Bulgarian Omen

The ancient Romans believed that the eagle was a messenger of the gods -- eagle sightings and behavior were therefore considered omens. At Nessebar, Bulgaria, on the Black Sea, I encountered a similar omen. This one was delivered by a seagull. Good, bad? One of our Bulgarian hosts noted that it was a sign of good luck, mentioning something about his brother's marriage. I took it as strong direction to buy a new shirt.

Bulgarian Rail

I have always had an affinity for travel by rail. Particularly in Europe. It's regular and the schedule is generally robust. Going from one place to another is calculated and there is time to sight see, relax, read. Or whatever. And it is generally inexpensive. Perhaps there is a degree of nostalgia attached. Grand tour. Or blame Hollywood.

The Orient Express.

Unfortunately, the original, running from Paris to Istanbul is long gone. Just imagine the possibilities of such a trip. And with the Channel Tunnel open, one could begin in London, train across to Paris. Eat, shop, see, converse. Then to points east -- Istanbul. Explore, discover. Return. There is a current Orient, but it runs overnight from Strasbourg to Vienna. Only. The original Orient was certainly replaced by more efficient commercial air. That said, the current European rail system is an excellent way to go from one destination to another. Anywhere.

For me, traveling by rail in the former Warsaw Pact had a special appeal. I had ridden the underground rail system in West Berlin which went unencumbered into the Eastern Sector. Miss your stop and you're now in a James Bond movie. Focus. My papers were in order. I got off at my appointed stop, survived. All told, it worked nicely.

Bulgaria was no exception.

These two engines or tanks, from different generations, are sitting in the rail yard at the Plovdiv Depot.

This is the routine Sofia-Plovdiv service, arriving in Plovdiv.

This is the Sofia-Slanchev Bryag (Sunny Beach Resort) Express which transits Plovdiv and Bourgas, preparing to depart the main Sophia Rail Station.

It is a shame that rail service in the United States is not as common or reliable. Or as cheap. Or that our lifestyle does not accommodate such a transportation system.
At what price?

Seville's Holy Week

Witnessing a Spanish festival for the first time is a most unique experience, as most festival elements and events are unfamiliar. Seville's Holy Week -- given the hooded processions of Catholic brotherhoods, Nazarenos -- was no different.

Semana Santa en Sevilla is one of Spain's largest religious events. Conducted during the week between Palm Sunday and Easter, it features daily processions by brotherhoods parading pasos -- floats featuring sculptured scenes of Jesus Christ during distinct phases of his death and resurrection; the other being a float with a grieving Virgin Mary. Many are considered masterful works of art and are housed in nearby churches.

Semana Santa en Sevilla is one of Spain's largest religious events. Conducted during the week between Palm Sunday and Easter, it features daily processions by brotherhoods parading pasos -- floats featuring sculptured scenes of Jesus Christ during distinct phases of his death and resurrection; the other being a float with a grieving Virgin Mary. Many are considered centuries-old masterful works of art and are housed throughout the year in neighborhood churches. Most brotherhoods carry two floats, a few carry three. The processions are organized and conducted by over 50 religious fraternities (some dating back to the 14th century) and the processional itinerary is scheduled by a Supreme Council of Brotherhoods. During the processions, members dressed in hooded penitential robes, precede the pasos, with an occasional brass band accompanying the march. The processions work along the shortest route from their home church to the Cathedral of Seville -- routes decreed since the 17th century by the processions' rule of ordinances. They then return to their points of origin, some taking over 12 hours.

If you're in need of a touring tip, the first part of Seville's Holy Week is not as crowded for procession viewing and is more relaxed. Towards the end of the week as many as a million spectators crowd Seville's streets. The climax of the week is Thursday night when the most popular processions set out to arrive at the cathedral on the dawn of Good Friday.

I still find myself comparing this tradition with some darker elements of America's past -- and the influence and context of signs and symbols, proliferating one's culture. Comparing American and Spanish cultures, the hooded parading participant signifies a very different role and purpose -- penitence not malfeasance. In this case, the shame is on us.

Graffiti, Seville

Ancient Street, Pompeii

Although Pompeii is a ruined and partially buried Roman city, accidentally rediscovered in 1748 and now excavated, there is no doubt its streets are frozen in time -- since 24 August 79 AD. 1900-plus years later, we can contemplate Roman road construction, engineering.

