Goodbye From David

This is my last post. Our adventure is over. Tomorrow morning Terry and I go home. Our 6-month adventure abroad began in June 2014. Terry exited a doctoral class and described a Fulbright-winning professor who had stopped by to talk about it. Terry mused whether she might qualify for a Fulbright and learned the competition (for scholars who have doctoral degrees) is based on a 5-page project statement created by the applicant. My wife, never one to shy away from a challenge, had less than 6 weeks to the deadline to create and submit a project. The competition can take a year, beginning with national experts who certify the project is unique and feasible. And now several "thank yous," first to our Jordanian friends. The people of Jordan made us feel welcome, they were warm and generous. They repeatedly invited us into their homes and shared their culture, answering questions, explaining customs, religion, politics, and asking us about the United States. It is fitting that "you are welcome" was the English phrase I heard most often in Jordan. I would also like to say "thank you" to the many Americans I met serving our country a long way from home. Your hard work in helping protect and develop Jordan as a bulwark of stability in a difficult region is very impressive. Another "thank you" to the readers of this blog, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I want to close with a "thank you" to my beloved wife, without whom this adventure wouldn't have happened. Terry, a retired attorney, didn't have to return to school and become a nurse. That she did so in retirement, solely to help others, is indicative of how unusual she is, smart and compassionate. My wife's Fulbright included teaching 2 classes at the University of Jordan yet, on her own initiative, she volunteered almost every single day, taking on a boatload of additional challenges. When asked to be a keynote speaker for the United States Embassy in Jordan she accepted without a second's hesitation and spoke at public events too numerous to describe in my blog. We traveled throughout the Middle East and Europe where my wife helped, literally, thousands of students and professors through lectures and workshops she created. She was respected, admired, and loved by her students and colleagues. We were told many times we were the first Americans some had ever met. If ever a Fulbright Scholar fulfilled Senator Fulbright's goal to strengthen ties with other countries through cultural and educational exchanges, it was my high-energy, extraordinary wife. We were told this would be the adventure of a lifetime. It was. For these reasons, and so many more, I say shukhran (thank you).

Goodbye from Terry

First, I wasn't able to participate in my husband's wonderful blog (my Fulbright projects seemed to grow exponentially) but he didn't need any help, it was great. David was the backbone of this endeavor, supporting me every step of the way, beginning with my desire to return to school in retirement. David took care of so many details (apartment, transportation, establishing advance ties with Jordanians, ensuring car and house and mail could be left without worry, and more). Few spouses would support what I did, relocating us to a different state to attend school. David did double duty in the support department when emotionally the going got tough (and it did). I don't think words in a blog can adequately thank my husband but I hope this is a start. Second, thank you for hundreds of supportive emails. We received email from all over the world, and loved it. We respond to every email, including those asking about Fulbright programs, so keep them coming. Third, the baton passed to the next Fulbright Scholars, and David and I hope to meet you in Washington, D.C. (we were recommended to represent alumni at the pre-departure orientation). Finally, profound gratitude and thank you to the Fulbright Scholar Program (the United States Department of State, Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs) and the Jordanian-American Binational Commission. Thank you for the privilege of being a goodwill ambassador for my country, a responsibility I did not take lightly. My husband and I will be nostalgic forever about our time in the Middle East, a place as intoxicating as it is intense. I close with warmest wishes and prayers for Peace on Earth.

Trinity College (Dublin, Ireland)

