Lost in Place . . .

Hittin' the Rails

2010-03-18T16:45:00.000-07:00

When given the choice between planes, trains, and automobiles, I am usually either forced to fly due to time constraints or to drive due to financial limitations. Every once in a while I am in the lucky position to be able to make a journey via train, and I have yet to be disappointed when I do. It takes a few more hours than flying and it costs a bit more than driving, but it is a relaxing and entertaining part of the adventure.

Right now I’m sitting in the “sight seer lounge” (sp?) which is an open car with lots of windows and lots of AC outlets to power my phone, laptop, and ipod, which means I can drink fresh coffee, look out on the Arkansas countryside, listen to my favorite music while I blog about it all. I won’t even give Greyhound (grrrrrr) the compliment of a comparison with Amtrak’s level of service – friendly staff, clean facilities, hot meals, and a relaxing atmosphere. Don’t get me wrong, I have a deep and undying love for roadtrips, but when I want a stress-free way to pass through 1000 miles, the train is the only way to go, especially for a short trip because 16 hours of solo driving has a way of draining all mental and physical energy, not to mention the inherent danger involved in cross-country interstate driving.

I’m tempted at this point to begin a diatribe about how the most well developed country in the world has one of the pitiful rail systems in the country and that came to be (we had a widespread rail system that fell into disrepair in favor of the interstate highway system), but I won’t. I’m not going to describe how India and China, two of the poorest countries in the world have a extremely efficient, well-utilized, and compressive train systems. I’m also not going to get started on how the government-owned Amtrak system is forced to pay to use private rail lines that were built with extensive government subsidies. Not only do taxpayers have to pay to use rail lines that were put in place thanks to government assistance, but Amtrak trains are directed as the lowest priority with all private freight trains receiving preference. What does this mean? I am now an hour and a half late because we have been forced three times to stop and let freight trains pass, something that Amtrak has no control over because rail lines are privately owned and controlled. I’m also not going to begin a tirade about how the government acts as a buttress for big business rather than a regulator safeguarding the peoples’ rights from the greed of massive corporate automatons. No really, I don’t have time for that tirade. Well, actually I do have time since I have nine more hours of train left, but I’d rather spend that thinking about my stupid-cute niece and nephew in Missouri rather than the pseudo-fascist state of our nation.

So far my loose and ever-evolving use of this blog has been to describe my experiences in the variety places that I have visited, but as a proud new uncle I can’t help but to post pictures of my little sister’s twin babies, Mason and Madelyn, who happen to be the cutest babies in the world (to me anyway).

Terror by any other name . . .

2010-02-22T18:50:00.000-08:00

I thought I would write a quick blog since Austin has been all over the news recently. Unfortunately it wasn't the progressive technology rich aspect of the city that made news, it was the violent extreme right-wing element that caught the nation's attention.

The most interesting aspect of the attack to me was not the rants or motive of the assailant, but the official and public reaction. After the initial panic caused by 9/11 flashbacks, everyone I know was immediately relieved that it was just a rankled anti-tax nut. "Whew, I thought it was a terrorist attack" was a common refrain. What? Isn't this terrorism? A violent act against the state, right? When I questioned people, it became clear that the term terrorism is inextricably linked to Muslim perpetrators in many people's minds. Terrorism is terrorism, regardless of the race or religion of the perpetrators.

Here is an article, I'm sure there are better out there, but this is the best I could find that touches on the inherent racism that the terrorism label has developed.

Writing for Survival

2010-01-25T04:52:00.000-08:00

I know, it has been over a month since my last post. Last fall it seemed like such a good idea to re-start this blog so that I could keep polishing my writing skills and share my life with those who are patient enough to read my blog regularly. Now that I have a challenging new job as a Special Education teacher, I find myself writing every day, but not for pleasure, just for survival. I write, on average, about thirty to forty emails a day, not to mention the standardized tests, individual education plans, lesson plans, and professional self-reports that I have to write daily. If you don't know what any of those things are, don't worry, they aren't terribly exciting and you are best left guessing. The point is that at the end of the day I have no energy to sit down and reflect further upon my experiences, it would just be another chore - just more paragraphs to churn out - and I really don't need more chores right now. So I'm probably not going to post for some time.

I feel like this post may be like standing in an empty room and telling everyone to go home - pointless because my sporadic posting has alienated and bored whatever readership I had developed over the past year and a half. I think I'm just going to be on a quasi-hiatus from posting; maybe feeling like no one is expecting me to write will make posting more enjoyable and less like a chore. Who knows. In the meantime, don't hold your breath until my next post.

Exciting News!

2009-12-17T19:04:00.000-08:00

I got a job! Well, I already had a job, but now I have a REAL job - I'm the newest Special Education Teacher at Akins High School! I will have my own Life skills classroom that focuses on vocational training and skill development with an awesome group of students. I have been blogless the last few weeks partially due to preparing for this career leap: getting a portfolio together, interviewing, and now filling out the mountains of paperwork. There is no time to waste since I start as soon as I get back from Winter Break. I'll try to have a more detailed and thoughtful post in the next few weeks . . .

Is Diversity Always a Good Thing?

2009-12-05T16:17:00.000-08:00

Autism is either an epidemic or the most under-diagnosed mental condition in history. Currently 1 in 150 children born are diagnosed with some form of Autism. This is remarkable and alarming because medical science has almost no understanding of either the cause of the disorder or how to successfully treat it. We are truly in the pioneering stages of autism research - basically starting from scratch. One reason why autism is so puzzling is because it is so varied. Some individuals with autism are extremely intelligent and successful at school and work, but others are non-verbal and unable to live independently.

Autism is also extremely complex - some people have incredible abilities in certain areas (such as math savants [think Rainman] who can do incredible calculations effortlessly) but are unable to engage in a simple casual conversation. That is one of the fundamental commonalities of individuals with autism - difficulty with social communication. Understanding the perspective of others and successfully interacting with them is the biggest daily challenge for most people with autism, something most people take for granted every day.

Autism is usually viewed as a "defect" or "deficiency" by the medical and academic establishment, but there is a growing group of autistic individuals who are challenging this view. This movement is known as "neurodiversity" and has created the term "mentalism" to describe the discrimination experienced by those with cognitive differences. They argue that not only are individuals with autism not deficient, but that an autistic mind may actually be beneficial in a more technology infused world in which a logic-based calculating intelligence is valued and social interactions are mediated by text rather than natural language. In their view autism shouldn't be cured, it should be valued and supported as other kinds of diversity are valued.

One of the leaders of this movement is Amanda Baggs, a woman with autism who is an internet celebrity due to her prolific blogging and the youtube video below. She is a major contributor to the Neurodiversity website, which has a lot of interesting information about autism and mentalism.

Temple Grandin is a very different sort of autism celebrity. She is a successful author and has a doctorate in animal science specializing in humane treatment in slaughter houses. Here is a video of her describing her work with animals and how autism affects her life.

After years of interaction with autistic individuals, I don't know if I agree completely with the neurodiversity view, but it is very thought-provoking and it challenges many of the assumptions that educators and health professionals have about the condition. Maybe all forms of diversity, even cognitive, should be cherished rather than treated and eliminated.

Tests: Not Just for Students Anymore

2009-11-15T06:40:00.000-08:00

After a lifetime of school - 19 years to be exact - I am still taking tests. I am currently navigating through a bureaucratic maze in order to become a certified special education teacher and yesterday I took the state-mandated "TExES" (what a weird acronym) test. Unfortunately I can't relax yet, I have at least two more tests to take in the next year - one for Social Studies and another that covers "Pedagogy and Professional Responsibilities", whatever that means. I guess it is only fair that the state test us teachers since we tests students nearly to death every year.

The good news is that if I passed my test yesterday I am eligible to be hired as a full teacher on a one year probationary certificate. After one year of successful teaching, I will get the standard five year teaching certificate that is transferable to almost any state. That is a great benefit of teaching - you can find work pretty much anywhere. Guess which state is experiencing an acute teacher shortage - - Hawaii! Jess and I really have no intention of moving there, but it is nice to have as an option.

I am hoping to teach at Akins again next year, so now I just have to wait for a position to open up. In the meantime I am enjoying the beautiful autumn weather (70s and sunny all last week) and the changing colors. Since I was in India for winter last year, I am ready for some chilly weather, but a week in Missouri and New Hampshire will probably be enough to have me craving Austin's mild winter weather. Did I just mention Christmas vacation already? I can't get ahead of myself - still more tests to study for before I get to relax . . .

Almost Awesome Austin

2009-11-01T17:32:00.000-08:00

Right now in Austin, Texas it is exactly 72 degrees, near zero humidity, and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Absolutely perfect. If I had a magic control panel that could manipulate any and every aspect of the weather, I still couldn’t improve this Sunday afternoon. This is reason number one why Austin is awesome.

Austin has a lot going for it besides its 300+ sunny days a year and mild winters. For one, it is the “live music capital of the world”- at least that is the official slogan. Unfortunately I have only glimpsed at all the musical offerings in the city. Austin was also rated the least stressful city in the US last year out of the top 40 largest cities. Money magazine listed Austin as the # 3 “most livable big city” in 2009. Of course, Austin is primarily a university town, and is a haven for liberal politics in a very red state. It is also a center of the organic food movement, due in part to the Whole Foods headquarters located downtown. Add to this list lots of outdoor activities (mountain biking, rock climbing, kayaking, hiking) and amazing Mexican restaurants on every street and you have a killer city.

No city, not even Austin, is perfect. If I was more of a city person, perhaps I would be more at home here, but one factor limits my enjoyment of this city: IT IS TOO BIG! After two years in Missoula, Montana, Austin feels like NYC or LA. It is the 15th largest city in the country and traffic is atrocious. I live on the far south side of town, so getting myself to all the wonderful events downtown involves either a 15 minute car ride with 20 more minutes spent searching for parking, or an adventure on the bus system. It is possible to cycle most places, but it is not convenient on a regular basis. The North side of town? Forget about it around rush hour; traffic is often at a standstill. Luckily, I live only three miles from where I work, so cycling is easy.

All things considered, Austin is a very cool city. I just wish I had more time (and money) to enjoy all that is has to offer. For now I’m just happy to enjoy the incredible fall weather in the backyard.

Just a Glimpse of Student Talent

2009-10-27T08:55:00.000-07:00

Right now I have the pleasure of working one-on-one with an incredibly creative, funny, and interesting student who is skilled at making music and animation on the computer. Here is his New Wave News Part 1 of 4:

GoAnimate.com: New Wave News Part 2/4 by Victorx

All the music is original, and in my opinion, innovative and fun. I am lucky to get to work with such talent every day.

Still Lost in Place

2009-10-25T09:05:00.000-07:00

I'll be honest, it has been a nice two month break from blogging. For the last two months I have successfully fooled myself into believing that since I am living in the USA, working a real job, and sleeping in the same bed every night that I have no cross-cultural or self-reflective issues to share. Although the break from posting was nice, the reason for doing so was flawed. I realized that not only was I wrong to assume that my life in Austin doesn't warrant reflection, analysis, and research, but I am exceptionally happy that my career and setting are challenging. I always want to be in a situation in which my values, beliefs, and knowledge are questioned and tested. Working in a economically disadvantaged school with a seventy percent minority population only three hours north of the Mexican border is definitely such a situation.

Realizing that overseas travel is not necessarily more blog-worthy than living and working stateside is only part of my motivation for reviving this blog; I found myself craving a good post. Forcing myself to sit down, digest the week's events, and communicate them in written form to a diverse audience - hopefully in an interesting manner - is a really important intellectual exercise. Although I am currently completing a teacher certification course, this is the first time in my life that I am not either traveling or engaged in an academic program which requires critical thought and analytical writing. As an anthropology undergraduate and Intercultural Youth Development graduate student I was constantly being challenged to think and write. To think critically, analytically, and honestly and to communicate those thoughts through convincing and concise writing.

It is ironic, but not surprising, that I spend my days in a school but find my cerebral cortex shriveling into oblivion. It is not surprising because schools are not necessarily educational institutions. Even the worst schools do contain some pockets of learning, but they function primarily as a warehouse for youth. Obedience and training are the goals for most schools, not truly educating students. I may be cynical about the current state of public education, but I am sincerely optimistic that change can happen, both on an individual and institutional scale. The problems that I witness every day in public school - state mandated standardized tests, excessive size (2700+ students), horrendous school food, poorly trained teachers - are all being addressed by various programs. Change is not only possible, but it is already taking place in many schools across the country.

So I look forward to kick-starting my brain with posts like this about life in the (Republic of) Texas, my experiences in public education, any traveling Jess and I do in the area, the convoluted route to teacher certification, and whatever else comes up along the way. Here's just a taste of what I have learned about the Texan perspective:

I'm told "Don't Mess with Texas", but since I live here now I'm going to try to get away with it anyway.

