A recent drive through the back roads of Virginia took me by surprise. I was expecting constant reminders of the American Civil War --- indeed, in a drive of a few hundred miles, there were numerous road markers announcing a battle or other important event. But there were impressions that went far beyond the War Between the States and even the US. The peace and solitude on the back roads of Virginia are reminiscent of the non-coastal roads of South Island, New Zealand, and the churches in this sparsely=occupied part of America are almost as plentiful as the wats in Bangkok.
Our route through Virginia avoided the interstates as much as possible to take in the magnificent countryside. The only distraction was the car forced on me, which had the dubious achievement of oversteering and understeering simultaneously. No wonder Detroit is in terminal decay --- US cars should only be seen in museums and never let loose on roads.
But I digress from the essential memory of driving ten or fifteen minutes in total isolation, not another soul on the road. In Western Europe, it is virtually impossible to have this experience. Thoughts of the solitude in New Zealand return.
Along the way, however, the Civil War does re-appear. The Appomattox Court House is well worth the visit, a reminder of how the blinding fury of the War closed at a small, otherwise insignificant, village in the backwoods of southern Virginia.
Now to rush in where angels fear to tread. I write of houses of religion.
More than 2000 years ago on the Appian Way leading to Rome, Pompey the Great left human markers hung on a crucifix every few hundred yards. While I'm not certain if each martyr cried, “I’m Spartacus” as Pompey and Crassus rode by, but as I drove the Virginia backroads, I was tempted to yell that referenceevery two or three minutes --- there were so many crucifixes.
We passed Baptist, Presbyterian, Methodist and churches of other Protestant denominations so often that we quickly lost count. Occasionally, we saw three churches within 200 yards of each other. The McDonald’s, KFC, and Subway signs, the normal companions on a US drive, had been replaced by God's advertising. (Or rather a certain type of God's advertising --- we did see one church for Jehovah’s Witnesses but there was not one mosque, synagogue or Hindu temple. Instead, markers setting out the Ten Commandments were frequently set up in corners of fields.)
In an area of America which is clearly recession-challenged, I wonder how these small communities pay for and maintain such vast numbers of churches. I am at a loss. And then I remember Bangkok. That city boasts more than 4,000 wats for worship. The people are poor but are willing to sacrifice a substantial part of their income for their religion.
Perhaps the human race, whether in Thailand or the US, isn’t so different after all.