My bus finally broke down... in the desert.

I've finally returned Palestine, and as such, I will attempt to get back to my blogging ways. My return was delightful, miserable, and as always eventful. I returned via Egypt, having heard from several people that the southern border crossing into Israel is relatively easier to pass through compared to entering through Tel Aviv. I was a bit worried my third visit, the second in less than two months, might throw up red flags with Israeli authorities. Thanks to my mother's job with Delta (please think of using them the next time your "travel plans call for air travel") I flew from NYC to Cairo first-class. As I picked up my copy of the Financial Times, and flipped through their monthly magazine insert "How to Spend It", while sipping a cool glass orange juice, I was relieved to see that finally someone appreciated me as a consumer with discerning tastes. I was quite impressed with the new line of special production bicycles by Porsche, but less impressed with the luxory watches on review. You really can't have enough finely built, handcrafted time pieces.

Despite my fully reclineable seat and not having to deal with the rabble in coach (... I don't even know why the let them on the plane) I spent a fairly sleepless night. I arrived in Cairo and left as soon as I could. Before doing so I made sure to sweat... a lot, and to play the video game-like challenge of crossing streets in a city with over 20 million people, and even more cars. I'm fairly confident that my survival is owed no less to the many hours I spent as a child playing Frogger on our 1982 vintage IBM PC at home. I took an overnight bus to a little town called Dahab, situated on the southerneastern coast of Sinai (only an hour north of Sharm Al-Sheikh, of presidential summit fame).

Dahab features a number of world class diving and snorkeling spots and is a backpacker's favorite. I spent 4 days here. The first catching up on sleep, the second two playing in the water, and day 4 relaxing. I hung out with a couple of American guys and a Canadian girl while I was there. The 29 year old from Ohio was quite a character, and a traveler. He's an avid climber, and enthralled me with his account of his ascent of Everest. He didn't make the summit (only the final advance camp (about 24,000 ft)), but I have a feeling he will eventually do it, and make it down to tell the tale. The other American was in the 9th month of an around the world adventure that has included stops on all seven continents... yes, Antarctica.

I was tempted to go diving, but for a hundred dollars for two dives, i decided to stick with snorkeling ( a hundred dollars is 3 weeks worth of food in nablus) ). The time I spent in the water was amazing. I was really impressed with the wide array of tropical fish, some decent coral formations, and the sheer extent of the underwater environment. I snorkeled around a sight called blue hole/the bells... amazing. There is a coral shelf about 3 feet deep which leads to a cliff/ledge that then drops to over 300 feet. It was unbelievable to see all the bright coral and aquatic life just drop into a bright blue abyss. It was a strange sensation to hover over this cliff feeling as if the laws of physics were somehow turned upside down I could plummet into the deep blue.

The two and a half hour bus ride from Dahab to Taba (on the border with Israel) took almost 5 hours. Our bus came to a stop to give water to a stranded truck driver (remember we are in the middle of the desert). As we are preparing to get back underway a group 6 foreigners comes walking up from the back of the bus demanding to be let out... I look back the bus is filling with smoke... I had just drank the last of my water about an hour ago. I knew I would eventually be on a bus that would break down. I figured it would probably be one of the Boston-NYC Chinatown buses. The thing is that, I-95 going through Connecticut is just a fundamentally different environment than the Sinai Desert.

After the smoke had more or less abated we were hearded onto the bus, by the driver who was visibly agitated due to our delay. The following 5 minutes would be the most frightening bus ride I've had since I thought I was going to die on a chicken bus in the Andes coming down the mountains from Quito in Ecuador. Contrary to my prior belief, there are hills and mountains in the desert, and there are roads that take sharp turns, and apparently there are bus drivers who are willing to bet lives on timely arrivals. For a couple of minutes I really thought the bus had lost its brakes. At least I wasn't going to die of dehydration on the side of the highway...

I took me forever to get out of Egypt, as one poor guy labored away stamping passports while 4 other border workers looked on, apparently managing logistics. I lost track of the number of times people cut in front of me. The line morphed from 3 separate lines to 2 to 1 and back to 3, all for the same station in the 30 minutes I was waiting. I won't even go into the hastle I created for myself by asking for a special re-entry stamp... wasn't worth the $15 it would have saved me. Putting my best game face on I entered the Israeli border control station. All smiles, I made a sarcastic joke about not being with the tour group entering at the same time as me and passed through the metal detectors. Of course they wanted to go through my bags.

Then came time to step up to the plate and get my stamp. The early twenties-something girl behind the glass asked me what I was doing and where I was going. As she looked at my last exit stamp she then became intrigued, "Where are you staying in Eilat (the Israeli town on the border)." I had a hostel picked out... easy question. "Can I see your return ticket to the states?"... Electronic ticket, I don't have a print out of the itenerary. Next question please. A bit befuddled, but not looking as though she was prepared to call in the reserves she leans over to the girl next to her and starts talking. The two of them had tones in their voice that suggested that something was awry, but it didn't appear as though the system had me flagged, and I was all smiles... what could they do. I pretty much ran out the place and didn't even look to see if she gave me a 1 month or 3 month visa until I was at the bus station in Eilat.

Getting from Eilat to Jerusalem was uneventful except for the peculiar anxiety that seemed to permeate the Israelis around me. There was a rush to get on the bus, a rush to get off the bus. The girl behind me in line at the rest stop was climbing on my back waiting to purchase her yogurt. Every step I took forward, she took two. I felt as though if I had bent down to pick up some change I would have been leap frogged by atleast ten people by the time I stood back up.

The first week in Nablus has been pretty calm. I spent the first night in my old apartment. My favorite old roommate was prompt in letting me know that there had been no prior notice of my arrival (which wasn't my fault) and that since the apartment was now "full" (which is up for debate), I would only be able to stay for the night. I thanked him for keeping me abreast of the situation. I have spent the past four nights at the apartment of an orginization that has a good relationship with the university. The apartment acts as a homestead for international travelers coming to Nablus for short periods of time. All of the visitors so far have been French accept for the interpretive dance couple who were from England. I don't know how long this will last, but I do have my own small room and it is relatively clean... so I'm not complaining.

I've started teaching an English class at the university, and it is good to be back in the classroom. I had my first Arabic tutoring session, and that appears as though it should work out nicely. Congratulations if you made this far. I admire your stamina and promise to do my updates fairly regularly so that you're not subjected to book-length posts in the future. Hope all are well.

peace,
ryan