All I want for Christmas is...a Car

Living in the West Bank definitely has its perks (cheap chocolate, cheap rent, no English, friendly locals, a marked increase in my coolness ratings), but it also has a few drawbacks. Mainly, that it takes me so long to take a smorgasbord of public transportation options to get anywhere that on the days I don't go in to Jerusalem, I generally just don't go anywhere. My daily taxi ride is getting expensive, and frankly some days I'm sick of walking in the freezing rain, waiting for busses, and dealing with taxi drivers after a long day.

For Christmas this year, I had one wish: I wanted a car. So I got one.

Unfortunately, I had to return it to the rental agency the next morning, but oh what joy! what freedom! what excitement! The 24 hours that I had the car were filled with wonder and majesty--the best way to spend Christmas.

My friend Sahar and I rented a car so we could get out of Jerusalem/Bethlehem and go up north to Nazareth and the Sea of Galilee. It was somewhat of a surreal experience to go from Bethlehem to Nazareth and back on Christmas day...and I don't think I'll ever understood how Mary did that on a donkey while pregnant!

We visited some members of the branch in Nazareth (who seriously have the cutest family and one of the most beautiful houses I have ever seen!) before driving on to the Sea of Galilee. And yes, even though it was Christmas and everyone else was wearing sweaters and scarves, it was warm enough for me to wear short sleeves.



The Sea of Galilee was beautiful. Most people were at work and school, so we had the sea and the boardwalk mostly to ourselves!

Sahar and her sister, Samar.

The real reason I was dying to go up north for Christmas was so that I could get away from the constant tension and stress of Jerusalem--but also so I didn't have to sit at home (either my own or someone else's!) and think about how this was my third Christmas abroad in four years and miss my adorable nieces and nephews. And a trip up north was exactly what I needed. I came back from this trip even more determined to find a car to buy here, but also ready to face at least another week of border crossings, checkpoints, public transportation, and the never-ending feeling of tension and anxiety that fills the city of Jerusalem.

Dear car, it was wonderful.

17 Minutes at the Alamo

While I was in Texas I drove out to Austin to visit UT-Austin (a possible future graduate school option) and then stayed that night at my friend Michelle's house in San Antonio (thanks Michelle and Chris!). I realized that I might not ever be in this close of proximity to that Alamo again and decided that I had to go see it.

As I exited the freeway and approached this historical monument, I looked down at the gas gauge and foud it to be nearly empty. Now wanting to search for parking and run out of gas in the middle of downtown San Antonio, and also not knowing exactly how many minutes I had before the tank was dry (because it was my brother-in-law's car), I began searching for a gas station. And searching. And finally, just when I thought the car would die for sure, I ran across this place:

It looked relatively safe (it had to be safe! It was right across from the cemetery)

so I hopped out and went to the pump. Unfortunately, this gas station was so ghetto that I had to go to the cashier to pay. And the gas station was a booth, with a cashier, some drinks and candy, and cigarettes inside of the booth. In order to pay for my gas before I could pump it I had to walk up to the window (see the woman bending over next to the window in the first picture?) and tell the cashier inside of the bullet-proof cracked glass that I wanted $20 of gas. I gave him my card and, since it was debit, I had to enter my pin. While I was wondering how I would ever do that, the side of the wall opened up with the key pad in it. I suddenly realized that if anyone needs to enter their pin, or if they buy anything, the cashier puts it in the "box" from his side and then shuts it on his side, which opens it up to the other side. Perhaps this is to keep the cashier (who was probably 5'11" and 250 pounds and didn't look like he needed defending!) safe?

Oh, and it wasn't intimidating at all that I was the only caucasion female there, and 7 police cars passed by in the 10 minutes I was there. I felt safe in the day, but I don't think I would recommend that place at night!

Anyway, back to the Alamo. I desperately wanted to see the Alamo, but I just as desperately didn't want to pay $10 for parking. I finally found a street meter two blocks away from the edifice, and after checking how much change I had with me I put it all in the meter.

All 35 cents. Which bought me exactly 17 minutes of parking time.

I walked swiftly (I would have run, but I am sure people would have thought I had just stolen something!) to the Alamo and, as proof, took pictures of the most important things there:
A door, of course

A cactus (an integral part of the Alamo!)

And the Alamo itself.


