As you probably know, I was fortunate enough to spend this last weekend in Madrid spending my time chilling out, walking nonstop, seeing the sites, drinking in fresh air clear of the exhaust that dominates Fez's atmosphere, digging on a bit of culture, and having a beer for the first time in over a month, all of this going down Spain's gorgeous capital. I wish I could post some pictures from my brief time in Madrid, but I neglected to bring my camera for the weekend since I wasn't sure whether or not Ryan Air would let me bring an extra bag, and I didn't have room in my main carry-on to accommodate my bulky camera. I guess I'll just have to use my gift of gab to illustrate a glimpse of Madrid for all of you.
The city was wonderful, full of open plazas and open air cafes, regal buildings, tree lined streets, botanical gardens, the Spanish equivalent of Central Park, perfect fall temperatures all day and even a little cold at night (I'm glad I brought my fleece), air so fresh you could taste the crispness of it on each breath (probably the most welcome difference from Fez where I actually find myself holding my breath or at least struggling to not breath through my noise in hopes of avoiding some of the epic stench of the Medina e.g. meat ranging from raw to rotten, leather tanneries, donkey shit, car exhaust, etc.), and finally, after all of my dull time in Fez, I actually had stuff to do, museums to see, new foods to try, actual activities. Madrid was the perfect respite from the chaos of Fez, a break back to culture and fall weather, a break back to a clean city and crosswalk signals, a break from the Third World, back in a developed country again if only for a short while. When my fellow Spain Travelers and I exited to Metro up to the street in Madrid, we all let out a loud collective sigh of relief
The highlight of the trip was probably my visit to the Reina Sophia Museum of Contemporary Art. I was even able to get into the museum free of charge; they offer free admission for several hours each day. Reina Sophia has a huge collection of Picasso's, several paintings by Salvador Dali, a couple of Goya's, and some Max Ernst as well. But the crown jewel of the place is certainly Picasso's epic mural, "Guernica", which just happens to be my favorite painting of all time. I though it might be displayed in Madrid, but I wasn't sure. As we began to walk around the museum, I noticed several Picasso's drawn and/or painted in a style similar to Guernica. According to Nick Stang and Connor Johnson I actually gasped when we happened upon the room in which Guernica was displayed. I was positively giddy for the rest of our time at the museum, and those of you who know me know that I'm not normally a very giddy guy. I can say without a doubt that I've never felt greater excitement from seeing a painting in all of my life. Oh, and the Salvador Dali's were pretty great too (he might be my second favorite artist behind Picasso).
After my visit to Reina Sophia, I headed over to Madrid's equivalent of Central Park for a long walk through the trees in the midst of their fall color-change. Unfortunately, Fez doesn't have any legit greens space, so needless to say it was incredibly refreshing to have some time in such a beautiful park.
I was also lucky enough to visit the Prado Museum, Madrid's classic art museum. And like Reina Sophia, I was able to get into the Prado during their free hours. What a deal: two of the better museums in Europe without spending a dime. The Prado was amazing, but I'm not very partial to classic paintings. I respect the technical skill involved and I have been blown away by what people have been able to do with some paint and brushes, but I still get a bigger emotive kick out of contemporary, modern-era art. Nonetheless, I can't deny the amazing quality and size of the Prado's collection. When I was there, I saw dozens of Goya's, including his immensely disturbing "Pinturas Negras" (Black Paintings), which he composed shortly after going completely insane, a bunch of El Greco's and Diego Velázquez's (including his most famous work, "Las Meninas", one Caravaggio and one Rembrandt (Rembrandt's "Artemisia"), paintings by Tintoretto and Titian, Raphael and Durer, so many classic works, too many in fact; we were kicked out for closing time well before we could get to everything we wanted to see. I definitely got my money's worth though.
Well there's more to tell about Madrid, but I could go on for far too long about my weekend jaunt. One last funny anecdote: I was climbing into bed for an afternoon nap at our hostel and as per my habit, my bed-ward movement was accompanied by a series of grunts and groans from yours truly, just a little sample of my sounds of settling. I guess my noises are even stranger in Europe; a girl in our dormitory seemed to think I was in mortal pain, asking me if I was alright with an obvious sense of concern. I assured her that I was just fine.
Today I'm at the exact halfway point of my trip: two months down and two more to go. I'm over the hump, cruising on the down slope now, excited to get a move on. This is also my last night in Fez and I have to say, I'm ready to move on. My time here has been good for the most part, but I've had significant stretchs of boredom (there's absolutely nothing to do here) and homesickness made all the worse for not having stuff to do to distract me from missing home. My host family has been excellent, very accommodating with my schedule and more than willing to give me an ample amount of time on my own. I'll be sad to see them go, but it will be nice to not have to worry about stripping of Ziad's and Mohammed's 6th fingers every time I shake their hands.
I haven't really experienced any significant culture shock thus far on my trip, probably a consequence of my well-traveled past, which has certainly hardened me a bit against the strange sights you're guaranteed to encounter while you're abroad. However, upon my return from Spain, the underdeveloped reality of Morocco hit me a lot harder than when I first arrived in this country from Turkey. As I was walking back to my host family's apartment, I was suddenly enveloped in a strange sense of unreality. Even though I had walked the streets so many times before, on that night they seemed totally alien and unfamiliar to me. I guess I never realized how much I appreciate living in a developed country.
Tomorrow morning, I depart for my Moroccan excursion, which should be a blast. I'm looking forward most to Marrakesh, but I think Essouria will be equally awesome. It'll be good to get on the move; I've definitely been antsy this last month. I'm sure that I'll have some painfully long bus rides to tolerate, but it'll be totally worth it to get out and see some of this country beyond the close-packed walls of the Fez Medina. I'll make sure to keep you posted with pics included from my cross-country tour of Morocco, hitching a ride on the Marrakesh Express. Hard to believe that I'll be in Egypt In 12 days; I gotta tell you, that blows my mind. Another country to conquer, a step closer to home. Bring it on.
