Journey to Dreads

Dreads!

It’s something I have always wanted – right when I was a teenager. Growing up in Cameroon though certain things automatically catapult you into a bad boy group. Tattoos and dreadlocks were high up there and anyone who wore one would feel the piecing eyes of judgement and dissent.

I’d never be in a corporate job back home wearing dreads- we have to comply to European beauty standards. I’m not even going to go into what is expected of girls!

So we’ve ditched what is natural to us to adopt another – yet again.

How bad is it ? There is an armed conflict escalating back home. I spoke to my mom and told her I was going to come home for a short visit and she pleaded with me not to- her exact words were “if you come with your hair like that you will be shot!” Now changing the narrative is something I have always strived to do. Not just for myself, but for others like me. I used to be upset when I got stopped and profiled at airports. But I actually now look forward to it – because the more I’m stopped and found to be nothing more than a traveler, (hopefully) the less the profiling and stereotyping of others.

I’ve been in situations where people confidently come up to me to as for contraband and sometimes express some shock when I tell them I have nothing to offer to them – but a hug 🤗 It’s sad but that’s the world we live in.

Wearing my dreads every day is a message for myself and for others like me, to those who don’t see us as we are. We are normal, regular hair loving people and love to have it worn this way.

So it took a while for me to finally get on board with growing my dreads. There were some external factors.

One prominent amongst them was a story I read about girls in South Africa being sent home from school in order to go straighten or cut their hair! Read that again!

Their parents had to come and protest at the school for days and eventually the story caught media attention worldwide.

I told myself this was one fight I would want to be in, not to throw punches but because representation matters, the more we are, the more it becomes normal.

Though in defiance, I also will not allow myself to be judged.

Historically men have also worn long hair. You look at most indigenous tribes and the males wore long hair and most of them naturally rolled up into dreadlocks. Crazy that we travel around the world to go see and experience the simple and rich lives of these people and sometimes wish it were like that today. The native Americans in the east, the Masai in East Africa, the Samurais in the Far East, the Maoris and Samoans, the list goes on and on.

But more than the looks of them from the outside, there was and is a distinct way in which these people carried themselves, you can feel the energy around them and see it in their eyes, people of high caliber and values.

It’s some of the things I am trying to incorporate into my own life daily. It is helping me build better habits and values.

“It’s (not) just hair” as some have said. But it’s a starting point or continuation of an ascension to an improved version of myself

Transformation.

This was the third and final reason I was growing the dreads. Having been for the most part in a comfortable place things were starting to shake up in my life. Difficult moments were clearly mapped out ahead of me and I had to be able to approach these with some sort of navigation.

Nothing wakes you up more than the certainty of an imminent and confirmed doom. Giving up was not the answer so I had to prepare myself in every way possible to face this.

One of these was working on the inside job – the spirit. It took a few trips to mountains and ceremonies in which I did nothing but listen to myself, identify my strengths and weakness and look for areas of improvement.

I was advised to have something physical to look at to remind me of the work I was doing, to keep myself grounded. You know, like the guys in the movie Inception, in which they had totems to let them know if they were in a dream or not. Then someone asked me what’s up with my hair and out of nowhere I replied “as my hair grows, so does my spirit”.

And that was it, my hair was going to be my totem through this journey a reminder as to the person I was molding myself to be through the tough times to become a me that I am pleased with every day.

Locked in these hair fibres are my stories, a record of my energies and emotions. I can tap into them whenever I feel the need to.

Moreover, it is a hairstyle made for my hair.

An extension of character and to the soul, a filter to the type of people I would like to meet( using the bias to my advantage). The people who take the time to get to know you despite the “outlandish” hairstyle.

People who are strong, self-assured with a good sense of who they are. This is just one of the may good qualities people with dreadlocks have which I love.

And then there is the defiance of western standards to beauty, a racial or cultural connection, an expression of freedom, sometimes a fashion statement or simply a way to express individuality.

And yeah, it’s also cool

WAKANDA FOREVER: CAPTURING THE GLORY OF MAMA AFRICA!

BY SPENCER NJOYA

EDITED BY KENNETH FOMUNUNG

1.jpg

So we are just a few days away from one of the most anticipated movies of all time–at least for most black folks. I don’t think there’s ever been so much hype around a film in my time that resonated very deeply with the African community. Maybe not since Chaka Zulu. I was just a kid then, and yet I still remember when my dad brought home the VHS tape; it was a family screening day, and we were not disappointed. So here we are again with another banger–a black superhero. Scratch that–a family of black superheroes from an incredibly wealthy nation in Africa fighting other black superheroes or supervillains if you will. Read that again!

While most of the movie was shot abroad with an almost all-black cast, it nevertheless tells the story of a wealthy nation (as most African countries are), which managed to own and control its own resources (as most African countries should), with internal power struggles (as most countries in the world do). However, besides the exalted action, the movie has borrowed several cultural aspects from across the continent, some of which I would like to highlight. This article is an effort for non-native audiences to understand why distinct visual features in the movie are the way they are. As an aside, the fact that I am promoting the African elements herein doesn’t mean that I am against their Western counterparts. I merely feel it is imperative to understand and respect the African cultures the latter has borrowed from for generations. I also urge you to read with an open mind and refrain from judging the culture from just your cultural standpoint.

The fictional African nation of Wakanda is a country rich in resources, one in particular called vibranium, upon which its citizens built the realm itself. This notion is pure speculation as I have not seen the movie yet nor have I read the comics, but I assume this is how they leveraged this unique, scarce resource. Today, in the real Africa, some of the rarest and most precious metals lie in abundance throughout the continent, but ironically, many citizens of the nations that contain these gems are living below the poverty line. There are countless debates on how this could be improved, but I digress. The richness of the continent cannot be measured, but if you take a moment and explore or do some research, you’ll notice a few things. Your phones and laptop work efficiently because of a particular rare metal called tantalum, mined in the Congo. Moreover, bananas, timber, cocoa, coffee, and many similar raw materials and natural resources all come from this beautiful but often inaccurately depicted continent. Now, let’s dive into my cultural highlights from the sure to be blockbuster flick:

Face Paint

Screen Shot 2018-02-14 at 12.21.35 AM.png

fp1.jpg

Screen Shot 2018-02-14 at 12.22.14 AM.png

Considered primitive in the Western world, for most tribes in Africa, this is an indication of beauty and also a status that conveys a strong cultural message. In some tribes, the men elegantly wear face paint to attract their female counterparts. It is slowly disappearing in the regions that are becoming more ‘modern’ but can always be spotted worn at cultural celebrations and by families or people with a distinguished lineage to protect.

