What is Film Noir? Many critics debate whether or not this style of film-making is a genre unto itself or not. Film Noir, or black film, is a type of film from the 40s and 50s, typically gritty detective stories, that thematically deal with sex, drugs, crime, and the seedy underbelly of society. The films also utilize cinematography, lighting and shadows, and music to create a dark and ominous mood. Noir characters aren’t heroes. They’re flawed every-men.
Film Noir in Vienna’s Sewer System
Additionally, the narrative structure tends to drive the climax into some sort of maze or shrinking space, forcing the protagonist and antagonist together. The screenplays are often pessimistic, fatalistic, or nihilistic. But a film classified into this not-genre doesn’t have to have any or all of these and there are many films in the genre which have virtually none.
It’s confusing as hell. So when I was assigned an oral presentation on film noir during my first, freshman year, History of Cinema class in college, I butchered my way through it and escaped with a B+. Still, to this day, I’m bewildered when it comes to what makes noir, noir. And looking back, I’m pretty sure the rest of the class was as well.
During my recent trip to Vienna, however, I enjoyed watching a classic bit of film noir cinema greatness: TheThirdMan (with OrsonWelles). Shot almost entirely on location in Austria (including the theater BurgKino, in which we viewed the picture), the film takes place during a post-WWII rebuilding of Vienna, when the main character comes to town to find his best friend dead. The first line of voice-over narration says, “I never knew the old Vienna before the war…”
Vienna’s Reisenrad or Ferris Wheel as it Looks Today (it was a featured scene in the film)
A mystery ensues (if you haven’t seen it I won’t spoil it for you) all over the capital city of Austria transporting the audience to 1949, but to many of the same places Jen and I had visited earlier in the visit. The film was very good and I recommend it. I’m still not sure I can explain exactly what makes it film noir, although the final chase through Vienna’s complex sewersystem – complete with elongated shadows and echoing footsteps – is most likely the film’s best indication.
In his review of the film, the late RogerEbert said, “Of all the movies I have seen, this one most completely embodies the romance of going to the movies.” I don’t completely agree with him, but I can see how he arrived at that opinion. I did feel very much engrossed in the golden age of Hollywood during the screening.
The Prague Skyline Panorama from atop the Astronomy Tower
How many cities in the world rhyme with the word blog?
Combined with the trip to the German Christmas markets, we swung through the CzechRepublic for a couple days to see what all the hullabaloo was about their capital city: Prague. It’s been on the top of my life for over 10 years for a few reasons. The first of which is that everybody who’s been there raves about it. I’ve spoken to friends, family, and even strangers on the interwebs who claim Prague is one of the most beautiful cities in Europe.
Rightly so, considering it was one of the few major markets to avoid bombing during WWII. The Nazis marched across the border prior to their invasion of Poland – which was the inciting incident that brought the combined strength of Britain and France down upon the ThirdReich. With the city heavily occupied by the Nazis, and so geographically close to the German stronghold of Munich, it’s easy to see why many of the beautiful architecture dating back to the Middle Ages survived.
Tyn’s Church and the Astronomical Clock Tower from a Distance
However, I must say that while I enjoyed my time in Prague, I was somewhat disappointed. Perhaps it was the level of expectations people set for me. Perhaps it was the weather. Perhaps the crowds (we happened to be there on a Czech specific holiday) stole some of the majesty away. These may have all been contributing factors, but I presume the real reason I wasn’t thrilled is simply due to the sheer amount of traveling I’ve done over the past few years. Many of the places I’ve seen around Asia and Africa just dwarf what Prague is and has been. It’s the way I choose to travel – more IndianaJones than AnthonyBourdain.
I guess what I most wanted to experience was that OldWorld feel of being in another place and time. I wanted to step out of the 21st century and into the central square and winding back streets of Prague to feel like I had been transported to the 16oos. If you’ve seen The Illusionist (mostly shot in the Czech Republic) you’ll understand a bit of what I mean. However, the massive amount of traffic – both pedestrian and automotive – didn’t help to get the job done. On top of that, there are hundreds of old buildings, yet their first floor storefronts have become GAPs, ZARAs, and other high end clothing and jewelry stores. That certainly takes away from the ambience.
Of all the activities we did, the one that made me feel the most like traveling back in time was a tour of the Clementinum: a series of buildings that now houses the national library, among other things. In the past, it was where Kepler and Brahedid a lot of their work high above in their astronomytower. That was where we were able to view the amazingly preserved BaroqueLibrary, as well as gaze out over the entire city. The view of the church steeples and Medieval and Renaissance roofs was astounding.
The Charles Bridge with Prague Castle and St. Vitus Cathedral Behind
We also crossed the CharlesBridge a few times, back and forth to the old town square, or StaromestskeNamesti – which is home to both the AstronomicalClock (fantastic) and the famously haunting Tyn’sChurch that dominates the skyline. The bridge crosses the VltavaRiver, is over 600 meters long and over 10 meters wide. It dates back to the 14th century and is considered to be one of the most astonishing gothic style bridges in the world, decorated with over 30 statues (mostly of Christian iconography). It’s beautiful for sure, when you’re not crammed shoulder to shoulder with people trying to cross. It ended up feeling more like a through-way than an actual sight to go and see for itself.
Likewise, the old town square was so full of people, it became difficult to move. I’ll even go so far as to say it reminded me of being in China. Yep, it was that bad. The church was cool from the outside, but overly decorated and gaudy from the inside. The clock was perhaps the best part, though with so many people there, it became difficult to soak it in and enjoy it fully.
Prague’s Astronomical Clock
The clock was finished in 1410 and is the third oldest (and only still operational) astronomical clock in the world. The dial is an astrolabe, a medieval device used for star mapping. The clock face also boasts a zodiac ring. Normally, the center of the square is empty. Except we happened to be there during Advent and like their German neighbor, Prague boasts its own version of the Christmas market.
The fully lit tree was a nice touch, as was the stage (off to the side) where groups of children’s choirs would perform one after the other. And on December5th, Mikulas makes an appearance. The Czech version of Santa is slightly different from our own. He appears with two followers: an angel and a devil, also known as the Krampus. If the child has been bad over the year, the devil kidnaps him (or her) and tosses them in his sack to bring straight to hell. However, the angel pleads to Mikulas on the child’s behalf, to save him from damnation. Mikulas then asks the child to reciteasongor a poem and if he can, then he’s freed from the devil’s sack and given a treat. If he can’t, it’s said that there’s nothing else to be done but wave goodbye as the cackling krampus departs.
Staromestske Namesti (Old Town Square)
Quite a bit scarier than getting a lumpof coal in your stocking. Don’t you think?
So our trip was fun and delightful overall. I wish that I had felt more of the magic Prague has to offer. I suppose that’s the risk when one’s traveled to Kathmandu, Kyoto, and Cairo.
Without a doubt, one of the hardest aspects of being an expat is spending the holidays without family and friends surrounding you (hence the previous blog about Christmas movie viewing). Needless to say, every year we look for new and exciting ways to celebrate and curb the loneliness that comes from living abroad, while still keeping the traditions that we grew up with alive.
This year, our Christmas holiday season began with a trip to Germany, where we visited the town that invented Christmas: Nuremberg. Now, when I say invented Christmas, I don’t mean the entire holiday. The human observation of the daylight growing longer and overcoming the darkness dates back to prehistory. However, many of our contemporary western ideas relating to the festival of lights come out of Germany and other central European nations.
The German Christmas Market in Munich
One way that many of the European cultures celebrate is through the markets. Christmas markets can be found all over the continent, but they – like many other traditions – originated in the area of Germany (ie. trees, wreaths, and Sinterklaas). The oldest of these is in Nuremberg where instead of Christmas market, it is called the Christkindlesmarkt.
Christkind translates to ‘ChristChild‘ in English and specifically in the Bavarian region (yes, we ate real pretzels and bratwurst), children write letters to the baby Jesus asking for presents. The letters are decorated with sugar to make them sparkle. The Nuremberg market opens on the Friday prior to the start of Advent, and a young girl with ‘Christ like’ qualities is chosen to participate in a parade as the Christkind. She wears a long, white dress and has blond curly hair with a gold crown atop her head. Sometimes she even wears wings like an angel.
Rothenburg ob der Tauber
Nobody really knows how the Christkindlesmarkt traditions began, but its been theorized to date back to 1628. The oldest piece of evidence is a wooden box with that date inscribed on the bottom alongside the words: Kindles–Marck. Additionally, the words Kindleinbescheren (handing out presents to children) or Weihnachtszeit (Christmas time) were used in official Nuremberg city documents as far back as 1610. Most historians believe that the markets gradually evolved between 1610 and 1639.
Most, if not all, of the Christmas markets in Germany, Austria, Switzerland, and other countries take place in or around the town square and Nuremberg is no different. The Hauptmarkt is the area of the town beneath the Frauenkirche – a very unique cathedral that appears to have jumped out of the pages of a steampunk novel, complete with a mechanical clock dating back to 1506 (but commemorating the Golden Bull of 1356).
Christkindlesmarkt at Night in Front of the Frauenkirche
There was a time when traveling meant capturing great photos of some far off places and experiencing the feeling of simply being there. That was when I took trips alone. Going on a holiday with Jen, however, is a completely different story. While I spend time researching hotels, airlines, and sights, she spends her time vigorously combing through internet forums for what people claim are the best souvenirs to buy. If I’m lucky, she chooses one. At a Christmas market though (at any sight with the word ‘market’ in the title), I felt lucky to get out of there with only a small handful.
During the trip we strolled through markets in Prague, Munich, RothenburgobderTauber, and Nuremberg. And after seeing the various styles of markets, I believe we made the right decision in doing all of our souvenir shopping in Nuremberg. The quality of hand–crafted goods far outweighed options at the other markets. Rothenburg ob der Tauber was such a small market, there were more Christmas shops than stalls (shops open year round so I’m told). Both Prague and Munich had a plethora of cheap, factory made chintz. It was frustrating to walk kilometers (literally) around the markets only to see the same junk being peddled at every booth.
Nuremberg Prune Men
On the other hand, Nuremberg showcased a variety of goods that none of the other markets had on display. For example, we purchased two very cute Christmas decorations. The first is called a smoker and is similar to a nutcracker. While the nutcracker sits on the shelf looking Christmasy and not doing much else (unless you really want to try cracking a nut), the smoker opens up and a small incense cone goes inside. The smoke comes out through a hole in the mouth, filling the room with the scents of pine trees, warm apple cinnamon, or anything else you might want.
The second is the Zwetschgenmannle, or Prune Men. They were supposedly invented in the 18th century by a man who only had wire and a plum tree. He wanted the perfect gift for his children so he created these little figurines. Today, the prune men come in all shapes and sizes (some even ride Harleys). It’s impossible to visit the Nuremberg market without getting at least one. They range in price from 3 to 20 euro, and unlike many of the other potential souvenirs (wooden ornaments, gingerbread, spiced wine, and more), the prune men can only be found in Nuremberg.
Jen with her Nuremberg Mug filled with Hot Chocolate
Another interesting aspect of the markets are the mugs. Visitors pay a deposit of 2 or 3 euro and get a special mug (every year has a different design and the date printed on it). You take your mug with you to every drink stall and order whatever hot beverage you prefer, whether it be hot chocolate, apple cider, or mulled wine. At the end of the evening, you can choose to either return your mug for the deposit, or keep it as another souvenir. We took a mug home from both Rothenburg and Nuremberg. Two more souvenirs and many cups of hot beverages that kept us warm while we shopped.
So, we enjoyed our short Advent trip to Germany and the Czech Republic. Next, we’ll be traveling to Italy, Austria, and Hungary. We both miss home and hope that all our family and friends are enjoying the build up and preparations for the holiday season… Stay tuned for more stories from our adventures!
Now that Thanksgiving is over, we find ourselves fully immersed in the holiday season. Because of this, I wanted to share some vital information to those of my readers who also double as film buffs. It’s come to my attention there has been a discrepancy about Christmas movies. So consider this article an brief guide to help steer you in the right direction.
To begin with, I would like to point out there are two types of films that will appear on this list:
Films about the Christmas spirit
Films that are set during the holiday season
If any of you Google any terms related to Christmas or holiday films, you will undoubtedly find rolls of film titles, some even 100 long. However, the vast majority of these movies are not Christmas movies in the traditional sense. The primary method of determining the validity of an actual Christmas film is where the holiday and its message fall within the context of the characters and story.
Or this…
If the holiday of Christmas is nothing more than a set-piece, ie. in the background or backdrop, with lights and snow then that film is NOT a Christmas movie. I repeat… movies with a Christmas setting are not necessarily Christmas films. So what makes a movie a Christmas movie?
For starters, the holiday itself is in the foreground of the story and characters. The movie needs to take place during Christmas or it doesn’t make sense. Stories that can be transferred to other seasons and still maintain their dramatic integrity do not count as Christmas movies.
Especially this…
Secondly, the theme of the film must have a happy and uplifting ending. Christmas movies are meant to make us feel good. By the time the fade-to-black hits and the credits begin, the audience should be laughing, smiling, have tears of joy streaking from their eyes, or some combination thereof. They should be about family and love and forgiveness and new beginnings. They should, for the most part, be so sappy and saccharine you want to gauge your eyes out with an ornament on your tree.
Yes, yes, yes… we all cheered when Batman finally got rid of the Penguin in Batman Returns (but that doesn’t make it a Christmas film). Nor are Die Hard, Gremlins, Trading Places, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Reindeer Games (though aptly named), Lethal Weapon, The Nightmare Before Christmas (again, aptly names), Meet Me in St. Louis, and Bad Santa (to name but a few) – as much as we may like them or think they are.
So, to sum up… A Christmas film must directly relate to the holiday AND leave audiences with a happy and uplifting ending. Got it? Good. Now onto the list of the top 25 “not-to-miss” Christmas films to watch this holiday season (in no particular order):
Miracle on 34th Street (either version)
A Christmas Carol (any version incl. Scroogedstarring Bill Murray)
It’s a Wonderful Life
Babes in Toyland
A Christmas Story (my personal favorite)
Home Alone
Elf (a contemporary classic)
WhiteChristmas
HolidayInn
National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation
The Santa Clause
The Bishop’s Wife
Holiday Affair
The Ref
Mixed Nuts
Four Christmases
Fred Claus
How the Grinch Stole Christmas
Just Friends (this one could go either way, but I believe it to be a Christmas-themed rom’ com’)
The Polar Express
The Holiday (on the fence)
Jingle All the Way
Prancer
Christmas with the Kranks
The Nativity Story
Exactly Like this…
And with the end of this blog, I wish a Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night – filled with hot, buttery popcorn, and 5.1 surround sound, high-def movie viewing!
During our travels, Jen and I happened to procure a bottle of authentic absinthe. It is an alcoholic beverage well-known in artistic circles for its distinctive greenish color as well as its hallucinatory properties. It is very difficult to purchase absinthe in the United States because of it complicated ingredients (the FDA has been all over it for about a century).
An Absinthe Fountain… Ready to Go
Since we found a real bottle of the controversial liquor here in Europe, we decided to take it out for a spin to see what happened (more on that later). During my research into the creation and popularity of absinthe, I discovered a very interesting story that begins with wine.
Just as the ancient Romans brought wine into Europe as they expanded north and west, the European settlers brought their wine across the ‘pond’ to the ‘new world’. However, the grapes couldn’t thrive in North American soil. Over the course of the next century or two, French farmers toyed around with American grape varieties without producing the same quality wines they had become accustomed to in their homelands.
Eventually, the Americans grafted European grapes with American grapes and shipped their yields back across the Atlantic to grow on European soil. Unfortunately, grapes weren’t the only things they brought back. A species of insect called the Phylloxera came along for the ride and caused irreparable damage to the French vineyards.
Political Cartoon Depicting an Inebriated Insect, Gorging on French Wine
The Great French Wine Blight started in 1868 and within 40 years, wiped out almost all of the vines. What scientists eventually discovered was that the bugs preferred munching on the leaves of the imported American vines as well as the roots of the local French vines. No grapes were safe.
By the early 20th century, grape growers were using a combination of pesticides and hybrid, phylloxera-resistant, vines of American and French grafting to reconstitute the supply of wine on the continent. Even today, wine has been forever changed due to the Blight (few people living has ever tasted the robust flavors of French wines that existed prior to 1868). However, another effect of the drop in wine production was the rise of absinthe consumption.
Absinthe is a spirit, without any added sugar, that tastes like anise (so don’t eat it with pizzelles). Originating from Switzerland, production of this beverage expanded in France in the late 19th century – 100 years after it was invented. It rose to great popularity directly because of the lack of wine available during the time period (in France alone over 2 million liters were consumed per year during and after the Blight), particularly with artists and writers, who wanted to “see beyond”. Hemingway even created his own use for the spirit by mixing it with champagne (he named it Death in the Afternoon, but more on the American author in another entry).
The Green Fairy by Henri Marie Raymond de Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa
In literature, films, and music (up to this day), absinthe has been vilified as a dangerous, addictive, and psychoactive drug due to the ingredient thujone, which is present in the plant known as wormwood (Artemisia absinthium). In spite of this inaccurate portrayal, nobody has been able to demonstrate the spirit to be more dangerous than any other alcoholic beverage produced in the world. Too bad, it’s still very difficult to find in the United States (some domestic liquor stores sell versions without wormwood).
Originally, wormwood was utilized as a plant with medicinal purposes from the ancient Egyptians through 18th century European doctors. They thought it had powerful healing effects and would prescribe it to patients with arthritis, fever, menstrual pain, tapeworm, to aid digestion, and even as an antiseptic. As it turns out, it was only a drug, and not a miracle cure (the story parallels that of cocaine use in Coke over a century ago, prior to the drug’s illegality and exclusion from the now popularly consumed carbonated soft-drink).
One of the most fascinating aspects of the spirit is how it’s prepared.
First, fill the bubble at the bottom of your Pontarlier (or another type of long, slender, or conical) glass with pure absinthe from the bottle (if you don’t have a Pontarlier, then fill the bottom 25% of the glass instead).
Set Fire to the Sugar Cube for the Czech Method
Next, place a traditional absinthespoon across the mouth of the glass (this spoon has holes or slits and looks a lot like a fancy cake serving utensil), but if you don’t have that spoon, a fork or another slotted device will work just as well.
Then, set a sugar cube on the spoon and slowly pour ice cold water over the cube and spoon until the sugar dissolves in the water and flows into the glass, mixing with the absinthe (the goal is 4 parts water to 1 part absinthe plus sugar).
At this point, you will notice that while the water and sugar dilutes the absinthe, the mixture also changes the color and consistency of the beverage (the clear green will fade into a cloudy greenish that loses its opaque quality).
Finally, sip and enjoy! Maybe…
Jen and I spent an evening trying out the drink. First of all, it tastes like ass run over twice… unless you’re a fan of licorice. The predominant (and I mean predominant) flavor ingredient is anise. Personally, I hate anise so that was already one strike against absinthe. Choking down the beverage all night didn’t provide the hallucinatory experiences the Bohemian artists of yesteryear claimed it did. What it did give me was a massive stomach ache with a touch of a foggy head (I couldn’t hear correctly for most of the night, as if I were underwater).
Our Bottle of Absinthe – from Andorra
Do I recommend absinthe? Nah. It’s not worth the aggravation to create. It’s too strong to consume without diluting it. And if you simply want to get drunk or buzzed, there are plenty of other tastier ways to do it. I believe these are the reasons that absinthe has fallen out of favor with the general population over the past century.
Why drink nasty licorice flavors when you can have vanilla vodka or coconut rum and mix these with Coke or Sprite?
For Halloween, I was given the gift of an overnight stay in an authentic, medieval, European castle! The small town of Olite is home to one of the top 10 castle-turned-hotels in all of Europe. It would have only been better if it were haunted. However, being in an honest to goodness feudal town got me thinking about what life must have been life over 1,000 years ago, and how it compares to life now.
The MiddleAges were, for a long time, also known as the DarkAges. Primarily because the years between the fall of the RomanEmpire and the beginning of the Renaissance were void of social, scientific, economic, and cultural advances (and a lack of written records during this period). The CatholicChurch controlled much of the known world at the time, and kingdoms fought bloody wars that ravaged the countryside and the people who lived there.
A Feudal Flowchart
The predominant type of government during this period was known as Feudalism, which was a way of structuring ownership of property (including land, goods, livestock, and servants) based upon the relationship between the owner and the user. Typically, a lord or a king would grand a temporary lease on his land or property, known as a fief, to a vassal. In return, the vassal would swear fealty or allegiance to the lord and pledge himself and his followers to join any fighting force if a war broke out.
One of the major aspects of Feudalism that allowed the practice to thrive between the 6th and 14th centuries was the serf. Serfdom was the condition of bondage or servitude that many peasants held while living on the fief lands leased to a vassal but ultimately controlled by the lord. Each serf or family of serfs occupied a plot of land and were required to work for the vassal who became the “lordof the manor“. They were granted protection and the ability to engage in subsistencefarming for themselves. This manor formed the basic unit of feudal society, and serfs were the lowest of the lowly classes.
Olite town square, where Bullfights and Jousts used to be held
According to Wikipedia, “the serf ‘worked for all’ while the knight ‘fought for all’ and a churchman ‘prayed for all’.” And while serfs couldn’t be bought and sold they way slaves were prior to the U.S.CivilWar, the land they lived and worked on could. So if a new lord came to own the land, that serf had no choice but to remain on said land, continuing to work for his new “master”.
The disparity of wealth between lords and serfs during this period was unconscionable. But relearning about the Middle Ages (I had done a lot of it in primary school) really got me comparing what the serfs went through to what the vast majority of people in the 21st century are going through. For all intents and purposes, the serfs were the medieval 99% (Occupy Europe?).
Through massive policy shifts that began in the 1970s under the NixonAdministration, including global privatization, multinational corporations, and free trade agreements, a new theory suggests humanity has entered into a modern era of feudalism. Neofeudalism is the belief that those who control the top 1% of wealth have positioned themselves as the new lords of the manors. They likewise, lease certain aspects of their holdings to vassals (CEOs, politicians, and bankers to name a few), who are then able to control the rest of us… aka serfs.
Feudalism: Then & Now
Essentially economic and commercial, Neofeudalism has been fueled by private interest groups, lobbying the governments of the world on all levels to scale back their involvement (and regulatory bodies) in a variety of industries. This widens the wealth gap and creates a larger population of poor and/or marginalized people, excluded from receiving basic needs as promised by their governments such as: healthcare, infrastructure, education, and civil services.
The 21st century is an age of CorporateFeudalism. The system of government and the ways in which these corporations evade regulations has prevented the 99% from fighting back in any way. Modern day serfs working three part time jobs, making barely enough money to live on, have no means to standing up to the corporate CEOs who control everything.
The people cannot risk losing what little they have already. And what do they truly want? Most ask for nothing more than the means to provide for their families – food, clothing, and shelter – yet aren’t even given a way to accomplish the simplest of these very easily. Look at escalating inflation for groceries and rent while the minimum wage has remained basically the same over the past 20 years!
The View from Our Hotel Room Window
Corporations are hardly new ideas. The original concept stemmed from the medieval guilds that attempted to restrain knowledge, power, and wealth to members only (remember those corny jackets in the 80s that tried to make a fashion comeback a few years ago?). The main guild goal was to maintain the interests of the existing power structure.
Sound familiar? It should. It’s exactly what corporations have been doing for decades when they throw money and influence at political campaigns, backing candidates who will vote with the corporations’ best interests (profit) in mind, and little care for anything else, specifically the modern day serfs.
In the United States, the words “federalism” and “feudalism” can be almost interchangeable when you look at the way our own Constitution was arranged. Most aspects of the employer-employee relationship was regulated by a common law that enforced principles of hierarchy derived from the feudal society of the late Middle Ages. The system of workplace regulation, the law of master and servant, permitted an employer to beat his worker until the courts ruled it unconstitutional in 1843!
The Sitting Room
Thus, corporations themselves were created to protect the employer interests during decades of cheap labor and plentiful fossil fuels. Our founding fathers probably hoped the vestiges of the feudal system would wither away with their shunning of corporations, however, their 20th century replacements – from Nixon onward – have undone a lot of the work that was done to make our nation a land of the free.
The development of our contemporary capitalistic Neofeudal system also makes one consider the implications of the “fight” against communism during the Cold War. And as my father used to say: every war that has ever been fought has been fought about money. Economics rules. If you have it, you win. And if you don’t you lose. That’s what the serfs had to deal with in the Dark Ages, and that’s what the 99% have to deal with today. Maybe that castle did have a few scary ghosts.
Welcome to Rennes-le-Chateau! It was very exciting for me to finally visit this enigmatic location!
If any of you have read Dan Brown’s The Davinci Code, then you know where this post is headed. For those of you who haven’t, it’s worth a read. However, much of Brown’s source material came from one theory in particular – a theory chronicled in the non-fiction Davinci Code – a book entitled HolyBloodHolyGrail by British historians Leigh, Baigent, and Lincoln. Many of the places, characters, and themes that Brown used were lifted directly from the pages of Holy Blood Holy Grail. And like in any great work of fiction, those names and places were changed and altered for Brown’s purposes (in fact one of Brown’s characters, Leigh Teabing, is a blending of two of the authors’ names – Teabing is an anagram to Baigent).
Rural Location of Rennes-le-Chateau
In this article, I shall delve a bit into the truth behind the secrets of the Da Vinci Code. I won’t get too much into the specifics, but will just touch upon the tip of the proverbial iceberg where Brown got some of his ideas for his bestselling thriller. It all begins on top of a mysterious mountain in the south of France: Rennes-le-Chateau.
Beginning first as a prehistoric encampment and then a Roman colony, the mountaintop village and fortifications were situated within the wealthiest part of Gaul (present-day France, but inhabited by Celtic tribes during the Iron Age). It became an Visigoth town with about 30o people living in and around the area in the 6th and 7th centuries. And by the end of the Renaissance era, nothing remained but rubble. The present structures date to the 17th and 18th centuries, which is fine with me, because that is when our story begins…
The Church of Mary Magdalene in the village of Rennes-le-Chateau
The village church, dedicated to St. Mary Magdalene, had fallen into disrepair by the time a poor, local priest by the name of BerengerSauniere took over the parish and began renovating the buildings and grounds in 1887. Da Vinci Code fans will recognize the name Sauniere (the fictitious Jacques Sauniere was the murdered Louvre curator at the beginning of the story and GrandMaster to the even more fictitious Prioryof Sion). Where did a poor priest get the money to restore old buildings and build new ones in what essentially amounts to the middle of nowhere countryside? That is only one small part of the mystery.
Abbe Berenger Sauniere’s Final Resting Place
Legend states that while he was excavating, Sauniere discovered an ancient tomb containing the remains of someone very important along with documentation that could be potentially earth-shattering to the Church. Or perhaps he discovered the long-lost gold of the Knights Templar(the museum features an old worn down stone tablet featuring the Templar seal). Again, those of you who have read Dan Brown’s book know where this is going, so I can skip over all of the theories. Needless to say, regardless of what you believe, Sauniere did find something down there. Whether or not his “treasure” would alter the face of Christianity or not, he found enough to give him (the equivalentin today’s money) $500,000 that it would take to finish his construction plans and afford him the lavish lifestyle he enjoyed until his death in 1917 (for additional information, click here).
Sauniere decorated his small church in very distinct ways. It is unlike any church I have ever been to. Apparently, he used the statues, frescoes, and even the stations of the cross as a map to the truth – a visual, three-dimensional scavenger hunt to help guide future seekers to the knowledge he possessed. It is also interesting to note there is an undisturbed crypt beneath the altar. Nobody has been allowed access to excavate and no entrance has been discovered. Above this crypt is where the priest left his puzzle for us to decode.
The Actual Tombstone with the Cipher
The puzzle was taken directly from two sources written by Sauniere’s predecessors at the church. The first, Abbe Antoine Bigou had been given a great secret by the Lady d’Hautpoul de Blanchefort, who owned the property, in 1781. The priest placed a large gravestone on the Lady’s tomb into which he carved a cipher. Hidden within this cipher are instructions to locate this great secret. He died after passing along the secret to two other priests.
Eventually, the secret made its way down the line of succession to another father at Rennes-le-Chateau, Abbe Henri Boudet. He retrieved the tombstone, decoded the cipher, and with the knowledge he obtained, wrote a book called, The True Celtic Language and Stone Circle ofRennes–les–Bains. His work wasn’t well received so he devised a plan to immortalize what he had learned from Lady Hautpoul. It was this priest who personally selected Berenger Sauniere for the job at Rennes-le-Chateau.
