When I left Kabul in March 2008, there remained four more things I wanted to do there: come in through the Khyber Pass, spend time in the countryside, visit the Minaret of Djam and work for a month or two in Afghanistan. I achieved half of the goals this August: countryside and Djam. Plus, the excitement of being around during election time.
I traveled for three weeks: Kabul, Mazar-i-Sharif, Bamiyan, Herat and “the places in between.” The route started from Kabul, through the spectacular Salang Pass - the tunnels reminiscent of ones in Georgia, also built by the Russians - to Mazar; then back down to just short of the Pass where it was a back country road to Bamiyan, where once the huge Buddhist statues stood until the Taliban took them out in the name of Islam.
From there to Afghanistan’s newly established national park at the scenic Band-i-Amir lakes. Then across the mountainous Central route to Herat, with a stop at the Minaret of Djam, the magnificent remains of the an ancient civilization, hidden in a valley at the end of a nearly non existent road? trail? path? The route walked by Rory Stewart a few years back and now reportedly too dicey for Western travel. I don’t know if that’s because of Security concerns, bad roads and/or lack of acceptable accommodation. Or all of the above.
Rather than follow the Northern route from Herat to Mazar-i-Sharif and then back to Kabul as planned, the return was on a Herat-Kabul flight so more time could be spent in these two cities, both targets of the Taliban set on invalidating any elections. There were threats, bombings and shootings in both Herat and Kabul who were under close security just before and on election day.
I traveled with three others plus our tour leader who arranged the trip - same person who had set up the Iraqi tour. He was familiar with the territory, having traveled in the area since the hippy days of the seventies. Cross country travel was by mini bus - four cylinder, 4 wheel drive vehicles that took the terrain in stride - into, onto and over rocks, streams, river beds, cow/sheep trails and dirt roads with a bit off off-road driving. Other than in the cities and Bamiyan, we stayed in Chaikhanas (teahouses), all in one room with sleeping bags on the floor. Facilities, when available, were on a par with those in China’s old Hutongs. Otherwise, it was back of a wall. Several Chaikhanas did not welcome Westerners so we took pot luck.
The highlight for me was getting to the Minaret of Djam, Afghanistan's first World Heritage site. After taking photos, I just sat and reveled in the aura surrounding the place. Our two guys skinny dipped in the adjacent river, the rest simply walked about the area. The police stationed there to discourage visitors from stealing artifacts, fixed tea for us before we left.
I did appreciate the opportunities to talk with local Afghans. One time, while at a Sufi Shrine, we shared tea and cakes with a group of young people. Later, at another Sufi temple, the Imam, his brother and his nephew prepared tea for us. Most people seemed friendly, though in the villages, very curious about the strange foreigners, The police, most concerned about our wanderings, stopped and questioned us at various chec k points. We were briefly detained though offered tea, In Chisht, when we were quite close to the end of the journey to Herat. After a night in Obeh at the Hilton of Chaikhanas (indoor plumbing and water), a relay of armed guards then accompanied us to our Herat hotel.
The closer to the election, the tighter the Security. Initially, Kabul seemed to have less police and Army visible than when I was there earlier. But the divisive cement walls and barriers, a la Baghdad, were being installed. Whatever charm Kabul had - and it isn’t much at best - was lost in the translation. However, by the time we returned,to Kabul, a day before the election, Security was ever present. The airport was closed for several hours following a shoot out with the Tallies at a local bank. Several days later when I left, things were more normal. But walking around Kabul election day with everything shut down and little traffic other than police and Army, reminded me of Neville Shute’s “On the Beach”.
Remembered: Heat and Dust, though no Julie Christie. The striking tiles on the Mosque at Mazar-i-Sharif. The de miners and European Union representative at Shahr-e-Zohak citadel near Bamiyan. The dedicated South African with Wildlife Conservation working with local Afghans in developing the park at Band--i-Amir. The nomad camps lining the way into Djam. The Citadel at Herat where the guide, a guard with a Kalashnikov in his right hand and a cast on his left arm, took two of us into every nook and cranny of the in-process restoration. The drone taking off at Herat's airport. The cheerfully optimistic rug dealers who were sure one of us would buy that extra special rug - and sure enough, three guys succumbed. Kabul’s now totally blocked off and unviewable Bella Hassar. The crowded, noisy and colorful bazaars of Herat and Kabul. The freelancers at the no-star Mustafa Hotel vs the expense account set at the 5-star Serena Hotel. Istalif the pottery village developed by Turquoise Foundation, with few customers and closed shops. The Panjshir Valley with Massoud’s mausoleum becoming a building site as his admirers continue to “improve” it. The Shah M Bookstore where I bought George MacDonald Fraser’s Flashman Papers, covering the First Afghan War.
Accommodations: Ranged from Chaikhanas to basic Afghan hotels to the yurt in Bamiyan, with nary a Westerner in sight.
Water: I had purchased and packed a water purifier. Didn't need it for bottled water was readily available. Also Rani, a wonderful fruit drink from the Emirates.
Food: Nam and tea were standard breakfast with sometimes eggs and jam. Lots of Kabobs and rice. Two trips to the Serena found me happily chomping away at their luncheon buffet at $30 per person. In Herat, ate at two newer and nicer hotels, patronized by Westerners, for around $20 for the evening meal. A final night in Kabul took us to Sufi 2 on Moslem street: good Afghan food and great Afghan music; packed with Westerners.
Costs: Hinterland Travel charged £1980 for the tour which accounted for a 10% discount for early booking. Only breakfast was included. I also paid approximately $100 for add-on excursions. Airfare on Emirates, San Francisco-Dubai, was $1583.09 plus Kam Air Dubai-Kabul $430; (Despite some reports, Kam Air does not use aging Aeroflots but Lockheed and McDonnell-Douglas aircraft.)
N.B. Keep tuned for there is a good chance I’ll be returning to complete the other two parts of the pinochle, Khyber Pass and short term work in Kabul. For the moment, I’m off to the UK in September for a conference at Oxford and play time in London.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Wanted: Tourists for Iraq and Afghanistan!
You really can’t blame them for trying. Poor countries. The Dollar and the Pound and the Euro look good. Are good for their economy.
Both Iraqi and Afghan government tourist pooh-bahs is are encouraging travel in their countries, regardless of ongoing conflicts. Granted, eight of us got through Iraq in March 2009, the first Western travelers since 2003. And it’s gone to their heads - more tours are planned with both British and, believe it or not, Taiwanese tour operators.
Admittedly, the Iraqi’s State Ministry for Tourism and Antiquities have been encouraging travel into the country irrespective of bombings and blastings, but it’s been the Iranian Shias, who honor the sacred shrines in Karbala and Najaf. But there is a difference between managing the religious pilgrim and the Western tourist. Martyrdom is not part of our lexicon. Our expectation to to arrive, see some of the country and its people and then, survive - leaving in one piece.
And that did happen with us. But there was little help from the Ministry in providing opportunities to visit significant sites, ones not problematic security-wise: eg: despite several opportunities, our group was not allowed in the newly opened Museum in Baghdad. And we had to fight to get into Ur, located between two military bases.
Originally, we were to have two Security people,then a carload of guys, then nada! Nada was better for our mini van wasn’t that conspicuous - except when local authorities gave us front and back protection with sirens going full blast.
I must admit the Iraqi took every opportunity to publicize tour travel: media at Babylon, media in our bus, media at the Baghdad hotel: they loved idea of tourism but really didn’t know or want to know how to deal with the reality. The best reception our group had was at Basra with several local Tourist representatives who escorted us throughout that area. What the National Ministry coulda, shoulda and didn’t do.
Now Afghanistan: Several months after I’d returned from Kabul in March 2008, there was an article in the SF Chronicle, heralding the opening of a national park at the Band-i-Amir lakes in Bamiyan province. Apparently, the Aga Khan Foundation is creating an ecotourism project in the area. In June 2009, there was a formal dedication of the park, per CNN. This is in the province where the Buddhist statutes were blown up in Taliban days.
