Three Years in Southern Africa

First posting from Botswana

2011-04-07T11:35:00.002+02:00

As many of you have noted, I’ve been in Botswana for seven months now, and have yet to update my blog. No excuse really other than apathy and crappy internet service. When my sister Barbara has bugged me (repeatedly) to post something, I keep telling her that life here is so dull that I don’t really have anything to say. I don’t think she quite believes me, but we’ll see if she does after reading this…

So anyway, I guess I should start at the beginning, my house. I ended up on a sort of mini embassy compound which has my house in a shared yard with my colleague Kittie. Next door is our health unit and the gym (no excuse not to be hitting it hard when I only have to walk 20 meters to get there). Kittie’s and my yard is relatively small but does have a great big pool which I use on a regular basis. We share expenses for our Zimbabwean gardener who comes twice a week and our Motswana pool boy who drops by three times a week to clean and treat the pool. I also have a housekeeper who comes twice a week, so once again I'm basically hemorrhaging money on domestic staff.

I should break in here and give you a quick explanation of the words you will see throughout this update. The country is Botswana (pronounced like “boat”), one person from Botswana is a Motswana (like the moat around a castle), a group is Batswana (like knot, but with a “b”), think America versus Americans.

Okay, back to the living arrangements. You would never know it by looking at it, but I’ve spent a fortune on our yard at the local garden store. Since it is an embassy owned property, clearly no one has ever put any effort at all into improving it. So instead of a semi-arid tropical paradise like most of my co-workers’ yards, ours is rather sad and dejected. I’m getting a bit frustrated with the gardener because he is doing the typical thing, start out great and then slowly, bit by bit, become an undependable slacker. I’m going to have a serious come to Jesus talk with him one of these days.

So my house is pretty small and unmemorable. I got the old “he’s a single guy, put him in the small place” again. Little did they know that I’d be arriving with my maximum household effects weight of over 7,000 lbs of crap. Amazingly enough, I’ve jammed it all in, and the place is quite cozy. My friend Stuart came over after I had finished unpacking and commented that it looked like I had lived there 10 years already. I’m still not sure if that was a compliment or not. Anyway, I have a nice little porch which I’ve packed with houseplants and now that the weather is cooling down a bit, plan on using more often. The inside consists of a living room/dining room combo, kitchen, pantry, hallway, three decent sized bedrooms, a great big walk-in closet in the master, and two bathrooms. I’ve turned one of the guest rooms into an office which works out well. I’ve posted some pics, so you can see what it’s like. Unfortunately, we do have walls with electric gates and electric burglar fences. I was hoping that wouldn’t be the case, but better to be safe than sorry.

After almost $4,000 in transportation costs, Zoli finally came to live with me in December after a year of being spoiled and trained by my sister Barbara. The occasional thunderstorm aside, he has settled into life here quite well. I’m really enjoying Zoli more than I ever have before and feel much less stressed out by him. I’m sure this is partially due to the fact that he’s eight years old now and not quite so wild (actually quite lazy), but also because of all the hard work Barbara did with him while I was in Egypt. At any rate, we’ve developed a nice little routine that seems to be working out well for both of us.

So before talking about the Embassy and my job, I should give you a bit of background on Botswana as a country, its people and history, and the current situation. Botswana is roughly the size of Texas, 80% of which is covered by the Kalahari Desert. The Okavango Delta is up in the northwestern part of the country and is apparently one of the more amazing places in the region in terms of wildlife and beauty. I haven’t been up there yet, but it’s on my list of things to do while I’m here. The population is roughly 1.8 million people and 120,000 elephants. The largest ethnic group is from the Tswana tribe although there are smaller tribal groups including the San people (or bushmen) who live in the central part of the country. The governments record with the San is pretty deplorable, but more about that later.

The Batswana were fortunate enough to never have been colonized by a European Power. After the “great voortrek” when the Afrikaner settlers left the Cape Colonies and pushed north eastward and around the time of the Boer war between the British and Afrikaners, the British stepped in (basically to piss the Afrikaners off) and created a protectorate over present day Botswana which was called Bechuanaland. Later, when Cecil Rhodes was gobbling up present day South Africa and Zimbabwe to make into big mines, three prominent chiefs approached the British and asked to remain under their protection. Initially the British Prime Minister told them to work it out with Rhodes, but eventually public pressure within Britain reached such a level that the British government agreed to continue administering the territory. Over the next 50+ years there were all kinds of wheelings and dealings that went on between the British, the South African Government, and then Rhodesia, but the bottom line was that Bechuanaland was never “absorbed” into a neighboring country, and in 1965 there was a peaceful transition to independence.

Today, for the most part, Botswana is a rare success story on the entire African continent. It has a stable democratically elected government (although the main ruling party makes it difficult for opposition to compete), a growing economy and middle class (although unemployment is still near 25%), low levels of corruption, a high level of education, and relatively good infrastructure and health care. This was all made possible by the letter “D” (for the huge pile of diamonds the country is sitting on top of). The government of Botswana struck a deal with DeBeers which allows them to mine and take the diamonds out of the country for a tidy sum of money every month. Great for the country in many ways, but dangerous because eventually these diamonds will run out (like by 2035), and will leave the economy in shambles. They are quickly trying to diversify the economy, but struggling to do so.

The Batswana are by in large agrarian people who, how can I put this nicely, never having struggled for independence and having a government that provides everything for them have become a bit indolent to say the least. It sort of permeates every aspect of life from driving their cars and walking down the street to a decided lack of entrepreneurial spirit or a robust work ethic. They are very nice and gentle people, but the old saying you can take the boy out of the farm, but not the farm out of the boy is very apropos here. Any chance people get and over public holidays, they run back to the family cattle stand in their village. I’m not sure what they do there exactly beside stare at the cows.

One thing they have definitely done in the past is have lots of unprotected sex with multiple partners. This socially accepted idea of “multiple concurrent partners” stems from old tribal practices and has led to one of the highest HIV rates in the world with 25% of the population being HIV positive. It is a deeply religious and conservative society, which makes addressing this problem all the more difficult. Nevertheless, the government has hit it head on, and the rate of infection has actually decreased, and over 85% of those infected receive free anti-retro-virals to manage the disease.

The embassy in Botswana is considered mid-sized. The number of actual State Department employees is rather small, and aside from the normal consular, political, and economic work, we are here to support all the other official folks in country. We joint-run a successful international law enforcement academy with the Botswana government that trains officials from all over Africa in everything from anti-poaching to crime scene investigation techniques. The Department of Defense is fully engaged with the Botswana Defense Forces, and a surprising amount of training and exchanges take place between the two organizations. However, all of that aside, the bulk of what we are doing here is through the PEPFAR program (President’s Emergency Program for AIDS Relief). CDC, and USAID, and Peace Corps are all here in country working on reducing the rate of new HIV infections, treating those already infected, and addressing ancillary health issues like TB. I’m pretty down on foreign aid at the moment (particularly when our my own country is in such a dire economic situation), so I find it impossible to wax eloquently on all the good we are doing here, how the citizens of Botswana are so appreciate, and how the government of Botswana is working to eventually wean themselves off all the free aid, etc. Enough said on that…

Gaborone was built as a capital city after the country gained independence. They chose this site because they could dam up a nearby river and create a water reservoir to draw upon. The city is about 3500 feet above sea level and sits on the edge of the Kalahari Desert about 20km from the South African border. It is for the most part dry and dusty with one large hill on the edge of town. It’s actually one of the fastest growing cities in the world, but still has a population of less than 300,000 and feels like an overgrown village. One would think that starting a city so relatively late, they would learn from mistakes and successes of other cities around the world, but that wasn’t the case here at all. It is lacking a definable town center, and they clearly didn’t know the meaning of the word “zoning” or how to plan for future growth. What you’ve ended up with is a strange hodge-podge of light industrial areas next to housing areas, big empty spaces in the center of town with limited access because of railroad tracks, strange street layouts, random commercial centers, and new housing developments springing up in the oddest of places. Visually it’s drab and architecturally it is a “0.” Most homes were built in the 60’s, and we know what an esthetic decade that was. Up until the last six months, there were no street names, and everything was located by plot number. This might have worked 40 years ago when the city was so small, but now it’s just a nightmare to find anything. Thankfully they have finally begun to install street signs and actual stop lights at intersections.

The climate is a similar to what it was in Johannesburg, 300+ days of sun a year with a rainy season Nov-April, but a bit hotter and dryer here in the summer. I miss the prolific birdlife that I had in Joburg (I put up my extensive birdfeeder pole system 3 weeks ago and haven’t had one bite, very sad), but I do have lots of lizards around the house and there are baboons and vervet monkeys around town. Baboons tend to freak me out so I’m glad they aren’t near me, but I am a bit jealous of my colleagues who have families of vervet monkeys in their yards. I’m told to be grateful because they are pesky little things with opposable thumbs who are always getting into trouble (i.e. opening your kitchen windows and eating all your food). On the down side, I have monstrous spiders around the house from time to time. One type, I refer to as the “pie plate” spider because they are so big and flat, aren’t poisonous, but are so fast that I catch them darting across the wall out of the corner of my eye and almost have a heart attack. The other, the dreaded baboon spider, or Africa’s answer to the tarantula is very dangerous and poisonous enough to kill a pet. They hardly every come inside, but I was lucky enough to find one in my hallway one night. It was so big and chunky that I really didn’t even know what to do. I ended up spraying almost an entire can of Doom on it and the damn thing still wouldn’t die. At one point it flipped over and stuck its legs straight in the air, I thought to myself, “shouldn’t its legs curl up if its dead?” and sure enough, a minute later if flipped over and tried to run away again, sneaky bastard. I ended up getting the broom and beating the thing to death and then felt somewhat guilty about it, whatever…

One huge difference to living in South Africa is that a drive of no more than 20 minutes or so and I’m literally in the bush. We even have our own little game park about five clicks out of town with everything except the big cats and elephants and only 25 kilometers and one border crossing is Madikwe Park in South Africa, one of the best game parks in the region. I really do love getting out into the bush and have myself all kitted up to start weekend camping trips. We had one planned in a park just south of the Kalahari Game Reserve last month, but had to cancel because four of the six going got sick. Camping here is a bit different than you would think because you literally just pitch your tent out in the bush. The area we were planning to stay in was near a watering hole and you would likely have lions and/or hyenas in your campsite at night. Disconcerting to say the least, but everyone says as long as you do not leave your tent under any circumstances, you won’t have any problems. Apparently animals do not comprehend that they could rip the tent with one claw to get to the delicious center.

