Butter Crisis!!!

I'm not kidding. There is a butter shortage in Israel.  A CRISIS!  This is serious. You don't believe me? Click here. How do I know this? We are hosting a 16-person Thankgiving Dinner complete with a 22lb bird on the grill (with butter patties between the skin and meat), mushroom rice (with mushrooms sauteed in butter), mashed potatoes (obviously, with butter), buscuits (luckily I already made these with butter, but we still need to do the herb-butter to put on them!), and a sweet potato pie (1/3 cup butter in the crust).  Ahh!!!

On Thursday Paul ran to the store for milk, butter and flour.  He said the store was out of the butter we usually buy.  The second store was also out. Only margarine. Julie Child would not approve! And after reading this New York Times article last year, I just cannot bring my self to use anything but real unsalted butter. (PS. the oragne cookies in that aricle are delicious!) The third store: no butter. Fourth: no butter. Fifth, sixth...Ahhh!

At dinner the waiter brought us bread and butter to start with the largest blob of butter ever served! It was at least 1/2 cup.  I have to tell you that honestly I wanted to take that butter home with me. But I didn't. The butter sparked a conversation about butter shortages and how this really felt like a serious problem of unstocked shelves and wartime shortages. I explained to the wiater that this couldn't happen at a worse time (for us) given the amount of butter needed for Thanksgiving...not to mention the Christmas cookies!

This morning at work my worry continued (as did my stomach ache from all of the rich food and the blob of butter). "I heard something on the news. The government as ordered a stop on all butter production, prioritizing cheese as a need." Seriously?!?! Yes, they are serious. "Hopefully imports will increase soon...."

A Culinary Anniversary

I love surprises - but I admit, I am difficult to surprise.  Because as much as I love being surprised - I love figuring out what the surprise is! So when Paul left "for an early morning run" on our anniversary, I knew something was going on.  As he was leaving I curled up under the covers and closed my eyes...once the door shut, I sprung out of bed and began rapid work to finish the scrapbook I'd been working on for quite some time. 

An hour or so later, when I "woke up," I found flowers and coffee waiting for me in the kitchen! After a relaxing breakfast (and some cleaning and prep for our huge Thanksgiving dinner), we headed to the park for a picnic lunch like frequently did during DC summers (although, it is impossible to find prosciutto here, so beef jerky was substituted - haha).  The most enjoyable part of the picnic was reading on 1st Anniversary bottle of wine.  At the wedding, in lieu of a guest book, we asked our friends and family to write on wine bottles to be opened on our 1st, 5th and 10th anniversaries.  Surprisingly, there were many wishes in Spanish, Portuguese and Gaelic.  The picnic and well-wishes really took us back!

For dinner we went to this great wine bar in Jaffa which specializes in meat and truffles! Hmmm :) Now, I don't want to say "I love Israel," for this could be misinterpreted, but...lets just say the waiter served his country well.  The cave-like restaurant was mostly empty (being a Sunday night), save for the owner, the manager and a few waiters.  After a delicious meal and a glass of the house wine, we were chatting with the guy about our anniversary and the great bottle of truffle oil we got for Christmas last year. "Ah, yes, Christmas," he said with a smile, as if realizing we were in some way different. 

Just before we left he brought over a little to-go box and said "I forgot to bring you your side dish." I thought I he meant the massive mound of butter (read the next post) until he winked at us and said quietly "It's not the butter." Though we wanted to know what it was, we clearly couldn't open the box in front of the owner or the manager. "Don't open until Christmas!" was the last thing he said as we paid the bill.  Israel is still below Argentina on my list of favorite foreign countries, and I'm not saying I can be bought off with a bottle of truffle oil...but it does go a long way! 

Playing Archeologist

Group sitting on top of the ancient wine press
just north of Palestine.

When I was in 11th grade I made a list of life goals.  Though I now can't remember all of them they included the following:  Learn a language (check: 2004/2005), Live abroad (check: 2004, 2005, 2010), See Machu Picchu (check: 2005), Publish my work (check: 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010), Work on an archeological dig: CHECK! 2010!!!

My friend Katie organized a group of 8 of us to volunteer for a day, helping an NGO clear a path to and uncover a wine press from the Bronze Age (3300-1200 BCE). While I can't say that it was the most scientific of digs, it was an ancient site and we did get to play archeologists!

