In Jordan - Reaching Amman and Tasting Nirvana

I arrived in Amman, Jordan, on Saturday, November 14, after taking a red-eye flight from Casablanca on Egypt Air. Without even planning it, I and three other Peace Corps volunteers were on the same flight out of Casablanca. They were starting their Middle East trek from Cairo; I had a quick layover before heading to Amman. Before our flight, we scoured all the money exchange bureaus at the Mohammed V Casablanca Airport and none had Jordanian Dinars or Egyptian Pounds to exchange. Knowing that I was going to come back to Morocco after my Middle Eastern trek, I kept my funds and hoped that the 25 Euros that I had kept stashed from my last trip to Europe would be enough to get through customs and to get to the nearest ATM.

I blogged earlier about my arrival to the Holy Land and the great experience I had with Egypt Air. I was fortunate to get a window seat, which allowed me to take in the scenery during the descent and ascent into and from Cairo. I'm 30 years old and I still feel like the 10 year old boy who was completely awestruck by his first flight out of Venezuela and how different things looked at 40,000 feet.

Like the experience I wrote about earlier about the mountains and plateaus making me feel insignificant or being humbled by the sheer breadth and size of nature's wonders, I feel the same when staring out from my tiny window in the sky. Ironically for me, every flight is a grounding experience. It just makes me realize how inconsequential my problems are in the scope of such vast amounts of space and over the course of time. What I begin to understand is that many of these landscapes are indifferent. Men and women have come and gone and yet they are still here changing and adapting to the elements. On my way in to Jordan, I saw various shades of sand, the blue of the Nile and the Red Sea, the Sinai Peninsula's mountainous wilderness, many dunes, plateaus, rocky hills dotted with olive trees, and a few lush valleys and oases.

The flight from Cairo to Amman was about 40 minutes. Counting our ascent and descent, we probably had about 20 minutes of coasting, and in that brief lull the flight crew scrambled to give everyone their complementary drink. It was a nice surprise to be able to walk directly onto the terminal rather than taking a shuttle or walking to it like you often do when travelling outside of Europe or the U.S. The causeway takes you straight to customs where an Arab Bank money exchange branch is at the center of the hall ready to exchange almost any currency to Jordanian Dinars. I found it interesting that a money exchange branch would be situated in the middle of the customs hall, but I guess a lot of countries do not carry Jordanian Dinars, Morocco being one of them. I exchanged my 25 Euros and got 22 Jordanian Dinars(JD). I knew coming in that the Jordanian Dinar was an expensive currency, but all the blogs I read said that most things are nowhere near U.S. or European prices. So it's little startling at first to get less money for your dollar or euro, but once you get out, you realize that a JD can be stretched out pretty far.

It was 10JD to get the visa. Some of the blogs I had browsed through before coming said that the visitor's visa was for two weeks so I was surprised to hear that the visas were now good for an entire month, which makes a lot of sense. You could traverse the country in two weeks. It's not very big and transportation to the main touristy sites is readily available, but for those who wish to take their time to meet people, taste the cuisine, and ponder the meaning of life in nature as I do, two weeks goes by in a flash.

Once I passed through customs, I went down to pick up my luggage. At the luggage carousels, I found some stands with maps and guides in various languages to the main sites in Jordan. It was a great find since all I had to go by on this trip was a Lonely Planet guide titled Middle East on a Shoestring Budget published in 1997. I was planning to travel on a shoestring budget, but after sleeping in one of the hotels this guide recommended, I decided to upgrade myself from shoestring to respectably clean. I stayed at one hotel called Jerusalem Hotel in Aqaba, and it literally was the nastiest place I've ever stayed at with roaches crawling around and the grimiest bed sheets I had ever seen, but the guide was spot on with the price. It was the cheapest of all the "budget" options. After one night in that hole, I moved next door and paid 5JD more for a bigger room, hot water, and peace of mind.

