Dead Sea, Dead Stingy

Hi readers. Today I have ticked off my list yet another world attraction that everybody (except me) wants to see. Reading the title, I rather hope everyone knows this is about the Dead Sea. ‘Cause it is. I didn’t actually want to go, thinking that it was less salty (and therefore less buoyant) than the salt lake in Siwa. It wasn’t.

I have to warn you, the water in the Dead Sea is very rich in minerals, some of which sting. A lot. It also feels very oily. You see, the Dead Sea is not seawater. It’s a mix of water, salt, magnesium, sulphur and other crap. Because of this stinging mix, many beaches have showers. Ours (free, not like the crappy Ein Gedi Spa) had springs.

To be honest with you, I spent about ten minutes (maximum) in the Dead Sea –and even then I was mainly lobbing the mud at mum. Oh yes, the mud. The blackish stuff is used as a beauty product in the spas, thanks to the aforementioned minerals. I am in Palestine, BTW. Somehow we got across the border with Lebanese stamps in our passports.

The Israeli border, that is. Israel has controlled Palestine since 1948, when the two countries went to war. The Palestinians refer to the invasion as “The Catastrophe” and think of it as their own Holocaust. Frankly, I think that’s pathetic and self-centered. After all, they started it, they fully intended to massacre everyone, and it’s not as if any pogroms were carried out.

Make up your own mind. One last thing: if you should see a road sign pointing to the “Lowest Place on Earth, don’t go. It’s a sham set up by the aforementioned crappy spa. They’ll charge you 10 Shekels to go to what they tell you is just a sign. It’s not even a sign. It’s a boring, dirty beach full of people. Again, though, make up your own mind.

Bai!

The Last Straw

Hi readers. Today’s post, rather pathetically, shall be a rant about my newfound computer ban. Now it all started the day before last. It was a normal-ish evening, but for the fact that we had people coming over in a while. Sun setting? Tick. Snacks, booze and tonic water? Tick.

All good. Where do we have our party aperitifs? The arisha (Bedouin tent). Mum goes off. I survey the arisha. Untouched for ages. In other words, it’s fallen apart. O-kayyy, I think to myself, let’s do the veranda. What does that need done to it?

Well, there are 2 bench-like seats on the veranda, so those can hold four people and as for the kids… well, I expect we’ll be playing anyway.  Then I retire into my bedroom to play (over Skype) with one of me mates. A good while later, mum bursts into my room and starts screaming at me.

It’s along the lines of “WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN!?” and “I HAVE BEEN STANDING OUT THERE FOR FUCKING AGES!” Notice the common occurrence of the word “fuck”. That ought to tell you all you need to know about her mood.

Turns out that she’d been there for about 40 minutes and I hadn’t noticed. I know how it sounds, but we have a gate and high walls and you couldn’t hear anything from my room (very far back). It’s happened to me and mum barely heard.

The party went well, BTW. The events after? Not so much. I had my computer on. I sent a message to another of me mates, whom I hadn’t managed to contact for days due to his being on Do Not Disturb. He answered me and I told him to get off DND.

Then we started talking. Unfortunately at that moment mum came in and terminated our conversation by putting me on a computer ban (1 hour a day sounds like a lot but think of it as time I spend playing with friends. I would have more time in school).

As always, she started lecturing me. As always, I tried to sit through them. As always, they hurt my feelings and I ended up in bed with the lights off, being angry with myself and crying and being angry with myself for crying (not much hyperbole going  on, unfortunately).

And as always, I was fine (with myself, the ban I still loathe) the next morning.