The Entrance Pillar with Four Angels over a Devil
Sauniere was charged with maintaining this great secret so he took Boudet’s book and reinterpreted the map and key into his renovations of the church. Of note, as you walk into the entrance is a pedestal featuring four angels (looking in the four cardinal directions) with the initials BS in the middle and a phrase in Latin – Par ce signe tu le vaincras (By this sign shall ye conquer him). The angel in front is kneeling and pointing down to the figure of a devil, holding up the pillar itself (a very strange sight to see in a church, and it is said that the BS either stands for the two priests of Boudet and Sauniere or for the latter’s initials). But is the angel pointing to the devil or to the BS?
Uniquely Depicted Sermon on the Mount
Above the confessional in the rear of the church is a fresco of the Sermon on the Mount with a few obvious irregularities. To begin with, roses are strewn across the hillside (the rose is the symbol for the goddess, according the Dan Brown and other historians). Secondly, there is a woman with a baby in the crowd. Could this be Mary Magdalene with Jesus’ infant son in her arms? Thirdly, to the bottom right you can see the top part of a wooden pillar under which was found a phial that enabled the abbe to uncover the crypt beneath the church. Fourth, on the left side you can see the seal of Solomon in the form of a pink lily blossom. Finally, in the bottom center, there is a penitence bag with a hole in it. But what do all of these subtle clues imply?
Around the room, you will find statues of saints, specific saints chosen for a variety of reasons. There are six and when you draw lines between them you will see theStar of David (or if you’re a Brown fan, the blade and the chalice). If you skip the statue of Mary Magdalene (with her skull and open book by her feet), the other five spell out the letter M – for Mary Magdalene, or mother. If you put the names of those other saints Sauniere chose in order (skipping Magdalene), they spell out G-R-A-A-L (the French word for Grail) – and their lines point directly to where the priest positioned her statue.
Are they Stealing the Body of Christ?
Lastly, we must take a look at the combination of the altar and the StationsoftheCross. It is said that the clues in each station lead to buried treasure somewhere near the mountain. But of particular interest to me was the 14th station, in which men are depicted carrying the body of Christ into his tomb (one can see this imagery in every Catholic church in the world), however, something is different at Rennes-le-Chateau. In station 14, Mary Magdalene can be seen crying into the arms of someone else. The moon is high in the sky and it would have been highly unlikely that this event was carried out in the evening. Are the men carrying Jesus’ body into the tomb… or out of it?
Joseph holding Jesus… and Mary… holding Jesus…
I smell a conspiracy here. Turning immediately to my left, I find myself face to face with the craziest altar I’ve ever seen. It is topped by a dome of blue with sparkling stars. On either side, you will see statues of Joseph and Mary, yet each carry a baby Jesus. Why two? Were there two babies perhaps? Did Jesus have a brother? Was he a twin? The name Thomas means ‘twin‘. Maybe every mention of Thomas in the Bible is of Jesus’ twin brother… Who knows?
Mary Magdalene’s Altar where she Kneels before a Cross
The most striking though is the basrelief on the altar itself. It portrays Mary Magdalene praying in front of a cross, a skull sits are her feet, an open book next to her, and her fingers crossed at an odd angle. Additionally, she is staring up at a cross formed by two branches tied together (another twin reference… which one lived, which died?). Sauniere seems to be suggesting what Dan Brown learned of and ran with. Jesus and Mary Magdalene were married and had children (or perhaps if you stretch it even further, Jesus’ twin brother and Mary Magdalene were married and had children), and those children survived to carry his bloodline into the south of France.
The Tower Magdala, built by Sauniere and used as his Private Library (he also Died inside)
Remember, this information is merely the tip of the iceberg. There is so much more to learn about. I can’t tell you how much I have read on these subjects, but I’ll hesitate to weigh in as I only wanted to share the imagery in this magnificent and unique church with you. Think about the possibilities and make your own conclusions. At the very least, if you’re interested, pick up a copy of Holy Blood Holy Grail. I enjoyed reading it far more than the Da Vinci Code.
With an extra day off last weekend, Jen and I decided to take a leisurely and scenic drive through the French countryside. Here is some of what we saw, including the medieval city of Carcassonne (which has a board game named after it and was one of the shooting locations for the 1991 film: Robin Hood Prince of Thieves, starring Morgan Freeman, Kevin Costner, and Alan Rickman)…
Sunset on the beach in Biarritz
Docked boats in Biarritz
Church of St. Jacques le Majeur in Bidache
Bidache
Chateau du Gramont in Bidache
Church of St. Andre in Baigts-de-Béarn
Cemetery in Baigts-de-Béarn
Distant Church in Baigts-de-Béarn
Cathedral of St. Martin in Pau
Central Square in Tarbes
Jardin Massey in Tarbes
Chateau d’Aurignac, built by the Cathars circa. 1240
I have been in Spain for about a week now and my high school Spanish classes are slowly filtering back into the forefront of my mind (muchos gracias Senora Valentin). Jen even told me a few days ago how impressed she was with my ability to communicate with strangers (albeit with incorrect, incoherent, or non-existent grammar). So what is there to report so far?
Bull Runners in Pamplona having a post-run rest.
I suppose the first order of business would be to address the famous (or infamous) concept of the Siesta. I’m sure all of you have heard of it at one point or another, but essentially the Siesta is a midday nap. Yes, here in Espana, naps ain’t just for kindergartners anymore. Everyone of almost every age has taken culturally approved and condoned two to three hour breaks for meals and rests (around 1pm or 2pm), every day for the past seventy years.
What’s the point of such a rest? Well, for starters people used to work outdoors and when the temperatures became unbearable, they would take breaks. They would also work later to compensate. That habit led to late night socializing, and has since become the cultural phenomenon that it is today. Many experts will tell you that humans have a biological need for a nap in the middle of the day, however, the negative result of such a practice is that Spaniards end up working more hours than their counterparts in the rest of the European Union, yet at the same time, produce far less (and they get less sleep every night).
The biggest side effect of the Siesta is that late nights out have become the norm, even for the smallest of children. In fact, our Lonely Planet guidebook suggests that if you’re travelling with kids, you must get them adjusted to the late nights as quickly as possible so that they don’t miss anything (including the final meal of the day which isn’t typically eaten until 9pm or 10pm).
Put together, the Siesta in the afternoon coupled with the late nights out and about have drastically altered the business schedule as well. For example, most retail establishments don’t open their doors until 10am, but they close at 1pm for the Siesta and even though the break is supposed to only be a few hours, they won’t reopen their shops until after 5pm.
A Sampling of Pintxos (Tapas) in Spain
Restaurants have a different – and even crazier – schedule. If you get hungry between 11am and 4pm, you are good to go. However, if you find yourself needing a meal or a quick snack between 4pm and 8pm – good luck to you. All the restaurants close until the late night runs for tapas (pintxos, in Navarre). Getting stuck in the middle of the city with empty stomachs has already happened to us twice in a week.
I’m sure you can only imagine how difficult it must be to adjust your biological clock to this kind of schedule. I didn’t realize before we arrived, how much of a toll it would take on my body. I find myself getting tired (and hungry) at weird times. And until I began researching to write this article, I didn’t know exactly why. It all goes back to the Nazis… believe it or not. But we’ll get to that.
Color-Coded for your Convenience (Notice the positioning of the U.K. in relation to Spain)
How did Spain get themselves into such a confusing mess? One major reason: they’re in the wrong time zone and most of the citizenry doesn’t even know it. Geographically, the GreenwichMeridian cuts across Spain, putting Madrid (the capital city) in the same longitude as London, UK. But, the nation is an hour ahead of the Brits, Scots, and Irish.
The outcome is that the sun rises and sets later in Spain than in the rest of the continent. Even the longest days of the summer, the sun doesn’t come up before 7am, and in the winter it doesn’t rise oftentimes until after 9am (thanks to daylight savings time)! Which means the people – both workers and students – have to wake up in total darkness.
Every few years, news reports surface that Spain’s political and economic advisers want to change the time zone to coincide more with the U.K. and thus creating a longer span of daylight. Instead of the population eating at 2pm and 9pm, they’ll eat at 1pm and 8pm (the standard time most of the rest of Europe eats and takes breaks). Hence why retail establishments and schools don’t get going until 10am in most cases, however, for office workers who begin their day at 8:30am or 9am, the lunch Siesta is a long way off. They need a coffee break in the middle of the morning as well – and why everyone must work even later in the evenings.
Siestas… Siestas… Siestas…
Franco Meets Hitler in 1940
Changing the time zone to where it is geographically appropriate would have a huge benefit and cost the workforce practically nothing. They would gain so much in the way of energy and efficiency. Now, let’s get back to those damn Nazis. The year was 1942 and Spain’s dictator, General Francisco Franco wanted to show Hitler, his fascist ally, his support. Therefore, in an often criticized and bewildering move, he altered the time zone to coincide with Germany’s. And there it has remained ever since.
In history classrooms in the United States, Spain’s role in WWII is marginalized, but the totalitarian regime under Franco did a lot of damage to the people on the Iberian Peninsula in much the same ways Hitler did in central Europe (thanks to a lot of financial and military support from Germany, Italy, and even Russia). I won’t go into it now, but there were concentration camps and executions in addition to his time zone change. The combination of these events made Spain an international pariah and halted their inclusion in the U.N. and NATO following the ending of the war.
Which brings me to the end of my first blog from Spain. I hope you enjoyed reading it and having me back online again. I’m now six hours ahead of the Eastern states, so I’ll try and post them when you’re waking up in the mornings to read over your coffee, tea, or other hot beverages. And in the meantime, I will adjust the rest of my biological clock to sleeping and eating when it’s culturally appropriate here with the Spaniards.
Well, here I am again and another year has gone by. Happens to us all. But for me, as I live one year at a time, hopping from job to job, from country to country, this time of year means a reflection back on all that has happened to me and all that I have learned from immersing myself into a new culture in a new place with new people. As I prepare my own personal journey to the west for the summer, I thought I would share one of my souvenirs with my readers.
I have never been one to gravitate toward souvenirs, in fact I’m pretty much the anti-pack rat – throwing away as much of my ‘stuff’ as I can so that I can live lightly and (more importantly) travel lightly. Typically, I carry around my digital SLR and simply take photos that I hope to someday print and frame to hang around my home, reminding me of all my experiences. Until then, I was content to bring home only that which I brought. Until my wife, who is addicted to souvenirs, got me thinking about one in particular that I really wanted to have.
What My Future Study May Resemble (If I have anything to say about it)…
As a writer (most other writers will commiserate on this with me), I often imagine myself sitting at a thick and polished desk of dark colored wood, seated in a comfortable leather chair in front of a warmly lit fireplace, surrounded by walls upon walls of old, leather-bound books on shelves that reach from floor to ceiling. For those of you familiar with Harry Potter, think Gryffindor common room; for those of you not, see the photo.
It will be in this ‘study’ that I will continue to compose my stories. The study will be comforting. The study will have an old-world feel to it (perhaps even containing one of those giant, brown globes with the continents drawn wrong). So what I need to do in the meantime, is begin to gather books to fill those shelves. In China, I collected one of my first, and trust me, it is aptly named.
There are fourgreatclassicalnovels of Chinese literature, masterpieces if you will, that all students learn and most of whom are forced to read. They are often regarded to be the most influential works of pre-modern Chinese fiction, dating from the Ming and Qing dynasties, and have been adapted hundreds of times into television shows, films, operas, and other media. Some are among the world’s longest and oldest novels.
Journey to the West, or Xi You Ji – by Wu Cheng’en
Obviously, I wanted one of these for my collection (although some of the Confuciuswritings were jockeying for first place, particularly the I Ching). Their titles are: Water Margin, Romance of the Three Kingdoms, Dream of the Red Chamber, and Journey to the West. I chose the latter because the subject matter appealed to me the most (if you would like to know more about the other three, I invite you to click the links after you finish reading my article).
Journey to the West was written by a man named Wu Cheng’en under the pen name Sheyang Hermit during the Ming Dynasty. He lived in Lianshui, near what is modern day Huai’an city (where Jen and I visited her family). At the time he wrote, the trend in Chinese writing was to imitate the very formal styles of the past. However, Wu went against this by writing his stories the way common people spoke. He first published Journey to the West (aka XīYóuJì) anonymously due to severe criticism of other “vulgar” literature written in the same style. It is for this reason that some people still debate the work’s authorship.
The Ancient Town near Huai’an where Cheng’en Lived…
The story tells of the legendary pilgrimage of a Buddhist monk who traveled to the western regions (present day India, Nepal, and Tibet), to obtain sacred texts (sutras). He experienced many trials and suffering before returning home to the eastern parts of China (another journey I took in February – I told you this blog was aptly named). The tale has strong roots in Chinese folk religion and mythology as well as incorporates Taoist and Buddhist philosophies. It is essentially the definitive work of Chinese adventure and fantasy (and allegory). My copy is handbound and written in Chinese traditional script from the top to bottom, as opposed to modern day Mandarin, which is read from left to right like English.
My Version Looks Something Like This…
In 1942, ArthurWaley translated Journey to the West into English for the first time. He named his version Monkey: A Folk-Tale of China and not only abridged the work, but also simplified it so that it would be much more digestible for a western audience. He translated only 30 of the original 100 chapters, but of those 30, he included them completely, only omitting lengthy sections of poetry. Humorously, he altered the characters’ names: Sun Wukong became Monkey, ZhuBajie became Pigsy, and ShaWujing became Sandy.
Waley’s translation was for years, the most popular version, and even now, English language books are hard to come by. If you would like to read a more detailed synopsis of the story (and I have to admit, I haven’t read it yet myself), or purchase an English version yourself, I’m sure you can search the Internet and find one or both (I still have to). In the meantime, I will be making my own journey west shortly and will hopefully see all of my loved ones, family, and friends over the summer.
Duanwu is the Chinese name for a summertime festival many of you across the world may be familiar with, as a great number of nations have adopted some of the traditions themselves. Duanwu occurs on the fifth day of the fifth month of the lunar calendar and is commonly known in the west as the DragonBoatFestival.
Dragon Boat Crews Preparing to Race on Duanwu
Most holidays and festivals take their cues from ancient practices and rites regarding the changing of the seasons and the cycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth associated with the sun. In the fall, I posted an article about the Mid-AutumnFestival here in China which corresponds to Chuseok in Korea and Thanksgiving in the Americas. Likewise, Duanwu is the Chinese equivalent of IndependenceDay in the US and other Midsummer Festivals around the globe (some of which call to mind a certain Elizabethan playwright).
For this festival, Jen and I traveled to the city of Huai’an for the last time to visit her family and share in their customs. We ate zongzi (sweetened rice dumplings wrapped in bamboo leaves and steamed to perfection) and exchanged five–coloredbracelets (typically reserved for children under 14) meant to ward off evil spirits. We enjoyed their company and even took a canal cruise to an ancient part of the city where one of China’s most famous novelists lived back in the 16th century.
Huai’an City in Jiangsu Province – Hometown to some of Jen’s ‘In-Laws’
To our dismay, there weren’t actually any dragon boat races in Huai’an (though we did take a nice leisurely boat ride down the grand canal that connects Beijing to Hangzhou). The races only occur where rivers are widest (and not in canals), so towns send a single crewed boat to represent them in regional races across the country. The dragon boat looks much like that of a collegiate rowing boat with the addition of a colorful and ornately carved dragon head at the front. The crew consists of 20 paddlers, 1 drummer (to maintain tempo), and 1 sweep (to steer) and the boats can vary in length and type of wood.
The races are very competitive, their crews training year round for a single race on this single day. The Duanwu race is a sprint of 500 meters (though some regions choose 1000 or 2000 instead), during which teams must complete two loops that includes three 180 degree turns. Occasionally, regions will decide to host long distance endurance race events, which may cover as many as 100 kilometers. Spectators drive in from all over to cheer on their favorite boat crew.
Jen Pretending to be a Dragon (she doesn’t have to work too hard)…
In the United States and Canada, dragon boat races are held in many major cities, including Philadelphia. Every day, along the SchuylkillRiver, crews practice and race. For those of you not from the area, you can drive along I-76 and see the many boathouses, known as BoathouseRow, where local colleges and universities store their boats and racing gear. But during Duanwu, the dragon boats come out to play as well.
Dragon Boats in Action!
The Schuylkill Dragons are an all women’s dragon boat racing team founded in 2001, and they’re not the only ones. The Philadelphia International Dragon Boat Festival hosts dozens of teams and has for dozens of years. I, for one, cannot wait to be back home during one of the races so that I can attend and cheer on the crews myself (something I didn’t get to do while in China).
Nope! I don’t mean running around outside an idling car at a red light. I do mean irrationality, confusion, and panic; three words synonymous with the nation of China. The country has so many rules and regulations that their rules and regulations have rules and regulations. Additionally, many people subscribe to a vast array of superstitions too. Between the Communist Party and thousands of years of cultural development, the mainland can feel very alien to any westerners who step foot on their soil for longer than a two-week vacation. These are some of the stories…
#1 – Fireworks
I’m going to go out on a limb and state plainly that everyone reading this knows what fireworks are. They were invented by the Chinese (along with gunpowder – one of the four great inventions) back in the 7th century (the ratio of chemicals in the mixture hasn’t changed since that time). Now, for my American readers, fireworks signify freedom as they are commonly used as the climax to our IndependenceDay celebrations in the middle of summer, when millions of people gather in parks, on front lawns, and in the streets (coastal residents on beaches) to witness the visual spectacle that are the multicolored flashes exploding high over our heads in the night sky.
They Rarely Look Like This…
But what might be interesting to learn about the Chinese is that they seem to care little for how fireworks look. What concerns them is how they sound. Furthermore, while they are typically sounded for good luck, they are also sounded to ward off evil spirits at any time of day, even when the sun’s high in the sky. Fireworks in modern China are used multiple times in a day, from the largest metropolises to the smallest villages to commemorate small business openings, funerals, weddings, and other celebratory occasions.
So when we are trying to sleep in the middle of the night (at 3 am) or even in the middle of the morning (at 8 am) and we hear some snaps, crackles, and bangs outside our windows, you can bet your bottom dollar the Chinese are at it again (even on random Tuesdays), warding off evil spirits with their gunpowder fire-crackers.
#2 – In the Line of Fire
When living overseas, it’s important to keep abreast of local laws so as to not find yourself sitting on the opposite side of a policeman’s desk, awaiting an interrogation. Life in a foreign country can be very scary, however, keeping your head down, going about your business, and knowing the lay of the land will pay back your efforts tenfold. Recently, Jen and I found ourselves face-to-face with a situation just like this.
Waiting for the Paperwork to be Completed…
It all began with our trip to India and Nepal (2 months after we left, the Kathmandu Valley was all but destroyed in a massive earthquake) in February. We returned to China without too much aggravation and began working a few days later. Unbeknownst to us, we were committing a felony. The back story is that the school we work for is part of a larger company; that company, has permission from the local and federal governments to employ and house foreigners in certain designated areas. The school isn’t located in one of these designated areas so for the first five months of our contracts, we were living somewhere we weren’t supposed to be. And the authorities were completely unaware.
So by the time they caught up to us, we found ourselves in some pretty hot water, and the police wanted to “teach us a lesson”. We were summoned to the police station in Wujiang (45 minutes from where we live, and no big deal to the cops since they assumed we were living a mere five blocks away). Apparently, there’s a law on the books…
Order of the President of the People’s Republic of China No. 57. Article 39 states, “For foreigners who reside or stay in domiciles other than hotels, they or the persons who accommodate them shall, within 24 hours after the foreigners arrival, go through the registration formalities with the public security office in the places of said residences.”
The school, specifically the woman who recruited us to work here, casually mentioned her want of our passports for something she failed to disclose. What’s more is that she didn’t disclose the importance of this action. We had no idea that we were breaking any laws, and she didn’t bother telling us. Adding insult to injury, once we arrived at the police station, we found out she had already lied to them about the reason we hadn’t registered our return. Caring more about her job than ours, she covered her own ass and left us in the middle of the proverbial street to be thrown under the bus!
The Paperwork – Now that that’s Clear and Straightened Out…
In order for the school to not get fined and in other sorts of trouble, she ordered us to fall on the sword for her (how many cliches can I fit into one blog entry?). We agreed until we realized the police had produced a written document reporting what we had said. It was their version of a sworn affidavit! And we essentially perjured ourselves to keep this woman out of trouble. You can imagine how livid I became at that. Anyway, the moral of the story is: know the laws before you get there. Obviously you cannot learn them all, but you can make an effort to know the important ones, and the rest of your time, just do your job and get home.
#3 – Firewalls
Finally, it should be of no great surprise that as a communist country, China restricts the flow of information into and out of their mainland. Foreigners living abroad care very much about communicating with friends and family members at home, but also checking their favorite websites (news, social media, or otherwise) for a variety of reasons. Staying connected just helps to ease the homesickness.
At any rate, the Chinese government has been diligently working to increase the security of their own multimedia including but not limited to the internet. CCTV, for example stands for China Central Television, but it might as well stand for what the acronym implies in the western world: Closed-Circuit Television as the government dictates which programs, foreign and domestic, are allowed to be shown and which get blocked. The world wide web cannot escape this fate either.
Within the past year, the firewalls within China have tripled their effectiveness such that any site with even a link to Facebook is rerouted to a dummy page, and thus frustrating the user. However, last month China switched from defense to offense with the launch of their Great Cannon a supplement to their aptly named Great Firewall. Essentially, the Great Cannon fires back at any websites trying to bypass they nation’s online censorship.
The Great Flow Chart
The cannon steers traffic of individual users, halting their browsers from loading certain pages (similar to a firewall) including the New York Times, but wait… there’s more. The cannon allows the government to pick and choose which organizations to target, specifically those who attempt to “hostile” sites that report on corruption in China’s government, or simply disagree with their practices. The idea is to stop the infiltration of western ethics on an unknowing Chinese population.
The scariest part isn’t that the user himself is being used as a weapon, but that if China decides to use their cannon for more sinister motives, they could (for all intents and purposes) launch an attack on a major U.S. website during a critical time or event, election day for example (one made by U.S. News and World Report in an article last month). If you haven’t heard from us in a while (particularly on social media), this is the reason, and I, for one, will be very glad to be leaving the People’s Republic next month.
I remember studying China in middle school social studies class (circa 1993) and learning about a national policy there very different from any that exist in the United States. Maybe it was my proclivity for reading Dystopian science-fiction like 1984 and BraveNewWorld, but China seemed like something from another planet, not just halfway around this one.
Chinese Propaganda for the One-Child Policy
What I didn’t realize at the time, however, was how recent this policy had been enacted. My 13 year old self must have assumed China had always had crazy laws on the books. Their One–ChildPolicy didn’t take effect until 1989, only a few short years before I had first heard about it. I didn’t know that much about it then, and living in China didn’t teach me that much more (so I’m sure my American readers don’t completely have a handle on it). So I took it upon myself to talk to people and research more into this weird method of government sanctioned population control.
Also known as the family planning policy, the law itself isn’t labeled quite correctly, as there are many exceptions to the rule. It goes back to ChairmanMao who believed that population growth empowered the country and thus the government encouraged families to have as many children as possible between the years of 1948 and 1970. Due to increased life expectancy and declining infant mortality, China’s population skyrocketed during this period – also known as the CulturalRevolution – and in the 70s, the State changed its tune, telling its citizens to stick to only one or two children (but without any official laws on the books).
“Millions of Hearts with One Mind” (and one child)…
Officially, the one-child policy (meant to curb the explosion of new births and economic strain on the nation’s resources) was supposed to last only one generation. It has been extended through the current generation and will probably continue into the future. However, the policy has many nuances that many outsiders don’t completely understand, though would-be Chinese parents seem to know them inside and out (Jen and I had many questions particularly regarding fertility treatments, contraception, and penalties for having additional children without government permission). Here are some of the bullet points:
36% are subject to the strictest interpretation of one-child.
53% are allowed to have a second child if the first was female (ultra-sounds to determine the gender of a fetus are illegal since during the 1990s, parents would abort females in favor of their one-child being male, this practice still continues today in rural areas and is very much illegal).
If both parents were raised in one-child households, they are allowed to have two children.
In rural areas, families are allowed to have two children.
If their first child is born with a physical disability or mental illness, the parents are allowed to have a second child.
If both parents have advanced degrees (Masters, Doctorate), they are allowed to have two children.
Ethnic minorities are not subject to any birth limits (there are dozens of ethnicities within what westerners refer to as ‘Chinese’).
The Rise of Man-made, Chinese Twins…
If an urban located family of the Han ethnic group has more than one child without the permission of the government they are subject to a fine for every infraction. The fine – which is known as the socialmaintenancefee – amounts to $15,000 USD per child! Many of the wealthiest Chinese families can afford to do this, while others simply visit the fertility clinic and pay the doctors instead so that they may give birth to twins or triplets (there is no penalty for multiple births and the number of twins born per year doubled between 1990 and 2006).
Some Chinese citizens are getting creative with their outside the box thinking. Because the United States practices birthrightcitizenship, any child born on US soil is a US citizen. The small island of Saipan in the NorthernMarianaIslands is a US territory that has seen a huge upswing in the birthrate of Chinese nationals. The practice of moving to another country to give birth is called BirthTourism, but you may be more familiar with the term, AnchorBabies (for decades pregnant Mexicans have been crossing the border to give their families a better life). The benefit with this plan is that the second (or third, or fourth) child born to Chinese parents while overseas will not be a citizen China. The government can’t really do much about that.
Unlike in America, birth control is readily available in every corner pharmacy at an extremely low cost to the individual, and abortions run rampant. A month supply of standard oral pills runs about $2.50 USD. And since the Chinese government isn’t quite like the Party in 1984, they don’t forbid or discourage acts of sexual congress. They understand people are going to have sex, but sex doesn’t need to result in unwanted pregnancies (25% of China’s 10 million annual abortions were performed on young, unmarried women).
Not-quite-so-little Emperor…
Getting back on topic, one of the results of the one-child policy is both a social and psychological issue known colloquially as ‘littleemperors’. Essentially, parents who only have one chance to get it right, over-indulge their only child (I prefer to use the term spoil the crap out of, but hey, I’m trying to be PC here). The effects of the child’s (and the nation’s as a whole) social paradigm with an entire generation (or two at this point) who suffer from poor social communicationandcooperationskills (and these are the kids we’re teaching).
It is evident that by solving one problem, the government has created other, unforeseen issues as often happens. Hopefully, great minds will come together and solve these as well. Moving into the future, one of the most important hot-button issues will deal with global population and resource management. And the People’s Republic of China, as the world’s factory, will rise to front and center of this debate.
For a long time, I struggled with how to write this entry. That is the primary reason why it will be the fifth and final blog about our honeymoon in India and Nepal. Previously, my opinion was simple: I hated visiting India. However, upon further reflection, I realized that wasn’t entirely true. I didn’t hate it. The trip just wasn’t relaxing (in any way) or as enjoyable as other vacations I’d taken up to that point. The single adjective I’d use to describe the way I felt during my stay is overwhelming.
Sleeping on the Street, an All-too Common Sight in India
Going to India is quite an eye-opening experience, but it is stressful. It is one of the poorest countries and that poverty drives its citizens to do everything they can fathom to earn a living (albeit not always a very honest one), and even worse, forces them to sleep on sidewalks under tarps (you actually pass through their living rooms and kitchens as you walk).
It is one of the dirtiest countries and that filth keeps visitors on edge whether it be from the threat of contracting malaria or denguefever from one of the thousands of mosquitoes or some food borne illness or parasite, obtained by drinking contaminated water (Some very dishonest people will actually reuse uncrushed water bottles, filling them up with tap water and resealing the lid to sell as ‘spring’ water).
Yes, People Actually Live this Way…
Additionally, tourists are prey to scammers and touts; unscrupulous men who drive motorized rickshaws or work in forgery ‘Tourist Information Centers’ and do their best to pry extra rupees from your wallet for their services and advice.
For example, you head to the train station to purchase a ticket to another city. While on the way, your driver explains that the station is closed due to some unknown festival or holiday and tickets cannot be bought there. However – lucky you – the driver knows a guy who can help and offers to take you there for a few extra measly rupees. You agree and find yourself on the other side of a desk from a well-dressed man who authorizes the purchase of deluxe tickets for you and your party. Sure, the tickets are a bit pricier, but he assures you they’re worth it; foreigners don’t want the third class, cramped conditions of a regular ticket.
