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.

Budapest (Hungary)

I wanted to show Terry Budapest after Prague so we boarded a flight for Hungary. Our hotel in Budapest was significant historically. During World War II, while Nazis committed atrocities against innocent Jews, Raoul Wallenberg, a Swedish diplomat posted in Budapest, quietly went about printing diplomatic identity cards ("shutzpasses") he used to save thousands of lives. Our hotel used to be the factory that printed those life-saving passes. We put our bags in our room and left to explore the Hungarian version of a Christmas market, differentiated from Prague's by local crafts and foods. We had hot fruit punch and huge potato pancakes (used as plates to hold beef or stuffed cabbage). I thought it was too cold for my wife to enjoy a walking tour so I hired a private guide and car and we spent the next day exploring what felt like every street and building in Budapest. We saw the (huge) Parliament, crossed the Danube, saw Margaret Island, drove to the castle on the "Buda" side of Budapest, saw Fisherman's Bastion and Matthias Church, and stopped at Gellert Hill for the panorama. Then we crossed the Elisabeth Bridge and went to Heroes' Square on the famous Andrassy Avenue (akin to Paris' Champs Elysees). Our guide's grandfather was a Communist so we got a firsthand taste of life under Communism and the ramifications when it ended. We toured Franz Liszt sites, Rubik's (yes, Hungarian!) cube sites, and the second largest synagogue in Europe. As we continued, my wife saw something and asked to disembark. It was the wall of the Jewish ghetto from which 600,000 people perished at the hands of the Nazis. The inscription asked for all who read the words to pray for the dead, which we did. Hungary, an ally of Nazi Germany, protected its Jewish population until Germany invaded in 1944 after which deportations to concentration camps began. Interestingly, last year a controversial Holocaust memorial was erected. We drove past and noticed a demonstration; apparently Hungary still struggles with its role in World War II 70 years afterward. Our guide took us to the outskirts of the city where we saw Communist era housing juxtaposed with Roman ruins and aqueducts. The original Hungarian tribes, from over the Urals, developed a society ruled variously by Rome, Arabs, the Ottoman Empire, Nazis, then Communists. The next day we strolled along the Danube, crossing bridges, up and down hills and boulevards. When our trip ended and we boarded a plane back to Amman (by way of Paris) we had a lot to talk about; especially you readers (and emailers) from all over the world, to whom I wish a Happy New Year.

Christmas in Prague (Czech Republic)

Terry was going to lecture in Prague, then Budapest, but universities close for Christmas. We decided to go anyway because I was in Prague in 1991 (after the Velvet Revolution sent the Soviets packing) and have been eager to show it to Terry ever since. The flight was through Paris and the airport filled with the smell from huge baskets of freshly baked croissants (we of course sampled them - delicious). At passport control Terry voiced regret over recent events and said "Vive La France!" to the inspector who replied (in halting English) "God Bless America!" It was a small but touching exchange. Our hotel dated from the 1200s, just off Old Town square, and epitomized the city's grandeur as our room was entered via an anteroom, had soaring ceilings, huge windows, and a large sitting (living) room. There are few sights in Europe to match the architecture of Prague. Spared from destruction in World War II it is a medieval treasure (and protected UNESCO site). We began with a city tour. We explored new and old Prague by minibus, walking, and a river cruise. We toured Prague Castle high on a hill overlooking the Vltava River, then cruised down the river before a walking tour of the old Jewish Quarter and Old Town. Our guide was great (smart, funny).

