REDONDOWRITER'S SACRED ORDINARY

Mary's Supposed Last Home Near Ephesus

When you return from a tour like I’ve just been on, your mind is boggled—at least mine is. One town, one set of ruins, museums, hotels, people, and experiences all seem to run together. I was strongly advised against carrying a laptop, and I was remiss in keeping a very detailed hand-written journal. There just wasn’t time to reflect except on the tour buses and then I was mesmerized in watching the environment whiz by. I had no easy access to the Internet except in Istanbul.

Take, for instance, the great ancient port city of Ephesus in Turkey, the ruins of Ephesus, the temples, basilicas and holy places. They are only coming into better focus for me in retrospect because of the detailed, written itinerary our tour company gave us, my sketchy journal entries, and my 450 photos now stored in iPhoto in chronological order.

The Ephesus ruins themselves are a story for another day, but I was deeply touched by the stone house near Ephesus which is believed to be the house of the Virgin Mary in her last days. The energy for me personally around this old stone house was incredibly strong. This house is equally venerated by Christians and Muslims, by the way.

This is me outside of Mary's house. If you click on the photos in this entry, they will pop up larger.

The belief that the Virgin Mary had spent her last days in the vicinity of Ephesus and that she had died there, came about because of a nun named Anna Katherina Emmerich who lived from 1774-1820.To read the entire story, the city of Kusadasi has detailed information. In a nutshell, the efforts to find the house were greatly influenced by her detailed description of the Virgin Mary's coming to Ephesus, her life and her last home there and the characteristics of the city although Emmerich had never been to Ephesus.

Emmerich had seen in her visions the Virgin Mary leaving Jerusalem with St. John before the persecution of Christians had become worse and their coming to Ephesus; she had also seen that the house in Ephesus was on a mountain nearby and that the Christians who had settled there before lived in tents and caves. She said furthermore that the house of the Virgin Mary, a stone house, was built by St. John, that it was rectangular in plan with a round back wall and had an apse and a hearth. The room next to the apse was her bedroom and there was a stream of water running by it. Emmerich wrote details of her vision as follows:

"After completing her third year here she had a great desire to go to Jerusalem. John and Peter took her there. She was taken so ill and lost so much weight in Jerusalem that everybody thought she was going to die and they began preparing a grave for her. When the grave was finished the Virgin Mary recovered. She was feeling strong enough to return to Ephesus. After returning to Ephesus the Virgin Mary became very weak and at 64 years of age she died. The saints around her performed a funeral ceremony for her and put the coffin they had specially prepared into a cave about two kilometers away from the house.”

Whether there is any truth to this story or not is irrelevant to me personally. I just know that this visit stood out in my mind then—and now.

Nearby is a wall made up of bits of cloth on which people write their prayer requests and gratitudes. It is a very long wall and for some reason, I recalled my own visit to the Vietnam Wall in Washington, DC, and to the Lennon Memorial in New York's Central Park. No man is an island.

When I saw this small written prayer on a piece of note paper tied into the cloth wall, I felt an incredible wave of inter-connectedness. I cannot read the language in which the words are written, but I felt as though the request was a universal one somehow.

Another blogger I tripped across today, Chris Trost, wrote the journal I wish I had taken the time to write when he visited Turkey in October. You can read his entry about Ephesus and Izmir and see some of his photos at Idle Thoughts and Musings.

Santorini: The Jewel of the Greek Islands

Yesterday afternoon at 4 p.m., my friends and I returned home from our 11 day trip to Turkey and Greece. This trip, without a doubt, was one of the most memorable—and definitely the most physically challenging in my lifetime. Our day of return began at 2:15 a.m. when we flew from Athens to Paris, and Paris to Los Angeles--16 hours on a plane. I slept for 13 hours straight after returning as our days began early in the morning and there was lots of hiking and climbing through famous sites and ruins. There was little time for reflection except for brief journal jottings and souvenirs which I'll later make into a scrapbook. Over the weeks to come, I’ll post some photos from the 400 plus I downloaded into my computer, but right now I’m still unpacking, organizing and debriefing, when I’m not cat napping.

