Expat living in Holland? Tulip Expats Services is your one-stop shop! Tulip can help with visa and permit application services; financial planning; relocation services; housing; mortgages and Dutch tax filing services.
Help preserve miles of mountainous coastline, beautiful sandy beaches and ancient redwood forests with the Nature Conservancy's Adopt an Acre project.
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Mixed messages, Bungamati, Nepal. No matter where one travels in the world, mixed messages abound.
Himalayan Valley, Nepal.
Bhaktapur, Nepal. A temple money changer?
Kathmandu, Nepal.
Faded flyers, Bungamati, Nepal.
Madaba, Jordan.
Aqaba, Jordan.
Amman, Jordan.
Amman.
Barcelona, Spain.
New Orleans, Louisiana.
Sidewalk declaration, French Quarter, New Orleans.
Farmer's Market, New Orleans.
Gulfport, Mississippi.
Sunset over the hills of, Petra, Jordan.
Today marks a joyous beginning for the people of Libya and an ignominious farewell to Muammar Qaddafi. At last the sun has set on the Libyan dictator's long reign of terror.
May the Libyan people enjoy the fruits of their hard-fought freedom, as they work to rebuild their country.
Mother and daughter, Bungamati, Nepal.
I am pleased to join hundreds of bloggers participating in The 2011 Girl Effect Blogging Campaign. Read more about the campaign and how you can help young girls reach their potential.
Won't you consider writing your own Girl Effect blog post this week? For details, go here. See posts from other Girl Effect Blogging Campaign participants here.
Bedouin girl, Petra, Jordan. Images and poem by Tara Bradford.
Give me a chance
I need a chance
to study at school
to seize opportunities
to learn just like you
I need a chance
to grow, think and reach
to wander and wonder
defy tradition's long reach
I need a chance
to make my own decisions
to carve a career
not marriage as prison
I need a chance
to discover my worth
to nurture my talent
before I give birth
I need a chance
to choose my own path
to plan my own journey
without family wrath
I need a chance
to remain strong, in good health
to be who I am
not some man's chattel as wealth
Give me a chance
you'll see what I can do
surpass expectations
be independent like you
This Bedouin man has to be one of the most-photographed people in the world. When climbing steps at Petra, Jordan, thousands of tourists are confronted by the seller and his selection of wares. I thought of Petra this afternoon, when climbing steep narrow steps in a 16th-century Dutch house. They were not unlike the stone steps at Petra.
Yara Dabis, a Jordanian photographer, sits on the steps near the seller. Click photos to enlarge.
Julian Luke of Toronto, Canada exploring a temple at the top of the steps.
At Petra, history is embedded even in the simplest stones.
And the coloured stone at Petra never fails to impress. (These photos have not been altered; these are the actual colours of this magnificent ancient Nabatean city).
The well-known Jordanian photographer Zohrab and Renee Binkowski of Berkeley, Calif. admiring the swirled colours in cave dwellings during a trip in March 2010.
A group of Bedouin men pause for a tea break.
Gillian da Silva of Toronto with a local "camel wrangler."
The group from the March 2010 Journey to Jordan, posing in front of the Treasury building. From left: Rebecca Self, Renee Binkowski, Donna Hammer, Yara Dabis, Zohrab, Karyn Entzion, Christine Mason Miller, Gillian da Silva and Julian Luke.
Want to experience the magic of Petra for yourself? Join me March 1-9, 2012 for a Journey to Jordan. Read more about the trip here.
Families enjoy a day at the beach at the Red Sea resort Aqaba, Jordan. On the opposite shore is the Israeli port city of Eilat.
Click photos to view detail.
Sailboats dot the horizon.
Familes play paddleball at a beach on the North Sea, the Netherlands.
A trampoline keeps children entertained.
Flying a kite at the North Sea.
Plastic mannequins with formal hairstyles modeling knit tracksuits at a shop in Madaba, Jordan. Click photos to enlarge.
A row of mannequins model traditional clothing in downtown Amman.
In Bhaktapur, Nepal, the mannequins basically are large plastic hangers.
Curiously, all the mannequins I saw in Nepal resembled Eastern European blondes.
The mannequins in Jordan also had Western features, which suggests no one is manufacturing mannequins specifically for Middle Eastern or Asian markets.
Fall fashion
A world away, check out New York magazine's Fall Fashion issue. Interesting that the "Fall Leanings" section doesn't seem to show anything new. It's true that fashion trends return again and again, usually updated to reflect the times.
What's on your shopping list for fall? For me, it's new boots to withstand cold and wet winters in the Netherlands. But I'll be be wearing warm-weather clothes while spending part of the autumn in Sevilla and other parts of Spain.
Camels rest at Petra, Jordan. In the background are Rebecca Self (left) and Christine Mason Miller.
The famed Treasury facade in the ancient Nabatean city of Petra, selected one of the New Seven Wonders of the World.
Yes, the stone at Petra really is a beautiful rosy peach colour, enhanced with swirls of blue, rust and other distinctive shades.
An arched entryway at Jerash, where Roman chariot tracks are still visible, along with the ruins of an entire city. Archeological excavations constantly uncover more and more historical treasures.
