Visiting Dubai

I am glad that I joined Dan to "see" Dubai for a few days back in March, but I wouldn't want to live there.  And I don't have any particular need to go back.  It impressed me as a screaming example of what is wrong with the world.

Shortly after my visit, I saw this article - UAE minister reveals that Dubai is amongst the top producers of waste in the world .  I noticed a lot of wasted water to create green grass around highways, A/C cranking with doors open, and what appeared to be a culture based entirely on consumerism.

Dubai is steel and pavement plopped down in the middle of a totally dry, arid desert.  The road noise makes the outdoors unpleasant (as does the heat). 

All the beaches are private (this made me appreciate the fact that the entire shoreline of Tel Aviv is designated public, so the hotels and rich can not prohibit the rest of us). 

There were a few remnants of the traditional culture that we saw, including building design with an open steeple that draws airflow into the building and acts like natural air conditioning.  We could learn from that.

We went up to the observation level of the Burj Khalifa (the building I am standing in front of).  From there I took the photo of the city from the sky.  The air quality was never clear while we were there.

The malls are bigger than the entire town that I spent my childhood in, LaConner.  We walked through to see the indoor ski area (see photo with Dan).  Otherwise it was too much, at least for me, as I do not enjoy shopping in general, and this was definitely shopping on crack.

Dubai is probably the most liberal Muslim place in the middle east.  But even here, practicing Muslim women are usually covered head to toe, sometimes including face masks, and accompanied by a man to go out of the home.  The reason for this, as I understand it, is that men can't control themselves, so women need to hide.  This sounds incredibly disrespectful to both genders.  It doesn't give any credit to either's ability to act as mature adults.  I want to have an open mind, but any culture where the rights of women are less than those of men feels too unjust for me to accept. 

As I said, it was interesting to see once.  I wouldn't have made a separate trip for it though.  There are MANY more interesting and meaningful places in the world.

 

Somewhere warm for vacation

In August we flew to the Greek Islands of Mykonos and Santorini for a week.  We spent four nights with six friends from Toronto and Ottawa on Mykonos first, where we shared an apartment, worked on our tans, drove ATVs around the Island, and enjoyed the nightlife. 

Then we took a 2 hour ferry over to Santorini and met up with 30 others for the wedding of a friend from Canada/NYC.   

Their ceremony was held at the Captain's House at the northwest side of the Island, overlooking the white-washed cliff houses of Oia. 

On our last day, we took a catamaran cruise to the volcano, sulfer hot springs, and beaches around the Island. 















When we landed in the Tel Aviv airport at 4am, we were greeted by fans of the local soccer team, who were drumming, waving flags and chanting in the arrivals hall so loud that we could hear them throught the walls in the baggage claim area. 

Everyone else went home to northern climates, and we returned to the heat and sun of the middle east.  Strange feeling....


A visitor

May brought with it our first house guest from the U.S., which gave us our first significant motivation to get out and see the country of Israel.

After a day of adjusting to his 10 hour time difference, we took dad on a day trip up north.  We started with the Banias waterfall in the Galilee.  Although I managed to pack sandwiches, drinks, and bring the travel guides, I didn't think to look up the weather.  It was the first of May, so we're in the dry season, right?  As we got into the upper Galilee, it rained.  A lot.  And I didn't bring a raincoat.  We were in shorts.  And sneakers.  At the entrance to the waterfall trail, we saw the other tourists washing their shoes off.  We were in for a muddy trek!  Who would have expected thick, sticky mud on the trail in the middle east? 

Our second stop was the Nimrod Fortress. These relatively young ruins, from the Crusades during the 1200's, sat on a hilltop that was almost too cold to walk through!  We ventured on though, and were rewarded with very little company. This afforded us a particularly special opportunity to see some unusual wildlife.

At the far side of the castle, we first noticed these rodent-looking creatures similar to a racoon. But they had no contrasting colors, and no tails. There were dozens of them, and plenty of babies.

We finished the day with a late lunch / early dinner in a Druize village.  Humus with meat, falafel, tehina, grilled meats, pickles, pitas and lemonade with mint to wash it down.  We drove back south past the Sea of Galilee. 