He smiles as he takes your money off your hands. You smile as you leave, thank your driver and even tip him a bit extra. But the next morning, when you arrive at the train station to board, you learn the hard way that your tickets are indeed for third class and you’re crammed in with all the other Indians who cannot afford a deluxe ticket. The ‘Tourist Information Center’ pocketed the profits from their scam and only bought you standard tickets.
The guidebooks all warn about these scams, and the educated traveler knows prior to arrival, but knowing and experiencing are two different beasts. It still makes for one intense holiday. However, in spite of the poverty, filth, and scams, there are quite a few hidden gems to see if you choose to visit this vast nation. One such gem is the food. Don’t worry, this won’t be a food blog, but I’d be remiss if it wasn’t mentioned. Americans typically either love or hate Indian food. I fall into the former category and thanks to the inexpensive and wonderfully prepared dishes, Jen and I were able to sample a great variety of sauces and spices our palettes had never tried before. Truly delectable!
A View to a Tomb (Notice the ‘Slums’ in the Foreground)
India is famous for one very unique and exquisite Diamond in the Rough (as was put by the CaveofWonders in Disney’sAladdin) and that diamond doesn’t disappoint. Do not go to the Subcontinent and miss an opportunity to visit the TajMahal. The sheer beauty and magnificence of this building and the surrounding gardens and grounds exceeded every single one of my expectations and I found myself relaxed for the first (and only) time during the Indian leg of our honeymoon. In that regard, the Taj Mahal was more enjoyable than the GreatPyramids during our trip to Cairo, Egypt last year.
Located approximately three hours southeast of Delhi, the city of Agra is just outside the province of Rajasthan, and one point on the ‘GoldenTriangle’ – India’s major draw for tourists. Rajasthan translates to ‘Land ofKings’ due to its long, turbulent history of cross-cultural conquering. The entire region, including the capital city of Delhi, is littered with temples, palaces, tombs, forts, and ancient bazaars – all of which sprang up during various centuries throughout the past five thousand years.
I will resist the urge to risk potentially boring my readers with a history lesson, but suffice it to say the Taj Mahal was completed in 1653 (almost 20 years after initial construction began) by EmperorShahJahan for his beloved third wife (who died while giving birth to his 14th child – perhaps he should have stopped at 13). Unfortunately, he didn’t stick around to enjoy it much as he was overthrown by his son, Aurangzeb, and imprisoned in the less-famous AgraFort, located across the Yamuna River (where he was only able to view his masterpiece of white marble from a considerable distance). When Shah Jahan passed away (only 8 years later), Aurangzeb was kind enough to bury his father inside the Taj Mahal.
Jen Posing in her Saree before the Taj Mahal
Agra itself is a city in the loosest sense of the word, filled with dusty and winding streets, squatty and flat-roofed mud and brick huts, and people bathing, living, eating, and defecating alongside animals (all doing the same) and piles upon piles of garbage. Around and inside the Kinari Bazaar, busy shopkeepers shout in Hindi, wild monkeys steal your snacks right from your grasp, and pickpockets weave in and out of tightly packed crowds. It certainly makes you feel a bit like Indiana Jones – and all you wanted to do was buy your wife a souvenir saree!
And in this setting you’ll find the Taj Mahal, situated on the far edge between the city and the river. Its glorious marble dome and minarets rise up from the soot and grime like angels reaching up to the heavens themselves. Contrary to popular rumors, the Taj Mahal is not sinking, nor is it a Hindu temple, and Shah Jahan had no plans to build a black ‘mirror image’ Taj on the opposite side of the Yamuna. Rudyard Kipling called it the ‘embodimentofallthingspure’, and it has also been described as a teardrop on the face of eternity.
These poetic statements of praise are not exaggerations. The Taj Mahal is an architectural work of art, as are the surrounding gardens. One might spend hours strolling around the grounds, meandering through the tree-lined walkways or perhaps snuggled on a bench with a loved one. Regardless of how visits are typically spent, few (if any) leave disappointed. Outside the gated walls, you can find impeccable views of the Taj Mahal from various rooftop cafes scattered around the Taj Ganj neighborhood. Or, if you’re brave enough, a look from the southern banks of the river, where for a small fee, a boat hand will row you out for a great photo-op, particularly at sunset.
The Sun Sets on Another Day in Agra
The world’s most beautiful building became a World Heritage Site in 1983 and for the past 30 years has become a major source of income for Agra (tourism), and it looks as pristine today as when it was first constructed. The photographs speak for themselves, but they do not do it justice. As I said earlier, you cannot miss the Taj Mahal on any trip to any part of the Subcontinent; it is India’s one and only Diamond in the Rough.
Perhaps the most interesting aspect about the Subcontinent is the religion; not just one, but a high prevalence of many different ones. In both Nepal and India, various faiths not only coexist peacefully, but bleed together, borrowing from each other’s beliefs and sharing festival celebrations and temples. No less than a half dozen very different religions were born in the region including: Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, Sikhism, ISKCON, and many others. Additionally, one can find Islam and Christianity in the mix.
Buddhism – Some argue that Buddhism isn’t really a religion at all. That would depend on your personal definition of religion. Personally, I believe that it is – albeit one with a nontheistic (nogod) belief structure. Buddists from India to Japan believe in Dharma, or ‘the right way to live’, a concept based upon the teaching of the historical ‘living’ Buddha, PrinceSiddharthaGuatama (the awakened one) who was born of the Shakya caste in a town located in present-day Nepal.
Buddhist Monks Circumnavigating a Stupa; Note the Prayer Wheels (Nepal)
According to tradition, Siddhartha lived and taught in the eastern part of India between the 6th and 4th centuries BC (orBCE). In spite of the local origin of the historical Buddha, only 10% of Nepali people practice Buddhism (most of whom are Tibetan or Burmese refugees, spreading the practice not only to Nepal, but across the Western world as well). In Nepal’s hills and mountains, Hinduism has absorbed many Buddhist tenets as I mentioned above.
Many of you have perhaps heard of the DalaiLama. The current (14th) is TenzinGyatso who’s been in the position since 1950 (the longest running in history) at the ripe age of 15. During the 1959 Tibetan uprising, he fled to India and denounced the People’s Republic of China. He also established the nongovernmental CentralTibetanAdministration and advocated tirelessly for Tibetans living both in and outside of the Tibet Autonomous Region. It is worth mentioning that this head Buddhist monk won the NobelPeacePrize in 1989 for the struggle of the liberation of Tibet and the efforts for a peaceful resolution.
Jainism – Jainism prescribes a path of non-violence toward all living beings. Believers can obtain liberation through self-control of the five major vows: pacifism, honesty, chastity, non-stealing, and non-attachment. It is one of the oldest religions in the world (and currently the smallest of the major world religions), generally tracing their history through 24 propagators of the faith (knownastirthankaras), ending with Mahavira (a contemporary to the historical Buddha).
Jain Temple in Kolkata, India
The faiths shares many similarities to Buddhism and use much of the same terminology (for instance, followers of both religions must be strict vegetarians as taking any life is forbidden). The major difference is that while Buddhism has been spread to other Asian countries, Jainism has been largely confined to India, although smaller immigrant communities exist in the US, Canada, the UK, and Kenya. The major symbol of Jainism (adopted and corrupted by the Nazis in the 1930s) is the swastika.
Likewise, Jainism has built its history around the Hindu epics and traditions (including karma and reincarnation), creating a faith that bridges gaps between the other two. This has aided the Jains in assimilating with the surrounding Hindu society in India, due to fear of persecution. Their clergy (for lack of a better word) has even allowed this integration and participation in Hindu customs and rituals, providing the said customs don’t infringe upon the basic principles of Jainism.
Sikhism – Sikhism is monotheistic and India’s fourth-largest religion (fifth-largest in the world). It has existed for over 500 years (in this writer’s opinion, the Sikhs are also the friendliest and most generous of India’s population). It is the duty of all Sikhs to engage in personal as well as communal meditation and study of their holy book, the GuruGranthSahib, the central teaching of which is the concept of oneness with (a non-gender specific) God (known as the ‘Constant’, a very different idea than in any other religion). The faith considers spiritual and secular life intertwined and unable to be separated. They believe all religious traditions are equally valid and capable of enlightening their followers.
Sikh Musicians Aiding Meditation at the Gurdwara Bangla Sahib in Delhi, India
Like Jainism, Sikhism adheres to the self-control over the FiveThieves – Ego, Anger, Greed, Attachment, and Lust. A Sikh can be identified by the unique style in which they fold their turbans. Their place of worship is called the Gurdwara; people of all faiths are welcome and free food is served in the Langar, or kitchen (they also contain libraries, nurseries, and classrooms). We were fortunate to have visited one during our stay in Delhi, and were so impressed that I could compose an entire entry just on the Sikh people and their beliefs.
When I think about their faith and how they practice it, I feel that all other world faiths have been aspiring to Sikhism for thousands of years. They believe in Sewa – service to community and to God – and Simran – remembrance of God. A few prohibitions exist in their faith; for example, Sikhs cannot cut their hair (the only silly one), consume alcohol, care about material wealth, sacrifice any creatures, have extra-marital affairs, live as monks, hermits, or recluses, and engage in ‘worthless talk’ (bragging, lying, slander, and even back-stabbing).
Hinduism – The dominant form of religion on the Subcontinent, with over 80% of the population identifying themselves with it, is Hinduism (about 1 billion followers). Unlike their Western counterparts, Hindus believe in many, many, many gods (over 11,000 to be precise, although most are simply alternate forms of the half-dozen major ones). It is one of the oldest religions, and while its believers subscribe to karma and dharma, most points of view are intellectual and philosophical rather than a set of rigid rules and regulations set in stone (take that Moses!).
Lakshmi Narayan Hindu Temple in Delhi, India
The term Hindu developed out of geographic origins as the Persian word for the people who lived in the northwestern part of the Subcontinent, across the IndusRiver. By the 13th century, Hindustan emerged as a popular word for the nation of India, meaning the ‘land of Hindus’. Hinduism has been spread all over the world by proponents of the faith, including Swami Vivekananda in the late 19th century, who brought Vedanta and Yoga to Europe and America. He believed that the divine exists in all beings; even non-Indians (who traditionally believe people are either born Hindu or something else) have the ability to reach Nirvana.
Some Hindu practitioners refer to it as ‘the eternal law’, which is beyond human origins. Like the number of gods and goddesses, Hinduism features a plethora of holy texts and scriptures. You may have heard of some of these including the Vedas and the BhagavadGita. This is another religion with so much information, I could write an entire article about it (if you want to learn more, I encourage all my readers to click the various links I have embedded in the text).
Manakamana Temple (Nepal)
Most Hindus practice vegetarianism, although those who do eat meat, steer clear of cows. One such sect in Bali and Nepal, the Shaktas, practice animal sacrifice to the dismay of the majority of modern Hindus. Shaktism focuses on the worship of the divine mother as the absolute godhead. Cults of goddess worship have existed in this region for tens of thousands of years. Some forms of the goddess are gentle while others are fierce, and the Shaktas actually try and call forth cosmic forces using ‘real’ magic.
(SPOILER ALERT! Graphic Photograhy Ahead! For those of you with weak stomachs [or children], you may want to stop reading here.)
One such place of worship is the ManakamanaTemple in Nepal, located atop a high mountain peak (above even the clouds), and dedicated to the Hindu Goddess Bhagwati – an incarnation of Parvati. The temple’s name roughly translates to mean ‘your heart’s desire’. Visitors come from all over Nepal and India to have the goddess grant their wishes (most of whom are newlyweds seeking a male offspring). The trek itself was a daunting feat, particularly before the advent of the cable car that takes worshipers and tourists to the top within minutes (for a small fee).
A Volunteer Sweeps up a River of Blood Between Ritual Sacrifices
What sets this temple apart from every single other we visited during our trip was this: the stones in the pavement surrounding the building ran red with the blood of the animals sacrificed to ensure successful granting of people’s wishes. The scene was both fascinating and disgusting. Goats and roosters (all offerings must be male only) could be found along the streets awaiting purchase (if people brought their own, they were made to buy a one-way ticket up the cable car for their animal). Jen and I watched in awestruck horror as two water buffalo were ritually sacrificed in the customary style (decapitated with a single machete blow across the back of the neck – a practice called Jhatka). The spots of blood on my shoes will never come out.
A Post-Jhatka Water Buffalo (We Didn’t Name Him)…
Of course, watching wasn’t enough for Jen. She needed to participate. And so we bought our own goat and led the innocent creature to its slaughter. Bhairav is the the HinduGodofDestruction, and thus a very appropriate name for our goat (yes, we named him). Baaah-rav, lol. So we took our goat to the temple, had him blessed, and then escorted him around back to a big, fat man with fur and congealing blood stuck to his bare feet. Before we realized what was happening (the quickness of the moment astounded both of us), Bhairav was headless, red blood flowed like a river out of his neck wound and his little legs twitched with the residual energy still remaining in his central nervous system.
A Row of Goat Carcasses Waiting to be Gutted During the Cleaning Process
The obese executioner hoisted the carcass by the legs, and with outstretched arms, dropped it into the plastic bag Jen was holding (I refused to take part in this ritual, Jen led the goat to the temple, and carried the body away afterward). Following Bhairav’s needless death, we brought the corpse down a flight of stairs and into the worst smelling room I’ve ever been in; a handful of women crouched in filth, cleaning goats, roosters, and buffalo bodies (they removed the fur, tied the gizzards together, and boiled the skin), while a couple men blow-torched a pile of heads on a large, flat grill.
An hour later, we picked up what was left of our pet goat and paid about 3 bucks for a butcher to carve it up for our convenience. With a bag full of mutton, we bid a fond farewell to Manakamana Temple and descended the mountain in our cable car for the 3 hour drive back to Kathmandu.
Yep, One can Actually Sacrifice a Coconut (We Shared that as well)…
And just so you don’t think we’re completely and utterly heartless, the goat meat was eaten and not wasted. We gifted it to the hotel staff who prepared a lovely meal for us to partake of together (we also shared the coconut that I sacrificed – and Jen’s the vegetarian!).
Thinking back on the experience still turns my stomach: an innocent, baby animal was decapitated on our behalf for a sacrifice to a goddess we don’t believe in. I may have to just give up eating meat altogether.
Cultures all over the world have many interesting and unique traditions. Nepal was no different. Probably the most unique of these customs is one I would wager 99% of the globe’s population outside the city of Kathmandu has never even heard before. That, my friends, is of the Kumari.
The Current Kumari – Matina Shakya, who began her reign in 2008
The Kumari, or KumariDevi (meaning virgin), is a young girl chosen between the ages of 3 and 5 who undergoes a series of qualifying tests. If you’re familiar with the caste system in the Hindu religion, the girl must be selected from the Shakya clan (ironically a Buddhist sect; the lines between faiths blur in India and Nepal) within the Newari community (traditionally a family lineage containing jewelers and Buddhist monks, including the famous historical Buddha, Prince Siddhartha). You may be scratching your head at this point. What is this little girl chosen for?
Her purpose is to fulfill a legend and become the vessel of a living goddess; and there is actually more than one (Patan and Bhaktapur have their own, but Kathmandu’s is the official RoyalKumari). She is believed to be the incarnation of TalejuBhavani, or Durga, who is the Hindu goddess of victory of good over evil. Although this practice is relatively recent, the tradition of virgin worship in Nepal dates back over 2,000 years (about the same in Christendom too – Virgin Mary ringing any bells?).
The tale goes like this…
King Jayaprakash Malla with the Goddess Taleju Bhavani
The last Nepalese king of the MallaDynasty (12th-17th century), a man named Jayaprakash, apparently met with the goddess Taleju nightly over a game of dice (or chess) and to discuss matters of state and ask her for advice. Her only condition: he refrain from telling anybody at all about these meetings, including his wife, the queen. One night, the king’s wife – who had been growing increasingly suspicious of her husband’s behavior – followed him to his rendezvous with the goddess with the hope of outing his infidelity. Instead, she only succeeded in angering the goddess, who ‘broke up’ with the king. She left him with the instructions that if he ever wanted to see her again, he needed to look for her reincarnation as a little girl. To make his amends, the king left the palace to search for the one who possessed the goddess’ spirit.
And the seemingly pointless tradition of the Kumari began.
Durbar Square, Kathmandu Nepal
Once the Kumari is hand-picked (based on 32 perfections of a goddess including a ‘body like a banyan tree’, ‘thighs like a deer’, and ‘a voice as clear as a duck’), she is whisked away to live in seclusion, at the KumariGhar or Che (a house on the edge of DurbarSquare in Kathmandu), until reaching puberty. Additionally, she must prove herself calm in the face of fear and have never participated in any of the customary Nepali ceremonies of pre-pubescent marriage (like to a piece of fruit, called the ihi). When puberty officially hits, the girl is dethroned and the search for a new Kumari begins. The 12 or 13 year old ex-goddess is returned to her family. But what does this living goddess do while serving her country (previouslyherking) and her faith? What are her responsibilities? And why does this practice even exist to begin with?
With a position primarily ceremonial, the girl is only allowed out of her domicile for festivals and visits to the palace (only a short jaunt across the chowk or street, her feet cannot touch the ground so she’s carried around on a palanquin) to advise the king (although with the demise of the Nepalese monarchy in 2008, palace sojourns have all but been abolished). The living goddess always wears red and has a thirdeye painted on her forehead as a symbol of her special powers of perception.
Most of the time, her life isn’t glamourous at all. She’s given friends to play with, but they’re typically the offspring of her caretakers (mainly aunts, uncles, and cousins of her caste) and are 100% deferential to her needs, wants, and whims. Basically, she snaps her fingers and they say ‘sure’. Believers petition for the opportunity to visit her, kiss her feet, and ask for her blessings. Most seem to be mothers with sick children (and journalists). She’s also joined once daily by a priest who worships her (called the Puja) as the goddess she’s supposed to be (or just represent).
The Kumari Che Courtyard (the top, middle window is for her public ‘appearances’)
Her most outwardly visible duties happen twice daily. She appears in her third story window – overlooking her inner courtyard – for only about 10-30 seconds (once usually between 9am-noon and again between 4pm-6pm). Jen and I were very fortunate to have stumbled into the Kumari Ghar just as she was preparing to stare stoically down to the meager gathering of on-lookers and tourists (they’re not allowed to smile or cry). Her ‘power’ is perceived to be so strong that to glimpse her face will bring the viewer good fortune for life. Heh, heh, heh…
All this good luck must have a balance, right? The gossip ‘round the campfire is that the men who marry ex-Kumaris are cursed. Some have suddenly died; weird and inexplicable circumstances surround these deaths. However, this writer believes the bad luck has less to do with lifespan and more to do with the fact that these men have voluntarily chosen to wed the most stuck-up, rotten girls on the planet (the Kumari never has to lift a single finger to take care of her material or physical needs – heck, I’m not even sure they wipe their own asses). You’ve heard the term spoiled princess? Well this could be even worse: spoiled goddess. Think about it (it isn’t their fault, but still…).
Rashmila Shakya as a Normal Nepali Woman
In the past, the Kumari received little to no education or socialization (goddesses already know everything, right?), condemning the girls to lives of ineptitude. Due to the efforts of some of the contemporary, living ex-Kumaris, the Nepali government has enacted both educational tutoring programs for the Kumari while they serve, as well as a monthly stipend, or pension plan, upon completion of their term. The most recent few retired Kumaris have experienced little to no hiccup during the reintroduction back into society (RashmilaShakya, who held the position between 1984-1991, even obtained a college degree in software engineering and wrote her memoirs… plus she’s actually very well-adjusted).
I can see you’re still asking why. The truth is that this is merely a Nepali tradition; little more than a cultural sideshow and tourist attraction. If you truly believe a young pre-pubescent girl can be the living reincarnation of a Hindu goddess, then sure – there’s your purpose. If not, however, I’m at a loss of words for you. It all seems pretty ridiculous to me. I hope, as does Jen, that our good luck in gazing upon the goddess for a few brief seconds lasts for years to come.
I seem to have made it my life’s mission to travel to the planet’s most exotic destinations; you know, the kind of places 99% of Americans would never dream of going. From what I can gather the vast majority of vacationers prefer to lay on a tropical, white sand beach, gazing out over crystal clear water, while sipping a mojito or some other rum/tequila filled drink. Not many traipse through the Cambodian rainforests to catch a glimpse of the ruins of Angkor Wat, and I think only one other person I know has been to Jordan to witness the majesty of Petra.
Durbar Square (Bhaktapur)
Which brings me to my next entry: trekking through the KathmanduValley in the center of Nepal just south of the Himalayans and the world’s tallest and most famous mountain, Mt. Everest. The country of Nepal is an amazing place to visit if you’re a fan of nature, or culture, or good food, or simply a relaxing day filled with friendly people. Of all the locations to which I’ve traveled over the years, I’d recommend Kathmandu above all others; it’s a land of snow peaks, Sherpas, yaks and yetis, monasteries and mantras. We originally intended to travel to Tibet, but with additional regulations and permits required by the Chinese government, we opted for their next-door-neighbor instead. And boy, are we sure glad we did!
Nepali Meal with some of the Kantipur Temple House Staff (incl. their Executive Chef)!
We stayed in a hotel called the KantipurTempleHouse, a green hotel (there’s not a single ounce of plastic to be found anywhere) that’s managed to capture the essence of the Nepali people and culture, located in the Thamel area of the city (mostly for foreigners and trekkers). A guest will find that culture everywhere from the exterior and interior courtyards to the food served in the restaurant and the rooms themselves (the bedspreads are hand-crafted Nepali masterpieces unto themselves). We became such good friends with the staff, they even invited us to share a traditional Nepali meal with them in the basement kitchen. The only issue with the hotel, the city, and the nation of Nepal, is the load shedding.
LoadShedding is the planned and scheduled power-outages that ripple across this tiny, landlocked nation and occurs about 12 hours of every day in 3 to 6 hour chunks of time. 52% of Nepal’s produced electricity is exported to neighboring India and their vast hydroelectric power capabilities have yet to be tapped. The country only produces 700 megawatts, but has the potential to produce 40,000 megawatts! It seems the people have become a willing victim of shrewd Indian businesses.
Justin playing Bhag-Chal (Tigers and Goats) with some of our friends at Kantipur
Thankfully, this load shedding hasn’t deterred any tourism, which accounts for over $300 million dollars in the country’s annual revenue. And once you get used to the power cutting off for hours at a time (and most hotels and restaurants provide backup generators for their customers’ comfort) the rest of the experience in this beautiful and eco-friendly nation is breathtaking. The Kathmandu Valley is the most densely populated place in the world – not of people… of important historical and cultural monuments. Of the 130 found within a 20 kilometer radius, the valley boasts 7UNESCOWorldHeritageSites! And we went to them all…
There are three major ‘cities’ within the valley: Kathmandu, Patan (Lalitpur), and Bhaktapur, and each maintains its own DurbarSquare (durbar literally translates to ‘place of palaces’). The squares charge admission fees to get inside, but once there you’ll feel transported back in time. The squares are kept cleaner than the rest of the back alleys and main thoroughfares of the respective cities and there’s much more to see and do in them as well: palaces, temples, shrines, statues, and the people. You wouldn’t believe the people! Buddhist monks, rickshaw drivers, ‘guides’, tourists, security personnel, Hindu worshippers, and even living goddesses (but that’s another blog)!
Swayambunath Stupa and surrounding temples…
Outside the city centers, we found the other four UNESCO sites as well as a plethora of amazing restaurants, shopping bazaars, and simply friendly people. Every Nepali person seemed genuinely happy to have us there and we were truly grateful to be in a country where we felt safe and comfortable as we hiked throughout the valley, discovering hidden gems of tradition everywhere we turned. We were greeted and sent on our way with bookended ‘Namaste’, the customary way to say both hello and thank you (with much respect), that began in Nepal and was hijacked by Indian Yogis (muchlikeNepalielectricity).
While the majority of Nepali people practice Hinduism, the Buddhist influence still dominates much of the Kathmandu Valley. Since the Chinese infiltrated and took military control of neighboring Tibet, hundreds if not thousands of monks – as exiles and refugees – have taken up solace in Nepal. They brought their religion and cultural customs with them.
The Eyes of Buddha at Boudhanath Stupa
Perhaps the most iconic image of Nepal is of the stupa. A stupa is a mound or hemisphere structure containing Buddhist relics, mostly ashes of Buddhist monks. Kathmandu has many, but two of the largest in the world are UNESCO sites: Swayambunath and Boudhanath. The former, also known as the Monkey Temple, sits atop a large hill just a couple kilometers walk west of Kathmandu’s Durbar Square. We hiked through the poverty stricken streets and up, up, up mountains of stairs (365) to reach the top. When we arrived, we found the EyesofBuddha staring down upon us from the highest point on the stupa (four sets of eyes gaze out in the four cardinal directions). Surrounding this work of art were hawkers selling their souvenirs, monks encircling the shrine, tourists snapping photos, the sounds of peaceful, meditative chanting (Om Mani Padme Hum), and monkeys (Oh! the monkeys!!!).
Symbolically, stupas are built to represent the earth, water, sky, and the thirteen stages of spiritual realizations to reach pure enlightenment. The latter stupa, Boudhanath, isn’t high up a mountain. It’s surrounded by a town circle of shops, hotels, and restaurants, and at 118 feet, the stupa looms over the surrounding arcs of two and three story buildings. Other than being the largest stupa in Nepal (and perhaps the world), Boudhanath comes with a very interesting legend regarding its construction (approx. 8thCentury C.E.).
Tibetan Buddhists of this region believe that there once was a living Buddha who lived hundreds of years prior to the generally accepted historical living Buddha (Prince Siddhartha Gautama) and when he died an old woman and her four sons buried the sage’s remains where the stupa now stands. The woman petitioned the king to commission a tower on the spot where her sons had begun to erect a foundation. Many who lived in the area marveled at the work this poor woman was able to accomplish with no one but her immediate family, however, they didn’t want her to finish. They asked the king to renege on his promise for the tower, but he refused, explaining that kings shouldn’t eat their words. Therefore, the literal translation of the name Boudhanath, Have Finished Giving the Order to Proceed With, refers back to this story.
A sutra is a collection of aphorisms in the form of a religious manual or text. Literally, it translates to ‘sew’ as in to hold strands and threads together. Perhaps you may have heard of the Kama Sutra? In this blog gallery, you won’t find any lewd sexual positions. Instead, you’ll find some photography of our recent trip to India and Nepal. Enjoy!
The happy couple outside India’s version of the “White House”
The happy couple relaxing on a bench overlooking the Taj Mahal
The Belur Math Shrine
Humayun’s Tomb – Delhi, India
Humayun’s Tomb – Delhi, India
Jantar Mantar – Delhi, India
Laxmi Narayan Temple (Hindu) – Delhi, India
Red Fort – Delhi, India
Henna Art
Jen choosing which saree to buy in the Agra Bazaar
The Majestic Taj Mahal at Sunset
We never even learned the name of this temple, but there were lots of monkeys – Kolkata, India
Rickshaw Drivers awaiting customers
A young entrepreneur haggling with a customer
The Victoria Memorial – Kolkata, India
Hard Times in India
The Floatel Hotel on the Ganges River – Kolkata, India
A Bindi’d Elephant
The Kantipur Temple House – Kathmandu, Nepal
The Busiest Street corner in Kathmandu
A Sacred Cow amid a flock of un-sacred pigeons
Jen (’nuff said)
Durbar Square vendors
Buddhist Prayer Wheels at the Swayambunath Stupa – Kathmandu, Nepal
The Eyes of Buddha
Swayambunath
An Old Woman and a Hindu Shrine
Bet you never expected to see these two symbols hanging next to each other…
Buddhist Monks strolling around the stupa’s prayer wheels
Buddhist Monks strolling around the stupa’s prayer wheels
A Poor Nepali Child
Newari Masks
Newari Woodcarver
Newari Weaver
Nepali Puppets
Nepali Puppets
A Poor Newari Town outside of Kathmandu
Corn Husk Arts and Crafts
Durbar Square – Patan, Nepal
Chillin’ like Villains
An Old Nepali Man
Bodnath Stupa
Nepali Musicians and Dancers
Taumadhi Tole – Bhaktapur, Nepal
Parade of Statues outside a temple – Bhaktapur, Nepal
Smokin’ da Hookah
Above the clouds – Manakamana, Nepal
One Armed Hindu Man
A Goat Awaiting his Fate on the Sacrificial Table – Manakamana, Nepal
The endless or eternal knot is one of the eight ancient auspicious symbols in Buddhism. Here in China, one can see them just about everywhere from fancy household decorations worth hundreds of dollars to cheap, dime-store souvenirs hanging from rearview mirrors and keychains. The ‘knot’ is a pretty well-known symbol in modern-day Asia.
