"Something in the way of a tour..."

("I'm sorry Grimm, what was that?")

This picture (which has nothing to do with the post,) features a prophetic looking Bro.Ludlow and his er, "attentive class" visiting a synagogue in Capernaum. (Yes, the same one where the Savior would have taught, excepting that the synagogue where we're sitting was built right on top of that one.... so not really the same place, but you get the picture.) I highly recommend blowing this picture up--it's really fun to see everyone's expressions.




http://ce.byu.edu/jc/hosting-video.cfm

Follow this link and you'll get to see a movie-tour of the Jerusalem Center!

OH MAN, this movie made me laugh. I got sentimental too. They call it the "Hosting Video" of the Jerusalem Center, but what it really is is the movie that they play at the beginning of a tour of the center. They have the whole movie in five different languages available at the center. And they use at least four of those languages every week. No, really. The center often takes through more than eight tour groups per day. Anyway--the movie. It's really slow-going, so I'll understand if you skip through bits of it, or all of it, in fact. And I'm sorry that the window is so small.

Just as a note, after this film, you will NOT hear a short organ recital, OR tour the center's gardens. But watch the video anyway. And you can skip through the part about BYU Provo, unless you want a good laugh at everyone's 90's clothes.

Other things to note:

They claim that the center accommodates "some 800 students each year," but last year the number was only 280, so keep that in mind. The full capacity of the building per semester is 160 students (4 busses,) but my group was the largest and only had 81 (two busses.)

I loved the library soooooo much. I was in there all the time.

The "theater" that is shown in the film we called the "dome room," because the ceiling was a dome and the whole thing had really good acoustics. It is where we had relief society meetings.

The forum has orange seats--and was my favorite classroom at the center. And it was never as full of students as the movie portrayed, but that's okay.

At he end of the movie he says something in Arabic, and then says "broochim chabaim," which is Hebrew for "Blessed are they who arrive." It is a fond welcome greeting.

The Hebrew teacher featured on the movie is Judy Goldman, my teacher--and I loved her!

The "multipurpose room" is now an art gallery filled with beautiful photos of Jerusalem.

The shot of the "student housing" is.... let's just say that the rooms were only that clean during cleaning checks.

The "aged olive tree" in the movie looks like its dying, but now its branches are covered and flourishing. In fact, the whole place looks barren in the photo compared to the wildlife that's there now. We had way more plants than the movie lets on.

Brand New Camel

Left to Right: Bailey Porter, Jessica Bringhurst, Daniel Murdock, and Lauran Lloyd.

I am proud to admit that I took this amazing picture from atop a moving camel. With the pyramids in the background and everything. This photo was voted "one of the best" for the semester slideshow dvd that we're all getting. I am so proud. Ahaha.

I am however sorry that no one got a picture this good of me when I was on a camel. If there are any pictures of me on a camel I haven't seen them. : ( Ah well. The important thing is that I have in fact, ridden one. And I have.

For you beginner camel cowboys I will elucidate the finer points of riding. You mount the camel when it is kneeling down, and lean forward as far as you can when it stands front first, so you don't go sliding off the end. Then, if you want to do it properly, do whatever your Bedouin guide tells you to do. (For full explanation, watch Lawrence of Arabia.) They cal the camel the "Ship of the desert" because it glides across the sand with a rocking motion--quite similar to the sensation of riding in a small boat. Hold on and enjoy the ride. When it comes time to dismount, prepare yourself; dismount is the hardest part of the ride. Lean as far backwards as you possibly can. Trust me. Because when that camel starts going down, front first, it feels like the ground has evaporated. Suddenly you're falling--pfoom! So lean backwards as far as you are able and enjoy that lurching sensation. (For a demonstration of a perfect dismount, observe Omar Sharif in Lawrence of Arabia. I couldn't believe it when I re-watched that movie and saw how he dismounted from the animal. Unbelievable class!)

And I don't know what the deal is with camels "spitting," because I never saw any of that, but their lips are certainly pliable. Extremely pliable. They'd flap them around and around at you in the oddest form of communication--but you know they were trying to send you a sign for something. I'll say this for camels: they are intelligent. Too intelligent to put up with some people. And when they're mad--don't be near their head. They have teeth! Other than that, I've observed that they are in fact sweet, and "adorable" as Evelyn said in "The Mummy." They are playful too--when they aren't looking at the world through lethargy glasses. I really liked it when the camel's owner would open a liter water bottle to give to the camel. It woud grab it with its teeth and tilt its head back--draining the bottle! It would actually do that! So cool.