The evening was a highlight because I had emailed the local Internations chapter and was invited on an evening walk through Prague. There were about 15 of us from the US, Australia, Russia, Ghana, UK, Slovakia, Germany, Macedonia, and the Czech Republic. For over 4 hours we walked 10 kilometers over hill and dale, both sides of the river, through parks, around and in the castle, and over bridges. There was plenty of time to get acquainted. A more welcoming group you couldn't possibly find so the evening will always be a favorite memory. The walk's goal was to visit 5 Christmas markets (they are wonderful), the largest of which was by our hotel. Christmas markets are clusters of tiny wooden huts, each selling a different local product. The traditional Christmas cookie, a sugared dough baked like a rotisserie over a fire, causes the air to smell like warm cinnamon. Christmas day, after walking across the incredible Charles Bridge with thousands of others, we had a traditional Czech Christmas meal of carp and fish soup. On a cultural note, Czechs share their carp with the poor just as Jordanians share their lamb with the poor at Eid. Our similarities transcend religion or country. But I digress. In the center of the markets were tall Christmas trees, decorated dramatically, and the beautiful operatic music that filled every restaurant and store also filled the Christmas markets. We sampled cider, mulled wine, a hot pear drink, grog, a cherry drink, the famous Pilsner beer, and a chocolate drink so intense it was like a liquid candy bar. The weather was brisk but warm for the season so we were mostly comfortable. The people were friendly and stylish. Another cultural note is the prevalence of marionettes. When dominated by the Austro-Hungarian Empire in the late 1800s, the Czech language, though suppressed, survived because itinerant puppeteers went village to village performing in Czech; thus there is much affection here for puppets. Although away from family during Christmas, we were in a beautiful city, where we walked for hours, grateful for our many blessings.

Goodbye Parties

The last few weeks were a whirlwind. Terry taught at the university, edited research for professors, dissertations for students, guest lectured throughout Jordan, and fulfilled numerous volunteer obligations while completing university and community projects. Not too shabby for someone who doesn't need to work. It was no surprise that no fewer than eight good-bye parties honoring my wife were given. There was a real outpouring of affection and appreciation. In one 3-day stretch there were breakfasts, lunches, and dinners, one after another. One interesting cultural note we learned was if a guest reaches for water after eating it signals "not enough to eat." This explains why hosts kept bringing me food when I asked for a glass of water. I also learned a slight wrist turn with a cup stops coffee refills. (I'm putting these in the "better late than never" file.) There was a faculty reception honoring Terry and I was invited and thanked for my State Dept. article about Jordan. It was a beautiful reception with heartfelt speeches, tears shed by some faculty (not Terry, but she was emotional) and a presentation to my wife of a "thank you" plaque in an elaborate velvet-padded box. After eating the most amazing foods we had to leave because another reception for Terry was being held. And we aren't going home until next month.

There were several student celebrations, one because of me, because a student remembered an offhand comment I made about wanting to try a nargilah (also called hubbly-bubbly, sheesha, or hookah). University students got together and took me out (the first time my wife was the tag-along!). We went to a restaurant with tables in the center and couches in the corners, where we sat as a group. The students insisted I order coffee and dessert, the "right" way to smoke a nargila, so I ordered coffee and apple pie (because nothing is as American as apple pie with...a nargila). The smoke comes in "flavors" and they ordered a combination of watermelon and mint. There was a young man whose sole job was to place hot coals over the flavors and start the ball rolling (and keep it rolling, every 10 minutes, for an hour). He removed the mouthpiece from a sealed bag (to show it hadn't been used) and then came the moment of truth. Everyone, including my wife, turned to watch me. I must have passed the test because I didn't cough and the students all laughed. We spent an hour sitting in a fog ("tabob") of smoke, the students asking about family life in the United States, and explaining details of family life in Jordan (including family dynamics with two wives - really interesting). It was great fun.

One of the receptions included adult children (of colleagues), possibly the most astute political observers I've met here. On a cultural note, it is always interesting to see how women who are covered head to toe manage to eat. All of the meals were very elaborate and delicious. To my unpracticed eye it seems like meals begin with appetizers of hummus, salads, and bread. Then large platters of rice appear and on top of the rice are either mounds of lamb or chicken. Most dishes are topped with roasted nuts and served with a yoghurt-based gravy.

