I’ve got to admit. Three things Parisians do better than anyone else in the world: everyone dresses in style – hair, garments, and shoes; men and women in general seem more in touch with their senses, emotions, and fine arts; lastly, restaurants, waiters, bakeries, and consumers – the whole food industry – in its taste, presentation, and mechanics all come together as one splendid delivery. Even the simplest pastries had me chewing, pausing, and looking to the heavens to ponder how delightful a simple pleasure could be…in a completely new way! Anybody who has been to Paris will understand. Eating in Paris is an exercise of the mind and a festival for the stomach…I’m thinking colorful balloons, small kites, and dancing penguins.

We accidentally simulated a brilliant local lifestyle by renting a room in La Defense, buying our supplies from the local grocer and doing the daily bakery shop breakfast routine. Strolling through town with Nadine, we slowly got the hang of things. Many friends said traveling with a baby would be difficult…and they were right! The main learning is to exercise patience and teamwork, level your expectations, pack a smart day bag, and plan at a high level where you want to go and what you want to achieve for the day.

Here’s the checklist of what we did…so tourist-snobby of us!

• La Defence
• Versailles
• Louvre
• Eiffel tower
• Notre dame
• Arch du triumph
• San Michele Latin quarter
• Opera
• St. Germain

As soon as we arrived, my cousin Banan’s husband Mahmoud Malakani greeted us in our room with a fresh baguette, fruits, and a morning tour through the neighborhood to get acquainted with the local amenities….

The rest is memories…will write more next time..

Got to run!

We just left Brunei…for good. (Sad face.) My work contract is over. Time went by so fast, the last year especially. I spent four years of my life on that island: I came as a bachelor, got married, and started a family with my first child in Brunei. Yes, we made some amazing friends, immersed ourselves in the intriguing culture, made a lot of mistakes, and learned more than a few lifelong lessons that we will never forget. Now, 5 days before her first birthday, Nadine accompanies us as we leave Brunei on our way back to the US.

But first…we’re going to Europe! The plan is to land in Paris in a few days and hit Spain and Italy as our main attractions. We may touch Southern France and Portugal along the way, all depending on logistics. That’s our high level plan – the details we leave up to our good friend, Serendipity.

Thanks to our world-famous, authentically-bearded Norwegian backpacking coach, David Gullhav, we have come to terms with what we’re going to call this experiment. I’ve been practicing my alibi in front of the mirror every day to make sure I get it right: “We’re going on a trip through Southern Europe for a few months until something stops us- money, health, or an opportunity.” I want to say backpacking, but a bit more refined with proper baby travel gear, etc. I will be interviewing for a job and taking care of some family business along the way. It’s a spiritual journey of sorts- something I’ve wanted to do all my life. I figured why rush to move back to the ‘burbs? Eventually we’ll settle down, accumulate nice worldly things and enter the rat race again in my beloved, industrious, insatiable land. Oh how I love and hate you, America. Looking back at it, living in Southeast Asia has changed me forever. Let’s see what Southern Europe has in store for us. I can’t wait. Got any travel tips for us? Let me hear them in the comments below.

But back to the story. Seriously. Jeita Caves (also known as Jeita Grotto) is an 8th world wonder. Mammoth and mini calcium formations of every color, shape, and size surround you as you walk through the silent mysterious caves that hide well-kept secrets of the past…humbly kept in their bosoms. This is Earth speaking in all its’ wonder and infinite natural power.

When I was surrounded by this miraculous structure, all I could think about is how loud, annoying, and tyrannical mankind is compared to a peaceful, silent, and forgiving Earth. Maybe nature was trying to teach us something?

So the water drops taught me a lesson. The one incredible thing that inspired me from the cave’s silently active demeanor was how a small effort over time can be multiplied infinitesimally into a large yield with patience and persistence. No matter how small you are, you can make a big difference. That’s how these caves were formed after all: trillions of consistent mineralized water drops forming at the bottom of stalactites.

My takeaway: “The next time you feel like nothing better than a meek calcium deposit, put your head to the grind and never give up…”

What really gave me a rush was looking down through the cave abyss and seeing that there were actually layers and layers of caves underneath the surface we saw. Whoa to what lives beneath – how small man’s wee-wee is compared to that of nature’s!

Jeita Grotto is located at Qornet El Hamra near Beirut, Lebanon.

View location in Google Maps

Go visit this natural wonder…the BBC-featured, one and only: Jeita Caves. [Insert Reading Rainbow theme song here.] If you’ve been there already, tell me what you think of it.

We splurged on the eating. We had some kick-butt Italian food at Little Italy. We marveled at the perfectly-baked Pizza at Toscany’s. Or was it Mai Yai Thai on the water front that stole our hearts? We hung out on Manukan Island and it was surreal seeing 3 islands on the horizon.

Back on the shores of the city, we caught The Next Three Days and Rapunzel…both great movies – highly recommended.

Anyways, we’re back in Brunei now – great trip! I love KK, don’t you?

Dirtiest border patrol I have ever dealt with. Talk about starting off on the wrong foot in Vietnam.

