Tag Archives: Travel

Today would be a good day to be in Athens

August 11, 2014Monday Travel PostsAthens, Greece, History, Travelmelindacousins

I’m still pondering how to think and talk about all that is going on in the world, and I guess for some people hearing about conflicts and wars and humanitarian crises leads to a desire to stay home where it is safe and comfortable. The world can seem like a scary place. But I truly believe that one of the best ways of us to begin to care about situations and people from other cultures is to get out there – travel, learn, and engage. When we do, we recognise that what unites us as fellow human being is far greater than what divides us, and that each person and each culture is precious and can in some way challenge, inspire and change us.

So … where to for this Monday’s travel post? Well, I’m teaching an introduction to (Koine) Greek class on Monday mornings this term, which I am really enjoying, but rather than just talk about Greek nouns today, I’m thinking how good it would be if I could take my class to Athens for the day and we could soak up not only the language, but some of the history and culture.

Another reason I’d love to spend the day in Athens is that I have only ever spent one day there. Athens for me was a whirlwind 18 hour layover with my mother, who I had promised in the weeks leading up to our trip would need to “keep up” as I had big plans to see as much as I possibly could in our very limited time there! (The reality of my poor planning leading to our middle of the night arrival meant that our first experience of Athens was trying to sleep on the floor in a corner of the airport chapel … but that’s another story.)

What did I love about Athens?

The combination of a modern, bustling, noisy, (dirty), city and ancient historical ruins.

The fact that you are just casually walking down a street that has been there for thousands of years and has been travelled by philosophers and statesmen, slaves and emperors … and of course tourists.

Eating lunch overlooking the scattered ruins of the ancient Agora.

Watching the ordinary, every day business of life happening in a place with such influential history.

Army — Young soldiers on the Parthenon steps

The haunting beauty of the abandoned Olympic stadia, both ancient and modern.

Modern Olympic stadium — 1896 Olympic stadium

Olympus ruins — Ruins of the ancient Olympic site

The simple beauty of two thousand year old columns.

The spectacular beauty of the city stretching out from the ruins to the coast.

What did I learn from Athens?

It is good to appreciate how much we stand on the shoulders of those who have come before us. For example, while some of my American friends may occasionally talk as though they invented democracy :), that is just one of the many ideas and practices we have to thank the ancient Greeks, amongst others, for.

The Parthenon, one of the world’s most famous buildings, represents the contributions to our understandings of and appreciation for architecture.

Many great thinkers of their day shared their ideas in the market places and forums of this city.

One of the highlights for me was standing where the Apostle Paul stood to share with some Athenians the good news about Jesus for the first time.

As I slowly read the words of his sermon recorded on this plaque, I was challenged anew by his example in sharing his faith both passionately and respectfully.

Areopagus sign — The Greek text of Paul’s sermon to the Athenians

And as we entered the small and ancient Church of the Holy Apostles in the Agora, I was reminded of the way faith in Jesus has brought hope, purpose and passion to the lives of so many over so long. As a Christian, I am part of a family that is not only global, but transcends time. It humbles me to recognise that I am just one among so many, and yet I’m also proud to be part of something so historically transformative.

That was a lesson that had already been brought home to me back in that airport chapel I mentioned earlier. In the wee hours of the morning, a lady came in looking for someone to pray for her. We hardly had any language in common, and yet for a few minutes that morning I was able to be for her what so many others have in different times and places been for me – a sister in faith, sharing her burden just for a moment.

Church of the holy apostles inside — Inside the ancient Church of the Holy Apostles, Athens Agora

There is never a good day to be in Auschwitz-Birkenau

July 14, 2014Monday Travel PostsAuschwitz, holocaust, hope, horror, Poland, Shoah, Travelmelindacousins

Krakow is such a charming old city (one I’m sure I will write a future post about how much I Iove) and the drive to the town of Oświęcim passes through picturesque countryside. It’s hard to comprehend how such horror happened in such a beautiful place. I’m enjoying my stay in Poland, but I’m not sure that anyone could say they “enjoyed” visiting the site of the largest and most horrifically “efficient” mass murder in human history. But it is an important place to visit, to be aware of, to remember … and I’m thankful for the opportunity I had to do all of those things at the memorials of Auschwitz-Birkenau today.

DSCN3075 — Memorial text: For ever let this place be a cry of despair and a warning to humanity, where the Nazis murdered about one and a half million men, women, and children, mainly Jews from various countries of Europe.

I’m still processing what I saw today.

Before entering the sites, we watched documentary footage taken by the Russian army when they liberated the camps in January 1945. The horror of first hand accounts by both survivors and liberators had me in tears.

Walking through Auschwitz and Birkenau themselves, however, I didn’t cry. I can’t tell you why. My most common thought was actually this one:

“I just don’t know how to feel this.”

It’s too overwhelming, too big to fathom, too unthinkable to comprehend.

How should you look upon the gate with its infamous “Work brings freedom” sign, and the place behind it where the orchestra was forced to play happy songs as their families and neighbours marched out to work, often to their torture and death?

How do you describe a room filled with literal tonnes of human hair, knowing it was shaved from hundreds of thousands of corpses, people who had been gassed only minutes before?

How do you respond to the guard tower from which SS soldiers led roll calls that lasted for hours in freezing temperatures with the living propping up the dead because everyone had to be counted?

What are you supposed to feel when you stand on the railway platform where over a million men, women and children were sent to their deaths with the casual wave of a doctor’s arm?

What are the right words for the emotion of walking in their footsteps the 400 metre path to the gas chambers, conscious that in a few moments you will get to turn around and walk back the other way when they didn’t?

Questions like this are relentless in this place. You question your own reactions, you question the responses of others.

Is it a good thing or a bad thing that there are people chatting, smiling, taking photos of themselves and even laughing as they wander through this place?

