You Should Come Here Yourself...

Its 11pm, do you know where your kids are?? Mom, I am in Jerusalem, on a patio, having a glass vino listening to the sounds of the city. I don’t know what kind of wine it is though, because the bottle is covered in Hebrew.
Today was beyond exhausting, we visited the West Bank… We drove through Israeli settlements, and a feeling of guilt overcame me. I don’t know why exactly, maybe because I understand the politics of it- and seeing it in person was overwhelming. To be honest, my words and pictures will never do this place justice. You should visit Israel and Palestine.
I have been lost in a weird dimension of thought today, and I am sure I will just delve deeper into it throughout my stay. Right now, I am conversating with my Jerusalem ladies and we are all in agreement about this. Our lives have all changed already. It’s been one day.
I am just in love with travel. I am so addicted.
PS: The Jewish market is insane on the Friday before Sabbath!

Let me add to this…. We went to an awesome Armenian restaurant for lunch, the food was fantastic. I love it here because they always offer tea or Arabic coffee after meals. PS, Arabic coffee is very distinct; it is thick and most of the time very sweet. Our waiters were some hotties, like every other freakin’ guy here. Sheesh!
After lunch we toured an old Jewish neighborhood and the Jewish market. The market was insane because it was the Friday before Shabbat, and everyone was stocking up before the Ultra Orthodox fellows blew their horns at venders to shut down. It was a whirlind, but we got the number one ice cream in Israel while we went through the chaos. I got cheese and red berries, so yummy. But I couldn’t help but be distracted while enjoying my ice cream by the civilian teenagers who were carrying around massive guns like it was a shopping bag. How is this okay? It is hard for me to photograph this, purely out of fear. I did get some video however.
We went back to the hostel and got some dinner. After dinner and showers the girls and I got a bottle of wine and sat in the courtyard. We shared stories and secrets, really got to know one another. It is so cool to make new lifelong friends. I really love these ladies, we are creating memories that will never be eroded.

New Friends Experiencing Ancient History

2:15 am, flying out of Athina and into Tel Aviv. The red eye flight has an interesting group of passengers, all of which are not from America besides me and 3 others. I get lucky and have a whole row of seats to myself, which is great because I needed (and still do need) the sleep. I started to get comfortable when a head pops up from behind me.



“You know why this flight is so late?”



“Uh, no.”



I lay back down and start to doze off, but not for long. These crazy Greeks wanted to feed me breakfast. It’s a 2 hour (if that) flight at 2:30 am! Eggs, hash browns, yogurt and tea is served, and I must admit it was the best food I had eaten in two days. By the time I was finished the flight was about half over. I turned around and tapped the American who bothered me earlier and asked him if he knew about the Tel Aviv Beach. I had more than 12 hours to kill at the airport and was hoping it was close. This sparked a conversation in which he felt the need to climb over the seat and sit next to me. The rest of the flight we talked about history, psychology, dreams, rationality, languages, traveling… pretty much anything you could think of.



“By the way, what’s your name?”



“John.”



“I’m Jenna, pleasure.”



Once we landed, I met his two friends that were on the back of the plane once in the airport. Trey, a minister for a college in Greece, and Josh who is a high school Spanish teacher in Texas. Lovely guys, I felt at ease for once with strangers 10,000 miles from home. We went to passport control together, and after some hassling, from both French vacationers who were obnoxioulsy hitting on me and the Israeli security, I got through and into Israel. I left my new friends, and went in search of an ATM and coffee. I knew I had a long wait ahead of me, so WiFi, a map and money were oh so necessary. After a bit of wandering, I find the ATM, and what do you know my American friends are there! I tell them about my wait, and they tell me that I am silly and that they would gladly split a cab with me. Awesome possum, then I could drop my bags off at the hostel and roam the streets of Jerusalem instead of the airport, which was such an uncomfortable place.