Anyway, how would I describe life in Gaborone in one word… lackluster, lifeless, monotonous? Really any of those would suffice. It really isn’t a horrible place to live by any stretch. You can drink the water from the faucet; the roads, while inadequate for the number of cars, are in decent shape; electricity works most of the time; crime, although increasing, isn’t as bad as in neighboring countries; there are two movie theaters; and lots of familiar stores I used to shop at in South Africa. The only things missing are decent restaurants, a nice place to go out for a drink at night, and just some basic energy. I’ve talked to many people who’ve spent time all around Africa, and even in some of the more “difficult” cities (Kinshasa, Luanda, Lagos, etc.) there is at least some sort of vibe or an edge. Gaborone is truly the dullest place I’ve ever been in my life. Although life was difficult in Dhaka, at least every day was an adventure. Here, every day is just like the one before it and tomorrow will be.

I know you are probably thinking, “what a total whiner,” but I truly didn’t realize before coming here how difficult true boredom is. Thankfully I have a great group of colleagues at the embassy and have made some friends in the local community to hang out with. Unfortunately, most of my embassy friends are transferring out this winter/summer, so I’m hoping the new group is as good. Another positive thing is being so close to friends in Johannesburg and only two short flights from Cape Town. Although the slackers in Joburg still haven’t come up to visit me here, I’ve been down there regularly to escape. It’s always a bit strange to return to a city in which you once lived, but my friend Angie’s home has become my “home away from home” and makes visits much nicer than staying in a hotel.

Hmm, for not having anything to say, I managed to fill up almost four pages pretty quickly. There are many things I’ve left for future updates, but for the time being, think I’ll leave it at that. I hope you are all doing well, and those of you in the Northern hemisphere are enjoying your well deserved spring. For those of you contemplating a visit to Africa, please don’t let my at times unenthusiastic take on things dissuade you from a visit. This truly is an amazing part of the world with lots to experience and see. You will only have to suffer Gabs to get over jet-lag and as a stopping point to relax and do laundry.

The Red Sea and Learning to Scuba Dive

2011-01-05T17:17:00.000+02:00

So way back in South Africa, I was supposed to become scuba certified so I could go with a group of friends down to Sodwana Bay and dive. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, I got a free trip back to the US for training and missed my classes. When the time came for our trip, I ended up sitting around on shore, drinking with my colleague Paulina, chasing pesky vervet monkeys out of our tents, and having to listen about what a glorious time the divers were having. Flash forward about four years and here I am, sitting (close) to the Red Sea (one of the top diving destinations in the world), and I decided not to let this opportunity pass me by again. One of my many long weekends, I hopped on the French Casa plane for a weekend in Sharm El Sheikh. I decided not to stay at South Camp (due to their midnight curfew, I mean really, a curfew? I'm almost 41…) and opted for a hotel smack in the center of Naama Bay.

The first morning, I hoped out of bed, grabbed my mask and fins, and headed out to the beach. I walked to the end of the pier, jumped into the warm and crystal clear water, dunked my head under and was blown away. Within like 20 feet of where I was floating around, there were literally hundreds of fish, everything from the spiny lion fish, iridescent parrot fish, big long trumpet fishes, puffer fish, butterfly fish, etc. I've snorkeled in off of Key West in Florida (which sucked) and in Thailand, but even that paled in comparison to what I saw within my first two minutes. I ended up spending over three hours swimming around the bay, and by the time I finally came ashore, looked like a very wrinkled and burnt prune.

Other than the great snorkeling, I'm not a huge fan of Sharm. It's a major tourist trap on the southernmost tip of the Sinai Peninsula. There are easily over one hundred hotels in the area, some very nice (Ritz Carlton, Four Seasons), some mid-range and fairly unmemorable, and the majority dodgy with questionable cleanliness. There is a main "boardwalk" along Naama Bay and a couple bustling shopping/pedestrian streets packed with restaurants, bars, souvenir shacks, shisha lounges, etc. During the winter months, it's a haven for thousands of Russians escaping from the cold and dark north…enough said.

After the great experience snorkeling, I did some research online and decided to do my training in Dahab, about 50 km north of Sharm. There are dozens dive centers and plenty of good of dive sites in and around Sharm and Ras Mohammed, an Egyptian national park and ocean sanctuary, including a handful of WWII wreaks are off the coast that you can dive down to. The only problem is that at any given time there are probably 100+ dive boats out on the water lugging people and all their equipment to somewhat overcrowded sites. I opted for the more laid back and less populated scene in Dahab, and it really was a great decision. A group of us drove down over Thanksgiving weekend and did our Padi open water certification through Poseidon Dive Center. To be honest, prior to doing this I was a little anxious about the whole breathing underwater thing and was a little worried that I wouldn’t be able to regulate pressure in my ears. All I remembered was being unable to dive 14 feet to the bottom of the Oakwood YMCA pool and this worried me.

I won’t lie and say that it wasn’t scary at times, but our instructor, a young lady from Scotland, really did a great job of lowering our anxiety level and giving us a solid foundation. We did about 10 or 12 dives that weekend, which included our “confined space” dives which basically taught us technique and safety. These are normally done in a pool, but we just walked out into the sea and did them all in about 20-30 feet of water. The deepest we went was on our final day at about 60 feet or so. Since we had to drive over passes upwards of 3,000 feet to get back to north camp, we had to make sure we gave ourselves enough time on the final day not to have problems with too much nitrogen in our bloodstreams.

We went back down to Dahab for our advance open water certification a month or so later. There wasn’t as much technique in this training, but we did have to do open water navigation which was a bit disconcerting to say the least. The problem some people get into with diving is losing their sense of direction, particularly in open water. You really can’t tell which way you are going and can get hopeless lost, not something I’d relish. We had to work with a compass and do all kinds of things including swimming a perfect square in the big blue (open water with no visual markers on any side or below you. It freaked me out a bit, but I muddled my way through it. We also did a night dive which was also something I wasn’t quite sure about. A group of 5 of us went out to a dive site just as it was getting dark with flashlights and lights to hang off our kits so we didn’t get separated from each other. Night diving is very different from diving in the day because lots of fish only come out at night and you can only see where you have your flashlight pointed, otherwise it is a big black void. One cool thing is that the plankton which you can’t see during the day becomes photo active and makes thousands of tiny electrical flashes when you clap your hands or move your hands quickly through the water.

Our final two dives were the deep water dive and a dive where we had to identify species of fish. The Red Sea is a unique environment due to its higher salinity and warmer temperatures. Because of these two things and its relative isolation (due to the fact that it only connects to the Indian Ocean through a small channel down by Djibouti), there is a phenomenal amount and diversity of aquatic life. Since water from the Indian Ocean cannot go in or out easily and the temperature is so high during the summer, a significant portion of water evaporates each year which increases the amount of salt. The water level evens out each winter, but this is one of the reasons why it’s so nice to swim and dive in the Red Sea, you float. The higher temperature is due to the Great Rift Valley which starts way down in Kenya and ends up in Israel/Lebanon/Syria and goes right under the Red Sea. The Gulf of Aqaba is freakishly deep considering its size (several thousand feet in areas versus the Gulf of Suez which is only a couple hundred at most) and amazingly warm. The water is crystal clear and the temperature is the same at the surface as it is thousands of feet down.

Anyway, I digress. So our deep water diver took place at “the canyon” a famous (and quite crowded) site where there is a literal gash into the floor of the sea which drops down to about 100 feet below the surface. It was pretty cool because you were deep enough that certain colors start to disappear from the spectrum (red goes at this point). Once we were down in the canyon you could look up and see the sheer walls on either side of you that in some areas you could touch with both hands and then see the brilliant blue water above where it opened to the light. I was pretty tense about going so deep, but it was so beautiful that I quickly forgot. The one disadvantage of deep diving is that you go through your air much quicker than normal. I usually can get up to 30 minutes on a normal 10 liter tank, whereas on this dive I had a 15 liter tank and made it only 23 minutes.

Our final dive was at the infamous Blue Hole. If you do a Google search on this, you will read all kinds of terrifying things, most of which are true. There is basically a coral shelf all along the coast that starts at the shore and stretches out into the water up to 100 feet+ in some areas. When the coral stops in this area, there is a literally a 1500 foot drop straight down to the bottom of the sea. The blue hole is just that, a big hole 300 feet wide cut into the coral shelf which is about 330 feet deep. About 150 feet down there is a small tunnel which runs from the blue hole through the coral about 75 feet into the open sea. The problem is that a bunch of dumb ass people who are not trained properly and/or don’t have the proper equipment or air mixture attempt to swim the tunnel and die doing it. The Egyptian government admits upwards of 40 people have died here, but they estimate it’s probably several times that many. There is a memorial on one of the hillsides with plaques to the people who have died; it’s sobering to say the least. There really isn’t anything to see in the blue hole, so we started our dive not far from it at a place called the bells. This is a gash in the coral that starts at the surface and drops about 90 feet down before going under a coral bridge and then dropping you in the open water against the coral cliff. It’s so narrow that your tanks will sometimes hit the sides, hence the name “the bells.” I was pretty anxious but decided to go face first because at least then I could see where I was going. Once you exit the bells, it is really amazing and terrifying because on one side is this huge cliff teaming with fish and on the other is a vast blue nothingness. We swam diagonally up the cliff until we reached an area called the saddle which brings you from the cliff into the blue hole. It’s only about 10 or 15 feet below the surface and it is like something from Jacques Cousteau, thousands of soft and hard corals of every color imaginable covered with fish, definitely an awesome way to finish our trip.