Until next time,
Your Favorite Luker
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Fez pics
As promised, here are some pictures from my time in Fez!
And now the picture you've all been waiting for...
I hope you all enjoyed the pictures! I leave for Madrid tomorrow afternoon for what is sure to be a fun weekend and a much needed break from Fez. I'll make sure to put down another blog upon my return from my jaunt to Spain.
Until next time,
Your Favorite Luker
Smile! You're In Fez!
Baker in the Medina
The Tannery (3rd dirtiest job in the world according to Mike Rowe):
The smell of this place was incredible, really overpowering. They gave us mint leaves to rub under our noses to mask the smell and that helped a little, but there's really nothing that can compare to the smell of tanning leather. It's probably the one scent I'll always associate with Fez.
The Water Clock:
One of my favorite places in Fez, Cafe Clock, is right next to the water clock, down a narrow alley way just below the left end of the clock. Cafe Clock serves up a delicious camel burger (see next photo down for the possible source of those tasty burgers)!
Meat Stand (notice the camel head dangling in the left side of the frame):
With the exception of the tannery, the raw smell of fresh, or (more likely) not so fresh meat is the other smell that dominates the streets of the Fez Medina. Gotta have a limited gag reflect and a tough stomach to brave these streets!
Crazy Cat Lady:
Typical Mosaic Motif
Town of Moulay Iddris:
We visited Moulay Iddris during our day trip on our first Saturday in Morocco. This town is the holiest site for Islam in all of Morocco.
Archway at the Ruins of Volubilis
Ziad Climbing:
My host brother Ziad (age 3) loves to climb up the door frames in the apartment. I'm always worried that he's going to fall, but judging by the nonchalance of his parents, I'd have to guess he's avoided hurting himself thus far.
And now the picture you've all been waiting for...
THE SIXTH FINGERS!!!
Now all of you can see the fingers, the unreality of which I could never hope to capture in words. Double click on the picture to get an up-close look, if you dare!
I hope you all enjoyed the pictures! I leave for Madrid tomorrow afternoon for what is sure to be a fun weekend and a much needed break from Fez. I'll make sure to put down another blog upon my return from my jaunt to Spain.
Until next time,
Your Favorite Luker
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Test time
I just finished rushing my way through my midterm for Professor Langerak's class, just so I could make it to my computer in time to write this blog! You can all be glad and proud of me for having such well-ordered priorities.
Seriously though, the test was not bad at all. I was well prepared and only minimally nervous. But, I am worried that my long-windedness might have gotten the best of me, yet again; too often, I end up saying more and more about less and less, and in the end I'm not really saying anything about anything; I'm just rambling. I only hope that Professor Langerak has the patience to read through all of my illegible, disorganized thoughts.
I am glad to be finished with the test. Even though studying was not overly difficult or stressful especially compared to the typical academic burden back at St. Olaf, in comparison to the the rest of the trip, which has been extremely relaxed in regards to academics, my brief, mild return to the stress and time commitments of St. Olaf was still a bit taxing.
In other news, my impression of Fez has improved considerably since my last post. Unfortunately, that improvement has been nothing more than a progression from mild disgust to persistent boredom. There's really nothing to do here during the day or during the night. I'd be just fine with Fez's lack of nighttime activities if this city had daytime diversions to offer, but as far as I can tell, there is nothing to do here, regardless of the time of day. Istanbul had it all: nightlife (bars, clubs, concerts, sporting events), cultural activities (mosques, museums), and basic diversions (beautiful views, places to exercise, etc.). There's just not enough to keep me active and engaged, and all of you how fast my attention can wander. Usually, I'd hesitate to blame my boredom on either my location or my ADD; in most cases, my boredom is my own fault, a consequence of my failure to be open-minded and adventurous. But, in the case of Fez, I can't help passing the buck.
Don't get me wrong, I have enjoyed some of my time in Fez; I just wouldn't have chosen to stay here for this long if it had been up to me. I've appreciated my time with my host family much more than I expected. Last Sunday, my host dad Jamal brought me with on some of his errands throughout the Medina, guiding me through a series of small, labyrinthine side streets I never would've been confident enough to explore on my own. I've also been able to purchase some excellent gifts; definitely the first time I've ever been this prudent with my Christmas shopping.
Well, I will get an excellent respite from Fez this weekend. The day after tomorrow, I'll be heading out for the weekend on a Ryan Air flight bound for Madrid. I booked the flight for the unbelievably low price of $36USD, and I'm sure I'll get just what I paid for (tiny seat, extra charge for using the bathroom, complete lack of customer service). Whatever. I'm going to Spain!
I only have a few days left in Fez, thankfully, but hopefully I can make the most of them. Next Wednesday, I'll be off on my Moroccan Excursion, which is sure to be excellent. Turkish excursion was pretty draining, but after the boredom of Fez, even if Moroccan excursion is dominated by long bus rides, I'm sure it'll be a welcome change nonetheless. I wanted to post some pictures from Fez, including photos of the infamous 6th fingers on the hands of my host brothers, but it looks like Blogspot has disabled Image uploads for the next two hours. I'll try to put some up tomorrow if I have the time.
I hope all of you are well!
Until next time,
Your Favorite Luker
Seriously though, the test was not bad at all. I was well prepared and only minimally nervous. But, I am worried that my long-windedness might have gotten the best of me, yet again; too often, I end up saying more and more about less and less, and in the end I'm not really saying anything about anything; I'm just rambling. I only hope that Professor Langerak has the patience to read through all of my illegible, disorganized thoughts.
