For those of you unacquainted with
UNESCO's list of World Heritage Sites, I strongly recommend proceeding with caution as this list may turn into a mild obsession if there is any Indiana Jones/history geek/wanderlust anywhere within you. I'm not sure when Ian and I became aware that many of the things we wanted to see and do in our lifetimes included World Heritage sites, but after visiting a number throughout Europe and and parts of Asia this past year we are hopelessly hooked. Lucky for us, our new locale has a number of relatively close sites (and by relatively, i mean closer than we are to them when in the USA *wink*) that keep us dreaming about what our next weekend adventure might include. This weekend we crossed another site off of our list as we visited some Shaivistic cave temples carved out of the stone side of a mountain thought to date back to the 9th-13th century.
Archaeological sites hold a special place in my heart, and I love art history. Being able to see pieces that I've read about or studied right up close really makes me happy, and sometimes a little giddy or emotional. Luckily this trip was not one of those emotional reactions, but ask me some time about the man who pushed me when i was viewing the Venus di Milo for the first time and I will still have some strong emotions to share.
Amazing pieces have always moved me, and this experience was no exception. The carvings in the caves were extremely complex and ornate. Many of them representing pieces of the human form in a way that portrays movement in exciting non-western ways.
Still, as any truly rewarding experience, there was a journey and price to pay to get there. This began on our boat ride out to the area where the caves are located. We got on a slightly rickety older boat with 30 of our closest strangers and made the hour long ride to our port. Usually I find boat rides very calming, but this ride proved a slight exception.
I believe I have mentioned via some social media within the last week that our forecast for the last two weeks have been "smoke." Not fog, not clouds.... smoke. Not only has that been the forecast, but it has been the extremely
accurate forecast. As we pulled away from land and out to the open water I watched the skyline behind us disappear into a haze of smoky smog. On the upside I did see the blue color of the sky for the first time in a number of weeks. The air quality here is terrible and estimated to be the equivalent of smoking two packs of cigarettes a day. Adding to the sad view of our city was the sight of a mother instructing her child to throw the soda bottles and plastic bags overboard into the murky deep. It hurt my heart, because this cultural acceptance of rubbish everywhere adds to one of the biggest problems in the developing world which is the availability of clean drinking water. Each time one of the people on our boat tossed another piece of garbage overboard, all i could do was shake my head and hope that change is in the future.
Our boat finally docked giving us about two hours to climb the small mountain up to the caves and return before the last boat back. We made some tracks and paid a number of random fees to get up the mountain, but the most bothersome part to me was not the huge fees but the monkeys.
Yes, I said monkeys. It's not that I don't like monkeys or think they are cute or fascinating, but it is more that monkeys who have the ability to freely come up to me and invade my personal space freak me out a little bit.
On our trek up the steep stone walkway to see the caves I started to notice just how 'friendly' these little primates here are. The stone walkway we were trekking was covered by blue tarps above us as canopies to keep the hot sun off of the vendors that line the entire route. These athletic critters were using these well placed tarps as monkey sized trampolines. We'd be huffing and puffing our way up the trail when *phoomm!!!!* the tarp above us would slack under the weight of the fuzzy monkey it was receiving from a nearby tree. Then the tarp would recoil sending the monkey flying in another direction, or on less lucky jumps the tarp would give a little too much and you could see a monkey shadow sliding down the side of the tarp to be dumped swiftly into a heap on the ground.
Honestly, this became much funnier on the way down the mountain, as we stopped for a lime soda and watched the multi-level chaos with bouncing monkeys above and bustling shop vendors below, but on the way up I braced myself for a mid-air collision with every loud thump.
I would like to say that this was the only mischief these devious creatures were up to, but as we neared the caves we watched the monkeys chase tourists and steal plastic bags full of lunches! As I told my sister about this yesterday she said "oh.. so kind of like squirrels." Ha! Like squirrels with opposable thumbs, fangs, much better cognitive skills.... and the size of a toddler. So....no... not really like squirrels.
We made our way past most of the monkeys into the cave area, and explored the man-made caverns complete with stone carved columns for structural integrity.
It was an exciting dip into the local cultural history, and I walked away with a lot to think about and hopefully a few good pictures.
Still, the way down from the caves was not devoid of monkey business. There was a group of women in their traditional dresses by the exit gate to the stairway who wait there with cooking pots balanced on their heads trying to get tourists to pay to have their picture taken with them. As I encroached into the crowd of curry-carrying women hoping not to have anyone's dinner end up on my head, the monkeys made their move. Out of nowhere a group of about ten monkeys of all shapes and sizes came charging down the gate and leaping through the maze of pots across the open gateway. I have a very limited native vocabulary, but one word that has been essential in maintaining my composure in difficult situations is that staple "NO" word. As the monkeys charge and the women crowd and my life seems to hover in a slow motion struggle all I can seem to wail is "no! no! no! no!!!" and boosted with a little extra energy by my verbal outburst I successfully snaked and elbowed my way out of the kitchen pot and monkey maze. Which was good because shortly after this became a screaming kitchen pot monkey maze as some other westerners with less elbowing ability got stuck in the middle. Phew! Close one.
With the monkey madness behind me, we headed back to the dock saying hello to some cows who were eating leftovers from the corn on the cob vendors. I spent most of the boat ride back trying to hide from some creepy guy trying to take pictures of me on his cell phone and watching more well-meaning mothers throw their rubbish overboard.
Luckily a tasty plate of spaghetti (served saucy.. which is the best add-on menu choice ever) while pondering the sights of another World Heritage site crossed off the list was my hard earned reward for a day of sight-seeing, litter grimacing, and monkey dodging. But as is often the case, the journey, not the destination, was the true adventure.
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