Reportedly, it’s a three hour drive on rocky roads in a 4x4 so getting that should be an adventure in itself.
And there is also word someone is building a five star hotel in Kabul!
I’ll find out for I’m returning in August - which will be hot. dry and dusty! While I’ll return to Kabul briefly, I will be traveling on the old caravan routes to Herat, Mazar-i-Sherif, the Minaret of Djam, as well as Bamiyan province. I suspect I’ll see little of the Ministry of Culture’s minions and the media, but given my Iraqi experience, that will be for the best. Wandering around these fragmented countries, one needs to be as close to the ground as possible.
Surprisingly, there are five organizations booking travel in Afghanistan: two local, one Canadian and two British. All in the north; no one other than military should head down south. Kandahar and the Helmand province are way beyond dicey and no place for civilians. And the Afghan-Pakistan border is another hot spot. But north and central parts of the country have been relatively safe.
So I will have the opportunity to compare - and contrast - these two countries who want to be included on the world’s travel calendar.
(Other countries on my list to visit: North Korea, which which does not encourage visitors; Libya who is still mad at GW and won’t give US citizens visas, and Cuba, which welcomes tourists but it is the the US government which restricts access.. In fact, peaceful and stable Cuba is the only country where the US forbids US travel. Go figure!)
Both Iraqi and Afghan government tourist pooh-bahs is are encouraging travel in their countries, regardless of ongoing conflicts. Granted, eight of us got through Iraq in March 2009, the first Western travelers since 2003. And it’s gone to their heads - more tours are planned with both British and, believe it or not, Taiwanese tour operators.
Admittedly, the Iraqi’s State Ministry for Tourism and Antiquities have been encouraging travel into the country irrespective of bombings and blastings, but it’s been the Iranian Shias, who honor the sacred shrines in Karbala and Najaf. But there is a difference between managing the religious pilgrim and the Western tourist. Martyrdom is not part of our lexicon. Our expectation to to arrive, see some of the country and its people and then, survive - leaving in one piece.
And that did happen with us. But there was little help from the Ministry in providing opportunities to visit significant sites, ones not problematic security-wise: eg: despite several opportunities, our group was not allowed in the newly opened Museum in Baghdad. And we had to fight to get into Ur, located between two military bases.
Originally, we were to have two Security people,then a carload of guys, then nada! Nada was better for our mini van wasn’t that conspicuous - except when local authorities gave us front and back protection with sirens going full blast.
I must admit the Iraqi took every opportunity to publicize tour travel: media at Babylon, media in our bus, media at the Baghdad hotel: they loved idea of tourism but really didn’t know or want to know how to deal with the reality. The best reception our group had was at Basra with several local Tourist representatives who escorted us throughout that area. What the National Ministry coulda, shoulda and didn’t do.
Now Afghanistan: Several months after I’d returned from Kabul in March 2008, there was an article in the SF Chronicle, heralding the opening of a national park at the Band-i-Amir lakes in Bamiyan province. Apparently, the Aga Khan Foundation is creating an ecotourism project in the area. In June 2009, there was a formal dedication of the park, per CNN. This is in the province where the Buddhist statutes were blown up in Taliban days.
Reportedly, it’s a three hour drive on rocky roads in a 4x4 so getting that should be an adventure in itself.
And there is also word someone is building a five star hotel in Kabul!
I’ll find out for I’m returning in August - which will be hot. dry and dusty! While I’ll return to Kabul briefly, I will be traveling on the old caravan routes to Herat, Mazar-i-Sherif, the Minaret of Djam, as well as Bamiyan province. I suspect I’ll see little of the Ministry of Culture’s minions and the media, but given my Iraqi experience, that will be for the best. Wandering around these fragmented countries, one needs to be as close to the ground as possible.
Surprisingly, there are five organizations booking travel in Afghanistan: two local, one Canadian and two British. All in the north; no one other than military should head down south. Kandahar and the Helmand province are way beyond dicey and no place for civilians. And the Afghan-Pakistan border is another hot spot. But north and central parts of the country have been relatively safe.
So I will have the opportunity to compare - and contrast - these two countries who want to be included on the world’s travel calendar.
(Other countries on my list to visit: North Korea, which which does not encourage visitors; Libya who is still mad at GW and won’t give US citizens visas, and Cuba, which welcomes tourists but it is the the US government which restricts access.. In fact, peaceful and stable Cuba is the only country where the US forbids US travel. Go figure!)
Friday, June 19, 2009
The June Journey: 2009
The yearly Oregon-Washington Trip
It’s been a lazy spring-summer so far, with my only traveling occurring earlier this month: the yearly trip to the Ashland, Oregon, Shakespeare Festival - done that since the mid-l950s - and then, onto Washington where I visited my husband’s family - done that since he died five years ago.
Should start with Ashland, a pretty town with well kept old time frame homes built during the 1800s and a park, Lithia Park, that is one of the most superb patches of greenery I’ve seen wherever. I stay downtown at the Columbia Hotel, upstairs above the various retail shops, a place with a Victorian motif throughout. Some rooms have facilities but I stay in the back with toilet and shower down the hall. You just try to avoid the sunny side for one will sizzle and fry on a hot day, despite window and ceiling fans. Even in the high season, it’s reasonablly priced.
I fly in to Medford and take the shuttle into Ashland. In past years, I have driven up but it is a long, tiring journey. I did take the bus one year when the bus still stopped on the outskirts of Ashland and I may try the train next year: Bay area to Sacramento or Grants Pass with a shuttle from there. Anyway, Ashland and the plays were fine; the only problem was finding a workable computer. The library PCs didn’t like AOL (or vice versa) and the coffee shop’s IMac also was a bit taken back by AOL. So the cell phone got some use.
There was an ongoing crisis - isn’t there always with families? My sister-in-law’s oldest daughter was seriously ill, in and out of the hospital, so there was some question whether I should go on to Washington. Turned out I did and it worked out, particularly as I left a day early (which cost but was worth it!). Concurrently, my nephew, who I had hoped to see, was down in Southern California, cleaning out his recently deceased mother’s place. So what had seemed like a good plan in April was a bit of a disaster, come June.
The plays were good: Henry VIII and All's Well were in the outdoor theatre where, even with three layers, I had a hard time staying toasty. It always is warm during the day and cold at night. Both plays were well performed. Music Man was the musical and I had a hard time erasing Robert Preston from my mind as I saw this very professional production. Nice choreography! Dead Man’s Cell Phone was sold out when I ordered tickets in “April and was still sold out when I went to the Box office on arrival. So I sat out front until someone came up with a spare to sell - and at face price. The play was a commentary on cell phones and relationships: a bit crazy but enjoyable.
The two I liked best were Equivocation, woven around Shakespeare and the Gunpowder Plot, and Servant of Two Masters, an outrageous Italian commedia dell’arte piece. Both were well directed and very sharply performed. If I hadn’t gotten into the Cell Phone, I was going to try for River Rafting - ah, next year!
I enjoyed the Washington visit with my sister-in-law and her family but three days was enough for all of us, especially since I wasn’t going to have a day with my nephew. Got to Pike’s Market in Seattle which I always enjoy. My sister-in-law’s youngest daughter, with whom I am very close, is a professional editor. I had a screen script with me I had been asked to critique so we spent sometime with that.
I stay at a Days Inn in Kent, walking distance to family, which gives them and me some independence. It was a day with each of various family members, all enjoyable. And the Days Inn has a shuttle to the airport so there is no inconvenience to anyone. Just hope all our various crises are down to a dull roar next year.
Since my return, I was googling to get information regarding the author of the screen play (he’s on Facebook) and ended up googling my name: I found that a gracious writer, Julia Ross, named me as one of Twelve Inspirational Women Travelers on WorldHum.com. I’m keeping company with Martha Gellhorn, Julia Childs and Gertrude Bell among others. And I was really impressed that she liked my writing! Thank you Julia! (And thank you, Warren Price, my old J School Prof, wherever you are!)