The Ancient Mystic Endless Eternal Auspicious Buddhist Chinese Wedding Knot (enough names for you?)
And I’ve officially tied mine.
As you’ve no doubt read on countless occasions, my life as an American ex-pat living abroad has been a series of adventures (or misadventures) for a few years – usually one directly following another. Getting married and arranging a wedding were no different. Thank God we had a ‘team’ to help us get this one as right as humanly possible.
Nothing is ever as quick, easy, or cheap as you expect it to be. Add to that a communication barrier and you may find yourself bashing your head against a concrete wall. The process of planning our Chinese wedding began months ago (not just the research) when we took a translator wedding dress shopping in a retail section of Suzhou that prominently featured dress shops.
Two full days later (with no result) we opted to have a 100% Chinese silk dress custom-made for Jen by an old Chinese tailor. The dress cost a fraction of what we would have paid in the States and would take a month before its completion (we were instructed to return once for a fitting at the halfway point before the tailor would finish the dress).
One of the Buildings of the Quanfu Temple Structure – Zhouzhuang
With the dress purchased, we moved onto other matters. A different friend and translator took us to the ancient Chinese Watertown of Zhouzhuang where we asked around about locations to stage our ceremony. We knew from our research that we wanted to incorporate a ‘teaceremony’ aspect, so tea houses were our first choice, however, we were also interested in utilizing the town’s Buddhist temple – QuanfuTemple – and one of the monks who lives there to perform the ceremony (an idea eventually laughed out of contention by the monks themselves; they don’t marry people).
To make a long story short, we found the Chijiang Tea House, negotiated prices, set one of the auspicious – or lucky – days, therefore checking another item off of our list. Over the coming months, we did more planning: designing the ceremony which wouldn’t be exactly like the Chinese traditional ones, obtaining more of our outfits (shoes, jackets, hairpiece), booking the hotel and transportation, and hiring the photographer.
The Tea House we Chose for our Wedding Ceremony
His English name is Stone (not sure exactly why) and he’s a very friendly and open-minded guy. He had us both over to his apartment to share in a home-cooked meal that he and his equally friendly wife prepared (but they had an annoying dog that wouldn’t leave us alone). We perused some of his recent photographic work. We even laughed a bit. After the meal, we shook hands, agreed on a price, and he marked the date in his calendar. We were just about ready to go.
And that’s when the proverbial wheels fall off the rails. It would have been easy to simply go through the motions of a wedding in China – the ceremony, the dress, the meal, anything we wanted really. But we wanted our big day to be legal in the eyes of both the Chinese and American governments. Therefore, we set out on our grandest misadventure yet… the paperwork.
Initially, we noticed a few major discrepancies in what the various offices were telling us we needed to accomplish prior to registering our marriage. The US Embassy website for Beijing had different information than the USConsulate in Shanghai. Both had different information than the WujiangMarriageOffice that we called over the phone. Finally, it was determined that we need to contact the marriage office in a completely different city – Nanjing.
Huh? Where? What?
Apparently, most marriage offices do not often (or ever) deal with marriages between two foreign residents of China. Rarely do they even deal with one foreigner marrying a Chinese National. Yet here we were, two foreigners attempting the virtually impossible and therefore instructed to go to Nanjing.
Here is a bullet list of the documents we were expected to obtain before they would even schedule an appointment (and God-forbid we get to said appointment with anything missing, incomplete, or incorrect):
A valid passport with a valid Chinese residencepermit (showing at least 6 months having lived in China – one office wanted at least a two-year validity on said permit)
Three marriage photos of the couple taken together with a red background (think passport photos, only with two instead of one person)
A wedding application form without any errors and/or omissions
The fee
A notarized “AffidavitofMarriageability” proving that we are both single and legally permitted to marry by our home country (this document is a sworn statement in front of a consulate or embassy notary who stamps it with the seal of the United States, some are valid for 6 months, others only for 3 months)
A Blank Affidavit of Marriageability
All of our documents then needed to be taken to an officially, government sanctioned translator who would then prepare second copies in Chinese so the marriage office in Nanjing could read and use them appropriately. We were worried that because each office gave us differing requirements, at the end of our appointment, we would ultimately be denied the right to legalize our marriage in China.
So… we took a trip to Nanjing and received our certificates without a single hitch! It was unbelievable and we were dumbstruck. We had no idea it would be so easy on the actual day.
Official Chinese Marriage Certificates
Doubling back to the actual wedding day and ceremony, Jen’s father flew in from New Jersey to join us for our special occasion. We began the day with a hair-combing ceremony as the bride’s hair and makeup were prepared. Traditionally, the hair-combing is done by the mother (or grandmother) of the bride, or a ‘luckylady’ – an older woman who has lived a long and healthy life, full of love and children. Since we had none of those, I performed the hair-combing myself using a special ox horn comb (meant to prevent static) customary of the ritual.
The four combings represent four promises or wishes for the future. The first is that we will continuously be together from the beginning to the end of our lives. The second is a wish for closeness and harmony in our marriage. The third hopes for children and grandchildren. The fourth (and final) invites us to enjoy a long life together until our hair and our eyebrows turn white.
Ox Horn Combs (Note the Colored ‘Lines’)
Following our hair and makeup preparations, we all headed out toward Zhouzhuang where we spent the better part of the day traipsing from place to place, taking photographs. Stone was great at his job and we were super-happy to have hired him. He ushered people out of our way (sometimes even yelling at them). He allowed us to take some goofy shots, but also ensured that he got the traditional Chinese wedding poses that he knew we also wanted. He managed to get a variety of town scenery in the background as well as some of the bride on her own (I can’t wait to see them, she looked beautiful).
As expected, two foreigners walking around an ancient Chinese Watertown in traditional wedding attire (and accompanied by a professional photographer) garnered the attention of the general public. There were times we posed for Stone to snap a photo and were greeted by no less than a dozen other Chinese strangers taking pics of us using their cell phone cameras. It was sometimes hectic and sometimes crazy, but all in all, we had a fun time. Following the photo shoot, we made our way to the tea house for our ceremony.
Jen’s father opened with a welcome message for our guests, there weren’t many, only a few coworkers – her Chinese in-laws up in Huai’an couldn’t make the trip down. After the introduction, everyone was served tea, including the happy couple. Our tea was slightly different than that of our guests. After doing a little research we learned of all the symbolism inherent in the choice of wedding tea. Typically, sweeter, fruitier teas are selected because they wish the newlyweds a sweet life. Oolongs are preferable, and the one we picked is called DanCongOolong (Mount Phoenix) and ended up tasting very delicious.
Chinese Wedding Tea (Notice the Pair of Dates in each Cup)
Additionally, twodates are placed into the tea. These two dates are meant to represent fertility and the coming together of two people to produced offspring. To begin, Jen poured a cup of tea for me and then I drank it. Then, I poured a cup for her and she drank it. Finally, we poured a third cup and both drank from it. During the tea portion of our ceremony, a nice old man (88 years old) played us a good luck wedding song that had been played for him on the day of his marriage, a long time ago.
Usually, the tea ceremony is meant to honor the family. First, the couple serves their own parents and then grandparents and any older relations. The tea moves down the line until young children are served. Once all the guests and family have received their tea, the couple then drinks themselves. Since we had very little family present, Jen’s father re-emerged to honor our families in a new yet still traditional way.
The Dragon and Phoenix Candles
First, he lit twocandles: a dragon and a phoenix. The dragon and phoenix are the yin and yang, the positive and negative, the male and female of ancient Chinese symbolism. We used these candles to represent those who could not be present. In his speech, her dad specifically mentioned Jen’s mom and my parents. Next, he presented us with one of the gifts my parents sent from home: a TibetanKhata, or ceremonial prayer shawl, which is given on a variety of occasions to bring luck to the receiver (weddings, graduations, and other life celebrations).
Following the presentation of gifts and the lighting of the candles, it was our time to shine. Jen and I exchanged our vows and our rings and the kiss sealed the deal. We were married.
The Dalai Lama Presenting the Khata
Overall, the ceremony was lovely, though a bit odd. I felt a curious lightness to the event (I later learned how uncommon it is to have a wedding ceremony in a tea house, in spite of the tea ceremony – most couples elect to use hotel ballrooms or meeting halls for their wedding day festivities). Unfortunately, as I’ve discovered in other cultures as well, the traditions of China are eroding rapidly, paving the way for much more Westernized customs. More often than not, Chinese brides choose a white dress rather than the ‘lucky’ red color. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
As much as I’m proud to be an American, I truly wish our influence didn’t permeate other cultures quite so deeply. It would be nice to travel from country to country and witness people who didn’t strive to be more and more like the Caucasians they see depicted in the films and television programs they watch. Thankfully, Chinese people still respect and revere the endless knot and it is given as a gift to many people. So far, we’ve been given at least a half dozen (and will probably receive more before our time in this country is through). When we arrive home this summer, we will continue the celebration of our union with our family and friends there.
I know the tying of our knot will last forever, in China or anywhere else we end up living. I love you, Jen.
…or not. Fans of the Back to the Future film franchise were treated to a marvelous view of what the year 2015 might look like, complete with flying cars, self-drying clothes, and hoverboards. However, the arrival of the actual 2015 appears much different. In fact, it looks eerily similar to 2014 which likewise appeared eerily similar to 2013 (and so forth and so on). So where’s my future? Where are the hoverboards? Where are the flying cars? Where are the self-drying jackets?
For my most recent New Year’s celebration, my fiancé and some friends accompanied me to a small town in northeast China, Harbin. This town is so close to the Russian border, its restaurants might as well serve vodka instead of water. And it was so bitterly and excruciatingly cold, we had to purchase an entire wardrobe of sub-zero outdoor gear just so we wouldn’t freeze to death (self-drying jackets they were not, however, did the trick at any rate).
Why would anybody in their right mind voluntarily trek out to a place with such abominable conditions? Harbin is basically known for three things: the Snow and Ice Festival that takes place every winter, a Siberian Tiger Park reserve/zoo/farm (yet to be determined), and the St. Sophia Russian Orthodox Church (which is no long a church at all, a lesson learned the hard way).
The Russian Orthodox Church of St. Sophia is Located in the Center of Harbin, China
Prior to China’s Cultural Revolution, Harbin was a bustling metropolis of Russian people, culture, food, architecture, clothing, and influence. Citizens and tourists could enjoy Borsht in the restaurants. They could attend Orthodox services on Sundays. They could even speak to each other in a language that wasn’t Chinese. Yet in the 1950s, the Russian population of Harbin began a mass exodus across the border. With them, their culture disappeared from northeast China. Nowadays, you can only experience the fumes of what once was, fumes that don’t compare to the full bottle. Overall, the city looks and feels like every other place in China we’ve visited so far.
Other than the cold, the most obvious difference from other places on the mainland is the attitude of Harbin’s citizens. Perhaps the cold brings out the worst in people, but we found them to be uber-aggressive; so aggressive in fact, that I believe them to have more in common with Turks than other Chinese ethnicities. Here’s something you may not be aware of: there are about 30 different ethnic groups with what westerners would refer to as ‘Chinese’, including (but not limited to) Mongols, Tibetans, Manchu, Han (thelargest), and Taiwanese. Naturally, my theory could be completely off base and it may not be a racial issue, but one of ice water running through their veins.
One of the major indicators of this aggression seemed to be the taxi drivers’ lack of interest in stopping for just about anyone – other Chinese tourists included. We must have spent hours over the course of the weekend, just hanging out on freezing cold street corners, waiting for taxis to pick us up. A second indicator was on New Year’s Eve while out at a bar. Upon entering, we were immediately approached by three or four workers of the establishment who herded us to a table and then demanded almost $100 just for the benefit of sitting there! They got so close into our faces, I felt like we were back in Camden or New York. This wasn’t the respectful Asian culture I’ve come to know and love since living both here and in South Korea. Where the heck was I?
The Cathedral at Night
Which brings me to the church. Without a doubt the most magnificent structure in the city, the St. Sophia Church, was built in 1907 and used (appropriately) until the 1949 treaties between the USSR and China turned over all Russian churches to Chinese control. The Chinese government and people allowed this beautiful work of art to become a run-down relic of history; even the frescoes, mosaics, and crosses were destroyed and removed until the National Cultural Heritage Foundation declared the building an historical site in 1996 and began work to not only preserve what was left, but restore the elements that had been lost.
As of 1997, the church has been used as a very mediocre Municipal Architecture Museum, showcasing nothing more than a few dozen black and white photos of Harbin’s history.
B-O-R-I-N-G.
The Majestic Siberan Tiger!
I suppose touring churches, cathedrals, and mosques in the Middle East has spoiled me. The best thing about Sophia in Harbin was how the exterior was lit at night. It felt very Christmas-y. The shame is that Sophia is the final bit of evidence remaining of the Russian influence in the entire city. What is packaged and sold as the most unique atmosphere in all of China boils down to this one city square – very disappointing if you went in hoping to find a bit of old Europe.
Your Humble Narrator was Stared Down by a Vicious Beast… But isn’t she just SO CUTE?!
Surprisingly, one of the most enjoyable aspects of the trip was the Siberian Tiger Park. Built over 350 acres of land, this combination park/zoo allows visitors to take bus rides through the reserve and then walk along cat-walks to get very close to these big jungle cats. For an additional fee, you can select some piece of livestock (chickens, cows, etc) to have handlers feed directly to the tigers, who rip them to shreds before your very eyes, while you look on in fascination, disgust, and horror. It’s all quite entertaining!
The Siberian tigers are on the endangered species list and the Chinese government would like to have you believe this park exists as a breeding ground to increase the magnificent animals’ numbers. However, the jury is still out on whether or not this park is anything more than a farm, whose purpose is to raise these tigers simply to slaughter them and sell their pelts for coats and rugs, and their bones to make Chinese tiger–bonewine (meant to improve virility in old men). Sigh…
2015 is the Year of the Ram
The centerpiece of our trip was the Snow and Ice Festival where artisans craft monuments out of snow and ice (duh) that reach up to three stories high. Enormous blocks of ice are carried into the region (mostly from the SonghuaRiver), and with temperatures that won’t even flirt above freezing for months, stacked on top of each other to create castles, Ferris wheels, pyramids, and Christmas trees! These wonders are set beside snow sculptures and smaller ice sculptures carved with such attention to detail, it’s surprising the artists haven’t been picked up by the Disney Corporation to work in their theme parks. One artist from Russia crafted a fish skeleton that looked so amazing, I had to snap a photograph.
Apparently, they are intricately designed using swing saws, chisels, and ice picks. And de-ionized water is used to create 100% transparent ice blocks – like glass – as opposed to the opaque ice we are all used to seeing in our water glasses. They even went so far as to construct an igloo bar and restaurant, where patrons can sit on ice benches at ice tables and drink beer and wine from ice goblets; even an ice labyrinth that people can navigate their way through!
No Caption Necessary
The first festival took place in 1999 and since then the Harbin festival has grown into the largest in the world. Each year thousands of visitors flock to the ‘North Pole’ community for the spectacle of carved ice and snow. Afterward, the artists are rented out to other ice festivals around the world, including Florida. The best time to visit the ice festival grounds is sunset. Just as the sun begins to fall, the park workers turn on the multicolored lights they embedded in the sculptures and the place erupts in rainbows!
Elton John’s Ice Piano
We were saddened to learn that the official open date of the festivities was January 5th. We were there on January 3rd, so while there was much to behold, we weren’t able to truly get into every single exhibit as they didn’t have everything completed right away. On top of that, the batteries in our electronic devices (cameras too) weren’t able to maintain a charge in the frigid temperatures for more than a couple hours. We weren’t able to get many pictures, and in fact, my digital SLR decided it didn’t even want to operate for me at all! Luckily, Jen’s digital camera had three separate batteries in the pouch so we never ran out of juice. I’m willing to bet that even my hoverboard wouldn’t have worked properly in Harbin.
The Way to a Woman’s Heart is Through her Stomach…
I am thrilled to have been asked to write a guest article for Justin’s blog. He knows how much I love food culture. It’s where my areas of interest intersect. For those of you who don’t know me, my undergraduate degree is in Sociology, then I continued on in the field of Education. Later, I went on to open my own restaurant, devoted to eating healthy and nutrition education. My specialty there is not the cooking, but the menu creation, flavor combination, and nutritional quality. That’s why the study of food culture is something I can write a blog about.
To be honest, I also just love to eat. It balances perfectly with Justin’s love of cooking. How lucky am I that he not only enjoys being in the kitchen, but he also keeps it strictly vegetarian for me? He’s definitely the fortune to my cookie.
Typical Lunch Served at our School Cafeteria (this cost approx. $0.40)
On to business. You know the expression, “eat to live or live to eat”? Well, I believe that Americans mostly engage in the latter, while the Chinese seem to adhere to the former. Justin and I teach together in a rural boarding school. We eat most lunches in the cafeteria. Because they are delicious? No! Few cafeterias across the world meet that standard. But because there’s nothing else for miles around and this option is cheap. Really cheap. Both of us can eat for a combined 9 RMB, or $1.50. If we wanted to, we could eat dinner there too, but we stick to weekday lunches because it’s about all we can handle.
I knew before coming here that rice is the staple food, but I didn’t realize that it’s served with every single meal. That’s right, according to my students, it’s eaten for breakfast, lunch, and dinner seven days a week. Fortunately, the chef is very generous and makes sure there is always a vegetarian option. However, it’s typically either potatoes (yep…the meal consists of just rice and potatoes) or an unnamed Chinese vegetable cooked in the same sauce as yesterday’s unnamed Chinese vegetable. Sometimes it’s even the same vegetable multiple days in a row.
Simply getting accustomed to only having chopsticks available is a feat unto itself (especially when you’re the only foreigners for miles around and everyone watches you to assess your skill). Once that’s mastered, it’s easier to take the time to observe the surroundings. Hundreds of people, yet not many talking to each other. They tend to have their faces very close to the lunch tray, while scooping food in with the chopsticks. It doesn’t look like anyone is enjoying the meal or the company. It’s a shame to me, but it’s the eat to live mentality.
Sign in Walmart: Apparently Chinese don’t Differentiate!
So the cafeteria is subpar, but what about restaurants? Obviously there are more choices on what to order, but honestly, for me, the taste is relatively the same. The chefs could benefit from a lesson in spice variation. It’s pretty much MSG and that’s it. Apparently no one here got the memo on this deadly seasoning. Most restaurants have the same menu, and it’s communal dining. So if you’re going with a local, they are going to order and you have to eat whatever comes. Oh, and be prepared to double dip with your chopsticks. When fish is ordered, chances are it will be the entire fish that’s brought to the table, eyeball staring right up from the plate. I don’t eat it, but it certainly looks interesting.
When I visited China in 2010, I was taken to a restaurant specializing in PekingDuck. The duck was wheeled out by the chef and a proclamation, complete with identification number, was read to the group. The chef then proceeded to carve the duck in our room and serve every single edible piece to the family. I’m not sure why China lacks a food culture that is exciting for a foreign palate, but the majority of locals and tourists alike agree that China does seem to excel in duck.
These Little Piggies Went to Market (Guess the Big, Bad Wolf Got ’em!)…
The meat is always fresh, as people buy it from vendors that hang the carcasses out for inspection in markets. I have been told that the American way of buying meat isn’t comfortable for the Chinese. They prefer to know exactly what they are getting. In theory this seems like a smart idea, but in practice it’s not much fun to walk down the street to see dust and flies swirling among dead pig heads!
One aspect I like about restaurant dining here is the individual rooms. Not all restaurants, but many have separate rooms for each party. This privacy makes the dining experience more enjoyable for me.
We had the amazing opportunity to spend a weekend with my extended family. My uncle married a Chinese woman, whose parents, seven sisters, and their children all live about 6 hours from us. When we visited, they made a few, extravagant home cooked meals. These were Justin’s favorite meals here in China. During the Mid-Autumn Festival, we had about 25 family members eating the dinner that Grandma spent all day preparing. The familial bond around that table was completely worth the weekend. I can’t say I forgot the germ aspect of all those chopsticks going into the same dishes, but at least I was able to relax and enjoy.
Justin Under the Wing of our Chinese Family – Learning the Ancient, Noble Art of Dumpling-ing…
During that weekend, we also had a private lesson from a few of my “aunts” in dumpling making. That was filled with laughs as Justin and I embarrassed ourselves by over stuffing the dumplings and having them explode. We eventually got the hang of it and they even made special vegetarian dumplings just for me!!
There is one more food adventure I would like to share. Last month Justin and I traveled to Beijing. If you haven’t read those blog posts, please scroll back and enjoy them (when you’re finished reading mine). One night we started talking to a group of American tourists. When they found out we live in China, they asked for a dinner recommendation. Assuming they wanted Chinese food, as they only had a short time here, I began trying to narrow down their preferences. We certainly had a chuckle when it turned out they had been here for two days and already wanted to eat anything except Chinese food! I completely understood how they felt.
Personally, however, I was on a mission to accomplish my food goal for the year. While I have been a vegetarian for ten years, I broke it once in Korea to try eating dog for the cultural experience and wanted again to have a weird, odd, and disgusting cultural experience in China. I mean…it’s Asia. You can’t get stuff this bizarre in New Jersey! I finally found what I was looking for from a street vendor. There is a famous snack food street in Beijing. Most tourists eat there, although it’s probably not the norm to try something exceptionally unusual.
Case in point: Despite my urging to eat something gross, since the choices included spider, centipede, bumblebee, starfish, or a full, coiled-up snake, Justin opted for a marinated lamb wrap and some fried pumpkin. My goal, however, was to try scorpion. I was assured that it wasn’t poisonous and that the whole thing could be ingested. It came on a skewer, which was then thrown into the fryer and sprinkled with spices. I took it back to the hotel room so I could have a fun photo shoot with my food and then try it without having to alarm people if I couldn’t keep it down.
The Face Says it All!
I tried the claw first but I just kept chewing without getting to anything inside and without it compacting enough to comfortably swallow. Eventually I just tried to get it down, but to Justin’s amusement I started gagging and spitting. Next, I tried the legs. I got a couple of those down, but it was just a crunchy texture. No taste, no meat. Finally, we cracked open the body to see what it looked like. The meat was black mush. The look of utter repulsion on my fiancé’s face didn’t stop me from tasting some. Honestly, it just tasted like the spices. Probably the best case scenario for me!
Needless to say, I wasn’t kidding when I said how lucky I am that Justin enjoys cooking. The meals he creates on our single hot plate and toaster oven (it is very unusual in a Chinese household to even have an oven) are delicious. Especially since we can rarely find good bread or any cheese in the grocery stores here.
Until next time (if I’m asked to do a guest spot again)…
The Great Wall of China is undoubtedly one of the most amazing wonders of the world. It has been said the Wall can be seen from the moon. It has also been said that a helpful dragon directed the workers to the path over the mountains where the Wall should be placed. Neither of these legends are true, but they’re both really fun to think about.
The Mutianyu Section of the Restored Great Wall
Contrary to popular belief, the Great Wall isn’t actually one wall – it’s several smaller pieces of walls, built over hundreds of years that together form a defensive boundary on the northern edge of China. Other than protection from the Mongols, the Wall, having been constructed with towers and wide enough for ten men to walk side-by-side, was also used for transportation and communication.
Because the Wall took hundreds of years to complete, the ages of the pieces vary from mile to mile. The Chinese government restored sections so tourists can soak in the majesty of what the structure would have looked like during its heyday. The unrestored sections, also known as wildwalls, have been swallowed up by the mountainside – trees grow through dislodged stones and one look over the side might cause a visitor to get vertigo and perhaps tumble to his death. It can be very scary to hike.
Last month, Jen and I took a trip to Beijing and spent a few hours traversing the Wall. It is so magnificent to be able to live a life where we both have opportunities to visit exotic and interesting places (Petra, Cairo, Jerusalem, Istanbul, Angkor). The Great Wall of China is the newest and one of the most impressive additions to that list.
Tourists are Everywhere along the Wall
The original concept for the Wall came about during the 14th century MingDynasty. After a series of defeats against the Mongols, the emperor devised a new strategy to keep the nomadic tribes out of China and this first portion of the Wall followed the OrdosDesert’s southern edge in an effort to utilize the natural landscape in the Ming army favor.
The areas built closer to Beijing were the strongest, but during various raids over the years, efficient tactics were developed to repair and reinforce pieces after skirmishes (before the enemy could launch another attack). Toward the end of the Ming’s rule, the Wall was instrumental in defending the empire against the Manchu invasions which began around 1600. By the time the QingDynasty ruled, the nation’s borders extended beyond the Wall and parts of Mongolia were annexed, so Great Wall was deemed unnecessary and constructions ceased.
Dragons Can Be Seen Everywhere…
Upon deciding to visit the Wall, you’ll find many options available: wild walls void of people and technology, restored sections packed with tourists, areas closer to or farther from Beijing, a few even boast ski lifts and toboggans installed to help people get on and off with greater ease. The main sections are: Badaling, Mutianyu, Jinshanling, and ShanhaiWest and East. We chose the Mutianyu section because there are fewer tourists there than at Bedaling (closest to Beijing), but we felt the wild wall areas weren’t what we were hoping to experience.
The Wall was built using the mountainous terrain as a guide and as such has been compared to that of a long dragon stretching across northern China (the dragon’s head ends at the sea where it dips its mouth into the water for a cool drink). In Chinese culture, the dragon has traditionally been used a symbol for power, wealth, masculinity, and of the emperor himself.
Dragon Depiction at Mutianyu
Over the centuries, the dragon’s appearance has altered based on the symbolic needs for the depictions. As opposed to the more medieval European type of dragon, Chinese dragons look like long serpents with legs and a great, big head. Every minuscule detail of a dragon means something from the number of claws on its feet to the size and shape of its scales.
Dragon images can be seen just about everywhere in China as a sign of their culture and heritage. In fact, some Chinese people use the term ‘Descendantsof the Dragon‘ as a means of illustrating their ethnic identity (the Mongols often used a wolf while the monkey remained the choice of Tibetans). Additionally in Chinese mythology, the phoenix is considered to be the mate of the dragon – yin and yang – and the tiger is its ultimate rival.
The Phoenix to my Dragon Standing Atop the Winding Dragon!
Today, it is highly taboo to disfigure or vandalize a dragon so one would think that to desecrate the Great Wall would be equally taboo; however, while we were on the Wall, we discovered that the Chinese people, adults and children alike, will drop trousers to relieve themselves in the corners of the battlements (I missed a photo opportunity by a split second). Many of the towers smelled as if they’d been drenched in urine. Quite the shame since the Wall is one of the can’t-miss sites (and sights) of the world! If you have a chance to go, we highly recommend it.
Many of my American readers will cringe at the mention of communism. Between the end of World War II (1945) and the fall of the BerlinWall (1989), the term became a dirty word evoking fear, confusion and hatred in many first world citizens (ask Sen. Joe McCarthy). Students of philosophy think differently of course, as they’ve studied theoretical socialism and communism – myself included; however, suffice it to say even today as the USSR is no more and most nations remain staunchly entrenched in the free market, capitalist, global economy the term still holds a very negative connotation.
Mao’s Portrait on the North side of Tiananmen Square
Living in the longest running, most successful, and recent world superpower communist country, the People’s Republic of China, has opened my eyes to much of what is good and bad about communism. Largely absent from day to day routines, it’s often out of sight, out of mind. During a recent trip to Beijing (the nation’s capital), especially TiananmenSquare, the visibility of Red China’s strict government increased dramatically.
I’m not going to take too much time discussing the history of China and China’s CommunistParty as I’m more concerned with explaining what Chinese communism is like today. The economy here operates quite differently than that of its European predecessors and that in and of itself sparks a lot of head scratching across America. The free trade agreements of the 90s-00s have forever altered the once rural and agricultural based country into what amounts to the largest hub of the entire world’s manufacturing. China boasts more factories per square kilometer than any other nation on Earth.
