Egyptian Excursion Pt. 3

I was able to sleep easier my second night at Arabian Nights. More than likely because I was exhausted after the ridiculously long day I had prior to going to bed. The good sleep was short lived though because we had to meet in the lobby for 7am to head out into the desert. I had a REALLY hard time deciding what to wear for that portion of the trip. The weather on Friday was weird because when the sun was out it would be like 80 degrees and then once a cloud came it would be in the high 50's out of nowhere. How do you dress for that kind of temperature drop?! I opted to wear leggings for comfort on the long drive, my all purpose denim shirt with a white tee, my green leather and orange scarf. Oh! And Let's not forget my loafers, great for walking... on streets, not desert sands. (Typically, I wouldn't describe an outfit but all these pieces become important later on.) I could have bypassed all the effort I placed into the decision making process because my entire room brought our suit cases along. Not that we didn't trust Arabian Night's locks, but just as a safety precaution because we knew we weren't coming back until the next evening and in the event we got delayed on the ride back, we wanted to have the option of heading straight to the airport.

Our ride arrived promptly at 7:15am and after another delicious serving of the exact same breakfast as the day before, we head out into the unknown with an adorable driver who spoke absolutely no English and only listened to traditional middle eastern music. There were SO many mirrors inside that vehicle it was ridiculous; his rearview had a rearview. I tried to ask him what he needed all the mirrors for but all I got was a chuckle and the volume turned up on me. Everyone was still pooped from the festivities of the night before so there was more sleeping than talking going on in the van. One of the girls, Anne, was EXTREMELY hungover from the night before. To this day, Tone and I still can't figure out what the heck she was drinking on to get wasted like she was. They served alcohol on the dinner cruise but it was insanely expensive and neither of us can remember her having a ton. Either way, Anne was green in the face when we pulled off and about thirty minutes into the ride we had to gesture to the driver to please stop so she could hurl. It was pretty gross but at least we were able to stop quickly enough for her to make it outside.

About twenty minutes after we got back on the road, we pulled over at a rest stop for a stretch. I guess you have to be a frequent desert caravan driver to know that this sole gray shack was a rest stop because there wasn't even one sign in Arabic or English that let us know it was coming up. Some of the girls went to the bathroom and said that they basically peed into an inclined hole that drained into a dirt troth behind the building. How nice! I decided I could hold it until further notice.

We got back on the road and I had my ghetto iPod with me so I put my head phones in so I could rock out. Now my ghetto iPod is really my American cell phone and it's music player application. I refer to it as the ghetto iPod because I do possess a real iPod, I just choose not to use it often because it's not updated with new music. I refuse to update it because my best friend since freshman year in high school put the majority of the music on there during our junior year (this was when I didn't know how to use iTunes) and sentimentally I can't bring myself to delete the songs he put on there for me. It's like a musical keepsake. Anywho, my soundtrack for the ride into the desert was 'ignant' to say the least, lol. I listened to so much Young Money it was ridiculous. I have about 700 songs on my phone but between No Ceilings and We Are Young Money, I could not get away from the camp. There was a lot of Trey Songz, Wale and some Reggae in the mix as well. I felt like I should have been listening to something more meaningful and relative to the epic-ness of the trip but whatever! I was cracking up the whole time at Weezy's nonsense lyrics.

The ride into the desert was soooooooooooo+thirty more o's LONG. The 5 hour ride seemed like a never ending journey and that has everything to do with the lack of scenery. Sand. Mountain. Sand. Road. Sky. Clouds. Repeat. I was in and out of sleep for about three hours and every time I woke up I couldn't tell that we made any progress. Not to mention the lack of signs! I was convinced that the driver either had no real destination and he was taking us to whatever camp site popped up first OR he was connected to the desert on a level of consciousness that required him to use his sense for direction. No maps, no directions, no GPS turn-by-turn directions. Just a can full of college kids putting all their trust into a driver. In between sleeping and jammin, I was praying that we'd make it home safely. Though the scenery was monotonous, it was strikingly beautiful. Looking at endless road and infinite sky, trying to figure out where they'll meet makes you feel like anything is possible.