We left Jordan. Our last week was bittersweet; sad to leave, happy to head home. We were invited to lunches and dinners and spent hours with friends reliving our funniest and fondest moments. We will never forget Jordan, the beautiful country of generous people who welcomed us so warmly. We flew to Paris, France, then to Dublin, Ireland. Terry's final Fulbright activity at Trinity College lasted longer than expected but was very successful and a happy way to end (especially since they, too, discussed a visiting professorship). While Terry was at Trinity I had a pint at Doyle's Pub, drawn there by the name of my late father. The owner, an Irishman who happened to be a fan of FDR and (of course) President Kennedy, spent over an hour with me discussing history and politics of Ireland and the USA. Our discussion began with the question I got everywhere: "What do you think of Donald Trump?" During Terry's Fulbright we saw the (indescribably extreme) wealth of oil-rich Gulf countries, saw shocking poverty up close, and experienced a range from old Europe grandeur to the pyramids; distinct places with unique customs, languages, religions, clothing, foods. Interestingly, all countries had in common...Adele on the radio. We loved Ireland's deep green vegetation and cheery people whose good-byes invariably included "may God bless you!" We walked Dublin for hours and because we liked our driver Niall Ward so much, hired him for more private touring of surrounding mountains and fishing villages. We explored beautiful parks (St. Stephen's Green, Phoenix, Fairview) and churches (Trinity, Christ, St. Patrick's, St. Catherine's, St. George's) and castles (Clontarf, Howth, Malahide) and walked the shopper's Mecca (Grafton Street). We strolled Trinity College with its beautiful library housing the Book of Kells. The Book of Kells, a national treasure, is an illuminated manuscript of 4 Gospels in Latin dated (approximately) to the year 800. I filled an important life goal: experience an Irish pub. The servers were friendly and welcoming, the food hearty and delicious. Terry and I tried a "full Irish breakfast" and later a "real Irish stew" (cooked in Guiness). We spent happy hours walking the beautiful city of Dublin, including the Temple Bar area, crossing the Ha'Penny Bridge traversing the Liffey River. The weather was pleasant until the end when the remnants of Jonas, the storm that buried the eastern USA in snow, brought wind gusts and rain. During our 6 months, Ireland was the last of the 16 countries in which Terry taught or we toured (Denmark, Norway, Estonia, Russia, Finland, Sweden, Jordan, United Arab Emirates, Oman, Turkey, Cyprus, Egypt, Czech Republic, Hungary, Israel, and Ireland). And now we head home.

Wadi Rum (Jordan)

Now it's official! When exiting Israel at passport control the young woman who took my passport frowned deeply. Given their fearsome reputation for intense questioning, the pucker factor was quite high. Then she looked up from my passport at me and said "you're prettier than your photo" so let the record reflect henceforth and forevermore that to Israeli border authorities I'm prettier than my photo.

And let the "record" also reflect my wife may have achieved a first: Wadi Rum in high heels. Now to Wadi Rum. Like Arizona's Grand Canyon only from the opposite perspective of being on a vast desert floor looking up, no amount of words will adequately describe it but here's one: spectacular. The red sand, the sand dunes, and other-worldly rock formations are on an absolutely overwhelming scale. The mountain-size formations look like sculptures stretched out as far as I could see. Everything was on such a huge scale that I put my wife's hand in mine and we just stood there, marveling at the complete and utter lack of a single sound. We couldn't see anything alive in any direction (although at one point a herd of goats came running toward us from out of nowhere - Saleh said they were looking for food). Saleh and I had been in touch for months. Saleh is a Bedouin whose family has lived in Wadi Rum for generations. Terry and I took a cab for the hour ride from Aqaba and Saleh welcomed us into his home with the customary glass of sweet hot tea. His wife introduced herself to my wife and the two women engaged in the now-familiar kisses on cheeks (interestingly, the number of kisses varies by country) and asking about each other's children. We met some of his children and saw his camels. Saleh and his wife hosted us for a lunch that included salads and (the ubiquitous) hummus. Then off we went on our off road tour. Saleh showed us his family's camp (there are about 20 such "camps," groups of family tents), where his family has lived since his grandparents' grandparents. Interestingly, USAID provided solar panels. The camps are located in rock indentations for protection against the elements (and probably a defensive posture). Saleh showed us where he sleeps (an outside sand dune) during the summer and where one of his friends lives year-round (in a cave). He showed us petroglyphs from when the Nabateans used the area as a trade route, and Islamic-themed rock carvings dating from the time of Prophet Mohammed (PBUH). We also saw where the movies Lawrence of Arabia and The Martian were filmed. We came within 5-10 miles of Saudi Arabia and asked Saleh about the consequences were we to cross over ("not good"). He drove up and down a sand dune where I was instructed to remove my shoes and socks to walk on the pure red sand, which I did, and it was wonderful. The sun and moon were both visible and added to our peaceful afternoon. The time to head to the airport arrived too soon. Aqaba is a beautiful port and resort city at the head of the narrow Gulf of Aqaba, an offshoot of the Red Sea. It is filled with luxurious hotels, overlooking Israel and Egypt at the junction of Saudi Arabia. Our day ended with a late night flight home to Amman where we will spend our final days in beautiful Jordan.

University of Tel Aviv (Israel)

Terry and I spent 2 nights in Yafo and 2 in Tel Aviv. Terry lectured Tel Aviv University faculty on research methodology then how to write the research for publication. This topic is crucial because publications increase a country's credibility in sciences. My wife, as usual, was warmly welcomed. Interestingly, the dean's speciality was "transcultural nursing" so my wife was asked to give an additional lecture on her 15-countries-in-6-months Fulbright experience. They were spellbound. After Terry completed lecturing a nice brunch reception was held in her honor and I was included in my role of hanger-on-in-chief. The faculty asked Terry many intelligent questions.

