I am a big sister!

I move to Emua village tomorrow.

My family has a 9-yr-old daughter and a 5-yr-old son. I always wanted a brother. And to be a big sister. Exciting!

No time to post pics but I have tons from these last few days.

Huge rollercoaster the past couple days...but I'm on an upswing at the moment.

I went snorkeling for the first time today. It took awhile for me to "get" it but coral reef is pretty cool. There's a lot of...fish and stuff around.

I also bought a beautiful guitar for not a lot of money which I am very happy about...and somehow found myself a guitar teacher (a sixtysomething volunteer in the capital who is a guitar teacher but could also use some personal training and nutritionist services - cheers for the barter system). That's pretty much why I am so happy at the moment. I've been away from the guitar for 3 hours and am getting antsy already...

Yesterday my friend & I bought went out on the town to buy a bush knife and sharpening stone.
Like...am I for real?

Today's Survivor-esque training tasks: Open a green coconut using a stake in the ground. Mi fail miserably. Take the back of a bush knife and hack open another kind of coconut against your other hand. Not so good. Skin some taro and root vegetables - thank god ashram life taught me how to peel vegetables...

All in due time.

Hardest adjustment so far: having to get a boy to walk me everywhere. Even if you've done all sorts of work ahead of time to visualize that kind of environment...I just don't think it can compare to the actual experience. "Please, please, will you walk with me fifty steps to buy some stamps at 7/11?"

Anyway. It's all part of it.

Phase 1 ends tomorrow. Probably won't feel as much like big-kid camp as soon as we're all separated living with our own families. We still train together all day but we're strongly encouraged to spend all our free time practicing Bislama and getting to know the Ni-Van way...

We go rural in less than 24 hours...bring on the bucket baths.

The important thing is...
each day passes.

:)

E-mail me during training!

volunteer@vu.peacecorps.gov

Put my name in the subject line. They'll print if off and bring it up to the training village every Wednesday.

I will get online with a proper blog and pics again before Sunday, when we leave for Emua.

7 vaccines plus anti-malarials in 24 hours. From the girl who won't take a Benadryl.

That's the way it rolls, you know?

(I'm doing fine).

Mi no kakae mit.

That's Bislama for "I am a vegetarian".

Staging in L.A & Arrival in Port Vila

Click on the above album to see the photo version of the blog I am about to write...

So.

So far so good.

I LOVE Vanuatu...and Peace Corps.

I am so excited to live here.

So the first thirteen hour flight was surprisingly easy and uneventful. I slept for almost half of it.

We had a hell of a time getting 24 people through Customs, (two of the boys did not declare the mud on their hiking shoes and the dogs sniffed them out) and back in through check-in and security. We used almost every minute of our five-hour layover.

Our first major Survivor team challenge was getting ourselves en masse through the more restrictive luggage requirements from Auckland to Port Vila. Bags that 'got by' in L.A. didn't have a hope in hell on this side of the world and its small(ish) planes. We held up the line for over an hour as everybody frantically weighed all their bags and redistributed the collective luggage. Shouts of "I've got 3 kilos to spare...3 kilos to spare..." were gratefully met by cries of "Oh, oh, oh! Can you take my laptop and my Langston Hughes anthology?" It was way better than any team-building exercise Peace Corps could have designed for us...now the second part of the impromptu 'icebreaker' is for everyone to wander around the motel figuring out whose stuff they have.

When we arrived in the airport, there was a local stringband playing as we lined up in the "Citizens/Residents" queue. We were officially...immigrants. That felt cool. The Peace Corps country director was there to greet us and guide us through the airport, and much to our surprise there was a grand ole' party waiting for us outside!

Peace Corps staff and existing volunteers were waiting in a long line and when each person walked outside, there was an eruption of applause. The first person put a lei around our necks (I forget what they call it here). The second person tied a sarong around our hips. The third person handed us a coconut with a straw poking out. The fourth took a photo. And others just hung around and cheered.

After a brief orientation at our motel, we all headed out for our first kava experience. At first I wasn't planning on drinking any, due to not having slept, etc and wanting to be more stable before I experimented with narcotics, but after we got to the nakamal (kava bar), I changed my tune. I decided I may as well have my first experience when everyone else was having theirs, and when we had the safety and support of more experienced volunteers and Peace Corps staff hanging around. When the Country Director brought everyone around of 100s, I figured it couldn't be so bad.