I believe the first elements that bewilder people most are the basic definitions of words like communism and socialism. People tend to misinterpret them as the antithesis to democracy. That isn’t truly the case. Communism isn’t a political system as much as an economic system, so if one felt the need to set them both up on two halves of a scale, democracy wouldn’t be on the opposing side. Capitalism would be. Once that much is understood, we can move onto the second element.
communism [kom-yuh-niz-uh m] noun – A theory or system of social and economic organization based on the holding of all property in common, actual ownership being ascribed to the community as a whole or to the state
capitalism [kap-i-tl-iz-uh m] noun – An economic system in which investment in and ownership of the means of production, distribution, and exchange of wealth is made and maintained chiefly by private individuals or corporations, especially as contrasted to cooperatively or state-owned means of wealth
Great Hall of the People – meeting place of the National People’s Congress
Much more confusing is China’s economy. The popular misconception is that China, as the USSR had been, is completely, 100% undeniably communist. Not so. After Mao Zedong’sGreatLeapForward (1958-1961), the country needed desperately to revitalize their economy and speed up growth. The Party leaders devised a way to do just that while still maintaining commitment to Leninism, centralized control, and the one-party state. They developed what is known as a socialist–marketeconomy.
Think of it as a blending of socialism and capitalism for the purpose of China’s survival in a global economy. How could one single, stand-alone communist nation thrive surrounded by capitalists? Simple. Allow privately owned enterprises to enter into China alongside central state-owned enterprises and utilize the fastest growing work force on Earth (pretty obvious plan when you consider China’s population has surpassed the 2 billion mark). Multinationals like Apple, Samsung, Microsoft, Honda, and others have established hundreds of factories and hired millions of workers so that all of us first worlders can have our smart phones, tablets, and cars.
Workers Sculpture at Tianamen Square, Beijing
This system isn’t the end of the road for China by any stretch of the imagination. It is merely a stepping stone. Despite the official designation of socialism, analysts often describe the economy of China as a form of state run capitalism. This is much more accurate, from my perspective, as I live amid Chinese people who all own their cars (and choose which makes and models to purchase), smart phones, clothes, and other manufactured goods. The government here refers to this current phase as the Primary Stage of Socialism, or socialism with Chinese characteristics.
What the hell does that mean?
China’s Gross Domestic Product
The primary stage of socialism was introduced by Mao Zedong and attempts to explain the reasons for including capitalist tendencies within the Chinese socialist economy (as explained above). Essentially, China is considered to be an immature socialist system and at which point their GDP grows enough to be considered mature, the nation will abandon this intermediary phase and jump into the final phase of Advanced Socialism.
Xue Muquio stated that the guiding principle to be upheld during the initial stage, “from each according to his ability, to each according to his work,” would be replaced (upon entry into the secondary stage) with, “from each according to his ability, to each according to his need,” but only when general abundance of goods and assets existed. Notice that only a single word was changed.
Red Army Soldiers Patrolling near Chairman Mao’s Mausoleum
The word ‘work’ was replaced with the word ‘need’. During the primary stage, the individual gets out of the system what he puts in. However, communism and socialism were not economic systems designed to support impoverished people. This was the major problem in the USSR. Marx intended for his system to eventually eliminate poverty and as such, once all poor people (as well as the bourgeois) had been eradicated, then the individual would put everything they could into the system and get out what they need, regardless of their level or ability to work. That is the sole purpose for the inception and design of communism and socialism to begin with! A truly classless society, free from prejudice and exploitation.
Eventually in China, the term ‘ownership’ will be replaced by ‘usership’. Nobody will own anything, they will simple lease and use it for however long was needed. In theory, it’s a beautiful concept; in practice, time will tell if the Party can sustain and continue to grow. Perhaps within the next couple generations, the vibrant hues of Red China will gradually fade to blues and greens.
Depending on which sources you subscribe to, the vast majority of the Chinese people are atheists (the numbers range from 47%-80% by comparison, the average around the world is 13%). China has recently won the crown and since the People’s Republic was founded as an atheist organization in 1949, it may not come as much of a surprise to my faithful readers on the interwebz.
What struck me as odd, however, weren’t the statistics. During a trip to Beijing – the nation’s capital city – I found myself surrounded by religious sites and artifacts dating back hundreds (if not thousands) of years. So how can a population of so many non-believers in the 21st century have such a rich history of spirituality? Have they forgotten?
If You Go Carrying Pictures of Chairman Mao…
Between 1949 and 1977, the State moved to destroy all references to Confucianism, Taoism, and other religions. The 1978 Constitutional changes allowed for a guaranteed ‘freedom of religion’ in Article 36, thereby sparking a flood of rebuilding and restoration efforts to those previously damaged temples and shrines. Not all of these holy sites needed remodeling; any religious sites associated with the generically named heaven worship had been allowed to remain and many of the most popular tourist destinations in and around Beijing focus primarily on that.
Apparently the Chinese people have had a long history of honoring the origin of mankind as well as recognizing that there must be something after death. The emperors of the Qing, Ming, and Shang dynasties believed themselves to be divinely appointed – similarly to the kings of medieval Europe – and ruled the land as though they were gods on earth. The royal families required large monuments, palaces, and temples devoted to their belief if for no other reason than to remind the common people who was in charge and why.
Temple of Heaven – Hall of Prayer of Good Harvests
Due south of Beijing’s city center lies a large expanse of parkland upon which sits the TempleofHeaven – a series of buildings illustrating the emperor’s respect to the source of his authority. Twice a year, he and his entourage would camp within the park, wearing robes and practicing vegetarianism for the sole purpose of personal prayer for good harvests. In the tradition of East Asian culture, zero mistakes were tolerated during the winter solstice ceremony for it was widely believed a single flaw would bring about a bad omen for the upcoming year. The temple grounds consist of three major buildings:
The Hall of Prayer of Good Harvests (see photo) – Three tiered, circular building built entirely of wood and without the use of nails and set upon a marble base.
The Imperial Vault of Heaven – Located just south of the aforementioned building, this smaller yet still circular structure is surrounded by a smooth wall called the Echo Wall that can transmit sound over large distances.
The Circular Mound Altar – Even farther south lies this altar, essentially an empty platform featuring ornately carved dragons; it has been said that the sound of prayer will be reflected along the echo wall to create a resonance, thus helping the prayer communicate with Heaven.
But the Temple of Heaven isn’t the only structure dedicated to heaven worship. A few kilometers away lies the remnants of one of the most magnificent and important places in all of China – the Forbidden City. The Forbidden City was the Chinese imperial palace for the Ming and Qing dynasties, however, to imply that’s all it was is mere foolishness. Named because commoners weren’t allowed within the walls (without the emperor’s permission), the ‘city’ served as the home of the emperors and their families, and was both the ceremonial and political center of the government.
Construction on the 980 individual structures (containing 9,999 rooms) of the complex began in 1406 and was completed in 1420. Meant to be the center of the ancient city of Beijing, it was enclosed by a larger walled area called the Imperial City, which was in turn enclosed by the Inner City and then the Outer City walls. The city’s axis is believed to have been designed in the Yuan dynasty to align with Xanadu, the other capital of their empire at that time.
The Hall of Supreme Harmony
The Forbidden City’s overall layout to the most miniscule detail was meticulously planned to reflect the philosophic principles of the imperial family. For example, yellow is the color of the emperor and therefore, almost every roof in the city bears yellow glazed tiles, including the Hall of Supreme Harmony – where the emperors lived. The only two exceptions are the library with black tiles (since black is associated with water and fire-prevention) and the crown prince’s home with green tiles (green being symbolic of wood and growth). All the main halls are arranged in groups of three in the shape of the Qiantriagram to represent Heaven while residences are in the shape of the Kuntriagram, representing Earth.
Roof Charms on the Emperor’s Palace showing Highest Possible Status (notice the Immortal Guardian in front of the Dragon)
Perhaps most interesting of all these symbolic details are the roofcharms – little statuettes depicting the importance of the building itself and those who live and or work there. All are led by a man riding a phoenix (the symbol of the feminine) and followed by the dragon (the symbol of the masculine). The number of statuettes varies, the greater the number, the greater the building’s significance. As previously mentioned, the Hall of Supreme Harmony (home of the emperors) boasts 10 statues, the only building in the country to be permitted this amount. The 10th in line, also called ‘Hangshi’ is unique to the Forbidden City (it appears nowhere else) and is the form of an immortal guardian who protects the Son of Heaven while he’s in power.
In addition to being a UNESCOWorldHeritageSite, the city is home to a plethora of historical artifacts (including paintings, ceramics, bronze ware, timepieces, and jade) housed within their museum. The Palace Museum collection contains over 1 million pieces of art that had been stored in the city prior to the 1933 invasion of Japan which forced the Chinese people to split the collection up. Now much of it resides in Taipei, Taiwan, but Beijing shows off as much of the display as possible.
The Gate of Divine Might
All of these wonders can best be seen if you head north to JingshanPark (not the artifacts though). Formerly a private imperial garden, the park was opened to the public in 1928 and has for almost a century provided visitors and residents with spectacular views of the Forbidden City as well as Tian’anmenSquare. During the Ming dynasty, the artificial hill was created using soil excavated to form the moat around the imperial palace (all of the dirt only moved by animal and manpower). The park consists of five individual peaks, on the top of each sits an elaborate pavilion mostly used for leisure purposes. The park faces the northern-most wall of the Forbidden City and the Gate of Divine Might.
It’s been said that the final emperor of the dynasty, Chongzhen, committed suicide by hanging himself and his eunuch servant Wang by a nearby tree at the foot of the largest hill in 1644 (he left a note):
“I am insufficient in virtues and weak in conducts, hence the heavenly punishment and the ministers also failed me. Having no dignity to face my ancestors, I would undress my crown and cover my face with hair. Mutilate my body as you wish, but do not harm a single civilian.”
As you’ve read, China has traditionally been a land of believers. Only after the rise of communism have these beliefs been quashed due primarily to the government’s desire to become the sole influence in the lives of the commoners (stealing their focus from ancestor worship, heaven worship, and Confucianism). What some people fail to realize is that while many Chinese claim to be atheist, they can still be Buddhist as there is no monotheistic deity within the Buddhist religion and people of all religions can maintain their beliefs and still practice the central tenants of Buddhism.
With any luck, communism’s stranglehold on personal ideologies is loosening and will eventually come to an end. It would be a pity to see more spiritual monuments, temples, and shrines, disappear from the collective heritage of China. After all, can’t Heaven and Earth co-exist together?
Panorama of the Forbidden City (from atop Prospect Hill, Jingshan Park)
Ni Hao! Greetings from Red China! I begin, as promised, another year of informative and hopefully entertaining articles about living and working overseas. My adventures first took me to Korea where I recognized an assembly line style of education, quite different from the United States. Then I journeyed to Turkiye where I noticed a complete and utter lack of interest in education altogether. Now, I find myself in what is probably the most successful communist nation in human history (though they use the term communist very loosely here – look for another article on that topic in the near future), and again I’ve already experienced a certain factory worker approach to education.
Without the Exploitation of the Chinese Workforce, Add a Couple of Zeroes to the Right of those Prices…
For those of you who aren’t already aware, China as a nation doesn’t lead the charge in the fight for human rights. In fact, you’d be hard pressed to find another country with fewer laws and regulations about working and living conditions. It’s been a growing problem in recent years, primarily due to the free trade agreements of the ‘90s-00s and the increase in abundance of electronic devices – mobile phones, tablets, flat-screen televisions, laptops, etc – which require the cheapest force of manual labor in existence to drive the operating costs down. You want the newest iPhone 6? And you don’t want it to cost $1,000? Okay, then we’ll make millions of them for you in China and pay the workers about $2.00 per day, work them for 15-18 hour shifts, and house them in dormitories (10 people per 10 square-foot room), and often hundreds of miles away from their families, spouses, and children.
The news first hit U.S. outlets about two years ago following riots outside Apple factories in northern Chinese cities. The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, CNN, and Reuters (among others) all reported on the riots and the abysmal conditions where the wealthy Americans’ electronics are manufactured. In a population of over 2 billion, do the needs of a few million factory workers matter? Does the ‘red’ government care at all? Yes and no.
On the Factory Floor, One… er I mean, 500 iPhones at a Time.
It’s true that human rights in 21st century China pales in comparison to its western counterparts; however, China is still a developing nation. Countries like the United States have long since been developed. Look back at our own history to a time when we were developing and you’ll see many more parallels. Child-labor was prevalent in factories as were workdays of long hours. In our contemporary climate of the global marketplace and economy, it feels like too much though.
During the Industrial Revolution, journalists, writers, and activists appealed to the government to add regulations; they urged those in power to protect the needs of the workers. Unions formed. Those advances are coming much slower to China – if at all. In fact, the trickledown effect has migrated these conditions out of the factories and into the schools.
I work for a prestigious (and expensive) boarding school in the rural country-side. The school caters to about 4,500 students in grades 7th-12th. The school has a strict reputation and costs their parents a lot of money every semester. You’d think a private school would implement better and healthier living conditions for their students. You’d think wrong.
37 Students in One Classroom…
Students attend school from 7:00am until 9:30pm during the week, and on Saturdays and Sundays between 9:00am and early afternoon. Evening classes consist of study hall-like sessions with a single teacher proctoring the students, but mostly they simply sit in silence to study (they aren’t even allowed to read, they have to do actual work). The class sizes in the regular school are between 30-40 per room with desks crammed into every possible nook and cranny (they sit on stools without backs to promote proper posture).
Their dorm rooms are no different. Three or four bunk beds line the walls to accommodate six to eight children. Each room has a panel of tiny cabinets (approx. 2 cubic feet) for the students to put folded clothes, books, and other items (no space for hanging anything and neither the lockers nor the door to their room can be locked). Their bathroom consists of a metal trough with some pvc-style pipes that bring in the water. Some are lucky enough to have hot water at the aforementioned designated times, while others (completely luck of the draw depending on which room they’re assigned) get only cold or room temperature water. Twin showers (without doors or curtains) are on one side of the trough while a trio of toilets – nothing more than a narrow gully carved into the floor – lay on the opposing side (again, no doors).
The Rooms are so Small, I couldn’t get Everything in one Shot.
10:30pm is lights out. No exceptions. Security guards, armed with flashlights, roam the campus dorms all night long, shining bright lights into the faces of sleeping students to ensure they’re asleep (and often invariably waking them up again). There can be no talking, eating, drinking, studying, or even going to the bathroom during lights out. Only at 6:00am can the students rise and begin the next day… all over again.
The entire endeavor is run systematically like an assembly line with large groups of students herded to classes, to eat meals, to run around the track, and to go to bed simultaneously. They’re given little room for error and even less for individuality. Nonconformity is out – everyone must fit in, everyone must follow every rule, or else.
Thankfully, the international department (for which I work) is substantially higher class. My students only sleep three to a room and have access to choice meals, less stringent rules, and an overall better quality of life. All this is great for me, because I think if I had to deal with the other students on a daily basis, I’d find myself filling less of a teacher role and more of a social advocate for students’ rights.
…But not everyone wipes (or washes their hands afterward).
So I’ve been in China now for almost a month and other than a few minor problems (internet connection being one of them), things have been going rather smoothly. Except for the other day.
Yup, We Do…
One day last week, I was forced to do something I had completely avoided during my 12 months in Korea and 10 months in Turkiye. I used a floor toilet.
Many of you may not know what a floor toilet is (particularly if you haven’t traveled outside the States). The floor toilet, or squattypotty as it’s affectionately referred to, is nothing more than a hole in the ground (not for Bilbo Baggins either). Although people tell me evacuating your bowels in this position is healthier, many of my western comrades will agree with me that having to balance yourself on your feet while sticking your rump into a hole isn’t anywhere near as comfortable.
The icing on the cake, however, is that once you’ve finished and you want to wipe chances are (unless you’ve come prepared with your on personal stash), you won’t find any toilet paper. Bathrooms across Asia are known to be ill-equipped with this defecation necessity. And you’ll be lucky if there’s soap as well (restaurants typically have soap in the kitchens for employees to wash their hands).
Here’s how you do it (step-by-step):
Upon first entering the stall (with or without a door), you’ll notice a small faucet and bucket. This is to pour a bit of water into the porcelain basin which helps eliminate friction so your waste materials slide down into the hole (9 times out of 10 these toilets do not flush).
Pull down your pants, taking great care so that you don’t lose your wallet or cell phone and your clothes do not come into contact with the floor or get in the way of what’s about to come out of you. In the case of men, you may need to ‘aim’ your little friend down so that you don’t spurt all over the back of your jeans or shorts like a fire hose.
Squat (the hard part) with your heels flat on the ground. Typically, we’re used to squatting on the balls of our feet. Not so with the squatty potty. The toilets have specific places to put your feet, but you must make sure to keep your heels firmly planted beneath your weight. This will provide additional stability. The direction you face is based on how the toilet was installed (your goal is to ‘plop’ your stuff directly into the hole provided and not in the porcelain basin if you can help it).
Ready, Set, Go!
Wipe yourself (with the toilet paper you brought) and do not put the dirty paper into the toilet. There will be some type of trash can in the corner and if there isn’t, simply leave it somewhere on the floor – yes, yes I know, but you’re not in Kansas anymore. This is third world people!
Standard ‘hole-in-the-ground’ Toilet
My experience, I have to say, was quite interesting. Luckily, I didn’t make any rookie mistakes like peeing on my pants or getting poo on my shoes. I can tell you that it’s difficult to remain squatting for very long so for you newspaper readers or crossword aficionados, squatty potties won’t be your cup of tea. I suppose Asians in general don’t choose to spend a lot of time in bathroom stalls (some of which don’t even have doors).
So what do you do when you can’t find a western toilet and can’t make it long enough to get to a squatty potty (or haven’t read this blog yet and don’t know how to use one)? Simple: You poop in the park. Yes, that actually happened on a walk from a store to our apartment. It was hysterical and I wish I had a picture. Alas the moment was captured in my memory and that’s where it will remain.
The process of obtaining a visa, as I’ve now come to learn, is vastly different depending on each country you’re trying to visit as well as which country you’ll be traveling from (or have your citizenship in). As Americans, getting in and out of the majority of worldwide nations remains on the easy side; however, do not be fooled. There are still a plethora of proverbial hoops to jump through.
If you’re a tourist and traveling to a country for three months or less, most countries will allow holders of United States passports the luxury of purchasing a visa at the point of entry, most often an airport or train station. If you’re planning to live and work abroad, the process is similar albeit somewhat more complicated.
Typical Airport Border Check
For example, when I was hired at Samanyolu Schools in Turkiye, I was told to pay $20 USD at the airport for a 90 day tourist visa and once inside the country, the school and recruiting firm would work tirelessly (a joke unto itself) to help me obtain both a residence permit and work permit. In most cases, residence and/or work permit will supersede tourist visas, thereby allowing you to remain in the nation longer than three months (for more information on residence permits, please click here).
On the contrary, when I was hired at AvalonAcademy in South Korea, I had to FedEx my passport, application, college degree, and other documents to Seoul so they could prepare them and send them to the consulate in New York. Once the consulate was through with them, they mailed the passport – complete with visa – back to me and I became eligible to live and work in South Korea for one year.
Yep… You’ll Most Definitely See Someone Like Her
Both processes were virtually painless and easy. So when it came time for Jen and I to apply for our work permits and visas for the upcoming year in Shanghai, China, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I suppose being American spoils one a bit. South Korea loves the United States. Turkiye used to love us and now has a ‘meh’ sort of indifference toward us. Some countries make it very difficult to get inside their borders to visit, let alone work for a year. Apparently, China tows that particular line (just slightly below North Korea, Cuba, and Iran).
From the China Embassy website: “Any person suffering from a mental disorder, leprosy, AIDS, venereal diseases, contagious tuberculosis or other such infectious diseases shall not be permitted to enter China.”
what, What, WHAT?!?!
When we began, I knew we would be applying via the Chinese consulate (in New York City) or the Chinese embassy (in WashingtonD.C.), but I assumed we could do everything using in the mail. Oh, how wrong I was. Not only did we have to prepare a mountain of paperwork, but we had to report to the consulate in person… twice. Yep, you read that correctly. We had to drive up to midtown Manhattan to drop off the paperwork and then again to pick up the visas about four days later. Two trips (that’s two more than I had to make for both Korea and Turkiye).
There are Always Protesters Outside the Chinese Consulate
Additionally, we had to email said documents to the school in China first and wait impatiently (for over 2 weeks) while they prepared our work permits and – get this – a ‘letter of invitation’ from the Chinese government. Without this letter, we would not be allowed to get visas or enter the country. Below is the list of documents we needed to gain access:
Resume/C.V.
Photocopy of Passport Photo Page
College Degree
TEFL/TESOL Certificate
Criminal Background Check
Physical Health Report (complete with HIV and other blood work)
Letter of Recommendation from Previous Employer (aka Turkiye, which ended up being a pain to get)
Aside from the resume, all of these documents needed to be stamped with an official seal from the doctor, employer, law enforcement agency, or educational institution before they would be accepted as authentic copies. Once they were supplied to the school, we were gifted with the letter of invitation and our work permits. Then the application for the visa with extra passport photos needed to be handed to the consulate in person with the documents from China so that we could obtain our visas.
I’m thankful we live close enough to the northeast US to get to either New York or Washington. But what if you live somewhere in middle America? Residents of Idaho, Iowa, or Oklahoma would have a substantially difficult time without the money required to fly to the consulate in person. So what do they do?
From VisaHQ.com (Check the Price List at the Bottom)…
There are several online companies offering visa services for a small fee. They will collect all your documents and have a duly designated representative apply on your behalf. After the visa has been processed, they’ll pick it up and mail it back to you. Typically these charges range from $50-$70 USD; unless of course you need the visa expressed or expedited due to time constraints. That will jack your price up to approximately $120-$150 USD – per visa!
Derweze, Ahal Province, Turkmenistan
Needless to say, we did not utilize one of these services and simply drove up to the City. During the drive, I found myself wondering what we might have to do in order to get into more difficult countries than China (which is already on the list of most difficult). For instance, to visit the Door to Hell in Turkmenistan visitors must agree to pay for a guide up front, before obtaining the visa. They also require a letter of invitation (we probably won’t be visiting one of the most underrated tourist attractions in the world then, sigh…).
If you’re planning on working overseas, your employer should be able to answer any questions you may have about the work permit and visa applications. If you’re only visiting, there is plenty of information online to assist you as every country’s consulates and embassies have their own websites with pages specifically for visa applicants. I encourage everyone to get off their bums and visit and/or live in some place new. It will change who you are and how you view the world.
For the past two years, I’ve chronicled my adventures traveling around the globe while I teach English as a second language. My readers have followed me from the Far East to the Middle East and back. Today’s article brings me a bit closer to home; actually, it brings me as close as one can get to home. This week, I visited my childhood house for the last time. It holds a great deal of memories for me and it’s been sold to somebody else. I will never set foot inside those walls again.
A Foreboding Abode
I’m not alone in the experience or the emotion. Moving on from childhood into adulthood is so common that literally everyone does it. Hell, there’s even an entire genre of fiction – Rite of Passage – written solely for the purpose of exploring those situations and feelings (I’m sure you’ve all seen Stand By Me). The dictionary definition of Rite of Passage is, ‘an event marking an important stage in someone’s life, especially birth, puberty, marriage, and death.’ Losing the house you grew up in qualifies.
The problem is I’m not quite sure how to feel about it. Obviously, as in the case with most things, it’s not all good and not all bad – not a simple black and white issue. There are mixed feelings. As a rule, I tend to shy away from sentimentality. I don’t associate emotional attachment with inanimate objects (houses included). So while most people might experience pangs of loss or regret, I find myself mostly pang free.
No Caption Necessary…
But how do I feel about it? We moved into the house in the spring of ’86 when I was finishing up kindergarten – young enough to not have any loyalties to schools or friends, but old enough to comprehend and remember life before this house. That being said, almost all of my public education occurred in the same district with the same friends over the same stomping grounds. I can look back on many of those memories and smile fondly, regardless of whether or not my parents occupy that home.
Some of my readers (mostly family) might see this as a bad thing. They may wonder why I’m so detached and seem indifferent toward the sale. They would be justified in their concern. One of the biggest hurdles in my personal life has involved coming across as apathetic toward others. It’s a problem for anyone with an over-inflated ego (hey, I never claimed to be perfect). And truthfully, I do have a lot of affection for those people and the wonderful times we shared. For instance:
Christmas mornings spent waiting at the top of the stairs for Mom and Dad to make coffee and apply the finishing touches to the gifts under the tree.
Learning to ride a bicycle (and parallel park the car) on our street.
Playing video games all night long with friends during sleepovers.
The year my cousin, Amy, came to live with us.
Hosting a viewing party for the James Bond spoof film I made for my high school speech and media class.
Hours spent tickling the ivories on our living room piano.
Family game nights.
Coming in from the cold snow to steaming mugs of hot chocolate and Indiana Jones or Star Wars movie marathons.
Graduating from microwave to oven/stove cooking.
Long days exploring the nearby woods and late nights running around the neighborhood yelling, ‘Jailbreak!’
Summers spent weeding and mowing the yard in the humidity. (Okay, so they’re not ALL great)
Sure, there were some wonderful moments. However, I don’t necessarily connect them to the house itself. I connect those amazing memories to the people involved. As Dave Matthews said in his song, The Best of What’s Around, “Turns out, not where but who you’re with that really matters.” There’s a lot of wisdom in rock ‘n roll. The building… the structure… didn’t (and doesn’t) matter.
What saddens me about moving on from that place is how the people I care about are gone. They’re no longer there. My family and friends with whom I shared all of those experiences have also moved on to (hopefully) bigger and better things. That’s what I’m going to miss the most. Not the bedroom. Not the finished basement. Not the backyard. No. I’m okay waving goodbye to the physical location. That doesn’t hurt at all. What hurts is having to say goodbye to the people.
The ‘Gang’ in High School (Unfortunately, I’m only still in touch with one of the guys)
There’s a quote that I can’t quite remember, but basically the gist is that no matter how far away you travel in the world, you’ll always be able to come home. With family and friends like I have, I guess home will remain with them and not boxed inside four empty walls where we used to gather.
I will miss my parents who are beginning a new adventure of their own into retirement. I will miss my sister who has relocated, married, and is now expecting her first child. I will miss cruising around, windows down, with my friends from high school, screaming Ben Folds Five songs at the top of our lungs. I will miss family gatherings at the holidays or special occasions like graduations and birthdays.
But everyone misses those things. Everybody grows up and moves on. We all look longingly back at our youth, to a simpler time, for answers to life’s hard questions. As I continue to do that, I also will look ahead at what’s to come with excitement and a hint of mystery. The unknown has always made me both nervous and enthusiastic.
I enjoy change. Jen and I continue to seek out new and wondrous cultures on a shared path. I remain confident that my loved ones are doing the same. So in that spirit, I take a deep breath and plunge forward into the future, not with regret, but instead with anticipation and the optimism that life always finds a way of working out and providing for us what we need most.
Never in my life have I experienced a culture with quite so much national pride than the people of Turkiye have. Americans are proud, but not like Turks. Italians are proud, but not like Turks. Japanese are proud, but not like Turks. The funny thing is, I can’t for the life of me figure out why. I was, and in many cases remain, clueless.
Throughout my elementary, high, and collegiate education, I can’t think of a single Turk we studied about in history class who made any significant contribution to the progress of humanity or society in any field: not science, mathematics, humanities, literature, or anything…. seriously. Nothing.
When One Turkish Flag Just Won’t Do…
Why then, are Turks such a proud people? Their patriotism is evident in their speech and mannerisms. The nation’s flag – a white crescent moon and star on a field of bright red – can be seen literally everywhere I turn (the number triples on national holidays). This jingoism is even illustrated in the way they grow their facial hair.
When I ask my kids, they invariably mention names of famous Turks who made a difference in their lives, and here in Turkiye. Not a single name is anyone I’d heard of prior to the discussion, yet they’ve certainly studied famous Germans, French, Brits, and Americans. Most of my students know Washington, Lincoln, Edison, Einstein, Darwin, and Pasteur. But American students don’t know about Ataturk, Fazil, Chelebi, or Rumi. These were, undoubtedly great men within the microcosm of Turkish history. Like the Monroe Doctrine did for the United States during the 19th century, Turkiye has developed in a way that only promotes, appeals to, and advances their own interests.