Scarification–as seen on Erik Killmonger.

Screen Shot 2018-02-14 at 12.22.41 AM.png

Another rarely seen feature, this practice is a core part of African history and tradition. Depending on the pattern or location of the scars on the body, you could easily deduce from which tribe the bearer hails. Sometimes, the scar bearer viewed his marks as a rite of passage, and proudly so. In some West African countries, it was considered an indication of one’s life stage, such as adulthood/puberty, and marriage. You could also identify what social class a person belonged to by their scars. Sometimes, the bearer acquired these marks as a treatment to a particular type of sickness, wherein the traditional doctor or “medicine man” scarred the skin and placed the remedy just underneath the surface.

Spirituality and Ancestry.

Screen Shot 2018-02-14 at 12.22.57 AM.png

Ancestry is one of the most notable aspects of the many diverse cultures across Africa. Why is this spiritual? Well, because in African culture, there is ultimate respect for the people who came before you, your elders; more so, those who have passed away ahead of you. Till this day, people often speak of their grandparents and great-grandparents as though they were gods; their names are considered holy, and their descendants take much consideration before naming a child after them. People also made pacts in their names, and some people were cursed in their names as well. Their names carried power and near-deity status. In certain places, if your father placed you at the edge of a cliff and asked you to jump, the only question you could ask in response was, “How high?” While this might seem harsh, it is not; it is considered an exercise in building strength and trust in the leader preceding you, a leader you would become someday. In such a culture, you inherit what your elders created, and you build upon it, protect it, and ensure that it is respected, just like young T’Challa inheriting the kingdom from his father, T’Chaka, in Black Panther.

Spirituality and Masks–as worn by Erik Killmonger.

Screen Shot 2018-02-14 at 12.23.20 AM.png

Screen Shot 2018-02-14 at 12.23.37 AM.png

Here is another rich, vibrant, and a diverse cultural feature that is also–unfortunately I might add–often associated with primitiveness. On the contrary, in Africa, it is associated with spirituality. The person who wears the mask loses their human identity and transcends into the spirit represented by that mask–commonly known as juju back in my place of birth. They become superhuman, not bound by the natural laws of the human dimension. Some of these jujus rarely surface in public view and, when they do, something remarkable is unmistakably up. You can say both the Black Panther and Erik Killmonger transcend into a different realm or higher plane of being by wearing their respective masks. They become superhuman, fittingly.

Architecture.

Screen Shot 2018-02-14 at 12.24.26 AM.png

While the most common representation of Africa by the Western media is one of safaris and huts in the wild, Africa possesses some of the oldest structures on earth, built long before the Colonial Era. For example, there are pyramids in Sudan we never see pictures of, Stone Town in Zimbabwe, which is now a world heritage site, the Nubian pyramids, just to name a few. Believe it or not, I could go ahead and write more, but I felt that these represent the few most famous African cultural traditions I could bring to your attention from watching the trailer. I imagine the full-length movie will reveal a host of other such intriguing cultural elements worthy of a follow-up article. At any rate, I hope you found this write-up useful and join us in celebrating this glorious work of art that is soon to unleash the glory of African lore and heritage all across the big screens nationwide and take Hollywood by storm. In conclusion, I have just one more thing to say, “WAKANDA FOREVER!

The corporate and urban hippie!

“Urban hippie” and “corporate hippie” are just some of the few tags I have been given over the last couple of years. I don’t mind them, I mind that I am reaching out to people in any way possible. People who know me now assume I just got into this way of life. I’ve been on it for half my life! I was introduced into metaphysics when I was barely a teenager to help me cope with issues I had growing up. It hasn’t been a steady course, it hasn’t been easy and I still have a long way to go. It was way difficult when I was younger as I grew up in an environment where Christianity was strongly observed and anything else was heavily frowned upon and you were subject to all sorts of misinterpretation, name calling and shunning. So it pretty much was a very very tight circle without a lot of freedom to speak or express your true thoughts on certain things. But that didn’t deter me from seeking what I consider my truth and my center. Some of my friends say I’m woke, enlightened and lucky and I just laugh. I laugh because I think of myself as a joke and the thought that I am here to save someone else just cracks me up as I haven’t even figured out a way to save myself if I needed saving from. A few sometimes reach out to say thanks and I’m glad I left a positive impact in their lives no matter how small. I don’t know it all, I don’t know much, what I do know is that the enlightened one is the person who pushes his boundaries of knowledge and always eager and willing to learn new things, ways of life and really just to listen to others to get their perspectives. That’s why I love exploring the world, I get to see the world as it really is and not as it is described. There is a huge difference. I’m working on giving back as well in any way I can, I share whatever knowledge I feel I have acquired to whoever is ready to listen and in the process I learn from them too about their mindset and why they see things the way they do not forcing anything on them. A while ago there were things I was certain I knew and oh my how that has changed, that’s the progress I’m making. I am psycho, I am calm, I am wild I am Free, I am chained, I am every emotion there is to feel and experience…

I am you, you are me, we are all in this together and non the wiser. I cannot separate myself from you just like the sun can’t separate itself from the earth and the planets around it, and the galaxies around it and everything that exists, we are the cosmos we are all from it and in it. When this is understood we will all then collectively evolve as our consciousness grows and we will genuinely feel and care for each other and heal and it doesn’t matter if you are a hippie or not it just matters that you are in touch with your consciousness.

Stop taking life too seriously!

On Friday I spent 4 hours listening to a mystic – Sadhguru. He’s the first guru I have watched live delivering his speech to about 6000 people. When I heard he was coming to dubai I had already committed to doing something else with some friends and just didn’t know how i will make it there. I anyways put it through to the cosmos and let everything play out for itself. The day came, I honoured my prior commitment and left to see Sadhguru speak. Everything was falling into place. I am one of those people who lives to see the day that science and spirituality are bonded together and he spoke of both in unison which made it even more exciting for me.