Part of the Citadel in the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan's capital city Amman.
The Temple of Hercules at the Citadel.
A young Jordanian woman in the city of Salt.
Would you like to explore these wonders for yourself? Grab your passport and camera and meet me in Amman on March 1st, 2012! Read all about it and see more photos at Journey to Jordan.
Hadrian's Arch with scaffolding during restoration at the ancient Greco-Roman city of Jerash, Jordan.
Wall with arched windows around a portion of Jerash. When I first visited Jerash in 1980, only a small portion of this remarkable city had been excavated. Steps leading to secret underground chambers and entire buildings were yet to be discovered.
The forum surrounded by an expanse of streets lined with stone pillars. Chariot tracks are still visible on the stone pavement.
See a panorama of Jerash here.
Stage with wonderful acoustics at the Roman Amphitheatre, the main site of an annual music and arts festival in late July and early August.
Pillar detail at the amphitheatre.
Jordanian musicians perform for tourists.
A site under excavation, behind the amphitheatre.
A recently-uncovered tiled floor, awaiting restoration.
A row of chiseled pillar bases.
An arched niche carved into the stone.
Another entrance and exit to the main archeological site at Jerash.
If you'd like to see more of the awe-inspiring beauty and rich history of Jerash, come with me on a Journey to Jordan beginning March 14th, 2011. Read more about the trip's destinations here and here.
Steps in the 12th-century castle, Ajloun, Jordan. The nephew of Saladin al Ayyubi built the fortress in 1184-85 to protect the country against attacks. The castle protected communication routes between Jordan and Syria and controlled three main passages within Jordan. Aljoun Castle also protected the development and control of iron mines in Ajloun.
Curved roof.
Excavation work, viewed through an opening within the castle.
More work viewed from the castle's open-air terrace.
A slot for shooting arrows to deter unwelcome visitors.
More excavation work, viewed from the roof.
The valley beyond the castle, as seen from the rooftop terrace.
Want to see these sweeping views for yourself? Come with me to the beautiful kingdom of Jordan on March 14th, 2011. We'll visit the mountain-top castle of Ajloun and watch spirited chariot races and climb the ruins of the ancient Roman city of Jerash.
We'll go to the Dead Sea, where you can float in the water and later apply the famous Dead Sea mud, known for its beautifying and healing properties. At the River Jordan, we'll visit the sacred site where Jesus Christ is believed to have been baptised.
We'll drive to the rose-red Nabatean city of Petra, one of the New Seven Wonders of the World. Weather permitting, we'll spend the night in a Bedouin encampment at Beidna and ride a horse, camel and/or jeep through the shifting sands of Wadi Rum.
We'll watch Bedouin women weave rugs by hand on Bani Hamida Mountain. In Azraq, we'll visit the castle where soldier and adventurer T. E. Lawrence - better known as Lawrence of Arabia - was based during World War I.
We'll wander through the Roman Amphitheatre in Amman and the Citadel fortress, where original Dead Sea scroll fragments are housed in a museum filled with historic pottery and other artifacts. We'll walk through the local souks and spice markets in downtown Amman, before a quick tour of the gold market.
We'll visit mosaic-filled churches in Madaba and watch mosaics being restored and/or created at a local school.
Throughout our time in Jordan, we'll sample delicious local cuisine and visit favourite spots frequented by Amman residents. We'll shop for local crafts straight from the designers and creators. And you'll meet some of the fascinating people I've had the great good fortune to know during my years as a journalist, while living and traveling in Jordan.
If the political situation allows, we'll go to Damascus, Syria for a tour of the fabulous local bazaars and UNESCO World Heritage sites.
Read more about the trip here and email me with any questions. But hurry - only a few spaces left!
Love letters written in 1901 to a Frenchwoman named Gabrielle in Paris. The bundle of letters was found at a Paris flea market.
Have you seen author and blogger Patti Digh's insightful new book Four Word Self Help: Simple Wisdom for Complex Lives? Patti talks about the need for simplying our busy lives; how the most important concepts usually may be summed up in four words or less.
This blog post title echoes Patti's philosophy, translating from French to "you simply your life." Here's my take on three of Patti's four-word ideas for living:
Write more love letters. Can we ever have enough love letters? I think not. These thoughtful missives, penned from the heart, reveal more about us - and those who love us - than any store-bought gift chosen with care.
Years ago, I was on assignment in the Middle East and left many valuable items with a friend in San Francisco. Sadly she vanished, taking my treasures with her. I really haven't missed them, except for a couple of sentimental family items and a stack of love letters, bound with ribbon. Those foreign-postmarked letters written in green ink on heavy vellum reflected an important part of my personal history and can never be replaced. So Patti is right: we should all write more love letters. Email just doesn't have the same panache.
My daughter Jordana pictured last December standing in the Dead Sea, Jordan, for the first time since she was eight years old.
