{"id":70,"date":"2015-03-12T01:01:00","date_gmt":"2015-03-12T01:01:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/admin.patheos.com\/blogs\/labmind\/2015\/03\/on-my-33rd-birthday.html"},"modified":"2016-03-25T17:28:39","modified_gmt":"2016-03-25T22:28:39","slug":"on-my-33rd-birthday","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/labmind\/2015\/03\/on-my-33rd-birthday.html","title":{"rendered":"On my 33rd birthday"},"content":{"rendered":"<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC \"-\/\/W3C\/\/DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional\/\/EN\" \"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/TR\/REC-html40\/loose.dtd\">\n<html><head><meta http-equiv=\"content-type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=utf-8\"><meta http-equiv=\"content-type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=utf-8\"><\/head><body><p>Last week I turned thirty-three years old.<\/p>\n<p>For some time I have wondered what it would be like to be thirty-three, the age of Jesus at his death. \u00a0Honestly, like at every birthday, I feel quite the same.<\/p>\n<p>This birthday was different from my previous twenty-five birthdays because I had the joy to be present at the country of my birth, Peru. \u00a0The last time I celebrated my birthday in the city where I was born was when I turned eight in 1990. \u00a0That\u2019s a long time.<\/p>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/3.bp.blogspot.com\/-9AD5oS7-PD4\/VQEZNnal8bI\/AAAAAAAADtM\/WImKehFmPC0\/s1600\/DSC07974.JPG\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/3.bp.blogspot.com\/-9AD5oS7-PD4\/VQEZNnal8bI\/AAAAAAAADtM\/WImKehFmPC0\/s1600\/DSC07974.JPG\" alt=\"\" width=\"320\" height=\"240\" border=\"0\"><\/a><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\">The city of my birth, Lima, Peru<\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: left;\">On my 33rd birthday I was able to check something off from my bucket list. \u00a0For years I have wanted to fly over the mysterious Nazca lines which were drawn by the Nazca people on the desert about 450 kilometers (or a six hour drive) south of Lima.<\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><a style=\"margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;\" href=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/-ZGYKPNMAnhU\/VQEYnAjlOHI\/AAAAAAAADrs\/B0igpNFnmkA\/s1600\/DSC03691.JPG\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/-ZGYKPNMAnhU\/VQEYnAjlOHI\/AAAAAAAADrs\/B0igpNFnmkA\/s1600\/DSC03691.JPG\" alt=\"\" width=\"320\" height=\"240\" border=\"0\"><\/a><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\">Driving in the Peruvian desert along the coast<\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: left;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: left;\">These lines are about 2,000 years old and the original purpose for their design is unknown. \u00a0The wide open desert of Nazca, one of the driest places on Earth, contains these lines which represent various animals such as a whale, hummingbird, monkey and many others. \u00a0There is even a human being waving towards the ocean oftentimes called \u201cthe astronaut\u201d due to his space suit-looking clothes. \u00a0The lines vary in size, the largest being around 600 feet in length. \u00a0These recognizable shapes along with many long lines that intersect throughout the desert together make up the Nazca lines.<\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: left;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><a style=\"margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;\" href=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/3.bp.blogspot.com\/-CYaDwf-rZQw\/VQEYrsnRzcI\/AAAAAAAADsM\/kKmPS75i7_E\/s1600\/DSC03826.JPG\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/3.bp.blogspot.com\/-CYaDwf-rZQw\/VQEYrsnRzcI\/AAAAAAAADsM\/kKmPS75i7_E\/s1600\/DSC03826.JPG\" alt=\"\" width=\"320\" height=\"240\" border=\"0\"><\/a><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\">The whale (bottom left)<\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><a style=\"margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;\" href=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/-K2eHXzqhvGM\/VQEavOEnAtI\/AAAAAAAADto\/K5jIGgwEUEw\/s1600\/DSC03840.JPG\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/-K2eHXzqhvGM\/VQEavOEnAtI\/AAAAAAAADto\/K5jIGgwEUEw\/s1600\/DSC03840.JPG\" alt=\"\" width=\"320\" height=\"240\" border=\"0\"><\/a><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\">The Hummingbird (center right)<\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><a style=\"margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;\" href=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/-lEBidQwTghs\/VQEauVQ7GyI\/AAAAAAAADtc\/yMcNqko2R2s\/s1600\/DSC03834.JPG\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/-lEBidQwTghs\/VQEauVQ7GyI\/AAAAAAAADtc\/yMcNqko2R2s\/s1600\/DSC03834.JPG\" alt=\"\" width=\"320\" height=\"240\" border=\"0\"><\/a><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\">The monkey (bottom left, a little harder to see)<\/div>\n<div style=\"text-align: left;\"><\/div>\n<p>Thanks primarily to the tireless dedication of German archaeologist Maria Reiche throughout the twentieth century, the Nazca lines have been preserved and continue to be studied. \u00a0Some scientists believe they were built as temples for the gods, others argue they are a stellar calendar while others (perhaps the non-scientists) believe they are an ancient alien landing site.