Jason's Life

2009-12-07T15:14:00.000-08:00

When Did you Feel Most Free?

Its funny. Its my first day back at work after a month of travel in Argentina. A month seems like a long time at the outset, but three weeks in, you find yourself panicking trying to make the most of the time you have left. I'm listening to a song about people living life freely and it brought up memories. Sometimes I think its great to dwell on old memories, to keep them alive, to remember special moments and how they made you feel, what you saw, and why they affected you so. When did you feel most free? I'm going to meditate on this one.

2009-09-09T15:52:00.000-07:00

Back Again

Its roughly one year ago since I put my last entry into this blog. It seems very fitting that I'm back now blogging again. I just switched offices (seconded to a client's office). I'm interacting with new people, have new cafes to go to, a new office and a brand new environment.

For some reason, this feels like a form of traveling. And of course, soon I will be traveling again...stay tuned.

2008-09-02T11:27:00.000-07:00

“Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise”
- Ben Franklin, famously

“Put no trust in the benefits to accrue from early rising, as set forth by the infatuated Franklin …”
- Mark Twain

Ok Time to review my progress on my goals:

1. Marathon Training: - Its happening, it is now week 3 of my revised program. Week one was right on track. Week two was a bit off (I let a bit of a work/drinking function throw me off on Thursday, and time with parents occupied most of Sunday). Week three, here we go. Still, my mileage is generally now higher than its every been.

2. Music: - I've scoped out some pianos and its down to to pianos (and partly a matter of budget and whether I'll be able to get one down to a price I can afford).

3. Travel: - Scandinavia will be a bit off (due to money), but I've started looking into Havanna in January.

4. LL.M: - Hopefully today I can get all the requirements for the British Council to certify my documents done today. I'm hoping to be in a position to apply by the end of the week.

2008-08-10T11:09:00.000-07:00

Getting Back on Track

For the latter part of my trip, I had linked this blog (which is on blogger) to my facebook but given the ridiculous number of facebook "friends" I have (some of whom I barely know, to be honest), I may sever the connection because I don't think I necessarily want everyone access to this.

At some point during the trip, this blog lost its orientation as a method of keeping in touch with friends and became more a way of organizing my thoughts...almost an online diary. For that reason, this is likely the last entry that will be posted on facebook (although the blog will continue to exist on another website).

Its been so long since I have updated this blog. Actually, its coming up on one year.

Sad, really.

At first I felt there really was nothing to report. My life had gone from exploring new cities, diving from cliffs and flings with beautiful exotic and accomplished women to sitting at my desk, writing legal opinions and wondering what I would have for lunch.

At first, my return to Alberta was novel. The idea of my own big bed, television set, privacy, etc was incredibly enjoyable after going through a year of sharing rooms with other travelers. It was also great to see old friends, and tell them stories of my travels.

And then winter hit.

I got through my first Alberta winter in almost two years in miserable shape. The thought of going back to all the places I used to go to regularly seemed horrible. It felt regressive, and a huge let down. Add the fact that I had no car after losing my prized second-hand car (which I loved) prior to the trip, and that I had to trudge back and forth to work everyday through the snow, and I was not a happy camper.

To be fair, it could have been worse. My great friend and travel companion, Errol came back to no job, and had to move in with his parents. I was spared that fate and was back to work the day after returning, so I had a greater modicum of independence.

I think we both suffered a degree of post-travel depression.

Since then, there have been a few events which have helped distract me from my present circumstances. First, I did what a lot of people do when they feel that their present circumstances are a bit lackluster--they focus on their personal lives. I had a few flings and begun casually dating. Two women in particular seemed to have promise beyond the usual first few dates but neither felt "right". Really, both were great people but I never felt like I had established a very real connection with either. I'm sure it was partly my fault for holding back (although one did stand me up on her birthday when we had planned a big evening out).

Second, I had a lot of friendship/family obligations to contend with. I traveled to California for a cousin's wedding and got to know quite a few of the Filipino side of my family. I traveled to Chicago and got to be best man at my friend Raj's wedding (a very expensive affair for all of us to attend). I even went to a bachelor party in Vegas.

Third, I picked up running again. I have to say that my running friends are amongst my favorite people in the world. Even though I'm not as close to them as some of my other friends (I don't even know the last names of all of them), the shared misery and elation of those fast Wednesday runs and long Sunday runs makes me feel closer to them than to some of my closest friends.

This brings us up to now really. I have to say, the last 8 months or so, I have really coasted. Prior to travel, I was very focused on saving, and making the necessary arrangements to have the best experience overseas that I could. When I was traveling, every day was novel and sometimes I had to be very focused just to make it through the day (i.e. India).

Since returning, I can't say that I have accomplished a lot. I have been busy with work (but who hasn't really?). I've completed Deathrace (which was traumatic given my lack of proper preparation although I'm proud of successfully putting a team together that completed it). Past that, I haven't done the things that I said I would do upon return.

Instead as of late, I've been some what focused on my love life--which has had its ups and downs--lately downs as I've been casually dating this girl that I really like on a non-exclusive basis. I'm not used to dating someone I really like on a non-exclusive basis for so long and its giving me a bit of heartache (she has skirted any attempts I have made to have the 'lets be exclusive' conversation, and her affections as of late seem a bit muted). I've changed my facebook status back to 'single' because I suppose that accurately describes my situation. I'd change it to 'casually dating' if I could but there's no setting on facebook for that (get to it facebook book people!).

What I should be doing is stepping back a bit, and focusing my attention on other things that are important to me. It occurred to me, as I as obsessing on the state of my love life, that what I would normally do in those circumstances is practice piano. There is something that is at once both meditative and cathartic about playing that 'evens me out', so to speak. However, at present I don't even have a piano!

So my first goal is to get back on track with music. I'm going to get a piano, work away at standards, and I'll be looking at finding a good instructor/class during the next few weeks. I've found a few good ones in the US which would be worth taking time off and flying down and doing. I'll need to brush up on my technique though first.

My second goal is to do my LL.M. There isn't a lot of good programs out there for distance learning for LL.M which allow you to specialize in international law, but I have one in mind and I'll be applying in the next few weeks.

My third goal is to get serious and do another marathon. I'm thinking Sacramento, if finances allow, in December. That gives me a bit of time to up my mileage and do some proper, structured training.

This coasting has to stop. I need to start moving forward.

2008-07-26T15:32:00.000-07:00

Esbjorn Svensson Passes Away

What with the summer weddings and all I haven't kept up with as much of the news as i would like, and I was truly saddened to hear that Esbjorn Svensson passed away in June in a scuba diving accident.

His trio, EST, to my mind was one of the most exciting trios in the world. To me, his approach was truly modern in that his approach to jazz wasn't some piecemeal attempt to update the art form with other contemporary influences like drum&bass, funk and electronic sounds. Rather, his music incorporated those influences organically, in subtle ways. I suspect that, like Brad Meldau, he didn't isolate jazz from its classical influences, but rather embraced that sense of drama that you might find in even in the darkest of Schumann's works.

Listen to his trio here with "Serenade for the Renegade". That sense of drama, the ominous arc of the piece, with a slight drum&bass influenced beat behind it finishing with the other sounds to build tension that feel like they naturally belong instead of artificial in their inclusion.

BBC Report on his passing
Live Performance of Serenade for the Renegade

2008-06-08T14:52:00.000-07:00

Best Man Speech

I recently had to give a speech at my friend's wedding as one of two best men. Here it is:

This is my first ever speech as a best man at a wedding and well, depending upon how it goes, potentially the last. You'd think being being a lawyer I might be good at this kind of thing but unfortunately it doesn't prepare you. By the way, no one is allowed to jump up and yell "objection" while I am talking.

Raj also emplored me yesterday to say something that would paint him in a good light and thus I had to throw out about half of what I wrote and write something presentable. The bill is in the mail Raj. The bill is in the mail and my rates aren't cheap.

Like other best men before me, I will open with a few thoughts from famous writers and philosophers on the nature of love.

The prominent American journalist and writer Ambrose Bierce once wrote that the definition of love is "a temporary insanity, curable by marriage" while Rita Rudner wrote "I love being married. It's so great to find one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life."

One of my favorite lines comes from my father. My father joked with Raj earlier this year. He said to Raj, "They say that until you are married you are incomplete. After marriage you are finished."

But my favorite quote on love and marriage comes from an unknown author. This person wrote "Once in a while, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale." Seeing the Arti and Raj together sometimes makes me feel like we're all experiencing a fairy tail together right now.

I've known Raj for about 6 years now and during that time he and I have engaged in so many misadventures that it feels like I've known him for 12 years. I would tell you more but Raj has sworn me to secrecy. All I can say is Raj, the invoice in mail.

We met during our mid twenties, which is a tremendous time for guys to bond because its the time in which we're all single and in search of discovering our fortunes in life. Together with Raj, Sammi, Errol and Dale, our quintet of good friends have weathered some amazing times.

Clearly Raj has always been among one of my most impressive friends. He's smart, ambitious, and charming. A real go-getter.

But one thing has always struck me about Raj...he epitomizes the twin virtues of friends and family. No matter what, Raj always seems to find the time spend with you. He's always there for you when you need a supportive voice, and he'll fight for on your behalf when you need it. Maybe thats because he understands that there is an artificial distinction between friends and family. Maybe its because he understands that friends are family as well. He is, in essence, truly the epitome of a good friend.

And now he takes on a new role, that of husband. This reminds me of a good joke:

Through a scheduling mix up, a man and a woman who have never met before find themselves in the same sleeping carriage of a train. It's late, the train is full, and everyone else is already asleep. After the initial embarrassment, they both manage to get to sleep; the woman on the top bunk, the man on the lower.

In the middle of the night the woman leans over and says, "I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm awfully cold and I was wondering if you could possibly pass me another blanket."

The man leans out and, with a glint in his eye, says, "I've got a better idea ... let's pretend we're married."

"Why not," giggles the woman.
"Good," he replies. "Get your own blanket."

***

Jokes aside, Raj is one of my dearest and best friends, and Arti is one amazing woman. I've always wondered what kind of woman might catch Raj's eye in the long haul of life and Arti has exceeded all expectations. She is a welcome addition to our family of friends and I am certain further adventures await all of us together. Almost every time we speak, Raj has gushed about how amazing she is and how happy he is with her.

I'll end with two last quick quotes on marriage:

Rita Rudner wrote: "I think men who have a pierced ear are better prepared for marriage. They've experienced pain and bought jewelry."

and lastly Henry Drummond wrote:

"You will find as you look back upon your life that the moments when you have truly lived are the moments when you have done things in the spirit of love."

**fin**

2008-05-15T15:31:00.001-07:00

Definitions

Ok, as lawyers, we do tend to get hung up on getting definitions down first. Here is a good quote why:

In the first place, Herodotus, you must understand what it is that words denote, in order that by reference to this we may be in a position to test opinions, inquiries, or problems, so that our proofs may not run on untested ad infinitum, nor the terms we use be empty of meaning. For the primary signification of every term employed must be clearly seen, and ought to need no proving; this being necessary, if we are to have something to which the point at issue or the problem or the opinion before us can be referred.

Epicurus (c.341-270 BC), Letter to Herodotus

2007-10-22T13:35:00.000-07:00

"What is the meaning of life? To be happy and useful."
- His Holiness the Dalai Lama

There was never yet an uninteresting life. Such a thing is an impossibility. Inside of the dullest exterior there is a drama, a comedy and a tragedy.
- Mark Twain

Is it so small a thing
To have enjoy'd the sun,
To have lived light in the spring,
To have loved, to have thought, to have done...
- Matthew Arnold

The Grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for.
- Allan K. Chalmers

It has been a theme of my experiences these past thirteen months of to consider how life should be lived, or rather, how I should live my life.

I should think that early in these experiences, the need for fresh adventure, change, to throw off the cobwebs of my perspective and patterns of my behaviour were most important to me. My life became regularly shaken and disrupted many ways--the people I interacted with, the food I ate, what time I wake and sleep, how I even saw myself within the context of the world were changed. Over time, I increasingly found myself questioning how I should live my life.

But how should life be lived? Errol has spent some time reading philosophers such as Seneca and Socrates on these issues and I may follow in his footsteps for more answers but for now, experience has helped me consider this question with a far greater personal precision than any reading could. After all, this is my life, and no one can tell me such a thing as what it should be but me.

In considering this question, I think of our motivations for succeeding in life and for most, this question often relates to money, prestige or security. Certainly, security and money have been motivators for so many I have met on this trip--security and money enable one to both live one's dreams but also enable one to protect one's family and friends from life's many troubles.

Many of my friends also take enjoyment from the achievement of prestige. The rank of their law school, their position in their organization, the degree of status of their social networks, the number of staff they oversee, their youthful age in relation to the seniority of their position, and the degree of their responsibility are items of interest they enjoy relating to others.

Others seek adventure and novel experience as items important in themselves. Certainly I have subscribed to this position in the past and am far less motivated by prestige and money than by the attaining the understanding of life that varied experiences provide. I have found myself simultaneously envious of the life of excess and sexual freedom of partygoers in Berlin and of the single minded dedication of the elite athletes I have known. Both experiences are mutually exclusive but choices must be made and life is like that.

Still other of my friends see the seeking of adventure and experience as self serving and seek personal fulfillment through a life of purpose whether that means through a life of service to others (for example to a charity, or to a cause or to humanity in some way) or to an ideal (whether that be to human rights, artistic ideals etc).

Many of my friends, find security to be a motivator in itself--the chance to keep friends and family protected. They yearn for money to preserve and protect their ability to spend quiet and good times with their loved ones. Modest rather than dangerous or glamourous experiences in exchange for succesful and strong relationships.

***

Of course, rarely is it such that a human being is so simple that they fall into only one of those qualities above. Prestige and money are often linked hand in hand, whilest the need for security can greaten as one ages.

Also, many I have met, and some whom I have admired greatly, deceive themselves and do themselves a disservice. They voice their ambitions in the name of security while prestige has been their true motivating factor. Others I have known truly believe that their personal relationships are most important to them, whilest they let those relationships whither and die, too occupied in their attaining of prestige.

I make no judgements here, as these are all personal choices, other than to know oneself and be true. I find self deception in both myself and others to be a personal irritant and despise hypocrisy (some self loathing must be applied here).

However, it seems to me, that without one having any thoughts on this matter, one's own life could be truly without purpose, or potentially worse, one might completely realize that one was not proceeding in the lines of one's own values. Does one truly value experience if one spends all of their time at work? Does one truly value truly value relationships if they do not spend the time to reinvigorate them? Does one really care of love if they chiefly spend their time in search of physical relationships? Does one really value health if they eat food they know is not good for them? Does one really care of virtue if they cheat? Does one care of morals if they engage in activities that they themselves would consider immoral? [Please, anyone reading this, do not think I am talking of you when reading this, for I clearly level these questions at myself more than anyone else. These questions are meant for self reflection above all.]

These questions are difficult to face, and there are many ways to distract ourselves from them: shopping, sex, gadgets, and the trivialities of living in a consumerist society. Some of the most dedicated people I have met who have attained great successes in prestige and money and sometimes even purpose, have spent inordinate amounts of time and money in search of things to buy or movies to see, in avoidance of these questions. I have met both lawyers and business people (high money and great prestige) and successful, dedicated activists (great prestige and great purpose) who seemed one dimensional, and absent the single-minded nature of their pursuits (no matter how succesful), profoundly unhappy with their lives on deeper levels and uncomfortable in their own skins. It seems to me, whatever path is chosen, sacrifices are made, and acceptance and a cogniscience of those sacrifices make those choices easier to bear. It seems to me one of the great ironies in life that the most successful people are not necessarily the most happy. It is those who have truly learned their core values and made their life choices in line with those values that seem the most at calm with themselves.

***

Thus, I conclude to myself, that however trite it sounds, the most important thing in life is to know yourself.

If I have learned to understand myself a little more in these last thirteen months, it has been a truly worthwhile experience.

2007-09-14T09:25:00.000-07:00

My time on the Road Draws to a Close

Sometimes when I'm feeling a bit lonely in this amazing city, I close my eyes and remember the people I've met and the experiences I've had.

I'm not the same person I used to be.

I've been changed.

My body bears this fact most proudly. My midsection is still covered from the bites of hundreds of bedbugs from the Bohemian hostels of Budapest. My right thigh holds a dark scar where I was once impaled by wood whilst running in the hills of Thailand.

And I think to myself,

God damn. I need to do this one more time.

***

Sometimes, while I'm waiting for my subway train to arrive in DC's metro system, I'll close my eyes and I'll feel them tear up as I remember, as though it was yesterday. I'll remember...

...dancing in the early hours of the morning with hundreds of people at a music festival in Serbia, the sun rising as everyone moves in unison. Hundreds of people communing together to music in a castle to celebrate a shared resistance to a horrible conflict. Warm sunlight on my sweaty, happy body.

...warm, sunny, happy long days on a patio with good friends drinking wine at Vespa cafe in Budapest. Living as though those days would never end.

...pain in my quads burning as we marched across the Himalayas, the sunlight and the freshness of the air against my skin, hearing the prayer flags waving against the wind...

...the tension of my stomach as I got ready to play piano at this jazz club in Vietnam and that feeling of release as I relaxed and the music began to flow...