I am glad to be finished with the test. Even though studying was not overly difficult or stressful especially compared to the typical academic burden back at St. Olaf, in comparison to the the rest of the trip, which has been extremely relaxed in regards to academics, my brief, mild return to the stress and time commitments of St. Olaf was still a bit taxing.
In other news, my impression of Fez has improved considerably since my last post. Unfortunately, that improvement has been nothing more than a progression from mild disgust to persistent boredom. There's really nothing to do here during the day or during the night. I'd be just fine with Fez's lack of nighttime activities if this city had daytime diversions to offer, but as far as I can tell, there is nothing to do here, regardless of the time of day. Istanbul had it all: nightlife (bars, clubs, concerts, sporting events), cultural activities (mosques, museums), and basic diversions (beautiful views, places to exercise, etc.). There's just not enough to keep me active and engaged, and all of you how fast my attention can wander. Usually, I'd hesitate to blame my boredom on either my location or my ADD; in most cases, my boredom is my own fault, a consequence of my failure to be open-minded and adventurous. But, in the case of Fez, I can't help passing the buck.
Don't get me wrong, I have enjoyed some of my time in Fez; I just wouldn't have chosen to stay here for this long if it had been up to me. I've appreciated my time with my host family much more than I expected. Last Sunday, my host dad Jamal brought me with on some of his errands throughout the Medina, guiding me through a series of small, labyrinthine side streets I never would've been confident enough to explore on my own. I've also been able to purchase some excellent gifts; definitely the first time I've ever been this prudent with my Christmas shopping.
Well, I will get an excellent respite from Fez this weekend. The day after tomorrow, I'll be heading out for the weekend on a Ryan Air flight bound for Madrid. I booked the flight for the unbelievably low price of $36USD, and I'm sure I'll get just what I paid for (tiny seat, extra charge for using the bathroom, complete lack of customer service). Whatever. I'm going to Spain!
I only have a few days left in Fez, thankfully, but hopefully I can make the most of them. Next Wednesday, I'll be off on my Moroccan Excursion, which is sure to be excellent. Turkish excursion was pretty draining, but after the boredom of Fez, even if Moroccan excursion is dominated by long bus rides, I'm sure it'll be a welcome change nonetheless. I wanted to post some pictures from Fez, including photos of the infamous 6th fingers on the hands of my host brothers, but it looks like Blogspot has disabled Image uploads for the next two hours. I'll try to put some up tomorrow if I have the time.
I hope all of you are well!
Until next time,
Your Favorite Luker
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Moroccan Food 1, Luke 0
Well, just like the Twinkies, in spite of a good start, Luker ended up getting his ass kicked in the opening week of his Moroccan adventure. Two nights before the Twins suffered at the hands of Mark Texeira and the Damn Yankees, I was hunched over a toilet, violently expunging the contents of my guts with bidirectional efficiency, or in order to be more accurate, I should describe my situation as a bidirectional dilemma. It was damned ugly. Our host family's bathroom already has some pretty offensive odors and it's too bad I had to add to it in such extreme, revolting fashion.
The cause of my sudden intestinal distress was obviously food poisoning. My only other experience with food-poisoning came during my Sophomore year of high school when I fell victim to an undercooked hot dog from the Lindbergh Center. Getting hit with a bout of food-borne illness was inevitable on a trip like this; I only hope that my episode thoroughly immunized me to any future digestive issues. After my awful night, I was able to take a room at the ALIF residence where I could recover without worrying my host family, or succumbing further to the formidable stench of their bathroom. I slept for the entire day, out cold, tucked in deep with the cousin of death. And even after sleeping for an entire day, I was able to fall straight back to sleep after a light meal of bread, Pringles, and 7-Up.
To be honest, I do feel proud of myself for how I handled the whole situation. After my poisoning in high school, I was laid up for over 4 days, completely bed-ridden and determined to complain non-stop until I was feeling back up to 100%. During my Moroccan ordeal, I felt surprisingly detached and calm the whole time. I remember thinking, "Wow, this really sucks. This is really a bummer, but what the hell can I do about it? Whatever. Gotta roll with the intestinal punches I guess. Gotta get everything out of me, and then I'll be all good again. Gotta let the rivers of vomit and diarrhea run their course." All things considered, I was pretty Zen throughout the whole ordeal.
And today, I'm certainly on the mend, feeling much better, well on my way back to 100%. And I have to admit, griping on my blog makes me feel better too. Allow me to extend a combined apology/thank you; I apologize for complaining, and I thank you for enduring said complaints.
I only hope that my brief retelling of my unfortunate gut trauma hasn't upset any of you too much. I apologize for that as well if I've happened to offend your tummies. Trust me, I could've gone into much more graphic, disgusting detail. Trust me, I exercised a considerable degree of restraint while writing this post.
Well, Morocco is off to a bit of a rocky start, but I'm confident that things will improve soon enough. Today, I booked plane tickets to Madrid for a trip on the weekend of the 22nd. And the tickets were only $36USD. I'm guessing Ryan Air might be a bit sketchy, but I don't mind getting what I paid for when I only paid 36 bucks for a flight.
I hope all of you are well. Know that I'm damned jealous that I can't get live access to the Twin's games like all of you lucky persons. The 5 hour time difference would seem to be manageable as far as game watching goes, but unfortunately, I only have internet access until 9 pm my time. That's a bummer dawg. Well, at least I can stay posted on their progress even though I may not get a chance to watch the game action.
That's all I've got.
