Nearby Neighbor

Traveling from Thailand to Indonesia is a bit like visiting a friend whose house has the same floor plan as your own; everything is familiar, but the furniture is bizarrely different. The Elaborate Buddhist temples have been replaced by equally elaborate mosques, the tuk-tuks replaced with sidecar-wielding becaks.

Call to prayer, haunting and melodic, pours over the buildings, snaking in through windows and doors. It wakes you in the morning, and bids you farewell at night. Hijabs of every hue cover the heads of devout women, equally a proclamation of faith and a fashion accessory. Cats lounge and prowl in broad daylight, flaunting their power in the absence of canine competitors. The fried rice has a bit of a kick, the variety of local curries an even bigger one. 

The landscape and weather are both similar in temperament to what we live with in Thailand. Tropical flowers, palm trees, and banana leaves abound; fried rice and noodles rule the kitchen; smiles are offered openly and easily. Yet, touching down in Indonesia’s northern island of Sumatra, we are greeted by a land that is still incredibly travel-worthy, with a diverse culture, rare plant and animal life, and a lush array of landscapes. 

Despite being so close to Thailand, both in kilometers and in attitude, and despite having been to Java and Bali in the past, Sumatra offered us a whole new world to explore.

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.

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.

And Now for Something Completely Different

Among East African countries, Ethiopia is incredibly unique. The culture, the landscape, the clothing, the food, it all stands tribute to a country that isn’t quite like any other. An interesting combination of Middle Eastern and African influences, visible in the facial features, hair texture, and style of dress, stepping off the plane in Ethiopia was the beginning of an experience like no other.

With landscape remarkably similar to the American Southwest, only with a slight, almost imperceptible, color change, Ethiopia is dry, arid, and sparsely populated outside of the capital city of Addis Ababa. And outside of this bustling city, you find a country that relies on agriculture, where farm animals clatter down cobblestone streets or sleep in the shade of gas pumps; where donkeys and camels laden with crops, water, or cargo often outnumber motor vehicles.

The food itself speaks of strong tradition. The brewing of coffee is ritualized, complete with a ceremony. The staple bread, a pancake called injera, is made from a grain only available in Ethiopia (which, lucky for me, happens to be gluten free). Topped with any variety of sauces or stews (currently without meat, as we are here during their Lenten fasting period), injera is eaten using only the right hand.

Even time works a bit differently here. Okay, more than a bit. Following the Ethiopian (Coptic Christian) calendar, it is currently August of 2005. And when it comes to telling time of day, a bit of clarification is necessary. Our midnight and noon (12 a.m. and 12 p.m.), are instead placed at sunrise and sunset. So, for the Ethiopians, what we consider 7 a.m. is 1 a.m., as you have had one hour of daylight. It can all get a bit confusing.

Men and women walk cloaked in long pieces of white fabric, many women keeping their heads covered; though this seems more about keeping the strong sun at bay than about strict modesty. Religious tattoos can be seen on hands and forearms, necks and jaw lines, cheeks and foreheads.

And, though it is such a unique and different culture, we have (for the most part) been welcomed with smiles and warm greetings. 

Old World Ways

Despite years of Spanish influence followed by the rapid changes of modernization, Guatemala’s indigenous population has maintained a strong grip on their traditions. Ever-present in their vibrant choice of clothes, their food, medicine, and religious practices are no less strong. However, when it comes to religion, there is a definite blending of two strong cultures: Catholic and Mayan.

During our stay in the Highland town of Quetzaltenango (commonly known by its Mayan tag, Xela), we were lucky enough to make a day trip to the tiny hillside town of San Andrés Xecul. More fortunate still, we happened to arrive on the day of the town festival, where a marketplace, a fair, and a massive religious buffet swirled together riotously.

It is common in Latin American countries for each city, no matter how small, to have an annual festival, typically lasting a day or two and celebrating the city’s patron saint. San Andrés Xecul is no different on these counts, its patron saint being Saint Andrew the Apostle, whose feast day is November 30^th.

San Andrés Xecul is known primarily for its church, a multicolored Mayan-Catholic-Christian affair, covered in vivid depictions of saints, animals, and agricultural motifs on a bright yellow façade. Inside, neon lights and painted Jesus statues abound. In a country (and faith) of silent, stony cathedral faces with their solemn images, this church is as loud and flashy as they come.

Multihued flags waved over the square in front of their yellow church, a crowd gathered to watch traditional masked dancers. Assorted animals mingled with what we can only assume are conquistadors as they prance about to the music pouring over the audience. Without knowing the meaning of the dance, or possessing adequate Spanish skills to ask, the display was perplexing and delightful.

Corn basked in rooftop sun. Thread of red and blue, green and black, swayed in the breeze, drying, waiting to be crafted into blankets and cloth. Meats and baked goods tempted passersby, rich and sweet. Trinkets and toys waited to be won at carnival games. Old women, skin wrinkled from years of sun, displayed big gummy grins full of gaps. Babies, strapped to the backs of their mothers, napped in the midday heat, happy in their personal hammocks.

