A Drop in the Bucket List

The Taj Mahal tops any number of must-see lists. And not without good reason. It is iconic, a majestic, beautiful structure, renowned as a tribute to love eternal. Its marble inlay that covers the arches and gateways is delicate and precise.

It is also India’s biggest tourist trap. At 750 rupees (roughly $13.50), its entrance fee is more than double that of most other historic places of interest. For perspective, that’s more than our nightly budget for a hotel room.

And of course it doesn’t stop there. The city of Agra is a veritable sales pitch played on loop. Tuk tuk drivers encourage you to stop at shops, stay in hotels where they get a commission. Vendors don’t understand that sometimes, no matter how low the price, you just don’t want what they’re selling. Everyone wants a cut, a kickback, a couple more rupees.

But, every once in a while fortune shines bright on our little trip through Nepal and India. First, our timetable landed us in the Buddha’s birthplace on the Buddha’s birthday. Then, we found ourselves in Varanasi on the day when the newly-elected (in a landslide) Indian Prime Minister was visiting the city.

Turns out, in Agra we got lucky again.

We arrived on the last day of a three-day holiday honoring the death of Shah Jahan, who built the Taj as his wife’s mausoleum. During said holiday, the 359^th Urs (deathiversary) of the Mughal emperor, the cenotaph chamber, which contains the graves of both Shah Jahan and his wife, is open to the public. Also, entrance is free.

Of course, free entry and a major holiday are not without their downsides – specifically the massive crowds that push and pulse their way through the gates. The line to get inside the Taj and view the tomb (opened once a year during the holiday), even during the height of an Indian midday in summer, was more like a mob four people deep, wrapping all the way around the outside of the mausoleum. Needless to say we only saw the outside of the building.

In the end it was a bit like a postcard, only far more crowded. Magnificent structure. Check on the ol’ bucket list. Happy we didn’t have to pay to see it. 

Sultry Sandstone

Bare asses, melon-breasted ladies, and entwined lovers entice tourists to central India’s Khajuraho. But these sexy scenes are nothing new. In fact, they’re between 800 and 1,000 years old.

The temples are often, erroneously, called Kama Sutra temples. The erotic carvings only compose about ten percent of the elaborately detailed imagery that covers all sides of the temples remaining in Khajuraho, but of course draw the majority of the attention. The other carvings depict daily scenes of musicians and farmers, women applying makeup, warriors preparing for battle, as well as numerous Hindu deities.

The erotic sculptures themselves shine a light on a couple of basic truths:

• apparently sex has always been what sells
• ancient Indian culture was clearly far less conservative about sexual matters than today’s India
• men throughout history have thought that breasts should be bizarrely cantaloupe-shaped  

But even without the draw of sexy statues, Khajuraho’s temples are awe-inspiring. All of the carvings, in their dusty pinks, are surprisingly well-preserved. The time and effort that must have been lavished on these buildings, built over the course of 200 years, is evident in the minute attention to detail. Gods and humans carved from slabs of sandstone are exquisite, even after a millennium.

Absolutely astonishing, the things humans are capable of creating. 

Chaos and Calm in Kathmandu

Flying into Kathmandu has the feeling of suddenly coming upon a pile of blocks spilled by some child giant; individual, brightly-colored, multistory buildings dot the landscape in jumbles and clusters.

On the ground, things aren’t much more organized. Dusty roads weave and wind. Buses, vans, cars, motorcycles, bicycles, and rickshaws vie for their place, honking and passing without mercy. Cows meander and graze in streets and empty lots.

But amid all the chaos, secreted away down side streets and back alleys, it is easy to find respite in the city’s numerous oases of religion. Temples, stupas, and shrines offer occasional bits of silence. Prayer flags flap in the breeze. Bells are rung. Tibetan child monks play games behind monasteries. Prayer wheels spin. Devotees circumambulate.

It’s a city of sound and silence. Of concrete buildings and of ancient Newari architecture. A city of Hinduism, of Buddhism, of Lamaism. A city of multiple languages, but also English. Tucked away in a valley, but surrounded by the world’s highest peaks.

It’s a city where serenity and history are available in all the commotion, if only one looks for it. 

Red Head

Native only to the jungles of Sumatra and Borneo, the orangutan is a rare and exotic creature. With a name meaning “forest person” in the local tongue, our distant relative is truly a sight to behold. 

Eerily human, extremely intelligent, and largely solitary, the orangutan spends the first six years of its life with its mother. Much of this time is spent learning how to build nightly nests high in the branches, as well as the ins and outs of the diverse and complicated diet that gives these critters sustenance – primarily a wide range of fruits, supplemented by plants, honey, bark, and occasional bird eggs or insects.

Large, gangly-limbed, with frizzy red hair, orangutans still somehow manage to exhibit grace and ease while swinging from tree to tree high above the forest floor. No easy feat when you weigh up to 250 pounds.

It is a majestic and magical experience to witness such a rare, solitary animal in its native habitat. Perched high in the safety of the trees, the orangutans can be as interested in the people below as we are in it. And with any luck, this interest, this intrigue, will fuel efforts to keep the number of orangutans up, to keep the jungle from reducing in size, and to keep the devastation humans can bring from encroaching farther into the realm of the wild. 

A Church of a Different Color

Ethiopia has a rich religious tradition. While there is a smattering of Muslims throughout the country, many of the country’s inhabitants subscribe to Coptic Christianity. In addition to their belief that they possess the Ark of the Covenant, Ethiopia’s Coptic Christian tradition is one of rich and colorful art and elaborately decorated churches.