Until next time,
Your Favorite Luker
The cause of my sudden intestinal distress was obviously food poisoning. My only other experience with food-poisoning came during my Sophomore year of high school when I fell victim to an undercooked hot dog from the Lindbergh Center. Getting hit with a bout of food-borne illness was inevitable on a trip like this; I only hope that my episode thoroughly immunized me to any future digestive issues. After my awful night, I was able to take a room at the ALIF residence where I could recover without worrying my host family, or succumbing further to the formidable stench of their bathroom. I slept for the entire day, out cold, tucked in deep with the cousin of death. And even after sleeping for an entire day, I was able to fall straight back to sleep after a light meal of bread, Pringles, and 7-Up.
To be honest, I do feel proud of myself for how I handled the whole situation. After my poisoning in high school, I was laid up for over 4 days, completely bed-ridden and determined to complain non-stop until I was feeling back up to 100%. During my Moroccan ordeal, I felt surprisingly detached and calm the whole time. I remember thinking, "Wow, this really sucks. This is really a bummer, but what the hell can I do about it? Whatever. Gotta roll with the intestinal punches I guess. Gotta get everything out of me, and then I'll be all good again. Gotta let the rivers of vomit and diarrhea run their course." All things considered, I was pretty Zen throughout the whole ordeal.
And today, I'm certainly on the mend, feeling much better, well on my way back to 100%. And I have to admit, griping on my blog makes me feel better too. Allow me to extend a combined apology/thank you; I apologize for complaining, and I thank you for enduring said complaints.
I only hope that my brief retelling of my unfortunate gut trauma hasn't upset any of you too much. I apologize for that as well if I've happened to offend your tummies. Trust me, I could've gone into much more graphic, disgusting detail. Trust me, I exercised a considerable degree of restraint while writing this post.
Well, Morocco is off to a bit of a rocky start, but I'm confident that things will improve soon enough. Today, I booked plane tickets to Madrid for a trip on the weekend of the 22nd. And the tickets were only $36USD. I'm guessing Ryan Air might be a bit sketchy, but I don't mind getting what I paid for when I only paid 36 bucks for a flight.
I hope all of you are well. Know that I'm damned jealous that I can't get live access to the Twin's games like all of you lucky persons. The 5 hour time difference would seem to be manageable as far as game watching goes, but unfortunately, I only have internet access until 9 pm my time. That's a bummer dawg. Well, at least I can stay posted on their progress even though I may not get a chance to watch the game action.
That's all I've got.
Until next time,
Your Favorite Luker
Monday, October 4, 2010
Made it to Morocco!
After a long Turkish excursion (the sites were amazing; the bus rides were exhausting), and an intense day of travel, I've finally made it Morocco, the second country on my semester-long, Middle Eastern jaunt. Well, it's quite a bit more than a jaunt, a journey indeed, an adventure, a quest, whatever you want to call it. Morocco is the second African country I've visited since I spent two weeks in Tanzania in the summer of 2007. But, Morocco is obviously a far different country than Tanzania, hunkered down on the northwest corner of the continent, a short jump across the Strait of Gibraltar from Spain and the rest of Europe.
I'm taking class at the Arabic/American Language Institute in Fez; it remains unclear what the "A" actually stands for, but since I'm learning Arabic, I guess we'll have to run with that designation for the wayward A. We have several meetings of Arabic class, 8 all told, I believe. In addition to Arabic, I'll have several sessions of a class on Moroccan Sociology, a variety of guest lectures related to our main sociology course, five meetings of Professor Langerak's class, and also a Moroccan cooking, which is sure to be especially interesting, or at least, especially delicious.
For those of you who don't know, during my time in Fez, I'll be living with a Moroccan host family in the old Medina. My family, the Naciri's are gracious, friendly hosts. They have a modest flat apartment near the walls of the Medina, a short walk from the Batha Gate, and about 10 minutes by cab from ALIF. Jamal, the father, is a music professor at a public school in Fez. The mother, Fadwa, is a stay-at-home mom as far as I can tell. The family has two young sons, Mohammed age 7 and Ziad age 3. The boys are very rambunctious. Ziad enjoys climbing over and leaping from all of the furniture in the house. At first, I felt like I should be on guard to catch him as often as possible, but the rest of the family seems to be relatively unconcerned by his clambering antics, so I'm guessing Ziad has avoided any serious accidents thus far. Perhaps, my vigilance will be unnecessary.
On a strange note, the boys both have extra, 6th fingers on the sides of each hand. This might sound unbelievable, but trust me, it's true, and trust me, seeing their odd hands in the flesh is far more shocking than hearing about them via my second-hand description. Their extra digits are not fully formed; the fingers consist of a single bony knuckle dangling from a thin tag of skin. The nubs dangle and swing from the sides of their hands. The boys have a strange habit of banging one of their fists into the palm of their other hand, causing the fingers jump about. Sometimes, they'll waggle their extra appendage right in your face. Shaking their hand is a really freaky experience; I have to be careful not to squeeze too hard because it feels like I could tear off the extra finger from their small hands. And I have to be honest, I catch myself staring all of the time. I probably shouldn't be as disturbed as I am. I guess the extra finger affliction is actually a genetically dominant trait, but obviously a trait that is "corrected" by removal of the offending appendages.
With the exception of two pairs of funny fingers, the family is wonderful. They have hosted many students in the past, including a pair of students from Minnesota who lived with them for several months last year.
So far, my days have been mellow. I haven't had enough time yet to explore the Medina, although I'm not sure any amount of time would be enough to really learn my way around this place. It's absolutely nuts, a bewildering network of narrow winding streets, innumerable turns and side alleys all snaking through high walls that block out any distant reference point. During our group tour of the Medina last Friday, our guide Ali gave a particularly apropos bit of advice in regards to exploring the Medina: "To learn, you must lose your reason. To learn, you must lose yourself". That's some pretty deep advice.
