The best year of my life...

....was, without a doubt, 2006 (although rumor has it 2007 will be even better...).

On the face of it, this might seem like a stretch. Certainly, 2006 was not without change, upheaval, even turmoil in my life. After all, my ex- and I initiated divorce proceedings in 2006, and this was (and is) unquestionably hard. I moved half a dozen times, stayed in three times that many homes, and have basically not stopped living out of a suitcase for the past four months.

But what a ride it's been. I've been to 20+ cities and traveled tens of thousands of miles on a few dozen airplane rides, to the Middle East and Mediterranean Europe and back and forth between the East and West Coast of the United States. I've visited with, and made, dozens of friends in countries around the globe.

I've studied five languages (Arabic, Turkish, Greek, Italian, Spanish), learned three tongue twisters in Italian, a handful of bar pick-up lines in Turkish (hey, you never know...), and got a free cab ride from a driver in Amman, Jordan after chatting with him about his family in Arabic. I've tried exotic dishes, from escargot in brown sauce at 7 a.m. at La Boqueria in Barcelona, to barbecue cooked under rocks in the sand by Bedouins in the middle of the desert in Jordan.

I've smoked hookah pipes and sipped arak, raki and campari. I've belly-danced, Greek-danced, lindy-hopped and attended a "no talent talent show" featuring smokin' hot burlesque dancing. I've ridden on the back of motorcycles and scooters up the cliffs of Greek islands, along the seacoast of Napoli, past the Colosseum in Roma.

I've been skiing in Tahoe, been on a silent yoga/meditation retreat in the Santa Barbara Mountains, and soaked in hot tubs in at least four states on both coasts. I've sipped champagne on a hillside overlooking Rome, and on a terrace overlooking Napa Valley Wine Country.

What I can I say, life is sweet...

I became the consummate California girl in many ways, shocking for a born-and-bred East Coaster. I took up yoga, meditation, became a vegetarian (in fall 2005), got a life coach and a spiritual advisor, dressed up for Halloween in the Castro, swam in my bikini in the Bay with the president of the Board of Supervisors from SF (also fall 2005, but who's counting??).

I shopped at the Ferry Building Farmers' Market, Trader Joe's and Chinatown and tried smoked tofu, tofu chocolate mousse, tofu scramble. I also incidentally became a temporary carnivore again overseas so I could try delicacies like moussaka, schwarma, and pasta carbonara at the source. (Life's too short to be too rigid and to make too many rules, either, IMHO...)

It has not been a dull year, not for one second...

The greatest part of the journey has been what I've learned about myself. I am one fun, adventurous chick, and to my own apparent surprise, pretty fearless. Or okay, let's be real, I still feel some fear sometimes ~ it's hard to cure a lifetime of neurosis overnight ~ but it doesn't stop me from doing what I want to do.

In the words of the guru of one of my favorite writers/spiritual seekers, Elizabeth Gilbert: "Fear, who cares?"

I am getting more Zen as I age, even as I get more adventurous, and I love that. You might as well remain calm while you're flying down a mountain, navigating your way around a foreign city, or landing a new contract with a government somewhere around the world.

This is not to say that I don't have my occasional petulant "moments" when the ski boots don't fit right or the backpack feels cumbersome after hopping on the second train of the day. But then I never said I was the Dalai Lama, just a more Zen me, that's all.

If you know me well enough to know my past, you know that I have always been an overachiever, and generally pretty tough on myself. This year I learned to let go of my need to be "perfect," whatever that means, and to be willing to live a little more, risk a little more, just have a helluva time in the grand adventure of life.

I've learned that there isn't one "right" way to do things, and that making mistakes is what we're here for anyway - to learn, to grow. To have some fun, for chrissakes! It has been a fun ride. It is a fun ride.

This past year, I also stripped away all the labels that I thought defined me. Adrian's wife. Troy community leader. Lindy-hop instructor. A+ perfectionist. Harvard and Princeton graduate. Try this as an exercise sometime. Who are you if you are not your job, your relationship, your pedigree/degree(s), your contributions to the community?

Maybe you're crystal-clear on who you are already without these markers - and if you are - God bless! I wasn't. I'd never stepped away from them for long enough to ask who was I underneath it all - I was always too busy frenetically doing, so rarely stopping to take a breath, so rarely just being me.

What would it mean to just travel and just be me? Who is Lisa underneath all the labels? That was my journey this year, really - figuring out who I am when I'm not defining myself by all the external factors in my life. Luckily, I really liked what I found!

I have found in myself what I thought I was looking for in someone else: Courage. A sense of adventure. Passion. A wicked sense of humor, and a real appetite for joy and fun. Abundance, in the universe, and therefore in me. Inner peace and calm - Lord knows I used to look for even that externally and have finally figured out that that, too, comes from inside me. All this, in one cute-little-redheaded package that looks good in a bikini.

Hell, I'd date me. (All this, and humility too!)

Ha! In all seriousness, though...

The good news is that my life is full and fun and exciting and abundant, full of wonderful friends around the world in amazing countries, and adventures and joy and love and peace, as it is now. I pretty much have a rockin' life. I'm one lucky woman. I am honored to know so many beautiful people!! I am beyond incredibly blessed to have all of you in my life.

Everyone should have it this good.

Next year, mind you, will be even better... In'sha Allah. I do believe there is a greater force that guides us (call it God, call it love, call it Allah, I think God responds to prayers under any name as long as they are from the heart), and that we also have the power to influence how our lives go, to create what we wish for in the world, and at the very least to always choose our attitudes about what happens in our lives.

I have a lot of work projects that I'm exploring right now that I'm excited about, homes on both coasts of the U.S. (Troy and San Francisco are both home for me, still, in various ways), a zillion friends.

I have my health, my happiness, my ability to dance. I am blessed with an amazing family - I wouldn't be half of what I am without them. I have the world's greatest life coach. I have passions and interests and skills and degrees and financial means, and the ability to give back in the world.

What more could I ask for???

I'll think of more to ask for, I'm sure, by following my heart this year where it leads me, by doing work in the world that I'm passionate about, by exploring and continuing the grand adventure.

Hope my path leads me to you this year. Be in touch. Send stories. Send love. Be happy.

Life is too short to not love and value every day. May you be blessed with joy every day of your life.

I'll close with some wise words from Gail Blanke, personal and executive coach and author ~ These words helped launch me on my journey this year. "Stop measuring yourself based on how much you get done in any given day, and start celebrating yourself based on how much you discover. Let go of being the world's greatest efficiency expert and embrace the role of lover and adventurer."

Amen!

Peace and love,
Lisa


p.s. One of my favorite songs from my childhood, "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles is playing right now on the stereo (my mom used to play it for me when I was a little girl):

"Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter,
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been clear...."

May you have sunshine this winter, and may light shine in all the darkest seasons of your life. I've had some dark days this year too, but I find that the sun always shines again.

If things aren't as bright in your life as you wish they were right now, I hope you'll remember the change of seasons, and reach out to me and other friends and let us buoy you up - as so many of you have done for me, too, this past year. Bless you for it!

To everyone who has sent love, given love, shared kind words, shared hugs, and boosted my spirits on the tough days, helped me remember pleasure, danced with me, showed me your city, celebrated with me, or just listened when I needed to talk, for all who hosted me and made your home mine for a few days - love you right back!

You are all welcome in my home(s), welcome in my life and in my heart, always.

"Little darling, I felt that ice is slowly melting..."

© Lisa Powell Graham 2006

Tutto il mundo e un paese...

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
~"Seasons of Love" from the musical Rent

I know the moments I will never forget from this year ~ bellydancing to Arabic pop while glamorous women in hijab cheer me on, saying, "Hot, hot!" ~ having my Bedouin guide Mahmoud place prayer beads in my hands as I meditate in the Bedouin museum and tell me "I feel something very strong about you" ~ climbing the cliffs to survey the royal tombs carved into the red rock in the lost city of Petra ~ lounging on cushions, smoking a hookah pipe and drinking apple tea as I watch the sun turn the water golden and silhouette the minarets at the Golden Horn in Istanbul ~ watching the Martha Graham Dance Company perform their interpretation of Greek myths in an ancient ampitheatre at the Acropolis in Athens ~ zipping past the Colosseum, illuminated at night, on the back of Antonio's scooter my first night in Roma ~ eating a whole pizza, the best of my life, from Pizza Man with Giamba in Firenze ~ gazing over Mt. Vesuvius and the hillside homes of Napoli with il mio amico Mario ~ drinking Campari in Barceloneta by the sea and telling jokes with Matteo in six languages ~ Life feels dreamlike and magical when I think about all I've experienced, lived, felt, tasted, seen in the past few months of my travels ~ unforgettable.

And then there is today. The sun is streaming through the window; outside is the whir of a leaf-blower as the neighbor rounds up the fallen leaves. It is November in New England and I am home. Whatever home means... I'm back from my travels overseas, staying at my parents' house in Western Massachusetts for a few days before heading to my beloved Troy, New York, then back to my other favorite U.S. city, San Francisco, for a while. I've just returned from a few beautiful days in mile-high Denver, Colorado, and before that, Boston. And of course, before that, Barcelona...

It is a bit of a shock to the system to be stateside again. My days are no longer filled with wide-eyed wanderings through cobbled streets and side-alleys, soaking up sunlight and the spectacle of street performers and the pulsing beats of music in other languages, drinking wine and campari and tasting sweets and seafood in tasty Catalan preparations, letting it all fill me...

My days here are filled with friends and family, another kind of beauty. The days are still slow and relaxed although I'm starting to feel the impetus to be on the go again. It's pretty unavoidable here in our work-work-work-driven society, where I need my daily meditation practice to keep my sense of calm and peace.