  

Despite my eagerness to go on the dig, I did not want to drive.  But alas, my high school days have returned and I am once again the only friend with a car. So I drove a group of us up North, just above Palestine, to the top of a mountian (apparently the lady leading us didn't realize that my little volvo is not an off-roader!). It was a dream come true! There as a large stone structure mostly burried in dirt and rock, a makeshift tent over the dig site, and various spots in the vacinity with carved stones showing beneath the brush. 

Paul and the strong men set to work moving large stones (the size of children) and clearning a path from the road to the wine press.  Katie and another friend were moving dirt from the wine press, and Emily and I were...moving rocks. Nothing fancy..until we discovered something.  We don't know what it was - if anything - but it appeared to be manmade.  While we imagined it to be a water irrigation system or an olive oil press, it could just as easily have been a toilet. 

Anyway, before too long we lost interest in the toliet and joined Katie at the wine press.  Sorting stones from plants from soil, carrying buckets of dirt from the site to the dumping spot - this archeology thing was losing its shine.  Then, I checked the box! As Emily carried away a bucket of stones, laying there covered in dirt was the handle from a pot! The first archeological find of the dig! I found it! Woohoo!!!  Emily and I carefully sifted through the soil and rocks and found about 15 small pieces of an orange ceramic pot with a zigzag pattern on it. We placed them all to the side on a tarp (for the real archeologist to examine).

My desires to work on an archeological site have been fulfilled - I'm done with that phase. Sifted through the dirt, moved some rocks, found a pot, checked off that box.

God, King, and Man in Thailand

Even from the air, there was something very different about Bangkok.  Green seas of forest and grass, and rice paddies in every direction met my eager gaze.  Life in the desert has left within me a deep huger for verdant mountains and swollen streams that this two-week training course in Thailand would surely satisfy.

 

And satisfy it did.  Seafood and rice noodles in a red curry and coconut milk soup...for a buck?  Yes, life was good.  I took full advantage of the project design and management course, but also eagerly abandoned the luxury hotel for visits to beautiful temples, enormous outdoor markets, or even the aforementioned soup. One evening after visiting a Buddhist shrine in the Ancient capital city dating back to 1357, colleagues and I had the most phenomenal Thai food on a boat docked along the surging river (this was during the worst flooding in 55 years). 

 

Aside from the memories of good shopping and excellent food, I left most impressed by three things about Thailand and the Thai people.  First, they are exceptionally devout.  There are Buddhist temples upon temples, especially outside the city.  On our drive to tour the Ancient Capital, Ayutthaya, we passed one beautiful temple complex after another.  Each included a rectangular stone wall enclosing a stone patio.  At the center would be a large stupa or temple containg a principal statue of Buddha and many smaller representations throughout.  Even in the rain folks would pour into the temple to make offerings of incense, freshly-cut garlands, lotus flowers, and charity.  Sadly, the temples outside the city were mostly under water due to the historic flooding, but the many temples and shrines within Bangkok were quire busy.

 

Another observation is that the Thai people deeply rever their king.  I did not encounter a single city block that lacked a poster, a shrine, or a photo of the King or Queen.  Even before "The King and I" play and movie popularized the Thai monarchy, foreign visitors to Thialnd have been impressed by the stong and positive feeling that the Thai people have for the royal family.  The present king, unfortunately, is frail and ill, and as a result the Thai people are quite pained.

 

But as with many top tourist destinations, what strikes one most in Bangkok is the people.  Everywhere one goes one is greeted with a smile, a slight bow with palms toughing (as in prayer), and a greeting of "sawadeecup!"  Their warmth was infectious, and their hospitality was greatly disarming.  Two weeks among these people is hardly enough time to make such sweeping generalizations about a kingdom and a people.  But it was long enough to remind me how dry is my desert.

Jordan Part Three: A Lemon Scotch

A lemon scotch - it's a drink.  You've probably never heard of it.  It is the English translation of the Arabic translation of whiskey sour.  Let me start at the beginning.

One of my favorite and most interesting things to write about is cultural difference. You learn quite a lot in the first few hours and days within a new culture and my trip to Jordan to see Dusty was no exception.

