29 May 2009

Act 8 | Switzerland

With the move from Rome to Spiez I made the transition into Phase II of my journey, that being the phase in which I spend time with old friends (who I haven't seen for years because they went to live on the far side of the globe for a variety of dubious reasons) in their new habitats.





If ever there were a country that demanded more pictures and less words in a travel report, it be Switzerland. (But alas, this is my travel report and I'm simply not wired to deliver a report with less words).




My time in Switzerland was spent living the life a simply farm boy, my duties included:
a) blasting scum off paths with pressurised water;
b) pulling weeds from paths and overgrown gardens (veggie or otherwise);
c) and fencing in farm animals.

It was a lot of dirty work (especially after rain when proper gardening footwear became more important) …


… but I was well rewarded anytime I remembered to lift my eyes from the mess beneath me and absorb the spectacular views that surrounded the property.



Those cows don't know how lucky they are.


The second best thing about volunteering in Switzerland was finally having a reason to use utilities in my new leatherman other than the corkscrew & bottle top opener.



In return for my muscle power I was given a room in the guesthouse – which is called ‘the Schlössli’ which means ‘little castle’ - and food.




I was thankful for a comfortable bed in my own room as I was very very tired from the non-stop sight seeing I had engaged in over the previous couple of weeks. (On my first night there, after a half day of work, I crawled into bed with some things to read and promptly fell asleep before 7pm and the end of the first paragraph.)




The property is run as a guesthouse by a small community of Christians.


At first I thought the guesthouse also took in orphaned children – one child in particular didn’t seem to have eaten for a long time, nor did she seem accustomed to wearing clothes.


I was later to discover that the young girl was actually Darren & Lizzi’s first born, Ana.


Darren is my old partner in prayer and friend who moved to Switzerland after falling in love with Lizzi on a whirlwind visit. (He is pictured above with the latest addition to the Hight family, Joachin, who was born just weeks before my arrival.)


The best thing about my time in Switzerland was spending time with Darren and his family, and being able to help him get the place ready for a new season of travellers (he is the acting manager the property).


Due to a confusion of Sundays, the Hight family and I ended up at the wrong church on a Sunday morning, which gifted us the time we needed to ascend a local mountain and have lunch at a Swiss Alp.


A Swiss Alp is a small hut in which cheese makers live while tending their cows over the summer months in order to make ‘alp cheese’. (It is Darren and Lizzi’s dream to live in an Alp with all their farm animals.)





The small community that is employed to run the guesthouse practice daily disciplines together which gives the work a wonderful rhythm:
The day begins with a bible reading and prayer together;


They share morning (and afternoon) tea breaks with one another;


I got chocolate at my first morning tea (and at every subsequent tea break) and cheese at my first lunch. (Just before leaving Greece, I learned from my Nan that I have Northern Italian & Southern Swiss blood on my mothers side of the family, which was comforting to know, as I now have a solid explanation for my love of cheese and chocolate (and the chain letters I've been receiving from the Mafia for many years now).)


Lunch is the major meal of the day for Swiss people and at the property it is always eaten together around a common table. (They take turns in preparing the food.)


Sometimes lunch is outside, and sometimes lunch is inside; members of the community take turns in cooking.


The working day is ended in communal prayer.



The weirdest encounter of my time in Switzerland occurred every time I observed Darren communicating in all the old Darren ways while directing the community in a completely different language.



Exploring the territory around the guesthouse outside of work hours proved time and again that Switzerland is beautiful every which way you stroll.









I was not the only volunteer in the ‘hood during my two week stay, there was also:

Stephanie from Germany;


and Milo & Nancy from Virginia.




Having grown tired (& quite a bit jealous) of working in such idyllic settings, the American couple and I organised a breakout one Saturday.


We headed for Mexico, which is called ‘France’ in these parts, and (funnily enough) wound up in the tiny hometown of their ancestors.


We then passed through Luis Pasteur’s old stomping ground before a series of wrong turns landed us back on the farm.



I had my first really positive experience with a chick since beginning my travels in Switzerland – well actually, two chicks – both of the red tailed variety; Both were fleeing the nest before they could fly, as such, I found them ground out beneath the eves of the little castle.


After failing to feed them by hand I put them in a cage - to safeguard them from the ground strikes of cats/foxes and air strikes from kites - with bars large enough for the parents to feed them through the frame.


After a couple of days of working with (mother) nature rather then trying to replace her, I got to release the birds and see one of them successfully fly onto a fence where the mother was able to feed it without needing to work through the bamboo bars any longer.


The moment was captured on camera (albeit a bit of a blur) and can be seeen above. It was really exciting, these ventures so rarely work out the way you plan and hope (on that note, let's not talk about the second chick).

18 May 2009

Act 7 | Italy :: Rome


I wanted to visit Rome for at least a couple of reasons: 1) the biblical record leaves Paul imprisoned in Rome (& is therefore a natural end-point for a pilgrimage such as my own); and 2) I wanted to see 'Catholicism Central' for myself.


I reckon being a christian and failing to have any appreciation for the Catholic Church is really not much different to despising the collective womb of your ancestors.



Here are a handful of observations from the streets of Rome:
Roman beggars are more humble (and willing to respect your personal space) than beggars elsewhere;


Romans dress better for weddings;


Roman gelati doesn't lie - all the flavours taste exactly like they say they will;


Cheap Italian wine is way better than cheap New Zealand wine (and can be used to make new friends, who might even offer to cook you dinner);


Rome is a romantic city, especially by the river, and especially at night, which kinda sucks if you're travelling alone;


(Insert interesting female here!)



