Nomad

Engaged!!!

2009-12-22T13:14:00.015-07:00

I had planned to ask on the 27^th. It would have been my parents’ 40^th wedding anniversary, so it held a lot of meaning for me. I bought the ring on December 6 (which incidentally, was the 5 month anniversary of the day we met). It is a white gold Claddagh and inside I had inscribed go deo which is Gaeilge for forever. Of course once I had the ring, I wanted to ask her every bleedin’ time I saw her! I had to seriously stop myself quite a few times by gentle internal reminders that a commercial break during Bones was probably not the most romantic time to ask the woman of your dreams to spend the rest of her life with you.

Yesterday morning I woke up and said to myself this is the day to do it! (Yes, I do partake in a lot of internal dialogue.) I kind of realised that although the 27^th has a lot of meaning for me, it would be better for Kay and I to have a day of our own to share. Winter Solstice is all about new beginnings and what better day to start this wicked journey. It was also—incidentally—the five month anniversary of our first kiss. I figured that if I asked before the holidays (and she said yes) then we could all celebrate her as a new Duffy together. Most of all, I had already waited 15 days and was coming very close to justifying the romanticism of Bones commercial breaks.

The day was just like any, with Christmas in the air as well as a heck of a lot of blowing snow! I had planned for us to go for a walk on the grounds of the Alberta Legislature and casually asked Kay if she would be up for that. She was but only after she went on her run. The crazy weather meant she got home from work late, so her run went until about 8:30. Meanwhile I was plan B-ing as much as I could. I thought about going up and asking her on her treadmill, making her come outside in the backyard, finding an episode of Bones to put on and simulating a commercial break... Luckily, she was still up for the walk!

So, we bundled up in long-johns and touques and went to see the lights and ice sculptures at the Leg. As I walked her around to the Centennial Flame, I took the opportunity (as any self-respecting Social Studies teacher is wont to do) to talk about Canadian Confederation. Of course as any self-respecting American is wont to do, Kay took the opportunity to dis my nation and the fact that Canada has “technically only been its own country since 1982.” It was a beautiful lead in to what I had planned! :)

As we approached the Flame, which is eternal, we had to sing a few bars of Eternal Flame by The Bangles. Then Kay asked me to teach her something else. I looked into her eyes and said “you are everything I want, you are everything I need.” I was trembling a little (not just because of the cold) as we hugged, and said “I want to be your everything, forever” then whispered “Will you marry me?” Kay said “Of course” but I don’t think she realised how serious I was until she saw the little velvet box in my mitt. Luckily she didn’t take her answer back!

Sure

2009-07-19T13:58:00.007-06:00

Regrets are only useful if you learn from them. This is a sentiment I try to live by but am ignoring for today.

Today is the second anniversary of the day my mom died. It is weird how time plays tricks; it seems so long ago that most of it is a blur and yet there are moments and visions so burned into the space behind my eyes that they could have happened five minutes ago. Moments I wish I had handled differently, visions I wish I could unsee, could wipe away. These memories often come unbidden and serve the sole function of depriving me of sleep or breath, but sometimes-on days such as today-I allow myself to explore them, explore the pain within those last few days in the hope of being sure. I know I loved my mom, wanted and needed her. But I need to be sure my mom knew she was loved. I need to be sure my mom knew she was wanted. I need to be sure my mom knew she was needed.

It is too late to be sure.

Feet on ground, heart in hand, facing forward, be yourself.

I left my heart in West Cork

2008-01-06T02:41:00.001-07:00

If anyone can believe it, the last time I was in Ireland was in 1980! I was a rambunc-

tious 6 year old who managed to get her foot stuck in the spokes of a bike wheel and crack open her skull after falling off a door in the space of about two weeks, prompting my relatives to request that my mom take me home and never bring me back! So, I haven’t been back since and now I don’t know why I ever stayed away.

I know I went on about how Africa feels like home to me, but within just a few minutes of my arrival in West Cork, I knew my spirit was home. The quilted hills that look soft enough to bounce on, the low-lying clouds that really make you feel like heaven is only just out of reach, the colourfully painted storefronts alternating with enough pubs for every hour of the day... I know you’ve heard it all before, but it is all true! I guess I’ll have to live 6 months in Africa and 6 months in West Cork! Although it is possible that the Guarda (or cops) in Skibbereen might take objection to me living there if they realise I was the one belting out Hey Mickey right at them while they were trying to close an illegally open pub or that I, too, was the one dancing on the table to Summer of ‘69 (justifying it with ‘C’mon, he’s Canadian!) while my cousins and little brother Brian looked on in horror and concern (Brian was very concerned that my dismount off the table would be very dangerous). Long story short, if I can get past the cops, I will definitely be back in Skib!

Highlights for the rest of Ireland have included:

-Brian and I realising (a little too late, cuz we were in the middle of some wonderful tunes in a Limerick pub) that not all Irish people sing as much as we Duffys do.

-Inspiring mass hooliganism as my cousin and I hopped the fence (read: broke into) the most westerly point of Ireland.

-Sleeping in a hallway on Christmas Eve cuz there was literally no room in the Inn!

-Treating Aman (and most of the street) to another performance of the Duffy Family Singers during the Literary Pub Crawl in Dublin (the poor girl couldn’t get a word in).

-Going head to head (and losing) with my big brother Conor in a trivia contest at the end of the above mentioned Literary Tour. In my defence, he IS a literature teacher.

-Stepping into The Dragon on New Year’s Eve in Dublin and very quickly realising that Karen, Aman and I would have to keep a really close eye on Sean, because the boys were far too pretty and the music was way too good!

-A trip to Belfast where, despite the sobering effects of this beautiful and sometimes troubled city, Aman and I managed to take in 6 pubs in one day (including the test-your-Fate pint in the often bombed Europa Hotel). And just to show you how generous the Irish are: they ordered up a blizzard for us to drive home in, so I could get all prepped for frosty Edmonton!

-The culmination of a fantastic journey on Dec 31^st, 2007, as The Jacket of the Clan of the Travelling Black Gold returned home to The Guinness Brewery at St. James’ Gate in Dublin. It was a beautiful experience that would have brought tears to a glass eye. It was made even more beautiful as Aman was accosted by what she assumed were the kids from Angela’s Ashes. That pic (and others of The Jacket) coming soon on facebook.

Yesterday, the last day of my trip, me Faaather and I decided to take in a little archaeology (in a desperate attempt to balance all the heretofore debauchery) and headed to Newgrange, a magnificent mound tomb built in 3200BC (that’s 500 years before the Pyramids, folks!) to align perfectly with the sunrise during the Winter Solstice. Then on to the Hill of Tara, the magical Druid seat of Irish power until St. Paddy came in a screwed them all over. It was a fantastic end to a fantastic journey, and we managed to find a pint anyway!

So there is it: after taking the decidedly long way home, I return to Canada. For those of you still reading, thank you for sharing in these 8.5 weeks, 600 pounds of pasta, 1000’s of works of art, one pasty Jesus, 14 tonnes of chocolate, 1000’s of birds that might or might not retake the world, gallons of sangria, one Atlantic Ocean, one Sahara Desert, 1 million sheep, one absentee Muffin Man, one millilitre of Ewan McGregor spittle, 5 million gallons of Guinness, 732 potatoes, and the best cousins a girl can ask for.

