Political-philosophical analysis of the Republican Party

Based upon my basic understanding of the Republican Party, I know that it stands for small government, meaning that government should generally not interfere with freely-existing social and economic forces.

Listening to the radio this morning, it dawned on me that the Republican Party -- particularly President Bush and the Secretary of the Treasury -- is playing a major role in the initiative to intervene in our downwardly-spiralling economy. Personally I have no problem with this government intervention. But the question arose: based on the political philosophy of the Republican Party, why would they be getting involved or even supporting this government intervention in the economy?

Being a political question, the question is ultimately one that concerns the issue of power, which in practical terms, is money. Redefining the question, then: why would the Republican Party actively intervene in the country's economic decline? The answer: because Republicans represent -- and are themselves -- the class that is facing a real loss of power due to their ownership and interest in the U.S. economy.

Now this makes perfect sense. And really, one cannot criticize this policy as anything other than rational decisionmaking: the policymakers are simply protecting their own interests and the interests of those that they represent.

But where this analysis gets interesting, I believe, is when one considers the dialectical opposite: when -- and more importantly, why -- does the Republican Party not support government intervention in the economy (or other social matters)? The answer: when their interests as representatives of the upper-class, corporations, and the economic elite are not at risk; for example, in matters of economic justice and social welfare (read, when the poor lower-class and politically-irrelevant sectors of the middle class are not involved). And this reality -- and its concomitant revelation of the hypocrisy of the Republican Party's political philosophy -- exposes the Republican Party as class-biased.

Now, I'm aware that the idea that the Republican Party is class-biased is not necessarily a novel concept. Interpolating and applying this political philosophy at the individual level, however, is what really concerns me; think about this: the Republican true to her/his party's political philosophy makes a choice to refuse to help an economically-unfortunate lower- or middle-class neighbor, and will only choose to get involved if an upper-class neighbor or corporation's economic health is in jeopardy.

When we then humanize the faces of the lower-class, we see the reality that a majority of this class has some hue of brown skin and lives largely in urban areas. It is at this point that the class bias, perhaps arguably justifiable under a rational analysis or social-Darwin approach, moves dangerously in the direction of racial or ethnic bias, something which is no longer justifiable under any analysis or approach other than an explicitly racist one.

My conclusion here is not that the policy of the Republican Party is a proxy for any particular racial agenda. My ultimate point is that the underlying structure of the Republican Party -- in its philosophy of small government -- is morally indefensible. And even more so because, in real life, this political philosophy is ignored when convenient to those in power, thus exposing the hypocrisy of the Republican politicians themselves.

Post-weekend thoughts

I've recently noticed that the latest fad hairstyle for girls is straight bangs across the lower forehead. I must say that I'm not a huge fan. Don't get me wrong, some girls can pull off this look, but I've already seen several girls that definitely cannot.

At last night's house party, we heard some classic Hall & Oates stuff. Man, that was some good music, and I must say, you really don't hear that kinda stuff on the radio any more. Those guys just ooze Philly soul:

(photo source)

Lastly, tomorrow is opening day for the Philadelphia Phillies. Let's hope that this season has all the positive energy, excitement, and success that exemplified last season, and even more. Let's also hope that the Fightin' Phils don't make us wait until the last game of the season to clinch the NL East. Go Phils!!!

Actualizacion del fin de semana

Estimados lectores hispanohablantes,

Primero, gracias por chequear mi sitio del internet. Es bueno saber que no estoy escribiendo para nadie ni nada. Pues, les doy mis sinceros aplausos por su patrocinio.

Ahora, a las noticias de ultima hora. El viernes tuve un dia muy largo; trabaje desde la 10:45 de la manana hasta 11 de la noche. Despues de trabajar tantas horas solo quise regresar a la casa para relajarme, ver tele, y chequear el internet. Durmi muy bien esa noche.

El sabado era un dia de mandados. Fui a la lavanderia para lavar las sabanas, y mientras que estaba lavando fui al mercado para comprar mi comida para la semana. Vi a un buen amigo, quien trabaja como cajero en el mercado, y hable por un rato con el, dandole unas cortas historias (lo mas destacado) de mi gira a Egipto.

El sabado en la noche fui a una fiesta en la casa ("house party") de un amigo/companero del trabajo. El vive en el 18 piso de los condominios Ellington, ubicados en la interseccion de la 15 y Chestnut, dos cuadras de City Hall -- el gran edificio de la alcaldia -- y solo una cuadra del rascacielo(s) mas nuevo de la ciudad, que todavia esta bajo construccion: Residences at the Ritz-Carlton. Bueno, en la fiesta, habia unos companeros de nuestro trabajo y los demas eran companeros de la universidad de derecho ("law school") -- Villanova -- de mi amigo.

Lo mejor de la noche era un juego de borrachos (usando naipes por supuesto) que se llama "Bullshit Pyramid." No tengo la paciencia para explicarlo aqui (chequea el link), pero les puedo decir que el juego cumple el objetivo de hacerse a uno bien ahumado. Nos divertimos mucho.

Me despidi de la fiesta un poquito antes de las 2 de la noche, y fui directamente a un pizzeria "late night" para dos pedazos de pizza, uno con chorizo y el otro solo con queso.

Bueno, eso es todo lo interesante (y responde el lector: "mae, interesante??? que hijueputa escritor mas aburrido!!!"). Debo terminar aqui antes de que pierdo su atencion. Gracias por leer mi blog. Espero que sigan chequeando aunque casi siempre estoy escribiendo en ingles, pero podemos justificarlo como su leccion diario en ingles. Y con eso, se despide su profesor del dos-quince. Pura birra, mae!!!

Cira

Last night, as I was walking home, I noticed the lights of Cira Centre flashing quickly from red to light blue to red to light blue . . . It was beautiful. I loved it because I could understand how the midrise skyscraper, the lone skyscraper west of the Schuylkill River, would want to flash its lights brilliantly in order to draw attention away from the Center City skyline and toward itself. In contrast to the high energy and perpetual persistence of Cira's flashing lights, the Center City skyline -- made up of Comcast Center, Liberty One and Two, the Mellon Bank Center, and the Bell Atlantic Tower -- was barely lit up other than the lights from inside the offices themselves, and was, for all intents and purposes, lifeless.

Tonight I again noticed the flashing lights of Cira Centre, but this time as a reflection off of one of the anonymous midrise buildings in Center City. And I thought to myself, man, this building keeps catching my eye, it keeps on flashing its lights, it keeps on calling to the rest of the city: look at me, look at me! I love that attitude, because, as an isolated midrise, there is no egotism or excessive pride in that flashing, just a sincere and passionate desire to shine. I love that attitude, because sometimes I feel the same way, I just wanna do my thing and I wanna do it with a little flash, a little panache, a little something different, although not too too proud, but in the end I wanna be noticed, especially at nighttime -- just like Cira.