Indeed, it wasn't. I think I was the only hesitant person that asked for a 50 (a half-dose) to start - after a half hour of not feeling anything I had another 50, and then I guess it started kicking a little bit. I just felt a bit...chill and relaxed...though definitely didn't feel intoxicated in any way. Everyone reacts differently, a lot of people really felt (happily) stoned, and I didn't have that much...but that was just fine with me as an introduction to the whole scene.

So, it's the weekend and we don't have anything we have to do until Monday morning, so my plan for tomorrow is to sleep (FINALLY), do yoga (there are a bunch of yogis in this group - it's amazing), go to the beach and generally hang around to mentally decompress before the whirlwhind that is about to begin. We are here in the capital, Port Vila, for a week before we move to our training site in rural Emua for 9 weeks.

This country is so gorgeous. It really is a tropical paradise...and that means a lot considering I've only seen the capital, which is exponentially more 'developed' than the rest of the country. By developed I mean there is two roads, an internet cafe, and a grocery store. The vibe here makes me feel like I'm back in the Bahamas again but...better...cause this is where I live now.
There's a lot that's going to take getting used to, like not being able to walk alone at night, crossing the street when I see three or more young men in a group (even in daytime)...but a lot of those precautions are because we are in Vila AND we don't speak the language AND we have no idea where we're going so can't handle ourselves with...finesse. I also can't believe how DARK it gets here at night. Like when the sun sets at 6:30, I mean, it's SET. That's it. It's night. You can't see anymore. Amazing.

So...weather wise we were lucky and arrived on a perfectly sunny day that was oddly quite 'cool' for this time of year, even to the point of me wishing I had a long-sleeved shirt when we were out in the evening. The real heat begins tomorrow, probably...

So that's me. That's my story. I'll be out of the internet-accessible world pretty soon, so don't forget to snail mail me.

:)

Peace Out!

Okay kids!

I'm in the airport in Los Angeles...my flight leaves in 2.5 hours and I am pretty excited!

There was some drama getting here yesterday - left my parents' house in Thornhill at 4:30 a.m. on no sleep and then missed a connection because of a snowstorm in Chicago...was rebooked for a flight SIX HOURS LATER but thankfully got on a standby flight to L.A. after only two hours. Miraculously, I was able to recover my luggage (that did not come on the same flight as me), get myself to the airport, change into "business attire", and waltz in to registration literally five minutes before orientation began.

There's 24 of us here going - only 3 other Health Volunteers - everyone else is in Small Business, Forestry, Agriculture, etc. Everyone is really cool and we all get along well and even though we've only been together a day it already sort of feels like family!

I got to spend my last North American night out on the town with my oldest friend that moved out to L.A. a few years ago, so that was awesome. Savoured my Thai food out in Marina del Rey and trekked across town for Vegan Green Tea/Vanilla & Pistachio/Fig Ice Cream (so L.A)...

Unfortunately, I didn't make it out to Hollywood, but well...as a fellow trainee pointed out so aptly this afternoon...

"It will all be here when you get back."

So I found out that the village we're living in for the first nine weeks is called Emua - about 50 km away from the capital, Port Vila, on Efate Island. Roundabout Week 6 I should get my site assignment and have a little bit more of an idea of what I'll actually be doing out there for the next two years...

So, don't forget to write me at this address:

Amanda Prasow
Peace Corps/Vanuatu
PMB 9097
Port Vila
Republic of Vanuatu

Mail will take 1-2 weeks to get TO me, and about 2-4 to get from me to you...

I love you all!

Lauterbrunnen - March 9-11, 2007

A couple French guys, a couple American girls, and a Swiss with a broken arm pile into a rental car and head for the Alps...

Good times.


Click on my friends to see the rest of the trip...

Lauterbrunnen

I can't believe this is a for real place that I went to...

Backpacking Tour of Switzerland - February 22-25, 2007

Schwyz. (an itsy-bitsy village)

I had some time off. I bought a four-day rail pass. I took my Lonely Planet and headed for the train station. The next train that was leaving went east. East sounded good. For the complete album, click on the Valais couple below...

Suisse

For some reason I am really obsessed with this photo of this random couple in Martigny. Just looking at it I have come up with about four screenplay ideas and two novels. It's one for the vault.

An actual letter sent to Toronto via snail mail...

February 23, 2007 - 12:56 a.m.