Love,

Jen

December 27th, 2007

2007-12-27T02:39:00.000-07:00

Today, December 27^th would have been my parents’ 38^th wedding anniversary. It is also the day my father, 3 brothers, cousins, aunts, and I spread my mom’s ashes on the land of her childhood farm in West Cork, Ireland. My mom always longed for Ireland, for home; she was West Cork and I don’t think she really ever left... and now she can rest here forever. For those of you who knew her, thank you for being a part of her life. For those of you who didn’t know her, pretty much all the good that I am stems from her, so you knew her through me. To all of you, thank you so much for your support. I could not have gotten through this without you. I miss my mom everyday but I am also grateful for the 32 years I was lucky enough to have her.

I love you all and hope you had a wonderful Christmas.

Le Petit Prince, The Muffin Man and Obi Wan Kenobi

2007-12-17T02:35:00.003-07:00

This was my third trip on to the continent of Africa and although there is no way to lump the thousands of languages, tribes, and cultures into one, nor to assume to know anything after such a short time there, the whole place feels like home to me. Perhaps it is because people as a species came from Africa or perhaps it is because every country I have visited here has offered me a completely life-altering experience.

Senegal was no different. Now don’t get me wrong, there are some interesting aspects to a vacation in Senegal: sheep outnumbering people on buses and on the street, the constant need to pray to the Sphincter God to help you with control, the chihuahua-sized cockroaches. But there is also the oddly comforting call to prayer five times a day, the wonderfully bulbous baobabs making the place look like a young Fangorn forest or the dream home planet of the Little Prince, the fire of the sunrise over the ocean and the pastels of the sunset over the desert, the friendly and open nature of everyone you meet, the meticulous tea making ceremony designed not only to make good frothy tea but to ensure that there is time for good conversation while it is being made, the fact that waiters assume you are American if you get too excited about ordering a Long Island Iced Tea, the birds who are far more in tune with their magnificent dinosaur ancestry, and the colour everywhere as nobody is afraid to mix and match patterns!

Aman and I had possibly more fun than we deserved, realising that with all we have seen in our young lives we are, in fact, the luckiest (or most spoiled) gals in the world!

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It is surprising even to me that I have never been to London. After 35 countries or so, I suppose I can recognise the pattern that I tend to gravitate to non-English speaking countries and away from big cities. So, being the biggest English city, London was not at the top of my list. Man-o-man, does that list need to change as in one day I fell in love with London. It is seriously the world at your feet. My brothers Conor and Brian met me Saturday morning and we proceeded down to the theatre district to try to see either Ian McKellen in King Lear or Ewan McGregor in Othello (how are those for choices!). King Lear seemed futile, so we headed to the Dunmar to see if there were any tickets for Othello (surprisingly undaunted even after hearing that they were going on EBay for $2000!). During our wanderings, we came across a street called Drury Lane. So, I did what I am sure all of you would have: tried to find the Muffin Man. Sadly we were unsuccessful (even after strategically placing a Starbucks muffin as an offering), so we contented ourselves with some nice shots of the muffin, the Guinness Jacket, and the Drury Lane street sign.

Things looked futile as we reached the Dunmar, the show was sold out and it was unlikely that there would be any tickets returned on a Saturday afternoon. Feeling somewhat whimsical, however, we decided to wait and see. How lucky were we: three seats, pretty much on the stage (in a theatre which held only about 400 people)! I was so close that as the actors entered and exited the stage their cloaks and swords hit me in the knee! At one point, Ewan (who played Shakespeare’s villainous wordsmith Iago brilliantly) was standing right beside me and I could feel the spit as he emphatically delivered his line. Creepy and cool!!! The guy who played Othello, Chiwetel Ejiofor (Kiery Knightly’s husband in Love, Actually and, more importantly, the bad guy in Serenity) was also bloody brilliant! To have seen Shakespeare put on by such amazing players in such an intimate setting is one of the coolest things I have ever done!

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My first day in Ireland consisted of this: me faaather picked me up from the airport, took me to a pub he was banned from as a young lad (we couldn’t actually get in so I am pretty sure the bouncer recognised my dad and quickly locked the doors), then to the baptism of my newest cousin, after which we watched Man U beat Liverpool 1-nil in a dreadful game and then Arsenal beat Chelsea 1-nil in a beautiful match whilst drinking Guinness, followed by trips to two separate pubs to drink...wait for it...more Guinness (I figure I’ll drown whichever stomach parasite I contracted in Senegal with Guinness). So, within three hours I had had three Guinness, been to church and watched football; the quintessential Irish experience!

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The Jacket has made appearances at the Atlantic Ocean; in the Sahara Desert; at the two major tourist destinations in London: Big Ben and Drury Lane; and has now made it home to Ireland. I did think very seriously about having my brother take a picture while I tackled Ewan McGregor and forced the Jacket on him, but thought that might be a bit over the top... But you do get to see the Jacket worn by someone other than me on this trip: Aman, my very wee cousin Jessica (who proves that the thing does not actually fit everyone!) and my wee brother Brian. So, enjoy that nice change of scenery on facebook.

I hope this finds you all well and happily getting ready for Christmas.

Love,

Jen

Flying Solo

2007-12-07T02:33:00.000-07:00

Barcelona is a city that inspired two men who saw the world from a completely different perspective than that of the rest of us. Who saw the world in fluid, undulating lines rather than straight ones. Who saw the world from all angles possible.

Antoni Gaudi was an architect in the late 19^th early 20^th centuries who did not build or design structures, but rather seemed to grow them from rock. Sure, I can be awed by a magnificent church or a beautiful theatre, but to be honest, I am generally much more excited by ruins of modern buildings. However, I was absolutely blown away by what Gaudi has done. Every building he created is an organic experience, from buildings that looks like waves swelling on the sea or skeletal complexes filled with oblique and curved angles, to a whole park designed with Hansel and Gretel in mind, to a massive cathedral that seems to breathe and surge with life, with glowing stained glass, columns that look like insect legs, and tangled spires that that heave above the skyline. It was truly awe-inspiring.

And then there is Pablo Picasso, who turned the world of art on its axis by realizing that a painting, while beautiful, is only representing a single snapshot of time; a single snapshot of the subject’s being. Instead, why not try to portray all aspects of your subject at once by looking at them from all angles? Sure, it looks kinda funky, with eyes and noses all over the place and of all shapes and sizes, but if you look at it realising that you are seeing that subject not just from the front, but from the back, the side, below, above… all at once, it truly blows your mind. My immense thanks to EB, a wonderful art guide, for helping me to actually see it all and for putting up with questions like: “Now, why is this art?”

What is most wonderful is that these two geniuses in turn inspired the city, as Barcelona seethes with passion and culture. If you have never been, I recommend it highly!!! If you have been, go back!

On Thursday, EB went back to Korea (I won’t go into how difficult that was for me, but if you’ve seen the penultimate scene in There's Something About Mary, when Ben Stiller is leaving Mary’s house, you’ll have an idea of how I was in the Rome airport) and I have found my way to Dakar, Senegal to hang with Aman (my intrepid and perennial travelling companion who is saving the world one West African city at a time through the Red Cross).

I find my mind awash in languages; Korean, Italian, Spanish, and now French. I invariably say ‘si’ for yes and ‘aniyo’ for no. I am worried that come crunch time, sentences like Dove est el hwajanshil? or Aniyo, je non habla Francais. or Vorrei deux cervasas, juseyo. will come spilling from my mouth. It is all a very exciting and welcome side-effect of being a nomad!

Love you all and hope you're well!