Tell them your story. Time passes so quickly. As a journalist, I am acutely aware of the necessity of writing things down; recording events as accurately and objectively as possible. As a photographer, I am convinced each of us has a responsibility to tell our own story; to capture key moments in our lives and the lives of those close to us, not only for ourselves, but for generations to come. One's sense of identity and place in this world is important; each of us has a role in helping preserve our wholly unique family histories and special events. Expensive possessions may come and go, but our personal stories and photographs are timeless and therefore priceless.
A trio of bicycles parked by a canal, Delft, Holland.
Buy experiences, not things. Nothing provides more education and perspective than travel. Throughout my life, I've tended to favour adventure over stability; experience over material possessions. I may not own a big house or access a fat bank account, but I do have a wealth of experience. I am rich through the risks I've taken; the places I've traveled; the people I've met and befriended; those I love and who love me. It doesn't take money to try something new; to do something different; to make new friends. Our choices and our experiences define us and inform our memories...It''s how we spend our time, talents and resources that matters; not how we spend our money.
For more simple wisdom, read Patti's delightful book packed with warm and witty anecdotes. Four Word Self Help is also beautifully-illustrated by numerous artists and bloggers. Get your copy here or at your local bookstore. You may already be familiar with Patti's best-selling book Life is a Verb. And don't forget to visit her blog 37 Days for inspiring stories about making the most of each day.
Notice how the pink house stands out in this picture? It's not a great photo technically; I needed a telephoto lens to properly capture this scene. The reason I snapped this image was the pink house. In a tiny little village on Bani Hamida Mountain in Jordan, someone dared to defy the status quo and paint their house carnation pink.
This weekend, do something different. Shake up your routine. Go somewhere you've never been. Try a new recipe or an unfamiliar restaurant. Smile at a stranger. Surprise someone with a special treat. Be adventurous. Just remember, whatever you do is up to you!
You be you, as my wise friend Jen Lemen says. And have fun!
Journey to Jordan participants at the Citadel, Amman, March, 2010.
If you're intrigued by historic places, travel and photography, here's your chance! I'm hosting another Journey to Jordan November 8-17. We'll visit the beautiful Nabatean city of Petra and other timeless sites in the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. We''ll follow the footsteps of the legendary British soldier and adventurer T.E. Lawrence to a desert castle in Azraq. And we'll take a trip to the world's oldest city - and a UNESCO World Heritage Site - Damascus, Syria!
The latter trip is optional. You may prefer to relax at a desert oasis, then go with a local guide to a sanctuary for endangered animals such as the oryx, while others go to Syria.
Would you like to come along? Read all about the trip here.
The muddy River Jordan, December, 2009.
Environmentalists say that the River Jordan - where Jesus Christ is believed to have been baptised - has become a polluted stream that could die next year, unless the decay is halted, Agence-France Presse reports.
The famed river "has been reduced to a trickle south of the Sea of Galilee, devastated by overexploitation, pollution and lack of regional management," Friends of the Earth, Middle East said in a report presented in Amman today. More than 98 per cent of the river's flow has been diverted by Israel, Syria and Jordan over the years. "The remaining flow consists primarily of sewage, fish pond water, agricultural run-off and saline water," environmentalists from Israel, Jordan and the West Bank stressed in the report. "Without concrete action, the LJR (lower Jordan River) is expected to run dry at the end of 2011."
The river and its tributaries are shared by Israel, Jordan, Syria and the West Bank. In 1847, a U.S. naval officer led an expedition along the river. He described cascading rapids and waterfalls. Today, the Jordan is little more than a polluted stream.
The cracked, dry riverbed, where water once flowed in abundance.
Friends of the Earth say the solution lies in releasing huge amounts of fresh water into the river. "A new study we commissioned reveals that we have lost at least 50 per cent of biodiversity in and around the river, due to the near total diversion of fresh water and that some 400 million cubic metres of water annually are urgently needed to be returned to the river to bring it back to life," said Munqeth Mehyar, Friends of the Earth's Jordanian director.
See more photos of the River Jordan here. In November I'm returning to Jordan to visit the river and the baptismal site, as well as other historic places. If you'd like to come along to Jordan - and possibly Damascus, Syria - check out the site Journey to Jordan.
In my continuing bid to lighten the load, every day I take a book, a piece of art, a photograph or a household item out the door and leave it where someone will find it. Whatever the item, it's always gone when I walk past the spot on my way home.
But downsizing my household doesn't mean I no longer add to my collections. Au contraire! As you can see by the photos, I collect antique Bedouin, Palestinian and Jordanian jewelry. These necklaces are favourites purchased during recent trips to Jordan. The half-moon necklace (above) features double-sided Arabic inscriptions from the Koran, as well as teal-blue glass beads and antique coins. The pendant's heavy silver chain is handmade.
The necklace is photographed with a "1001 Nights" raw silk wall-hanging. It took six women from the Jordan River Foundation's textiles division six months to hand-stitch each section, then put it all together.
The Italian blue glass beads in the necklace at right are nearly 300 years old. This rare piece started out as traditional Arabic prayer or worry beads. When a baby was born into a family, more beads and silver pieces for good luck were added and the piece was transformed into a necklace. The photograph below shows a close-up of a Palestinian coin from 1942. Note the inscriptions in both Hebrew and Arabic, in less volatile times.