It’s been a lazy spring-summer so far, with my only traveling occurring earlier this month: the yearly trip to the Ashland, Oregon, Shakespeare Festival - done that since the mid-l950s - and then, onto Washington where I visited my husband’s family - done that since he died five years ago.
Should start with Ashland, a pretty town with well kept old time frame homes built during the 1800s and a park, Lithia Park, that is one of the most superb patches of greenery I’ve seen wherever. I stay downtown at the Columbia Hotel, upstairs above the various retail shops, a place with a Victorian motif throughout. Some rooms have facilities but I stay in the back with toilet and shower down the hall. You just try to avoid the sunny side for one will sizzle and fry on a hot day, despite window and ceiling fans. Even in the high season, it’s reasonablly priced.
I fly in to Medford and take the shuttle into Ashland. In past years, I have driven up but it is a long, tiring journey. I did take the bus one year when the bus still stopped on the outskirts of Ashland and I may try the train next year: Bay area to Sacramento or Grants Pass with a shuttle from there. Anyway, Ashland and the plays were fine; the only problem was finding a workable computer. The library PCs didn’t like AOL (or vice versa) and the coffee shop’s IMac also was a bit taken back by AOL. So the cell phone got some use.
There was an ongoing crisis - isn’t there always with families? My sister-in-law’s oldest daughter was seriously ill, in and out of the hospital, so there was some question whether I should go on to Washington. Turned out I did and it worked out, particularly as I left a day early (which cost but was worth it!). Concurrently, my nephew, who I had hoped to see, was down in Southern California, cleaning out his recently deceased mother’s place. So what had seemed like a good plan in April was a bit of a disaster, come June.
The plays were good: Henry VIII and All's Well were in the outdoor theatre where, even with three layers, I had a hard time staying toasty. It always is warm during the day and cold at night. Both plays were well performed. Music Man was the musical and I had a hard time erasing Robert Preston from my mind as I saw this very professional production. Nice choreography! Dead Man’s Cell Phone was sold out when I ordered tickets in “April and was still sold out when I went to the Box office on arrival. So I sat out front until someone came up with a spare to sell - and at face price. The play was a commentary on cell phones and relationships: a bit crazy but enjoyable.
The two I liked best were Equivocation, woven around Shakespeare and the Gunpowder Plot, and Servant of Two Masters, an outrageous Italian commedia dell’arte piece. Both were well directed and very sharply performed. If I hadn’t gotten into the Cell Phone, I was going to try for River Rafting - ah, next year!
I enjoyed the Washington visit with my sister-in-law and her family but three days was enough for all of us, especially since I wasn’t going to have a day with my nephew. Got to Pike’s Market in Seattle which I always enjoy. My sister-in-law’s youngest daughter, with whom I am very close, is a professional editor. I had a screen script with me I had been asked to critique so we spent sometime with that.
I stay at a Days Inn in Kent, walking distance to family, which gives them and me some independence. It was a day with each of various family members, all enjoyable. And the Days Inn has a shuttle to the airport so there is no inconvenience to anyone. Just hope all our various crises are down to a dull roar next year.
Since my return, I was googling to get information regarding the author of the screen play (he’s on Facebook) and ended up googling my name: I found that a gracious writer, Julia Ross, named me as one of Twelve Inspirational Women Travelers on WorldHum.com. I’m keeping company with Martha Gellhorn, Julia Childs and Gertrude Bell among others. And I was really impressed that she liked my writing! Thank you Julia! (And thank you, Warren Price, my old J School Prof, wherever you are!)
Monday, June 1, 2009
April-August 2009: At Home
For over two months, I’ve been at home. Not traveling, little writing. Reading. Some worthwhile things like working on Robert Fisk’s tome on the Middle East and Dalrymple’s work on the Indian Mughals and some fun stuff, like Jack Higgens’ and Gordon Kent’s adventure writings. Recently, I discovered Dan Fesperson, a worthy equal to John LeCarré and Frederick Forsyth. It was one of his books that was out on the local library’s display table that I casually picked up and checked out.
Most interesting, he writes very human stories that are, incidentally spy/adventure tales, with locales familiar to me: Sarajevo, Berlin, Peshawar, Amman. Amman less so for basically, I’ve been in town only for flights in and out. But I have been in Jordan several times - going back in November for another shot at the GARP archaeological dig along the Hejaz. But his descriptions of Amman provide an excellent guide. And with luck and a second passport, I’ll have time in Amman enroute to Israel and Palestine in December. (Second passport is necessary for any indication of an Israeli visa/entry stamp precludes admittance to Mid Eastern/Muslim countries, excepting Egypt and Jordan).
Anyway, I have become hooked on his novels and have several more recent ones to track down. Like several good writers, he’s a journalist. Journalists - and I was a wanna be - tend to be very observant of details of both the physical and the personal. They use language respectfully as it is the tool of their trade. So these skills serve them well when they move onto to fiction, particularly if it is a combination of reportage and imagination, as in Fesperson’s books.
In my early days, I was a J school student who also enrolled in Short Story classes. I could report but didn’t have the imagination to make it as a fiction writer. As it turned out, for over thirty years, I wrote reports for Courts’ use in sentencing criminal offenders. Often, I tried to find a word or phrase out of the ordinary that might catch someone’s attention; I never knew if I succeeded as there wasn’t a response.
But unlike most of my coworkers,who viewed report writing on the same level as having a root canal, the writing for me was the fun part of the job. Interviewing, yes, but then trying to put a thumb nail sketch of the offender and the crime on paper, particularly within the confines of an imposed outline was a challenge.
And then I got to tag around after him/her, assuming they were not incarcerated, for several years and fine out how right or wrong I was in my assessment It was fun while it lasted, And I have missed the writing, which is one of the reasons for the blog. The other is, to keep track of myself.
For two years ago I was in the Swat Valley, today part of the turf battle between the Pakis and the Taliban. I remember it as beautiful, peaceful place. I looked up my notes: there was a bad road (oh, I remember that, one of the worst!), I ate at Charsadda and stayed overnight at the Rock Resort Hotel. I walked among Buddhist ruins and was impressed by a lovely carved Stupa. I fear all that’s left is the bad road. I see news shots of the area, the distruction in Mingora, the refugees!. A sadness! Man’s worst enemy is man, someone said, and at the rate we’re going, we are going to knock ourselves off before another century.
Come August, I’m back to Afghanistan, this time in the countryside. Up north to Mazur-e-Sharif, over to Herat and Banyan and then through the central part and the Minaret of Djam. Maybe, coming in through the Khyber Pass, depending on safety issues. There are three alternate itineraries. I’m excited about returning to the Land of the Great Game and the unbelievable Himalayans. They are at one end of my spectrum with the desert at the other. People who have conquered either are high on my list of heroes: Ran Fiennes (who also has the two Poles under his belt in addition to Everest) and Michael Asher (ex-Para, SAS and author who has lived in the deserts of Africa). In fact, in October, I will spend my birthday on a camel trek led by Asher - a real high point for me despite a probable sore butt.
In the meantime, I mark time at home: setting up future travels, doing household stuff, taking ballet and doing Pilates, tutoring a foreign speaker and reading. The four months I’ve been home this spring/summer is the longest I’ve been around in five years - the cat appreciates it. Though I am fudging a bit by taking off a week this month for the Shakespeare Festival in Ashland, Oregon and then, several days with family in the Seattle area.
The late summer and fall will have me on the run, between Asia and Africa and the Middle East, with ten days in the UK stuffed in there some place. At one point, I think I’m home little over a week in between trips. But this is the life I’ve chosen, once I left my day job: travel as much as you possibly can!