Rockin with the Romulans

2007-11-29T02:28:00.000-07:00

I have spent the past few days hanging with the Romulans (those are Romans for you non Star Trek types). I am generally a Greekist (yes, and a geekist), but after my first visit to Rome just over a year ago, I fell in love with the city; it definitely does not disappoint. And with 27 centuries of history under its toga, how could it? The plethora of sights around the city is staggering, and the best part about them is how jumbled and unstratified they are. You have the palace where Mussolini riled his fascists in 1942 sitting kitty-corner to where Julius Caesar was betrayed and killed in 44BC, which is just down the street from where Nero played the lyre while Rome burned in 64AD, which is just over the hill from where Romulus and Remus (abandoned by their poor vestal virgin mother (cuz she was gonna be buried alive no thanks to their good-for-nothing dad Mars)) met their lupine mammy in 753BC, which is a dagger’s throw away from the spectacular 80AD Colosseum. And all of this is just over the river from the centre of the Catholic world and their extravagant cathedrals bursting at the buttresses with high art.

A low key highlight for me was the memorial in the house where English poet John Keats died of consumption at the tender age of 25; his ‘romantic’ death robbing the world far too early of a wonderful poet while simultaneously catapulting him into fame. The small, simple house is filled to the rafters with old books and sits beside the glorious Spanish Steps, in an area where you can buy all the high fashion you could possibly imagine (which is wonderfully ironic given the simple romanticism of Keats’ life).

Outside of Rome, life has included a bus ride to Siena (Florence’s fabulously Gothic rival with medieval palaces and cobblestoned streets) through breathtaking autumn views, with patches of rusty-amber interspersed with all the greens from musky olive to verdant, surrounding vineyards clinging to impossible inclines; as well as an art historians fantasy buffet in the largest collection of Renaissance art this side of the Milky Way. The ninjas have definitely represented: Leonardo (who, like a true genius, often seemed to have trouble completing something before he got distracted with a new project; but even his unfinished works are masterpieces), Donatello (with his moving statue of John the Baptist), Raphael (personal painter for the popes) and Michelangelo (who could really look after all of your interior design needs; he paints ceilings, designs staircases and plazas and even chisels extraordinary sculptures out of single marble blocks every now and then); as have many who just missed the ninja cut: Botticelli (whose Birth of Venus is absolutely stunning seen in the flesh), Caravaggio (whose vividly dark realism was amazing) and countless others with their superbly gruesome scenes of martyrdom and their ethereal tributes all things biblical and mythological.

Now, I am usually reverent when it comes to art and especially respectful of religious art, but when I happened upon a painting of a very pale and blond baby Jesus, I turned to EB and exclaimed (in a private voice) "Look at how white Jesus is!" Unfortunately, a very not-amused couple was within earshot. I wanted to tell them that he was just far too pasty for a wee Nazarene lad, but I held my tongue and they tried their hardest to bore through me with their glares of malevolence each and every time we ran into them (which was far too often).

Possibly the biggest highlight of the week came last night when I finally killed the pair of mosquitoes (or possibly just one zombie mosquito) that had been plaguing us the past 5 nights.

Since I got to Italy, everyone assumes I am Spanish (apparently I look swarthy) so tomorrow, EB and I are off to Barcelona to look for my people.

I hope everyone is doing well.

Worwickers: I hope you’re having fun with the Christmas Production prep.

Family members: I will see you in 2 and a half weeks!

North America dwellers: try to get rid of the snow before January for me.

Aman: Find us some Guinness in Dakar!

Love,

Jen

Clan of the Travelling Black Gold Update: Stops for the jacket have included: the Ancient Roman Senate, the Colosseum, the grave of Julius Caesar, The Vatican, the Sistine Chapel (well just outside, because you can’t take photos inside), and a statue of Bacchus (the Roman god of liquor!).

The birds of St. Francis and of Galileo

2007-11-20T02:27:00.000-07:00

I am officially 33 in all time-zones! Thank you to everyone who sent birthday wishes, both physical and telepathic. I have dubbed 33 the WhatEver age (W=3 fingers and E=3 fingers; three three!), so I am gonna take things as they come, all laissez-faire like. My mom always used to get me the coolest cakes for my birthday (and by cool, I’m talking about a replica of a Starfleet Captain’s uniform, to name the best of them!), so in keeping with this tradition, EB and I headed to Perugia , Italy’s chocolate capital, in search of cake.

Perugia is capital of the province of Umbria, which is a magical place with enough rolling green hills to make Maria von Trapp want to cut up curtains for everyone, enough labyrinthine streets in the hill-top towns to make the Minotaur’s head spin, and enough chocolate to make even the likes of me say "Uh actually, I think that’ll do for now." The city itself contrasts the old (within the ancient city walls you’ll find the most exquisite stained glass I have even seen as well as a billion beautiful Byzantine Christs) with the new (outside the walls, there are blue lights in the public bathrooms so druggies can’t find their veins) and is a wonderful place just to wander. Most importantly, it has the Etruscan Chocohotel, dedicated to all the chocolate a girl could ever want.

From Perugia, we headed to Assisi to hang with the monks, Franciscan style. Assisi is the birthplace of St. Francis, famous not only for lending his name to my youngest brother, Billy Franky, but also for (after a youth of debauchery and upon being asked by Christ Himself to repair His house ) renouncing his worldly possessions and founding the Franciscan Order of monks, dedicated to worshipping God through the beauty of a simple life. The city is absolutely stunning, stretched across a small hill, with peach coloured brick buildings that glow in the sunlight (we were lucky enough to get a little sunlight in an otherwise freezing day). The approach through the winding streets to the Basilica of St. Francis, which sits perched on a cliff overlooking the patchwork of fields and vineyards below and is fronted by an almost quixotic looking statue of Francis on a horse (one of the most moving statues I have ever seen), is absolutely spectacular.

Legend has it that St. Francis had an Ace-Ventura way with animals and even preached to a flock of enraptured birds who did not fly away until he was finished. Figuring ‘when in Assisi’, I took it upon myself to do some preaching of my own, armed with a sermon prepared about the glory of the dinosaurian ancestry of birds. Unexpectedly, the birds did not seem that eager to flock to me. I did manage to corner one or two at the train station and after hitting them with the revelation that they come from greatness, I did my best to convince them that they can do better with their lives. I will admit that my congregation of two didn’t seem outwardly moved by my speech, but I’m sure they’ll go home and ruminate for a while. I am pretty sure I saw tears in those glassy, beady eyes, and while EB seems to think they were of boredom, I am banking that they were of exaltation. I’ll post the video on facebook and you can be the judge!

Life in Firenze since I last wrote has included beautiful views and climbs around the city (877 steps yesterday alone; incidentally at the very top of one of the towers, I was greeted by a Storm Trooper sticker on the garbage can!), some wicked Gregorian chanting in a cool little chapel on the hill, and lots of imbibing. The biggest highlight for me was at the History of Science Museum which houses, I kid you not, the middle right finger of Galileo Galilei! It was removed from his hand when they moved his body to its current resting place about a hundred years after he died. It now sits, erect and defiant, in a glass case in the museum, effectively flipping the bird for all eternity to all who opposed his ground breaking views! It has been a wonderful week of birds!

As some of you will recall, the mission for last year’s adventure involved taking photos of my 3PO, R2, and Boba Fett PEZZ Dispensers in various Star Wars locations in Tunisia. The mission I have chosen to accept for my current adventure is a little different, albeit just as odd. Think Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants meets the travelling Gnome from Amelie; but with a somewhat fashionably challenged Guinness jacket. Why, you ask? Dunno! This is just how I roll. This mission will likely culminate in a stop at the Guinness Brewery in Dublin, where I am certain the locals will mutter "bloody lookin’ edjit tourists" under their breath. For those of you on facebook, check out the group Clan of the Travelling Black Gold, for updates on the ongoing saga of the jacket. For those of you not on facebook, whatcha doin’? The latest stops for the jacket have included the statue of David, the Basilica of Saint Francis, Firenze at sunset, and the Duomo of Firenze (look for a rather ingenious, if I do say so myself, photo through the hood of the jacket!). Thanks for having me (this was a long one!).

