explanations. Being in the Grotto was really over whelming and it almost brought me to tears. I can't put it into words but I think every spiritual person should visit at some point in their life.

The tour guide took us back to meet Sammy at a souvenir shop. I got some goodies and made friends with one of the men who worked there, named George. He's visiting Cyprus in May and I told him we can do dinner. In a very non-creepy way George was over zealously happy to welcome me to Bethlehem. He blessed me one thousand times and even made me a cup of tea. The owner of the shop is married to a Cypriot and he called her to come visit with us at the store. We must have spent an hour in their chumming it up with the staff. A group of boy scouts marched past the shop while we were inside. I heard the drum line and ran outside immediately (I live for drum lines.) I'm not sure why but I got all emotional when I saw them and started tearing up. Probably because I miss all my little boys (Manny, Elijah, Nasir, Kori, Kayden, Peyton, Dominick, Aidenn, Dillon, Bo and Olu . . . can't wait to get home and hug and squeeze all my lil pookies!). I tried to ask George why they were marching but his only explanation was because they are boy scouts. We thanked the staff for their hospitality and then continued our last leg of the trip to head back to Tel Aviv.

I'm gonna finish in a nut shell because there are already too many details in this entry.

We got back to Tel Aviv around 10:30pm and our room mates and some other people from the hostel were heading out to the beach to smoke hookah so we joined 'em until midnight. We would have stayed longer but our room mates new friends were awfully snooty and we didn't want to waste time with unfriendly people when we needed to be packing. We slept for about 2 hours and then caught a cab to the airport. Even though our flight was leaving at 7am we got there at 4 because Israeli security check out is ridiculous. After going through three different security check points, three different bag scanners and completely unpacking and repacking my bag, I made it into the terminal. I had an Israeli breakfast at the airport McDonalds and then I skyped Auntie Debbie and my mom until it was time to board. We caught a shuttle back from the airport and then caught a cab from the middle of nowhere place it dropped us off in Nicosia. Got back to the apartment, grabbed my books and then went to my 9am class.

One day, I will learn how to blog without including every single detail of my trips. Until then, Happy Reading =)

I'm posting the pictures seperately. So you'll have to check two entries to get the full experience.

Tracy Ain't No Fool!

For the reader's who don't really know me, let me just inform you all that I am a scholar. My scholastic achievements actually helped me make this semester happen. I'm a member of three honors societies and I've been on the Dean's list every semester since I've started college. I say all this to remind you that although this semester is not only about me traveling the world and having the time of my life. I'm STUDYING abroad (emphasis on the study!).

I attend the University of Nicosia and I'm taking 12 credits of electives. The plan was to take at least one major course while i was out here but the university is not offering and communications classes that I need this semester. Womp Womp. I actually wrote this entry in my super irrelevant intro to hospitality management class. We have two teachers because it's a two part class. I absolutely love one and plan on telling the other teacher about his backside before I head back to the states. The one I do like, Chris Heracleous, teaches the cooking portion of the class (the portion that made me want to take the class) and was trained at Johnson & Wales University in Rhode Island. He is hilariously candid and laid back, not to mention amazing in the kitchen. A few weeks ago, he made some bangin' vegetable purèe soup and fresh crutons in like 20min flat. I would give you the receipe but I'd rather cook it for my honeys when I get home =). Sadly, he gets easily side tracked (i.e. while I was writing the class broke off into a 10min discussion about the life span of people who drink Coke on a regular basis. One bold faced woman had the nerve to ask the man "Since you and I are both 33 let's ask the class which one of us looks better. I was a good girl I ate my vegetables and I don't drink or smoke. Look at the difference!" Now she clearly, looks way younger than the teacher so it wasn't even remotely fair. I was like "Why are you trying to embarrass him?" She claims it was for jokes but it wasn't funny and he was clearly uncomfortable.)

Sidenote: Cypriot students are SO disrespectful. It is ridiculous. The come to class 25min late, talk throughout the entire lesson, leave and don't come back after breaks. The first few weeks in my classes I was beyond appalled at the students and the teachers too for allowing it to happen. Thinking about it now I guess the teachers treat the students like adults and don't stress themselves out with trying to alter their attitudes towards their education. Whatever! Most of these Cypriot students wouldn't last a minute in a Morgan classroom. Back to the regularly scheduled entry.

Chris also makes class super long by taking at least 4 smoke breaks. The breaks aren't bad though because on the days we're not in the kitchen it prevents us from getting restless. So far we've only handled food in one class session but next week we'll be in the class for the entire 5 hours. Usually we do 2 hours with Chris and the other 2 with Nicholas Orphanides. He teaches practical hospitality management which is how to run various food service venues/how to be an efficient kitchen team member (i.e. setting and waiting tables, polishing glasses, etc.) We get into petty arguments at least once a week. It's probably because he can sense how much i hate his portion of the class ::kanyeshrug:: Moving on!