...looking deep into the eyes of this woman who is very special to me, our bodies entangled in the warm comforters in this attic in Amsterdam, the rain falling on the rooftop overehead, knowing time was fleeting and treasuring every moment....

2007-08-27T17:57:00.000-07:00

Watching the News in DC

Oddly enough, despite being in Washington DC, surrounded by a very cosmopolitan group of professionals from around the world, I still feel somewhat out of the action. Someone I care very much about is in Africa right now and is dealing with difficult conditions. Meanwhile, I'm watching 4 hrs of fox news on 6 to 8 dogs dying because a former NFL star Michael Vick used to engage in dog fighting. No wonder most Americans can't tell their ass from their face when it comes to international affairs. its kind of depressing when you pick up USA Today and the sports section is larger than the news section.

No matter.

I have to make the most of this opportunity and experience one of the most remarkable cities in the US as best I can.

2007-08-23T15:49:00.000-07:00

Is it me or is DC a bit Abnormal?

"We must stop talking about the American dream and start listening to the dreams of Americans."
- Max Beerbohm (Author)

"No lower can a man descend than to interpret his dreams into gold and silver."
- Kahlil Gibran (Author)

To be honest, at first I felt a bit depressed to be back in North America where the often true cliche has our louder, more abrasive cousins to the north more ignorant of world affairs, self obssessed, and undertraveled. I remembered long conversations overseas with New Yorkers trying to explain to me how words should "properly" be pronounced (I'm sorry, I did'n't realize English was an invention of New York City), or of Americans more interested in the status culture of the elite ('which law school did you go to?') than of the world around them.

Well fuck me. Washington DC has me flabbergasted. This place is unreal.

Everyone here apparently is not only open in outlook, but exceptional in some way. Ok. Not eveyrone. That would be impossible, but this place continues to surprise me.

For example, one night I ended up going to a pretty underground club here in DC. Its 3am and I end up chatting to a cute, mid 20s and very petite blond girl in fishnet stockings on the sidewalk who is waiting for her boyfriend (the DJ) to pack up his shit. Typical situation in any city really. Well, with a difference. I'm just trying, with little success, to hail a cab and we start talking about my trip around the world and how I would love to work for the UN. Well, she just came back from two years in Palestine working for the UN teaching organic farming techniques.

Ok that has to be an odd case right? Wrong.

My landlady who who I'm currently subletting a room from. She teaches meditation and is a petite brunnette in her early 30s. Her demeanor is very peaceful and calm with beautiful large eyes that suggest a depth of complexity she chooses not to reveal. Ahh, that suggestion would be accurate. Turns out she also did a year in Bolivia with the Peace Corp and is a very accomplished salsa dancer. And, while looking for the toilet paper the other night, stuck in to the bowels of a utility closet, I ran into her massive "invitation only' 3rd place martial arts trophy

Ok.. What the heck is going on here? Or is it that DC isn't full of self absorbed yuppies but instead of a different kind of type A personality. One that sees more to life than a paycheque? In DC?? I'm flabbergasted.

Ok. I need to turn on some American television to reinstall my superiority complex to the cliched American citizen.

Seriously.

I feel very run of the mill around here.

2007-08-21T11:17:00.000-07:00

Oil and Democracy

I was reading this interview on "Democracy Now!" with Thomas Friedman, whose book The Lexus and the Olive Tree I had read earlier this year and found the following possage quite interesting:

THOMAS FRIEDMAN: Thanks for having me. The basic thrust of the film [Addicted to Oil] is that this is not your parents' energy crisis. Now we’re in a totally new world, for four basic reasons. The first is that we're in a War on Terrorism today in which we're funding both sides in the war with our energy purchases. We fund the U.S. Army, Navy and Marine Corps with our tax dollars, we fund Al Qaeda, Islamic Jihad, the regimes that support them, and the charities that support them indirectly, with our energy purchases. So we're funding both sides in the War on Terrorism, and that’s flat out nuts.

Second, the world is flat, I believe, and three billion new consumers just walked on to the playing field from India, China, Brazil, the Soviet Union, all with their own version of the American dream: a house, a car, a toaster, a microwave and a refrigerator. If we don't find an alternative way to satisfy their energy needs and demands, we're going to see this planet burned up, choked up, and smoked up so much faster than people realize. And that leads to the third reason this is not your parents’ energy crisis, which is green technology, clean power. This is going to be the growth industry of the 21st century to satisfy all of these new consumers. And we want America to be a dominant player in that industry. The way we get America to be a dominant player in that clean power industry is not by telling our automakers, our industrialists, “Oh, don't toughen up your standards on energy and fuel efficiency, we don't want you to do anything hard.” That's precisely what will lead to China, Japan and Europe taking the lead in that industry.

Number four of the reasons this is not your parents energy crisis is that we thought the fall of the Berlin Wall was going to be unleashing an unstoppable tide of free markets and free people, and for about 10 years it did just that. But basically, that 10 years was coincident with oil at $20 to $40 a barrel. As oil moved to $40 to $70 a barrel of oil, we've seen the tide of free markets and free people unleashed by the fall of the Berlin Wall, meeting a counter-tide of what I would call petro-authoritarianism. These are authoritarian regimes, some of them elected authoritarians, like in Venezuela, who are using their huge oil windfalls to ensconce their authoritarianism and power. So what are we seeing in the world today? The wave of free markets and free people that was unleashed by the fall of the Berlin Wall is now meeting a counter-wave of petro-authoritarianism, by petrol estates called Russia, Iran, Sudan, Venezuela, Kazakhstan, Equatorial Guinea, you can do gown the list. And they're creating a very poisonous geo-politics.

Of course,the fundamentals of the oil economy mean that, for the meantime, housing prices in Alberta will continue to rise, thus ensuring prosperity for Albertans.

2007-08-20T14:45:00.000-07:00

Life

Another great extract from Smith's book, The Autograph Man:

'What do you want to do, Marvin?' croaked Alex, and then coughed the frog out.

'Excuse me?'

'Apart from being a milk operative. I mean, what do you want to do with your life?'

Marvin eloquently groaned, like a disappointed academic, and slapped his own forehead. 'I tell you something, yeah? Das an idiot's question, yeah? Life is going to do things to me. And that's all there is. And it's all good. Yogurts?'

'No, no .. just milk'

2007-08-19T12:03:00.000-07:00

Zadie Smith, The Autograph Man

One of the most recent books I made my way through was Zadie Smith's The Autograph Man, which features a number of characters that are Asian - Jewish. One of the characters tells this great joke, which I adored:

The Joke about the Pope and the Chief Rabbi

Several centuries ago, the Pope decreed that all the Jews had to leave Italy. There was, of course, a huge outcry from the Jewish community, so the Pope offered a deal. He would have a religious debate with a leader of the Jewish community. If the Jewish leader won the debate, the Jews would be permitted to stay in Italy. If the Pope won, the Jews would have to leave.

The Jewish community met and picked an aged rabbi, Moishe,to represent them in the debate. Rabbi Moishe, however, could not speak Latin and the Pope could not speak Yiddish. Do it was decided that this would be a 'silent' debate.

On the day of the great debate the Pope and Rabbi Moishe sat opposite each other for a full minute before the Pope raised his hand and showed three fingers. Rabbi Moishe looked back and raised one finger.

Next, the Pope waved his finger around his head. Rabbi Moishe pointed to the ground where he sat. The Pope then brought out a communion wafer and chalice of wine. Rabbi Moishe pulled out an apple. With that, the Pope stood up and said, 'I concede the debate. This man has bested me. The Jews can stay.'

Later, the cardinals gathered around the Pope, asking him what had happened. The Pope said, 'First I held up three fingers to represent the Trinity. He responded by holding up one finger to remind me that there was still one God common to both our religions. Then I waved my finger around to show him that God was all around us. He responded by pointing to the ground to show that God was also right here with us. I pulled out the wine and the wafer to show that God absolves us of our sins. He pulled out an apple to remind me of Original Sin. He had an answer for everything. What could I do?'

Meanwhile, the Jewish community crowded around Rabbi Moishe, asking what had happened. 'Well,' said Moishe, 'first he said to me, "You Jews have three days to get out of here." So I said to him, "Not one of us is going to leave." Then he tells me the whole city would be cleared of Jews. So I said to him, "Listen here, Mr Pope, the Jews ... we stay right here!"'

'And then?' asked a woman.

'Who knows?' said Rabbi Moishe, 'We broke for lunch.'

2007-08-16T10:19:00.000-07:00

I feel like so much has happened to me in the past 11 months, and continues (as I am here in DC doing a fellowship in international environmental law) I want to get some it down in more detail, yet its hard to even begin. At this point, when I close my eyes, I can imagine some of those amazing moments from my trip. I want to get some of them down in detail before too long passes. To that end, I'm going to include a few short paragraph descriptions of them here in my blog over the next several weeks.

In the meantime, I just loved this quote from a Faithless song (Part II of "I want more"):

"I want more...
More oneness, less categories,
Open hearts, no strategies.
Decisions based upon faith and not fear.
People live right now and right here.
I want the wisdom that wise men revere."

2007-08-11T11:23:00.000-07:00

Zadie Smith, The Autograph Man

One of the most recent books I made my way through was Zadie Smith's The Autograph Man,
which I found incredibly touching and with a lot of insights into the male psyche. She is just too talented (and fantastically good looking too if you have ever seen a picture of her).

There are several passages worth noting but this is one my favourite and takes place with the main character as a child watching a wrestling match with his friends and father:

Here we go. Last November, when Li-Jin's suspicions are confirmed, when he is properly diagnosed, he is forced to learn the fact that he is ill like a human being rather than like a doctor. At first, he takes it as a doctor, studying the pictures with another doctor, calmly pointing his finger at the mass; tutting with all the impatience of familiarity as the treatment options are outlined. But a few days later it enters him
as a terrible human fact, and leaves by way of a tiny, strained yelp in the night which Sarah mistakes for the cat. He clutches the duvet and presses his knees into the back of hers as if she could keep him here, just by proximity, by means of her own enviable health. In response to the obvious question he tells her heartburn and then turns his eyes to the wall and watches the corner arcs of light from passing traffic climb from over the window over the ceiling and then draw in towards them both like a series of embraces. Sarah goes back to sleep. He watches the arcs for about twenty minutes. After that, still agitated, he gets up and pads down the corridor to Alex's room, looks in briefly and then progresses to the kitchen, where he puts two processed chicken slices on a single piece of unbuttered bread, calls it a sandwich and switches on the TV. He stands in the middle of the kitchen half naked (bottom half) and manages three minutes of the BBC test card. The girl. The rag doll. Then he weeps, the sandwich over his mouth to suppress the noise, gulping from his throat like an animal. The death-punch, the infinity-slap, strikes him so hard he falls on to a stool and has to grip the edge of the breakfast bar just to stay upright. He is thirty-six years old.

...

The bell rings! Here we go! And the first thing that happens is that everyone in attendance realizes that the betting has been pointless. As
a wise guy once said, wrestling isn't a sport, it's a spectacle, and you can't bet on it any more than you can bet on the outcome of a performance of Oedipus Rex. Of co\urse Big Daddy will win! How could it be otherwise? Look at him! He wears a big red Babygro, he is ruddy-faced, he is white-haired, he is more famous. Not that Giant Haystacks will lose - he will win too, just by playing his part to its
fullest. The more of a bastard he is, the more the audience loves it. When he pursues Big Daddy to the ropes in illegal revenge for a successful hold, when he delivers a forearm smash after the whistle and behind the referee's back (though in full view of half the audience), they will jeer him with glee. When he lifts up his arms, roars and throws back his head like a beast - the International Gesture for YOU STUPID FOOLS, DID YOU EXPECT ME TO PLAY FAIR? - the whole of Albert Hall rocks and shakes. In every way he is vicious and sneaky and underhand, Big Daddy is honest and firm and suffering unduly. When Big Daddy is helped to his feet by the referee and shakes his head and puts his arms out towards the front row imploring them to take note of the outrageous injustice of having one's head stamped on, Giant Haystacks stalks up to this same front row and shakes his fist at them: JUSTICE! YOU TALK OF JUSTICE? I AM SIMPLY THE MIRROR OF THE WORLD AND THE FACT IS, THE WORLD IS MEAN! PEOPLE ARE CRUEL AND DEATH COMES TO ALL! YOU DO NOT LIKE TO LOOK AT ME BECAUSE I AM UGLY, BUT I AM THE AWFUL TRUTH! All this in a shaken fist. Every movement is excessive. Big Daddy does not just thump, he THWACKS, Giant Haystacks does not simply fall to his knees, he COLLAPSES. This is not boxing and there is no heroism in hiding your suffering. LOOK AT ME! LOOK HOW I SUFFER! says Giant Haystacks with his upper body. CAN IT BE THAT GOOD WILL WIN OUT DESPITE MY EVIL POWER? Big Daddy trips him and holds him, and the tiny ref in the dapper white suit skips to the scene to begin the count ... but it is not quite time for the triumph of Good over Evil, not yet. Everyone's paid their four pounds ninety-nine and half pence, after all...

...

All of a sudden they run at each other once more and if you have a better phrase than LIKE THUNDERING ELEPHANTS insert it here [ ]. Giant Haystacks wallops Big Daddy across his flank., trips him and then stamps on his face WITH HIS FEET, BOTH OF THEM (''See!' say Rubinfine and Adam to each other at exactly the same time), in response to which Big Daddy waits for the count to reach two, then 'picks himself up off the floor' (and it's these FUNDAMENTAL cliché’s that wrestling is made for), stands up and shakes his head around like he’s just drunk something that made him a bit woozy. As if to say: COR, THAT WAS A HEAVY ONE.

And of course it's ridiculous, but the thing is, they are not here to express genuine feelings, or to fake them and dress them up NATURAL like on TV -- they are here to demonstrate ACTIONS. And all the kids KNOW that. Any fool can tell a story - can't they? - but how many can DEMONSTRATE one, e.g. THIS IS WHAT A STORY IS, MATE, WHEN IT'S STRIPPED OF ALL ITS SENTIMENT. This afternoon these two hulking men are here to demonstrate Justice. The kind Mr Gerry Bowen [Block M, Seat 117] can't get from the courts in compensation for his son's accident; the kind Jake [Block T, Seat 59] won't get from school whether he chooses to squeal on those bastards or not; the kind Finn [Block B, Seat 10] can't seem to get from girls no matter what changes he makes to his wardrobe or record collection or personal hygiene; the kind Li-Jinn [Block K, Seat 75] can't get from God.

2007-06-26T04:05:00.000-07:00

Something lights a match...

Quote from Stephen Vincent Benet's 'john Brown's body':

We can fail and fail,
But deep against the failure, something wars,
Something goes forward, something lights a match...

I just enjoy those lines immensely and needed somewhere to save them.

2007-06-25T15:50:00.000-07:00

"Men Live by Lies."

Not having ever spent this much time in Europe (after only having travelled to Paris, London, Prague and Dublin prior to this trip), I find myself observing the subtle differences in European cultures sometimes only a few kilometers apart and searching for tools and paradigms from which to understand why their differences.

One quote from Kaplan's book, An Empire Wilderness: Travels into America's Future, reasonated with me:

"Europeans with their intimate experience of occupation, annihilation, and the passing of one political order after another-monarchy, facism, communism-know intuitively about historical change. They know how fighteningly adaptive human behaviour can be and how some of a society's most cherished assumptions can shift-cruelly-if necessary--to acoommodate new circumstances. They know that no society is permanent and, as D.H. Lawrence put it, that "Men live by lies." (p. 19)

This idea that a society's most cherished ideals can dissolve and change as circumstances require is one to which I am exposed to constantly. Seeing the former Nazi sites, and reading of the wartime experiences of places like the Netherlands and Poland showed how formerly open socities can turn on their own minorities and permit the degradation of a society into a morass of indifference and attrocities. Moreover, one need only look to Poland, Czech Republic, and former DDR Germany to see how quickly former communist societies can become aggressively capitalistic. In fact, arguably more so than even in traditional capitalist societies such as Canada. The malls and department stores in Krakow and Warsaw are decidedly more upscale and impressive than those I have seen in Toronto or Montreal.

Could this European resignation to the impermanent nature of society, adaptability to change, and history of occupation help explain the traits of the cultures to which I have visited? Could this, in part, help explain European differences in culture from that of the Southeast Asian, African and Indian cultures to which I have visited?

2007-06-25T07:32:00.000-07:00

Caving in Budapest

The brochure for "Caving Under Budapest" at the hostel (and recommended by Tunde, who runs the Homemade Hostel at night) indicated:

Hungary's capital, Budapest, is famous for its themral water all over the world. Many people visit our famous thermalbaths but only a few of them know, that these hot water rushing up from the depth created something else, too. In the limestone mountains, under Budapest, the thermalwater formed huge cavesystems, which as it is supposed can be longer than 100km.

The spas and caves of Budapest are planned to be declared a part of the UNESCO World Heritage. The longest cave of Budapest is the 19 kilometers long PálvögyiMátyás Hegyi cave system located in the area of the Duna-Ipoly National Park. it is a real multi-level labyrinth-system with most of its chambers reaching under the elegant residential districts of the city.