I was initially impressed by the street scape of Pompeii as not being much different than those one may encounter throughout European centrums today -- the stone and cobblestone workmanship of the streets.

The oddity was wheel grooves, an obviously indicator Pompeii's streets were adequately accommodating its robust wheeled traffic. These street were constructed in a way to elevate foot traffic above the road's surface for water runoff, perhaps even sewage. Roman architects and engineers managed water and sewage quite well, though not necessarily in the open, in the streets. There are many examples of drainage pipes beneath the surface, some still operational. Not only is the water distribution system in Pompeii impressive, it reveals a great degree of forethought and urban planning.

Could the strength of the Roman Empire, at least in part, be borne of its engineering prowess?

Unfortunately, as all ancient excavations experience, renewed exposure to the elements hastens deterioration. In tight financial times, seeking funds to protect these sites is a low priority. Thus, the curious observer should visit sooner rather than later.

Spandau Prison

I witnessed Spandau Prison, at the time located in West Berlin, during a helicopter tour of the city in 1986. Rudolf Hess was the lone prisoner and unbeknownst to me or anyone else at the time, he had a year to live -- and the demise of the prison would soon follow as well.

After his death, Spandau Prison was demolished as a means to prevent it from becoming a Neo-Nazi shrine. But the West Germans did not stop there. To further ensure its erasure, the site was made into a parking facility and a shopping center, and all materials from the demolished prison were ground to powder and dispersed into the North Sea.

I'm a bit sad -- it was a magnificent structure, even as a prison. Built in 1876, it initially served as a military detention center and later housed civilian inmates. After the Second World War, it was administered by the Allies to house Nazi war criminals after the Nuremberg Trials -- the seven which had escaped the death penalty.

Ultimately, Spandau Prison itself could not escape its association with its Nazi past. Erased.

Zeughaus

Graz. If this name sounds familiar, you must either have visited Austria’s second largest city or you know that Arnold Schwarzenegger is one of Graz’s more famous sons. Or perhaps you may recall that its football stadium was once named after him. Once. That was until the city's assembly condemned the California governor's refusal to grant clemency and halt the execution of a convicted murderer. Literally overnight, they had the large letters spelling his name pulled from the arena. Capital punishment is illegal in Austria. Am I sensing a degree of passion -- or testosterone? Governor Schwarzenegger subsequently returned by post the honorary ring the city had presented to him. Now, now.

For many other and better reasons, Graz is unique. Its old town is one of the best-preserved city centers in Europe -- it somehow avoided the mass destruction of Allied bombing raids during the Second World War. This is most fortunate since Graz had been the resident city of the younger Austrian line of the Habsburgs, beginning in the 14th century. They lived in Schloßberg castle and from there ruled Styria, Carinthia, portions of Italy and Slovenia. Later, Italian Renaissance artists and architects contributed to the city's planning and design. Located between Italy, the Balkan States, with Central Europe to the north, Graz over time absorbed various influences from these neighboring areas -- from Gothic to Modern.

Graz is situated in the Austrian federal state of Styria (Steiermark). The older German interpretation of the word mark literally refers to an area of land utilized as a defensive frontier. In these areas the local population was trained to organize and fight against invaders. Given its location, Graz was often assaulted -- by the Hungarians (1481) and the Ottoman Turks (1529, 1532). Unsuccessfully, mind you. In fact, its fortress was one of only two fortifications in the region which never fell to the Turks. The city also withstood two occupations by Napoleon's army (1797, 1809). Ironically, though the Austrian forces within Schloßberg were outnumbered and repelled numerous attacks by the French, their emperor, Francis I, ordered their surrender after Napoleon overwhelmed Vienna. Unfortunately, the Treaty of Schönbrunn (1809) imposed harsh terms on Austria, to include the destruction of Vienna’s and Graz’s fortifications. Schloßberg was demolished; though its Uhrturm clock tower was spared by ransom.

Naturally then, Graz is home to the region's provincial armory, the Landeszeughaus. The strategic importance of Graz required its armory to be a vital arsenal for the Habsburg Empire on its south-eastern flank. Completed in 1645, its Baroque entrance is guarded by Mars (god of war) and Minerva (goddess of war). The Landeszeughaus now houses an impressive collection of pikes, pistols, rifles, swords, coats of mail, and various forms of armor.

