A Little Bit About Jordan.

Hi y'all! . . . (probably just my parents). It's the moment I've been holding my breath for for a year and a half now! Time to pack my backpack and put my traveling shoes back on. My blog is officially off it's (very long) hiatus. I'm leaving for Amman, Jordan today, which will be my home for the next seven months as I study Arabic at the University of Jordan. With my laptop and camera in tow, I'll be recounting every amusing bit of my stay . . . or at least posting some pretty pictures!

Wait . . . where's Jordan again ? . . . aren't they Muslim? . . . why on earth are you going there? . . . wouldn't England or like, Costa Rica be a better option? . . .

So, when I went backpacking solo the fall before last, people drove me up the wall with all their "are you sure that's safe??????" comments (condescending stare goes here). As you know, I returned in one piece. Without any bad experiences. Except Prague. However, that's more just because Prague sucks. But that's another story. Anyway, this time the comments have steered away from concern for my safety and more into the realm of just silence. The awkward kind. I usually assume it's because people's brains are racing to try to figure out if Jordan is in Africa or Asia. Or Europe if they're really bad at geography (read: dumb). Maybe it's because they think that Jordan is a country populated entirely by terrorists. Or maybe they had never even heard of Jordan and previously thought it was just the name of their child. I don't know what's going on, but it makes me uncomfortable, and the next person who asks, I'm telling them I'm studying in London. That way they can ask me to take a picture of Big Ben or some other bullshit and it will all be okay.

Jordan isn't in the news much - so I realize most people don't know much about this small, quiet country. I didn't know much about Jordan until recently. So here's a little bit about the place I'll be calling home for the next seven months. Jordan is in the Middle East. It borders Israel, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, and Syria. Egypt is super close too. It is a democratic monarchy with a predominantly Muslim population. It is not teeming with terrorists. If you think that, then you need to stop watching Fox news. Nor has it been a player in the recent "Arab Spring". Jordan is a safe, stable country, with reputably warm and welcoming people. It isn't without its faults (largely influential tribal population, outdated interpretations of Islamic Law, etc.), but I shouldn't be in harms way studying there. Tourism is it's biggest source of revenue - you may have heard of a little place called Petra? Yeah, that's in Jordan. So are numerous opportunities for swimming, diving, hiking, rock climbing, and numerous other outdoorsy activities. Jordan is a huge draw for the adventuresome outdoorsman and thus perfect for me. Unfortunately, the country is a little light on the ancient ruins or fabulous Islamic architecture known to other parts of the region, but I'm sure it'll do.

So anyway, my flight leaves at 9pm tonight, and my stomach is in knots. Mostly for silly reasons, like being afraid my flight will be delayed or the airline will lose my luggage. I'm supposedly being picked up at the airport by a representative from my program, and I'll be pissed if something happens and I miss them and I have to take a $40 taxi at 10 pm to the hotel instead. Undoubtedly, things will go fine, but it doesn't stop me fretting.

I'm extremely proud of my packing abilities, especially since I was packing for seven months (no easy feat), so I'm going to leave you with a picture at my awesomely rolled and bagged suitcase.


Thank you, hefty.

Hi Jolly's Outpost

I wrote yesterday's post from Quartzsite's lone internet "cafe", Hi Jolly's Outpost, best described by my cousin, Kait, who said "it's the little building that looks like you could tie your horse out front" when I asked where to find it. Straight out of Oregon Trail this "cafe" is a tiny, ramshackle house with an espresso machine on the kitchen counter and three tables shoved into what I presume used to be the "living room." I base this assumption on the fake wood walls and ceiling, as well as the carpeted floors. My personal favorite touch was the similarly carpeted porch. I took as an invitation to take off my shoes as I blogged.

Upon arriving after my walk through the hot Arizona sun to get there, I was in the mood for something refreshing and inquired after iced coffee, despite the fact that it wasn't on the five item menu. My response from the 45-year-old, seen better days, "barista" was a blank stare. "It's just ice and coffee," I ventured hopefully. After another awkward moment of her confused expression, she responded. "We don't got ice." Okay then. Hot coffee it is. Which reminds me of another classic response Allie and I encountered today on our walk. We were in search of golf tees for Kait, and after asking one proprieter, he replied (in the most hick accent you can think of): "Here in Arizona we cut the tops off water bottles to use as golf tees." I guess that's a no, then?

