Category Archives: Where I’ve Been

The Boston Mapparium: Walking into the Center of the Earth

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“You get to walk into the middle of the world! You can be inside a map! This is basically all I’ve ever wanted out of life,” I said with only slight exaggeration. Luckily, my friend Mike agreed that a three-story glass globe sounded like a good tourist destination, so I put the Mapparium on the itinerary for when I visited him in Boston over Labor Day weekend in 2010.

outside the Mapparium

tourist pose!

The Mapparium is housed in the Mary Baker Eddy Library, part of a collection of buildings that make up the Christian Science Plaza in Boston. They only allow visitors in small groups at scheduled times, so you buy a ticket and mill about til your appointment. The lobby is set up with large posters depicting the highlights of Mary Baker Eddy’s life and the early years of the religion, such as charity projects and the Christian Science Monitor. The posters don’t dwell on the specifics of the religion, such as the basic tenet that the material world doesn’t exist and we are all spiritual beings. Funny that a religion with such beliefs erected a permanent tribute to the physical earth.

Christian Science headquarters

Once your group is called, you gather around a tour guide, who does a little intro and then asks you to be super quiet when you enter the Mapparium. This is because the acoustics of the room are like those giant whisper dishes in science museums; you can stand at one end of the room and whisper something, and someone standing at the other end will hear it as if you whispered right in their ear. This means only one person talks at a time. The tour guide talks a bit about the construction of the Mapparium–the 608 panes of glass, the hand-painted maps–and then turns on a recorded message about what the maps mean.

Journey to the center of the earth

The Mapparium was finished in 1935 and has been refinished but not changed since then. This means that the map shows the political world as it was pre-World War II. Many countries that don’t exist anymore appear: the Soviet Union, the Belgian Congo, French Indochina. Many countries that now exist didn’t then: Israel, all the ‘stan countries. The recorded message man talks about the decision to keep the map as an historical document, rather than updating it when wars and politics redraw the borders.

And then the propaganda sets in. The recorded guide describes the story of modern history as one of humanitarian triumph and progress. I’m not against this idea on principle (although a healthy dash of “and things are messed up too” would help). But the Mapparium takes a pretty selective view of what that story arc looks like; the disembodied voice talks about how democracy saved the world, and the map lights up with democratic countries. Then we hear that some countries still need to join the democracy train, and the map lights up behind those benighted countries. Democratic countries: the United States, the UK, and… Iraq. Non-democratic countries: North Korea, China, and… France. Hmm.

France, the non-democracy

But the slightly silly presentation aside, it’s awesome to be inside the Mapparium. Rather than being in the center of the earth looking out, we’re looking at a globe turned inside-out. The colors are deep and the writing is a little like calligraphy. And it’s endlessly fascinating to look at the changeable borders from eighty years ago. Being literally surrounded by the huge, colorful world was just as lovely and strange as I’d hoped. If you’re in Boston, I recommend it!

First two images are mine. Image 3. Image 4.

Embarrassing Myself for Your Entertainment

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I talk so much about the travel I’ve done and the travel I plan to do that I think there’s an assumption I’m travel-savvy at all times. Not true! I make plenty of travel blunders, and sometimes even repeat the same mistakes I’ve vowed to learn from.

at least I got the station right

Take a couple weeks ago, for example: it was the week before Christmas and I was going down to the south side of Chicago for dinner with my aunts and uncles. My dad was in town and would pick me up from the commuter train station, and we’d meet up with everyone else for dinner. The next day, Dad and I would drive up to Michigan together for holiday festivities. A simple plan. Hard to get it wrong. And yet…

It was a combination of factors. I had the day off of work, so I simultaneously over- and under-planned. I planned to fit too much stuff into the day–see my out-of-town friend! pack! run errands! all after a generous lie-in!–and then under-planned the time each one of those would take. So by the time my friend and I hugged goodbye, I had nothing packed and was supposed to leave my apartment ten minutes prior. I rushed around my house, tossing into a suitcase more clothes than I’d need and jewelry I knew I’d never wear. (Poor planning leads to poor packing, y’all.)

Then out the door, dash to the el, get off at La Salle, up the escalator, to the ticket booth, turn around and face the several trains awaiting passengers. Dearest fellow travelers, here is where I made the fatal mistake. Each train berth is headed up by an electronic sign detailing the time the train would depart and the stations it would call at. I glanced at the signs, found the soonest departure time, and walked confidently to that train. I seated myself, tucked my suitcase on the floor next to me, and turned the music up on my headphones. Note that at no point did I check the sign to see where I was going.

Next thing I knew, the train was in motion and the conductor came around to collect tickets. I handed him mine and he said, “Where are you going?” “99th Street,” I replied. “We’re not!” he said cheerily. Wait, what?

Not exactly a train to nowhere, just not to where I wanted to go

Yup, I’d got on an express train. It skipped right past 99th Street, past all the stops I recognized, and went on to a town I’d never heard of–Midlothian. Sounded like a villain from the Bible. I could get off at Midlothian to turn back, but the next train back to Chicago wouldn’t be for another 45 minutes and it was pretty cold out. Not only that, I’d got on a quiet car, where cell phones are forbidden, so I couldn’t even call my dad without stumbling over my suitcase and walking to the vestibule between cars. I stayed in my seat and texted madly, my face hot with embarrassment and my eyes prickling with tears (which only frustrated me more–this wasn’t so bad that I needed to cry about it! good grief).

It all worked out, of course. Dad kindly offered to pick me up in this mythical Midlothian, and we weren’t even late for dinner. Everyone ragged on me a little, which is only fair, after which the whole affair faded as we dug into our food.

But you’d better believe I was a little shaken; if I can’t even navigate a train system I’m familiar with, in my hometown, how on earth am I going to make it in cities with schedules written in non-Roman script and train staff not speaking English? With a lot more planning and a lot less rushing about, that’s how.

So take heart. If you’re an inexperienced traveler, know that no one has it perfect, so there’s no reason for the possibility of making mistakes to hold you back from heading out the door. And if you’re a more experienced traveler and never make such elementary mistakes, well, you sound about as mythical as Midlothian.

Photo 1. Photo 2.