I'm usually pretty good with directions, but my navigational abilities are guaranteed to fail me as I struggle to weave my way through the Medina. Hopefully I don't end up trapped in an alley with a bunch of Moroccan glue sniffers; they can be a nasty bunch. That's mostly a joke. I don't think anybody is going to mess with me, what with my size and all. And besides, I doubt I'll ever be wandering around in the Medina on my own.
Well, I hope all of you at home are well and happy! I have a feeling October is going to fly right by. Next weekend, the weekend of the 15th, I'm probably going to be traveling to either Madrid or Seville. I'll keep you posted on those Spanish adventures. I'll probably find time to throw up another post before then, but just in case I don't...
Until next time,
Your Favorite Luker
I'm taking class at the Arabic/American Language Institute in Fez; it remains unclear what the "A" actually stands for, but since I'm learning Arabic, I guess we'll have to run with that designation for the wayward A. We have several meetings of Arabic class, 8 all told, I believe. In addition to Arabic, I'll have several sessions of a class on Moroccan Sociology, a variety of guest lectures related to our main sociology course, five meetings of Professor Langerak's class, and also a Moroccan cooking, which is sure to be especially interesting, or at least, especially delicious.
For those of you who don't know, during my time in Fez, I'll be living with a Moroccan host family in the old Medina. My family, the Naciri's are gracious, friendly hosts. They have a modest flat apartment near the walls of the Medina, a short walk from the Batha Gate, and about 10 minutes by cab from ALIF. Jamal, the father, is a music professor at a public school in Fez. The mother, Fadwa, is a stay-at-home mom as far as I can tell. The family has two young sons, Mohammed age 7 and Ziad age 3. The boys are very rambunctious. Ziad enjoys climbing over and leaping from all of the furniture in the house. At first, I felt like I should be on guard to catch him as often as possible, but the rest of the family seems to be relatively unconcerned by his clambering antics, so I'm guessing Ziad has avoided any serious accidents thus far. Perhaps, my vigilance will be unnecessary.
On a strange note, the boys both have extra, 6th fingers on the sides of each hand. This might sound unbelievable, but trust me, it's true, and trust me, seeing their odd hands in the flesh is far more shocking than hearing about them via my second-hand description. Their extra digits are not fully formed; the fingers consist of a single bony knuckle dangling from a thin tag of skin. The nubs dangle and swing from the sides of their hands. The boys have a strange habit of banging one of their fists into the palm of their other hand, causing the fingers jump about. Sometimes, they'll waggle their extra appendage right in your face. Shaking their hand is a really freaky experience; I have to be careful not to squeeze too hard because it feels like I could tear off the extra finger from their small hands. And I have to be honest, I catch myself staring all of the time. I probably shouldn't be as disturbed as I am. I guess the extra finger affliction is actually a genetically dominant trait, but obviously a trait that is "corrected" by removal of the offending appendages.
With the exception of two pairs of funny fingers, the family is wonderful. They have hosted many students in the past, including a pair of students from Minnesota who lived with them for several months last year.
So far, my days have been mellow. I haven't had enough time yet to explore the Medina, although I'm not sure any amount of time would be enough to really learn my way around this place. It's absolutely nuts, a bewildering network of narrow winding streets, innumerable turns and side alleys all snaking through high walls that block out any distant reference point. During our group tour of the Medina last Friday, our guide Ali gave a particularly apropos bit of advice in regards to exploring the Medina: "To learn, you must lose your reason. To learn, you must lose yourself". That's some pretty deep advice.
I'm usually pretty good with directions, but my navigational abilities are guaranteed to fail me as I struggle to weave my way through the Medina. Hopefully I don't end up trapped in an alley with a bunch of Moroccan glue sniffers; they can be a nasty bunch. That's mostly a joke. I don't think anybody is going to mess with me, what with my size and all. And besides, I doubt I'll ever be wandering around in the Medina on my own.
Well, I hope all of you at home are well and happy! I have a feeling October is going to fly right by. Next weekend, the weekend of the 15th, I'm probably going to be traveling to either Madrid or Seville. I'll keep you posted on those Spanish adventures. I'll probably find time to throw up another post before then, but just in case I don't...
Until next time,
Your Favorite Luker
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Cappadocia Claustrophobia
Well I learned something new about myself during my Turkish excursion; I have some pretty serious claustrophobia, definitely a legit, close-space-induced panic issue with all of the symptoms you might expect. My heart raced, my breath was ragged, I felt like a caged, suffocating animal. I was freaking the f*** out. Let me throw down some background information and some pictures of Cappadocia before I delve into the gory details of my claustrophobic episode:
The region of Cappadocia, located in east central Turkey, is a pretty incredible place in regards to it's scenery. Cappadocia's distinctive landscape is the product of volcanic ash deposited by ancient, now dormant volcanoes. Over the centuries, wind, rain, and rivers have sculpted the rock into a variety of surreal forms, including the famous "fairy chimneys. "Distinctive" is probably too light of an adjective to describe this place. I've never seen any naturally formed scenery that comes even close to this place. My descriptions and even my pictures cannot do it justice. It's like a hopped up version of the Badlands, literally the Badlands on psychedelic drugs. Pardon the blasphemy, but I wouldn't be surprised if God had been tripping balls when he sculpted Cappadocia. Here's a few photos to give you just the palest sense of this place:
I love this place. We've only been here for two days and I could certainly use some more time here. Taking pictures, scrambling up and down ash rock faces, hiking, exploring: it's all been freaking awesome, and I only wish we could stay here longer.