To read a poem that I wrote about Cira, click this link:
Para leer un poema que he escrito sobre Cira, haga clic en:
"Lucitas Azules"

I'll wait and shine
as late in time
until you're mine.

Regreso a la vida cotidiana

"From the latest hiatus, the greatest is back to grace this faceless case." -- me (referring to my return back to the job)

I went to the gym tonight for just the second time since I got back from my Egypt/Europe trip. Although I'm sure I lost a couple pounds during the trip -- due to not working out at all for two weeks and an inconsistent eating schedule on the road -- I felt surprisingly strong tonight. For my bench press (barbell, free weight), I was able to put up 185 pounds (about my own body weight) for 6 repetitions, 205 lbs. for 4 reps, 225 twice, and in my final set, I benched 245 pounds just short of 2 times (the guy spotting me had to give me just a little bit of help on the left-hand side of the bar). For the rest of my exercises, I was able to do my normal weight progression with little difficulty at all. It felt really good.

Earlier tonight, while lounging on my couch and watching the Louisville-Tennessee men's basketball game on television, the Baby fell asleep on my stomach. I kept rubbing her tummy while she alternately stretched then retracted her claws. She kept purring the whole time; it was really nice.

Bueno, manana es viernes, y por eso como siempre me hace sentir muy feliz. En este momento no tengo grandes planes para el fin de semana, pero tengo ganas de salir o por lo menos hacer algo fuera de mi apartamento. Estoy pensando de jugar basketball el sabado en la tarde. Es posible que voy a trabajar unas horas extras tambien. Y en la noche unos traguitos no me matarian tampoco.

Espero que todos tengan un buen fin de semana. Desde la ciudad de amor fraternal: Philadelphia!

Mental Illness and Mental Stillness

Hey there! A couple interesting stories from earlier today:

As I was walking through Rittenhouse Square on my way to work this morning, I saw a homeless guy crouching next to one of the park benches. He was aggressively stomping his foot on the ground while yelling loudly, "you faggot!" Then he quickly stood up and looked back toward the spot on the ground where he was stomping and yelled passionately, "Leave me alone you faggot!!!" There was no one else within ten meters of him.

Later in the evening, I took a break from work and walked outside to the Wawa on our block. I went straight back to the refrigerated section because I had my mind set on getting some yogurt. When I got back there a disheveled woman said to me, "How are you?" I responded, "Good, how are you?", to which she replied, "Can you help me get some food?" I told her that I was going to get a yogurt, and that I'd get one for her. While rubbing her stomach, she said that she didn't like yogurt, and immediately asked me for money; I repeated and stuck firmly to my offer of giving her a yogurt. As if she was entitled to my money, she acted offended by my refusal to change my offer. So in response to her body language and attitude, I said to her, "how about a banana?" Without a word, she just walked away, ostensibly disgusted with me.

Finally today, in the interest of full and honest disclosure and to still any unsettled minds, I'd like to be clear about something. When I went to the red light districts of Essen and Amsterdam with Roland and his friends, not one of us talked to any of the girls, which means of course that not one of us had any business, so to speak, with any of the girls. To state this otherwise, in an affirmative form, we all simply walked around and observed the girls in the windows. So, although this clarification may disappoint some of my friends here in the U.S. who were hoping for a wild story, I must be honest -- as always. And especially in this case because I don't want any of my European friends to be painted in a misleading light.

Well, speaking of mental stillness, it's time for me to get a good night's sleep. Buenas noches! Until tomorrow, your friend in Philly.

Extrapyramidal Symptoms

Here are some pics from the Pyramids of Giza:

With the Great Sphinx of Giza:

Here you can get an idea of the immense size of the Great Pyramid, especially in perspective with the camel at the bottom of the pic:

Note the city of Cairo in the right background of this photo:

Thanks for checking out my pics! If you haven't done so already, check out the pics that I retroactively included in the appropriate posts below (there should be four additional photos in the various posts below). Ch-ch-ch-check it out!

Random observations

Yesterday I saw a guy whose one leg was shorter than the other. The rubber sole of his short-legged shoe was about 5 inches thick.

While riding the 7 bus yesterday a decrepit (though not old) man got off at 22nd and Washington. Right after stepping off the bus, he began dumping his trash -- what appeared to be candy wrappers -- into the gutter.

In Egypt a lot of the men have marks or bruises on their foreheads. They're there from hitting their head on the floor so much during prayers.

Philly seemed a bit quiet last night; must have been because it was the night before Easter.

I got all my photos developed. I'll upload a few more to this site some time later this afternoon. So be sure to check back, a'ight?

Pride for the Cherry & White

Earlier this afternoon, the Temple men's basketball team lost in the first round of the NCAA tournament by a score of 72-61 to Michigan State. A group of us from work went to the Cherry Street Tavern to watch the second half of the game.

Today's loss was a real disappointment, of course, but what's most important is -- as always -- to look at the bigger picture. And here, the big picture is that Temple undoubtedly had a great season. They are the 2007-08 Atlantic 10 champions. Before today's game, they finished the season with seven straight wins; in other words, they came together as a team and began rolling right when it mattered most. And considering the preseason prognostications, they far exceeded all expectations; that, in my mind, is the sign of a true champion: working your ass off and ultimately proving all the naysayers wrong through positive actions and concrete results.

Looking beyond today to the bigger picture that includes the future, almost the entire team returns next year -- and now with NCAA tourney experience (and the confidence that comes along with that) under their belts. Although Temple will lose their senior leader, Mark Tyndale, we'll still have our leading scorer, Dionte Christmas, who'll be a senior next season.

Props and many thanks once again to Luis Guzman, starting point guard, for hooking us up with comp tickets for several of this season's games. I'm already looking forward to next season, to seeing all the returning players get even better, and to seeing Temple continue to build up a nationally-recognized and -respected program.

In honor of the guys, and with pride for the cherry & white, I'll leave you now with the lyrics to Temple's two fight songs (you have the offseason to memorize):

"T for Temple U"

T for Temple U
Un-i-ver-sity!
Fight! Fight! Fight! For the cherry and the white;
For the cherry and the white we'll fight, fight, fight!

"Fight! Temple Fight!"

Fight! Temple, fight on!
Fight with all your might!
Fight for the Cherry and White,
Keep our colors high!
Roll that ball and hit the line,
All the Temple stars will shine,
Skill and courage win the game
Fight on, Temple, fight!

Welcome back!

It's hard to believe that I'm back in my apartment here in Philly. Perhaps it's even harder to believe that I actually went to work today. And maybe it's even harder yet for you to believe that you exist.