I came home early to celebrate the life of someone I love who has passed on (Sue Williamson, the director of my graduate program at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government), to see my dear sister Carrie off before she flew to Mexico for a few months, to visit with some old family friends, and to wrap up some important business in my own life before resuming my normal work-a-day life. This means of course that my immersion program in Spanish was delayed, to be pursued instead most likely in 2007.

Sometimes it's just more important to be with the people we love than to pursue our adventure plans - and there is a lifetime yet to fulfill those anyhow. I have many to fit in - how and when, we shall see - Que sera, sera.... Venga lo que venga!

It seems fitting that my return home for Sue's memorial service at the Kennedy School brought me back to the space, place and people who inspired my travels in the first place. It is the Kennedy School that brought me 216 friends from around the world in my amazing MPA class. I am still knocked out daily by who these people are and how they give back to the world; I have never known a more inspiring, giving group of people.

It was my beloved friend and classmate Salma's wedding in Jordan that gave me the inspiration to head overseas this fall, and the friends who live along the Mediterranean corridor who gave me the further inspiration to follow the map through five more countries, following my heart on a journey that ultimately inspired me, changed me, made me more completely me.... A journey that reconnected me to my passion for languages, learning, people from around the planet, that reawakened my desire to truly be a global citizen and to give back perhaps in a larger sense than I had envisioned before.

I traveled to learn about the world and ultimately learned about myself; isn't that how it always goes?

All around me at Sue's memorial, my classmates, including public servants, heads of NGOs, military leaders, of all ages, colors, persuasions, pulled out kleenex to dry their eyes; no one was left unmoved. A group of a dozen of us got up to sing a song for Sue, which was a request she made before she died. We led the packed auditorium in singing "Seasons of Love" from Rent. Sue called the song, "How Do You Measure A Year."

This song asks us all that question, gives some possible answers ("in daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee, in inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife") and ultimately answers that you measure it in love.

I'd agree with that ~ The moments I will remember on my travels were connections with other people, forming bonds of love and understanding across cultures. The moments I will remember back here at home are moments with friends as we mourn Sue's loss and celebrate her life; time with family back in Massachusetts; time with beloved friends in Colorado; visiting with the community I love in Troy and my posse in San Francisco, which I look forward to doing soon...

My travels changed me and raised new questions for me about my work and larger purpose in the world. I am thinking seriously about ways to translate the work I have done and my studies in public policy and urban affairs into the global environment. Could there be a way for me to do work with other cities internationally, and also use my language skills and learn about other cultures in the process? Absolutely, there could, it's just a matter of when and how I would like to create this ~ Many questions to answer here stateside first, too....

Our lives are what we make them, how we choose to create them, and how full they are, how technicolor, how full of love and adventure, laughter and magic, is entirely up to us. I'm so filled with energy and inspiration again, that kind of happy energy that makes you want to do cartwheels around the room, after my travels and feel ready to channel it with force into the world again.

The questions of how, where and when exactly everything will work for me are yet to be answered, but I'm not worried. If travel has taught me anything, it's that we need so little to get by (a little food, a little clothing, some sunshine, love and friendship will do!).

Charting your own path is never easy, but always worth it - Follow your heart and your path will be the right one for you. I truly believe that, and want to continue to live that in the world.

I feel brimming with the spirit of adventure that defined this particular journey through six countries for me - I know there are many other adventures ahead, and I can't wait to embark on the next leg of the journey.

Lots of love to all who made it possible for me along the way.... And to those who are reading my stories, thanks for sharing the journey with me.

p.s. Tutto il mundo e un paese! All the world is one country. I think that is my favorite expression from along my travels - The further I go, the more I learn how much we are all alike, and how the future of this world depends on us all. I am lucky to be able to just play my part and I look forward to all the coming adventures....

To be continued.....

© Lisa Powell Graham 2006

Barcelona - un gusto de Gaudi, un sabor de Miro...

"This tree next to my workshop, this is my master." So said master architect and artist Antoni Gaudi, whose Sagrada Familia has a cathedral interior based on the vaulted canopies of the forest.

Here in Barcelona, I am living only two blocks from La Sagrada Familia, that beautiful monstrosity, the most audicious and outrageous work of public art and expression of religious faith that I have ever seen...

Gaudi just makes me laugh out loud with joy and wonder at his sense of humor, deep faith, homage to nature, his sheer bravado. The top of the cathedral features stalks of corn and grapes and peaches and the word, repeated over and over, "Sanctus."

He drew inspiration from trees, leaves, honeycombs, birds, flowers, fruits, vegetables. And from light - I am amazed at the way his buildings are illuminated, the grace with which he harnesses the natural light.

He said about La Sagrada Familia, an ongoing masterwork of art and architecture started over 100 years ago and scheduled for completion in another 20 years or so, "Look at the top! Doesn't it just look as though the earth joins with the heavens? This burst of mosaics is the first thing sailors arriving in Barcelona will see. It will be a sparkling welcome!"

There is not a single straight line in La Pedrera, one of Gaudi's other masterpieces on Passeig de Gracia, which I also tour. The roof is simply splendid, mushrooming with towers and faces and spires and spirals, and who ever thought of making a roofline wavy anyway? Who ever thought to make a roof ornamental, indeed, vs. just somewhere that pigeons land or somewhere to hang the laundry?

Gaudi, that's who, his roof is necessary, not pedestrian as roofs usually are, just a building top, but instead pure art and lush design, and where else could you so admire the Barcelona skyline but from between his undulating rooflines... I'm in love with this roof... And we have not even talked about his Casa Battlo, Dio mio...

Here in Barcelona, these Catalan streets are still haunted by the spirits of Gaudi, Miro, Picasso...In a few short days, colorful, off-beat Barcelona has turned me upside down and inside out and made me laugh out loud and stand stock still in awe....

Pablo Picasso, what can I say? Who could be more playful and prolific? As his museum would testify... You can see here in this 15th century castle comme museo the evolution of the man who would later create Guernica - You can see it in his black and white study of "Las Meninas," one of 58 exhaustive studies of "La Familia de Felipe IV" executed by Picasso from December to August 1957.

You can see it in "La Joie de Vivre" also known as "La Alegria de Vivir," although the subject matter is different, the happy little goats, the pan flute, the voluptuous nymph. You can see how alive he is through his art and how the world lives here through his canvases - You can see what is to come...

I walk out of the Picasso Museum and the whole world is brighter and I see it in new frames, with new eyes - I take pictures at odd angles just for fun and am captivated by small details, a plastic flower on a balcony, trays of chocolates garnished with candied fruit in a shop window, laundry hanging on a pink pastel wall.

I feel a little crazier here, more inclined to take risks, knowing these artists did this and see what happened to the world?

I even dress myself like a work of art in Barcelona. This morning, I put on a simple black outfit with a low-cut black top, down to there, because these are the ultimate melons in nature anyway, this part of the woman - beautiful, no? Why not let the world admire sometimes... I wrap my hair in a bright red scarf and put on red lipstick and black eyeliner.

I am in the city of Miro. I am in the city of Picasso. How could I not treat my body as a work of art too, here where the figure of the woman was also admired and loved in art... I think of the joyous high round breasts of the nymph in Picasso's La Alegria de Vivir and figure I am dancing the streets in this spirit...

It's fun to do this and fun to walk around as if I am a roving piece of art. Everyone on the Ramblas does and is this anyhow... And it's comforting to be comfortable enough in my own skin now that I understand that some will love my display and exclaim, "Mama mia!" as some men do along the way, and some will ignore me because perhaps they prefer Cezanne to Miro, brunettes to strawberry blondes, whatever. I don't take it personally.

Some people love plums and some bananas and I am a pomegranate (bright and colorful, full of surprises, planting seeds of joy, better once you unwrap me!). Anyway, I revel in the beauty that God gave me as just, well, ME, pure Lisa, and have fun showcasing that here in this colorful city...

Here in Barcelona, I practice my Spanish but also check out the menus in Catalan. This is a place where your "X" Scrabble tile could actually win you big points, as this seems to be the middle letter of every word in Catalan. I don't pretend to have a handle on this language yet at all but it is seemingly a mix of Spanish and French and something more medeival.

For lunch I try "txapela" and "bikini txapela" at a Catalan tapas place; yesterday had "El Menu del Dia" at La Llesca, a mom-and-pop operation run by a family in Paseo Gaudi, which featured two plates - tostaditos con chorizo y tomate and albondigas con salsa, champinones y patatas, along with vino tinto, pan and flan - one of my alltime favorite desserts! - all for 10 Euros. Wow...
I am haunted by the city and still have not even lived it yet, i.e. haven't yet experienced "Barcelona by night" - although tonight I will treat myself to un paseo along Las Ramblas, and tomorrow to the Boqueria market I go! I will also visit Gaudi's house in Parque Guell tomorrow - have already been to several of his other houses and of course his masterpiece, La Sagrada Familia.

I can't seem to get enough of Gaudi... I just want to be consumed by his eclectic humorous sacred gorgeousness, to live in the organic-ness of his art....

Here the city really is a work of art, Modernisme, Catalan style art nouveau, and I am so grateful for it... I am reminded again how much the city is a passion of mine, the city as organism and eco-system, and I wonder as I walk how the city has evolved and is evolving now, what is its soul and nature? who are the spirits living and dead who roam the streets now? how do the people live and worship, what are the colors of the city by day and night, how does the afternoon light fall by the sea... Another city to fall in love with...

So you see, I am fickle, so quickly enamored of a city in Spain. However. You must understand though that my love for Italy is boundless and inexplicable, and I barely even saw the country - yet I felt it and tasted it and drank it in in a way that changed me in a few short weeks. What country could possibly be more sexy than Italy?

