Awe

Annapurna. A sanctuary in every sense. Twelve of the richest days of my life spent walking in the mighty Himalayas with Nepali women whose spirits were bigger than the peaks. Getting reacquainted with electricity and motorized vehicles today. Stories and a few photo albums to come soon.

Sending the love. 

Annapurna with the Sisters

I am setting out for a two week trek in Nepal tomorrow with Three Sisters Trekking -- the only women owned, guided and portered outfitter in the Everest region. This mountain gal couldn't BE more excited to get a feel for the Himalayas -- to spend days walking in her folds and getting a feel for the biggest hills in the world. I'll be doing the Annapurna Sanctuary trek...through rhododendron forests, hot springs and up to the base camp of the big beauty. 

Heads up that I'll be away from blogging, email, Facebook and all the online connectivity jazz through March 29th. Will be sure to share the adventure when I return. 

Yeeeee haw and yippppeeee!

Life at Kruger

Twelve hour layover in Delhi was the perfect opportunity to compile some footage from this South African wonderland. This was shot at Kruger National Park in northeast South Africa back in January. Feels like ages ago...

The music is by Agape Children's Choir, from the movie "We Are Together" - brilliant story.

Peace in Cyprus

Spent the past week relaxing with an old friend, Megan Chawansky....eating juicy pomegranates and oranges and enjoying the splendor of Cyprus. 

Cyprus is a small island in the Mediterranean Sea between Israel and Turkey. The north is controlled and culturally influenced by Turkey and the South by Greece. Fascinating clash of cultures, history and study in peace and unification (or lack thereof). Megan is here working as a Program Manager for Peace Players International -- a group that uses basketball to teach youth lessons of peace in the major conflict hotspots of the World. In addition to her work, she is playing semi-professional basketball for a "Achilleas" - a Cypriot club. Got to watch the old bird in action and even practice with her team (I wore someone else's sweatpant shorts - H.O.T.!)

Tanks for sharing your days and love, MC. 

All interested parties...Have a peek at the highlights.

Heading thru Israel, Austria and India on my way to Nepal next. Five flights and two nights in a row sleeping in the airport should have me feeling fresh as a daisy upon arrival...

Tourist or Terrorist

I admit - I was a hot mess getting to the Ben Gurion Airport. I got lost returning the rental car, and had trouble finding a gas station. Apparently, "they" say you should leave yourself no less than 3 hours in Tel Aviv. Well, I didn't have a chance to talk to "they." I was working with less than an hour and a half.

Picture it:
Sweating, frantic SJM goes racing into potentially the most highly secured airport in the World. Baggage trolley on two wheels, screeching around corners. Instantly surrounded by security guards. Somehow, my quick utterance of "I am a tourist" must have been misunderstood as "I am a terrorist." My passport and laptop are confiscated.

I am interrogated at length by a posse of six guards about why I am in Israel, why I have so many stamps on my passport, why I have only been in the country for a day, what I do for a job, why i am going to Cyprus. Most of the questioning revolved around my visit to Morocco.

A burly woman shuffles me over to the baggage inspection station, where she proceeds to take EVERYTHING out of my carefully and tightly packed backpack and wipe it with a piece of special toilet paper. She does not seem alarmed by the smell of my shoes or the Leatherman. She is quite concerned about why I have a stuff sack full of electronic equipment....an audio recorder and a tin waterbottle wrapped in duct tape. My underwear falls to the ground. I pick them up and wonder if there is another flight to Cyprus later in the day.

Burly gal briskly motions me to follow her for the "metal check." We leave the general terminal and go down a long hallway...into a private room filled with sensor devices and machines that look like they could give you an MRI. Looking over my shoulder to the left and right as she locks the door behind me. Suffice it to say, that this phase of the security screening ended with my pants around my ankles and my chin buried in my neck after a hearty pat down.

Fear not, Americans...this story has a happy ending. I get the passport and laptop back. Backpack and pants are zipped up tightly. Burly woman calls her friend, Tough Gal Airport Golf Cart Driver. I get an LJ VIP ride to my gate. Psyched on life that I am going to make the flight. The three of us pass by all the other LJs in the airport -- waving at the short-haired lady selling cell phones....laughing at the surprising speed of the cart. All that was missing was a radio with some Beyonce blaring out the speakers....

Lesson learned: Ununciate the "ou" in tourist and always travel with clean undies.

Shalom, Tel Aviv

It would discredit all other things I ever say in this blog to preface any of this by saying Israel is underrated. After all, it is the most sought after parcel of land on the planet. But as a non-Jewish American, my view of Israel was shaped primarily by media accounts of car bombings and a constantly rising death toll on account of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict.

