Four young Arabs discover America

We dance for laughter,

 we dance for tears,

 we dance for madness,

 we dance for fears,

 we dance for hope,

 we dance for screams,

 we are the dancers,

we create the dreams…………………………………………… :)

Sara:) 

Now, I don’t have kids, but I feel like the stay at home soccer mom supporting the adventures of the cast and crew from the sidelines. I’m in charge of craft service (aka the snacks)  This can be challenging, but I learned quickly what tickles the palates of our cast and crew and it’s a joy to provide that to them. Here’s a few highlights– favorites and absolute dislikes:

Guy – Sea Salt and Vinegar chips
Jonathan – Iced tea (doesn’t drink coffee)
Cecilia – Iced Starbucks Coffee Drinks
Loren – Raisins
Jerome – Diet Coke. And Diet Coke. And Diet Coke or die.
Adissa – Messy f’ing Sunflower seeds and small water bottles.
Lyzz – DOES NOT LIKE BANANAS
Micah – Vanilla Powerbars, no nuts
Leon – All non-Hershey chocolate
Allison – 5 hour energy shots and m&m’s
Noessa – Diet Coke
Lyndsey – Cheese
Steve – Anything candy
Lama – …honestly I don’t know her favorite, but the rest of us appreciate her staying away from gassy foods.
Sara – Nothing that’s actually on the menu
Basheer – Protein – fruit, veggies, hummus.
Joseph – everything plus eating what the rest have left behind.

As for me, I like orange juice, green apples, butterfinger bites and luna bars. Plus I keep mini stock pile in the Penske of everyone’s favorites. Because, okay, you know those random childhood memories, that involve food somehow? Like grandma’s cinnamon toast after the doctor’s office or sloppy joes at sleep away camp? Simple gestures that end up having a long standing impact. That’s what I hope the trail mix and Diet Coke provides to my On The Road in America Family –a delightful little joy amidst this incredible journey.

-Katie

Sara

When someone asks me “What’s your religion?” then, well, I answer that I’m Muslim, but I don’t (and never did) really practice. But personally, I believe that I do practice [religion] when I have a clear conscience, when I respect myself, when I respect others– when I help them, when I am faithful, etc. I am writing about religion now because we went to visit [and film at] several churches, but I decided not to go. In fact, I only visited two churches.  I simply wish to clarify that I respect every religion, but personally, I have a different point of view. Moreover, no discussion on the subject interests me.

I don’t deny the existence of God. On the contrary, God does exist, but for me he is the sum-total of all existence. He is the identity of the entire universe. Everything that exists is divine. Human beings can’t escape from God, because like the world in which we live, we and the world are part of God, and part of the Great Everything.

Sara

[translation by Ben and Lyzz Schwegler]

We’re finally in Nashville, TN; cradle of country and bad boy of the South.  So far so good– we have two days off before picking up shooting again.  Yesterday was a long drive from Birmingham by way of Space Camp (!!), which involved an torrential downpour… Ahh, summer in the South.

Our journey from New Orleans to Nashville took along part of the “civil rights trail,” through Montgomery and Birmingham, AL.  Two cities wracked by some of the worst mass injustices and cruelties perpetrated in this country, yet both also the context for some of the most powerful and catalytic events in the American civil rights movement.  Montgomery, home to courageous Rosa Parks, and Birmingham, where the unparalleled Martin Luther King, Jr. once lived and preached.

The first stop we made in Montgomery was the corner in front of the Empire Theater where Rosa Parks was arrested on the bus way back in 1955.   We met with a few people who are curators of the Rosa Parks museum and also personally connected with Mrs. Parks. I was in awe, as one woman told me about growing up around Mrs. Parks, how her aunt was one of her closest friends, how she lived “just up the street over there.”  Soon Katie (another PA) and a younger guy affiliated with the museum joined in too, and our conversation went on to the entire civil rights movement and the current state of race relations in the South.  The two locals said that sadly, an amount of very blatant racism still goes on– not “just” prejudice or bias, but true old-fashioned racism.  I know that for myself, growing up in Los Angeles, I tend to be desensitized to racial differences.  Segregation, whether overt or disguised, seems like a thing of the past to me.

In the past year, this country has been overwhelmed with a flood of calls for “change.”  Our own Bash has bravely embarked on his own journey of change, as we have been honored to have him share in his latest post.  But, the most difficult part of making this leap– whether it be fighting the lesser aspects of our characters, ending human rights abuses, or simply ushering in a new administration– is making a clean break with the past.  We all, individually and collectively, carry our history with us eternally.  It is always there, always unchanging, always final, and always reaching out to affect our future.  It is a dance we all engage in, a partner we cannot escape but can only lead in a new direction.