Oh--and--almost every girl on our tour had offers of marraige from Arabs who claimed that they would pay our fathers a thousand camels for our hand. "You such pretty girl, I pay one thousand camels for you!" He'd say with a smile. To which my awesome friend Shannon said, "I'm worth TWO thousand." Ha hahahahaha!

I Feel Pretty

The thing about being a tourist is that certain souvenirs appeal to you, when of course they appeal to other tourists too. (Say that ten times fast-- tourists too-tourists too-tourists too.....blech!) Take these Egyptian soccer jerseys for example; out of the eighty JCenter students, I'd say at least nine of us bought one. And every time you'd wear yours, someone else would too. This field trip--to West Jerusalem's Mt. Hertzl, in honor of Theodore Hertzl--four of us did. Quite common. From left to right: Daniel Murdock (our Canadian boy,) Kendra Crandall, Rachel EM... uh... me, and Craig Estep. (I'm making a hideous face in this picture, but it proves my jersey point. Plus, my hat and sunglasses prove how bright it was that day. OR it just proves that I'm extrememly photo-sensitive. Either one.)

Some of the jerseys would say "Egyptian," but others would say "Egyption." Mine is the latter, and I would always joke that mine was more exotic because it was made by poor Egypt-shawn people.



















The same thing follows for these red shirts-- if you think it's cool, other cool people will too. If they have taste, that is. This next photo is, as I'm sure you cn guess, a Coca-Cola label. And, contrary to prior belief, it is NOT arabic. It is hebrew script. I say script, because they use different characters to write (script) than they do to read (block letters). I think that's nutter though, because then you have to learn TWO alphabets--but whatever. This picture was taken at Ein Gev, a lovely place in Israel with a fresh water spring, stream, and waterfall--and those are rare in that country. From left to right: Ryan Haynie, Kayla Partridge, Tiffany Dunn, Rebecca Price, and half of Rebecca Redd's head. And a note-- I realize that none of them are looking into the camera. I snapped this picture when they were posing for someone else. I learned that taking random pictures of people instead of making them pose usually paid off.

Ouila!

I've started to play with some of my favorite pictures, tweaking them to seek improvement. Can YOU see the difference, because I can! I think I did a good job.















Anyone? Anyone? I'm sure I have at least two family members that will see this and think that I've ruined it, or that I could have done better, but I really think that it looks awesome. Opinions, anyone?

Galilean Bonfire

These pictures are of sunsets over the sea of Galilee--northern Israel. (Though, it really isn't a sea, because it's fresh water. The Jews have it right, they call it "Lake Kinneret," the word for heart, because it is heart-shaped. Anatomic heart--not valentine.) The sunsets are lovely there; the atmosphere is relaxing and sweet. After nine days of living in a kibbutz on the eastern shore, it was time for a final bonfire--our last party. We split class by class into two fire-pits for our fun.

Somehow we procured marshmallows (that weren't like Jet-Puffs at all) and we made s'mores. Cookies were also on the docket, as well as Mirindas soda--a very tasty substance. American sodas are sweetened with corn syrup, even when it is common knowledge that corn syrup isn't half as scrumptious. Mmm, Mirindas soda. The green-apple flavor that I had in Egypt made me think that I was actually drinking a liquid jolly rancher. So good. Anyway, the treats were good.

We started to sing and play silly games like Murder-in-the-dark, charades of things we'd done over the semester, and telephone. Emma (our wilderness chief, by title--she's run those wilderness intervention camps for troubled youth and all that--she can make backpacks out of palm fronds and stuff) anyway, she pulled out her guitar and her drums that she bought in the old city and started playing songs and stuff. Then, with a wicked smirk painted on her jaw, she announces that we're going to learn a chant. She taught us to sing uga-chaka-uga-chaka and overlap it in a "round" with "Book of Mormon Stories." The result was a half-crazed aboriginal war cry/rain dance. Then the really brilliant plan began.

Emma had us tiptoe silently towards the other class until we had them surrounded, and then we got em! Booming yells and flailing limbs, we tramped in a ring around the other class--singing and uga-chaka-ing. "UGA-CHAKA Lamanites in UGA-CHAKA...ree! Long ago our UGA-CHAK from far across the UGA-CHAKA!" and if you know the song you can get the drift. We were fearsome to behold. And very loud. No doubt the Israelis staying in the kibbutz that night were shaking their heads and saying, "stupid Americans."