The Amman Queen Alia International Airport is about the size of your regional airport in the U.S. Once you get past customs, you walk out into the arrivals waiting hall, which has a number of snack shops, car rental stands, banks and ATMs, and a couple of cell phone boutiques. If you plan to spend some time in Jordan, I strongly encourage purchasing a SIM card from one of the boutiques. They run anywhere from 4-6JD from Orange, Zain, Umniah, and others, and the purchase generally includes 1 to 2JD of credit, which is more than enough to make initial arrangements with friends and hotels. Also, right outside the airport there's a bus shuttle company called Airport Express that travels back and forth from the airport to Amman. They have a stand at the airport and an attendant is outside asking any confused-looking tourist if they're going to Amman. It cost me 3JD and it dropped me off at the North Station also known as either Abdali Station or in Levantine Arabic as Moujemma Shamal. As the bus begins to park, taxi drivers converge near the bus's drop as they prepare to pounce on the fresh-off the plane tourists. I told one gentleman my destination and he offered to take me for 12JD. I told the guy in all honesty that I did not have 12JD and immediately he lowered the price to 7JD. I told him to lower it some more so he lowered it to 5JD and said in English, "Final price."

The guy took me through a touristy route, which allowed me to see the Roman fortress and auditorium. A ride through Amman is much like your typical roller coaster ride. The taxi drivers go just as fast as they wind up and down the many hills and valleys of the city. My first impression of Amman was not a memorable one. I thought the city lacked color, but then later I heard that it's by city mandate that the buildings use the local white and beige stone for the exterior. I don't know how legit that statement is, but it certainly seems like most people are adhering to it. The only contrast to the vanilla cream buildings are a few skyscrapers in the new city.

Upon arriving at the hotel, I asked the hotel receptionist about how much it costs to get from the North Station to the hotel to which he said, "Oh about 1.5JD to 2JD." I was hosed, but fortunately it was only for 3 or so dinares. Oh well, it was a lesson learned. From there on, I didn't hop on a taxi unless they had their meter running.

I checked into the Farah Hotel, which I had made a reservation on www.HostelWorld.com. I paid 5JD for a shared accommodation for one night. The rooms were clean, the bed was soft and sturdy, and the bathrooms were well-tended too. The lobby was also nice with plush couches, a TV and DVD player, a couple of large dining tables, and a couple of shelves full of board games, books, and bootleg movies.

When I checked in, I saw a guy chilling out on one of the couches. After I dropped my stuff in my room, I asked him about his travel plans. He told me smilingly that he lived in Jordan. Immediately I asked him if he was a Peace Corps Volunteer and he said yes. I told him that I had just finished service a couple of days ago.  He then asked me if I was Jonathan and I said yes, and then I followed asking him if he was Torin and he said yes. We had exchanged a few emails prior to arriving. He had said that he was likely going to be busy touring with some friends. It so happened that he was at Farah waiting for his friends to arrive from Palestine. I was exhausted from the red-eye flight, but I had a lot of questions about travel options and sites and then we spoke for a while about his Peace Corps experience and he gave me his lowdown on Jordan. I also shared a bit of my Peace Corps Morocco experience and gave him my lowdown on travel, food, and culture. I was fortunate to have found him and to have had this exchange on the first day of my trip.

We decided to meet up later on in the evening. I ran into him at a small fast food joint and joined him for a shawarma. The shawarma was not that great, but it was dirt cheap at 1.50JD for the plate. I was more impressed by the size of the meat spikes rotating in the fire. These spikes were probably about a meter and a half long and about half a meter wide. Some of the guys tending to it had to climb a small step ladder to shave off the meat at the top.  Some used a long knife to cut the meat and others used what looked like industrial size hair clippers. 