So the question that everyone is asking is as follows: what will this guy write about now that he's back? Well, let's see, should I tell you what I eat for lunch every day, or how many paces it takes to walk from my apartment to work, or the definition of shart? Ladies and gentlemen, the official party line is at this point -- on the initial question that is -- I don't know.

But I will give you this tidbit of information, which I have no doubt will excite you to no end: I have several (and by "several" I mean many) photos of my time in Egypt and Germany; a select few of these photos will be uploaded to this fine website in order to spice up the monotony of my endless blabbering (which for some reason you continue to read => LMA-OH!).

Anyway, to all those whom I saw today, thanks so much for so warmly welcoming me back. It really does feel good to be back. It's like they (?) say: there's no place like home!

Germany's Capital City

I arrived in Berlin shortly after 12 noon on Monday. Because there was a line at the tourist office, I decided that I could figure out everything on my own, and I just walked right out of Berlin Central Station.

When I walked out I saw some taller buildings not too far off, so I headed in that direction. Fortunately I walked directly to the Reichstag (Germany's Parliament building). From there I discovered I was within easy walking distance of Brandenburg Gate. This, in turn, put me right on the end of Unter den Linden, Berlin's notable boulevard -- their version of Paris' Champs Elyses or Philly's Benjamin Franklin Parkway (don't you love my Philly references?).

Unter den Linden marks the address of several key landmarks in Berlin; those that I visited were The National Library, Humboldt University, and the Memorial to Victims of War and Tyranny. I also think I saw the Zeughaus and/or the National Opera, but without a tour guide I wasn't certain what I was looking at.

From there, I followed street signs to Alexanderplatz, which is (roughly) Berlin's version of Times Square. Around that time I picked the pace as it started to drizzle, and I had no umbrella. I headed toward Friedrichstrasse, a street that showcased a mixture of modern buildings and historic facades. Before arriving there, though, I fortuitously came upon Gendarmenmarkt, a square bounded by two cathedrals and a concert building; it was very picturesque. Anyhow, I soon reached Friedrichstrasse, which then led me directly to Checkpoint Charlie, the infamous pass -- through the Berlin Wall -- connecting communist East Berlin with democratic West Berlin. The famous sign is still there, along with the actual gatehouse with a wall of sandbags piled in front.

The location of Checkpoint Charlie put me in a good position to walk several more city blocks to the Topography of Terror, an outdoor exhibit in progress, which included a substantially preserved and sizeable portion of the former Berlin Wall. Seeing that really touched me and got me thinking, to think that a wall could really separate two different worlds, to think that families had been separated for years without any contact whatsoever, to think that real people died trying to cross that wall in search of freedom, and to think that some elements of our current society can somehow believe that a wall can be and should be built along our southern border.

Leaving that behind, and continuing on my trek, I went to Potsdamer Platz, a central and major intersection near the city's few high-rise buildings, which exemplified a futuristic style of architecture. After taking a coffee break in a nice place right there, I headed below ground to look at a transit map in order to figure out how to get to Potsdam, a small city outside of Berlin, where I could visit one of the UNESCO World Heritage sites: Sanssouci Park. Somehow I accomplished all of this, and was still able to make it back to Berlin Central Station to catch a 7:48pm train all the way back to Essen.

It was a long day, but totally worth it. Berlin is a beautiful city, one that I would love to visit again, hopefully with a friend or friends or with a loved one.

Off to Berlin...

It's now late Sunday night, and I returned from my afternoon trip to Amsterdam just a couple of hours ago. Now I'm planning my day tomorrow: a day trip by myself to Berlin.

Amsterdam was, despite the uncomfortably cold weather and intermittent light rain, a beautiful city. The way that Amsterdam's sidewalks, shops and restaurants line the city's canals is really cool. Thinking about Philly, I have hopes that the Delaware River waterfront can be developed in a similar (in concept at least) way. In Amsterdam, we stepped into several souvenir shops and walked through the red light district, where - in a purely aesthetic sense - the girls were actually not bad-looking at all.

But speaking of girls, and I mean the everyday, decent types, I was very impressed with the girls I saw in Amsterdam. Maybe it was just the mix of different types: the tall, blonde, Dutch girls, the really hot brown-skinned girls from (or the descendants of parents from) the former Dutch colonies, and the beautiful-eyed and tantalizingly unattainable girls from the Middle East and Arab world. I tell ya, wham-bam, thank you ma'am, Amsterdam was damn hot, man!

Finally, right before leaving, I went to the Sex Museum. You'd think it would be exciting, and although I would still suggest it to anyone visiting the city, I ultimately say that it wasn't that big of a deal. There were just lots of photos of naked people, photos of them having sex and getting freaky and shit, and funny exhibits of movable mannequins undressing or moaning or squirting in your direction. But hey, for 3 Euros, it was still worth the price.

Anyway, that's all for now folks. I've gotta get a few hours of sleep now before waking up to get a 7:24am train from Essen to arrive at 11:08am in Berlin. I've already done some research online so as to know what to see (since I'm going solo). I'll return back to Essen late tomorrow night for one last rest before waking up super early on Tuesday for the return trip back to my final destination: the double-deuce and Spruce, of course.

Damn, man, I'm goin' to Amsterdam

Saturday night in Dusseldorf was good. Five of us went: Roland and his brother Alex, Roland's friends Ayman and Auggie, and me. Roland drove the family Mercedes for the half-hour ride from Essen to Dusseldorf, the main part of it on the famed German Autobahn. We hit our top speed of 220 kph, which converts to somewhere around 135 mph. And I guess as a testament to German engineering, I guessed out loud that we were only doing around 90 mph, then Alex pointed to the speedometer; man was that a smooth 135!

When we got there, the guys wanted to get some food, so we went to Subway. Inside there was a television with MTV on, so we watched some Jackass. From there we went to get ice cream at McDonald's. When we walked out of there, I joked with Ayman that I would return home to tell all my friends that I went to Dusseldorf to hang out at Subway and Mickey D's. He laughed, but I was ready to hit some true German bars.

We went to a few places that really showcased the stereotypical German pub/club environment: a lot of 80s music, mostly American but some German, to which the DJ would turn the volume down during the chorus so the whole place could sing it out loud, and this was nearly every song. The one song I remember was "Eye of the Tiger" because it reminded me of course of Rocky, which in turn reminded me of Phila.

After bouncing around to a few places we ended up at O'Reilly's Irish Pub, where they had karaoke (very popular here).

Well, after driving back from Dusseldorf, we stopped off to walk through Essen's small red light district. It was very interesting for me to see these women just sitting or standing in the windows of these places.

We got home at 3:30 in the morning, I had just enough energy to check online to see that Temple won the A-10 championship (which made me very happy), then I went to bed. I woke up this morning just before noon, which means that I'm totally refueled to push hard for the rest of my time here in Deutschland.