We followed the footsteps of St. Paul in the Book of Acts beginning with Istanbul and ending in Athens, Greece. Every day was memorable, but probably the most startlingly beautiful place we visited was the Greek island Santorini, which was not on Paul's itinerary, I'm sure, but it was on the itinerary of our cruise ship.

This photo was taken after we had taken the finicular up the side of the mountain and were waiting for sunset.

And this photo was taken from the island as the sun set over the Agean sea and that's our cruise ship waiting for our return. There are no docks at Santorini so tenders take the tourists via tender boats.

According to Wikipedia, Santorini is a small, circular archipelago of volcanic islands located in the southern Aegean Sea, about 200 km south-east from Greece's mainland. It is also known as Thera forming the southernmost member of the Cyclades group of islands, with an area of approximately 73 km (28 mi) and a 2001 census population of 13,670. It is comprised of the Municipality of Thera (pop. 12,440) and the Community of Oía, pop. 1,230, which includes 268 inhabitants who are actually on the offshore island of Therasia, lying to the west. They have a total land area of 90.623 km which also includes the uninhabited islands of Nea Kameni, Palaia Kameni, Aspronisi, and Christiani, all part of the Municipality of Thira. Legend has it that one of the island’s pieces sunk into the sea after a volcanic eruption and became what we now know as Atlantis.

If you want to find out more about this beautiful and quaint island, go to the Santorini website, or follow the island on its webcam called the Caldera.

As I dozed again this afternoon, it was Santorini that wove itself through my fitful dreams as my body attempts to heal itself from travel.

Grateful Greetings From Istanbul

On the same day I was touring, in the rain, the Blue Mosque, the Hagia Sophia, the Topakaki Palace and the Archeological Museum in Istanbul, Condoleeza Rice was here, too, though on her way to Ankara.  I admit she was not one of the thousands of tourists seeing the same places I was.

I'm utterly enchanted, utterly exhausted and there is a line to use the four computers in our hotel's business center. But, I must tell you a woo-woo story from the Hagia Sophia. There is a archeological column there that has been long believed to answer prayers if you put your thumb in a hole in it, make a full turn, and pray for something specific. There was a long line of school children in front of us and they were enchanted with us--and my friend Betty and I with them, so time passed quickly as we waited our turn.

I took a few photos of the children's hands when they were making their wishes (or praying) and then it was Betty's turn. I took a photo of her hand--and when we looked at the digital photo tonight, there are several dots of glowing red around her hand. There were none around the children's hands. It is absolutely amazing to look at. Make of it what you will, but Betty had done this ritual with an intention and is convinced she will get a positive response.

The flights getting here were very long but slept well last night. The weather is lousy but predicted to clear in the days to come, but not even the rain was all that inconvenient. Tomorrow we bus to the City of Troy and environs. A model of the Trojan horse is in the children's section of the Archeological Museum in Istanbul and it was fun watching the kids climb up into it and wave to their parents.

The Turkish people are very friendly and gracious, our hotel is just fine and right by the Grand Bazaar. My travel mates are the best of the best. I remain remarkably excited by everything I am experiencing, but for an older woman, all the cobblestones and antiquities are hard to walk in in the rain. But, hey, it makes it all that much more memorable.

A mosque is right across the street and a loud speaker calls the men to prayer several times a day. It brings tears to my eyes.

I will bring home lots of photos--and I did pray today in the Hagia Sophia for all of you who read here.

I Am Listening to Istanbul, a Poem

On the eve of my departure for our pilgrimage trip to Turkey and Greece, I looked up Turkish poetry. Orhan Veli Kanik, a famous Turkish poet, was born in 1914 in Istanbul. He wrote different poems than the other poets, it is said. He used new themes, new feelings and his poems were written in everyday language. Orhan Veli was very successful by examining the inside world of the people with a sense of humor. I will read this poem once I'm safely inside my hotel in Istanbul, whose room supposedly will look like this.