So finally, after I exhausted my playlists, slept in all the different positions one can manage in the front seat, and played several rounds of the cloud bursting game we finally arrive at a real live desert Oasis. Our driver dropped us off to a new set of drivers who proceeded to take our Passports to make copies "Just in case." Of what? They wouldn't tell us, but that's fine. While waiting for the copy process to take place, a few of us went to a convenience store to grab something to munch on. There was the cutest little boy standing on the steps and he reminded me so much of my little cousin Nasir that I decided to give him some pounds to buy a snack. He said "Shukran," sweetly and I went back across the street with the group. As I'm standing around chatting, I see the little boy dart up the street and around the corner with his snacks and then come back no more than 1minute later empty-handed. I thought it was strange but maybe he was THAT hungry and he felt uncomfortable eating in front of people. I give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Especially children.

Instead of walking back over to the store, the lil cutie patootie walks over to the group and is looking at all of us with this big toothy grin. I asked him what his name is and he answered in broken English "I am Mohammed." That was the most he could say but I appreciated our slight bit of communication. I gave him my bag of chips and he gladly accepted them and began munching away. By the time he finished we had loaded back up into a new car, this time it was a jeep and it was me Gillian, Lauren, Sami (the official guide) and Mahmoud (the driver). The rest of the group drove in another jeep driven by a guy named "Whalid." Mahmoud and Sami had stepped out to handle some business and lil Mohammed made his way over to the window and began repeating the word "Fuluus" over and over again. Having yet to incorporate more than Shukran and La Shukran into my Arabic vocabulary, I had no idea what the child was talking about and I called Mahmoud over to translate for me. I should have let well enough alone because lil Mohammed almost got a beating from Mahmoud when I told him what he said. Apparently, "Fuluus" means money and lil Mohammed was trying to ask me for more of it. Mahmoud was visibly upset and apologized to me but I told him to take it easy on the little hustler.

After that we stopped by Mahmoud's house for him to grab his bag and then we stopped at a butcher to pick up some food for dinner. We got freshly killed and plucked chickens to go. I asked Sami how we were gonna turn the chickens into dinner in the desert but he told me not to worry myself with the details and just enjoy the ride. We drove three hours deeper into the Sahara and crossed through the Black and White deserts. Would you believe me if i told you we had to pay 40 pounds to get into the desert? It's only $8 but honestly, a toll booth in the middle of nowhere? I feel like Mahmoud could have driven around the booth and bypassed all the fees but I don't really know how the security works out there and the toll men did have really big guns.

In the black desert, we got out of the car and got to climb a mountain. I couldn't go up as high as I would have liked to because of my loafers. Couldn't get a grip and didn't wanna fall down and ruin the trip for everyone. I guess i could have taken my shoes off but I knew i wouldn't see a shower for 24 hours. Blah. I stopped half way. Some of the other group members made it all the way to the top and took pictures. Kudos to them and they're good footwear.

In the White desert, i climbed a smaller mountain and got all up in the rocks to take pictures. Tone took an uber awesome shot of him on the edge of the mountain wrapped in his traditional scarf. He looked like a grown up real life version of Simba standing on pride rock. I tried to be a big girl and walk down this mountain by myself but I defnitely slipped and had it not been for Tone and Kam I would have tumbled all the way down with my gripless shoes.

Then we went to the dunes and they were SO AMAZING. I've seen them on calendars and posters but in real life, nothing short of breath taking. What was also breathtaking was when I tried to get out of the car to go take a picture, Gillian slammed my fingers in the car door and I screamed at the top of my lungs. Sami came to my rescue and said "I thought your leg got caught in the wheel or something! For this, we don't have to turn back." I smiled through my tears and managed to stop crying long enough to take a group picture. Afterwards, we drove down into the dunes at top speed and then did donuts until our tires got stuck in the sand and we had to dig each other out. Fun. Reckless foreign fun.