I miss you all and hope you’re well.
Love, Jen

Greetings

2007-11-10T02:26:00.000-07:00

Hello!

If you have received this e-mail, it means you are cool enough to partake in updates on my current adventure (to include parts of Italy (3.5 weeks), Barcelona (5 days), Senegal & The Gambia (8 days), Lisbon (1 day), London (2 days), and Ireland (3 weeks)). Be advised that unlike last year, I don’t expect to be writing about whacking lions, fighting bush fires or rescuing train wreck victims, however I do always manage to get into the odd scrape here and there. I can promise you a lot of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and possibly a blow by blow of every bottle of wine and glass of Guinness to grace this throat. If you know someone who has not received this e-mail, please don’t tell them as I wouldn’t want anyone to think they are not cool! J

If you would like to stop receiving these e-mails, please send me the proverbial feck-off e-mail!

So it is the morning of Tuesday, November 6 and I am still packing up my apartment (yup, the week leading up to my departure was pretty busy, not to mention that karaoke was far more important than packing) when I discover that I have lost my Visa card. After some major, but short-lived panic (because I have no time for panic), EB and I mail my boxes (probably with my Visa packed in one of them) and board the airport bus one hour later than I had planned. Now, for those of you who know me or have travelled with me, you’ll recall that I am anal about arriving at airports at least (if not more than) 2 hours before departure. So, with the loss of my Visa (which I am also always anal about) and my arrival at check-in a mere hour and 10 minutes before departure, I am totally off my anal game (odd choice of words there, I know).

So off my game was I that when the check-in chicky told us we could go to the First Class Lounge (cuz I have a special card) I was all over it! I was utterly blinded by the free food and free internet and even convinced EB that we had enough time. I’m here to tell you that we didn’t, in fact, have enough time, folks! As we approached our gate with 20 minutes to spare (loads of time, I figured, even though boarding time had come and gone 20 minutes ago) we were joking about how they’d be paging us any time now. Even when a frantic looking airport man grabbed the gal beside us saying she was the last passenger to board a plane to Munich, we laughed about the fact that at least we weren’t going to Munich. Then we saw our own frantic looking airport personnel standing at our empty gate. She said "Are you Lee Eunbyeol?" EB nodded affirmative and we were ushered on to the plane in a wave of panic to the sounds of "Ee Eunbyeol shi kabang chim neriji baseyo" crackling over 5 radios simultaneously, which roughly translates into "Stop taking the bags off! I repeat! Stop taking the bleedin bags off!!!!" So that, in a very long-winded way was how the trip began!

Despite that near miss, we did finally make it to Firenze and are relaxing our asses off! The apartment we rented is not too small (at least by Korean standards) and the hot water sorta works (read that as scalding for three minutes and then freezing)! We are living right next to the market which means fresh pasta and pastry every day. Yesterday we visited Galileo’s tomb in the Basilica di Santa Croce (which was pretty cool because of the irony of the fact that the dude was excommunicated and then buried in a church) and then went to hang out the house of Dante Alighieri (which is one of my favourite places in Florence) and the nearby church in which he met his muse, Beatrice. Life is beautiful, indeed.

I hope you are all well.

P.S. I have tried not to think too much about work except I had dream in which Little John (who is 6 years old, by the way) brought beer to school to "drink after school with Kevin K" and I was forced to scold them, all the while having a hard time keeping a straight face and wanting to drink the beer with them.

heros in a half shell

2006-09-30T02:21:00.001-06:00

Picture it: our last night in Europe. Lee goes to take money out from an ATM on the Champs-
Elysse in Paris. Suddenly she is inundated by small children with magazines trying to block the screen and press buttons. D'Arc and I stood dumbfounded and were only pulled from our reverie when we heard a thud (none of us are sure whether it was Lee's arm or somebody's head) and Lee screaming "what are they doing!!" as she started throwing elbows. Luckily we were able to shoo them away and we all emerged un-pickpocketed. I am sure those of you who know Leah would have paid big money to witness her cracking the skulls of street urchins!!! It was a priceless end to the trip!

By the way, we did manage to see a few things in Firenze (despite all the gelato and vino!). I also had some quiet time at the Casa di Dante, learning about the inspirations for the Divine Comedy and we went on a hunt for the statue of Pope Joan in the Basilica in Siena (unfortunately a lot of the popes looked a little feminine so we are still in disagreement as to whether we found her or not). Venice was absolutely magical; the water sparkled and even the air was romantic!

And then (making up for our lethargy in Italy) we had two action packed days in Paris which included Napoleon's obscenely huge Arc, the fantastically gothic Notre Dame (complete with gargoyles sticking their tongues out at me), the Eiffel Tower (with its heart pounding elevator), and of course the utterly astounding Louvre (in which I could have happily spent four or five years in the Mesopotamia area alone). And with our viewing of the Mona Lisa at the Louvre, we completed a full tour of all the major works of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, and Michelangelo (the party dude). Oh yeah, I know all about fine art!

I am currently in Zurich awaiting my flight to see my brothers and new niece, Shannon in Bangkok. So, thus ends the public record of my travels. It has been a friggin' whirlwind from train wrecks to Star Wars to Ninja Turtles. Thank you all for reading.

Love,

Jen

embarrassment of riches

2006-09-21T02:18:00.001-06:00

Caio peeps!

I have made it to the land of naked statues, very rich priests, and all the pasta a girl could possibly dream of.

Yup, I have met Leah and D'Arcy in Italy and after three days in Roma and brief sojourn to Pompeii, we are now taking it easy in Firenze! Tough friggin' life, eh?

Rome is beautiful, and although there are millions of F.T.'s (fecking tourists), the city kind of saunters to to its own cobblestreeted pulse. We visited all the traps we could get our greedy little FT hands on:

The old Roman Forum-where Julius Caesar set up the first Senate, where great orators like Cicero expounded on about nothing, and where I got some great Live Long and Prosper photos in front of the Temple of Romulus.

THE Colosseum-where the ghosts of over 2 million dead vie with all the tour guides for attention. It was awe-inspiring just because of its sheer size and the imaginary stench of blood and decay.

The Palatino Hill -where Rome was founded after twins Romulus and Remus washed up and were suckled by the infamous she-wolf, after being sent to their deaths. I learned recently that this she-wolf may actually have been a hooker cuz the word lupin means wolf or whore...personally, I think the wolf seems much more likely!

The Vatican-where all the money put into St. Peter's could easily wipe out poverty three times over! I mean does God really need slabs of purple marble worth $17000US per square inch? The complete lack of actual spirituality aside, though, the Basilica and the Sistine Chapel were absolutely stunning.

Pompeii (the city that was completely buried by ash and volcanic debris when Mount Vesuvius erupted in 79AD) was very interesting. Because the town was covered immediately in ash, it was preserved virtually intact (including the people's bodies). This proved a little overwhelming for me when I came face to face with a cast of a poor lad's body; you could still see the look of anguish on his face.

We are now hanging in Florence, another city that suffers from an embarrassment of cultural riches, and we have managed to see absolutely nothing yet (which might be a record, cuz there really is a museum on every corner!). If we can get our lazy asses away from the gelato for a moment, we might actually go see Michelangelo's David this afternoon. Qapla!