He broke down his talk into 3 sections but talked about them all together referencing one or the other at certain times – self significance, Pride and Ego. What amazed me was the ease with which he spoke, he made it seems so so easy with the way he delivered, making you wonder why you make the decisions you make which only come back to haunt you. I’ve never paid attention to someone this much but not really paying attention because he wouldn’t let you to, he cracked a joke every 2 or 3 minutes, and if there was one thing I could take from his talk was that we should stop taking life too seriously – Self significance. We should enjoy life as we are meant to, enjoy the moments. He spoke of how we have evolved to a species where we have pretty much sealed our survival through evolution and we do not need to worry about survival. Now that that is taken care of we have to focus on living, living the right way, living through experiencing life to the fullest, noticing the things going on around us and those special moments. He spoke of how we have more often than not decided to make sweet moments brief and painful ones long! How we go about creating drama in our lives instead of just letting life play out and we enjoy it. Like someone or a kid who sees a butterfly for the first time – the excitement is usually through the roof – they become the butterfly as in they start jumping and flapping around in excitement themselves. Then he spoke about us and the cosmos, our place, that nano spec that we are relative to the size of the cosmos, we feel bigger than ourselves, than others, than nature, fighting it in every way we can trying to conquer it because we truly feel like it’s ours to conquer – and being serious while doing so identifying with the compulsive self instead of identifying with our consciousness. You can’t fight the cosmos, it has always been here, it’ll always be there, we will perish, everyone has a final destination on this earth- at least for now – death. No one is getting out alive of this one. We need to learn about the union between ourselves and the other, the other being everything else, we are because they are. Without the other there really is no us- makes sense? And about life- we decide what our experience of life is, everything happens within you. You decide how to react or not. Everything comes from within, we are all of this world and not apart from it.

On to intellect – our intellect works with what we identify with. The things you identify with build you into who you are, some of them are easy to comprehend, others not so much. The advise was to identify with our ignorance. When you know that you don’t know but willing to know that is where you grow, that is where you move upwards if there was a direction to move to. The enlightened one is not the one who knows everything, it is the one who doesn’t stop learning, the one who takes every piece of information and looks into it. We mistake information for intelligence, what if we had the wrong information?

Then he ended by saying the sun came up on time today. I wasn’t sure what to make of it but he went further to explain. We as a race have decided that the sun comes up at certain times throughout the year, the earth spins around the sun as so do the other planets, uniquely positioned in such a way that each planet stays on it’s lane, the orbit and wobbles while doing so creating the various seasons we have, but the sun is there- it is always there, we are moving around the sun, not the sun going up or down. If we were left for about 18 minutes (or hours, not quite sure) without sunlight every living thing on earth will perish completely. Now when you think of it this way – yes the sun really does come up on time every single day. It is significant and these are the joys we should be paying attention to every day, the simple things. Like breathing, the day you stop breathing is the day you transition back into the other realm of the cosmos, can we confidently say we are ready to make that transition today? Live wisely, don’t take life too seriously, a quarter million people die every morning – if you are not one of them, that alone is a reason to be ecstatic about life.

2017 – you’ve been magical!

2017! What year you have been, I can’t even write about it constructively because the information download was just too immense and I am still struggling to process it all. It was an awesome year and one which lasted 12 months but I lived through it like it had been 5 years. It was by no means slow, it was very fast, but the amount of things I had to learn in this short time would have otherwise taken about 5 years for me to finally get them. It was another year filled with travel, a one which most of the destinations didn’t matter but the journey to them was key. Like when I was heading to the Everest base camp, reaching there became more and more unimportant as I got closer to reaching it. What was key was me enjoying every other moment on the trek there, meeting awesome people and observing everything around me and taking it all in. A year where I got to process a lot of emotions I had kept in me for so many years, a year during which I purged myself and became this version of myself. It wasn’t easy, removing certain habits or “truths” instilled by me/family/friends/environment was very difficult. I was clinging to many things thinking they were important for me and they only stalled my growth, I managed to get rid of some of them and still working on others. It’s been a year of too much information download, it scares me when I think of all of what I have learnt. A year what I learnt what it really means to be there for another person, a year where I was yet again shown unconditional love and support from the people near and far away from me. A year where my consciousness was dialled up by 10000%!! Life has not been the same since then. It changed me, in a good way. A year in which I think I finally got to understand what my purpose as a human here on earth is and how to go about it. A year where protecting my energy became a primary priority. A year where I learnt not to be a people pleaser but to focus on myself first. A year where I learnt how important it is to keep your word. A year where I learnt to see things just as the way they are and not complicate them further. A year of warmth, love and acceptance, a year of abundance. I also learnt again what gratitude is and how to practice it again, a year where my soul journeyed into other planes and showed me what passion is, what love is, what life is, what purpose is, what friendship means, what support means, what empathy means, what compassion means. A year where many existential questions were answered. A year I learnt not to resist life, to just be, to acknowledge my feelings, to really live! I get goosebumps reminiscing all of these things but I know I haven’t figured anything out yet- it was just the beginning. So thanks 2017 for the accelerated growth and all the lessons, you’ve been really good to me and I truly appreciate that. Now on to 2018 to continue the magic!
Happy new year!

Tell your Story

15542057_10157917102225052_746093461838035424_nUntil the lion learns to write, the story will always glorify the hunter -African Proverb.

This post is not an anti-anything post. It is a pro-african post. Yes, you can be pro something without being against another. That’s the misconception we have bought into so many times it’s become very easy to just feel like we are being attacked or not supported if someone is pro something we are not. I’m going to try to concentrate on what I know, based on my experiences and just try to promote my African brothers and sisters to do more for themselves.

We are in an age where everyone has access to social media, blogs and phones. Everyone can come out and tell their stories but I don’t see that happening enough from my fellow africans. Let me narrow it down even further, I don’t see that enough amongst my fellow Cameroonians. The last 2 years have been terribly bad back home, there have been strikes, uprisings, deaths and massacres due to political unrests and it has barely made it to the news. It barely had any type of international recognition and all the while it was happening, people were being told to take pictures and videos and tag the western media so that they come and report it on our behalf. Well, as you may have noticed, we were not a priority for the western media even after more than 100 people were killed and abducted and not a single finger was raised by the west. They were busy, they were covering the Catalan crisis on the same day- with not deaths. A few of my Facebook friends were obviously appalled by the situation and I asked them what they had done to draw the attention of the western media and they had no answer for me apart from anger  and disgust at the treatment. This usually boils down to us having all the resources and nothing to show for it which is also true.

There’s the other narrative of Africa being unable to support itself. We all know that is not true. There is a system which is set up and in place by the corrupt western leaders and African presidents they have propped up there to serve only themselves and not the people. This is a well known fact amongst us yet we allow it to continue happening, we grew up with it and it has become a part of us, to just watch and pray it changes without ever really taking any type of action. I am not saying we do not need help, everyone does in life, we need help to plan our cities better, to train our own engineers, to teach our kids. We need help in training ourselves to become these same people we look up to. We do not need people to come and feed us everything and not teach us how to farm. We do not need people to come and mine all the minerals and not teach us how to do so ourselves. We do not need to be left in the dark. we have sadly left ourselves in the dark and are distracted by everything else.