Here is my travel diary experience entering Vietnam through Lao Bao…

I got the full show. First, the immigration guy sneezed on my passport. Then he “accidentally” dropped my passport (3 times). Then after picking it up, he snorted mucus up his nose and hocked his throat while giving my passport a dirty look and looked me up and down like a 2 cent hooker. Then he picked his nose while flicking through my passport pages with the same dirty finger. I was like a rare game in lucky hands and I was treated like shit.

After 30 minutes of questioning about my intention to have kids and other communist trivia, a group of immigration officers started to form. First they made me smile for about half an hour to see if my picture matched that of my passport’s. My mouth got sore smiling and that has never happened to me. I mean this was a smart and creative way of torture, I was thinking. How smart of them – I could never really report this because they did not give me evidence to substantiate any significant wrong doings. It was just baseless humiliation. Then I thought, who do I report this to? I’m in there country. Technically, they can do anything they want to. I had put Vietnam on the map as a tourist destination and I was going to support their economy and this is how they treat me as a first impression?

By this time, I’m aggravated and wanted to turn back to Laos. For several hours, I was the entertainment of 7 lonely officers touting and squinting at me as if I was an alien from another planet.

After running out of jokes, the immigration officers came up with another torture idea. They made me sign a billion blank papers to hopefully prove I forged the signature on my passport. This was insane and retarded. Cooperating with a smile, I did so. Then I was asked to show 3 other forms of ID and they were still not convinced. In the end, the accused me of counterfeiting my passport.

After pleasing like a peasant and showing them my wedding pictures, I was able to slide by after hours of appeal. I bet they enjoyed seeing an American suffer and beg. That was probably the whole point of this saga.

But even then it wasn’t over. In agonizing pain, after being painstakingly convinced my papers were all in order…the officers turned their backs to me and spent 1 hour serving all the locals that had just walked up to the immigration counter. This whole while I stood in attention, in the cold, waiting. Even our bus driver tried to intercede but he was sharply reprimanded to get the hell out of the building with the carefree whisk of Hitler’s hand.

Now that we’ve crossed the border, I’m thinking what Americans did here during the war had a deeper impact than I had thought. I’ve got tons of Vietnamese friends in Houston. I’ve never seen anything like this from them towards me. What was happening here: can someone give me an explanation?

Zaatar w Zeit was our first stop to eat. (That’s the name of the place, by the way.) With its childish cartoon-like menus, it made for a great place to snack and dine with beautiful pastries stuffed and grilled in various flavors including zaatar oo jibneh.

We went to downtown Amman to visit the Roman amphitheatre ruins and that was simply amazing. I paused to think about the greatness of God having preserved the makings of man since 700AD. It is remarkable to see pillars some erect and some overturned,
shaping a piece of history where people used to convene to enjoy a show of entertainment – probably the height of stimulation in their days. To see the carvings on the pillars still noticeable and to think that a man’s hand left an impression that would last a century and a half was utterly inspiring.

We dashed out of there and headed to Habiba’s to chow down on some knafeh. Not as good as Syria’s but still it’s been forever since I’ve went to a knafeh shop living in Brunei. Inside the shop it was packed like it was going out of business. A bit too sweet but hit the
spot in a crispy sweet savory package for my famished tongue.

A couple of things I noticed. Compared to its neighboring country Syria, Jordan seems more mountainous and a bit colder than Syria all the time. The hills provide nice shade and tempting breezes for the pockets of town. The residential buildings all seem to have nice
exterior stone work and the streets have names unlike Syria. The Western influence on business is widespread and branding is taken a lot more seriously than it is in Syria. An issue apparently is water sourcing as it is rare and water gets cut off often.

Everybody seems to smoke argeela all the time. And lastly, the coffee shops and chill spots are more abundant. I would say however as we all agreed, Syria has more personality and above all is more original and peaceful and friendly altogether.

Our last stop was at Mayjanee where we enjoyed a spectacular lunch and a nice conversation under a lovely olive tree.

Amman would make for a nice place to work in the Middle East and hope to come back some day, especially to visit.

Now here are 10 things backpacking taught me:

#1 Live a compact life to be flexible to change and opportunities. It also helps you keep a clean head and rid yourself of futile worldliness.

#2 Be yourself: You shouldn’t worry about being different. You are beautiful within. Really, you are! People love it when you are yourself.

#3 Don’t be scared to experiment: Explore! Yes, go for the uncharted territory. The world is full of beautiful wonders and you have nothing to lose.

#4 Humanity is all basically the same: People all over the world have the same base tendencies. No matter what language and what color, we’re all the same. God put us on earth as one family.

#5 Don’t plan too far ahead: Just don’t trouble yourself. Plans always change and you should be ready for that moment with good humor because it will happen.

#6 Life needs a companion: It was beautiful being married and having a true friend accompany me. For survival and for love, you need another person with you at all times at best.

#7 Be safe: Yes, do take emergency supplies and survival gear. You never know when you will need it, so don’t skimp on it. Be adventurous and skimp but not on the wrong things!

#8 One dollar goes a long way: Be thankful. I never knew how poor people live. In the US, people are very spoiled. I am a bit more thankful for everything now.

#9 Muslims are everywhere: It’s a great passport to have, a Muslim identity. You are greeted and treated with respect all over the world, except in the US or Europe.

