Lessons from the Children's Museum

For those of you who have not been to the Children's Museum here in town, you simply must go.  Of course, you probably should have a child to accompany you, or you'll be considered a total creeper.  If you don't have a child of your own, find some way to beg, borrow, or steal a child before planning your museum visit.  (Please don't actually steal a child.  That's what real creepers do.  Don't.)  Once you have your child in hand, you may proceed to the museum.

I was fortunate enough to borrow a child of a friend last night (a.k.a. I was babysitting) and we visited the museum.  I must say that I learned some very important lessons.

1. If I had some of these toys at home I would be playing with them ALL THE TIME.  I mean, honestly?  Just think of all the possibilities with this one:

So cool.  Your child will be fine with leaving the toys there.  You will want to take them home.  Resist that urge.  

2. If you are female, you may want to make sure that your shirt has a very high neckline.  Otherwise, when your small child has a handful of flax seed, he may find a happy hole to drop it down...and you will be finding flax seeds on your person for a week.  (Yes, this happened, no not to me.)

3. Puppet shows are fun for all ages!  Especially when the walls and LIGHT SWITCHES are mirrored so you can see yourself perform.

And now I absolutely want a mirrored light switch.  

4. Jenga is much easier when you use pieces of wood that are shorter and broader...and you lay them out 5x5.

And for all that I still lost to a 5-year-old.  Twice.  

So go to the Children's Museum.  Enjoy yourself!  And try not to cry when it's time to go home.  

Always Winter Adventure

This morning, braving the snow and wind and cold, a friend and I headed to a town three hours away to visit a former roommate.  Fortunately, the roads were passable.

But as we drove, the wind buffeted the landscape around  us, obscuring outlines and giving us a glimpse of a magical fairy world.  

Pictures never quite do justice to the scenery here, and snapshots from a moving car achieve even less, but it's better than nothing.

 The snakes of snow sometimes obscured the road as well.

 Nearer the river the trees were covered in frost.

We found our friend - and discovered that we were all wearing close to the same color.

 Many other adventures were had, but I'll close with this: McDonald's, as owned and operated by the White Witch.

Yes.  Yes, those are statues in a snow covered courtyard.  Better get those fries served on time.

Narnian Adventures

Something that I have found to be true in my own life is that just about any adventure you have can be, in some form or another, related to one or more of the Chronicles of Narnia (or to one of C. S. Lewis' other books).  On my lastest adventure I was accompanied by a fellow adventurer who loves Lewis almost as much as I do, and it was not uncommon for references to be made to the books and similarities pointed out.  For your literary enjoyment, I will point out a few of those similarities here.  

     Lucy was, of course, barefoot, having kicked off her shoes while swimming, but that is no hardship if one is going to walk on downy turf.  It was delightful to be ashore again and to smell the earth and grass, even if at first the ground seemed to be pitching up and down like a ship, as it usually does for a while if one has been at sea.  It was much warmer here than it had been on board and Lucy found the sand pleasant to her feet as they crossed it.  There was a lark singing.

    They struck inland and up a fairly steep, though low, hill.  At the top, of course, they looked back, and there was the Dawn Treader shining like a great bright insect and crawling slowly northwestward with her oars.  Then they went over the ridge and could see her no longer.

    Doorn now lay before them, divided from Felimath by a channel about a mile wide; behind it and to the left lay Arva.  The little white town of Narrowhaven on Doorn was easily seen.

~The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Chapter 3

When one spends time on a sailboat, one cannot help but draw comparisons to the Dawn Treader.  We felt, as Lucy, the delight of being on shore again after a few days on the boat - though the solid ground did feel funny.  I even like to imagine that Lewis modeled some of his islands after the Greek Islands: grassy hills, more goats than people (on some), white towns, and from the tops of those hills, a view of our boat, shining in the harbor.  We failed to meet pirates, sea-serpents, or dragons, but we did experience stormy weather, a damaged boat, and limited water rations.

     I had been wandering for hours in similar mean streets, always in the rain and always in evening twilight.  Time seemed to have paused on that dismal moment when only a few shops have lit up and it is not yet dark enough for their windows to look cheering.  And just as the evening never advanced to night, so my walking had never brought me to the better parts of the town.  However far I went I found only dingy lodging houses, small tabacconists, hoardings from which posters hung in rags, windowless warehouses, goods stations without trains, and bookshops of the sort that sell The Works of Aristotle.  I never met anyone. 