So this is going on too long, but we did a couple other dive trips down to Sharm El Sheik and made it to Ras Mohammed which, aside from getting horribly seasick on the boat in choppy water, was amazing. We hit it just at the beginning of spawning season so there were large schools of fish arriving to the reefs. Although we didn’t see any hammerhead sharks or turtles, at one point I looked up and saw dozens of tuna (at least 6 feet long) hovering right above me. We also saw big-ass barracudas swimming around a ship wreak that was carrying toilets and bathtubs to the hotels being built in the area. The sea floor was covered with toilets, and people had gone down and arranged them like modern art installations, very funny to see.

As you see, I can go on and on about diving, but I won’t subject you to anymore of it. My last blog update on my time in the Middle East will be on my trip to Jerusalem and northern Israel.

Lame after-the-fact updates

2011-01-05T17:16:00.000+02:00

As most of you know, I actually left Egypt four months ago today. Before departing, I wrote, but never posted several blog updates. Not quite sure why I never got my act together to get them on my website, it wasn’t like I was overworked or anything. Nevertheless, before I start reporting on my new adventure in Botswana, I figured I should really close out my time in Egypt. There are several parts which I may break up into a few posts so it’s not too long. So here we go with biblical floods…

Torrential rains and the desert aren't two things that I think normally go together, but in keeping with the strange weather around the world, the Sinai had record amounts of rain and biggest floods in over 50+ years. Normally February is the "rainy" month, but we started with the never-ending and very annoying sand storms in the fall instead of the winter and the rain early in December. We had about three solid days of rain just after the New Year which didn’t seem like to big of a deal since we were not out doing missions, and I was holed up in my hooch.

I never really thought about it, but when you get rain in the desert, it really doesn’t have anywhere to go. Put that together with the “wadis” all over the Sinai which are basically dry valleys cut into the landscape during these rare events, and you have a big problem. Since these types of rains only happen once in a generation, people tend to forgot and build their homes and plant orchards right in the middle of the wadi (sounds very familiar to all those people in the Mississippi flood plain, hmmm…).

On the morning of the third day of rain, we heard that the flooding along the Israeli-Egyptian border was so bad that an Israeli Defense Force armored vehicle actually washed across the border into Egypt, and the two soldiers inside had to be rescued by the Egyptians soldiers. Funny when you think it was the first time the Israeli military crossed onto Egyptian territory since the peace treaty, but I guess it doesn’t count in this case. We heard that bridges had washed away on the Israeli side, that roads were closed all the way down to Sharm El Sheik, and that we were trapped on in north camp due to the flooding in nearby El Arish (with the only major road back to Cairo).

When the rain finally stopped on the fourth day, we decided to hop into the Blackhawk helicopters and get a birds-eye view of what was going on. As we flew westward down the coast of the Mediterranean towards El Arish I saw the ocean turned to a strange brown color with a significant amount of flotsam when were within a few kilometers of the city. We were all a bit perplexed until we got closer and realized that a “no longer dormant” wadi running through the middle of the city was now a raging river about 100 meters wide destroying everything in its path, including about 5 bridges, countless homes, and even several four story apartment buildings (there was video on YouTube of an actual building collapsing into the water). It was really shocking to see, and as we followed the wadi south, we saw that most of the roads in the area were totally destroyed. A river cut across one we regularly drove eroding the one side into a 10 foot waterfall. The destruction to the orchards was really heartbreaking to see. So many people depend on agriculture for their livelihood, and I’d guess thousands of olive and peach trees washed away into the sea.

To say that the Egyptian government was unprepared for destruction on such a vast scale is an understatement. They attempted to provide some displaced person camps (i.e. army tents) in some of the worse affected areas, but it was too little too late. Of course the Bedouins living out in the desert were the most affected, and since there isn’t any love lost between them and the Egyptians, the aid was even slower in coming than it would have been for a similar event west of the Suez Canal. As for the damage to infrastructure, I’d guess it will literally be years before things are back to the way they were, if they ever again.

St. Catherine and the Southern Sinai

2010-03-08T21:51:00.002+02:00

I'm not sure how I got so far behind with this blog. It started out so well, but as usual time has flown by and I've got a lot to catch you up on. I'll probably break it into at least a couple of updates so as not to have a ridiculously long one. So where to start…

I did qualify on my third and final mission area (St. Catherine's) back in December. The southern mission is four days long as opposed to the two day northern missions. Unlike the northern missions, we only get to drive through three times before having to "pass our test." Because there isn't too damn much of anything, particularly roads or people in the middle and south of the Sinai, the actual mission and driving part is much less complicated. Unfortunately on my final run through, the Director General from Rome (a Minister Counselor Ambassador) and my boss decided that they would like to tag along. It added a whole new level of stress to what should have been a relatively easy four days, as I was paranoid about making a mistake and looking like an idiot. All in all, one wrong turn aside, it went very well and since both the DG and my boss hadn't been through this area, we saw every single touristy thing there was to region.

The first day brings you diagonally across the peninsula towards the Gulf of Suez where we spend the night in a town called Ras Sudr. Unlike the Gulf of Aqaba side (facing Jordan and Saudi Arabia), the Gulf of Suez is completely surrounded by Egypt and is relatively shallow and peppered with oil drilling platforms. Perhaps due to the fact that it's a relatively easy drive from Cairo, this area is full of beachy resorts for Egyptians. They are a far cry from what's been built for the foreigners on the other side, and four stars here is very relative. We stay at the Royal Beach Resort which is a big sprawling place on the water that looks like it was built 20 years ago and nothing has been done to since. The rooms are kind of worn, musty, and depressing, and I actually bought one of those sleeping bag liners that you can slip into because I don’t entirely trust the cleanliness of the sheets. Every time I'm there I feel like it's the perfect setting for a Hollywood slasher movie: decaying resort; no other guests; very few staff lurking around; creepy pier; empty, dark, cavernous restaurant; bizarre 70's muzak pumped into scratchy speakers everywhere; psychopathic murderer on a rampage, etc.

The next day we continue down the gulf side stopping at the various mechanized infantry, armored, and artillery units. This particular time we made our first (of many) touristy non-mission stops at a placed called the "baths of the cursed pharaoh," (from the pharaoh who chased Moses out of Egypt and perished in the Red Sea). In typical Egyptian fashion, there is no indication of where to stop, and unless you have been there before, you'd drive right by it. That being said, it's hardly a top attraction in the Sinai, but is interesting and unexpected. It's basically a geothermal vent set into the hills right next to the gulf. Apparently people have been coming here for literally thousands of years for medicinal purposes and to cook eggs in the surf. You can smell the sulfur long before you see it, the sand is pitch black, and the water actually boils as it seeps out of the ground into the gulf. There are two entrances in the sheer stone cliffs; the upper is basically a dry sauna, the lower a five level steam room. You have to almost crawl to get in the "wet" section and each level down you go, the temperature rise 5 degrees centigrade. I've never been much of a spelunker, so needless to say, I didn't make it past the first level. Thankfully we were the only people there that day because I hear the combination of sulfur and smelly older Bedouins trying to help their rheumatism can be a bit overwhelming.

From there we cut in through the mountains on our way up to St. Catherine. It is a beautiful drive from this point on as you wind your way up through the desolate and jagged mountains passing small villages and oasis with groves of date palms. Right before entering the village, we headed cross country to see the "blue desert." which is located about a25 minutes drive through the sand back into a valley. In the early 80's some Belgian artist, with permission of President Sadat, went onto this remote plateau and painted it various shades of blue (apparently the color of peace). It took ten tons of paint and was probably pretty cool at the time because he did a random paint job from small rocks five feet tall to entire sides of the mountain. Obviously 30 years on, a large amount of the paint has begun to peel off. Nevertheless, it was worth a quick stop and photo op.

The village of St. Catherine sits nestled in a valley in the shadow of Mt. Sinai. Its livelihood is completely dependent on tourists who are either escaping the beaches of Sharm El Sheikh or are serious religious pilgrims doing a bible trek. I felt more than a bit biblically challenged because my only point of reference for this area was The Ten Commandments with Charlton Heston. That being said, Moses came here after being exiled for killing an Egyptian overseer, saw the burning bush where God told him to get back into Egypt and save the Israelites, parted the Red Sea, wandered around for 50 days, ate some manna, walked up to Mount Sinai, got the two tablets with the ten commandments (or three according to Mel Brooks), came down the hill and saw all the Israelites dancing around a golden calf, got pissed and broke the tablets, shattered the calf, and then they wandered around for a long time (40 years total) before finally making it into the promised land.