I don't think there is another place on earth sexier than this - the country is shaped like a woman's high-heeled, thigh-high boot for God's sake, kicking the island of Sicilia as if she has nothing better to do. I want to just kick some islands in my thigh-highed, high-heeled boots too when I am in Italy...

The day I leave Firenze, I am so sad to go. But all of my last moments there feel perfect, as they should be - I admire the graffiti of Jesu, spray painted in gold with "L'Uomo" on a stucco wall. I have a foccaccia dell'ouvo and a tortina della nonna, my last sweet in Italy for now.

It is the perfect sweet to end my two weeks there, symbolic for me somehow since I hope to be a nonna (Grandma!) someday and because it has a creamy sweet ricotta filling - My weakness here is for the milky, creamy sweets. The country of gelato. Heavenly. Also, in the U.S. we would not call this "the little cake of the Grandmother" - even the name of the dessert is sweet for Chrissakes!

Oh! And bow-tie pasta - here it is called farfallino which means "little butterfly." Little butterfly! Poetry in my mouth! My favorite gelato flavor is of course Bacio, which means kiss, and which is creamy chocolate with hazelnut. (Now, if you want to win my heart, sweet slow romance, perhaps a nice red wine, and anything with chocolate and hazelnut will do it....)

Italy is pure romance, where they name my favorite gelato flavor after a kiss - And with apologies to Spanish where we say "todo bien" nothing makes me happier than to hear the voices singing, "Tutto bene! Tutto bene!"

All is well - Of course it is - How could I possibly ever leave this country...

Vedi Napoli e Poi Muori - "Visit Napoli and you can die," so goes the Italian expression. I heard this from multiple Italian friends and it seems that I can't miss this place on this trip. So. I go. I see. I sigh... I meet Mario.

I don't really know what to say about Napoli, except, GO, and what to say about Mario except that I am happy to know he is alive. It was one of those days and one of those times when you just feel so grateful to be here, now, in the perfect moment.

Mario and I rode his Harley Davidson all over Napoli and watched the sunset from Parco Virgiliano and then checked out other stunning vistas of this historic and beautiful city on the sea. Napoli is perhaps better known to American tourists for its long history of organized crime or for not being the safest tourist destination in Italy today.

I can't speak for others but for me it was a friendly and beautiful place. I got to experience it through the eyes of someone who loves the city, which was such a blessing, and I understood why the Italians love this city so much.

We met at Castel Dell'Uovo as a simple stroke of fate; I had headed to a restaurant to grab some pizza and they were closing. Mario was leaving with members of his brother's wedding party (his brother was married the night before - Mario had been up all night and then spent the next day showing his brothers' friends from Milan the city - and then showed Napoli to me!).

We met, and he offered help me find another place to try Neopolitan pizza, and to show me his city. Mario's pride in his home and birthplace was obvious; he told me this was the best city in the world and he would take me to the best place in the best city in the world, that it was so beautiful that I would not be able to breathe...

It was, indeed, breathtaking. We watched the sunset from the west of the city, where the coastline curves around the Mediterranean creating a harbor and bay where the historic center of city is nestled. We are on the outer Western curve, by the industrial part of the city. Mario shares his vision for this part of Napoli, to transform the old factory buildings into art museums, build restaurants and shops by the sea. I can see it, perfectly...

Mario also is just a good soul, the youngest of eight children in a big Italian family that spans 28 years, known by the family as "the sweetest" of all the brothers. This was clear from his conversations with me. He is a spiritual and kind person who is dedicated to making a difference in the world and does everyday through his kindnesses and hard work and the sunshine he brings into others' lives, as he did into mine that day. I feel like I have more faith in the future and salvation of the world just knowing he exists!

Am grateful for experiencing his goodness... So many good people in the world and how lucky I am to meet some along the way... If you are familiar with tikkun olam, the concept from Jewish mysticism about reconnecting all the fractured bits of light scattered around the world to heal the earth - Meeting someone like Mario for me is like connecting again with one of these points of light.

If enough of us focus on healing the world together, it is possible... Anything is possible.

Other Italy stops included Pompei, Siena, Cinque Terre... I cannot extoll the virtues of Italy enough. I breathe more deeply and walk more slowly and feel more like a goddess here than anywhere on earth, apparently - I plan to trasplant this feeling, this way of being, back to the U.S...

Pompei was a marvel because here in a place of real art and culture and beauty a city was frozen in time. It is chilling and beautiful to see it, to see the plaster casts of people who were captured frozen in a moment in their everyday lives, surprised by the sudden volcanic eruption and shower of volcanic ash.

Siena is a medieval city, still intact today, and I climb the towers there for an overview of the red roofs, Tuscan hillsides, city walls. The Duomo in Siena knocks me out.

Just when you think you cannot breathe in any more beauty, there is more - the vaulted ceilings, the blue and white striped marble columns, the busts of Popes and noble figures along the ceiling vault, the frescos, the mosaic tile floors with stories of creation and resurrection - it is too much, really, it is about as much beauty as I can take in one day... I breathe it in...

And Cinque Terre - here I walk the Via Dell'Amore (Lover's Lane or the Road of Love) and marvel at the cliffside villages with the picturesque pastel houses of melon, peach, pink - I have a picnic lunch of formaggio and foccacia in a hidden cemetery which is a beautiful and quiet place with cliffside views. I hike for hours and watch the sunset over the cliffs and dine in a little place in Monterosso... I meditate on the rocks by the Mediterranean Sea. It is a quiet, lovely, replenishing time.

My last week has been so replenishing and I am grateful for this. Sometimes travel can be tiring and our bodies and souls just need to recharge, and the last few quiet, lovely days in Italy and my first few days in wondrous and wonderful Barcelona have provided just this for me. It is time to reflect on lessons of travel too, and to offer gratitude for the gifts.

I am so grateful for the kindness of strangers - it is this really that has made the world so welcoming, such a wonderland for me. Mario was a stranger who made Napoli friendly for me, and who is now a friend. By the Town Hall in Siena, a nice couple from Illinois shared their picnic lunch with me. They insisted on feeding me crackers, goat cheese, part of a pear, orange, grapes and cookies.

In Pompei Gianni befriended me and helped me to find my way to Napoli, bought me coffee and pizza and just kept me company, walking me through the square at night and showing me an archaelogical dig site off the beaten path, near where he grew up, that he insists I was the first tourist ever to see! This is probably true. I will remember this always.

It is little kindnesses like this that you remember, and hopefully pass on, in the world...

© Lisa Powell Graham 2006

Roma: non basta una vita...

"It is a night with a lovely girl and 100 flowers," Antonio says....

We are on a night tour of the city on his scooter, my arms wrapped around his waist and his lap filled with two dozen roses that I bought for my friend Francesca, who is hosting me here in the city... It is my first night in Roma. He takes me to Trevi Fountain, breathtaking by night, where I toss a coin over my shoulder and make a wish to return to Roma...

We zip by the Colloseum, Piazza Venezia, Piazza di Spagna with the famous Spanish steps where beautiful people historically gathered hoping to be spotted for work as models... onto the Piazza del Popolo with dual churches at the foot of Pincio Hill. The city is marvelous by moonlight.

Antonio wants to kiss me and I refuse; I learn "abbracciare," the Italian word for hug. He is a friend but also a hot-blooded Italian man so I have to set the boundaries. Sometimes I feel like I should hang one of the museum-style "non toccare" signs around my neck - look, don't touch.

The attention is still lovely however and it is a gift to have friends in the city as I do, mostly people I have connected with through other friends in the States. Roma is like a dream to me and the magic of these moments makes it so.

There are many more: dinner at Fortunato near the Pantheon where Bill Clinton and Prince Charles dine when they are in town, a treat from Claudio who works in PR for the Minister of Justice; we have spaghetti with frutti di mare (seafood) and it is exquisite in a red sauce with just the right touch of red pepper, then white fish in a light buttery sauce with patatas. Mmmm...

There is champagne with Gianfranco, who deals in Napa Valley wines, at the Pergola on the top floor of the Hilton with stunning views of Roma. Flavio, another friend, takes me out in Trastevere and we have liqueur shots out of dark chocolate cups in an out-of-the-way bookstore cafe that specializes in exotic drinks, like Absinthe, which they actually serve! And Alessandro and I drink amaretto and chocolate liqueur and eat fine chocolates from Brazil while discussing Buddhism, politics and friendships around the world.

Life, what can I say, is good... It is la dolce vita, indeed... I've never been wined and dined so much in my life. The men have all been gentlemen and good company; some have become good friends already and will remain so after this trip. I could get used to this...

And life is sacred here, eternal... I awake to the sound of church bells my first morning in Roma, here in the home of the Pope, the eternal city that is a living museum, streets full of monuments, sculptures, fountains, piazzas by some of history's great artists, the grandeur of the days of the Empire still present in every walk I take...

Rome is monumental. Besides being home to master works by Michaelangelo, Raphael, Bernini, Caravaggio, the city itself is a work of art. The buildings are grand, there are metro stations with marble angels perching on ledges above the curving facades, there are mythological figures spouting water in the endless fountains...

For me the feeling of the eternal city is expressed in the water fountains along the street that run eternally, water pouring from a tap into the street, where fashionably dressed cat-eyed Italian women stop for a drink, pulling back their long dark hair to drink from the flowing water, before rushing to their next destination in this buzzing modern and historic city...

Although the pace here is of a big modern city, Roma slows me down. I walk more slowly to admire everything, feeling like I have all the time in the world.

I sashay, walking like a runway model, swishing my hips, wearing heels on cobblestone streets and fitted skirts and dresses, only because this is Roma and it feels right to do this here. La moda matters here.