~The Great Divorce,  Chapter 1

"How did you like Athens?" has been a common question over the past month or so since I left Athens.  The best answer I've found is a comparison I made while there: it reminds me of the grey town in The Great Divorce.  The historical sites are great, but the modern town itself...  It's kind of dirty, covered with graffiti, the streets go on an on, each with a few of the same little dingy shops open (but more places closed than open), and as far as you walk, nothing changes, and you never get to a better part of town.  It's not eternally raining and not eternally twilight, but apart from that, the description fits pretty well.

     At first Shasta could see nothing in the valley below him but a sea of mist with a few domes and pinnacles rising from it; but as the light increased and the mist cleared away, he saw more and more.  A broad river divided itself into two streams and on the island between them stood the city of Tashbaan, one of the wonders of the world.  Round the very edge of the island, so that the water lapped against the stone, ran high walls strengthened with so many towers that he soon gave up trying to count them.  Inside the walls the island rose in a hill, and every bit of that hill, up to the Tisroc's palace and the great temple of Tash at the top, was completely covered in buildings: terrace above terrace, street above street, zigzag roads or huge flights of steps bordered with orange trees and lemon trees, roof gardens, balconies, deep archways, pillared colonnades, spires, battlements, minarets, pinnacles.  And when at last the sun rose out of the sea and the great silver-plated dome of the temple flashed back its light, he was almost dazzled.  

~The Horse and His Boy, Chapter 4

Apparently Lewis modeled Calormen after Turkey.  I have to say that I liked Turkey quite a lot, while no one, probably not even Calormens, like Calormen.  That aside, similarities can still be seen, and this discription of Tashbaan sounds a lot like what I imagine the Golden Horn of Istanbul was like during the time of the Ottomans.  A walled hill, surrounded by water (not quite an island), topped by Topkapi palace and mosques instead of the temple.

It is also worth noting that "aslan" is the Turkish word for "lion" and thus it was not uncommon to come across places like "Aslan Tourism" or "Aslan Cafe."

     But it was a queer city.  The lights were so few and far apart that they would hardly have done for scattered cottages in our world.  But the little bits of the place which you could see by the lights were like glimpses of a great seaport.  You could make out in one place a whole crowd of ships loading or unloading; in another, bales of stuff and warehouses; in a third, walls and pillars that suggested great palaces or temples; and always, wherever the light fell, endless crowds: hundreds of Earthmen....The City was as quiet, and nearly as dark, as the inside of an anthill.  

~The Silver Chair,  Chapter 10

The underground city we visited in Cappadocia was nothing like the one described here, being merely a series of tunnels, rooms, and passage ways - nothing like a cave large enough to contain a whole city.  Still, one could get a sense of what a relief it must have been for Jill, Eustace, Puddleglum, and Rilian to find themselves above ground, free to move and breath, rejoicing in the light of the sun and moon.  Apparently there are around 100 such underground cities all around that region of Turkey.  It's hard to imagine that many people living that deep underground, buried alive with all their animals, self-sufficient in their caves for long enough to avoid whatever enemies troubled them.  

     Pressing their way between the laden branches they reached the wall.  It was very old, and broken down in places, with moss and wallflowers growing on it, but it was higher than all but the tallest trees.  And when they came quite close to it they found a great arch which must once have had a gate in it but was not almost filled up with the largest of all the apple trees.  They had to break some of the branches to get past, and when they had done so they all blinked because the daylight became suddenly much brighter.  They found themselves in a wide open place with walls all around it.  In here there were no trees, only level grass and daisies, and ivy, and gray walls.  It was a bright, secret, quiet place, and rather sad; and all four stepped out into the middle of it, glad to be able to straighten their backs and move their limbs freely.

~Prince Caspian, Chapter 1

Visiting the ruins at Olympos felt almost as if we'd stumbled upon the ruins of Cair Paravel.  The sun soaked stones, overgrown with trees and vines, stood near the sea, abandoned and unused for centuries.   We kept expecting to find a treasure room and have to rescue a dwarf from some hostile Telmarines.  Instead, the most threatening creature we came across was a large toad.  