Sami finally instructed Mahmoud to pull over and we set up our camp site. Along the way we picked up another set of campers in a third jeep and the drivers parked the jeeps into an open square formation to create a little fort for us. They laid blankets and pillows down in the middle and set up two camp fires. One for cooking and one for warmth. While they were setting up the camp, everyone ventured off to use the bathroom before it got too dark. Being the genius that I am, stole a roll of toilet paper from the hostel just in case there wasn't any in the desert. As I suspected, there was none and my toilet paper came in handy but I decided I was only gonna do Number 1's until I got back to the city because I didn't want to run out of paper and be walking around all squishy and smelly for the rest of the trip.

So after I get back from my bathroom run, this group of girlfriends that I came out with asked me if they could borrow my toilet paper and I said sure no problem! I'm not gonna hold out on the homies! I gave these girls the benefit of the doubt and assumed that they would know to ration off the toilet paper sensibly seeing as how it wasn't theirs. I feel like any respectable person would have known to do that in such an extreme situation. Needless to say, the girls get back from behind their rock all giggly and I asked "Hey, wheres my toilet paper?" and Blair walks over and whispers "I'm really sorry Tracy, but we finished it. We did number 2 and I mean, its four of us. Ya know?" Sooooo because all of you had to relieve your bowels I'm supposed to just take the L and carry on with no tissue for my behind? Oh iight. I was mad but it's not like I could send her to the corner store to buy me a new roll. Psh.

ANYWAYS!

The meal I ate in the desert was hands down the most delicious meal I ate the entire time I was abroad. The drivers had to secretly be world class chefs because to throw down like that in the middle of nowhere has to be a learned skill. We knelt at a make-shift table and ate a two course meal of lentil soup, and roasted chicken with rice. Scrum-diddly-umptious.

As the sky darkened and the air got cooler, I started to realize that my little outfit was not going to be enough to keep me warm for the night. We huddled around the fire for warmth and talked and sang for hours. I specifically remember two things:

1. Tone, Kam and I had a long conversation about whether or not he would still live in his old neighborhood after he becomes famous. He said he's leaving and not looking back and I called him a sell out. I told him I'd try my hardest to still live in New York City if it was suitable to my career.
2. Sami the tour guide was IN LOVE with Tone and I. He wanted to know everything about our "family" and would make little jokes about us. The best was this song he was singing in Arabic about Sweet Potato's and Chocolate. He started singing it in English and pointing at Tone and me. It was cute. We felt special.

Some of the group members were brave enough to walk away from the fire to get a better look at the stars but not me. The darkness that surrounded us was the darkest of darknesses I had even seen in my life and I am scared of the dark! Not to mention, I saw some desert foxes bravely trotting into our camp. I really wasn't interested in whatever other creatures were lurking about. I will say that it felt like the stars were insanely close to us. There were MILLIONS of them and they may as well have been sitting on top of my nose. Being out there was truly a humbling experience. No one in my family knew where I was or what I was doing, I had no phone, I barely knew the people who brought me there and I only had one true friend with me. All I could do was have faith in the goodness of the world and put my irrational fears of being left in the desert to fend for myself aside.

As the fire died down, Tone, Kam and I decided to sleep in the truck on top of all the luggage because sleeping outside was too cold and too daunting for our liking. I don't know why we assumed it would be warmer in the truck but we could not have been more wrong! It was FREEEEEEEEZING. Like white air coming out of your mouth, teeth chattering, can't feel your fingers or toes cold. All the homeless people in NYC who opt to sleep outside rather than head to a shelter in the winter are CRAZY. And for Abraham to not warn us that it was going to be winter like conditions was not fair at all! But whatever. We made it through the night, watched the sunrise, ate a delicious breakfast and began our journey back to Cairo.

