fátima

As the story goes, in 1917, three children came face to face with an apparition of the Virgin Mary, while taking their flock of sheep out to pasture. Mary told them to return to the site at the same hour on the thirteenth day of the next five consecutive months, which the children did faithfully. A miracle was promised, and on October 13, Mary appeared once more, asking that a chapel be built upon the site in her honour. Soon afterward, 70,000 people witnessed the sun "whirling on itself like a wheel of fire, (and) it seemed about to fall upon the earth."

The chapel became the enormous Santuário de Fátima, where pilgrims from all over the world come to show their devotion— some walking across the country, some shuffling upon their knees from the entrance of the complex to the chapel. There were people from as far away as Venezuela and Korea, people in wheelchairs, people with desperation on their brows, people who looked overjoyed.



What I found interesting, were these beeswax sculptures of body parts, located near a fire pit into which pilgrims tossed enormous candles in prayer. The sculptures reminded me of Mexican milagros, little folk charms used for healing. Milagros can be made of anything really, but are typically found embossed in tin, and can be rather ornate. Here in Fátima, prayers for healing took the form of wax body parts, softly molded and pale. The image of a child, of hearts, a pancreas, and a pair of legs, brought a pang of sadness in my chest. I hope the people who left them there get what they need.



The air was hot, and fragrant with that sweet honey smell of beeswax.

the origin of a word

There is a cave in a hill in Antakya. In fact, there are many caves in hills in Antakya, but what makes this cave unique, is that it houses one of the oldest churches in the world. The Church of St. Peter is the very first place in history where Christians were called Christians— which is incredible, when you think about it. I never actually thought about the origins of the term 'Christian.' To actually stand in a physical place where a word was born, where a belief was solidified by a name, felt humbling. Big things generally do start off small.



The facade of the church was built by Crusaders around 1100 CE, but it is long believed that St. Peter the apostle himself,  dug the church out of the rock. There are scars of frescoes— nothing discernible, and puzzle pieces of mosaic designs, faded and crumbled. The entire church is only 13 metres deep by 9.5 metres wide— with a central altar placed there in 1932.



Turkey really is just built upon layers and layers of history.

piety

The little tiled niches depicting biblical imagery which I spied throughout my adventure in Portugal, reminded me of the mini shrines I became so familiar with in Nepal— minus the butter lamps, smears of magenta powder, and smoking incense. I suspect the niches are occasionally graced by a melting candle or two, and perhaps some flowers. This need to build a little space of worship, this common thread between such different religions and cultures which lie nearly halfway across the world from each other, is touching. I find that people are more alike than unlike. We just need to remind ourselves of it more often.