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Monastery of St. Moses (Mar Musa |
The Syrian Desert north of Damascus is a desolate wasteland of steep, barren hills that rise over burning plains of rock and sand. The scenery here is vast and elementally empty, a biblical wilderness devoid of any life. At least that’s how it appears at first sight; but look closer and the land reveals a rich and layered history.
Roman roads and staging posts; the crumbling remains of a summer palace that belonged to the flamboyant Princess Zenobia of Palmyra; ancient irrigation systems used by Roman garrisons and Byzantine monks… And, hidden away at the end of a small valley, the 6th century Monastery of St. Moses the Abyssinian, Deir Mar Musa al Habashi, where a small religious community of priests is working to bring life to the desert.
Abandoned at the end of the 19th century, Mar Musa was rediscovered in 1982 by a young Italian Jesuit who had come to the Qalamun Mountains for a spiritual retreat. Since then, Father Paolo dall’Oglio has established a small ecumenical community of priests, nuns and monks at Mar Musa. The community is active on many fronts: they dedicate much time to promoting dialogue and understanding between religious communities - Muslim, Christian, Jewish, Hindu and Buddhist. They are also working on the restoration of the 11th century church with its frescoes and intricate woodwork.
The Search for Water
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| The Syrian Desert is a desolate wasteland of steep barren hills |
Life at the monastery is not easy though. Traditionally, man always lived in harmony with the inhospitable desert environment here, until the 19th century when the balance between humans and their environment gradually deteriorated. The resulting problems - desertification and pollution in particular - have increased dramatically during the 20th century. The valleys around the monastery have, until now, been largely spared and they remain a sanctuary for plants and animals. However an increase in population, together with a return to farming, has put further pressure on the already frail environment in the region. Too many people are competing for too few resources and the community at Mar Musa has realized they have to actively intervene if they want to secure their future at the monastery.
Lack of water, which drove the religious community away in the 19th century, is still a serious problem. Father Paolo explains that when he discovered the abandoned monastery and decided to restore it, water was his first concern. Initially the monks had to rely exclusively on the water collected in the Roman cisterns that the hermits had used in old times. “Water is everything for us; it is what our future depends on. Finding and not finding water affects me a lot. Every drop of water I care about and I can feel it in me,” he says. “When we were digging for water and we didn’t find any, I was almost physically affected. My thoughts were 500 meters underground, at the bottom of the well, trying to feel the water,” he says with passion.
Father Paolo doesn’t strike you as a priest: he wears baggy trousers, a red and white checkered kheffiyeh is draped loosely around his neck, and wrap-around sunglasses protect his eyes from the glaring desert light. In a gruff voice he talks about life in the desert; he has a faint Italian accent: the r’s roll off the tip of his tongue like marbles.
“We made several attempts at digging wells, we dug one and failed; there was not enough water. We lost all the money from the grant we had received and we had to start again. We dug another and another. The fourth attempt was successful: on a dark March night in the middle of an electric storm and driving rain, we finally found water. It was like a miracle: after months of frustration, the sight of water bubbling up from the depths of this desert land - even if it was muddy and warm - was like an act of God. Everyone went crazy, people were crying and laughing at the same time. We slaughtered a ram on the spot to celebrate, and as it roasted the water continued to flow and became clear and transparent. Since then we can irrigate our fruit trees,” he says, smiling at the memory.
To supplement the water from the wells, a small retaining dam has also been built at the top of the valley. The scarce rain that falls in the Qalamun Mountains can thus be collected and used on the various projects in the valley.
International Collaboration
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| Pears and peaches are being grafted onto wild almond trees |
Indeed, besides restoring the monastery itself, the monks at Mar Musa are working to revive the barren environment around the monastery, starting with the valley they live in. Working with international NGOs - the FAO, the International Center for Agriculture Research in Dry Areas (ICARDA) - the Syrian government, and local farmers and shepherds, the community of Mar Musa is rehabilitating the degraded and infertile land which has suffered from heavy overgrazing. “Improved transport means farmers no longer pay attention to the limits of the land,” Father Paolo explains. “They let their animals graze until they have taken the last bit of vegetation and then they transport them by truck to a new place. It has led to a very unsustainable use of the land and been disastrous for the biodiversity of the region.”
Using only local plant species, the monks are now restoring the traditional flora: pears and peaches are being grafted onto wild almond trees that are notoriously resistant to heat and drought. The region was also famed for medicinal plants, which are now gradually being reintroduced. The priests also keep goats and bees, producing cheese and honey together with local farmers; the ultimate aim of the project is to improve the livelihoods of the local population.
Eco-tourism Needs More ‘Spirit’
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| There are so many tourists that the quiet and meditative atmosphere is completely drowned out by the crowds |
The biodiversity project at Mar Musa is linked to an eco-tourism project. This part is more problematic to the members of Mar Musa. Two years ago an asphalted road was built to the monastery, and visitor numbers immediately shot up. Father Paolo is resigned. When asked what he thinks of the new road he says, with French intonation: “Boff. There is not much to say about it. It’s a road, that’s all. It ruins our view completely but we have to play the game: the local government is planning to turn our monastery into a tourist attraction and we have little say in the matter.” He says Fridays are the worst: there are so many tourists that the quiet and meditative atmosphere that is so important to monastic life is completely drowned out by the crowds of people. Father Paolo now seeks to strike a balance and encourage a kind of spiritual eco-tourism that will respect Mar Musa as a place of silence and meditation.
At the same time, the fact that there is so much interest for the spiritual center from both Muslims and Christians living in the vicinity, gives hope to the community who preach tolerance and mutual understanding.
In the end, caring for the environment at Mar Musa was not a choice; it was a necessity. In these tough conditions in particular, man must seek to live in harmony with his surroundings, disrupting the fragile ecosystem as little as possible. Ignoring decline in biodiversity and the threat of desertification would in the long term have made life at Deir Mar Musa impossible. The community is keenly aware of this. They say: “Should we have chosen not to intervene and allow the quality of the environment to continue to decline, we would endanger the very possibility of existing as a place of spirituality and meditation with a positive social impact. For us, our environment has to be not only protected but also valued spiritually, aesthetically, biologically, socially, and economically.”
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