Magnificently Mundane

2009-08-30T19:13:00.000-07:00

Grocery shopping, laundry, raking the lawn, and cooking. Usually considered hassles, these are all activities that I missed while traveling, so it is probably no coincidence that this is how I spent my weekend. Jess and I finally feel settled here in Austin, Texas and tomorrow I will begin my third week as an Assistant Special Education Teacher for “behaviorally challenged” high school students. Having a regular daily routine - getting up early, riding my bike to work, going to the gym, cooking dinner – is incredibly comforting after a year of constant uncertainty and movement. I need all the comfort I can get because y job is challenging and I am learning a great deal about education and Hispanic culture in the United States. Akins High School (2700+ students) has a 75% minority and 55% economically underprivileged student body – very different than Silex (120 students) which was 100% white.

I have hardly thought about this blog for the past month, probably because I am busy preparing for the new challenges that lie ahead, but I have not forgotten my last year of travels. I can’t say that I am able to use any of the specific knowledge or skills that I learned while abroad, but I am certain that I am now more confident and risk-taking thanks to my year of globe-trotting. Jumping into a stressful job in a new city seems like a break compared with hopping buses in a foreign country. During my last few weeks of traveling, I was sure that I wouldn’t want to pack my backpack again for a few years, but I was wrong. I’m already thinking about where I should spend my next summer vacation . . . Latin America perhaps?

Until my next excursion abroad, I’m putting this blog on hold. In the near future (after a blogging sabbatical) I will probably start a new blog which will be a forum for my political/economic/environmental/educational/philosophical thoughts, or at least posting of other people’s thoughts which express what I cannot.

A sincere thank you to those who took the time out of their day to read my disjointed and rambling thoughts. I can still be contacted via this blog, but of course you can always come down to Austin for a visit . . .

Staying Put But Moving On

2009-08-03T21:06:00.000-07:00

One of the great things about my year of wandering was the enormous amount of free time I had to read, relax, and just plain think. A new stage in my life is about to begin and my year of relaxed and contemplative nomadism is history - I forgot what it is like to be completely and honestly busy. My to-do list won't fit on a single page so I have zero time to actually absorb how the past year has affected me.

So here is the update: I made it home just fine and I am indescribably happy to be spending time with friends and family again. Hopefully a thoughtful and lengthier post will follow in order to tie everything together and wrap up this blog (for a while anyway).

Airport Aficionado

2009-07-18T08:03:00.000-07:00

It finally happened. It may have taken a year of hand-gesturing my way through seemingly insurmountable language barriers, eating mysterious food served in cheap and unhygienic restaurants, getting lost on incomprehensible byzantine bus routes, and sleeping in rooms ranging from bug and rat infested dungeons to hot and rancid closets, but it finally happened. I wouldn't change a minute of the last year because all of the challenges have given me what no luxury hotel or group tour packages never could; my “a-ha” travel moment.

My travel epiphany happened in London after my second night in a row of sleeping in an airport. First I spent the night in Almaty airport (small, quiet, and clean: **** I give it a four star rating) and the second in London Gatewick (constant loud announcements, but very comfortable seating and the security is not as intrusive as I feared: *** three stars). There is something about spending over 48 hours trying to sleep in busy public spaces that puts accommodation into perspective. Not only was I too broke to get a hotel either of these nights, but I was also too cheap to buy any food. So I spent my hours slicing block cheese and salami, scouting for good spots to snooze, and watching people from all walks of life filter in and out.

Needless to say, when I finally arrived at my hostel in Central London, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. Clean beds, hot showers, a locker to store my bag, and a free breakfast! What more could I want? Life was good. That is when it happened. I had just gotten out of a luxurious and unapologetically long hot shower when I heard a familiar sound; a midwestern college girl on a summer Eurotrip. I couldn't believe my ears, not because I was listening to a fellow midwesterner, but because she was complaining energetically. “I can't believe they put 15 people in these rooms . . . like do they even clean these showers? . . . only cereal and bread for breakfast, no thanks . . . London is like so confusing to get around, you know? . . . “ I won't pain you with the rest, but there was more, lots more. That was when I had my travel moment and realized how far I had come. On most points she was right – the rooms were crammed, the showers weren't spotless , and breakfast was a bit slim – but until I overheard my straight-outta-Iowa roommate's comments, I would never have thought about the negative aspects of the hostel. Until that moment I still felt like a rookie Yankee tourist, but hearing what a real rookie tourist sounds like helped me to realize how far I've come.

Scrimping and saving every Som, Yuan, Rupee, and Lyra I could for the past year put things into a different light. I am happy to sleep in an airport hall curled up on an uncomfortable bench if it saves me a few bucks which will allow me to travel for a few days longer, to see a few more sights, and to eat a few more meals of local food. In my “a-ha” moment I realized how this year of travel has changed me, and I believe for the better. I will no longer take the day-to-day luxuries of living in the US for granted . . . well, at least I will try to be mindful of these daily blessings for as long as possible. If you ever hear me complain about trivial inconveniences (“damn, my cell phone is out of battery!” or “the grocery store is out of skim milk again!”, or “this stupid internet connection is sooooo slow!”) please remind me of this post and the unconsciously annoying American who inspired it. I promise it will shut me up for a while.

But anyway - London:

Although I found Central London a bit sterile and cutesy, I enjoyed my three days wandering around the city. Just when I started thinking that the city was trying too hard to appear like a hyper-British stereotype with the goofy guards and red phone booths, I sat next to two old men in tweed jackets drinking tea, smoking pipes and discussing Charles Dickens in their finest Oxford accents – that's the kind of awesome British scene you can't concoct. True to its status as an international city, London is full of people from all over Africa, India, East Asia and Europe. The city is stupid expensive, but it is easy to walk around and all the museums are free. The National Gallery and Tate Modern art museums are world-class; I saw works by Van Gogh, Picasso, Monet, Matisse, Michaelangelo, and Leonardo DeVinci all in one day.

I am writing this from London's Heathrow Airport (intrusive security, obnoxious announcements, and very little seating ** */2 two and a half stars) after a less than restful night. (Now that I am an expert on free airport accommodation, maybe I should start a website in which people can find and post information about sleeping in airports around the world. Sounds like a good idea, right? It is, but someone beat me to it; www.sleepinginairports.net check it out for yourself) Since England is not known for its culinary specialties and London is bloody expensive, I've only been eating food I packed from Kyrgyzstan, which I am thoroughly tired of at this point. Luckily, in a matter of hours I will be in Toronto in the loving care of Jessica's mother, Marg Lewis, and then off to the serenity and beauty of Wabun to spend ten days relaxing, rejuvenating, and recuperating on the shores of Lake Temagami. I have already begun to focus on my next travel challenge; getting a job in Austin, Texas and getting admitted to an alternative teacher certification program for the following year. Wish me luck, with all I've read about the economic situation, I may need it.

Tourism Made Kyrgyzy

2009-07-01T02:40:00.002-07:00

Jess and I are still enjoying the rugged beauty of Kyrgyzstan, unfortunately, I am still unable to share this beauty with you because I can't seem to upload my photos. Rest assured, when I return there will be slide shows and photo albums galore, probably more than anyone cares to see. Until then, you'll have to settle for my vivid verbiage and picturesque prose.

One of the themes of my blog has been how tourism can and does negatively affect the developing world's cultures, economy, and environment. I am pleased to report that Kyrgyzstan has avoided this trap; the Kyrgyz have found a way to embrace tourism in a way that sustains its unique traditional culture and benefits local families who are engaged in the tourist industry. This was possible because of Kyrgyzstan's unique history. Before 1991 there was no international tourist industry in Kygyzstan because it was part of the Soviet Union and largely cut off from the rest of the world. When the USSR collapsed, Kygyzstan became an independent nation overnight for the first time in its history, and therefore had the unique opportunity to start its tourist industry from scratch. In an effort to avoid the problems experienced by other developing nations (such as Nepal, India, and Thailand) which have seen their most beautiful areas scarred by large-scale commercial tourism, an non-profit organization called Community Based Tourism was formed. CBT aims to connect international tourists with local families in order to promote and sustain local culture and lifestyle while giving tourists an authentic cultural immersion experience. The simple beauty of CBT is that it cuts out the middle-man; tourist money goes directly into the hands of the local families who act as guides, hosts, and interpreters. Families have control over their services, when they want to work, and how they want to portray their community and nation. This is much different than the kind of tourism I have seen in other parts of the world in which corporations are allowed to come into a community, buy the best property, spoil the environment, and then take a large profit while the locals are paid at a sub-standard wage.

Jess and I were able to enjoy this kind of "direct tourism" at Song Kol lake- a beautiful and remote high alpine lake. It is possible to reach the lake by jeep, but we opted for a two day horse trek with a Russian/German couple. Yes, a two day horse trek through the mountains of Kyrgyzstan - this is why I love to travel and why I love travelling with Jess. We spent nights in a where we had three traditional Kyrgyz meals a day. It was incredibly refreshing to be in a home rather than in a hotel or restaurant. Instead of being served by underpaid and overworked teenagers, we were hosted by a family who is happy to share their culture and customs.

We are now near lake Issyk-Kol, which is the second largest freshwater lake in the world (bonus points for anyone who knows the largest) and we will leave tomorrow for a three day trek into the mountains where there are lots of natural hot-springs. After that we have only one week left to explore the area and then return to Bishkek to spoil ourselves with nice food and beverage after a week of sleeping in a tent and drinking watery instant coffee.

I'll be back in Missouri in less than a month!

Kyrgyzstan at last!

2009-06-22T03:03:00.000-07:00

I'm sure you've noticed a steady decrease in posting frequency, and now that I'm out of China I have no excuse for not regularly updating. Of course Kyrgyzstan doesn't have internet kiosks at every turn, but it does have pretty much everything else that Jess and I could possibly hope for; friendly people, fresh food (although it is almost all meat), and endless gorgeous scenery. Since I have to make up for a lot of lost time, this blog will be more of a chronological catch-up on our doings over the past two weeks.

We arrived in Xinjiang after two epic train rides (50 hours total) and found that we were not really in China at all. The Uyghurs in Xinjiang speak an entirely different language (which Jess can speak a bit of), they eat entirely different food, and the landscape is mountainous and arrid. Spending a few days in Xinjiang was the perfect way to transition from China to Central Asia - we had the safety and security of China but with the sights and sounds of Central Asia. In our most adventurous travel move yet, we took a sleeper bus from Kashgar to Osh, Kyrgyzstan which travels over the remote Ishketar mountain pass. And remote it was. Once we finally got through Chinese and Kyrgyz customs, the road turned into a muddy horse-trail through the mountains. But back to the border experience; it provides the perfect illustration of how different the Kyrgyz and Chinese infrastructure differ. As the bus approached the border we were stopped three different times by Chinese border guards, all very professional and effecient, to make various checks. The actual passport control/customs checkpoint was a new building with x-rays for our luggage, a giant infrared thermometer (reportedly to detect if someone is ill or feverish), and even an electronic survey at the end through which we could express our level of satisfaction with the process! Complete with smiley and frowny faces! I've never had a more pleasent border crossing. We then all loaded back onto the bus and crossed the 7 kilometer "no man's land" to the Kyrgyz passport control and customs. The passport control building was a less than sturdy wooden shack with one guy entering in passport information. While we had our passports checked and stamped, a couple gaurds boarded the bus, looked around at our bags, stuck his head in the luggage compartment, and waved us on. The entire Kyrgyz check took no more than 20 minutes. It wasn't only the difference in professionalism and technological infrastructure that was striking, but the fact that China took almost two hours to let us out of their country, but Kyrgyzstan let us in with a casual 20 minute glance over. I don't share this anectodote to disparage Kyrgyzstan for being unprofessional; rather it just illustrates how different the very formal and strict Chinese goverment operates versus how the casual and lax Kyrgyz government works.

We arrived in Osh at the painful hour of 4:00 a.m. - before even the first call to prayer. Only half-awake, we wandered with two Japanese tourists through the bazaar until we came accross a suitable guesthouse, where we promptly crashed for a few hours before exploring the city. Osh is by all accounts an ancient city; 3000 years old and a significant silk-road hub. Our first mission was a simple one - breakfast. We sat down at a restaurant that appeared eerily similiar to a 1950's style diner and we were immediately dumbfounded by the menu. Although we have both studied Turkic languages, actually sitting down with a menu that is full of strange foods with names written in Cyrrilic is still very overwhelming. We ordered without having a clue what would be put in front of us. In the end we didn't do too bad - eggs, spam, bread, tea and mutton soup with potato. Not my idea of the perfect breakfast, but ordering blind from a menu could have ended worse. I thought we might be having a bit of a strange breakfast until we noticed that the two men sitting next to us were having a light breakfast of vodka and vodka. That's right - glasses of straight vodka for breakfast. At 8:00 a.m. on a Tuesday. I was aware of that the Russian's left a culture of vodka swilling behind them, but I was stunned by full glasses at breakfast. That is one Central Asian cultural practice that I am in no hurry to take up.