After the shawarma, we walked over to Habiba, a confectionery shop preparing Jordan's famous kenafa. This delicious sweet treat should rank pretty high in terms of the world's greatest inventions. The scrumptious treat has a mozzarella cheese base, a thin crunchy cake layer or stringy top that is doused in a honey or sugar-based syrup, and topped off with pistachios, cinnamon, and nutmeg on top. Every bite was like reaching taste-bud nirvana.

After Habiba's kenafa, we moved on to a cafe right on the main strip of King Hussein St. called Eco-Tourism Cafe. It was a scruffy looking place. About the only thing “eco” about it were the plants that the owner had throughout the cafe. There I got my first taste of Jordanian coffee. It was a contrast to Morocco's fancy coffee presses that squeeze out the coffee from the coffee grounds. In Jordan, you get the coffee and the grounds. Moroccan coffee also seems lighter in comparison to the almost syrupy makeup of Jordanian coffee, but as far as sugar is concerned, they're neck and neck. The coffee's bitterness is offset quite well by the generous amounts of sugar in each cup.

It was a nice first night in Amman. The following day I was to head out to Irbid with Torin to meet a couple of other volunteers. Upon arrival I had heard that L3id Kabir would most certainly fall on Tuesday, November 16. When I was drawing up my initial plans, I was hoping to avoid another sheep slaughtering, but it looked like I would be witness to yet another. I felt bad for the sheep, but at the same time I was thinking that I wouldn't object to some slow-cooked or grilled sheep meat. I was looking forward to meeting up with more volunteers and was even more excited about the opportunity to experience village life with one of them.

It had only been two days since I had checked/stamped out of Peace Corps. You would think that I would be running towards the comforts of Western amenities, but here I was wanting to experience village life in Jordan, and here I was in the hands of volunteers that were making it possible for me to do so. I felt blessed and fortunate to be part of this select group of people who have invested so much time and energy to get to know the people around them and their surroundings and who are so willing to share the little bit they know with me.

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Some Travel Details

Farah Hotel

Amman Al-Hussein Cinema St.

Behind Arab Bank

Downtown

+962-6-465-1443

Email: farahhotel@hotmail.com

www.farahhotel.com.jo 

One of the best state-run tourism websites that I've seen to date:

http://www.visitjordan.com/

Hinajen Elementary Belated Back to School Project

Hinajen kids with their new jerseys

Early in service I visited a small primary school about 5 kilometers from Sefrou.  The teachers and I had a little pow-wow, and they spoke to me about some of the challenges they faced in teaching the kids.  They mentioned one problem that is all too common in many rural schools: the lack of plumbing or restroom facilities.  For many boys, it's no big deal to irrigate the nearest tree, but for girls it's a whole 'nother issue.  The really young ones don't mind squatting out in the bush, but once they reach 4-5th grade, they as well as their parents feel that doing so is no longer appropriate.  They also said that they lacked school supplies and sports equipment.  I wrote down their information and said I would look into funding opportunities for building restroom facilities or basic latrines, but also told them that the community would need to contribute at least 20-30 percent of the grant amount.  I also told them that they would need to identify an association that I could send the funds to.  After that visit, I heard very little from the teachers.

I still remembered the kids and I relayed some of the information to my friends and family.  I told them to wait until the teachers identified an association, but unfortunately they never did.  The teachers were in agreement in terms of what they wanted, but not in how they wanted to carry out the projects.  I still remembered the kids and I still wanted to do something for them even if it was just helping out with school supplies.