And we, as lone tourists, tried to take it all in – the colors, the cacophony, the barrage of scents and sights – all the wonders of Mayan culture colliding with the modern and holding its ground, sharing the limelight.

Holy Salt

Spending multiple days in Bogotá, a large, cold, sprawling city, warranted a bit of peripheral exploration. Enter: nearby Zipaquirá, home of Colombia’s Salt Cathedral. Originally merely a salt mine, the Catedral de Sal has gone through several incarnations before reaching the status of pilgrimage destination, holy sanctuary, and tourist attraction it possesses today.

Throughout history, up until man developed refrigeration techniques, salt was incredibly valuable. Understandable, as people tend to be neither physically tolerant nor especially keen of rotten meat. In fact, our English-speaking guide informed us, the word ‘salary’ has its roots in the word ‘salt’ (imagine my surprise when a google search confirmed the etymologic origin). Since the massive salt deposits were discovered several hundred years ago, Zipaquirá’s salt mine has been active, though it is less prosperous in the modern age of home appliances.

In the early 1930s, a sanctuary was carved into the mine for the sake of those who wanted to pray for protection before beginning their day’s work. In the 1950s, the sanctuary was expanded and dedicated to the patron saint of miners (because if there’s one thing Catholic countries have no shortage of, it’s patron saints). However, after 40 years of mining and praying in the same place, the mine was shut down for structural issues; the problem with building a cathedral inside a mine is that now your cathedral is in a damn mine.

After a major facelift, including structural additions and building only in the inactive areas of the mine, the modern incarnation of the Catedral de Sal was constructed. It wasn’t cheap or easy, but it is thoroughly impressive.

The downhill stroll begins with the Stations of the Cross. Though the rock in the mine is too hard for any detailed carving, each station features a large stone cross in various symbolic depictions, places to kneel for those who wish to stop and pray, as well as LED lighting.

A beautiful circular room, complete with an overhead dome, painstakingly hand-chiseled, represents the division between heaven and earth. Marble angels, designed by an Italian artist, perch throughout this massive complex. And, multiple staircases offer sinners the chance to repent before entering the main cavernous cathedral.

As you reach the farthest point underground (or farthest reached without donning a hardhat), you enter the main sanctuary. The primary cathedral is separated into three sections, partially due to structural limitation, representing the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. It is enormous. All told, the Salt Cathedral can (and each Easter Sunday does) hold up to 8,000 people.

Truly a magnificent feat of engineering and the human proclivity toward repurposing and interior decorating in places that are otherwise drab.

Seoul Searching

Having spent a year and a half in Southeast Asian countries, a week in Seoul was something of a shock to the senses. Accustomed to hot, humid weather, a laidback pace of life, and dirt-cheap everything, we suddenly found ourselves thrust into the middle of a surprisingly Western city, complete with winter temperatures, urban sprawl, and smog. Luckily, we were visiting my college roommate, Mr. Peter West, so we had our own built in tour guide, making it much easier to adjust to such Western living (and someone with female friends who could loan me warm clothes and shoes, without which I may have frozen to death).

While tagging along with Peter, I learned a handful of interesting things about South Korean food, culture and lifestyle. 

In a world without scooters, tuk-tuks, or motorbike taxis, having an efficient transportation system is invaluable. Getting all around Seoul, and to the surrounding cities, was incredibly simple given a massive web of subway lines and bus routes. Thanks to easy transport, we were able to spend time roaming through palaces, perusing modern malls, walking Korean street markets, meandering streets lined with tea shops and traditional houses, and sampling Korean and Western foods. 

Scissors are vastly underrated in the West. In Korean restaurants, scissors are a widely used utensil. Used to snip off noodles served from a common dish, scissors prevent that sloppy snap that flings sauce everywhere. At Korean BBQ (or "Meat Restaurants" as they are locally known), scissors are also used instead of a fork and steak knife. Both solutions are so simple, but I wouldn't have thought of them on my own. 

Soju is the devil. Alcohol made from sweet potatoes, plus a dash of evil, soju is a dangerous drink. It might not taste very strong, but when ingested soju can cause incredible intoxication, as well as spontaneous attacks of boisterous laughter and random fits of karaoke. It is also known to cause the worst hangover ever. 

Southeast Asia might be less "developed" than South Korea, but I vastly prefer their ideas on what constitutes an appropriate workload. The Koreans spend the majority of their time working or studying, sometimes into the wee hours of the night. There's something much nicer about living in a culture that values free time, a lack of stress, and an afternoon nap. 

Traditional architecture interwoven among highrise apartment buildings, Seoul is the combination of ancient Asian culture and modern Western influence, with a dash of poorly structured English and brightly colored cartoon characters. Seoul was the perfect layover between Southeast Asia and America.