First we had to get back to the Oasis to meet with our driver. He was running late so Whalid, one of the drivers, brought us to his house and served us tea (of course) and cookies. When the driver finally arrived, he took us plus the Dutchmen to the other side of town and then went to go hang out at the police station with his friends. This would have been totally fine if we didn't have a flight to catch at 10:20pm and a 5 hour drive ahead of us. 30mins later, 10 of which I was incessantly honking the horn, Elvis (he had the Elvis curl in his hair!) angrily gets back in the car and starts driving like a bat out of hell.

We make it back to Cairo by 6 but instead of taking us directly to the hostel Elvis ever so kindly drops us beneath the freeway and has someone translate to us that he can't take us further and he will be finding us some cabs. Red flag. Why can't you take us directly to where we need to go? And Why would you leave us in this very non touristy neighborhood looking like American deers in headlights? Whatever. So 30min later, the translator guy, who was kind enough to stay with us finds us some cabs because Elvis never came back. We tell the cabbies where we need to go and again, instead of taking us to the hostel, they drop us like 10 blocks away, PAST the market and tel us to get out. Okay. Fine. Us and all of our luggage will get out and walk this ridiculous journey with all of our luggage. That is fine. Imagine me and my zebra luggage pulling through the streets on a Sunday night. That SCREAMS tourist.

Finally we get back to the hostel and explain the story to Ahmad and Abraham and in the middle of our story guess who shows up? All the flat leavers, Elvis and the entire cab crew! These men tried to lie and say we told them to pull over and leave us on the side of the road and then they tried to ask us for money! Sike. My all inclusive desert trip was paid for on Friday night and you didn't even take me where I needed to go. Buzz off! Ahmad and Abraham had a rough discussion with the men in Arabic and when it was over they all apologized to us and Elvis ended up having to pay for the taxi's since he was responsible for our return. We had to head out to the airport a little while after that and Abraham had Ahmad buy us Kooshari (a traditional dish of rice, corn, beef, and veggies) as a goodbye/make-up for the horrible drivers dinner. The ride to the airport took an hour longer than we expected and Ahmad hopped out 20minutes in, claiming he wasn't dressed appropriately for the occasion. That really messed us up because our driver spoke no English and he dropped us at the wrong gate.

The next hour was like a scene out of a comedy novice travelers. Believing we were indeed at the right gate, we all sat down to eat our Kooshari leisurely. Once we figure out where at the wrong terminal, we jump on the shuttle that takes us to the "right one" but that took a total of 45minutes to happen and when we got there it ended up being wrong anyway. I can't accurately describe the amount of foolishness we went through but trust we literally ran all up and through the airport. Down narrow hallways, up shady stairwells, through security checkpoints, argued with guards and when we finally made it to the gate at 10:01pm they told us that the flight was delayed and hadn't even started boarding yet. We looked ridiculous sitting in the lounge all red faced, sweaty and out of breath but at least we made it.

I don't know if you realized this but there were no showers in the desert and I hadn't bathed since 6am Saturday morning. As soon as we made it back to Cyprus I turned on the water heater and took the LONGEST most AMAZING shower of my life.

I'll do a Visual Vacation entry so you can see the fabulosity of this portion of my journey.

Let's Go Back.

Forgive me readers. Seriously.

I have no good reason for not writing since April but please believe that I have not forgotten my promise to fill you in on all of my travels. The stories are still at the top of my brain and I promise they will be just as juicy as if I had told them when they first happened.

Things are a bit out of order right now but my trip itinerary goes as follows:
1. Cairo, Egypt
2. Paris, France
3. London, England
4. Athens, Greece
5. Rome, Florence, and Venice, Italy
6. Barcelona, Spain

My next few entries will be in trip order so please bare with me. I appreciate your continued support and readership and I hope you enjoy the new entries as much as you did the old ones. Thank you so much!

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.