Crossing the Line

By Alli Sinclair 

Alli is entertaining international guests this week so we're running a post from a couple of years ago. Enjoy!

The Cessna putters along the stony runway, strong wind gusts pushing the tail off course. Just when I think the pilot will abandon the take-off, he guns the engine. I suck in my breath and grab the sides of the cracked leather seat I’m sitting on. With eyes squeezed shut, the flying tin can shudders beneath my feet and finally builds to a quaking crescendo. When we’re airborne, I pry one eye open and figure if I’m going to die, then it might as well be with a bird’s eye view of one of the ancient world’s unsolved mysteries-the Nazca Lines in Peru.

Luckily, the plane steadied and I made the journey safely, but I’d already forgotten my fear of dropping out of the sky like bird doo-doo once I got my first glimpse of the mysterious lines that can only be seen from the sky. Listed by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site, the Nazca lines are situated on an arid plateau 250 miles (400km) south of Lima and date back to between 400 and 650 AD. There are hundreds of geometric shapes, which include drawings of hummingbirds, spiders, monkeys, fish, sharks, and llamas.

No one knows for sure who made the shallow lines, but scientists agree the lines were made by removing the red rocks on the surface of the earth to expose white rocks beneath. From the ground, these lines appear to be a mish-mash with no apparent rhyme or reason. But from the air, these odd patterns take on a totally different meaning. The two most well-known lines are the 295 feet (90m) high monkey an extravagantly curving tail and a condor with a 426 feet (130m) wingspan.

Discovered in 1927 by passengers on a commercial flight taking a new route, the Nazca Lines have baffled anthropologists, archaeologists, and ethnologists, as well as lay men. Many have tried to discover the who the creators are for what reason the lines exist, but to date, but to date, no one has any concrete answers. Here are just a few of the theories that have been put forward:

Maria Reiche, a German mathematician, spent her life studying the lines and claimed the indigenous people of Nazca created them as a way of communicating with their gods in the sky and also as an astronomical calendar for agriculture.

In the 1970’s, American Jim Woodman tested out his theory that the creators of the lines used balloons made of fine Peruvian cotton and reed baskets. He asked the Aymara Indians to make a hot air balloon that could have been used by the Nazca people from that time period. From the sky, he could see the lines clearly but without using technology, he couldn’t signal those on the ground as to where to move the rocks. His theory literally blew sky high when the balloon caught fire and the two pilots made a narrow escape.  

Swiss author Erich von Däniken held a theory that a long time ago, aliens visited earth. After the aliens disappeared the Nazca people made the lines in the hope they would get the message and return. Many people like to poo-poo this theory, but those who believe it will very quickly point out the spaceman figure on a hill near the main lines.

Anthropologist William H. Isbell believes the kings of Nazca ordered the people to make these lines because if the commoners were working, then they couldn’t procreate. And if they couldn’t procreate then their inadequate stores of food would become strong enough to sustain a limited population. 

Anthropologists Markus Reindel and David Johnson believe the lines are markers for subterranean water. The figures show the water stream, and zigzag lines show where they end. American Professor of Anthropology, Anthony Aveni has a similar belief but adds that the lines are connected with calendar, water, and mountain deities. It’s with this belief, he feels the Nazca people celebrated a water cult and used the figures and lines for ceremonial dances.

John D. Miller analyzes ancient buildings worldwide and has discovered they often hold a value of 177 feet. He bases his theories on several holy numbers and units of measurement and believes the Nazca Lines fit within the 177 feet model. 

The Code of Carl Munck believes ancient sites around the world are precise positions on a global, coordinated system in relation to the position of the Great Pyramid of Giza. An ancient system called Gematria or Gematrian numbers are found in ancient myths and religions, including the Bible, and according to Gematria experts, the Nazca Lines fall neatly into this patterning.

Phew! And this is just a short list of theories. It’s very easy to Google to your heart’s desire to find out more. For me, floating with the birds, staring wide-eyed at the lines below, wondering who, why, and how, was an experience I’ll never forget. Maybe one day, we’ll find discover the real reason behind the Nazca Lines, but for now, I’m happy to analyze the theories and come to my own conclusion. And in case you’re wondering, I did kiss the ground when we landed.