Most interesting, he writes very human stories that are, incidentally spy/adventure tales, with locales familiar to me: Sarajevo, Berlin, Peshawar, Amman. Amman less so for basically, I’ve been in town only for flights in and out. But I have been in Jordan several times - going back in November for another shot at the GARP archaeological dig along the Hejaz. But his descriptions of Amman provide an excellent guide. And with luck and a second passport, I’ll have time in Amman enroute to Israel and Palestine in December. (Second passport is necessary for any indication of an Israeli visa/entry stamp precludes admittance to Mid Eastern/Muslim countries, excepting Egypt and Jordan).
Anyway, I have become hooked on his novels and have several more recent ones to track down. Like several good writers, he’s a journalist. Journalists - and I was a wanna be - tend to be very observant of details of both the physical and the personal. They use language respectfully as it is the tool of their trade. So these skills serve them well when they move onto to fiction, particularly if it is a combination of reportage and imagination, as in Fesperson’s books.
In my early days, I was a J school student who also enrolled in Short Story classes. I could report but didn’t have the imagination to make it as a fiction writer. As it turned out, for over thirty years, I wrote reports for Courts’ use in sentencing criminal offenders. Often, I tried to find a word or phrase out of the ordinary that might catch someone’s attention; I never knew if I succeeded as there wasn’t a response.
But unlike most of my coworkers,who viewed report writing on the same level as having a root canal, the writing for me was the fun part of the job. Interviewing, yes, but then trying to put a thumb nail sketch of the offender and the crime on paper, particularly within the confines of an imposed outline was a challenge.
And then I got to tag around after him/her, assuming they were not incarcerated, for several years and fine out how right or wrong I was in my assessment It was fun while it lasted, And I have missed the writing, which is one of the reasons for the blog. The other is, to keep track of myself.
For two years ago I was in the Swat Valley, today part of the turf battle between the Pakis and the Taliban. I remember it as beautiful, peaceful place. I looked up my notes: there was a bad road (oh, I remember that, one of the worst!), I ate at Charsadda and stayed overnight at the Rock Resort Hotel. I walked among Buddhist ruins and was impressed by a lovely carved Stupa. I fear all that’s left is the bad road. I see news shots of the area, the distruction in Mingora, the refugees!. A sadness! Man’s worst enemy is man, someone said, and at the rate we’re going, we are going to knock ourselves off before another century.
Come August, I’m back to Afghanistan, this time in the countryside. Up north to Mazur-e-Sharif, over to Herat and Banyan and then through the central part and the Minaret of Djam. Maybe, coming in through the Khyber Pass, depending on safety issues. There are three alternate itineraries. I’m excited about returning to the Land of the Great Game and the unbelievable Himalayans. They are at one end of my spectrum with the desert at the other. People who have conquered either are high on my list of heroes: Ran Fiennes (who also has the two Poles under his belt in addition to Everest) and Michael Asher (ex-Para, SAS and author who has lived in the deserts of Africa). In fact, in October, I will spend my birthday on a camel trek led by Asher - a real high point for me despite a probable sore butt.
In the meantime, I mark time at home: setting up future travels, doing household stuff, taking ballet and doing Pilates, tutoring a foreign speaker and reading. The four months I’ve been home this spring/summer is the longest I’ve been around in five years - the cat appreciates it. Though I am fudging a bit by taking off a week this month for the Shakespeare Festival in Ashland, Oregon and then, several days with family in the Seattle area.
The late summer and fall will have me on the run, between Asia and Africa and the Middle East, with ten days in the UK stuffed in there some place. At one point, I think I’m home little over a week in between trips. But this is the life I’ve chosen, once I left my day job: travel as much as you possibly can!
Friday, March 27, 2009
First Iraqi Tour since 2003!
Iraq March 2009
Eight of us were on the Iraqi tour: five Brits (one of whom was a Russian with three passports), a Canadian and two Americans. Ages: 36 to 79. All had traveled extensively, Only one had not been to Afghanistan. For over two weeks of March 2009, we traveled from Kurdish Iraq to the Marsh area.
The trip was organized by Geoff Hann who operates Hinterland Travels and who was the leader of the band. Three of the group had traveled with him before. This was the first authorized civilian traveling group since 2003. The scheduling was unpredictable as the present Ministry of Tourism had little experience in managing more than the Iranian pilgrimages to Kerbala.
For example: we were to have two security guards. Then it was none or Twenty. We chose none, which I felt was safer than even two traveling with us. There was a small bus, driver and interpreter (who saw himself as in charge despite the fact he had never been to most of the places). Occasionally, we picked up police cars, front and back, at times with sirens roaring and lights flashing but most of the time, we were left alone.
And I do mean left: left sitting at checkpoints while police and militias decided what to do with us. Not safe for us. Sometimes, they would drive us to the next check point, heave a sign of relief and a wave as they returned to their post and left the problem with the next bunch. Sometimes, they just let us go.
Forty checkpoints between Basra and Baghdad. Unknown number of speed bumps. No one travels fast in Iraq.
Baghdad: We stayed on three occasions at the old Sheraton, outside the Green Zone but inside security walls; across from where Saddam’s statue was toppled. It was comfortable but not well maintained. There were variety of security people with green, gray, blue, and tan based camouflage uniforms but, all with Kalisnikovs, the weapon of choice in the Middle East.
Ugandans, male and female, handled the Green Zone checkpoints, all four of them. Two pieces of picture identification required. Thorough search - I know, I worked in a prison at one time in my life.
Traffic ranged from tanks to donkey carts. There were concrete walls lining the main thorough fares and concrete blocks necessitating a zigzag approach to enter most streets. A besieged city still, for car bombs and shooting still occur.
We did get to the Kahidmain mosque but never did make it to the nearly opened Museum - which wasn’t open during any of the stays in Baghdad. I was told by the press there wasn’t that much in it; some of them had also gotten a run-around. We did visit an Anglican Church. During the last stay in Baghdad, we returned to the Green Zone and saw the Crossed Swords and then finished up with the Arc of Ctesiphan, an awesome structure in an area guarded by the Sons of Iraq, ex AlQaeda lads.
The North: While there was a fair amount of security around and we were refused admission to Nimrod, things seemed calmer in the Kurdish controlled area. Enroute to Erbil, police escorted us to magnificent Minaret and Mosque (in process of repair) at Samarra. Impressive even though the Minaret was in a Railway yard with barbed wire rolled in front of it.
We drove past Kirkuk, reportedly a bit dicey and not the place for our driver to get lost - but he did. He couldn’t read the Kurdish road signs so he had to ask the locals. Signs are Kurdish/English - no Arabic! Got to Erbil ok with half a pizza for supper. The next day it was The Citadel and textile museum and Mar Benham, a Syrian Orthodox church just out of Mosul.
Then the long drive back to Baghdad and onto Babylon, where Iraqi officialdom and the Iraqi press discovered us. As I didn’t trust their claim not to run anything until we’d left the country, I had nothing to do with them - and they did run material within a couple of days! For security reasons, I didn’t want to be on anyone’s TV until I was well out of the way.
The South: Babylon was extraordinary. The lion and the tower of Babel; Saddam’s old palace which had been stripped of anything valuable. Then to Kerbala with a police escort, leaving us at the town’s border. I felt like I was entering another country for on came the scarves and hejabs. This was the city beloved of Shias, with the Shrine of Abbas and Hussein, martyred grandsons of the Prophet. Our Canadian found a fellow Canadian, here on pilgrimage. There were throngs of Iranian pilgrims wandering about, paying their respects.
Then to the AlTar caves and the desert fortress of Ukhaidher. We were driving around in a sand storm with a 20% visibility on road with long lines of trucks hauling potash. There was a stop at Khifal, an old Jewish Shrine of Ezekiel where I managed to bash my head coming out of the toilet. We ended up at Najaf, the holy city with the tomb of Ali, the Prophet’s son-in-law and fourth Inman.