Wake up people! Who do you think feels better? A volunteer who spends time educating children in a village with no electricity or water or the kid who eventually has to drop out or miss out on that education because they need to support their families from a very very early age- in the form of labor? The volunteer has done their part, they have come in to teach, but the infrastructure is not in place to make this education worthwhile so it really is wasted time for the kid not the volunteer, they have done what they can and will feel good about it.

Tell your story, I am one of many who grew up shielded from a lot of the problems back home and I must say I had an amazing childhood. If there was any such thing as black privilege  then I must have had it. I wasn’t raised by my parents alone, I was raised by a community of loving humans in the form of immediate family, cousins, friends aunts and  uncles and sometimes even strangers. It was amazing, people were looking out for each other. My mom could leave me to go play more than 4km away from my home because she was sure one of the bigger boys will walk me back home. Me returning home safe was guaranteed, apart from the occasional wounds and scars from falling which even if she was there would not have been able to stop it from happening.

Now to the fellows in the diaspora. There’s the issue of foreign remittance. Yes is does help and changes lives back home but the issue with it is that it is being heavily relied upon. Take for instance the person who sends back 100$ every month back home as an allowance to a relative or a dear friend. I know people don’t starve back home for sure so I’ll go with the assumption that half of that money is not used for food (I may be wrong though). Most of that is really excess money for them to spend on clothes and shoes and other fancy stuff. Now hold on an sending that money back home and sincerely ask this person what plans they have for their own future and how you can really help. Most people really just want to start a business and support themselves and they too are tired having to rely on people abroad sending them money in small chance every month or two. Now don’t you think if you saved up that money for a year and sent it to said person as a block amount – and in so doing have helped them have enough to start a business to take care of themselves and family. The responsibility to grow this business is left with them and you are out. Make this a firm commitment to yourself and the person so they know you will not be there again to just send them money if they can’t use this one wisely. This will definitely ring a bell and if the person is any wiser they will stand up for themselves.

Narrow your beneficiaries. Yes you have to help but you can’t save everyone. What I mean by this is just as I have explained above about helping one person starting a business, is that you have to help in the right way. Now most of those abroad support more than five people with little amounts every now and then. That usually doesn’t amount to adequate support because you are stretched thin, they don’t get the right type of help. It’s like a single doctor being in a hospital full of so many ailing patients, he can only do so much to treat them and some of them will not get enough attention. Find a right number and take charge of these from start to finish. Pick that one child and sponsor them from primary school till they graduate from university for example. You would have helped educate someone and he will know the better and be a far better person for his community.

Give back to your community. You have to do this. Communities build nations. Donate your time and energy to a local project and see it through. Most of them don’t cost money, only your time is needed. There are lots of them so please pick one and pour your energy into it. Be part of something being created. Money doesn’t always fix everything. Those abroad look back to your community and see what you can start there, talk to people and see what they need to improve their lives and get involved in any way you can. You can also support anonymously if you wish, but please do something.

We are the lions and we are being hunted because we do not have control of the pen and the stories are being told and written for us. The hunters are being glorified because they have control of the pen. Now let’s rise to be the lions that we are, reach out to one another and get the type of help you seek. There are lots of people waiting to be called and contacted. If you have an idea, share it with someone and build that great community we grew up from. Stop the gossip, start the real talk! Let’s rise and tell our stories through our words and actions.

Journey to the Himalayas: Humanity, Nature, Eternity!

A good traveller has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving. – Lao Tzu

I read the quote above somewhere just around the time I was making final preparations for my trek to the Everest Base Camp a few weeks ago. I resonated well with me as I have always wanted to take this trip but just didn’t find the right time or space to have it. I was either tied up at work, off season, not enough preparations or something just being out of place. This time however, the mountains had called and I answered. Everything had just managed to be perfectly aligned and I could finally make this trip. I made the necessary preparations and bookings, got my gear and took off for Nepal. I was nervous, yet excited. I asked myself if I was going to be able to do this successfully without any major side effects. I was terrified of Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS) but most of all, my heart was already on the mountains. I couldn’t wait to get there, to listen to my thoughts, to see the wonders of nature, to set my eyes on the highest point on earth My experience was threefold.  Humanity! Nature! Eternity!

Visiting Temples in Kathmandu

Humanity!

There’s something about small cities which you really can’t describe. It’s the little things you don’t see but feel, the noises you hear, the harmony in chaos and the most of all the acceptance of every type of human as just barely a human and nothing else. There’s a certain lingering smell in the air which you don’t care about because you are very much focused on the energy and vibes you are getting from the people passing by. It’s warm, it’s nice and there are people from every walk of life here living in perfect harmony. You have the corporate type and the progressive type all in one place chatting away on a common topic with hearty laughs. There were those dressed as Pirates and Rastafarians, the hippies and spiritual gurus, talking to the young backpacking students about life from experience yet did so in a way as not to impose any views of one group to another. Organic conversations which started with one thing, took a totally different direction and grew into an uncontrollable discussions about love and passion then finally settled into everyone just looking into the distance imagining what could be, how beautiful and much happier the world could be if all what we had just discussed could actually be transformed into action. The daydreaming will last only for a few seconds until one person breaks the silence by affirming with a confident proclamation that yes, we are indeed living life the way we want- mostly! It was nothing like I had ever experienced before. I had a conversation with a girl who was tattooed all over right up to her face. In the past she was the type whom once I saw, will cross to the other side of the road. But here it felt like a level playing field and I was drawn to her and wanted to hear her story. She loved psytrance, travelling and many other things like me or any other person. She was by far one of the most intelligent persons I had met as I assessed while talking to her. I told her in a different place and setting I probably would have run away from her and she laughed saying she would understand why. I loved this, I had built a bridge, one which I intend will stay standing with everyone who looked like her. That’s what being open is like for me, breaking down those protective walls we build just because people look, talk and act differently from us. There were many such encounters and the best one was  with a pirate. I assumed he was Rastafarian because of the music he was listening to and the way he wore his hair. He was from Colombia and when I wrongly assumed he was Rastafarian because I wanted to ask him questions about it, he laughed and said no he wasn’t- he was a pirate! An artistic one at that too. He had his art shop in Brussels where he made and sold his craft, he enjoyed traveling as much as any one of us and loved the Rastafarian way of life but it was too hard for him to abide to the rules of a true Rastafarian but found out he could become a pirate by borrowing what he loved from there and incorporating into his new found life of a pirate where he was fully accepted.  He spoke a lot about things being organic, how life shouldn’t be a specific set of goals and events but more about finding peace and love in whatever you do. He had found his peace. He sure did clarify he wasn’t the type of pirate who stole ships and terrorized the seas. He was the type that waded through life like an open sea going wherever the current pushed him. He lived a life of accepting the circumstances and working with them. This had always worked for him. This was life in the city Kathmandu. Up in the mountains it was another story.