And I feel sexier in Roma...

If you are a 35 year old woman getting a divorce, as I am, and want to feel feminine and beautiful, even adored, again, I suggest spending some time in Roma where you feel like a W-O-M-A-N... There is something in the air here.

It doesn't hurt here that the men who sell you coffee or bus tickets often look like Calvin Klein underwear models. And you don't buy shampoo at CVS, you buy it at a profumeria. How much more sexy is that?

Even the names of my friends here all have three or four syllables, are more melodic: Giambattista, Alessandro, Gianfranco, Francesca, Claudio, Flavio... They roll off the tongue.

La lingua italiana is poetry to my ears; the national language was shaped by La Divina Commedia by Dante after all and all the words ending in "o" and "gia" make basic conversation, even swear words, which I am learning, perche non (why not?), sound like music....

I feel like I traveled 9,000 years to get here as well, having traveled back to the Paleothic and Neolithic Ages in Greece...

At the Benaki Museum in Athens, I marveled at small red clay female figurines, with full breasts and swollen bellies likely symbolizing fertility, that could fit in the palm of my hand and that date back to 6500 BC.

I experienced the Early Bronze Age, the Cypriots, the Archaic Period, the Mycenaens, through art, history coming alive for me in a way that it cannot through only reading it in books. I feel the energy of the creative spirit that has documented history and stories through art for thousands and thousands of years, predating language.

I marvel at the time and precision needed to create a Byzantine mosaic, a gold-leafed icon, a richly embroidered traditional costume... The care, the love, the artistry that went into all of these is breathtaking and such a reminder of the power of the human spirit to create things of great beauty.

You feel so much through this art, it raises so many questions and tells so many stories, about how people worshipped and lived, how they ate and worked, what their lives were like. It's awe-inspiring to absorb this much history in a few short days...

I learn too more about the Byzantine era which spanned from approximately the 4th to 15th century AD, the Greek-speaking Roman empire centered in Constantinople, i.e. my beloved Istanbul. It is one of my favorite periods in art.

I learn how priests and laypeople both fought for the right to create and display iconography, that this art was nearly lost when all religious imagery was banned from Byzantine art for over a century starting in 726, and the efforts of a dedicated few saved it. Icons were the common people's bible, the way to share the stories of Christianity with the illiterate versus reserving the religion for only the learned.

This art had a real impact in that time and I marvel now at its beauty; I love the icons with gold-leaf and rich reds, the endless depictions of Madonna and child and Christ and his apostles.

It's easy to forget in an Internet age and coming from a country where it is common to earn advanced degrees that even today an estimated 870 million adults are illiterate; art has always been a vehicle to share stories and emotions with all.

I feel the sense of great civilizations rising and falling when Xenia tours me through the Acropolis in Athens, the Parthenon which I learn means "Temple of the Virgin Athena," the Acropolis Museum, the porch of Caryatides, the Propylaea, or grand entrance leading into the sacred temple area...

I learn the Greek legend about how Athena and Poseidon battled it out for the city; she planted an olive tree as her offering and Poseidon struck a rock and water came out. The people of the city valued olive oil more and voila, the city was named for this goddess...

I learn that the owl is the national bird of Greece, symbolizing wisdom, and that the pomegranates featured in the ancient statues symbolize fertility. In small traditional villages for a housewarming guests would throw a pomegranate on the steps; it would burst open and the red seeds were supposed to bring good luck and fertility.

I was blessed to get to see a live performance that same night in the Odeon of Herodes Atticus - the Martha Graham Dance Company bringing Greek myths to life through dance. I got chills thinking about the great performances and culture that had cycled through this land centuries before, when Aeschylus and Euripides would perform comedies and tragedies in theater competitions in the nearby Theater of Dionysus, that accommodated 17,000 spectators...

Xenia encouraged me to visualize, and I did, the great minds that helped launch Western civilization walking on these grounds, talking about philosphy... It's so much more palpable when you've been in the space, seen a performance in the theater, walked the sacred grounds.

I learn, and I learn, and I learn... After a few days in sexy Roma (which, my friend Gianfranco points out, is "Amor" spelled backwards!!) I make a detour to Firenze, i.e. Florence. The city is quiet and small in comparison to Rome, magnificently beautiful, with endless cobbled alleys, green shuttered buildings, red tile roofs....

Dante lived here and Michaelangelo, and endless artists including the incomparable Caravaggio flourished under the patronage of the Medicis. The vibe here is so different from Roma, much more mellow, more art students sitting in Piazzas endlessly sketching fountains and facades, less rushing and more women in sensible shoes versus the high stilettos on the cobblestones streets of sexy Roma.

This is interesting to me, since besides gelaterias, lingerie stores are the most frequent type of shop I see in Firenze. Sneakers and lingerie, art and history, Ponte Vecchio which survived the Nazy occupation and is a timeless symbol of the city... Firenze is complex...

My first night here my friend Giambattista tours me around on his scooter by night - how did I get so lucky to experience all of Italy this way?? We go to Piazza Michaelangelo for an overview of the city and Giamba, who is a professional photographer, teaches me how to take a night-time picture of the city skyline using an open aperture and lengthy exposure. I capture the Duomo and Santa Croce by night - wow...

Then he takes me to Pizza Man in Firenze where I have, I kid you not, THE BEST PIZZA OF MY LIFE (with apologies to DeFazio's in Troy, NY, where I regularly indulge in the best pizza I've ever eaten elsewhere in the world).

I eat a whole pizza. A whole pizza! This, for me, is a record, but every bite is mouthwateringly perfect and the next bite just as good...

The pizzas are simple. I have half a pizza margharita and half of one with fresh cherry tomatoes and basil. The crust is light and thin and you fold it in half. The tomatoes are so fresh. The cheese is exquisite, sliding off the sauce, yet sparingly applied vs. the greasy mozzarella that often gets glopped onto slices in the States. Everything applied judiciously- and so fresh!

The pizza is lighter with pure ingredients that all taste farm fresh and you taste every ingredient in every bite. That said there is really no way to describe properly in words why and how this is so much better than the pizzas in the U.S. (you must go to Pizza Man and experience it for yourself!) but one pizza and a few glasses of plum grappa later, I am a very happy, satiated woman.

Luckily I walk 1,000 steps the next day to burn off that pizza. I climb to the top of the Duomo and a few hours later climb the Campanile by sunset, for both daytime and evening views over the red roofs of Florence and surrounding Tuscan hillsides.

I catch a mass at the Duomo, just to experience that in Italian, and try ribollita, the filling and tasty Florence soup with vegetables and pieces of crusty bread soaked in the soup broth. It is delicious. I finally try panna cotta, one of my favorite desserts in the U.S., here in Italy and it is creamy, smooth, so creamy, delicious, and smothered in hot chocolate sauce flavored with liqueur.

The tiramisu is divine, and I've tried at least seven flavors of gelato by now, including the famous varieties at San Crispino near Trevi Fountain, which specializes in honey flavored gelato.

What can I say? I walk the streets of Italy all day and feast at night - My body is no worse for the wear, maybe slightly curvier, who can say, but I'm still in good shape and having nice curves never hurt a woman, especially here in Italy.... The men are not complaining.

I still have many sights to see in the week I have left in this beautiful country: Cinque Terre, Pompeii, Siena, Venezia. Today I toured the Vatican Museums, and there is too much to say here about that now (more soon) but suffice it to say I cried in the Sistine Chapel and could have spent a week there. Next week I will tour the famed Uffizi Gallery in Florence.

How did I get so lucky??? Sono felice, sono contenta.

That is not to say that every moment of my travels has been perfect and glamorous, of course... I've stayed in not-so-fancy but very friendly youth hostels and crashed on the couches of some gracious friends, been ripped off by an illegitimate taxi driver when caught during an Italian local transportation strike today, had some nights of less than optimal sleep.

But I'm happy, and I've learned that I can live with less, live more simply, than I once thought... We need so little, really, to be happy. Food, a safe place to sleep, some good company, and beauty.... I am an aesthete, seeking beauty everywhere, and I find it.

Seek and ye shall find...

Beauty will save the world... At least, I am counting on this. It is everywhere, and perhaps there is a higher concentration in Italy, but that is all a matter of perspective.

I breathe in beauty and it feeds me... It is replenishing. It calms my soul.

No matter the hardships or inconveniences of travel, which are always part of the deal, the moments of beauty define my travels for me.

These are the moments I will remember, always....

© Lisa Powell Graham 2006

Endless sunshine of the spotless mind

"It is so simple, the life," Lucky said to me this morning in his famous Santorini falafel and souvlaki stand where I bought my breakfast falafel for 2.5 Euros. "You are happy, you bring many happies."

We are all called to be happy, he said, and to respect and revere a power greater than us, and to love one another, starting with our family and friends but radiating that light out even to those who we may want to distrust, the way the Greeks, Lucky said, sometimes view the Turks or the Arab world may view the U.S. The Turk, he has feelings, a heart, is respectful too, says Lucky.

Fifteen minutes with Lucky while my falafel balls fried, and I got his philosophy on life, 9/11, and why he is lucky to be famous and own this souvlaki stand in Santorini. God called him to make good souvlaki and falafel, he says, and he teaches others how to make it and shares with Greek youngsters his thoughts on how to talk to the people of the world.

One nation united under falafel, here on this island of staggering beauty, one of the top destination spots on earth...

Luckily, and Lucky would be proud, I am happy. My blue eyes bring good luck to others as well, he says, and that's fine with me - I'm happy to share my happiness, the bounty of it all.