I came into this trip with the hope that I would meet a lot of quirky, interesting people, instead of a bunch of burned-out homeless kids, so I was happy to meet two guys last night that were actually worthy of an intellectual conversation. Daniel and Justin are world travelers who decided to do some backpacking around their own country for a change. They're camping here for at least a month where they found work setting up an RV park. It was nice to talk to some guys who also understood how different your outlook on life became after you had traveled outside the country. Daniel had actually spent the last six years in South and Central America and was having a particularly hard time adjusting to things back home. Sitting around the fire trading stories from abroad really got me itching for my backpack again. I have a feeling I'll do everything in my power to get somewhere one more time before I head back to university in the fall.

Some crazy bum joined us around the fire last night, and he had me laughing so hard I was in tears. Apparently he spends all day sitting in his tent listening to AM radio, so he was actually fairly intelligent and certainly knew what was going on around the world. Except that EVERYTHING was a conspiracy theory. Like that Hurricane Katrina was manipulated by the government so that it purposefully destroyed the South. Or that the Rockafeller family eats gold. I also learned about this substance called Ormus (which he tried to explain to me how to make) that makes a scale go up instead of down and disappears when put in a frying pan over an electric stove. I ended up asking him about aliens because I figured he might have been "abducted" or experienced some strange shit, but instead he replied, "Oh, no, no, no, they don't come here no more. It's like this. Most of us don't go to the jungle 'cuz we don't wanna hang out with no monkeys, right? They don't wanna hang out wit us." Possibly the best analogy ever, no?

GRRR. I'm trying to upload photos, but the internet here at the camp is painfully slow . . .

"The hippies had it right." Right????? Hmmm.

Quartzsite, Arizona is pretty much exactly what I thought it would be, but I didn't expect the feelings that it brought up inside of me. Immediately upon arriving at our campsite Thursday night, we were greeted by 15 odd "hippies" in all matters of dirt, dishevelment, and blank stares. My immediate thought about these people was that they were all a bunch of losers, but the more I think about it, the more I ask - is it really any worse than the way most Americans choose to live their lives? Are those that live through meaningless jobs, unhappy marriages, and the control of conformity really any better when we don't even know what the point of life is? Shouldn't we all just do what makes us happy???? Why should we do something just because society is telling us to?

The main problem I have with this lifestyle is the choice to take from anyone that offers a helping hand, just so the traveling lifestyle can be perpetuated. I spent yesterday at a Christian homeless shelter, where I got condescending stares because I refused to eat their free meals. I don't need handouts - I pride myself on being an able-bodied person who can provide for myself. Especially when there are tons of starving children in America who don't yet have the ability to provide for themselves. It's partially this particular Christian church's problem for perpetuating the problem by letting these people take from them, but I put most of the blame on this nomadic underworld of "hippies" that somehow feel like they're "beating the system", yet gratefully take from all these people that represent "the system." It especially bothers me that are so sure that their way is right and that because they found this out, they are above the rest of society.

I don't fit in here - it's obvious - my clothes aren't soiled, my hair isn't dreaded, and my vocabulary spans more than 20 words. I realized that would happen, but what frustrates me is the rude way some people have treated me for being different and not living my life in the same way they do. I thought the whole "hippie" thing was about peace, understanding, and acceptance - so why are they shunning me for being myself? I love who I am, and I'm confident enough in that to do what I want and not what other people want or expect me to do, so shouldn't they respect that? Wake up and realize that the world is never, ever, ever going to see eye to eye, and the realistic thing to do is just respect everyone for their differing opinions.

While I think traveling is essential to discovering who you are and what you want out of life, I've also decided that there are two important guidelines when on the road: Respect and Self-sufficiency. Before I went backpacking in Europe I read a lot of blogs that said how important it was to always keep yourself clean and presentable, as well as respectful of locals no matter where you were. You have this amazing opportunity to travel, and you shouldn't ruin it by disrespecting those who don't have the same opportunities. Plus, you're never going to experience another's culture to its full potential if you don't first respect it (even if you don't agree with it). In addition, I think everyone on the road should practice self-sufficiency. That isn't to say you should refuse something if it's offered to you out of kindness, but you shouldn't rely on other people for everything or expect to subsist only on other people's kindness.

