Petra, Jordan

Petra, Jordan

     No place I've ever traveled is quite as breathtaking as Petra. Amidst the Wadi Rum desert, and tucked away between sandstone walls towering above the sight of the sky, this world wonder is astounding. The sheer size of Petra is so massive it's hard to look up and see it in its entirety. The Monastery is a huge monument carved from sandstone at the topmost part of the site. I've included a picture at the bottom of the page so you can see just how big the monument is compared to the size of my body (it's almost quite comical how little I am compared to it.) My boyfriend and I went to Petra on a tour through Abraham Hostel. At this time it is not advised to visit Jordan alone, but not only that, it is almost impossible to get a visa into Jordan unless you are part of a tour group at the current time. I found the people of Jordan to be welcoming, friendly, and generous.
     I would highly recommend this two day trip I took with Abraham Hostel. The entire trip to Petra for both my boyfriend and myself was about 1500 shekels, which was about 340 dollars US per person. This does not cover the cost of crossing the border into Petra and the fee for getting back into Israel. I felt completely safe in Jordan for the entirety of my visit. The cost for this trip is nothing compared to how spectacular I felt Petra to be. If you are not familiar with Petra, or have never heard of this wonder of the world, I would refer you to what our guide and most people are familiar with; Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. They filmed this movie and numerous others at Petra. Although somewhat commercialized from the tourist who visit the park on a daily basis. We found Petra to be almost empty. Our tour guide said that foot traffic in and out of the country has slowed to almost a halt. With Jordan being neighbor to Syria, and the struggles with ISIS going on around the surrounding countries, Jordan has seen 60-80% cancellation within the past two years. This is bad for Jordanian economy, but good for a visit to Petra if you were looking to go. We were virtually the only people in the park, which made the experience all that more special. Last year my boyfriend and I were lucky enough to go to Machu Picchu in Peru, but in my opinion this was so much better than that. Not only because I felt the monuments were so well preserved and stunning, but because there was only a fraction of the people in Petra compared to Machu Picchu. If you are looking to go on your next trip, I would recommend Petra over Peru, that is if you are not afraid to take a little risk. The trip felt more special and personal.
     The treasury which you'll see in the first picture I've posted, is the most famous of the archaeological finds within the city. The Monastery which I've posted second is less famous, but much larger and more astounding and dramatic. But to see the Monastery takes a great deal of work. Unlike The Treasury, which is the first sight you see once you hike down into the park, The Monestary is a very laborious hike consisting of eight hundred steps. This doesn't sound like a lot, but trust me it's a doozy. I thought this hike would never end. The route you take just keeps going straight up, and up, and up . . . and up. If you are into hiking however, it's not that bad. Seeing one of the most incredible sights I've ever laid eyes on, makes the hike totally worth the exertion it takes. It's stunning. Better than anything you could imagine.
      Bring lots of water. I mean lots. You can't drink the water in Jordan, but there are plenty of places just outside the site that sell water bottles for 1 Dinar. The site was empty when we climbed those last steps. Deserted. What a magical site to see. I can understand why it's on so many people's lists as a place you have to see before you die. Until you go you won't know what I'm talking about. So go now. What are you waiting for? Invite me along if you'd like.

Love

S

I'm in this picture? Can you spot me? It's like where's waldo. haha. 

Israel, Jerusalem.

     Real life biblical history comes to life right before your eyes in Jerusalem. Words are indescribable as to how one feels while walking through the Old City and walking into their literal faith history. As a christian and God fearing woman, it wasn't just the christian faith that hit me so hard, but the unwavering faith of the Christian, Jewish and Muslim communities. There is in fact so much prayer taking place in this city, even if you do not feel the Holy Spirit or are moved by some higher force in the universe, it bring you to your knees at just how much you want to pray and be a part of it all. The energy within the city walls is an electric moving force. To say that this has nothing to do with how much prayer is taking place, would be a gross understatement. In my opinion the reasons I felt the way I did within the walls of the Old City was because of how sacred people take this place, and just how serious and devout their life to the Creator is. The bible isn't just words here. The bible is living, breathing texts, that flow out of people's mouth and into the living word of God.