During our time in central Israel we toured the area. I was surprised by many things, among them: The American Christians who came from Maine in the mid 1800s to form a colony and brought wooden huts with them to live in, that pork and shrimp are available, that everywhere we looked people were walking and bicycling. Also, Yafo existed as a port over a thousand years before Jesus and was the port from which Jonah departed for his run-in with the whale. It is a largely Arab city and we had ample opportunity to practice Arabic - something I didn't expect. There was a flea market and numerous artist galleries in Yafo. Tel Aviv was as modern as Yafo was old. There is a coastal promenade similar to Cyprus. We saw the spot where ships with refugees docked illegally after World War II. Opposite the Mediterranean Sea pedestrian walkway are high rise businesses. All embassies are located in Tel Aviv, not the capital (Jerusalem). There is a distinct young European feel and the usual traffic that accompanies cosmopolitan cities. We saw the spot where Yitzhak Rabin was murdered, and the poignant nearby memorial. After Tel Aviv we returned to Eilat to cross back into Jordan. We saw the Dead Sea and Jordan mountains from the Israeli side and retraced our steps to enter Jordan and catch our flight back to Amman. Before we flew back, however, we toured the magnificent Wadi Rum, which I'll describe in a separate post.

Jerusalem (Israel)

Jerusalem! Where to begin? Our 10-hour tour barely skimmed the surface but was a great introduction to this magical place. I told my wife it's my favorite destination of our adventure. What impressed me is the walled old city is every bit as historic as the ruins we've seen elsewhere, but there's nothing ruined: It's vibrant, thousands of years old, with an unparalleled mix of cultures and religious sites. We approached from the highway from Tel Aviv and I was surprised to see groves of trees lining Judean hillsides, beautiful yet varied from what I've seen in Israel or Jordan. Our home in Amman is less than 60 miles away but may as well be on the moon, it was that different, Arab villages are close to the highway as the West Bank pinches the highway from north and south. Our first stop was atop the Mount of Olives with a commanding view of Jerusalem. At our next stop, a store we ditched (we're not shoppers) we went outside and 2 cars pulled up, one filled with plain-clothes officers, the other military troops in full combat gear (including automatic weapons). They ran to a building but that's all we saw because our driver hustled us away (Terry got a great photo) and we took a few deep breaths. We passed the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus prayed and was betrayed by Judas.

We entered the old city on foot through Jaffa Gate, through the Armenian quarter, to the Jewish quarter (interestingly, the newest quarter since much was destroyed between the 1948 War of Independence when Arab nations controlled Jerusalem and the 1967 Six Day War when Israel returned). We saw the room of the Last Supper, then King David's tomb, then rounded a corner to the Western Wall, the most sacred site in Judaism. As we approached, men and women were separated, as is the custom. Men were given head coverings (yamulkes) I didn't need, thanks to my omni-present anti-cancer hat. The plaza near the Wall was extremely interesting as Orthodox Jews in tradional garb, soldiers, and tourists (including Muslims en route to Al Aqsa Mosque) mingled easily. Looming overhead was the golden Dome of the Rock and Al Aqsa Mosque, flashpoint of political tension. A minaret broadcast the noon azan (call to prayer) as we stood in the plaza at the Western Wall. Utterly fascinating! We walked through the Muslim quarter, similar to Jordan, and heard familiar Arabic phrases and saw familiar Arab foods. Of interest, there is a synagogue in the Muslim quarter and Israeli families reside in apartments above Arab stores. Covered women, Orthodox Jewish or Muslim, nonchalantly all stroll there. Terry stopped for "zatar" spices and in Arabic said we live in Amman; our hands were pumped by friendly handshakes.