Roswell. Hee.

Sitting here in the Roswell, New Mexico Motel 6 right now. I'm jazzed. Tomorrow, Allie and I are totally planning on being the cheesy tourists taking pictures next to whatever hokey attractions they have going on. We already passed the "Alien Walmart" coming into town, and Allie insisted on driving up and taking a bunch of pictures of it. Including one of a Walmart employee standing in front of the alien murals painted in the windows. Welcome to America.

We didn't originally plan on going through Roswell, but as we were heading into Amarillo, TX the weather started to go south so we veered south (you like that?) in hopes of something better. Unfortunately, it's almost as cold here as it was back in Lawrence, and that's why we ended up in a motel. The wind is blowing so violently that our van was rocking as we sat in the parking lot. Staying in a motel is cheating a little bit, but it'll be nice to get a good night's sleep since we have over half our journey to complete tomorrow.

I spent most of our drive between Amarillo and Roswell totally creeped out, between the desolate roads, oppressive darkness, and choice of conversation topics. Once we figured out we'd end up stopping in Roswell, the conversation inevitably turned to extra terrestrial life, government cover ups, the size of the universe, etc. - basically just all matter of topics that you can throw into that "unknown" category. I started to get shivers down my spine as we drove through darkness down a rather deserted highway, jumping at every tumbleweed that crossed our path. It wasn't long before I was gripping the steering wheel maniacally, peering into the blackness, and expecting to see some alien materializing in front of me. Damn that imagination of mine.

I would love to write more, but I'm pretty much falling asleep at the keyboard, and my ability to form coherent sentences is failing . . . hopefully the next time I update, I'll be to my destination!

"Whore-house Arizona"

Where I'm going: Quartzsite, Arizona

Which is apparently : "HOME OF THE WORLD FAMOUS GEM AND MINERAL SHOWS AND GENERAL SWAPMEETING"

What I'm doing there: Visiting my cousin. SWAPMEETING. Mingling with people who think it's still the '60s. Living out of a van. Possibly not showering for several days. Wandering into the desert to have some sort of spiritual experience. Basking in the sun while the rest of the Midwest freezes to death.

Sounds fabulous right? I'm braiding my hair, donning my tie dye, and adding American Beauty to my iTouch as we speak.

How did this come about you might ask?

Back in August my cousin, Kait, bought a school bus, painted it blue, and decided to make it her home/glass blowing studio. She left her hometown of Lawrence, KS for the west coast, but not before marrying her boyfriend in a river - probably the best wedding I'll ever be a part of, but that's another story completely. Anyway, due to cold weather they recently migrated down to Quartzsite to try to sell some of their art. Meanwhile, I came to Lawrence to visit my grandma for the holiday, and it was here that Allie, Kait's mom, asked if I wanted to road trip down to Arizona for a couple of weeks to escape the cold and visit her daughter. With nothing awaiting me back home except my freezing bedroom and reruns of CSI on Spike, I immediately said yes and started packing my bag.

We're leaving first thing tomorrow morning - a good 23 hour drive that will take us down through Witchita to Amarillo and then over to Albuquerque, Flagstaff, and Phoenix, before finally reaching our destination. We'll be driving through four states I've never even been to. I'm terribly untraveled when it comes to even my own country . . . but I guess I have to start somewhere. I've packed light, comparable to the "backpacking through Europe" Liz, not the usual "pack three times as many outfits as you'll actually wear and ten times as many hair products as you'll actually use" Liz, but I am bringing the laptop in order to do some better blogging. Hopefully I'll have Wi-Fi so I'll be able to post - it would suck not to be able to capture in writing the odd hilarity that these next two weeks will inevitably bring.