The beauty on my travels feeds me and the light on the island feeds my soul. The light and colors, the hot clear sun of day and fiery panoramic sunsets, the light dancing on the water, this is Greece to me - sunset, sunshine, sunrise, white light and gold light, blue and red skies...

The colors of the sky at sunset are red, gold, white, the sun a ball of fire or light pouring through clouds in rays that fan out toward the water, light pouring down and signifying to me a power so much greater than us that lights up the world every day, and the surface of the sea shimmers and dances with light.

This despite the fact that it has been a rainy week! In the interlude between showers it is nothing but dazzling sunshine and endless blue skies until the highlight of every night - sunset over mountains, cliffsides, cities, seas. The best so far that I have seen were in Oia on the island of Santorini, and, unbelievably, from the terrace of Xenia's house in the Athens suburb of Papagos.

I spent the weekend on Santorini and learned more of the history of this place of myth and magic and gasp-inducing views. Along with the island of Crete, Santorini is supposed to be the location of the lost city of Atlantis, the advanced civilization that disappeared into the sea. When the volcano in the center of the once-round island erupted in ~1630 BC, the eruption was so violent that it caused a tsunami in its wake, that destroyed the island of Crete. 2/3 of the center of the island disappeared beneath the sea, leaving the crescent shape that is now Santorini, the caldera of cliffs that now draws visitors from around the world. It is thought to be one of the most violent volcanic eruptions in history.

The volcanic eruptions in Santorini had biblical implications as well, according to Xenia, who as a student of archaeology years ago excavated the lost city in Santorini. The ash blew south and covered the sun in Egypt for six months, thus leading to the seven plagues, and the force before the tsunami drew the Red Sea back, "parting the sea" and leaving a clearing for Moses to lead his people to the promised land.

There was a logical geological explanation for these Biblical miracles, Xenia says, if you piece together this time in history. I get the chills when she describes it. It is awesome, truly, to be in places that have such rich history, places that helped shape Western civilization as we know it.

As a Christian, which I consider myself to be albeit one that practices Buddhism as well and embraces all religions, I am awestruck by the power of holy lands and places, to be where the stories of the Bible originated, not to mention the epic stories of literature - the Iliad, the Odyssey.

Knowing about Santorini's history helps to elevate it as well to more than just another beautiful tourist destination, which the island also is. It is utterly packed with tourists so the island is not about the charm of the locals (although there is Lucky!) but you can't really blame us all for gathering from around the world to appreciate the beauty of this unique destination.

I loved Oia best, the tip of the island famous for its sunset views where I watched the sunset both nights. The cliffs of Oia are lined with charming white, yellow and pink houses and the famous blue-domed churches of Santorini. Here, I dined on souvlaki for 2 Euros - an island bargain! - bought two watercolor paintings of the city for only 28 Euros, and indulged in dessert decadence.

Night one, Saturday, I dined at Lotza's Terrace overlooking the cliffside homes, vegetable stew with retsina wine, then I treated myself to ekmek, which seems to be too sinful to exist. It is sheer sweet lunacy, bread and shredded wheat soaked in syrup with custard on top and whipped cream flavored with cardamom and sprinkled with chopped pistachios on top of that.

Night two I had a crepe filled with nutella and bananas and drizzled with chocolate sauce and a glass of local Santorini white wine from the barrel in what must be the most beautiful jazz bar in the world - I sat on the open air terrace surrounded by white and fuschia bougainvillea, overhead and along the terracotta walls, and took in the color of the post-sunset Oia sky while sipping wine and savoring chocolate.

If you are currently celibate, I recommend nutella loaded on anything to make you swoon. We find ecstasy where we can, no?

Oddly, perhaps from all the sweetness, perhaps from the dazzling views or couples silhouetted at every vista point, cuddling and kissing and swooning from the heights and over-the-top picture-postcard romanticism of it all, Santorini was about the only place on my travels so far where I felt alone sometimes as if only "one half" without being part of a complete couple. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to be struck by such a feeling on what is known to be one of the most romantic sites on the planet.

Hey. Whatever. I can always go back to Santorini someday if I choose with my "other half," wherever/whoever he might be, and cruise around on our scooter on the snaking mountain roads with the rush of open air and exhiliration of sheer cliff dropoffs alongside, sip coffee or wine along the cliffs, dance together to thumping beats in Fira's downtown district, etc. For now I am still happy to be alone navigating my way through the world as I wish - it's a privilege and blessing to be traveling this way, too.

Other Santorini highlights included my scooter ride to Fira along winding cliff roads, hanging on to the greasy Greek mechanic Niko whose long curly hair whipped into my face as we rode (he'd offered me a ride to Fira for free rather than letting me rent a scooter, for safety's sake, since I'm an inexperienced motorized-two-wheeler-driver and he said there are many accidents here); sunbathing and swimming topless in the Aegean at the black sand beach of Perissa, where you walk on volcanic rock underneath the surface of the water; eating my falafel this a.m., after my talk with Lucky, at a cliffside cafe with a gentle breeze and breathtaking views of Fira spread out beneath me.

Last night I danced 'til three at Fira clubs. At Murphy's, the crowd pulsed to Vanilla Ice and Sublime. At bar two, I got treated to free shots when I belly-danced to Turkish music with a Greek woman. I will freely admit that I am an exhibitionist when it comes to performing, especially belly-dancing. I do not mind at all when the crowds clap for me!

Thus I was happy when I got cheers of "Bravo!" and "Oh-pah!" when I did my first Greek dancing solo in a traditional taverna where I'd dined with my friend Iaonnis from the Kennedy School a few nights ago, before leaving for the Santorini trip. We were in Psiri where crowds of attractive Greeks throng the streets until sunrise - women in leggings and short skirts and low-slung belts, olive-complected handsome men with five o'clock shadow everywhere.

We quit at 1:30 a.m., which was early, since I had to catch the ferry to Santorini at 7:30 the next morning, which meant leaving the house at 6 a.m. I s'pose when you are traveling sleep is so overrated - but I do need some to keep my stamina up for another two months of travel.

During my night out with Iaonni I also got to try some classic Greek dishes, including dakos from Crete, which is a hard brown bread with thick layers of tomato and feta on top - Greek bruschetta essentially! The bread, which tastes of molasses, crumbles and melts in your mouth.

We had touszakakia, meatballs with red cumin sauce, which were delicious (and yes my vegetarian diet has gone to hell again in Greece - but while in Greece, one must try the delicacies, right?). I danced multiple Greek dances, coaxed and coached by the Greek women dancing to the live musicians in the back of the taverna, culminating in my solo when they beckoned me onto the dance floor late that night.

Iaonni said that night, when speaking of the relations between the Turks and the Greeks, that "the next war will be over baklava." The Turks claim it and so do the Greeks. Of course the troubles between the nations run deeper than this - they still fight today over Cyprus, where a fence divides the Turkish from the Greek side, and there has been a lot of bloodshed and bitterness between the two nations.

"When a Greek talks about Istanbul, their heart bleeds," Xenia has told me.

In Istanbul, Aya Sofia, or Hagia Sofia in Greek, which means "divine wisdom," is something of a pilgrimage site for Greeks, symbolizing the greatness of the Byzantine empire which has Hellenic roots. Aya Sofia was originally a Greek Orthodox church, Xenia said, years before it was a Muslim mosque.

Food unites, food divides, and one could say it ultimately has more power than religion because we need it to survive. As fuel, food keeps us alive, but of course is also a great source of pleasure in life, and I am happy to be eating this way during my stay but also happy to have lots of Greek ruins and cliffs to climb so I can stay in bikini shape for the beaches of Italy - coming next!

First, another few days in Athens... So far here I have toured the neighborhoods around the Acropolis by night, enjoyed a delicious mezza meal of cold salads - caviar, eggplant, tzatsiki - retsina wine and spiced cream cheese, when Xenia and Kostas kindly treated me to a meal at the traditional Plaka restaurant, Stamatopoulos Tavern, where three musicians played traditional Greek folk songs on the open air terrace, that was located right at the foot of the Acropolis which is illuminated by night....

Xenia and her husband are the perfect hosts. I have tried an Athens brew pub with my friend Konstantinos as well, where over red ale and sweet lager we discussed life, work, spirituality and camping out in medieval castles, which he has done here in Greece. Perhaps next time I can add this to my list of adventures as well.

More to report on this historic city and country soon... Oh-pah!

© Lisa Powell Graham 2006

Hayye ales Salah - Let's go to the mosque....

One cup of coffee and you remember it for 40 years - That is a Turkish proverb to live by, shared by my friend Moses over apple tea outside his carpet shop. As Moses said, "Familyship, relationship, friendship, these are all most important to us in Turkey..."

In the end it is these moments that last and it is perhaps the greatest gift of travel, moments shared with others that stay with us, like hearing a new friend, Ali, a reciter of the Koran, speak passages aloud to me like poetry and translate the haunting sounds of the call to prayer that I hear in the streets of Istanbul every day...

As Professor H. A.R. Gibb has said about Muhammad and how the reading of the Koran affects the human heart, "No man in fifteen hundred years has ever played on that deep toned instrument with such power, such boldness, and such range of emotional effect."

Here is Ali's transliteration for me and his literal translation of the call to prayer that comes five times a day:

Allah Ekber - God is great ~
Eshedu en lalilahe illallah - There is no one like God ~
Eshedu eme Muhammad un Rusulluldai - Muhammad is the person like the men God wants from us ~
Hayye ales Salah - Let's go to the Mosque ~

I met Ali near the Grand Bazaar when I asked for directions to the whirling dervish show; he walked me there, then spent an hour and a half telling me stories of the miracles of the world from the Koran.

Though only 22, Ali was full of knowledge and stories. He said according to the Koran if we could hear the sound of the world turning we would explode.

