UNESCO World Heritage Sites

Siem Reap

Posted on by Laughingnomad

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My original plan was to take a boat up the Mekong River in Cambodia to the Lao border and then on up through Laos but I kept hearing reports about the opening and closing of the border and you have to pay off the guards to let you through and someone reported they had to pay $200 and if they don’t let you through for some reason that day and then you are faced with coming all the way down the Mekong back to Phnom Penh and starting over in another direction so I said the heck with it and decided to do the “tourist route” to Siem Reap instead.

Siem Reap
While Bob took a bus to the Thai border and then on to Bangkok, I took a fast boat down the Tonle Sap (Great Lake) to Siem Reap, a sleepy village famous for it’s many wats (temples and monasteries) especially the biggest-Angkor Wat-but fast becoming a major tourist destination. Most of the people sat on the roof of the boat for the four hour trip through marshes and past entire villages on stilts.

I spent an entire day on a motorcycle taxi going from one temple to another that was built between the 9th and 14th centures in the middle of the jungle when the Khmer civilisation was at the height of its creativity.

Angkor is one of the most important archaeological sites in South-East Asia. Stretching over some 400 sq. km, including forested area, Angkor Archaeological Park contains the magnificent remains of the different capitals of the Khmer Empire, from the 9th to the 15th century. These include the famous Temple of Angkor Wat and, at Angkor Thom, the Bayon Temple with its countless sculptural decorations. UNESCO has set up a wide-ranging programme to safeguard this symbolic site and its surroundings.

You could easily spend a week or more here seeing all the monuments. Most temples are actually little more than ruins…blocks of carved volcanic and sandstone rock lying in piles at the foot of the remaining structures. Much of Angkor’s finest statuary is stored inside conservation warehouses because of the danger of theft. In some monuments such as Ta Prohm, where a French movie company was filming the few days I was there, the jungle has stealthily waged an all-out invasion with bare tree roots spilling out and over the walls.

I had a Cambodian roast chicken and vermicelli salad late lunch at Les Artisans D’Angkor, a small artisan shop and cafe amazingly situated directly opposite Angkor. I thought of my friend Jana who visited here in the 60’s and wondered how the town had changed since then. My day ended taking pictures of the sun setting pink on the face of the dark stone of Angkor Wat.

I had had my fill of war museums in Vietnam and Phnom Penh so I avoided the War Museum in Siem Reap with an exhibition of Soviet and Chinese Mi-8 helicoptors, Mig 19 destroyers, T 54 Tanks and US 105mm artillery. You could also see an artificial minefield here, the brochure says. My motorcyle driver did pull onto the grounds of a Buddhist temple on the way back from Angkor that displayed a glassed-in pagoda filled with bones and skulls that could be viewed from all four sides.

Back in my hotel I spent some time organizing photos on my computer…we have some really wonderful ones of people…especially women and children. I gave a two hour English lesson to one of the Khmer girls that worked in the kitchen of the guesthouse where I was staying.

Finally, after five days, it came time to leave Siem Reap so I regretfully said goodbye to Arnfinn and his Khmer staff and left the simple and elegant Earthwalker Guesthouse that was built and managed by a young Norwegian cooperative and made my way down a dirt road out to the highway with my pack on my back to flag down a motorcycle taxi for the 10 minute ride to the airport. The young guys working in the airport laughed at my hair when I walked in. “Motorcycle Hair” I said laughing! The $100 Lao Aviation flight that took me to Vientiane Laos had no safety card, no airline magazine, no safety demonstration by the hostess and no floatation device under the seat…and I doubt if there were oxygen masks…but we did get a sad little hamburger patty and bun with a packet of catsup.

Ayutthaya

Posted on by Laughingnomad

Our friend Jiraporn let us gas up her car for a trip to Ayutthaya, ancient capital of Thailand about 60 miles north of Bangkok.
Founded c. 1350, Ayutthaya became the second Siamese capital after Sukhothai. It was destroyed by the Burmese in the 18th century. Its remains, characterized by the prang (reliquary towers) and gigantic monasteries, give an idea of its past splendour. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Robben Island

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June 16 to July 13, 2002
Standing bunched shoulder-to-shoulder in the small anteroom of the prison on Robben Island where Mandela and others were political prisoners, our half of the ferry load of visitors impatiently waited. Well, for Pete’s sake, I thought to myself…what a disorganized outfit…should have had someone to meet us here by now…and then finally….a tall large-bellied black African burst into the room from a side entrance, squeezed his way to the front of the group and quickly apologized for keeping us waiting. Come, he said, lets go see the prison rooms now.