Over the next year or so, I kept an eye for things that the school could use.  Luckily, Peace Corps Morocco got a donation of sport jerseys from the U.S. that our Youth Development(YD) Volunteers began to distribute at various language and summer camps.  I emailed the YD Program Manager about my little Hinajen Elementary School project, gave him the approximate number of students, and shortly thereafter, he sent a box full of jerseys.  Then, as my sitemate was in the process of getting rid of all his worldly possessions before returning to the U.S., he offered to give me an unused soccer ball and a basketball that was in pretty decent shape.  A few months later, Peace Corps sent out a notice to volunteers that they had received a donation of reams of printer grade color paper.  I petitioned for a few boxes and during one of my program manager visits, they dropped off about 10 reams and several rolls of butcher paper.  Then finally, last summer a group of young kids from a gap-year program called Where There Be Dragons led by couple of Morocco RPCVs stopped by Sefrou to take part of a number of cultural exchange activities.  Towards the end of their visit, they learned about the Islamic tradition of zakat or almsgiving.  They decided to take a portion of their travel funds and to donate it to a worthy cause.  The volunteers contacted me about their donation and I told them that I would be able to find something to put their money to good use.  In total, the group collected about 1,200DH or roughly $160.  It was a nice chunk of change.

I spoke to one of the teachers about the donation and he immediately drew up a list of items.  We then set up a tentative date for some sort of back-to-school event.  We bought a whole bunch of rulers, markers, scissors, notebooks, pencils, pens, etc.  We then applied some of the funds towards a purchase of about 40 school uniforms.  Together with the school supplies, uniforms, and the in-kind donations from Peace Corps and my sitemate, we had a good trunk full of stuff.  I was really excited about the event and told a few volunteers in the region about it.  I was hoping to have games and a big couscous lunch for the kids.

I left it up to my school contact to arrange the transportation and was hoping that the school district would pitch in for at least that.  A number of weeks went by and I heard very little.  Then, later on, I learned that the school director said that he would need to be present at the event because they feared that I and the volunteers were perhaps going to give out some Bibles and other Christian paraphernalia along with the gifts. When I visited the school last year, there was no mention of this, but this time the schools were on alert given a recent event that received wide media attention that exposed a group of Americans who were running an orphanage in Ain Leuh and were allegedly proselytizing the kids, which is strictly prohibited under Moroccan law.  I chuckled when I heard this.

So I had to call off the event and instead scheduled a drop-off for late October.  I hired a small pickup truck.  My school contact followed me and the driver behind in his sputtering lawn-mower-propeller moped, and when we arrived at the school, we immediately began unloading all the goodies.  I made a pit stop at a small shop and bought some sweets for the kids.  We took a few shots with the school supplies and then I left.  Later on, the teacher used his digital camera to take shots of the kids with the jerseys playing a little soccer.

It was disappointing that I couldn't put on the back-to-school event; even so, I was happy that the kids got a bunch of stuff that will hopefully make their school year a little bit more enjoyable and make their recess a lot more fun.

Rural areas of Morocco are still very much in need of assistance.  If you're interested in donating, I encourage you to browse through a list of community-based projects posted on the Peace Corps Partnership Program page or look into projects being funded through the High Atlas Foundation.  Once again, thank you for reading and thank you for donating.

You Can Dream. Stories of Moroccan Women Who Do.

A fellow RPCV produced an amazing video of six remarkable Moroccan women who have overcome all sorts of odds to succeed and to share their knowledge with other women. One of the women profiled is my counterpart, Amina Yabis, President of the the Cherry Buttons Cooperative. Her story and that of all the other women are truly inspiring. They exemplify grassroots development at its very core. Please share with friends and family and spread the word that women's empowerment, as Amartya Sen would likely say, is one of the many if not the most effective tool for alleviating poverty for women and their children, reducing infant mortality, reducing the number of births, improving the health of women and their children, and creating more accountable and representative governments around the world.


You Can Dream. Stories of Moroccan Women Who Do from cortney healy on Vimeo.