Then, traveling from one check point to another, we arrived at Nippur, an extensive site and major religious center. We were escorted by the local guards who liked having photos with us and gave us tea at the end of the tour though having only enough glasses for several people at a time.
Moving on, we landed unexpectedly at Samawa in the crummiest hotel of the trip - which is saying some - and where our Russian-Brit got arrested but was returned to the hotel, after trying to sight see around town. Not much to see from my point of view! But in the morning, we were at the site at Uruk where the ziggurat over looks what had been palaces, temples and walls. To Nasiriyah and another basic hotel.
From there to the US Army base where we made arrangements to enter Ur, another archaeological wonder, one I was most interested in as Leonard Wooley, one of TE Lawrence’s coworkers at Carchemish, was the lead archaeologist. It got complicated as someone didn’t get the word our group was to be admitted, which led to a morning wait in the bull pen. However, two female Army Specialists went way out of their way to get us in, feeding and watering us during our wait. And we did get in, supervised by an apologetic captain in the Chaplain corps; we were allowed to photograph so long as cameras weren’t aimed toward the nearby Air Force installation. Amazingly, the site seems in good condition.
From there to the Marsh Arab country where water is returning into the marshes (Saddam drained it off to move the residents out) and where the old timers are slowly moving back.
Basra: Much security but less of the divisive cement walls. Unlike Baghdad, people were out on the river bank, promenading at night: men smoking hookahs, kids running around and families out for a stroll. While there was evidence of the two invasions, one war and the sanctions, it seemed less depressing than Baghdad.
There were four Ministry of Tourism guides with us, two women and two men. The women were clear that no headscarves were needed and all were most hospitable. I suspect we were the tour of the year!
We went to Qurnah, the confluence of the Tigris and Euphrates and where nearby is Adam’s Tree, where supposedly was the Garden of Eden, Another Ali mosque, memorials to Indian and Gurka soldiers and a boat ride on the Shatt Al Arab, where trash and fish met along with upended boats and ships left from various conflicts.
However, one of the most memorable experiences was getting stamps for postcards at the Basra post office. In front of the building were at least 100 people, mostly men,waiting with an equal number inside. It took the Army to get us inside and up the stairs where postal employees went to find the person who sold stamps. This was all complicated by the interpreter's misunderstanding that we wanted souvenir stamps. Help came from a young woman who spoke quite good English, whose brother was a graduate of Portland State University, Oregon, where he now lived and worked. Apparently, people were waiting at the Post Office for remittances; the Army was there to provide for their security.
Back to Baghdad with a stop at the Tomb of Ezekiel (assuming he’s not buried in Israel) and a brief photo op for me at Kut, historically interesting as the place the Brits surrendered to the Turks during the First World War. Upon arrival at the Baghdad ex-Sheraton, we were set upon by press and television: good publicity for Geoff who will be leading future tours into Iraq and fascinating for me, an ex-journalism student, having my fifteen minutes of Andy Warhol fame.
Security on the Baghdad Airport road is tight. For a time, this was the most dangerous road around. Getting there, you take your vehicle to a large parking area where you switch into an approved auto. Dogs check b oth vehicle and luggage. Then to the airport where again, dogs check luggage before you put them into the airport x-ray machines. No chances are taken and the road is secured with cement barriers and walls.
With a late start and all the security checks, we missed the flight to Damascus. The Ministry representative, a Mr. Ali (I had a fantastic guide in Sikkem, also named Mr. Ali) chased around and got us on later Sham Air flight, so we got to Damascus in time to check in a very comfortable hotel I’d recommend to anyone, the Alfami near the old train station, used by Explore and Imaginative Traveler. Several of us wandered off to the souk and then to dinner.
Later, we went around to the old Railway Station, where a French group were having a reception, with juices, wine and petit-fours. We were invited to crash the party. It was an elegent ending to the several week excursion.
The next morning was the flight to Heathrow, where I spent the night in Terminal 1, being too cheap to get a hotel room. Caught up on Emails.. Security moved all the overnighters - about twelve of us - to Gate 36. where they came with cocoa and coffee at 4 AM. I met an very interesting Irish woman, an editor from Cairo, who had been married to an American. We chatted and had breakfast before her flight.
United flight was about one-third full so I could stretch out in Economy Plus. So not too bad a flight back.
Impressions: On the whole I think the Iraqi Ministry of Tourism likes the idea of tour groups but really isn’t prepared to deal with them. They had poster and cards prepared, but were at times, less than helpful when it came to implementing the itinerary.
I did have much more freedom in getting about than I expected. In the morning in Basra, I was able to get out and pick up breakfast: bread at the bakery, and cheese and yogurt at the corner store. Utilities were more reliable than expected - electricity went off occasionally for a short time. Bottled water was always available: Iraqis drank it as much as we did. Towels, toilet paper and soap were not always provided at hotels which often featured creative plumbing and strange electrical writing.
Food was plentiful: Usual Middle Eastern breakfast: bread, cheese, yogurt and the occasional egg. Main meals included soup, a selection of starters and then either chicken or lamb with rice. I shared with one of the other women throughout and had more than enough. I discovered Rani which was a nice fruit drink, much, much better than Fanta, CocaCola’s contribution to Middle Eastern soft drinks.
Despite security glitches, I never felt frightened. I was cautious and aware throughout but not scared. I should also mention that my experience with our Armed Forces was excellent: these people went out of their way, both at Ur and in Baghdad, to help us get where ever we wanted. That’s my team, good guys/gals all. I feel better about paying my taxes this month.
The people we ran into were friendly though I didn’t have much opportunity to talk with local Iraqis. Kids, as always, were great and I had them hi-fiving from Baghdad to Basra. We had shy smiles from the women, friendly smiles from the younger men and looks of curiosity from the older people. The security people always gave us a wave when we finally passed through.
I did talk with several contract workers: two with NBC News (Pilgrim Security and ex-SAS) and several at the Damascus Airport. They seemed to be stable, right-on guys; several were ex-cops working with the police.
Overall, a good trip but one I would recommend with qualifications: one should be more of a traveler than a tourist. Be prepared to rough it; have a sense of humor and don’t expect an itinerary to be anything but an expression of intent. Everything is subject to change. And take responsibility for your own security.
Cost: including airfare, about $6000, give or take, for the trip. Add on another $720 for the cat’s care. But for me, this was a window of opportunity I couldn’t resist. So well worth it!
Eight of us were on the Iraqi tour: five Brits (one of whom was a Russian with three passports), a Canadian and two Americans. Ages: 36 to 79. All had traveled extensively, Only one had not been to Afghanistan. For over two weeks of March 2009, we traveled from Kurdish Iraq to the Marsh area.
The trip was organized by Geoff Hann who operates Hinterland Travels and who was the leader of the band. Three of the group had traveled with him before. This was the first authorized civilian traveling group since 2003. The scheduling was unpredictable as the present Ministry of Tourism had little experience in managing more than the Iranian pilgrimages to Kerbala.
For example: we were to have two security guards. Then it was none or Twenty. We chose none, which I felt was safer than even two traveling with us. There was a small bus, driver and interpreter (who saw himself as in charge despite the fact he had never been to most of the places). Occasionally, we picked up police cars, front and back, at times with sirens roaring and lights flashing but most of the time, we were left alone.
And I do mean left: left sitting at checkpoints while police and militias decided what to do with us. Not safe for us. Sometimes, they would drive us to the next check point, heave a sign of relief and a wave as they returned to their post and left the problem with the next bunch. Sometimes, they just let us go.
Forty checkpoints between Basra and Baghdad. Unknown number of speed bumps. No one travels fast in Iraq.
Baghdad: We stayed on three occasions at the old Sheraton, outside the Green Zone but inside security walls; across from where Saddam’s statue was toppled. It was comfortable but not well maintained. There were variety of security people with green, gray, blue, and tan based camouflage uniforms but, all with Kalisnikovs, the weapon of choice in the Middle East.