Well, time to go. Two of Roland's other friends just came by, and they are our ride to Amsterdam (about a 2 hour ride west of here). I'll be sure to take lots of photos. Alrightie then, check ya later!

Crunken dork in Dusseldorf

Or something like that. With an hour and a half nap just accomplished, I've quickly upped the ante, and decided that I simply must go out on a Saturday night (oooh! oooh!, it's Saturday, sticky icky icky icky). This means that we will go to Dusseldorf. Have fun tonight back in the Two One Fifth! And your humble ambassador will do likewise here.

Note bene: I saw the Bochum - Stuttgart match earlier today, which ended 1-1. Details to follow retroactively. But it's time to get proactive now, ya dig?

Go Temple in the A-10!

Alright homies! How you doin'? For all y'all that ain't keepin' up, Temple is in the A-10 final in a rematch tonight against who else but our cross-town rivals, St. Joe's. And if you've really been out of the loop click here for my run-down of the last game between the two, when Temple edged out St. Joe's in a one-point thriller at the Palestra. Temple's got strong support over here across the big pond, and we'll all be happy when they claim the A-10 title and thus secure a bid to the big dance. Go Temple!

In other news, there are riots in Tibet. And in other news, I am in Essen, Germany now, after a four and a half hour flight from Cairo to Cologne, then a two hour plus train ride on the slow, local "S" train from Cologne to Essen. But here I am, stinking it up after playing basketball and then soccer (do I have to say football?) here in the neighborhood. The shower is calling me, but I figured I'd stop in for a quick cameo.

The only final update to my time in Egypt was my visit yesterday evening at the Khan El-Khalili bazaar. As soon as I got out of the cab I was approached by a guy who told me to call him "Bob", I laughed at that one, but told him that I would play along.

Anyway the rest of that story is pretty good, but I'll have to fill it out later, since I have to hurry now if I want to go to a European football match. I hope the weather is getting nicer now in Philly. And without further ado, I'm off for a much-needed shower.

I'll leave you simply with a photo of me in Cairo's nicest and by far largest shopping mall, City Stars, in front of one of its most recognizable tenants; as one of the last photos taken before we went to the airport just a couple hours later, you would say it's a bit paradoxical, wouldn't you?

Walking (a lot) like an Egyptian

Good afternoon! It's Friday, 3:30pm, here in Cairo. Because I'm waiting to hear from my friend, and he could call at any minute, I have to keep this short and clinical, as much as anything to refresh my memory at a later time, and at that point to then fill in the details. So let's go chronological.

Yesterday, instead of going to the Pyramids as I had planned (and as I told you in the last post), I slept in, and then spent the entire day walking, walking, walking, in circles and down the same streets here in DownTown over and over again. The initial objective was simply to find an HSBC automatic teller machine that I had spotted the other night; as it turned out, it may have been easier to find a needle in a haystack. After walking for two hours straight, a new objective materialized: to keep walking as a way to get to know the city, its character, its people, its pulse, and in doing so, to become comfortable with my place, ever so brief yet ever so important, in the city. I stopped at fruit juice stands to drink orange juice or a cocktail mix (basically a fruit punch). I went into local dive restaurants to eat ful, or falafel tamia, or koshary. Towards evening I spent an hour at a local tea bar (although that sounds way too fancy for what it really is: a place for men to hang out and observe the streetscape and its goings-on); there I casually drank four chai (hot tea, of course), while playing my role in observing the city life and then taking some time to read the first part of the first chapter of The Trial by Franz Kafka (hilarious in its absurdity, I couldn't help laughing out loud several times). At some point in the day -- how can I remember when? -- I found the ATM, which at that point had become a mere pitstop in my minor hajj.

During my meanderings a mid-20-something guy came up to me and began speaking to me in English. I told him that I was hungry and if he could suggest a good place for koshary; he escorted me and we began talking of course. He then invited me to his business, a perfume shop, so that I could sit down and enjoy my food. Then he brought me up to the second floor of the shop to talk to me confidentially about my energy, which he said was essentially positive, but showed a little bit of stress, which conveniently enough (as I came to realize) he would be able to help me relieve, for a price not named or mentioned until I was totally roped in. Looking back I now know that the Cairo salesman is very subtle in his techniques, befriending you at first, then appearing to do you a favor in your own self-interest, then only at the very end bringing up the issue of price; which, to a freshman like me, was totally unexpected. Having to suddenly bargain for a product which I didn't know that I was going to buy is a bit disconcerting, but then you've gotta do what you've gotta do to protect yourself from being suckered. In the end I bought a bottle of perfume, supposedly tailored for my specific needs, at a third of the price that he wanted me to pay; and even still, from what others have told me, I probably paid a bit too much. Oh well, so it goes.

In the late evening, I came back to my hostel to hang out in the lobby with an Australian girl, a U.S. guy from Seattle, and a U.S. guy from Baltimore. It was a good conversation; all I'll say now is that the girl was talking mostly about relationships between Egyptians and foreigners, and their gender-specific permutations. This was going on when all of a sudden Roland steps off the lift, sees me, and says let's go. Totally reflexively I grabbed my bag, shook hands and left.

The night was really good. Roland, an Egyptian girl named Ruby and her brother Karim, and I went to a very fancy bar/lounge called Cairo Jazz Club. A live band, named Screwdriver, played really great music, from The Beatles to Bon Jovi. This was also one of the rare places that serves alcohol in Egypt, so I had my chance to try a Stella and a Sakkara, two of Egypt's three domestic beers. Apparently the crowd represented the young high society of Cairo, as well as some foreigners too.

This morning, knowing that it is my last day in Cairo, I got myself going early to the Pyramids. I took the microbus from Tahrir to Haram, not too far from the Pyramids, and walked the rest of the way there. Once there, I rode a camel, went through a very narrow and claustrophobic passageway underneath the big Second Pyramid, then rode a horse with a nice Egyptian named Sayid in order to take some nice photos of all the Pyramids at once.

Sayid explained to me the four types of Egyptians: Bedouin, Arab, Western-style city-dwellers, and Nubians. He also told me that very few Americans go to the Pyramids; nearly all the tourists there are Europeans. He didn't like the fact that the Americans that do go there are all there in packaged tours, and that this means that these tourists only contact with Egyptians is with their tour guide and bus driver. Sayid said that he really appreciated that I, as an American, took the time to talk with him and he was happy to hear that I was riding public transportation on my own in his country. I told him that I definitely agreed with him, and that tourists who only want to see the Pyramids without experiencing authentic Egyptian culture should just look them up in an encyclopedia.

As an aside here, though, I realize that many of the American tourists are seniors, so for them it might be advisable if not necessary to travel in an organized tour. Otherwise, I really feel like it is a form of (unintentionally? ego- & ethno-centric) cultural arrogance to visit foreign tourist sites without any other intercultural exchange.