What do you think when your stomach starts grumbling because you haven’t eaten in a few hours and your mind unthinkingly says, “I’m starving,” before you remember that you are walking past barracks where thousands of people died of emaciation, malnutrition and starvation?

How do you look upon the loud, brash group of young adults from the USA sauntering around proudly draped in modern Israeli flags? Is it right or wrong to find yourself unable to stop from comparing them with the quiet group of older observant Jews wearing yarmulkes and pausing to visibly mourn at various places? And what must they think of the tourists trying to sneakily take photos in places where cameras are not allowed out of respect for the humans whose remains are on display?

How do I remember and respect in a way that honours the humanity and dignity of individual people, people with stories and hopes and dreams just like me, people who were dehumanised and stripped of all they had, even their names, and whose individual preciousness is even today so easily consumed by the sheer number of all who suffered and died alongside them?

And most of all, what difference will it make to my life that I have walked through this place? How do I live with hope knowing that people, ordinary people, are capable of such darkness? How do I live with justice knowing that people, ordinary people, chose to turn a blind eye to the incremental shift in attitudes and laws that eventually led to a place like this becoming a reality?

Perhaps the question that sticks with me, and the most confronting one for me personally as a follower of Jesus, was one voiced in a film I watched only a couple of days ago in the Holocaust Memorial in Budapest; one I have been challenged to consider the ramifications of in my own life in the world today.

“The question is not where God was in Auschwitz, but where the Christians were.”

Today was a good day to be in K.L.

June 29, 2014Monday Travel Postsfaith, K.L., Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, multiculturalism, Travelmelindacousins

I’ve never been to Malaysia before, and to be honest wasn’t planning a visit, but when I booked my trip to Europe a couple of months ago, Malaysian Airlines were significantly cheaper than anyone else (one guess why)! I figured if I was going to be flying through, I should stop and look around for a couple of days. So, I’ve had two days in Kuala Lumpur, and I can say it has been worthwhile.

Coming from Adelaide’s wet and windy winter days, 35 degrees + 80% humidity was a shock to the system, but it is nice to be back in summer! And despite the predominantly concrete jungle, there are glimpse of KL’s tropical beauty all around if you look for them.

It would be great if photos came with smell!

What have I loved about K.L.?

There are basically two city centres in K.L. – the old and the new. In the new is the most famous part of Kuala Lumpur’s skyline: Petronas Towers, for 6 years the world’s tallest building, and still the tallest twin towers in the world (they held this honour pre-2001 as well, although it’s hard not to think of what happened to those others towers while here).

The skybridge between floors 41-42 of the two towers is a separate structure, which means you can feel a good gust of wind.

KL’s other significant spire is the telecommunications tower.

The “old” city is roughly 100 years old, with lots of early 20^th century buildings built by the British.

The old city is really where the cultural mix here is most evidently seen. Malaysians are rightly proud of the way Malay, Chinese and Indian heritage, culture, and food come together.

I did a great walking tour that included sampling a variety of local foods – all of which were amazing!!

Roti Tissue - paper thin and sugary, yum!! — Roti Tissue – paper thin and sugary, yum!!

Where there are many cultures coming together, you also have many beliefs. Although Islam is the dominant religion in Malaysia, KL has temples of all kinds.

The city's oldest Chinese temple (Tao/Buddhist) — The city’s oldest Chinese temple (Tao/Buddhist)

Hindu priest relaxing at the Sri Mamamarianmanan temple

A little out of the centre of town is the impressive looking royal palace, strictly available for photo ops out the front.

What have I learned from K.L.?

I love visiting different cities and walking the streets to get a feel for them. K.L. presented some challenges – in many parts the city is really not designed for walking, and trying to find a way through the busy streets was its own kind of “fun”.

Kuala Lumpur is certainly a growing city, with plenty of construction everywhere you look. Whether this is all positive “progress” depends on who you ask – there are those who lament the destruction of heritage, and I couldn’t help but notice as in many parts of the world, it is the homes of the poor that seem to be being taken over for construction of buildings for the wealthy.

I was also challenged by the sheer number of shopping malls. Both for tourists and locals, it seems that there is another growing religion in K.L – consumerism. I hate to sound too judgemental, but given the poverty I have seen around the world, and yes, here too, I find myself struggling to know how to respond to the whole “shopping as entertainment” culture which is so heavily promoted. We all have much to learn about living in a world of global injustice.

Another recurring impression I had was that while Australians like to think we are multicultural, a place like KL reminds me that many of our cities are really quite mono-cultural, and perhaps we have something to learn about accepting others. Hearing the most recent news from home about our response to refugees while here certainly brings some heartache and huge questions.

Signs abound here for “1 Malaysia” – a claim of harmony in diversity. Questions remain whether you can scratch too far beneath that surface.

I spent some time in the Islamic Arts Museum, and it was good to appreciate some aspects of the beauty of a faith I sometimes struggle to understand.

Ramadhan is just starting and there was an exhibition of photos from around the world. This remarkable picture of Mecca is no doubt as close as I will ever get to the real place!

But I have to acknowledge that along with a bunch of other points of contention, I find the way women are viewed and treated in Islam really confronting, and I’ve had a few experiences while here that have only added to my unease. I can’t imagine finding hope in a faith that seems to view me as less than simply because of my gender.

And, yes, I’m aware that some people think members of my own faith have not always treated women well. But I would vehemently state that that is not the gospel, and I am reminded again how important it is for the church to respond to gender issues well. In the end, I am grateful that my faith is not in a system of beliefs but in a person. I will continue to wrestle with how following Jesus works out in practice, particularly in diverse contexts such as this, but I am continually grateful for His complete acceptance of me, and His abiding presence with me.

Thinking Out Loud …

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