As I noted in Part One of the Jordan "chapter," I was greeted with smiles as soon as I crossed into Jordan. I stopped in at the tourists information/police office before heading into to town to make sure I didn't get ripped off, or do something dangerous and stupid, or end up in Saudi Arabia. While we technically live in the Middle East, Israel (and Tel Aviv in particular) is nothing like its neighbors. (Exageration - it is clearly much like Jordan than Alaska is like Jordan, but Alaska and Israel are probably more similar than Jordan and Israel...but I digress!)

Where to start....the Middle East is not homogeneous.  If you read our post from Egypt on womens' clothing (see photo on the left) you would see that there are variations in the level of conservativeness within the Muslim communities in the Middle East (in addition to the other large communities that are other religions). Within some of the most conservative sects women are almost completely covered in black except for their eyes and must be accomapied by a male family member when leaving the house (our friend here refers to them as ninjas).  Dusty had alertered me that the women he had seen in Aqaba (which weren't many) all had their heads covered.  So you can see that a young white woman, traveling by herself, without her head covered might draw some attention. But I'd learned my lesson in Egypt and came prepared to try not to offend the locals by wearing conservative tops, pants and having my scarf ready to wrap around my head. I don't mind covering up because then I don't get as many stares, I look like a smart and informed Westerner and I secretly feel like Jasmin from the movie Aladin when she sneaks out to the market! 

I've told you all of this so that you can fully appreciate this story:

If my traveling solo without a head cover wasn't enough to offend the locals, my presence in a bar (Gasp!)and the audacity to order my own drink would (oh the promiscuity!). Not only does the Middle East lack to wonderful drinking culture of Germany (in that it is controlled and tasty and cultural), but Muslims don't drink alcohol. This translates into more than just a bar of only tourists.  Because there aren't locals in the bars they are less busy. Because they aren't busy, the bartenders make fewer drinks. Becuase they make fewer drinks, they aren't so good at it. Thus, my general rule is to stick to beer which may be watered down but it won't be vinegar like the local wine and it won't be an overpriced softdrink with a splash of alcohol.  But as long as I was breaking so many cultural rules just by being there - I figured I may as well go ahead and take my chances with a mixed drink.

"Can you make a whiskey sour?" This was a question, not my order. Are you CAPABLE? Do you know HOW? The eager bartender smiled and rushed around the bar consulting with his colleagues. "Yes!" was the enthusiastic reply 5 minutes later. The poor guy confused Jim Beam and Johnny Walker, mixeing one part scotch with one part lemon juice.  I don't know the recipe - but it involves whiskey, not scotch and I'm prety sure it is more than lemon juice or they'd call it a whiskey lemon.  He did shake it up and serve it over ice.  :)

The bar staff all watched as I took the first sip. Mmmm! According to my Flavor Bible (thanks Greg!) our perception of taste is equal parts a.) chemical reactions to flavors, b.) temerapture and c.) the emotional environment (think of Thanksgiving dinner - as long as the food is hot and you are with family you will remember it as being a great meal).  I don't know if it really tasted refreshing and great, or if the genuine effort by the staff to make us feel welcome and fact that I was having a drink with my big brother compensated for the taste.  Either way - I made the bartenders day when I ordered another and I was more than happy to sip a lemon scotch if it meant more time with my brother!

Jordan Part Two:

“Are you with the USS Debuque?” “Yes ma’am, we are.” “Is the doctor here?” “No, he isn’t. Are you hurt? I can get you help.” I was so anxious I could barely say the next line! “I’m his sister.” The anticipation had been mounting, I had made it to Aqaba and I would hug Dusty any minute!

One of the highlights of my trip to Aqaba was getting to see my brother in his environment.  Not that I didn’t think my big brother was awesome before, but man! You could tell by the way everyone talked to him that they really respect and look up to Dusty – well most of them have to because he is pretty much a big deal on that ship.

The ship is striking (I don’t mean beautiful).  Dusty’s room is TINY!!! And he shares it with 2 other guys – what’s worse: it is a room for 6! Most everything is metal painted gray with white or red markings.  The “stairs” are more like ladders and the whole thing is a maze.  But the ship does have some really cool aspects which I got to experience firsthand – like the Capitan’s chair, the helicopter, the hummer ambulance and officers' dining room!  (I didn’t actually drive, fly or rescue…but I did eat!)

I could recount every detail of those two days if you would like; I cherished every moment for each one was worth more than I can say.