Now, onto the account of my freak out. On our first day in Cappadocia, we visited an underground city built by early Christians. When Arabs and Mongols mounted attacks on the ancient Christian towns of Cappadocia, Christian residents would retreat into these underground strongholds for protection. I'm not a brutish Mongol warrior or a fierce Arab fighter, but I am a big dude, and I'm usually a pretty daring fellow. However, I had a damn tough time braving my way through those caves. I am proud to say that I made it through our entire tour, but I'm embarrassed to admit that I griped and whined the whole way. During the tightest squeezes, I had to crouch down to my knees with my shoulders rolled over and my arms held tight to my chest. In this hunched pose, I shuffled my way through the narrow passages, praying with every panicky breath that the roof of the passage would hold up until I had passed. My heart was racing, my breath was ragged; I felt like I was on the edge of passing out; I scraped my head and shoulders multiple times; I was convinced that the exit tunnels would collapse leaving me trapped four stories down into the earth. If I was 20 years older, I would've had a heart attack. My refrain for the day was, "I don't like this. I don't like this. Not cool. God, I don't like this. I'm freaking out, man. I'm freaking out!" etc. etc. And imagine that refrain sung in a voice soaked with panic, cracking all over the place, tense as steel cable pulled taut between two John Deere tractors. Here's a set of pics from down in the caves, just to give you an idea of what I was dealing with:
The Group Ducking Down (I'm over a head taller than everyone in this photo. Needless to say, my neck was craned all the way over the whole time we were down in the caves)
I can't say that my experience in the caves was actually a full-blown panic attack, but it was easily one of the most extreme feelings of panic I've ever experienced. For the most part, I can keep my cool, but not this time. I'm tempted to attribute my extreme discomfort to the incompatibility between tiny, carved out caves and my own huge body, but I don't think that would be fair to all of the smaller, equally claustrophobic people who may or may not have explored the caves before me with more courage, and probably with far less complaining than I.
Well, I did survive and I did learn something new about myself as far as phobias go. I'll tell you this though; I will not be going back down into any underground cities for a long, long time. My experience didn't kill me, it probably didn't make me any stronger, but it did make me a bit smarter. Now I know that I need to avoid close quarters of the underground variety at all costs. I'm lucky I'm young. There's no way I could've made it through that damn place if I was 40.
Until next time (barring my death in an underground cave collapse),
Your Favorite Luker
The region of Cappadocia, located in east central Turkey, is a pretty incredible place in regards to it's scenery. Cappadocia's distinctive landscape is the product of volcanic ash deposited by ancient, now dormant volcanoes. Over the centuries, wind, rain, and rivers have sculpted the rock into a variety of surreal forms, including the famous "fairy chimneys. "Distinctive" is probably too light of an adjective to describe this place. I've never seen any naturally formed scenery that comes even close to this place. My descriptions and even my pictures cannot do it justice. It's like a hopped up version of the Badlands, literally the Badlands on psychedelic drugs. Pardon the blasphemy, but I wouldn't be surprised if God had been tripping balls when he sculpted Cappadocia. Here's a few photos to give you just the palest sense of this place:
Goreme: City in the Rocks
Ash Rock Spires
I love this place. We've only been here for two days and I could certainly use some more time here. Taking pictures, scrambling up and down ash rock faces, hiking, exploring: it's all been freaking awesome, and I only wish we could stay here longer.
Now, onto the account of my freak out. On our first day in Cappadocia, we visited an underground city built by early Christians. When Arabs and Mongols mounted attacks on the ancient Christian towns of Cappadocia, Christian residents would retreat into these underground strongholds for protection. I'm not a brutish Mongol warrior or a fierce Arab fighter, but I am a big dude, and I'm usually a pretty daring fellow. However, I had a damn tough time braving my way through those caves. I am proud to say that I made it through our entire tour, but I'm embarrassed to admit that I griped and whined the whole way. During the tightest squeezes, I had to crouch down to my knees with my shoulders rolled over and my arms held tight to my chest. In this hunched pose, I shuffled my way through the narrow passages, praying with every panicky breath that the roof of the passage would hold up until I had passed. My heart was racing, my breath was ragged; I felt like I was on the edge of passing out; I scraped my head and shoulders multiple times; I was convinced that the exit tunnels would collapse leaving me trapped four stories down into the earth. If I was 20 years older, I would've had a heart attack. My refrain for the day was, "I don't like this. I don't like this. Not cool. God, I don't like this. I'm freaking out, man. I'm freaking out!" etc. etc. And imagine that refrain sung in a voice soaked with panic, cracking all over the place, tense as steel cable pulled taut between two John Deere tractors. Here's a set of pics from down in the caves, just to give you an idea of what I was dealing with:
Squattin' (I may look happy, but let me assure you, that's sheer panic you're seeing in my eyes)
Tight Squeeze
The Group Ducking Down (I'm over a head taller than everyone in this photo. Needless to say, my neck was craned all the way over the whole time we were down in the caves)
Well, I did survive and I did learn something new about myself as far as phobias go. I'll tell you this though; I will not be going back down into any underground cities for a long, long time. My experience didn't kill me, it probably didn't make me any stronger, but it did make me a bit smarter. Now I know that I need to avoid close quarters of the underground variety at all costs. I'm lucky I'm young. There's no way I could've made it through that damn place if I was 40.
Until next time (barring my death in an underground cave collapse),
Your Favorite Luker
Thursday, September 23, 2010
My Turkish Excursion
What's up all,
I'm hanging out in the lobby of the Richmond Hotel in Pammukale, Turkey, home to a wide expanse of famous mineral bluffs. In a few minutes, we'll set off to explore the bluffs for the morning; hopefully we can take a swim in the mineral hot springs up there, weather and site guards permitting. I would like to write a longer post, but I'm short on time, so I think I'll just resort to cutting and pasting my most recent post for the TIME group blog. Enjoy! Also, don't forget to check out my photo blog if you have a hankering to look at some half-decent photos:
Luker Around the World
Here's the blog post:
Greetings from Kuşadasi, on the shores of the Aegean Sea!