I wandered down to the beach and gazed across the water to the night lights from Tiberias, and then up at the stars. Orion had come out, and I was very glad to see him. After the bonfire, it was a very peaceful night. My last sleep in a kibbutz. :D (for the near and foreseeable future, anyway.)

Tour Busses and More

PHOTO EXPLANATIONS:
These are all pictures that I took FROM our bus, or busses if you want to be technical--we rarely had the same bus for more than two days. Shown here are 1) a Jordanian bus, 2) The "Sunshine Bus," 3) Soil Conditions in Northern Israel... note the large limestone deposits, 4) Me and Janessa, the musical theater buffs--sorry that it's upside down, 5) Driving back to Jerusalem from Akko, (note the stickers on the bus window,) 6) Danny. Asleep. Obviously. 7) Israeli freeway signs, tri-lingual as always, 8) a galilean wheat field (all that green grew in three days! Whoa!) and 9) Kerri Regher asleep on James Heaton's shoulder... they were the best of friends and were usually in each other's company. And I love that they're wearing matching sweatshirts from Hebrew University. (I have one just like hers!) Anyway... the blog post... 10) At Jericho, exhausted from a hike to a monastery and bored from waiting for everyone to get back on the bus.

GONNA RIDE ON THE BUS:
When I grew up, my mother would play a really cheesy cassette tape for me full of the energetic songs kids love. My nephews now listen to the same songs, running and jumping around to lyrics that say "this is my jumping song, jump jump jump." One of my nephew Ben's favorite songs on this tape is about traveling. I wish that I could play the song for you, because if you aren't familiar with the tune you'll have no idea how repetitive and obnoxious it can be. List it in the ranks of songs like, "It's a Small World," and the song that never ends. (My sincere apologies if either of those songs are now running through your mind because I mentioned them.)

The traveling song's first verse is about riding a bus, the second about a plane, and a train, etc. The first verse of songs being the verse that people usually remember--most people have no idea that there is more than one verse to the Star Spangled Banner; furthermore, who knows more than the first verse to Amazing Grace? Um, no one. Needless to say, the words to that drasted traveling song that our family usually mentions are from the first verse. About the bus.

"Gonna ride on the bus, chucka cha-chucka-cha, gonna ride on the buh-us..... Guh-nah ride on the buh-uuuuuus, gunna ride on the BUS."

Gaaaaaa! This is not a song that I wish to have repeated in my head every day! It's painful. To quote a movie, "My ears are too delicate" to listen to anything so klitchy and catchy. Nevertheless, during my sojourn through the Holy Land I rode almost exclusively... on a bus. Many many many many many busses.

Long busses, short busses, old busses, new busses, hot busses, cold busses.
Red busses, blue busses, orange and yellow,
The driver may chew, but he's a nice fellow.
Busses with flies, and busses sticky,
Busses clean and busses icky.
I declare I've had my fill--
No more, I say! Or I'll get ill.

What's remarkable is the fact that I never was ill on the bus. PHENOMENAL. I have extreme motion-sickness tendencies, and yet, somehow I avoided the awful nausea and embarrassment related to the same. After three years of riding a charter bus through the canyon to girls camp, and barfing every time, I finally got permission to ride up with some of the leaders instead of on the bus.

Before I left for Jerusalem I was mortified; thinking of how many field trips I would be on a bus, driving over mountains and through deserts and here there and everywhere. I don't know HOW the marvelous blessing occurred, but it did, and I wasn't sick. Hallelujah! I have three bottles of motion sickness pills that I get to save for the next time I ride on a bus. As far as I can tell, I've either A) grown out of my motion sickness, 2) the lower-altitude lessened the affects of it, or D) I went on so many bus trips that I grew accustomed to the ill-affects and learned to deal with it.
(note the subtle movie-quotation in that last sentence.)

Did you know that large-scale tours are so common in Cairo, Amman, and Israel that they make up-scale tour busses? Really nice ones. I've spent many an hour riding in a mercedes tour bus. Yes, you read that correctly. MERCEDES. There were a lot of busses. Often more busses than cars filled the traffic lanes in the cities. Again, odd. Or perhaps, just not familiar to our way of thinking.