I AM LISTENING TO ISTANBUL

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
At first there blows a gentle breeze
And the leaves on the trees
Softly flutter or sway;
Out there, far away,
The bells of water carriers incessantly ring;
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Then suddenly birds fly by,
Flocks of birds, high up, in a hue and cry
While nets are drawn in the fishing grounds
And a woman's feet begin to dabble in the water.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
The Grand Bazaar is serene and cool,
A hubbub at the hub of the market,
Mosque yards are brimful of pigeons,
At the docks while hammers bang and clang
Spring winds bear the smell of sweat;
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Still giddy since bygone bacchanals,
A seaside mansion with dingy boathouses is fast asleep,
Amid the din and drone of southern winds, reposed,
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
Now a dainty girl walks by on the sidewalk:
Cusswords, tunes and songs, malapert remarks;
Something falls on the ground out of her hand,
It's a rose I guess.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
A bird flutters round your skirt;
I know your brow is moist with sweat
And your lips are wet.
A silver moon rises beyond the pine trees:
I can sense it all in your heart's throbbing.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes

Orhan Veli Kanik (Translated by Murat Nemet Nejat)

Can't Believe I'll be Enroute to Paris on Halloween

On the afternoon of October 31, I will board an Air France flight to Paris for our 11 day pilgrimage trip to Turkey and Greece sponsored by the Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles and their Hands and Healing Project. (I just heard that Air France has had reduced flights due to a four day flight attendants strike. Supposedly it settles tomorrow.) This past Wednesday the reality of the trip finally hit and I began to gather the stuff to take, doing the shopping to get the things I didn't have, and generally began to get really excited.

I've written about this trip before, but I still have to pinch myself to make sure it is really happening. No, we will not be in the part of Turkey that borders Iraq, Syria and Iran. We fly to Paris and connect to Istanbul. Over the next days we visit ancient Constantinople, Topkapi Palace, the Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque, see the Archaeological Museum and visit the Grand Bazaar, to name a few of the sites. Then we go to the City of Troy, Canakkale, Pergamum and Izmir. On day six we'll be at Ephesus and Kusadasi, where next we'll embark on a three day cruise of the Greek Islands. We'll see Patmos, Rhodes, Heraklion and Santorini. On day ten we go to Piraeus Harbor for the trip to Corinth and then Athens for two days.

The best part of all is that three of my close girlfriends are also taking this trip and I have met many of our other traveling companions. I am so excited. Those of you who read regularly here know how much I've traveled alone since my divorce and I keep vowing not to do that anymore. And my niece and a friend are staying at my home to take care of my beloved Cookie.

And then, to top it all off, my friends Barbara and Jerry just told me about a trip to Assisi and environs and then Rome happening next September, and my friend Betty, who just arrived today at my house from upstate New York, wants to go and room with me. I had begun to think my "big" traveling days might be over and instead it seems as though they are just beginning. I also have two conferences to attend in 2008--one in DC and another in Denver, plus my regular trips to Washington state.

I do not like flying, by the way, although I don't fear it. I just hate the hassle and especially the tedium of the long flights. I hate driving rental cars, but that won't be happening this time. I am just so grateful that I am able to travel at my age and that I have the resources to do it. You know how frugal I am, but the pilgrimage trips are one of the best travel bargains you can imagine. Incidentally, in 2010, there is another pilgrimage trip to Germany with the highlight being the Passion Play at Oberammergau which only happens every ten years. Lord, let my health and my attitude remain good. Let the next two days at work be really productive ones.

For those of you who are young and feel like you'll never get out from under, if you are forunate, you work your ass off to save for retirement--and then it comes. How blessed I feel tonight as I write this.

