my celebrity signature book

Wait, you thought I went to the cradle of western civilization and was going to pass up the chance to do an uber long, boring post on it? I was just getting up the gumption to do it justice. 

Give up reading now. It's not worth you time. It's going to be long, I'm going to be long winded and you will have to be long suffering to endure it. Silver lining: it will be full of pictures of old buildings--or as I like to think of them: celebrities. 

Rome. 

I have been here before but Rome is a many layered city. The kind of city where you can revisit and find new incredible discoveries. Like going for a run along the Tiber River and stumbling upon the tomb of Cesar Augustus or ducking into one of the many churches, just to get out of the sun, and finding yourself beneath one of the most famous painted ceilings in the world. 

So, I love Rome. 

Rocky swears we visited the Forum last time. But I am not convinced.

This time I visited with a flip book contrasting what Ancient Rome looked like then to what it looks like now and telling the specifics about all the buildings. Basically, it's geared toward seven year olds. I loved it. I bought more where ever I could. I now own a nearly complete collection of 3rd grade flip books on ancient civilizations. (whoever has my name for Christmas, I am still missing a few cities.)

Not only is Rome old but it's beautiful. Beauty is as beauty does--if you want to knock down an interior wall in Rome city center, you have to get the signatures from everyone on your block. If you break a window, be prepared to find the exact same window or buy new windows for your entire building. As someone who's makeup routine is: think about putting on make up, rationalize that it will all melt off anyway and compromise with occasional sun screen,  I find this kind of up keep overwhelming.

I'm pretty confident in my ability to find cool historical sites where ever I go. It's a blessing and a curse. A blessing for me, a curse for everyone around me. Italy and Greece are almost too easy.

While we were staying on the Amalfi Coast we visited Herculaneum. It was a resort town that was wiped out by Vesuvius at the same time as Pompeii, 79AD. Unlike Pompeii, Herculaneum was covered by mud, not ash. It is a more recent discovery and is still in the processing of being excavated. Our guide, repeatedly told us it was all thanks to an American billionaire. This American billionaire is slowing buying up the houses and buildings around the site and then tearing them down so they can discover what's underneath. 

When Herculaneum was first excavated they found no skeletons and assumed the people had evacuated. But when the excavated the ship yards they found the remains of over 300 people, who were waiting for boats to save them. These people had not been buried in ash but had died from fulminent shock--instant death from intense heat. 

Because the city was covered in mud, it was preserved incredibly well. 

 Press for ironing clothes.

 Original painting on the walls of the temple.

 The women's bath was preserved near perfectly.

Here are their lead pipes. Made with lead taken from conquered England. These pipes are considered by some historians to have brought about the fall of Rome.

The original wood from nearly 2000 years ago.

A sign above a restaurant. If you didn't speak the language, you could point to the picture of what you wanted. I tip my hat to Rome for inventing this system, as I use it nearly everyday.

You probably thought I would take a break from archeological digs while relaxing on Santorini. 

Nope, I found one there too. The city of Akrotiri is three cities built a top one another--each preserved by separate volcanic eruptions. The oldest is from 1600 BC. Unlike Herculaneum and Pompeii--there have been no human remains found in these cities. The people knew the signs of the volcano and left, returning only when it was safe to rebuild. 

It's over 3000 years old! It was about this point in the trip where I started saying, "If it's not over 2000 years old, I don't even want to see it." It's as snobbish as it sounds, especially coming from someone who's country is less than 400 years old. 

Athens.

Athens was my favorite.

I went to Athens fulling believing all I had heard about Athens. That is was dirty, poorly maintained and not worth much time. Remember, I live in Bangkok. I loved Athens. I loved the history--layered by a strong culture. I quickly bought my Athens flip book for 3rd graders and went to working trying to see everything in it. We only had two days here, there was no time for resting.

I feel a particular affinity with the Parthenon because it's old and amazing but also because while I was studying in London I visited the Elgin Parthenon marbles nearly weekly. I once wrote a 10 page paper defending Lord Elgin's apparent theft of the relics from the Acropolis. You don't have to listen in on very many tour guides in Athens to learn Lord Elgin is personana non grata around here.