Azadi Tower—Gateway to Tehran

Azadi Tower
Photo by Ondřej Žváček

By Heidi Noroozy

Every great city needs a symbol. Or so Shah Mohammed Reza Pahlavi might have been thinking when he commissioned the construction of Borj-e Shahyad Aryamehr (King’s Memorial Tower) in 1971. Built to mark the 2,500^th anniversary of the founding of the Persian Empire by Cyrus the Great, the tower was also a tribute to the shah himself. The second half of its name, Aryamehr, or “Light of the Aryans,” was one of Shah Mohammed Reza’s titles. (He was also called “Shahanshah, or “King of Kings.”) After the 1979 Islamic Revolution that deposed him, the tower was renamed Borj-e Azadi (Freedom Tower).

Shaped like an upside-down Y, the tower stands 164 feet above the peaceful oasis of a green park vast enough to shield it from the maelstrom of the city’s relentless traffic. The structure is covered by 8,000 blocks of white marble from Isfahan Province in central Iran. The complex today houses a Koran museum and audiovisual exhibition center. A fountain bubbles forth at the base of the tower, and a viewing platform at its top affords magnificent views of the city (at least when smog doesn’t get in the way). From certain angles, the building even looks a bit like a headless sphinx.

Under the arches

Azadi Tower was designed by Hossein Amanat, a 24-year-old architect who won the commission in a competition. He incorporated ancient Persian styles with Islamic and modern architecture. The chahar taq (four arches) design dates back to the pre-Islamic Sassanid period (205–261 AD), and the pointed vault in the center is an Islamic element that represents the mihrab, or prayer niche in the wall of a mosque. And the park that fills the vast square with trees, flower beds, and fountains is fine example of a Persian garden.

Amanat, a Baha’i, may have even incorporated symbols of his religious faith in the form of the auspicious number nine: The sides of the structure each bear nine grooves, and there are nine windows in the tower’s high walls. Whether or not he added this symbolism intentionally is the subject of much speculation.

During the Islamic Revolution, Azadi Tower became a focus of anti-government demonstrations, when crowds of dissatisfied citizens gathered under its arches to call for an end to the monarchy. That tradition was taken up again in 2009, when supporters of Iran’s defeated presidential candidate, Mir Hossein Mousavi, congregated in the square to protest what they saw as a stolen election.

Azadi Tower at night
Photo by Alireza Javaheri

But Iran’s theocracy also claims the tower as its own, an enduring symbol of their victory over the monarchy. Pro-government demonstrations are held there, as are important national celebrations such as anniversaries of the Islamic Revolution.

On my first few trips to Iran, before a new international airport was built south of Tehran, Azadi Tower was always my first glimpse of Tehran on the road from Mehrabad Airport to my in-laws’ house. With its unusual architecture bathed in ethereal light, it stood like a beacon against the night sky, welcoming me to a city filled with exotic sights, sounds, and tastes, waiting to be explored.

Off the Beaten Track: I Came to Casablanca for the Waters

We're pleased to have writer Jake Needham as our guest blogger this week. Jake is an American crime novelist who lives in Bangkok. His crime novels set in contemporary Asia include: THE AMBASSADOR'S WIFE, A WORLD OF TROUBLE, KILLING PLATO, LAUNDRY MAN, and THE BIG MANGO. His latest Inspector Tay novel, THE UMBRELLA MAN, will be released next month. The print editions of Jake's novels are distributed only in Europe, Asia, and the UK, where they have all been bestsellers. Happily, the e-book editions of his novels are available worldwide. Jake has lived and worked in Asia for over twenty-five years. Read more about Jake's books at his website, http://jakeneedham.com.

            

When I am in the United States and my city of residence comes up in conversation, I am usually asked — and almost always in a tone laden with wariness and suspicion — why in the world I am living in a place like Bangkok.

Bangkok. All photos courtesy Jake Needham.

Sadly, I cannot simply reply with Humphrey Bogart's famous line when he was asked how he came to be in Casablanca. I can make no claim to being misinformed. I had lived in Asian cities for a long time before I took up residence in Bangkok, and I knew exactly what I was getting into.