When asked which Turks have contributed to humanity’s greater progress, the names my students mention all end up being Persians, Arabs, or Mongolians (they think Genghis Khan was of Turkish origin – not that any of us think even he did anything worth mentioning). Ethnically, the Turkish people are descendants from the Urals in central Asia. Which brings me to my next point… They are the most aggressive people I’ve ever come across. They are so aggressive that boys and men say hello by tapping their temples together – an act resembling two rams with horns locked in combat. It’s funny to watch at first, until you consider the implications of such aggressive tendencies.
I’m not saying the Turks are a bad people. Many of my friends here – on an individual, one-on-one basis – are very caring and generous. They love to enjoy the little things in life: laughter, friendship, and the traditional cup of cay tea (about 12 times a day). However, as a whole, I found their civilization aggressive (unnecessarily), uneducated, naive, and filthy. I kept asking myself what these people have to be so damn proud of. So, I tried to craft a list (in descending order of importance)…
Money– This one is debatable because while the first coins used for trade were minted in Sardis (the capital of the kingdom of Lydia) near the end of the 7th century B.C., Asia Minor was – at that time – predominately settled by the Greeks.
Lady Montague wearing her Turkish Turban
Vaccinations– The invention of the smallpox vaccination is usually attributed to Edward Jenner in 1796. However, in 1717 Lady Mary Wortley Montague, wife of the British ambassador to the court of the Ottoman Empire, wrote about the practice in Turkey of deliberately stimulating a mild form of smallpox through inoculation, which conferred immunity. Edward Jenner later cultivated a serum in cattle which eventually led to the worldwide eradication of smallpox.
Women’s Suffrage – In 1934, Turkish women were granted the right to elect and be elected – the first women in the world given the right to an equal vote in politics.
Islam – In much the same way that Spanish exploration and imperialism helped spread Christianity across South and Central America, 600 years of the Ottoman Empire aided the expansion of Muslims across Asia, Africa, and parts of Europe between the 14th and early 20th centuries.
Cuisine– While Turkish food isn’t really that tasty, nor anything special to write home about (even though I did), the Turks are responsible for creating kebabs, baklava, lokum (Turkish delight), and yogurt. I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that other nations and cultures around the Middle East boast their own versions of kebabs and baklava including Greece, Iran, and Tunisia. Yogurt, on the other hand, is undeniably an invention of Turkiye.
Turkish Baths – The hamam, as it’s known here, is a variant of a Roman bath that’s been around for centuries. The patron enters a steam room to detox before being laid out on a marble slab to be scrubbed, massaged, and beaten by a teenage waif (either male or female depending on the hamam).
An Evil Eye of Tulips
Tulips– introduced from Anatolia in the 16th century by a Dutch ambassador, tulips started a European craze. Bulbs brought to Vienna from Istanbul in the 1500s were so intensely popular that 1634 became the year of “tulipmania” (they’ve got nothing on the Beatles though).
Seven Churches of the Apocalypse – Listed in the Book of Revelation, these seven churches were all located in the area known at that time as Anatolia: Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia and Laodicea.
Boldly Going Where No Man has Cared to Go Before…
Volitan– The proposed design for a solar paneled boat that utilizes both sun and wind power won honorable mention at the 2007 International Design Awards.
Those don’t really compare to the advancements made in other countries around the globe (but the women’s suffrage and vaccinations are pretty freakin’ cool). I mean, the volitan is hardly the steam engine and yogurt is hardly the light bulb. Unfortunately, the Turks haven’t added much value to the world in recent years. Will they get their proverbial act together? With what I’ve seen of their students and education system, the Magic 8 Ball I had as a kid would say: Outlook Not So Good.
I’ve been living and working abroad almost two years now and I’ve learned a lot about the world, other cultures, and myself. Without a doubt, the single most difficult aspect of being an expat is the inability to communicate even the simplest of messages. What would be basic, menial, everyday tasks in the U.S. quickly escalate to become overwhelming obstacles overseas. Thank you, communication barriers…
I firmly believe in the positive growth the experience of teaching English as a second language in foreign countries provides. I think everyone should live outside their home country (and comfort zone) for at least 6 months. People learn one way and assume that one way is the right way or the only way. People can take every advantage they have in life for granted. Living abroad realigns your perspective.
Culture Shock Doesn’t Help Matters
There are too many instances to go into (unless I wanted this article to be about 5,000 words), so I’ll choose a few of the moments that stand out in my mind. The first of which is the workplace, where I spend the majority of my time. When I obtained my TEFLCertificate, the program assured me I’d be immersed in schools and programs where the administration not only assumed I’d only communicate in English, but demanded I only communicate in English… at least in the classrooms.
They neglected to mention my colleagues – the other faculty – who don’t know how to speak or comprehend a single bit of my native language (and vice versa). While in Korea, I taught at a private, after-school, language academy with teachers who all went to college for English.
Yes, you read me correctly. They majored in English at their universities.
However, in spite of this they barely spoke to the native English teachers at all. The academy had students (9-15 who were more fluent than their teachers). In many cases, they knew all the grammar rules, yet had no practice speaking and were therefore too embarrassed to try. The teachers selfishly cared more about saving their own faces and reputations than welcoming foreigners into their culture – foreigners who felt isolated and often alone, living thousands of miles from home and unable to communicate with the general public.
Please Repeat, I didn’t Understand You… I’m Sorry, What? Bilmiyorum!
In Turkiye, I work at a private school. It isn’t a language academy though, it’s a legitimate high school offering every subject to their students: biology, chemistry, physics, history, geography, algebra, and literature… all of which are taught by Turkish teachers, in Turkish. The faculty as well as the administration here cannot understand the English teachers, nor can we understand them without the assistance of an interpreter.
There are even day-long Saturday meetings with faculty from all the other schools during which the morning consists of a 2-3 hour general assembly conducted in (you guessed it!) Turkish. Try to imagine yourself in a situation, going to work every day and being unable to communicate or bond with any of your coworkers. Unfortunately, this is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg.
Here are a few examples:
You’re out to eat with some friends, but you have a shellfish allergy. There are no photos on the menu and the waitress doesn’t speak any English. How do you communicate your allergy to them? If you can’t, what do you do? You get up and leave, eating somewhere else with menu pictures.
You need a cell phone, rather the school demands you get one. So you sign a contract and get your phone from the vendor on the corner who promises you up and down that you’ll only pay about $60 a month. When the first bill arrives, you notice he’s deducted almost $80 from your account. You approach his store and try to argue, but he points to the fine print in the contract – which isn’t even written in a language you recognize. One of the nicer teachers, who’s joined you, explains hidden costs. You don’t want to pay them and if you knew up front, you’d have chosen another phone, another service, another anything. But you can’t do diddly squat now – the contract is signed. Your name, in blue ink, right there, plain as day.
You’re on a public bus to a place you really want to visit, but have never been to before. You try asking the driver if its the correct bus; however, your pronunciation isn’t spot on and he looks at you like you’re crazy, unable to understand what you’re saying. So you shrug and sit back down for the next two hours as the bus completes its route – never once going anywhere near the place you wanted to see.
You need a haircut. You show the stylist a photograph of what you want and he begins. He didn’t explain to you his dislike for that particular style so you leave with whatever haircut he felt like giving you. Shut up and be happy about it.
You’re in a cafe and ask for a large decaf coffee. Decaf? What’s decaf? The barista scratches her head and hands you a cup of regular.
You’re at a bazaar and finally find the item you’ve been looking to buy for weeks. The vendor quotes you 35lira, but since you’ve only recently learned the numbers, you think you hear him say 85 lira. You talk him down to 40lira and proudly walk away thinking you’ve won when in actuality, you’ve given him more money than he was originally requesting. Some haggler you make!
You want to take a train journey to a nearby city. Once you’re there, you decide it’s a good idea to purchase your return ticket for that evening. You approach the counter and ask the woman for two tickets on the 9pm train – 21:00. Instead, she gives you two tickets for the train on the 21st of the month – three days later, but you don’t notice. 10 minutes before the last train of the night leaves, you aren’t permitted to board and you’re stuck sleeping in the station until the first morning train leaves.
You can’t sleep on the street (obviously), so you hire a realtor to show you some apartments. As soon as you sign the one year lease, the realtor hits you with your fees: first and last months rent go to the landlord and another full month goes to him as his commission – an expense you were completely unaware of as a foreigner – or yabanci. Does he care? Nope. This is his profession, his country, and his rules. So you pay him. Once you move into your new flat, you learn there are even more fees nobody bothered mentioning to you: building maintenance, cleaning fees, garbage pickup… on top of those, there’s a sudden rotten egg smell emanating from inside the walls that comes from Allah only knows. This stench, wasn’t there when you first saw the apartment – in late September – seems to get worse as the weather warms up. Oh well, you signed the lease.
Let me give you one more…
You’re at home, slicing up some veggies for dinner and you accidentally cut off the tip of your finger. You wrap it up, applying the necessary pressure to the wound in an effort to stop the blood loss, but it keeps coming. So you bite the bullet and decide you’d better see a doctor. What’s the word for doctor again? Right, you don’t know it. So you throw on a coat and some shoes and hike half a mile to the taxi station. You show the taxi driver your wound and shrug because you don’t remember the word for hospital or emergency room – although at one point you remember it coming up in conversation with your students.
Resembling the Overcrowded Turkish Hospital Emergency Room
Thankfully, between body language and gestures, the driver figures out that you need to go to a hastanesi and hits the gas. Once you get there you see the meter reads 10 lira. The driver, knowing you’re stuck, shuts it off and asks you to pay him 15 lira. What can you do? Not a damn thing. So you pay him and enter the hospital. Upon your arrival in the emergency room, you’re surrounded by people screaming, shouting, and crying – none of whom speak English, not the patients, not the security guards, not the nurses, not the doctors. Nobody.
So you again show your wound and the little English they know, they use to try and rip you off because you’re a foreigner and don’t know their ways. What? you ask. 5,000lira just to be seen by a doctor? But I thought I had national healthcare coverage paid for by my company? You’re telling me I don’t all of a sudden? And before you realize it, you’re out about $2,500USD (money that never gets to the hospital or the doctors because the girl at the front desk who explained how much it would cost, splits it with the girl sitting next to her and they go on a shopping spree – teşekkürler).
During your appointment, the doctor pours antiseptic on your wound and redresses it, explaining to you what you have to do over the next few days to prevent infection – none of which you understand at all, because he’s speaking a mile a minute in Turkish and remember, you don’t speak Turkish. He doesn’t speak English. End of story.
It’s a Small World After All…
I hope I’ve been able to relay just a bit of the anxiety associated with living overseas in a country that doesn’t share your native language. Life is, without a doubt, difficult, if not impossible at times as you’ve just read. I still believe that the advantages of this experience far outweigh the many disadvantages.
If you’re reading my articles and have a son or daughter graduating college in the U.S. without any means of gainful employment (or you are one yourself), consider teaching English as a second language overseas. I promise, the person who comes home will be better and stronger than the one that left.
The major, visual difference between Middle Eastern nations and their Western counterparts is the skyline. While America along with most countries in Europe showcase gothic style cathedrals complete with cross-adorned steeples, Egypt, Jordan, and Turkiye have mosques and minarets instead. Many people don’t know much about mosques other than their association with Islam; however, I found the history of their development rather fascinating.
The cuboid Kaaba (center) was supposedly built by Abraham as the first place to worship Allah (God).
The mosque (also known as camii or mesjid) is predominantly a place of worship for Muslims, although according to Islam, people can pray anywhere they want. The very first mosque ever constructed, Masjid al-Haram, is in the Saudi Arabian city of Mecca (visitors must prove their devotion to Allah if they even hope to enter the city), surrounding one of the holiest places the Kaaba – the focal point of prayer, and why Muslims in America and Europe must always face east while they do so. Interestingly enough, the word camii is used much like ‘church’ in Christianity in that it implies both the building as well as the community of worshipers inside. A mesjid is any room used for prayer in the moment it’s being used; it can be a bedroom, kitchen, or soccer field.
One of the five pillars of Islam requires Muslims to make a pilgrimage to Mecca at least once in their lives. Similar to synagogues, mosques don’t have any requirements regarding their construction. A square building with a square room can literally be converted into an official mosque without any hiccups in the process. Be that as it may, over the past thousand years, the architectural styles have changed drastically based on location, culture, and other factors. In some countries, you might not even be able to tell a mosque from an office building when you walk past. Not so in Turkiye.
The Unique Style of the al-Azhar Mosque (Cairo)
Hypostyle mosques, the earliest type, are square with inner courtyards. These are typically found in warmer climates to accommodate large numbers of worshipers for the Friday afternoon prayer. Persians began incorporating elements of their palace designs into mosques and it was in the area of modern-day Iran where the first arches (iwans) and domes appeared.
Central Dome and Minaret of the Selimiye Mosque (Konya)
The large, central dome wasn’t introduced until the 15th century by the Ottomans. Heavily influenced by the Byzantine architecture, Turkish mosques have unique looks all to their own – looks you won’t find in North African, European, or Arabian mosques. For instance, the Blue Mosque in Istanbul was built using smooth, straight, and clean lines. It looks almost modern in many ways (close proximity to Europe influenced architecture in this area). Mosques in other areas have a much more exotic appearance.
A common feature for most mosques nowadays is the minaret (trans: lighthouse) – a tall, slender tower situated at one or more of the corners of the structure (the HassanII in Casablanca boasts the tallest minaret). The top of the minaret is always the highest point because it’s used for the Adhan (or ezan in Turkiye) which is the call to prayer. The imam (Islamic priest or scholar) usually sings verses from the Qu’ran at least five times a day, guiding local Muslims to stop what they’re doing and join him.
Lit Minaret of the Hudaverdi Mosque (Goreme)
For the first hundred or so years, mosques had no minarets. The first of which was constructed in 665, supposedly in competition with Christian church steeples and bell towers. The caliph of Basra (southern Iraq) at that time wanted to increase the visibility of Islam. He hated how outwardly Christians worshiped by comparison and he encouraged his people to build minarets as well as to borrow the shapes and styles of the bell towers for them.
I Call This: Separation of Church and State (notice the ablution fountain in the bottom right corner)
Outside every mosque you’ll find a water fountain. Okay, it’s not really a water fountain. It’s a bathing facility Muslims use for their pre-prayer, ritual purification – aka Ablution. Believers must cleanse their hands, feet, heads, and faces if they’ve either been with a woman (sexually) or evacuated their bowels or bladder between prayer times (leading many to ‘hold it’ more often than doctor’s might recommend).
Interior of the Kocatepe Mosque (Ankara) – photo credit Jen Gardner
Inside most mosques are separate areas for men and women to pray, in spite of the fact that the Qu’ran mentions nothing on the issue of gender separation. Traditionally, women are permitted to occupy space behind the men, or on balconies along the edges of the main prayer hall. I’ve been told the reason for the segregation is to prevent women’s beauty from distracting the men who are supposed to be focused on Allah (why this fault belongs to the women instead of the men is beyond my level of comprehension).
The Golden Dome of the Rock (Jerusalem)
Most interpretations of sharia law allow non-Muslims to enter mosques providing they don’t sleep or eat (they also must remove their shoes as all Muslims do). One particular mosque, the Domeof the Rock – located on the TempleMount in OldCity Jerusalem, doesn’t allow any non-Muslim tourists to enter. It is also forbidden for anyone to take photographs of the interior. During this writer’s recent trip to the HolyLand, we were able to gain access to both.
On the contrary, modern Turkiye allows tourists into every mosque in every city, as long as the strict rules of conduct are followed. Bringing us full circle, the minarets and dome are what separate the skyline in Middle Eastern nations from those in Europe and the Americas. From my vantage point, there are 5-10 times as many mosques per square mile than churches in the States. That seems like a colossal waste of space to me when you consider the following two pieces of information.
One, Muslims do not have to attend services on a weekly basis in the way Jews and Christians are supposed to. While the main Friday prayer exists, it’s not mandatory to do it from the main worship area of a mosque. Two, none of the prayer times require attendance at a mosque at all. Muslims are typically allowed to pray anytime, anyplace, anywhere they so choose. They can even pray in their living rooms and many offices and schools (as well as shopping malls) come with prayer rooms for the convenience of their citizens.
Be that as it may, the beauty of the mosque architecture creates an other-worldly and exotic feel to any expats who live in those countries.
For most of my life, I’ve been fascinated by the mysterious, the enigmatic, the unknown, the hidden… esoteric philosophies, ancient practices, rituals, and rites practiced for thousands of years by those in the ‘know’… I’ve read books, watched documentaries, and gone out of my way to meet as many of these people as possible. This past weekend, with Jen’s help, I discovered another.
Dervish Cells at the Mevlana Museum – Konya
We took a trip to Konya – the largest city in Turkiye by square kilometers – to attend a very unique performance ceremony. Historically, the city was the capital of the SeljukSultanate empire (between 1077 – 1307). And during this time, a new sect of Islam was born in Persia and carried to Konya by a mystic named ShamsTabrizi – a spiritual instructor and founder of Sufism.
Sufism is to Muslims what Gnosticism is to Christianity. Essentially, Sufis consider themselves as the original true proponents of this pure original form of Islam. Many people contend that Sufism predates all religion.
Classical Sufis were characterized by their attachment to dhikr, a practice of repeating the names of God, often performed after prayers. Sufis believe they are practicing ihsan (perfection of worship) as revealed by Gabriel to Muhammad: “Worship and serve Allah as you are seeing Him and while you see Him not yet truly He sees you.”
Sema Dancers and Musicians
Classical Sufi scholars have defined Sufism as a science whose objective is the reparation of the heart and turning it away from all else but God. Muslims and mainstream scholars of Islam define Sufism as simply the name for the inner or esoteric dimension of Islam which is supported and complemented by outward or exoteric practices of Islam.
One of these exoteric practices is the dance of the whirling dervish. The whirling dance is best known by the Mevlevi Order in Konya, and is part of a formal ceremony known as the Sema, the purpose of which is to reach religious ecstasy. The term dervish refers to an initiate of the Sufi path of Islam.
The Sema was traditionally practiced in the samahane (ritualhall), and every Saturday night, free of charge, at the Mevlana Kultur Center in the middle of Konya. According to a precisely prescribed symbolic ritual, the dervishes whirl in a circle around their sheikh, who is the only one whirling around his axis. They wear a white gown (symbol of death), a wide black cloak (symbol of the grave) and a tall brown hat (symbol of the tombstone).
The whirling dervishes are representative of the moon and they spin on the outside of the Sheikh who is representative of the sun. They spin on their left foot and additionally, they have their right palm facing upwards towards Heaven and their left hand pointing at the ground. The dance they perform is broken up into four parts.
Naat and Taksim
Naat and Taksim – Naat is the beginning of the ceremony where a solo singer offers praise for the Islamic prophet Muhammad. The first part is finished with taksim (improvisation in free rhythm) of the neyreedflute which symbolizes our separation from God.
Devr-i Veled – During the following Devr-i Veled, the dervishes bow to each other and make a stately procession in single file around the hall. The bow is said to represent the acknowledgement of the Divine breath which has been breathed into all of us. After all the dervishes have done this they kneel and remove their black cloaks.
One of the Four Salams (Notice the Black Cloaks on the Floor)
The Four Salams – The four salams themselves are representative of the spiritual journey that every believer goes through. The first one is representative of recognition of God, the second one is recognition of the existence in his unity, the third one represents the ecstasy one experiences with total surrender and the fourth one, where the Sheikh joins in the dance, is symbolic of peace of the heart due to Divine unity. After the four salams, this part of the ceremony is concluded with another solo Taksim.
Concluding Prayer – The fourth part of the ceremony is a recitation from the Qu’ran and a prayer by the Sheikh and then the Sema is complete.
Witnessing the beauty, elegance, and simplicity of the whirling dervish dance took our breaths away. I cannot possibly describe the emotions we felt that night. Jen was more excited to see it before we arrived, though during and after, I shared in her admiration for the practice as well as the skill of both the musicians and the dancers. I found myself admiring the Sema and the Sufis. I hope the photos convey a fraction of the ritual’s magnificence.
Whirling Dervishes
Whirling Dervishes
Whirling Dervishes
Whirling Dervishes
Whirling Dervishes
Until Next Time…
-Justin
PS – And speaking of the beauty and magnificence of the evening, we added to its specialness by promising our lives to each other… Jen and I are officially engaged!!! I love you, Rain Drop!
What began as a humorous blog about Turkish mustaches in the political arena has quickly morphed into what will most likely read as a stern chastisement of the current ruling party in the Turkish government. I had hoped to steer clear of this, however, recent events – many, many recent events – have made that all but impossible. There is simply too much to report on from here. I can no longer ignore the situation. So much has happened over the past six months, I’m not quite sure where to start. I feel a bit of back story is in order…
2014 is an election year, as is 2015. The former is reserved for local and regional elections while the latter will be for the national offices and posts. I noticed a series of political posters across the capital city of Ankara as soon as Jen and I returned from Egypt in early February. Since then, the political climate has worsened considerably due to the ever-changing policies of the sitting prime minister. He seems to be flying by the seat of his pants and his actions are either dictated by his mood or the direction of the wind – we’re not sure which.
Yes, the Man Never Smiles
His name is Recep Tayyip Erdogan and he belongs to the AKParti, or Justice and Development Party (the name itself is ironic). Most of you have heard by now that he blocked Twitter access across the nation. That decision follows a law enacted by the GNA – GeneralNationalAssembly – to limit freedom on the internet; a law which paved the way for an unconstitutional yet 100% legal ban of Twitter. According to the legislation, authorities – without a court order – can block sites and collect users’ personal data, under the guise of protecting the population.
The real reason is protecting the reputation of the government. It seems Erdogan is enacting his own personal vendetta against social media. Just a few days ago, the government banned Youtube for the second time in 3 years. The rumors are that Facebook is next on the chopping block. I can’t even access CNN news articles about the ban because they themselves have been banned (this is beginning to read like the opening credits to Monty Python film)!!!
Those Who Were Responsible for the Sacking, Have Been Sacked…
We have to back up to fully understand the implications of such a law. When AK first won office, they made certain promises. They reassured the Turkish people that they planned to follow the secular lead of the late Mustafa Kemal Ataturk. Those secular regulations and protections have consistently eroded over the past decade and now, Erdogan has more in common with Kim Jung Il than the founder of Turkiye (which shouldn’t be surprising considering his sketchy rise to power).
Erdogan was previously banned from public office in the 1990s following criminal convictions. When his party won the election, they altered the procedural laws regarding term limits (among other things) which then allowed him to run for parliament. Four months later, the sitting PM – AbdullahGul – resigned and Erdogan assumed control. Gul is now the President, a mostly ceremonial position and one that may not exist within the next year or so.
The Head Scarf Controversy (2008)
Since Ataturk’s time (1923–1938), Turkiye has made move after move to westernize the nation, an effort to appear more attractive to Europeans. They have applied to join the European Union multiple times and been shot down on each occasion. The constant rejection has altered the powers that be and created a 180 degree shift the other direction. In 2002, when the Islam-based AK Parti won the election, they promised to uphold the secular principles as written in the constitution. A promise that didn’t last long.
Prior to AK’s rise, women working in government offices and enrolled in universities were forbidden from covering their heads with the Islamic hijab (one aspect of Ataturk’s westernization plan). In 2008, a law – proposed by the AK Parti – giving women the ‘freedom’ to cover if they so chose, passed by a very narrow margin (this sounds great in theory, but in practice it does more harm to women than good). The people petitioned to ban the AK Parti from government, but the petition failed. Today, the veil can be see in even the most liberal cities. This is just one example of many illustrating how little in common the AK Parti platform has with the secular ideals established by Kemalism.
The government has been making a secret push to hire only the most conservative members of Turkish society, a move that will pull Turikye farther from the EU. If Europe won’t have them, then Iran, Iraq, Syria, and Saudi Arabia will. Which brings me to my next point.
Protesters Gather in Taksim Square – Istanbul (2013)
Erdogan responded quickly by firing those in charge of the investigation and replacing them with paid stooges. He claimed the corruption and subsequent flood of media information was spurned by his political rivals and denounced his former ally, Fethullah Gülen. Gulen is an important man with millions of followers in Turkiye, in fact, the school I work for is technically a Gulen school.
The only important element of the Gulen angle is that AK and Erdogan used to support him and now they don’t. He is one of the ‘rivals’ Erdogan is paranoid about and the US based Gulen (he currently resides in Pennsylvania) may or may not have been involved in leaking the corruption information. In addition to the corruption, there have been protests across the nation for over a year for a variety of reasons.
In May of 2013, the government sent out bids to contractors so they could bulldoze and develop over one of Istanbul’s few green spaces – Gezi Park. The people in Ankara, Istanbul, and other major cities took to the streets to protest and eventually Gezi Park was saved. Under Erdogan’s authority, police answered non-violence with violence and two protesters were killed.
Following the untimely death of the young boy, Erdogan banned Twitter – as I’ve already mentioned (the words Twitter Mwitter were actually used) – and last week, newspaper headlines read about leaked conversations between Erdogan and his son as well as other high-ranking government officials.
Scandal, scandal, scandal… It appears, nothing is beneath the current Turkish PM.
On Sunday, March 30th, the people took to the polls in local elections across the country. Unfortunately, as in many countries, nothing changed. Erdogan’s AK Parti took over 45% of the vote and won too many mayoral races in the major cities across Turkiye (and as guessed, there have been serious allegations of election fraud and at least a half dozen recounts so far). Twitter and Youtube will remain banned and Facebook is probably next. Someday, the people will learn that politicians can’t be trusted.
So, there you have it. Not too much about the prevalence of the mustache in Turkish politics (men can actually see a cosmetic surgeon in Istanbul for an implant), but you can read more about it here, here, and here. At the end of the day, I may not be able to tweet about any of this, but at least WordPress isn’t banned.
Following in the footsteps of Jesus felt both comforting and confusing. I booked the trip hoping to shed light on the events of 2,000 years ago; however, upon finishing the Israeli leg of the tour, I found myself asking more questions than had been answered. Sorry, this will also be a long one…
In my lifelong search for truth, I often get hung up on the facts, or rather, the lack-thereof. Most people simply make guesses. Some educated, some not so much. The truth is nobody really knows anything and oftentimes, they make it up. This was, unfortunately the case when visiting many of the places Jesus lived, preached, and died. I’ll go in chronological order according to his life.
Church of the Nativity Steeple – Bethlehem
In the beginning… there was Bethlehem. The small city is located in the West Bank – on the Palestinian side of the border and therefore, we had to cross through a heavily secured military checkpoint and pass through a great fence. Once inside, our journey was brief. There’s not much to see in Bethlehem anymore. Our singular stop was the Churchof the Nativity – the supposed location of the birthplace and the manger. While inside, it is possible for visitors to descend to the cave and touch the spot where the infant baby emerged into the world.
The original basilica was commissioned by Roman Emperor Constantine, about the same time he commissioned the HagiaSophia in Istanbul, on top of the cave that tradition states used to be a domicile for people as well as a stable for livestock in the cold, winter months. So if you happen to subscribe to the literal translations of the Bible stories and actually believe Jesus was born in Bethlehem and in a stable due to lack of room at the inn, then you’re in luck because all the pieces seem to wrap up with a tidy, little bow.
Currently, Bethlehem (approx. 7km south of Jerusalem) is predominantly Muslim and is also home to a shrinking Christian population. Our guide was a very enthusiastic Christian Arab who at one point in the tour, asked our group for an ‘Amen’ and was met with a few elongated seconds of one of the most awkward silences I’ve ever experienced (note: Jen stood front and center of the unimpressed group of tourists). He must be used to working for large groups of Christian pilgrims.
Notice the Christmas Lights
The next stop was Nazareth, known as the Arab capital of Israel. Walking around, the city felt similar to cities in Turkiye (and Egypt, though I hadn’t experienced those at that time). Biblical tradition states that Jesus was raised here for most of his life though there is a lot of controversy about this fact since there is no documented proof the town existed in the 1st century. Nazareth may not have been founded until hundreds of years after the birth of Christ (note: Jesus the Nazarene may in fact, be a reference to his political persuasion and not the region of his hometown).
Here, we doubled the number of churches we saw in Bethlehem. St. Joseph’s Church and the Basilica of the Annunciation are next-door neighbors to one another. The former is a Franciscan cathedral, traditionally said to be located over a cave that was the home of Joseph – Jesus’ dad. Looking down into the cave, its hard to imagine Jesus having been raised in such tight and rocky quarters.