Over the next two days we got to know Osh and became more comfortable ordering mystery foods and trying to answer strangers who were convinced that we must speak Russian. Our next move was to the city of Jalalabat and then to the village of Arslanbob - which turned out to be a very good move. (Here is when I reach for my grab-bag of natural beauty cliches) Arslanbob is stunning, gorgeous, and strikingly beautiful - so much so that it seemed unreal at times. It is a small town located in a lush valley at the foot of a giant snow-capped mountain. The valley is full of clear rushing streams, hundreds of donkeys and horses, and Central Asia's largest walnut forest. No one knows why there is a huge walnut forest here, but it is thousands of years old and it is the source of all of Europe and America's walnut trees; Alexander the Great took some nuts with him when he ventured through this part of the world and brought them back to Greece. I can't verify that story, but I like it. We stayed in our tent in a local family's garden for a few dollars a night. The setting was perfect - baby chicks, a dozen bunnies, roses, a clear stream, and a picnic area where we could lay, drink tea, and read. I miss it already. We also hiked to two waterfalls and to a spot with a panoramic view of the valley.

As we were leaving our fairy-tale village, we met a Russian couple who have an itinerary which is similiar to our own, so we will be traveling together (thereby sharing cabs and cutting costs) for the next few days as we try to cut across some major mountains to get to the other side of the country. The best part is that they (obviously) speak Russian and will be able to get us around with ease.

I wish I could post photos, but my camera will not load onto my computer, but I will try to get photos up eventually. Of course, my time abroad is coming to a close very soon. It is hard not to spend all my time thinking about all the people I want to see and all the little things I miss about being home, but luckily we are in Kyrgyzstan and it has a way of taking all of one's attention, focus, and energy, leaving no time for home-sickness. But one month from now I'll be in North America - five weeks and I'll be in Missouri!

(I apologize for any and all grammatical and spelling errors, I have no time to proofread - consider it stream-of-consciousness style)

The Coolest Guide EVER

2009-06-08T03:09:00.000-07:00

China has put a block on blogs. This entry comes to you via an email to northern Ontario, Canada. Truly an international edition. M & D

If you are reading this then I managed to penetrate the Great Firewall again. My irregular access to blogger.com has created a backlog of topics that I want to write about; viewing the preserved body of Mao, hiking and camping on the Great Wall, the wonders of real Chinese cooking, expat life in Beijing, and our adventure getting a Kyrgyz visa. All of these topics are interesting (to me at least), but what I really want to share is how happy I am to be traveling with an expert in Chinese language, history, culture, and food. Jessica has been studying the many facets of Chinese civilization for over 12 years, including three years of living, working, and studying in China, which means I am incredibly lucky to have her as a personal tour guide through this immense and complex country.

As I wrote in my previous post, it can be difficult to travel in China due to the seemingly insurmountable language barrier. Jess is not only fluent in Mandarin, but she is also aware of cultural and social contexts of communication. This knowledge is just as important as linguistic skill in order to have successful conversation with people in China. Rather than feel intimidated by her level of immersion in a culture that is completely alien to me, I feel immersed myself because Jess has done an excellent job of sharing her skills and knowledge. She makes sure to include me in all daily interactions, such as negotiations with taxi drivers and jokes from waiters in restaurants, by translating to and for me. Her experience as an educator shines through when we are traveling – she is able to teach about profound cultural beliefs and practices from the most mundane conversations and activities. I could be here for a year on my own and not learn as much as I have in the past three weeks with Jess as a translator and guide.

A perfect example of how traveling with Jessica has opened a window into the Chinese way of thinking happened on the train from Beijing to Qinghai. There wasn't another foreigner, or anyone who spoke English, nearby (probably since we saved a few bucks by getting a cheap “hard seat” section) so we immediately were at the center of attention for many people. Then Jess spoke Chinese to our neighbor. Half of the train crowded around in awe to hear the white woman who can speak Chinese. The old man she spoke to was very interested in the US and what life is like there, how much bread costs, and why people pay so much to go to Harvard. The conversation eventually added a few more participants and before we knew it, we were discussing human rights, gun control, and economic inequity. It was so interesting to learn about what ordinary Chinese think of the US and of their own nation's position in the world. I had a number of similar conversations in Yangshuo with English students, but they are invariably wealthy, young, and progressive, so it was much more interesting to be able to communicate, albeit indirectly, with a regular Chinese person.

Hopefully I'll get time to write more in depth about the other topics I mentioned in the near future, but until then, here is the abbreviated highlight reel of the past week;

− On my last day in Beijing I went to Tiananmen Square and joined the procession past Mao Ze Dong's preserved corpse. A very weird experience; paying respects to a dead communist leader who killed millions in his revolution against capitalism in a thoroughly modern and increasingly wealthy city.
− Jess and I spent two days hiking on a completely wild and undeveloped section of the Great Wall just a few hours outside of Beijing. We camped the first night in a signal tour built in the 1300's and spent the second night in a village family home where we ate the best fresh trout I've ever tasted. Yes, that includes in Montana.
− I have learned to fully appreciate Chinese cuisine after many feasts in Beijing with all of Jess' friends who really know how and what to eat. Although the fancier meals were delicious and memorable, it is really the cheap street food which made the biggest impression. For fifty cents you can get a Jian Bing spicy, savory, egg-y pancake with cilantro and green onion. Don't knock it 'till you tried it.
− In Beijing we stayed with Jess' wonderfully accommodating friend Lucy who is a Chinese/English translator from England. We also spent lots of time with other people who Jess knows from her time in China. It was a really interesting window into what life is like for foreigners who decide to make Beijing their home.
− Kyrgyzstan, here we come. We spent more time than I would like to admit searching for the Kyrgyz embassy, which apparently has followed the Kyrgyz nomadic tradition by moving bi-annually. Long story short: we have our one month tourist visas and we will be traveling over the Irkeshtam Pass across the Tien Shen mountains from Xinjiang to Kyrgyzstan on June 15!!!!!

I am having technical difficulties posting pictures, but I should be able to get the up from Kyrgyzstan if not sooner. The next two weeks we are staying in a Tibetan village in the Qinghai province with a host family to relax, hike, and enjoy the slow pace of Chinese rural life. Then, off to the Western frontier of China to experience the Muslim/Turkic side of the country before we enter Kyrgyzstan. It is hard to believe that I will be back in Missouri in less than two months! I am anxious to get home, but it is important to live in the present . . .

Clean Streets or Freedom of Speech?

2009-05-24T00:31:00.000-07:00

FINALLY! At last I have managed to penetrate the "Great Firewall" that China has erected to censor information that may "pollute the minds of the people". Blogspot has recently been blocked, forcing me to download a program which uses a proxy server outside of China while simultaneously masking my IP address. Actually I don't understand what this program does, but for the first time in two weeks I am able to update. I wrote the post below about ten days ago, but it is still relevant. I hope to resume my weekly posting schedule, unless someone in the Chinese government internet police reads this and cuts me off from the net completely . . .

* * * * *

Clean, orderly, busy, polite. Words that come to mind when attempting to describe my impression of China thus far. It is difficult to give an objective summary of China because I am constantly comparing it to India. If I had visited China first, I have no doubt that a different list of words would have come to mind. Compared to India, China is infinitely clean and orderly: there is no litter on the streets, the traffic actually obeys rules, and farm animals don't roam the city unattended. The buses and trains are irrationally punctual (to the minute) and people actually seem to respect lines in public places, rather than the Indian custom of elbowing one's way to the front of any would-be line. Despite these reassuring norms, traveling here is more difficult than in India for one simple reason – if you don't speak Chinese, communication is nearly impossible. I've been lucky enough to have Chinese speakers with me nearly every day, but I had a really difficult time trying to find Jess' apartment in Kunming without a handy Chinese speaking accomplice. After several sessions of charades and me butchering the Chinese pronunciation of some key words, a taxi driver finally delivered me to Jessica's apartment, which is more aptly described as a penthouse due to its luxuriousness and spaciousness).

Besides the order, cleanliness, and lack of English, the most striking feature of China to me is the ubiquitous marketing and consumerism on every corner. Communist China? Hardly. China is communist in name only. Kunming, a city of 5-6 million, has a Louis Vutton and a Versace retail store. The streets are full of luxury cars which would make any American jealous. Health care isn't even free for Chinese citizens, which to me is the bare minimum requirement for a nation to be considered even mildly socialist. The only aspect of the socio-political system in China which sets it apart from the US or other industrialized Western nations is the complete lack of political freedom. The atmosphere is not as repressive as I expected; crossing the border was a breeze, the police seem indifferent to foreigners, and book stores carry some fairly controversial titles. Of course any vocal criticism of the government can and will be met with swift and severe action. I tried to broach this subject with the students I worked with in Yangshuo and they all denied having any complaints about their government. This apparent unquestioning acceptance of authority is difficult for me to comprehend. Having been raised in a culture and a household that prides itself on questioning authority, I find it difficult to relate to people who accept authoritarian rule of their lives, restrictions on their access to information, and limitations to their participation in the political process. I realize that I may never be able to relate to the average Chinese citizen because their behavior and beliefs are the product of a completely different cultural system which is the result of 6,000 of history and philosophy of which I am wholly ignorant. I have only seen a very limited slice of this vast country, so I look forward to learning more and gaining some insight into the Chinese mindset over the coming weeks – all of which will be shared with you on this blog, of course.

It has been indescribably comforting to be back with Jess again after our second three and a half month separation; we have been spending the last few days catching up, relaxing, and enjoying Kunming's culinary offerings. We have only begun to plan out our Chinese and Kyrgyz itinerary for the next two months. My next post will be from Beijing! If there is a next post . . .

Planning Your Escape

2009-05-05T23:05:00.000-07:00

After talking to a friend the other day, I realized that although I've done a fair job of explaining why I decided to spend this year traveling and what I have been doing, I never really got around to explaining how I planned my travels. (Good point Zach) I have actually been meaning to write something, such as an article, for some sort of publication because I think this information is really timely – there are thousands of people graduating from high school and college in a month, but very few entry-level job openings. The silver lining of the grim economic situation is that it gives grads a good excuse to blow off the real-world for another year, and if I'm an expert on anything, it is blowing off the real-world of 9-5 jobs and bills.

I’ve probably explained most of this in previous posts, but that’s never stopped me before, so here it goes.

I'm sure the most common reason people choose not to travel for an extended period of time, besides fear and inertia, is that they think it will cost a fortune. Although it does require some saving, a trip like mine is surprisingly affordable. My entire trip, including all airfare, hotels, food, buses, visas, medicines – everything – was about $5,000. That may look like a lot of money, but that was everything I will spend for an entire year - can you live in the US for a year on $5,000? Probably not without canceling your cell phone, living with your parents, eating way too much noodle soup, and riding a bicycle everywhere. I saved enough for this trip in a year while making an embarrassingly small amount of money per hour in a social service job, so anyone can do it. Besides the five grand, my largest investment into the trip was time; I spent many, many hours researching volunteer sites, browsing Google Earth, and tweaking my spreadsheet budget. Planning was key, but it doesn't take any specific skills or knowledge, just an internet connection and some free-time.

My original plan involved going overland from London to Beijing to Kyrgyzstan with no air travel, not for any practical reason, I just thought it was a cool idea. This plan turned out to be impractical for two reasons; 1) traveling through the Middle East is really difficult (think Iran, Pakistan, and Afghanistan) 2) Western Europe would have sucked away my budget in a matter of weeks. This is the trick to making a year abroad affordable – avoid expensive countries. A day in London or Paris costs as much as a few weeks in India or China – no exaggeration. When I was putting my budget together I realized that I had to bypass almost all of Europe, which is why when I flew into London I didn't even leave the airport, I just camped out on uncomfortable airport furniture and waited for my flight to Bulgaria, the most budget-friendly destination in Europe with easy access to Turkey and Georgia.

Another key to keeping the year affordable was cutting down on food and accommodation expenses. Since the whole purpose of my trip was to volunteer at a variety of worthy organizations, this part was easy. Well, not easy since most organizations that host volunteers charge for the privilege. In theory I have no problem with this arrangement, really it is quite fair for a non-profit organization to expect volunteers to cover their food and lodging expenses, but I simply couldn't afford to pay to volunteer, so I only chose organizations which provide free food and accommodation in exchange for my work. WWOOF (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms) is one of the best organizations offering a simple exchange of room and board for volunteer work. WWOOF has member farms in nearly every country in the world, and it was through WWOOF that I ended up building a straw-bale house in Bulgaria and helping kids with disabilities in Georgia. I came across the rest of my volunteer sites through good ol' fashioned Googling, lots and lots of Googling. I realize not every shares my interests, but since most people live in a house of some kind, eat food daily, and will someday have children, there are lots of volunteer opportunities (building, farming, and working with kids) which are relevant to everyone.