If you haven't got claustrophobia and you are sporty enough, you can apply for our permanently starting cavetours, which are guided by qualified cavers.

Well the pictures and the description did not do justice to how intense that caving trip was! Our guide noted that he was going to take us on a faster and more intense route than the other groups. He was definitely a serious caver with his very 'seen it all' demeanor and chainsmoking habits. He was not only a serious caver and climber, he has both taught caving as well as led caving expeditions (some as long as a week underground). We were in good hands.

The experience itself was incredibly intense. At moments we would look at the small tunnels we'd be expected to negotiate through (some barely larger than a toilet) and think to ourselves 'You have GOT to be kidding'. At one point, one of the cavers got stuck in this upside down V tunnel that you had to negotiate sideways and there was a hint of panic in her voice as she struggled. And at the very end, we were told we had to negotiate the last parts of the caves with no lights whatsoever, feeling our ways around on hands and knees, sometimes on our bellies. An amazing experience.

2007-06-24T06:15:00.001-07:00

A Quote for this Entire Trip

Truth resides in a panoramic rather than a local view of events.

Polybius, a Greek statesman, 2nd Century BC.

2007-06-24T05:52:00.000-07:00

Successful Indians in Tanzania

[I'll have to redate this entry to one of the Tanzania dates.]

One of the things that has been interesting along the course of this trip is seeing how cultures have collided. Certainly, one of the cultures that has been widespread in its ability to succeed overseas has been that of subcontinental India.

For example, the very entrepreneurial Indian culture has managed to become both very opportunistic and successful in Tanzania. On more than one occasion, I have met Indian entrepreneurs in Tanzania who have done extremely well.

I've been readin this book by Robert D. Kaplan, An Empire Wilderness: Travels Into America's Future in which h travels across more isolated parts of the United States, and in the process learns of the fragmentation of America along lines of race, class, education and geography. He makes an interesting note from one of his encounters with an Tanzanian of Indian descent.

Take zaheer Virji (an alias), a twenty-seven-year-old ethnic Indian immigrant from the East African nation of Tanzania. Zaheer wore a blue velvet baseball cap, a white T-shirt, jeans, and running shoes when I met him and his American wife, Heather, in a Santa Monica hotel lobby. Zaheer's family, which imports goods from HOng Kong to Tanzania, is part of a merchant community from the Indian subcontinent that forms the middle class in Tanzania and several other African counttries. Zaheer remembers police thugs of the former Tanzanian president Julius Nyerere harassing his relatives and arreesting his parents. he told me that race relations are "so much better" in sothern California than Africa, where Indians and Africans completely stereotype each other. "I came here to escape not just from Africans but Indians, too" He first went to England, then to Canada, where there are large Indian communities. But he didn't feel free. "In those places, the community is what is happening. Here in the U.S., it's you that is happening. There is less of system here, fewer laws to restrict you."

Zaheer came to the United States six years ago and has no college degree or green card yet. In the previous six months he had earned more investing in the stock market than his wife had made at her job, a reflection not only of his skill but of an economy where the prices of stocks and other assets have risen but wages have not. With this money, along with funds from his family in Tanzania, he was looking to buy a business: a flower shop, a gas station, whatever he can get the best deals on. He is using a broker. If he buys a gas station, he told me, he needs to know about the underground tanks and the environmental regulations. He wants to be partners with the current owner for a three-year transition period; that way he will still keep some of his money even if the business does not turn out as advertised. Ten years from now, he explained, he wants to be the owner of a small business with good employees so he can spend his time investing the profits in the stock market. "Everything is a risk. A few years ago, to make some money, I bought a hundred and fifty tons of rice in Tanzania and sold it in Zaire. That was more risky than buying a business in Los Angeles, I can tell you."

Robert D. Kaplan, An Empire Wilderness, p. 82.

The very ruthless entrepreneurial culture of India, and its focus on family to the exclusion of niceties to strangers, has bred contempt from many of the locals in Tanzania (and a few of the other countries I have travelled to). Nevertheless, I certainly admire their willingness to take risks to succeed.

2007-06-23T15:56:00.000-07:00

Dubai, Orange County

I was reading Kaplan's thoughts on Orange County in his book An Empire Wilderness: Travels into America's Future, and my thoughts turned to Dubai. He wrote:

"In superaffluent Orange County (where household wealth is much higher than the national average and poverty far below) we have clearly moved to a stage of economic development that encourages an obsession with oneself. Machseski [Dennis Macheski is a real estate consultant based in Orange County who spoke with Kaplan] had told me that despite Orange County's wealth, "there is almost no philanthropy here." Tocqueville saw religion and patriotism, but primarily religion, as the adhesive in a democratic society no longer kept together by external authority. Noting the deathly silence, the absence of public police, the prevalence of private security, I wondered if perhaps Tocqueville had been too optimistic, for these people were surely patriotic and many of them must have been religious. But Tocqueville also wrote, "Despotism is more particularly to be feared in democratic ages" beacuse it thrives on self-absorption and desire for personal security that equality fosters. Indeed, the Fashion Island Mall reminded me of rigidly controlled interiors imagined by science fiction writers of the 1950s.

Self-absorption also encourages fantasy. Alladi Venkatesh, of the Management School at the University of California, Irvine, descriptes the Nordstrom store at nearby South Coast Plaza as "both a shopping complex and a fantasy land," where a shopper can try on a pair of Italian shoes while a live pianist plays Chopin. I saw similar scenes at the mall here. The pursuit of physical comfort and high fashion, now so much more widely available than in the past, means that the threatening and unsightly poor are kept out of sight; hence the growth of the social-and-income-exclusive residential areas, just as I had seen in the Midwest. The pursuit of style, whether in art, architecture, or the flesh, may be the ultimate goal of the good life as these people conceive it. But its side effect is social fragmentation.

Libertarianism, which largely describes the politics of many Orange County residents, is the ideological counterpart to such fragmentation, favoring individual choice on such social issues as abortion and marijuana use, along with fiscal conservatism and lower taxes. Libertarians say, "Leave mealone to live my life and don't bother me with the cost of helping less fortunate citizens." Fashion Island Mall suggested how the urban pods I had seen in Johnson County, western St. Louis and western Omaha could one day be as aesthetically agreeable as they already were economically efficient, but I wondered whether the new urban civilization evinced by this mall could foster traditional patriotism or civic virtue."

Certainly, gate community oasis of upperclass society exist in North America, and frequently too I have seen, in Africa (in the form of elaborate shopping complexes) and India (gated hotel and shopping communities in Delhi and Mumbai), but it is Dubai the most which seems to elaborate on this concept. I cannot speak to whether or not Dubai citizens practice philanthropy, or whether their tax base is used to help their less fortunate, but certainly, in culture, it ranks as a kind Fashion Island Mall apart from its neighbours.

2007-06-23T04:01:00.000-07:00

Race Relations

Racial relations has been something I have found quite fascinating over the course of this trip. [Certainly its been somewhat fun watching Errol agonize over being identified as Índian on a regular basis.] Recently though, in India, at a kabob stand in Berlin, I found myself talking to the vendor. The conversation went along the following lines:

The Vendor asked me: "You are from where?"

"I'm from Canada", I replied.

"No. No. You are not from Canada. You are from Japan, or China or somewhere..." The vendor then started pointing at his skin.

"Well my father is from Hong Kong and my mom is from the Philippines. I'm from Canada though. I'm a Canadian."

"No.NO!! You are not Canadian!", said the Vendor, geting more exasperated.

"Yes I am, in fact I don't even speak Chinese or Filipino", I replied cooly. I was working through the arguments in my head over what he felt were the traits of feeling belonging to a culture. I know, for example, in Quebec, language is one of the essential determinants of culture.

"No? Hmm.." He started to weaken a bit in his position. I was somewhat of a puzzle to this man.

"In fact, I speak a little French instead." I added.

At that point, another customer who had been listening piped in, "See he is Canadian. He speaks French!" Of course I was exagerating a bit, my command of the French language is still weak at best.

What I took from that encounter, is this idea of a multicultural society is not as widespread as one might think. I found this espcially surprising in Western Europe, which I had assumed was very pluralistic with its large Turkish populations, and the influx of international business and tourism from around the world.

***

Another more startling example was from a conversation I had with a black taxi driver one night in Vienna.

"Where are you from?" I asked, hoping he was from Southeast Africa, so that I could practice my meagre knowledge of swahili.

"I am from Nigeria, but I have lived in Vienna for sixteen years. But I am thinking of moving to Canada."

"Its great there. But you have to be ok with the cold. It can get very cold where I'm from." This was my standard response to the line of 'I want to move to Canada'.

"Yes, the place is cold but the people are warm. My cousin moved to Vancouver and said how friendly and amazing the people are there. Not like here in Austria, the place is beautiful but the people are cold. They ask me here 'where are you from?' Do you know what they ask me next? 'When are you going back?' What right do they have to ask me that? I have lived here sixteen years and they have no right to ask me that. I can't believe I have wasted so much of my life here. I want to go to Canada."

To be fair, I found Vienna much more multiculturally diverse and integrated than I expected. I saw many Black, Indian, an Asian people here and interracial couples seemed to be not uncommon here. Moreover, I have not found the Viennese to be unfriendly. I have met quite a few locals here who have been both helpful and welcoming.*

These conversations, and others I have here, drive home to me how lucky Canadians are to live in a society that is truly multicultural in ideology (if not always in reality). After sixteen years, that taxi driver was still not yet accepted as being Austrian. In Canada, I do not believe that would be case. The Berliner I spoke with did not even seem to understand the concept of multiculturalism.

I note the experience of Robert Kaplan visiting Canada from his book, An Empire Wilderness: Travels into America's Future (which I have cited often in this blog). His experience of Canada is in one of its most multicultural cities, Vancouver. He wrote:

"Vancouver has something special, a cohesiveness evinced by the never-empty streets and interracial couples: people would fight for this, I thought. No one would fight for Orange County." (p 321).

If Vancouver's cohesive and multicultural life is indicative of Canada's open and welcoming cultural life, then we have much to be thankful for.

[* In fact, last night one local Viennese woman kissed me, while another Viennese bought me a drink and asked me to teach them Canadian drinking songs (his were mostly traditional German drinking songs or American pop songs with adapted xrated lyrics).]

2007-06-20T14:11:00.001-07:00

So many things left undone.

I suppose, barring the fact that I'm currently travelling (seeing the sights, etc)and also rethinking career related matters along the way. There are a couple of things I wish I had time to do while travelling I often find myself thinking to. If only I had time to both see the world and also time to set aside for the following things:

1. Practice Practice Practice.

I seriously need to get some piano practice done. I need to work on memorizing standards, basic work on chops, and chord variations over the circle of 5ths sequence. I got my ass handed to me at a jam session in Krakow (the leader of the session, although there were Real Books there, refused to let anyone use one). A stark reminder that, although I'm fairly accomplished, there are some basic things I need to sit down and woodshed.

2. Get my ass back in shape.

I went for a run today for half an hour and it was pathetic. Mind you, I'm suffering from food poisoning right now and it was about 35C here, but I've run in worse conditions. My form was abysmal and so was my turnover. My upper body conditioning has never been that great (except perhaps when I was in Karate or when I was rockclimbing twice a week religiously several years back), but I've lost a lot. I need to get back into a fitness regime. Plus Death Race is just around the corner...

3. Learn French

This would be so good for my career. I was working on this before I left (twice weekly), but I should consider just going somewhere like French and plopping myself somewhere where English isn't very widespread. I kept wanting to try to work through Le Petit Prince and french movies but just never committed as much as I could have.

2007-06-20T13:40:00.001-07:00

Food Poisoning....so many potential culprits.

I find it incredibly ironic that I have contracted food poisoning in Eastern Europe, considering I never really got much of it across Africa, India, and Southeast Asia. Yet here I am, suffering from stomach cramps in Vienna. What caused it? Was it the beef carpacio (thinly sliced raw beef with sauce), the chicken and rice I had at that sketchy Chinese food restaurant in Prague, or the traditional style goulash I had on the train. So many potential culprits!!! Anyways, I'm on the mend now (I think anyways, this food poisoning stuff can be tricky).

2007-06-19T13:46:00.000-07:00

Arrived in Vienna

I've finally left Prague. phew. Anyways, off to the Wombats in Vienna where I saw Errol's computer printed sign clearly posted asking for the return of his stolen backpack from this very hostel. Two girls apparently lost their backpacks too the other night when they left their room partly open in order to let their friend who has lost her key into the room. They were sleeping when some unknown thief entered and stole their bags. Brutal.

***

Its funny, along the way on the train I was thinking to myself about the many Americans I've met on this trip and the cliches that seem to occasionally be fulfilled.

"Omigooood...I LOOOOOOVE this place....beer is sooo cheeeeep. OMIGOD, look, there are some poor American boys, lets invite them over here." (thick Valley girl California accent)

I kind of smiled to myself when listening to these three 18 year old American girls bouncing up and down at this club called Crossclub. It was the over-the-top reactions that made me laugh. A stark contrast to the more seemingly reserved Czech girls that looked on in disdain at their American counterparts at the bar.

Man:...I ate this burger last night. It was HUGE. So great. Me (interrupting): Hi....where are you guys from? Man: I'm from Kansas!

I was trying to leave the cabin of the train when entering the narrow passageway of the train I saw a long line of rather large men and women in their mid20s standing idly by, trying to get to their respective cabins. They were all, for lack of a better word, very chubby. Many of them wore t-shirts from their respective places, of which I saw Texas and Kansas well represented.

God. I've been travelling and everything is beautiful but I miss home and all. I've been away for two weeks and I can hardly stand it. Athens smells, and the Parthenon was beautiful and all (rolling eyes) but it stinks there. I CAN'T WAIT to get back to New York.

I once read an opinon piece from a travel writer who noted that people who come from big cities tend to have provincial perspectives on the world because they tend to view where they are from as 'the center of the world'. In other words, why travel when you come from the center of the world? Let the world come to you! Oddly enough, people from New York and Toronto seem to often be the primary subjects of these accusations. True or not, occasionally I do find it funny when the cliche is occasionally realized.

2007-06-18T16:30:00.000-07:00

Tired of Living in a Bar

Rant warning: The following is a rant of too much time spent travelling amongst 18-22 year old travellers in Eastern Europe looking to get laid and drunk all the time. It might just be my bad mood right now but I need to get the heck out of this place asap.

I suppose to some extent I'm getting quite tired of living in European hostels. Maybe its about time to get a hotel room for a few nights. Its not that there is anything wrong with the accommodation per se (in fact a lot of the hostels I've been staying at are nicer than the hotels I have had, at far great expense, in other parts of the world). Its just that I miss some sense of privacy. I feel as though I live in a perpetual bar.

Don't get me wrong, if I was 22, and on a four week European summer vacation (i.e. permanent bender), I would be drinking nonstop and trying to pick up women all the time. Well, thats what living in bar is like. Imagine, if you will, your fondest and worst memories of the local 18 something pickup bar. You know, guys everywhere looking for some girl to meet (and getting competitive and progressively louder), drinks flowing nonstop, and tiny teenage girls in tight outfits. Well, thats my life here at the hostel all the friggin time. You wake up in the morning and there are two American guys next to your bed trying to pick up the Canadian girl sleeping below you. You go for breakfast and if you head to the bathroom, the three British guys fight for your seat because its close to the girl who is having breakfast at the table next to yours. Of course, most of their stories involve boasting how drunk they got the night before.

It was fun for awhile, but this is getting old very quickly.

I have met some amazing people at this hostel but a lot of them look at me blankly when I mention the places to which I've been. The vibe here is very different than places like Dahab, Rajastan, etc. The travellers here don't talk about the place per se, but about themselves, all the time. They aren't on a voyage of discovery at all, but a vacation of drinking and sex. Other than this one woman I met yesterday (who has worked in Brazil), I have yet to meet someone who might offer even close to the same level of conversation as Ben (Nepal), Adam (Egypt), Chris (Thailand), Toni (Tanzania) or Steph (Nepal). In fact, most of the travellers I have met here in Czech have not actually even met a single Czech. Seriously. How sad is that?

Ok. I'm done ranting now. I'll finishing getting my shit together and head to Vienna soon. I'm actually considering just heading to France, renting an apartment, and working on my French language skills for awhile.

2007-06-18T08:08:00.000-07:00

This guy is amazing. Forget Nerve. KJ Sawka does it better.

This guy could be my new musical hero. He is a percussionist who does drum & bass live and barely needs any kind of complex mic'ing system. He does it simply and cleanly. This guy is amazing. Check out his you tube vids:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kp5OxEzxuSg&mode=related&search=
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kp5OxEzxuSg&mode=related&search=

Also worth checking out:

Anders Meinhardt
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M4wtKKU6DIM&mode=related&search=
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hInOciRUV-4&mode=related&search=

2007-06-16T05:51:00.000-07:00

Prague's Underground Arts Techno Live Band Scene
...turns out there is one. Went to this cool function in a basement labyrinth arts space right below my hostel. Open only once a week, there were projectors and 'live' bands playing synths with vocals and a few instruments. In Edmonton, this would have been the scene I would be in, playing gigs like this in hidden clubs or venues. The place was happy and busy. God, sometimes I miss playing in bands and being really part of a scene.