Lord Elgin was the ambassador to the Ottoman Empire around the turn of the 19th century. While he was visiting Athens, he signed a deal with the governing turks that allowed him to pick up any thing of the ground of the Acropolis. He took so much stuff, one of his ships take.

This is where it gets dicey. According to the Greeks--he not only had no right sign a deal to take what was on the ground, but he got greedy and took sculptures and freizes off the walls. I saw a cartoon in the New Acropolis Museum detailing how he pried things off with a crow bar. In our house cartoon is fact. It is the infallible primary source of all 2-6 year olds. So I believe it. Besides, he took so much stuff, one of his ships sank.

In my paper I defended Elgin. He wanted to preserve these ancient pieces from the occupying turks who stored their munitions on the acropolis and blew the roof off the Parthenon with a poorly aimed cannonball. Mainly I felt sorry for him. After he returned to England, his wife left him, he lost his nose to the plague and he wound up forced to sell the Parthenon marbles to the British Museum (which, while living in London, I considered a win for me).

Elgin has always been a bit of a sore spot for the Greeks, who suffering under 400 years of Ottoman rule were unable to care for their relics as they would have like to. Now they have transferred their passive aggressive anger to the British Museum for refusing to return them.

The recently finished the New Acropolis Museum, besides showing cartoon vandal Elgin and training their guides to work him into every possible discussion,  has gone out of their way to make the British Museum uncomfortable. (Passive aggressive arguments between museums, why has this not been made into movie? This is my dream drama.) The museum in Athens has either left blank spaces where the British Museum's marbles are, or put poor copies in their place with signs clearly describing where the missing pieces are held.

Though I defended Elgin's decision to take the marbles 200 years ago, the Greeks have shown they are capable of preserving the marbles of the Parthenon, maybe it's time to return them. But maybe not quite yet, let's see how it plays out. I'm still waiting for the British Museum's response. Any other museums want to get in on the mix? Is there a way we could make this a movie? What about involving Nicholas Cage? If he's in, I just jumped ship.

Cannons left over from the Turkish occupation.

My flip book would tell you this is the old amphitheater. It looked much more impressive 2000 years ago. But that was 2000 years ago, so I'm still really impressed.

Mars Hill, where Paul gave his sermon on the unknown god.

I think this is how some people feel meeting celebrities. #starstruck

In case you were wondering, I took about 500 pictures just of the Parthenon.

 We drove past the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier just as the changing of the guards was taking place. These uniforms have 400 pleats--one for each year of the Ottoman occupation. They have to be ironed while standing.

Arch of Hadrian. Since I've been to his wall, I feel like coming to the arch was like returning to an old friend.

I went to Athens believing I only needed a few hours to see it, but I found I could spend weeks here and barely scratch the surface of all it has to offer. If I did spend weeks here, I would be eating those donuts for every meal and probably weigh about 20 lbs more.

I've decided if I had a celebrity signature book I would fill it with pictures of me with really old stuff. I'm not sure whether this is more or less nerdy than bringing a board game with me to a restaurant last night.

You decide.

When in Mongolia....

I figure if you are reading this blog, you probably know me well enough to know I am not exactly an avid hunter.  In fact, I haven't shot anything beyond a clay pigeon since I was in junior high.  With that said, when my buddies proposed a December wolf hunting expedition to Mongolia I thought it sounded like the epitome of manliness.  This was certainly going to be a trip our wives would not complain much about not getting to participate in.  

There are only a few outfits that offer wolf hunting in Mongolia and we decided to go the ultimate budget route.  This worked out well because it allowed us to spend a little extra getting the warm garb that is needed when four guys from Bangkok decide to spend a week in Mongolia.  To say the climate change was drastic would be a severe understatement.  According to the Mongolians, we were lucky because this was the warmest Mongolian December in many years.  It didn't feel like it to us as the resulting temperature drop from Bangkok to Mongolia was still between 80-100 degrees, as opposed to the 120 it probably should have been.