God, I have so much to say; I don't know where to start. If I sit down and reflect it's just like "Am I really working at a hostel bar in Istanbul!!??" I don't think it can really get much better, considering how much I love Turkish people and Istanbul in general. Working here is flat out hilarious with a dash of awkward thrown in on top. I work in the bar with a guy named Volcano (his real name is Vulcan - so Volcano in English), and he is probably one of the most entertaining people I've ever met. We also get along really, really well - I say it in all sincerity that by the time I leave, he'll probably be one of the best friends I've ever had. As he puts it - "we have the same mentality." His English isn't the best, so he picks up all these random phrases that people teach him. Although he's improved immensely, because when I met him back in September, he could barely speak English at all. Anyway, he's constantly making me laugh, whether it's because he puts liberal amounts of mayonnaise on everything (rice, soup, plain bread, tomatoes) or because he's saying things like "I want to open a waffle shop in America with Russian waitresses." Which is genius by the way. Yesterday I gave him a glass of red wine, he took a sip, and said "this needs something", so he proceeded to get out the coca cola and add it to the red wine. Huh. Never seen that one before. He also asks every other girl if she'll marry him "For visa. I don't like you, I hate you, just for visa." This girl and I interviewed him on video the other night, and I really hope she takes the time to edit it and put it up on YouTube, because it would probably be a major hit. Bahaus Guesthouse is the highest rated/most popular hostel in Istanbul, it's full almost every night, and at least every other review that's submitted online mentions how entertaining Volcano is. A YouTube video of him would be gold.

I'm having a bit of trouble adjusting to staying up so late, especially without drinking. I downed like six cups of coffee last night that didn't help at all, but thankfully it wasn't busy and Volcano let me go to sleep at one. I just can't sleep in - I'm always up by 8:30, and I have to be in the bar at 3pm so I never really have time to take an afternoon nap or anything. I definitely think I am solidly a morning person. At midnight last night, I was teaching these two Dutch guys how to play backgammon, and they were taking FOREVER to move each time. I was basically nodding off while they carefully decided where to move their friggin pieces.

I had my first conversation with the owner last night - what a weird guy. When I was here in September I never saw him, but he's been here every night so far, often with his pretty, young girlfriend. Can you say "golddigger". This guy is middle-aged and over-weight, with an unruly mop of hair - they make quite the couple. Anyway, my first two nights he didn't speak to me, and I was reminded of good 'ole Mr. Fox and his "I'm too important to talk to you attitude." But he's opening a new hostel in southern Turkey, and I wrote out all this information about it on a giant whiteboard in my flawless handwriting, so he came to thank me for it. Then he made me sit down, so he could teach me this stupid die game that he had "invented." Then pretty much forced me to go play it with this group of people. Awkward. He told me he had more games to teach me. I can't wait.

I've barely left the hostel all week - it just seems like I putter around all morning, and then I look at the time and it's one or two and I have to start work in an hour. Now that I have some money to spare, I really should be visiting everything . . . entry prices are steep here, but I'll kick myself if I'm here over a month and don't see at least all the important sights. I should get up off my ass right now and go visit Topkapi Palace. I still need to go to a hamam (Turkish bath) as well - this I get for free through the hostel which saves me 50 lira. You'd think I'd have used it already - who puts off a free massage - but people tend to come back and just pass out, and I would have to come back and work for 12 hours . . . Yesterday Volcano and I went to this sketch super market and I found the most disgusting looking Turkish Delight. It was actually just cotton candy, but it looked like balls of cat hair. I took a picture - I wish I could post it, but I'll definitely go back and buy a box before I come home. And give it to some poor soul for Christmas.

I sure am slacking off on this blog a bit. In a way it's a good thing though, because it means I'm spending more time out with my fellow travelers, rather than sitting in front of the computer. I've done so much since I wrote my last post a week ago (wow, time is going way to fast right now), I'll either end up writing a short novella or forget half of what happened.