That being said, the monastery of St. Catherine's sits 5000 feet above sea level and is the oldest in the world, founded by the Byzantine emperor Justinian in A.D. 527. It's been an Eastern Rite monastery ever since and is currently run by the Greek Orthodox Church. At its peak, it had over 500 monks, now they have a paltry 20. It's a compound containing several chapels, a basilica, library, monks quarters, etc. surrounded by a huge wall that has been built and rebuilt over the centuries (even by Napoleon Bonapart). To say the place has an interesting history is an understatement, from the Prophet Mohammed himself ensuring the safety of the monks, through the crusades, to one of the oldest copies of the bible that was "borrowed" by an Austro-Hungarian scholar to copy, gifted to Tsar Alexander II by the Hapsburg court, discovered by the Bolsheviks after the Russian revolution and sold for 100,000 pounds to the British government and now sitting in the British Museum.

Even the story of St. Catherine herself is bizarre as only Catholic saint stories can be. She was from Alexandria, pestered the Roman emperor to convert until he finally sentenced her to death on a wheel. Miraculously her bonds loosened and the wheel broke. They decided to go with the tried and true beheading, and instead of blood, milk flowed from her veins. Five centuries later a monk had a vision of angels bringing her body to the summit of now Mount Catherine where she lay until they found her intact, smelling of myrrh. The story gets a little foggy here because eventually all that was entombed in the basilica was her head and hand. Not sure where the rest of her ended up.

Anyway, we decided to get up at 3:00 a.m. to hoof it to the top of Mount Sinai (3000+ feet above the Monastery) to see the sun rise. When we started out it was quite cold, very dark, and almost impossible to find the trail of long steep switch backs. I found myself moving a bit quicker than my three cohorts, so about three-quarters of the way up broke off on my own. Closer to the top I ran into hordes of Nigerian pilgrims singing, praising Jesus, and basically blocking my progress. I was able to eventually push past them and almost crawl the last 800 feet to the top just in time for the sun to peak over the surrounding mountains. It wasn't the full-on religious experience that so many others were having, but was quite awesome to witness. Needless to say, going down was a lot more pleasant in the light, and we even lingered over tea in little Bedouin rest-stops along the way.

The journey from St. Catherine to Nuweiba on the coast is remarkable in its diversity, starting in the mountains, moving through the high plains, to rolling hills of sand, to carved sandstone formations, and then ending in an incredibly treacherous drive through the steep canyon back to sea level. Right before entering the canyon, we made our last two stops at the Nawamis and the Rock of Inscription. The Rock of Inscription or "written stone" as the locals call is a large freestanding rock with writing in Nabatean, Greek, Roman, and Byzantine carved into it, basically a big pile of really old graffiti.

Across the road and again hidden a few kilometers back in between the hills is all that remains of the Nawami (Bedouin word for "flies") civilization, a series of about 25 perfectly round stone buildings with a door facing west. This was actually one of the more impressive things I've seen over here. They are kind of hard to describe, so I've attached a photo so you can see what they look like. No one really knows anything about these people although they estimate the buildings are from about 6000 B.C. (before the pyramids were even built). Anthropologists think the buildings are tombs, but no one knows for sure. They are just sitting out there, remarkably intact, like they have for thousands of years. It is amazing to me that nothing has been done to protect this site, but then maybe the reason it is so pristine is because very few people, other than Bedouin, even know how to find it. All in all, this lonely, sun-baked, and a little eerie site captivated me as much, or even more than some of the pharonic temples.

After a beautiful drive up the coast, our last night is spent in Taba Heights, a completely artificial group of resorts (Hyatt, Intercontinental, Sofitel, Club Med, and Marriott) that are jammed between the mountains and the sea. Granted, it is a nice break from the other sub-standard hotels we normally stay at, the gardens are beautiful, there are numerous restaurants to choose from, etc., but it feels to me like I'm on a big stationary cruise ship. Besides their trips to and from the airport, the Europeans who flock to Taba Heights to bake in the sun, never actually even leave the compound or experience any real Egyptian and/or Bedouin culture. Definitely not my cup of tea.

Even though I have more to bring you up to speed on: diving in the Red Sea, floods of biblical proportion, our Nile river cruise, and as of next week, my trip to Jerusalem, it'll have to wait as I am running out of steam right now.

Hope you are all well and that those of you in the northern hemisphere are beginning to get some spring weather.

Steve

Next Post and Cairo

2009-11-24T21:42:00.000+02:00

First of all, my big news is that I accepted a handshake offer for my next assignment after Egypt. I’ll be heading back to Sub-Saharan Africa, but this time to the US Embassy in Gaborone, Botswana. I’ll be honest, it wasn’t my first choice (Valetta, Malta), but I’m satisfied and relieved that the Department didn’t try to send me somewhere horrible like Vladivostok, Russia or Georgetown, Guyana (both of which had no bidders). Botswana is actually a very stable economically thriving democracy, something unusual for the continent. Granted Gaborone (Gabs) is not going to be the most exciting of cities, but it’s only about a four-plus hour drive from Johannesburg and about 45 minutes to Chobe National Park (for Safaris) so I’ll survive. For those of you who didn’t make it down to South Africa while I was there last time, you now have three years to plan your trip (which could/should include a stop in Capetown). You all know I love having visitors and Botswana has great game parks, so keep it in mind.

I don’t think I’ve written about my trip into Cairo, so I’ll do that before moving on to other less important/interesting things.

I was actually in Cairo about 6 years back, but other than an afternoon trip to the Giza plateau, spent my whole time sitting through a conference in a non-descript western hotel. The State Department always seems to do this; they fly us from all over the world to an exotic location and then trap us indoors the entire time. We might as well be sitting at a Marriott in Des Moines for all we know. Anyway, since the prospect of a long weekend at north camp didn’t overly thrill me, I decided to spend it in Cairo with the hope of getting a better feel for the city and learning how to show people around when they come to visit. I hoped in a taxi after our weekly staff meeting and literally flew across the Sinai to the peace bridge over the Suez Canal. To say that it was a harrowing ride is monumental understatement. I am somewhat accustomed to crazy driving after all the places I’ve been, but even I ended up just closing my eyes and holding on tight. That being said, we did make amazing time and were in the city within 3 hours. Of course the next two we sat in the infamous Cairo traffic hardly moving, but what can you do.

I decided to treat myself to Four Season hotel on the Nile and wow, what an amazing place. I felt somewhat out of my league and usually underdressed, but it is really easy to get used to such luxury and extravagance. From the over-the-top flowers filling the lobby, sumptuous rooms, elegant restaurants and lounge, to the solicitous staff, it was quite the experience. So much so that I really was tempted to just stay in the hotel and not even leave. But, antiquity was calling, so I arranged with the concierge to reserve a taxi to take me out to the pyramids at the far end of the pyramid field in Dahshur. Most people are just familiar with the big three at Giza, but there are lots of others lining the western banks of the Nile that go 20+ kilometers out of the city. My taxi driver swore he knew how to get to the Bent and Red Pyramids, but it became evident after our fifth stop to ask for directions that he was an idiot. We finally made it there, paid my entrance fee and made my first stop at the Red Pyramid, so called because of the red tones of the limestone used to clad it. It’s actually the oldest true pyramid in Egypt and bigger than the two of the three more famous ones at Giza. I had read in my book that tour groups seldom made it down this far, and true enough, I was the only person there other than the antiquity police and a few camels. It was pretty much hotter than hell and I stumbled in the sand checking out the exterior when the police told me the inside was open. I walked about a quarter of the way up one side and an weathered old man sitting at the entrance gave me an flashlight “in case the lights went out.” That didn’t inspire much confidence, but since I’d never been inside a pyramid decided to give it a go. The entrance is basically a 180 foot slanting tunnel that I hand to bend over so far that I could barely fit. They’ve built wooden slats on the floor to keep you from sliding down and bare light bulbs every so often give you enough light to partially see where you are going. Now I’ve never really been claustrophobic before, but let me tell you, 180 feet is a really long way down. By the time I got to the bottom, I was really beginning to wonder what I’d gotten myself into. The tunnel opened into a pretty spectacular ante-chamber with 30+ foot corbelled ceilings. They had some sort of ventilation system to bring fresh air into the interior, but I am not convinced it was working because the smell was getting pretty putrid at this point and I was huffing and puffing quite a bit. I walked up a rickety wooden staircase at the end to bring me into the actual burial chamber and by the time I got up there, the smell was really indescribable, about 4,000 years of stale air, mildew, bat guano, and the like. It actually burnt your throat and I was having difficult time breathing. So there I was, standing in this burial chamber all alone, gagging on what little air there was, and thinking about the tons of rocks overhead, and the unreliable Egyptian electrical infrastructure, when I worked myself into a full on moment of anxiety like none before. I scrambled out of the burial chamber, back through the ante-room and started up the long way to the entrance. If you can imagine, it was even harder to get up than down, and I ended up crawling part of the way. By the time I burst into the sunshine and 100 degree heat I was literally dripping wet and wondering what the hell had possessed me to do such a thing.

The slanted pyramid is a couple hundred meters away and is really unusual looking with a very steep angle on the lower 2/3’s, and then the more traditional angle the last third of the way up. Because of this, it actually still has most of its original limestone cladding (harder to steal like they did with all the other pyramids). It actually gives you an idea of what all the pyramids used to look like in their original state and it really is quite different than what we see today.

From this pyramid field I could see the famous Step Pyramid in Saqqara a few km away and thought since I was so close, it would be silly not make a quick stop. At the start of the day I had agreed to pay the taxi driver 200 Egyptian pounds, high-way robbery, but what can you expect from the Four Seasons . He of course spoke no English, so I called my friend Hossam on the phone and asked if he could talk to the driver and explain what I wanted. I could tell the conversation wasn’t going well when the driver started to scream and yell, slammed on the breaks, and stopped in the middle of the road. When I finally got the phone back, Hossam said the driver was mentally unbalanced and to be careful with him. After more shouting and erratic behavior, the driver finally agreed to take me to Saqqara.