On our way out to the exercise yard our guide stopped at the foot of a staircase. “I was imprisoned here for 9 years for the trumped up charge of sabotage, he said, and this is where all the orders came from,” he said as he looked to the top of the stairs at the door behind which pain and torture, psychological and physical, were incarnated. “All letters in and out of the prison were intercepted here…my father never received my letters…they led him to believe that I was dead…he only found out I was alive the day I arrived home from the prison all these years later,” he said. Here the decision was made to separate the political prisoners from the general population. The most feared political activists and the most watched, like Nelson Mandela, were kept in “B” section. The rest were put in other sections…

Out in the yard our ex-prisoner guide talked about the lack of medical care. “The doctor would put his stethoscope to my heart and all the time his ear pieces would still be hanging around his neck. Later, when I became very sick I was finally diagnosed with severe diabetes. I was assigned to work in the kitchen. That was how we communicated with Mandela and the others…messages were passed on with the food.” He showed us the spot where Mandela buried the original of his memoirs after they had been transcribed on tiny pieces of paper and smuggled out of the prison. Then we entered a door off the exercise yard, walked down a narrow hall and took turns looking in through an iron bar window into Mandela’s cell that was only a space of about 8 feet by 8 feet.

When it was discovered that he had been collaborating with the other prisoners, Mandela was moved to another prison in Cape Town and kept in isolation. It was from there that, as the recognized head of the African National Congress (ANC), he was able to get messages out asking for negotiations between the ANC and the South African government to end apartheid. When international pressure mounted and the internal violence continued, and it became apparent that apartheid was on it’s way out, Mandela was finally released in 1993-27 long years after his incarceration. Within a year he was elected President of South Africa.

Many of the former guards are still working on the island that has now become a national museum and there are about 15 former political prisoners who are volunteering daily to lead public tours. When someone asked how it felt to be around his former captors, our guide told us about his reconciliation with one of the most cruel guards who came to him and asked for forgiveness.  “It is very very difficult for all of us…all these many years later we are told that it is good to come here and confront the truth of what happened to us.” he told us that the reason he was late meeting the tour group was because another former guard and his wife were in the group just prior to ours. “When they departed, he said, I couldn’t stop myself from breaking down and crying…and as it all came back to me I just couldn’t stop for awhile…”

Robben Island was used at various times between the 17th and 20th centuries as a prison, a hospital for socially unacceptable groups and a military base. Its buildings, particularly those of the late 20th century such as the maximum security prison for political prisoners, witness the triumph of democracy and freedom over oppression and racism. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The Dunes & Sarus Guest Farm

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June 10, 2002
After a night camping near Sesriam, everyone else is up at 5:00 to go hiking in the Dunes. No coffee and no “breaky” (breakfast). These are the largest Dunes in the world Rod says. I stay in camp by myself and the silence is heaven! The truck returns at noon and we are out of there.

The garbage collectors come around while I sit on a park bench trying to catch up on my journal with my computer. One fellow comes over to look at the computer screen and asks what I am doing. I tell him I am telling my friends back home about Africa. He suddenly leans down closer and looks intently at my screen. Then he wants to know how much the computer cost. He just shook his head and said “very expensive, very expensive” as he walked away leaving me to feel the incredibly deep gulf that was just created between us.

In Swakopmund Rod bought a dark brown sheepskin at a game skin shop which he is wearing around his shoulders. I tell this large man he looks especially intriguing with his stocking cap, dark glasses and bare feet!

The Sarus camp site has a little communal building with kitchen sink and wood stove. Expecting a cold night most of the campers sleep on the floor in the building. Bob and I run Rod out of the “caravan” (little trailer). I note that we call “caravans” trailers and Rod notes that we have gone from “Truck Trash” to “Trailer Trash!” That’s about it, I laughed!

In the evening after dinner Fi and Sarah read my Malawi story on the computer and, laughing, we remember some of the funnier moments of the trip.

Ngorongora Crater

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The Ngorongora Crater is a conservation area and National Heritage Site. After breaking camp in the Sarangeti, we drive another two hours up to the Crater rim where we set up camp so we can be ready for the drive down into the Crater the next morning. The crater is 16-17 km across; the difference between a park and a conservation area is that people can live in a park; so many Maasai life in the Sarangeti but none in the crater. The crater sides are covered in a dense rain forest; Black Rhino only here; no giraffes here because it is too steep for them to walk down; no Topi or Impala here; the alkalai lake is filled with pink Flamingos; Corey Bastards are mating; hyenas with their lowered backsides slither along…

The Land Rover dodges huge elephant poop on the roads meandering along the crater bed.