Dear Parents,

By the time you get this, I will have safely made it home to Geneva...I hope. If I perchance go missing, you can start asking questions at the phone number on this letterhead. I have embarked on a four-day adventure with my backpack and Lonely Planet. Today was the first day, and I have headed east, staying south (Geneva is southwest) and stopping by Martigny, Sion & Brig - in the Valais canton, rocky mountains and vineyards... and am now in Ticino, the Italian region. I took the route that crosses into Italy for awhile cause I thought it's be fun to casually stop by Italy on a Thursday. I had thought to sleep in Locarno, but after wandering the cobblestone streets for two hours looking for suitable accomodation (long story), I concluded I had actually seen quite a bit of the city and as I was just about to check into a hotel across from the train station I noticed that a train was leaving in just two minutes - at 23:23 for Bellinzona so I took it. At first, the concierge here couldn't find the only key to the only room left in the only hotel open after midnight (who knew?) and suggested I just push a chair up against the door and hope for the best, but then he found the key and now I am safely locked in.

People here really don't speak English, which is the first time I have really experienced this. I have been getting by with either French, Spanish or some melange therein as the Italian before me struggles to give me directions. I have no set plan for tomorrow, other than to enjoy the warm weather in Ticino and explore some lakes & castles and then head up north towards Lucerne (central Switzerland).

My tentative plan for the trip that has no plans is to make a sort of circle around the country, hopefully stopping by Zurich (north), Basel (northwest border with Germany & France), then south to Bern - just a couple hours northeast of Geneve. My rationale is that I should make the most of my Swiss Pass and time available to get as far away from Geneva as possible in all directions, as shorter, smaller circles can be done on weekends and will obviously cost a lot less. That being said, I am just hopping on and off trains and buses whenever I feel like it so who knows what will happen.

I know you are probably having a heart attack reading this letter so...just be grateful I didn't tell you about it earlier. If I am going to survive Vanuatu for two years, I need to at least be able to travel alone in the safest country in Europe with a cell phone and a credit card on hand for emergencies.

To add to the adventure (this is the part you'll really love), I have made a rule that no accomodation is to be booked in advance, I have to just show up there and see - with the exception that I may telephone places if it is after midnight. I keep thinking this is a time I will look back on often when I am old. Even if the trip itself is uneventful and not particularly glamourous (here's hoping), I'll always remember that time in my twenties I wandered around Switzerland cause I felt like it. Now I will sleep. In case I don't make it back to Geneva, I love you!

Amanda

Bellinzona

Lugano

February 23, 2007

Dear Parents,

I am sitting on the patio of a ristorante in Lugano, just a stone's throw from Italy. I am about 20 metres from an oversized chess game in the Piazza, and the lake is just another ten metres away. I am awaiting my gnocchi and insalate verde. Rumour has it the Italians really know how to make pasta.

There is a chocolate factory just outside of town and I think I'm actually going to skip it in favour of getting north to Lucerne at a reasonable hour. I feel fabulous. I hiked all morning in Bellinzona, to the three 6th century castles that are officially UNESCO world heritage sites now. Man, they don't make those castles easy to slip into. So many winding roads and rocky cliffs up the mountain. I even found SHEEP on my circuitous route up! And saw a waterfall on the way down! I have had many mini-adventures cutting through private property to take pictures of people's interesting homes and vineyards.

It is funny because in Geneva, I am still a little bit nervous about speaking French but here in Ticino, I am so RELIEVED if I can speak French to someone so I can stop speaking sign language. I admit that Switzerland was never on my list of places to tour, but had I known how amazing it would be, then it would have been.

Today I used my wily ingenuity when the lights suddenly went off and I was locked in an elevator (alone) at the bottom of Castellegrande. I took pictures of the panel so the flash would give me some light and then zoomed in on the picture after to find the emergency and open-door buttons. For some reason, all it took was the 'open door' and I was freed.

Even my plain lettuce salad was great (must be the olive oil) and as I don't feel like rushing my gnocchi I may as well casually miss the next train north and go to the chocolate factory after all...for dessert. The adventure continues.

Love,
Amanda

Lake Lucerne

a postcard.

February 24, 2007

I am now sipping peppermint tea on a boat somewhere on Lake Luzern. I don't know where it's going but I hear it's pretty. I've gone from t-shirts and palm trees in Ticino to ski gloves and a tuque. Going to keep heading north!

Love, Amanda

Zug.