Thamel, Kathmandu

My first encounter with the mountain people was a few months ago when I was trekking in the Ladahk, India. The experience was so rich and fulfilling and contributed to me taking this trip as well. I met my Sherpa a few minutes after taking the daring flight from Kathmandu to Lukla. A delightful guy who accompanied me and helped carry my backpack for most of the trek. He was from Lukla and had his family there with him. We had some tea as he talked me through the route we were going to be taking and what to expect. I think I was very lucky for two reasons- having him as a guide and not have to go in a group. This meant we could be very flexible with the trekking and could do as we pleased to gain more time if we wanted to. We got up right after the tea and started our trek to the next village.

Going up to Gorakshep (5270m) from Lobuche (4940m)

Over the following days right up to reaching the base camp I learnt or confirmed what I already knew about life on the mountains. It was a simple and effective life. They didn’t waste things. Everything served a purpose. The yaks helped carry food and other things to the villages at high altitudes. They provided milk for cheese to the people. Their faeces was in turn used as fuel for cooking and keeping the house warm at night when temperatures went down to a minus. They were never killed up here and when they died of old age, their skin was then used to make blankets and clothes to keep the people warm. The people themselves were very lovely. Namaste is the general greeting word here with your hands together up close to the center of your chest. They greeted you with a warm smile all the time and you could tell it came from the heart. The children were happy seeing climbers and trekkers going past their homes and stuck out their arms for hi fives. It was interesting seeing them sometimes work in their farms or leading the animals back into the small enclosures made for them. I noticed nothing was random about the way they did things here. It was a well thought out process which wasn’t only done because it had to be done, but because it was useful. There was also an element of grace with which everything was done here. Living gracefully and purposefully was a way of life up here. There was meaning to everything. I can’t describe it all but sometimes you get to a place and words can’t describe what you see, you just feel it and you know  what is going on. As we got higher the settlements became more and more scarce or sparsely populated but nothing about the people changed. They lived a happy life up here free from all types of pollution, wastefulness or competition. It was a simple life of meaning. It was quiet, it was peaceful, it was natural.

One of many hanging bridges on the trek.

Nature!

I live in the desert so escaping to somewhere green is sometimes a must to refresh my senses of other sights and sounds of nature. Nepal had everything I needed. I only recently started trekking and mostly around places without a lot of vegetation. In Nepal however it was twofold; below and above the tree line. Below the tree line you would breathe in freshly made oxygen from the trees. You could hear the birds chirping away in the trees. I occasionally sighted really massive birds which I had never seen before which left me in awe. There was, almost constantly, the sound of a river flowing down in the valley, together with the wind blowing through keeping me refreshed throughout the climb or descent. The sounds of the yaks and donkeys coming through with supplies and hearing their bells getting louder and louder as they grew closer. This usually meant you had to be ready to give way when they got very close and also a time for you to take a water break which was always much needed. During this time all you had to do was raise your head high up in any direction and be marvelled by the sights of the mountains. What I noticed was that the tracks were  natural tracks, they hadn’t cut through land or trees to make the path shorter or simpler for us. Everything was naturally forming, or as some will say – organic. I also got to see the rhododendron which is the national flower or Nepal in full bloom in several places. As we climbed higher the trees disappeared slowly and we were soon left only with the sounds of the flowing rivers and the winds blowing though.

Tree hugging while coming down from Tengboche

The trees going away gave birth to the sight of the real mountains. If anything had been obscured earlier, it all came into full view now. I am lucky to have experienced some of the most stunning views on the planet and none really can compare with the others- But what I saw here was way more astonishing than what I had ever imagined.

View of Ama Dablam while descending Kallapathar.

Mountains are just something I am drawn to every now and then they set my soul on fire and I run to them. It’s hard to describe a mountain. You really can’t compare it’s size to anything, you can’t describe it’s beauty but you can stand there and be amazed at how perfect it looks with all it’s imperfections. It’s rough edges, slippery slopes, deadly curves and it’s intimidating size. They were everywhere in sight. Some of them had names because they each had a story to tell, they meant something to the people of the country. Like the Ama Dablam for example. Ama Dablam translates to mother’s necklace, named so because the mountain side descend sharply a few hundred meters then spread out at the sides like a cloak covering and protecting the other mountains besides it, and the people from the freezing winds from the other higher  mountains, mimicking the action of a mother protecting her child between her arms. This mountain was almost always in sight every day and by far the best mountain I have seen till date. I felt really connected to it for some reason and looking up at it every time during the trek filled my heart and soul with warmth and lots of smiles. Up here too was mostly silent, you would occasionally hear the sounds of of glaciers breaking away and tumbling down the sides of the mountains with a thundering sound which will make you wonder if you were safe! But I had an excellent guide who could read the mountains and always led me along the right path. Trekking above the tree line was hard. The higher we went the less oxygen we had and the tougher it became. But all you had to do was listen to yourself and go at your pace, not rushing to get the next village. I was certain each day I woke up I was going to make it to the next stop and that no matter how tough it was I just had to stick to one step at a time. Like I said before, it was hard, one of the toughest things I have had to endure both mentally and physically but something just kept me going every day with a very simple plan- one step at a time! It was much like life, difficult paths, steep and tough climbs but you always had to choice to focus on something better- the mountain views, there were never going to move no matter how much your cursed them or hated them for making life so difficult. But they will offer you the most spectacular views you may have ever seen. I made the reference to everyday life because sometimes we go through life cursing every damn day for arriving, hating what is served to us, wishing it was different whereas we could decide to take what we consider as bad and work with it to improve our lives. The things we call or refer to as obstacles are actually there to teach us, to make us grow. And most of all, we don’t have to go through life carry excess baggage, pack light, take only what you need or necessary. This too is sometimes hard as we really don’t know when we need what and don’t want to be left wanting. But again, I have learnt when you really need something it comes along in various forms. Trekking through nature makes you see things from a different perspective, it’s why the sherpas have survived for generations with so little (according to outsiders). They only take what they need, not what they want. I left a lot of baggage up there, not physical items, but stuff I been carrying in my head and heart and I felt very light and each time I reached the top of a mountain or pass, I opened my arms wide and shouted everything I no longer needed out of my system!