 The village we were staying in was about a six hour drive from Ulaanbataar, most of which was on either dirt, snow or brush, and usually a combination of the three. Upon arrival we quickly realized our budget outfitter would allow us a pretty good opportunity to experience life similar to a local Mongolian.  This was awesome and I wouldn't have had it any other way.  We stayed in a snug little 12x12 room without running water but with some comfy wooden cots.  The closeness of the beds made it a perfect setup for a friendly game of hearts at the end of each day hunting.  My usual luck with cards failed me three nights out five and I was rewarded with having to do push ups over the outhouse hole.  If any of my siblings want to see video highlights let me know.  I decided I would spare my other six readers of the blog the sight.



Whatever luck I was missing in hearts, I made up for in hunting wolves.  From my first experience in hunter's safety class at age 10 (I was the only one in a class of 30 that could not hit a picture of a rabbit from about 15 yards away) I have been well-aware of my limited aim when it comes to shooting guns.  That is why I was absolutely shocked when, not an hour into our first morning hunt, I nailed a wolf running full speed with a single shot, literally right between the eyes (notice the dark spot right between his eyes).  It was uncanny.  At this point, our guide was thinking I was some kind of sharp shooter. It didn't take long for me to prove him otherwise.

Each of the four of us had one tag for a wolf and one tag for a gazelle.  In Mongolia there are literally thousands of gazelles roaming the steppe.  We were told by our guide that he could not guarantee we would shoot wolves (it would depend on your skill), but he guaranteed each of us would get a gazelle (no matter how bad of shot we were).  On our gazelle hunt, Dan got things started quickly by taking down his gazelle on his very first attempt.  Jonny was next and looked great getting one on his second attempt.  Spencer was next and he was efficient enough to get a husband/wife gazelle combo in only 5 shots.  

At this point, our guide was still quite impressed by our skills.  I then proceeded to shoot and miss at seventeen separate gazelles.  It was about as embarrassing a showing as that dreaded day when I failed hunter's safety class.   Luckily, as the saying goes, even a blind squirrel can find a nut once in a while.  On the 18th shot I finally nailed my gazelle.  At that point our guide literally fell to his knees and offered a few Mongolian hosannas up to the sky.  It was embarrassing, but at least I could retire from the gazelle hunt and we had managed to fill each of our four gazelle tags.

Over the next four days of hunting we managed to fill our four wolf tags as well.  They were definitely more scarce in numbers and presented a tricky target as they seemed to like running away from us, more so than the still standing gazelles that I couldn't hit.

The best part of the gazelle hunt was us getting to eat the meat via the traditional Mongolian barbecue.  Before this trip I only new Mongolian barbecue as the place where you can go and stuff as much food into a bowl as humanly possible and then let them try to pry the food from the bowl so they can cook it on a skillet.  I am not sure where the Americans came up with that idea, but apparently it is not exactly accurate.  The real Mongolian barbecue consists of making a big fire and putting a bunch of rocks inside the fire.  Once the flames burn down you separate the rocks and brush them off a little so you can place the meat directly on the hot rocks.  This method is easier than trying to bring all of the barbecue tools we use in the US.  The result is a delicious gazelle barbecue.  It was a delicious meal and it was very nice to enjoy a little warmth of the fire during the lunch break.



Another use of the lunch break was to allow our Mongolian guide to skin our wolf skins.  After I shot the first wolf, our guide was excited to let us know it was a male wolf.  After he had been working on the wolf for a few minutes he came over to the group with what we soon learned to be the wolf's testicles.  The guide separated the two and plopped one in his mouth telling us it was good luck.  He looked at me and handed me the second.  All I could muster was a nervous, "when in Mongolia, do as the Mongolians do."  It was nice that it was still warm so I could at least imagine it had been cooked.

All in all, the trip was amazing.  We had a lot of fun and even stayed un-frozen (I originally had warm there) for the most part.  Mongolia was a truly foreign country and I am lucky to have experienced it as we did.  Speaking of lucky, this applies to any of my siblings whom I have your name for Christmas......  Let's just say your presents are coming from Mongolia.  What could go wrong with that?



This pictures looks almost as cold as it really felt.