#10 Work is optional: Getting a job and keeping a stable job is not the most important thing in the world. One of our jobs is to make sure we are happy on the inside and spiritually whole. Attend to yourself and take time off to do what you want to do. Work can wait!

What? OK! So we caught a train to On Nut station with the store owner and went to the grocery store there setting out to buy ingredients to make Tom Ka Khai, Green Curry Coconut Chicken, and Pineapple Fried Rice.

I cannot describe how we turned a bookshop with a coffee stand into a full service kitchen! ….It’s like the Thai cook gained the ultimate pleasure seeing me trance into gastronomical ecstasy…

We bought an electric wok and stirred up fish oil and mushroom soy sauce like as if it was Chinese New Years all over again. I cannot describe the extent of hospitality and humor with which Thai people approach life. Cooking and eating and serving people brought this shop pure joy – I felt like my mother or sister was in the kitchen, asking me what I think of the food and if I wanted more.

“Basim! Where’s your spoon? Come taste this, mate” the chef frequently beckoned. It’s like the Thai cook gained the ultimate pleasure seeing me trance into gastronomical ecstasy. I was in pure heaven today and I will never forget the friendship that was built today and the generosity we received. Indescribable and unpredictable, that’s why I love Thailand.

Maybe it’s because people want good luck and to live a long life to enjoy worldly things. Maybe people create large things to make themselves insignificant and invisible? Is it for them to hide beneath? Why would man dedicate himself to create such large structure in the name of a God king with a body and spirit much like their own? What do you think?

I am here at the Killing Fields, remnants of the genocide of the 1970s where an estimated 1.5 million people died here under the bloody hands of the Pol Pot regime. This is too much to take in.

People were brainwashed that they had a mental disease called “thinking too much” and that they should release themselves to the free will of Angka, the supreme authority of the land. People were told that God had died and Angka would now sustain their needs. Educated countrymen were summoned forward for their skills in order to rebuild the nation…only to find out they would be the first to be massacred.

It turned out there was not enough fuel, time, or precious ammunition to deal with the thousands of citizens every day that needed to be evacuated from the cities to the countrysides to concentration camps to be murdered. Hateful human torture agents were trained and manufactured as quick as victims were being exterminated who would turn against their own people killing their families and friends for the lords of the land.

Somber, sad, stoic, sedated, sorrowful: this is Cambodian mood. In their Khmer eyes a million untold stories of the past.

Stripped of every intention of creativity, people mean business here. Differentiation is important because goods and services are plentiful and redundant. But people move so quick here, emotions and details don’t seem to matter in this big city. It’s name recognition and putting products in your face that sells.

In Laos, I noticed men mostly sit around and do nothing. Here in Vietnam, women work as hard as men do and even more. It’s like the whole society is working 24/7. It’s crazy like that!

Some parts of the city (non-central districts) are gray with smog, noisy with rattles of machinery, honking horns, yelling workers, and buzzing with 18-wheelers steamrolling the gravel all day long in the haze of pollution and randomness. The entire society looks converted into factory workers – the kids, taxi drivers, women and men all look like construction workers plowing in the industry. Manufacturing of steel pipes, fittings, cranes, and automotive parts – this is what surrounds you as you enter the big city.

Once you get to the heart of Ho Chi Minh, it’s completely different and highly modernized. All over though I must say people are very sincere and mean good intentions. We have met some on the nicest people during our travels here.

Motorbikes, overcrowded, and power lines running into each other. That’s Saigon for you with 8 million people bursting at the seams of this bustling capital city. Busy as hell is the name of the game here!

Government touches everything and processes are very serial, hierarchial, heavily bureaucratic, and corrupt of course. The common distribution of wealth idea does not work based on the buddy systems I have seen – people revert to bribes and having good contacts to get things done and from what I have noticed, that makes lower class people even more disadvantaged. Socialism is hard to implement with even distribution and minimal defects.

On the bright side making sustenance Men, women, and children here have convinced me that the Vietnamese are people of strong will, hard work, and relentless determination. They will make the impossible happen; if you just watch people you can catch their energy in their hustle and flow. People in Southwern Vietnam are very business-minded always trying to make an extra buck or two. As soon as your pockets give, smiles dissolve and the predator’s eyes lock-and-load on the next target. These soldiers have the soujurn swagger of a famished fighter on a battlefield fighting for a pinch of life. The energy is infectious. A bit like the ambitious “can do” bug you get by visiting New York City and seeing small people in a big city get by.

Wheeling it to Danang to get a visa extension. There better not be rain there or I’m going to kick somebody fat and ugly. Come ye Sun!

Oh yeah, no more temples. What a scam. I feel like they’ve built all these temples in Southeast Asia to boost tourism and steal backpackers’ lunch money. Nobody’s even using them for religious purposes – common folks never visit them. They’re even reconstructed without regard to the original structures. I rather watch the Discovery channel for high quality footage than riding a boat and hiking for 3 hours each. There’s just way too many to see and not enough time!

By far, Mr. Hung’s foodstall (near the river) is the best place to eat hands down. You can enjoy the best food here in all of Vietnam.