Ugandans, male and female, handled the Green Zone checkpoints, all four of them. Two pieces of picture identification required. Thorough search - I know, I worked in a prison at one time in my life.
Traffic ranged from tanks to donkey carts. There were concrete walls lining the main thorough fares and concrete blocks necessitating a zigzag approach to enter most streets. A besieged city still, for car bombs and shooting still occur.
We did get to the Kahidmain mosque but never did make it to the nearly opened Museum - which wasn’t open during any of the stays in Baghdad. I was told by the press there wasn’t that much in it; some of them had also gotten a run-around. We did visit an Anglican Church. During the last stay in Baghdad, we returned to the Green Zone and saw the Crossed Swords and then finished up with the Arc of Ctesiphan, an awesome structure in an area guarded by the Sons of Iraq, ex AlQaeda lads.
The North: While there was a fair amount of security around and we were refused admission to Nimrod, things seemed calmer in the Kurdish controlled area. Enroute to Erbil, police escorted us to magnificent Minaret and Mosque (in process of repair) at Samarra. Impressive even though the Minaret was in a Railway yard with barbed wire rolled in front of it.
We drove past Kirkuk, reportedly a bit dicey and not the place for our driver to get lost - but he did. He couldn’t read the Kurdish road signs so he had to ask the locals. Signs are Kurdish/English - no Arabic! Got to Erbil ok with half a pizza for supper. The next day it was The Citadel and textile museum and Mar Benham, a Syrian Orthodox church just out of Mosul.
Then the long drive back to Baghdad and onto Babylon, where Iraqi officialdom and the Iraqi press discovered us. As I didn’t trust their claim not to run anything until we’d left the country, I had nothing to do with them - and they did run material within a couple of days! For security reasons, I didn’t want to be on anyone’s TV until I was well out of the way.
The South: Babylon was extraordinary. The lion and the tower of Babel; Saddam’s old palace which had been stripped of anything valuable. Then to Kerbala with a police escort, leaving us at the town’s border. I felt like I was entering another country for on came the scarves and hejabs. This was the city beloved of Shias, with the Shrine of Abbas and Hussein, martyred grandsons of the Prophet. Our Canadian found a fellow Canadian, here on pilgrimage. There were throngs of Iranian pilgrims wandering about, paying their respects.
Then to the AlTar caves and the desert fortress of Ukhaidher. We were driving around in a sand storm with a 20% visibility on road with long lines of trucks hauling potash. There was a stop at Khifal, an old Jewish Shrine of Ezekiel where I managed to bash my head coming out of the toilet. We ended up at Najaf, the holy city with the tomb of Ali, the Prophet’s son-in-law and fourth Inman.
Then, traveling from one check point to another, we arrived at Nippur, an extensive site and major religious center. We were escorted by the local guards who liked having photos with us and gave us tea at the end of the tour though having only enough glasses for several people at a time.
Moving on, we landed unexpectedly at Samawa in the crummiest hotel of the trip - which is saying some - and where our Russian-Brit got arrested but was returned to the hotel, after trying to sight see around town. Not much to see from my point of view! But in the morning, we were at the site at Uruk where the ziggurat over looks what had been palaces, temples and walls. To Nasiriyah and another basic hotel.
From there to the US Army base where we made arrangements to enter Ur, another archaeological wonder, one I was most interested in as Leonard Wooley, one of TE Lawrence’s coworkers at Carchemish, was the lead archaeologist. It got complicated as someone didn’t get the word our group was to be admitted, which led to a morning wait in the bull pen. However, two female Army Specialists went way out of their way to get us in, feeding and watering us during our wait. And we did get in, supervised by an apologetic captain in the Chaplain corps; we were allowed to photograph so long as cameras weren’t aimed toward the nearby Air Force installation. Amazingly, the site seems in good condition.
From there to the Marsh Arab country where water is returning into the marshes (Saddam drained it off to move the residents out) and where the old timers are slowly moving back.
Basra: Much security but less of the divisive cement walls. Unlike Baghdad, people were out on the river bank, promenading at night: men smoking hookahs, kids running around and families out for a stroll. While there was evidence of the two invasions, one war and the sanctions, it seemed less depressing than Baghdad.
There were four Ministry of Tourism guides with us, two women and two men. The women were clear that no headscarves were needed and all were most hospitable. I suspect we were the tour of the year!
We went to Qurnah, the confluence of the Tigris and Euphrates and where nearby is Adam’s Tree, where supposedly was the Garden of Eden, Another Ali mosque, memorials to Indian and Gurka soldiers and a boat ride on the Shatt Al Arab, where trash and fish met along with upended boats and ships left from various conflicts.
However, one of the most memorable experiences was getting stamps for postcards at the Basra post office. In front of the building were at least 100 people, mostly men,waiting with an equal number inside. It took the Army to get us inside and up the stairs where postal employees went to find the person who sold stamps. This was all complicated by the interpreter's misunderstanding that we wanted souvenir stamps. Help came from a young woman who spoke quite good English, whose brother was a graduate of Portland State University, Oregon, where he now lived and worked. Apparently, people were waiting at the Post Office for remittances; the Army was there to provide for their security.
Back to Baghdad with a stop at the Tomb of Ezekiel (assuming he’s not buried in Israel) and a brief photo op for me at Kut, historically interesting as the place the Brits surrendered to the Turks during the First World War. Upon arrival at the Baghdad ex-Sheraton, we were set upon by press and television: good publicity for Geoff who will be leading future tours into Iraq and fascinating for me, an ex-journalism student, having my fifteen minutes of Andy Warhol fame.
Security on the Baghdad Airport road is tight. For a time, this was the most dangerous road around. Getting there, you take your vehicle to a large parking area where you switch into an approved auto. Dogs check b oth vehicle and luggage. Then to the airport where again, dogs check luggage before you put them into the airport x-ray machines. No chances are taken and the road is secured with cement barriers and walls.
With a late start and all the security checks, we missed the flight to Damascus. The Ministry representative, a Mr. Ali (I had a fantastic guide in Sikkem, also named Mr. Ali) chased around and got us on later Sham Air flight, so we got to Damascus in time to check in a very comfortable hotel I’d recommend to anyone, the Alfami near the old train station, used by Explore and Imaginative Traveler. Several of us wandered off to the souk and then to dinner.
Later, we went around to the old Railway Station, where a French group were having a reception, with juices, wine and petit-fours. We were invited to crash the party. It was an elegent ending to the several week excursion.
The next morning was the flight to Heathrow, where I spent the night in Terminal 1, being too cheap to get a hotel room. Caught up on Emails.. Security moved all the overnighters - about twelve of us - to Gate 36. where they came with cocoa and coffee at 4 AM. I met an very interesting Irish woman, an editor from Cairo, who had been married to an American. We chatted and had breakfast before her flight.
United flight was about one-third full so I could stretch out in Economy Plus. So not too bad a flight back.
Impressions: On the whole I think the Iraqi Ministry of Tourism likes the idea of tour groups but really isn’t prepared to deal with them. They had poster and cards prepared, but were at times, less than helpful when it came to implementing the itinerary.
I did have much more freedom in getting about than I expected. In the morning in Basra, I was able to get out and pick up breakfast: bread at the bakery, and cheese and yogurt at the corner store. Utilities were more reliable than expected - electricity went off occasionally for a short time. Bottled water was always available: Iraqis drank it as much as we did. Towels, toilet paper and soap were not always provided at hotels which often featured creative plumbing and strange electrical writing.
Food was plentiful: Usual Middle Eastern breakfast: bread, cheese, yogurt and the occasional egg. Main meals included soup, a selection of starters and then either chicken or lamb with rice. I shared with one of the other women throughout and had more than enough. I discovered Rani which was a nice fruit drink, much, much better than Fanta, CocaCola’s contribution to Middle Eastern soft drinks.