2007-06-13T17:34:00.000-07:00

Note from Jason's body to Jason
Please Sir, I implore you, do not eat any more of that Berlin designed travesty known as the currywurst. It really is horrid for me and all it is composed of is sausage and a horrid curry powder and sauce that bears no resemblemce to any curry known to mankind outside of Germany. While it may be tasty at times, especially after a few beers, do not succumb to this temptation. It just isn't worth it.

2007-06-13T17:10:00.000-07:00

NOTES TO SELF:

1. jindřich štyrskŷ - Saw an exhibition of his in Prague. It was amazing, disturbing, and certainly something that sits with you.

from Wikipedia:

Jindřich Štyrský (August 11, 1899, Čermná u Kyšperka – March 21, 1942, Prague) was a Czech Surrealist painter, poet, editor, photographer, and graphic artist.

His outstanding and varied oeuvre included numerous book covers and illustrations. He also wrote studies of both Arthur Rimbaud and Marquis de Sade. He became a member of Devětsil in 1923, participating in their group exhibitions. Between 1928 and 1929 he was director of the group's drama wing, the Osvobozené divadlo, where he collaborated with Vítězslav Nezval (the dance performance of his poetry collection Abeceda) among others. Štyrský was also an active editor. In addition to his Edition 69 series, he edited the Erotická revue, which he launched in 1930, and Odeon, where many of his shorter texts appeared. He was a founding member of The Surrealist Group of Czechoslovakia.

2. Tacheles - The name of the 5 story complex in Mitte that was amazing, full of art, grafitti and counterculture. The link is at www.tacheles.de. Apparently this place is always on the verge of being torn down.

From Wikipedia:

The Kunsthaus Tacheles is an art center and nightclub that was opened in East Berlin after the Berlin Wall came down in the spring of 1990. Tacheles is a large (9000 square meter) building on Oranienburger Straße in the district known as Mitte. The exterior of the building was damaged from shelling in World War II, and much of the damage was never repaired. Huge, colorful graffiti-style murals are painted on the exterior walls, and modern art sculptures are featured inside.

Tacheles was originally occupied by a number of international artists, performers and musicians before becoming an art centre with a cafe, cinema, performance space, workshops and exhibition space. In the beginning it was run by well-known curator Jochen Sandig who expanded the building considerably. In its early days, Tacheles provided both housing and work space for its artist residents. In 1991, the associated housing burnt down, and there was considerable suspicion that the fire was started deliberately in order to pave the way for a new art centre. Among the early exhibitors were artist Mark Divo, sculptors the Mutoid Waste Company, musicians Spiral Tribe, theatre group DNTT, performance artist Lennie Lee, dancer/ choreographer Sasha Waltz, Ramm Theater, and many others.

Tacheles provided inspiration for a scene in the German film Good Bye Lenin!, according to commentary by director Wolfgang Becker on the US DVD release.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kunsthaus_Tacheles

2007-06-10T21:03:00.001-07:00

Don't Lose Your Soul Jason

You'll want to go home before this Party will be over..." -- American to myself at Panaorama club

Those friends who know me well know that to a large degree, I'm a creature of discipline and routine. Normally I run 4 to 5 times a week (structured training), practice piano, study French, practice law, and have a number of other regular commitments (playing with bands, djs, rehearsals and such). Part of that stems from where I came from. Growing up in St. Albert and Edmonton, let's face it, there's not much to do. It leaves a lot of room for soul searching, and from developing your passions--whether that be drawing, running or practicing piano. I remember spending a lot of evenings as a teenager wandering its very quiet suburbs and streets at night, wishing there was something to do and hoping to escape its confines.

In contrast, here I am now in Berlin, and sometimes I feel like I'm losing control. Last night I went clubbing and left the still packed party around noon. I look in the mirror and sometimes I can barely recognize myself. This place is the polar opposite of Nepal. Spend too long a time in Berlin and you can easily lose yourself.

This city makes Prague look g-rated.

On occasion, I've made the metaphor of cities to women. Berlin is the woman who's pretty (but not gorgeous), wilder than any woman you've ever met (with the exception of maybe that other woman by the name of Bangkok) and somewhat unapproachable in a cool, dispassionate way. She's an artist, but not in that fun hippy kind of way, more in a sort of passionate and aggressive 'I don't care if you get it' kind of way.

I've been somewhat of a search for the 'real Berlin'. This has been difficult as, while I've made some amazing travelling friends, most have a predilection for pub crawls. Pub crawls, in my experience, are inevitably the same; safe and juvenille. Filled mostly with 18 to 22 year guys who are looking for a 'sure way' to meet women in a foreign country. Don't get me wrong, I have had a lot of fun on them, especially when I was in law school or undergard and in a new city. But Berlin doesn't really lend itself to pub crawls--the cool places tend to be underground, spread out, and sometimes quite difficult to get into. Plus, pub crawls only tend to go to places comfortable to foreigners and places that will pay tour operators to allow for 30 to 50 drunk teenagers suddenly arriving. The odd thing is that some places will be amazing on one night (like the Red Chamber in Prague) but then on another night, absolutely suck (pub crawl night). But as places like Tanzania, and India has taught me, sometimes real adventure isn't easy or easily prepackaged.

***

Its saturday night and I found myself dancing at club Panorama. I had gotten there with these two beautiful Australian travellers from my hostel (both of whom refused to do pub crawls) were both serious party goers. They were dressed to kill.

The worn down concrete walls of the disused meat packing plant were reverberating with hypnotic sounds of minimal house, sweeping waves of synths filling the air and sweaty bodies against cheering cries of the dancers and deep dark bass lines. Inside this dark cavernous plant, was this glowing beautiful bar, an obvious irony to the run down nature of the place. This place was amazing. Everything Berlin promised to be. And this was only the smaller room of the club. The larger, more cavernous of the two rooms, featured a more aggressive techno atmosphere, as the huge sweaty, sometimes almost naked crowd danced as though their lives depended on it. As the night went on, the atmosphere felt more sexual, women were kissing women, men were kissing men, and of course, couples were making out everywhere. That was just on the dance floor, who knows what was going on in the many more remote and secretive cubby holes darker corners of the plant.

In the morning, the party continued. I preferred the smaller room, it was more personal and the music less dark, less aggressive, but still so abstract. No funky house or trance build-ups here. The crowd completely committed to dancing. No frat boys or pub crawlers here. Sunlight began to flicker through the blinds yet it only seemed to build the momentum of the crowd. Around 8am more people seemed to continue filtering into the place, some of them with more outlandish outfits. The fashions ranged from very retro Napoleon Dynamite-ish outfits (read: large dorky glasses, short shorts and retro t-shirts) to Versace and haute couture. I wish they allowed cameras inside (you are searched at the door), but the visual scene was spectactular. It felt rough around the edges, gritty and yet glamourous. Visuallly, a crossbreed of those American Apparel photos with Glamour magazine ads.

It felt so anti-commercial, so underground; and yet it happens every weekend.

Berlin makes me weep a little, I think of the many wasted nights spent with my friends driving around in circles looking for something to do. Rented movies and unsatisfied evenings in search of adventure. Yet, would I have run marathons, learned jazz piano or made it through University with such distractions and temptations in easy reach? That notion is difficult to contemplate. I want to explore and experience Berlin from the inside yet I know I'll never be able to really do so. Berlin is no Warsaw; Berliners can be very xenophobic, and unapprochable in a very 'cooler than thou' sense. They appear to detest speaking English and many I've met have no intention of ever experiencing life outside of Berlin. Indeed, I can see why they would think Berlin is the center of the universe; I've spent a few days exploring clubs, cafes, art galleries, and museums of all types and I've barely touched the scene.

I won't even get into it here, but I've also seen clubs here where anything goes. Seriously. Anything.

Yet its also easy to see how one could grow to hate this place. I've met many a Westerner that complains that the unemployment rate here is alarmingly high given the significant social welfare scheme here. Berliners can be alarmingly distant and even downright rude. In fact, I read yesterday that they are known for simply walking away from you if you present a question to them they are not interested in. Still, given the opportunity to live here for a year, I would do so in a heartbeat. Berlin and I would not have an ideal relationship--it would be a love hate relationship, but at least at least it would be an intense one.

Its a matter of preserving your soul and your sanity while living that relationship.

2007-06-09T22:18:00.000-07:00

Arno Nadel(1878-1943). Musician, Poet, Painter.

I found myself incredibly moved by the Jewish Museum. This is from one of the exhibits.

This multi-talented artist was deported to Auschwitz in 1943. In 1942 he noted in his diary:

“My cry is the call of the wounded nightingale.
My pleasure is one with death; it sings all around
me and the few souls who tremble here with me
in despair are as miserable as I am. Who will help
me, who promises to bring me new breath and
good fortune? God ... is the one, let him be
praised. I beg for his grace and favor. He alone
knows the extent of my sorrow and my fear."

2007-06-09T22:03:00.000-07:00

Gertrude Colmar(1894-1943). Lyricist. Disappeared without a trace.

I found myself incredibly moved by the Jewish Museum. This is from one of the exhibits.

This poet was deported in 1943 and probably murdered in Auschwitz. Most of her work, only some of which was published while she was alive, was saved and published after 1945. The poem, “Nachruf” (Obituary) was written sometime between 1937 and 1940.

“I will die, as die so many must
The rake will pass through my demise,
Inscribe my name into the dust
As, empty with no heir in trust,
I’ll see blank clouds with tired eyes,...”

2007-06-09T21:54:00.000-07:00

Tragedies and Hopes

I went to the Jewish Museum today and it affected me deeply. More so than visiting Auschwitz did even. Something seemed to shocking about Auschwitz, yet grotesque and separate from the world we live in. It did not tell a story so much as provide the setting for horrid attrocities.

But the Jewish museum told a story. A tragic and also hopeful one. I learned a lot about the difficulties and contributions of the Jewish people in Germany.

2007-06-09T04:57:00.000-07:00

If you took the designers of Prague, London and Burningman together (if indeed, they did exist), and made them collaborate on creating a city that featured those well planned elements of places like London (a great metro system), Prague (a beautiful touch of the past), and Burningman (super permissive atmosphere, random artistic elements)--you would have something that approximates Berlin.

There is so much to see here, you could spend your days here and never visit the same bar or nightclub twice. I'll write more on Berlin later but all I can say is that I've barely made a dent in the place....

2007-06-03T03:30:00.000-07:00

Old Habits Die Hard

Well I'm truly down about not being able to find my friend Silvie, one person I really want to keep in my life that I, through negligence, failed to keep in touch with. Silvie, if you read this, email me!

***

Last night went and did a pub crawl which was really a big waste of time. That's the last time I do a hostel pub crawl, seriously. 400 Czech Crown to hang out with a bunch of Canadians and Americans and go to bars which are neither 'insider' bars nor have cover charge. Oh well, the people were cool though I suppose and I've made a few friends.

Much more interesting was the White After Party which started at 4am and goes on to 5pm. I left around noon. They party hard here in Czech.

2007-06-02T03:57:00.000-07:00

Last night I found myself wandering Prague's streets in search of a good party. Having decided that I wanted to stay away from the other travellers for awhile I was sort of feeling a bit lonely and partly regretting my decision. What harm would another pub crawl with mostly Ozzies, Uk lads, and other Canadians do anyways?

Anyways, its easy to get swept away in that life of constant partying and drinking. These other travellers are a different breed than the ones you find in India or Africa; they seek not a cultural experience but a mixture of sex, alcohol and good times. They party hard and burn bright for two or three weeks then head back home for the real world. My trip is far longer and If I tried doing what they do I would be out of money, fat, and definitley worse for wear.

Nevertheless, it was Friday night and I wandered the streets thinking--'shoot--everyone is having a good time and here I am by myself'. So I decided to find a bar I used to go to here called the Roxy. Unfortunately the Roxy had a live concert of Gypsy music that was about to end. So I saw a bit of the band and then wandered to another bar called Rouge Chambre.

It was there that I found my party.

All of the musicians from the gig at the Roxy showed up with their instruments and played this tiny bar! Everyone was singing--many of them knew these traditional Gypsy songs and the spirit of the crowd was amazing. I ended up dancing the night away with two Czech women both of whom were named Petra. They were fantastic dancers and showed me a great night out.

Cheers Prague--thanks for taking a ho hum night and turning it into something special.

2007-05-27T07:06:00.000-07:00

You can't always get what you want. You can't always get what you want. You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes well you just might find You get what you need.
-- The Rolling Stones

This will be one of those blog posts that will be deliberately cryptic since I this note is more for myself than the outside world that may or may not be reading my blog.

It was a very interesting weekend so far, not what I had expected or planned at all would happen. Basically what I had planned for was more of the same of my previous weekend, crazy nights out clubbing and dancing lasting until the morning hours. What it turned into instead was far more interesting, emotional, and something which makes me both happy and sad in a bittersweet kind of way. I didn't get what I wanted but I got what I needed. An amazing weekend.

2007-05-26T06:25:00.000-07:00

Values Shifting

Right now I'm sitting in this quiet bar/cafe listening to a Sarah McLachlin trip hop remixes and Esthero tracks in downtown Warsaw. Its a cafe/bar that reminds me of the old Deweys in Hub Mall but quite a bit bigger. I love that feel during the day of a bar, with only a few people there, the music resounding quietly against the wooden floors of an ancient building.

I find that my values have shifted under my feet during the course of this trip. Perhaps its because I have the security of a property in Alberta which is a pretty significant nest egg. But the thought of going home and working in the same desk year after year is becoming more and more bleak in my mind. I find myself feeling more mobile, more free of constraints of security I used to feel that I needed. I'm definitely not the same person I was when I left on this trip.

2007-05-16T03:40:00.000-07:00

"You can sleep upstairs on the couches, one of Poland's best DJs is sleeping there too right now."

I had just spent almost an hour circling the base of this huge tower called the Palace of Science and Culture and arrived two hours late for the posted jam session at a club called Club 55. The club itself was almost impossible to find. Some of the building's security guards and staff hadn't even heard of it. The club door was a single door, behind a security gate, under an archway on the eastern side of the building.

Once inside, up three flights of stairs, it was a gorgeous room, with amazing stonework from the Soviet building. At the time I arrived, they were still setting up and I was exhausted from dancing the previous night. I was almost passing out sitting down when one of the guys noted the alternative of sleeping upstairs on the couches.

By around 10pm the crowd and other musicians finally started wandering in. The crowd was the underground elite of the scene; musicians, djs, bboys and bgirls, and the requisite ''dont hate me because i'm hot and hip" crowd. It was a fun night, and they had a gorgeous rhodes electric piano. The sounds of the band were filtered through a live PA DJ who added effects and EQd everyone as the night went on. At times, he added noise to the sound so it sounded more like I was playing some funky Wurlitzer instead of a Rhodes. The band started strong and alternated between funky house and drumnbass.

A good night.

2007-05-13T12:51:00.000-07:00

It is with an incredibly heavy heart that I leave Dahab.

I have to say that it was one of the best parts of my trip so far. Never in the course of my trip, with the exception of my time in Nepal, have I made so many friends that were stable fixtures in my life. The easy days of watching the waves and thinking about life, diving the Red Sea, drinking and hearing stories from James, dancing at Tota, talking about religion at Rush. Its been an incredible time.

The last Friday in Dahab was crazy. We had drinks at this bar called Adam's Bar (no relation to Adam from California), a rooftop party on the roof of Adam's hotel (with a lot of really cool people), a big party at Rush--complete with fire dancer and a lot of great breaks and techno. Later in the night, Adam got into a fight defending Nicole from a very sketchy Egyptian guy (there are quite a few Egyptian men in Dahab that appear to be unable to take 'no' for an answer from a woman).

The next morning to the next evening, we spent the entire day drinking and eating at Blue Moon restaurant, overlooking the water. There was a lot of laughing, talking, eating, drinking and relaxing. A perfect way to end my time in Dahab.

I'm going to really miss that place and the incredible people I met there.

2007-05-06T15:21:00.000-07:00

Alas our Dahab days are coming to a close.

This has been one of the most relaxed times (despite several existential crisises I've experienced) as I have had a chance to really connect with the local expatriate people here including Adam (Californian and future Floatingman founder), Kate (Englishwoman, photographer and soon to be diver extraordinaire), Andy (bartender, divemaster and former Muay Thai figher), James (Englishman, former lawyer and now brilliant writer), and more. On top of that, there was quite a contingent of Canadians here for some time and it really felt quite--comfortable--is really the best word. To be able to talk about SCTV skits, Rick Mercer, Canadian politics, etc, while in Dahab was amazing. Cheers Dahab, you trapped us here but it was a wonderful time.

2007-05-03T06:13:00.000-07:00

Life on the beach with Holvinania

I spent yesterday just hanging out on the super hot laguna beach in Dahab with traveller extraordinaire Holivania. Hailing from Brazil and a one time model she has some amazing (and occasionally harrowing) travel stories. It was a great day just hanging out on the beach with her, eating sandwiches and talking. A very cool girl really, and man, can she ever dance the Samba.

2007-05-01T09:42:00.000-07:00

Dahab Days continue...