<\/p>\n<div style=\"text-align: center;\"><a style=\"margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;\" href=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-NPxeRKsBWPk\/VQEYm29gq2I\/AAAAAAAADro\/bd2Z0humMeA\/s1600\/DSC03818.JPG\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-NPxeRKsBWPk\/VQEYm29gq2I\/AAAAAAAADro\/bd2Z0humMeA\/s1600\/DSC03818.JPG\" alt=\"\" width=\"320\" height=\"240\" border=\"0\"><\/a><\/div>\n<div style=\"text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div style=\"text-align: center;\">Yes, I flew in this four passenger plane<\/div>\n<p>Flying over the lines was risky business until recent years. \u00a0The small planes often crashed over the desert killing all passengers. \u00a0Thankfully our copilot informed us before take off that our barf bag could be used as a parachute in case of an emergency. \u00a0I did not know whether to laugh or get off the plane. \u00a0The flight was excellent, there was no turbulence and the lines could be seen clearly.<\/p>\n<div style=\"text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div style=\"text-align: center;\"><a style=\"margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;\" href=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/3.bp.blogspot.com\/-PvgDMiYNBg8\/VQEYw_nGl9I\/AAAAAAAADsk\/I0wJB7313d0\/s1600\/DSC03862.JPG\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/3.bp.blogspot.com\/-PvgDMiYNBg8\/VQEYw_nGl9I\/AAAAAAAADsk\/I0wJB7313d0\/s1600\/DSC03862.JPG\" alt=\"\" width=\"240\" height=\"320\" border=\"0\"><\/a><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div style=\"text-align: center;\">Feeling safe with my barf bag parachute<\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><a style=\"margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;\" href=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/-nrOWYmZ8c8w\/VQEauDOqMgI\/AAAAAAAADtY\/Qf3zNdnjfdE\/s1600\/DSC03853.JPG\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/-nrOWYmZ8c8w\/VQEauDOqMgI\/AAAAAAAADtY\/Qf3zNdnjfdE\/s1600\/DSC03853.JPG\" alt=\"\" width=\"320\" height=\"240\" border=\"0\"><\/a><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\">The Pan American Highway crossing through the Nazca desert<\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><a style=\"margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;\" href=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-NBkU7-nfHCo\/VQEYvRsY2YI\/AAAAAAAADsc\/EQa05UwUfcI\/s1600\/DSC03851.JPG\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-NBkU7-nfHCo\/VQEYvRsY2YI\/AAAAAAAADsc\/EQa05UwUfcI\/s1600\/DSC03851.JPG\" alt=\"\" width=\"320\" height=\"240\" border=\"0\"><\/a><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\">The Nazca Valley<\/div>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><a style=\"margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;\" href=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/--UfIzr7BHFw\/VQEYwt1PtiI\/AAAAAAAADso\/6wx91iyAR2Q\/s1600\/DSC03854.JPG\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/--UfIzr7BHFw\/VQEYwt1PtiI\/AAAAAAAADso\/6wx91iyAR2Q\/s1600\/DSC03854.JPG\" alt=\"\" width=\"320\" height=\"240\" border=\"0\"><\/a><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\">With my college friend Scott flying about 2,000 feet above the surface. \u00a0From behind a French lady photo bombs our picture with a gentle smile.<\/div>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><a style=\"margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;\" href=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/3.bp.blogspot.com\/-sQL3bIUW_n4\/VQEYyTOYprI\/AAAAAAAADs0\/QnbyaVdbL2g\/s1600\/DSC03866.JPG\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/613\/3.bp.blogspot.com\/-sQL3bIUW_n4\/VQEYyTOYprI\/AAAAAAAADs0\/QnbyaVdbL2g\/s1600\/DSC03866.JPG\" alt=\"\" width=\"320\" height=\"240\" border=\"0\"><\/a><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\">Landing after the thirty minute flight<\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><\/div>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\">Pictures are mine, all rights reserved.<\/div>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Last week I turned thirty-three years old. For some time I have wondered what it would be like to be thirty-three, the age of Jesus at his death. \u00a0Honestly, like at every birthday, I feel quite the same. This birthday was different from my previous twenty-five birthdays because I had the joy to be present [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2533,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-70","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v21.1 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>On my 33rd birthday<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Last week I turned thirty-three years old. 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