The necklace is photographed on top of a vintage Moroccan wedding blanket, courtesy of my lovely friend Maryam of My Marrakech. You can see her picture in the portraits section of my new photography website.
London
David and I are just back from a whirlwind trip to London. Thursday we raced around all day for business and errands. I had a fascinating conversation about the Sudan and the Middle East with an Ethiopian cab driver. I also saw a very tall model in a thin summer frock shivering in the cold at a photo shoot in Hyde Park.
After an early dinner in an Italian restaurant, David and I watched the recap of the British election debate, round two. On Friday, we visited family and a certain adorable ten-week-old baby.
Lunch was an excellent red pepper hummous flatbread with feta cheese at The Minnow in Weybridge, before racing off to catch yet another train (by the time we arrived in Paris, we'd ridden nine trains in one day).
Eurostar was packed, due to the backlog of passengers stranded when Icelandic ash halted European air traffic for six days. Even the jump seats between carriages were filled. At a specialist camera shop in London, the dealer told me he'd been booked to fly to Iceland to photograph the volcanic eruptions and celebrate a friend's upcoming nuptials. Instead, they went to Ireland. He said, "Change one letter in the name of the country and by the time we left, we didn't know the difference." In other words, they had quite the merry fete!
Paris
Back in Paris and nursing a sore throat, I watched War Photographer, the award-winning documentary about James Nachtwey. I was dismayed to read that Nachtwey's advertising for an UNPAID intern for three-months. No matter the experience an intern would gain from working with Nachtwey, the intern would have to pay his own room and board in New York - an expensive proposition by any stretch of the imagination.
In principle, I don't believe in unpaid internships. At the very least, interns should be paid a minimum wage, no matter how much valuable experience he or she might gain from working with a master photographer!
I also watched Annie Leibovitz's Life through a Lens, produced by her sister. Such a contrast between the ways Nachtwey and Leibovitz work. On the train to London, I read Susan Sontag's essays On Photography, which seem just as relevant today as when she wrote them in 1977.
My artist friend Lee is in Paris and if I can kick this cold to the curb, we're planning some photo jaunts at obscure spots around town. I also have a photographic essay to finish and a jaunt to Amsterdam to plan, as well as some routine doctor's appointments. Am hoping to catch up with your blogs, too!
What's keeping you busy and energised these days?
A Palestinian coin from 1942 is among silver talismans added to antique glass prayer beads.
Blind Bedouin woman in her tent near Kerak, Jordan.
"Simplicity is making the journey of this life with just baggage enough." - Charles Dudley Warner.
Photos are outtakes from a photographic essay on Bedouin women.
Bedouin sheik with a tattooed arm near Kerak, Jordan.
Every picture tells a story. The sheik (pictured) is the head of a Bedouin tribe living in an abandoned village near Kerak, Jordan. The tribe moved from an encampment in the desert, after the heaviest rains in 50 years flooded much of the land. The sheik is starting a foundation to raise money for educating Bedouin children who, along with their families, tend to move home with the seasons.
One of the joys of photography is meeting fascinating people and hearing their stories. More and more these days, my photography is taking me to places I hadn't imagined. It's an exciting time, with unexpected doors opening and intriguing opportunities unfolding.
I am happy to announce that today my new photography website is live! Won't you stop by for a visit? You may recognize pictures of a couple of beautiful bloggers.
I've been working since February with Gerlof van Ek of VANEK Creative. Gerlof is a talented website designer and developer, based in Amsterdam. Check back often, as the website's collection of photographs will continually evolve.
P.S. Am off to London, sans ordinateur. Back with more posts this weekend.
Seamstress at the textiles division workshop of the Jordan River Foundation, Amman.
Caves and dwellings in the ancient Nabatean city of Petra, Jordan.
It's been a week since I've found the opportunity to post. I've been busy putting out administrative fires and sorting priorities. I've spent some time cocooning at home in my "cave," sorting through closets and possessions and shedding excess. It seems I have a number of expensive handbags, mainly because in Paris, the clothes are too small to consider. So over the last ten years, I've purchased a disproportionate amount of well-made handbags, shoes and scarves.
Besides culling possessions in preparation for the move to Amsterdam, I've been re-examining my work commitments and obligations. Consequently I decided to turn down an amazing project, working with talented individuals on two continents. Despite its long-term promise and opportunities to travel, something about the project didn't feel right for me. Finally, I concluded I simply couldn't devote the time and energy required to meet others' expectations and guarantee success. Almost immediately, it felt as though a huge weight had lifted from my shoulders.
I spent an afternoon with a charming woman who sells antiques and vintage collectibles from her lovely Parisien abode. (Watch for an upcoming post). My blogging friend Lisa and I had lunch on Ile Saint-Louis. Over (sadly under-cooked) chicken Caesar salads, we commiserated about the myriad challenges of life in Paris, especially the lackadaisical parcel delivery service from carriers UPS, DHL and Chronopost.