Back to the story, though, Sayid's horse that I rode was named Aziza; it was awesome. I also took some photos of the Sphinx (I solved the riddle) before leaving. From there I walked for a couple of kilometers, then caught a public bus from there to Giza Square, where I got out and caught the Metro back to Tahrir. All along the way, I asked people where to go, and everyone was friendly and helpful, even if they spoke little or no English. I'm telling you, it IS possible to travel in countries where you don't speak the language, as long as you're willing to put yourself out there and dive in headfirst. The bus and the metro cost a total of 1.5 Egyptian pounds, or about a quarter in the U.S.; not bad, and to travel and be with the people on top of it, excellent!

So this is longer than I thought, and I'm sure I can fill in more details later. For now I have to go to see if I can contact Roland. Although he has to go to an Egyptian wedding tonight, and I can attend, I think I'll respectfully decline due to the fact that I have no professional -- or even clean -- clothing with me, and I would really like to go to the bazaar to get a few things before our 2:25am (yes: am) flight later tonight. Thus, my next post will probably be from somewhere in Germany.

I hope all is well with you back home, and I pray that everyone is happy and healthy. With that, I'll sign off from Cairo, Egypt. Check it, check it out!

Hi-Yo from Cairo

Tomorrow morning I'll get up first thing in the morning to visit the Pyramids. It's now 9:45pm here, and the city of Cairo is as awake as ever, but this is my last task before returning to my hostel (Sara Inn) to shower up and hit the sack.

We arrived in Cairo around 8:30am, after we caught a 10pm bus out of Siwa to Alexandria, then made the quick decision in Alexandria to just continue on immediately to Cairo. Although I slept on both buses, even to the point of drooling on the Arab scarf that I was wearing around my neck, my weariness is now catching up to me.

Cairo is one of the largest cities in the world. Due to a population explosion in recent decades, the city's infrastructure has not kept up with the number of inhabitants. And so the streets here are jam-packed with cars and with people. In addition there are very, very few traffic lights; I've been told that there are only two in the whole city, and that may be the truth.

As long as we're on this topic, let me relate an interesting adventure I had earlier this evening. I had to catch a microbus from the wealthy neighborhood of Nasr City (near the airport, and where Roland is staying with friends for the night) to the downtown area, in order to return to the hostel where I am staying for the next two nights. While I was catching the microbus, Karim (Roland's friend) was yelling at me to push my way into the microbus; I ended up squeezing my body facing backward while the sliding side-door to the van (i.e., the microbus) was still open while we were moving. At the next stop someone got off and I was able to replace their spot. The ride lasted for nearly 45 minutes through typical Cairo traffic; it's like the Daytona 500, there are no lanes, and every vehicle is constantly jockeying for position and weaving in and out of the other cars. Looking out the window of the van, I observed how much the city reminds me of the boroughs in New York, as there were lots of well-lit commercial establishments all over the place, with tons of people walking around. When I finally reached the last stop I got out and had to find my way on my own back to the hostel, with only a small map on the hostel's business card to guide me. Of course this meant crossing several major roads and intersections, which as I said earlier none of which have stop lights. This part of my trip reminded of the game Frogger, because I literally had to time my jumps from lane to so-called lane to avoid being hit by a car (earlier today while walking with Roland a car tried to turn where I was walking, and it's right front tire literally rolled over my foot before I hit the car with my hand and the driver stopped). As is common among pedestrians here, there were times while crossing the road that I had to wait, between lanes as cars passed by me, until I could proceed across another lane on the road. It was an exhilirating experience, although one that requires total attention.

Earlier today I visited the Egyptian Museum. Although I really like museums, they invariably make me tired and sleepy. But since I was alone I simply took my time and took plenty of rests. The best part of the Egyptian Museum was the exhibit of the Royal Mummies, for which I had to pay an additional entrance fee. This exhibit featured the mummies of such pharoahs as Hatshepsut and Tuthmosis. It was really cool and really surreal.

After my visit to the museum, I had to get lunch. I walked into a local restaurant, ordered two "ful" (bean-filled pita) and sat down to eat. Two men at the next table started talking to me. They asked me where I was from; of course I told them the USA. They asked me my opinion of Bush and I indicated with a hand-motion so-so; they immediately put their thumbs down. They asked me if Barack Obama was Muslim; I told them that he isn't but his father was a Muslim from Kenya; they hadn't known that. They asked me if I was Christian and I said yes; so I asked them if they were Muslim and they said yes; I told them that I love everybody as long as they're nice to me, they gave me a thumbs up. As it turned out, one was a legal advisor and the other was a lawyer. I asked them what they were eating, they told me it was "kofta" and asked if I would like to have one, I said sure; at the end, despite my attempt to pay for it, they insisted that they treat me to the kofta. It was really nice of them, and it was the type of direct personal interaction between people of different countries and cultures that I so enjoy.

Well, that's about all for now. I will fill in more details and clean up my writing on these posts once I get home. So please bear with me for now. Just know that I am thinking about all of you, yes you! And so you can be sure that a part of you is with me here in northeastern Africa.

Finally I'll say that contrary to what you may think the weather here has been relatively cool. This morning when we came into Cairo on the bus I was wearing a t-shirt, a long-sleeve button-down shirt, and a sweater, and I still felt a bit cool. Throughout the rest of the day, although I rolled up the sleeves, I continued to wear the long-sleeve shirt.

Anyway, a part of me is beginning to miss home now. But I know that I have two more days here in Egypt, then three more days in Europe to let it all out before returning to the grind. Feel free to leave a comment or to send me an email, as I am checking every day and would very much love to get a little transatlantic love from my homies. Peace out, y'all! Keep feeling alive in the 2-1-5!

Sahara

Sahara means desert in Arabic, so to say Sahara Desert is redundant. It's late morning on Tuesday right now, and this will be my last day in Siwa before moving on; more on this later.

Yesterday we spent the whole day out in the Sahara. For 100 Egyptian pounds (about US$20), we joined a tour out to the desert. Our ride was a 4-wheel drive GMC Scottsdale, probably early 1980s model; our company was an English man, his Greek wife, and their one and a half year old son named Rowan, along with our Norwegian friend Sven, and our driver named Hassan.

After a half-hour ride out, our first stop was at the top of a pretty tall sand dune. This was the group's first opportunity to take photos of the arid expanse, and Roland's and my first opportunity to break out the sandboard. Roland waxed it up for me and then I shimmied my barefeet into the cloth straps, while I told the group watching me to prepare for a royal wipe-out, which did in fact happen after I surfed down the dune for a pretty good distance. Roland and I took turns and even had Sven give it a try too. It was a lot of fun.