Our second day trip was to Jerusalem and the Dead Sea.  I am very proud of this day, as I drove to, and into, Jerusalem.  Driving in New York City is a cake walk compared to this.  I managed to get us to a view point of the old city.  Dad and I walked around the sites that I have visited when I was out there with tour guides.  The coolest part wasn't showing him the holy sites, but taking him to a little hole in the wall for lunch.  It was a place a guide had showed me, where she went for lunch (instead of the overpriced, under quality touristy spots).  We finished the day with a trip to Kalia Beach at the Dead Sea.  This was dad's favorite part of the day, and honestly, I can appreciate that.  Jerusalem, for all it's hype, feels like most other historical places that have been overrun by capitalism.  Everyone is hawking something, and it's all junk.  And there are just too many people, even on a slow day like this one.  While I can appreciate the religious importance that others attribute to the place, I'd much rather go underground and the ruins of where and how people lived.  Unfortunately there is very little of the city accessible in this way, and none of it for free. 

Our third day trip was south toward the Negev desert.  We intended to make it all the way to the crater, about a 2.5 hour drive each way, but were so absorbed in the caves at the Bet Guvrin National Park that we ran out time to get there.  We really went back in time here, to about 300 B.C.  These caves were the homes of the Hellenistic people.  They dug levels down into the ground.  They had large water cisterns, huge pigeon breading rooms, and living space.  The room in the picture to the right was an olive oil processing room.  They have been producing the same food products in this region for literally thousands of years.  In fact, they still are.  We purchased several bottles from the kibutz that still works the olive trees in this area.

We also walked through the Roman ampitheater ruins in this area (built much later than the caves), and drove further south to the Zin Valley where I was last fall for the Deserts Conference.  I was able to show Dan and my dad the amazing valley and canyon here, although we were rushed out by a Park guard who clearly wanted to get off work early.  Even though we only had about a half hour in the park, we got to see an interested interaction between two young bedoin goat herders and the Park Ranger.  He was clearly giving them a hard time for crossing through park territory. 

Our fourth trip was to Caesarea, which I visited back in 2006.  This was a half day trip, the day after the crazy Independence Day party.  Dad and I walked through the park, which I remembered as being slightly more impressive than it seemed to me this time.  I don't know if it is the fact that I have seen ancient Roman ruins in many more countries now, or if tourism has diminished a bit of the mystery and sense of exploration in this place.

We finished the day with a stop at the ancient Roman aqueduct on the sea, having a snack while sitting on top of it, then walking along the beach next to it for 20 minutes or so.  Again, a pontentially moving place, but too many people to fully appreciate it.  These were locals however, not tourists like in the National Park.  It gave new meaning to "under the boardwalk," as in this case it was "under the ancient Roman aqueduct."  You can't experience that in America.

My final trip with dad was to Masada.  Dad was the one who noticed this one in the guidebooks.  I am really glad he did.  It was a hike - a little over a two hour drive each way, but worth it.  It is a 2,000+ year old fortress built on the top of a mountain in the desert, overlooking the Dead Sea.  We sprung for the cable car ride both ways, and were very glad we did.  We got our walking in on the top.  And there isn't much shade, so this is not a good spot to tour in the summer.  Plenty of people start before sunrise and hike up from below, which takes about an hour, they say.  I promise, if you come to visit, we'll take the cable car again.  :)

Like other national parks with ancient ruins, they have worked to rebuild parts to give a better sense of the layout.  Here they did something really helpful though, they drew a line along the walls showing what was found in place, and what was archaeologically rebuilt.  I appreciate this, as it can often be hard to tell what has survived and what has been re-created.  Although the the climate was quite different, it reminded me of my visit to Machu Pichu with my dad in 2000.  Here we were on another continent, on top of another mountain, looking at the ruins of an ancient culture.  I can't help wondering what the ruins of modern culture will look like in 500 years, or 2,000?

So this is where you came from, Great Grandma...

Catching up a bit on observations that I drafted but did not complete. 