This week I've edited hundreds of photos taken during my recent trip to Jordan and worked on a photo essay for an American magazine. I've also been working with a Dutch web designer on my photography website. I can hardly wait until it's finished! What a pleasure working with a professional, after my previous bad experience with a web designer.
I read Alexandra Penney's The Bag Lady Papers and finished Elizabeth Gilbert's Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage.
I found Penney's book annoying; while she lost her savings after investing with jailed financier Bernard Madoff, she keeps referring to herself as having lost everything. But she still has her New York apartment and another property (she sold a third), so is hardly poverty-stricken. I find it difficult to summon much sympathy for her. Many other people reacted similarly, judging by the heated responses to Penney's columns in Tina Brown's The Daily Beast.
But Penney is right about women's concerns about ending up old, alone and poor. Many, many accomplished and successful women I know share Penney's "bag lady" fears (designer handbags or not).
Elizabeth Gilbert's book is a lively account of how she and her Brazilian partner were "forced" by Homeland Security to marry. Committed chronicles their emotional - and cross-continental - journey while manuevering a maze of bureaucratic red tape, reconciling their beliefs and finally, tying the knot.
Sunday is the Marathon de Paris, as well as the Paris-Roubaix cycling tour. It's also this spring's first big horse-racing event at Hippodrome de Longchamp. So I expect to be out with my camera, experimenting with action shots. What are your plans for a (hopefully) sunny Sunday?
Lanterns, murals and mosaics in the historic Greek Orthodox Church of St. George, Madaba, Jordan.
Happy Easter to you and yours.
My late grandmother Lucille had a curious collection of porcelain and ceramic animal figurines. As a small child, I was thrilled when she gave me this porcelain rooster, made in Japan. For a while, she looked after it at her house. But after the rooster lost its head - probably thanks to my rambunctious little brothers forever racing through rooms at breakneck speed - heavy-duty glue mended the break and the rooster came home with me.
What seemed so special about the rooster - other than it being a present from my grandmother - I can't imagine. But somehow that rooster has survived the years and now it's with me in Paris. I keep it in a cupboard, as it's definitely not my taste. But I can't bring myself to throw it away, because of the connection to my grandmother. Ridiculous, I know: we don't need material things to remind ourselves of our loved ones.
As a child growing up in the South,
Easter Sunday was a big production. We wore new dresses and sometimes
hats to church. We dyed Easter eggs and filled our be-ribboned and fake-grass-filled baskets with eggs found in backyard egg hunts. We gave each other chocolate bunnies and eggs and played silly
games. Some friends received real baby chicks, dyed in shades of pink or green. Of course, they quickly lost interest, sealing the fate of the little "pets."
As a teenager, I sang in the choir at the First Presbyterian Church, where we performed special music for Easter, including my favorite, Joseph Haydn's The Seven Last Words of Christ. Wherever I live, I try to attend an Easter church service. The most memorable was an open-air sunrise service with my daughter Jordana at Mount Nebo, Jordan. It is said to be the place where Moses first glimpsed the Promised Land, as well as where he later died. Some Biblical scholars believe the prophet Jeremiah hid the tabernacle and the Ark of the Covenant on Mount Nebo.
Wherever you are this Easter (or Passover), hope your weekend is happy and enriched with blessings!
Chairs with needlepoint pillows at St. Mary's, Oxford, England.
A bookcase of hymnals at St. Mary's and late-afternoon shadows on the stairs.
"Happy, happy, joy, joy" was an oft-repeated tagline from the American cartoon series on Nicklelodeon "The Ren and Stimpy Show." The program was popular when my daughter was growing up and seems appropriate for April Fool's Day, long a tradition for fun and harmless pranks.
These images are from our Journey to Jordan in March. Tala, the eight-year-old girl pictured at right, lives with her family near Kerak. The laughing baby, Yara, lives in Amman. She is the daughter of William, a friend and my driver when in Jordan.
The young boys joking around are from Ghor, near the Dead Sea; as is the woman laughing and hiding her face behind her hand.
The photo of the smiling family members was snapped in Petra. The two women sharing a joke work at the wool dyeing center for the Bani Hamida Women's Weaving Project on Bani Hamida Mountain.
The image of the beautiful Gillian da Silva of Toronto was taken at dinner in a Bedouin tent in Beidna, near Petra. The photos of Jordan's top photographer Zohrab taking pictures of the lovely Renee Binkowski of San Francisco and her tattoo - and clowning around in the second image - were shot in Petra.
The last photo is of Renee and Christine Mason Miller laughing on Bani Hamida Mountain.
Whatever pranks and practical jokes come your way, hope you have an April Fool's Day full of fun and laughter!
Aqua blue glasses are for sale from the Al Khalil Glass Factory in Jordan. Once thriving, with highly-sought-after glass, the factory ceased operation after a main route to the Dead Sea was diverted. Today, remnants of the factory's production are sold by appointment to locals and tourists who seek out the beautiful Hebron glass.
Aqua glass fish in various sizes.
Clear, aqua and pale blue goblets, carafes and pitchers.
Cobalt blue and clear glass vases and candlesticks.
Green, clear, aqua and amber glass pitchers.