Last Wednesday, my second day and last day in Bulgaria, we took a day trip with the hostel to the Rila Mountains, which I believe are north of Sofia, but I'm probably wrong. It was my first time in a car since I've left the States, and it was a bit nervewracking. Our driver was up to 160 kph at times, and kept passing cars with minimal amounts of space between us and oncoming traffic. Not to mention his eyes kept fluttering shut on the way home. I don't think their road rules are exactly the same in Bulgaria as they are in the States . . . Anyway, we headed up to a monastery apparently built by some hermit. It was a relatively warm day and exceptionally pretty with all the leaves changing colors. I spent a good deal of time just wandering through an abandoned house and then down to this river. I managed to slip and fall (of course) and jamb my knee pretty badly into a rock - meanwhile, this one girl in our group was prancing around like some sort of monkey in just a pair of converse, making me feel thoroughly uncoordinated. I can't quite figure out when I started falling quite so much, but I don't feel like I use to be this clumsy. I'll go into it more later, but currently my legs look like someone's from a battered women's shelter.



I encountered the worst toilets of my trip at this monastery, (something I would not be saying if I were in SE Asia, but still, wasn't ready for it) basically just a shower floor with a drain - so if you wanted to poo, you'd pretty much be out of luck. The floor was all wet, and I really hoped it was just water, because otherwise I left with pee pants. Not to mention the bats hanging from the ceiling. The real kicker was that I had been down by the river and decided I should probably trek back up to the monastery to use the toilet. What a waste of time and precious energy. Not only would I have saved myself the walk, it probably would have been a lot more sanitary.





We had a 7pm train out of Sofia that night which we bought a liter of vodka for (damn Aussies), as well as a bottle of mystery alcohol from the train station with our remaining lev. Our train ended up being about 40 minutes late, and we're sitting in the station when this beggar comes up to us asking for money. Not one of us has one single Bulgarian coin on us, but the beggar won't leave, so Blaze takes out his wallet and turns it upside down to show that we really don't have anything. A random coin falls out, so he hands it to the beggar. It's not Bulgarian, so he picks it up, examines it, gives us this huge look of disgust and gives the coin back to Blaze. Classic. The beggar actually rejected the money.





We had to get sleepers on the train - not that I'm complaining - it was nice to have a bed, but we ended up hanging out with two guys from the compartment next door - making 5 people in our 3 bed compartment. One of the guys was from Hong Kong, but he was "studying" in Milan. Except he didn't go to class. At all. He was like "I'm just traveling - I'll go back for the exams." And this was his third night train in a row. He trumped us all in cards, and then fell asleep on my friend Josh's bunk in a meditation pose. What a badass.



There was an awkward moment on the train when I went to leave the compartment to use the restroom and someone said something about locking me out. I replied, with the door open to the hallway, "that's fine, I'll stay out here with the conductor, he was pretty hot." I turned around and the conductor (some 60 year old man with perfect english) was standing right there just staring at me. I think I made it even more awkward by diving back into the compartment in a fit of giggles . . .


We got to the Turkish border at about 1 am, and had to get off the train to get visas and passport stamps. I already had my visa, so it only took about 20 minutes, but we stayed at the station for about 2 hours for who knows what reason. We were right by the toilet, and the window was open, so we kept having to listen as people's pee trickled on to the tracks . . . After we left around 3 I managed to sleep until about 8 when the conductor woke us up to give us back our tickets. The best moment of the train ride came then, when the conductor was trying to wake up the guys in the next compartment. All night we had been calling the guy Dave, from Hong Kong, just "Hong Kong", and that morning, the conductor is knocking on their door, but no one is answering, and he just starts shouting "Hong Kong . . . Hong Kong . . . HONG KONG!" So funny.



Walking from the train station to the hostel, I just couldn't keep a grin off my face. I think I'm madly in love with Istanbul. The mosques are such a nice change from all the communist architecture and gussied up "Old Towns" that I've been seeing for the last month and a half. It was nice to return to the same hostel as well - kind of like going home, with all the staff recognizing me. 15 minutes after I'd walked through the door, I was enjoying breakfast on the rooftop terrace in only a tshirt. Despite taking the night train, I was too excited to go to sleep, and after breakfast, I took a walk to the supermarket by myself. I inevitably got bombarded by about 10 men - my favorite being the guy at the stop light: "Lady, oh lady, you dropped something!" I turned to look, despite the fact that I wasn't carrying anything to be dropped. He took the opportunity to saunter up beside me. "This," he said, pointing to his heart. "You dropped my heart." Oooo, I wish they made pick up lines like that in the States . . . really hard not to laugh at that one. Later on that day, I took a walk along the sea with Josh and Blaze, and we were in this fish market about 20 minutes away from the hostel when my sandal broke. I had to hobble all the way back with only one flip-flop. I was walking a bit in front of the boys, and they thought it funny to start calling me a dirty gypsy. I probably did look crazy. We passed a bunch of school children, and they all started pointing and laughing at me. Go ahead, laugh at the stupid American tourist, walking down the middle of the street with only one shoe on. I guess it probably would have made more sense to take both off at that point . . .