We had to stop another five times for directions, and the entire way he mumbled under his breath and glared at me in the rear view mirror. Needless to say I was really beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable with the entire situation, but decided to just tough it out. We drove past the museum/visitor center up to the actual entrance to Saqqara, and when I went to pay my entrance fee, was told we had to return to the visitor center for tickets. I knew the driver would freak out, so I enlisted the help of a young guy working at the site to explain to the driver what we needed to do. When the young man went to talk to the driver, he flipped out all over again and started screaming and pounding the steering wheel. Next thing I knew, four antiquity police were on the scene and it quickly went downhill from there. I truly thought they were going to drag him out of the car and beat the shit out of him, and at this point would have cheered from the sidelines. This went on for over 10 minutes while a large crowd gathered to see what the fuss was about. When the driver finally took me down to get a ticket , I called the hotel to tell them what was going on. They were very sympathetic and advised me not to get back into the car, pay him half the agreed money, send him on his way, and they would dispatch a hotel car for me. I had another nice young guy working in the café give the news to the driver, and when he returned, he also said the guy was crazy. At this point the head of the antiquity police for the entire area arrived to speak with me, apologize, and ask if I’d like to file and official report against the driver. The officials were actually very nice and clearly embarrassed by what happened, but I declined. About 30 min later the hotel driver arrived and took me back up to see the pyramids. I did a cursory visit to the Step Pyramid, constructed over 4600 years ago and credited with being the first real example of architecture as we know it. It’s part of a huge funerary complex with lots to see, but I had lost all enthusiasm by this point and just wanted to go hide in my nice big hotel room.

That night I was supposed to meet up with my friend Hossam, but his dog decided to eat an entire chicken carcass, and he was stuck at the vet while his dog had emergency surgery. I ventured out on my own and decided to walk down around the main section of town along the Nile towards the Egyptian Museum. I was there during Ramadan, and since no one can eat or drink until the sun sets, evening is quite a busy time with people gorging themselves all over town at Iftar celebrations. My hotel faced the Nile, but one of the main roads sits in between it and the river. It’s theoretically about four lanes, but there are usually about five or six cars jockeying for position. Now Cairo, a city of over 15 million inhabitants, does have a few stop lights and cross walks, but none appear to be operational. I later asked Hossam what the deal is, and he said, even if they worked, no one would pay any attentions, so why bother fixing them. That’s all good and well, but after standing there for 15 minutes waiting for a break in the traffic to cross the street, I was beginning to lose patience. Finally one the hotel doormen took pity on me and came over to help. His advice was to look straight ahead and just walk, not to hesitate, not to look at the oncoming traffic, or try to avoid cars, etc., or it wouldn’t work. I couldn’t believe that was his solution, but I took a leap of faith and amazingly enough, I made it across. The center of the city is just so chaotic and crowded that I really didn’t know what to do with myself. I’m rarely intimidated by a place, but Cairo is just so daunting that I can barely manage it.

The next day I met up with Hossam and went into old Islamic section of town. It’s not named that because it was any more or less religious than any other section, but because for centuries it was the center of power in the Islamic world. We started at a famous 16th century home most recently owned by an English Major who was a big collector (some might say thief) of Egyptian and regional antiques. When he died in the late 40’s, he bequeathed his entire collection to the Egyptian government and it’s now a museum. One room in particular was even used as a set for The Spy who Loved Me. After that, we headed next store to one of the largest, oldest, and more important mosques in the area whose name I can’t remember because they all sound alike. You literally cannot throw a stone in this area without hitting some medieval mosque. The area is a maze of the narrow crooked streets teaming with people and animals. Thankfully there are spice and perfume stores here and there to help take the edge off some of the more unpleasant smells. All-in-all, it’s really disorienting area and more than a little intimidating. It wasn’t that I felt threatened or people were outright hostile, but this is truly a different world and some of the people harbor less than friendly feelings towards westerners and Americans in particular. So much so, that the MFO has decreed that the entire area is off limits for us during Friday afternoon prayers.

We wondered around and eventually made our way over to the Khan Al-Khalili (old market turned big tourist trap). It’s basically a variation on a theme from the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul or Medina in Tunis; a few nice things mixed in with lots of crap, hordes of aggressive stall owners trying to lure you into their establishment, and lots of place to sip on tea or Karkadai (a tasty hot or cold drink made from boiling dried hibiscus flowers). After I had exhausted my gift buying impulses, we headed to an authentic Egyptian restaurant for a delicious dinner. It was before sunset, so Hossam was the only Egyptian there. I asked him if he was uncomfortable, but he’s about as secular as they come and couldn’t care less. The Muslim Brotherhood has forced a very conservative dogmatic type of Islam into many parts of the country, and Egyptians seen eating or drinking during Ramadan can really be harassed or even arrested. There is a sizable Coptic Christian population throughout the country, and they have to be prepared to show their crosses around their necks, or some even get tattooed to avoid problems. Every day more and more women start to wear the head scarves or cover themselves completely in the Burka. You even see little girls completely covered, whereas in the past, this only happened after puberty. The main Imam in Cairo came out recently criticizing this growing trend, saying there is nothing in Islam supporting this, that it was a cultural, not religious practice that should be stopped. He went on to say that the Koran requires both sexes to dress modestly, not just women. It was quite a courageous and progressive statement, and one that will likely get him in lots of hot water with the more conservative elements of society.

Okay, once again, way too long of an update so I’ll end it here for now. I had some other things to write about, but they can wait until next time. For those of you in the US, have a nice and safe Thanksgiving holiday!

The Nabataeans

2009-11-03T22:28:00.000+02:00

As promised, this is the “all things Nabataean” update. Now if you had asked me prior to my arrival in Egypt who the Nabataeans were, I would have been hard pressed to tell you a single thing. I might have come up with the fact they were some ancient people, but that would be about it. They were in fact an ancient Semitic people who primarily inhabited the area in Syria, Jordan, and Israel. If you’ve heard of the Spice Route, these are the people. They had a series of trade routes which were centered around oases. It sounds like they started out by just attacking and stealing from caravans and eventually moved into the more lucrative “protective services” business. There weren’t any definitive borders and not too much is actually known about them. Like everyone else in the region, they were eventually conquered by Trajan, absorbed into the Roman Empire, and anything unique about them was pretty much lost into the mix. I’m not completely sure of the dates for all this activity, but I’m thinking it was like a few hundred years BCE to a couple hundred years AD.

So, my first brush with the Nabataea’s (or what remains of them) was on a trip back from Tel Aviv one Saturday afternoon. My colleague Erin asked if we could stop by some ruins about 10km from the border of Egypt. Far be it from me to pass up a photo op with ancient rubble, so in the midst of the first sand storm of the season we pulled into the ancient city of Shivta in the Negev Desert. It’s generally accepted that this was originally a Nabataean city which later became a Byzantine settlement (probably for pilgrims on their way to St. Catherine's Monastary in the Sinai.) What’s left is primarily Byzantine era and consists of piles of rocks, the remnants of three churches, elaborate irrigation systems, cisterns, grape presses, and lots and lots of sand. It’s part of the Israeli National Park system and on this particularly sandy day, we were the only ones there. My expectations were pretty low, but I was pleasantly surprised by how interesting and big it was. I’ve included a few pics on this page so you can get a basic idea of what it looks like now. It continually amazes me that people could eke out an existence in such an inhospitable environment, but from what I’ve read, it wasn’t quite as dry here a couple thousand years back.

My next exposure to Nabataean culture was more calculated with a long weekend in Jordan at what is considered their ancient capital of Petra. Ever since I saw it in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade Petra has been on my “must see” list, so I am pretty psyched to finally make it there. Even though it’s actually not that far away, getting there, like doing most things in this part of the world is complicated and takes forever. Instead of just heading due east, a group of six of us drove down to Taba on the Red Sea, left our cars at a MFO outpost, took a taxi to the border, walked into Israel, spent the night in Eilat, took another taxi to the border, walked into Aqaba, Jordan, and then had the hotel car drive us two+ hours back north. It is a beautiful and desolate drive up from Aqaba and according to the driver, was where they filmed lots of scenes for Lawrence of Arabia (don’t know if this is true or not, but seems plausible).

The city of Petra itself is pretty nondescript and perched on the side of a mountain down into the valley. It’s full of narrow crowded streets that either cling to the edge or are frighteningly steep. We stayed at the Petra Moon hotel, a very “basic” place directly across the street from the uber-glamorous Movenpick hotel that looks like it’s straight out of the pages of Architectural Digest. Believe me, if I ever go back, screw economy, that’s where I’ll be staying. Nevertheless, it was a fantastic location and we basically dumped our things and headed out to the old city. It’s spread out over a fairly large area so you could spend days and days seeing everything. Since we only had two days to take in as much as possible, we had a tentative route planned. After wolfing down a surprisingly tasty Jordanian lunch, we decided to work our way into the main valley through a fairly high walled gorge that at times was so narrow and steep you had to squeeze yourself through. The whole area is full of sandstone and it ranges in color from pinkish to marbleized reds, tans, blacks, etc. It’s so beautiful in areas that it almost looks like it has been painted (especially at sunset). Anyway, after a couple hour trek through the gorge we started running across the first carvings into the stone. The whole “city” is a series of hundreds of tombs and public buildings that were carved into the sheer cliffs of the valley. The actual houses and day-to-day buildings are long gone as they were mostly in tent-like structures. The tombs range from the very simple big square holes carved near ground level to elaborate Romanesque and neoclassical ones carved 50+ feet off the ground complete with columns, pediments, balustrades, etc. They are long since looted and nothing remains inside except centuries of soot from fires from the Bedouins built in them. Some of them are massive inside with several rooms, ceilings 20+ feet tall, niches for who knows what, and alter-like structures. It was amazing to me that they were able to carve these with such precision that the walls and ceiling are all smooth and meet at 90 degree angles.