A bowl of aqua glass beads, coated in dust.
Hand-blown glass vases in green, blue and amber.
Clear and cobalt candlesticks, rarely disturbed and therefore covered with dust.
Amber covered spice jars.
Decorative glass vases.
Handblown blue and green glass goblets to hold candle votives.
Glass medallions containing inscriptions from the Koran.
A showpiece light fixture, from the factory's height of production.
Mottled glass, which is paper-thin and deceptively fragile.
Popular Hebron pottery.
Blue-and-white ceramic candlesticks.
Candlesticks and bells.
These images were shot at an abandoned glass factory on the outskirts of Amman, Jordan. The factory was once thriving and featured in many guidebooks. But a new road to the Dead Sea diverted most of the tourist traffic. The factory subsequently lost its government license and was forced to cease production. A limited selection of decorative glass from the factory's final production is still sold in an adjacent room. Check back soon for photos of the hand-blown glass.
Broken examples of frosted glass.
A ladder, unused equipment and debris.
Rays of sunshine spill through holes in the wall and ceiling.
A corroded, rusting barrel.
Peeling paint.
A rusty fan.
A mirror proclaiming "Palestine forever" and "I heart Palestine."
A fading Tree of Life mural at an old glass factory on the outskirts of Amman, Jordan.
I'm following in Julochka's footsteps at Moments of Perfect Clarity. Want to play along? Create your own "If I were..." list. Here's mine:
If I were a month, I'd be September.
If I were a time of day, I’d be midnight.
If I were a sea animal, I’d be a dolphin.
If I were a piece of furniture, I'd be antique.
If I were a liquid, I’d be burgundy.
If I were a gemstone, I'd be a blue diamond.
If I were a tree, I’d be a Magnolia.
If I were a flower, I’d be a white rose.
If I were a musical instrument, I’d be a Spanish guitar.
If I were a color, I’d be teal blue.
if i were an emotion, I’d be passionate.
If I were a fruit, I’d be a fig.
If I were a sound, I’d be soft.
If I were an element, I’d be water.
If I were a car, I’d be a Jaguar.
If I were a food, I’d be jambalaya.
If I were a place, I’d be by the sea.
If I were material, I’d be pure cotton.
If i were a taste, I’d be lemongrass and lime.
If I were a scent, I’d be subtle.
If I were a body part, I’d be an eye.
If I were a song, I'd be dancing.
If I were a bird, I’d be a white owl.
If I were a gift, I’d be thoughtful.
If I were a door, I’d be wooden.
If I were a pair of shoes, I’d be black suede heels.
If I were a poem, I’d write it myself.
Abandoned glass factory on the outskirts of Amman, Jordan.
Desperately seeking a quiet, soothing place to let the daylight in... Prayers, positive energy and good thoughts are much appreciated.
Graffiti on a building in a village near Kerak, Jordan.
The United States has witnessed some truly amazing change this week. First, there was reason to celebrate with the passage of a landmark health care reform bill. But the hard-fought victory for Americans was marred by near-hysterical reactions from those with little or no knowledge of the benefits the legislation provides. Polls indicated the majority of those complaining the loudest had failed to read anything about the reform bill. Instead, they reacted angrily to false information and slanted talking points they'd heard repeated by right-wing talk show hosts.
A few unhinged "teabaggers" resorted to violence and despicable language and behavior not seen since the Civil Rights movement in the 1960s. And weakened GOP party leaders appeared complicit by failing to strongly denounce their fellow Republicans' acts of extremism. Such inaction suggests the Party of No has well and truly lost not only its direction, but its moral compass.
"The black commie Nazi did it"
Ok, my blog; my opinion. If you'd like to express your opinion here about health care reform or the teabaggers' actions, you're welcome. All I ask is that you stick to the facts; don't repeat supposition you've heard on Fox "News." I won't waste time and energy debating the erroneous, outlandish pseudo-information put forth by right-wing talk show hosts such as Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh (shouldn't he be in Costa Rica by now?).
Update Sunday, March 28: Frank Rich writes in The New York Times: The rage is not about health care.
Cartoon drawing in the Paris Metro, which is again on strike today.
The Arabic version of graffiti: information and phone numbers scrawled on a wall in Aqaba, Jordan.
A public bulletin board of sorts in the seaside resort town of Aqaba, on the Red Sea.
Information about a mosque under construction outside Amman is written on the wall.
From Robert Frost:
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it
And spills the upper boulder in the sun,
And make gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there,
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
"Stay where you are until our backs are turned!"
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of outdoor game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There were it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors."
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
"Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down." I could say "Elves" to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there,
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having though of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."
An abundance of wildflowers blooming at Jerash, Jordan. Hope the sun is shining wherever you are today!
Young Jordanian photographer Yara Dabis shot these photos in Ghor, near the Dead Sea. Yara's striking images of Jordanian women are currently featured in an exhibition in Amman.
This lovely woman was a charming hostess, offering us beverages and delicious flatbread. She also gave me a traditional Jordanian dress she'd made by hand. Of course I could not accept her generosity, without paying for the dress.