We've just finished the fourth day of our Turkish excursion, but it certainly feels as if we've been on the road for much longer. Spending hour after hour on a cramped, knee-crushing tour bus will tend to stretch out your sense of time. Apart from the hassles of large-group transportation, so far, the trip has been amazing, full of new experiences and moderately sketchy adventures (e.g. swimming in the Aegean Sea at night, hiking through ancient ruins, maybe wandering out of bounds and getting whistled at by a security guard, etc.). Many of us were sad to leave Istanbul, which proved to be a fascinating, exciting city to experience and explore.
On Sunday, our first day of excursion, we spent over 7 hours on the bus in transit from Istanbul to our various tour sites and to our final destination in the fishing village of Assos where we spent Sunday night. First, we visited the battlefields and graveyards of Galipoli on the shores of the Dardanelles. Galipoli was beautiful, somber, and surprisingly intense. From Galipoli, we traveled for several hours to the alleged site of the ancient city of Troy, the famous city of Homer's Iliad. To be honest, Troy was a bit underwhelming. The remaining structures are in poor shape despite ongoing excavation efforts. All of it seemed a bit dingy: we expected something epic, but unfortunately, the real Troy failed to live up to the epic expectations set by the Iliad.
After our first day of excursion, we bunked down in the town of Assos, a charming, peaceful fishing village on the shores of the Aegean. Aristotle lived in Assos for a number of years circa 350 BC, and he even established an academy there. St. Paul also visited Assos on his third missionary expedition through Asia Minor between 53-57 AD. Thanks to Professor Langerak for all of the historical background relayed in this post (even though we don't have any class during excursion, we're still managing to learn a bit)! The entire group took a late night swim in Assos, which was a wonderful experience for us. Hopefully we didn't encroach to much upon the peace and quiet of our fellow guests...
Many of us were sad to leave Assos. Our current accommodations at the Batihan Beach Resort in Kuşadasi are far from charming. In fact, it might be safe to say that the Batihan is the complete antithesis to charm, peace, and quiet. This place is like a cheap, trashy, dingy, Mexican-esque, Miami Beach rip-off for vacationing Europeans. So far, we haven't been able to find a single non-fluorescent light in the hotel; the whole place is bathed in a sickly light. This place is like the J.C. Penny's of hotels; everyone seems desperate and there's way too much going on. It would make a perfect setting for a creepy murder mystery novel or a grade B horror/slasher flick. In short, the place gives all of us the "heebie-jeebies". We are all sick and tired of eating at the greasy, gluttonous buffet, getting stuck in the elevators with scantily clad grandparents, walking across the thin beach littered with more cigarette butts than sand, and listening to the incessant, Euro-trash techno house music, which blares from the poolside speakers long into the night. Needless to say, we are all excited to move out of here.
In spite of the shadiness of our current hotel, our tours over the last three days have been excellent. On Monday, we visited Pergamon, an ancient Greek city located 16 miles (26 km) from the Aegean Sea on a promontory overlooking the north side of the river Caicus modern day Bakircay. Pergamon was very cool. Check out this picture of our group gathered at the acropolis of Pergamon!
After Pergamon, we traveled a short distance to the Asclepion, an ancient medical center where patients received basic psychosomatic treatments. The "doctors"/faith healers of the Asclepion employed a variety of psychological techniques including whispering subliminal messages and interpreting the dreams of their patients. The success rate of the Asclepion was said to be very high, but Professor Langerak pointed out that the center would only accept patients that had a good chance of being cured. Here's a picture of the main grounds of the Asclepion!
Yesterday (Tuesday), we visited three different sites including Priene, Miletus, and Didyma. Alexander the Great lived in Priene for a number of years. The city is built on steep slopes that used to overlook the Aegean Sea before the sea receded to its current shores.
After Priene, we traveled across the valley of the Maeander River to Miletus, an ancient port city that used to be one of the wealthiest cities in the entire Greek empire before the Persian invasion. Miletus was also the home city of some of the first Greek philosophers including Thales, Anaximander, and Anaximinies. Here are some pictures of the stadium at Miletus, which used to host plays and gladiator games!
For the last leg of our Tuesday tours, we visited Didyma, home to an incredible temple to the Greek sun god, Apollo. We'll let the pictures speak for themselves; the place was unbelievably preserved and insanely huge.
But, our adventure today might prove to be one of the best highlights of our entire semester, or at least of our time in Turkey. We spent the day cruising the Aegean Sea on a private yacht, taking long swims in pure blue water, leaping into the water from 25+ feet up on the top of our ship, snorkeling, lounging under the sun on the top deck, sprawled out over piles of soft pillows. In a word, today was sublime. Some of us may have swallowed too much saltwater, and some of us might have failed to apply enough sunscreen, but apart from some sore stomachs and burnt shoulders, today was pretty close to perfect.
Tomorrow morning, we leave the awful Batihan Resort for another long day of touring to Ephesus, Pamukkale, and Aphrodisias. We'll spend tomorrow night in Konya followed by two nights (Friday and Saturday) in Cappadocia. Excursion has been most excellent so far, and even the hangups and annoyances of long bus rides and seedy hotels will eventually morph into hilarious stories; if we can escape Batihan without getting axe-murdered by a Euro-trash serial killer sporting a mullet and a Speedo, it'll be pretty easy to look back and laugh about our brief stay in beach resort Hell.