Anyway, after about four hours of scrambling over rocks and up and down fairly large hills, we called it a day and went back, showered all the sand off, and met at a bar which was actually inside an old tomb. They refer to it as the oldest bar in the world since the tomb itself is upwards of 2000 years old. It was so atmospheric; all candle lit, low tables, great music, shisha pipes burning. A great way to end the day.

The next morning, we followed the main drag into the city called the Siq. In Petra’s heyday, this was the ceremonial route. Since we are talking pre-Islam and the Nabataeans were polytheistic, the priests used this path during religious ceremonies. It’s in a natural gorge also, but they carved parts of it away to increase its size and grandeur. The Siq dramatically ends at the Treasury building (think Indiana Jones or the Transformers). After a couple more hours running up and down hills, we decided to take it easy and rent donkeys to take us up to the monastery. Of course you can do tea stops many places along the way and there are Bedouins with little shops set up everywhere to sell you junk, but they are not nearly as aggressive as in Egypt. Actually overall I found the Jordanians to be quite pleasant.

Since people have been living in the valley for thousands of years, there is a lot of stuff that has been lost/thrown away over the years. It seems that the locals have an industry built up on digging in the sand and trying to find anything of value. Most of them will readily admit that most of the crap they sell is made in India or China, but they do have small stashes of Roman coins, jewelry, ceramics, and other things for a hefty price. When we were in a relatively desolate area, an old man on a donkey stopped us to show us his wares and after some time and negotiation, Jim bought a coin and I got a small bronze bird. Jim has quite a collection of ancient coins and is certain this one was actually authentic. He also believed the man about my bird. It is very small and worn with no visible signs of modern casting like the other mass produced stuff had. The other things that make us believe it may be real, is that we did not see one other item like it anywhere else in two days of stopping at stalls and stores. Furthermore, in a small museum, they had displays with similar type objects. Regardless, I think it’s cool, and if it is a couple thousand years old, all the better.

Even with taking the donkeys, we were still pretty beat and opted for a camel ride out of the city that afternoon. I’ve been on camels before, and they are seriously cranky animals. This time however, the guide actually told us how to sit on them properly, and it ended up being fairly comfortable. That evening we all went to a Turkish bath for a steam, massage, and scrub. And other than nailing my head on a low door and bleeding profusely for an hour, it was a perfect way to end our journey.
One last thing, what brought about the decline of Petra? Well Roman rule combined with sea-based trade routes pretty much did the city in, but a serious earthquake in the 4th century was the final nail on the coffin. The city pretty much disappeared from memory and was just inhabited by local Bedouin until the 19th century when Europeans re-discovered it. It’s now a UNESCO world heritage site and was voted one of the new Seven Wonders of the World in 1997.

Tel Aviv

2009-10-25T21:15:00.001+02:00

So I've discovered that Tel Aviv is going to be my secret to sanity in the Northern Sinai. If we gobble some lunch down after our morning staff meeting on Thursday and hit the road by 11:30/12:00ish, we are able to beat the traffic and be in the city by mid to late afternoon. It’s a pretty easy drive and even crossing the border into Israel is relatively painless all things considered.

We do make one stop (both on the way and back) to get these hot dogs at a gas station. I know, eating mystery sausages off of the rollers is something I swore I'd never do, but these are so damn good, you literally have to fight off other people to make sure you get one. They are like 10+ inches, covered in sauerkraut and mustard, nestled in a nice chewy bun. Yum…

Anyway, Tel Aviv is not technically the capital of Israel (Jerusalem is), but it is by far the largest city in the country with a population of over 3 million (including the city proper, Jaffa south of town, and the northern suburbs). It is the economic and cultural hub of the country and at last count the 17th most expensive city in the world to live in.

It fairly new city, founded in 1909 which merged with the much older (and primarily Palestinian) Jaffa in 1950. Given it's location, you'd be right in assuming it's had a rather tumultuous past, from it's time under British mandate, to problems with Palestinian neighbors, to the more recent spate of suicide bombings through the 90's and early 2000's.

You'd never look at it and say it's a beautiful city. Most of it looks like it lacked some serious zoning laws over the years, and you have tall modern buildings right in the middle of residential areas, and the like. I wouldn't even say there is much of architectural significance either. Most building are rather boxy and run down, although apparently they have great areas of Bauhaus architecture. I don't know too much about this other than to say it came out of the German Modernist movement. To be honest, it just looks kind of like the other boxy 60's looking buildings, although I'm sure someone more tuned in would find certain areas of the city very interesting.

What it does have going for it is am amazing location with gorgeous beaches, enviable weather, and an infectiously hip cosmopolitan vibe. It really feels like a European city filled with cafes, bars, upscale shopping, outdoor markets, and did I mention the fantastic beaches? I don't know if it is because I'm going to TA from an area that looks exactly the same today as it did hundreds of years ago (minus the Toyota pickup trucks), but we all tend to breath a sigh of relief when we get into the city.

We get a good rate on a simple hotel right in the center a couple blocks off the Mediterranean which gives us good walking access to pretty much everything. My weekend usually consists of a couple of good meals, lounging on the beach, getting a massage, a movie if anything is playing, some shopping, and a night on the town. Doesn't sound too terribly exciting, but believe me, it is a nice change from sitting in my hooch and eating at the mess hall.

Last time I was there, I hit the craft market in the old part of town. It was pretty much like every other craft (crap) market I've been to, but what was cool was I saw several groups playing music on corners. And I don't mean half-assed performers with accordions, these were groups of 3-5 older men playing classical music. They were all fantastic musicians and seemed to be really enjoying themselves. While I was watching them, I couldn't help but thinking about how they were probably all in Europe during the war and were the lucky ones to actually survive and make it down here afterwards. Speaking of which, it is an incredibly diverse population here. The majority of the people I've met are at least 2nd generation Israeli, but their families come from all over the place, Morocco, Europe, India, etc. Oh yeah and I can't forget the Russians, they are omnipresent. Just when I thought I'd left them behind, I run into them everywhere in Israel and on the Red Sea and Egypt…

It was a beautiful warm night when later that day I went over to Rothschild Blvd., a nice area with bars, restaurants, and the like. I happened to stumble upon a really good jazz band who was setting up for a street gig. There were about 8 young guys in the group which included drums, guitars, bass, sax, trumpet, trombone, and a singer. They were really talented and eventually drew a huge crowd of people to listen. It was so nice and relaxing and a great change of pace from my normal weekend activities.

Since Shabbat is on Saturday and most everything is closed, we usually meet back up for breakfast on the beach and then catch some rays before heading back to Egypt in the early afternoon. Israeli breakfast is unusual, but I've grown to like it quite a bit. You usually get some sort of cooked egg and then numerous little dishes filled with things like olives, tuna salad, "Israeli salad" (finely chopped tomatoes and cucumbers), a salty goat-like cheese, cottage cheese with fresh dill and garlic, nice bread, etc., very healthy.

So, I'll end this here for now. Next update, you'll learn more about the Nabateans than you ever thought necessary and my trip to Petra, Jordan.

2nd email from the Sinai

2009-10-10T15:10:00.000+02:00

Hi Everyone,

I'm a bit behind on my emails and have a lot to catch you up on. If it gets too long, I might split it into two. So now that I've been here two months, I'll try to give you a little better idea of what the Multinational Force and Observers is and what/why we are here in Egypt, day to day life on a military base in the middle of nowhere, and what my job entails.

So here’s the background, you can skip this part if you find it too boring. The MFO came out of the Camp David Peace Treaty between Israel and Egypt (1979) after the war. Which war you may ask, since there have been so many in this region. Not the 6-day war between Israel and pretty much everyone else in 1967, but the Yom Kippur war in 1973 when Egypt and Syria attacked Israel in an attempt to take back territory lost in the earlier conflict. It wasn't as humiliating a defeat for Egypt this time around and paved the way for the Egypt-Israeli Peace Treaty and the eventual recognition of Israel's existence by the first Muslim nation (Egypt).

So during the treaty negotiations, all parties agreed to an international force presence in the Sinai to help monitor treaty terms. It was assumed that the UN would occupy this role, but the Soviet Union threatened to use their veto power on the Security Council. Hence the MFO was born and in 1982 began their mission in the Sinai. Since then 17 countries contribute either money or troops to support the mission. Right now there are 11 countries with about 1800 troops in either North or South Camp, they are: United States (~700), Columbia (~300), Fiji (~300), Uruguay, Canada, Norway, Australia, New Zealand, France, Italy, and Hungary.

The Sinai was divided into three zones and one additional zone is located along the international border in Israel. MFO soldiers are only allowed to operate in Zone C, the closest to Israel in the Sinai. There are lots of outposts, security check points, and the like throughout this area. The Civilian Observer Unit, which I'm part of, is authorized to work in all four zones. There are 16 of us in the unit, five from the State Department, and the rest are retired military officers. Our job is to basically ensure that both parties are complying with terms of the treaty. In short, we count tanks, armored personnel carriers, artillery, and troops in all four zones. I also have to be able to tell the difference between a T-55 and an M-109 tank, self propelled artillery and tanks, the different sizes of artillery pieces, etc. It’s very confusing to say the least. We are required to do this two times per month, so one week we do an aerial reconnaissance of all areas and the second week we get into monstrous suburbans and drive. If we find that something isn't where it should be, we report it back up the chain of command to Rome (MFO headquarters), and if all the attorneys agree, the party in question can receive a violation.