Naturally, because I'm abroad in a country that speaks a different language I am taking a foreign language and that language happens to be Greek. Before I started the class, several natives warned me that Greek is very difficult and more than likely I will not learn to o much of the language before my time in Cyprus is over. Sadly, they were telling the truth. Seriously, I can't even order my food in Greek at a restaurant. It doesn't pose a problem because almost everyone is fluent in English (Cyprus used to be a British colony at some point in history), I just feel silly. When I went out to eat with Yasmin and Yodalis in Paris, they ordered in French. When I went out with Efrata in Rome, she ordered in Italian. Joshua ordered in Spanish in Barcelona but he's Dominican so it doesn't count. The other three have been taking the national language of their study abroad countries prior to this semester but still man! I feel like restaurant vocabulary is a basic part of learning a language and for the purposes of being abroad it should be taught early in the semester! I literally just got the worksheet with the restaurant vocabulary today and their are only 42 days left in the semester. The teacher is really nice and I know she has the best intentions but I do not like the way she arranged the syllabus. We were writing sentences in Greek letters before we even learned any vocabulary! Plus, the class is through Global Learning Semesters which means whenever a group from the program is traveling, class is cancelled (i.e. Semester in the Mediterranean (that's my program) got back form their travels on Monday evening so class was cancelled for all students on Monday morning). Despite all that, I'm doing well on paper. I got 100 on the first quiz and a 98 on the midterm. Blah.

My only REAL class is Criminology. My teacher, Stelios Stylianou, studied at the University of Seattle and he loves to talk about how the media skews the public's perception of criminals. Considering I'm not taking any communication courses his method of teaching allows me to receive some form of information relevant to my major this semester. In this class there are only two Americans, one of them is me, the rest of the class is predominantly Cypriot and this is where i learned about their lack of classroom etiquette. It can be frustrating to be in a class with so many Cypriots because sometimes they spark up class discussion in Greek and even if you ask nicely they refuse to continue the discussion in English. The fact that Stelios answers them in Greek doesn't help the situation but it's okay. I suppose they understand somethings better when the teacher explains in their own language so I won't selfishly complain. I took the midterm today and got an 85. I could have done better but I was in a rush to get to cooking because I thought we were going to be in the kitchen. Welp. I actually have to write a paper for the class right after I finish this entry and I'm going to wrap it up right now because we all know how long it takes me to write things. The fourth class is photography but I told you about that two entries ago so I don't have to elaborate here.

I have SO much to write about my Mediterranean trip and I haven't even touched Paris and London and I'm going to Israel tomorrow. I might have to just do highlights from the trips or photoblogs and that makes me sad. We'll see. Wish me a safe trip please!

Where In the World is Tracy Sandiego?

Hi. My name is Tracy and I foolishly left my computer in Cyprus when I went to Paris and London last week. Now I'm in Athens and I have at least one million things to type. Should I tell you about what happened in Athens today? Should I start from March 21st when I first left Cyprus? How about that entry that I promised Ashley about my last day in Egypt? I swear I would start vlogging to make my life easier if my hair would be consistently decent. Bahh. Here we go. Athens first. Paris and London in bits and pieces. Italy and Spain coming in a few days.

You ready?!

FYI - I didn't want to bring ALL my gadgets on the road with me because God forbid I leave something along the way, I refuse to replace it until I can pay for it in USD. With that said, my memory card reader for my camera is in Cyprus safely tucked away in a drawer. Next week, I'll post a link to my FB album so you can see the pics from Greece, Italy and Spain separate from the blog entries. Cool? Thought so! =)


Athens
After returning to the ghost town that is Makedonitissa to regroup after Spring Break Pt. 1, a very small group of GLS students and myself left for Athens this morning. The founder of GLS, Dr Polamides, his wife and the accountant, Elena, and another staff member Eleni are accompanying us on our journey through the Mediterranean. I have a bad habit of not sleeping before I go on exciting trips and I was a total zombie from the apartment until we landed in Athens. We fly out of a very calm and low traffic airport in Larnaca, Cyprus that requires minimal brain capacity to make it through. If you have your passport and you know how to read, you can make it through no problem. I grabbed an Apple Danish at this yummy cafe and knocked out one of their comfy purple couches until boarding time. Before I fell asleep I was able to ask Eleni some questions. She's pretty awesome. She started working with GLS about three years ago after speaking with Dr. Polamides, who was her student adviser at the time. She finishes her MBA at the end of this year. A masters at 23? I respect it! And while she's working on it she gets to have the coolest job ever?
"What do you do at your job?"
"Oh, go on trips with American kids to the Mediterranean for ten days twice a year."
I'm sure it's only cool because she gets to go to the Mediterranean. Imagine working for a study abroad program in America and having to accompany international students to places like New York and D.C.? Doesn't seem nearly as fun.
I had a window seat plus a row to myself on the flight and I definitely fell asleep as soon as I sat down. Like, before I put on my seat belt, before I turned off my phone. Sounds more like I passed out when I think about it. The roar of the engines woke me up when we actually got off the ground and I got myself together. Apparently planes CAN fly even if there is an electronic device turned ON. Go figure! Lol. Please don't intentionally break that rule the next time your on a plane. That was really irresponsible of me! Tell me why I slept so hard that I missed the in-flight breakfast too. I was TOO upset because I saw the flight attendants coming down the aisle and said,'I'm just gonna close my eyes for three seconds but I'll hear 'em when they get close.' The flight attendants were nice enough to bring me a vegetarian plate when I woke up in a panic 20minutes later. Airplanes and airports aren't that exciting so I can spare you the remaining details.