For more stories on Women in the Muslim World, please visit: http://womensvoicesnow.org/

Arriving in the Holy Land

pilI arrived in Jordan around 10AM local time on Sunday, November 14, exhausted from a red-eye flight from Casablanca-Cairo-Amman.  It's been a while since I flew into the future.  Last time I did that was exactly 27 months ago when I swallowed the red pill and began my Peace Corps journey through the land of the far west.  Having experienced the mix of cultures and traditions and seen first hand the practice of Islam of the Maghreb, I was curious to see another part of the Arab and Islamic World and to carry out a little pilgrimage of my own; so I embarked on a journey through the Holy Land.  As I wrote in an earlier blog [In Matters of Faith: Minding My Own], I feel that it is extremely important to contextualize the Holy Scriptures.  I don't consider myself to be a religious person and it may sound strange to my friends to hear that I am going on a pilgrimage, but truth is that despite not being a pious individual, I find it amazing how the tales and stories, oral traditions, and culture of this region of the world have resonated throughout the world and to some extent are still changing the beliefs and conduct of isolated pockets of the world that are just beginning to hear about the Abrahamic faiths.

I find it interesting walking through this rocky Mediterranean landscape that people in the tropics could still relate.  The environments are so different.  As I flew into Cairo, all I saw was a vast open expanse of sand and arid hills up until one reaches the Nile, but even the mighty Nile looks puny in the midst of the wilderness.  From Cairo to Amman, we flew over the Sinai Peninsula and there I saw the wilderness that the Children of Israel supposedly wandered around for 40 years for punishment for disobeying the God of Moses.  Well, after flying over it, I would say, "Dang, God, did you have to go that far? I mean, really?"  As we flew into Jordan, it was more of the same except perhaps a little more colorful with some red sand hills in the distance.  Upon arrival, I thought I would be greeted with a cool winter breeze, but instead I got a big waft of summer.  It was such a change from the low-50s temperatures I was already dealing with in Morocco. 

Supposedly according to the locals, the temperatures have been unusually high for the month.  We'll see if it cools down at all while I am here.  However, even it cools and rains come, it would revive the hills and turn them green, but just for a brief moment.  Irrigation is helping to create more arable plots, but there's only enough water for isolated oases.  It's tough to say why the stories stuck, but I believe one way of getting a better understanding is to do as the locals do or as we say "walk a mile in someone else's shoes".  That I will do and will soon share those insights.   

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Some Travel Details

I flew on Egypt Air.  The flight took off at 12AM from Airport Mohammed V near Casablanca.  The airline served us a meal at 2AM Morocco time and then an hour and half later gave us a muffin and a choice of beverage.  The meals were delicious, one of the airline hostesses was extremely HOT, and the seats were decent.  The flight took off a little late due to some baggage mishandling problems, but they were forthright about the issue.  Due to the delay, I arrived in Cairo with only 30 minutes prior to the departure of my connecting flight to Amman.  Thankfully, the airline did an amazing job of fast-tracking all individuals going to Jordan through their connecting flights lobby and they also got my luggage transferred in time.  I recommend the airline.

For my return trip to Casablanca, I am going to try out UAE-based discount airline Air Arabia.  Their rates are the lowest I've seen for travel through the Middle East.  For instance, flights from Casablanca to Alexandria will run about $140 one way.  Egypt Air flights are marketed through major online travel websites like Orbitz, Expedia, et al;  Air Arabia flights are not.  I have heard some stories of subpar service from Air Arabia from other volunteers.  We'll see if their stories are isolated instances or the general rule.  For the price though, it's tough to complain when most everyone else is charging 30-50% more for the same route.  Who knows? Perhaps the service will be so good or so bad that it may merit a blog entry.  Stay tuned.

Amoebas No More, Inshallah

In one of my last blogs, I spoke about how insignificant I felt walking in the midst of towering mountains and plateaus that have been carved and molded over millennia by the chaotic cosmic forces of the universe.  Well, there happens to be something else that has also been around for millennia that has also made me feel completely insignificant and powerless, yet their size is microscopic at best, but the havoc they can wreck can render the healthiest and the most fit completely useless.  Yet, I don't think they have ever made it into a snazzy National Geographic documentary perhaps because they don't shoot out any venom, have sharp teeth, or strike at lightning speed; nonetheless, they should be given a show of their own and be recognized as a force to be reckoned with.  I speak of none other than the tiny, yet almighty amoeba.