Stop two on our holiday during Passover was Finland.  I have been there once before, but only for a few hours, and north of the arctic circle.  In 2007 my mom and I visited relatives on the Swedish side in the north, in a tiny town of 600.  This visit is in Helsinki, the largest and southern most city.

We used the evening of our arrival to gain our bearings walking around town.  We passed through the Central Train Station, the Nordic Macy's (Stockman's), the Senate Square, along the harbor, and up a beautiful double-lane boulevard park.  The Finn's are clearly itching from cabin fever, as they were out in force, covering every park bench and seated at outdoor cafes, despite the need for heaters and snowman coats.  There are, afterall, remnants of the snowplow piles in every parking lot.  On our walk back to our hotel, Dan said, "What is everyone looking at?"  Across the street, on the top floor ledge of a six story building were three large birds.  My first instinct was that they were some kind of hawk, but after watching a moment, it became clear these were owls.  But they were more than twice the size of any owl I've seen.  They were light brown in color.  Two sat at the ledge and one slightly behind, possibly a spring baby, as it appeared to be smaller.  We watched them for at least ten minutes, and we were joined by nearly every passerby, so this didn't appear to be a common occurance.

The next day we took a 10 minute ferry to Suomenlinna Island and spent several hours wandering around this old fortress of five smaller islands connected by bridges.  It is actually this fortress, built to protect trade routes from Russia to the west, that caused Helsinki to develop into a major city. 

The architecture all throughout town has a very European feel.  Many of the large old stone buildings remind me of Paris, or Prague.  Although prices have dramatically increased in Prague, and Paris was never particularly cheap, Helsinki and all of Scandinavia are especially expensive.  Our basic fish lunch without drinks cost nearly $50 USD.  Here, as in Estonia, everyone speaks perfect English (albeit with a Nordic accent).  People are friendly enough. 

We used our other full day to escape the city with a rental car, driving along the southern coast.  We made it as far as Hanko, a southwest town on a Peninsula, which in addition to having been a trade port, a military outpost, and a summer holiday spot, was the port of departure for Finn's who emigrated to the U.S. around 100 years ago.  It is quite possible that my great grandmother left from here, before coming through Canada to Colorado, and then on to southern Washington State.  It is hard to imagine what she must have felt, leaving then, forever.  I don't think she ever had the opportunity or means to return.

Estonia, where is that again?

It's Pesach (Passover) holiday in Israel.  While some are observant, this is still high season for family vacations.  Ben Gurion airport was packed to the gills with outbound travelers when we left.  After a four hour flight to Munich, we flew two more hours.  Then we landed in Estonia.

Would you be able to point out Estonia on a map?  I knew it was in northeastern Europe near Russia, at least.  But I couldn't have told you the name of the capital (any guesses?)  It's Tallinn.  The whole country is only 1.4 million people.  And they've had it rough.  They spent most of the 1900's under occupation never mind the last 800 years) and only got their independence in 1991 from Russia.  The Russians were here most of the time, but the Nazi's took a run at the place from 1941-1944. 

They have a beautiful old city with a mixture of Russian, German, Swedish and Estonian influenced architecture.  They have some of the oldest medieval structures in the world.  We took a 2 hour walking tour of the city today, seeing most of it, and hearing stories from the perspective of a college student who was clearly influenced by the history of her homeland, providing a humorous, ironic, athiest and skeptical take on the authorities who have ruled her country, under occupation as well as as a free state. 

We passed by the old KGB headquarters, where the street level windows had been filled in with bricks to block the screams of those being tortured inside.  The building is now empty, and they have plans to renovate it into apartments, which are controvercial, with opinions depending on how you feel about the process of moving on from the autrocities of history. 

Dinner was at the Olde Hansa, a restaurant in the old town that has researched and replicated medieval dining.  They pour water from a pitcher to wash your hands when you come in, light by candles at the tables, and theoretically serve food in period style.   Huge rich portions meant our simple soup and two dinners were a two hour excursion, requiring a few more hours of walking and digestion afterwards.  We were seated on the third floor, where a group of 35 local middle-aged Estonians came in for a "feast" about the same time we did.  Within 15 minutes they had broken out in song.  You're probably reading this and thinking what a nightmare.  But as it turns out, Estonian's are known for their singing.  They say they "sang" their way to revolution and freedom.  These guys were in perfect harmony.  And if that wasn't enough, a stag party of six men (on the older side) sat at the table next to us, in full pirate costumes.  It was an entertaining meal. 