View of Ama Dablam after crossing Cho-La Pass (5360m)

Eternity

Have you ever felt out of place? I am sure we all have in some way. What we then do is try to make ourselves fit in that environment because we need some form of acceptance to continue to thrive here. Nepal however gave off a different kind of energy. I didn’t feel or see the need to be accepted, I just had to be me and let the cosmic do the rest. I came here with a goal and it was one which I knew didn’t depend on me. I needed help in all forms, spiritual, physical and mental. That was the package and I was just one of the blocks to make it complete. I had chosen a route which was going to test me physically and mentally. I woke up every morning with excitement, even when it meant I had to wake up as early as 4am and trek in the dark. Sleeping at night wasn’t easy as well. I could on a good day sleep for 5 hours maximum. The rest of the time I would lay awake with my thoughts or having really vivid dreams. If and when I did manage to sleep, I made sure my head rested on the same spot on my pillow as anywhere else on the pillow was frozen. If I moved one centimetre in either side,  I would  hit a frozen side which would keep me awake. But it was fun, pain was part of the process.

At the top of Gokyo-Ri (5330m) watching the sun rise over Mt Everest.

I remember the morning I woke up at 3:30am to climb Gokyo Ri which stands at 5350m just to watch the sun rise over Mt Everest. It took me 4 hours to make a vertical ascent of 600m to the top. It was painful and tough and I asked myself several times why I was doing this. The crazy thing though is that when you finally get to the top all of that pain fades away as you watch the sun just coming over the highest point on earth. Going down took another 3 hours and on the same day trekked to another village 2 hours away over a glacier to then wake up the next morning and climb up another peak Cho La Pass at 5450 to go across yet another glacier .  No matter how painful it was during the trek or climb up these peaks the day always ended well. The feeling of reaching the top, which is one of the  goals for the day, is not something I can describe or put into words. I will get there and just shout and pray and laugh and feel light. The pain always vanished when you got to the top, it made it worthwhile. The views too were spectacular and the images and experience is one I will carry with me forever.

At the top of Cho-La pass (5360m) with my guide Sudip.

I reached Gorak Shep with a massive headache from exhaustion. Climbing Gokyo Ri and Cho La pass merely a day before and then heading to Gorak Shep for the finale had taken a toll on my body and whatever energy reserves I had. But i was determined to reach the Everest Base camp that same day. I know I was pushing myself, but I was doing so within what I considered a healthy limit. I had told my guide if he noticed any signs of things going south with me he should turn me around immediately. Altitude sickness is tricky, but you have to observe and know what to look for as signs. I was confident I wasn’t sick so I had the green light to go.

Reached Everest Base Camp (5364m) with my flag!

From Gorak Shep to Everest Base camp was a 2 or 3 hour walk depending on your speed. I was taking it easy and the camp grew closer and closer with each step. That’s all I had to do, one step at a time and I was going to get there. It was a fairly levelled walk and trail. I had this plan on my mind to reach the base camp and do a dance around the mark where it says Everest Base Camp. I could see it from a distance and was already filled with emotions. It was just a few dozen meters ahead. As a drew closer the emotions heightened. I took out my phone and gave it to my guide to record me as I was going to dance there. 10 meters away and I felt like I was not on this earth anymore, I reached the spot. But instead of breaking down into a weird dance, my knees gave up and collapsed from under me, they fell to the ground. My upper body leaned itself forward, my head was bowing! I was right there on top of the pile of stones, weak and happy. I had reached the placed I had only dreamed of reaching and without warning I was bowing down to it in prayer. Everything was automatic from then onward, I was filled with emotions of love and peace. I said a prayer for the world, I screamed at the top of my lungs, I had been victorious, my headache had vanished completely as the hormones had taken over my being. I lay there just marvelling at what I had done, I was there for about half an hour, but it felt like eternity. I was floating on the clouds, nothing else mattered, I was dreaming yet awake. I was brought back to my senses by the sounds of falling ice from the Khumbu Icefall- an avalanche! I turned and looked around and notices it was close to the camp and wished there was no one crossing at that time. The base camp was still being set up, preparations for the climbing season were ongoing and tents were being propped up everywhere. Temperatures were now dropping rapidly, we had to go back. The next day I was going to go up Kallapatthar.

At the top of Kallapathar(5545m) with Mt Everest in the background.

Mt Everest! I see you!

This is me after hiking up Kala Patthar, the closest you can get to Mt. Everest without going across the base camps! At an altitude of about 5545m you get less than 50% of breathable oxygen, your body is tormented as it finds the energy from all other storage sources you may have and nearly shuts down your body. This is where mental toughness takes over. Each step you take draws out what you think is the last bit of energy you may have and you push a little further and further and further till you reach the top. I’m not forgetting that up to this point you must have also gradually let your body become used to the low oxygen levels at this altitude but bit this was hard. But once you reach the top and see this wonder, everything fades away, the pain, the suffering, the doubts all go away and a chemical reaction takes place in your brain, endorphins and serotonin are released and all you have left is the feeling of flying without wings yet you are still on earth and for those few moments, nothing else matters. You have become king of your world and the feeling is everlasting…but the mountain reminds you of it’s presence and greatness and snaps you out of your trance and you start feeling you feet on the ground, the blood pumping in your veins right up to your head and the terrible wind chill of minus 14 degrees as it was on this day. You are left with one thing to do, bow to the mountain and descend, for it is not your place, it is home to the gods and you are but human.

Jordan! The happy surprise. (part 1)

This seriously was a big risk! We had conveniently picked a long weekend so that we could minimize using more leave days than we had to. We had booked our tickets way in advance and my visa took a total of three months to be ready, it the longest I’ve ever had to wait for a visa. But it was understandable, they were are war, their president had strapped himself in a fighter jet was leading airstrikes against the crazy terrorist group of Iraq and Syria. Their country was in a heightened state of alert and risky according to the popular international news circles. The media were scaring the crap out of those who were not in the country. I thought there was a chance of us being kidnapped. Vika’s parents were obviously freaking out, our friend Natasha who came with us had her mom on the phone all the time to make sure she was ok. Well for me, I was going to tell my parents I was there only when I had gotten there. I had emailed them a copy of my life insurance the night before anyways 🙂 We had everything booked and it was too late to turn back now. One thing we were sure of was that we were going to be in awe of everything we were going to see.