On the way to the hotel, the poet in me awoke from a long slumber and I threw a lil sumthin' sumthin' together. I'll post it as a video. It'll be more entertaining. Greeks drive on the left like Americans and they have toll booths on their highways. It was nice to see something that reminded me of home. Until I saw the price. 6 euro 50 centieme? That's a meal. Chill, I'll take the local roads. It took about 15min to get from the airport to the hotel and the ride wasn't that scenic. When I flew over Greece on my way to Paris the aerial view was amazing though so I anticipate more scenic views before I take off again. We're staying at the Crystal City Hotel somewhere in the heart of downtown. Despite the slum-like surroundings, the hotel is exceptionally nice. I'm sharing a room with Gillian (what's new?) and our balcony overlooks the crumbling balcony of an abandoned building.

We had a free day today so after a refreshing little nap, the whole lot of us (minus the escorts) ventured downtown to the Athens Flea Market. We walked it instead of taking public transit so we could take in the sites and enjoy the seventy degree weather. Along the way we encountered a cluster of African men who were too excited to see me. It wasn't anything different from walking past a group of men anywhere in the world and I was polite, saying my Hello's and Thank You's when I needed to and barked on the one man brave enough to grab me.

My roomies were freaked out by the interaction and Lauren attempted to admonish me and tell me that I need to be careful. This from the girl who walked off into the desert with two men from the netherlands in the dead of the night in Egypt. PLEASE, -_- . I had to explain that A. I can handle myself just fine (I'm from Brooklyn and I go to school in Baltimore. C'mon son) and B. it's polite to speak to people who greet you in passing instead of walking past without saying a word and looking rude.

Anyways, we passed a million shops before we got to the actual market and I was confused because it looked like everyday household shopping instead of tourist stores. Brooklyn readers, imagine Bobby's broken down by each department and in individual store fronts. We also passed an alley that looked like an outdoor meat market and a few pet shops too. After walking down "Bobby's Road" for what seemed like eternity we found Monastiraki Square which is where the flea market begins. There were tons of Africans selling all sorts of bootlegged goods, restaurants, fruit stands, a mosque, and hoards of people. Gilly got a patent leather multi colored patchwork Prada bag for 20 euro. Not bad if your into knockoffs! We shopped around for a bit and I found a few nice souvenirs but didnt buy anything because I wanted to shop around for the best price. I found out later that the markets are closing early tomorrow for Easter so I hope I can make it over there in time after our walking tour.

All the shopping made me super hungry and I persuaded my group to stop for an early dinner at this cute restaurant. I don't remember the name but I took a pic of the menu so I'll ask someone to translate tomorrow. I ordered Moussaka which is eggplants, ground meat and custard. Just imagine meatloaf with a Greek twist. It was really yummy and then I put some hot sauce on top and it was banging! While we were eating/people watching the bootleggers ran past our restaurant like three times attempting to dodge the police. I would have given up and went home but they were awfully relentless.

After we ate, we continued browsing through the flea market. I impressed Gregorios, a merchant, with my ability to write my name in Greek. He sells wire nameplates with Greek lettering and his sales pitch was "Come let me write your name to show you!" I told him I already knew how, wrote it out for him and pinky promised to come back and buy something for him tomorrow. My favorite shops at the market were the shoe stores with the young staff playing West Coast gangsta rap. The Nike store was playing "Gangsta's Paradise" and this ladies sandal shop called Reply was playing "Gin and Juice." Random!

We got back to the hotel pretty early after shopping so Gilly and I decided to go for a walk . around the neighborhood to find Jenny a good luck charm. Her life has been a series of silly unfortunate events these past few days so I figured she needed a pick me up. We walked opposite of downtown just to switch up the scenery but a native approached us and warned that there is a "teef" problem in the area and we should go. My sense of adventure and my warped sense of risk agreed for once and we head back in the direction of the market. I got Jenny a Mati "evil eye" bracelet from a skeevy little store for 2 euros. On the way back to the hotel I randomly bumped into my friend Samantha who I was in London with last weekend. She's staying at a hostel nearby and we're gonna try to linkup at some point. Second time I've seen a familiar face from home while abroad.

I'll tell you about the first time whenever I get around to writing about Paris. It's 2am and I have to get ready for bed because I have to blogging the same day did not help me get the entry out any faster but at least I got it out of the way. OH! I forgot to tell you how i almost got pick-pocketed! I'll tell you about it tomorrow 'cuz I am too sleepy but just know that you cannot swindle a swindler!

Nite Guys! Hope you enjoyed it.