At one party I (unthinkingly) ate with my left hand and was gently chided by someone whose spouse teaches Sharia (Islamic religious law) in Saudi Arabia. I have gotten pretty good at eating with my right hand. Another party for Terry was held at a five-star restaurant built to resemble a giant Bedouin tent in an oasis with fountains, low tables, a Bedouin "kitchen" for photos, and mounds of delicious food. The students at that party, who enjoyed a great mutual bond with Terry, gifted her with an intricately hand-embroidered floor-length Jordanian dress with headdress. The students really wanted Terry to take her gift for a test run, and she agreed, so they helped her slip the dress on over her clothing and fasten the headdress. Then, similar to weddings in Mexico, the bride (that would be Terry) was taken from place to place to be photographed. We now have a collection of photos of Terry, standing and sitting, all over the restaurant. Another class hosted a potluck because they wanted Terry to try their homemade specialties. They could have fed 100 people. The food was spectacular, homemade, and they had a custom cake that said "We will miss you, Dr. Terry" with a picture of her face on it! The only thing that could top that was when they lit "candles" that turned out to be giant sparklers. The (female) students gave Terry many hugs and kisses, took many pictures, and sang her praises to the Dean (invited as a sign of respect). The bond she formed with these students was obvious. They gave her an ornate memory book inscribed by each of them and perched on an olive wood stand with a pen and pencil holder engraved with her name on one side and embroidery on the other. The big surprise was that they presented me with a plaque, a relief map of Jordan inscribed to "Mr. David." I was very touched. We have a few more dinner invitations for our last weeks but the parties are over. I am touched by how my wife was appreciated and by the kind, intelligent, generous people I met here.

Cairo (Egypt)

With some reservations but with Terry's encouragement I flew to Cairo. Some Middle Eastern countries are off limits to Terry as a Fulbright Scholar (for security reasons) but not me. Otherwise I wouldn't have considered going without my wife. Security in Egypt is on the minds of many here. Many Egyptians work in Jordan so my early morning flight was filled with young men snapping pictures of each other in the waiting area. They said the overland bus route through Sinai is too dangerous, so many workers are flying for the first time. While waiting I met a man similar in appearance to me, holding a Canadian passport and looking Western in every respect. Appearances here can be deceiving. Come to find out, he is Iraqi, a mushroom farmer with a doctoral degree. But I digress.

I was met at the Cairo airport by a tour guide offering "stopover" tours. We went to the Egyptian Museum and saw all the mummies and other antiquities you could ever hope to see, over 250,000 pieces. Soon to be constructed in Giza by the pyramids is a new museum, largely funded I understand by USAID, which will double the size of the exhibits. Cairo is an enormous city, the largest in Africa, with 22 million residents. It dwarfs even Istanbul. The traffic is incredible. Lanes are only a vague suggestion. I saw an Egyptian woman covered from head to toe pushing some kind of cart in a traffic lane on a major street as though she belonged there with cars weaving and honking to get around her. We drove to a Christian area where we toured two churches, one full of religious relics (essentially body parts of long dead saints and martyrs covered in ornate cloth and religious jewelry) and the beautiful Coptic St. George's Church. Then we went to Giza and the pyramids. The pyramids are on the periphery of Cairo (Giza) so the view is of the huge city in one direction and Sahara desert in the other. As we approached the pyramids a small storm brewed up, first with sand then rain, adding even a bit more drama with people, horses, and camels scattering. Then we were off to visit the Sphinx, my favorite. Legend has it that Napoleon's artillery took target practice on the Sphinx and blew off its nose in 1798. Then we had lunch at a nearby restaurant with many Egyptian foods served on small plates to be eaten with flat bread followed by mixed grill of lamb and chicken with rice. Over lunch we discussed how recent terrorist activity in the Sinai Peninsula has affected tourism in Cairo. For example, last year my guide was booked every day in December but this year I am his only booking for the month. After touring Old Cairo with its narrow streets and scenes straight out of biblical times, we headed to the airport, satisfied from a wonderful day. At the airport I had some extra time until my flight so I took in an amazing array of people and national costumes, from all over the Middle East and Africa. It was a people watching experience beyond compare. I arrived home tired but very happy Terry had encouraged me to go on this adventure.

U.S. Department of State

I would like to share some good news with you. The United States Department of State Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs selected my blog, Fulbright Husband in Jordan, to publicize the Fulbright Scholar program internationally. The post I wrote for them, which they titled "The Fulbright Family" on its website, can be accessed from http://www.cies.org/article/fulbright-family. It's been great fun writing the blog. I've received responses from readers all over the world and it will be a good way for Terry and I to relive the highlights for years to come. Thanks, everyone.