Landed safely, I had the usual hiccups with immigration, I’m usually the first Cameroonian some immigration officers have seen or heard of. This usually requires additional checks for me, two or more officers need to confirm my passport and visa are valid and whatever other checks they had to do. Something which deeply troubles Vika but something I have made my peace with and educate every eager person about me and where I come from. Passport stamped, got through and our driver was there waiting for us with a sign across the rail. So I’m rushing towards him and then I see another sign which read “Mahalos” and hear a familiar voice calling from that direction. I can’t believe it, I know that sign and that voice, I look again and it’s my best friend waiting for us. I immediately became ecstatic and jumped over the rails and we start hugging and almost throw ourselves on the floor. I hadn’t seen him in about 7 months and had no clue he was coming. I had asked if he could but he was all the way in china and couldn’t make it yet there he was. Vika had secretly arranged with him to join us on the trip and surprise the rest of us at the airport. This is a guy I had met in India over 4 years ago and we shared some of the best experiences in my life together. One of the most chilled people I know and one who wouldn’t stop at anything to get what he wants. Just a year earlier I was transiting through Istanbul and had a 12 hour layover. He’s Turkish and set out to meet me at the airport as I was not allowed to leave. He managed to get to the airport without his passport and talked his was through all the checkpoints to meet me in the transit area under supervision! It was mind blowing how he achieved that but such is his determination. We have since grown into best buddies and still going crazy 6 years on. I’m still in my ecstatic state as we drive through the city to our hotel and just noticed it was a bit freezing. It was chilly but ok. We dropped our bags, prepped ourselves for adventure while the driver returned to the airport to pick up two more of our friends who were arriving.  It was a happy reunion. We forgot the risk we had taken to get here and just chatted away. All six of us coming from different countries had met in India a few years back and developed this strong bond which is still going on till today. When we meet its talking, cracking jokes and dancing away into the night. We are like dolls with switches, we get into play mode, dancing mode, deep talking mode, rest mode, all the friend modes you can think of.

10505254_10155363757145052_9128207902440318697_o.jpgWe set out to explore the city, our driver was excellent. We told him we wanted our trip to be remembered as the least touristy one in terms of food and wanted to eat local food at the best places in the city of Amman. He took us to one of the oldest known restaurants in the city called Hashim. The humus and falafel here are legendary. The restaurant wasn’t hidden but you could tell it was really old, broken tables and chairs, reconstructed walls et all.  Our driver Marwan helped us place the order as non of us spoke Arabic. We pleaded with him not to order too much as we wanted to have lunch at another place. He placed the order and within minutes the food started arriving in trays hot from the oven. We started eating and about three minutes later, more food arrived. We just kept on eating, and more kept on coming, humus, bread, falafel, tea, repeat! That’s all they had and that’s all we ate satisfactorily. We weren’t sure how we were going to have lunch at lunch time because we had greedily packed our stomach with all the food we could eat at Hashim. We visited the main touristic sites in the city, starting with the remains of the Roman theatre at the centre which left us in awe. It was massive and I still ponder how the people who addressed the crowds here did with no microphones or public announcement systems. I believe it was a job you had to be born to do and that is why most of the people who did were really great orators and had such a huge influence with the people of their time. We walked around it for a bit, turned down offers from people trying to get us to pay them to tell us more about the place. Soon after, we got into play mode, we decided to go to the very top of the theatre. This, however was not an easy feat, the steps were very steep but it was fun going up and when we finally did, cameras and phones came out, we took a bunch of funny pictures for a bit and then turned around to see the view from the top and it was truly amazing. Everyone sat in their own space, recovering and at the same time observing the theatre from above, picturing how it would have looked like if we were watching one of the romans addressing the Jordanian people. It still baffles me though how they accomplished it. After a while we begun our descent which was another funny task, the guys macho spirits came alive and it was a fairly easy task but then we had to slow down to help the ladies get down too.

 

10848692_10155363758555052_2243801985850729119_o.jpgOur next stop was the Citadel. I enjoyed the short drive up there and engaged in conversation with Marwan. I asked him how the city had changed since the start of the nearby war. He told us they are a peaceful country and have accepted millions of refugees, it has changed the dynamics of the city but they were happy to help. He spoke of how everyone was free to practice their religion and how great Jordanian people were. I asked him about his family and he told us he had two beautiful daughters who meant the world to him. you can tell how much people love someone or something when they talk about them. His face lit up as he spoke about his girls, you could literally see him looking at them by the way he spoke. You could see and hear the memories running through his words and the  brimming smile on his face. He looked like a very loving and engaging father who would do anything for his daughters. They brought him life and joy. He told me that was his life’s purpose and I believed him. Who wouldn’t be proud to have two amazing girls?

11064910_10155363760160052_774898975173541877_o.jpg

We reached the citadel and it was going to be hike around as well. We got our tickets and walked in. It was also in ruins but had guide posts from which we could read about the place or area we were in. A gentleman walked up to us, introduced himself and told us he could guide us along and tell us more about the citadel. We were going to say no at first till he told us this was the job he was doing was for a good cause. We signed up with him and he gave a brilliant tour of the citadel. The number of times it had been destroyed and rebuilt, the legend of Hercules and remains from broken statues to back up the claim he actually existed which was quite intriguing. The tour lasted about two hours of which we saw so many broken stones, bones, mummies, burial pods and chambers. We finished at a place which was one of the highest points of the city and had a beautiful view of part of Amman. It was built on small hills and the houses looked like they were stacked on each other in a nice way. We were hungry again and put Marwan up to the task of finding another local place for us to feast at which he gladly did. Natasha, the foodie of our group had being talking non-stop about the mansaf. She had done so much research on it and just couldn’t stop asking when we were going to have it. It is the national dish of Jordan which comprises of lamb cooked in a sauce of fermented dried yogurt served with rice and bread. Marwan found a place for us and we all ordered mansaf. What we didn’t know was that the portions were massive!! When the first two plates arrived we knew we were in trouble. Vika doesn’t tolerate me not finishing my food, if you ordered it, you ate it and you finish it. That was her rule about food. I’ve gotten into trouble so many times for not cleaning out my plate. We had to cancel two of the six plates we had ordered. The mansaf truly did live up to the taste Natasha had been telling us about. It wasn’t similar to anything I had had before and came with its mouth senses explosions which I did like. So there we were again and had managed to get induce ourselves into yet another food coma on the first day of the trip. We waited it out and then headed back to our hotel to rest a little and prepare for a night out in the city.