So the question is, why the hell are we still here after 27 years? The reality is, this is the only long term successful peace keeping mission in the entire world. Furthermore, the amount of money it costs the US Government is chump change compared to our other expenses. Finally, the fact the there have been no hostilities between Israel and Egypt in over 30 years sort of justifies its existence.

So enough background, but I thought it's important to have some context. I might have already told you some of this, so bear with me if I have. North Camp is located in North-east Egypt about 7ish miles from the Gaza Strip and the same distance from the Mediterranean Sea. If you get out a map and find a small place called El Gorah, you've found us. South Camp is on the Red Sea coast right outside of Sharm El Sheik. My home is North Camp, surrounded by sand dunes, Bedouins, their camels and goats, and a lot of garbage floating around. Camp is a typical military installation with a bit more security (two layers of fencing and concertina wire, guard towers, etc.) You can literally stand at one end of camp and see to the other side. We have the only forest in the whole Sinai which is full of jackals, owls, freakishly large hares, and other critters. It’s pretty cool to sit outside in the evening and listen to the jackals yelp and bark at each other. They sound almost like small children, very strange. Depending on your rank, you live in either a small one story house (Major and above), a single hooch (me), a shared double hooch, or barracks. Most of the barracks are just long buildings with a hall down the center and lots of bedrooms off both sides and a crappy shared bathroom. The Fijians and Columbians have three story ones that look a bit like the old inner city tenements.

Each of the contingents has their own bar and many have an unofficial "patios" where they have parties. Beers and mixed drinks are one (1) dollar, so it could be easy to become a total lush. There are all kinds of goofy theme nights like the Kiwi gangster night, the French white party, jungle night, etc. They can be…fun isn't quite the right word…mildly amusing might be closer. The Fijians and Columbians are forbidden from drinking because apparently they get into all kinds of trouble when they do. The Fijians really amuse me. They are like big kids always whopping it up, belly laughing, goofing around, etc. But if you put a drink in them, its apparently like Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. An example was about a month ago when two Fijians went into Cairo, hit the booze, got into a fight with two Kenyan nationals and literally beat one to death with their bare hands. Needless to say, they were both whisked home straight away. We also had our first murder on base right after I got here when one of the Columbian front gate guards shot another Columbian in the leg and ass and he bled out en route to the hospital in Israel. Apparently the Columbian was being bullied by his fellow soldiers prior to this event. The next week, a Fijian at one of the outposts, just walked off in the middle of the night into the desert. No one knew where he went, but he had his weapon and walked through a mine field. They started a massive search and rescue mission and eventually found him. He also was being harassed by colleagues and had had enough. It’s amazing this kind of behavior is tolerated, but the Force Commander has really landed hard on the leadership here to crack down on bullying.

So anyway, I got a bit sidetracked. I'm not sure why, but we tend to hang out with the aviators and the EOD (explosive ordinance disposal) guys more than anyone else. I'm trying my best to be social with other contingents. With the Kiwis and Aussi's it's not too hard, but otherwise, people do tend to stick with each other. My first week in the dining hall, I was told who sat at which tables and what time they usually came to eat. When I asked what would happen if I went over and sat at the Canadian's table, I was told, that just doesn't happen. I felt like I was back in high school all over again. Since I mentioned the dining facility, I might as well tell you about the food. For some unknown reason, they choose to employ Brits contractors as the cooks (and Italians as the sailors). We've all agreed they got it totally backwards, but we're stuck with it. Since there are so many different groups and preferences here, they really do try to make food that appeals to everyone. Generally speaking it's not bad and occasionally you find something tasty. However, more often than not, it's just kind of blah, over cooked, under seasoned, greasy, etc. That being said, it is still too easy to be a total pig and have a big greasy breakfast, two other dinner sized meals, desserts, etc. It looks like a lot of people gain weight here, but I'm determined not to. I've allowed myself only two deserts per week and am starting to skip Tuesday make your own pizza night.

Speaking of which, besides the bars/patios, they have all kinds of other activities to keep people occupied, i.e. bingo, quiz night, all kinds of sports teams, Texas hold-em poker, etc. The first night I went to bingo I won a whopping $620 (a record). I was basically afraid to walk home alone or show my face the next week, but since then haven't won a damn thing so everyone has stopped harassing me. We also have a great library with tons of DVD's and books. The problem is, no one (except us in the COU) has the ability to get off base very often and it can be a bit stifling after a while. They used to be much more lenient, but there have been three attempted suicide or IED attacks against the MFO in the last five years and our security posture has increased proportionately. It's a shame because you used to be able to go to the beach on weekends, go into El Arish, etc. and now you can’t anymore.

I think I mentioned that there are six areas that my unit keeps an eye on, five in Egypt and one in Israel. I am required to be certified on three of those, which means I can run the whole mission by myself and train new people on it. I’ve started out with the D-15 Israeli mission and one of the Northern Sinai missions. They both take two days for the verification part, and after I’m certified (in 2 weeks), I’ll start learning the four day St. Catherine’s mission in the south. For the D-15, we do the reconnaissance in the Blackhawk helicopters. Prior to coming here, I’d never been in a helicopter and let me tell you, they are so fun to ride in. We take off from north camp, hop across the border where we pick up our Israeli Defense Forces officer, fly up to about 5 km away from the Gaza Strip (any closer and the bad guys could shoot surface to air missiles at us), go all the way down the international border line to the city of Eilat on the Gulf of Aqaba, refuel at the airport, and then head back. The whole thing takes about 3.5 hours usually. My favorite part is taking off from Israel on our way back to Egypt. Since we are sitting right at the border, they take the helicopter straight up about 1,500 feet, hover there until they get clearance to cross and then the nose tips forward and we tear off to North Camp, it’s so very cool.

The verification mission is basically the same thing but driving and it takes the entire day to get to Eilat. We spend the night in an overpriced hotel, eat a good meal, and then head back the next day. The drive itself is really interesting and a bit treacherous at times. The typography goes from flat desert to high desert plains, to hills/mountains that reach up to about 3,500 feet. The mountains are amazingly beautiful in their own desolate, dry way. Most of them look like piles of rubble with no discernable peaks, but in the middle of all the sandy colored hills, there will be a completely red or black one. The roads twist and turn up the sides of these hills and since it’s mostly a military road used to get to the border outposts, it is narrow, in bad condition, and lacking any guardrails. The first time I drove it, it was nerve racking to say the least. When you get close to Eilat, you hit these really jagged mountains that line both sides of the valley (the other side is in Jordan) and have to do this really steep descent to get to the water. It’s one of the more beautiful drives I’ve been on. Eilat is a major Israeli tourist trap. It’s a small piece of coast line on the Gulf shared with Jordan, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia. It’s always hot and with the constant wind blowing it feels like someone is following you around with a hairdryer. The first time I was there, at 8:00 p.m. the temp was still 40 degrees centigrade (about 105 Fahrenheit). Amazingly enough, the water is very cool, but the beaches aren’t too nice, mostly small rocks. The entire gulf all the way down to the Red Sea is very popular for scuba divers (because of all the coral reefs and shipwrecks) so there are lots of schools and diving resorts.

The Northern Egypt mission I’m doing is quite a bit different. First of all we fly in a French Casa fixed wing aircraft. It’s a smallish troop transport plane that seats about 40. It is pretty nasty to fly in and at least one person (usually the Egyptian officer) gets sick on each flight. When you are doing your particular zones, you get to sit on a jump seat up in the cockpit between the two pilots. It’s pretty cool, because you fly at usually about 500 feet and have a great view. The problem arises when you have to go back into the plane and sit for another hour plus. I use those little pressure point wrist bands, homeopathic medicine, my noise cancellation headphones and usually lie down but still have to consciously try not to get ill. For the verification part, we spend the entire two days winding around stopping at dozens of small military installations (ammunition supply points, armored battalions, mechanized infantry battalions, artillery battalions, etc.). To say that the area we are in is desolate is a monumental understatement. You can drive for more than an hour and see nothing but undulating sand dunes and the occasional deserted Israeli bunker complex. It really is beautiful in its own way, but yikes, I can’t imagine having to live out there. The military units are really shoddy operations usually. A few guys in some run-down buildings, usually no electricity and it looks like inadequate food and water supplies. You wonder who they pissed off to land themselves out there. Some of the tanks they have are literally from the last world war, and it’s hard to believe it still even functions.

We always have an Egyptian Military Liason Officer with us and one shooter (guys with an AK-47). The danger isn’t necessarily terrorists in this area, but the Egyptian Government and the local Bedouin population pretty much hate each other. One week the Bedouin will raid a place and try to steal supplies and kill a police officer and the next week the police will kill two to three times as many Bedouin in retaliation. It’s a pretty bad situation with no real end in sight. The Bedouin have been here forever and basically do not recognize any government as legitimate. They have been neutral in all regional conflicts and just want to keep living the way they have for hundreds of years. The Egyptians look down on them as basically sub-human and do not really give them adequate access to education, healthcare and the like. Since they are forced to eke out a meager existence, they can grow olives, peaches, or the big cash crop, hashish.

My biggest problem is remembering where in the hell you need to go and how to find all the places you need to see. Without identifiable landmarks, it is a real pain. We have GPS, satellite tracking systems, VHF & HF radios, and satellite phones to help us if we get lost or have problems, but it is still a challenge.