You would think a cabbie in a small place like Israel would know the hotels, but Jerusalem is such a maze, even to the locals. After a lot of searching, we find my hostel and see that it is 2 blocks from their hotel! It is 5 am, none of us can check in yet. We walk up to the gate to get into the guesthouse I am staying at and meet Alfred, he lives and sleeps at the gate to this hostel. He is one of the nicest most genuine people I have ever met and his daughters name in Jenna too! He tells me that Jenna means "a little piece of heaven" in Arabic, and allows us to all stow our luggage in a spare room. We decide to try to find something to eat, but Alfred tells us we will not be able to because nothing is open this early.



We start walking towards the Old City of Jerusalem, the streets are silent and the weather is ideal. He was right, not a shop or café was open. The only people out, were religious persons praying or singing and the Israeli army patrolling. I took video as we walked through the old city and through a checkpoint where we had our bags checked and walked through a metal detector. I found it interesting to witness a orthodox Jew walk next to the detector and nobody said a word to him. We made our way to the western wall, which is unexplainable. Women are not allowed near the wall, so I wrote down a prayer and gave it to John, who smuggled it into a cozy place where it will forever stay.



The old city of Jerusalem at 5 am is something most people will never see.



I very much enjoyed traveling the country with John, Trey and Josh because they are history buffs like me. We walked and talked; exchanging facts and legends, putting pieces together and making memories. After a couple hours in the city, hunger was starting to win the battle. We headed to the YMCA for brunch. Such good food!! We ate from a huge selection of cheeses, vegetables, fruits, breads, meats, olives and beans. Fresh squeezed orange juice and delicious coffee to wash it down. Feeling glorious, we headed back to the hostel to meet up with their friend Jeff, who was staying with a friend the night before in Jerusalem. Jeff is a recent grad from Texas, and begged us to go to Masada. Masada was a topic during our brunch, the history there is ridiculous, and we all wanted to go.



http://www.israelnewsagency.com/massadamasadaisraelpalestine481021.html



It also worked out perfectly because I really wanted to swim in the Dead Sea, which Masada overlooks. Trey negotiates with Hani, a Palestinian cab driver on the flat rate for the afternoon in which he would take us to Masada then the Dead Sea and give us plenty of time to enjoy ourselves. After about 30 mins, we freshen up and head to the desert.



The drive to Masada was breath taking. The desert on my right, and the Dead Sea and Jordan to my left; camels freely strolling through the mountainous sands and date trees offer some vegetation to the scenery. Masada was an amazing site to walk through, I let my hand follow the walls and lead me to the next room. The view from the top, overlooking the desert, the Dead Sea and Jordan was spectacular.



The sun was starting to get to us all, and swimming sounded even more appealing. We met up with Hani and headed to the beach. My experience at the Dead Sea is too wonderful for words. The water is so dense and full of salt that you literally float on it. We covered ourselves with mud like the locals, and floated on our backs for what seemed like a life time. I have never been in this state of mind, sure the lack of sleep and desert heat probably had something to do with this… but dude! We were floating! After we showered the mud and salt off, we grabbed a chair on the beach and had a Hebrew beer before heading back to Jerusalem.



I passed out on the way back, but woke up as we were driving through a check point. It is so weird, but I am already starting to get used to these. The young guards sit in the shade with their massive guns up against the wall and stare you down as you pass by.



I tell the boys bye, and that I will see them tomorrow. The walk back to my hostel was hot, and I was close to dehydrating. I got lost for about 15 minutes, it was now 5 aclock and the traffic was buzzing past me as I tried to remember landmarks. I walk past this obviously American tourist and ask her is she speaks English, I never assume. She is explains to me that she too is lost and is desperate to find her way back to her hotel. The name rang a bell to me and I told her to tag a long with me and I would surely be able to help her. 10 long, hot minutes pass by and I find her hotel and also my hostel. Alfred greeted me at the gate and showed me to my room which was now ready. He calls me his daughter, we have a special bond.



Shower, then passed out.



I wake up to a banging on the door… It is my roommate Caitlin! The rest of the group has finally made it! I jump out of bed way too fast and almost fall down getting to the door. We head to the courtyard of the hostel for some dinner and a briefing. I just cannot believe this journey; I cannot wait to wake up in the morning.