2007-04-29T11:19:00.000-07:00

Thoughts on Globalization and Vietnam

For a lot of this trip, and expectedly so, I haven't had time to really digest what I've been seeing and thinking about in a handy blog form, so when I occasionally get a chance to get some thoughts down on this blog (which is kind of a mixture of diary, message board, and notepad) then I better get them down.

I'm currently in the last stages of finishing off this book by Thomas Friedman, a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist for the New York Times on globalization called "The Lexus and the Olive Tree". The first part of the book was somewhat unimpressive and reminded me of the sort of international business globalization sort of literature that I read coming out of business school The second half is getting much more interesting and considers the rougher, painful and more dramatic aspects of globalization. He is a balanced enough author to consider the difficulties of globalization.

One of the things he does capture well was that feeling of 'hustle and bustle' that Vietnam exudes. It has not only taken the challenges of globalization on, it has embraced it. Here is a quote from his book:

In the winter of 1995, I visited Hanoi. Every morning to get my exercise I
would walk around the pagodas on Hoan Kiem Lake., in the heart of Hanoi, and
every morning I would stop to visit a tiny Vietnamese woman crouched on the
sidewalk with her bathroom scale. She was offering to weigh people for a small
fee. And every morning I would pay her a dollar and weigh myself. It
wasn't that I needed to know how much I weighed. I knew how much I
weighed. (And my recollection is that her scale was not particularly
accurate.) No, doing business with that lady was my contribution to the
globalization of Vietnam. To me, her unspoken motto was: "Whatever
you've got, no matter how big or small--sell it, trade it, barter it, leverage
it, rent it, but do something with it to turn a profit, improve your standard of
living and get into the game."

That lady and her scale embody a fundamental truth about globalization
which too often gets lost in talk of elite money managers, hedge funds and high
speed microprocessors. And it is this: globalization emerges from
below, from street level, from people's very souls and from their deepest
aspirations. Yes, globalization is the product of the democratizations of
finance, technology and information, but what is driving all three of these is
the basic human desire for a better life--a life with more freedom to choose how
to prosper, what to eat, what to wear, where to live, how to work, what to
read, what to write and what to learn. It starts with a lady in Hanoi,
crouched on the sidewalk, offering up a bathroom scale as her ticket to the Fast
World.

In central Hanoi today, every inch of sidewalk seems to be covered by
someone selling something off a mat, out of a trunk or from the shelves of a
storefront. Every inch of road is occupied by people who have traded their
sandals for a bicycle, their bicycle for a motor scooter, their motor scooter
for a Honda Civic, their Honda Civic for a Toyota Camry and, yes, even their
Toyota Camry for the occasional Lexus. Beacuse we tend to think of
globalization as something that countries connect to outside themselves, or
something imposed from above and beyond, we tend to forget how much, at its
heart, it is also a grassroots movement that emerges from within each of
us.

This explains why, along with the backlash against the brutalities,
pressures and challenges fo globalization, there is a groundswell of people
demanding the benefits of globalization. This groundswell is propelled by
millions of workers who have been knocked around by globalization, but who,
nonetheless get up, dust themselves off and knock again on globalization's door,
demanding to get into the system. Because if they have half a
chance, the turtles don't want to be turtles, the left behinds don't want to
remain behind and the know-nots want to know something more. They want to
be lions or gazelles. They want to get a piece of the system, not to
destroy it. (p. 348)

2007-04-28T11:20:00.000-07:00

Another day in Dahab. Its beautiful here. I have a case of the sniffles. Spent last night dancing with these girls from Barcelona and then went to this cool laidback open air lounge called 'Lush' that even features a swimming pool in the lounge (not that I've ever seen anyone in it).

Met this guy Adam who has travelled the world for the past 4 years and also a really cool woman by the name of Kate from the UK (there are lot of UK Kates it seems) who also had a lot of time travelling through India. I really enjoyed meeting them both.

2007-04-26T13:29:00.000-07:00

Whoa! STILL IN DAHAB!!

Well I'm still in Dahab, and Errol is down for the count. He has food poisoning and spent 30 odd hours or so in bed. During that time, he put his one and only bank card in his back pocket and rolled over it during his sleep--thus rendering it useless.

Anyways, we'll have to figure out a way to get him an ATM or VISA card because right now he has no access to cash other than through me. After some of our experiences in India where none of my cards worked but his did, sounds like we should wait until he gets one before moving on to Syria, etc.

Still, Dahab is awesome. Spent last night dancing with girls from Barcelona, met a woman from the south of France, while enjoying amazing food for about $2 a meal and beer for under that. I'm also getting work done on my UN paper and also working on learning Arabic.

2007-04-25T07:40:00.000-07:00

One year ago, this beautiful scuba diving paradise of Dahab, where I am now, was in a very different situation:

Three bombs rip through Egypt resort 'Wicked terrorist attack' kills 23, wounds dozens moreMonday, April 24, 2006;

Posted: 10:25 p.m. EDT
Bystanders examine damage to shops Monday after a
bomb detonated nearby in Dahab, Egypt.(CNN) -- Twenty-three people,
including three foreigners, were killed and 62 others were wounded Monday in
terrorist bombings in the Egyptian Red Sea resort town of Dahab, the Egyptian interior minister said. Habib al-Adly said 42 of the wounded are Egyptian and three are members of the police.

In a written statement, he said the dead included 20 Egyptians and
three foreigners -- a German child and two victims of unknown nationality. (Watch a tourist town littered by bomb debris -- 1:15) The statement said the 20 foreigners who were wounded include three Danes, three Britons, two Italians, two Germans and one each from the United States, France, Korea, Lebanon, Israel and Australia. The nationalities of the other victims were not specified. But in Washington, State Department officials said four Americans are among the wounded. The blasts took place about 7:15 p.m. (1:15 p.m. ET) at two cafeterias and a supermarket. Witnesses reported seeing smoke coming from a market in the Sinai Peninsula town.
Video of the site hours later showed damaged buildings, with sidewalks outside tourist shops and restaurants covered in blood and shattered glass. President Hosni Mubarak called the explosions "a wicked terrorist attack." The resort town was crowded with tourists because of the Easter holiday observed Sunday by the Coptic Orthodox Church of Egypt, as well as other orthodox churches. "There were body parts and debris in the street. ... There are ambulances and cars taking people to hospital," one witness, who refused to be identified, told the Reuters news agency.
"There is smoke coming from the area, and there are people running everywhere," Reuters quoted another witness as saying. One witness, Serge Loussararian of Cairo, told CNN he was about 300 feet away when the explosions occurred. He said the blasts went off in a tourist area in front of hotels, restaurants and bars on the beach. "We heard the three explosions," he said. "It was quite loud." Then, he said, he saw people running. At the time the explosions occurred, he said, the area was "very,
very busy."

After the explosions, Loussararian said, he and those with him are leaving Dahab. He said he has seen several vehicles carrying the injured, as well as people going to donate blood and help the wounded. People hurt in the explosions were taken to hospitals in Dahab and the nearby resort town of Sharm el-Sheikh, state-run Nile Television reported. Mubarak vowed to punish those responsible for the blasts and expressed his condolences to victims' family members, Nile Television said. In July, 67 people were killed and more than 200 others wounded in Sharm el-Sheikh. Egyptian officials believe Bedouin residents of Sinai with connections to al Qaeda were responsible for those incidents. (Full story).
In October 2004, 34 people were killed in attacks on the Sinai resorts of Taba and Ras al Sultan. (Full story) Each of those attacks also involved three explosions. Israeli ambulance services, meanwhile, beefed up their presence on the border with Egypt, and a hospital in Eilat was getting extra blood supplies, officials said. Israeli medical services offered help to Egypt. Chorus of condemnationPalestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas released a statement condemning the terrorist act as "cowardly and criminal" and offering his condolences to Mubarak and the Egyptian people.

Ehud Olmert, Israeli prime minister-designate, called Mubarak to offer
his condolences and those of Israelis. The two leaders discussed the need to
work together to fight terrorism, according to Olmert's office. Israel shares a
border with the Sinai Peninsula.

In Amman, Jordanian government spokesman Nasser Judeh joined the chorus of condemnation, calling the acts "another tragic and horrific example for the
need to have a collective effort of the international community to combat
terrorism." President Bush, at a fundraiser for Rep. Jon Porter in Las Vegas,
Nevada, said, "I strongly condemn the killings that took place." "The innocent
life lost in Egypt is a heinous act against innocent civilians," Bush said. "I
assure the enemy this: We will stay on the offense," he said. "We will not
waiver." Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice said in a written statement that
U.S. officials "have been in contact with the Egyptian government to extend our
condolences and to offer whatever sssistance they may need."

The explosions Monday came one day after an audiotape believed to be
from al Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden denounced a "crusader-Zionist war" against
Islam and held Western citizens -- not just their governments -- responsible.
(Full story) CNN's Ben Wedeman, Caroline Faraj and Michal Zippori contributed to
this report.

Last night I participated in a short prayer and remembrance walk to the victims of the attacks. The man leading the prayers broke up crying, describing seeing hands and feet everywhere, not knowing whose they belonged to. He had many friends who had died that day and wished for peace everywhere between Christians, Muslims and Jews. Afterwards, my two friends Helena and Olga (from Russia) went and smoked some shisha at a close by store where the owner, a 33 year old man, described the 3 day ordeal he had went through this time last year. Driving for three days straight to a Cairo hospital, covered in the blood of his friends, the bodies of his friends in the backseat of his car (some dying on the way, some dying later). You could see the sadness in his eyes.

2007-04-23T10:57:00.000-07:00

Spent most of last night and this morning climbing Mount Sinai with Errol and a bunch of Russian women. It was a two hour climb up the stone steps of the desert mountain, past numerous small tea houses to the top, to join the crowds of mostly European tourists watch the sunrise.

Don't get me wrong, it was beautiful up there, but after being in Nepal and having the Himilayas almost all to myself (with the exception of a few hardy travellers)--those European tourists seemed so out of place-- in their Prada gear, and high heeled shoes.

2007-04-06T10:52:00.000-07:00

Greetings from Luxor

Actually, we've been here awhile but there is so much to see and we've had a few late nights so we've not always gotten up in time to see what we wanted to during the day.

I have been quite bad with this blog these last few months. Its partly a matter of the difficulty and crisis in deciding the purpose to this blog. It started as a way to keep in touch with friends and quickly turned into a sort of online diary and now I'm not exactly sure who reads it!

Anyways, I'm going to make a concerted effort to update this blog a bit better from now on :)

2007-03-31T17:15:00.001-07:00

Luxor is beautiful and laidback, but definitely suffers from the touristy problems associated with packaged tourism (which unfortunately/fortunately I am not a package tourist).

2007-03-30T14:57:00.000-07:00

Cairo is an amazing place to hangout for a little while and there is so much to do here. The food is cheap, and this ancient yet modern city has so much character to it. Every aspect and neighbourhood is different. Being the New York of Egypt also lends it a kind of liberal flavour that is amazing.

2007-03-07T04:04:00.001-08:00

All in all, the safari experience was incredible, inspite of the problems caused by the poor organization of our safari provider, Victoria Expeditions.

There were definitely some highs and lows over the course of the safari. Some of my favorite memorable moments include:

1. The Descent into the Nogorogoro Crater

We descended in the morning into the crater but it felt more akin to descending upon another planet.

The thick white mist rolling over an incredibly green hill scape dotted with zebras, wildebest and Masai (with their bright red robes) eventually gave way to a steep decline into a completely alien landscape. No coniferous trees here, only bizarre vegetation ranging from twisted trees with barbs everywhere to giant poisoness trees with cacti growing upright from their branches.
Once there, the sight did not disappoint one iota. Thousands of wildebeast, zebras, and impala were grazing, approaching the vehicle without fear. Brightly pink Flamingos frolicked along the waterside in the hundreds. Proudly majestic elephants made us keep our distance, their impressive tusks a reminder of their power. Enormous hippos lazed in the muddy waters. A lion slept along the lakeside. Three hyenas moved quickly among the trees, likely assuming their positions for a strike upon the unknowingst heards. A lone cheetah sat amongst the high grass.

I could have hung out there all day watching those animals to the backdrop of that alien landscape whose colors ranged from the bright yellows of the grass to the intense greens of the hills to the dark blues of the crater rim.

2. Looking into the Eyes of Lions

Our safari company had changed our schedule at the last minute (without warning) in order to accommodate two consistently unhappy and unpleasant French women. The result was that we had to drive like mad on the first day from Arusha to make it to a campsite in the middle of the Serengeti. Clouds were gathering overhead, threatening to rain on us while the sun was descending. Getting stuck at night on the rough roadsof the Serengeti was probably a concern of our guides and so we sped long as quickly as posible.

Out to the right, our expedition chef spotted lions, lying in amongst the high yellow grass. How he spotted their well camoflaged bodies I'll never understand. Our driver took our vehicle offroad and closer to the beasts. The top of the land rover was open and we all stood on our seats. There were two males and one female. One male locked eyes with me, sitting contented but majestic. The female locked eyes with me, jaws open, hungry. Malcontent and ferocious.

Only a few meteres away, any of them could have easily jumped on the vehicle and attacked. We were at the mercy of these lions, adrenalin pumping and grateful for gracing us with their presence.

2007-03-02T03:27:00.000-08:00

Whoa Nelly! This is almost too much adventure!

Actually, I'm quite serious when I say that. Between my bag (with my hard drive) getting stolen, making out in public with a girl that Errol was going for (oops), getting somewhat ripped off on a safari tour, having lions hyeanas and bushpigs wander through our campsites at night, Errol getting mugged by bandits (and holding his own against them, although they did have reinforcements in the form of men with clubs--so we narrowly avoided getting our skulls beat in), getting excessively drunk with a bunch of German anthropologists and now trying to get out of dodge--well--phew. I think I need a break in the form of a shopping trip for a laptop in Dubai :)

This is a all a bit much I suppose for one blog so I'll backtrack when I have time to update my blog.

2007-02-15T03:33:00.000-08:00

Happy Valentine's Day Allergic Reaction!

“I’m sorry Sir, the restaurant is closed but there is a special Valentine’s Day dinner event on the 8th floor with buffet. Why don’t you go upstairs and enjoy your meal there?”

It sounded like a good idea. I was still numb from a bit of post-Kathmandu sadness, exhausted from an extended layover in Qatar and a good meal over a book sounded like a good idea.

The Valentine’s day event on the 8th floor of the upscale Peacock hotel looked like a cross between a high school dance and a cheap Vegas event. There were tables of lonely looking single business travelers all over the place and a few local couples sprinkled throughout. The dinner itself looked amazing, with all kinds of local Tanzanian cuisine ranging from various kinds of sauces to the ever present ugali (a kind of maize dough) to different kinds of salads. I wolfed down the food, quickly paid for my meal and made a hasty treat from the depressing scene back to the internet terminals on the main floor.

There I was checking my email when I noticed that the cold air hitting me from the large air conditioning unit behind me was making my skin feel a bit itchy on my hands and ears. It was getting a bit irritating so I decided to get back to up my room. By that time, I had noticed that a few bumps had appeared on my hands. ‘Stupid mosquitoes’, I thought. I hadn’t even seen them coming.

But then more bumps appeared.

My skin was looking more and more flush. My chest along my neckline was looking red. I took off my long sleeve top and saw that my arms were growing reddish bumps all over my skin at an alarming rate. Within minutes my arms looked puffy, far beyond the look of mere mosquito bites—rather my skin had its own frightening topography—like the scars of a burn victim.

‘It must have been the meal’, I thought. I was alarmed though, I had never had a food allergy and given how quickly it was spreading, there was no indication of how serious it would become. I had heard stories of people suffocating from severe allergic reactions or waking up with their eyes swollen shut. I decided to call the emergency hotline for the local hospital for advice. I headed down to the lobby of the hotel and at the behest of the reception staff person, decided to take a cab to the local Aga Khan Hospital.

Upon arrival at the dark and quiet hospital I urgently looked for anything resembling an emergency ward. With the help of one of the sole people hanging around the very dark premises, I found a reception man who took down my information and sent me to the doctors.

The next hour or so was a surreal time between the nurse that barely spoke English, the power outage at the hospital rendering everything completely dark, and the sight of a lost land crab scuttling along the hospital floor. Finally, I got to see the friendly English speaking doctor who gave me a cortisone injection and sent me on my way.
For the proceeding next forty-eight hours I found skin changing on a regular basis. At moments I would be writhing on my bed, my skin itching as though I were the favorite dish at an all-you-can-eat mosquito convention. I would look in detached horror at my arms and see the skin all distorted and gross, like some kind of horror movie. At other times, all the rashes would disappear and fade as though nothing had happened—good as new, only to re-emerge moments later on different parts of my arms and wrists.

Finally, after two days, the worst appeared to be over and a visit to the local upscale health clinic confirmed that it had likely been a food reaction with the after effects being quite normal. If anything further happened, I was likely to have some sort of easily treatable parasitic infection (worms or snail larvae), and I was given pills that I should take in any case after a trip like this.

Phew. They don’t put experiences like this in the travel brochures.

2007-02-05T03:17:00.000-08:00

Return to Kathmandu - Day Three

Oh..man.

So hung over.

Last night I ended up going to the CIDA party that was quite fun. The free flowing alcohol and free spirited Canadian NGO workers contributed to all of us getting quite inebriated.