Between volunteer gigs, Couchsurfing is a really cool way to avoid paying for a hotel room. This is just a website (kind of like Facebook, except it actually has a purpose) which matches hosts with guests. No money changes hands, it is just expected that those who host will eventually be guests and vice-versa. Last year Jess and I hosted a few surfers in Missoula, so this year I'm doing the surfing – just next week I'm staying two nights at a guy's house in Hong Kong. Not only will I save a fair bit of money, but I get to stay with a local who knows the best places to eat, shop, explore, etc. Couchsurfing and volunteering are great for saving money, but it isn’t necessary to completely avoid the occasional luxury, especially in more affordable places. Jess and I didn’t couchsurf or volunteer for five out of the six weeks she was in India; we stayed in moderately priced (dirt-cheap by American standards) hotels in really beautiful places, ate in restaurants at least twice a day, and did a fair amount of shopping. As I look back, those five weeks without volunteering or staying in other people’s homes were integral in keeping my sanity, but by the end I was ready to be cheap and productive again.

That's really it. Anyone can put together a trip of a lifetime; it just takes a lot of time and less money than most people spend on gas and vehicle maintenance each year. I think it's worth every penny, and the real-world will always be waiting for you when you get back.

* * * * *

I'm still enjoying the easy-going expat lifestyle here in Yangshuo. My days have been filled with biking, hiking, climbing, swimming and lots of ping-pong games at the school with the Chinese students. I may not learn much Chinese while I'm here, but at least I'll come away with some Pong skills. I only have five more days here and then I head to Kunming to meet Jess!!! Finally!!

What day is it again?

2009-04-25T21:37:00.000-07:00

Every morning after I wake up, I look out the window, brush my teeth and question if I have really woken up or if I am having a surreal dream set in Middle Earth or some other fantastical fictional world. Yangshuo is incredibly, uniquely, and naturally stunning (I know I may have overused this word by now on this blog, but just check out these pictures!). The crazy rock formations, apparently known as “karsts” are everywhere, covered in lush vegetation and casting imposing asymmetrical shadows over the winding rivers and geometrically shaped rice paddies that fill the rest of the landscape.

ZhuoYoe English College is a generous and hospitable host, maybe too much so since the volunteer rooms have been completely full since I have arrived. The school was kind enough to put me up in the home of a staff member with an elderly Chinese couple for the first few days. I'm glad I had the experience of living with a Chinese family, but the language barrier was insurmountable and it is nice to now be living with the rest of the volunteers. Most living/working experiences are made either enjoyable or miserable by other people, and living in Yangshuo is no exception - thankfully I am surrounded by some seriously cool, interesting, and nice people from all over the world. I've hardly had a chance to rest, much less blog, email or contact anyone, since arriving because there is always a group going biking, climbing, swimming or hiking. It is a nice feeling to be perpetually busy while simultaneously having almost no responsibility. Luckily most of these activities that fill my days are cheap, or in the case of swimming and hiking, free. This is exactly what I wanted after a month of living in a crowded and dirty city doing a computer-based project; I finally have unlimited access to fresh air and outdoor activities.

The actual “work” that I do in order to earn my free food and room is actually one of the most interesting parts of my day. The role of volunteers is to engage the Chinese students in “Social Class” - which is just conversation practice - for two hours a day, four days a week. In a town with so many travelers (Yangshuo attracts a lot of backpackers) it is really nice to have the opportunity to converse with Chinese people, especially since the students at the school come from different generations, regions, and ethnic groups. Each table of two volunteers and four or five students is given a general topic and discussion questions, all of which are promptly ignored in favor or more interesting conversations about pop culture, dating, and personal histories. Conversation tends to flow more naturally thanks to the Chinese students' eagerness to practice English and learn about Western culture.

* * * * *

It's been a few days since I wrote the paragraphs above, and the pace hasn't let up yet. Today I am sequestering myself inside my room to give my body a break from the non-stop activity during the day and the nightly trips to the local watering hole. Yesterday I took a long but fun day-trip to the Li Jiang rice terraces about 100 km from Yangshuo with three awesome traveling companions. Two of our group – Natasia and True – stayed the night on the terraces while Bartosh and I made a feeble attempt at hitchhiking back, and then decided to take the easy route and hopped on buses. Although most of the day was spent on tiny Chinese buses, we were rewarded with some amazing scenery which is the result of thousands of years of back-breaking labor. Check out these pictures and my other Yangshuo photos to get an idea of what I've been trying to put into words.

I have two weeks left here, so I'm going to try to rock-climb a few more times and maybe pick up some broken Chinese. Then, after our second epic (three and a half month) separation, Jess and I will reunite in Kunming – this time for good. After that, who knows. We will eventually make it to Beijing and then head West to Xinjiang and Kyrgyzstan, but for now it is one day at a time.

Hong Kong - Who Knew?

2009-04-17T22:57:00.000-07:00

Hong Kong was never on my list of "must see" places and it only ended up on my itinerary out of convenience; it was the cheapest entry point to China from India. Maybe it was because I just left one of the dirtiest and most inconvenient cities in the world (Delhi), but Hong Kong felt like a surreal paradise - a seamless blend of natural beauty, cutting-edge technology, and international sophistication. The streets are pedestrian-friendly and spotless, the buildings are super-sleek and modern, the traffic is calm and well-controlled, and there is green space everywhere! There are literally sky-scrapers and high rise apartments that are surrounded by forests! There is nothing resembling the homogenized, endless sprawl that characterizes most US cities, the development in Hong Kong has apparently been tightly controlled, thus there are trees and undeveloped land within reach of everywhere. On my second morning I my host's apartment looking for a place for a jog, and within TWO MINUTES I was on a path surrounded by the forest! I didn't see another person the entire time, but I did see animals scurrying around, birds singing in the trees, and high-rise buildings only a few hundred feet away - a really cool mix of urban lifestyle with natural surroundings.

As much as I admire Hong Kong for being possibly the most beautiful and liveable city I've seen, it is almost entirely based on commerce. Apparently shopping is the chief recreational activity of the population, or at least the tourists. Electronics, designer clothes, gourmet foods - all stuff that I don't care to look at and can't afford to buy. Since shopping wasn't an option, I ran through Hong Kong's tourist attractions in one full day of walking/tram-riding/subway-hopping. The city isn't terribly expensive, but since I'm used to Indian prices I couldn't bear to pay for anything other than cheap snacks from 7-11. I was also anxious to keep moving since mainland China was only a 30 tram ride to the north, so yesterday I headed to the Chinese "border". It isn't really a border since Hong Kong is a part of China, but since it has a significant degree of autonomy, it is treated as a separate territory. I had to get my passport stamped, show my Chinese visa (which isn't needed to get to Hong Kong) and go through customs. I was shocked by how smooth it all went (much, much easier than getting into Canada!) and before I knew it I was in the Motherland.

The rest was easy - I just found someone who spoke some English and took me to the ticket booth for Yangshuo buses, and viola - I arrived here in Yangshuo at the mind-numbing hour of 5:00 a.m. Blah, needless to say I'm tired, so I'm taking it easy today. I met up with my supervisor at the English College, and I can already tell this will be a VERY laid-back volunteer experience. One unexpected twist is that I'm staying with a Chinese family rather than in a volunteer dorm - at least for the time being. So far it's really nice - my first meal in china was a home-cooked pork and potato hotpot with rice. It will take a while to get over Indian food, but I'm sure I won't stave while I'm here. Tomorrow is a group bike trip to a local village - fresh air and green scenery! The perfect antidote to a month in a clausterphobia/asthma inducing Bhopal!

"I Liked It"

2009-04-10T02:35:00.000-07:00

I’m trying to savor my last few days in India; returning smiles and giving my best “Nemaste” to the dozens of strangers who greet me each day, indulging in the amazing flavors concocted by the food stalls that line every street, and attempting to capture in pictures the unique blend of modernity and tradition found on every corner. I’ve been in India for almost five months, but in some ways I’m not ready to go – there are still large regions of the country that I have yet to visit and countless foods and activities that I have yet to try. Of course that just gives me an excuse to return. The polluted and frenzied streets of Bhopal will not be missed, but overall I would be very happy to spend another five months in India, especially if I could travel north to the Himalayas. Next time . . .

Of all the destinations on my itinerary, I think India caused my family and friends the most anxiety, and it’s no mystery why. India doesn’t get into the news unless 1) they are on the brink of nuclear war with Pakistan 2) there was a major natural disaster 3) a famine or disease kills thousands. Positive information about India rarely makes it into the headlines, but despite its many problems and ever-present poverty, India is a wonderful, and safe, place to travel.

The perfect example of India's relative safety is my nightly outing to the vegetable market here in Bhopal. For the past few weeks it has been stupid-hot (40 degrees C = 104 degrees F), so during the day I try to stay in the shade, preferably with a fan nearby. I don’t venture out into the streets until after dark, around 7 or 8, when the unforgiving sun has disappeared and the air has cooled to a tolerable temperature. To get to the fruit and vegetable market, I walk through the surrounding “bustees” (a.k.a. slum, but that term seems like a really insulting way to refer to people’s homes and neighborhoods). I walk alone, obviously a rich foreigner, through some of the most economically depressed areas of the city. I feel very safe because I have been reassured by many locals that there is no threat of random or violent crime in the area and because the streets ARE safe. This lack of crime isn’t due to any police presence actually I’ve never seen a single policeman in the neighborhood (which puts me more at ease because the police are notoriously corrupt). The area is safe because the streets are not controlled by criminals, but by the community as a whole. They don’t have a formal neighborhood watch program like in American suburbs, but that is exactly what they do to the same effect. If someone was to attempt to mug or attack me, people wouldn’t shut themselves in their homes and call the police, they would take matters into their own hands. Of course would-be criminals know this, which is why they don’t even try. While I’m walking around at night, I see old ladies and children walking alone – a sure sign that things are safe. I can’t imagine walking alone in most economically depressed inner-city neighborhoods in the US. Even driving through some of these neighborhoods at night is a dangerous proposition because the streets are controlled not by families or the community leaders, but by youth who are predisposed to crime. I don’t mean to sound prejudiced against American inner-city youth, but rather to make the point that inner-city poverty does not necessarily equate crime.

The most poignant aspect of this distinction between inner-cities in the US and “slums” in India is that the poor Indians who ensure my safety on the streets are suffering due to an American company which poisoned them and then refused to provide compensation, not the mention the suffering caused by the incessant economic exploitation that I’ve already railed on in numerous posts. They have every right to be angry at a rich white guy walking down their streets, but I have not once encountered even a hint of rudeness or confrontation. Also, unbelievably, in five months here I have only been noticeably overcharged ONCE – and this is out of countless daily transactions all over the country. Of course more people tried to get some extra out of me, but a little bargaining always brought the price down to a fair level. The rest of the world, especially the ‘developed’ world of the West, can learn a great deal from India about hospitality, honesty, and forgiveness.

Another reason why I love India can be summed up in one word – diversity. Few other countries have the diversity of landscapes found in India; vast deserts in Rajasthan, dense jungles in Tamil Nadu, majestic mountains in the North, the unique backwaters of Kerala, and impeccable beaches in Goa. The US may have a comparable amount of geographic diversity, but it is no match for India’s cultural, linguistic, and religious diversity. It is only through the history of colonization by the British that India exists as one country – within India are hundreds of regional cultures with their distinct religion, language, and traditions. There are literally hundreds of different languages spoken here and only English, and to some extent Hindi, operate as a national language. India is better thought of as a continent, such as Europe, with diverse languages and distinct cultures, except Europeans probably have more in common with one another than Indians do, especially in regard to religion. In fact, all major world religions have a major presence in India – Hinduism, Buddhism, Sikhism, Christianity, and Islam – and three out of those five began here. For someone who spent the first 20+ years of his life in a mono-cultural, racially homogenous, Christian dominated region of US, India is simultaneously fascinating and overwhelming.

* * *

I have already been asked, and expect to get asked more in the future, the obvious question, “what do you think of India – did you like it?” My answers up to this point been evasive because I thought it was presumptuous to give a thumbs-up or thumbs-down on an entire continent – there are things about India I like and things I don’t like. Now, as reflect on how incredible it is that a country containing a billion diverse and mostly impoverished people continues to function as a democracy, I feel confident giving a much more simple answer: “I liked it”.