This is the most touristy town yet. But it is a good touristy town because the shopping, food, and people were great. We got some fake Lacostes, mini North Face backpacks, and some perfectly cut tailored shirts and pants for $10 a pop and we’re talking fabric and service with high quality. The party’s at Phuong 1 on 7 Tran Phu street.

It’s been a lively stint but I think 2 days is enough damage because shopping is the biggest pull here. As Lonely Planet jabs, all of a sudden backpackers after Hoi An are looking spiffy with their collared shirts and custom-made trousers. Now I look less like Gandhi and more like a tourist again. Mom, you’d be proud of me if you saw me right now.

Nha Trang! On a 12 hour sleeper bus, here we come…

People are genuinely happy here. Just today we found throngs of people picnicing on the beach eating rice and chicken for 50 cents and poking jokes with friends laughing from the tonsols of their throats. Are they happy? These people have absolutely nothing – no iPods, no cars, and no fancy clothes. They’re just roughing it and it seems from their outlook on life, they’re living a “good” life with friends, work, and family.

In America, we want more, more, more. Here, they have less, less, less and it’s working for them. All I remember from America is stress from work, stress from bills at home, stress from traffic, and stress struggling against the wake of mainstream being a Muslim. For me it’s truly more relaxing living here in Southeast Asia where you can be yourself and live a simpler life within a more wholistic society that possesses a balanced and blended value system.

I will upload past journal entries since the beginning of January along with pictures as soon as I get proper www in this country. Facebook is banned in Vietnam by the Viet Kong. Yes, they still exist and they stole my lunch money! Just kidding man.

I am now slurping like a slob word-class glass noodles for under a buck – living like a king. These food stalls really work the magic into these simple epicurean creations. Women just love cooking here. It brings them joy to stir up a storm and feed you and just wait for your reaction. People don’t speak much here, but you can feel their passion and their love for others. And you can taste it in the cooking. It’s flame-broiled love straight from the grill to your belly.

I never knew the power of fried rice. It must be the MSG or something but the rice or garlic or ginger or something in these dishes are rocket-powered. just bursting with fountains of flavors I have never quite tasted. Packed into a simple grain of rice, the people of Laos are able to do wonders in the kitchen.

Amazing it is the more you remove from your life the more powerful you become.

Like soldiers these trees stand in attention by the thousands on these picture-perfect hills. Implanted on the banks of the river you can spot feather-fragile huts fringed on cheap wood and hope from above. Lower in the shallow waters men poach the gentle passing stream for the catch of the day. People have a strong connection with nature here in Laos and rely on God’s primitive resources to afford daily sustenance. It’s a humbling life whose reigns are never in your hands. When a farmer or fisherman realizes his fate is not exactly in his control, this is called subjugation to God; he attains a calm and balanced temperament- something burnt out in the hearts of citizens making a living in the big city.

When goods and services are sold for more than what consumers are willing to pay, the market adjusts itself to accommodate; in a nutshell, an economic devaluation occurs.

The parallel that I am drawing is when the world gets to be too much to bear and you are consistently giving it your best, you have to get away and control your worldly desires. Turn away from life’s demands to “collecting things” and society’s imposed fear of poverty and get back to the basics. You can enhance your spirit by traveling to achieve a holistic self again – your equilibrium must not be neglected. Enjoy the childish things in life and do what makes you feel special again, even if it is foolish. This is what I learned today.

The monks here remind me of the tenets of Islam that preach simplicity, humility, and living every day as if it were our last. Traveling is like death because you take barely anything with you when you move on.

Later in the day. On a motorbike on the bumpiest and curviest road straight out of hell with a beautiful view of heaven right outside the window. Just barely swerved past a cow on the road. OK, I’ll write later when it’s less life threatening!

At sunset we went biking through the rustic villages around the 25,000 populated small town. This was by far one of the best ways to reach into the countryside and see the way people were living in this albeit slightly tourist-infested heaven. Kids were smiling, cows were grazing, and dads were sipping tea of course while the women tilled away at the fields.

Main attractions here include kayaking and tubing during the day and biking & meeting crazy drunks and Bob Marley look-a-likes at night. We met this one dude from Sweden working as a bartender who had decided to start working at Sabaidee Restaurant because he had 2 weeks left in his vacation. Inspiring!

This is a place for stoned hippies and shirtless soul seekers walking barefoot around town. Everybody is so high here, it’s not even funny. It’s a town stuck in the 1960s with a great outdoor culture.

I think we’re going to move on tomorrow. Heading North, captain.

So you might ask why the hell are you doing all these Western things in the middle of the Orient?

I must admit – day 2 of the trip and I’m at a coffee shop watching TV and having greasy pizza. Yes, even backpackers miss home sometimes. Around travel days, your full day is shot being lazy and coping with being human. You have to rest to be energized for the rest of your travels.

Travel mix up. The reason for this rush is I told the lady at Air Asia to book me to Vietnam and she booked me to Vientiane, Laos! We changed our whole travel plans but I think our plan B is going to work; just a lot of rushing through the first sites because I’m on a visa pinch.

Ok, enough depressing news – here’s an unrelated picture riding around in the city. There are tons of motorbikes here!