Despite security glitches, I never felt frightened. I was cautious and aware throughout but not scared. I should also mention that my experience with our Armed Forces was excellent: these people went out of their way, both at Ur and in Baghdad, to help us get where ever we wanted. That’s my team, good guys/gals all. I feel better about paying my taxes this month.
The people we ran into were friendly though I didn’t have much opportunity to talk with local Iraqis. Kids, as always, were great and I had them hi-fiving from Baghdad to Basra. We had shy smiles from the women, friendly smiles from the younger men and looks of curiosity from the older people. The security people always gave us a wave when we finally passed through.
I did talk with several contract workers: two with NBC News (Pilgrim Security and ex-SAS) and several at the Damascus Airport. They seemed to be stable, right-on guys; several were ex-cops working with the police.
Overall, a good trip but one I would recommend with qualifications: one should be more of a traveler than a tourist. Be prepared to rough it; have a sense of humor and don’t expect an itinerary to be anything but an expression of intent. Everything is subject to change. And take responsibility for your own security.
Cost: including airfare, about $6000, give or take, for the trip. Add on another $720 for the cat’s care. But for me, this was a window of opportunity I couldn’t resist. So well worth it!
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Thoughts before March 2009 Mesopotamian trip
I’ve really given a lot of consideration to this trip. I suspect more than I gave to the Kabul tour, but then I felt Global Exchange wouldn’t be sending us over to Afghanistan without precautions. This Mesopotamian tour is run by a guy who is into archaeological expeditions, is very familiar with the area - also, Afghanistan and environs -and is co author of Bradt’s Iraqi travel guide. So, I trust.
But this trip partly motivated my enrollment in Centurion's five-day Hostile Environment and First Aid training course. And that turned out to be everything I hoped for: upgraded my long outdated First Aid practices and prepared me for unfriendly territory. Well worth the $3000 cost.
Most interesting has been the reactions of two experienced travelers. One spent four years orbiting the globe and another has worked in Iraq and trekked in Afghanistan. Both were amazed/appalled. The first one bought me lunch as he tried to figure out what made me tick while the second gave me his Emil address and cell phone numbers to contact if I got into trouble.
Then there was the tattooed Marine vet at the surplus store: he had been in Iraq along the Syrian border during the 1990s and also in Afghanistan during the time the US was aiding the Taliban in their resistance to the Russians. While he was proud to have been a Marine, he would never re enlist. He was embittered by the politics involved and certainly, was bewildered why I would go into these countries voluntarily.
The only explanation I can give: I go because it’s there, I am curious and it is accessible. I can wait, sure, but then I’m not convinced it will became any safer a year or two from now. If I wait until it’s safe, I wouldn’t have wandered into Afghanistan, Yemen, Lebanon, Mali, Ethiopia - all places where outsiders have been at risk.
One of the travelers asked me where I would not go - my response: where there was active conflict and I would be endangered or get in the way, e.g.: at the moment, I am not planning to go to the southern part of Afghanistan or into Pakistan’s Northwest Territories.
At this time of my life, I can afford to take some chances. High on my list are Algeria, Libya (assuming acquisition of a visa), Palestine, North Korea. Kashmir, Kosovo. Serbia and the Baltic states. I’m thinking of taking off for nine weeks, from October-December this Fall, spending time in North Africa and the Middle East. I would do several tours, participate in a dig and rumble some on my own.
I tend to travel on the cheap though short of sleeping “rough”. And as a gray-haired female who speaks only English, I am limited. So, for some trips, I do British/Australian budget tours though at times, I’m on my own. I’ve gotten braver as I’ve become more familiar with the areas. But there are still places where I want the structure of a group, especially the first time around.
And Mesopotamia is certainly one. Though it seems to be getting a bit crowded. A current Email from the leader reports our Security contingent is being increased from two, upwards. Soon, more Security than participants (nine have signed on). Which increases the cost to us and the income to the Iraqis. And the advice of my HEFAT people to become a “gray person” goes down the tubes.
In both Ethiopia, Bangladesh and Yemen, there were Security people. The Ethiopian guy didn’t know how to manage his weapon safely; the Bangladesh bunch seemed ok as they followed us around but the Yemeni soldiers didn’t appear too reliable as they chewed khat while checking out the AK-47 mounted on the Toyota pickup.
Oh well, it will be a trip, any way you look at it!
But this trip partly motivated my enrollment in Centurion's five-day Hostile Environment and First Aid training course. And that turned out to be everything I hoped for: upgraded my long outdated First Aid practices and prepared me for unfriendly territory. Well worth the $3000 cost.
Most interesting has been the reactions of two experienced travelers. One spent four years orbiting the globe and another has worked in Iraq and trekked in Afghanistan. Both were amazed/appalled. The first one bought me lunch as he tried to figure out what made me tick while the second gave me his Emil address and cell phone numbers to contact if I got into trouble.
Then there was the tattooed Marine vet at the surplus store: he had been in Iraq along the Syrian border during the 1990s and also in Afghanistan during the time the US was aiding the Taliban in their resistance to the Russians. While he was proud to have been a Marine, he would never re enlist. He was embittered by the politics involved and certainly, was bewildered why I would go into these countries voluntarily.
The only explanation I can give: I go because it’s there, I am curious and it is accessible. I can wait, sure, but then I’m not convinced it will became any safer a year or two from now. If I wait until it’s safe, I wouldn’t have wandered into Afghanistan, Yemen, Lebanon, Mali, Ethiopia - all places where outsiders have been at risk.
One of the travelers asked me where I would not go - my response: where there was active conflict and I would be endangered or get in the way, e.g.: at the moment, I am not planning to go to the southern part of Afghanistan or into Pakistan’s Northwest Territories.
At this time of my life, I can afford to take some chances. High on my list are Algeria, Libya (assuming acquisition of a visa), Palestine, North Korea. Kashmir, Kosovo. Serbia and the Baltic states. I’m thinking of taking off for nine weeks, from October-December this Fall, spending time in North Africa and the Middle East. I would do several tours, participate in a dig and rumble some on my own.
I tend to travel on the cheap though short of sleeping “rough”. And as a gray-haired female who speaks only English, I am limited. So, for some trips, I do British/Australian budget tours though at times, I’m on my own. I’ve gotten braver as I’ve become more familiar with the areas. But there are still places where I want the structure of a group, especially the first time around.
And Mesopotamia is certainly one. Though it seems to be getting a bit crowded. A current Email from the leader reports our Security contingent is being increased from two, upwards. Soon, more Security than participants (nine have signed on). Which increases the cost to us and the income to the Iraqis. And the advice of my HEFAT people to become a “gray person” goes down the tubes.
In both Ethiopia, Bangladesh and Yemen, there were Security people. The Ethiopian guy didn’t know how to manage his weapon safely; the Bangladesh bunch seemed ok as they followed us around but the Yemeni soldiers didn’t appear too reliable as they chewed khat while checking out the AK-47 mounted on the Toyota pickup.
Oh well, it will be a trip, any way you look at it!
Saturday, February 7, 2009
HEFAT to Haydn
In the August 2008 issue of National Geographic Adventure magazine, there was a squib about Centurion Safety’s five day HEFAT (Hostile Environments and Emergency First Aid Training) course. Given weekly in the UK and monthly in the US, it made some sense to me. I manage to travel in areas where weapons are prevalent and occasionally, people have been taken hostage. Additionally, what First Aid training I had was in my college days - and we won’t talk about how far back that is. They’ve developed three or four various CPR techniques in the meantime. And a whole different way to deal with snake bites.
So investing time and money in this kind of training: not only the First Aid but becoming aware of potentially dangerous situations and, dealing with simulated scenarios devised by staff, all ex-Royal Marine commandos, seemed a good investment to me. Most of the students are media people and NGO workers and our January 2009 group of thirteen was no exception. Many were BBC people with an AP reporter thrown in for good measure, with the rest NGO representatives. One correspondent was a Sandhurst graduate with four years in the Grenadiers; another a Russian with dual Russian-UK passports.
