As you might figure out, I visit the Met a lot. Like twice a week “a lot”. Thats like 114 times per year. This time was no different as I waltz into the museum and opened my bag for the security to inspect. They found nothing and I proceeded to pay my $1 donation and there I was. The Greek rotunda. Actual statues which were chiseled from big slabs of bronze and marble many centuries before Christ, and I was in vicinity of millions of dollars of art! I looked up at the vaulted ceiling and I always am amazed at the engineering and architectural marvel. I take the elevator up to the Israel, Iran, Central Asia, and Turkey exhibit, one of my favorites because I am in love with the silk road and its history. Persian rugs, Ottoman chairs, scrolls, manuscripts, an old Torah from Judea, Quranic text, a Turkish fountain, and so many other Middle Eastern art. I swear I spend a good 30 minutes just walking in circles taking in the art because this is one of the least visited exhibitions in the museum, so all of the tourists and camera flashes and extra noise is absent, augmenting my experience.
So I spend like maybe 5 minutes rushing through a pack of tourists with flashy cameras to get to the India, Nepal, and Tibet exhibit and I absolutely cannot get over the fact that they have Kama Sutra statues of people making love. I by reading the small plaquards that people disregard that Asoka (some Buddhist Indian ruler) encouraged sex and promiscuity as virtuous due to the reincarnation that stemmed from it, and I was like I have to take a selfie so I did. I always think of how much momey the Met had to pay local chiefs and local politicians in order to transport beautiful pergolas and decorated spaces, many of which are ornate by the way, and I think to myself, “Gosh, maybe when I’m older, I’ll hop on a plane instead of the train and see these places and these artifacts with my own eyes, in the places that they come from by the descendants of the people who made them.”