Until next time,
Your Favorite Luker
I'm hanging out in the lobby of the Richmond Hotel in Pammukale, Turkey, home to a wide expanse of famous mineral bluffs. In a few minutes, we'll set off to explore the bluffs for the morning; hopefully we can take a swim in the mineral hot springs up there, weather and site guards permitting. I would like to write a longer post, but I'm short on time, so I think I'll just resort to cutting and pasting my most recent post for the TIME group blog. Enjoy! Also, don't forget to check out my photo blog if you have a hankering to look at some half-decent photos:
Luker Around the World
Here's the blog post:
We've just finished the fourth day of our Turkish excursion, but it certainly feels as if we've been on the road for much longer. Spending hour after hour on a cramped, knee-crushing tour bus will tend to stretch out your sense of time. Apart from the hassles of large-group transportation, so far, the trip has been amazing, full of new experiences and moderately sketchy adventures (e.g. swimming in the Aegean Sea at night, hiking through ancient ruins, maybe wandering out of bounds and getting whistled at by a security guard, etc.). Many of us were sad to leave Istanbul, which proved to be a fascinating, exciting city to experience and explore.
On Sunday, our first day of excursion, we spent over 7 hours on the bus in transit from Istanbul to our various tour sites and to our final destination in the fishing village of Assos where we spent Sunday night. First, we visited the battlefields and graveyards of Galipoli on the shores of the Dardanelles. Galipoli was beautiful, somber, and surprisingly intense. From Galipoli, we traveled for several hours to the alleged site of the ancient city of Troy, the famous city of Homer's Iliad. To be honest, Troy was a bit underwhelming. The remaining structures are in poor shape despite ongoing excavation efforts. All of it seemed a bit dingy: we expected something epic, but unfortunately, the real Troy failed to live up to the epic expectations set by the Iliad.
After our first day of excursion, we bunked down in the town of Assos, a charming, peaceful fishing village on the shores of the Aegean. Aristotle lived in Assos for a number of years circa 350 BC, and he even established an academy there. St. Paul also visited Assos on his third missionary expedition through Asia Minor between 53-57 AD. Thanks to Professor Langerak for all of the historical background relayed in this post (even though we don't have any class during excursion, we're still managing to learn a bit)! The entire group took a late night swim in Assos, which was a wonderful experience for us. Hopefully we didn't encroach to much upon the peace and quiet of our fellow guests...
Many of us were sad to leave Assos. Our current accommodations at the Batihan Beach Resort in Kuşadasi are far from charming. In fact, it might be safe to say that the Batihan is the complete antithesis to charm, peace, and quiet. This place is like a cheap, trashy, dingy, Mexican-esque, Miami Beach rip-off for vacationing Europeans. So far, we haven't been able to find a single non-fluorescent light in the hotel; the whole place is bathed in a sickly light. This place is like the J.C. Penny's of hotels; everyone seems desperate and there's way too much going on. It would make a perfect setting for a creepy murder mystery novel or a grade B horror/slasher flick. In short, the place gives all of us the "heebie-jeebies". We are all sick and tired of eating at the greasy, gluttonous buffet, getting stuck in the elevators with scantily clad grandparents, walking across the thin beach littered with more cigarette butts than sand, and listening to the incessant, Euro-trash techno house music, which blares from the poolside speakers long into the night. Needless to say, we are all excited to move out of here.
In spite of the shadiness of our current hotel, our tours over the last three days have been excellent. On Monday, we visited Pergamon, an ancient Greek city located 16 miles (26 km) from the Aegean Sea on a promontory overlooking the north side of the river Caicus modern day Bakircay. Pergamon was very cool. Check out this picture of our group gathered at the acropolis of Pergamon!
After Pergamon, we traveled a short distance to the Asclepion, an ancient medical center where patients received basic psychosomatic treatments. The "doctors"/faith healers of the Asclepion employed a variety of psychological techniques including whispering subliminal messages and interpreting the dreams of their patients. The success rate of the Asclepion was said to be very high, but Professor Langerak pointed out that the center would only accept patients that had a good chance of being cured. Here's a picture of the main grounds of the Asclepion!
Yesterday (Tuesday), we visited three different sites including Priene, Miletus, and Didyma. Alexander the Great lived in Priene for a number of years. The city is built on steep slopes that used to overlook the Aegean Sea before the sea receded to its current shores.
After Priene, we traveled across the valley of the Maeander River to Miletus, an ancient port city that used to be one of the wealthiest cities in the entire Greek empire before the Persian invasion. Miletus was also the home city of some of the first Greek philosophers including Thales, Anaximander, and Anaximinies. Here are some pictures of the stadium at Miletus, which used to host plays and gladiator games!
Group in the Miletus Stadium
Miletus Stadium
For the last leg of our Tuesday tours, we visited Didyma, home to an incredible temple to the Greek sun god, Apollo. We'll let the pictures speak for themselves; the place was unbelievably preserved and insanely huge.
Front steps of the Temple to Apollo
Inside the Temple to Apollo
But, our adventure today might prove to be one of the best highlights of our entire semester, or at least of our time in Turkey. We spent the day cruising the Aegean Sea on a private yacht, taking long swims in pure blue water, leaping into the water from 25+ feet up on the top of our ship, snorkeling, lounging under the sun on the top deck, sprawled out over piles of soft pillows. In a word, today was sublime. Some of us may have swallowed too much saltwater, and some of us might have failed to apply enough sunscreen, but apart from some sore stomachs and burnt shoulders, today was pretty close to perfect.
Tomorrow morning, we leave the awful Batihan Resort for another long day of touring to Ephesus, Pamukkale, and Aphrodisias. We'll spend tomorrow night in Konya followed by two nights (Friday and Saturday) in Cappadocia. Excursion has been most excellent so far, and even the hangups and annoyances of long bus rides and seedy hotels will eventually morph into hilarious stories; if we can escape Batihan without getting axe-murdered by a Euro-trash serial killer sporting a mullet and a Speedo, it'll be pretty easy to look back and laugh about our brief stay in beach resort Hell.
Until next time,
Your Favorite Luker
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