Destruction Derby...Almost

Recently I had one of the best driving experiences of my life.  As a boy I use to love to go to the arcade and sit in the auto racers, California Speed (or whatever it was called), and drive without rules and without fear of what obstacles were there.  I just did that in real life--except there were still obstacles.  All driving rules that had been ingrained in me since I was young were forgotten, actually only about 70%, but having to only follow about 30% of the rules makes driving such an adventure.  Of course there is the added difficulty of everybody else only following about 30% of the rules and constantly having to guess which 30% will be followed.  Additionally, there is the pedestrian factor; at any given moment in time a man, woman, donkey, or six year old child will step into the road to cross the street.  One particular road was just like driving a video game, especially on Friday mornings (nobody is out because it is their weekly sabbath).  We called it "the ditch," the Arabic transliteration is As-Salia, but it is basically a 1400 year old aqueduct that runs through the old city just below ground built entirely out of stone with various tunnels and bridges and dips and drops and twists and turns and perfect for enjoying a leisurely adventure drive.

As I was driving, weaving in and out of traffic, driving the wrong way on a one-way street, or otherwise just getting where I needed to go I thought of all the people I knew and realized there were those who would thrive driving without the rules and others who would go crazy and not be able to function without too much stress.  If the non-functioning stressed out individual was driving, I'd want to be anywhere but in that vehicle.  I realized it takes someone who has a more aggressive attitude toward life (and driving) and yet can enjoy the laid back lack of structure.  Because sometimes the rules matter and you have to stop at the intersection, other times you slow down long enough to see if there is traffic then drive straight through the red light passed the policeman standing in the middle of the intersection and its perfectly normal.  I love it.  Of course the down side is now that I'm back in America, my desire to do those things has to be held constantly in check by the thought of anal policemen and expensive ticket taxes as a result of a few little things called rules.  Jon and Rich, drive in Yemen, you'd love it, at least the times that aren't bumper to bumper traffic.  Mom, I'm sorry but don't even think about it, I'm not even sure I'd want you in the car because you might be freaking out a bit.


Its a lot less fun to watch, but a lot of fun to do, so here's to driving in 'the ditch,' cheers.

A Few of Many

Below are a few photos from my most recent adventure.  Its too bad they don't really do justice to it all.

Dictionary.com FAIL

In a recent search of dictionary.com I was told they couldn't find my word and suggested I had spelled it wrong. See captioned screenshot below:

Now you have to wonder if their suggestion seems just a little pointless...turns out I must have spelled it wrong because when I clicked on blue highlighted weblink of "deficit" as opposed to my original entry of "deficit" (see the difference?) it provided the real results.  Made me smile.

Lingua Franca

Lingua Franca is a language used by two people to communicate with each other, typically by use of a second or third language that is not the native language of either.  In the past French filled this role.  In todays world it is English.  Despite English being the current Lingua Franca I still feel like a 'lazy American' who can only speak English whenever I am traveling abroad.  In the last few years my passable Arabic has enabled me to travel and at least somewhat communicate with the locals in their native tounge.  Now, I'm once again traveling in a country where English is not people's second language, but their third or fourth or fifth so fewer people speak it.  Here French is the dominate language and try as I might, I can't seem to remember anything from my 8th grade French class--so much for public education.  Luckily, enough people speak Arabic that I can get by with that, but the dialect here is just different enough, that it's difficult to follow.  So alas, once again I'm traveling and find myself desperately wishing I could speak the dominate local language if only so I'm not pegged as not belonging and also because I want to know what people are saying...plus, I don't like fitting into the European stereotype of Americans being ignorant of other people's language and culture.  Alas, I don't think I can help it this time when the only French I know is 'bonjor' and 'oui' and 'merci'.  Guess I don't hate the stereotype enough to change it.  All those people out there who are fluent in two or more languages (emphasis on the more), I want to be you.

the shoe thief

Like many of you who have traveled I've learned to always pack enough clothing and such in my carry-on to survive an n number of days, if my checked luggage gets misdirected. This time I only had to last 4 days thanks to the generous people in the Cairo airport. I knew from the moment I got off the plane for my transfer flight that my checked bag wouldn't make the flight. What tipped me off? The large inefficiencies, the lack of a help desk, the confused employees, and finally the man that wrote my baggage claim number down so he could put it on my flight, yet didn't write down any flight info. My baggage became just one of a dozen numbers on his sheet with no destination. Four days though, no problem, as far as clothing goes. However, I only had the shoes on my feet since I packed my running and dress shoes in my checked bag. Minor annoyance since I had to work, and wanted to run during that time but my Sanak (*sandals not a shoe) managed to cloth my feet just fine.

This morning as I rushed out the door, looking business stylish except for my footware, I find my bag made it from Cairo. Excited to no longer feel self conscious about casual footware in a business setting I grab my bag open the zippered compartment to find nothing. A thief decided to co-opt my shoes into their wardrobe. At what point did they pull their fast stunt? In Cairo? In Sana'a? Somewhere in between? Only they know. I just laughed out loud and still smile as I think of the 3+ year old pair of shoes with holes in the soles that only looked good because I polished them right before my trip. I've been meaning to buy new shoes and throw the old ones out for 6 months...fate (and my friend) dictated the time is now. I hope my shoe thief is the most stylish man on his Cairo or Sana'a block and gets some mad props as a result of his newly aquired footware.