Paphos (Cyprus)

Terry's lecture at the University of Nicosia was very well received by the students and faculty. Prior to her lecture we toured one of the 24 picturesque historic neighborhoods being renovated. We also toured what local's call "Beverly Hills." At the university the first of "it's a small world" coincidences occurred. First, my wife's faculty contact in Cyprus is the good friend of Terry's colleague in Jordan. Next, at breakfast the next day we met a couple from Lebanon and the wife attended the same law school as Terry - and they have mutual acquaintances. The last coincidence involves the Cyprus Fulbright Center, located in the UN buffer zone, with checkpoints, guard towers, barbed wire, and the friendly (from Glasgow) UN soldiers with their light blue berets who cautioned us against taking photos. The coincidence was that recently Secretary Kerry was across the street from our home in Jordan, visiting the US Embassy, in Istanbul when Terry taught there, then on his way to the office we were visiting in Cyprus. We quickly left before streets were sealed (for security) and us with it. We needed to board the bus to Paphos, a city on the other side of the island.

The two hour bus ride was thoroughly enjoyable. The scenery of Cyprus, a country about as large as the big island of Hawaii, and one tenth the size of Jordan, has mountains and lakes, arid areas juxtaposed with farmland. Paphos, on the Mediterranean coast, is chock full of Roman ruins. We saw a castle, early churches, an open market and an amphitheater. The intricate Roman mosaics are similar to those in Madaba, Jordan. The ruins are adjacent to tourist areas and easily accessible along the pedestrian promenade hugging the coastline. The day was warm and sunny so we strolled the promenade, deep blue crystal-clear Mediterranean on one side, outdoor cafes (and famed fish restaurants) and ruins on the other. Spectacular. We stayed in a luxury hotel on the water but we had the place to ourselves (who could have imagined such weather in December?). We left the beaten path to explore other ruins, including an ancient church then descended into catacombs housing the remains of an early Saint. At the entry were hundreds of pieces of cloth tied to tree branches. A passing woman explained the local custom of those who offer prayers to tie pieces of fabric on the branches to represent their prayers. On a cultural note, in all of our travels this was the first place I was mistaken - several times! - for a local. A British local (must be the hat). The British influences of this former colony are pronounced. The day ended with a two-hour taxi ride to Larnaca, completing our full circle tour of Cyprus. Each of the areas we toured had completely different influences, from Greek to Turkish to British, reflecting the interesting history of this beautiful island country and its resilient and friendly people.

University of Nicosia (Cyprus)

Yesterday a holiday was declared in Jordan to ensure compliance with the first computerized national census. Classes were cancelled and museums were closed. We are using these few days for Terry to lecture at the University of Nicosia in the island country of Cyprus (south of Turkey, west of Syria). Our flight was less than an hour to the closest point in Europe to the Middle East: Larnaca, Cyprus. Here euros are currency and, since Cyprus had been a British colony, driving is on the left. Last year's experience in England was enough to persuade me my driving-on-the-left days are over. I hired a driver for the ride to Nicosia, the capital. The ride across the island reminded me of the terrain near our California home, a patchwork of green farms and brown mountains. The bed and breakfast (B&B) is located in Old Town (a protected World Heritage UNESCO site) and I had a moment of concern (and a twinge of panic) after our driver left us at the hotel - except it was a cafe. Confusion written on my face, a waiter beckoned us in to an unmarked door (in the cafe) leading to the B&B. Utterly unique. Max, a charming young Brit, is as unique as his top-ranked B&B ("The Sandstone") he owns and runs with his Cypriot wife. We immediately presented Max with challenges: First, our phone doesn't work outside Jordan and in my brilliance I left my coat on the plane. He called Royal Jordanian and arranged for it to be sent to Nicosia. Next, Terry teaches tomorrow at the University of Nicosia and needed to contact her hosts. Max again obliged. Finally, I wanted to eat at Trip Advisor's top restaurant and Max came through again, providing directions and suggestions.

