Day 19 From the Time of Christ
SYNOPSIS: I traveled to a town north of Damascus to visit two ancient monasteries which go back to the first century A.D. and I describe my experience at a Syrian Hamam. Where Aramaic is still spoken. How often will you have the Lord’s Prayer said for you in Aramaic?! Even though I am not Christian, I was touched when the tour guide of St. Sarke’s monastery at Maalula offered to recite the Lord’s Prayer for me in Aramaic. Let’s just say I didn’t understand a word but it sounded different than the Arabic that is spoken all around me of which I also don’t understand a word, except habibi . She would not allow photography or recordings though… I snatched some pictures behind her back but I could not outsmart her on the voice part, so you have to take my word for it.Maalula is noted for the fact that it has an ancient Christian community going back to the century of Christ, and that it is one of the few places that kept the Aramaic language alive. After all, this is the larger area of the stories in the New Testament. As Corey pointed out in her request for a reenactment of the conversion from Saul to Paul, he had been on his way to Damascus and there is a famous church here dedicated to him which I still need to visit. This is quite humbling.I visited two churches today. One, the convent of St. Takla, a woman who upon hearing the word of Christ adopted chastity and ticked off her fiancée and his mother among others. Many legends of persecution, almost death and miraculous rescue surround her life. She finally made it as far as Maalula where she was cornered against the mountains around the year 45 A.D. A stroke of lightening opened up a gorge for her to escape and closed it behind her to prevent her enemies from following. From then on she is reported to have lived in a nearby cave until her death and then was entombed in the mountains above the monastery. The monastery sprung up in her honor later, around the 9th Century, if I understood my guide correctly.The monastery is also an orphanage. 17 sisters and 26 orphans live in the compound. Sister Hagia lead me through the chapel and explained what she could. A beautiful 9th century octagonal church has in the 1990’s been painted top to bottom by some Greek artists depicting scenes from the life of Christ and Mary adopted from Byzantine mosaics. Before I say anything bad I will say that the plain old church would have been enough for me. But there it was. Sister Hagia would perforate her explanations every couple of sentences by inserting “Nice, isn’t it, sister Elisabeth?” I had to agree to please her.Hagia had a calling from God when she was 5 years old, she told me. Her father beat her and would not let her go until she was 19 and able to escape to the monastery on her own. She has been there ever since. She emphatically pointed out to me that nobody and nothing could stop her from being with Christ. I appreciated the sincerity of her faith and the mission of the sisters to raise orphans. And I donated generously to their cause.Then I hiked through the St. Takla gorge. Anyone who has been in Petra has to be reminded of the famous Siq which is much bigger than this split in the rocks, but based on the same geological principle. For those of you who are more familiar with Indiana Jones – picture him on his horse racing through that narrow opening in the cliffs towards the shrine in which he suspected the Holy Grail and you will be with me. Except that I did not have a horse and had to maneuver around a lot of water that came down the gorge. This is the holy spring St. Takla manifested when she was thirsty. It is supposed to have healing qualities. I did not want to risk drinking from it.Hiking up to the top of the hill opens up a gorgeous view into the country side. Maalula is a picturesque town sprawling up the hill on two sides of a valley. They must have heard me complain yesterday. Some of the houses have plaster on the walls that is actually painted a light blue. Only one of ten or so, but it really gives the town a different feel from the endless gray elsewhere.St. Sarjios/Sarkes’ monastery is up on the hill and its history really blew my mind. That church claims to be – and who can dispute it – from or before 325 AD. That is only 12 years after the famous edict of Milan by Constantine, which made churches above ground even possible. Until then, Christians had to hide in catacombs. And this one has been in continuous use ever since! Not like St. Peters, which Constantine started around 313 and which has been torn down, rebuilt, expanded and changed forever.For proof they cite carbon dating of some of the wood used in their church as well as the particular shape of the altar they have. Instead of the rectangular flat-surfaced altar that became mandatory after the first church council of Nicaea, they have a ¾ oval shaped, indented altar. It still has a grove to drain blood as was customary for pagan altars. In this one, the hole in the middle needed for pagan altars was lacking since there was no animal slaughter in a Christian church but otherwise it adopted the pagan shape. This is to say that no prototype for Christian altars had yet been established, which is taken as the second proof for its age. Sarkes, by the way was a Roman general who converted and who died as a martyr. I had not heard of him before. Very impressive and worth a trip. This church should be in the Guinness book, or does anyone know of any other church this old?Transportation was easy and cheap. I took a taxi for a dollar to a real bus station again – the Syrians call bus hubs “garages”. There the minibuses line up and go regularly to predetermined destinations. My ride was about $0.80. Easy, quick and the usual… smoky. On the way back we had four kids in the bus and two guys just had to smoke nonetheless. Shame on them.I did not have time to mention, that yesterday after my dusty walk through town, I went to a Hamam, a bath house! Women have 3 days a week from 1-5 PM when they are allowed in the baths. The rest is male time. I had nobody to go with and took a chance – what can go wrong? And indeed, the bath was full of women working there who were eager to do any of the services I needed. Of course, I expected to be overcharged and I did. But for $10 I got my hair ripped and pulled with soap (not shampoo and conditioner which I usually use) and later dried with a hair blower (my hair has not seen one of those in 30 years) – it looks and feels positively awful now! I got scrubbed down by a woman at lightning speed and so rough that I had to bite my tongue not to cry in pain. I then got “massaged” for three minutes by another woman who must not have ever heard of a massage. She banged down on my back with the sides of her hands and squeezed my shoulders a few times and when I thought she might get started, she was finished! But I had a good time in the sauna and there got covered by a fellow bather with some mud she had left over. I realized that the local women come in pairs and do these scrub downs, etc. for each other. Saves money and is much more enjoyable, I bet. But I was clean and had a good sauna. Good enough for starters. Nothing will ever live up to a Turkish bath I experienced in Istanbul years ago. I was all alone in the bath and the bath attendant spoiled me for 1.5 hours with finger and foot massages, loving care and tenderness. She will forever be my measure of a good hamam experience. When I was done with this rather rough treatment ready to relax and to have some tea, what was I thinking? All the other women sat around smoking, of course! So I did not stay for too long.In the lounge I met two young Russians girls who are doing Syria in four days by taxi. Wow. I am so very, very grateful that I am allowed to travel, experience, absorb and digest in good time. It is the greatest gift I have been given in a long time and it allows me to share it all with you.Tonight I am off to meet Mohamed, the suitor's aunt. You will hear more about that tomorrow.Also, I need some fashion advise: I realize that I need to buy a tight-fitting hijab so I won't have to deal with a scarf that falls off of me as soon as I bend or have to deal with my camera, or my dangling reading glasses... So I included a picture from the souq.Good night.