I have come in a perverse way to look forward to this track conversations with my fellow Americans seem to take whenever they learn that I am living in Bangkok. Instead of expressing curiosity about my life in the distant and exotic city that I call my home, my interlocutors seem far more intent on telling me what they think of the place.

Of course, very few Americans seemed to know much of anything about any place that is not America, but still it surprised me that I hardly ever meet anyone back in the United States who has anything at all to say about Bangkok, other than on one of two topics.

Food is one of those topics, naturally. Everyone claims to love Thai food. Going out for Chinese is cheap. Going out for Thai seems somehow hipper. Of course, most Westerners have no real idea what they are actually eating in either case, but Thai food is both cheap and hip, so how can you beat that?

The other topic, as you might guess, is sex. Bangkok is inexorably linked in most people’s minds with stories they have heard somewhere -- although I notice few people admit to remembering exactly where -- of an unabashedly dissolute life and the ready availability of free sex. Well, perhaps not exactly free, but certainly pretty inexpensive sex, at least by world standards. Thai sex is a little like Thai food, cheap but with a kind of exotic style to it. Can’t beat that combination in any context, can you?

With all that going for it, you might think that the idea of me actually living in Bangkok would be pretty interesting to most people, wouldn’t you? You might think that, but you’d be wrong.

A couple of times I tried joking that, well, a man could sure make a lot worse choice than taking up residence in a city that is internationally famed for food and sex. But when I saw the solemn expressions that crack generally engendered in most Americans, I swiftly eliminated it from my repertoire. Maybe the suggestion that food and sex are important parts of life makes Americans uncomfortable. Maybe I ought to have more friends from France.

Anyway, the inevitable view people express when they find out that I live in Bangkok is something I have learned to live with. Oh, the place is no doubt interesting, people murmured, but yet . . . somehow it's still a city where a lot of people go who aren’t particularly…well, nice.

To be absolutely honest with you here, I have to admit that perception isn't really too far off the mark.

I have often thought there has to be some kind of international network devoted to coaxing social rejects and dropout cases worldwide into coming to Bangkok, because come they do. By the thousands, they walk away from third-shift jobs in places like Los Angeles, London, Berlin, and Toronto, pack what they have, buy a cheap airline ticket, and make their way to the Land of Smiles.

Some are looking for a cheap tropical paradise; others hope they’ve joined a nonstop orgy; but almost every one of them is intending in some way to make a fresh start on a life that until then had very little to recommend it. Many of these refugees from reality probably couldn’t have located Bangkok on a map before they decided it was the place for them, maybe they still can’t, but now Bangkok had become their last, maybe their only hope.

In the empty hours, this army of the dispossessed takes control of the part of the city where most foreigners live. Tuk-tuks, little three-wheeled motorcycle taxis, fly back and forth most of the night ferrying carousers between the two clumps of bars that anchor the neighborhood: Nana Plaza on the west and Soi Cowboy about a mile to the east.

They are all there. The lonely, the frightened, the guilty, the lost, the vulnerable, the depressed, and the psychotic. Soaked with sweat, they rush back and forth from one bar to another, reeking of that peculiarly sour, metallic odor habitually given off by the emotionally overmatched and underachieving.

So, I hear you ask, how in the world did you end up in Bangkok?

It happened this way…

Back a couple of decades ago now, HBO hired me to produce a movie they were making from a screenplay I had sold them. It was to be filmed in Bangkok and, since I lived in Asia and presumably knew something about it, they thought it sensible to add me to the corps of so-called producers that every movie drags around behind it like a modern version of the old time camp followers that every army attracted.

Regardless of HBO’s wisdom in putting me on the payroll, I must tell you now that I am grateful beyond measure that they did.

The woman who is now my wife was born in Thailand and educated in England (thank heaven it wasn’t the other way around). She was doing a stint at the time as the editor of the Thai edition of the UK magazine, Tatler, and she came out to the set one day to interview me. A year later we were married. Twenty years later, we have two sons and are still living in Bangkok .

So there you have it. That is how I came to be resident in a city that most Americans seem to think of as little more than adult Disneyland for the dodgy and the disreputable. Only with better food.

Admit it. You're actually a bit disappointed, aren't you? Maybe you expected something a little more…well, spicy?

I rest my case.