A Day in San Diego's Old Town Teaches Some Life Lessons

Yippee! Slept in for the first time in a week and then I took my suite mate to mass at Blessed Sacrament parish, which is also the university's Newman Center. She is a third order Franciscan and without a car, she has really missed going to mass. It’s the first time I’ve gone to a Catholic mass in several months, but I must admit, it all came back instantly. I tried to be fully present and kept telling my inner critic to knock off reminders of my Catholic hot buttons--the exclusion of women and gays, for two. Inside the bulletin today was an announcement about the Diocese of San Diego's reorganization after its bankruptcy to pay off the child abuse cases.

The next six hours were spent in Old Town San Diego where I made up my mind to revel in my tourista persona. I walked miles today and it was hot, so I must admit that I was really uncomfortable if I stayed on my feet more than an hour at a time. But, I quickly figured it out—after an hour or thereabouts, I found a shady spot to sit, watch the world go by, and record it in my journal.

This is part of an entry I wrote as I sat in front of the historic courthouse and jail. “It is very discouraging to realize my mobility is so impaired compared to a few years ago. Growing old gracefully is all about adapting and not giving up because you hurt or you can’t move as fast as you used to.” I ate outdoors at the Café Coyote with countless other tourists and inside the open bar the soccer aficionados were drinking the biggest margaritas I ever saw and cheering on the U.S. or Mexico. The mariachis were strolling and serenading us. I took many photos, visited the old Plaza Chapel and met docent Bob. I also visited dozens upon dozens of souvenir or specialty shops both inside Old Town and adjacent. That’s where I met Sheriff Cody and many other quaint characters in costume. The quilting lady in the mercantile also fascinated me as she was making her quilt all the times I passed by. I bought two things: a whacky little crown with flashing lights to replace the one Anthony’s friends destroyed that I keep in my downstairs “throne room” bathroom—and a beautiful Our Lady of Guadalupe clay plaque for my garden. Someone at work loved my old one so much, that I gave it to him after his son was shot in a drive-by. That one is now the focal piece of an altar he built in his garage.

I finished my day in Presidio Park, writing in a shady area at a gorgeous old stone table covered in gang graffiti and listening to a bagpiper play music as a greeting to guests arriving for a wedding.

As I wind down tonight I am aware of a few things. I am so grateful to be as active and curious about life as I am and I can learn to adapt. Also, something is percolating in my head. I want to explore the idea of an elder woman's group, single women most likely because of their flexinility, that will meet regularly to exchange information and ideas about our spiritual beliefs, study spiritual and/or spiritual books celebrating women. The third component would be travel together--just day trips locally or maybe weekends or weeks exploring the places we know and love--like San Diego. I am so tired of traveling alone, as I've often said, which is why Elderhostel and guided tours are so perfect.

Doing a Turkey and Greece Happy Dance

In your dreams, Fran—in your dreams. Ever since I was a young girl, I’ve wanted to see Greece, Tahiti, Turkey, Florence, Paris, Southern Italy, just to name a few places. I have been to Tahiti, I’ll admit, and a lot of other places including parts of England and Germany, Mexico, Canada, the Caribbean, the Dutch West Indies, and most of the U.S., but now Classical Greece and Turkey will see me from October 31-November, 11 2007, I’m delighted to report.

As you may have read, I recently decided that my traveling alone days are over (although I’ll make exceptions in the U.S.), and Elderhostel does offer an alternative, and I’m sure there are many other companies out there. But, I’d rather travel with a friend or friends even with the all-inclusive companies--and I haven't been able to entice anyone to go where I am interested in going--with a spiritual component, and affordable. I’ve been doing a lot of visualization about some places I still want to see in my lifetime, but most of the tours my friends go on are too expensive for me.

When a friend in Ojai mentioned this trip to Greece and Turkey, at first I pooh-poohed it because that’s during the school year and it is my intention to still be working at the school next fall. But, my friend went on a NAWAS trip to Russia last year and loved it; sponsored by the Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles, and hosted by the Bishop and his wife, and a local canon, I began to seriously consider it. I looked at the price and the places the trip will go including the Hagia Sophia, a 3-day cruise of the Greek Islands including Santorini, and I thought. “Oh, what the hell. I’m a part-time employee so I’ll make-up the work I miss. Yesterday I spoke with Canon Jim Newman of St. Bede’s Church, filled out my paperwork, wrote a check for the $300 deposit, and sent him a copy of my passport.