What did we do with our time on the bus? Sleep, talk, listen to iPods, listen to Bro. Ludlow as he explained various geography/culture/doctrine, etc. Lip sync with the person next to you while you share headphones and listen to American standard fare, sleep, drool while your mouth hangs open and your head lolls from side to side, debate whether or not you're allowed to lean on your neighbors shoulders, TRY to sleep (more common than actual sleeping), look at the window, try to not get grime or dust from your shoes on the rest of your clothes or on the seats, re-stash everything you're carrying on your person on the shelf above your head, duck when your stuff rolls from off the shelf above your head and hits you--or the unsuspecting person across from you, sleep, sleep, fall asleep in various degrees of unattractive slumber, discuss politics, sleep, get into movie-quote wars, OR if you're a GOOD person you could study.... sheesh.

I'm sure that most of you have noticed that on school buses the same people tend to drift toward the same seats every time. Our bus was no exception; though Brother Ludlow encouraged us to mix it up. Most of us would sit with a variety of people and sit all over the bus. Where was I, you may ask? I am a front-sitter. MY customary spot was right behind Bro. Huntington and Bro. Ludlow's seats... the second seat behind the bus driver. I liked sitting up front because I could get on and off quickly, hear the lectures easier, and see out the windshield to where we were going.

I also had easy access to the bus question-answer-ambush sessions that I was so fond of. I'd point to something random and say, "Bro. Huntington, what's that?" or "where are we going?" or ask for more details about where we had just been. After visiting Caesarea Maritime, I had an in-depth discussion with Bro. H about how Herod may have managed to engineer the underwater cement for the harbor that he built--opening Palestine to another port. I peppered the teachers with questions, and I got a lot of answers. And let me tell you, it also had its benefits. Bro. Huntington made me his assistant a couple times--sending me to get the group's tickets and hand out stuff to everyone. He would pay me in ice cream bars. Mmmmm Nok Outs..... ohhhhhh.

I also have to mention that there were about 45 seats on each bus, and that for our 81 students + faculty, we had two buses to share: "Bus One," (pronounced Buh-Swan if you're an Egyptian tour guide,) and "Bus Two," which later became known as the Black Pearl. Bus One carried Bro. Ludlow's class (and hence, me.) Bus Two carried Bro. Draper's class.

A few other details.... hmm. Every bus had a front door and either a back door or a middle door. The stairs were steep. The seats were covered with that typical fabric that all tour busses seem to have, and the curtains were a variety of colors---ranging from gray to Zeal... Brandon's word for the "zealous teal" that we had in Egypt. I called that color lapis, and Brandon told me that no one cared about my high-falutin designer words. I particularly enjoyed what I dubbed the "sunshine bus," a Jordanian bus with chipper goldenrod curtains that made the whole bus look like it was full of SunnyD.

On long trips some people would daringly fall asleep in the 1 1/2 ft wide walkway. Also, a bizillion photos were taken of people when we were asleep on the bus; I only have a couple of them, including a great one of Danny, who drifted off behind me on our way home from Haifa (a 1.5 hour drive that took almost four hours when we were trapped in traffic.)

And I think I covered everything. That was life on the bus.

P.S. I can't BELIEVE that I forgot to mention how we took roll on the bus. Bro. Ludlow divided us into groups, and each group was supposed to look out for each other and make sure that we didn't lose anyone. We named these groups by giving them bible names--which brother Ludlow would only say in Hebrew, so we eventually learned it in Hebrew too. In English (Hebrew) format: Noah (M'noach), Moses (Moshe), David (Dah-veed), Solomon (Sh'lomo), and my group--Boanerges (Bne're'am). [I named my group Boanerges, because in Greek it means "Sons of Thunder." It is the surname Christ gave to James and John.]

Anyway, before leaving anywhere, we'd have a head-count on the bus. Bro. Ludlow would call for a group's head count, and then the group would sound off on their own jingle-ish-thing. Moshe usually said "Moses-supposes-his-toeses-are-roses-but Moses-supposes-erroneous-ly" with each group member saying one section. It was VERY fun. My group said "AND-my-father-dwelt-in-a-tent-amen," and I had the privilege of saying "a." It was a great, quick way to take roll, 'cause if any part of the phrase was missing, we'd immediately know which person was missing. Great idea, Bro. Ludlow!