Our next stop, after our driver entertained us by driving very fast up and down the sand dunes, was a very small oasis tucked away in a topographical depression. There was a small round pool there lined with a short stone wall, the diameter must not have been more than about 6 meters at most. After breaking down to my swimsuit, I dipped into the pool and discovered that this was a hot spring, a very hot spring in fact. It took a few minutes to acclimate to the temperature, but once achieved, the effect was absolutely relaxing. We stayed there for over an hour, just taking it easy at this unlikely refuge in the middle of the Sahara.

And this was something not lost upon me throughout the afternoon: that I was spending the day in the middle of the world's largest desert, and not very far from the Libyan border. I couldn't help thinking what everyone back stateside was doing at that very instant. I thanked God for the opportunity to be here and to be blessed with such special experiences.

We continued on not too far to a lake that we had been able to see from the little oasis. Surrounding the deep blue lake was a lot of plants very similar to those up in the Meadowlands of northern New Jersey ("let me just make this statement loud and clear, Jersey's here!"). While all the other tourists, including those from two other trucks were milling around, staring at the lake, Roland and I had broken down to our swimsuits; on the count of 3 we ran full-sprint toward the lake and dove in boldly. I kid you not when I say that the water was very cold, as implausible as it may seem being in the middle of the desert; perhaps it was the depth of the lake as well as the fact that it is still only spring, not yet summer, even here in Egypt.

The other highlights from the rest of the afternoon were visiting a field of seashells, testament to the fact that much of this land used to be underwater in prehistoric times; the driver taking us over steep sand dunes so that we felt like the car was going to tip over headlong into the sand; and a final stop atop a sand dune to watch the sun set gently into the desert.

Returning to town, not having eaten anything since around 11am -- when, after taking off our shoes to enter the restaurant, we ate bread dipped into a squash-type soup and drank hot mint tea while sitting on the floor -- we looked forward to a solid dinner. We went to the East-West restaurant, where I ate couscous with chicken and tahina with pita bread. After this I was so tired from the long day that I went to the roof of our hotel to chill out while listening to music, and then went to bed early around 10pm.

I woke up today around 7am, returned by myself to the roof to enjoy the cool morning air while I finished reading my book. Roland and I went back to East-West, where I ate falafel tamia for breakfast. I took a nice long warm shower, and now I am here.

Tonight we will try to catch a 10pm bus for Alexandria, which will take around 7 hours. From there we will then go back to Cairo. As far as today I hope to visit the Oracle and then watch the sun set at Fatnas island.

Thanks again for keeping up with my travels, and believe me when I say that you are here with me. Salaam aleikum!

Oasis = Water + Life

Today we swam in the Kleopatra spring, located within the Siwa Oasis. Although the air was a bit cool due to a steady wind coming out of the desert, the water of the spring was warm and refreshing. We dove in from the ledge of the stone wall surrounding the spring.

In order to arrive here, we caught a bus at 7:30am in Marsa Matruh, and rode 4 hours through the desert. For miles and miles, there is nothing but rocky desert on either side of the road. If it were not for the road, the surface of the earth to the horizon in any direction appears as the surface of Mars. The only break came halfway through the trip at a small cement structure, which housed a kitchen and some plastic tables. There I ate two soft breadsticks filled with some kind of red sauce.

Siwa is an interesting place. It is literally an oasis in the middle of the Sahara desert. Roland and I climbed a tall rock structure this afternoon, easily one of the tallest in all the oasis, from which we gained an amazing vista of the surrounding area. In one direction we could see the salt lake. Below us was the small town of Siwa, its central plaza and the streets radiating outward. All the buildings appear to be made out of mortar and limestone, to a great extent they resemble the adobe buildings of the American southwest. Surrounding the human settlements are hundreds and hundreds of palm trees. But then not too far out in the distance, one can clearly see the desert; all of a sudden the palm trees end and there is only sand and rocks stretching off towards the horizon. The sight is really amazing.

After checking into the Yousef Hotel right in the center of town, we decided that the best way to quickly explore the town and find the spring would be to rent bicycles. We did so and then did our best to avoid the young boys driving donkey-pulled, two-wheeled carts around town. The main streets in the middle of town are paved, but one doesn't have to go far until they turn into packed sand. Everywhere we rode (or later walked), little children would wave at us and say "hello!", it was truly wonderful. Some of the friendly adults would say "welcome to Egypt." The feeling here in Siwa has been so amazingly warm and welcoming.

Because we were simply riding our bikes with only the goal of eventually reaching a spring, we unintentionally took the long way to our destination, thereby traveling through some of the very poor outlying areas of town. But even in those areas the children were genuinely happy to see us and any time we asked adults for directions they were quite willing and ready to help point us in the right direction.

So we finally got to the Kleopatra spring, where there was a very chill juice bar and treehouse built around the large palm trees already growing there. The owner was a cool Egyptian guy who spoke English very well and loved using the word "wicked" to come off as being really hip to the game. There were also a handful of other tourists there, including a family from the south of Germany, a couple young guys from Hamburg, and later we had a reunion with Sven, a Norwegian backpacker whom we had met on the bus from Matruh to Siwa.

While Roland was speaking German with the guys from his country, I went up to the treehouse, which was really the roof of the juice bar, covered above with dried palm leaves to provide shade from the sun, and covered below with authentic Egyptian rugs on the floor, and pillows colored either turquoise, purple, or orange, lining the two-foot walls around the perimeter of the roof. I leaned back against a few of these pillows and listened to the chill music that was playing from below, some Marley, chill West African music, jazz, and other cool stuff. It was very relaxing, and it was exactly what I was looking for.

Earlier this evening, while Roland showered and then went to prayers at a local mosque, I hung out on the roof of our hotel, where we had a view of the illuminated rock dwellings of the ancient people of Siwa. The sight really cannot be described in words; to be sitting alone, listening to my music through my headphones, while sitting under a starlit sky and looking directly at illuminated ancient dwellings and the quiet expanse of the desert beyond, was absolutely mystifying. All of this in addition to the calls for and recitation of prayers over the loudspeakers of the several local mosques. After absorbing the sentiment of my existential surroundings, I finally attended to a more practical matter: my first shower in Egypt. There are few things more pleasant than a warm shower to wash away the dust, sweat, and grime of three days' travel, even if the showerhead was positioned directly over the toilet.

Tomorrow we will stay in Siwa for some more fun. We hope to go sandboarding as well as visit the Oracle here in the oasis. After this we have no plan, other than to take it one step at a time. Thanks for checking in, and I will try to write again tomorrow.

A Salaam Aleikum

I have made it to Egypt. We arrived on time at 1:25 in the morning yesterday. Flying into Cairo was interesting. The city lights were so expansive, the closest thing it reminded me of was Los Angeles. But of course a big difference was observing the bright green lights: these marked wherever there was a mosque, and there were hundreds.