Love you all,

Jen

P.S. Lee says hi (but only to those of you she knows). D'Arcy, on the other hand says hi to everyone!!! :)

beaucoup du Star Wars

2006-09-14T02:15:00.000-06:00

Since I last wrote, there have been

-dunes galore (where the Sahara sand looks and feels like butterscotch pudding on your feet-in a good way!, and the silence is deafening),

-a moonlit camel ride to an ancient fort (where I discovered that 17 pre-emptive inhaler hits are just about enough to allow me on a camel for two hours),

-a rainy day at a Mediterranean beach resort called Telemaque (where Dirty Dancing meets EuroTrash 1992, and they employ perpetually happy people called Animators who force everyone to learn the cha cha),

-the third biggest Roman colosseum (where Aman, Luke, and I enjoyed our Gladitorial deput and got trapped in the creepy catacombes during a torrential downpour),

-and, you guessed it... beaucoup du Star Wars!!! Our first stop after the Sahara was the town of Tataouine, and unfortunately I gotta say that there seems to be a reason why its namesake is an Outer Rim planet that everyone (including Luke Skywalker) is trying to get off of! It was a bit of a one-horse town, but the forts and hilltop villages around it were wicked!

From Tataouine, we went to the island of Jerba for the aforementioned rainy day at the beach. Unfortunately, this day was further complicated by the fact that my system finally overloaded and treated me to a fever and then lots of yuckiness (which seems to have stuck around for the last 3 days). Luckily, in the hands of Aman and Luke, I am on a course of meds guaranteed to kill any unwanted biode in my body, with a course of malaria meds standing at the ready. For those of you still worried, I promise to go to the doctor soon. :)

Once I got sick, I decided the only thing that could possibly help was a trip to Luke Skywalker's actual childhood home. It is a former troglodyte home (an underground dwelling consisting of large, open air pits connected by a series of tunnels) which has been converted into a hotel. Yes, this is the actual set used in 1976 where they filmed Luke drinking his blue milk with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. I slept at Luke's house and ate dinner in Luke's kitchen!!! How cool is that? I also directed Aman and Luke in a little re-enacting of the scene where Beru (played very convincingly by Aman) asks Luke (played coincidentally by Luke (now can you see why I let him come along)) to remind his uncle to get a translator who can speak Bocce! Sign up for copies of that video right now, people!!!

I hope you are all well,

A short time ago...

2006-09-05T02:13:00.000-06:00

I have hooked up with Aman and Lou and all is good in the land of sun, sand, Dido, and Star Wars.

With the events of Zimbabwe seeming like those of another life (perhaps another galaxy), I have embarked on a Star Wars mission in Tunisia, from which I have only just popped my head up for air, and plan not to give up until I have blue milk in my hand served by Aunt Beru herself. (NB: for those of you not quite on board with the Jedi-speak, I apologise in advance for this e-mail and those to follow until I reach Italy).

Tunis was beautiful and we managed to make our way to the Carthage, the ancient city of the tragic Queen Dido (who killed herself after the Trojan prince Aeneas decided he had better things to do-things like founding Italy-and left her). I do have another theory as to why he left her, cuz if all the statues we found of her are correct, it seems as though she might not have had a head in life!

From Tunis, we journied southwest to an oasis town called Tozeur, to get our first taste of all things Lucas. This came in the form of the actual set of Mos Espa (the town where little Ani slaved for Watto and won his freedom in the podrace). I had the Star Wars theme blasting from the little headphones of my MP3 player as we walked up. I got some wonderful photos with some strategically placed R2, 3PO and Boba Fett PEZZ dispensers! It was friggin' wicked! From there we travelled to the actual Lars Homestead (where now teenage Ani learns of his mother's near death and gets very annoying after he kills all the sand people). As you may have guessed, this was also very wicked! Then off to Star Wars Canyon (where R2 trundled along and got taken by the wee Jawas). Wickedness all around!

We are now in a small town called Douz, and will embark on a two day 4WD camping journey into the Sahara Desert tomorrow.

Love you all and hope you're well.
Jendu Hothu

twilight zone

2006-09-01T02:10:00.001-06:00

I am in Zurich and holy man is the internet fast (the keyboard is freaking me out, though cuz the exclamation mark eluded me for the last 10 minutes and the z and y have switched places)!

Thank you so much for all your heartfelt replies to my last e-mail. My last three days in Africa were spectacular and my two weeks there have changed me forever. On Monday, a group of us volunteers went to Zambia to visit an orphanage. I played a lot of soccer with some very young lads (and was completely out-classed) and then taught them all the Vulcan sign for Live Long and Prosper (that photo is definitely a keeper!). It was a friggin blast and did a lot to lift my spirits even further!

Tuesday and Wednesday I went on an overnight canoe trip down the Zambezi River with Kath and Lisa and a beautiful man aptly-named Blessed. Now I imagine many of you are wondering what the hell I was thinking going on a canoe (given my penchant for A. sea sickness a.k.a. 'strokes' and B. not being a very good canoeist-as Bon will attest after our Ligurian debacle). But I survived and I was even made captain of my boat (and no it wasn't just me in my boat). And despite me as captain, Kath and I actually made it to our destination. It was absolutely beautiful, as there were hippos (unpredictably) popping out of the water everywhere and elephants crashing near our tent in the middle of the night (and in the morning, for which I was far too exhausted to even think about opening my eyes to witness; the sound of Kath and Lisa enjoying the sight was good enough for me!).

I have just spent the day in Zurich (spending most of my time mesmerized by the Alps) and have actually found my limit in terms of chocolate consumption. Who knew I actually had one!

I fly to Frankfurt and then on to Tunis (for some full-on Star Wars action) tonight! Bring on the Bocce, Aunt Beru, and Mos Espa!!!

Love ya,

Jen

To all the Worwickers, congrats on completing the production. Your people rock and don't let anybody tell you different!!

Yes, Dusty I did receive the photos from Autumn. Please thank her for me and congrats on not getting fired.

Omi, how are you doing?????

Jiggles, save all that craziness for our next Noraebang action!

Lee, I hope your mom is doing better. Can't wait to see you! Only two weeks. Now get back to studying, Missy!

Jo, I promise to try to look after myself, but your sister is quite the bad influence!

Faaather, good work winning the 20 bucks. I can always use the slippers!

Mammy, I miss you! Can't wait to see you in Bangkok!!!

How to refresh hope

2006-08-30T02:08:00.001-06:00

On Sunday, two trains (a passenger train and a cargo train) crashed head on about 30km from our lion lodge. It is estimated that 89 people are dead. Five rail cars burned and it took them 8 hours to put out the flames.

Another volunteer (Kathryn-from Seattle) and I went to the hospital with two of our managers to offer any help they might need. Upon arrival at the hospital, we were met with a sea of hundreds of family members waiting outside the gate to see if their loved ones were okay.

The hospital was complete and utter chaos, but with an underlying type of organization that it seems would only work in an African hospital. Soon after our arrival, a helicopter came in. We rushed out with gurneys and wheelchairs and I helped a man with an injured leg out of the chopper and then pushed him into the hospital. Next came people in ambulances and again with the wheelchair, this time to help a gentleman with broken ribs, named Luciano. It was frenzied work.

When the second chopper came in, I grabbed a blanket and again rushed to the scene. It wasn't until I was within about 10 feet of the helicopter that I heard someone say "they are bodies". I was absolutely crestfallen. The hope that had ballooned as we all ran towards the chopper, seeped out of me. I put my, now useless, blanket over one of the bodies and went back to the hospital.

For the remainder of the day, we helped by giving food and water to everyone in the hospital. We started with the crash victims, then moved on to the regular wards. There were two women in the female ward who will stay with me for the rest of my life. We didn't speak at all, but there was so much strength coming from the eyes of their emaciated frames that I couldn't help but be awed.