The First (and probably last) Meeting of Lukin's Book Club

2009-04-02T05:00:00.000-07:00

One of the best things about traveling is that I have a lot of time to read. While the wireless internet here at the clinic is a distraction, I am still managing to get into some interesting books. While I've always been an avid reader, my professors and teachers have always dictated in what text my nose was to be buried, at least for 10 months of the year. Now, for the first time in my life, I have complete literary freedom. This new-found freedom is refreshing, but it can be overwhelming when I am confronted by thousands of books, all for only two or three dollars, but only a small backpack in which to put them. I’ve been told not to judge a book by its cover, but I’ve never been informed of a better way to discover new and interesting authors and titles in a heap (literally, there are piles upon piles of used books on the street) of books.

I've been putting together this list for the last few months to share some books that really deserve to be read, so here it is:

Top Ten Books I’ve Stumbled Across While Traveling

1. The Sane Society; Eric Fromm

Is it possible that this book was written almost fifty years ago? Fromme describes the current ills of our society with such timely precision that it is as if he is from the future rather than the past; his prose is a warning to us all about the consequences of the world's current socio-economic system. He is a psychologist by training, but his insights are primarily sociological in nature. In a sense he is looking at modern society as a disturbed psychiatric patient; not surprisingly the similarities are striking and the prognosis is grim. He is not a radical or a revolutionary, just an extremely intelligent and insightful observer of human nature at the individual and social levels. I have no idea why he is not recognized as one of his century's greatest social thinkers.

2. Train to Pakistan; Kushwant Singh

This is the first book I read after arriving in India – a short and simple parable by one of India's most famous writers. Kushwant Singh, a Sikh who is from the Punjab region of India and Pakistan, is a the author of dozens of books, both fiction and non-fiction, a former member of parliament, and an out-spoken critic of sectarian violence – a much needed renaissance man in India. Train to Pakistan tells the story of a small town torn apart during the 1947 partition of India and Pakistan. The book's power lies in its simplicity; it conveys a great deal about India's past and future almost effortlessly. If would liken it to India's “Of Mice and Men”. A quick, easy, and poignant read for those interested in one of the world’s greatest post-colonial tragedies.

3. Omnivore's Dilemma; Michael Pollan

Should be required reading for everyone who eats, purchases, or produces food. So, yeah, pretty much everyone. Pollan uses his skills as a journalist to look in-depth at the industrial food chain which monopolizes food production and distribution in the United States. Why did it take so long for a book like this to be written? After reading “Omnivore's Dilemma” you will never think about food the same way again; why should you? Why is it that we purchase food the same way we buy socks and laundry detergent – as cheaply as possible from big-box stores owned by massive corporations that have absolutely no vested interest in our health or the preservation of the environment? It is time we all take the food we eat more seriously for the sake of our health, the environment, and the economy.

4. An Ordinary Person's Guide to Empire; Arundhati Roy

She took the words right out of my mouth! Actually that is an exaggeration because I'm not gifted enough with language to have a mouth full of such expressive words and clever phrases. As the author of one of the best novels I've ever read (See #5: The God of Small Things) and this accessible, piercing critique of the American led trans-national economic empire, Arundhati Roy is officially my new hero. I don't know if she strives to be the next Noam Chomsky, but this collection of essays and speeches puts her at the forefront of a growing group of writers with the intellectual courage and historical perspective necessary to challenge corporate power's domination over human rights and national sovereignty. If you aren't angry after reading this book, you should either; A) read it again, B) travel to an impoverished part of the world to better understand the book’s perspective, or C) go back to your cubicle and work for the man.

5. The God of Small Things; Arundhati Roy

Storytelling at its best; enjoyable, thought-provoking, heartbreaking, and original. God of Small Things makes me want to go back to school and study literature because if there are more books out there like this, I want to read them. Of course it helps that I had just visited Kerala, which is the setting of the story and the author's state, but it is accessible to those who have no previous knowledge of the region. I think this might have been an Oprah book club pick, which is why I avoided it previously.

6. No Logo; Naomi Klein

Advertisements, logos, and brands permeate nearly every aspect of life in the developed world. According to Klein, we no longer purchase products, we buy brands. This idea is not revolutionary in itself, but Klein dives much deeper into this fundamental shift in consumerism and corporate behavior. This well-researched and comprehensive book succeeds in explaining how sweat-shop labor in the third world, sports stars who earn millions in endorsements, retail jobs that pay less than a living wage, and the decline of small businesses are all the result of the same process - branding. Branding has one overarching theme; the consolidation of economic power in the hands of a few very powerful corporations which are pathologically driven by the profit motive.

7. Karma Cola; Gita Mehta

This anthology of short stories contains some of the most colorful and creative writing I've ever come across, thanks in part to the liberal use of Indish, a unique blend of English and Indian languages. The theme of the book is the sometimes tragic, sometimes comical meeting of Eastern religious traditions with Western spiritual seekers. A fun and light book on a really fascinating inter-cultural phenomenon.

8. Outliers; Malcom Gladwell

Gladwell used his entertaining writing and clear, creative thinking to produce two other bestselling books, Blink and Tipping Point. This latest effort, Outliers, is about what makes a person or a place a statistical anomaly. He does an excellent job of weaving together disparate subjects with his thesis that most outliers are products of cultural and historical factors rather than individual geniuses or freaks of nature.

Here are a few examples that struck a chord with me. (Warning – if you want to read the book, skip this paragraph!) All professional hockey players are talented, but most of them also are born in the beginning of a year, making them more competitive against their slightly younger peers and therefore receive more practice time and praise. The astounding murder rate in certain areas of the American South was not due to a group of homicidal maniacs, but most likely the result of the cultural significance of honor in the Scottish region from which the population migrated. Finally, there is no doubt that Bill Gates is intelligent, but he is the richest an in the world because he attended a high school that had one of the first mainframe computers in the country – and had nearly 24/7 access to it! All of these examples prove that the people we perceive as god-like due to their success are actually just at the right place at the right time; products of historical forces that make their existing talents and skills extremely successful.

9. Hard Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World; Haruki Murakami

If you want to read some creative contemporary fiction, here it is. Originally written in Japanese, this is a very difficult book to describe, so I won't try, but if you like an innovative plot and entertaining writing, check out this book. Next on my reading list is another Murakami – Kafka on the Shore.

10; Shantaram; Gregory Roberts

An international blockbuster that every white person in India seems to be reading. As much as I hate reading what is on the display racks at airports and touristy shops, I finally broke down and read this one. Just the story about how the book was written is enough to hook any tentative reader; the author escapes from a high-security Australian prison, flees to India where he becomes both a slum doctor and mafia kingpin, only to be thrown back into prison where he writes “Shantaram”. Although parts of this story are verifiable, most people agree that the details in the book are more fiction than fact. Either way, it is a hell of a read. Roberts' writing is strong, the plot is intricately woven, and the characters are fascinating. My only complaint is that certain parts read more like an action adventure screenplay than a novel, but I can't deny that it is a hard book to put down.

. . . . . . .

I have some reservations about linking these titles to Amazon.com because it is such a powerful retailing giant, but it provides so many ways to investigate a book and its author that I like using it to discover new books on specific topics and themes. Once you use Amazon's sophisticated tools to point you to interesting books, you can always simply write down the title and buy it elsewhere. See, I did learn something from No Logo an An Ordinary Person's Guide to Empire!

More about Bhopal, maybe even some pictures of the big lakes and mosques, sometime next week.

No More Bhopals - Part II

2009-03-26T22:14:00.000-07:00

I have spent the past few days developing instructional materials to encourage teachers in the US to teach their students about the Bhopal tragedy as a part of Social studies curriculum. While browsing other examples of social justice teaching materials, I came across an awesome video and accompanying site, “The Story of Stuff”. This video conveys more concepts and information about our global economic system than I learned in 6 years at university – and it is aimed at middle and high school students! It is simple without being patronizing, and clear but full of weighty ideas. It manages to connect the dots between the major trends of the last century – environmental degradation, third world poverty, the growth of corporate power, pollution and the resulting health problems, over-consumption in the developed world, and the explosion of marketing and advertising in the last half-century – and explains how these trends are all part of the same global system, the system that makes it possible for us to have so much stuff.

Watching this simple little video affected me in two ways. First, I realized that the Bhopal tragedy can not be taught without the proper context. Everyone in the world should be aware of the specific events that took place in 1984 and the tragic aftermath, but Bhopal must be viewed as one of many disastrous consequences of the global economic and political system, not as a isolated industrial accident. If studied in isolation, it is easy to conclude that improved safety standards can prevent a future accident – case closed. When studied in the appropriate context, it is impossible to ignore the larger problems that led to the disaster and its tragic aftermath. Bhopal can be used to illustrate so many abstract academic concepts;

Why was a US factory put into a poor section of an Indian city? Globalization and the trans-national movement of capital (economics), a growing market for synthetic fertilizers (agriculture), and environmental discrimination against the poor (sociology). What happened on the night of Dec 3rd, 1984? Lax safety restrictions due to poor management (organizational behavior), poisonous gas killed thousands with no emergency assistance (public heath). Why have the victims not received adequate compensation? No international body to penalize trans-national corporations (international relations), poor corporate ethics (economics), and prejudice against the poor and minority groups (sociology).

The “Story of Stuff” had another affect on me; it increased my desire to become an educator. I am passionate about social, environmental, and economic issues (an obvious fact considering my recent postings), so having a captive audience to educate about these issues is the perfect career move. Obviously I'll have to teach more than social justice issues, but a good teacher has a responsibility to teach his or her conscience. I can see myself becoming a teacher because informing the next generation about the world's problems is vitally important – but, of course, having summers off helps too.

The original intent of this post was to inform you how to help the Bhopalis cause. There are some specific things that can help, but I really believe that educating yourself about the tragedy, especially its economic context, is the most important way to express solidarity with the victims. Of course, donations to Sambhavna Clinic and the International Campaign for Justice in Bhopal are always appreciated. There is also a really awesome fundraiser, “Cycle Bhopal” which is a week-long bike ride across central India in November. Since most people can't afford this, the ICJB lists 20 Things You Can Do to Make Dow Responsible. On the 25th anniversary (December 3rd, 2009) there will be many opportunities to get involved and, hopefully, a lot of media focus on the issue.

Honestly, I don't expect you to picket a Dow office or plan a fundraiser, but I do hope that information about the Bhopal tragedy has led to increased awareness of the fundamental flaws of our global economic system; we need to rethink a system which allowed an organization to kill thousands of innocent people, poison thousands more, avoid the legal and financial consequences, and still operate successfully. Many of the Bhopal victims are illiterate, uneducated, and isolated from the world, but they have an sophisticated and painful understanding of the global economic system; it controls nearly every aspect of their lives but is not willfully blind to their needs, demands, or wishes.

* * * * *

I have reached the half-way point of my Bhopal stay. In about three weeks I'll be in the only other country as overwhelmingly large and complex as India - The People's Republic of China. I'll have to figure out how to get around all the censors and walls that the Chinese government uses to prevent people from putting controversial political messages on the internet. Don't be suprised if my posts from China are a little more tempered and mild - maybe even avoiding politics all together. I'm sure it is irrational to fear becoming a political prisoner, but China doesn't have the best human rights record and I don't have the best record of keeping my mouth shut. But in meantime I'll enjoy the relative freedom of India.

"No More Bhopals" Part 1

2009-03-21T07:48:00.000-07:00

Bhopal, with its crowded streets and choking pollution, may never feel like home, but I'm finally comfortable and settled here at Sambhavna Clinic. I now have a meaningful (although sometimes monotonous) project and I have become acquainted with the local microbiological fauna (my digestive system flushed itself clean thanks to some unknown bacteria in the water). So I’ve been enjoying the wireless internet, delicious Indian meals, and being a part of one of India's most innovative and progressive organizations.

It isn't hard to be comfortable here since they treat volunteers so well - I hardly have a reason to leave the property except to remind myself how lucky I am to be staying in this oasis of calm in a sea of chaos. Sambhavna is located in an impoverished, chaotic area for a reason – it is only meters away from the site of the Union Carbide pesticide factory which caused the world's worst industrial disaster 25 years ago. Union Carbide chose the slums of Bhopal because there was plenty of cheap labor, the property was inexpensive, and the disenfranchised neighborhood was unlikely to protest when the plant emitted foul gases or toxic materials.

My project is to digitize Sambhavna's comprehensive collection of news clippings concerning the gas tragedy. Every article ever written that is related to the gas leak and its aftermath is housed in the clinic's library. In order to make this information more durable and accessible to people doing research I am reading, scanning, and categorizing each article in chronological order. At times the project is really engaging – I get an in-depth look at the history of the tragedy and the legal battle that follows – but it can also be monotonous – scan, save, scan, save, scan, save. I'm just happy to be contributing in a measurable way. Once the project is complete, researchers and lawyers will be able to make use of the database of articles without having to come to Bhopal, they can just download pop in a disc.