There are artefacts from the Roman empire every which way you wander.


The Colosseum is colossal. (It makes me wonder how many of our stadiums will still be standing, and looking good, in the year 4000.)



On my right (in the photo above) is the Arch of Constantine, built early in the 4th Century CE to commemorate the Battle of Milvian Bridge, which Constantine won after receiving a vision of a Christian symbol the night before (?). (This event set the wheels in motion that eventually led to the Roman empire embracing the Christian faith, which forever changed the face of the Church, for better and for worse.)



Rome is another 'city within a city' - old in new - which hosts a large number of incredible church buildings; They are free to enter and awesome in scope. (This city must be right up there with Adelaide when competing for the ultimate ‘city of churches’ title.)


Mamertine Prison


This little chapel really surprised me, I wasn't (and still am not entirely) convinced that it really is the place that the Apostle Paul and Peter were held in before being martyred by the Emperor, but there is a real tangible presence that smacks you in the face the moment you step into the small cell beneath the chapel floor.



The Pantheon




Basilica di San Clemente

They didn't allow photographs to be taken in this building, but it really is 'a must see' because it is three churches build on top of one another: the first was a simple house church from the earliest days of Christian faith in Rome; the second was built in the 4th Century when Rome was more favourably disposed to the faith (it hosted a number of important church synods during its lifetime; the third was built in the 12th Century because the former church was seriously damaged when the city was sacked by the Normans. (It's 'the Russian doll' of the Roman pilgrim churches.)


San Giovanni in Laterano (Basilica of St_ John Lateran)





Santa Maria Maggiore (Saint Mary Major)



Santa Prassede


While gazing at the truly beautiful 'Madonna & Child' mosaic above, I learned to look past the inappropriate deification of the mother to see instead the incredible mystery of the incarnated child (God adopting human form), which will help me to further enjoy all such images in the future.


Santa Croce in Gerusalemme (Holy Cross in Jerusalem)

This church has some unbelievable holy relics, including a piece of the board hung above Jesus head when he was crucified, and a bone from the finger of doubting Thomas (that is understood to have been placed in the wounds of the resurrected saviour. (These relics are ornately mounted in the picture below.)


I've decided that relics, even if not the genuine articles, are cool because they remind us that Jesus lived & died and was resurrected in real space & time, and interacted with the common things in life, such as wood, nails and people.


Basilica of Saint Paul Outside the Walls




The pilgrimage through Europe was beneficial if for no other reason than I made my peace with the Apostle Paul (in a prayerful moment in the church built around his grave after reading the letter he sent to Church of Rome); Let it be known, Paul and I are tight again.


(Contrary to what you have probably been believing (based on my past posts) I've struggled to like Paul for more than a few years now; But retracing his missionary steps has helped me to see him as someone truly worthy of admiration. He was a man with an irrepressible will to please his Maker and spread the gracious love of God abroad. Re-reading his letters, helped me to see that my real beef is with those who have (in recent history) interpreted his work in reductionist fashion and thereby constructed a form of Christianity that is according distorted and destructive. I'm talking about the form of Christianity that holds that you just need to believe with your mind that you're a sinner, that Jesus is God, then wait around for the world to end and heaven to kick off, in order to be considered a true follower of Jesus. Looking at Paul's work again, I can see that he understood that there is both much mystery and mysticism in Christian faith a proper, and that we much match correcting thinking with the kind of correcting acting that promotes the cause of justice in our lifetime & locality, creating the kind of world that God always intended this place to be.)


St_ Peter's Basilica (Vatican City)



I attended a Sunday morning mass in the most revered church in all Catholicism, which landed me on the preferable side of the fence that separated the worshippers ('in the house') from the spectators. (No, I didn't 'risk' taking communion as a non-catholic when given the opportunity.)





Nearly all the churches are free to enter, some have a suggested donation amount (like the toilets in the photo below, these toilets also helpfully had instructions for what to do if you didn't want to pay for the privilege posted on the roof above the sign requesting donations), most churches didn't expect anything more than a meditative and respectful disposition.


I wasn't keen to add to the wealth of the catholic church with my few coins, not even to power up one of their new fan dangle electric candles.



The switch from wax candles to electronic candles at many of their alters fascinated me, and I still don't know what to think about it all: Partly because I don't know which is really more eco-friendly (power-efficient/carbon footprint diminishing), but more so because it offends my sense of authenticity, beauty, and symbolic ritual. (The temporary lifespan of a candle, which is consumed by the flickering fire, as we offer our prayers up to a God who instructs us to 'cast all our anxieties upon Him,' seems so much more satisfying and 'real' than the modern plastic & steel representation.)



The electric candles are certainly less mess (and are therefore probably no more than a move prompted by ugly pragmatics).



I got to exchanged waves with the Pope (top window second in from the right in the photo below) while in town, who was also just in from a trip through the holy lands. (Unfortunately a misunderstanding between his people and my own prevented us from exchanging travel tales over a beer like we had planned.)




My final day in Rome, and in a sense, on pilgrimage, was spent in the Vatican Museum.



It was disappointing to see the masses, who only had eyes for the Sistine Chapel, rushing past Jesus in great works of art.




One of the things I enjoyed most about being in the Vatican Museum on my last day in Rome was looking at works of art depicting places that I had recently visited, like the image of Jacob's Well in Shechem, where the pilgrimage began.