Marwan came by and we drove to the city centre and just walked around for a while, checking out stuff and chatting amongst ourselves and cracking jokes and poking one another. I spotted a small target practice shop and decided we try to shoot some rounds. So there was this one time in Singapore where Vika and I were watching a movie and they kept on referring to an AK and she asked me what it was. I paused the movie and went into teacher mode to give her what was my understanding of the AK-47. I graciously told her how it was the best thing that had probably come out of her country Russia according to some and went to explain more. It was the kind of explanation you finish and expect a clap or some kind of approval of your brilliance. She just looked at me and I was baffled as asked why she was not impressed, to which she replied “I know how to dismantle, assemble, load and fire rounds with an AK-47!” Which froze me for a couple of seconds as I hadn’t seen that coming. So here were were, and I wanted to see what she was all about with guns. I thought it was something I would easily get, but I fired the first couple of rounds at the targets and missed them all! Then she comes around and schools me on my posture, how to aim and how to fire, the method of release, how to breathe, all of that. She knew what she was doing! I followed her instructions and hit some targets while she observed calmly from behind. I finished and she gave me the thumps up with a cheeky smile as if to say “now you know”. We finally got around to finding a place to have dinner, we were still full from the afternoon so we decided to eat really light. we walked into a restaurant-bar and put two tabled together. It was only after we had sat down that we noticed there were only men in here. Not a single lady in sight, which immediately made the girls feel uncomfortable. Marwan explained to us that Jordanian women hardly ever go out at night except on very rare occasions. We pressed him to know if it was some sort of pressure from the men not to allow women to go out or it was just something they had in their culture. He tried to explained and I immediately realised I was judging their culture from my own cultural standpoint which was very wrong of me. We killed the conversation, had our food hastily and left to rest to be up early for a drive down to the river Jordan, wadi Mujib and the dead sea.

10458795_751566374963449_9062319517307684146_n.jpgRise and shine, it’s time to drive to river Jordan. Marwan arrived on time, we loaded ourselves up in the car, stopped by a small coffee shop and grabbed quick breakfast and jumped back into the car. Marwan warned us not to be sticking our heads and arms out of the car in order to take pictures in certain places. We noticed there were lots of army personnel as we drove out of the city and a few checkpoints. The drive itself was a very calm one until one of us decided to take a picture of something and we got stopped at the next checkpoint. We had been spotted! Marwan explained we were tourist and may have mistakenly taken the photograph, we had to surrender the camera for the officer to inspect and he handed it back to us. My crazy friend Cet decided it would be a good time to have the police officer take a picture of his own with us. He’s always doing crazy stuff like that and…the officer did agree so he got his other colleague to take photos of us all with him. We ended up talking for about 10 minutes with the officer and answered questions about where we were from and asked him about his. Out of nowhere we had dissolved what was a tense situation into one of exchange of names, laughs and pictures. He bid us farewell and wished us well on our adventures.

1939768_10155363772825052_494652024977441919_o.jpgFirst stop of the day was the river Jordan and the religious sights which came with it. As we drove on we saw something small crossing the road and observed it carefully to notice it was a turtle. Marwan’s face lit up, he told us the night before one of his daughters was asking if she could have one and here it was trying to cross the road. He picked it up and kept it safely in the back of the car in a box with some grass for it to eat while we drove on. We got to the river jordan checkpoint, got our tickets and went it. The river runs between the borders of Jordan, Israel and Palestine and is the lowest lying river in the world at -400m below sea level.

11081363_751568921629861_781502761935993575_n.jpg

Marwan showed us what is believed to have been the exact place where the prophet Elijah ascended into heaven in a chariot of fire. My mom would have loved this! what for me is just a trip or holiday would have been a pilgrimage for her. I was about see a lot of the things and places referenced in the Bible and pillars for Christianity. We came by the river, we had been warned not to try to cross it as there were snipers in the bushes on the other side of the river bank. That sunk in deep and we stayed way clear of the border.

1781814_10155363771845052_8633388712184727280_o.jpg

We saw the place believed to be the baptism place of Jesus. There were many other people here all travelling as pilgrims to the holy land. The place was filled with so much detail about Christianity and Judaism. There was however a place where we could dip into the river if we wanted to. On the other side of it was Isreal and had it’s own pilgrims who had made the trip from that side of the border. A guy was preaching and others were singing, it felt like an outdoor church. We soaked our feet in the water for a while and observed more of the area. We shifted from pilgrim mode into sniper spotting mode soon after. We were intent on finding at least one sniper. our search was futile was we headed back to the car. It had nonetheless been a great visit, I took a lot of video logs for my mom. She was going to love them.

10295408_10155363771985052_2525348325543587708_o.jpg

We the headed to the dead sea and we were all very excited. We had heard of the amazing once in a lifetime experience of floating in the dead sea and were eager to try it. The water is so salty nothing can live in it and which contributed to making anything dropped into it to float right back to the top. We got there, changed and ran into the sea right up to about knee-length deep then dropped! As soon as you dropped you floated right back to the surface and that too effortlessly. It was mind-blowing! So we began floating, we had magazines packed just for this, we were going to be floating unaided on water and reading magazines and news papers.

10321094_10155363789100052_4610615554486669096_o.jpg

It was so much fun and we played for about an hour in the sea , we were like kids on a playground. We had dead sea mud on ourselves as we had been told it was good for the skin because of the presence of an overland of minerals in the mud. We believed it. One thing to note though- DO NOT SHAVE before getting there, give yourself at least two days prior to arriving at the dead sea without a shave. The stinging pain as the water got in your skin cracks is one you will never forget! Some of us learnt this the hard way. Be warned. We forgot about the pain anyways and focused on floating after a while. This was a serious high on the trip and one which I don’t think I can ever forget. We showered down, had some shisha and left for wadi mujib.

11054850_10155363775835052_457838383334858451_o.jpg

Unfortunately the entrance to the canyon had been closed off for renovation and preservation work. We were sad as we had seen really amazing pictures of the canyon and really wanted to hike through it. We later on realised we wouldn’t have had enough time and made our peace with it. We drove back to  Amman, the following day was going to be the last sight seeing trip to Petra then a drive to wadi rum in the desert where nothing went as planned but everything left in complete awe as we experienced bedouin life! (watch out for part 2!)