I then walked swiftly back to my car, unlocking it exactly 17 minutes after I put my coins in the meter. It reminded me of the time I went to the Egyptian Museum in Cairo and, after getting a short guided tour of the most important things, was given 30 minutes of free time. To see the whole Egyptian Museum (which is huge, by the way!). I was determined not to miss anything, and so literally ran through the whole museum looking at everything. I saw everything in that museum...but don't remember anything! Oh well, if it was there, I saw it!

It was probably a good thing that I didn't stay there for more than 17 minutes, because it didn't look like the safest place in town. I may or may not have parked 2 doors down from a bar with a creepy man standing outside keeping guard and watching me. And this was the building I parked next to:

And this was a cool picture I took out my window at the building just down the street:


Anyway, the Alamo is a lot smaller than I remembered from the 15-years-before when I had visited it for the first time. It was almost disappointing to go back as a big person and see how small it really was. And so I think 17 minutes at the Alamo was a perfect amount of time...

Road trip to Texas, round 2

I just got home from a road trip to Texas. It was ideal: drive out and fly back. That way, I got my "driving detox time" after summer term ended and before fall semester started, but I didn't go insane from too much time spent in the car by myself. It was much more chill (and safer!) than Road Trip to Texas, round 1 And best of all, I placed the trip under the guise of being incredibly kind and altruistic and driving a car out for my sister and brother-in-law, so I didn't even have to pay for gas. It was a dream.

A few highlights:

*Two days before I was supposed to leave and only a few hours after I had picked the car up, it started making a horrible screaming-clicking-knocking-thumping sound and broke down. Don't worry, after 4 hours Monday morning and a horrible experience at Certified Auto Repair in Provo (those guys are real jerks. I would only recommend them if you are looking for overpriced, shoddy service, and an encounter with certified jerks. But I might have been influenced by their motto, painted on the wall, which was, "Our desire is for your auto repair experience to be friendly and successful." How can you have a friendly experience? It was awkward grammar), I finally got out of Provo at 12 noon, only 6 hours later than I had planned.

*For some reason (involving a forgotten number password and a recent car repair), the radio and tape player do not work in the Saturn, the car I drove to Texas. 26 hours in the car with no music? I can barely even do 26 minutes in a car with no music! So we got an inverter and I brought along my cd player. I was listening to a book on tape, O Jerusalem (which is awesome, by the way), and in order that I might hear it over the roar of the car and the road and to keep it from continually skipping, I held the cd player on my lap. It was a thrill.

*I finally saw the Monticello temple.

*I stopped at a posh 2-star hotel in Albuquerque (Super 8) with free wi-fi. I walked into the hotel and said I needed to check in and the desk clerk said, "You're Breanne, right?" Shocked, I asked her how she knew, and she said, "You're the only one to check in tonight!" I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. They also put me in the handicapped room, which meant I had a bigger bathroom and a shower instead of a tub. The hotel, trying to be chic and up-to-date, had one of those curved shower curtain rods in the bathroom. (This is not THE shower curtain rod, but just an example I found on the internet. Of it installed correctly.)

However, they must have forgotten to read the installation instructions, because instead of the curve going out, allowing for more room and light in the shower, it went in. It was really awkward to try and avoid brushing against the shower curtain when it took up half of the shower. And I was going to take a picture, but I had left my camera in the car. So just try to imagine, and laugh.

*New Mexico is so much better to drive through late at night and early in the morning. I really timed it perfectly and instead of having to see hours of sun-baked ground for miles and miles, with nothing to disturb it except some trailers and an overturned car in a field, I drove through most of it at night and so didn't see anything but the freeway anyway. It was much more pleasant than last time, when I drove through NM in the middle of the day.

*Somewhere before Albuquerque, I drove around a bend in the freeway and saw, to my horror, a huge glowing-red building that looked, in the darkness, as though it was floating on nothing. It looked like the house of the devil himself, but was actually a casino. Or are those the same thing? Anyway, no picture, but know that after creeping me out just a little, it reminded me of this building in Jordan that I affectionately called the "Tower of Babel." It was actually a hotel, but looks like the real thing.


*Apparently in Texas it is entirely kosher to use the passing lane if you are going no more than one-mile-an-hour faster than the car in the right lane. And if it takes 5 minutes to pass three cars that's ok too, even if you have a line of cars behind you on a two-lane road.

*Remember my story about washing my car with the window-washing squeegees provided at gas stations? I found the perfect contraption for this somewhere in Texas.


Like I said, it was a dream. And I didn't feel once like I was about to die. More details about my time in Texas, including an exciting "17 minutes at the Alamo," to come.