Karim, Roland's friend, met us at the airport. We drove directly to an outdoor restaurant or food shop to drink assab, which is pressed sugar cane juice, it was very refreshing. We also drank a glass of mango juice. Then we went somewhere else to eat some fitir, roughly described as a pizza-like food filled with the ingredients of your choice; I ate mine with sausage.

Because our bus to the east did not leave until 6am, we spent the rest of the night driving around Cairo. We drove by President Mubarak's residence, a section of the city called Heliopolis, which was very beautiful, Nasr City, where we ate our food, and other areas too.

Later after we caught our bus and were leaving the city, and the sun had risen, I saw other areas of the city. The buildings in these other areas appeared as if they had been bombed. There were donkeys on the streets. There were already lots of cars on the streets at 7am. And although there are 20 million people in Cairo, it doesn't necessarily seem that much because everything is spread out. Nevertheless, I only saw this at 7am.

As the bus left the edge of the city, we passed right by the pyramids. It was amazing to see of course. But it was also amazing to realize that they are located right on the edge of the city.

Then came miles and miles and miles of nothing but desert on either side of the highway. The driver was going very fast and weaving from side to side, so it made it nearly impossible to sleep, as much as I desperately needed to sleep.

We arrived in Marsa Matruh at 1:30pm. We checked into a hotel for about $4 per night for both, so about $2 per night per person, and that was about right. Here I finally had a chance to use a toilet (since there are almost never any restrooms in public). I decided not to use the bidet, which nearly touched me when I sat down.

After checking in, we went out for a walk through town and to the Mediterranean coast, only about 6 or 7 blocks from our hotel. The water was a very light blue, reminiscent of the Caribbean. Unfortunately, the air temperature was cool, due to the wind coming off the sea, and the water was too cool as well. So we just walked on to a pier, laid down and slept for a little while. I was awakened later by the calls to prayer from the mosque right on the sea, and by a group of young boys who approached us to say "welcome" and "hello."

We are trying to decide what to do tomorrow. We may take the 5 hour bus ride to Siwa, in the south, to go sandboarding and camping in the desert. But it all depends on it not being too cold at nighttime. If not, then we may head back east to either Alexandria or back to Cairo. We shall see....

Gutentag!

Traveling somewhere without knowing the language can be frustrating. But it can also be quite comical.

This morning, after getting out of bed and getting dressed, I went downstairs to see who was around and to see if I could have a bite to eat for breakfast. I went into the kitchen to clean out the glass that I had used last night. I noticed that there was a pot of coffee brewing. After a minute, a man who I had not yet met came into the kitchen. Later I found out that he is the father of Roland's younger brother. What I did find out right away was that his English was only slightly better than my German. And so began a morning filled with lots of hand gestures, pointing, thumbs-up's, and awkward chuckling at misperceived and misunderstood jokes.

Since Roland is working until mid-afternoon, I'll have some time to go exploring. In a short while, I'll take a walk down the street to downtown Essen. So I can expect some more language-based comedy. After breakfast, though, I asked Michael (Roland's younger brother's father) if there was a German-English dictionary around the house; we found one, which I'll certainly be carrying with me on my walk soon.

So I'm feeling refreshed now. I was in bed and asleep by 10pm last night (I couldn't help thinking that it was 4pm back in tha Illadelph at that time). I woke up this morning probably somewhere around 7am, and eventually got out of bed at 8am. I'm hoping that this was enough to re-wire my Circadian rhythm and ward-off any further effects of jet lag. Based on all expectations, the trip to and throughout Egypt will require a good deal of endurance; a solid rest is the foundation for all of what is to come.

Roland and I leave Essen for the Cologne airport later this afternoon, probably around 3 or 4pm. Our flight for Cairo departs at 8:10pm and we'll arrive in Cairo at 1:25am. As I mentioned in my last post, we'll take the first bus out of the city en route to Marsa Matruh, a seaport on the Mediterranean. As such, my next post will very likely be written from Egypt.

Y para terminar este cuentecito, les envio a mis primos y a mis amigos en Costa Rica un gran saludo muy tico: PURA VIDA, MAE!!! Ustedes estan conmigo como siempre, les llevo una parte de ustedes en mi corazon con cada pasito pa'delante!

Willkommen in Deutschland

Five world cities in one day: Philadelphia, New York, Munich, Cologne, and Essen. It's now 7:30pm local time and I'm sitting in my friend Roland's house in Essen.

A couple interesting observations to confirm my arrival in Germany. First, while sitting at the gate in Munich airport, reading my book while awaiting my connecting flight to Cologne, I looked up casually to see a woman sitting across from me reading a newspaper. What struck my attention was the photo of a naked blonde woman right there on the front page of the newspaper. That's about the time I decided that German women are nice-looking.

The second observation to confirm my arrival in Germany came shortly afterward, when I was actually on that flight from Munich to Cologne. As the plane took-off from the runway and began its ascent, I looked out from my window seat toward the airport below. In the distance I noticed a long range of snow-capped mountains: the German Alps.

After landing in Cologne and picking-up my backpack from baggage claim, I walked out the door to exit the airport; I saw a girl standing there, so I approached her and asked if she was Roland's friend Tania. Fortunately for me she said yes. And so began my day in Cologne and my first lessons in basic, elementary German. It wasn't a problem, though, because Tania spoke English pretty well. We caught a train to Cologne central station.

As soon as one walks out of the train station, one is standing face-to-face with Cologne Cathedral (Dom). From what Tania told me, it is the highest cathedral in Germany if not in all of Europe. So of course we climbed to the very top; Tania did this, impressively, with high heels. [later I will upload photos of our climb].

As the afternoon wore on, my jet lag began to kick-in pretty hardcore. Although I closed my eyes and even slept a bit on the flight from JFK, there was no escaping the fact that I was walking the streets of Cologne at around the time I should have been just getting out of bed back at the double-deuce and Spruce. Later in the day we went to this great little coffeehouse called Starbucks so that I could try to get a caffeine boost; it didn't really work.

At 3:50 in the afternoon, Tania sent me off on the hour-long train ride from Cologne central station to Essen so that I could finally meet-up with my friend Roland. Although I knew I was risking appearing as an arrogant tourist, once I boarded the train I immediately stretched out, put my feet up on the seat before me, and quickly fell asleep. The alarm clock on my old-school digital Casio wristwatch woke me up in time to get off at the Essen train station.

And now, for the rest of the evening, I've been catching up with Roland and discussing our plans for the coming days. As soon as we reach Cairo we'll catch the first bus out of town en route to a small town near the Egyptian-Libyan border, close to the Mediterranean coast; this will be a 15-hour journey and Roland warns me that it will be very uncomfortable. From there, we'll then travel south to Siwa, an oasis in the middle of nowhere, also known as the Sahara desert; that's where we'll be camping.

Needless to say, some incredible experiences await me. I look forward to seeing the millions of stars under the clear desert sky. It will be good to feel so alive.