This engaging woman lived nearby and kindly posed for photos.
Spice markets, downtown Amman, Jordan.
I grew up reading about frankincense and myrrh that the Three Kings brought to Mary and Joseph, to celebrate the birth of the Baby Jesus. But until this month at a Bedouin camp in Beidna, near Petra, I'd never actually smelled frankincense burning in its purest form. The delicious aroma was enough to convince me to bring some back to Paris.
This spice merchant told me his daughter lives in Michigan. Asked if he'd visited her in the United States, he replied, "No; the US is only for young people."
A big bag of dried chili peppers.
Another shop with bins filled with spices.
Beans, peas and popcorn.
Orange/red marigold.
Drawers and bins containing rare spices and pulses.
Bags of nuts, rice and beans.
Filling a special order.
Some spices are on special offer at this shop.
Since returning from Jordan a week ago, I've been busy being hostess to two sets of guests. I also escorted visiting American friends to the brocante and ham fair at Chatou (see next post). Check back soon for more photos and tales of our Journey to Jordan.
My friend Gillian going native: trying on an antique headdress at the famous Al-Afghani Bazaar, Amman. We managed to find quite a few treasures here; more about them in an upcoming post.
Downtown Amman, Jordan is filled with an Aladdin's Cave of delights. Among them: freshly brewed Arabic coffee.
Take your pick of flavours and spices, including the ever-popular cardamon.
Roasting coffee beans.
A vendor carries a brass teapot and tray of glasses past stalls of knitted hats and scarves.
Sugarcane juice, anyone? This gentleman kindly agreed to pose for a photograph.
Crossing the street.
Traditional dresses trimmed with teal designs.
Red embroidery and cross-stitches accent these dresses.
Window display featuring traditional designs.
Bolts of neatly-stacked fabric in a tailor's shop.
Gillian and Julian at the Gold Market.
Feeling lucky? Here's your chance to play the numbers.
An old hotel that's seen better days. On one building in Amman, a sign proclaims "Life could be better."
A variety of tempting perfume oils.
King Hussein Mosque.
A flowering tree hints of spring. More snapshots of Jordanian life to follow.
These antique textiles and jewelry (photos shot through glass) are on display at a museum at the Amman Amphitheatre. I forgot to bring a card reader and have had erratic internet service, so no chance yet to extract photos I've been taking this week. On Thursday, I visited the Jordan River Foundation's textile division, to watch talented women work on some stunning collaborative projects. More about their creations in another post.
Meanwhile, I'm working on a photographic essay and have been meeting the most astonishing Bedouin women. I'm thrilled with the images, as well as the experiences. Such amazing struggles these strong women have endured! I've been very privileged to spend time with them, not to mention the honour of photographing them.
William, my trusty driver and assistant and I have been trekking all over the country, seeking introductions to these women. Some of their stories are heartbreaking; others, inspiring. Their rich histories are etched on their faces and not just in tattoos, a dying tradition that's now frowned upon among Arab tribes.One lively woman told me she wants a copy of her photo, to display it in the church at her funeral!
I photographed a wonderful woman and her eight-year-old granddaughter, wearing their hair in matching braids. They insisted on giving me a beautiful traditional dress they'd hand-embroidered. Of course I couldn't accept, without paying them for it.
Some of the images I've captured were difficult to take. A blind woman was living in a tent swept bare of all but basic necessities. With every click of the camera shutter, she let out a sigh. The woman was desperately poor, as were many of the Bedouin families I encountered.
One large extended family lived among the ruins in an ancient stone village near Hmod. The village elders were happy to have their photos taken, but a young married woman sitting on a blanket drinking tea jumped up and ran away, even though I assured her I wouldn't take her picture. In contrast, the sheik in charge of the tribe was pleased to pose and discussed his efforts to try to improve their lot.
Today in our travels we encountered torrential lashing rains, which left roaring streams of muddy water rushing through the desert and across roads. Rocks fell from cliffs onto the roads below, while the desert was saturated, with giant pools of excess water remaining on the surface. On a mountain route near Kerak we were forced to turn back, as water flooded the road. But it was worth every inconvenience for the photos!
Antique textiles and heavy silver jewelry on display at a folkloric museum adjacent to the Amman Amphitheatre.
On Saturday, am off to a different part of Jordan, in search of more tattooed women in their colourful embroidered costumes.
And Sunday and Monday, the group of photographers arrive for the grand tour. We have a jam-packed schedule and I'm so excited to show them the best of the Kingdom's myriad attractions.
Hope you're having an adventure or two in your corner of the world! Do tell!
Leave a comment about your latest adventure or your plans to welcome spring and I'll send the winner - drawn March 10 from commenters' names - a souvenir from Jordan. Good luck!
My daughter Jordana climbing the steep stone steps of the Amman Amphitheatre, which was built by the Romans.
Waving en route to the top.
The hills above the amphitheatre and a portrait of King Abdullah II.
A view of Amman and the amphitheatre from the Citadel. I am in Amman, for the next two weeks plus. Am looking forward to welcoming an interesting group of women (and one man) beginning Sunday. We'll tour Jordan's hot spots and the ancient Nabatean city of Petra, one of the New Seven Wonders of the World.