     Tirian looked and saw the queerest and most ridiculous thing you can imagine.  Only a few yards away, clear to be seen in the sunlight, there stood up a rough wooden door, and round it, the framework of the doorway: nothing else, no walls, no roof.  He waled toward it, bewildered, and the others followed, watching to see what he would do.  He walked round to the other side of the door.  But it looked just the same from the other side: he was still in the open air, on a summer morning.  The  door was simply standing up by itself as if it had grown there like a tree.  

~The Last Battle, Chapter 13

Here and there, wandering around ancient ruins, one will happen across something like this: the walls and ceiling crumbled away years ago, but the doorway is still standing (though usually not with a door still hung in it).  Though you know it doesn't go anywhere, it's hard not to imagine that it might be a door to other worlds - maybe even to Aslan's country!

Wandering Turkey

I've been physically home in Montana for nearly a week now, but a part of my mind seems to still be wandering around Turkey, because every morning when I wake up, I realize that's where my dreams have taken me: wandering Turkey, in search of...something.  Sometimes food, sometimes confused dream searches, but always wandering Turkey.

It really isn't that surprising when you consider that the last 22 days  (or so) of my life previous to arriving home were spent doing just that: wandering around Turkey in search of...something.  (And an additional week was spent wandering Greece in search of similar things).  

More often than not we were in search of food.  Cheap food.  Sometimes we would wander for hours, up one street and down the next, pausing occasionally to check prices on a menu.

"Not bad,"  one might say.  "Wanna stop here?"

"Mmm, whatever," the other might reply.  "I'm not starving yet.  Why don't we walk down this street a little further and if we don't find something better we can come back."

"Okay."

Eventually we would get so hungry we would have to pick a place. 

Sometimes we would wander in search of a specific type of food.  One time we wandered down toward the Galata Bridge area, in search of fish sandwiches (balik ekmek).  We must have walked past every booth that sold those sandwiches before we finally went back and got one at one of the first places we passed.

Other times we would search for a specific grocery store or restaurant.  Our first day in Istanbul, wandering mostly aimlessly, we happened upon a grocery store which had peanut butter, a substance which apparently doesn't exist in Greece and barely exists in Turkey.  Our rejoicing was great.  However, it took us several tries and more than one hour of wandering to find that market again on a different day.

When I finally found it again, I took pictures to make sure I would recognize it.

It was not uncommon for us to go in search of a specific place: a bus station, a hostel, or a museum or other tourist site.  Many of these places were actually labeled on maps, which didn't always decrease our wandering time.  I was usually the navigator on these expeditions (by virtue of being the only one who paid attention to where we were going) and using a combination of maps and GPS, I usually managed to make our wandering last at least an hour longer than necessary.  Not that it was entirely my fault.  Some places were mislabeled on the maps and other places had enough windy streets that you could be close to your destination and totally miss it as your little street wound in the opposite direction.  Eventually, though, we always managed to get to the right place.  

We passed some interesting areas as we wandered in search of the Spice Market (having missed the right street),

but eventually we found it:

Sometimes we wandered just for fun, seeing what there was to see,

in the city, 

A house in Istanbul - with the laundry out to dry

in the country, 

A more rural place in Cappadocia

and even in historical cities.  

Ruins in Hieropolis

Other ruins in Olympos

Sometimes we would pause to watch the sunsets,

In Istanbul

and Goreme

or the bird circling the mosque after dark,

Sometime we'd stop to laugh about the things we found, like the "Underpants Street of Istanbul,"

or a water park with two small slides and a hose,

We'd often pause to admire the view

...or to admire the view while trying to find the trail we were looking for,

or to eat ice cream

or watch the moon rise.

In Antalya

and in Olympos

Sometimes we would wander around in the wilderness, hiking, exploring,

Pigeon Valley near Goreme

Part of the Lycian Way near Olympos

even stopping to play with the occasional tortoise.  

Sometimes we even wandered around shopping areas (though we did very little actual purchasing), always searching for a slightly better deal on the few items we wanted.

All in all, I guess it's a good thing I like wandering.  

To the home of the gods

Have you ever traveled by bus in Greece?  Yeah, neither had I.  Now, having experience it, I can say that it is the only way to experience Greece in all its glory.  And by glory, well, I mean more discomfort and inefficiency and, yeah, that sort of thing.  I don't mean to complain, but I don't think I've ever had to pay more for a less enjoyable experience in my life.  Well, drilling cavities might compete.  I suppose it could have been worse, but...the day went something like this:

It seemed like a reasonable proposal: head to Thessaloniki by way of Mount Olympus/Litohoro.  In hind sight...