People are very peaceful and surrendering, warm and welcoming, and speak in voices quieter than pin-drops. We had some good spring roles here, curries, and noodle soup. We’re taking a bus tomorrow to visit some interesting sites.

Highlights of the day:

• Witnessing animists worshiping ancestors
• Getting served by 6-year old waitresses
• Finding 75% of people on motorbikes women
• Seeing French influence on a Thai-like country
• Meeting the most peaceful kind of people on Earth!

One love! This trip to Jamaica was one of the funnest events as a family that we have ever had. It was nice to eat and drink (Piña Colada virgin shakes!) at an all-inclusive resort. Even the sports facilities were amazing and very social indeeed.

How you like my Jamaican accent?

Long before the Europeans arrived, Arab traders plied the coastlines of the Malay Peninsula and Indonesia, bringing with them the teachings of Islam.

The Arab District remains a Malay enclave held firmly together by strict observance of the tenets of Islam. At the heart of the community is the Sultan Mosque, a beautiful site.

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 08:35:13 -0700

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Noura and I spent a fabulous Eid in this slice of heaven. KK is a short-stop before KL with a mild yet vivacious city climate and a silky serene island scene. We jettied our way to Manukan Island which is located just off the edge of earth between nowhere and no care. Shot great pics. Fabulous.

Nobody. I’m leaving Syria right this minute and I’m not very happy. Things did not go as planned – at all. I’m not very settled in Syria even as a visitor and that’s the problem I am struggling with. American-Arab as I am, Arab-American I am no longer. I am more another culture, maybe more American-Arab than ever. Nothing is as it used to be. Yes, that’s my ill and I am trying to beat it out of myself; exorcism from a rooted inconsistency within self. Some foreign element I cannot come to terms with so it must exit now.

I share only a past and a heritage with my country. We unite on a common history and religion and that is all. Masjid Al Amawee and good old people who remind me of older times are my links in. I cannot cope with the duality of living abroad and maintaining my local identity in Syria. I am even a foreigner here. Really, I am not fully congruent with any one culture. I have to be of both.

This year things have changed here. Let’s explore what’s changed for me this year; maybe in these events I will find my new self and the reason for my sad parity, my momental loss of self.

One, I got married and tipped the boat proving my Syrian side is stronger than my American side. I made a firm statement by doing that. My wife is Syrian and I speak more Arabic at home now and so that’s good. One would think that helped me get closer to my country. I correct myself: I still love the people and the language. Still did not do it for me…

Two, I moved to Brunei for an opportunity for career growth…and I have on the way made big leaps in personal growth. A quiet place very different from the rest of the world, Brunei that is. Different value system and a different interpretation of life and time it is living in near-Chinese Asia. Exact opposite of the Arab world. This topic needs another stretch.

Three, I moved into a home away from family. I’ve set up much to my own liking. I have probably grown deeper into loving my ways. Some of which were balanced wobbly between two cultures. Coming to Syria I’m nobody with value in the public eye except in the eyes of friends and family. Streetwise, I’m a stripped cob of corn as new as I am old and worthless.

It’s now becoming apparent how much I’ve evolved into the earth I have traveled. From America, raised Syrian, Muslim altogether, add fitting into Brunei after Oman, then subtract how much Syria has changed from the good values I know in it. The sum is an explosive figure that is hard to appropriate, each element counteracting with the rest. I wonder when faced with a decision, do I act American, Syrian, Muslim, or Bruneian? I am not to be envied. Now I know why I am so very indecisive about everything, including picking something to eat on a restaurant menu every single time.

Aside from this all, Syria itself has changed. At the departure hall. She’s with routine disgust calling for passengers to board the plane over the PA, shouting their names as if shaking their babies to death and threatening their lives with a microphone knife. What’s with the bad attitude? What did they do to you in cell 54? Why take it so personal if you’re a bitch and no one cares? This is my last memory of Damascus.

I wonder if they will ever wake up to a new amplitude, a new rhythm sonorous with the way everyone else sees it outside these gates of hell. Wake up to common courtesy and civility. Don’t tell me we’re Greek and loud so it’s OK! People are telling me I’m not understanding them here when I confuse jokes for insults. Well maybe I don’t. No wonder taxi drivers are the swindling devils they are here: people respond to fury with fury. Fire begets fire and nothing good ensues.

Don’t believe the talk. Nothing has improved since last year. Except for the shaded bellies of good faith and reputable lineage of good people, my country is befalling moral debauchery and urban decay. Why would I want any piece of this? Someone please remind me…back to Brunei Darussalam: abode of peace…

The remains of John the Baptist, the Son of Hussain, Sayyida Ruqayya, and Salahulddin Al Ayyoubi are all within dear proximity of your sturdy stone walls. Oh how I wish the days of old were still here. Imbeciles like me don’t know how to appreciate your glory as we flick and frolic around your holy grounds balking at what is a masterpiece of God, a place where roamed the greatest figures in history. I am honored to be in the embrace of your holy shade.