Finally, the Christian quarter and Via Dolorosa (Way of Sorrows), the narrow pedestrian street through which Jesus carried the cross upon which He was crucified. The first 10 stations of the cross are marked by plaques in Roman numerals (how fitting). We followed them to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre where the final 4 stations are located, atop Calvary (Golgotha). Station 11, inside, is the crucifixion site depicted by a beautiful gold mosaic. Station 12, a few feet away (the death), is the most elaborate and moving. We saw an Eastern Orthodox Service with monks in ornate robes waving incense. Worshippers were in line on their knees to kiss the spot where He died. Station 13 is the slab of stone where his body was washed. Many knelt to kiss the stone. Finally, station 14 was the tomb with a long line waiting to enter the structure now there. We then descended stairs, each level an earlier time period, until a level dating to the 4th century AD, the first Christian Church in Jerusalem (prior to this time Christians here lived in secret communities for fear of persecution). We briefly toured the new city then arrived at our final stop, Yad Vashem, self-described as "Jewish people's living memorial to the Holocaust." I was struck by how many people were there, its physical enormity, and the horror of Nazis murdering 6 million Jews. According to our guide there had been only 7.5 million Jews total in the world (our guide said Israel now has 8.5 million people, 6.5 Jewish). It was my favorite day, very long but deeply moving.

Ben Gurion University (Ber Sheva, Israel)

We traveled to the city of Ber Sheva so Terry could lecture (graduate students and faculty) at the Ben Gurion University of the Negev. The morning began with an activity my wife and I have enjoyed for years: a long car ride. It felt good to drive (we had a rental car) again after almost 6 months. The area was remote. There weren't many cars but there were many warnings, first to be careful of camels crossing the roads, then sandstorm and flash flood warnings. Interestingly, all signs in Israel were always written in English, Arabic, and Hebrew. I drove several hours, first through the Arava Desert and it was sandy and sparse, dotted with rock formations and devoid of vegetation. Continuing north, we went through the Negev Desert and it had more vegetation but it was primarily scrub on the canyon floors. We stopped at places along the way, including the "famous" Yotfata creamery (delicious fresh ice cream). We saw the spectacular wadi (canyon) at Midreshet Sde Boker, where Israel's founder, David Ben Gurion, is buried. We saw the world's largest crater, Makhtesh Ramon (40km long, 500m deep), created not from an asteroid or volcano but receding water. It was part of the trade route the Nabateans took from Petra to Gaza and it was amazing. As we approached Beersheva we passed mile after mile of Bedouin villages that looked like rural Jordan (tents, camels and goats). I was surprised by the number of villages.

Fittingly, when Terry was later given a tour of Israel's largest birthing center she learned births are 70% Arab and 30% Israeli. Readers of my blog know I do not usually stay for my wife's lectures. I take a few pictures then leave to explore or get a cup of coffee and read. I sat in this time, though, because two of the universities in Israel made special requests that my wife include in her lecture a description of how to get published (in addition to how to conduct and write research) and I wanted to give her feedback. It was very interesting. My wife is a very dynamic speaker and students and faculty always seem highly appreciative. This time was no different but the surprise was that afterward the administration asked to meet privately with my wife then invited her to join the university as a guest professor, something we will discuss. On a cultural note, for me the most interesting things were hearing the mosque's call to prayers - in Israel - and seeing the students in my wife's lecture, Arabs and Israelis, side by side, heads covered either with Arab hijab or Jewish covering. There were also some secular male and female students, everyone sitting together, side by side. At these times I can almost believe there may yet be a chance for peace in the Middle East.

Kibbutz

In the Arava Desert north of Eilat (11% of Israel's landmass, where 50% of the people are under 18-years old) are about 10 kibbutzim (plural of kibbutz); agricultural communes dating from the early days of Israel's independence. We were fortunate to stay at one, an opportunity I used to ask questions and learn. The centerpiece was the communal dining hall where meals were served daily. The majority of people were young, many were volunteers (from all over the world and of different races and religions) who came to work in agricultural jobs for several months in exchange for room and board and a chance to experience Israel. In this region, milk products and dates are the most important income sources for the kibbutzim. In addition to volunteers were members and residents, each group with a unique status. To me, most interesting were members. Founding members of kibbutzim decades ago were politically left leaning (apparent by their operating practices). Current day members continued the legacy, with variations at each kibbutz. We stayed at one where members chose their work rather than having it assigned by the kibbutz. Some members went to college and worked off site but signed their paychecks over to the kibbutz. Others worked full-time in the communal garage, cooking meals, milking cows, or in the communal laundry. The work can vary for a member by season and personal preference. Each member had a debit card to draw as much money as they need for personal expenses. Members do not own personal cars but there was a fleet from which people could reserve cars for personal use. We were told only large purchases were subject to review and approval by the members at their bi-weekly business meeting. Candidates for membership must work for a year before their candidacy is decided (by secret ballot requiring approval by 2/3 of the members). Housing is assigned and all incidentals (shampoo, toilet paper, etc.) provided. Until 1991 it was common at kibbutzim to raise children in communal "children's houses," a practice that ended with the Gulf War when Scud missiles caused worried parents to bring their children into their homes. Another (smaller) category, residents, included long-termers paying rent but who were not members (friends, or elderly parents from the city, for example). They do not vote in kibbutz affairs but live communally like the others. For security reasons underground shelters were scattered around the grounds and every kibbutz was surrounded by barbed wire fencing (but at such a distance it was not visually oppressive). Vehicular traffic in the kibbutz was rare and a peaceful feel prevailed. Streams of people strolled continually, volunteers strummed guitars around campfires, children played without their parents resorting to play dates, and cats and dogs wandered freely. My wife, ever game, spent a morning feeding newborn calves. The whole scene was highly unusual and bucolic, our latest adventure. The Arava Desert was visually stunning reminding me of the Nevada desert. We ended our visit with a tour through nearby Timna National Park and Solomon's mines and Solomon's Pillars rock formation, a striking landscape and unique experience.