No one told me that Tel Aviv is a vibrant, creative, cosmopolitan city, perched on a gorgeous stretch of the Mediterraenan Sea. It's full of liberal-minded, kibbutz-loving folk who eat killer hummus. There are dogs running freely on surfable beaches and bike paths that go for miles. I was in Israel for all of a day and a half and adored it, fully. Here are some pictures.

Meeting Nicole Matsuka

The main reason I went to Casablanca was to meet Nicole. She has been living in various cities in Morocco for two and a half years -- first studying abroad, then on a Fulbright and now working for a national sport development organization. She has focused primarily on the grassroots growth of girls'/women's football (read: soccer).

I spent the day sponging knowledge from her about all aspects of trying to help cultivate women's sports in a society that traditionally resists females displaying strength, leadership and muscle. We spent hours talking about funding, networking, moving past the challenges, incorporating new media in this effort.

Nicole's work has not been easy. She has had to roll up her sleeves to get grants, organize events, solicit community support to give girls' an opportunity to play. Progress IS being made. Morocco now has a national team and regional leagues. Nicole was able to get funding to take four girls to the United States last summer to attend Julie Foudy's Leadership Camp. Each of the girls received a small sum of money to come back to Morocco to start a girls' sports project herself.

Read Nicole's entry on "Players on a Masculine Stage" at the Global Game blog
Take a look at her brilliant images of women's football in Morocco
*photo above is part of her collection of photos

Grateful and inspired.

Complex Casa

One day is not nearly enough time to wrap your mind around the complexity of this culture. Here is some of what I saw today....

...and above, click on the play button to listen to the call to prayer that echos over the city five times a day. One of my favorite parts of visiting Muslim countries....so peaceful and assuring....

Brother, please...

I have heard cautionary tales from a handful of women who have traveled in Morocco. Men are aggressive. Women can't go out at night alone. Prepare for the badgering, even if you're head is covered -- but especially if it is not. Lonely Planet suggests "looking busy -- like you know where you are going."

I would keep and open mind and judge gender relations in Morocco for myself. I have an aversion to the popularized American-style fear....

Got off the plane after more than 30 hours in transit. So tired. Pouring rain. Hop in a taxi. The guy speaks French....which will work...certainly much better than Arabic. We seem to be doing OK. He knows the hotel I am looking for...."Il pleut" (it's raining)...weather....small talk....tourism highlights of the city.

As is often the case on this trip, he asks me if I have a husband. I wonder which way to answer this time. Go with no. He persists. I give in and untruthfully say I have a boyfriend -- hoping to end the conversation. It all starts getting a little dicey as I try to explain why my "petit ami" (boyfriend) isn't with me on this trip to Morocco (he was working, of course). My broken French, which has not been used for a solid decade, is doing little to deter the disintegration of the conversation. Before I know it, 54 year old man is suggesting I sleep with him at his house, instead of the hotel. Said his wife would not be mad. He roars with laughter and just keeps tapping me on the knee.

"Mon Dieu," I say (My God)
"Vous Etes TROP vieux" (you are TOO old)
[odd logic here, but it was all I had in my vocab at the moment]
"Et, j'ai un petit ami" (and i have a boyfriend)
"Non! Allez-y a l'hotel, si vous plait" (No. Let's go to the hotel, please)

Conversation over. Turn up radio. Windshield wipers stagger awkwardly. Old Mercedes taxi steams up uncomfortably. Nervous tap of foot. Hope this is the exit to the hotel and not his place.

Turns out he took me right to the front door of the Hotel Central and sent me off with a "Bon Soir," as if it was just another normal ride for him.

Still going to try to keep an open mind....but might be a little harder with a start like that....

Explaining the Hiatus

Took a little T.O. this past week from the adventure train. Couldn't tell y'all about it ahead of time-- as I was surprising my sister, Mar, at her baby shower in Maine. She is due to birth some new life onto this Earth on May 29th - our Mom's birthday. It is no myth -- pregnant women beam with something otherworldly. She is so bright and full of motherness. Glorious to see her in that state.

Had an amazing time being back in the States. I was ripe for a little break from the anonymity of traveling alone. Got off the plane in New York and actually felt like I was home. Mind you, I traveled to that big, burly city every other month for ten years and NEVER felt anything remotely similar. And being in front of the woodstove in Maine...with Mom's lasagna in the oven...and Nanny Alice sharing old stories from the classroom. Golden.

Not easy to hop back on a plane at JFK today for so many reasons. Doesn't take a trip around the world to make me appreciate all the beauty I am blessed with in my life at this moment in time -- but sure lends some important perspective.

Next stop: Morocco to hang with Nicole Matsuka -- former Fulbright Scholar who is doing roll-your-sleeves-up grassroots work with girls and women in sports.