He talked about the two moons that are part of Islam, although we can only see one here on earth, and that the second moon is also a miracle - the crescent moon of course is featured on the flag of Turkey as a symbol of Islam.

He said that God knows how many breaths you will take in your life - it is predetermined - and for that reason he said I might notice that the Turks breathe deeply and slowly! Make your breaths last and extend your life... This is one of the best reasons I've heard so far to breathe deeply!

My friend Ismail asked me what Turkey is famous for and when I said, "Turkish delight? bellydancing?" he answered, "Turkish hospitality." Ismail spent an afternoon showing me the Süleymaniye Camii or Suleymaniye mosque, which was built in seven years, from 1550 to 1557, by the great architect Sinan for Sultan Süleyman the Magnificent.

The night before, we smoked a nargileh and drank raki at his friend's courtyard bar in Sultanahmet - before that I'd been out dancing at a local bellydancing show by a fiendishly beautiful blond dancer who rippled her sinewy body in surprising and sensual S-shapes - I want to dance like that I thought! I'll keep practicing my bellydancing so inshallah someday I can... She did pull me up to dance with her which was fun...

Another favorite moment with Ismail, who works in hospitality managing a restaurant in Sultanahmet, was when he told me, "I can say I love you in ten languages," and then proceeded to share each one with me. He spends so much time with tourists that he's learned key phrases - such as that one! "I love you" in Turkish is "seni seviyorum."

I packed a lot into my eight days in Istanbul, with the help of my friends. The hammam (Turkish baths and massage where they scrub, soap down and rub you!), multiple mosques, a boat cruise down the Bosphorus, dancing in nightclubs in trendy Taksim night after night, climbing the winding cobblestone hills to take in the panoramic views from Galleta Tower, even dinner in some charming historic neighborhoods frequented by the locals, so off the beaten path...

My dear friend Seref from the Kennedy School showed me around town and also loaned me his friends as guides. His friend Mehmet and Mehmet's son Birkan took me to dinner at Ulus, perched high on a hill above the Bosphorus with spectacular views - We then went for Turkish coffee in Bebek, a charming Istanbul neighborhood frequented by locals, and drove along the length of the Bosphorus.

The Bosphorus itself is fascinating, a narrow strait that links the Black Sea to the Marmara Sea and that separates the European from the Asian side in Istanbul, the only city in the world that spans two continents.

Drinking our Turkish coffee overlooking the Bosphorus, Birkan taught me more Turkish slang, including "Wassup?" (Nasil gidiyor?) and "Take care of yourself" (Kendine iyi bak). My Turkish friends loved it when I pulled those out in conversation!

I love the convergence of worlds that travel brings, like hearing legends about the famous castle that is a historic landmark in green Slovenia from my new Slovenian friend Bruno, who was also staying at my hostel, as we ate kebab (loaded with sauce, for 1 lira only! or about 60 cents...) in Taksim at 4 a.m. with a hazel-eyed Brazilian engineer, Cassiano, a British rugby player named Will, a posse of Aussie friends all from the hostel, and local Turkish friends... The world comes together around kebab.

I think my favorite night of the trip was when I walked from Ortakoy, a charming districts of cafes, restaurants and shops along the Bosphorus that the locals frequent, to Arnavutkoy, which is one of the most beautiful little places I've ever been on earth! The coastline curves along the Bosphorus and along the sea curve where the fishing boats dock is a row of four and five story gingerbread Victorian homes, like something you'd see in old New England or San Francisco...

There is a canal in this section of town abutted by restaurants full of cafe tables with red and white umbrellas and full of families and couples enjoying the evening along the Bosphorus... I dined on the outdoor rooftop terrace at Garga, a famous restaurant with pictures of its visitors - Brigitte Bardot, Alfred Hitchcock - lining the walls.

My spinach salad with orange slices and walnuts and a glass of house wine only cost 15.50 lira (about $10 USD) and the sunset view was free... It was one of those moments of feeling like I am in paradise when I travel, since after all paradise can be something we create on earth, I believe...

It is such a gift to have these moments, small miracles, when the rest of life can feel hellish on hustling, bustling, busy, cranky days... We all have some of those as well. It's a gift to simply enjoy beauty and be in the flow of life, to take it slowly and enjoy the simple pleasures. This has been one of the great gifts of my travels so far...

I was sad to leave Istanbul although I'm happy to now be in Athens, staying at the home of my dear friend Xenia who lives in Papagoy, a suburb of the city. From her rooftop terrace you can see the sunset - I watched it tonight and understand what she meant when she talked about the Golden Age here.

Xenia is a career diplomat, currently posted in San Francisco as Consul General for nine western US states, and she is trained in history and archaeology - a beloved friend of mine and the perfect Athens guide! She pointed out the mountains that you can see from her terrace, next to the Acropolis - beyond that, the sea.

Here in 480 BC the Greeks defeated the Persians to start the golden age of civilization. How fitting I thought as I watched the sky of gold tonight - I do think the highlights of Greece will include learning more about its incredible history, which shaped Western civilization and culture in so many ways, and the quality of the light.

I think Greece for me will be about the way sunlight shines on the white buildings and blue sea, the luminous and bright quality of the white and golden light. Xenia said this tonight as well, that the quality of the light here literally helped shape civilization because when the quality of the light is clear, the quality of the thought is clear.

She said that here, "the Gods are brilliant and sparkling, everything is sparkling," and this creates clear and brilliant thought. It is easy to see already how one could be inspired by the light of Greece...

I look forward to seeing more sunsets and sunrises here and to learning more about Greek history and civilization. It felt fitting that I left Istanbul at sunset - I had arrived there the first day at sunrise - to complete the circle.

Istanbul is still haunting to me and I know I'll return. I learned a lot there as well, including fun Turkish phrases, and how to navigate when the Turkish hospitality becomes overly friendly, as it can, especially for a Western woman traveling alone. It can wear you down if you allow it to - the attention is non-stop and not always wanted.

Honestly I was feeling a bit jaded by the end by it all, despite being enamored when I first arrived, perhaps like a lover whose infatuation has burned itself out after nonstop passionate days and nights - Istanbul was like that for me.

By my last days there however I decided to take it for what it is worth and deal with it when needed just by ignoring unwanted attention and saying no - simple, right? There is so much that is good in the warmth and kindness of the Turkish people, their willingness to drop everything to show you their beautiful city and to make you feel welcome, that I didn't want to focus on the negative.

My advice for traveling in Istanbul would be - ignore the men on the street when you need to because they will pay you too much attention - which always starts with, "Can I ask you just one question?" - but also be open to some new friendships and to what you will learn from the people there.

My trip would not have been half of what it was without my new Turkish friends who taught me language, culture, history and took me to the out of the way places that aren't highlighted in the guidebooks.

I left exhausted but exhilirated after days of being barraged with attention on the streets, days of drinking in incredible and seemingly inexhaustible beauty, days of practicing my Turkish and dancing 'til 4 in the nightclubs of Taksim... What a trip!

Greece for me has been replenishing so far - A thunderstorm this afternoon meant it was not the perfect day for touring the Acropolis, so I rested, caught up on email and organized myself for the coming days. Tonight- dinner in the Old City at the foot of the Acropolis with Xenia and her husband Kostas and perhaps meeting up with my friend Konstantinos afterwards... More on Greece soon!

© Lisa Powell Graham 2006

Bu iyi, bu guzel - In Istanbul, it is good, it is beautiful...

God is smiling upon me in Istanbul, the Paris of the Middle East, the capital city of the world under numerous empires - Byzantine, Roman, Ottoman - A city with a Christian and Muslim history - a city that spans two continents - Today I was in Europe and also in Asia, and all in Istanbul!

It is an endless romance for me here, seduced by the city, called to its streets and waterways as millions are called to prayer by the haunting voices that echo from the mosques five times a day... Istanbul is intoxicating.

This makes sense to me - after all, it is a city of belly-dancing, whirling dervishes, dark and handsome men with bewitching eyes, splashes of color in the coral, blue and yellow of the buildings, light, water, sunsets over the Golden Horn and Bosphorus where the sky and water turn aquamarine, the minarets illuminated along the skyline...

Last night, it was so beautiful at sunset under the Galleta Bridge where I drank tea and smoked a shishi pipe, reclining on a soft cushion, that I could have cried...

Earlier that morning as I meditated on a cushion on the rooftop terrace of my hotel in the sunshine, with the sun glittering on the Bosphorus and the silhouettes of ships gliding silently across the Marmara Sea, my breath was deep and steady and easy. Simply being here is a form of meditation, a form of prayer.

Even the seagulls fly differently here, gracefully swooping in arcs like Arabic script, carving a slow dance like an exhalation in the air - They seem to know they are flying over centuries of history and beauty, soaring over this city is more beautiful than most places on earth, I am convinced of it....

I have made a million friends already, one on every corner - Everyone wants to serve me apple tea, sit with me, stare into my blue eyes (they are something of a novelty here...). The Turkish hospitality is beyond belief to the point of being exhausting at times because how many invitations can you accept, and how many can you turn down, again and again, but kindly?

I have been guided and cared for and received so many gifts, tea on rooftops, wine and chocolates, roses in the street - It feels like a constant romance and seduction by a whole city, 12 million people at once! (not that I am complaining....)

The sights that I have seen so far include Aya Sofia, a fıfteen-hundred year old mosque built by Emperor Justinian as the finest church of its time (it was a Christian church before the Muslim conquest); the Blue Mosque where I wrapped my bare arms and red hair with an aqua scarf to enter; the Grand Bazaar which is the biggest and most beautiful ancient indoor mall ever, 600 years of peddling wares and still in operation, featuring 4,000+ shops; the Spice Market where I sampled more than a dozen varieties of Turkish delight and marveled at the small mountains of rich red saffron, yellow curries, endless piles of figs, dates and jellied candies....