The classes were held on a farm in Woodstock, Va, half an hour from Strasburg’s Ramada Inn where we were housed. The weather was wintry cold - snowy and icy at times. Classes alternated between indoors and outside. There is nothing like “hitting the deck” on wet slushy ground. And we did learn to immediately dive down upon hearing gunfire.
The five instructors dealt with different topics from First Aid to Map Reading to Weaponry to Personal Security to Disturbances and all the places in between. Teaching was both didactic and realistic . At times, I felt I wasn’t ding anything right but eventually got the hang of checking out wounds and getting bandages on tight enough. Two of the instructors made marvelous howling victims - they would have passed any audition at the Royal School of Dramatic Art.
The NG Adventure article said Centurion had been doing their US course for seven years; they certainly knew what they were doing. I came out of it not only with practical knowledge but convinced awareness was the key to survival; that I had to be proactive and take responsibility for my own safety, whether I traveled alone or in a group.
In fact, much of their material would have been useful in my prior life in Probation.
From there, I hitched a ride into Washington DC with one of my fellow students, who was soon to go into Gaza. Stayed at The Tabard Inn, where I had been with my husband some ten? fifteen? years before. It’s a charming forty room establishment located in two old townhouses with a somewhat upscale restaurant. I was on the third floor of a rabbit warren of rooms, a single with facilities down the hall.
I had booked a Gray line Spy tour for Saturday, a trip around town with a guide pointing out significant places in DC’s espionage history. Afterward I went to the Spy Museum, which had a rather glitzy presentation of the covert world from then to now, then being pre-Elizabethan times. I walked back to the Inn near DuPont Circle and then down to Kennedy Center where I had a ticket for André Previn conducting the National Symphony with Anna Sophie Mutter soloing. A Haydn, a Mozart, one of Previn’s own pieces and concluding with a Richard Strauss.
Previn is a contemporary and I remember him yeas back, bright eyed and busy tailed, as a wonderful jazz pianist. However, seeing him at the Kennedy, he seemed so very frail, hardly able to get on the podium and needing help to get off. Both the usher, also a bit long in the tooth, and I thought he could benefit from a yoga class.
As I arrived to the Kennedy early, I was able to sit in for over an hours worth of Broadway composers’ and performers’ presentations in the Kennedy’s Millennium Stage series'. Thus supper was a sad chicken salad sandwich from the food cart which I ate during the symphony’s intermission.
Spent Sunday checking out The White House, the Lincoln Memorial, the Vietnam Wall, and
Washington Monument, and the Mall. The Vietnam Wall was just as moving as I had been told - you couldn’t help but be teary eyed. Also added to that area since I was last here, was a large WW2 memorial which didn’t impress me particularly. A fair number of sightseers were around, particularly at he Wall.
I also walked up to the Crime and Punishment Museum which was quite extensive and well done. A entire wall was devoted to Patty Hearst, who I last remember housed in the San Mateo country jail during her trial in SF’s federal court. There was stuff from the old G- man and prohibition days to present day bits and pieces. Coming out, I had to escape the crowd lined up for a Chinatown parade as I went back to the Inn.
Monday and Tuesday were spent looking into visas - got my Syria visa and sent in material requesting an Iraqi visa. Monday, I had a leisurely lunch with an old friend, my husband’s former boss, who had just retired from the VA. Tuesday, I wandered out to Georgetown and explored around. I really like Washington though suspect I could not afford to live there.
Surprising sighting: Also staying at The Tabard Inn was the author, diplomat, and BBC presenter, Rory Stewart, who I had missed in Kabul but caught up with in Jordan. We chatted briefly; he was amazed/appalled at my March Iraqi venture though he himself was headed back there - he had been involved with the Coalitions efforts at governance. Charming and very bright guy!
So investing time and money in this kind of training: not only the First Aid but becoming aware of potentially dangerous situations and, dealing with simulated scenarios devised by staff, all ex-Royal Marine commandos, seemed a good investment to me. Most of the students are media people and NGO workers and our January 2009 group of thirteen was no exception. Many were BBC people with an AP reporter thrown in for good measure, with the rest NGO representatives. One correspondent was a Sandhurst graduate with four years in the Grenadiers; another a Russian with dual Russian-UK passports.
The classes were held on a farm in Woodstock, Va, half an hour from Strasburg’s Ramada Inn where we were housed. The weather was wintry cold - snowy and icy at times. Classes alternated between indoors and outside. There is nothing like “hitting the deck” on wet slushy ground. And we did learn to immediately dive down upon hearing gunfire.
The five instructors dealt with different topics from First Aid to Map Reading to Weaponry to Personal Security to Disturbances and all the places in between. Teaching was both didactic and realistic . At times, I felt I wasn’t ding anything right but eventually got the hang of checking out wounds and getting bandages on tight enough. Two of the instructors made marvelous howling victims - they would have passed any audition at the Royal School of Dramatic Art.
The NG Adventure article said Centurion had been doing their US course for seven years; they certainly knew what they were doing. I came out of it not only with practical knowledge but convinced awareness was the key to survival; that I had to be proactive and take responsibility for my own safety, whether I traveled alone or in a group.
In fact, much of their material would have been useful in my prior life in Probation.
From there, I hitched a ride into Washington DC with one of my fellow students, who was soon to go into Gaza. Stayed at The Tabard Inn, where I had been with my husband some ten? fifteen? years before. It’s a charming forty room establishment located in two old townhouses with a somewhat upscale restaurant. I was on the third floor of a rabbit warren of rooms, a single with facilities down the hall.
I had booked a Gray line Spy tour for Saturday, a trip around town with a guide pointing out significant places in DC’s espionage history. Afterward I went to the Spy Museum, which had a rather glitzy presentation of the covert world from then to now, then being pre-Elizabethan times. I walked back to the Inn near DuPont Circle and then down to Kennedy Center where I had a ticket for André Previn conducting the National Symphony with Anna Sophie Mutter soloing. A Haydn, a Mozart, one of Previn’s own pieces and concluding with a Richard Strauss.
Previn is a contemporary and I remember him yeas back, bright eyed and busy tailed, as a wonderful jazz pianist. However, seeing him at the Kennedy, he seemed so very frail, hardly able to get on the podium and needing help to get off. Both the usher, also a bit long in the tooth, and I thought he could benefit from a yoga class.
As I arrived to the Kennedy early, I was able to sit in for over an hours worth of Broadway composers’ and performers’ presentations in the Kennedy’s Millennium Stage series'. Thus supper was a sad chicken salad sandwich from the food cart which I ate during the symphony’s intermission.
Spent Sunday checking out The White House, the Lincoln Memorial, the Vietnam Wall, and
Washington Monument, and the Mall. The Vietnam Wall was just as moving as I had been told - you couldn’t help but be teary eyed. Also added to that area since I was last here, was a large WW2 memorial which didn’t impress me particularly. A fair number of sightseers were around, particularly at he Wall.
I also walked up to the Crime and Punishment Museum which was quite extensive and well done. A entire wall was devoted to Patty Hearst, who I last remember housed in the San Mateo country jail during her trial in SF’s federal court. There was stuff from the old G- man and prohibition days to present day bits and pieces. Coming out, I had to escape the crowd lined up for a Chinatown parade as I went back to the Inn.
Monday and Tuesday were spent looking into visas - got my Syria visa and sent in material requesting an Iraqi visa. Monday, I had a leisurely lunch with an old friend, my husband’s former boss, who had just retired from the VA. Tuesday, I wandered out to Georgetown and explored around. I really like Washington though suspect I could not afford to live there.
Surprising sighting: Also staying at The Tabard Inn was the author, diplomat, and BBC presenter, Rory Stewart, who I had missed in Kabul but caught up with in Jordan. We chatted briefly; he was amazed/appalled at my March Iraqi venture though he himself was headed back there - he had been involved with the Coalitions efforts at governance. Charming and very bright guy!
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