Bats, haircuts, me looking 19, no smoking Jesus, cowboys, and Mr. Rodgers with a hunch.

In preparation for The Dark Knight, I decided to enter into the bat cave... Ok, maybe it was just coincidence but here are a few random pictures that I found amusing. When we were in Jordan (more coming on that later), I went in some rooms underneath the ruins of a temple. As soon as I opened the weathered wooden door I could hear what sounded like a high pitched choir of rats. I soon realized that it was bats, a lot of bats. It was creepy. We explored all the rooms in the dark with our little flying rodent friends serenading us with a steady, shrieking symphony. I took a quick picture of the ceiling to see how many bats I could get in the picture and this is what I got.



I figure that there are a few things that one must do when in a foreign country to really get a feel for the culture. Getting a haircut is one of them. It reflects their culture and the attitudes of the people. For example, a haircut in Brazil is an hour long ordeal. There is no separate waiting room. People all sit together, share stories, some joyful and others sad, while waiting for their turn to climb into the old, well-worn chair. A barber won't get a new chair if the old one still works. The barber then takes his time cutting your hair, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he is being meticulous and careful. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn't. But nobody is stressed about it. The Middle East is a little different. I went in and the barber flipped on the light switch. There were two other men smoking in the corner. Everyone smokes in Jordan by the way!! We worked out a deal and I agreed to pay 10 Dinars for the cut. Then I explained what I wanted done and he went to work. No pleasantries were exchanged. In fact, we didn't talk the entire time he was cutting my hair. He worked fast and mechanically. About halfway through the cut, he said something in Arabic to his buddies in the corner. One responded and that led to a loud, angry sounding exchange. Luckily he calmed down enough to finish my haircut. After he trimmed my neck and sideburns, he pulled out an electric razer and stuck it up my nose to trim my nose hairs and then did the same with my ears. When he first stuck it up my nose my inner self doubt chimed in with a "Oh no, I have really long nose hairs and this man couldn't stand to look at them anymore and shaved them for me. Why have I never noticed this before?" Then I realized that he did it to everyone and then I was a little grossed when I thought about how many noses that had been in.

Here is a picture of me in a grotto where Jesus was born in Bethlehem. I think its funny because I look like I'm nineteen again with my mission haircut.



When we were in Ammam, Jordan we attended a district meeting at a church house. Like I said before, everyone smokes in Jordan. I don't know if the members have a particular problem or if it is the visitors. This is a picture I took right outside the chapel. I call it no smoking Jesus.



There are so many things to buy for dirt cheap. I found a straw cowboy hat in Jordan that I liked. It cost 3 bucks. Here I am showing it off on a hill outside of Bethlehem.



Now the crowning jewel. Here is a great picture of Mr. Rodgers with a hunch. Oh wait, nevermind, that's my religion teacher. He might not be much to look at, but he is an amazing teacher. He gave us a great lecture on the nativity story while we were overlooking Bethlehem. It all came to life when I could actually see where it happened.