I have toured the European side of Istanbul and the Asian side both by car and on foot and taken the ferry from one continent to another in the cool night air and in the morning sunshine... Yet to do - Topkapi Palace, Bosphorus boat tour, and maybe Capadoccia this weekend (a marvel of an ancient city in central Turkey...). And, just more exploring of these winding cobblestone streets where there is a fortress wall, palace or mosque every time you turn the corner...

Last night I hung out with my friend Hakan in popular Taksim in Beyolu, full of restaurants, cafes, bars and shops and throngs of people... There was a festival going on featuring traditional Turkish music - The streets and balconies were lit up and there were balloons everywhere - We had dinner at a rooftop terrace restaurant, shrimp casserole and fried aubergines, so delicious! Then raki, the Turkish national drink that is like Greek oozu or Arabian arak - anisette flavored, milky in color when water is added, so good and so strong!

We listened to traditional Turkish folk songs, Hakan translated for me the fairy tales being celebrated in song, and I practiced some belly-dancing moves to the catchy Turkish songs - It was an evening of great friendship which reminded me once again how you can be kindred spirits and so enjoy someone's company who comes from such a different place and culture - Hakan is kind and funny and clever and taught me lots of new Turkish words, while we traded opinions on everything from politics to religion, work life and social life, our own and our nation's histories, travel and dancing - Such fun.

Tonight I will go see the whirling dervishes and have drinks at the Seven Hills Restaurant rooftop terrace which overlooks Aya Sofia and the Blue Mosque, enjoy the cool evening Istanbul air and more great company... I am staying at the BauHaus Hostel in Sultanahmet, which is ranked by the Washington Post as one of the world's top dozen hostels, run by the incomparable Neco who is up until sunrise every morning orchestrating and enjoying special events with his guests... Neco is also a champion Tavla player, a Turkish game of strategy which I have yet to learn (give me a few days!). Tonight there will be a fire party on the roof and drinking and talking 'til dawn...

In'shala - they have this expression in Turkish too - I will bring the spirit of this city home with me and savor every moment here, now and when I return again and again in the future... I do truly love it here. Yet despite my waxing poetic I also know and understand that the history of the city and country is complicated too, and bloody - the Turks conquered and were conquered many times over before national hero Mustafa Kemal Ataturk made this a secular and free democracy with his vision and spirit, when Turkey became a republic in 1923... the Turkish flag is red for blood spilled, after all, so the legend goes - and I know that this city like all others has its dark side and problems.

But ma'shallah, it will remain magical too always, as it is to me now, and peaceful, as it also is - Truly here in Istanbul the problems of the PKK and terrorist bombings in the southeast corner of the country near Iraq feel a million miles away - In'sha Allah the people of the city will remain safe and able to enjoy their lives peacefully... I will wish for this always!

Bu iyi, bu guzel. It is good here, it is beautiful, in Istanbul.

On to more adventures - pictures coming soon!

© Lisa Powell Graham 2006

A weekend in Dubai, shining city of gold...

It was a culture shock coming to modern, glitzy, fast-growing Dubai in the United Arab Emirates after two weeks in historic Amman. Historically, Dubai was a small port city, surrounded by desert, in an area primarily inhabited by nomadic Bedouin tribes. Not so long ago, the city was little more than flat desert land and many of the locals were camel-herders.

Today it is the Middle East's answer to both fast-growing Las Vegas and New York, known for its skyscrapers of iridescent glass. The city has boomed in the past 20 years and is still growing at an exponential rate. 20 percent of the cranes in the world are in Dubai, according to one local (another claimed it is 80% of the world's cranes!) and buildings are going up everywhere you look.

Some of the new plans for Dubai include the Dubai Waterfront, a business, residential and entertainment mini-city, planned to be 2.5 times the size of Washington, DC and 7 times the size of the island of Manhattan. The world's tallest building, the Burj Dubai, is currently under construction here, scheduled for completion in 2008, although the final height remains a closely guarded secret.

Life is tax-free in Dubai, and the free zones mean that industry is flocking here, but the cost of living here is high. Some locals I met who live in the Dubai Marina told me they pay 130,000 durhams per year (that's about 35,000 US dollars) for their two-bedroom apartment in a building that is only three months old...

It is not a pedestrian city. You take taxis everywhere. This is in part due to the way the city has been built, around highways, and in part due to the fact that the weather here is sweltering, and everyone lives inside in the AC.

The temperature this evening, for example, is a cool 91 degrees, Fahrenheit (33 Celsius) with 69% humidity and haze. Mind you, it's 7 p.m. and the sun has already set... Temperatures this week are expected to be in the 102 to 104 degree range (39 to 40 degrees Celsius) and we're in September already... Whew!

What this means is that you break into a sweat the minute you walk outside and your glasses or camera lens fogs up right away - it's that humid.

More on Dubai tomorrow, including stories of my desert safari adventures tonight - I am right now at the Dubai airport, getting ready to board a flight to Istanbul - I could not resist the call of this magical city after all... I am off for a week in Turkey, then another week in Greece! Wheee!

For more on Dubai, check here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dubai

© Lisa Powell Graham 2006

The holy land called ~and I stayed ~

Well I wished for more time in Amman and I got it! After hearing news of a fresh wave of bombings in Turkey last weekend, I decided to delay my trip to Istanbul to spend more time with friends here.

This decision made me sad because I don't want to live a life that is restricted by my fears, and because I am in love with Istanbul already even though I haven't been there (yet!) ~ the minarets, the architecture, the belly-dancing and music, the history and culture, the Bosphorus, the Blue Mosque, the spice market, the Grand Bazaar, Aiya Sofia, Turkish piping hot coffee and warm hospitality - I have a feeling I will be enchanted with the vibrant colors, fragrances, sounds, tastes, and the feelings and spirit when I go - I can feel the energy of the city swirling around me already, even from here.... And what place could be more romantic and more melancholy in the summer, as a Turkish friend once told me?

But as an American woman traveling alone, with friends here who I had yet to spend time with and with Amman still tugging at my heart, it felt better to stay for now. Ironically, the day I stayed was the same day that a crazy man shot at a group of tourists here in the Roman ampitheatre in downtown Amman, a site I'd visited just a few days before. I guess it goes to show you that there is some madness everywhere - here, the US, around the world - and sadly there is no avoiding that. Despite all of the love and good people here and everywhere there is still random violence in the world.

Yet in'sha Allah my travels will continue to be blessed and safe... Every friend we make across international and cultural lines is another victory for peace, and I was happy to stay here longer for this reason... Also, staying in Amman made for a relaxing and replenishing week...

Time dissolves here like sugar stirred into into hot tea... The days are a blur of happy meetings with friends at cafes, restaurants, bars and inside people's homes. Time slows down, and is about enjoying meals and conversation... This is how I spend my days, with friends... I have been to a high-end rooftop sushi and salad restaurant called Vinagrette with views of Amman, the famous international Blue Fig Cafe, Tche Tche Cafe known for its argileh ("hubbly-bubbly" as they call it here, or hookah pipes!), trendy Books@Cafe and Le Calle Italian bar, even Salt & Pepper, a new Arabic fast food joint where I ate delicious spiced rice and okra, frekka soup and a taste of mansouf - rich goat's milk yogurt with butter that is poured over rice. Yum.

Today I enjoyed a feast of a lunch at the groom's family's house in Shmeisani neighborhood - homemade lasagna Arabic style with white sauce and lots of cheese, salad, fried meat dumplings, Turkish coffee, green tea with honey, wine from Mt. Nebo and of course Arabic sweets for dessert. Ana nabateeya is how you say "I am a vegetarian" but here I've ventured outside my usual culinary restrictions a bit, as I thought I might - How can you avoid eating meat entirely when the best schwarma stand in Amman is across the street from my hotel, for example, and when one schwarma sandwich costs 1/2 dinar? (About 75 cents!).

Today I visited with Lama and Renna, Basel's sisters, his brother Akhmad and Lama's American husband, Patrick. As we wrapped up a lazy afternoon of eating sumptuous food and talking politics, music wafted into the room - a wedding outside, an Egyptian one, Lama said, from the sound of the singing and the band.

The weddings here are lavish, traditional, magical, as Salma's was - with a traditional Jordanian band to announce the arrival of the groom at the bride's house, then a procession to the hotel with cars honking horns - More singing and dancing at the hotel when the bride and groom descended from the staircase toward the ballroom! And of course, at the wedding, and the parties all week long beforehand, we danced, and danced, and danced....

I say, God gave me hips for a reason. My given nickname here was that of the best belly dancer in Jordan ~ An exaggeration of course but for an American girl I can shake it with the best of them! It was a revelation how the women cheered me on and danced with me, many of them veiled.

I didn't know culturally how it would go over to have a redheaded blue eyed Westerner baring my arms and body-rolling, but apparently, I was a hit... I learned new moves from the dancers here as well.

And the music moves me in a way I can't explain ~ I feel it inside me and it moves through me. I even love the Arabic pop especially the catchy rump-shaking songs by Nancy Ajarim. In'sha Allah, more belly-dancing lessons when I return to the US!

The rest of last week was filled with parties, meeting the bride and groom's friends - more and more and more of the warm Arabic hospitality. The parties were numerous and over the top ~ dancing in the open air at Action Target outside Amman to Arabic pop, where Basel's sister Lama tied a scarf around my hips and taught me belly-dancing moves - go slow and sexy she coaxed, and I did...