It must be the stress of our times in the Middle East; I have it really easy in Brunei and in America. I bet I don’t understand the grievances of my people here. I am not sure if it is an Arab thing or if we wear on our shoulders a model brain designed to overheat and explode with minimal provocation. Something about us keeps us downtrodden and distrustful of progressive thinking and new common values. I am referring to ideals such as smart work not hard work and integration versus self-sustenance and pluralism versus secularism.

The world is embracing diversity seamlessly and the divide is widening because we are getting more distraught with our love of self versus and progressing ourselves versus standing in line and doing things the right way. Will we ever catch up? There are no shortcuts to success; we must accept honesty, fairness, and common civility. I am starting a revolution with myself.

Nike air maxes, lotto’s, spiky hair, Nike bags, messenger bags with cell phone pouches, soft skin tones, low-rise socks, sandals, what looks like a highly-ornate Buddhist 15-foot totem pole, 3/4 capri pants, throngs of people…all converging, walking towards the immigration counter in Bangkok, Thailand, where I have just landed. And I could almost swear my $2.99 hairdresser is standing in front of me in line…

Basim: “No plans. Let’s just stay at home. Just chill. You know, it’s been a while since we’ve done that…”

Noura: “No way! Why don’t we go to Kuching?”

[24 hours later we’re on a plane eating peanuts...]

What a beautiful hidden city in Malaysia. It’s a perfect walking city and a great place to get away from the hustle and bustle of KL. Kuching was a pleasant surprise for me.

People are so nice and easy going here. The Sarawak people have this happiness and peacefulness about them. I’m glad I came.

Life in Syria revives my spirit and reaches my innermost feelings of belonging and patronage to a country I have learned to love. I may be going to Syria this summer!

Slipper merchants, people under cars fixing them in the middle of the roads, umbrellas to protect from heat and rain. Only 2 seasons here – hot season and rainy season. I think we are in both now. Bad time to be here as elections are coming up in 1 month and a lot of political and military tension. GSM shops to Pimp and Unlock your GSM. Buy Your Kerosene Here painted in army stencil font on a dumpster. Call Your Plumber and a phone number scratched on a cardboard sign. Busy streets with stares provoking us in our prissy oil & gas company bus escorted by a convoy on each side. People plowing fields with sickles! Muscles all over.

You can get anything here. You don’t even have to get down from your car; you pull up and the vegetable merchant comes to you and you can pick and ask for things from your vehicle window; query to cash. Old 1980 Benzes, demolished cars left and right, barbed wire brick walls around facilities. Harsh accents – clear and firm, people speak with undaunted confidence. I feel like I’m going to get a bullet at any minute. Oh, it’s only a couple of weeks…

Weather is a hot 85 degrees – I’m in safari clothes, just imagine. Got my bags and mobile e-mail access. Cell phone works. First thing I saw on stepping out after the escorts was a masjid and a church right next to each other on the near horizon. Allahu akbar, many Muslims in colorful outfits here! I am listening to Bob Marley in this Jamaica-esque minibus. Memories…miss you all!

Other than that, it was an insane feeling floating on water. I tried to drown myself. This time, it didn’t work. Get this: after this altered beast moment, I bathed in a fresh water stream with a half cut open Pepsi 2-liter bottle and changed into a 3 piece suit to attend Nidal’s sister’s wedding. The day after: hitched a taxi ride across the border to Syria to witness at dawn the call to Eid prayer with family. What a way to go out and reunite with family. They must think I’m crazy.

The Dead Sea: another must visit if you have never been!

I am rushing to etch some memories of this heavenly refuge on paper to preserve its beauty in my heart. The girls are working with smiles. I love who they are and I just met them 20 minutes ago. Something about them makes them feel like family. I can see right through them; they are not very complex creatures. This culture is very welcoming, hard-working, and…humble. Not flamboyantly proud, but satisfied and quietly content.

Outside, motorcycles catch my attention as I look up and gaze out through the window. Through the palm tree leaves, I see the Thai beach, crystals dancing in the fatherly son. The father looks down on Pattaya pleased with approval and continuance, diligently yet effortlessly serving its bounty. The leaves of the trees wave their fingers, tickling the air – hunched over the water – tending to their visitors, procuring shade. That is…during the day. In the menace of the night, it’s a completely different story.

The Thai ladies have silky coconut-soft skin, walking on the sidewalks of shops while they tend to their children or exchange innocent flirtatious smiles with passers-by. Free smiles are plentiful and go without earning here where the spirit roams free. The spirit has love, respect, an appreciation for life, food, animals, and family. I wonder what else they live for. It is absolutely amazing to see such a vibrant culture who is so full of the right character traits that is not on top of the world.

I am glad I was able to visit this land and understand their joys. I now understand the music. I sympathize with the poor, sick, and elderly as if they were my own family’s. I smile in admiration when I see strangers, wishing they could understand my cuckoo. They are not strangers! That word creates wide distances between the hearts. Just because someone across the world is different does not mean they are strange in the connotation of meaning weird.

One must seek to understand. One must wear their clothes, visit their land, eat their food, live their days and history to truly understand a people. I think people in America are too shielded from the true rip the skin off side of the world; really seeing what’s inside the world and its people and its history. When I lived in America, I thought the world ended between California and Maine. Imagine the effects visits like this could have on the world – it could really bridge the gap and make the world a more loving place. We have so much ignorance in the world, but I am not going to get into that and ruin the spirit. I love Thailand and I am definitely coming back soon!