Some of the most vibrant examples, as well as some of the world’s oldest churches and monasteries, can be found on Lake Tana, just outside the city of Bahir Dar.

Round structures with massive thatch roofs, the monasteries are impressive even from an outside perspective. However, once you remove your shoes and enter the outer ring of the building, you are greeted by a vast array of artwork.

Depicting various scenes from the Bible, the floor-to-ceiling murals are full of life. Characters with huge almond-shaped eyes, elaborate animals, and intricate interpretations of stories, these paintings speak of a culture with religious passion.

Africa’s Camelot

 

Lavish castles are something you would expect to see when touring Europe, but are a bit more out of place in East Africa. Oddly enough, Ethiopia is home to a sprawling complex of castle and palace ruins.

Home to Ethiopia’s emperors and princesses during the 17^th and 18^th centuries, Gondar boasts an impressive array of fortress walls, castles, palaces, and royal baths. Strange though it may seem from a western historical perspective, the first castle was built in 1640.

It is a surreal experience to eat a meal of shiro and injera, have some locally brewed coffee, and then find yourself wandering among the massive walls of former castles. 

Kingdom Come

Aksum was once the seat of the great Aksumite kingdom, which controlled much of the shipping trade between Africa and Asia via the Red Sea. Evidence of a rising civilization dates back as early as 400 BC, and by the first century AD the kingdom was a vital center of commerce, a distinction held for over 1,000 years.

The remnants of the great society are numerous and fairly well-preserved. Underground tombs, towering stellae, and the country’s most important church number among some of Ethiopia’s most historically significant sites. 

Among the more physically impressive, the stellae (or obelisks) deserve a prime spotlight. Carved from solid granite, and showing surprisingly little deterioration, these stone billboards range in size from 1 meter to 33 meters. Among the three tallest, only one remains standing; though, at 24 meters high, remaining upright for hundreds of years is no small feat.

The tallest obelisk successfully erected in Aksum was pilfered by Mussolini in 1937, cut into four pieces and subsequently re built in Rome. It wasn’t returned until 2005, and now lies in neat pieces outside the front gate to the Stellae Field.  

The largest stella (not only in Aksum, but in the world) ranks in at 33 meters tall and 516 tons; however, this massive creation toppled while being erected. In the process it took out supporting walls of underground tombs, and became the last stella of the Aksumite kingdom. 

According to local legend, the transport of stone from the quarry, construction of the stellae, and their subsequent raising was aided, not by angels, but by the power of the Ark of the Covenant, said to be housed in the nearby St. Mary of Zion church. 

Most Ethiopians adamantly believe that the Ark of Covenant is, and has been for centuries, kept safe within their country. All Coptic Christian churches have a replica of the room said to hold the Ark, a Holy of Holies. And, as there is only one person who guards the Ark, it is not something that can be readily confirmed or denied. And, as evidenced in the documentary Indian Jones, the Ark’s face-melting abilities are nothing to scoff at, a definite preventative measure against laymen trying to sneak a peek. 

The history, political and religious, ancient and modern, has ensured that Aksum maintains a place on Ethiopia’s list of important cities, even if it is no longer the center of a booming kingdom.

Lalibela: Carved from Stone

 

Situated high in Ethiopia’s arid mountains, a two-day drive from the city of Addis Ababa, lies the tiny town of Lalibela. Home to Ethiopia’s kings during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, this rural town of winding stone-paved streets holds some of the country’s most awe-inspiring, pilgrimage-worthy churches.

What makes these eleven churches so noteworthy is that they are carved directly into the mountainside. The rock-cut churches of Lalibela represent a variety of architectural styles and proudly display the nation’s deeply engrained religious history.

Arranged in two clusters, the churches are linked by chiseled channels and tunnels, some of which require walking for relatively long distances in pitch dark (especially if you were silly enough to ignore the guidebook’s suggestion to bring a flashlight).

Though the churches are named after King Lalibela based on his claim to have built them all, many scholars believe that the churches, or at least some of them, may have actually been built earlier. Legend says that King Lalibela was exiled to Jerusalem by his brother, after which he vowed to build a new holy city on his return. According to local myth, the construction was done during the day by residents and aided at night by the help of angels.

Regardless of the doubtful holy help, the churches of Lalibela are incredible, a massive testament to dedication and hard work at human hands.

So Long and Thanks for All the Arepas

For our final Colombian destination, we chose Cartagena. After two months of calling Colombia home, a much shorter time than anticipated due to some very unexpected changes in our plans, we were down to our last couple of days.

Cartagena oozes old world colonial charm. Buildings, facades crumbling and faded, repainted in vibrant hues, wind along narrow streets throughout the old quarter of town, a UNESCO World Heritage gem. The walled old city, surrounded by the coralstone protection of once-great fortress walls, maintains an air of Spanish colonialism infused with a taste of the Caribbean.

We roamed the city, took in the sights and the history. We indulged in our final Colombian arepas, corn-flour pancakes essential in the local diet, piled high with cheese and eggs. We sipped on juice made from local fruits. 

Church-studded, flavored with diverse history, Cartagena makes for a beautiful place to laze about, stroll around, and generally take in bit by bit. Scorching heat, high humidity, and a perplexing lack of water (of our three days in Cartagena, we only had water for a day), and heavy afternoon showers drove us into the hostel’s shady patio for much of the time.

Maybe not ideal by most postcard holiday standards (I certainly could have used another shower or two), but Cartagena served as a lovely sendoff in its own right, a beautiful goodbye to Colombia. And it gave us a bit of calm before our Central American whirlwind tour