The party at Lana's parents' home, where we danced on top of the pool, a glowing surface covered by sheer plexiglass panels and lit from underneath - The atmosphere was absolutely magical...

The wedding itself of course, which took up the whole day, since we spent time in the salon getting our hair and nails done, putting on shimmery eyeshadow, being sure we were sufficiently glamourous to blend with this elegant crowd!

The other highlights of last week included the rose-red city of Petra, which leaves me nearly at a loss for words... It is so spectacular, you must go there yourself, in'sha Allah - It is a spot in the world not to be missed. Add it to your list of things to do before you die.

For 700 years Petra was a "lost city," like Atlantis, known only to local Bedouins until it was rediscovered by Swiss explorer JL Burckhardt in 1812 when he disguised himself as a Muslim holy man to gain access to the mysterious site he had heard rumors of... There is archeological evidence on the site of a village dating back to 7000 BC, but the heyday was from around the 6th century BC to about 70 AD.

The Nabataeans, master engineers and artists, carved royal tombs and treasuries and theatres and places of worship into the soft red desert rock with spectacular results. The entrace into Petra is the 1.2 km Siq, a gorge formed by tectonic movement that is only a few kilometers across in some spots.

Our guide Ali who was a very spiritual man told us that walking in the Siq "strengthens your soul" and that Petra is a holy place. Interestingly, most of the city was built in homage to the dead, with marvelous tombs - The living Nabataeans were nomads who lived in tents, like some modern Bedouins still do.

Thornton Wilder once said, "There is a land of the living and the dead, and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning." This philosophy to me was at the heart of what made Petra beautiful ~ The views and vistas in Petra are beyond belief, especially when you get the first glimpse of the Treasury from the Siq, and when you climb the rock paths...

We hiked where the signs said "Do Not Climb" to get close up views of the Royal Tombs, and to stand and look down over the Roman theatre. Hundreds of feet below us, a line of Japanese tourists with umbrellas open to shade them from the sun wandered by in a parade of pastel color, and camels sauntered loaded with packs and people in the blazing sun, their long legs like matchsticks viewed from so high above. Petra is simply awesome.

The Roman ruins at Jerash, where we spent the day on Monday, where marvelous as well, especially with the backdrop of a small modern day city which surrounds the ancient site.

And floating in the Dead Sea is all it's cracked up to be - Your limbs pop to the surface as you float like a bobbing cork in all the salty water with it's slick, oily feel - It is warm as bath water and you can lie on your back, belly, or even your side in fetal position and stay on top of the water.

It's the lowest point on earth at more than 415 meters below sea level. Before heading into the water, you coat your whole body in mud and let it dry for 15 minutes - good for the skin! It itches a bit but feels so soft afterwards - Just don't go into the Dead Sea with any open wounds unless you are ready to feel a real sting!

The Marriott Resort where we hung out at the Dead Sea was posh, too - Three levels of pools with man-made waterfalls and even a waterslide, with the last pool overlooking the Dead Sea ~ The edge of the pool visually blurred with the edge of the sea. Restful, peaceful, beautiful. We lounged in our bikinis and had drinks poolside for hours, soaking in the hot sun...

All in all, an incredible week ~ And this week was the time to be with friends, rest-up and recover - Tonight I head out to a reggae dance party with my new friend KK, who is a bartender, Arabic tutor, English teacher and all-around cool guy - He is also strikingly handsome and doesn't look like he is "from here," since he dresses Western style and is tall with dreadlocks. He's a walking example of a person whose style transcends a certain time and place and he's a world traveller, too. So many fascinating people here.....

Must go dance! Tomorrow, the Turkish baths here (hammam) and hopefully an art gallery at lunchtime before flying to Dubai tomorrow evening for a weekend with Masuda- then to Athens and Mykonos next week with Xenia...

What a blessing it is to be here. Il-Hamdu lillah - Thanks be to God! As one would say here... in an expression of love that I also love... I have felt like family here, treated with kindness and embraced as a sister or a cousin, with love ~ and will return again someday for sure. In'sha Allah.

© Lisa Powell Graham 2006

In'sha Allah, I will return to Jordan again someday soon....

Today is my 10th and last day in Jordan ~ so many stories to tell! The people here are sweeter than keenafa, which is a favorite local dessert made of white cheese with dough on top and lots of honey...

I have been treated with so much respect and love and kindness, truly like a queen. Just call me Malekah Lisa. I leave here with a deep respect for the people, gratitude for all the gifts I have been given, and many new and dear friends. Also, ana bakhi arabi schway - I speak a little Arabic now!

It is a wonderful language, full of expressions that reveal the importance of religion, faith and human kindness in a country that is 95% Muslim. We great each other by saying "Salaam alaykoom" - May peace be upon you. Many sentences are followed by "In'sha Allah," God-willing.

Five times a day we hear the calls to prayer sounding in the streets, beautiful and eerie, ringing through the loudspeakers. On the ceiling of the hotel rooms at the Belle Vue where I am staying, on the second traffic circle in Amman, there is an arrow pointing to Mecca.

Despite all of the obvious cultural differences, Amman to me is the Middle East's answer to San Francisco. It was built on seven hills originally and there are now 22 hills (jebel) in the city. The city is also constructed around circles (duar) with directions given according to the traffic circle closest to the address you are seeking and with landmarks, vs. with street addresses, which generally are not recognized by the taxi drivers.

It is a modern city, but in the center of the downtown is an ancient Roman theatre and Citadel, still preserved today. So much history, so many civilizations, that have passed through this holy land...

My travels in Jordan have included Mt. Nebo where Moses saw the Promised Land before he died and Jesus' baptism site, and there are many biblical sites here ~ yet the spirit of the holy land is felt day-to-day here in the way people live their lives. There is deep faith in this country in something greater than all of us, and I have felt and heard and seen that in my daily interactions with the people here.

The buildings in the city are all made with facades of white stone, by law, so the streetscapes feature views of white buildings on the hillsides, with colorful shop signs in Arabic script in the shopping districts. It's a dusty city in this arid landscape ~ Amman is essentially surrounded by dessert, and much of Jordan is a dry and dusty country, with the occasional oases in the resort town of Aqaba, the Dead Sea, Petra, Jerash, Amman.

Amman is a city of contrasts. Many of the women are hijab - veiled - some in full burka, with only the eyes showing, but others wear modern Western clothing. The Jordanian and Lebanese women in the middle and upper classes, our friends here, are elegant and glamorous creatures. They are always impeccably dressed often in sexy outfits, with make-up and hair done. Being at the wedding was like being on the red carpet Oscars night! The ballroom was full of beautiful dark eyed women in sparkling floor-length beaded and sequined gowns, like so many Arabic movie stars...

Amman is growing rapidly. There has been a recent influx of Iraqis, many of whom are businesspeople who fled the country during the war and have invested in real estate and business development here.

There are new malls, including the glitzy Mecca Mall which spans four floors, already features a new extension and a food court to rival any mall in the US (although fortunately you can get delicious Arabic fast food at the mall here).

Many locals here, from cab drivers to friends of Salma's, have told us that the growth in the city has driven up prices, with the price to buy an apartment having tripled in the past few years, from about 40,000 dinars (approximately 56,000 dollars) to close to 150,000 JD (Jordanian dinars).

The governmental structure in Jordan is fascinating, with both a prime minister and King Abdullah, son of the popular late King Hussein, whose fourth wife happened to be an (Arab) American woman named Lisa Halaby who also attended Princeton University. I wonder if there is a chance for me to also join the royal family? ;-)

Portraits of the kings are featured everywhere - in rest stops along the highway, in libraries, behind the desk in the front lobby at the Belle Vue hotel. There is deep respect, a reverence, for King Abdullah here and for his father.

I have heard many stories of the late King Hussein's kindness, such as the time he stopped to greet my Saudi friend Majid on the streets of Amman when Majid was a child. The king visited with Majid who was 10 or so at the time and with his six year old sister. His Royal Highness noticed that Majid's sister's shoe was untied, and he knelt down to tie her shoe himself. So many people have personal stories that show the King in this light, as a great, humble and kind man.

That's all for the moment because I have a flight to catch to Istanbul in four hours ~ but I promise more stories soon about my travels in the ancient city of Petra, the Dead Sea, the Roman ruins of Jerash, the hot springs at Ma'In, and of course the extravaganza that was Salma and Basel's magical and amazing wedding! Pictures coming soon too.

Salaam alaykoom (may peace be upon you). Sending love from the Middle East to all of you....

© Lisa Powell Graham 2006

The journey starts NOW....

My flight for Amman, Jordan leaves at 4:53 p.m. tomorrow Eastern time. By Friday night I will be at the Queen Alia Airport in Amman, trading in my cash for Jordanian dinars, buying a temporary visa, catching a taxi ride with classmate Jo Addy to the Four Seasons hotel in Amman, where I will crash with Jo for two nights before moving to the more affordable Belle Vue (a 3-star hotel, $30 US dollars to share a double room per night) ...

It is a region of the world I have never experienced before, a region rich in history, culture, and conflict, a region where stories in the Bible were lived out years ago. I will see the 3,000 year old rose city of Petra, the ruins of Jeresh, and float in the Dead Sea.

I will dance at a Muslim wedding of my dearest grad school friend, beloved Salma, and her fiance Basel. I will taste Arabic sweets, drink Arabic coffee, hear the melodies of the Arabic language in the streets, perhaps have my coffee grounds read to predict my future.

If I had to predict it now, I'd predict a happy future, full of love, peace, pleasure, magic but also service and gratitude. Mostly gratitude. Lots of gratitude.

I am a pilgrim of peace headed overseas to dance my way across Europe and the Middle East! Blessed be.

© Lisa Powell Graham 2006