Then we were off. We ordered "shared grill" and just about any animal with 2-4 legs made an appearance on the platter brought to us with grilled vegetables (eggplant, peppers, and more), and Greek-style grilled potatoes. I swear the platter was more like a trough. Our waiter took a shine to us and brought a complimentary dessert (a translucent white jelly-like ball of sweet milk covered by a rose water-cherry sauce). Exotic and delicious, it was one of our favorite restaurant meals and we needed to walk it off. Our leisurely walk on a perfect sunny day through the pedestrian-only streets of Old Town ended with us crossing a border! Nicosia is the only remaining divided city in Europe. The dominant population here is Greek with a significant Turkish minority. Talk about a fault line of cultures. In 1974 Turkey invaded to protect the local ethnic Turks after a coup led by Greek hardliners displaced Cypriot President Archbishop Makarios. Eventually the United Nations brokered a ceasefire. Now the demarcation (called the "Green Line") runs through the center of the city so we started our walk in Greek Nicosia and ended in Turkish Nicosia. Between the two is no man's land (called "derelict zone") filled with bullet-pocked abandoned buildings. This buffer between the two sectors is marked by barbed wire, sandbags, and (incongruously) a line of potted plants down the middle of the street to guide pedestrian traffic (into Turkish Cyprus on the right, return to Greek Cyprus on the left). Terry wanted photos of the pedestrian border, with passport controls for pedestrians, but changed her mind after I pointed to signs threatening would-be photographers with a night in jail. Access between sides had been severely limited but since tension eased locals (and tourists like us) are now able to walk across the border. We had been warned to ask Turkish Cypriot passport officials not to stamp our passports or we wouldn't be allowed to return to the Greek side. The passport officials readily agreed. It was strange to walk past the once grand architecture of crumbling buildings in the buffer zone, riddled with bullets, abandoned, and frozen in time. We walked through the Turkish side's narrow winding alleys to the Buyuk Han and the Selimiye mosque, then returned to the border and crossed back into Greek Cyprus. A long but interesting day drew to a close.

Thanksgiving

There's nothing like a holiday to turn thoughts to home. This is particularly true for me this year. We realize how privileged we are to be on such an assignment and we are grateful for so many things; for our health and that of our families', for the prosperity that allows us to come here, for the political stability in America that allows citizens to disagree in safety, for each other. As you know the politics of this region are complicated. My wife, as one of the only Americans some of these people will ever meet, gets asked a lot of questions about our country. Because Terry is approachable, people feel comfortable telling her their views of the USA and it can be overwhelming. Fortunately, my wife's week ended on a nice note. On Wednesday we went to the Binational Jordanian-American Commission (Fulbright) for a Thanksgiving celebration. There were about 50 people and it was great to catch up with friends. On Thursday we were invited to the home of US diplomats for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. We have been far from home before, and we've worked through holidays before, but in this day and time in history, and after this week in particular, it was a great comfort to be with Americans. The day ended with a "skype" visit from my family in Florida then from our daughter and her family (including her wonderful in-laws) in California. I want to tell you, family and friends, how thankful we are for you. The hundreds of supportive emails you've sent while we are so far from home, the news you share, the prayers you send, keep us going. Happy Thanksgiving.