Our last stop with the food was the maternity ward and we were able to go into the premature room where a baby girl the size of my hand was sleeping in her mother's arms. She didn't have to hang out in an impersonal incubator, just in a very warm room with her mom. It was beautiful. The mother asked us to think of a name for her and we came up with Precious. And when Precious woke up and opened her eyes, it seemed all the tragedy of the day had been washed away and hope was back.

Love you all,

Jen

How to fight a raging bushfire

2006-08-22T02:06:00.001-06:00

First, get a stick.

Now, I know this may seem rather counter- intuitive, given that wood is actually fuel for fire. And I'm not gonna lie to ya...I was thinking exactly the same thing as I ran at the fire armed with my stick.

Next, name your stick.

I chose the name Bram for mine (as in Stoker-again maybe a little ironic given that I wanted to put the fire out and not stoke it, but it was MY stick) , but anything you choose will be fine (it is only essential that you name your stick, otherwise it will not help you!).

Next, beat the fire as hard as you can with your newly named stick.

Last, run like hell...especially when the flames get to be twice as high as you!

Repeat as needed.

So, we were having a regular day on Saturday at the Lion Encounter when we got a call that flames were nearing out lodge. Our Duty Guide, Nathan, piled three volunteers (me, Nicola-from England, and Zowi-from the Netherlands) and four Zimbabwean staff members in the van to go scope it out. We were armed only with two litres of water and an axe. I figured we were just going to check it out (for evacuation purposes) and then call in the fire brigade! How wrong was I?! Nathan said we would fight it if it wasn't too big and I found myself feeling that an axe and what amounted to a small puddle of water might not be entirely effective. Then the lad busted out with the idea of using sticks...

Confused but undaunted, I charged into the bush after Nathan (who used his axe to cut me a nice leafy Bram), ran full-tilt towards the flames, and proceeded to whack the crap out of everything on fire. I even perfected a wonderful slap-shot technique to douse the fire (keeping close to my Edmonton roots!). I was so charged with adrenalin that it was a least an hour until I noticed that my hands were bleeding. Frickin' amazing!!!

The fire brigade never did show up and in the end about 40 locals and us three foreigners (armed with Bram, Sam, and Danny) defeated the beast!!! I know I used the word exhilarating to describe my experience with Phoenix, but it doesn't get much more exhilarating than fighting a fire with a stick.

I hope this finds everyone well! Thank you very much to those of you who replied to me, as I love to hear from you. Sorry these e-mails are so few and far between but be assured that I am thinking of you and miss you all!

For those keeping track, I received my first bite from a lion on Sunday. It was from our 5 month old Amanzi who is so cute you forget he is a wild beast, but he did his best to remind me! Thankfully I was wearing a sweater, so he didn't break the skin, but I have a nice bruise on my right bicep.

Last night I went out for dinner and ate some warthog, crocodile and a disgusting, black, size of my index finger mopane worm (Survivor, here I come!). I went on a game-drive to Botswanna today (Tuesday) and got to see zebras, giraffes, warthogs, elephants, hippos, impalas and anything else you might remember from The Lion King! Life is good!

How to approach a lion...

2006-08-17T02:01:00.000-06:00

I have finally made it to Zimbabwe, and (more import-
antly) I have finally found a relatively fast internet connection (it has taken me about 30 minutes just to log on!). Welcome to Africa, Jen!!!

I have just completed my third day as a volunteer with the lions and I often catch myself realising what I am actually doing. Everything is incredibly surreal. The landscape looks like a painting, with powder blue, cloudless skies (not to mention the punishing sun-in the winter, no-less), and the grass is that really long, hay-coloured stuff that looks like goldilocks!

I received my first and highly impressive scratch on my first day (from a 3-month old pride-of-the-Pride in the making, named Langa). No, no, lions are not, in fact, just really big cats! They are actually just razor sharp teeth and claws in a bed of fur, even the 'wee' 3 monthers! And it turns out that it is not a good idea to put your face on their belly (even if you really want to!). :)

Also on my first day, I was taught the proper method of approaching a, nearly full-grown and fully capable of disemboweling you in one swipe of their paw, lion. The head guide at our park, Ian, took me up to see our oldest cubs (the 18 monthers) and I will admit that the fear meter was pretty low-they are just cats after all, aren't they? Ian then proceeded to explain that one swipe of the paw was equivalent to 1 tonne of pressure. Uh-huh...fear meter starting to register. He explains that I must establish dominance by disciplining the lions with a whack across the mouth if they try to bite me, scratch me, or even look at me the wrong way. And I'm thinking...isn't that gonna just piss him off even more? He tells me to kneel down near the shoulder blade of our biggest cub (if you can call this ginormous razor with fur a cub!). The cub's name is Phoenix, but he is also known as Mr. Grumpy. Okay, fear meter through the roof, here people! And it is at this point that Ian reminds me that they can sense fear (yeah, too late, Buddy!). So, I kneel down and start to pat Grumpy Pants on his back. He starts to wag his tail (which, if you're familiar with cats, is not a good thing). Ian tells me to continue petting. Alrighty, then! Grumpy Pants starts to growl! Continue? Okey dokey...I don't really need my right arm, do I? Grumpy Pants turns and snarls and at that point my heart is just pounding in my ears and Ian tells me to whack him. Huh? Whack him? Whack him, Jen! So I whacked him! I hit the poor lad across the snout and told him 'No Phoenix!' (in my best teacher voice). And would you believe, in some crazy rule of the natural world, that earned me the respect on this razor with fur. It was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life!

Love you all and hope you're well.

Jen

The end!

2004-12-16T01:59:00.000-07:00

So I talked to the Oracle at Delphi and she figures I'm doing a-okay. Either that or I am gonna get eaten by a hydra tomorrow! You never can really tell with these cryptic mediums, can ya?

I am on the Island of Santorini and it might actually be the most beautiful place I have ever set foot on. You can't really go wrong with a deep blue sky overy white washed houses on the cliff of a sea-filled caldera, can ya? Today I was the only one on the so-called Red Beach and it was amazing. I know I'm a geek and all, but it really felt like a Martian landscape with the sheer red volcanic cliffs and the red sand.

Greece is absolutely beautiful, but the Fates have decided that getting to see Troy is not in my near future, as the bleedin' ferry schedules are not gonna work for me. Alas, we are at the whim of the gods, aren't we?!

All that means is that I'll have to come back, which I am more than willing to do. Although from the sounds of it, I'll be coming back alone, as my 'Classical Tid-bits' have not been so well received by a few of my readers (who would not be on board with a relatively brief historical overview of every single thing we'd see!). ;)

This also means that I am coming home three days early (and likely a long time before your postcards will arrive), so start pulling that Guinness! If you're in the area, the Fire Party is on for Dec 23rd!

Love you all and see some of you soon!

Thanks for reading my drivel. I hope you enjoyed it a little!

Master Jendu Hothu

all Greek to me

2004-12-11T01:57:00.000-07:00

My last day in Cairo went off without incident cuz I had finally mastered the "feck off" glare and I was able to enjoy the sun setting over the Sphinx in relative peace.

And now I have made it to Greece and I absolutely love it! Athens is a beautiful city, albeit bloody freezing (how will I ever survive Edmonton?) and bloody expensive (damn the Euro!).

Just 24 hours after watching the sun set behind the pyramids, I got to see it again behind the Acropolis (how bleedin' cool is life?!). The Acropolis was pretty cool but, thus far, the big difference I have found between here and Egypt is that you are not permitted inside most of the structures here in Greece and that really takes some of the magic away for me. Additionally, there is so much reconstruction going on that there is sometimes more rebar and girders than there is marble. Having said all that, however, the Parthenon and especially the Erechtheion friggin' rocked. The Erechtheion is the sanctuary of Athena and Poseidon and (as I'm sure everyone remembers from their intro Classics course, right Lee?!) is the place where Athena and Poseidon squared off to see who the city would be named after. Athena produced an olive tree, thus kicking Poseidon's ass (cuz all he could muster after splitting the ground with his trident was a bleedin' horse), and ensuring that the capital of Greece was not Poseidon's.

