It’s mid-morning and the merengue, coming from different corners of the village, reaches the porch where I’m sitting and makes me smile. One is fast and in my face. Another is slow and suave. Almost romantic. And the third one is medium tempo and just right. Across the street–the dirt road, that is–local men are…
I have some exciting news that I’m thrilled to finally be sharing with you. I recently finished writing my travel memoirs—a collection of stories about my journeys on 5 continents around the world over the past 11 years! What It’s About The book is about my trips off the beaten path and in the moment,…
Random travel moments are often some of my favorite ones. They occur anywhere and at anytime and often involve people whom you met because you just happened to be somewhere in a given moment. There’s usually a mini travel tale to tell, too. Here’s the first random travel moment I’d like to share as part…
Resting on my hammock, looking out at the turquoise water of the Caribbean, I eagerly awaited the sunset—and “la luna llena.” Sleeping on a tropical island during a full moon was something I’d always wanted to do and now it was actually happening. The sky slowly took on shades of crimson, gold and fuschia and…
When my Pakistani friend Ghazala invited me over for Ramadan (the dinner part) some years ago, I was hesitant. Sure it sounded like a possible off-the-beaten path adventure right here in NJ, but as a non-Muslim (Internet quizzes say I’m a NeoPaganBuddhistQuaker), I wasn’t sure how it would go. Also and perhaps more importantly, I…
It was my first night in Panama City and I was tired after my flight from Ecuador earlier in the day. It was hot and humid outside, too, meaning that I easily could have stayed in my air-conditioned room and not gone out. Wine Run But my friend Michelle and I wanted some more wine…
Manic mosquitos. Trippy turtles. A psychotic yogini and a violent storm. Wet Birkenstocks. Deadly waves slamming down on black sand. And of course, Pancho, the Pelican, who can still fuel nightmares if I’m not careful.
Ah yes, memories…of a mere 24 hours in Monterrico, Guatemala. Do they light the corner of my mind? Most certainly.
Wondering what the hell happened there, are you? Well, let’s pretend we’re at a hostel or in a bar having a drink and sharing travel tales. Tag–I’m it.
My hands come down on the once-soft animal skin, now stretched tightly over a tree trunk, producing a deep bass tone that momentarily takes me to West Africa.
The rhythm is familiar to one I learned from a Guinean master drummer once—one that would call upon the spirits of the ancestors during certain types of celebrations.
Yet as I follow the lead of my teacher, master drummer Jabbar, I’m reminded of the fact that we’re on an entirely different continent, playing drums with Latin names. I’m laying down a bass line on a primero and he’s soloing on a primero, which has a higher sound.
Sure I was a SWF in Syria, but I wasn’t there to meet men. In fact, that was the last thing on my mind.
So how’d I end up with with 2 husbands…in 1 day?
Well, it began quite innocently in Damascus, a city I fell for rather quickly.
I was lingering over breakfast in the hotel courtyard, enjoying the quiet and the cool morning air and reflecting on how much I loved the city and almost wanted to commit to him (it) and to stay longer, perhaps enrolling in Arabic course.
But I was feeling a bit torn….between him and his more conservative brother Aleppo (and the rest of the country).
“Want to help me find my camels?”
I was in Jordan—one of several Middle Eastern countries I visited this past summer—traveling on my own and loving it, but facing a few challenges due to the fact that it was the end of high season. While it’s nice to visit places that aren’t overrun with tourists, the down side is that you’re not always able to jump in on other travelers’ tours or to share transportation costs. There just aren’t that many options.
But as luck would have it, things just sort of fell into place—as they often do when I’m traveling. I was on the verge of committing to an expensive couple of days (I was going to experience Wadi Rum no matter what) when something wonderful happened…
One of the Bedouin guides I’d been talking, a man named Atayak, decided to invite me as his guest.
“I’m finished working for the season and I’m now officially on vacation. I just need to get back out into the desert and find my camels that I left there. Want to join me?” he asked. I would only need to pay for food, he said. He’s a camel racer, by the way.