By the end of the night, I was dancing at a club with Stephanie (a 29 year old UN communications expert), Ranjit (a 33 year old multimillionaire here running call centres), Salam (a very young attractive Nepalese political science phd student who speaks Nepalese, English, French, and Hindi quite fluently). We all ended up crashing at Ranjit's place with his home staff making us some great late night soup.

I've been back in Kathmandu less than 3 days now and I haven't slept in my room once yet! Plus, I've had less than 6 hrs sleep in over 72 hrs. Yikes.

2007-02-02T12:49:00.000-08:00

Things I Miss About Home

I have to say outright that I don't really miss home right now. I really miss aspects of home of course but I wouldn't give up my trip right now to go home. Not by a long shot.

1. Friends and family.

Of course. It has to be said I miss my friends and family. Who doesn't when they travel?

2. The Ritual and Routine of Running

Mostly in terms of fitness really. I really miss the early morning smell of fresh crisp air as I head out with a group on the river valley doing a 20+ km run. Those long conversations about nothing as we runners try to keep our minds occupied while we push and push.

Of course, I also really miss those fast runs with the speedsters on Wednesdays with guys like Otto, Beto, Corey, Mark, Hiro, Petra and all the rest of them as I struggle to keep up, huffing and puffing, pushing like a pack of dogs. When I run with those guys, I really feel like I'm moving fast.

Then there are those great midweek runs with David Chiswell and Bruce Laycock. Hill training and 10-12 km runs along the river valley at lunch. Running fast up Walterdale leaving David and Bruce behind.

Dammit, I miss running.

I ran by myself yesterday in Dar but it wasn't the same with the pollution, the absence of other runners and the lack of beauty in the surroundings. I suppose I could have run along Ocean Rd (which is pretty) but everyone keeps warning me of the muggings there.

3. Practicing Piano

I will be the first to admit that I don't practice piano enough. As one of my teachers used to point out, I am blessed with some natural technique--but I generally attribute that to the fact I started playing when I was four.

Anyways, it was nice having access to a piano in Dar at the Music Academy but it since hitting the road its been a frustrating thing to rediscover my love of acoustic jazz and not have a piano to practice on. I've been relistening to a lot of my favorite piano players, hearing great players live (especially in Vietnam), and reading about certain kinds of harmonic substitutions that for a long time I just didn't get and finally I think I get them.

Actually, I'm almost certain I get them but its hard to confirm unless I get access to a piano to experiment with them. I can play with harmonic changes in my head and generally hear them--I'm pretty good that way--but its just not the same as having access to a piano everytime you decide to try something out.

4. Big Movie Theatre Experiences

I must say, there are a lot of activities that I can experience overseas with either equal or better quality (i.e. There are better clubs in London and Spain. The hiking in Nepal is probably as good as what we have in the Rockies. The jazz players in Asia are smoking good, etc.).

But one thing I really miss is the South Common huge surround sound experience. I mean, I'd watch almost any piece of crap right now in that type of experience (well, often I'd watch almost any piece of crap period). Errol and I were completely crestfallen when DOA had stopped playing in this theatre in Delhi to which we were looking forward.

5. Chapters/Sugarbowl

Hanging out at a cafe, reading the paper or a good book and enjoying a cafe without any kind of rush is one of my favorite experiences in the world. Without a doubt, I've encountered places on this trip that definitely equal Edmonton's Chapters (Whyte Ave location) or the Sugarbowl. For instance, there is this great bookstore in Delhi that serves a mean cappucino in this funky bookstore, and the view from this one guesthouse cafe overlooking the city in Pushkar is positively stunning.

But there is still something really special of the atmosphere at those two places in Edmonton. They are a meeting place of sorts. The Sugarbowl especially, I've met so many people there and enjoyed way to many cups of coffee there leading to further bottles of beer. I'm sure I'll have plenty of worthy substitutes again when I head back to Europe, which has a thriving cafe culture.

2007-02-02T12:39:00.000-08:00

Fear and Loathing in Doha

ARGH!

Ok I've said it. I feel better now. Actually I don't really but let me explain why I'm yelling out in frustration. I landed in Dar Es Salaam two days ago and managed to get what I wanted done. Namely, one, I arranged to get a new passport done for me to be picked up by me in about 10 days when I return to Dar Es Salaam from Kathmandu. This was especially difficult because (i) I don't have my birth certificate with me and (ii) I don't have a guarantor handy because I was in the middle of Southern Africa; and two, I got some decent amounts of US cash on hand.

Anyways, as I was about to leave the place the officer asks to take copies of my credit card and social insurance cards for their files (my additional two pieces of ID), and, I believe, that was the last time I saw them. I'm desperately hoping they still have them there but its 11:41 at night here in Doha and it will be another 10 hrs or so before I can call them.

At least I have my ATM card on me, some US cash and travellers cheques. So I should be ok and hopefully my credit card is nice and safe with the High Commission right now. We'll see.

My other problem is that I'm stuck at the Doha airport almost at midnight and my flight to Kathmandu is ALREADY delayed by two hours and it was scheduled to take off close to two am.

Yeeesh. Its going to be a long night.

On the other hand, it looks like Stephanie, my friend that I met at Jbar a little over a month ago invited me to a cool party of UN personnel in Kathmandu the night of my arrival so at least the first night looks promising in terms of having fun. Plus I'll get a chance to stop sweating profusely which has been my general experience in Africa so far.

2007-01-30T02:01:00.000-08:00

Making Arrangements Back to Kathmandu

Well I've decided to do an LLM and while I'm beginning to tire of 'island time' and the simple life that is Zanzibar stone town, I must say it has given me the chance to think further on the future and my career direction.

2007-01-27T06:26:00.000-08:00

Island Time

I've been using Zanzibar as a chance to catch up with life--get organized, get in touch with oppotunities to volunteer internationally, research LLM programs I'm interested in, etc, but the fact that everything, and I mean everything here moves so slowly makes these things more difficult sometimes.

Ah well, hakuna matata as they say here.

2007-01-25T01:10:00.000-08:00

Life in Zanzibar

We have arrived in Zanzibar, its going to take me a few days to summarize my thoughts on the place. I love this place. To say it is paradise would seem to cliche but its true (with the exception of the horrible mosquitos).

Last night I ended up going drinking with a scotsman adventure travel guide to a cool bar owned by a Holland born man of Korean descent where we played pool against a number of Massai warriors (we got our asses kicked), a few if whom spoke fluent Italian. I also met a cool woman there from London, whose three month vacation turned into a semipermanent life in Zanzibar operating a branch of a South Africa bank managing a microfinance operation. The incredible people I meet while travelling continue to defy any preconceived expectations I might have had about what life has to offer.

2007-01-16T01:38:00.000-08:00

Dar Es Salaam - Day One

Access to the blogger engine has been somewhat more difficult since arriving here in Africa. Weird. Anyways, its clean, gorgeous, and the people are superfriendly here in comparison to India. So far, noone has tried to swindle me out of money either. This place already feels much more relaxed.

2007-01-15T05:27:00.000-08:00

Last day in India

We drive from the loneliness of the funeral pyre to the crowds of the back streets of bedlam that constantly assault with sounds, smells and sights. Padma sits numb while I'm high on sensory overload and sick from Wonderland's roller coast of extreme emotions.

Amid the manicured lawns of the embassy district cars slow down to avoid what appears to be a branch on the road. But it's not a branch. It's the twisted limbs of a beggar who's been hit by a car; he is lying in the middle of the road crying and reaching out his hands for help. We pull over and Jonathan jumps out. But as he approaches the stricken man, a bus lurches to a halt; its driver gets out, grabs the beggar by his arm, drags him to the gutter and dumps him, his face and abdomen bleeding from the bitumen. He's dragged in anger, not in sympathy; human debris removed. The driver, his route now clear, jumps back on his bus and drives away.

India is the worst of humanity.

At the traffic light, Pooja runs up to our car; she is a local beggar who knows we are the softest touch around. We've given her clothes, food and pay good money for the paper she sells. She has rat-tail Rastafarian hair, dimples and dirty teeth but still manages to be the most beautiful child I've ever seen, with a smile that would melt stone. She moves to tap on the window but sees we're upset and hesitates. She gives me a newspaper and pats my hand.

'Poor memsahibs. Ap teekay hoga.' (You will be okay).
The pity in her liquid brown eyes is an extraordinary communication of kindness from a child who has nothing to a woman who has everything.
India is the best of humanity.

-- excerpt from Sarah Macdonald, Holy Cow! An Indian Adventure.

This post will be a one which takes a bit of time and will be a work-in-progress. My thoughts on India became more complex, than they were at the conclusion of my last visit.

India has this way of provoking strong emotions and truly reaches out to engage you. You may hate or love India, or both, but you certainly walk away changed.

2007-01-11T05:45:00.000-08:00

Sick in Udiapur

*sniff* *honk* *sniff* - Jason Fung

Well I've come down with a cold, a shame really, because Udaipur is the kind of place you could just spend relaxing and watching people all day. Its also a kind of blessing, for that same reason. There are little time commitments to be made here, just time to relax and recharge.

Like Pushkar, Udaipur is sort of a magical town by a lake in the middle of the desert. Unlike Pushkar, which is, I understand, more of a holy city with its entire history and being rooted in legend, Udaipur is far more touristy, with dozens of cafes and rooftop patios from which one may have a drink and watch the sunset. Don't get me wrong, Udaipur is no less magical a place than Pushkar and has a charm all of its own. However, where Pushkar only has about 16,000 people, Udaipur has a population of over 300,000.

Yet, despite its tourist developments, and endless showings of Octopussy (which was filmed here), Udaipur remains inherently exotic. Today, for example, I was at a really nice über hip hole in the wall cafe enjoying a grilled sandwich and a mango juice when an elephant walked by (so large as to obstruct the entire wall-less opening to the cafe). Late that evening I enjoyed the sunset from a cafe roof while watching the 1986 Keith Jarrett trio concert I purchased in Kathmandu play on the DVD system. In the distance I could see the gorgeous white palace on the lake, the city palace overtop the lake on the hill, and in the distance the sandstone haveli on the banks of the lake.

***

As I will be leaving India soon, I find myself trying to come to some sort of conclusion about it but I find any easy answers difficult to come by. If I had merely visited Kolkata, Delhi and Varanasi, I would have painted a picture of a difficult place with rude people, a seemingly uncaring society with desperate poverty and polluted air and streets. I would have gone on endlessly of society trapped in the past with religion and caste seemingly working to separate people.

But then I remember places like Rajaram's village in Khujaharo and that fellow I met along the way to the temple overlooking Pushkar and I see places of incredible beauty and mystery and glimpses of a people whose wisdom dates back centuries. If I had only been to places like Udaipur and Pushkar, my impressions of Northern India would have been quite different. I've seen a lot of ugliness but also a lot of beauty.

2007-01-08T21:00:00.000-08:00

Leaving Pushkar for Udipur

Well its midmorning and we're gearing up for a six to seven hour busride in Rajastan to Udipur, which features a palace in the middle of a lake. Its supposed to be arguably India's most romantic city.

2007-01-07T22:51:00.000-08:00

Pushkar - Day One

Again, so much has happened I wish I had the time to catch up on this blog with all of the events.

This morning I woke up around 6am and climbed to the top of the Savitri Temple to watch the sunrise. Errol elected to stay in bed, having a sore ankle and no inclination to leave the warm confines of his bed.

The walk up wasn't bad at all really, considering I just recently returned from treking in the Himalayas. The view of the land was stunning, you truly feel you are in the desert. I can see why Pushkar seems magical, its a lake in the middle of the desert and surrounded by mountains. At the very top of the hill is a Temple with a mythlogy deeply intertwined with Pushkar. I read one description as follows:

According to the Padma Purana, Lord Brahma was in search of a suitable place to perform a yagna when the lotus he was holding fell from is hand and landed on the Earth. Infact the town is named after this little story, flower in hindi is 'push' and hand is 'kar', therefore the land was named Pushkar. Miraculously a lake sprang up at the place where the Lotus had lain and Brahma considering it a good omen decided to perform his yagna, there and then, but when his wife Savitri failed to join him, he married a local damsel Gayatri and completed the ceremony, on getting to know about this, an enraged Savitri cursed Brahma that from this day forth he would be worshipped only in the land of Pushkar and nowhere else on Earth. - Rajastan Tours Travel

I watched the sky getting lighter and lighter but the mountainous ridge precluded the stunning type of sunset I saw at Burningman or at Pune Hill. I decided to descend after a time and met this nice older Hindu man from Kashmir along the way. I decided to reascend the mountain with him, learning about Hinduism along the way.
It was one of those moments in which India's magic sort of reveals itself. Its hard to hate India when you have moments such as this. I made an offering at the temple and we descended, meeting a French guy, Alexis, and several attractove and friendly Finnish women along the way. Alexis, I, the women decided to go for breakfast and there we met up with Errol and enjoyed the morning together.

I have to say that the atmosphere in Pushkar is wonderful, laidback, and the streets more clean and well kept that many of the Indian cities I have been to so far. In fact, I have barely seen a man urinate on the street anywhere! We are bothered less here by touts, the street scenes are colorful, and the lake is gorgeous. Tonight I'll have some tea along the sacred waters and watch the sunset along the white and blue washed walls of the ghats. I feel incredibly lucky to be here now.

Near te

2007-01-06T23:18:00.000-08:00

Arrival in Pushkar

I've had enough of real. Bring on the comfort! - Errol Barrie

Errol and I elected to ride 'executive class' from Delhi to Ahjmer. The ride was welcome as we had barely a chance to sleep in Delhi that night. Riding executive class is similar to flying on a somewhat crummy airplane; generally comfortable, more or less clean, but with a lot more leg room and you get served food and tea along the way. We arrived later in the afternoon in Ahjmer, and took the crowded local bus from there to Pushkar. Along the way Errol noted that the taxi was now looking really good but I disagreed--we were definitely getting a lesson in local color. It was after a time, quite entertaining, as we were both getting lots of questions and attention from the other bus riders who wanted to know all about us.

2007-01-03T23:54:00.000-08:00

Its 'Go' time!

Well, tickets are bought and in about two hours its back to smelly streest, rude people, sketchy internet cafes, and polluted air. Hurray!

2007-01-03T00:04:00.000-08:00

Stuck in Kathmandu (its a great place to get stuck)

Well we're trying to get out of here by flight back to Delhi (we've decided not to go to Sikkim and instead spend more time in Rajastan) but its not easy as Delhi keeps cancelling all of its flights due to fog. Apparently its a yearly thing in Delhi as none of the pilots are trained in the computer landing system which is common in most Western countries.

However, the delay did give us time to catch the Bouda Pagoda here at sunset. With the chanting monks, dying sun and incredible atmosphere of the old quarter--the Bouda Pagoda truly is a special place.

2007-01-02T00:32:00.000-08:00

Its Time to Go

Well, I've had a really bad case of 'one-more-day-itis' and its really time to leave this incredible place and hit the road again. This time, we're flying back to Delhi then through Rajastan through to Mumbai. Sigh, goodbye Kathmandu!

2007-01-01T00:10:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!

Last night was quite chaotic here in Nepal's capital as Ben (Australian), Errol, Jane (UK Dr) and Kate (UK Dr) and I hit the town to ring in the new year!

We started with a great dinner at New Orleans cafe where I had a chance to say hi to Sudase--the manager/guitar player with whom I jammed before going treking. After a fine meal of Australian lamb, wine, soup and cake we headed off to the chilled out Buddhabar to relax and have a few beer.

The streets were filling up quite a bit at that point and we were warned by Kate (who is working with Doctors Without Borders) that we should not wander the streets too much around midnight. Apparently, many youth cannot afford to go drinking in the bars, and end up getting quite smashed in the streets. The crowds outside were primarily young Nepalese males and apparently, in her experience, late alcohol fueled fights amongst Nepal's young and frustrated can be dangerous, brutal, without warning and indescriminate.

From there we went to Jerry's Bar to ring in the new year. It was quite crowded with a young and very exuberant crowd from all over the world. Its a small, unassuming bar with pool tables and such, but its one of Kathmandu's most popular places.

After Jerry's Bar we intended to get to Fire Club--a crowded dance club but the line up was very long and chaotic. I remember reading of various nightclub incidents around the world where overcrowding resulted in deaths and certainly Fire Club seemed to offer that possibility. Moreover, some Western women were leaving the club complaining that they had been groped in the club. At any rate, based on the line up, the crowd was likely to be made up of 95% young Nepalese men, and 5% women. We retreated to another club but along the way our group got separated. Errol heard gunshot sounds and elected to pull the cord at that point, and I retired to the room for a good nights sleep.

Happy New Year everyone!

2006-12-30T04:30:00.000-08:00

I hope that after I die, people will say of me: 'That guy sure owed me a lot of money.' - Jack Handey

ARGH. Hung over. On a scale of 1 to 10, one being just tired, and ten being completely fucked, nauseated with a headache of migraine proportions--well I'd say that I'm currently feeling 2 or 3. This is all quite surprising considering the degree to which I was completely inebriated in Kathmandu last night. Ben, Errol and I decided to club hop and I bought the first round of drinks. We started off at a laidback rooftop reggae bar, moved to a couchy type of jazz club and then to a packed dance club.