The bus was late.  Maybe that should have warned us.  (That and the outrageous ticket prices.)  But it was only 15 minutes late, and it is Greece, after all.   At least this time we didn't have to wander the streets of Athens searching for the bus station. 

Still, the bus came and we dutifully piled onto it and began our decent down the mountain.  We paused various places, picking up and dropping off passengers as we went.  

We stopped in Amfissa, where, we eventually found out, we were supposed to change buses.  Nice of them to mention it.  

On the next bus we headed out again, still hopeful that we would make it to Litohoro before nightfall, but a little uncertain as to how many more unexpected bus changes we might have to make.  

At least the scenery was beautiful.  

Another stop...in Lamia...but eventually we figured out we were to stay on the same bus.  A little disappointing, considering how unhelpful the driver was...and how little he liked to use the fan or AC.  (So hot!)

We stopped again near Larisa and finally had a bathroom break.  

Now, at this point, I should explain something.  I've never been in Greece before.  Thus, I've never been to Litohoro (our ticket destination) before.  It may be surprising, in light of this, that I had no idea what to expect.  I barely knew where Litochoro was on the map, and I had a vague understanding that the hostel we booked was near it.  In retrospect, I should have studied several maps of everything before embarking.  I also should have modified my expectations of the bus to actually take us there.  

It went something like this.  We were on a highway, about an hour after passing Larissa, when the bus driver actually made an announcement: "Litohoro!"  We started gathering our things.  The bus slowed to a stop...near an exit...on a two lane highway...with no town apparently anywhere near.  They let us off and gave us our bags and drove away.  

....Uh...thanks?  But where's the town?  Where are we?  Where do we go from here?  We figured walking up the exit would at least take us in the right direction...

"Litohoro, 5km" the first sign stated.  A 5km hike uphill with a 30lb pack on a warm day was a daunting prospect, to say the least.  We trudged to a nearby gas station hoping to ask directions, when suddenly a man pulled over and offered us a ride.  Gratefully, we accepted and he dropped us off a few minutes later in Litohoro.  A quick lunch of gyros helped further boost our lowered morale.  

It was about then that we found out that our hostel was by the sea - back in the direction we came from.  *sigh*  There was nothing to do but laugh, thank God for kind people, and regroup.  We debating waiting for a bus or walking.  Taxis were out of the price range.  In the end, we walked: 7.67 kilometers we walked, until we finally found our hostel.  (That plus the walking we'd already done puts us over 5 miles.) 

At least there's a good view of the Mediterranean and Mount Olympus.  And good food and hot showers.  

Yeah, it was quite a day.  But reflecting on it (after the class I just took) makes me think of the Apostle Paul.  He had to walk everywhere (unless he was sailing).  And he probably had his fair share of unhelpful people (like the bus driver) and helpful people (like the man in the car and the girl at the hostel).  He probably had good days of relatively easy travel, and bad days when nothing seemed to go right.  And yet, somehow, he learned to be content in every circumstance.  Lord teach us that contentment!

Just for fun, this is approximately our route from bus station to hostel (7.67km).

Transitioning

Yesterday was a long, exciting, slightly stressful day of transitions.

The class "Christian Movement in the Mediterranean" had been successfully concluded with a final and a feast the night before, and most people took off to the airport or other destinations in the morning.  It was sad to say good-bye to some people who had become good friends in such a short time, but hopefully we will meet again - maybe some of them in Turkey.

As a last 'hurrah' some of us visited the Acropolis on our last night.  

Then came the adventure of trying to find the bus station. No one in Athens or online seems to know exactly where the bus station is (like a street address or some such thing), and everyone who has a vague idea of where it is gives very different directions on how to find it.  Maybe I should write my own guide book, now that it has been found. :)

The bus ride to Delphi, once out of Athens, was quite beautiful.  We passed through cloudy, mountainous areas, and finally arrived at Delphi, a picturesque little town perched on the sides of one of those mountains, overlooking a bay of the sea.

I haven't yet had a chance to explore much of the ruins (everything closes at 3...), but it is a beautiful area.  I wouldn't mind spending a few days here, just hiking and exploring.

Alas, I don't have that much time. So today I'll explore the ruins, and tomorrow...????  Well, plans are still in the works. :)