February 24,2007

This is a trip of doing things because I feel like it. I am about to have sweet & sour tofu at a Chinese restaurant on the waterfront in Zug, famous for the 2001 gun massacre in the local parliament - a shadow looming over the once squeaky-clean Swiss history of political stability and generalized peace & quiet.

Some would say I should be having rosti, raclette, or even fondue (though no matter what the Swiss say, it's really more of a French thing and we are too far east for anything but "Danke" and "Aufwiedersehen"). But I wanted sweet & sour tofu, and this is my trip where I get to do whatever I want.

I have done despicable things. I have marched past world-famous monuments in favour of photographing interesting-looking old people. I have lingered in towns with no official importance and happily watched "don't misses" from my train window. I have more than once taken longer to get to a town than I subsequently spent in it.

I have not bothered to look up the most basic of German and Italian phrases in my Lonely Planet. I smile politely and keep walking, no matter what any guy under thirty says to me. I assume he is always saying some form of "Hello" but I really would have no way of knowing. Though more than once people have looked genuinely confused as I walk away. Perhaps they are used to being completely irresistible or they have actually asked me a direct question like "Do you have the time?", in which case, yes, it would be odd to smile and walk away.

I realize now, with the exception of asking for directions, making transactions, and answering questions from curious locals who, I'm assuming, do not often encounter backpackers or perhaps women backpacking alone - aside from these brief conversations, I have not spoken for the better part of three days. Such silences are good for the soul.

I confess, at this moment, my stomach aches from eating Swiss...everything. My legs are tired from all the castle-chasing yesterday and the rain has put a bit of a damper on the wandering. In truth, I'd be quite happy to go home tonight! I've seen more than I ever knew I could have cared about in this country.

But, alas, a person doesn't just not go to Zurich, Basel, and Bern because they kind of want to curl up with tea and watch Two Pints. I feel like I've been reminding myself that "this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity" every two seconds lately. Either it really has been a year of unique opportunities, which of course it has, or once in a lifetime opportunities aren't as few and far between as I once thought. I feel less urgency...to live fully these days, as these opportunities continue to appear. I think this is a good thing.

To Zurich!

LATER

I am on the top floor of a double-decker train. Last night I almost slept on the top bunk in my hostel, even though I was the only one in the 4-person dorm (one advantage to being in the minority as a single female traveller, we'll see how that works in Zurich)...but the fitted sheet would pose a challenge so instead I climbed up to both top bunks to turn on their nightlights so the room would have a soft glow as I read myself to sleep. I am recovering a certain sense of...playful living.

The truth is, I have realized, I really just like the trains. I always have and probably always will. Yesterday I couldn't wait for the three-hour trek from Lugano to Lucerne. After a long day of hiking, followed by an afternoon of eating...

(You can't NOT have pasta for dinner in Ticino, just like you can't NOT try the pizza before you leave. And if you happen to leave both the pasta and pizza for your last two hours in the canton, well that is your own problem. And you can thank heavens that you went ahead and ate those biscotti and carnival cookies for breakfast at the hotel, otherwise you'd really be in trouble.)

Anyway...three hours north on the train, with a book, snacks, and my jacket rolled up for a pillow? I can't think of a better way to spend a Friday night.

Zurich

February 24, 2007 - 7:55 p.m.

I am having a Caramel Hot Chocolate (newest addiction) at Starbucks in the Old Town of Zurich. This was an emergency of the pen. Because when I am old, I must remember this night. Calm and content, with an undercurrent of excitement. I have been in this city not two hours and I have already fallen in love [ed's note - with the city - don't get too excited].

Proud of myself for finding my way here at a more-than-decent hour, I decided to stay the night because I was tired and sick of lugging around the backpack. I thought I'd find a cafe and curl up with my book, cause in MY opinion, that's the coolest thing I could do in Zurich given my energy level ...and the themes that have emerged this trip.

I came to Zurich because everybody goes to Zurich and comes back saying they don't see what all the fuss is about. So of course, you then have to go to Zurich to see, or not see, what, if anything, the fuss is - or isn't - about. Also because Dadaism came from here, and I dig post-war hopelessness and all.

But, yes, I confess; I came here not out of some deep personal yearning but because one should go to Zurich if one is in the neighbourhood, to see why people say it's the new Berlin, and also to see if it's really true that I'd be so conspicuously out of place in my jeans and hiking shoes among the upwardly mobile youthful elite.

I stepped out of the train station and immediately felt...enlivened. I have experienced this on occasion in New York, and I think possibly also in Paris, though not in London. Like the frequency was just...up a notch, like you could somehow get drunk off the vibration.