The other problem is land mines. I had no idea prior to coming here, but the Sinai is one of the most heavily mined areas in the world. In the C Zone alone, they estimate there are over 5 million unexploded mines. The really have no idea how many are in the rest of the Sinai, but besides the Israeli and Egyptian mines, they know that they go all the way back to when the British were here. One of the problems with mines in this area is that they tend to not degrade very quickly because of the lack of humidity and rain. So a mine laid 50 years ago can still function quite well. The other problem is that when the wind blows, sand shifts, and with the sand, move the mines. Road here are constantly covered with sand drifts and we are told under no circumstances are we to drive over sand unless there are recent tire tracks already on it. The windy season is starting now, and in the past they have to skip entire portions of the mission because of massive sand drifts. There are some areas that are clearly marked by the Egyptians as heavily mined, and let me tell you, driving on a narrow road with barbed wire fences on both sides warning of mines, over sand drifts is more than a bit stressful. In the past, the Bedouin (in the C Zone) would find mines and sit them on the side of the road for our EOD guys to collect and dispose of. Since the Gaza situation heated up, they found that they can sell them on the black market and make some money. Luckily we’ve never had anyone killed by them, but some dumb ass Columbians detonated one while they were doing donuts in their truck outside their outpost in a known minefield, talk about the Darwin award).

So along with having to quickly come up to speed on all things military, we had a training week were we learned combat first aid, how to drive a fully armored vehicle, and did a firearms familiarization course. First of all, the only gun I have ever fired was an old rife at Boy Scout camp 25 years ago. When they handed me a 9 mm pistol, an M-4 assault rifle, and an AK-47, it was just a bit intimidating. I had very mixed feelings about the whole thing, but in a way, if we did have any trouble out of the road and our shooters were not able to help us, it is nice to at least be able take the safety off and defend yourself. We learned out to take apart all the guns, the safety features, and then all went out to the range were we got to fire about 70 rounds from them. It was also the first time I had to wear my body armor, and it really cumbersome and hot. I don’t know how our soldiers in Iraq basically live in them. I was very nervous at first, but all in all wasn’t too bad of a shot. On the 25 meter range, 62 of my bullets actually hit the black part of the target. I was the only person there to have never fired a real gun and everyone said I did amazingly well considering. There is some discussion about how often we will do this and whether or not we should actually become qualified to carry weapons on some missions. Not overly thrilled with that prospect, but it’s not my call.

Since this is now well into the fourth page, I’m going stop now and write a separate email about my trips to Tel Aviv, Petra (in Jordan), Cairo, and a few ancient city sites we’ve gone to. I would love to be able to include pictures from my travels around the area, but we are strictly forbidden from taking any photographs while on mission or traveling in an MFO vehicle. So much so, that if the Force Commander finds out, he can send us home. I’m trying to figure out how to start my own blog on the internet, so the next time I write an email, I’ll post it there and just provide you the link. Hope you are all well and enjoying your fall (or spring). Take care,

Steve

First email from the Sinai

2009-10-10T15:09:00.000+02:00

12 August 2009

Since I promised my family to be a better communicator than I was the later part of my stay in Russia, I figured five days in to my new assignment would be a good place to start and give you some of my initial impressions. Let's see, the flights over to Egypt were pretty uneventful. My "business class" ticket on Egypt Air was just what I expected it to be, crappy. I don't think they had upgraded the interior of the plane in at least 15 years so it was the old uncomfortable seats and really tacky looking. But before I complain too much, I could have been jammed into economy like cattle. I managed to sleep over half the way, so when we arrived in Egypt, I was not suffering too much (unlike my recent trip to Ireland). It has been about six years since I was in Egypt and it looked pretty much exactly as I remembered it on arrival, lots of sand and dozens of old (hopefully retired) planes sitting around the airport grounds covered in dust. I lucked out and was able to use the brand spanking new terminal which had just opened two weeks prior and it was truly a huge improvement over the old dilapidated one. For anyone considering a trip over, you wont have immediate culture shock upon arrival now (just when you walk out the main entrance).
I had someone from the immigration service to meet me, help me get my luggage, whisk me through customs and deliver me to a driver from the hotel. I stayed at a decent sized place about 15 minutes from the airpor in a part of Cairo called Heliopolis. I had forgotten how hectic it is driving in Cairo and am glad I will never have to do it. They say Cairo's traffic and driving is the worst in the world and after a brief 15 minutes I tend to agree. Even the traffic in Dhaka seemed to have some orderly chaos, in Cairo its just a mass of cars on unlined streets, in no particular order, following no evident rules, belching out exhaust, honking horns, and cutting each other off any chance they can. After watching the road the first few minutes, I decided the best solution was just not to look.

So back to the hotel, if you've never been in the Arab world it's hard to describe how they tend to overdo everything. You can't just have a nicely appointed hotel lobby, 90% of it must be gilded and there must be a local in indigenous dress to grovel upon your arrival. You also have the slightly disconcerting fact that any time you enter public buildings in Egypt you have police (tourist police in hotels) and the ubiquitous metal detectors. An unpleasant reminder of where you exactly are. So I freshened up, took a short nap and then connected with my friend Hossam. He and I met on my last visit to Cairo and ended up meeting in Malaysia for a vacation way back then. We've kept in touch and he met me at the hotel for a drink and then took me out for an authentic Egyptian meal at probably the largest shopping mall I have ever seen bar none. But before I get to the dinner/mall, I have to tell you a bit about the people (or at least my observations). Now granted this was a fairly nice hotel, so certainly isn't indicative of the average Egyptian, but it one again amazed me the number of women who wore not only the hijab (head covering), but the burka, while managing to show how much money they had, i.e. big honking diamond rings over their long black gloves, Dolce & Gabbona sunglasses over their full face covering, elaborately embroidered and/or beaded scarves. etc.

While Hossam and I were sitting their having a beer, there was a huge wedding reception of a clearly well-heeled conservative family. They had the whole lobby decked out with garish lights and white flowers and just as the bride and groom came down the stairs, a "band" of about 12 men dressed in long white robes and turbans with traditional drums and horn-like instruments played loud music and sang while the guests crowded around and just stared at them and took pictures for like 15-20 minutes. The bride was actually very pretty in her long white dress, long gloves, and head scarf. Hossam later told me that that night both sets of parents would wait outside their bridal suite while they sealed the deal waiting for the bed sheet as evidence of her purity. I was pretty appalled and asked what would happen if it didn't confirm she'd been a good girl, and he told me there had been some very high profile divorces for this very reason. I clearly have a long way to go in understanding the culture…

So anyway, I hung around the pool the next morning waiting for my bus to take off for north camp. It was so blindingly sunny and hot that I could not sit outside for more than like 15 minutes, a bad sign of things to come. The bus ride out was relatively uneventful. It takes about five hours to get to North Camp from Cairo and it takes you north of the city and then up to the Peace Bridge across the Suez Canal. It was constructed in partnership with the Japanese and it is really an impressive massive bridge in the middle of nowhere. The size of ships moving up and down the canal necessitate such a huge bridge, but it is really shocking when you see it in the distance. Up until the canal, it was dry and scrappy vegetation, but once you crossed it, it was immediately void of all life period! It was like a line was drawn, semi arid area/full on desert. From this point on the ride was pretty monotonous sand dunes, occasional palm trees, scrappy plants, piles of rocks, "rustic" Bedouin settlements, and small depressing villages. The first decent sized town was right up on the Mediterranean named El ' Arish. Any other place in the world and it would be a perfect resort spot, here it was a rather threatening, terribly crowded, dusty, and poor area. There were some hotels and you could see people down at the beach (women in head to toe burkas mostly), but not someplace I'd like to hang out. It turns out I've learned since then, this is a place we are not allowed to go because there are some seriously bad characters hanging out around here.

We got to North Camp around sunset and you could see it from afar because there are actual trees (thanks to an ambitious irrigation program with our treated waste water) My first thought was it looked like a prison camp due to the not one, but two layers of tall barbed wire fending, rolls of razor wires between them, and elevated perimeter security outposts. Once I made it through the maze of security manned by Columbians and Hungarians who didn't speak a word of English. I was dropped in the middle of the base at the bus stop. There was not a person to be seen and I was like "okay…now what??" Thankfully a moment later one of my new co-workers pulled up, drove me to my new hooch to drop my bags and then brought me over to one of the Blackhawk pilot's house who was having a cookout. I met most of the other civilian observers and the US pilots and it seems like a fairly nice group. I ended up the night playing Xbox Rockstar until about 1:00 a.m. The next day was Saturday (their Sunday here as they work Sunday through Thursday) and we all met for lunch to say goodbye to an outgoing observer. I got a driving tour of the base (all 1 x 1.2 miles of it) and met up for a volleyball game at the gym in like 115 degree heat. Although they try to make North Camp as nice as possible, it's still in the middle of frickn nowhere, baking in the sand and sun. Since we've been here for over 30 years, there are some permanent buildings (FX, dining halls, some dormitories, offices, library, gym, movie theater, etc., but there are just as many temporary trailer-like buildings serving mostly as living quarters. Everything is painted the color of sand so it's pretty bleak. There are three roads running north and south and probably a dozen east west. My hooch-sweet-hooch is of course at one end of camp near the main gate in the Twin Palms area (sounds much nicer than it is). I've taken some pics around, but don't have my computer yet, so will have to include them in my next email. I have a very small sitting room with a loveseat book shelf, small coffee table and desk connected to a kitchen-like area with a sink, large dorm style fridge and couple cabinets next to my bedroom which has a queen sized bed and an attached tiny bathroom with a shower that I can barely turn around in. All in all, it's not bad, I have two serious a/c units which keep it a nice cool temperature in spite of the sun beating down on it. I even have a little fenced in patio with a couple pitiful trees. It looks like someone attempted some landscaping a while back, but most of it is dead. I have a table and chairs out there and would like to fix it up a bit and use it. Believe it or not, once the sun goes down, its actually quite pleasant out.

Okay, I'm at 2+ pages already and think I'll wrap this up for now and tell you more about life on a multinational forces base and my job so far in my next email. Hope you are all well.

Steve