Archaeology, digging around in the dirt to sift through eons of accumulated rubble, produces images of ancient Romans in Myra and the Church of Saint Nicholas; yes, that's right, the coal baring priest who rewards and punishes children according to their behavior. St. Nicholas is also the patron Saint of prisoners and merchants. Can you tell the difference?
Rome was not built in a day and in its far flung empire, the needs of the people were addressed. Here an aqueduct bringing snowmelt to town.
Friends Romans Countrymen, lend me your ears.
A merchant. In her left hand, a cigarette. Bowls and trinkets authentically produced in Turkey.
From the coast and its towns and cities that hug the water's edge, we head inland. To do so we must climb steep mountains where the snowfields begin at 5000 feet and the tree line ends at 10,000. We have found the Western portion of the Silk Road whose other end lies East of modern day Pakistan.
.
The Silk Road caravans were vulnerable to plundering so every 15 miles or so were built fortresses where merchant and animals could spend the night to gather under one roof. 
In the dessert high plains a city of Konya was the birth place of a Madras and the Whirling Dirvishes. In such a revamped way station, we saw a performance.
For our caravan, we continued East across the fertile dessert through a rain storm until reaching our cave dwelling in Cappadocia, late into the evening just in time for dinner to be over.
Following the morning call to prayer, we aroused to the city out our window and the beginnings of the cave dwelling Christians, also repatriated to Greece some fifty years ago. Caves had no running water, sewer, nor adequate flu ventilation for their underground fires. Early deaths and high infant mortality were the norm.
And for those of you who do not live in a cave, you too can deliver a respiratory burden 50 times that of cigarette smoking and comparable to living 100 meters below ground in oil lamp lit quarters, reeking of fire and waste water and be safe from your enemies whom you rarely get out to see.
In the dessert high plains a city of Konya was the birth place of a Madras and the Whirling Dirvishes. In such a revamped way station, we saw a performance.
For our caravan, we continued East across the fertile dessert through a rain storm until reaching our cave dwelling in Cappadocia, late into the evening just in time for dinner to be over.
Following the morning call to prayer, we aroused to the city out our window and the beginnings of the cave dwelling Christians, also repatriated to Greece some fifty years ago. Caves had no running water, sewer, nor adequate flu ventilation for their underground fires. Early deaths and high infant mortality were the norm.
And for those of you who do not live in a cave, you too can deliver a respiratory burden 50 times that of cigarette smoking and comparable to living 100 meters below ground in oil lamp lit quarters, reeking of fire and waste water and be safe from your enemies whom you rarely get out to see.
C
No comments:
Post a Comment