Maasai and Samali Ostriches: incubation 48 days; female watches the eggs during the day and the male at night. Biggest enemies are man and lions; Red Billed Duck; Black Winged Stilt; Black Headed Heron; White Heron; Sacred Ibis; Crowned Crane; Wida Bird; European Stock: coming from Europe with no passport and flies back in December-he is not ours, Francis says.

Common and Golden Jackal; Flamingos by the million who eat algae and salt that makes them pink; Spotted Hyenalives 35 years; noctural;4- 5 months gestation; he was walking the whole night that is why he is sleeping. No one else eats the Hyena except other Hyenas when they die. Lions may kill them but they don’t eat them. Male Lion eats first-big boss-then the mother and the cubs; 40 lions in the crater; sometimes you see no lion because they don’t know you are coming to see them and they just lie anywhere in the tall grass where you can’t see them, Francis says.

Wart Hog; monkey sitting on top of an Acacia Tree-the king of the world. A mini bus drives up. Ladies in nice clean white blouses sit in the back with their suitcases with wheels on them; probably staying at the expnsive Ngorongoro wildlife Lodge on the rim. “My god they are not even camping; not getting the full-on experience!” the kids yell out to each other laughing hysterically. By the way, at a potty stop, one of the kids spotted a tourist all dressed up like Safari Guy just stepping out of Magellan Catalogue. All the crew and kids laughed themselves silly.

Francis says that the animals in the crater are very polite because they haven’t been in the hunting block outside the crater where they learn to be scared of the human.

Black Headed Heron eating baby Black Mama snake; male elephant with biggest penus ever…swinging between his legs as he walks. Weighs 3 kg, Francis says. How does he know, Bob retorts.

We stop at Tak Tak spring for a rest and watch a school of Hippos.

When the zebras walk or run away from the car, their heads bob up and down telling the lions “I have seen you, I have seen you, I have seen you,” Francis says.

We drive around a bend to find five Forest Elephants all in a row. They are waiting for pictures, Francis says smiling. Then we drive up and out of the crater and head back to camp.

Driving & Cueing in Egypt

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Drivers have immense patience with each other-each car gives way to the others like a million fish in a school swimming this way and that…narrowly missing one another but gracefully swerving away in time…implicit cooperation you would never see in the States.

No one would steal anything from you, the tour operator says, except for the occasional pickpocket. I suspect he is right-we never worried a bit about our things.

Told a tout, when he asked why we went to Islamic Quarter instead of Cairo Museum, that we wanted to experience live people-not dead ones…way of saying we wanted to get a feel for contemporary Egypt. We sorta did…

Tucked away amid the modern urban area of Cairo lies one of the world’s oldest Islamic cities, with its famous mosques, madrasas, hammams and fountains. Founded in the 10th century, it became the new centre of the Islamic world, reaching its golden age in the 14th century. It is an UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The style of cueing in line is very different than in the US where we frown on people crowding in or even acting like they want to be first in line as being a very selfish thing. The jostling is incredible so we just usually sit and wait until everyone gets off the plane or bus or train and then we get up and go.

Cairo Egypt

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On April 21, 2002 while waiting for our flight from Athens to Cairo, we visited briefly with a gentleman sitting next to us who was on his way to Alexandria for what we thought was the dedication of the new Biblioteca Alexandrina (Alexandria Library). He was on the Board of Trustees I heard him tell an associate. When we boarded the plane a picture of the spectacular new library was on the cover of Horus, the Egypt Air magazine. The original library built by the Greeks in the fourth Century burned down in a fire so now President Mubarak and UNESCO has rebuilt the library. The design is a simple disc inclined toward the sea, partly submerged in a pool of water and is covered with Aswan granite engraved with calligraphic letters and representative inscriptions from the world civilizations. Really felt I’d missed something by not seeing it.

What we didn’t know at the time, however, was that there had been a huge student demonstration against Israel a few days before and a student had been killed by armed police whereupon Egypt cancelled indefinitely the dedication ceremonies in deference to the Palestinians.

Off the plane, a young Brit who had been in the country about 7 months as a volunteer teacher with the British version of our Peace Corps, jumped into the taxi with us for the ride into Cairo. He spent some time negotiating the fare with the driver. “20 pounds…you said!!” We found out later that they often tell you one price and then when it comes time to pay they up the price-or they will tell you one pound and then when you pull out the money they say “no, no English pounds!” So our taxi driver is getting double fare? “Yes,” he said, “that seems to often be the case here.”