On two separate instances, amoebas have invaded my stomach.  You would think that with all the gastric acid sloshing around that these little critters would never have a chance to survive, but somehow they do.  According to the authoritative Wikipedia, the name amoeba comes from the Greek work amoibe, which means change.  Before the word amoibe came about, Wikipedia says, "Early naturalist referred to Amoeba as Protus animalcule after the Greek God Protus who could change his shape."  And indeed, they do.  They expand, shrink, and form protective sheaths around themselves.  These critters are the shadiest of characters lurking in what appears to be refreshingly clean spring water, coasting on the surface of what looks like well-cooked and certainly appetizing street food, or hiding within what seems like healthy looking fruits and veggies.  It's impossible to tell when they arrived or from whence they came because they often forgo duplication until the environment is just right for them.  Oh but when they do, be ready for the gastrointestinal fight of the ages.  

Within the volunteer community, conversations about our bowel movements are as common as speaking about the weather.  We have come to regard a solid stool as something of a novelty and reminds us of better days.  Those fond memories help us weather the days when it feels as if all your internal organs are being liquefied and being expelled with the force of a cataclysmic volcanic eruption that is then followed by tremors, murmurs, and subsequent explosions that leave one feeling completely helpless and subject to the will of your stomach.

During these recurrent blasts of liquid fire, your stomach becomes a prima-donna of sorts rejecting anything that it deems unworthy of its peculiar taste, and sometimes it rejects any food or beverage outright.  Fortunately for these moments, our Peace Corps med kits are stocked with sodium and electrolyte packets that when mixed with water are the equivalent of chugging a full glass of ocean water. Yum, yum!  Naturally, without any food or calories to burn, your body goes into hibernation mode.  The common saying ‘I feel empty inside’ voiced by many seeking some sort of spiritual transcendence or satisfaction in their lives takes on a literal meaning.

After a day of violent convulsions and eruptions, your stomach now purged of the foreign invaders begins to tolerate some simple starches.  From there, we begin our BRAT diet regime, which includes bananas, rice, apples, and toast.  It's a rather bland menu, but flavor is the last thing on your mind.  With every bite you take, you utter a prayer in the hopes that your inflamed, hypersensitive, and enzyme-depleted stomach will accept the tiniest of morsels.

Little by little, your stomach returns to normalcy, but unless you’ve undergone treatment to eradicate the versatile amoeba, the Hindenburg style bloating, napalm spewing anus, and magma churning stomach are bound to return.  The PC Med Team is well versed on amoebas, giardia, food poisoning, and other symptoms of gastrointestinal warfare.  Over the course of my service, I’ve been on an intensive three-day as well as a seven-day treatment of Tinidazole and/or Intetrix.  Upon taking the drugs, you may think that all will be fine and well from henceforth, but that path to recovery is a long and troublesome road.  In some cases, the drugs can be just as debilitating as the amoebas.  The medicine kills all bacteria even the good guys leaving your stomach devoid of the normal flora needed to break down food.  

In the absence of your normal bacteria, sometimes yeast can multiply uninhibited giving you more gas and other strange symptoms.  In such cases, you scrap the BRAT diet and introduce a more complex diet of cooked veggies, proteins, yogurt, and some friendly probiotic treatments like Ultra Levure. 

When I get back to the states, I’m totally auditioning for the Bio Activia commercials.  My dialogue with that of another volunteer would go something like this:

            Jonathan: [Casually with an empathetic smile] Hi, Mary, have you been spewing fire from every orifice again?

            Mary: [Sighing] Oh, thank goodness that’s over, but I’ve been bedridden for the last few days ever since taking my anti-parasite medicine and my stomach can’t digest worth a crap. [Ha ha]

            Jonathan: Been there.  Have you ever tried Activia?

            Mary: Activia?