Bosphorus Strait

The Bosphorus Strait is the narrow water passage dividing Europe from Asia, similar to how the Panama Canal connects the Atlantic to the Pacific, but the Bosphorous is not man-made. We had a great cruise that began after the hotel breakfast (European and Turkish foods; delicious breads and grilled vegetables, homemade jams, local cheeses, several types of olives and fish and meats). Before we boarded the boat for the cruise we toured the Rustempasha mosque, built in 1560, and covered in famous Iznik tiles. On a cultural note, we learned that tulips, indigenous to Turkey, are the symbol of Islam here because in Arabic the word for God, Allah, forms the pattern of a tulip. And, speaking of Allah, we were gifted with an English language Koran. We then made our way past the freely roaming tagged dogs (tags prove spaying and shots) and entered the famed Spice Bazaar. The stalls displayed colorful pyramids of freshly ground spices, very exotic and fragrant. I really liked walking around, sampling candy and drinking pomegranate tea. When we exited the bazaar my wife noticed a man and his wives who appeared to be wearing the headdress of Jordan. She greeted them in Arabic and they lit up and all started talking at once, a regular family reunion, except they were Syrian refugees, not from Jordan. After heartfelt good-byes we were driven to the boat. This was our first organized tour group but it was small and intimate and guided by a young Turkish woman who confided to my wife she felt unsure of her English (Terry quickly reassured her). The Bosphorous connects the Sea of Marmara to the Black Sea so you can imagine its strategic significance. Roughly one mile wide, it is the only warm water access to the high seas for several Black Sea nations, notably Russia. Both sides have broad hills that slope down to the water. The hilly topography provided good views of the Dolmabahce Palace, the Beylerbeyi Palace, and the Ciragan Palce, which reminded us of Russia's St. Petersburg. We drove through Ortakoy, then saw it from the cruise, an area home to Turks, Jews, Greeks and Armenians. There were religious structures of every stripe. We cruised passed the Rumeli Fortress, built in 1452 by Sultan Mehmet II, the largest and most impenetrable of the Middle Ages fortresses, and it looked it, dominating the Strait. The huge fortress was a real contrast to the modern architecture around it (and very dramatic). Tomorrow we return "home" to Jordan where Terry has very busy weeks ahead. In addition to teaching at the University of Jordan, she will lecture throughout Jordan's universities and high schools in honor of International Education Week.

Sultanahmet (Turkey)

Today was a day to tour Sultanahmet, the ancient heart of Istanbul and the Ottoman Empire. We saw the pillar erected by the Romans to mark the center of the city from which mileposts were measured (mille passuum). The city was named Constantinople (for Roman Emperor Constantine the Great) until 1453 when it was conquered by Muslim forces. Our guide's name was Ghenghis. He proudly informed us his son's name is Khan. He began by showing us a large map of Turkey which reminded us of how many ancient sites are here, from Troy to Thrace to Ephesus to Cappadocia. Only three per cent of Turkey is in Europe which ends at the Bosphorus Strait in the middle of Istanbul. The first stop on today's walking tour was the sprawling Topaki Palace complex, home of the Sultans. Just inside the palace walls was a large fourth century church. After the conquest of 1453 AD most churches in this area were converted to mosques. This one, however, was converted into an arsenal instead because in Islamic tradition all are equal before God and mosques are open to all. This would have posed an unacceptable security risk to the Sultan. His security was a recurring theme today for good reason. Palace intrigue and violent death were commonplace. Messengers from foreign lands brought into the Sultan's presence were required to lower their eyes and were restrained on each side by palace guards. If the Sultan didn't like the message the messenger was beheaded and his head returned to sender, preserved in a jar of honey. To this day Turks have a saying that a recipient of bad news "received the honey jar." The Sultan had over 300 concubines and 100 children. Fratricide was common as sons competed to become the next Sultan. Next stop was the Hagia Sophia, a third century church rebuilt twice into an enormous domed cathedral, turned mosque, turned museum. Its current iteration dates from the 1400s AD. Since Islam prohibits depiction of the human form as a guard against idol worship, we are fortunate that the mosaics depicting Jesus, Mary, and the Saints were merely plastered over rather than destroyed, thus preserving them. Then we were on to the underground cistern made (more) famous by a scene in Dan Brown's book "Inferno." Lost for centuries and rediscovered in the early 1960s by a curious British tourist poking around who stumbled upon it, this has become a major tourist attraction, made more so by the book. A movie version of the book was filmed here and is due out next year.