Cave Home to Joseph, Mary, and Jesus
The latter, was established as the location where Mary received the news from the ArchangelGabriel that she would become pregnant with the Son of God. Similar to the previous two churches, this one is also built atop a grotto said to have been the childhood home to Mary. How Mary and Joseph lived so close, without knowing each other is a bit of a head scratcher; however, as I mentioned previously, all of these are simply educated guesses. Nobody really knows anything.
After leaving the somewhat disappointing Nazareth, we traveled east toward the SeaofGalilee and three additional sites: The Mount of the Beatitudes, the small fishing village of Capernaum, and the River Jordan. Located along the northern shore of a very large, yet peaceful body of water, the area surrounding the mountain and the town is said to have been the place where Jesus conducted most of his three-year ministry.
The River Jordan @ the Place of Jesus’ Baptism
It was in the River Jordan where John the Baptist dunked Jesus in the waters to purify his soul and prepare him for his quest.
On the mountain, overlooking the serene water, Jesus delivered the most famous of his speeches: The Beatitudes. It was also for this massive crowd – people who walked days simply to hear him speak – that he performed the miracle of the fish and loaves, feeding them all until they had their fill.
The Sea of Galilee from the Mount of Beatitudes
And Capernaum was home to most of his disciples. He found some of the 12 fishing in boats and along the banks of the sea when he exclaimed, “Come with me and I will make you fishers of Men!” It was also on the Sea of Galilee where he supposedly walked on water. We toured the remnants of the town, although there’s not much remaining, and took a boat cruise around the sea (on which the operators insisted on playing contemporary Christian praise band music at high decibels – good music, but very out of place on a wooden boat modeled after the kind 1st century fishermen would’ve used).
The centerpiece of Capernaum is the traditional home of St. Peter – over which an octagonal, Catholic church was constructed – nothing much remains than a crumbling pile of rocks. Additionally, the ruins of one of the oldest (and largest) synagogues in the world lie at the northern-most edge of the town. It was in this synagogue that Jesus, at the ripe age of 12, quoted the scripture to the Jewish elders while both impressing and scaring them; however, much of the structure has been dated to be only as old as the 5th century.
From Galilee, Jesus and his followers marched into Jerusalem during Passover. Most Catholics remember the stories about Palm Sunday when people threw down palm branches for the King of the Jews to triumphantly ride (on a donkey) through the city gates. The Holy Week events – aka the Passion – take us from that very Palm Sunday entrance to his burial and resurrection.
The Jewish Quarter – Old City Jerusalem
The outer walls of OldCityJerusalem were built by the Ottoman Empirein the 15th and 16th centuries, so it’s unclear just how much of the current old city existed in Jesus’ time. That fact in and of itself is part of the reason so much speculation exists regarding what happened where. King Solomon’s Temple was destroyed many times over and the only remaining, original, temple wall is on the western side, smack dab in the center of the Jewish Quarter.
The Wailing Wall, as it is unofficially known, is the most sacred site recognized by the members of the Jewish faith and has been a site for pilgrimage and prayer for hundreds of years. Most of the still buried wall, is divided into a section for women and another for men. Men are allowed entrance through Wilson’s Arch – inside which is a library of scholarly Jewish tomes and dozens of men studying and praying.
The Wailing Wall and Wilson’s Arch
The wall borders the Temple Mount (now home to the Dome of the Rock), the courtyard where Jesus and his followers incited a riot, overturning money-changers’ and vendors’ tables in an attempt to cast them from the holy site. It was this act of defiance against the Roman Occupation of Judea that led directly to Jesus’ arrest in our next location.
The Garden of Gethsemane is perhaps the only 100% proven location for Jesus’ time in Jerusalem. According to the Gospels, Jesus and the 12 retired to this grove of olive trees following their ‘Last Supper’ and it was here that he prayed, asking God to take away his burden, and was arrested by a legion of Roman centurions. The word Gethsemane literally translates to ‘oil press’ and many of the olive trees are thousands of years old and may be the exact trees Jesus walked between and sat beneath.
“Take this Cup Away from Me, for I don’t Want to Taste its Poison.”
Adjacent to the garden, and resting at the foot of the Mount of Olives, lies the CathedralofAgony, built by Italian designer and architect Antonio Barluzzi, which is said to house the section of bedrock where Jesus cried and prayed prior to his arrest. I became very emotional while wandering around the garden (mostly because I kept hearing ‘I Only Want to Say’ from Jesus Christ Superstar on repeat in my mind), but was disappointed by our guide’s tendency to brush quickly through the most important spots (including the garden) without much knowledge or care about what happened here. I longed for a moment of reflection; a moment to simply sit with my thoughts and absorb as much of it as possible.
This point in the tale is where the wheels fall off the rails. There is a lot of debate between the various sects of Christianity regarding the precise location of Jesus’ trial by Pontius Pilate where he was presented to the crowd who condemned him to death by crucifixion. This event is the pivot by which the rest of the quest balances, and I was disappointed to find my concept of the tourist area rapidly unraveling.
The Via Dolorosa in Old City Jerusalem
Traditionally, the Church (and when I say church, I mean the Holy Roman Catholic Church – that controlled most of Christianity for the first 1,500 years) placed the spot of the trial just across the street from the Temple Mount. It is the first stop along the contemporary Via Dolorosa. The Way of Suffering begins here and heads west, turning and bending slightly, until reaching the Church of the Holy Sepulchre – located just inside the current outer walls. If you follow their tradition, following in the footsteps of Jesus is easy and without question.
However, I found it very hard to believe – from what I’ve studied – the this very straight and short, cobblestone road, which is within the city walls entirely, could be the path Jesus carried the cross. Without any understanding about where Pilate’s trial took place, there’s no way to accurately map the true Via Dolorosa! Perhaps it runs east to west, but it could just as easily run south to north. Instead of ending near the Jaffa Gate, it could end near the Damascus Gate. Nobody really knows – a recurring fact I found very frustrating.
The Rock of Golgotha
As for the Holy Sepulchre, the Gothic church was constructed in an overdone and gaudy way. The location as a whole is said to contain three important sites:
Golgotha (place of the skull) – the hill on which Jesus was crucified
The Stoneof Anointing – where Joseph of Arimathea cleaned and dressed the body of Christ
Jesus‘ BurialTomb
Joseph’s Stone of Anointing
The problem, as far as I’m concerned, is the geographically close proximity all these sites have with each other. I’ve read dozens of books (as well as the Gospels themselves, hundreds of times) on the subject, and from what I can tell, Golgotha would’ve overlooked a major intersection outside the city walls (again, not knowing the 1st century dimensions of Jerusalem hinders historical fact-finding missions).
Likewise, the burial tomb was a cave in a garden not far from the crucifixion site, yet far enough away to be private land owned by Joseph of Arimathea. Standing inside an overtly Gothic cathedral in the center of Jerusalem hardly filled me with the solemn reverence it should have. Joseph wouldn’t have owned such a large and public section of the city. My gut told me something was off.
The Holy Sepulchre
And I’m not the only one. Over the past few hundred years, many scholars have rejected the Holy Sepulchre as the final resting place of the Son of God. In the 1880s, a protestant general in the British Army located a spot outside the city walls he believed to be a much better fit for the place of the skull. Today, the Garden Tomb is home to both a rocky hill that resembles a skull and a subterranean, rock-cut tomb unearthed in 1867. This place definitely felt more Biblical, though nobody can agree which is the true location – to repeat myself, because nobody really knows anything.
The Place of the Skull (right side)
In spite of all my reservations, I really enjoyed the trip as do millions of pilgrims who flock to the Holy city every year. While we didn’t see any re-enactments and processions taking place, they occur weekly (particularly near Christmas and Easter) depicting Jesus’ fateful walk with the instrument of his own demise. Needless to say, celebrations follow.
The Church of the Holy Sepulchre
While I was disappointed with the lack of concrete evidence along the tour itinerary, I got very emotional more than once. Even though it’s not known for sure what happened where, as you stroll along the streets of the old city, you’re easily overwhelmed with wonder and awe that Jesus and his followers also walked these streets (today, littered with cars). I recommend everyone travel there once in their lives, for even if you’re not a Christian by faith, it’s impossible to downplay the importance and impact Jesus has had on our civilization over the past two millennium.
Egypt was, without a doubt, the most interesting country I’ve ever visited. Between the filth, the danger factor, and the sight of the pyramids, three days in the northeastern most African nation were a whirlwind from the moment we stepped foot across the border. What follows is my best attempt to capture every emotion experienced from start to finish. I hope you enjoy!
As soon as we entered, we were greeted by a middle-aged man named Magdy who escorted us through the entry process which included exchanging our money into Egyptian Pounds, getting our passports stamped, and paying border taxes (approx. $30 USD per person). When we arrived at the tour van, we met two additional travelers with us: the driver and our own personal security guard. The first day involved a 10 hour drive around the Sinai desert peninsula.
Our Desert-Crossing Route
Magdy explained to us that since the road that cuts through the center of the desert (near the spot Moses received the 10 Commandments from the burning bush) wasn’t secured by the army, we’d be taking the long way around using the secured road. Apparently, the authorities were notified in advance that a pair of American tourists would be traveling the Sinai peninsula so the tour company brought ample copies of the paperwork – complete with an affixed seal from their Ministry of Tourism.
One of the Many Checkpoints between Taba and Cairo
It was a good thing they came prepared because every 20-30 kilometers, we were stopped at a security checkpoint. Each one featured a machine gun turret behind a wall of sandbags, armed guards checking our passports as well as the driver’s credentials, and blockades along the road so that we had to slowly swerve between the obstacles. On one occasion, we stopped and waited over 45 minutes for a police escort only to have the bright blue pickup truck (with more machine guns) that eventually arrived, drive behind us for a few hundred meters and then pull off again. We were left alone for most of the trip.
For the duration of our journey, the Red Sea could be seen outside the left window. We drove south from the Taba border until we reached a resort city right near the tip called Sharm El Sheikh and then back up the western coast until we reached the Suez, at which point we passed – through massively heavy traffic – into the African mainland for an additional 2 hour drive to the capital city of Cairo (see map above).
Our Security Detail (Yes, he’s Packing)
I can tell you, in all honesty, that day was the scariest of my life. My imagination ran away with me since anything could happen at any moment. Recently, a tour bus full of South Korean Christians was attacked by a jihadist group. Since then, the Egyptian government has closed the Taba border and the roads on the Sinai. I’m so glad we got in before any of that happened (and even more glad we weren’t attacked – as I’m sure my readers are)! Thankfully, once we were safely inside the hotel in Cairo, everything felt different and we were able to relax and enjoy the next two days.
Day one was mostly uneventful, although we spent a few hours in the National Egyptian Museum where we saw many of the treasures from King Tut’s tomb. The rest of the day was a wash, but what I’d like to draw your attention to has little to do with the sites and more to do with the city itself. Without a doubt, it was the most disgusting place I’ve ever been (and I’ve been to Cambodia and lived in Turkiye).
The sides of all the buildings were caked in a brownish dust that had accumulated over decades. The air was thick with a sandy haze that the population inhaled daily. The roads were so congested they made North Jersey roads look like empty parking lots. The streets and intersections didn’t have any lanes or traffic lights and as a result, drivers did whatever they wanted to do whenever they wanted to do it. In fact our own van was involved in minor fender-benders on two separate occasions!
In addition to the dirty and awful traffic conditions, the people (other than those employed by the tourism industry) were extremely aggressive. I’m not sure if the rest of North Africa is the same, but because of the way people approached us and spoke to one another, I worried about being accosted. The vendors were in a league of their own. If you even so much as acknowledge anyone trying to sell you something, they don’t leave you alone. They’ll follow you around like a lost puppy dog hoping for some table scraps. Interestingly enough, those who sell rides on horses, donkeys, and camels offer them for FREE only to turn around and charge you simply to get OFF their animal!
The River Runs Through the City Center
In between stops, we passed by the Nile a few times and were educated in a bit of river history. Until the government built a dam in 1971, the Nile would flood from the city center to the Pyramids! Because 93% of Egypt’s land is desert, people needed places to develop housing and the dam created extra land for people to live on. This is the major reason internet reviews read so disappointingly. Nobody wants to the nasty Cairo skyline to tarnish their pyramid photos.
Personally, I didn’t feel the city encroached on the UNESCO site much. Sure, some building could be seen from the distance, but they were far enough away to avoid stealing any of Giza‘s majesty. At any rate, if you happen to catch a glimpse of a Great Pyramid photo that makes them look like they’re in the middle of the desert, it was taken prior to 1971.
Day two was the highlight of Egypt and one of the highlights of my entire life. We visited a series of pyramids starting with the very oldest and ending with the GreatPyramids and the Sphinx. We even descended inside one! Upon entering a pyramid, we learned that the valuables had been stolen as early as 900 BC. By the time the tombs were discovered in the 1800s, they’d been empty almost 2,000 years! The treasure hunters didn’t have a prayer of getting rich.
Authentic, Inner-Tomb Hieroglyphics
The pharaohs wanted to bring all their worldly possessions to the afterlife, but they couldn’t build their tombs without help. The ancient kings of Egypt employed thousands of workers to accomplish this gargantuan goal (and I use the term ’employed’ in its loosest interpretation). The men who designed the tombs – who weren’t wealthy by any stretch of the imagination – made maps of the floor plans, keeping them hidden from the Pharaoh.
Eventually, when they grew older and were about to die, they passed this very unique document to their son, who intern, did the same. For generations, the ancestors of the pyramid builders passed the treasure map from father to son until finally, the builder’s great-great grandson took an expedition and robbed the riches from the tombs… severance pay for 20 years of labor. If the pharaohs ever arrived in the afterlife, they would’ve been angry as hell for eternity without their jewelry, spices, clothes, and furniture!
Since all the tombs were discovered already having been emptied, how did Tutankhamen, with all his wealth, outlast the raiders? The answer is that King Tut was a very young and sickly ruler. He died in his teens and the pharaohs who followed didn’t like him. They felt he didn’t do anything worth remembering. So, in an effort to erase Tut’s memory from existence, they built their tombs on top of his, thereby obscuring it from anyone looking around. When the pyramids were razed, the robbers didn’t even find the entrance to Tut’s burial chamber!
WOW!
The Great Pyramids are amazing. I’m not sure what else to say as words and pictures will never compare to the feeling of standing in Giza, in person and looking out over them, standing on them, and marveling at the wonder in their construction. It’s actually a shame their purpose was nothing more than housing dead corpses.
In the year 2000, I visited ChichenItza in Mexico. Those step-style pyramids are fantastic sites as well (I really enjoyed the story about how they were built in relation to the position of the sun on the equinox); however, the largest of the Great Pyramids is over 150 meters high! Standing in their shadow made me realize how small we are. Each individual block weighs at least 2 tons! Can you imagine having to help stack them on top of one another? Good thing the Nile used to flood that far for a few months every year.
Say Cheese!
The Sphinx, contrary to common knowledge, is nothing more than a statue. It was carved from a solid block of limestone on orders from the Pharaoh Khafra. All sphinxes, including the Great Sphinx of Giza, illustrate the face of a man on the body of lion. This combination is said to symbolize the combination of wisdom and strength that all leaders in Egypt possessed. Before arriving, I thought there was more to the sphinx than that; still, it is a very impressive location to visit.
Obligatory Pyramid Pose
Our visit ended with a painful bout with Pharaoh’s Revenge – aka Egyptian Tummy Bug, aka Delhi Belly, aka Traveler’s Diarrhea. For lunch on our final day in Egypt, we ate some falafel from a street vendor. Apparently, the pita bread used was baked with water tainted with the third world bacteria that my system isn’t used to at all. I spent the first three days at home hobbling between the bed and the toilet. Thankfully, it only took a few days to get over and I’m back to normal. Jen ate the same falafel, but don’t ask me how she was able to avoid the tummy bug.
Everyone should visit Egypt once in their lives – and probably only once because I doubt I’ll ever go back of my own volition. With any luck, the political situation there will improve so foreigners will again feel comfortable taking a trip to this Wonder of the Ancient World!
“Across the desert and through the mountain to the Canyon of the Crescent Moon, to the temple where the cup that holds the blood of Jesus Christ resides forever.” – Indiana Jones
In the summer of 1989, the most famous archaeologist in cinematic history blazed into theaters on a Last Crusade to reclaim the Holy Grail. And thus was born this writer’s obsession with the filming location of Petra, Jordan.
For those of you who don’t know, Petra is one of the most unique places on the planet (probably the reason that Spielberg and his location managers chose it for the final resting place of the grail and the obligatory scene during the climax of the best of the three Indiana Jones films). ‘The Rose City’ is famous for its architecture: buildings cut literally into the sides of the rocky canyons. It’s breathtaking on screen and even better in person.
One of the Many Facades Carved into the Mountains
The city became the capital of the Nabateans around the third century BC and has become (since 1989) Jordan’s most-visited tourist attraction. Don’t ask who the Nabateans were though – nobody really knows for sure. The city was rediscovered in 1812 by a Swiss explorer who described the area as ‘half as old as time‘ itself. In 2007, Petra was chosen as one of the New7 Wonders of the World (also on the list: Great Wall of China, Chichen Itza, Machu Picchu, Taj Mahal, Roman Colosseum, and the Great Pyramids – the only remnant from the original 7 Wonders)., and it isn’t a stretch to figure out why. Additionally, Smithsonian Magazine named it one of the 28 Places to See Before You Die.
Vendors Sell Rides on Camels, Donkeys, and Horses
My first impression of Petra was the general filth at the admission booth and entrance gate (both under construction); however, my excitement for what I’d find inside the canyon resulted in a kind of tunnel vision and I was thus quickly able to shrug off this minor inconvenience. It’s difficult to explain the level of excitement I was feeling at the chance to dive into one of my favorite childhood films.
As soon as you pass through the gate, you’re met with a 1-2 km hike through a winding pass that dips deeper into the mountains, during which time, you’re treated to a few appetizers before you reach the WOW moment (see photos above).
The View from the Siq was Sick!
The narrow passage leading to Petra’s main attraction, the Treasury, is referred to as the Siq which is essentially Arabic for narrow pass. It’s appropriately named. To adequately convey my feelings the moment I passed through the canyon and saw the Treasury for the first time is damn near impossible. Overwhelmed is a good word, but words aren’t enough. Energy welled up from inside me and shocked my nervous system, almost to the point of collapse.
I felt as if every unfulfilled childhood fantasy had rolled up into this singular moment and instantaneously burst out of me in both climax and resolution (to use screenwriting terms).
The Treasury is Truly a Treasure
For me, this event was the pinnacle of all my world travels up to this point and I’d be hard pressed to top it in the future. As I wrack my brain, I fail to come up with another location that might end up having the same impact on me as the Petra Treasury.
Even now, I find my eyes watering up and I’m at a loss for words. We spent a great deal of time lingering around the Treasury (about a half hour or more), doing nothing except soaking in its majesty. I was as speechless then as I am now. I only wish for every one of my readers to experience the same feeling in their lives.
Jordanian Guard
The remaining few hours in Petra were interesting, but a let down by comparison to the beautiful and awe-inspiring Treasury. We saw some marvelous colors naturally occurring in the rocks and more carved facades as well as cave homes and tombs (apparently many ancient cultures dwelled in caves – who knew?). The photos speak for themselves and I’m glad since I’m out of words.
Recently, I embarked on the greatest vacation of my life: a two week tour of the HolyLand and surrounding MiddleEast. Thirteen days sightseeing throughout Israel, Palestine, Jordan, and Egypt. There was excitement! Adventure! History! Culture! Danger! And even a bout with some nasty bacteria. All in all it was, in a word, amazing. A truly once in a lifetime experience. Thank you Noah Tours!
Sorry folks, this will be a long one…
Approximate Path Taken by NoahTours
Our first stop – and the bulk of the journey – took us through Israel. We began in Tel Aviv where we took it upon ourselves to walk the Mediterranean coastline and the old city of Jaffa (Yafo). Historically, the hill on which Jaffa resides had a strategic importance since its possible to look out over the vast body of water to the west and the shape of the landscape was used as a natural harbor. Archaeological evidence suggests the area’s been inhabited for almost 10,000 years!
Modern Jaffa is home to 46,000 residents, most of whom are Jewish, as well as churches, synagogues, and mosques. Walking around the brick and cobblestone streets, the first thing you’ll notice is the plethora of high-end galleries and boutiques – art, jewelry, and clothing. It seems as though the residents and local government have been attempting to draw wealthy tourists to the streets.
The Square of Old City Jaffa
On day 2, our tour officially began and we took a bus southeast, first to Masada and then to the DeadSea. Masada is an ancient fortification that overlooks the lowest point on earth (1,400 feet below sea level). King Herodthe Great built a stronghold and palace atop the mountain, but the real story of Masada doesn’t begin until 150 years later.
Following the Jewish uprising and revolt against the Romans in the year 66 AD, a group of zealots (or sicarii) and their families fled Jerusalem to Masada. The Roman army pursued them and after years of constructing ramps in an effort to lay siege to the fortress, attacked. Instead of submitting to their enemies and becoming slaves, 960 inhabitants burned their stores of food and committed mass suicide. The soldiers discovered the bodies and nothing else.
A View of the Dead Sea from Masada
Far below the mountain lies the Sea of Death (or the Sea of Salt). The lowest point on earth has blossomed into a spa resort with companies on both the Israeli and Jordanian shores packaging and selling the various minerals found in the region as skin and hair care products. Thankfully, we brought our bathing suits so we could take a quick dip in the water.
The Dead Sea water contains such high concentrations of salt (over 34%) that marine life cannot survive. It isn’t only the deepest body of water, it’s also the saltiest. The presence of these minerals create such dense water, that humans will float with minimal effort. In fact, it’s actually quite difficult to stand on the sea floor!
Caked in Dead Sea Mineral Mud
The water acts like anti-gravity, constantly pushing upward. Because the minerals aren’t just in the water (they’re in the soil too), its recommended that visitors take mud baths and wash it off in the sun. The health benefits to your skin are supposedly, invaluable. I wasn’t too impressed, but it certainly was fun getting dirty!
Over the next week, we continued our tour through the land of Canaan. We stopped in Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Nazareth, and the Sea of Galilee (those stories will be in the next article). After following in the footsteps of Jesus, we had a couple days left before our quest would take us out of Israel altogether.
The only aspect of Jerusalem I’d like to mention in this article is the Dome of the Rock. Situated on the site of KingSolomon‘s Temple within the Old City (on the Temple Mount – aptly named), only people of the Islamic persuasion are allowed to go inside. However, Jen convinced the guard she was Muslim – thanks to her Turkish residence permit and a cleverly packed head scarf, or hijab. She became the first non–Muslim in over 15 years to enter and take photos of the mosque’s interior (prior to 1999, tourists were allowed to go in). Tradition states that the ‘rock’ on which the dome was built is the actual slab Abraham used to try sacrificing his son. God sent a ram/goat/sheep instead for the ritual, thus sparing Isaac (or Ishmael). For more information, check out my article: Isaac and Ishmael.
The Interior of the Dome of the Rock
We drove through the Golan Heights – a plateau in northern Israel that previously belonged to both Lebanon and Syria. Great battles were fought between 1948 and 1967 with armies marching through the valley. From the highway, it is possible to see both bordering countries. Other than a few trenches and underground bunkers, there wasn’t much to see and even less interesting about this area of the Middle East (except that the scenery is substantially greener than one might expect).
… No Roof…
While we were in northern Israel, instead of a hotel, we stayed in a Kibbutz – an interesting experience to say the least. If you’re unfamiliar, a kibbutz is akin to a commune, but it’s the Jewish version. Families residing in the kibbutz raise their children as part of the community – adults live in one building while all the kids live in another. Offspring don’t refer to their biological parents as ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ but address all the adults by first name. Life in the kibbutz consists of playtime, studytime, and even worktime.
Unfortunately, the biggest issue with the kibbutz was the remote and rural location. There was nothing around for miles (other than the Lebanese border – which we couldn’t cross in spite of our best efforts). Dinners, not provided as part of the tour costs, were prepared and served by the people of the kibbutz and cost $30 USD per person!
This doesn’t sound like a big deal until you consider the fact that until this point, we’d been spending about $3 USD per person for a meal. Neither Jen nor myself intended to break our budget so I pulled one of the servers aside and offered him a big tip if he’d ‘look the other way’ and allow us into the dining hall to eat. He agreed and for the two night stay, we essentially paid $6 USD per person for dinner – a huge savings!
The final day in Israel took us to Haifa, the nation’s third largest city, Akko and Tiberias. All coastal cities butting up to the Mediterranean, Haifa is famous for becoming the center of the Baha’ireligion and home to Mt. Carmel. Baha’i is an offshoot of Islam, created in 19th century Persia (present day Iran) by Mirza Husayn Ali Nuri and combines faith and science. Major tenants of Baha’i include:
World Peace
Equality of Men and Women
Universal Education
Cooperation between Religion and Science
Belief in One Universal God
Ancient Caesarea (Akko)
The city of Akko (formerly known as Caesarea) became famous during the Crusades and the Hospitaller Orderfounded and maintained a strong presence in the city during the Middle Ages and Renaissance. The oldest section juts into the sea like a narrow peninsula, which made it an ideal location for a couple reasons. The first was how easily the city could be defended against invaders, and the second was how quickly an invading fleet could be spotted. The Crusader Fort is still being excavated (much of it lies buried underground), but thankfully, our guide gave us an opportunity to explore on our own through the ‘in-progress’ tunnels. I truly felt like Indiana Jones for the second time in my life (please refer to the article on Angkor if you’d like to read about the first time). Sorry for the lack of photos, there was barely any light down there.
Speaking of our guide… Shooky was quite the character. He not only gave us a tour of the Holy Land, but also provided us with some much needed inside information on the tensions between the Israelis and Palestinians. Apolitical isn’t the adjective to describe our guide and he made his views abundantly clear from day one. Based on his views, it’s no wonder there hasn’t been peace in the region. It’s a shame that people expend so much energy playing the victim when they should be working to find creative solutions to the problems and actually get along for a change. I’m sure Rodney King would have a few things to say to the Israelis.
Panorama of Haifa from Mt. Carmel
I highly recommend traveling to this part of the world, particularly if you are or have been religious in the past. The three major monotheistic religions share so much history and culture in the Holy Land, I cannot think of a more appropriate name. If you decide to go, please note that there is one tour company: Consolidated Tour Organization (CTO) that all other private companies feed into. They will be the ones literally conducting the tour so when you go online to look for a company with good reviews, you might as well skip the middle man and hire them directly.
When I first heard Cosette sing the popular song from the musical Les Miserables, I had no idea that I’d one day actually visit the cotton candy castles of her dreams. Last week though, I visited just such a place in southwestern Turkiye called: Pamukkale. Who knew Cosette was even Turkish (I thought she was supposed to be French)?
Aren’t any floors for her to sweep…
Pamukkale is the site of hot springs that create travertines – sedimentary limestone deposited in concentric circles formed by the rapid precipitation of calcium carbonate near the mouth of the geyser. The location in Turkiye is perhaps the most alien looking in the world, although there are several other travertine locations including Italy, Indonesia, and the United States (Turner Falls, Lake Havasu, and Yellowstone National Park). It looks like snow, but I promise it isn’t.
The ancient Greco-Roman city of Hierapolis was built on top of the cotton-like mountain and the citizens used the springs as a spa of sorts. Great baths were constructed with huge stone blocks and linked together for ease of use. Unfortunately, the area experienced a series of massive earthquakes – the first of which hit in AD 17 and the most recent in 1354 which destroyed the city once and for all.
Until that time, Hierapolis was populated by the Greeks, the Romans, and eventually the Ottomans. In the early 7th century, the town was attacked and ransacked by the Persians. In spite of attacks and quakes, the springs continued to draw settlers and visitors for thousands of years. There’s not much else to say really, so I’ll let the photos speak for themselves.
A long time ago, I began these blogs about my experiences living abroad. One of my first articles discussed my impressions of the Korean education system. So far, I’ve been in Turkiye for just over 4 months and I’ve waited to write about the schools here for a number of reasons. First, I wanted to make sure I spoke to other native teachers in an effort to gain a bit of objectivity (after all, what happens at my school, may not occur at other schools). Second, I needed to ensure I had enough time to get over the culture shock of living and working in this very different culture.