Noura, a graduate student who came with us, was held up at the passport control for over 2 hours because she is Palestinian. We had an emotional discussion after dinner, and decided on a time to meet in the morning to tour with the Ir Amam. After dinner, Caitlin, Shannon, Rachael and I explored the hotel and surrounding area. These next ten days will change my life like the last two have, I have no idea what to expect…

Lions, Tigers and Snoring Greeks! Oh My!

I didn’t really know what to expect from Greece. I really don’t know all that much Greek history, culture or the language. I really only know like 3 words, ne-yes ti-what and poo-where. This would not get me anywhere. I also did not realize that I look like I could be from Greece. A red flag should have went up in Atlanta, when an old Greek woman was screaming at me,
“poo pas!?!?!? Poo pas!?!?!”
Some more greek I have no idea what she was hollerin’ about… so I looked at her and said
“milate anglika?” “do you speak English?”
She busted out laughing, absolutely hysterically, for like 2 minutes without taking a breath. Then continues to try to have a conversation with me… I just nod my head,
“ne, ne, ne… “
she keeps yelling “Poo!” at me, which I found funny…
“Poo?? Athina??”
“ne, Athina then Tel Aviv.”
She frowns, “Ohhh… Israel?”
“Ne.”
The conversation stops.
Once on the plane, I am surrounded by a Greek family, the dad sitting next to me. They even had their dog, Hercules, who pooped all over himself in flight. Appropriate, I thought. This man, I never caught his name, reminded me so much of Jose Cannon. The Greek version of Joe! Haha! His mannerisms’ and conversation entertained me for a while, until he fell asleep and this obnoxious snore roared out of him like a monster was trying to escape. He was a large man, and took up quite a bit of room, needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep. Maybe 20 minutes…
Once in Athina, I told my new Greek family goodbye, as they had to go give Hercules a bath right away. They offered me a ride to the Parthenon, but I preferred taking the Metro. I exchanged 40 dollars for 26 euro, checked my bag at the counter (5 euro) and purchased a day pass for the subway (8 euro). The Athens metro was very easy to figure out, the only problem I would run into is people trying to small talk with me. Unapproachable apparently is not my best look.
I got off at Monastiraki which was the 14th stop after the airport. Once above ground, I felt like I was in a Greek NYC. The beautiful sounds of violins and flutes filled the air, combating with the loudness of the people and vehicles. There is no such thing as traffic laws in Athens. Wow. Mopeds, vespas, cars, busses, and people all fought to get poo (where J) they were going. I adapted quickly, and almost got ran over by a bus. One thing I could not help but notice was the ridiculously good looking police force. They would stand in groups, texting, on the corner of streets. People text as much here as they do in Amerrrica. I got lunch at a quaint café on the street. My server, very handsome, and very polite, brings me extra espresso (I must have seemed out of it) and a delicious vegetarian Greek sandwich. I ate and did some work on my computer until it died. I then walked around for a couple hours, through some historical sites, the market, and the flea market. But my favorite part of the afternoon was simply lying on this wooden box thing, looking at Acropolis from a distance. This is where I would meet my new Greek teenage friends; Johny Papas, Iwanna Tsoub and George Tsoub. Johny came up to me and told me what I was lying on was filthy, I told him I didn’t care. I think they took a liking to me then. They sat down next to me and started to probe. Johny translated most of the conversation, Iwanna tried to speak English, and she taught me some Greek.
“Where are you from? England?”
“No, America.”
“Wow, America?? Where exactly in America??”
“Ohio.”
“Oh, in the south eh?”
“haha, no, in the north actually.”
“What’s Alabama like? I have heard good things.”
“I actually used to live in Alabama! It is nice, but I think the north is nicer, besides the weather.”
This intrigued them; we talked about weather, climate and education from here.