     To see the faith that I read about in the bible on a daily basis, and to feel the sermons I've witnessed the past ten years of my life coming into sight, was unfathomable. As a christian woman I saw stories within a book not just stand in my imagination any longer, but come to life right before my eyes. The only thing I can akin this feeling to, is if anyone has read the Harry Potter book series and then physically gone to see the theme park in Orlando Florida. It's much more epic than this, but you get the basic idea. Participating and seeing where Jesus had lived and resided during parts of his life is quite a powerful awakening. 

       I felt overwhelming sense of happiness, elation, complete and utter despair, joy, sadness, contentment, nervousness, shame, and so many more emotions all at the same time. The magnitude of these feelings felt amplified to a great extent. To pray with others who so strongly believe brought out my utter assurance of God existence. My prayers seemed more pure and less selfish. Less clouded and distracted, more unified and precise. As a person who prays often, although I don't think I pray enough, I often find myself starting prayers in my everyday life and then another thought pops in and I disengage from the prayer and have to remind myself to focus. Not here. Not in the city. Especially not at the Wailing Wall.   

      Out of all my experiences with God throughout my life, this had to be the most moving. There is a substantial amount of woman and men praying at this wall. There is no way to describe just how I felt here. Instead I will describe the sensation on my fingertips when I approached the wall and touched the the stones with my own hands. The energy that shot down my arm was beautiful. 

     The entire experience calls to mind the phrase "Seeing is believing." In this city the exact opposite is true. You don't have to see Him to believe. He's in every person at that wall. 

     I know not everyone who reads this is christian, or even believes in God, but if ever you wanted to see him, maybe even just get to know him, I suggest a visit to Jerusalem. Even if you don't stumble into something extraordinary as I or others did/do on a daily basis, you just might be surprised at just how convoluted the feelings are. You might see something i never did. You might see something in yourself. As I wrote in every single postcard to my family back home, pack your bags now. Leave for Jerusalem and the Holy City immediately. It's the best place I've ever visited. God is great. God is good. God is alive.

Love

S  

Lima Peru

I was open and optimist about our recent trip to Peru. It was the first time travelling with my boyfriend Beau out of the country. We had our backpacks and a dream with us. We set out for the airport at 8 am and made our way down to what would be our first ever adventure in South America. 

     The Peruvian escapades started the second we stepped off the plain and into the terminal at Jorge Chavez International Airport. 

       The air that night was thick with humidity. My back and neck began to sweat from the heat. We took the liberty of exchanging some money at the airport kiosk, and made our way through customs. 