The education systems of Turkiye and Korea are literally night and day – they couldn’t possibly be more polar opposites than they are. What’s important to grasp is that while Asian nations in general have highly valued education for centuries, Middle Eastern countries haven’t. In fact, until 1997 children in Turkiye were only obligated to attend school for 5 years. That law extended the minimum to 12 years in 2012 – that was one year ago. I’ll give that statistic a moment to sink in…
Soon as I turn my back…
The bottom line is: kids don’t like school. They aren’t used to school. And even the parents aren’t accustomed to going themselves or shepherding their offspring to care about education. The result is classrooms full of children between the ages of 5 and 17 who have very short attention spans, almost zero respect for the teacher, and a work ethic that permanently resides in the basement. Couple all of that with the way the administration runs the schools, and you’ve created the proverbial powder keg of a nightmare scenario for any teacher used to the discipline, order, and attention to detail found in western schools.
Which in turn, brings me to my next point. With few exceptions (I happen to work in a school with a great deal of support), the administration doesn’t understand how to run their schools. Private schools – the world over – are run more like centers of profit than centers of education, and Turkiye is no different. The teachers have little to no supplies, resources, faculty and administration support. The money goes directly into the owners’ pockets instead of into goods and services that would ultimately improve the quality of the students’ and teachers’ experiences. To go one step further, the native English teachers are often looked upon as second-class citizens by many of their Turkish counterparts.
The English Department at Necip Fazil High School
Additionally, the organization and communication is non-existent for the most part (again, my school is very good but I find this is the exception and not the rule). Meetings are unproductive and last-minute. Class schedules are in a constant state of upheaval (since Jen’s been working here, hers changed 3 times within a single week). There is zero new teacher orientation and most of us are simply thrown to the wolves on our very first day. Some of these aspects were the same in Korea, but compared to the Middle East, the Asian countries run their foreign teacher programs like well-made Swiss watches.
Unlike in Korea – where I worked in a language academy – the school here in Turkiye offers general coursework and therefore, I’m surrounded by faculty who do not speak English. The Korean teachers’ abilities communicating with me left much to be desired; however, it was light years better than trying to find common ground with a roomful of men who only know how to say thank you, hello, how are you, and good morning. Not that they aren’t jovial and generous, but when the students are exposed to grown men who haven’t bothered to learn English, you can guess how eager the kids are to put in any effort in the native teachers’ classes (I remember believing Spanish was much less important than math or science when I was a teenager – so I can hardly blame my kids now).
Ataturk always looks angry
Furthermore – and this may be the single worst aspect of the job – the students are given 10-15 minute breaks between every single class period, regardless of level or age. Basically, after every 40 minute block, hundreds of 6 year olds, 10 year olds, 15 year olds (whichever group the school caters to) run amok, getting themselves even more riled up and preventing the teacher of the following lesson from calming them down to begin the class. Students buy chocolate bars, sugary drinks, and other snacks and if they don’t finish them in the allotted time, they bring them into the classroom. They’re eating all day. It’s too much food. It’s too much sugar. And too much energy.
Imagine being an educator in a system that does everything it can to shorten the students’ attention spans? Adolescents simply do not need that much food during the day; nor do they need that many breaks. The breaks do significantly more harm than good. The breaks teach the students they don’t have to sit still, pay attention, listen to the teacher, or focus for longer than a half hour at a time. Turkiye is breeding entire generations of ADHD kids. I don’t really want to think about how this will translate into other aspects of their upcoming adult lives (career, relationships, family, etc.).
Students are rarely this well-behaved
The Samanyolu network of schools – a very conservative, religious, private system – consists of a dozen campuses in Ankara alone; however, you can find them all over Turkiye and the world. After the typical subjects (math, science, language, history), students must take a class called Religious Studies. I find nothing wrong with this, but what is intriguing is how often the daily schedule is altered due to the Salat – one of the five pillars of Islam that requires all males over the age of 14 to pray 5 times between sunrise and sunset.
Apart from the many challenges present, there are some interesting elements to the Turkish educational system as well. For instance, once the students reach the high school (or secondary school) level, they choose one of four tracks: Science, Social–Sciences, ForeignLanguages, or Turkish–Math. The chosen track determines the students’ schedule during the semesters and over the course of their whole high school career. If a student chooses the Foreign Language track, they’ll have more hours of English, German, and Arabic than a student in the Turkish-Math track who may have more hours of algebra, geometry, and calculus. After high school, they follow into the universities along the same track they’ve already chosen.
Yet Another brick in the wall
It’s very similar to the European style of education and one that the United States should seriously consider adopting. The truth is that not all students are cut out for college and not all students thrive in an academic environment. In Turkiye, this is the unfortunately the rule – not the exception. The US might benefit from such a system in which children who would succeed taking a technical path as opposed to further classrooms. Therefore, while teaching in Turkiye offers obstacles to native English teachers, policy makers in America might be able to improve our classrooms by taking a page out of the Turkish way of doing organizing the students into different paths (only a page… not the entire book).
The namesake of the school at which I work is a man named Necip Fazil Kisakurek. Coming into the job with the perspective that I had little (if any) information about Turkiye, Turkish culture, and Turkish celebrities, I knew there would be a lot to learn. When I entered the school for the first time, I noticed the huge portrait etched into tinted glass hanging on the lobby wall, but I had no idea who this Necip Fazil was nor did I recognize his importance to Turkiye or to our students.
I wondered what my kids know about him. I was curious as to their thoughts and opinions about the man Samanyolu named their school after. That being said, I figured instead of simply writing facts and data about Mr. Kisakurek (that you can all google on your own anyway – or use the link at the bottom), I’d provide my readers at home with the opportunity to meet him through the eyes of the locals.
Enjoy!
-Justin
Nuri (16)
Necip Fazil was a positive thinker and a very good poet. I think we can learn a lot about his life. He says a lot of things about youth and life as a teenager. So as teenagers, we can learn a lot about life just from studying Necip Fazil. Our school is named after him because we should all try to model our lives after his. He is a role model for many people in Turkiye. He published his first poem in 1922 when he was only 19 years old. My mother used to read his poems to me when I was younger and she even bought me a book full of his writing. Whenever I read it, I’m filled with confidence and hope for my future.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Mutlu (15)
Necip Fazil was one of the most famous poets in Turkey. When someone reads his poetry, it is certain he will feel smothered in deep feelings because his poems are full of words and ideas that affect people in great ways. He had a way of drawing the mind to the heart and the heart to the mind, connecting logic with emotions. He forced people to think. He forced them to feel the truth in the moment and it was his hope that we would all grow in our quality. He taught the people of Turkey to hope. In short, he was able to conquer his heart and lose himself in it at the same time.
Burak (16)
Who was Necip Fazil? He was one of the most famous poets and playwrights of the 20th Century in Turkey. His popularity grew because of his use of effective imagery and profound themes in his poetry. He has a lot of fans, even today. Additionally, he is viewed as a Patriot for the Republic due to the many solutions he suggested for our nation. He predicted some of the problems we have faced since his death. He expressed these opinions and ideas in his magazine called, Buyukdogu, which means Grand East. According to him, Turkiye will grow strong and solve all problems through the peaceful mindset of Islam. That is the main reason why millions of people believe him to be a very important man.
Halas (15)
Necip Fazil was a great poet and writer of plays. What I like most about him is how clever he was. His poems are very deep, full of meaning, and are pleasant to listen to. He has a very interesting life story that helped him create beautiful words. He was an alcoholic at one point in his life and homeless during another. Many people looked on him pathetically, but one day he met a wise man who changed his understanding of the world. After, he began writing about hope and optimism – giving advice to young people and caring about living and sharing a better way of life with everyone.
A Portrait of the Artist as an Old Man
Sedat (16)
Necip Fazil is one of the most important poets and Islamic philosophers. What makes him the best is the spirit of his poetry. It isn’t just beautiful words and shiny sentences. The spirit is found in the meaning and that meaning can change based on the mood of the person reading his writing. A lot of the time, he spoke about the other world – the world in which we will live forever – whether in pain or in comfort and joy. I think he wrote poems for the purpose of imparting knowledge on future generations. His poetry speaks to the young and his messages are universal. He knew knowledge is the most important weapon regardless of age or nationality. His life was full of suffering, but he is honored in death. That is one of the reasons we have given his name to our school – to honor his contributions in educating young people. It makes me sad though that over 50% of the students don’t know who he was or what he did for our country.
The Corpse’s Room
A room, blinds lowered, a candle on the floor And on the floor a naked shirt vivified by its fear; The shadows of nails on milk-white walls, Now neither rustling nor sound of footfalls. He lies flat in bed, all tall and long and dead, Covered in a sheet pulled up to his head. On the bed-clothes his toes leave their trace,
By candlelight so wan and languid and dull his face. Hands to his sides, last breath spilled from his breast, Eyes, a colored window, on the nailed wood ceiling rest. At the corner of his drooping lips there is a line, A little line, tiny, trembling for just a bit of time, An instant hanging on his drooping lip atremble. Clearly he went of a sudden without a struggle. This is my own death, this is death for me. When mine has come, this is how it will be.
The lyrics to this age-old Christmas carol (and dozens more like it) are familiar to everyone in the western world, but most do not realize the facts behind the legend nor the man behind the myth that is Santa Claus. Living in the cradle of civilization has opened my eyes to new cultural perspectives and a new global way of thinking. Being a teacher, it’s my job to educate young minds; however, I’ve been learning a thing or two myself over these past couple years living overseas.
The real stomping grounds of St. Nick are quite far from the North Pole
Also known as the ‘Wonder-Worker’, Nikolaos of Myra had many miracles attributed to him. He was born in Lycia – the modern day city of Demre in southwestern Turkiye, on the Mediterranean coast – in the latter half of the 3rd century and did most of his good works in the 4th. The region’s inhabitants, at the time, were predominately Greek and politically part of the Roman diocese of Asia. Nikolaos was no different and, as the only son of wealthy Christians, became very religious at an early age.
He became a bishop as a young man and in 325 AD, joined Constantine at the First Council of Nicaea (also in Turkiye) where he defended an orthodox position and signed the Nicene Creed. According to legend, the man who would be saint solved a horrific crime in which a butcher murdered three boys to sell their flesh (posing as ham) during a famine. St. Nicholas resurrected the boys with a few prayers.
The Dowry of the Three Daughters
In another, more famous, tale St. Nicholas heard about a poor man who had three daughters he could not afford a dowry for, which meant they’d be forced into prostitution. In response to the story, he visited them under cover of darkness and threw three purses filled with gold coins – one for each daughter – into the window of their house for three consecutive nights. One variation of the story describes the youngest daughter, having washed her stockings and hung them over the fire to dry the night before, waking up to find them full of the gold St. Nick dropped down the chimney!
At least the white beard’s correct…
It isn’t difficult to make the leap from savior of potential prostitutes to gift-giver of good little boys and girls. Our present day iteration of Santa Claus was created in the 19th century by cartoonist Thomas Nast (the round little belly that shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly); however, in 2005, a scientific survey conducted of the bones buried in St. Nicholas’ crypt – located in Bari, Italy – revealed that, in reality, he was only five feet tall and had a broken nose.
Recently, at least in the major cities such as Ankara, the Turkish people celebrate the Feast of Saint Nicholas without even realizing what they’re doing. They hang lights, give gifts, and some even put up Christmas trees. Men dressed in red velvet suits, whom they refer to as Noel Baba – or Father Christmas – can be seen in the shopping malls, although, most of my students believe his significance has more to do with the New Year than anything else.
Is there a secret massive epidemic of Turks converting to Christianity? No, but in all likelihood, those select few giving gifts and decorating trees aren’t devout Muslims either (99% of the country identifies their religion as Islam, yet only 45%-65% are practicing). Many Turks care about the man known as Santa Claus, albeit not in exactly the same way as western culture. They take great pride in knowing that an important figure in the United States and across Europe hails from their native land.
Nast’s 1881 Original Lithograph depicting his, and now the modern, version of St. Nick
The name Santa Claus comes from a blending of Saint Nikolaos (pronounced in eastern Europe as San Neek Klaus) and the traditional winter solstice celebration that takes place in the Netherlands, Belgium, and other local countries called Sinterklaas. Historically speaking, however, every culture throughout history has venerated this time of year.
In the ancient world, going as far back as the Neolithic, much of the day-to-day life was centered on a keen awareness of the sun, the stars and the annual cycle of the seasons. Humans, for thousands of years, maintained a very limited understanding of the physical world around them, and the return of the Earth’s only source of light and heat – during the wintersolstice – has been a time of good cheer and great celebration, both secular and spiritual because people weren’t sure they’d survive the harsh cold.
On the surface, the solstice celebration is about the promise of the greening of the earth and the warming of the days. But on a deeper spiritual level, the festivals honor the rebirth of light, as a metaphor, which guides and sustains all of creation. Christianity has adapted many of its traditions on the pagan religious practices, including festivities that chronicled the sun’s victory over the darkness and the gradual disappearance of the cold weather.
Stonehenge on December 22nd
Think about it… The seasonal celebrations all stem from simple astronomy! It’s sun-worship on a fundamental level. Spring festivals celebrate rebirth, full of flowers and baby animals. Midsummer festivals date back to the dawn of mankind, and the autumnal festivals focus predominantly on the harvesting of crops – with traditions stretching back to the agricultural revolution (approx. 10,000 BC).
Regardless of your holiday traditions or which of the dozen winter solstice celebrations you subscribe to, it’s evident that Noel Baba – originally from Turkiye – has become a major influence across the continents for almost two thousand years. People all over the world strive to emulate his generosity and hospitality through gift-giving and good fellowship. It is in his footsteps that I sincerely wish you and your loved ones a very happy holiday season!
On October 29th, the Republic of Turkey celebrated their independence. I thought it appropriate, since living in the capital city, to visit the mausoleum of the man who made that possible: Mustafa Kemal Ataturk. When I arrived, I was blown away by what I saw: thousands of Turks dressed in red and waving Turkiye’s flag (sometimes doing both together).
Anitkabir on Republic Day
Most days of the year, Anitkabir, is solemn and peaceful… not on national holidays. The crowd cheered and cried as they threw flowers on the grave of their founding father. They chanted: Mustafa Kemal in asker leriyiz, Mustafa Kemal in asker leriyiz, Mustafa Kemal in asker leriyiz… Which roughly translates to: We are the soldiers of Kemal. As I joined in their celebration (and chant), I found myself asking, “Who was Ataturk (the father of Turks)?”
After all, his name appears everywhere I go… bumper stickers, road signs, airports, bus stations, stadiums, buildings, and parks. His image can be seen on the sides of buildings, statues on just about every corner, and on all paper money (Turkish Lira) in circulation (I’m not joking – his face is on every single bill). How could an entire nation observe so much reverence for one man? What did he do that was so important to their culture, lifestyle, and legacy? So, I did some research.
Mustafa Kemal Ataturk (b. 1881 – d. 1938)
Mustafa Kemal was born in 1881 in Thessaloniki Greece, believe it or not. He joined a private, military high school without telling his parents; a move that propelled him into greatness and eventually legend. He’s not only credited with being the founder of the Republic of Turkey, but also given credit for leading the GNA Army (Grand National Assembly – Turkey’s Parliament) to victory in the Turkish War of Independence, almost single-handed.
His principles transformed Turkiye from a Muslim controlled monarchy (previously ruled by a Sultan) into a secular nation (though this change remains difficult to see at times and there are now those rising to power who wish to revert many of the changes he spearheaded almost 100 years ago). He built schools, alleviated the tax burden on peasants, and embarked upon the massive undertaking to bring his country’s politics, culture, and economy into the modern world. Personally, the way people here worship the man’s memory, I’d have thought he was the first man to walk on the moon. Alas, he’s simply their version of George Washington.
The information is sketchy as best (no 100% credible sources could be found), but essentially following the end of World War I – in which he fought and commanded his own units – the remnants of the Ottoman Empire, under the rule of the last sultan, wished to become a modern nation. The sultan ordered Mustafa Kemal to head to Ankara, a small village at that time, and gather support to reunify the nation. He rallied the people when he called for a national election to establish a new parliament and in August 1921, the new governing body appointed him Commander in Chief. Two years later, the fledgling (and not-so fledgling) country declared its independence. The sultan was officially removed from office.
Largest Statue of Ataturk in Ankara
During his presidency, he championed a great many issues both domestically and abroad. Education was his silver bullet and the literacy rates skyrocketed from 10% to 70% in two years after he traveled the countryside to teach peasants the newly adopted alphabet (difficult to read Arabic script was used prior to 1928). Additionally, he abolished the Islam state (Caliphate), made wearing a fez illegal, standardized the currency and national symbols (like the flag), created women’s rights (eighteen women were elected into the GNA in the 1935 election – more than any other European country at that time), established a workweek and weekend, modernized the dress-code, and created Turkish surnames (again, believe it or not, before his presidency Turks had no second names).
The Surname Law was adopted in 1934 and required all citizens to begin using surnames of Turkish origin – all non-Turkish names were outlawed so ethnic Kurds, Greeks, and Armenians living in the nation were forced to change or adapt their names. Muslims, as a rule, didn’t use name in the same way the Western civilization did. Typically, they carried profession titles such as “Efendi”, “Pasha”, or “Bey”. Ataturk, until the GNA gifted him the moniker ‘Father of Turks‘, didn’t have a surname either. He was simply Mustafa Kemal. Interestingly enough, it is currently illegal for anyone else to choose the surname Ataturk – it’s been retired like #42 in baseball stadiums across America.
The crowd of loyal Ataturk fans at Anitkabir on Republic Day
Mustafa Kemal Ataturk passed away at 9:05 am on November 10th, 1938 from cirrhosis of the liver at Dolmabahçe Palace, in Istanbul. The clock on the wall still reads his time of death. The last sultan, Mehmet VI was born in the same room in which Ataturk passed away. He was only 57 years old, but his legacy lives on in the cities of Turkiye, the lives of its citizens, and the culture of the Ottomans.
For my 34th birthday, I took a quick jaunt to central Turkey, an conglomerate of towns collectively known as Cappadocia (which roughly translates to ‘Land of Horses‘ in Turkish – as opposed to the Italian meaning of ‘thick headed‘ or ‘stubborn‘). In speaking with many of my new Turkish friends, I was told countless times that as a visitor to this part of the world, one of the most unique and special places to see (and one certainly not to be missed) is Cappadocia. I was skeptical at first; however, within the first few minutes of arriving, I was blown away by the alien beauty of this area.
Comprised of approximately eight individual towns, the section of central Turkey looks more like a location from an alien planet on Star Trek (or Fred Flintstone’s Bedrock) than anywhere on earth. The main hub of these towns is Goreme which is littered with hoodoos, or fairy chimneys – the main event of Cappadocia (note: every day hundreds of people wake up before sunrise to witness the majesty of the landscape from hot-air balloons). Hoodoos are tall, thin spires of rock, ranging in size from 2 to 50 meters, typically found in arid drainage basins and consist of soft rock that has been covered by harder rocks. The combination of soft and hard rock have allowed the residents of Goreme – dating back to the Hittites (1600 BC) – to carve out cave homes for themselves (and hotel rooms for travelers) with the greatest of ease.
Yabba Dabba Doo!!!
Chock full of fairy chimneys, we found many valleys surrounding Goreme, once home to monks and nuns who chose a monastic life away from the hustle and bustle of those ancient city centers. The Goreme Open Air Museum, the Zelve Open Air Museum, and the Selime Monastery offered additional protection in their seclusion and the soft rock made building chapels, wineries, and other religious rooms faster and safer. Not only could the monks disappear into the rooms they carved, but the chances any invaders would find the valleys at all were slim to none.
It is on this literal and figurative ‘surface’ level that millions of tourist appreciate the natural wonder that is Cappadocia… a much different tale is told when you look a little deeper, beneath that surface. Outside Goreme, we found a few underground cities that the early Christians used as hiding places when the Romans would turn their ugly heads and begin the persecutions. The ability to hide out inside mountains and under the surface for weeks or months at a time made Cappadocia an ideal spot for thousands upon thousands of Christians to live and worship in safety.
The Intersection of Six Underground Passages
The city of Derinkuyu is the largest in the area and could support a population of 3,500 people at any given time. The creators dug 8 levels down and included rooms that could be used for stables, churches, cemeteries, kitchens, wineries, pantries, and bathrooms as well as multiple exits, ventilation shafts, and water wells. Additionally, those hiding inside had the ability to roll circular stone slabs across the many passages, blocking any intruders from sections of the city where people could gather and wait for their enemies to depart (like something out of Indiana Jones).
The earliest mention of the name Cappadocia can be traced back to the 6th century B.C., but it is also mentioned a few times in the Bible. In the book of Acts, the Cappadocians heard the gospels from some Galileans shortly after the Resurrection. Additionally, any Catholic (with a good attendance record) will recognize many of the regional Anatolian cities from St. Paul’s Epistles, including: Thrace, Galatia, Ephesus, Antioch, Konya, Smyrna, Antalya, and Phrygia (all located within the borders of present-day Turkey). The history of this entire region is directly tied to early Christianity and after a lot of careful examination, it was easy to see why.
Cave Chapel (circa 800 AD)
Christians have long lived in Turkey, yet never have they considered themselves the majority, nor have they held great power and influence. The Roman pagans were in control during the first few centuries and then the Muslims took over around the 5th and 6th centuries. Still, Christianity has been able to maintain its relevance and importance in Turkey, particularly central Anatolia.
The first seven Ecumenical Councils
The Seven Churches of Asia (mentioned in Revelations)
The Council of Nicea (and the Nicene Creed)
Interestingly enough as well, the followers of Jesus Christ who resided in Antioch (not part of Cappadocia) were the first people to be nicknamed ‘Christians’, and if you’re interested in more information about the Hagia Sophia – the largest church in the world for a thousand years – please see my article about Istanbul.
There are many amazing sights in Cappadocia and I can’t recommend a visit to Asia Minor without stopping for at least a day or two. If you search, you’ll find many sites, lists, and reviews have labeled it one of the most unique places on the globe. I was certainly glad to have been there and experienced both the natural and man-made wonders (and walked/hiked about 20 km in total over two days). Great sites, great history, great food, and great exercise. Don’t miss it!
The Bosphorus Straits (from the top of Galata Tower)
A few weeks ago, I had the extreme pleasure of visiting one of the oldest cities in human history. Nestled in the cradle of the ancient world – a mere stones throw from the centers of vast empires like Athens, Rome, Persia, Mesopotamia, and Egypt – Istanbul is a vibrant, urban sprawl in which east meets west and contemporary meets antiquity.
Nobody’s Business but the Turks…
Just as Allah has many names (99 in fact), so too does the nation of Turkiye have an associated multitude of call-signs as well. The land first known as Anatolia soon transformed into Asia Minor and then became Byzantine, followed by Ottoman, until finally arriving at the present iteration.
Likewise, Istanbul was founded by the Greeks as Byzantium in 657 BC; however, the Roman emperor Constantine renamed the city after himself, claiming it as the new capital for the Roman Empire in 330 AD, Constantinople (or Konstantinopolis in Turkish). The city’s moniker officially changed to Istanbul in 1453 when the Ottomans took control – prior to that date, the locals had been using the name for almost 500 years.
Strategically located along the ‘silk road’ (the medieval trade route between Europe and the Orient), Istanbul began as one of the most significant centers in human history and is still considered a very important economic powerhouse. Straddling the ultra-busy Bosporus Strait, it is one of the few transcontinental cities on the globe. Additionally, Istanbul is split into geographic thirds so that two of parts lie on the European side, while the last remains firmly planted in Asia. Interestingly enough, it became the capital for not one (Roman), but four (Byzantine, Latin, and Ottoman) separate empires before Mustafa Kemal Ataturk relocated Turkiye’s principal city to Ankara in 1923.
In 2013, Istanbul is over 5,000 square kilometers; however, the oldest section of the city – the neighborhood formerly known as Constantinople – Sultanahmet, is a mere 4 square kilometers. It is within this area that most, if not all, of this city’s majestic history and splendor is found. It is fascinating to experience how the Islamic culture of the Middle East slams directly into the Judeo-Christian world of Europe – on every corner… If you are a traveler, Istanbul is not to be missed!
One of the Original Mosaics, Uncovered during the Restoration
Hagia Sophia (Ayasofya in Turkish) – The original “Great Church”, constructed in the 4th century and commissioned by Constantinus II, burned to the ground in 404 AD and the construction of a substitute began almost immediately. The current structure, however, is the third – completed in 537 AD on orders from Emperor Justinian (hehe) – as well as the oldest building I have ever set foot inside. It was converted to a Mosque during the Ottoman Empire and the Muslims made every effort to replace any and all Christian motifs, but since time was of the essence, the Sultan suggested they simply cover the tiled mosaics and frescoes instead of ripping them out and beginning anew. Thank God for small favors because Ataturk decreed the structure a museum and a national treasure in 1935 and plans began to restore it to its original glory – removing the Islamic designs and uncovering the centuries old Christian imagery. This is the most glaringly obvious place (other than perhaps the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem) to see the clashing of these two religions.
Galata Tower and a View of the 2nd Oldest Section of the City
Galata Tower – Almost as old as the Hagia Sophia stands a tower (just north and across one of the waterways) 67 meters tall that was originally called the Tower of Christ and built as a lighthouse. The original structure, much like the Hagia Sophia, burned down and the Italians moved in to rebuild it using stone, brick, and mortar in 1348. Once the Ottomans took over, they used it for fire-watch and the building often became a hero of sorts in saving other important landmarks. Today, visitors and tourists can scale to the top and look across the water toward the many wondrous sights of Istanbul.
The Courtyard of Concubines in Topkapi Palace
Topkapi Palace – This expansive castle-like compound was home to the Sultans of the Ottoman Empire for over 400 years. Comprised of four main courtyards, mosques, bakeries, a harem, a mint, and a hospital, 4,000 people once lived within the protection of its outer walls. Since 1924, it has been used as a museum in an effort to preserve history – and not just the structure. Contained in the ‘Treasury’ are various religious artifacts including many from the Prophet Mohammed (including fragments of his teeth and beard), as well as a sword the Turks claim to have belonged to King David, and a wooden stick supposedly Moses’ Rod. I may be a skeptic; however, you’d have to be pretty gullible to believe the staff of Moses – that God turned into a serpent – is sitting inside a Plexiglas case in a random Istanbul museum (sorry guys, no pics were allowed but you can Google it if you’d like).
Inside the Blue Mosque
Sultan Ahmed (Blue) Mosque – The most famous mosque in the world stands just on the other side of the garden fountain from the Hagia Sophia. Named by visitors due to the brilliant blue tiles adorning the interior walls, the Blue Mosque was built in 1616 during the rule of Ahmed I – who’s almost solely responsible for many of the still-standing structures in Sultanahmet (many Sultans of the Ottoman Empire were apparently very educated in a variety of subjects including architecture). The mosque is composed of nine domes and six minarets – far more than even the most elaborate of mosques. The inner ceiling is full of exquisitely detailed painted tile-work and the sheer awe one feels when entering is astounding (the size of the space is incredible and was hard to capture in photographs).
The Lounge of the Hamam
Suleymaniye Hamam (or Turkish Bath) – Having experienced the Korean bathhouse, I felt that the Turkish variety was a must on the to-do list. This particular hamam is one of the oldest in the city, having been built between 1520 and 1566 by its namesake Sultan. The building is lavishly arched and domed, with marble inlay work on the walls and consists of three sections: cold, lukewarm, and hot. Temperatures in the hot area can reach 140 degrees Fahrenheit! Incidentally, this is the only hamam in which men and women enter together. The best part of this experience was the marble slab on which I was scrubbed and exfoliated happened to be the slab of choice of the magnificent Sultan himself!
Basilica Cistern
Basilica Cistern – Also known as the Sunken Palace, was built by over 7,000 slaves in the 6th century under the orders of Roman emperor Justinian. The cistern is the largest of several hundred (believe it or not) beneath the city, located approximately 500 feet southwest of the Hagia Sophia. Today, it’s virtually empty although the room has the capacity to store 100,000 gallons of water! The source of the cistern’s supply was in the Belgrade Forest, 12 miles north of the original boundaries of Constantinople. The most interesting feature of the cistern is a pair of Medusa heads at the base of a couple columns in the northwest corner – one sideways and the other completely upside-down for the purpose of negating the power of her gaze.
Lost in Translation 