“It is so nice to speak English”, Johny sounded very relieved, “I hate the Greek language. I want to study economics when I get out of high school, but I think I would like to study in England.”
“I study economics! How do you feel about what’s going on in Greece right now?”
Iwanna looks at me and says,” I don’t understand.” Johny translates for her, and she responds,
“Oh! I want to be a kindergarten teacher!” lowers he hand to demonstrate a small person. “Little ones! And I LOVE Obama!”
Johny chimes in “Ya! We all love Obama! Has he changed anything where you live?”
“Yes, he has changed everything. What makes you guys love Obama?”
George doesn’t know any English, but he is nodding his head in approval as Johny tells him what is going on.
“Vision.”
“Yes, he has a vision.” Johny agrees.
At this point we get interrupted by a drunken thief asking if we wanted to buy a brand new “HP.”
“A laptop?”
“Yessssss, an HP! Hey, where are you from? Italy? Britain? Not here, you don’t speak Greek! But you do look Greek!”
Iwanna gives me a look. Johny puts his hand up and whispers, “he’s drunk.”
“America, ever heard of it?”
“HA! America!? What part!? F*ck America!!!!!!!!!”
We try to continue our conversation about politics and economics, but he just continues to scream how much he hates America, and hates Obama, and f*cks every American because they want it. Thankfully, the weather is as temperamental as the Greek citizens and it starts raining out of nowhere. The teens and I exchanged information and I headed for the metro.
I made sure the drunkard wasn’t following me by making some sharp turns, and again almost getting hit by a bus. The metro ride back was not fun. I started to feel overwhelmingly exhausted from not sleeping the night before, and the jet lag of 16 hours of flying. I put my foot on my seat to use my knee to keep my head from falling. This was apparently a horrible idea. I closed my eyes, I knew I had about 25 more minutes on the metro before my stop. This woman who was reading the paper sees my shoe on the seat and looses it!
“Insert loud angry Greek words here.”
Disillusioned, I just stare at her, not knowing how to respond. Searching for the words in any language, my mouth is not working. This seems like I am disrespecting her, she is still screaming and the lady to her right joins in. I realized what they are mad about and put my foot back on the ground, this silenced them immediately. I looked up and said “No hablo Greek.” Then close my eyes and put my head against the window. They begin to talk very rapidly. I couldn’t catch one word, but I sure did piss them off.
My plans were to catch the metro to another part of town, but at this point I felt battered and very tired. I needed sleep, my body was shutting down. I got off at the airport stop and picked up my bags and printed my boarding pass. I planned on napping, then grabbing dinner and shopping a little bit since my flight was not until 2:15 AM, and I told Roxanne I would buy her a Greek scarf. I napped on a bench using my bags as a pillow, and my scarves as a blanket. I woke up feeling much better, and ready to try Athina out again. But this was not in my cards. You see, once you get your passport stamped to leave the country, they don’t let you back in unless you fly back in. Yes, another argument occurred after my nap when I went in search for dinner and WiFi.
“So you are telling me I am stuck in this terminal until my plane leaves?”
“Yes.”
“Awesome, is there any food or internet?”
“No. you shouldn’t have gone through the passport check point.”
“My bad.”
At this point I had been through Greece’s security check twice; the boys there were feeling comfortable with me and laughing it up. One asked if he could go to Tel Aviv with me because he hates being stuck in Greece. I don’t blame him, no matter where you are, you hear the sounds of the violin… which after awhile, gives the atmosphere a very gloomy feel to it.
I roamed the terminal, feeling alone and bored. One nice thing about Athina is bottled water is only ,50 eruo, and there is a plethora of recycling bins, I’m on my 3rd bottle of water. I needed to find an outlet to charge my computer, but they sure are scarce. I FINALLY found one, and almost passed out with glee. I figured out my adapter, and here I am, sitting at an empty gate, snacking on peanuts and reminiscing. Still no WiFi.
Have love, will travel.