The problem was really that we broke a fundamental rule--don't mix drinks. We started with beer, moved on to cocktails, and then to shots, and back to beer, then cocktails and so forth.

By the end of the night I could barely stand, was nauseated, and altogether in rough shape. I made it back to my room in one piece after polluting a number of toilets along the way. Not a pretty site and a good reminder to drink with a little more moderation! Oh yeah, New Year's Eve is tomorrow night. Doh.

2006-12-27T00:21:00.000-08:00

Christmas in the Himalayas!

The good shine from afar
Like the snowy Himalayas.
The bad don't appear
Even when near,
Like arrows shot into the night.
- Dhammapada, 21, translated by Thanissaro Bhikkhu.

Merry Christmas One And All! I've just completed what normally would be a 10 day trek in the Himalayas to Annapurna Base Camp (otherwise known as the 'ABC' trek) in 8 days. Even our guide (VJ) and porter (Krishna) remarked this was the first ever time they've descended from ABC as fast as in two days and one night.

The scenery was spectacular--everything from waterfalls, monkeys, ice falls, lush forests, green rice paddies terraced on the mountainside. Finally, at the top, I found myself surrounded by some of the world's highest mountains on a lovely sunny afternoon before Christmas.

The ascent was great--I love pushing and the workout on my quads was great. I often found myself far ahead of the others in my group (including VJ and Krishna) who at one point joked that I was the 'Canadian winner'. My endurance was tested by the thin atmosphere at the top and I had no problems at all--in fact

The descent was far less fun--really sort of a dangerous, occasionally challenging, and often painful chore. The declines were occasionally VERY steep and could last for a kilometre at a time. The footing, at best, were knee destroying steep stone slab staircases, and at worst--simply rocky ankle jarring rocky 'paths' (if you can call them that).

However, what was satisfying was our record breaking trip down the mountain. Errol and I both wanted to complete the trek as fast as we could after reaching ABC. Thus, VJ suggested a plan that would have us back to the pickup spot wthin two days (and one night). To put this in perspective, most groups return to the drop off spot within 3-4 days--at times were were almost 'running' down the mountain on those hard rock slabs. I could feel the trauma to my knees--but it was all worthwhile when we made it to Jhilnu on the first day of the descent (MUCH farther than the other groups!) and spent the evening with VJ and Krishna enjoying the hot springs.

The second day of the descent was much worse as my left boot decided to develop a new trait--the ability to cut into my ankle with every step. SOOO painful. Still, we pushed and pushed and finally made it.

and PHEW.

Finally a hot shower, a good meal, some beer, and a nice warm bed.

2006-12-13T08:34:00.000-08:00

Kathmandu - Day One

You have no idea how much tension you are holding until its finally eased. And no, I'm not talking about my sex life. I'm talking about the fact that I was soo wound up in Northern India that when we finally made it to Nepal it was like..wow...people who are nice....basic human compassion without an up front or hidden price tag!

2006-12-06T06:30:00.000-08:00

Varanasi - Day One

Man, there is so much I could write to try and keep up with my emotions and shifting opinions with respect to Northern India.

***

Moved from the Hotel Shivram to the Hotel Haifa--and WHAT a difference--the staff here know the tourism industry and western standards--people are actually courteous and the rooms aren't super dingy.

Today we also got up at 4:30 am--and found out our showers at the Hotel Shivram didn't even work at all, nor did the hot water tap. The guy at the front counter said he would bring us towels and didn't. I could rant endlessly now about my perception of the Indian staff's apparent lack of self pride in their establishments but I won't. After all, I haven't toured everywhere--and my perceptions could be wrong-and the Haifa is a great place here in Varanasi after all.

***

After our grumpy morning we got to the Ghats in the Old City along the Ganges river before sunrise and hired a boat...and let me tell you....its one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. The red sun, the amazingly beautiful river, the sight of people bathing in the Ganges, the sight of people cremating their dead or attending puja, the birds flying overhead, the sounds of the chanting from the Ghats....this place can be amazing.

That sight alone will stay with me for the whole of this trip---it makes the cowshit, smell, negotiations with everyone for everything, and challenging train rides here well worth it.

2006-12-05T18:39:00.000-08:00

Bodhgaya to Varanasi

You never quite appreciate having a bunk on the sleeper class -- as barren and cold as it might be -- until you get on a train and someone else is sleeping in it and you end up sitting in the space between bunks on your bag --having to get up every time someone wants to go the bathroom.

Ahh well...the women that had my spot had a really cute kid with her and turned out to be a really nice woman. There was no way that I would have kicked her out of my spot.

Luckily, after awhile, one bunk became empty and Errol and I sat on it at either sides and tried to rest a bit. Varansi is a tough place and we needed to be ready.

2006-12-04T18:54:00.000-08:00

Bodhgaya - Day Four

I hope to fill in more for this day at some later point, more on my thoughts on Santos and Raju and Errol's suspicious about them and their proposal for aid to the villages and the beginning of my inability to get cash in India (which is quite worrying) but the keys on this keyboard are very sticky and I'm having trouble typing....

All in all though, a recharge day with a bit of internet, eating and relaxing with the monks (and their Grandfather, a 'big' or senior monk).

2006-12-03T06:53:00.000-08:00

Bodhgaya - Day Three

Errol and I, after some consideration, decided to take up Santos and Raju's offer to tour the nearby sites (taking the junior monk Dhammakand with us).

They ended up taking us to Rajgir, the ancient capital of the Magadha kingdom. Its an important pilgrimage site for both Buddhists and Jains. We took the chairlift to the top of Ratnagiri Hill and visited the Japanese Shanti Stupa. The sight from the top of the hill over looking the valley and distant shrines and hilltops was amazing. A lot of monkeys (big ones!) were there too, plus the sound of Japanese drumming meditation, made for an atmospheric place.

***

After that, they took us to Nalanda--which from the 5th Century, was one of the ancient world's great universities--eventually sacked by the Afghans in the 12th Century. The ruins were not much to look at, albeit they were peaceful and generally well maintained.

***

After Nalanda, we all went for lunch and when the bill came, Nipi, Santos and Raju expected us to pay for them--they didn't ask--merely presented the bill to us--that plus a few other things made us start to wonder about their sincerity...

2006-12-02T18:52:00.000-08:00

Bodhgaya - Day Two

Yesterday, later in the evening we met Santos, Raju and Nipi--three students (they say they are)-- from Bodhgaya who speak English well (with the exception of Nipi). They sat by us at the Fujita Green Restaurant and introduced themselves.

We chatted for awhile and eventually they proposed to take us around the nearby sights, some 125km outside of Bodhgaya. We tentatively agreed, still assessing them--suspicious because the reputation of the area. They didn't ring any gut level alarm bells though.

ps The food here is amazing.

***

Toured the local temples, including the Mahabodhi Temple, which has a Bodhi tree which came rom the same sapling of the original Bodhi tree under which prince Siddartha Gautama transformed himself into the enlightened one under the Bodhi tree.

I meditated for some time under the tree. Its a very peaceful and special place and you can sense it.

***

After sitting under the tree for awhile, I was thinking to myself how nice it would be to have a leaf from the tree---but one that is dead, not one taken from the tree. Just at that moment, a single leaf floated down in front of me.

***

I spent the rest of the day touring the Buddhist temples from around the world along with Errol and two young monks--Ananda and Dhammakand. Dhammakand and I shared his bike and Errol and Ananda did the same. It was fun trucking around the town with a 10 year old 'small monk' sitting on the bike back seat/storage thing telling me which direction to turn!

2006-12-01T02:25:00.000-08:00

Bodhgaya - Day One

Well, after a long and cramped journey across the West Bengal province and into the Bihar province of India, I find myself in the town of Bodhgaya--where Prince Siddartha Gautama became the 'enlightened one'.

The train ride itself was a tough experience, which at times made me want to laugh and cry simultaneously. I, at once, felt like I was in the middle of a foreign circus and an animal stuffed in a cage. To some extent, I found myself smiling during the trip, thinking to myself--this is definitely what I signed up for--I just didnt quite viscerally understand it at the time.

The adventure started before the train ride even started. Errol and I took a taxi to the train station, and along the way, the taxi driver suddenly pulled up to let someone else in---a common tactic if you are about to get robbed and/or kidnapped. We both looked at each other in alarm and quietly mentally prepared ourselves for a fight. Luckily enough our fears were not realized and we were delivered to the train station.

Immediately at the train station even when pulling out my cash to pay the guy a small crowd of louts were forming --some probably looking to pickpocket, others looking to sell aggressively sell us their services or goods. Every moment here you have to be on guard.

The train station was a mess of men, women, children sprawled out everywhere. The place smelled of urine. Disabled people crawling on all fours, filthy from the dirt of the city and the station...children grabbing at you for charity...heavily armed soldiers eyeing you suspiciously...

We thought the train experience might be like that in Thailand..basic but comfortable--how wrong we were! The quarters were cramped and without privacy...nowhere to put our packs...people stuffing their bags in our beds...

To add to our difficulties, I was suffering from a rather aggressive cold, stuffed up, and feeling a bit feverish. We ended up sleeping on top of our packs on the top two bunks (two bunks underneath ours). I ended up shivering, trying to get some rest and conserve body heat as the temperature of the train car began to steadily drop.

I thought of a lot of thing while sitting in the dark in that cold, barren train

--the Buddhists at the monestary when we went through our meditation training--of how all life is suffering and just to get over it-
--of how this kind of adventure is exactly what I signed up for
--of how the spiritual advisors I met in the desert told me they sensed that I had a journey ahead which was meant to toughen me up

and listened to some good Stevie Ray Vaughan on my mp3 player--and thought to myself

--this is perfect.

2006-11-30T16:02:00.000-08:00

Kolkata - Day Two

Kolkata is dirty.

Extremely dirty.

Take what you are imagining when I say dirty and multiply that exponentially.

You can smell the stench everywhere; see people peeing and spitting on the street. When I asked a shop for garbage the guy said to me, “this is India” and then advised me to throw it on the street.

The air is so polluted with smog you can literally see it metres in front of you. Errol’s GPS could not break through the brown skies overhead. You can literally taste the smog in your mouth.

I found my eyes turning red (as well as those of the people I met), and found myself coughing without reason.

I also found myself getting sick—there is no point to keeping your hands clean—especially if no one else is—including the guys preparing your food.

***

The poverty here is mind numbing as well…literally. I found myself looking at old men, with amputated or deformed limbs, living on cardboard, infected, and covered with dirt—looking for charity---and feeling nothing.

Nothing whatsoever.

A mere two months ago, such a sight would have scarred me, now it barely registers. I mourn a bit for that little bit of empathy that I might have lost or had deadened by this barrage of poverty and desperation.

I meet travelers who volunteer at Mother Theresa’s mission here for the dying and admire them in their ability to keep that empathy alive. I hope that I will find it again.

At times it feels more as though we’re in a circus of the poor and the rich here. The latter appear to have little or no concern for former—a fact perhaps accentuated by the size of the population, and the caste system. I don’t know—its hard to make any generalizations about a place as complex as India—but I see what Cambodia has done with what little it has---and how they seemed to take care of each other in Siem Reap with institutions allowing for free schooling, and a hospital without fees for children—and I wonder to myself—does India care for its own like that?

***

Part of the reason I feel disconnected might be that in each of the countries we have visited so far—Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia---we have made great friends who were locals. Even people with whom we could barely communicate--somehow we made empathy with. Errol and I even had preliminary plans to distribute food to women and children in line at the hospital in Siem Reap.

But here in Kolkata— I find myself an alien – unaccepted for anything but my wallet. I find myself alternatively being stared at or purposely ignored. It is ironic that here, in Northern India, where English is so widespread, that I relate so little people to the around me—and where they seem so disinterested in relating to me. For Errol, it may be even worse—since he receives great desperate outpourings of emotion from people here—much of which in Bengalis or Hindu—all of which is foreign to both of us and wrapped in layers of culture we may never understand.

The truth of the matter is that, whether its valid or not, I felt more kinship to the children street vendors of Cambodia (with which I negotiated often with, showing me their great intelligence, tenacity and humour) than to the rich urban class of Kolkata next of which I have sat in upscale restaurants served by overzealous wait staff.

***

In this crazy, exotic, chaotic and dirty place--I find myself thinking not about its wonder or charm - but what are they doing wrong with this city.

Our quarters are expensive here compared to life in Thailand, Laos and Vietnam. We ended up touring all of the accommodations listed in the lonely planet along Sudder Street--one of the poorest in Kolkata but the only area with budget accommodation. Most of them were dank, smelled of mildew and mold, and often looked as though they hadn't been cleaned in years. We ended up at the Hotel Astoria --which let me tell you is not nearly as nice as the name suggests. We got the deluxe room---I swear probably the best room you can get in Kolkata for the price we're paying - outside of the always fully booked Fairlawn Hotel). *

For similar prices, in Hanoi we got an amazing clean room, free internet, in a very modern building. In Thailand, for a similar price we got an ocean view resort room. In Kolkata, you get a place you where you have to leave the lights on to keep the cockroaches out.

Where does the money go? It’s not to improve the infrastructure that’s for sure. I find myself quietly swearing at the society here that does not appear to invest in its infrastructure, help its poor or even maintain/upgrade its facilities, all the while charging first world prices for the privilege of visiting the place. Of course, I'm staying in one of the poorest areas of the city, and I'm sure the streets like Park Road get great treatment.

***

* By the way, we met the charming older women Irene who owns the Fairlawn Hotel and, if I ever make my way back there, is where I will be staying. She is very funny--albeit she enjoys making jokes about poisoning people to make them stay--so that IS a bit odd--but very charming nonetheless. Moreover, her hotel oozes this very British colonial character (apparently for years it was known as the Canada House).

2006-11-29T16:14:00.000-08:00

Kolkata - Day One

Today we actually got to see some of the sights in Kolatta--starting with the Kalighat. We both were wisked through the temple by a self-appointed guide. We both received blessings at that temple.

Wikipedia has this to say about Kalighat:

A famous temple dedicated to the goddess Kali is situated in Kalighat. This is one of the 51 Shakti Peethas. The right toe of Dakshayani is said to have fallen here. The Shakti here is known as Kalika, while the Bhairava is Nakulesh. It is a very famous place and a pilgrimage for Shakta (Shiva and Durga/Kali/Shakti worshippers) followers within the Hindu religion.

As it turns out, Kalighat is one of the reasons Kolkata is called Kolkata, and is also the red-light district of Kolkata. One writer notes thats that many of the sex trade workers were lured there by false work promises or by force from other parts of India. Also there is one of Mother Theresa's homes for the care of the dying.

***

From there we went to the immense British building known as the Victoria Memorial. The site is stunning, but I found the educational history of Bengal inside more valuable.

Wikipedia has this to say about the Victoria Memorial:

The Victoria Memorial, located in Kolkata, India is a memorial of Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom who also carried the title of Empress of India.

The structure was designed by Sir William Emerson in an architectural style similar to Taj Mahal. Earlier he was asked to design the building in the Italian Renaissance style. But as Emerson was against the exclusive use of European styles, he incorporated Mughal elements. Vincent Esch was the superintending architect. Lord Redesdale and Sir David Prain designed the gardens. The work of construction was entrusted to Messrs Martin & Co. of Calcutta.

It was built between 1906 and 1921. It is a majestic white marble building at the southern end of the Maidan and surrounded by a sprawling garden. A black bronze angel known as Victory, holding a bugle in her hand was placed at the apex of the dome above the Memorial. It is fixed to its pedestal with ball bearings and rotates when the wind is strong enough. Unlike many other monuments of British Imperialism in India, it has been well maintained.

2006-11-26T00:48:00.000-08:00

Return to Bangkok - Day Three

Its a lazy Sunday afternoon in Bangkok and we spent the afternoon taking care of a few errands (sending stuff home by surface mail) and a few things we meant to see but got side tracked on a wild over priced tailored suit buying adventure--namey Wat Phra Kaew and the Grand Palace.

I could attempt to wax on poetically about the Wat but I'm quite exhausted, heat baked, tired and I haven't had my first cup of coffee today yet so here's an excerpt from Wikipedia:

The Wat Phra Kaew (English Temple of the Emerald Buddha, Thai: วัดพระแก้ว; full official name Wat Phra Sri Rattana Satsadaram, Thai: วัดพระศรีรัตนศาสดาราม) is regarded as the most important Buddhist temple in Thailand. It is located in the historic center of Bangkok (district Phra Nakhon), within the grounds of the Grand Palace.

The construction of the temple started when King Buddha Yodfa Chulaloke (Rama I) moved the capital from Thonburi to Bangkok in 1785. Unlike other temples it does not contain living quarters for monks; rather, it has only the highly decorated holy buildings, statues, and pagodas.