As I’ve Googled, I see that NAWAS International Travel has a niche market on affordable spiritual travel and many of the churches who book trips through them end up having what I would call a “pilgrimage experience.” Since I like to look at my life as a pilgrimage, this is right down my alley—and at this moment, (hip, hip, hooray) there are five women I know who are going. And who knows? Maybe YOU will see this and want to go, too.

So, what places do you still want to see in your life? If you use affordable tour companies, who can you recommend? The travel/study programs through the universities also sound interesting to me. Anyhow, I will see the Hagia Sophia, a dream, and the island of Santorini; for a long time I had a Santorini screen saver. I fell in love with this notion when I watched the modernized film version “Tempest” in the early 1980s. We’ll be visiting Istanbul, Troy, Canakkale, Izmir, Ephesus, Kusadasi, Patmos, Rhodes, Heraklion, Athens, and doing the island cruise.

So—not just in my dreams anymore; Greece and Turkey are a reality, something to look forward to and save for all the coming months. And who knows what after that? I know of a retired art history professor who does tours each fall to Florence and Southern Italy. Could that be in the cards for 2008? And Betsy, thanks for the tip on Main Street Tours in Torrance; I've e-mailed them.

Off to Laughlin--Again

It's 11 p.m. and I'm going to bed because I have to wake up at 4 a.m. so I can be in Sunland, 40 miles across town, by 6 a.m. That's where I'm bumming a ride with classmates who are caravaning to Laughlin, NV. Laughlin is not my favorite town, though it does have the flavor of the old Las Vegas of my youth. This is all about getting together with friends from the classes of 1953, 1954, 1955, 1956, and 1957 from Verdugo Hills High School. I've been kind of cranky lately, so I'm setting an intention to not try to control situations, or people. I intend to have an absolute blast--and have packed craft supplies, lap top, camera and books for when I'm not supervising the hospitality room.

I just think it's a hoot for 200 people to gather who range from the ages of 67 to 72. The older I get, the more precious it is to be with people you grew up with--and share the stories of who we were and who we became. A few of the good looking old goats will come with younger women, but it's amazing how many of the people are still married to the same people.

Laughlin, here I come! Hey, did I tell you the Flamingo is $39 on Saturday, but $19 on the other nights? Sheesh; you can't beat that and with a view of the Colorado River to boot.

A Journey With Two Ladies of a Certain Age

Leave it to Roz Cawley at Autumn Cottage Diary to treat us to an extremely unique travel experience. A jolly good English woman, Roz and her friend Liz are going to Venice via an antique diary Roz bought from a dealer where two women of a certain age "did Venice" in 1906. They will follow in these adventuresome women's footsteps. Sounds like a book in the works to me.

Roz says, "Another life, several years ago. I was a dealer in antiquarian books and prints, but also continued to collect old hand written diaries and journals. I had accumulated a collection of those for twenty years or so, as part of my more general passion for journal and diary keeping.

One day, one of the dealers from whom I regularly bought stock handed me several old, battered, and to be honest, frankly uninteresting exercise books, telling me "I put these back for you - I thought they might be of some interest". So began the adventure which has set me on the trail to Venice.

The Venetian Journal is the hand-written account of the journey of two ladies who travelled together to Venice in the late spring of 1906. Together with a written account of their travels, the authoress includes several of her own photographs and a number of postcards - some of which you can see here. 
The ladies travelled together, by train, from London to Paris, then on to Basle en route to Venice, where they stayed for three weeks, before travelling back to London via Verona, Milan and the "Hotel Belle Vue" on Lake Como.

