a dead sea creature I did see and other thoughts

When I got back to Canada from the Middle East, I stopped over in Toronto to visit with my brother and his family. One day, we visited the ROM (the Royal Ontario Museum). The rocks and minerals gallery was spectacular. This stone looks like a moose dressed in regalia and reminds me of woodlands-style First Nations art.


A large flat shiny stone of circles from Vaasa, Finland was also on display...or maybe the petrified brains of Finlanders in stone?..or is that the brains of petrified Finlanders in stone?


This dead sea creature was in a glass case elsewhere in the ROM.


I went to check out the Middle Eastern section. I have to say, while there were a few interesting pieces (like this ancient female fertility figurine from Syria), overall, the Middle Eastern section was poor. Having just come back from the ME, and having gone to some amazing places, such as Baalbek and Jbeil/Byblos, never mind just seeing the ancient and beautiful of the everyday, in no way does the ROM's version of the ME's antiquities even begin to capture a pot shard of its dazzling depth. I was very disappointed. While the ROM does exhibit ancient Egypt and the mummies of people and cats and the mirrors and sacred eyes and the special Book of the Dead exhibit were interesting, is ancient Egypt the sum total of the ancient ME?


This piece of a wall from ancient Iraq caught my eye. It's one of the 120 lions that used to line the street in ancient Babylon, part of the Processional Way of the Ishtar gate built by Nebuchadnezzar in 575 bce. The lion represented the goddess Ishtar.

I often wonder how things end up in western museums. I especially wondered that when I went through the Ulster Museum in Belfast a few years back. What paths have they taken? And what values guide the transfer? How, for example, did the Ishtar gate of ancient Iraq end up in Berlin Germany? Well, "European archaeologists carted away the Ishtar Gate, the city’s symbol, [which is] now in Berlin’s Pergamon Museum. The Louvre in Paris got the giant stone slab on which King Hammurabi’s 4,000-year-old code of law was written." Iraq had to build a replica of the Ishtar gate. So, you won't find the real thing in Iraq, you have to go to Germany to see it. Or the lion in Toronto.

It's good to hear that some places, like the Netherlands, are returning stolen artifacts. Prior to its occupation and killing fields, Iraq had been seeking the return of the Ishtar gate. I wonder if that is still ongoing?

Speaking of stolen artifacts, security was tight to get into the ROM that Sunday we went there. I wasn't expecting to be searched going into a museum. People were being checked at the front doors before entering. I wondered, why did security search through my purse? When I went up to pay my admission, I got my answer. I was asked if I also wanted to pay (extra) to see the Dead Sea Scrolls exhibit. No, I said, I do not.


Dead Sea Scrolls Protest
CAIA, Women in Solidarity with Palestine and others come together to protest the Royal Ontario Museum's display of the Dead Sea Scrolls stolen from Palestine by the Israeli Antiquity Authorities

necklaces and a scarf

I have a story about each of the necklaces I am wearing, as well as the scarf, but those stories will have to wait until I get back home in July. Now I understand why traditionally in many oral cultures, including the Finnish tradition, that stories were told in the winter. Too busy in summer!

Citadel in Tripoli

first built in 645 C.E.

the farthest East I have been

We arrived in Bahrain earlier this week. We left Beirut Airport, flying with Bahrain Airlines, first over Jordan and then Saudi Arabia. If we have time when we get back to Lebanon, we might take a bus trip to Damascus, Syria. Or, if my relatives insist, as they have, it will have to be a car trip. We'll see how much we can fit in; I'm not to go to Byblos or Baalbek until my sister-in-law arrives in Lebanon. Wait, she said. As my husband and I flew across the skies over the desert, looking down out the plane window was like seeing through a veil of sand. Just a hint of the ever present sand/dust that hangs sometimes imperceptibly and other times quite visibly in the air. Sunglasses are a good idea for morning walks. It does not rain now here in Bahrain so the sand dust hangs around.

Once out of the air conditioning of Manama Airport, I knew I was going to need a few days to adjust to the heat. Oh, my. Sounds like a cliche, but it's oh so true: like walking into an oven. Oh, my. I think I said that to myself 20x before entering the refreshing air conditioning of my sister-in-law's Jeep. I hate air conditioning--but not here.

Of course, the heat is unbearable only for a northerner like me, whose genes for millenia have been programmed to survive the cold. Heat? What I have come to know as hot is the next person's day to put on their wool toque and sweater. I'm sure the legions of Indian workers that fill Manama find what I would call oppressive heat, quite lovely. Milder than India. Indeed, from out the window, I noticed an Indian man walking, wearing a warm scarf wrapped around his neck--in 40 plus temperature. Without a bead of sweat to give away any discomfort. All the women encased in black abayas and hijabs and at time niqab don't betray any discomfort with the heat, either. And the traffic and cars, which I find constant and congested, the Indian workers I'm sure would find a relief from what they left behind in India. So, it is all relative. My congestion, another person's ease. My difficult heat wave, another person's pleasant day. My dilemma of what to wear to stay cool, not a dilemma.

I spent the first 2 days inside, sitting on the couch, feeling slightly queasy, moving more slowly, and falling asleep like a stone way before my bed time, then waking up late in the morning, oversleeping, feeling groggy and bleary. Such is my northern embodiment.

Yesterday, however--thankfully--I perked up, came back to my "real self" and with my husband and his sister, went to the beach.

Taynal Mosque

one of the gates to the Taynal Mosque

the city of Tripoli outside the gates of the Mosque

by the gate, before you enter

lamp on the way to the front doors, where the dead bodies are prayed over.

I have a story about entering through the doors of the Mosque, which I will tell you later.