Creating Yourself.

http://www.alternativesmagazine.com/36/koven.html

http://www.alternativesmagazine.com/52/villoldo.html

New Endeavor

I am reaching this point in my life where I need to either go big or go home. Peek years, not based on societal norms, but by my own souls yearning. Something from within is trying to break free. I think this must happen to everyone, some are just better at ignoring the voice from within. I listen to my inner self, which sometimes makes me seem indecisive or maybe a little too idealistic, but it is still me. Through meditation and a mantra I borrowed from a friend I found an energy to stay in school, for now. I recently felt that I had gotten all I could from school, I have learned a lot these last 5 years, but there is still more opportunity there. I see this opportunity unfold right before my eyes within a matter of 36 hours. Right as I had started to give up on this educational system, something presented itself to me.

Now, normally, I would give up on this right after I got my hopes up. Anything that costs money seems only a dream to me. But luckily, I have matured these last few years to the thought that I can do whatever I strive to do. My best friend fuels these desires with options, ideas, and a valid opinion. This combined with a push from the universe and I really feel that I can make it a reality.

So here I go, lets try at least. I have been asked to join a selected group of 8 students to study in Jerusalem, Isreal. Each student is studying something different, yet we are studying as a group. This is possible in Jerusalem, so full of culture and diversity. I will be practicing photography and journalism, I will be the only student studying either of these things. This tour is so unique in that way, it really creates a niche for me that I would never normally be able to encounter. I will come home with an intense and strong portfolio, and a new way of thinking. I cannot even imagine what it will feel like to walk the streets of a city I have heard about since childhood.

Livin' The Good Life

It is easy to let the cold winter months get the best of you. I know I have recently. It is important to keep yourself grounded and centered, getting swept up by life conditions is the easy path. Frustration, anxiety and self loath are easy emotions to feel. I found myself recently getting swept up by outside forces, forces that are really not that strong in their entirety. I had to remind myself, what real life is. What real frustration feels like. The path to my re-awakening started with a link sent to me by my friend Brownski.
http://www.worldpressphoto.org/index.php?option=com_photogallery&task=view&id=1730&Itemid=257&type=&selectedIndex=11&bandwidth=high
I looked through these amazing, eye opening photos and was taken back by how selfish I had become. Me, me, me. haha, funny how easy it is to slip away from reality.

Next, I started reading some magazines and flipped through some books I have about developing countries. My heart hurts for this world sometimes, but educating myself along with the growth of the Internet fuels my desire even more. Globalization and technology have both expanded and deadened our consciouses. With articles, stats, pictures and videos I can see and almost feel the other side of the world. But still cannot find the best way to impact it in a positive and driving way.

Tonight I watched the documentary The Reporter, it is about Nicholas Kristof. He is my personal hero, and watching this film inspired me again. The hope I had lost came back through his experiences and compassion. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vSsHMSuX6t0

This documentary is on HBO on demand right now, I urge ya to check it out.

If it inspires you, maybe we can talk. In the mean time, check out my Skreened store, all the profits go to Kiva.org

Never heard of Kiva? Check it out!!

http://skreened.com/ducksauce/livin-the-good-life

Portrait of a Culture
For this project, I really wanted to step outside my comfort zone. Exploring the world of photography has really helped me broaden my horizons. Last weekend I visited The Easy Riders Convention at Vets Memorial. When I first walked in, I was a bit overwhelmed. I walked around clueless until I finally worked up the courage to ask my first sitter to take a picture. The more pictures I got, the more comfortable I felt. After about 20 minutes of wandering around I came across Rich “The Lube Guy” from Quaker Steak and Lube. I got to talking with him, and he took a liking to me. He told me,” I studied Art back in the day, back when a 4 finger bag of weed was 15 bucks. You know dear, we didn’t have scales back then.” I decided I liked him too. The rest of the show, he escorted me around and introduced me to everyone! I quickly went from lost college student to VIP photographer from The Ohio State University. I am very satisfied with the outcome of this project because I ended up capturing an entire culture. At the end of the day, I asked Rich “The Lube Guy” what one word he would use to label his people. His reply, “There isn’t one word, all I can tell ya is, don’t let the gift wrap fool ya.”