Proud of myself for finding my own way to the closest hostel, for once not in the middle of the night, imagine what went through my mind when the receptionist said,

"I'm sorry...well...it's just that we DO have one dorm bed left, but it's in 4-person room and three men are already in there."

It takes me a moment to react, as I suppose some part of me is actually considering this.

He waits. "So it's either that or a single room..."

"Okay...but how much is it for the dorm again?"

Yes, I am actually WEIGHING the options.

"33...but there are already three men in there." (in case maybe I didn't understand the first time.)

I suddenly remember it's only seven, and I've got hours to figure out what to do. I could just hang out for a bit and sleep in Basel as I had originally planned. But I already love this city so, and there is something about it
I am not yet ready to part with.

So I go downstairs and call around a bit with no luck. Just then the sketchy Spanish guy that has been lurking by the pay phone smiles at me yet again, and I consider that he could be one of the men in that room. And finally, after that five-minute delay, the voice of clarity inside me takes over,

"Remember all those times you wondered where the line was between a healthy thirst for adventure and...utter stupidity? Remember when you wanted to go home with that 40-yr-old boat captain you met in the Nassau airport cause he offered you a place to crash in Miami when you were stranded...because he seemed harmless and you had a five-hour conversation about God and Native American flutes? This is kind of like that time, except for worse, cause you don't even know the German word for 'help!'"

So I march back upstairs and promptly fork over the extra 36 CHF for a single room, fill out all the forms, and THEN the guy says,

"You know there's going to be a lot of noise tonight, right? I told you that?"

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah...because of The Carnival? You saw it, right? They're just getting started outside."

So THAT's what those people in funny costumes with instruments were all about. I truly thought I had just passed a particularly campy bar. For real.

But no, yours truly has wandered into Zurich on the only Saturday night of a 6-day annual carnival, where performers come from all over Germany and Switzerland with elaborate costumes and face paint to get drunk, play some trumpets, and party.

No one around speaks enough English/is sober enough to tell me exactly what is going on here, other than, "It's a party!"
and perhaps that is really all I need to know.

So then, for real, the hostel guy hands over a packet of disposable ear plugs with my room key. "Have a nice night."

And now I'm in Starbucks writing out the story of the evening that must be remembered. Even if nothing interesting happens to me for the rest of my life, I think I have already gathered enough memories to make me smile forever.

And so...back outside to the revelry! It is only 8:30, though it feels like the middle of the night, probably because I got an early start and this is my fourth city today...OMG one of the troupes just wandered into Starbucks in full gear, tubas and all!

LATER

It must be recorded that not ten minutes later I was dancing in a heated tent to a marching band rendition of "No Woman No Cry". The theme for this particular troupe was all-white flash suits and dreadlocked wigs...except for the one black drummer that had real dreads already. We're talking a sexy 20-something trumpet player jamming next to a 55+ woman on the tambourine. This is a festival for young & old alike. Seniors, kids, goth teens and urban professionals comprise all of these bands as well as the joyful revellers.

Bern

February 25, 2007

In less than an hour I'll be at Cornavin and I feel...grateful...to be returning. Grateful to have survived and to have had such an incredible experience. I don't exactly feel like I'm going home. I think I have finally just accepted that I don't have one, haven't had one for awhile, and won't have one for quite some time.

Today I DANCED onstage at the theatre in the largest Roman ruins in Switzerland, just fifteen minutes on the Inter-regio from Basel. And last Thursday...last Thursday, I had not. I had never woken up in Bellinzona, Lucerne, or Zurich. And now I have. So in that very simple way, if nothing else, I am changed.

And yet I know it lies deeper than that. Because when I think now of the two long and lonely years ahead, I just feel...ready. Like, there's simply no other way this life could go that would make any sense...

END OF TRIP.

Lausanne - One Fine Wednesday in February, 2007

I had the day off.

I took a train.

Can't argue with that.

This was one of the most interesting and inspiring experiences ever.
It's all exhibits by artists with no formal training that spent significant time in mental institutions or should have...examples include an intricate wooden cell wall that an inmate carved out with a spoon, and when that was confiscated, continued with the edge of his chamber pot. There were sculptures from a massive secret city built from GARBAGE spanning several hectares built by a Pakistani civil servant in India for YEARS before the authorities discovered it and subsequently decided to FUND it. Paintings, dolls, mosaics from people with Down's Syndrome, autism and a host of conditions unidentifiable in their time.