Reading the daily reports describing the suffering of thousands of people and Union Carbide's shameless evasion of all responsibility has forced me to think about three questions:

How was it that a corporation killed thousands of people due to gross negligence and faced almost no consequences?
What should have been done after the disaster to give justice to the victims?
What needs to change in order to be sure that something of this nature never happens again?

How was it that a corporation killed thousands of people due to gross negligence and faced almost no consequences?

First it is absolutely necessary to recognize a fundamental fact about corporations – they have no souls, no conscience, and no ethical responsibility towards anyone or anything. Corporations have only one motive – profit. This isn't some left-wing, anti-capitalist view, it is economic fact. CEOs and corporate boards are bound by law (a Supreme Court decision, no less), to act in the interest of the corporation's bottom line. If a CEO makes a decision based on ethics that negatively affects the bottom line, he can legally be sued by the shareholders. There is no room for good-deeds, except those trifles which are necessary for good PR. This isn’t a conspiracy theory, it is the result of the current legal and economic framework within which corporations operate.

Following the disaster the CEO of Union Carbide, Warren Anderson, did his duty - evade responsibility and minimize costs. Luckily for UC and Mr. Anderson, the global economic/political system is stacked in favor of trans-national corporations. Union Carbide simply left India. There is no global political structure which has the ability to control trans-national corporations, despite the fact that they exert an enormous amount of influence everywhere in the world. It is like the old Wild West where a bandit could simply cross state lines to evade justice.

Despite UC's best efforts, they were eventually pressured to pay a settlement to the victims. How much for a permanently injured victim? $500. How much for the family of someone who was killed? $1000. How is it possible that Union Carbide could get away with paying such a laughably small amount? Simple, all the victims are poor and brown. Indian lives are worth less than American or European lives. The settlement would have been hundreds of thousands, if not millions, per person in the US, but as a UC official put it, “500 dollars is plenty much for an Indian”. The fact that he said this during my lifetime gives me chills. After the settlement was announced, the price of UC stock instantly rose. Investors knew they got off cheap. In an audacious speech meant to reassure stock holders, Warren Anderson stated that the entire “Bhopal incident” cost the company 43 cents per share. $0.43 PER SHARE! What does message does that send to other companies with dangerous operations in the developing world? Get in, make some money, and buy your way out of any messy situation for mere pennies.

So, to get back to the original question, UC was able to avoid any substantial consequence because it did its best to avoid responsibility and there was no legal body which could force it do to otherwise. When it did dispense money, it calculated the health and life of an Indian the way tourists haggle for souvenirs – things are cheap here, including the people’s health and lives. Sickening.

What should have been done after the disaster to give justice to the victims?

It is not only the amount of compensation from UC that is so insulting to the victims in Bhopal, it is the fact that a billion dollar corporation can destroy a community and environment, make a paltry one-time payment, and then be off the hook. Handing victims a large check does help to make their life easy for the short term, but that should not be the end of it. Union Carbide should be responsible for cleaning up its mess and setting up a healthcare and economic stimulus infrastructure to lessen the suffering caused by its negligence. It should also be forced to undergo a thorough review of all of its facilities to ensure that the kinds of safety lapses that caused the Bhopal catastrophe won’t happen again. These steps would begin to give justice to a people who were first exploited for cheap labor and then poisoned and killed by a multi-billion dollar corporation.

The Indian government has been attempting to extradite Warren Anderson for the past 24 years. There is a warrant for his arrest, and if it is actually served, he will be tried for culpable homicide in an Indian court. I really don’t know how to feel about extraditing an octogenarian to India to be tried for murder. Realistically, as CEO of such a large corporation, he did not know that the Bhopal plant violated nearly every safety measure and regulation in the chemical industry, but maybe he should have. Maybe if he is tried and convicted and imprisoned future CEOs will ensure that such disasters don’t happen, since they could be held responsible. Someone has to be held responsible. Anderson surely was given credit for UC’s financial success while he was CEO, so why should he not be held responsible for its mistakes? Thousands of innocent people are currently being poisoned by contaminated water. Thousands more are chronically ill due to the disaster. Thousands more lost family and friends in one horrific night. These people deserve justice, so who am I to tell them that it would be unfair to interrupt a wealthy old man’s retirement?

What needs to change in order to be sure that something of this nature never happens again?

Everything. The entire, supposedly inviolable, idea that a corporation has all the rights of a person without the accompanying ethical and moral responsibilities must change. Trans-national corporations must be reigned in by an effective international body that is able to enforce safety standards, environmental regulations, and human rights laws. The age of outsourcing our dirty work, which damages the environment and health of employees, to poor countries must come to an end. If a job is unsafe for an American, it is unsafe for an Indian, a Malaysian, or a Mexican.

We can not continue to exploit the poor in order to have “Everyday Low Prices”. Our entire economic system, which is pathologically driven by wealth production, must begin to factor in the costs to human beings around the world. It may mean that Americans will have to pay a little more for the endless array of unnecessary consumer goods at their local Wal-Mart (actually in my perfect world Wal-Mart would be broken up since it has a veritable monopoly in many locales). Globalization works great for the top 1% of the world’s population, and for the rest it means long working hours, miserable manufacturing jobs, and being exposed to products and lifestyles which they will never be able to afford. It is time to include the rest of the world into our decision making. If we don’t, we should no longer be considered the “Home of the Brave”.

Good News! People awareness is growing and you can help!

The Bhopal Gas Tragedy is an acute symptom of a larger global malady. It is a case study in globalization’s discontents. Never before have the winners and losers in the trans-national-capital-game been so clearly demarcated. Thankfully there are brave and persistent people in Bhopal who are not looking at the tragedy as an event which occurred in the past, but rather as a part of an ongoing battle against injustice on a global scale. Check out the video below if you want to get really riled up (I got goose-bumps).

It is an example of how the tragedy has resulted in a city full of motivated and talented activists who are keenly aware of their place in the global socio-economic scheme. It is unfortunate that it took the world’s worst industrial disaster to wake up a community to the shenanigans of global corporations, but now they are unstoppable.

Part 2 will be about ways that Americans can help the fight for justice in Bhopal and to ensure that there will be “No More Bhopals”.

Holi Cow!

2009-03-12T02:21:00.000-07:00

If I've learned only one thing during this year of traveling it is how to quickly adapt to new situations. I arrived at Sambhavna Clinic in Bhopal on Tuesday evening and woke up Wednesday morning to my fellow volunteers sneaking into my room to cover me with colored powder. This wasn't a new volunteer initiation or a hazing ritual, it was the morning of the Holi Festival, possibly the most colorful festival in the world. Literally.

The clinic was closed for the holiday, so we left early to go to a party nearby; more colored powder, lots of music, and a potent beverage brewed with bhang and milk. By early afternoon everyone was exhausted and brightly hued (inside and out), so we went to the local samosa stand before we cleaned up and relaxed on the clinic roof for the rest of the day. All in all, not a bad first day on the job. Now it is time to get serious and determine how I will spend the next four weeks. I know that I will be helping in the garden in which all the clinic's medicine is grown, and I'll also probably be helping to digitize the clinic's extensive library about the Union Carbide gas leak.

For those of you who are not aware of the Bhopal gas tragedy, here is a quick synopsis. At midnight on December 2nd, 1984, a chemical plant operated by Union Carbide (Now owned by Dow Chemicals) leaked 27 tons of poisonous gas, killing thousands instantly and leaving tens of thousands more injured. Twenty-five years after the disaster, victims are still suffering from the effects of the gas and the soil and water of Bhopal are still contaminated. The company refuses to pay for the clean-up or medical expenses related to the disaster, but there is still a case in court which could give additional compensation to the victims.

This isn't just another case of corporate irresponsibility, it is the largest chemical disaster in history - one which continues to harm innocent people. The Sambhavna Clinic was set up for two main goals; to help the victims through the use of alternative medicine and to serve as a center for research regarding the gas disaster. I'm only beginning to understand how the clinic functions and what my role can be, I just hope that I can find a meaningful way to contribute and earn my free meals!

Sweating the Big Stuff, Enjoying the Small Stuff

2009-03-07T02:40:00.000-08:00

First, an apology for the last post. A travel blog to keep family and friends up on my whereabouts and activities is probably not an appropriate venue for a controversial and personal political rant, so now back to our regularly scheduled programming from Sadhana Village . . .

As I expected, I learned more from the people at Sadhana Village than I could have possibly hoped to teach them. The way of life in this enclave of acceptance and good-will has made an indelible impact on how I envision my future career and lifestyle. It really is the little things that make all the difference. Sadhana Village does not aim to change the perception of people with disabilities in India, there are no plans to expand globally or even regionally – Sadhana is content to remain a quiet community in a remote location. This does not mean that Sadhana isn't making a difference, only that the organization is doing it individual by individual. People come first at Sadhana, not publicity, recognition, or finances.

When confronted by a problem, such as how to help people with developmental disabilities live a happy and healthy life, I too often focus on the macro-scale, societal level solutions, but the best place to start is by focusing on individual people. Finally the classic “top-down versus bottom-up” distinction makes sense to me. Any solution that is formulated by bureaucrats (as well-meaning and educated they may be) at the top of an organization or government is unlikely to be effective at the local level because the it will not be ideally suited for every environment and group. A solution that is formulated by the people working at the grass-roots level will be much more effective because they are more knowledgeable about the local environment's resources and specific individual's needs. Furthermore, they are working with people, not abstractions, and are immediately aware if an aspect of their program is not working. Since it took me two degrees and almost a year abroad to figure that one, I guess I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed.

Although it is not their intention, Sadhana is making a global impact. People from all over the world visit to volunteer or to learn about Sadhana's system so that they can bring it back to their home country and organization. There have been numerous articles published and several new organizations have been spawned using Sadhana as a guide, a perfect example of “bottom-up” or horizontal movement of an innovative idea.

When I arrived here I immediately wanted to work on towards increasing Sadhana's organizational capacity through grant-writing, staff training, fund-raising, technology acquisition, etc. I think I'm attracted to this type of project because I can walk away in a month with a quantifiable result, which may or may not become a line on my resume. I quickly learned that this is not my role at Sadhana. I was welcomed, fed and housed so that I could enrich the lives of the residents. After this realization, that I'm here to work with the residents rather than the organization, I experienced an unexpected wave of relief. Instead of worrying about funding organizations and grant deadlines, I could slow down and get to know the unique and interesting residents. I helped Sarang learn how to use my digital camera, upload photos to his personal computer, and put them into a presentation that he will show to all guests and new volunteers as the official welcoming committee of Sadhana. I worked with Yetin to practice his English writing and eventually compose a short biography which he read at a community meeting. I had long and interesting discussions with Vankadesh, who is a linguistic savant and speaks seven languages, about geography and linguistic anthropology. These may be small contributions, but I left Sadhana knowing that my presence made a few people happy; something I couldn't be sure of if I had spent my time editing grant applications.

These experiences working with individual residents are what have made an indelible impact on how I envision my future. I still vacillate between the macro and micro ways of helping; a career in the United Nations or as a social worker, making public policy or teaching children, international NGO or local non-profit. While these alternatives are not mutually exclusive, they represent two different ways of doing good in the world. I am coming to realize that both are equally important means to an end, but that I must first ground myself in reality by working at the micro/individual level before I can be focused or effective on a larger scale. Getting your hands dirty, sometimes literally, working directly with people is the only way to learn how to help. I guess that is why I am on this trip – to figure out what it is I need to learn in order to be useful to those in need. In other words, find a niche for myself.

I don't know if I've found my niche, but everywhere I go I learn something new about what it takes to be helpful and what I should learn to make myself more effective in that role. What have I learned that I need to learn? Here is an abbrieviated list:

1) Language – because not everyone in the world, or even the US, speaks English
2) Language – because you can't get much done without it.
3) Language – because being mono-lingual is seriously not-cool
4) Hard-skills – because just being well-meaning and well educated only goes so far.

As far as the first three are concerned, I am committed to building on my meager Spanish in the next few years to become competent enough to have a casual conversation. The issue of hard-skills is a little more complicated. I have witnessed other volunteers who are useful no matter where they go because of their skill-set. These skills are as diverse as teaching music, massage, construction, yoga instruction, physical therapy, gardening, and teaching art. For example, two occupational therapists just arrived at Sadhana and I am amazed that I have never looked into this profession previously because it is so aligned with my interests and experience; helping people with physical or mental limitations to reach their goals by using their unique skills and interests to overcome environmental obstacles. That is the extent of my knowledge of what an occupational therapist does, I just find it interesting that so many means exist to the same end; helping disadvantaged individuals live a happy and healthy life.

