ANCIENT CITY OF EPHESUS, ANATOLIA, TURKEY ( WESTERN ASIA MINOR)
-- Image retrieved from suite101.com through pinterest.com
The first time it happened, I didn’t know what was happening, how it happened, why it happened. It just happened.
I was reading more about Homer as I go to bed, since it was our current topic in our English World Literature class. So as I was doing my research, I have stumbled upon the Homeric Question-- whether he actually walked the Earth at all. The question of his existence has been bugging scholars and writers for years now; it is even considered the greatest literary mystery.
Yeah, so what exactly happened? and why am I talking about Homer in a travel blog? Right.
Well, you see what happened made me find out the answer to the Homeric question.
I fell asleep doing research on Homer because let’s be honest, it does not really interest me that much (at that time at least.) And when I woke up, it felt like I was on the floor, and I slept on all the wrong positions, which is kinda true. I slept in (out) late because when I opened my eyes, the sun was already glaring daggers at me. And I was outside, I was not at home, I was not even sure if I am in the right country, planet, or time. I did not know what to do. I tried going for a phone call, but whatever I was wearing did not contain my cellphone. A single look at the place made me relax for a while.
I stood up, trying to take in more of the view. It was wonderful, slightly foreign but not really. This is the Ancient City of Ephesus, in Anatolia, Turkey or maybe what the people from that time would refer to as the Asia Minor. This particular temple or something was established atop of a hill, so you could basically look down and see everything. You could still see the pillars, with no cracks, and complete and well defined statues of deities.
I thought I was alone until a little girl broke me out of my reverie. She was wearing something similar to mine, it was sort of a dress with dull colors, and she was speaking in foreign language, but I somehow understood her. She called me brother and forced me to hurry by tugging on my clothing, for we will be late for the Poseideon storytelling.
I thought it was some dull childish event, but I have never been more wrong in my life ever.
The plaza, which looked like an outdoor conference room, was filled with tons of people surrounding an old man with a stick. There were kings, armoured men, children, people who looked like me, and all sorts of people. It was as if the most anticipated event in this town, it might even beat the hype for Christmas, but, hey, what do I know, this might be Christmas for this place. My sister and I squeezed through the crowd to get in front. We sat there, and as the old man stood in the center, everyone turned silent.
The stick, the old man, the crowd he brought in, the stories he’s telling, this era; everything finally made sense. The plaza was this man’s library and academy. I met Homer, and Homer does/ did exist. I felt more excited now than my little sister.
“Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. The gods envy us, for we are not boundless, and we suffer the consequences brought upon by our flaws. We are humans, and they envy us.” And with that, he started telling stories, he started with his most famous The Illiad. he talked about the Trojan war, retelling the verses that I’ve encountered earlier that week in English class. Maybe it was exhaustion from thinking or because it is getting late, but I got hungry, and I fell asleep.
And then I woke up, I was home. I logged this into my dream journal, ate breakfast, drank milk,and went to school, Homer’s words echoing in my brain: we are humans; we suffer the consequences brought upon by our flaws. Later that day I searched for Poseideon, and found out that it is an Attic month during Ancient Greece.