We stayed on the island of Gezira in the middle of the Nile in Cairo. We stayed at the Mayfair Hotel in Zamelak, an area on the north end of the island where there are many embassies. The main street is named Sharia 26 of July to commemorate the fiery coup in 1952 that destroyed all the landmarks of 70 years of British rule.

There are several bridges that cross the Nile to Gezira, the one nearest us being the October 6 bridge, commemorating the Jewish holiday of Yom Kippur when Egypt launched a surprise attack across the Suez Canal and restored Egypt’s national pride after the Israeli defeat of the Egyptian forces during the six day war in 1967 when Israel took control of the Sinai peninsula.

The capital of the Old Kingdom of Egypt has some extraordinary funerary monuments, including rock tombs, ornate mastabas, temples and pyramids. In ancient times, the site was considered one of the Seven Wonders of the World. It is now an UNESCO World Heritage Site

Athens Greece

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Landed in Eletherios Venizelo airport and everyone clapped as is often the custom around much of the world.

Took a one hour bus ride from the airport to Monastiraki Square Station at Syntagma Square in Athens. Walked down Ermou St. to Hotel Pella at the edge of the Plaka (old town). On our fourth floor balcony we had a direct view of the Acropolis that is beautifully lit at night. But in spite of the hardest beds of any in Europe and the street noise outside making it impossible to sleep without ear plugs. Nellie, the hotel manager from Bulgaria made our stay there a very pleasant one.

For dinner we gorged in the Plaka at the Egnokapta Restaurant. We had an eggplant casserole, spanokapita, val and onions, beet greens, peppers, yogurt and cucumbers, wine and afterward Greek coffee (that tastes like coffee grounds). Our watier-an older gentleman who assumed the authority of one who might own the the art of table- waiting made our meal even more pleasurable. As we were eating Bob looked around and wondered if any of the people there was a direct descendent of Aristotle…?

Olympics
The summer Olympics to be held in 2004 in athens is a matter of great debate among the people here. Because Greece is such a little country, and even though Athens will be greatly improved, the people are worried about the expense of maintaining all that is left once the Olympics are over. Soon an election will be held for a new mayor and local TV programs are filled with animated discussions about a new tax that is proposed to fund the improved infrastructure for the city. A new metro stop is being constructed below our hotel balcony and streets are torn up-workers working around the clock everywhere. Even though Greece is politically liberal, the people are generally very conservative and you get the feeling they enjoy nattering.

A bit of irony in these days: A T shirt saying that the fundamental Principles of Olympism is a philosophy of life exalting and combining in a balanced whole the qualities of body, will and mind. (From the Olympic Charter)

Went to Suyntagma Square to observe a demonstration and listen to Greek music supporting the Palestinians in the war with Israel. There was a huge picture of Arafat hanging at the square and our hotel proprietor told us that Greece will always support whoever it perceives is the “underdog.”

While surveying the scene, we stood and watched another drama-the street hawkers, mainly black African immigrants, selling sunglasses and purses on the blac market. Whenever the two police would walk up the street all the sellers would pick up their stuff and run and hide- then when the police passed they would all come back and within seconds be back in business again. Bystanders seemed entertained by the nightly game.

On the way back to the hotel we strolled through the Plaka looking for a place to eat and stopped to buy a small cylindrical shaped pillow for my train rides from a rug shop. On discovering we were American, the owner vented for 20 minutes about the stupidity of 9/11 and how it hurt the whole world economically because “when the US is in trouble all the countries are in trouble-like dominoes-so 9/11 hurt all of us! Look, the country is empty of tourists and my rug shop is empty!” He angrily called the people who commit these terrorist acts “barbarians.” He said in 3000 years of our history there has always been war between armies-not this barbaric stupidity- and on top of all this my 45 year old brother-in-law had a heart attack and died and I have to support my sister!” We found it difficult to find anything encouraging to say.

Illustrating the civilizations, myths and religions that flourished in Greece over a period of more than 1,000 years, the Acropolis, the site of four of the greatest masterpieces of classical Greek art – the Parthenon, the Propylaea, the Erechtheum and the Temple of Athena Nike – can be seen as symbolizing the idea of world heritage. It is an UNESCO World Heritage Site.