When I wandered through the Landeszeughaus, exploring the world's largest historical collection of Baroque weaponry, I literally stepped back in time. The armory consists of five floors, with different types of military hardware arranged by historical period. I was struck by the armory’s pristine state of preparedness -- it was as if it was still standing ready to outfit an entire medieval militia, mustering to oppose an imminent invasion. I also noticed that most of the armor appeared to have small battle scars or dents. A curator pointed out that they were not marks left by conflict, but were “tests” to insure the proper strength of the metal. Aha -- medieval armor making was an exacting life or death craft.

There are certain situations in which we must erase all doubt.

The Landeszeughaus also has a few of the last surviving sets of horse body armor. I was captivated. I had to touch, feel -- with the requisite protective gloves on, of course. But I could not stop there. Blades, swords. Several of the swords I handled, to include a long two-handed sword, or Zweihänder, were amazingly light to wield. The Zweihänder was apparently used by specialized swordsmen to reach beyond the front line spears, hewing through the difficult barriers which spearmen and pikemen presented. My mind drifted into visions of charging brigades, brandished swords, flanking cavalry -- the chaos of swift deadly thrusts, slices, cuts.

Brutal. Blood, sweat and tears.

I'm pleased that we've seemingly progressed. But I can't help but wonder if we've become oblivious to the cost of employing lethal force -- even in defense. Penetrating and blunt force trauma. Devastation -- pestilence occupies the ensuing void. Mortal combat has always been horrific. History becomes legend, then myth -- and we forget. But what if we're ignorant of history in the first place?

The Landeszeughaus is history.

Thai Street Food

Wander Bangkok's streets and you'll experience many things. A full range of sights, sounds, smells. Some rather exotic. Some quite organic. And most sidewalks are populated with vendors peddling a range of foods.

Hey, I've got an idea, let's take time for a quick snack. But hang on here for just a sec. I see insects, spiders, bugs. Everywhere.

Yes, you read correctly. As food. Thais seemingly have developed quite a taste for bugs. I could see what appeared to be steamed or fried water scorpions, diving beetles. Big ones. Grasshoppers, cicadas, crickets. Spiders, scorpions. Rather large larva. Young beetles, I presume. Seasoned. Some with garlic. Accompanied by sticky rice or fried rice. Garnished. No, not ant eggs. Yes. Ala carte. Or, in rice, mixed with other stuff. Perfect. Delicacies. Rich in protein, calories, vitamins and minerals.

I'd say grasshopper tastes like roasted peanut.

First Time Bangkok

There are a whole bunch of people in Bangkok. Locals and tourists. Without doubt, it is Asia’s dominant tourist hot-spot. And by sheer numbers, it must be in the top tier of the world’s most visited destinations. It is also a large air hub, meaning that it’s the region's major tourist gateway. I spent a few days there as a transient while I worked my visa to Vietnam -- a common practice.

Allow me to briefly mention the negatives, for they’re unavoidable. Bangkok’s reputation is famously soiled by its seedier side, even though prostitution is technically illegal there. Rocker Billy Idol’s three-week, $250,000 excursion into hedonism dramatically ended with his forced ejection from Bangkok, carried out by the Thai Army. Addicted to lust, he had refused to vacate his hotel penthouse at the end of his reservation. The good news is that even in Bangkok, there are limits. The other bad news is that Bangkok’s traffic is horrendous. Air and water pollution are major issues -- the water table has also been depleted. Droughts are common. Filth.

Yet, Bangkok is an alluring paradox. It’s perhaps the Orient's most cosmopolitan city; but it seemingly has preserved its cultural heritage. Its urban pace is somewhat relaxed, despite its 20 million-plus population and congested traffic. Religion does not appear to have an influential role in the capital; but one can observe monks walking neighborhoods, collecting alms. I did. And Buddhist temples are scattered throughout the city.

Although this was my first brief introduction to Thai culture, I quickly learned that for Thais, the head is sacred and the foot is foul. Don't point with your foot. Don’t ever step over a person or food. I was advised to never touch anyone on the head, even a child; do not pat people on the back or shoulders; always give up your seat on a bus or train to a monk who is standing; never walk in front of praying Thais in a temple; and beckoning is done with the palm down, fingers waved toward the body. Okay, what else? Are such stark cultural differences captivating?