That evening we wandered through the Grand Bazaar and down to the Spice Market where you can get really good Turkish Delight, as well as something called Turkish Viagra. I will be bringing home Turkish Delight. I will not be bringing home Turkish Viagra. After being unfortunately groped (twice, by the same man) in the market, we took the ferry over to the Asian side of Istanbul for a bit of dinner. I can't comment much on it, because it was dark, and we didn't do much walking around, but we had a decent fish dinner. Friday night is Belly Dancing night at the hostel, but I think stripper would have been a more apt description of this women. I was unfortunately seated in a prime position, and I have to say I felt a bit uncomfortable, especially when she got down on her hands and knees, with her fake breasts in my face and started swing her head in circles.



I met a nice guy from Dublin on Friday, and on Saturday, we took the ferry to the Princess Islands, located off the coast in the Marmara Sea. We went to the largest island; it's something similar to Mackinac Island on Lake Michigan, except it was rather deserted since it was the off season. The weather was absolutely gorgeous - at least 75 degrees, without a cloud in the sky. We were able to rent bikes for the entire day for only $6, and they were good bikes too, with brand new seats. It was nice to get some genuine exercise for the first time since I left, and I was pleased to see I was in better shape than I thought. We ended up getting really hot, and George took off his shirt, while I stripped down to just a tank, which is pretty much a major no-no in Turkey. It was a Saturday, so there were a lot of Turkish tourists on the island, and we kept getting dirty looks from the women and laughs and points from the men. There were horse drawn carriages, and as they would pass, the passengers would just turn around and stare until they couldn't see us anymore. It was quite an experience, having something that is completely normal at home be considered inappropriate. I certainly felt a bit ashamed.

There weren't any beaches on the island, and the road was up on a ridge, but we managed to find a place to climb down, and we decided to go for a bit of a swim. The water was freezing - probably the coldest water I've ever been in; it definitely took a bit of adjusting too. I was standing in waist high water, but George was already out, so I decided I'd count to three and just plunge in after him. I did, but when I resurfaced I couldn't breathe, because the water had been so cold. I'm next to him, pretty much half drowning - and he's laughing because I just told him how I used to swim competively. It's a bit of different situation being in the sea in November. I'm not going to lie - I'm also a bit afraid of open water. I've spent so much time in the water, and I love it, but I've grown up in a completely land-locked area, and when I can't see the black stripe at the bottom of the pool, I get a little nervous that something is going to come up and bite my toes. Anyway, I survived, and it was awesome, because the Saturday before I was trekking through the snow covered Transylvanian Mountains, and this Saturday I got to swim in the sea.

I could go on forever, but this is actually turning into a novel, so I'm gonna skip ahead a few days, since I didn't do much except drink myself into oblivion, fall a fair few times, and wander around like a zombie. Yesterday (Tuesday) was my first day as official staff at Bahaus Guesthouse. I get a free bed, free laundry, and free homemade food that's quite tasty, but I'll definitely be working quite a bit. I start at 3pm every day and have to stay up until everyone else is done, so I'll probably have some late nights. Tariq, the manager tried to tell me something about making commission for referring people to certain places, but honestly I don't really care. As long as I'm not spending any money, I can't be bothered. They're so concerned about commission here though - everything is sell, sell, sell. Working in Istanbul with a bunch of Turkish people is definitely going to be an experience I will never forget. I think I'm glad I'll only be doing it for 3 weeks - I don't think I can handle the "cheat the tourist" attitude for much longer.

Okay, Volcano (my fellow barman - we're the Bahaus Badasses) keeps bothering me to come eat, so I'll just post this and add to it later . . .