            Jonathan: Yes, that’s what I said.

            Mary: Why no? What is it?

            Jonathan: It’s a magical yogurty concoction that contains Bifidus Regularis.

            Mary: What the heck is Bifidus Regularis?

            Jonathan: It’s friendly bacteria that can help in the digestive process after your typical Mt. Saint Helen’s-esque eruptions or whiplash-like convulsions.

            Mary: Why Jonathan, I’m just gonna have to try it!

            Jonathan: You won’t regret it, but if you still have excessive gas, constipation, diarrhea, and other abnormal symptoms on a frequent basis, check with your doctor because the parasites must have really done a number on you and you may be in need of a complete revamp of your diet that may or may not include Activia to avoid the onset of other chronic gastrointestinal disturbances.

            Mary:  Wow, Jonathan. I knew I could count on you to provide me a prolonged explanation that is only slightly comforting.

            Jonathan:  Hey, that’s what I’m here for.

I’m going to pitch it to Danone when I get back.  I’m sure it will have to go through legal and their med unit before it’s approved.  I’ll keep you posted.

The road to recovery is one that needs to be reassessed on a continuous basis.  The PC Med Team has already confirmed that I will have health vouchers so that I can conduct all the necessary tests and trials to ensure that traces of parasites are absent from my fragile and sensitive system, which may entail a government-funded colonoscopy.  Bring it on!

Amoeba Action Figure

As you may know, I am all about full disclosure.  I knew quite well that coming to Peace Corps, inherently, carries a number of risks.  If I'm not mistaken, the number one cause of death amongst volunteers is transportation accidents, which to some extent is out of your hands.  Anti-parasite meds usually take care of amoebas, but the after effects of the damage and the side effects of the meds can last for a brief moment or could develop into something more long-term.  But unlike transportation accidents, you can reduce your chances of an epic bout with amoebas to nil.  When I first arrived in Morocco, I criticized Moroccan cuisine for their propensity to cook their veggies to a mush.  I cried, “Oh where, oh where have all the raw veggies and salads gone?” Now I understand why.  They know all about amoebas and wisely pressure-cook their veggies until they resemble a dilapidated, torn, and strewed figure of their once wholesome selves.  Now, I say, “Bring on the mush.”  I scoffed when other volunteers living in urban sites like mine would boil their water saying, “Why do you waste precious buta gas on treated water?”  Now, after learning that even in my own town of Sefrou treatment capacity is compromised after heavy rains, which happens quite often during the winter months, I boil my water religiously.  As far as street food is concerned, I said a sorrowful goodbye.  Our PC Med Team did share a lot of information at Pre-service Training, but I think my youthful naiveté of invincibility clouded my thinking, and as such, I learned a very important lesson: that even the most fit is no match for the itty-bitty, teeny-weensy yet all powerful amoebas.  

Not surprisingly, even poets acknowledged the magnificence of these little creatures.  Here’s a witty tribute by Arthur Guiterman:

"Ode To The Amoeba"

Recall from Time's abysmal chasm

That piece of primal protoplasm

The First Amoeba, strangely splendid,

From whom we're all of us descended.

That First Amoeba, weirdly clever,

Exists today and shall forever,

Because he reproduced by fission;

He split himself, and each division

And subdivision deemed it fitting

To keep on splitting, splitting, splitting;

So, whatsoe'er their billions be,

All, all amoebas still are he.

Zoologists discern his features

In every sort of breathing creatures,

Since all of every living species,

No matter how their breed increases

Or how their ranks have been recruited,

From him alone were evoluted.

King Solomon, the Queen of Sheba

And Hoover sprang from that amoeba;

Columbus, Shakespeare, Darwin, Shelley

Derived from that same bit of jelly.

So famed is he and well-connected,

His statue ought to be erected,

For you and I and William Beebe

Are undeniably amoebae!

(http://www.blueridgejournal.com/poems/ag-amoeba.htm)