REFLECTIONS

by Katie Butler Johnson

Once we became empty nesters, my husband and I traveled the world.

Since we had no digital camera then, we’d take dozens of rolls of film with us on trips hoping to cull some pictures good enough for a travel album. After we shot a roll and had it developed, we’d sit and squabble over which photos were album worthy. We made those albums for our tomorrows.

Now that my husband has passed, those tomorrows are my todays and each album is like a gift from the past. I love taking “virtual trips” back in time by thumbing through them.

I have two albums filled with memories of the Middle East. You can’t travel there safely today, but you can travel there safely with me - vicariously.

Come join me on one of my trips!

Our Lufthansa flight took off from DFW and landed in Tel Aviv. We drove from the airport to Jerusalem, settled in at the Laromme Jerusalem Hotel and found our guide - a recently retired Israeli military officer who was a living encyclopedia of all things Israeli.

He took us to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Via Dolorosa, the Mount of Olives and the Western Wall (where I stuffed a note into one of its cracks). Unfortunately, we never got to Bethlehem. As we were approaching the outskirts, we could hear sounds of gunfire. The military police closed the road in front of us and ordered us to turn back. We couldn’t return the next day because we were leaving for Jordan that morning.

After we crossed from Israel into Jordan, we were assigned a Jordanian guide. He appeared more eager to sell us things than to tell us things. But, we did get to Amman, Wadi Rum, the Dead Sea, a Memorial to Moses and Petra. But, we also got endless opportunities to buy things from his wide roaming band of relatives.

Petra is truly amazing. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage site and one of the New 7 Wonders of the World. They call it the "Rose City" for its pink sandstone.

After Petra, we traveled south to the Port of Aqaba and boarded the small ship that would take us down the Red Sea to the Arabian Sea and across it to the Persian Gulf.

First stop was Safaga - a port on the Red Sea Coast of Egypt. It’s a resort town with endless sandy beaches and welcoming vibes. We were there all day provisioning the ship for our cruise around the Arabian Peninsula.

After two days at sea, we arrived at Hodeidah in Yemen. We weren’t given a landing permit allowing us to dock and leave the ship until the local Muckety Muck and his entire extended family were all fed and entertained in the ship’s dining room by our captain and fed by our chef. Once that Muckety Muck was sufficiently appeased, he stamped the permit and we disembarked only to be surrounded by a barrage of beggars. It didn’t feel safe. We walked quickly to waiting buses and were driven to Sana’a, Capital of Yemen.

On the drive to Sana’a, we passed fields of Khat guarded by mercenaries sporting riffles. They were stationed in towers like deer hunting blinds. I asked our guide why so many guards were monitoring a crop. That’s when I learned that khat is a very valuable amphetamine-like stimulant. Chewing it seemed to be a national pastime. It ruins your teeth but keeps you intoxicated. At the time we were there, Yemen farmers grew it all over even though growing it used nearly 40% of Yemen’s scarce water supply.

Oman, our next stop, was the opposite of Yemen. Oman felt safe. I didn’t see a scrap of litter or a beggar anywhere. The difference was Oman has oil wealth trickling down to everyone.

When we were there, many lived as nomads outside even though their government had given them houses. They’d spread Persian rugs on the desert sand, top them with open tents and kept their animals in those houses the government gifted them.

We visited Job’s grave, saw boswellia trees (the source of frankincense) and traveled to Salalah, the perfume capitol of the world, where we strolled through sweet, scented souks.

Our next port was Abu Dhaby. It’s the Capital of the UAE (United Arab Emirates).

Traditionally known for its pearl beds and pearl divers, when oil was found under those pearl beds, the country went warp-speed to being the lavish modern oil rich country it is today.

Our last port was Dubai. What I remember most about Dubai isn’t Dubai. It’s that doon-buggy ride out from Dubai miles into the desert. We saw nothing but shifting shadows on sandy mounds for miles and miles before reaching our Arabian Desert Experience.

Seated on a pillow that’s placed on a Persian rug that’s laid on top of the desert sand inside an opened-sided tent while listening to the lute, zither and flute, while observing the sunset in the background melt into the most captivating night sky I’d ever seen – that’s what I remember.