As I spoke with these two Montgomery natives, who were born and live steeped in Alabama’s civil rights struggle, I was amazed by their open forgiveness and firm belief in constantly moving forward, despite the many wrongs executed on them and their families.  “We all bleed the same red blood, and we’re all ‘colored.’ ” the boy said. “Most people believe what they’re told when they’re growing up.  But I think it’s like eating chicken– you have to eat the meat, and spit out the bones.”

-Lyzz

Today I am writing my first blog and I will start with the word sorry.

In the last few days I was in a very bad mood and everybody around me was wondering why I was upset. A few people assumed its my own insecurity and the others thought its a family problem.

Here is the true story– I was upset lately I felt that I have been isolated from the cast and the crew. I couldn’t understand why this was happening, and I am trying to solve the problem but I don’t know from where to start.

I had an unexpected meeting with my friend and roommate, who is now my best friend, Joseph Assi (the other male cast member). He came to me running asking me to sit down and to shut up for 15 minutes. I was very shocked from his attitude wondering what he want to say!

He started with a question: “What is going on with you, Bash?” I answered, “Nothing.” He said, “Why are you are so offensive?” I said I am not trying to be arrogant, but inside I started to shake, which is unusual. He said, “Why are you talking in an aggressive way with everybody?” I didn’t answer. He started to talk with me about my arrogance and how I always like to act as the godfather.

I was astonished by what he said, even though I knew he was speaking the truth. The other question Joseph had asked was, “How does the cast present themselves?” I answered, “Every person from the cast presents himself as Lebanese who was brought up in different country, except for you, Joseph. Lama from Saudi Arabia, Sara from Africa, and Joseph, a Palestinian refugee in Lebanon. He asked me what about you, Bash? I answered, “I am Lebanese but raised in Egypt.”

He told me, “You always mention Lebanon but you never speak about Egypt, you never mention anything about the Pharaohs legacy, Egyptian culture or even the night life in Egypt. Why are you always talking about Lebanon yet you know nothing about it? The audience for the show will not understand you because you don’t understand yourself.

The second subject is accepting that you are not the only mature person in this show or this world, you are just a 26 year old man, and you have to leave all the responsibilities for the crew and production to be able to continue this show and your life, forget about your old experiences and the pressure that you have back home and open up your eyes and stop being a bully (this is how Jerome always describes me), and start giving your ears a chance to listen.” I leaned back on the ground where we were sitting and I started thinking about every word Jospeh said and about what I did from the first day I came to America untill this second.

I realized that I have made so many mistakes with the crew without me realizing because my philosophy in life was completely wrong.

Tonight at dinner I was so worried because I had a confessional in front of the camera and I said things that I never expected I would say. I extended a message to Jerome asking him for a change and admitting that I am not the biggest man in the world, I am just a 26 year old man who is willing to listen and accept change. That happened before my meeting with Joseph.

I was worried because I could feel my system not functioning like before, but for better or worse, I wasn’t sure.

Before the crew and I started dinner last night, I had an argument with one of my favorite crew members, Lyzz, and I realized afterwards that I was completely wrong. But, rather than me solving the problem, I dug my head further into mud…

This message is for Lyzz:

Dear Lyzz,

Allow me to apologize in front of the cast, crew and the whole world for what I said earlier at the restaurant and the way I said it, especially that it was in public. I never meant to disrespect you or to treat you in a bad manner, cause I wouldn’t allow myself to treat one of my favorites this way. You were always there for me, supporting me helping me, and directing me to be always there on time (which I call ‘Egyptian time’). I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry; even I hate to say sorry.

I would like to say sorry secondly to myself for the crime that I would have committed on myself for not accepting change, which frames myself as an ignorant, arrogant and not understandable person. I want to apologize to myself and to my history because I misled friends, crew, cast, and production.

I have learned and I am learning from everyone how they are using their background, foreground and their surroundings to connect with Americans and the entire world. I have learned that by trying to be Lebanese instead of accepting my Egyptian background, I have created major difficulties for my personality as well. I have so much to say and I have so much to tell and I hope its not too late to achieve that, because having a clear goal is half the battle.

Sorry to Jerome for blaming you because I couldn’t blame myself.

Sorry to Guy for seeing me sad and I know you don’t like to see me this way.

Sorry, Katie.

Sorry, Cecilia.

Sorry, Jonathan.

Sorry Leon for not understanding you, even when you are speaking Arabic.

Sorry, Lama.

Sorry, Sara.

Sorry, Adisa.

Sorry, Mary.

Sorry, Allison.

Sorry, Noessa.

Sorry, Joseph for coping with all my ups and downs.