The main building is the central ubosoth, which houses the Emerald Buddha. Even though it is small in size it is the most important icon for Thai people. Legends hold that the statue originated in India, but it first surfaced in the vassal Kingdom of Cambodia and was given as a gift to the King of Ayuttaya in the 15th century 1434. The image disappeared when Burmese raiders sacked Ayuttaya and the image was feared lost. A century later, the 'Emerald' Buddha reappeared in Chaing Saen, after a rainstorm washed away some of it's plaster covering. It was then moved to Chiang Rai, then Chiang Mai, where it was removed by prince Setatiratt to Luang Prabang, when his father died and he ascended the throne of that Siamese vassal state. In later years it was moved to the Siamese vassal state of Vientiene. During a Haw invasion from the North, Luang Prabang requested Siam's help in repelling the invaders. The King of Vietienne tratoriously attacked the Siamese army from the rear, so the 'Emerald' Buddha returned to Siam when King Taksin fought with Laos and his general Chakri (the later King Rama I) took it from Vientiane, which at that time had been brought to its knees by the Thai Army. It was first taken to Thonburi and in 1784 it was moved to its current location. Wat Prah Keo, in Phnom Penh, is considered by many modern Cambodians as it's rightful resting place, whereas, Haw Phra Kaew, in Vientiane, is considered by many Lao people as the Emerald Buddha's rightful place.

Tonight I'm getting together with some girls from my dive class with Errol to see the new James Bond movie at the uber beautiful/decadent sofa theatres at Siam Discovery Centre and maybe a few drinks with Michelle (whom I met at the full moon party) later. It will probably be an early night--everyone, including myself--is very exhausted.

2006-11-25T01:01:00.000-08:00

Return to Bangkok - Day Two

Its funny, the best laid plans never work out as planned. Tonight was possibly going to be a more raucious evening with Sarah and Sian but didnt work out that way as Sarah ended up getting a migraine. So instead I decided to work on my arabic studies, copy my French notes, and get organized.

Well I did end up studying/getting organized for a few hours until Dit ended up dragging back to the wild litle bar that is popular with Thais, including off hours police, until almost 6am. I'm exhausted!

2006-11-24T01:12:00.000-08:00

Return to Bangkok - Day One

2006-11-09T23:42:00.000-08:00

Koh Tao - Day Four

Well, as of today, I am a PADI Open Water qualified diver! I finished and passed the final exam. I finished four dives, two of which were in rough waters with little visibility. Our final two dives were today and that last one was amazing. Lots of little fishes of different colors, different kinds of animals with spikes, and huge coral everywhere.

My dive partner, Andy, and I have become quite proficient--enough for one of the divemasters to make a joke we seemed semi-professional already! Pretty good if I do say so myself ;)

2006-11-09T02:59:00.000-08:00

Koh Tao - Day Three

Diving today was challenging at times today--apparently they were perfect training conditions--poor visibility, rough waters--the kind of training that really toughens up new divers. Sort of like taking your driver's training in the winter I suppose.

Still, I made it through and the whole time I kept thinking to myself--diving, like rockclimbing, is this great mix of the logical and the emotional--you have to be clear headed the whole time and work through problems, and be diligent and disciplined or you can run into significant life threatening problems very quickly. Yet, its still stunningly gorgeous when you see those reefs, and its hard not just to be left in awe.

2006-11-08T02:02:00.000-08:00

Koh Tao - Day Two - My Scuba Experience

The PADI manual states strongly, and in no uncertain terms that one should not dive with a cold or under any sort of cold medication. Truth be told, I've been fighting off a cold for the last few days--exasperated by a bit of stress, and some hard core full moon partying.

The instructor, Ant (short for Anthony) is one charismatic and enthusiastic guy. I really like the guy. He's incredibly dedicated and carries his instructing with a great degree of integrity. He's passionate both abou teaching diving, the future of the diving industry and most of all, protecting earth's waters. At the ripe old age of 41, he's got the energy levels most 19 year olds couldn't match, a lovely wife and child and a very worldly feel about him. Actually, it turns out he used to be with the Royal Ballet out of London for years.

Today Ant and his divemasters lectured, and trained our crew of new divers in the ways of SCUBA. Actually, at first, I was to be in "Flav"'s group (short for Flavious, this nice Polish guy who is also an instructor), then I was moved to Belinda's group (a very attractive woman from Ontario) which happened to be primarily composed of Canadians (there are a lot of Canadians in Thailand). Finally I was moved to Ant's group.

At first I was disappointed, since Flav's group was composed primarily of incredibly attractive women, and Belinda's group was composed of cool Canadians that reminded me a lot home. In contrast, Ant's group appeared to be composed almost exclusively of huge serious looking guys that appeared like they just came off a Navy Seals mission.

I introduced myself, broke some ice, and they turned out to be a bunch of good guys from Ireland, Holland, the US and Scotland. The best part--our "contained" exercises (i.e. using SCUBA gear for the first time) which would normally be done in the pool were to be done in the ocean--right off the water out back.

At first it was really strange--I consider myself a bit of a rationally minded person and kept reminding myself to just focus, and relax. Perhaps those Buddhist meditation seminar lessons might come in handy.

Whatever happened, it worked, I was able to get through the exercises in short order and our 'sub group' (taught by one of Ant's divemasters) was able to finish all the required skills much faster than the group taught by Ant himself. A few of Ant's group were having troubles breathing and adjusting to the regulators and I'm suspecting a few panic attacks broke out. I'm not mocking though, since who knows? I'm sure I'm one dive away from experiencing that myself.

***

After the skills course, Ant took us on a 15-20 minute short sort of non-loggable dive around the reef area near where we were doing the skills instruction. Wow, it was AMAZING.

Seriously, fucking amazing.

I found myself gliding over fish, coral, classmates all around me---no fear at all, just sadness when air began to run low and it was time to surface.

I'm seriously thinking that diving could become a more regular activity in my life.

2006-11-07T14:35:00.000-08:00

Koh Tao - Day One

Errol and I left Ko Phangan and made our way by boat to Koh Tao.

I was having kind of a shit day, worrying that I might get rabies from this idiot who was using the same fork to feed this stray dog that he was to share sausages with people (I didn't realize untl after) and still a bit worried about my leg wound.

Errol was quite talkative, in good spirits (having been well rested the previous night) and was extremely chipper. This of course, I found very annoying--mostly because I was anxious, experiencing a hangover, and generally unhappy with the world. All I wanted in the world was to sit still, not talk, and drink coffee. Nothing against Errol, he's a great guy. I love him like a brother and his unbounded enthusiasm for life is part of why he's such a likeable guy. But when a guy is bouncing up and down ready to make friends and you feel like death, well, bad thoughts enter your head.

I'm sure he probably sensed it and gave me some space during the catamarang ferry ride from Ko Phangan to Koh Tao as well as during the evening which was spent mostly with my classmates and studying my course materials over dinner. Actually, the PADI course was starting pretty much just as we arrived at Ban's Diving School so I pretty much had to suck it up and start learning about SCUBA right away.

***

So far my experience with Ban's Diving School: AMAZING. Amazing view, amazing instruction, amazing facility, amazing rooms, amazing food, amazingly hot girls. If I'm being too subtle, I'll outright tell you that if you go to Thailand to learn to dive this place is highly recommended (apparently by the Lonely Planet as well). I mean, I learned about SCUBA and was looking at fish the same day--and mere metres away from where I am staying. I truly wish we had more time here, and if I can help it, I'm coming back (maybe yearly!) to do more SCUBA diving.

By the way, choosing Ban's was Errol's decision. Good job and full marks to Errol on this one for sure!

2006-11-06T14:58:00.000-08:00

Ko Phangan - Day Two

My second night in Ko Phangan was looking to be a quiet one.

Dee, Doug, Errol and myself spent much of the day recovering from our respective experiences at the Full Moon Party and watched movies and ate at the resort restaurant. I socialized a bit with Stacey and Caroline (both from London), Cici (from Ohio), and met more young travelers/partiers from around the world. One very attractive and lively woman from the UK impressed upon me that we should all go to the post party (which Caroline said was often better, since the more hardcore partiers were attracted to it). So off we went.

***

Along the way, this young spirited guy from Finland, Andreas went on and on how the Thai were shocked at the amount the Scandinavians could drink (apparently a few Thais had invited him to sample some rice whisky--thinking it would be a bit of a laugh and almost choked in surprise when he downed it without so much as a cough and said it 'wasn't that bad').

Of course, life got a little more surreal for Andreas and all of us sharing the big tuk tuk (there's another name for them in Thai but I truly forget what they would otherwise be called) when it stopped to pick up three very attractive, scantily clad Thai women-one of whom decided to sit on Andreas' lap for the duration of the trip.

Of course, that left us all guessing whether or not these three women were even women at all. As it turns out, the one that had been sitting on Andreas' lap was clearly not a woman based on the tenor of her (his) voice. Only in Thailand!

***

Later that night I chastized this very hardnosed and attractive Israeli girl for so readily dismissing a guy that tried to get her to dance with him. A few minutes later she was dancing with me and not much longer we were, um, being social.

Of course, when she decided it was time to go, she simply let me know she had to go, kissed me and was off. Only in Thailand!

2006-11-05T15:18:00.000-08:00

Ko Phangan - Day One -- Full Moon Party

All friendships go through ups and downs, and while Errol and I have a more durable friendship than most--even we get tested.

The last few days have been rough on Errol---recent events in Bangkok resulting us in being over charged for suits (note to self: listen to your gut no matter what--every time you don't you get into trouble), Errol being sick with food poisoning, Telus stock plumeting and a two day, sometimes strenuous, train ride across Thailand left him in a somewhat rotten mood.

I, myself am more used to travelling alone. When you travel alone--you make mistakes, but they are your mistakes, and when you have successes, they are also yours alone.

In this case, while we were sitting at a somewhat deserted train station cafe in San Thani waiting for our bus to arrive--it seemed to me that Errol wanted to take control over negotiations/arrangements to get from Ko Samui to Ko Phangan.

Actually, I wanted to do some inquiries and he just wanted to wait to see if the prices would be posted before entering into negotiations. His concern was well founded but I interpreted it to mean he wanted to handle these arrangments and just left it to him to negotiate and retreated mentally into the shell of my mp3 audio player.

However, a few hours later, it wasn't going well and because of the problems in finding a connection from one travel companies connections to a cheaper alternative, Errol wasn't having a good time. This, plus recent financial woes and psychological stresses, partly resulted in Errol totally blowing up at me when I questioned whether we shouldn't just take the convenient boat connection in this instance since the cost was low.

***

Finally we arrived at Ko Phangan and got to recharge with some new friends met there. Quite a young and fun party crowd of travellers with really basic accommodations on a beach front property right out of the movies. Absolutely gorgeous view. Errol later apologized for the outburst and everything is cool between us but its clear that we should give each other some space as best we can. The problem is that we are about to enter the some of the more difficult sections of our trip (i.e. northern India, and Africa) where sticking together is probably wise--so chance to give each other greater quarter will be few and far in a matter of weeks.

***

Later that evening I found myself sitting by the beach, reading some article in The Economist about Middle East politics when I met Cici--a woman from Ohio who had been living in Japan. She was doing an internship and working at an organic farm not far from Tokyo and quite enjoying the break. We were also joined by Vicky and Chloe--Londoners---we all watched the gorgeous sunset together, drank beers and made plans for the full moon party.

***

Naturally, the best laid plans of mice and man fall apart and Cici, Vicky and Chloe never met up. Instead, Errol, Doug , Dee and I headed out together. We were joined temporarily by a very drunk Janine (from the UK). Doug and Dee are very friend, intelligent and funny!!! They've been travelling for two years now and have a killers sense of humour. I quite enjoyed getting absolutely smashed with them. We wandered the bars, people watched, and decided to engage in the bucket drinking that everyone seems to love here.

The full moon party really wasn't what I thought it would be---I quite expected it to be much more of a Goa sort of rave situation--lots of people partyng on the beach with a few speakers--you know---a little more basic. Instead, the whole set up is a bit like a New Orleans Mardi Gras by the beach. A veritable mall of bars up and down Had Rin. Everywhere, there were drunken men and women from around the world, many of them absolutely gorgeous.

***

For most of the night Errol, Dee, and I explored the clubs--drinking a combination of Vodka Redbull and Coke--probably until around 4am when I got separated from them. That is when my adventures of the night really started to happen. Unfortuately, I'm not going to write about them just yet.

2006-11-02T04:09:00.000-08:00

Chiang Mai - Day Ten

Phew. All is getting reset, albeit slowly.

I have to say all in all its been a wild ride so far.

Today we have a chance to reset a little after the hair raising events of the last several days.

But--I digress, I'll summarize those events on the entries for those days. Today we finally got a few things done. First, we both got to rest up a little after the whole Buddhist monestary 'get up at 5am' thing. Second, we figured out a plan of attack to get to Ko Phagnon from Chiang Mai (and arranged for it!). Third, we got to exchange stories of what happened when we were separated on that night I ended up with that girl from Vancouver. Fourth, we paid for our suits, had the final fitting for them (they look great!). Fifth, we stocked up on a few supplies (hand sanitizer, etc).

Tomorrow the ride continues as we head on a two day trip by train across Thailand to the south. Wish us luck as the adventure continues.

2006-11-01T16:07:00.000-08:00

Chiang Mai - Day Nine

Its day two of our Buddhist Meditation Seminar held by the good folks at the "Monk Chat" Centre at Wat Suan Dok.

The centre life has been good and the deal has been great. Its basically free, and for nothing you get (a) instruction by the very amiable student monks in Buddhist culture and life (b) hours of guided meditation practice (c) three great meals (d) very clean accommodations at the Buddhist monestary/university.

Overall, I must say I've really enjoyed the experience. The people have been great--Julie from England, the four Canadian women, the girl from Italy, the American guy, Patrick from Slovakia, they have all been great. The monks have been quite friendly and seem really sincerely great guys.

***

2006-10-31T16:03:00.000-08:00

Chiang Mai - Day Eight

2006-10-30T06:18:00.000-08:00

Chiang Mai - Day Seven

Today Errol and I took a scheduled tour with a small eco-treking group to see two of the hill tribes North of Chiang Mai. Along the way, we rode elephants, and rode on simple yet elegant bamboo rafts along a slow moving river. We traversed rice fields with happy hunting dogs jumping by our sides with a guide that really knew and understood the place--the languages, history, medicines, ecology and cultures of the hill tribes. A sort of Crocodile Dundee of Thailand. A really amazing guy. The scenery was stunning--Thailand does not disappoint one iota.

In short, a kind of adventure. But that wasn't what was really on my mind when we were out there. Two other things were.

First, I was and continue to be worried about the puncture wound/gash I received on one of the hash runs. Its starting to ooze a bit, the flesh around the wound is stiffer than it should be, and I'm worried (a) that some of the wood which got me could still be in he wound; (b) it could be infected. So I phoned blue cross and hey recommended the name of a doctor so I'll be checking that out first thing tomorrow.

Second, my cell is not functional right now--no idea why until tonight when I spent over $20 on calling cards to chat with them and run through some attempts. Currently I can receive calls but not make them.

Third, on top of all of that, my debit card keeps coming up with 'incorrect pin number' messages.

So, access to money-access to communication--and health have all been compromisd in some way--or at least challenged.

Its times like this that I recall that old adage along the lines of 'adventure is challenge in retrospect'.

Well, if thats the case, I'm knee deep in it.

***

I suppose one last thing was on my mind all day, was the evening I had last night with a hasher from Vancouver I met recently by the hash name of 'Beheader' (her real name was Shawn). I could go on about that evening, but I won't.

2006-10-29T02:39:00.000-08:00

Chiang Mai - Day Six

I'm exhausted. Not in a necessarily bad way either. Just really tired. Its partially a physical exhaustion--having run my ass of yesterday plus drank it off later in the evening (oh yeah, and get injured in the process). Its partly an emotional exhaustion after having danced the night away with some local girls recently and then found I pissed one off that liked me by not phoning when I said I would (Note: New commercial jingle of Jason Fung--managing to upset girls around the world). Partly intellectually tired from having been on the road for some time and needing a chance to recharge.

We had discussed the possibility of going to this one wat (temple) which was described in the Lonely Planet as offering a English language seminars in Buddhism and meditation. How cool would that be? A chance to learn about Buddhism and meditation from people that have devoted their lives to it. Well, as it turns out, the Lonely Planet noted they offered the courses on Sunday afternoon to the following Monday every week. In reality , they had changed the courses such that they were offered on Monday and Tuesday of every week. Doh!

Ah well, as a result we get to see the closing ceremonies of Interhash, enjoy the company of our visiting friends from the Edmonton Hash House Harriers and a couple hours relaxing drinking coffee, enjoying reading some magazines, and taking a breather.

Perfect.

2006-10-28T02:20:00.000-07:00

Chiang Mai - Day Five

A crazy day full of running, (including an injury and quicksand type of emergency), food, hash camraderie, drinking, and eating.

2006-10-27T10:36:00.000-07:00

Chiang Mai - Day Four

A fairly uneventful day. Travelled to Doi Suthep (amazing temple). Errol got motion sick along the way. Hooked up with a tour group who then got angry at us for wanting to share their tuk tuk on the way down (we had negotiated separately with the tuk tuk driver).

2006-10-26T12:40:00.000-07:00

Chiang Mai - Day Three

Wandered the streets in the early morning a bit out of it, visited the amazing Temple "Wat Phra Singh", dinner at Kafe, met Joanne (from NZ), drinks at the "Sticky Rice Blues Bar".

It was a wild night!