the long road home

Apologies for another photo blog. It's just the quickest way I can attempt a summary of what my last couple weeks in the Middle East were like.

Early one morning, some friends and I rented a van and hired a driver and set off before sunrise, heading east toward Syria's most famous ruins - Palmyra. These are not the ruins.
These are the ruins.

I walked by this man and saw that he was sweeping. At first I just thought, right, early morning janitor at the ruins. And then I realized, he's sweeping...the dirt. [insert quizzical expression]

Nearby, there are really old tower tombs still standing. Ruth and I climbed up and explored. Ruth was my roommate at the monastery, a delightful British pianist and really lovely girl.
Play dead.

Palmyra is halfway between Damascus and the...Euphrates, I believe. This way to Iraq...
In Damascus, this is my favorite statue - Salah al-Din, very triumphant.
My friend Jen and I thought it was imperative to eat some really excellent Iraqi food before leaving Syria. We went down to Jaramana (home to many many thousands of Iraqi refugees, primarily Christians) and, after buying Ninja Turtle hand sanitizer and cola-flavored toothpaste, decided to eat at the Zarzoor Grill Fallujah Restaurant. It was a feast of epic proportions, and incredibly delicious.
The next night, my last in Syria, was spent at another graduation for Iraqi students - this time, students from beauty school. Several of us performed during the presentation, which was really special and a lot of fun. Usually the pre-graduation presentations are accompanied by Mariah Carey "Hero" or some Celine Dion, so we were pleased this time to switch it up with a few Zimbabwe songs, a little "Lean On Me", and even some dancing. I played piano for a couple and did some (gulp) backup singing for the others. The graduation was great, and afterwards, because I was leaving a little early from the program, I had dinner with some good friends at another amazing Iraqi shawarma place. These are some of the Iraqis and Syrians I worked with
at the Patriarchate:The next morning, I took a shared cab to Beirut (shared with the driver, a sheikh, a soon-to-be-married mechanical engineer named Amar Amar, and a Palestinian-Lebanese-Danish lady who didn't have a Lebanese visa organized). We (minus the Dane) made it successfully, and I then took a bus immediately to Tripoli in the north of the country. There's been a fair amount of unrest there lately. I was surprised as well how much other war damage could be seen as I explored the city:
But I think Tripoli is beautiful.The next day, I took a bus to Bcharre with Swiss friend Michel, and from there we got a cab in order to see the Cedars Of Lebanon. I say "Cedars of Lebanon" in capitals because they've been symbolic of Lebanon and famous throughout the world since Biblical times (sample random verse from Psalms: The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars; yea, the Lord breaketh the cedars of Lebanon.) And apparently whatever was prophesied about the pride of Lebanon being cut like their cedars was true, because the cedar preserve we saw was pretty dismal. The trees are gorgeous, of course, but there aren't many of them around, and a lot of them are kind of hacked up. Well, at least they're preserved in picture on the Lebanese flag.....sigh.
Lots of soldiers around.
I went to Beirut later. I LOVE Beirut. This is the Place of the Martyrs.
And very nearby, I stumbled upon a gigantic tent. Turns out that inside said tent is buried Rafik Hariri, the former Lebanese Prime Minister who was assassinated in a huge explosion a couple years ago. Really really terrible.
I wandered around more and found some neighborhoods that were big Hezbollah strongholds. So many banners and pictures and paintings of leaders, of martyrs.
This is just one picture of many that displays one of Hezbollah's soldiers who died as a martyr.
Fast forward a day - I flew to Egypt. I will simply say that it was an incredibly frustrating and disappointing experience, as, when you fly Egypt Air, apparently you can't leave the care of the airline (which means if you want to go into Cairo, you go with an Egypt Air driver who takes 4 hours to arrive at the airport while you wait wait wait, and then gets you to the pyramids after they're already closed. Boo.)
Well, at least I saw them from the gate, anyways.
After Egypt, I returned to Yemen and saw a few friends in the wee hours of the morning, then flew to London and spent time with friends there as well, watching my first bit of the Olympics and eating some really excellent curry. On the plane home the next day, I wore my black balto and a hijab. I was curious how Americans would respond to it. Most people were perfectly normal, although one lady in line spoke to me really slowly and loudly as if I didn't speak English. I was most surprised, however, that when I went through immigration at LAX, the officer didn't even look through my passport - it was one of my quickest immigration experiences ever. Not that I had any desire to sit for a long interview, but I'm thinking someone should've asked a few more questions (especially considering some of the interesting things I had in my bags, like goat furs that technically should be reported to the Fish and Game dept, and Hezbollah posters). Hmm. Oh well.
From LA, I took a bus to Bakersfield to see family and pick up Mazdatron. I marveled the next morning at simple things like the availability of bacon. Other things I've realized since that were utterly lacking over the last 2.5 months: milk. microwaves. stop signs. I walk and drive like a reserved Yemeni, but I'm trying to readjust quickly.
I came back to my place in LA and found this in my shower (I love Kat):
As I unpacked my bags, I was able to share some of my delights with friends and roommates:
I love the Middle East. I really do. There remains so much more to understand and explore there, but the last 10ish weeks were phenomenal and full of adventure (such that I finally wore through the bottoms of my shoes).
I'm back in LA now, starting up the last year of my masters, but adventures will continue here, as well as better information to come on interesting issues in the Middle East. I am sure I will be going back soon.

Please note:

1. I did not get kidnapped. I did not get beheaded. I never had anyone curse me for being American.

2. After returning to LA and mentioning my work with Iraqis to someone, a remark was made about "sleeping with the enemy". Uh, yikes. No. Iraqis are not our enemy. The Iraqis I worked with were amazing. The situation for the refugees in Syria is heartbreaking.

3. If you look back, you'll note that I posted some pictures from a "friend's" trip somewhere near Jordan. The ambiguity was due to the possibility that Syria's secret police could have legitimately booted me from the country had they connected my name to a visit to Israel. Yes, I went to Jerusalem and the West Bank. Countries visited on this trip, if you're keeping tally: Yemen, Jordan, Israel/Palestine/West Bank/Golan Heights, Syria, Lebanon, Egypt, England.

4. How does it feel to be back? Weird, in a word. I bought a lot of hummus today. We'll see how the transitioning goes.

Ma salaama, rafi'i.