I'll escort the group to some of my favourite places and introduce them to some intriguing local customs. We'll also receive landscape photography tips from Zohrab, Jordan's most renowned photographer. Wish you could join us! But we'll take lots of photos and will blog about the trip, so it is hoped you'll feel as though you're here!
Other views of the city. Click photos to view details.
A 1920s French mannequin wearing a vintage apron from Thailand and antique Jordanian and Bedouin ornate silver and coral necklaces (including as a headdress) and bracelets.
Many thanks to fabulous editor Jacqueline deMontravel for featuring Paris Parfait as a "Blog We Love" in the April issue of Romantic Homes magazine!
Jacqueline contacted me last November, just before my daughter and I were departing for Jordan. As requested, I sent some photos upon my return to Paris, but wasn't sure when my blog would be mentioned.
Alas, the magazine isn't available in Paris. So it wasn't until today, when my friend Marilyn opened the magazine's latest issue and emailed me, that I knew the feature had been published, along with three of my photos. Such a lovely start to my Wednesday morning!
Merci bien, Romantic Homes! Now where can I find your magazine in Paris??!! I usually buy copies in London, but since Borders closed, difficult to find.
Camels in Petra, Jordan.
Am busy trying to finish some projects, as well as preparing to depart for the Middle East. If I haven't caught up with your email or your blogs, I will soon. Check back later for a more substantial post.
Meanwhile, have you seen the World Press Photo award winners? Powerful images.
Getting an unruly flock of sheep out of the road, Ajloun, Jordan.
Live sheep and goats were for sale all over the country on the eve of the Eid Muslim holiday.
A child tentatively touches a sheep.
Children continue to bother the sheep feeding at a trough, annoying this ram.
This little boy is a blur of motion as he touches a sheep, then turns to run.
After their purchase, this family heads home. Each animal costs around $250 and up. The sheep would have been slaughtered and eaten during the Eid celebrations.
The little boy (center) with energy to burn certainly enjoyed attention.
These laughing boys could barely stay still long enough for a photograph.
Young shepherds with their flock at twilight.
Handmade fabric dolls at the Jordan River Foundation, Bani Hamida Mountain, Jordan.
A weaver puts finishing touches on a rust-coloured rug featuring numerous patterns.
Last December my daughter Jordana and I made an impromptu visit to the Jordan River Foundation. The women were kind enough to give us tea, as well as allow us access to their showroom and their work area. Of course, a couple of beautiful handmade rugs came home with us!
The Bani Hamida Women's Weaving Project has revived traditional Bedouin rug weaving in the Makawir community, with older women teaching rug-weaving techniques to younger generations. The effort was initiated in 1985 by Save the Children Federation. In 1998, the project was absorbed into the Jordan River Foundation. Women in several villages now help maintain the Jordanian rug-weaving tradition.
Close-up detail of the rug panels.
Stacks of handmade rugs.
Trimming fringe on a small rug.
A container of rugs and wall-hangings.
A decorative wall-hanging.
Rugs in variations of browns, rusts and creams.
Aqua, rust and cream patterns.
Rusts, yellows, blues and greens in these rugs and wall-hangings.
Strong primary colours are dominant in these rugs and wall-hangings adorned by thick yarn tassels.
Scroll down the page for a post about the Bani Hamida weavers' yarn and wooden spindles.
A weaver uses a wooden spindle for yarn at the Jordan River Foundation on Bani Hamida Mountain, Jordan. The beautiful rugs produced by Jordanian Bedouin women weavers are made by hand.
Unravelled yarn.
Balls of colourful yarn used for weaving rugs.
Compartments separate yarn via colour and shade.
Cream and white balls of yarn.
Sunset at Ajloun Castle, Jordan.
Birthday greetings to His Majesty King Abdullah of Jordan, who turns 48 today. Am looking forward to returning next month to the beautiful Hashemite Kingdom.
When His Majesty was still HRH Prince Abdullah, he was an avid sportsman and champion rally car driver, in addition to his official duties. I have fond memories (and many photos) of those days, when I handled press and publicity for then-Prince Abdullah's team. His winning Opel Manta rally car is currently on display at the Royal Automobile Museum in Jordan (photos in an upcoming post).
Money exchange sign in historic downtown Amman, Jordan. After exchanging their money for Jordanian dinars, many foreigners (and locals) like to shop in the popular gold souk.
The vast array of 24-karat and 18-karat gold offerings may prove irresistible (although my daughter Jordana showed remarkable restraint).
Important to keep one's sense of humor, when confronted with such tempting choices. In the Middle East, gold is considered an essential part of a bridal dowry.
Years ago I bought a 24-karat gold bracelet and ring at the Amman gold market. When I was living in New York, the price of gold soared and I sold the jewelry at a profit.
Fancy a shopping expedition in Amman? An unexpected cancellation has left one space available for our Journey to Jordan March 1-8. Go here for more information about this chance to visit Petra, one of the New Seven Wonders of the World and for landscape photography tips from Zohrab.