The journal is filled with postcards, original photographs, and a detailed account of how the ladies spent their days. A great deal of their time was spent perusing art galleries, but also wandering the markets, and taking boat trips - out to the Lido, and to the glass blowers island of Murano. Every page is made more enteratining by being filled with much opinion as well as description - and this writer was not short on either!"

Roz goes on to say, "Ladies of a Certain Age like a little adventure in their lives - so in this centenary year of the journal's original writing, we thought it would be a wonderful experience to retrace the steps of our intrepid English ladies. We, too, will visit the galleries, the markets and the islands, with our observations and opionions recorded in our own journals and sketchbooks. Think Maggie Smith and Dame Judi Dench, A Room With a View, and maybe even a little Francesco Da Mosto. (Well, who knows? one can but hope!)"

Roz and Liz’s adventures coming up in Venice can be read at Ladies of a Certain Age.

I don’t know what the British would say, but it sounds like a jolly good romp to me. Am I saying it right?

Blip, Chihuly, Ardi and Washington Update

Well, our idyllic trip took a bit of a downturn last night—at least for my traveling companion Ruth. Sigh! After reveling in our arrival at WomanSpirit Center, Ruth got a series of upsetting phone calls from her daughter in Los Angeles who was working through some difficulties. Just to be on the safe side, Ruth caught an early flight today back to L.A. this morning instead of Tuesday. I am assuming all is well, but I haven’t heard from her yet.

So, I am now traveling alone—sort of. Dear Ardi, whom I know from Sacred Ordinary, came to take us sightseeing, but we had alerted her in advance, so she brought Ruth to the airport on our way out of town. Ardi is a kindred spirit and within moments, we felt like we had known each other for years. My voice, partly from the cold and cough (which she also had—what a pair we were) and partly from chattering too much, is nearly gone tonight. Here we are clowning around in front of Tacoma's Union Station.

Ardi left the travel schedule up to me but I decided I didn't want to do the high tourist Seattle thing. I just can't face into a city yet. But, Tacoma's Union Station, which is a magnificent old building—with several of Dale Chihuly’s glass pieces on display, was a perfect suggestion. Here are just a few of the pieces in the station.

I have heard so much about Chihuly, but had never seen any of his work except in books, film and the Internet before. Then we went to the Museum of Glass across a bridge with a spectacular view of the Tacoma Marina. What a wonderful museum this is! First we watched the live glass blowers, which was really something to experience, since the only real glassblowing I’ve seen has been in hot tiny factories in Mexico and at Knotts Berry Farm. Each day a visiting artist blows several pieces with the assistance of the Museum’s team.

For anyone who lives in the Seattle/Tacoma area, I highly recommend taking the time to see the current exhibits. Karen LaMonte's Absence Adorned, a magnificent exhibit of the female form double cast with clothing over the forms was breathtaking; it closes on September 4. Joyce Scott’s Kickin It, also delightful, closes soon, too.

Our next trip was Pt. Defiance, an old Hudson's Bay Co. fort high on a hill overlooking the narrows bridge. Ardi pointed out that they are slowly restructuring it. I finally got my first taste of Mexican food since leaving L.A. at a great local restaurant, and then Ardi took me to a favorite bookstore of hers in Black Diamond called Baker Street Books. Ardi’s writing groups meet in this charming space and this photo of Ardi is next to an art and writing piece called B is for Bookstore she made when the bookstore first opened. This is Ardi with her book.

Lastly we visited the log cabin she and her husband built themselves in 1968—hardly a cabin, but a wonderful home with floor to ceiling bookcases in every room, I swear, an art studio, and a deck overlooking the forest behind. Ardi loves to travel and I asked to see photos from the iditarods where she has volunteered one year as a cook—and a trip to India for a wedding of a friend’s family member. Ardi has really had some wonderful traveling experiences--and she loves her state, where she was born and raised.

For those who think I’m a little hyper for my age, let me tell you how much I’m looking forward to just resting in this beautiful retreat center until I leave on Tuesday. But, what another special day this was—and how grateful I am now have Ardi as a real time friend as well as a cyber one.