So to get to the point of this post, I still don't know what I want to do with my life, but I know that the best place to find my niche is by working with individuals. As some of you know, Jess and I are returning to the US of A in July/August and will be seeking employment as teachers! Becoming an educator will undoubtedly teach me a great deal and open many doors to other possible careers. Maybe I'll never know what I want to be when I grow up, but at least I'm having fun trying to figure it out.

My next, and final, stop in India is at the Sambhavna Clinic in Bhopal. I have almost no idea what my role will be, but it is a worthy organization with a good reputation, so I'm looking forward to my time there. Also, I should have regular internet access!!!! Thanks to everyone who has read this far – you are my blog super-stars!

Read at Your Own Risk!

2009-02-21T20:19:00.000-08:00

DISCLAIMER: If you have any affinity for the Bush Dynasty, unquestioning adoration for Obama, or a firmly held belief that the “American Way of Life” is a God-given right, please do not read this post! I promise to have a fluffy post with anecdotes and photos by next week :-)

Barack Hussein Obama, the son of a Kenyan immigrant, is now the most powerful man in the world. I was certain it was impossible and I still find it difficult to believe even after reading “President Obama . . .” repeatedly in the papers. Luckily, I am constantly reminded of Obama's victory by strangers in India immediately after confessing that I am an American. “Oh Yes, Obama! He is a good man, I like him very much!” Overnight it became OK to be an American abroad! To many Indians, and to millions of others around the world, Obama represents the possibility of a new world order, a world where America does have a conscience and a moral responsibility to consider the well-being of hundreds of millions of impoverished people around the world. All of this optimism and enthusiasm is based on two facts; 1) Obama is not a member of the white and privileged establishment and 2) his last name isn't Bush or Clinton.

Unfortunately (I seldom express this sentiment to excited Indians) I am not expecting change, at least not any deep or lasting change, during Obama's presidency. Economic exploitation of the third world through economic imperialism and the unquestioned reign of transnational corporations will continue during the next four years. Obama may represent many positive things to many deserving people, but he is an ardent centrist (and he wouldn't have been elected otherwise) and the bulk of his policies reinforce the status quo. He may be an exciting breath of fresh air in the global political scene, but his image, charisma, and rhetoric can only go so far.
In some ways America under Obama is more dangerous than it was under Bush Junior. Of course this is blasphemous to my liberal friends, but the truly liberal have reason to be disheartened. The Bush regime was so utterly simple, so brazen in its actions, so arrogant in its behaviors, that the mechanisms behind global exploitation were clearly visible to even the most casual observer. An ex-president's simple-minded son (himself a former oil tycoon) gets elected through a technicality in the state his brother governs, hires a bunch of his Dad's old buddies (Oil tycoons and defense contractors) with the sole aim of making a more “favorable global business environment” for his CEO buddies. Of course this includes acquiring, through unapologetically dishonest means, the oil necessary to lubricate the wheels of production and consumption. Of course this is all old news, it will all be in history books soon enough, but the point is that Bush made it easy for opponents of the American led trans-national corporate empire to criticize the unjust system and to rally people in the fight for change. In many ways Obama is a godsend to the status quo; he appeases the masses with the appearance of change while business continues as usual. I don't think we will be illegally invading and occupying as many countries during the next four years, but I have little doubt that our tax dollars will continue to pour into the defense industry, that the richest one percent of Americans will continue owns more wealth than the bottom twenty percent, and that corporate campaign contributions will continue to guide public policy making.

I have no doubt that Obama is a good and honorable man, and he may even turn out to be one of the great presidents of the modern era, but good and honorable aren't enough. The world needs a revolutionary president who is not afraid to work outside the two-party political system in order to bring justice to the hundreds of millions who are on the losing end of global economic inequity. Sure, he is the American president and he was elected to further America's interests, but as September 11th proved, we don't live in an impenetrable bubble. Global peace is impossible without global equality, both economic and political. How can we expect the rest of the world to watch contentedly as we gluttonously consume vastly more than our share of the world's limited resources? Do we deserve to live a more comfortable life than the rest of the world? Do they deserve to live in poverty? Do we work harder, or are we born smarter? (I can tell you firsthand that the answer is a definitive NO to last question.) Or was it a fluke of history and geography that endowed the people of America and Europe with power and wealth - power that we use without hesitation to acquire more wealth, which we are very hesitant to share. A powerful minority can only hide behind the supposedly sacred concept of the sovereign nation-state for so long before the rest of the world realizes that the world's resources belong to everyone and that no one group has a right to live a life of luxury while others suffer in poverty. This is the exact reason why conservatives have been pushing the idea of a missile defense shield since Reagan - we would finally get our impenetrable bubble that would protect us from any retribution, righteous or otherwise, from those who seek a more equitable global balance of power.

Even a missile defense shield can't save us from the effects of environmental collapse. As you read this, weather patterns are shifting, glaciers are melting, and sea levels are rising. We're already running low on oil and soon much of the world will be short of the water it needs. The evidence is clear – our unsustainable lifestyle and careless public policy has altered the planet's delicate balance and we are unprepared for the inevitable effects.

Two more, albeit late, disclaimers:
1) I am no expert on Obama's policies
2) I benefit every day of my life from the plundering of the American empire, and will probably continue to do so for the rest of my life.

Despite the cynicism of this rant, I am genuinely excited by Obama's presidency. He is bound to improve public infrastructure, education, and the status of scientific research in the United States. I am also fascinated by his victory as a historic milestone. Less than five decades ago he wouldn't have been allowed to sit at the same table as white people in some states, but now he is sitting at the head of the table, and everyone is listening – a monumental step for a nation plagued by racial discord. Of course hundreds of years of wrongs can not be corrected by a single electoral gesture. A great deal of work has yet to be done, but at least we are moving forward. Obama's election is in many ways the culmination of the war over racial identity that has been fought in America since the civil rights movement. I hope that we really are in a new post-racial era of American politics because a united citizenry is needed to fight the next great battle for equality. The rally cry of this new battle is a logical extension of the civil right movement; all people, not just those born in America, deserve equality, both economic and political. This battle will not be won until economic and environmental exploitation of the third world are no longer considered valid means to accumulate wealth. I look forward to the day when it is just as easy and affordable for the average Indian to travel to America as it has been for me to travel to India.

. . . . . .

Although the tone of this posting is urgent - and even slightly angry - I assure you that the atmosphere at Sadhana Village is the polar opposite. Perhaps the only problem is that I have too much free time to observe the surrounding villages and write about my reactions, hence this post. I hope that the cardinal rule of conversation – don't discuss religion or politics because you'll either bore people or piss them off – doesn't apply to blogging. Even if it does apply, I hope I didn't piss anyone off, or worse, bore anyone with an exceptionally long and pictureless post. Just throwing my 2¢ in . . .

Best of the East and West

2009-02-15T05:38:00.000-08:00

Volunteering after months of touring is truly refreshing, kind of like taking a long, hot shower after an overnight bus ride. Of course there are no showers here, but Sadhana Village has everything else I could ask for and more. It is set in a dramatic valley 30 kilometers outside of Pune and is much more peaceful than the tourist-infested beaches of Goa or the traffic-clogged streets of Pune and Mumbai. My biggest concern before arrival was a language barrier, but that fear was washed away within minutes of my arrival by scores of questions from the curious residents, all of which were formed in perfect English! The multitude of international volunteers and educated staff have given the residents a firm grasp of the English language, which unfortunately means I probably won't learn much Hindi or Marathi.

Sadhana Village isn't a village in the usual way; it is a home for people with developmental disabilities that is structured like a community. The community was founded by Vasante Deshpande after his daughter had a debilitating accident that left her unable to care for herself. He was told by the doctors that a “rehabilitation home” was the best place for her. Mr. Deshpande was shocked by these so called homes, abuse, malnutrition, and neglect were widespread. He decided to travel abroad in search of a more humane organization, and was inspired by the Camphill Schools in North America. Sadhana Village was founded in 1993 with the aim of becoming a place where people of varying abilities could live happy, healthy and fulfilling lives. The basic premise is simple; people with disabilities have the same needs as everyone else – adequate food and shelter, opportunities to express themselves creatively, and to belong to a family and community. Sadhana Village meets these needs better than similar organizations in India because each resident's individual needs and desires are emphasized, but it is also more successful than similar organizations in the United States because familial and cultural relationships are very highly valued. In many ways it is the best of the Collectivist East and the Individualist West.

Sadhana Village consists of three main buildings, each of which is a home to ten “special friends” (their term, not mine). Each building has a kitchen, a living area, and two dining rooms. In order to cultivate a more family-like environment, meals are eaten in smaller groups of 5 residents and at least one volunteer or staff. Dividing the residents between three buildings and then into smaller family groups (albeit unisex families) gives the residents a more stable, private, and familiar environment in which to live. The staff and volunteers all live on site, which also adds to the stability of the community.

The daily schedule at Sadhana is also very stable and organized. Everyone is up by 7:30 for chai, followed immediately by a walk around the property. Breakfast is served at 9:00 before all the houses gather together for a morning community meeting and prayer at 10:00. Everyone then heads to the garden for morning work, which ends promptly at 12:00. After showers and some rest, lunch is served at 1:00. My favorite part of the day, nap time, goes from lunch until 3:00 when the afternoon cultural activity begins. Sweet snacks are served to everyone at 6:00, dinner at 8:00, and bed-time prayer/meditation at 9:00. I like the structure and predictability of the schedule, it helps everyone to be at ease and on time.

Despite the rosy picture I have painted of Sadhana Village, behind the scenes things are not running so effortlessly. An organization of this nature is expensive to operate and Sadhana receives exactly zero rupees from the Indian government. The parents of the residents pay a nominal sum each month, but the fees do not cover operating costs. International foundations and corporations only donate money for capital-raising projects, such as new buildings and land purchases, but rarely will give money for daily expenses. The international financial crisis has caused a decrease in international donations. There are only two alternatives, to raise the monthly fee for each family, which would result in some residents being forced out, or to create an income generating enterprise of some sort, which would force the residents to work for many hours of the day. It is interesting that this is the exact same problem that the Temi Community in Georgia faces, people are willing to give money for new projects and buildings, but no one wants to cover the mundane daily expenses which are necessary to keep them operating.

I hope that I will be able to help this group in a meaningful way, but I will undoubtedly learn more from them then they will from me. That seems to be the theme of my entire year; getting credit for volunteering, when in fact I am getting fed, housed, and educated for free. Not exactly a fair trade, but if they are happy with the arrangement, there will be no complaints from me.

I'm NOT Goin' to Goa

2009-02-07T03:23:00.000-08:00

I don't know how many times I said that exact phrase when talking about my Indian itinerary. Goa is infamous as the destination for world-weary hippies looking for a beautiful place to relax and European couples looking for a cheap place to drink and get a tan. Despite belonging to the same category, I generally don't like tourists. It is easy to get arrogant and righteous when observing groups of sunburned sixty-somethings who have over-indulged in the cheap booze, but i have no right to be indignant. I may think of myself as a traveler rather than a tourist, but it is all a matter of perspective. My perspective. To the people in Goa who rely on tourism for their livelihood, I am just as much a tourist as any drunken pensioner from Europe, just another person who has come for the cheap food and beautiful beaches.

Tourism may be considered a legitimate route to economic development, but it irreversibly, and in my mind adversely, affects the local culture. Instead of relying on the land or the sea for their income, most people in Goa must now rely on the fickle demands of foreign tourists. Communities full of people who can only make money by pleasing tourists. The rich folks fly in and immediately stash their money in locked hotel safes and hidden money belts. All tourists everywhere, especially myself, have a disproportionate fear, almost a phobia, of the dreaded “Rip Off”. Not too many people stop to think about who is really getting ripped off every day. The tourists pamper themselves in one of the world's most beautiful settings for ridiculously cheap. while the locals make a meager living serving them, too busy to be able to enjoy their ancestral setting. You decide who is getting the short end of the stick. (No points for guessing my answer.)

Tourism's effect on the locals is evident every time I walk to town. I am staying in a lesser-developed section of Goa, but the road to the nearest village is lined with stalls selling the usual array of souvenirs. The necklaces, postcards, t-shirts, and trinkets are the same in nearly every stall. There is little or no product differentiation because in order to be competitively priced they must buy from a large wholesaler, which has a limited selection of merchandise. Since everyone is essentially selling the same thing, the only way to stand out is to catch the attention of the passing tourists, to hook their interest in whatever way possible. The hooks range from the simple and ubiquitous, “Hello, my friend!”, to the more sophisticated (and usually accurate) comments on nationality, “Hello! America, yes?” (I occasionally get mistaken for a German or Australian, but without me saying a word they usually know I'm American. Is it my clothes, my hair, or my shoes, or something more subtle? I don't really know how they do it, but I know it involves practicing day after day.) If the comment elicits any reaction, especially a verbal response, it is successful and is immediately followed by a heartfelt plea to, “just look here, no buying”. The hook which catches me without fail is the compliment. Hearing a stranger say “nice beard my friend!”, or “you look like a real Indian!” instinctively makes me smile and at least say “thanks” in return, not because I'm overly polite, but because I'm a sucker for a compliment.

