Sabratha

The city of Tripoli has a long history. Just south of Italy, Libya sits right between the western and eastern Mediterranean. The ancient Phoenicians, and later Romans, established three main colonies here, Leptis Magna, Oea, and Sabratha, hence the name Tri (3) poli (city). Tripoli sits directly over the ruins of Oea;  Sabratha and Leptis lie directly to the west and east of here.

When our first work week came to an end we were ready to rest, but also eager to explore. Our first adventure outside of Tripoli was to the ruins of Sabratha, about 45 miles away. We got some simple directions from Terri, one of the few other teachers here that wasn't new. She said it was pretty much a straight shot on the main road, and it was, almost.

We woke up that first Friday morning and got on the road. Fridays here are like Sundays back home, it's the Muslim day of worship, and because of Ramadan, the streets were completely empty. We navigated our way to throughout the Seraj circle, a roundabout, counted the exits until we got the one for the freeway, and we were off.

Right away we began to look around for markers to be able to recognize our exit on the way back home. The freeway, a two lane road, is more like a mix between the 99 and Highway 1 in California. It's two lanes both ways, but with multiple side streets and stop lights as it works its way through the suburbs of Tripoli and the cities beyond. There are really no freeway exits; just pull off to the side of the road if you see a place where you want to stop. And often people traveling on one side of the road will pull over then cross the freeway on foot to go to whatever shop they need to go to; so you gotta watch for pedestrians.

We were on the road for about 30 minutes when it began to curve as it entered the next town. We made a wrong turn and ended up driving into the city. We stopped after a few minutes. I got out of the car and approached some men sitting on a couple of benches. After they accepted the fact that I didn't speak Arabic, despite my Arabic face, they understood that we were lost. I just repeated 'Sabratha, Sabratha,' and they pointed the way back to the freeway. We got back on and about 15 minutes later we saw the turn out for Sabratha.

The was nothing special about the street leading to Sabratha, so even though we were pretty sure that we were getting close, it was until we saw the massive theater that we finally let go of our breath.

I don't know what words to use to describe the scene or what we felt upon resting our eyes on the sight before us. As we drove up to the parking lot, a 2,000 year old theater dominated the land and sky. When you think of ancient ruins, you might imagine piles of stone and marble thrown about kind of like what's left behind when a child plays with lego blocks. But the theater at Sabratha stands almost completely intact and does not stand delicately at all but rather with all the permanence of the pyramids themselves.

I've been to other ancient sites, and some are either piles of rock with signs and drawings of what used to stand there. Or, they are intact structures like the Colosseum in Rome which is there to testify for itself. Sabratha is one such sight.

We paid the entry fee and once we left behind the security guards at the gate, we were happy to discover that we had the site almost all to ourselves. We made our way to the theater and the columns and arches rose higher into the sky as we inched closer.

We walked in from a side entrance, quite possibly into a changing area for performers. Those of you who have performed on stage would have found this place very familiar. It's a testament to these ancient people, that very little has been done to improve on their designs. Not because we aren't smart enough, but because they were so proficient at the art forms we continue today, the act of performing for an audience and all that comes with that, from the actual movement and placement of actors and dancers, to the architecture and design of the buildings themselves.

The stage itself has actually been slightly restored and modern productions continue at here. We took pictures all over the stage and seating areas, as we were free to explore the entire building with our only limitations being gravity itself.

We met a young Frenchman, exploring on his own, and he took a picture for us at the top level of the theater seating. There was also a couple of Englishmen we ran into, but mostly we were on our own.

After we finished searching through all the passageways of the theater we continued on to the area just outside. Old sights were temples and houses once stood now only the mosaics remain. These mosaics are still nearly entirely intact, and depict stories from ancient mythology or of daily life in ancient Rome. For those that might not know, a mosaic looks like a painting on the floor or on a wall from far away. It isn't until you get closer that you realize that there is no paint involved whatsoever. The images and designed are put together using different colored pieces of tile or rock. Every color is a natural occurring color found in the materials used. They are placed together to form vibrant scenes of battle, fishing, sex, worship, are intricate geometric designs.

We walked along the coast examining all the remains, the heat got the best of us and we headed back to the comfort of the theater to eat our lunch. Despite the beating sun, the theater is full of passageways designed to create wind tunnels where the temperature drops dramatically. We sat in one of these and comfortable ate our sandwiches and snacks amongst the ancient ruins. After eating we visited the museum to see  the statues and other mosaics that had been salvaged from the elements before heading back home.

As the day passed we made our way out of the site and towards our car. We saw the security guards washing their feet, hands and heads using an outdoor water fountain, that was more like a big hose poor water from a pump or well. It was then that we heard the afternoon call to prayer. We began to drive back and encountered lots of traffic on the road. We got back on the freeway and learned more about daily prayers.

The road back to Tripoli is dotted by mosque after mosque after mosque. As we approached a mosque we saw dozens of cars pulling over and parking wherever they could and their drivers and passengers, all men, rushing inside. Every mosque we passed was surrounded by parked cars, and the flood of people crossing the highway increased as they parked across the road to get to the mosque. It seemed to us that wherever they might be, Libyans simply went to their nearest mosque whenever the call to prayer is sounded.

20 minutes later, we were still on the road, but now people were leaving the mosques and filling the highway. Suddenly, as we approached a mosque, all the parked cars came alive and wanted a piece of the road.

This was no longer the empty road that we enjoyed on the way west, heading east it was a different thing altogether. Cars weaved in and out of lanes, through the shoulders, and into the opposite lanes all for a few yards of road. Stopping at a stoplight is troublesome, because you don't know if other drivers are going to stop or not. When you do stop, the lights that are actually functioning have a countdown. Usually from 60 seconds, the numbers count down how long until a red turns green. People start honking at the front cars at about 5 seconds left, trying to urge them to go, even if the other traffic hasn't cleared the intersection.

Soon, we began to recognize the signs for our exit, got off and maneuvered through the circle and onto the street that would lead us home. We stopped to run some errands at the local markets, before finally getting home. It was a good day, but we were eager to get some rest. The rest of the weekend was spent getting ready for the start of school the following week.