Our second day in Tallinn we wandered an old neighborhood of stately wooden homes that ended up in a state of disrepair during the years of occupation, but interest and investment is starting to return it to the upperclass neighborhood that it once was.  It is near a large park which is across from the Palace build by the Russian Tsars  (for the Russian Tsars) as well as the current President's home.  They also recently built a beautiful modern art museum which we wandered in for about an hour. 

For lunch we headed back across town north of the old city, to a little place called Cafe Moon, where we satiated our empty tummies with outstanding fish soup and borshe soup.  Then we shared a salmon pie which was equally delicious.  We didn't think another meal could top lunch, but dinner of venison medallions and butter-seared halibut did.  All in all, Tallinn exceeded my expectations.  That's partly due to not really having any, but I would recommend it if you ever up in north eastern Europe.  Just don't go any earlier than April.  It still required my snowman coat. 

35,000 feet in the air

This is it.  We're on the plane from Los Angeles to Atlanta, then on to Tel Aviv tonight.  I can't believe it has been six weeks already.  I haven't spent more than a two week visit in Washington State since the summer of 1997.  While I would have much preferred for this visit to have taken place in August (thereby experiencing the best weather of the Pacific Northwest while avoiding the worst of Israel), it was a great visit. 

I met my nephew, Ernest, in his NICU room, then watched him come home and grow from barely 5 pounds to over 7.  I visited over a dozen family members all across the state including all my grandparents.  My good friend Erin, from Wellesley, came up from Santa Rosa, CA to visit for a weekend in Seattle.  I had a crazy night out with my best friend from high school, Leigh, and was asked by my best friend from elementary school, Stacy, to stand up in her wedding in July.  It is exciting to be going home, knowing I will be back again this summer to see more friends and family whom I missed on this trip.  It is amazing how quickly days can pass when a member of the house is on a 3-hour eat, sleep, and diaper cycle.  I spent many mornings and afternoons cooking, and many evenings babysitting.  And I wouldn't have had it any other way. 

I took full advantage of the exceptional local seafood - oysters, clams, and salmon.  And realized how much I miss access to raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, and all the local native versions like salmonberries and huckleberries.  Unfortunately the local varieties are only available in August, so I will miss them this year.  I will also miss the tulips and daffodils that will sprout up all over the Skagit Valley in a month.

Dan joined me for my last few days in Seattle, and we wrapped up our visit with a weekend in Los Angeles for his cousin Ariel's wedding.  This provided a bit of easing back into my new reality in Hebrew.  I have a bit of trepidation about the inevitably confounding struggle to communicate that I will face upon my return home.  But it does feel like I am returning home, and that's a nice feeling. 

I am looking forward to stocking up on fresh produce from the shuk, and not layering my clothes to keep warm anymore.  And I am excited to see Israel in springtime.   

Last sunset

Last sunset in Tel Aviv until I return in February. 

I'm off to meet my nephew, Ernest, in Seattle!

Thai cooking class

Before it becomes a distant memory, I should wrap up a few additional thoughts about Thailand.

In Chaing Mai, we spent our last full day taking a traditional Thai cooking class.  The day began with pad thai, followed by tom yum soup and cashew chicken. 

Then we took a break to visit the local market with Yui, where we purchased some of the ingredients that are hard to find in western grocery stores - palm sugar and sticky rice (we bought kaffir lime leaves later in our trip).  Something I had never noticed before in a market (but have since) is that they bundle soup mix ingredients for sale, just like can be found in U.S. grocery stores.  However, these soup mixes are small rubber-banded bunches of lemongrass, galangal, and kafir lime leaves.

Upon our return to the classroom, we made our own spring rolls and finished off the day with mango and sticky rice.