Sorry, Lyndsey

Sorry, Micah

Sorry Egypt that I am not being an ideal person for the city that took me under her wings.

I know this post will be posted forever and I am proud to publish it in front of all my friends, family and “On the Road in America” crew and cast members, because the only thing would stop us from change is death.

I have nothing left to say and I will leave the rest for you guys to decide.

THANK YOU GOD.

Best regards
Bash…

OTR2 has been featured in the Montgomery Advertiser, the local newspaper here in Montgomery, AL!  While filming yesterday we were honored to have another film crew from a local station and a couple local reporters with us.

See the article here!

And very best wishes to everyone in Montgomery who helped us out yesterday, what a wonderful and charming town.

Dawn is breaking
and i sit here
on my red chair
the skies are so gray
the trees are so short
the sea is so far
and the light is so black
Dawn is among us
and he is roaming
in my little room he roams
he jumps here and there
and watches me as i
try to beat time
in this card game of his
time and dawn
are now both with me
looking at me
as i sit here
on my red chair
watching the mirror
and in it i see
my soul leaving my body
and red juice over my blankets
its morning

written on 13 – 9 – 09 5:03 am

Well, we’ve officially survived an entire week of “work” in the French Quarter. We left New Orleans this morning, after yet another long night on Bourbon St. (at least for some of us)… The problem (or at least so I’m telling myself) was that we shot Bash and the girls having a “night out on the town,” which obviously could only end with cast and crew getting hurricanes and “huge ass beers” (if you’ve been to Bourbon you know what I mean). Work hard, play hard, anyone? Did make for a looong day of driving to Alabama today though…

The past few days, our summer Gulf Coast weather kicked up to the next level. Walking outside in the morning is like stepping into a sauna; showering begins to seem pointless, and certainly futile. You run for cover inside blessed air-conditioned buildings, only to forget the suffering of moments before and be overwhelmed yet again when you’re finally forced to return to the street. But in a way, the insurmountable heat is comforting. You are left with no choice but to release yourself from petty cares like dry clothes and stable hair– no choice but walk straight past that mirror and revel in your own sweat. It’s the great equalizer, since no one stays fresh or clean for long.

Yesterday morning we headed over to the Upper 9th Ward to participate in a house build with Habitat for Humanity, who are the brawn behind Musicians’ Village, a post-Katrina rebuilding effort begun by Harry Connick Jr. and Branford Marsalis to re-house displaced native musicians. The sun was sweltering, but we toughed it out for several hours with the AmeriCorps and Habitat volunteers working on the house. The Village is a work of art in and of itself– each little house painted a different bright color, complete with a front porch and yard (pictures coming soon). All of us came away with the utmost respect for the volunteers working on these houses daily in the ridiculous heat. True, these houses aren’t mansions, but they still take an amazing amount of work to build (especially since they must be as hurricane-proof as possible). And, as one cast member pointed out on our lunch break, the volunteers build these houses without ever necessarily even meeting the final occupants– truly a selfless labor of love.

I spoke with our local producer, Melissa, about her personal experience with Katrina– working in Los Angeles when the storm hit, unable to be with her family as their homes were ruined, and with Joseph about his life growing up in a Palestinian refugee camp, and I started thinking again about the meaning of home.  So much more than simply a building; also a manifestation of your existence, in a way a projection of your life and an anchor for your family. To be displaced from home in such a brutal fashion can only be like tearing at a piece of your soul.  Hopefully, the work Habitat is doing in the 9th Ward is helping to restore some of that loss.

After Musicians’ Village, Joseph spent the evening and night in some New Orleans housing projects.  A far cry from the French Quarter, where drinks are three for one every night and Mardi Gras beads forever hang from lamp posts like Spanish moss. Two sides to every coin, two faces to every city.

We’re now in Montgomery, AL, the birthplace of the American civil rights movement. I think we’re all excited to see the town and explore a little bit of that very moving part of our national history, especially against the background of our current president. Of course its never so simple, but in a sweetly naive way it does seem as though history has come full circle.  More thoughts on that tomorrow…

-Lyzz

I’m packing my stuff to be heading to the projects; I will meeting Sam there who will be my guide and godfather for the next day and a half.  I cant wait to see what’s gonna happen and how will I react.

I’m positively sure its gona be a wonderful time!