The Journey is about to begin

Or shall I say that my journey is simply continuing?

As I prepare to leave, two quotes are borne in mind:

"It is a good thing to experience everything oneself . . . As a child I learned that pleasures of the world and riches were not good. I have known it for a long time, but I have only just experienced it. Now I know it not only with my intellect, but with my eyes, my heart, with my stomach. It is a good thing that I know this." -- from Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse

"Para mi solo recorrer los caminos que tienen corazon, cualquier camino que tenga corazon. Por ahi yo recorro, y la unica prueba que vale es atravesar todo su largo. Y por ahi yo recorro mirando, mirando, sin aliento." -- from The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge by Carlos Castaneda

I would write more now, but time does not allow it. Besides, my heart and my soul are filled with so many emotions at this moment that they defy any hurried attempt to translate those feelings into words.

I will be completely alone for the next day, yet surrounded by so many people moving in so many different directions. Lost in my own thoughts, each one of you will be with me. Thanks for checking in, and I'll write again soon!

Blood in South Philly

Let me set the scene: It's around 6:30 p.m. earlier this evening, I'm riding the 7, and I'm sitting on the right side of the bus in the row immediately in front of the rear exit. I'm on my way to PetSmart to pick-up some cat food and cat litter for Rocky and the Baby.

We've just passed through the Point Breeze section of the city when a woman boards with her young son. The little boy, probably 3 years old, boards the bus and heads down the aisle at an all-out sprint. As his mom pays the fare, the bus starts moving forward, and the boy, already running full-tilt, runs headlong and falls face-first into the step that leads to the back, upper section of the bus. As his mom comes up the aisle, the boy starts crying, then the mother picks him up and realizes that he's bleeding heavily from his nose and his mouth. The mother begins freaking out, yelling out loud that someone call 911.

The bus driver soon pulls up and stops at the corner of 23rd and Passyunk. All the passengers are just staring at the woman and her young son. I'm sitting right across the aisle from them, feeling helpless, and thinking I'm no damn doctor, I wish I could do something to help them. Finally, a teenage girl gets up and calls 911.

After about five minutes, the cops and some medics show up on the scene. All the while, the woman is yelling at her son to open his eyes and not to fall asleep, and he continues to bleed profusely from his nose and from his mouth, crying out loud. It's a really messed up situation. Once there, the medics come onto the bus, check out the boy, then put him in a neck brace and onto a stretcher, the kid is really freaking out, and the mother is clearly no comfort to the boy as she is out of control too.

The mom, once she talked to one of the cops, wanted to blame the bus driver for pulling forward too quickly. And I guess that would be her impression since she didn't even see her son running full-speed toward the back of the bus. Her attitude seemed representative of an inner-city attitude that is quick to point fingers at someone else, while failing to realize that she even had any responsibility to begin with, on top of the fact that she had no capability to step up to the plate as a mother should do when her son truly needs her to do so. By no means am I intending to apply my generalization to every young, inner-city mother or resident, but based on my personal observation and experience, this finger-pointing attitude seems endemic to the city's culture. The truth is that the bus driver did nothing wrong, the kid simply had an accident, if anyone was to blame, it's the mother for allowing her 3-year old son to run onto a public bus at a full-out sprint. I'm aware that it's easy to judge, and who knows how I would act and react in that type of situation, so my thoughts should obviously be taken with a grain of salt.

But ultimately, my final thought is one of fruitless regret: if I had just reached my arm out into the aisle, I could have easily caught the kid before he fell nose-first into the step at the back of the bus. As they say, hindsight is 20/20, but even still, I can't help thinking that if I had done so, there's a real chance that I would've been yelled at for interfering with someone else's child. And so it went: blood in South Philly.

Redemption at the Palestra

Earlier this evening I went with a friend to the Temple - St. Joseph's men's college basketball game at the Palestra in University City. And what a great game it was!

But to put this game into context, we have to recall the previous Temple - St. Joe's meeting, in which St. Joe's won by one point at the last second, when Temple's Mark Tyndale missed a lay-up as the final buzzer sounded.

So tonight's rematch promised to be entertaining. But for most of the game, it didn't really seem like it would be. St. Joe's clearly appeared to be the quicker team, in addition to their bigger line-up as compared to Temple's. These advantages led, at one point, to a 16-point lead for the Hawks, and things were beginning to seem bleak for the Temple Owls.

But with about 5 or 6 minutes left in the game, the Owls began a slow, almost unremarkable comeback, gradually chipping away at the lead, while tightening up their defense. Eventually one began to realize that Temple was really fighting as if their backs were up against the wall. The wake-up call really sounded when Tyndale took the ball the length of the court, avoiding Hawk defenders along the way, en route to a dunk right in front of the Temple student section; the crowd went wild and that was the exclamation mark that announced that this game was gonna come down to the wire just like the previous meeting between the two clubs.

The last possession of the game was classic. Temple was up 57 to St. Joe's 56, and St. Joe's had the ball for the final 20 seconds of the game. In the season's earlier contest, St. Joe's best player hit a 3-pointer near the end of the game to seal it for the Hawks. So the question tonight was whether history was gonna repeat itself or whether the Owls could stage a game-winning defensive stand. Fortunately for this Temple fan, it was the latter. The Owls stifled the Hawks' last three consecutive shot attempts, and pulled out the dramatic victory.

And so went Temple's sweet redemption of their earlier loss to St. Joe's. And with that, Temple now claims second place in the Atlantic-10 Conference. Nice!

Word up to Temple starting point guard Luis Guzman for hooking us up with comp tickets.

Tower of Babel

If you're reading this, then I'm guessing you speak English. If you don't, then please apprise me of your self-assessed echelon of comprehension on a decile scale, with high digits denoting -- or shall I say correlating with -- a higher level of cognizance. Muchisimas gracias!

When ya come to think of it, it's really funny how there are so many languages. And when I say "funny" I don't mean ironic, I mean hilarious. I mean, really, everyone else talks so weird, don't they! It just sounds like a bunch of gobbledy-gooky jabberwocky. Why can't the whole world speak English, and eat hamburgers, and drive SUVs, and think their culture is the best thing ever? Well, I don't know; maybe they'll reveal the answer to that question on the series finale of Lost; I sure hope so.

So I guess you noticed that it's been a lil' over four months since my last post. You must be asking yourself, where's that guy been, man I really missed him. Well, we're forward-looking here at Philly 215, so just like Don Henley ("a little voice inside my head said don't look back, you can never look back") let's never mind the past. It's all water under the bridge. And speaking of water and bridges, there will be some exciting posts to come very soon. Be sure to check back frequently and often and a lot.

For everyone who couldn't read this post, avisame pa' los proximos cuentos, por fa'. Until tomorrow, peace out y'all!