Okay, okay, I'm sure I've bored you all to tears. Next stop was the Ancient Agora which was the main centre of Athens, where those toga clad Athenians would meet to hang or do business, and you could almost hear Socrates expounding on about something!

Tomorrow, I head to Delphi to see if the Oracle has any news for me, then on on to Mycenae (of Agamemnon/Clytaemnestra fame-okay, I won't go into any more history, but some of you might remember that those were the names of my fishes, and she ended up killing him. Coincidence? I think not! And yes, Clytaemnestra was the fish I performed the autopsy on).

I am having a little trouble getting used to this solo traveller thing. Today, I tried to set up my camera for a shot of me in front of the Parthenon and as I was waiting for it to take, a huge gust of wind almost took my camera over the wall. That photo will either be of the sky with maybe a bit of the Parthenon in the corner, or of my horrified face as I realise my camera is going over the 20 foot wall. Anybody who wants a copy of that 'keeper', let me know.

I hope everyone is doing well and getting ready for Christmas!

Love,

Jen

A-dri-enne

2004-12-08T01:55:00.001-07:00

So, I am sitting on the steps of Luxor's finest hotel, minding my own business when a bunch of sedans and minivans pull up and important looking people get out to rush about frantically. One of the people, a Chinese woman in glowing garments, with big hair and equally big glasses, looks vaguely familiar to me, but I can't place her so I put her from my mind. I sorta felt like I was far too calm to be in the midst of all these rushers, so I got up to move and upon doing so, I noticed Canadian flags on all of the vehicles. Curiosity piqued, I told one of the lads (who was standing still for a second) that I was Canadian and asked him what was going. He got very excited and said "The Governor General of Canada is in this store, I'm sure she'd love to meet you.". Internal dialogue: "Shit Jen, remember our Governor General's name! Quickly!". So we go in and I shake hands with an older white chick, thinking "I don't know who the heck you are", when she turns to the woman beside her (whom I had been completely ignoring until then, and who turns out to be the Chinese woman I had seen earlier) and says "Jennifer, may I present the Right Honourable..blah, blah, blah". We feebly shake hands (she's feeble cuz she knows I'm an idiot who can't remember her name and I'm feeble cuz I know she knows I'm and idiot and can't remember her name) and I get on outa there. And thus ends my illustrious meeting with Adrienne Clarkson, Governor General and Commander-In-Chief of Canada. Of course, Aman showed up about 10 minutes later and said "Did you see Adrienne Clarkson?".

We are back in Cairo and are blowing all our money on shopping. Aman has bought a lot of jewellery!! I have had no proposals in about two days and am feeling a little low about myself!! There have unfortunately, been far too many occasions where feels have been copped! Very, very disturbing for such an innocent as me, I tell you!!! Aman has taken to performing body guard duties and walks one pace behind and one pace to the side of me looking very menacing with her dark glasses.

Luxor was amazing and overwhelming cuz there is so much to see. The Valley of the Kings, The Valley of the Queens, The Tombs of the Nobels, Luxor Temple, The Temples of Karnak, etc, etc... it is easy for a girl to get what they call "Pharaonic Phatique". This did happen to Aman on one occasion when (in some rather nice ruins of a Temple to Hathor-the Goddess of Love) she said, through clenched jaw, "Seen one temple, seen 'em all, Jen.".

The tombs were very cool, claustrophobic affairs with FULL COLOUR hieroglyphs, everywhere. We had seen some colour before, but nothing prepares you for beautifully painted scenes of gods, pharaohs, animals, food, you name it, all over the ceilings and walls. It was amazing. We did have one kind of Indiana Jones opportunity and failed miserably when we were far too scared to continue further than 10 feet into a very dark, creepy tunnel. Good thing I didn't go into Archaeology!!!

So now we're on our last day together before Aman heads back to Ghana and I head to Greece. Luckily, there is much more shopping to be done (in the biggest market I have ever seen)!

Hope you're all well.

Jen

The Empty Monty

2004-12-03T01:51:00.000-07:00

I would like to say that I have taken all of your suggestions in to consideration regarding the avoidance of these lads and, although I have made a few breakthroughs, the marriage proposals keep pouring in. The most recent of which was from Aymen the Silversmith and included a caveat that I could live where ever I want while he stays in Egypt. Aman believes I can do better and must under no circumstances make any eye contact at all. So from now on, she can lead me around while I look at my feet.

One of my breakthroughs involved a certain individual named Monty and believe me when I say... All roads lead to Monty. We were in Aswan (an otherwise tranquil town right on the Nile and home to The Temple of Isis, the most magical temple I have even seen) minding our own business and trying to find a price on one of these cruises. We had been forewarned about Monty by the Kiwis so were leery of him to begin with and wanted to book somewhere that didn't involve him. Unfortunately that is impossible in Aswan as the man is absolutely everywhere. Every travel agent we went in to would call him and once he knew we were trying to circumvent him, he started to tail us. The psycho bleedin' followed us! He would stop at nothing to make a sale on one of his tours to anywhere in Egypt, so we just bleedin' booked with him to get him off our backs. Aman did get a chance to tell him off and she felt better, but his response was 'I am sorry but I am very stressed. Do you need a hotel in Luxor? I can get you a good price.' If I were to say that I needed to go to the bathroom, he would try to get a percentage on the toilet paper or even the water I used in the flush. Now I say I made a breakthrough cuz at least he didn't try to come on to me and I was so successful at showing him my disdain that he only talked to Aman.

Luckily the cruise took our minds off The Monty. This was what ya call livin' outside your means, people!!! I don't think I have ever eaten so well in my life (I am still too full a day later) and our cabin had two bathrooms (that is ONE each!!). So what if the beers were the same price as a room in the hotel we are staying at now, they had chocolate mousse for dessert!!! The crew were very nice for the most part (although a few of them knew we were interlopers and should be treated accordingly) and one of the waiters even brought me a list of English words he had written in his matchbook to check his pronunciation. There were, unfortunately a few occasions where Aman and I had some trouble adapting to how the other half live. One in particular involved a certain Oriental Night in which the cruisers dressed up as Egyptians (who, to my knowledge, are not oriental) for a dinner and a dance. Now neither Aman or I had gotten the memo about the costumes and the look on our faces when we entered the dining room was one of shock and dismay and then complete empathetic embarrassment as they all started to dance together. It was one of those instances where I really wish I had a video camera cuz I am sure the memory of it will haunt me forever but if I could actually see it again I might be able to get over it. It was a surreal experience and definitely worth the $55US a night.

We are back in budget land again in Luxor, home of the Valley of the Kings, the Temples of Luxor, and a whole embarrassment of riches. Life is good!!!

I hope you're all well.

Love,

Jen

Ah...Jen...when will you learn?

2004-11-29T01:49:00.000-07:00

Well, we survived the desert and although there were no camels (except for a baby one that sorta resembled a hairy embryo on four legs), I did run into some trouble with another Egyptian laddie!

First off, the White Desert is by far one of the most tranquil, beautiful, stunning, romantic places I've ever been in my life. It consists of a beige sandy floor covering the bases of and flowing around huge calcitic (chalk-like) monoliths of many different shapes. The structures were formed by wind erosion as the wind picked up the sand and basically made a natural sand paper effect on the rocks. We were lucky enough to have a full moon on our night sleeping under the stars and by the moonlight the desert looked like an arctic or lunar landscape. It friggin' rocked and I wanted to stay much longer.