-Joe

عال طريق بأمريكا

عال طريق بأمريكا

عال طريق بأمريكا

new orleansرحنا على

بدك يعني الله يعينز

ع شو شفنا

و ع شو عملنا

عال طريق بأمريكا

AND SOON WE WILL HAVE IT WITH THE MELODY

THANK U THANK U THANK U

AMAZINK

We’re halfway through our shoot in New Orleans, and if there’s been one over-arching theme of the week, I’d say it could be summed up in one simple word: “heat.” Anyone who’s been through the South in summer can tell you that the weather never leaves you here. It wraps you in a blanket of humidity the moment you step outside, drenches you in a tropical thunderstorm every evening, and is manifested through a landscape of banana trees, cattails, and murky swamps. But more than just the temperature, there’s another heat that permeates New Orleans– the passion and decadence of Bourbon St., the fiery soul of the Southern Baptist church, and the still-present sorrow from Hurricane Katrina. This is a city of many emotions, many temptations, and none of them restrained; a pretty lady with a dirty face and a secret smile.

Our first day of shooting was Sunday, and we attended three entire church services– one small Baptist in a rougher part of town, one Episcopalian in the Garden District, and another huge Baptist megachurch on the outskirts of the city. Each one was incredibly different, but all had the same overwhelming sense of community and faith.

Yesterday was spent paying homage to all the requisite New Orleans spots; beignets at Café du Monde, strolling through the French Quarter, exploring the Basin St. Cemetery, and a carriage ride through the Garden District.

-Lyzz

Well, we finally arrived in New Orleans last night from Dallas, after a long long day of driving. We wrapped Episode 2 on Wednesday night in Dallas, finishing up with a night out at the swanky W Hotel. Had to say goodbye to Mary, who isn’t directing Ep3, and Noessa who left us to do some prep work for Ep4, which she is Field Producer for.

Dallas was more interesting than I expected. I know what you’re thinking; isn’t it all ladies with giant hair, thick accents, and lots of oil money? I suppose they exist somewhere in Dallas, but as with most places, the stereotypes don’t really slap you in the face the moment you arrive.

Our first stop was an amazing biker bar / shop / dealership called Strokers. I’ll have some photos soon, because words really can’t describe– its an entire community in and of itself, you have to see it to believe it. So cool.

Unfortunately most of my time in Dallas revolved around fixing the many problems that have arisen or we’ve created (however unintentionally!!) with our may vehicles. I spent the drive from Clarendon, TX (and our amazing ranch.. see below) trying to convince our RV rental company that we needed– NEEDED — a new RV in Dallas. Finally I had to pull out the big guns and have our Supervising Producer Allison instill the fear of God into them. Remember the drama with the so-called propane leak in Santa Fe, Joseph passing out, etc.? Well the nasty smell which we all thought was propane kept up the whole way from Santa Fe to Gallup, Amarillo, and Clarendon. It got so bad that the rest of the caravan (all 5 vehicles!) could smell it behind the RV on the road. Thinking we had an imminent explosion on our hands, we of course cleared out all passengers and left Micah, our sacrificial lamb, to drive it by himself. Needless to say, there isn’t a whole lot going on between Gallup, NM and Amarillo, TX, and to make matters worse it was Sunday… NOBODY was open. We were also trying to get to Amarillo in time for Joseph to attempt eating the 72 Oz. steak at the Big Texan restaurant.

So, we stopped for lunch and finally decided that Micah and I would stay with the RV and see if we could find somewhere along the road to dump the propane and then meet everyone in Amarillo later. We all spent a good half hour (at least) trying to get all the gear off the RV and into the mini-vans before the caravan finally left us. Micah and I ended up sitting at a truck stop for an hour or so calling all the closed propane providers, trying to find an RV service station, and even having the local fire department come out to see if they could do anything… Which they couldn’t.

Fast forward to morning in Amarillo, where I woke early and took the RV over to a local propane station where a very nice man looked at the tank, confirmed yet again that there was no leak and there should not be any smells after we shut the valve. He suggested it must be something with the exhaust or possibly the catalytic converter, which can smell very similar to propane if not functioning properly. He insisted it wouldn’t be harmful, but of course nobody was willing to brave riding in the RV before getting it serviced (or hopefully exchanged) in Dallas.

And that was how I ended up at a Ford dealership in Dallas Tuesday night, trying to convince the mechanic to look at our RV immediately, which he finally did. After all this, it turned out that the exhaust pipe was cut a little too short. No immense propane leak, no faulty catalytic converter, just a short pipe. Sigh.

We also managed to put a big crack in the windshield of one of the minivans, which I got to spend a couple hours switching out at the Dallas airport. By the time Wednesday night rolled around, I was really ready to experience some Dallas-style nightlife with cast & crew.

-Lyzz

ON THE ROAD IN AMERICA is entering its second season. With a new cast and new focus on social media, the show will be blogging, twittering and facebooking as they travel the country. Be sure to follow, bookmark or become a fan of us for live updates you won’t want to miss!