St. Peter’s House

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The Vatican City, one of the most sacred places in Christendom, attests to a great history and a formidable spiritual venture. A unique collection of artistic and architectural masterpieces lie within the boundaries of this small state. At its centre is St Peter’s Basilica, with its double colonnade and a circular piazza in front and bordered by palaces and gardens. The basilica, erected over the tomb of St Peter the Apostle, is the largest religious building in the world, the fruit of the combined genius of Bramante, Raphael, Michelangelo, Bernini and Maderna. It is an UNESCO World Heritage Site.

In 1965 I had missed seeing the Vatican because I refused to stand in line three hours. So we took the Metro across the Tiber River to the stop near the Vatican and noticed that the trains in Rome are completely covered-every square inch-in graffiti-so much so that Bob thought that the local government had commissioned it! Not!

After 23 years of Catholic education for Bob and 16 for me, we approached the Vatican in complete ignorance-we knew next to nothing about the Vatican or the Pope-probably says something about being Catholic…or Polish. The Polish never did like being told what to do-and neither did Bob’s ancestors-German immigrants to the Ukraine.

We learned that the Vatican occupies 108 and one half acres within the confines of Rome. It is a separate city with it’s own postal service and does a brisk business selling its postcards and stamps that must be mailed in their own mailboxes. Seeing this made it hard to picture the Catholic church that once wheeled and dealed as the mightiest power in Europe.

St. Peter’s Basilica and the Cupula
St. Peter’s is called planning for the “long term. Planning for the short term is Oregon’s Governor Barbara Roberts being given a hard time because she wants to put a nice rug and some cherry wood furniture in the Archives building! I said as much to a Canadian standing next to me at the top of the Cupula (the dome on the top of the basilica) after climbing 350 stairs and suffering claustrophobia from the slanted walls. I told my Canadian friend that I thought the world was trying to tell us that our values are in the wrong place. His answer brought me up short “Yes, we are so practical yet because we are such a young society. We are still developing and building. Other ancient societies have already had their chance to learn what is important in life.” So now, while we name buildings after politicians and businessmen, Rome names it’s airport after Leonardo da Vinci!

The confessional area was lined with priests hearing confessions in many languages. Bob tried to find out if it was customary to give an offering. I asked him if he was planning on going…he said he didn’t need it at which I shot him the big poof of air that the French taught me how to do.

Meanwhile, Bob was watching the sun coming in one of the windows high in the nave magically illuminating all of one particular statue-the one of St. Helen. He wondered aloud if St. Helen “had something to say” to him-probably, he said brightly, “to keep up the good work!”

Sistine Chapel
Would take weeks or months to absorb everything in the Vatican museum and all the rooms of art (Bob was pretty energized by the modern religious art). In the half hour we were in the Sistine Chapel, Vatican monitors shushed us every 2-3 minutes which really raised Bob’s hackles! He said it reminded him of Sister Mary Barbara! But I said I thought the noise may be damaging to the art. Besides, I told him it shouldn’t be a circus in there. I just got a harumph in reply.

Before taking the Metro back to the hotel we stopped at a small cafeteria run by three energetic young guys who served up pizza, rice stuffed tomatoes in a great pomodoro sauce with those tiny noodles and a veal dish with another kind of pomodoro sauce at our streetside table. Either we were very hungry or this was the best food in Italy!

Michelangelo’s David

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Bob is going on a walking tour where he will learn how the Renaissance Medici family ruled and held onto their city as an independent state for three centuries in face of pressure from the Papacy and how they commissioned some of the greatest art in the western world. He will learn about the political intrigues of the time and what precipitated Machiavelli’s “The Prince.”

Built on the site of an Etruscan settlement, Florence, the symbol of the Renaissance, rose to economic and cultural pre-eminence under the Medici in the 15th and 16th centuries. Its 600 years of extraordinary artistic activity can be seen above all in the 13th-century cathedral (Santa Maria del Fiore), the Church of Santa Croce, the Uffizi and the Pitti Palace, the work of great masters such as Giotto, Brunelleschi, Botticelli and Michelangelo. It is an UNESCO World Heritage Site.

In Florence in 1965, I have an indelible memory of walking along looking at Michelangelo’s unfinished works in the Galleria dell’ Accademia (Europe’s first school of drawing) lining both sides of a long hallway. Finally, at the end of the hallway I looked up and saw the most beautiful body I had ever seen standing on a four foot pedestal under a lighted dome…David…and reaching out and touching what I could have sworn was flesh…

Bob will have his own experience albeit probably quite a different one! Actually Michelangelo’s unfinished work was just as thrilling…like watching contorted bodies writhing-climbing-free of their prisons. Carved from a gigantic block of marble, David was finished in 1504 when Michelangelo was just 29…his work an inspired miracle!