It's worth the flight to Switzerland. www.artbrut.ch

I realized later that this was a synagogue.

Somehow I ended up on a bus to the waterfront suburb of Vidy. Somehow I ended up just on time for the premiere of a French version of Hamlet at some outdoor theatre. Oddly enough, this would be the second time I'd 'wandered' into a French premiere of Hamlet in Europe, the first time being four years ago in Paris at Bouffes du Nord, where I got to sit right behind Peter Brook after he welcomed everyone to his theatre and his new production. Craziness.

All in all, a successful Wednesday.

Israel - December 17-27, 2006

To see more pictures from this trip, click on the album below...or stay tuned for the guided tour of my favourites.

Israel

Overlooking Jerusalem. First stop. Ominous shadow.

Jerusalem.

Jerusalem - Old City.
An office obviously abandoned some time ago...


Jerusalem - Old City.

One of my most bizarre experiences was witnessing this.
Apparently, all kindergarten teachers carry a gun.

Oddly enough, on this same road, we observed between 10-20 kids as young as three years old walk themselves to and from school, occasionally accompanied by a not-much-older sibling.

When we asked our tour guide about it, he shrugged.
"Israel is not the war zone they show you on CNN, and it's not like what you have in America.
We know which neighbourhoods are safe for our children and which aren't...this is a safe neighbourhood."



Jerusalem - Old City.
Crawling through nooks and crannies, my favourite part of Israel.


Mount Carmel. I loved hiking here.

Mount Carmel. One of our guards. Chillin' on the job.



Haifa. The Ba'hai Gardens. Peaceful energy radiates...for real.

Haifa. I am on the inside of the restricted-access gate to the gardens.
But it looked like the orange trees were in prison. It felt like a significant moment.

Tel Aviv. City hall don't look like much these days...

Tel Aviv. Rabin Square.

His assassination here in 1995 occurred just after the largest-ever peace rally held in Tel Aviv at City Hall (see previous photo). With lyrics to a pro-peace song still in his pocket, Rabin was shot just outside here. Some of the graffiti that erupted in the area was preserved on this wall. The largest scrawl here reads "Selichah", as in, "We're sorry..."


To be honest, it's been too long and I completely forget where this is. But the important thing is that four countries are visible from where I was. But really it's all just a bunch of mountains...you know?


Zefat. Ancient northern kabbalistic city in the mountains of the Upper Galilee.

This is apparently one of the most important synagogues in because important Kabbalah texts came out of here hundreds of years ago. It fits, like, fifteen people comfortably and as you can see is sort of run down and, well...shack-like.

A far cry from the ostentatious synagogues in North America, this was the first time I began to see the way a very different Judaism operates in Israel.


Yad Vashem. Monument for Theodr Herzl, the founder of Zionism a short hike from the Holocaust museum. The most important figure in Israel's history has a simple box and some rocks on it. See previous comment.


Beit She'an. Amazingly intact Roman theatre at this major archaeological site in the north.


Now a real archaeological dig happening now! It was so cool!

I found bone!


Yuda, our other medic-soldier. I became fascinated with photographing young men with guns when they appeared to be lost in thought.


Negev desert. I thought I was in Sandland in Super Mario III.
I then went on to spend Christmas sleeping in a Bedouin tent somewhere in this desert.


Just after the Dead Sea.
That's why I look so radiant.

When I first heard that six soldiers would be joining our trip for "cultural exchange", this pacificist yogi was sure we would have nothing in common. As it turned out, conversations with the soldiers proved to be far more interesting, stimulating, challenging and thought-provoking than wasting time with the legion of spoiled Canadian brats on my trip.

Just goes to show...

On or near some part of Mount Masada.


Palm trees.

So...that was my trip.

For someone who had never felt any emotional or spiritual connection to Israel, it was a very interesting experience. I expected to hate every moment of going on tour with 40 kids from Thornhill, so I suppose that became a bit of self-fulfilling prophecy. I expected to care more about significant sites like the Wailing Wall, which didn't really do anything for me, and less about random hiking trails in the mountains, which I became instantly passionate about.

My official reason for going to Israel was "to see what all the fuss is about". And I guess, in the end, I sort of saw it. Thought it has faded now, some aspect of that trip appeared in my dreams nightly for a full two months or so after, so that's something.

Anyway...onward, ho!