Ajloun Castle

Yesterday, a couple of friends and I put on our "tourist" faces and went on a drive out to an old castle in a town called Ajloun. The castle was originally built in 1184 AD and was passed from one king to another as the years went on. These are a few random pictures of our little outing. It was so nice to get out of the city.

We just love some of the random things we see, such as the Tele-Tuby we passed. I think he was advertising for a restaurant along the road. Random. :

One of the towers of the castle:

Cool-lookin' moss growing on the castle floor:
One of my favorite flowers, wild poppies:
Cool-lookin' wild flower:

My friend, Sara, and I:

Morocco

In February I had the opportunity to travel to Morocco and Tunisia for my work. I was only in each country for one very hurried week each. Both places have been on my list of "places I want to visit in my lifetime". I was a little disappointed that I did not get to see more of the country (especially Morocco since that trip was especially busy) but that just means that I'll have to keep it on my list and save my pennies to go back. One of the fun parts of my job is being able to go to new places. I love to travel and I love new adventures and that is one way my job has been perfect for me.

I don't have any crazy stories from Morocco like I do for the other places I've gone. Like I said it was a fast trip (5 cities, 8 trains in 6 days. ouch) so there wasn't much going on......actually I take that back. I DID have minor trouble on the train.... I got mixed up, twice, about which train station to get off at... being in a country I've never been to, traveling alone, and all. It wasn't that big of a deal, I just had to wait a few hours for the next train goin' my way. The funny part of the story is that I got off at the same (wrong) little train station both times- once coming and once returning. The same little old man at the station helped me. I'm sure he rolled his eyes at the funny foreign woman. I sat in a dingy little coffee shop sipping cup after cup of cafe au lait for a few hours trying to ignore the stares, as I was 'forced' to sit in a coffee shop which only men tend to patron. Well, anyway, being stuck at the wrong train station those two times gave me time to write postcards and journal not to mention the cups of cafe au lait, which were surprisingly very good, so I was a happy camper.

These three pictures are all random things of interest from Meknes:

A mosque on a hill-
Door-way of an old mosque-
Cookie shop in an open market-

The next three posts are all taken in Kassala, Sudan. Kassala is somewhere in between a town and a village and is known for growing bananas and mangoes! I had a wonderful week there working the the deaf school and the deaf club!

The typical coffee served with popcorn. The smoke you
see in the picture is smoke from the coals that the coffee pot is sitting on.
This coffee is made with ginger and is really good! And you know me....
I never pass up an opportunity to drink good coffee.
I like this picture, even though it's a little hazy out there. This little
mosque is a little crooked, huh?
One view of Kassala. It happened to be green in this particular area... it is
the time of year that the rain starts so it's a little more lush than usual.
OK, on the first day there I went to a program at the deaf school in
Kassala. At the end I was asked to give a speech....so here I am.
I forgot what I said but it was good . Also, I was since made fun of
for claiming to have given a "speech" when I did not use my voice at all, just signing.
I know, I know.. very funny.

This family that we went to visit live in a grass hut. One woman has six deaf
children and we enjoyed spending a little time with them.

We stopped to get some water to drink at this wide-spot-in-the-
road place. The man here was nice enough to get us a drink
and something to eat. What's he holding? Raw meat that used
to be a goat (it's hanging up-side-down). I especially appreciate
him holding on to the meat for us... and I'd like to remind you that at this
point in the day it's about 120 degrees. Nice.
Some of the guys I got to know in Kassala. This was at my going away party!

These pictures are all taken in Kassala.....

Some little girls playing at the deaf school-

I was aiming to get a good "action shot"and I think this is a pretty good shot
even though I did cut their top halves off. What I love about this picture is
what you can tell about the culture from it. Notice their feet: one guy is playing
in his flip-flops, one guy is playing in one tennis shoe only (someone else has the other shoe),
and the third guy is playing in no shoes. Pretty skilled, huh?!
These kids stopped to watch our soccer game. I say "our" but I didn't play (because I'm a woman and it wouldn't have been appropriate....). The game was played by the men who are part of the deaf union. It was a good game....

War

The awkward thing about war is that in one part of the world people are waging gun-wars in the middle of the market and in another part of the world people are at work, and picking up their kids from school, and going to the grocery and life for them is normal.

While I’m watching the sky darken with the black smoke of near-by bombs and thinking about who is being killed just miles away, my friends back in Jordan and in the States are living life and not skipping a beat.

Not that that’s a bad thing that everyone else is going on with life. I’m glad that war does not touch most of the people I know. At the same time, it’s an odd feeling. It’s like when a loved one passes away and you’re the one grieving while everyone else seems unaffected. You wonder how they could act like everything’s OK when, to you, it is the very opposite of OK. Maybe, for a time, friends grieve with you but then eventually you are left to mourn alone and watch everyone around you, envious of how un-tormented they seem.

I am in Khartoum, Sudan now. Those of you who tune in to the “world news” know that we’ve had a bit of trouble this past weekend. Surely you all know that Sudan has long been a war-torn country. This weekend the war came to the capitol, Khartoum. The rebels, who have been fighting against the government, brought their guns and their bombs and their anger to our doorsteps.

On Saturday I was with the girl I’m staying with paying the electricity bill, stocking up on more coffee, etc. The shopkeeper whose store we were in suddenly said-

‘Madam! You have to leave. You have to go home now!!’

A look of sheer panic had come over his face and he hurried us out the door shouting out behind us- ‘go home quickly!’

The government had imposed a citywide curfew and we all rushed home. My roommate and I gathered together important papers and a few clothes, and headed to our team-leader’s home so that we would all be together. That night we listened to the low thud of the bombs going off and watched the sky blacken with dark smoke of burning cars and rubble just miles away. The next morning we woke to reports of many casualties on all sides- rebels, government army, and civilians. Today-more street battles and riots. One moment is calm and the next huge helicopters are flying low and I can’t help wondering about all the mothers who have lost sons this weekend.

War. It is very ugly and if you think it’s black and white… think again. It rarely, if ever, is.

When I was 6 a war broke out in the country that my family and I were living in and has lasted until today. I have many, many good memories from my life in that country and from my childhood. I would never want my life to be different than it has been. It’s all been a gift- the good and the bad. Suffering and hardship is a gift, if you choose to see it that way. At the same time, that war is something that I will always, always carry with me. Some days it is awkward to know how to live with that. There are days when I recall coming face to face with the wrong end of a disgruntled soldier’s machine gun or running from angry riots or remember the pungent stench of tear gas. On those days I look around at everyone going on like life is normal. Within me is war and outside...everything is calm.

I realize this is not the MOST uplifting post. But this is where I am today. Sudan, as I said before, has been my dream come true. One of my favorite things to say is this: dreams aren’t perfect; they come true, not free. Being in Sudan these past three weeks and living in Northern Africa and the Middle East both during my childhood and these past two years has been my dream come true and whatever it requires of me I willingly give.

Signing off for now.

Love, from here……