Then we went across the street to the Blue Mosque, the seventeenth largest mosque in the world. It's exterior is strikingly beautiful and dominates its surroundings. Upon going inside Terry received a light blue head covering as a loaner, we all took off our shoes of course, then marveled at the interior. We learned the patterned carpet is a guide to worshippers as they know where to place first their feet, then knees, hands, and forehead all according to the pattern. After the Blue Mosque we had lunch at a local restaurant serving traditional Turkish fare of grilled vegetables and meats/fish. This part of Istanbul has a very cosmopolitan feel. It is a cafe culture with diners spilling out of restaurants to streetside tables, similar to Paris. The foods displayed everywhere were colorful and showed a big city sophistication, not surprising for a city of over 14 million. Finally we were off to the Grand Bazaar which boasts being the world's oldest and largest market dating from 1453 AD with over 4,000 stalls. As expected in such a place the merchants (all men) were quite energetic in asking us to come into their stalls. Terry needed some leather gloves and our guide told us to haggle, a skill seldom used by Americans, but we were game. The merchant's opening price was 120 Turkish lira (around $40). After some back and forth Terry headed for the exit. That did the trick and the purchase price was 50 Turkish lira (around $15), not bad for black leather gloves. By this time we had parted company with Ghenghis so we walked back to our hotel on a perfect sunny fall day having gotten our excercise by walking for six hours in one of the most amazing cities I have ever seen. We stopped in a pastry shop we couldn't resist and bought a sweet resembling baklava on steroids filled with pistachios and honey. We made it back in time for afternoon tea which made my wife very happy.

University of Istanbul (Turkey)

Well faithful readers, it's been eleven days since my last post. Our time was filled with activities that now pass as routine. Terry's Fulbright duties include teaching graduate students at the university. But going above and beyond she uses her "off" time to lecture at universities and high schools all over Jordan on behalf of the US Embassy. She also gave a writing workshop for university students, attended committee meetings, and provided career counseling to students from all over the university who heard her background and sought her out. She edited faculty research and doctoral students' dissertations (that they write such complex things in English is very impressive), and helped a military colonel with a paper. And in the little time left we were guests (lunches and dinners) of her generous colleagues.

Yesterday we flew to Istanbul, Turkey, because (as I wrote in a previous post) Fulbright encourages scholars to lecture throughout the region. After we landed in Turkey I had the same sensation as when we lived in Alaska and visited Hawaii in the winter: It was nice to see greenery again. We are staying in Istanbul's historic district and had a "hotel orientation" by an enthusiastic young man named Ufuk (no kidding). I've grown so used to using Arabic words I kept saying "shukran" and "afwan" ("thank you" and "you're welcome" in Arabic), despite the fact that Arabic isn't spoken in Turkey! I'm guessing it will be some time before I stop including Arabic words in my speech. Young Ufuk told us he lives across the Bosphorus Strait, which means he goes from Asia to Europe, and back again, for work every day. After an elaborate tea at the hotel, and trust me, Turkey lives up to its reputation as a foodie paradise, we walked the cobbled, narrow (and clean) streets of the old town (a UNESCO world heritage site). Each block is more colorful than the last. The skyline is dominated by the enormous Blue Mosque. The bazaar we entered had high end Turkish products such as leather goods, hand woven rugs, ceramics, antique jewelry, and Turkish delight, the famous jellied candy.

This morning a doctoral student from the Florence Nightingale School of Nursing at the University of Istanbul brought us to the university for Terry's lecture. The reason a Turkish school is named after a British subject is because Florence Nightingale, known as the founder of modern nursing, came to prominence in 1854 during the Crimean War and British war casualties were brought to Istanbul, so it was here she did her work. We were greeted by members of the school's international committee and given a tour. It is the largest nursing school in Turkey with over 2,000 students. At one point someone mentioned my wife would be speaking to students who knew no English. While I thought the pucker factor on that was pretty high Terry took it in stride (she told me later that happened before in Cambodia). It turns out they understood her just fine. It seems obligatory for schools and students to modestly downplay their English skills when there is really no need. Before the lecture we were treated to Turkish coffee, for those who don't know a very thick coffee one drinks down to the grounds. Then we were treated to a local custom, the reading of fortunes in the coffee grounds. Among the many good things about to happen to us, it turns out we are going to enjoy a family celebration so happy we will all "hold hands and dance." We were pleased to receive positive fortunes (Whew!!). The lecture went well and Terry was very well received as always. Afterward the students and faculty gathered around for photos and Terry was presented with a certificate of appreciation and a handcrafted wooden box filled with, you guessed it, Turkish delight.