Itinerary: Day One

• Grand Palace – Emerald Buddha Temple
• Canal Tour – Chopraya River
• James Taylor Tailor – Sukao Thai Road
• Royal Lapidary – Gemstone Manufacturer
• Rot Sabeng Restaurant
• Muay Thai Boxing – Ratchadamnon Road
• Centre Point Hotel – 15 Petbury Road

Itinerary: Day Two

• Pantip – Electronics Shopping
• MBK – Apparel Shopping
• CentralWorld – Shopping Mall
• Shogu Bushi – Sushi
• Tok Tok ride
• Hollywood Disco – Live Performances

Itinerary: Day Three

• Pattaya Beach…

The people are very innocent and detached from the outside world.Wherever you go, there is a small town feel to the place. The taxi drivers are very devout and peaceful and loving. You see, Omanis are not really stout, outspoken, arrogant, or lavish like other Gulf inhabitants may seem. Still, Omanis display their pride through the way they dress, the respect they show to their elders, and their village affinities.

Everyone speaks good English. People are really peaceful and open to Western ideas, but they do not rush to adopt them with blind passion as you may see in Beirut, for example. What I mean by ‘open’ is that they are not sold to misunderstood Islamic ideals that are very secular and unopen to the international world. That goes a long way for an Islamic state coming up quickly.

It is for this reason that I say that Oman has earns its gate to the international business world. Omanis language, food, tolerance, people, permitting government, natural resources, easy visa process, peaceful terrains, internet and 3G phone network infrastructure make it very inviting for foreign investments. Oman is rife with oil – Petroleum Development Oman practically builds the country, well for well. The place is growing by leaps and bounds. We tried to book a hotel and we had to go to nine hotels before finding a vacancy. Even the streets are packed – the city of Muscat can’t contain itself – it’s like the infrastructure is dated already compared to the growth the city is experiencing. A new airport is being built-in addition to Seeb International. It’s funny to see a small town grow. The perversions that it will learn will be horrible. Oh, the innocence it will lose…if only it could remain.

Ok, positive note. It’s unbelievable that in one of the hottest countries of the world there are beautiful beaches that make for beautiful getaways. Diving in Oman is a fantastic thing to do on the weekends. Oh, and did I forget the seafood in Oman is the best I have ever had in my life. Do try the prawns, King Fish, and calamari…

My conclusion on Oman is that it has a unique position in the Gulf, as compared to the towering empires of the Emirates nearby. Oman remains the peaceful, serene, innocent getaway – a fast competitive advantage and key differentiator. On the contrary, Dubai is hustling and bustling and overflowing with hype, style, energy, and pushing the edge to create the next world’s biggest this or that. Oman is not that. Oman is a counter-balance and is here to stay and flourish slowly. Because that’s the way Oman does it…

…and rightfully so. Oman is a great place to escape to get away and enjoy nature in a unique way in the desert.

Switzerland can be expensive. The weather is starkly cold compared to Oman. It has been a complete 180 for me. Going from secluded, dull, and hot to open, colorful, and cool was a complete change of pace. I feel a little ill; maybe it’s because of the drastic environment change. I’m rocking it out, though. I don’t get to come here every day now. I really wish my family was with me to experience all this beauty around me.

The green and blue go really good together here. The rolling prairies, picturesque mountains, white picket fences – it’s all too perfect here. It really seems the clock works slower here. I went to Heidi Park today. The story of the legend was pretty cute; you should Google it.

I get a feeling of elitist independence around here. Like people are completely unaware of the wars and movements happening outside the country. Not that it’s bad, it’s just so interesting each country is living exclusively its own past and executing on solely its own objectives without being very apparently aware of the outside world. Maybe it’s the socialist side of me. I’m not being a hater, this place is beautiful; just a thought that came to mind.

Anyways, was a really short trip. I desperately need to make it back here to catch winter on the Swiss Alps. Would love to test the slopes here. I think this has a completely different flavor when the winter blanket covers this heavenly country.

My hotel room was not bad. I like the warm color scheme, medium tone wood floors, and hi-tech gadgets throughout, although I didn’t quite understand the curious mix of retro-psychadelic floor rugs and modern furniture. Anyways, the room service was nice and it was nice to be escorted to the lobby restroom.

Dubai has done a marvelous job of attracting expats to live there. I mean, you have MacDonald’s there, Starbucks, T.G.I.F., Fuddrucker’s, Chili’s, IKEA, for god’s sake. Everything you could think of. Really pretty inviting, and with the masses of foreigners (i.e. non-Emiraties), you can feel at home while being away from home. That is, if you are into that kind of thing…

I actually don’t like the fact that 90% of the population is non-native. It kind of lacks the culture effect. It’s a fun place, no doubt, but no place to really live and raise a family. Definitely an exciting place to venture business, take risks, and meet some new contacts. It’s the hype factor- it keeps on feeding itself. Meanwhile, traffic is ridiculous and you kind of have to live with that.