This was when all taxi driver broke loose. The second we had gotten through baggage claim and out the main doors, hundreds of people started shouting at us. Taxi! Taxi! Taxi! It was coming from all angles and sides. I finally understood what celebrities might go through while being mobbed by the paparazzi. It was sheer, unending screams. There was no right direction to look through the chaos. Instead, I looked down and followed Beau's feet past the commotion and into a subdued area just twenty feet from the main entryway. This was where a man in a black suit approached us. He asked too if we needed a taxi. He looked sweaty and overrun. Although my last name is Spanish I do not speak a word of it, this was all on Beau. The little Spanish Beau knew got us through our entire trip. He was speaking to Beau now after a firm no had escaped my lips. We had planned to stay at the airport that night because our flight left at 7 am and it was already approaching 11pm. I didn't think we would have gotten much sleep if we had stayed at a hotel and neither did Beau. We declined the man again and made our way back to the check in area for our next flight.
Unfortunately, you had to exit the airport and reenter on the other side of the main exit to check back in. We walked outside and were just about to make our way back into the airport when the man in the suit approached again. He was speaking to Beau again in broken English then in Spanish. I tried to advance, but the man stepped in front of me and began speaking again. Beau took 3 years of Spanish in high school and he tried his best to translate.
     Beau spoke to me saying, "I think he just said that the airport is closing at 2a.m. and they kick everyone out for repairs then." It didn't seem like a very plausible situation to me. Shutting a hole airport down for repairs, i mean, give me a break right? Who did this guy think he was messing with?
     "I do not think that is what is happening." Was what I said to Beau. "This doesn't feel right. I do not think we should get in any car with him."
    Beau was a bit more optimistic. "It would be better than staying at the airport all night. He says there's a hotel he knows of and it is not far from here."
    "Of course he would say that," i said, rushed in breath.
      It was as if the universe was telling us this was a bad idea, because no sooner had the words left Beau's mouth that a Peruvian police officer approached and started talking with the man. I didn't understand a word of what they said but the tone the police officer's voice sounded stern and upset. Beau and I stood by and watched the conversation unfold. After about two minutes, the police officer walked off. The man in the black suit looked relieved.
       He turned to Beau and started convincing beau that our only option was to go with him to this hotel. The hotel cost was only going to be 15 dollars US and that they would discuss the cab price later. He said the hotel next to the airport was "much expensive."
      After a while Beau was convinced this was our best option. I was reluctant of course saying to Beau flat out, "I am not getting in that cab."
     "Please, Sarah." He pleaded to me in exhaustion. This is our best option since you didn't book us a hotel. I am tired and so are you. Its only fifteen dollars."
     Feeling that I loved Beau and I at least had him to look out for me I reluctantly agreed to walk with this man to the cab. He took our bags and placed them in the back of his beat up car trunk. I climbed in the back of the car, Beau to my right side.
      We were off, careening down a black river of death or so it appeared. The way these cars swerve in and out of traffic would give any sort of normal person the hibbidy jibbidies. He weaved, he braked, jutted to sudden stops with no warning, accelerated to 60 kilometers down narrow streets. We were in and out and between huge semi's. I've never seen anyone get that close to other cars without getting hit. He slammed our bodies in every direction against his little black car.
       We came to an abrupt stop outside a dark shaded building. Gheto. Is what I thought. Gheto.
     Only the right passenger side door opened to let us out (we found in most places throughout Peru when taking a cab, this was true.) Only one side of any cab would open.
    He grabbed our bags and we exited the car onto a narrow dark street. There were hardly any street lights to see what we were really looking at. It just looked like a bunch of dark buildings shrouded in shadows. He led us inside. A small woman sat behind the front desk.The inside wasn't too bad. They even had some bottled water. He started to speak to her in Spanish and then back to us. 
      "Okay, my friend. She has key. 90 US dollars."
      "What," I said flabbergasted. "No, you said fifteen." 
      Beau started asking him questions in Spanish.The whole thing was ludicrous to me. My heart sank with this news. 
    "We are already here," Beau said, and he's not going to take us back." For the entire trip I had only brought 300US dollars.This clown wanted me to spend almost a third of my money at this hotel. I was livid. 
      I could tell Beau was a little intimidated, and I wasn't at level of brain stability to argue. We were both physically drained at this point and didn't have the resources within us to argue. I reached in the secret compartment of my bag and handed over the precious money to the woman at the counter. We bid goodbye to the cab driver after he promised to pick us back up at 5:30a.m. so we could get back to the airport for our next flight at 7a.m. We settled into our hotel room locked the door and lay down for some solid zzzz's. It was just around 12a.m. an hour later, Beau and I woke to a strange noise. At first we couldn't tell where or what the noise was coming from. 
     It took only seconds to figure out what these odd sounds were.
      It was moaning. Loud, intense, disgusting, moaning noises from rampant sex coming from somewhere in the hotel. The floors were solid tile.The noise reverberated through the hallway and echoed so loudly I am surprised it didn't wake up all the guests. It was moments later that a delightful whip cracking sound joined in. 
    This repugnant orgie lasted for 4 hours straight. I didn't sleep. Didn't move. I was so disturbed by the sounds that were coming from the hotel that I just stared at the ceiling and tried to block it all out. We got ready at 5 am. We left that hotel as soon as possible. When we walked downstairs and saw the cab driver sleeping in his car we tapped on the driver side window to wake him up. He asked us if we slept well. I looked at him with all the abhor I could muster and said, "NO!"

He took us back to the airport and the nightmare was over. The cab driver charged us 50 dollars US for a ride that was less than five minute drive from the airport. Be aware if you are traveling the cab drivers get commission for bringing ignorant Americans to and from the airport and getting them to stay at hotels.

Luckily the next part of the trip went smoothly, but at least I can write about it now and grow wiser from the experience.

Peace and love
S