We hooked up with two Kiwi gals (gotta love the flightless, nocturnal birds) and an American for the trip and had a friggin' blast. The trouble came when, of course unbeknownst to me, our guide Shaban took some sorta liking to me and it wasn't until later speculation about his actions did I realise how creepy he really was. We all slept in a row, but I was at the end, so he moved his mattress beside mine, and then every time I tried to roll over he would be looking at me, and THEN he kept tapping me. I seriously thought this was all innocent and that maybe he just wanted to make sure I was still there under my fourteen blankets (it was COLD in the desert), but after a lot of retrospect his true lecherousness became apparent. Of course, this was after I had given him my e-mail address. What am I, 13 years old???!

So, there you have it...my luck with the Egyptian men continues!!! Luckily I was too stupid to realise what was going on at the time so it didn't detract from my wonderful time.

We have gotten the heck outa Cairo and are way down south in Aswan now. Maybe I'll do a little better here.

Love ya all.

Jen

Pyramids and Scams!

2004-11-25T01:46:00.000-07:00

After two full days in Cairo, I sorta feel as though I've established a feel for the place. I have learned some very hard lessons about trust!!

The first night I got here I was alone and was befriended by a man named Sam who claimed I was part of his family cuz he has a friend who used to live in Toronto. The next thing I know, I am in his tour agency drinking mint tea and talking to the friend on the phone (he is telling me that I should never trust Egyptian men). Suddenly I find myself in a cab with Sam heading to some far off duty free store so I can boot for him cuz (and I'm gonna blame it on my jet-lagged stupor and my Canadian-ness) I had just agreed to use my passport to get the guy liquor and smokes (which are unavailable to Egyptians at that price).

Now, of course I realise that the people here are just trying to make or save money and I likely have more money to spare than they do, but at the same time, I will admit to getting a little pissy when finding out that I paid 4 times what I could have paid! It is entirely my fault for not educating myself and it really is all part of the experience, but you'd think I'd be a little more savvy. For example, if a rather nice looking lad claiming to be a doctor of botanical research at the National Museum walks up to you and tells you the museum is closed until 11:30 so you'd be better off going to the bazaar for a while cuz they are having a sale (his wife and daughter are going to be there too!!!), you'd think some bells might go off saying that 'maybe there wouldn't be a botanist working at a museum dealing solely with antiquities'. But no, we let the guy show us to the 'government' store, assured him we would definitely come visit him in his museum office, and proceeded to buy the bleedin' place out (convinced that we were saving a bundle!!!). The moral of this story: never trust a botanist!

Now don't get me wrong, Aman and I are having a blast, but we have found that we need to readjust our personalities a little (okay, maybe only I have to readjust cuz Aman has adopted a full on Zen attitude about everything).

We thought we'd start things off big, so yesterday we went to the Giza Plateau to check out the only surviving Wonder of the Ancient World. The Pyramids were humblingly huge and very claustrophobic inside. It is unfathomable to me that they have been around for over 4500 years. We were able to go in the biggest one (for the Pharaoh Cheops) and were treated to a very steep and long climb up a passageway about the size of a TV only to find pretty much nothing at the top! Still, you gotta go inside, don't ya? Even if your thighs are really paying for it today!!! We also went to see the first pyramid ever made, called the Step Pyramid, at a site called Saqqara). There were far fewer people so it was a much more serene experience.

My favourite part of Giza was trying to convince one of the local salesmen that there were indeed fossils in the rocks. Even after I showed them to him he kept telling me "No animals, lady, only rocks." and he was even more incredulous when I tried to explain (as we stand in the middle of the desert) that these were marine animals so these rocks were originally in the ocean. Ah... the tough life of a paleontologist!

Today (after an expensive detour to the 'government' shop) we made it to the National Museum and were treated to an overwhelming array of artifacts. There were so many things stuffed in that building that it was hard to really see any of it. All of the stuff from Tutankhamen's tomb (including his death mask and tonnes of jewelry) was very well preserved and really cool. I went in to the Royal Mummy Room alone, as Aman refused and was in a state of interest, mixed with disbelief and a little of the heebie geebies if I stared too long at the faces of these long dead kings and queens.

Tomorrow we are heading into the desert for three days where I am likely to die of APC (or Asphyxiation due to Proximity to Camels), so I'll let you know how that goes!

Love y'all!

Lilliputian Dinos!

2004-11-22T01:42:00.000-07:00

I'm a zombie wandering around the Vienna airport at 5AM after the 12 hour flight from Bangkok. The flight was okay. I was pretty frickin' excited that I got my own TV with many movie choices, but as it turned out, the movie options weren't great, except for a Dinosaur Planet show about an 80 million year old Pyroraptor from southern Europe that gets swept away to an island inhabited by dwarf dinos. It was very Gulliver's Travels!!! The big downside of the flight was my neighbours. First there was the unbelievably loud talker behind me. I was very pleased when she finally fell asleep...until I realised that she is a bleedin' sleep-kicker! Then there was the older gentleman next to me...despite the fact that he had a bladder of steal (the man did not go to the bathroom once-in 12 hours!), there was one point where he jumped in his sleep, hit my arm and made me spill my water all over myself! I was a little too tired to really care (truthfully, I was too into the Pyroraptor!) and he didn't even bleedin' wake up! So between the kicker and the jumper it was quite an interesting flight. Hence my state of torpor.

Okay, kind of another boring update...but that is just cuz I haven't really done anything yet!!! You should all be very thankful that I don't have enough time left on this computer to go into great detail about the Pyroraptor!!!

Love you all,

Jen

...and the world's your oyster

2004-11-21T01:38:00.000-07:00

Good afternoon and welcome to our first official update!

I arrived in Bangkok on Saturday night and after being picked up at the airport by my big bro, we preceeded directly to the pub for a few pints (in true Duffy fashion)!

Today is my last day in Thailand and I have spent my time here just hangin out. I saw a very bad movie in the theatre yesterday, Ladder 49. My apologies to the few of you who might have enjoyed it (Leah!) but in my humble opinion it kinda sucked the big one!

WARNING: I'm gonna blather on about soccer for this whole paragraph...

Last night I was treated to what could have been a beautiful personal moment and huge triumph for Canadian Women's soccer. The Under-19 World Cup is being held in Thailand and Canada was actually one of the favourites (after losing 1-0 in extra time to the bleedin US in the final of last U-19 World Cup). Canada was playing China in one of the Quarter Finals. Our team is actually pretty good although it is not beautiful football by any stretch of the imagination. Anyhow, I said 'could have been' a beautiful personal moment and huge truimph for Canadian Women's soccer cuz it is pretty friggin' difficult for a team to win after their goalkeeper gets red-carded and gives up a penalty for taking down a Chinese striker in the box in the first minute of the game. Yeah, the first minute!!! I was bleedin' in shock. So they lost 3-1 and then had a big cry afterward. It was all very sad. On a more exciting note, in the other Quarter Final of the night, Brazil scored a wonderful header in the last second of regulation time against Germany and went on to beat them 4-2 in extra time! That was pretty.

OKAY, FOOTBALL DRIVEL OVER!

Well, that is my update-my day consisted of a movie about nothing and a lot of unluckiness on the pitch. One night in Bangkok!!! If you are in fact still reading, you are defintely to be commended.

I head to Vienna tonight and then off to Cairo where things shall get much more exciting (unless of course I witness another football match, in which case you shall all be subject to some more highly detailed football talk!!!).

I hope you're all well.

Jen