I read Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha (1922) and Steppenwolf (1927) in school. Hesse’s literary works reveal his fascination with India, Buddhism and an individual's search for spirituality outside of society. Gautama Siddhartha (563-483 BC), The Buddha or the Awakened One, certainly had influenced Hesse's life and writings. As achieving Nirvana is esoteric, cloistered or removed, I expected to find Buddha's influence on Thai culture to be relatively subtle. Thailand has traditionally been characterized by its tolerance for alien religions. I'd expect it to be there, but where? Seek and find. Was this my academic preparation for Bangkok?

What is interesting is that Thailand's religious diversity is literally nonexistent. Roughly 95 percent of the population observes the oldest surviving form of Buddhism (Theravāda, founded in India). The remaining four percent of the population is Muslim, with a fractional mix of other religions, to include Christianity. Therefore, Buddhism permeates Thai culture and its temples are key social and educational institutions -- functioning as school, hospital, dispensary, hostelry, employment and community center. Although there were tourists present, the temples I visited were alive with various locally-oriented activities. Its traditionally high literacy rate, particularly before universal education, was obviously due to temple education.

Adherents to the Theravāda school consider themselves followers of the form closest to Buddhism as it was originally practiced. The spiritual liberation of the individual is its primary focus. Pursuit of the law of Karma. Individuals are considered responsible for their own actions and destiny -- everyone has a specific place. Undertake meritorious acts, avoid those which earn demerits. Cause and effect. Perform this role with a minimum of fuss and hassle. Failure to do so involves a loss of personal dignity -- loss of face. Thais often employ the phrase "never mind or no worries" (mâi pen rai), as a reminder not to risk opposing that which should not be opposed. Find your place, stay there, perform. Lock step.

At some point in their lives, Thai males are expected to train as Buddhist monks. It is a prerequisite for many leadership positions within Thai communities. Likewise, temporary ordination is the norm. The Thai government even allows its civil servants to take fully paid leave to train as monks for three months. And most do at some point -- whether it is for a single rainy season (phansa in Thai) or a few years. During the annual rains, all monks fore go travel and cloister in monasteries. And after this period, most young monks return to lay life, marry and begin families. Young Thai men who reach monastic ordination are viewed as more suitable marriage partners. As a matter of fact, those ordained are referred to as "cooked;" the un-ordained are called "raw." It is as if social position is the result of nurtured karma, not personal achievement. Learn, practice. Here, Siddharthas abound.

Perhaps I had discovered a parallel irresistibility to this place, in the tradition of Hesse -- hopefully for the right reasons. Though I had a basic academic understanding of Buddhism, I think that I had stumbled upon a more practical Buddha. Buddhism's strength in Thailand is linked to the fact that practically all Thai families have at least one ordained male member; its popular form also incorporates elements of Brahmanism, animism, and ancestor worship. What is learned outside of society is carefully integrated within society.

I have to remind myself often that the real lessons in life happen outside the classroom. Academia is static and sterile.

Oh, and the shopping was good.

B-52 Lake, Hanoi

I have recurring visions of the few weeks I spent in Vietnam a few years ago. One is of an an ordinary Hanoi neighborhood, in which there is a small pond. In this pond rest the remnants of a B-52D downed on December 19, 1972. Callsign, Rose 1.

Operation Linebacker II, conducted over 11 days in December 1972 against Communist targets in North Vietnam, was the largest aerial bombardment conducted by the United States Air Force since the end of the Second World War. The entire crew of Rose 1 survived the shootdown and were confined in the infamous Hanoi Hilton (Hoa Lo Prison). They were repatriated. Rose 1 remains -- silent, rusting.

There is little doubt war is one man's of the most destructive activities -- if not the most destructive. Curious, I had to query a willing local on his or her view of America, the belligerent. As I was bartering with a local merchant, his English was good and he seemed more than willing to chat. So I asked him what he thought of Americans. "I do not like America but I like your money."

We tried to change the course of Vietnamese politics with military force, ignoring a thousand years of history and the failure of French colonialism. At what cost? As I drifted through Hanoi's streets, markets, I began to believe it will be market economics, as opposed to military force, that will define both Vietnam's and America's futures.