After getting stuck many times in the sand, we learned and it was one of the funnest excursions I have ever taken. Our chief objective was to drive up every single sand dune at top speed and rock on down alive. It was the bumpiest ride ever and we were all hitting our head on the sides and roof of the vehicle. The pulse of energy was amazing and the dares kept on getting better and better. Mind you, we were 5 guys in the car all cursing and provoking each other on in the name of manliness.

Did I mention it was hot? I had 6 liters of water in a couple of hours – it was crazy. Yeah, so we also took a huge watermelon and a plastic knife. That, and a soccer ball. But it was hot as hell and the sand was totally unbearable on bare foot. Still we raced and played soccer and took all these crazy pictures, some of which you see here!

I don’t think I have ever been hotter in my life. Sweat was pouring down my body by the bucket. The nicest part of it all was that there was no one in sight, save a couple of Bedouin tents we found here and there. The desert landscape was perfect and beautiful, unmarred by any human impressions – impeccable. There are few scenes in nature like this – the sand was vast like an ocean all around us; the turmoil of it deadly if unaided.

So there we were, driving through the sands, and we see some camels just chilling there. This desert was the real thing. It was just like the movies. Something about it was very peaceful; nothing in sight, just the whirring whisper of the wind. There is no feeling like the tart bite of the desert – a reminder of death, the strength and desperation of solitude, and the power of God.

Today I spent my second day in Córdoba. I’m taking tons of pictures, video, audio recording. I don’t want to leave!!! This is like Syria with a different twist and also beautiful people. Allahu akbar. Allahu akbar I say with the same voice you do when you see this diversity. God gave them Islam and they took away our opportunity to display its vanity and sheer success. If you haven’t been to Córdoba, you really need to come at least once in your lifetime. The resemblance of culture, architecture, and food to the Middle East is quite striking – a real treat to witness the beautiful influence of our Islamic history.

I love life here. Everyone gets together to enjoy life. Girls and guys holding hands. People randomly dancing in the streets- outbursts of laughter from the heart. Groups of 4 and 6 and 8 friends walking around, saying jokes. Not too much American influence but it exists. The girls are so unprissy and easy to please and talk to. They ask you questions instead of being locked up and reserved. Waistlines all perfect. Classy dresses and style like JCrew and then a scarf or shawl. The girls are the most beautiful I have ever seen in my life, I can’t stress this enough. It’s as if God blessed every girl here with beauty…every single girl on the street from Sevilla to Spain is stunning. Girls with cinnamon skin, perfect waistlines, dark and enchanting eyes, passion in their voice, their addiction to smiling, their free and dancing spirits…even older women in their 40s are very classy, talk very expressively and courteously.

It seems everyone gets along here. Arab-like upbringing and family discipline. The dads I talked to are like they are young and happy enjoying life. They are so positive overall and the young and old, husband and wife, and elderly all roam the streets, dance, take interest in your conversation. Nobody I ever asked for directions showed me they were in a hurry. They touch you a lot when they’re talking to you. Call me weird but I like the close comfort zone labido – it reinforces trust when its with guys, and turns me on when girls do it. I’m like uh-huh I’m sorry, then I turn izquierda??

The little girls are so cute here. This one was fascinated with my camera. She was adorable! Kid teenager not much younger than me said de nada hombre when I said thank you. Respect is key. I treasured those words. I speakish Spanish nowv. Ok I tell you. I started out yedsterdays not knowing how the people. En…I was like in state of Chaos…I was not smiling, not talking, when I saw a beautiful girl (like every girl that passes) in my mute frustration I’m like beh beh beh like a caveman. The power of language is an amazing catalyst. So then I remembered what my friend advised and adopted a cute smile. It helps that I am happy and so I learned…smiling is required with everyone you talk to. I like feedback. Since I like it, people like receiving it and feel unattached and threatened when you don’t respond back frequently, when you don’t smile. People actually want you to talk to them! When I got that in my head, I tested it and it kept pinging back successfully. True I lost my bags first day but I was like screw it, think the positive side…I didn’t have to tout my luggage. I was negative yesterday in the beginning and saw negativity all around me. Then I judged negatively. Being negative is unfair to others and your perception. I conclude people have a right to your happiness.

I have found out a lot about life and myself while traveling. And yes, I am independent but u should have seen me yesterday. Traveling without conveniences is a true test. No bags, poor language, cold in shorts, no group, limited time. I was literally walking in circles for an hour before leaving the airport to the clutches of the city. I was waiting for a plan but that was never served. Then I busted out, got lost, got frustrated, I shut off my feeling of pain in feet, need to use restroom, need to eat voices to go into full lean and have fun exploring mode and my body responded positively.

I feel like I’m in an old black and white history book. The owner of this hostel is treating me like his son, he tells me where to go, what dishes have pork to avoid. He promised me a tour tomorrow morning just to chill. Ill probably pick up his dinner tab. Speaking of which, I lost myself writing. Its 3am I’m going to take a walk. I’m going to take an Arab Bath at this place tomorrow morning. I’m resting between my 6 hour walks here! Voy a regresar a Sevilla mañana. Still, indescribable. Spain is all that I fantasized and more…I am really in love…in love with gods wonders…in full stupor of how I choose to live elsewhere.

With lots of love…adios!