Jordan-Israel Border

We woke at 4 a.m. to catch a flight to the port city of Aqaba (where Jordan, Israel, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia meet) to cross into Israel so Terry could teach at 2 universities, a high school, and meet with administrators of the Arava Institute for Environmental Studies (offering university classes to Jordanians, Palestinians, and Israelis). We took a 10-minute taxi ride from the small Aqaba airport to the border. At the first checkpoint, while still in the taxi, an officer checked our passports. At the second checkpoint we were told to disembark ("no more taxis") and enter a pedestrian walkway where our passports were examined for proper (Jordan) visas (if not, a penalty is paid) then to another booth to pay the 10 JD exit fee. Our passports were checked at the final booth before entering "no man's land." The last thing we did was confirm we could return using our original visa. Imagine our panic when the officer said the law changed (the web site we read not yet updated) and we needed new visas from the Jordanian Embassy in Tel Aviv. Luckily, Terry had a great idea: We waited for tourists entering Jordan from Israel to ask about their visas. We heaved a (very big) sigh of relief when a young British couple told us about buying/printing visas from the "Jordanpass.jo" website. We passed through the turnstile and entered a 100-yard asphalt path surrounded by barbed wire (very different from our Nicosia, Cyprus experience). We walked alone (no one in sight) across no man's land and I took a picture of the "Welcome to Israel" banner hanging over the Israeli side next to their flag and "peace" written in Arabic, English, and Hebrew. We were greeted by a friendly young Israeli woman and a young man in civilian clothing carrying an Uzi (who cautioned me against taking more pictures). The building we entered was where the Jordan-Israel Peace Treaty was signed in 1994. Pictures of President Clinton (there to observe), King Hussein and Prime Minister Rabin lined the walls. Our passports were checked and we were handed a slip of paper explaining we would pass through 3 checkpoints: security, passport control, and customs. After our bag was X-rayed it was searched and then we went into an open-air courtyard with bars (essentially a cage) to passport control. It looked like a baseball stadium ticket booth, but tourists lined up outside, officers seated behind glass. Everyone was questioned individually. There was a young man ahead of us who was questioned about his religion, nationality, every stamp in his passport, and his college degrees. No question was left unasked but they eventually let him enter, unlike another youth who was detained for deportation. While waiting to be questioned a commotion occurred and suddenly soldiers (many) carrying Uzis ran past us and a young woman said, "everyone come with me." As quickly as the commotion started it ended and questioning resumed as though nothing occurred (it was a little unnerving). They eventually returned our (stamped) passports and we left by a heavily guarded turnstile into the taxi area (where we took a 10-minute ride to Eilat). (Note: Exit fee from Israel is 100 shekels, 25 USD, and can be paid by credit card.)

Despite being up since 4 a.m., Terry had meetings then lectured at the regional high school. The school administrators had requested a talk about Jordan students and the Israeli students were told this was very important. The administration, including the librarian and current and former principals, attended. My wife had purchased and brought Arab cookies for the students, who were mesmerized to learn Jordanian students rise early for prayers and female students often cover their heads ("hijab") and how Jordanian students are strong academically because there is no oil money and a scarcity of water so earning an education is significant for their futures. They commiserated with their Jordanian counterparts over 12th grade examinations, called "tojihi" in Jordan and "bagrut" in Israel; teens on each side of a border, minutes away but worlds apart. After she spoke my wife got her usual response (lots of hugs) and the principal presented her with a "thank you" gift of a school book and jeweled key chain (interestingly, the same "good luck" symbol I've seen in many Arab countries was on the key chain). A long day that ended with staying somewhere new (a "kibbutz") that I will describe in another post.