Probably the most valuable part of the class was learning more about how to use fish sauce, soy sauce, and hoisin sauce.  Fish sauce goes with meat, soy with vegetables, and hoisin with both.  The amount used should be proportional to the quantity of the meat, but always less than you think.  As they say in Hebrew, le'at le'at, or "little by little."  Taste, add, taste, add, until it's right.   

It was a delicious learning experience!

Forest fire in Haifa

On the news last night we learned that northern Israel is experiencing one of the great dangers of long dry spells - a forest fire.  International aid is coming in from all over, including Britain, Greece, Cyprus, Egypt, Jordan, France, Croatia, Russia, Spain, Romania and a NYC Fire Department plane. 

While it has rained here in Thailand (right) so much this season that they are having some of their worst flooding on record, Israel had one of their hottest, dryest summers ever, with negligible rain for the past six months.  Maybe we can bring the rain clouds home with us, and help out both countries in the process.

A night in the Thai jungle

From our base in Chaing Mai, we booked a two day visit to the Doi Pui Suthep National Park.  We started with a mountain biking trip which lasted several hours, and offered varying degrees of difficulty.  Knowing one's limits was important, to avoid the fate of a few of the riders who went over their handle bars.  Riding through tropical forest, rice paddies in valleys, and meeting the farmers who gave us a taste of sugar cane cut right on their property reminded me how important a connection with one's environment is.  Thai's definitely have this.  Even the young guy who was guiding our biking tour could tell us about plants growing along the trail that are commonly found in Thai cooking.  Although Israel is agriculturally more advanced, I am not sure that Israelis connect with the land in this way, but then again, the people in most developed countries do not.  In the U.S., our national parks are visited by foreigners more than Americans. 

After a late lunch, we were shuttled back to the office where the two of us, plus a traveler from Scotland, were driven up to the base of the Flight of the Gibbon for a homestay. 

We arrived around 6:30pm, after dark, and our host family, a very welcoming Thai couple speaking nearly no English, showed us our rooms, the bath/shower, and began cooking up a delicious meal for us.  Dinner included a minced pork dish, something we've been eating daily upon arrival, and enjoying thoroughly.  There are so many ways to prepare meats here - basil and chili, garlic and pepper, fried, minced, crispy, etc. - and so many sauces, the options are endless.  I admit, I have been taking advantage of the pork options on most menus, as it is a real treat coming from a non-pork-eating country.

As you can see in the picture to the right, the kitchen in their home was very simple.  They were using gas and electric to cook on, and they did have a small refrigerator.  But they didn't appear to store much - they eat fresh - ironic as our standard of living in the West is so much higher, yet our food consumption is arguably lower quality.  

After dinner, we were invited to a traditional thai massage.  They set up mats there in our little wooden house, and worked on our soar muscles for over an hour!

The next morning, we said goodbye to our host family, and waited patiently for our ride to begin our zip lining adventure for the day.  This is when we discovered that the three of us had been lost between the cracks of their planning for the day.  At first, I wondered whether this was classic non-western culture behavior, under which you have to be prepared for the reality that all times are approximate.  However, after some discussion, we realized that they were truly overbooked.  We watched as others were shuttled in and out of the experience with efficiency and expediency. 

Despite this bump in the day, it turned out to be a worthwhile experience, as the network of zip lines, cable bridges and rappelling ropes created a 3 hour circuit of fun with incredible views.  I felt like I was in Fangorn Forest in the Lord of the Rings. 

This visit peaked my curiousity about what environmental education Thai's receive in school, and what outcomes they have seen from it.  There are clearly businesses in Thailand promoting eco-friendly tourism, but these are targeted toward tourists.  A quick google search shows that academic interests have looked at efforts here, but I didn't see an overall strategy or state-led effort.  However, when I googled "environmental education" generally, the third listing that came up was ironically the "Israel Ministry of the Environment." 

Moving to a desert, attending the Deserts Conference, conversations with my dad, and a couple recent articles, have really got me thinking about the issue of our human connection to nature.  To read the articles:

Losing Our Connection to Nature: Is Sustainability at Risk?
Humans Losing Touch with Nature

Interaction with nature was an integral part of my childhood, and I can't imagine childhood without it.  Do you think this is important?  Why?  What should we do about it?