The most creative hook I have come across was even more clever than a compliment or educated guess on nationality. “Please come look at my shitty shop. Just another shitty shop full of shit for you to buy”. When I was certain I had heard him correctly, I had to turn to smile. “Yes my friend, do you want to see my shit? You have never seen such shit for such good prices!” This guy would be a marketing executive had he been born in the West. He realizes that it doesn't matter what you say, as long as people stop and listen. Being a connoisseur of hawkers' hooks, I had to buy some postcards from this supreme souvenir slinger.

Like it or not, the tourism industry is not going to disappear anytime soon. People will always choose to go where their hard-won Dollars, Pounds, or Euros will go the farthest; it's simple economics. The problem is that this process always results in a unequal balance of power. The tourists, by voting with their money, have control over the services, food, accommodation, and entertainment in the area. The local residents are not helpless victims, they are just at the losing end of an economic exchange. If the people of Goa became organized and decided to guarantee everyone working in the tourist industry a minimum wage and guaranteed time off, prices for tourist services would inevitably rise. For every Rupee increase in the cost of a Goa vacation, Goa would get less tourists and the locals are aware of this economic fact. It is just as easy for potential tourists to book a vacation to Mexico, Thailand, Bali, or Vietnam – exotic, warm, beautiful, and cheap. Poor people in Thailand are competing with poor people in Indians; there is always another “undiscovered gem” on the tourist map, so if you want to be attract tourists, you better be cheap.

Tourism in the developing world is a one way street. We can go to their home and pay for their servitude, but 99% of them will never be able to even dream of a luxurious vacation in the West. Of course not, neither can most of the Western tourists who come to Goa, that is why many people are here. This all became embarrassingly apparent on a bus ride in which I was talking to a friendly engineer going to visit his home village. He was very curious and asked about all the details of my trip; how long in each country, average costs for hotels, food, and transportation, and how much I had saved before leaving. He then asked me about equivalent traveling costs in the United States and Europe. Being an engineer, doing the math in his head was not a problem. When he was finished with his mental spreadsheet, he looked at me and said, “It is impossible for me to visit your country in this way. I am an engineer, but I will never be able to afford a trip for that length of time in such an expensive place.” He said it as a matter of fact, without a hint of resentment or anger. It is just the current global situation and we too often take it for granted.

This whole rant on tourism is a result of two and a half months of constantly and consciously taking advantage of this economic inequity. I need a holiday from being a tourist so I'm excited to start volunteering tomorrow - whether or not I'm able to really help their organization, at least I'll no longer feel like a neo-colonial voyeur. My next posting should be from Sadhana Village in Pune, hopefully on a much lighter note :-)

Bombay: Maximum City

2009-02-02T00:24:00.001-08:00

It is natural to attempt to relate foreign locations to familiar places because an analogy can lead to a better understanding of a new place. While exploring Mumbai's backstreets, affluent suburbs, and tourist hot-spots I realized that there is no one city in America which contains the mult-faceted vibrancy that this “maximum city”, so no simple analogy is accurate. Mumbai is the financial capital of India, the fourth largest city in the world, the home of India's entertainment and fashion industry (Bollywood produces more films per year than Hollywood), the site of countless ancient and colonial landmarks, and is flanked by sun-drenched beaches and jungle. A fair analogy to the US could only be possible if Boston, Los Angeles, and New York were all stacked on top of each other somewhere in Florida.

Another way to describe Mumbai is to recognize what it is not; this city is no Kerala. As my previous post describes, Kerala is teeming with natural beauty and home-spun tradition. Like the citizens of Mumbai, Keralans are also struggling to survive in an India that is changing faster than anyone imagined possible, but Kerala is doing it on its own terms. The socialist government strongly encourages the retention of customs and traditions and promotes these traditions to attract tourists. Kerala is cultivating an image of traditional lifestyles and natural beauty, in some ways refusing economic gain which would destroy these two important aspects of their state. In contrast, Mumbai is racing towards the 21st century and not looking back. This is a city of extremes; the jet-set millionaires living in skyscrapers while 55 percent of the city lives in slums. Mumbai is home to India's wealthiest businessmen, but it is also home to Asia's largest slum. In some areas it is more common to see espresso and gelato shops than traditional chai stalls.

As with the rest of India, it is impossible to say whether or not I like Mumbai. I like the enterprising nature of the residents, with stalls selling every imaginable good and service at every corner. I don't like watching the ultra-wealthy ride in BMWs past children begging on the street. I like the unique flavor of Bollywood, with its singing/dancing/comedy/romance/action adventure plots. I don't like that Western style coffee shops are beginning to outnumber the chai stalls. Of course I do like that I can get a delicious double-shot latte anytime that I want. Mumbai just is, like it or not.
If you really want a glimpse at this crazy city, you must watch “Slumdog Millionaire”. Jess and I saw it at a swanky multi-plex here in Mumbai, which was incredible because we were within sight of many of the landmarks that are the setting for the film! I don't know how much publicity the movie is getting in the US, but it is obviously a big deal here in Mumbai, even though it is a foreign film. Slumdog really is an incredible movie, entertaining and heart-warming in its own right, but it does a particularly good job at portraying modern India with all its beauty, contradictions and harshness. My rating: three thumbs up and six stars.

The past week has been a little stressful here as Jess and I have spent our days running around trying to get her a Chinese Visa so that she can go back to work. As if the heavens were conspiring against her leaving India, Republic Day and Chinese New Year BOTH fell on the same week, meaning that the Chinese consulate was closed for the ENTIRE WEEK!! Thanks to some creative travel planning, she is now in Hong Kong getting a (hopefully) expedited visa so that she can get back to work next week.

After a week of running around the city with her I find myself alone in a an enormous city. Before I go to Pune to start work at Sadhana Village, I'm going to take a week in Goa to re-center and prepare for three and a half months away from Jess. A room with a balcony and long bike rides on the beach will hopefully prepare me for three months of volunteering and cultural immersion. I also bought a new “ultraportable” notebook computer here (for less than $200!), so I should be more accessible via email and Skype for the next few months. For those who are interested, my Skype name is lukintm, and for those, like me, who are new to Skype it is like an internet phone service, or a voice-chatting program, or a video-messaging service, depending on how you look at it. Either way, it goes a long way to make the world even smaller.

I just finished my espresso, so now it is time to dodge the BMWs and push through the begging children to find my bus . . .

Relaxing with Keralan Comrades

2009-01-23T06:35:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting outside of a train station in Kerala preparing to leave the peace and serenity of tropical life for the excitement and hassles of India's most modern city - Mumbai. While I'm excited to experience the chaos that I am sure to find in one of Asia's fastest growing cities, I will truly miss the calm and natural beauty of Kerala.

The state of Kerala is remarkable in a number of ways. First, it is unique in that a large area is linked by the "backwaters", which are essentially a system of natural and man-made canals. This may not sound exciting, but India minus buses, cars, pavement, and the ubiquitous honking horns is truly a sight to savor. Instead of dirty, rutted roads, people travel to work and school in canoes over calm waters that are amazingly clean and brimming with fish and waterfowl. Another very notable feature of Kerala is its people; in a country full of friendly, outgoing people, Keralans still managed to surprise me with their kindness. This may be due to the fact that they are generally healthier than their counterparts in other states. Health care is widely available and affordable. (Unfortunately Jess and I found this out first hand when we visited a hospital for a cough that Jess has had for too long. The doctor was efficient and friendly, the visit was free, and the medication cost a whopping $1.50.) Education is also taken very seriously in the state; literacy rates are above 90 percent!

So, you may be wondering why is Kerala so different from the rest of India. The excellent health care, educated population, and lack of .pollution can all be linked to one cause - COMMUNISM!!! Kerala is home to the only democratically elected communist government in the history of the world! Other communist governments have come into power through popular revolution or military take-over, but Keralans elected communist leaders fair and square, and they have no reason to be disappointed. In reality the Keralan government is more socialist than communist since there is a great deal of private property and privately owned businesses, but there is a major emphasis on funding social services and economic justice for the poor. I am not a communist (communism has largely been discredited as a viable economic system since it ignores an important facet of human nature -- self-interest) but it is impossible to deny the benefits that the communists have brought to this beautiful state.

Most of my time here in Kerala has been spent either eating delicious tropical food and/or staring out at breath-taking sunsets, but Jess and I did manage to get out of our comfort zone for and stay at an interesting ashram. An ashram is like a church, but it is more than just a place to go and worship, it is a place where people go to live a more spiritual life. It is also a center for education and humanitarian work, depending on the philosophical beliefs of the particular sect. The ashram that we visited is led by "Amma", a guru who is affectionately known worldwide as the "hugging mother". India is full of ashrams of every kind and variety, so an ashram located on the beach led by a woman who is renown for her hugging sounded like an easy introduction to ashram life. As it turns out, I was very right. The ashram was incredibly welcoming and full of Westerners who were very friendly. We learned a lot about Amma's humanitarian work. Her ashram has given financial assistance to the victims of nearly every natural disaster in the past decade, including a million dollars to help the victims of Hurricane Katrina. She also has directed the building of hospitals, schools, orphanages, universities, and homes for impoverished Indians. All that was nice, but the best part was our accommodation; a spotless room overlooking the beach and Arabian Sea! Not only that, but they had a cafe which served expresso and delicious foods such as pesto and gouda cheese pizza! And I though ashram life was about sacrifice and self-denial . . .

Here are my Kerala Pictures - some aren't half bad!

More to come soon from Mumbai

Trying to Stick My Head in the Sand

2009-01-12T20:14:00.000-08:00

For the first time in my life I know what it is like to be utterly and totally - comprehensively and blissfully - completely and holistically, relaxed from head to toe. Spending a week in Mamallapuram was the perfect antidote against a common but preventable malady: traveler burn-out. Waking up to the sunrise on a quiet, beautiful beach with absolutely no trains to be caught, no tasks to be completed, and no appointments to be made was exactly what I needed. I'm re-invigorated and ready to hit the road again, not that I'm looking forward to the prospect of city traffic and omnipresent pollution, but (unfortunately) the world isn't all fresh seafood and sunbathing.

One of the attractions of a beach holiday is that it temporarily disconnects you from troubling and seemingly unsolvable global woes. I didn't even see a newspaper for the first five days in Mamallapuram, much less worry about global events over which I have little control. I semi-consciously pushed aside any thoughts about the outside world, which did help to stay relaxed, but my disconnect was only superficial. Our time in Mamallapuram was directly affected by the very global events that I was trying to avoid. Jess and I were able to find a room within 15 minutes of arrival because the fear of terrorism and tension with Pakistan created by the Mumbai attacks of November 26th have reduced the number of tourists by 60 percent this season. Food and accommodation were affordable partly because of the global economic meltdown which has reduced travelers' spending. I have received dozens of hugs, handshakes, and smiles following my (previously cautioned) admission that I am an American for one simple reason: Obama. I share their hopes that this new chapter in contemporary American History will be the beginning of unprecedented global communication and cooperation, but I harbour doubts about any one person's ability to fundamentally change a global system that has entrenched itself with money and power. All of these global issues are being played out right here in a little beach town in the south of India. Any perceived detachment from world events is an illusion; the world really is a small place.

Fortunately Jess and I were able to put these issues to the back of our mind yesterday. We celebrated Jessica's 30th Birthday with a sunrise to moonrise Mamallapuram seafood, yoga, birthday cake, ayurvedic massage filled extravaganza. It was the perfect finale to our eight days in the idyllic village.

In a way it is nice to be getting back on the road, there is still so much of India left to see and we are already forced to reduce our number of destinations. We are traveling south to Tiruchirappalli to spend one full day checking out some old Hindu temples, then west to Kerala to spend three nights of the "backwaters". We will spend Jess' last week in India in the bustling city of Mumbai (Bombay) to get our Chinese travel visas. Then it is back to work for both of us, Jess back to "Where There Be Dragons" (coolest name for an employer EVER!) and I will be joining Sadhana Village as a six-week volunteer.

I finally have some pictures! Get envious of my summer-like (in January) beach holiday by looking at these.

On a Lighter Note . . .

2009-01-06T23:53:00.000-08:00

Since I run the risk of alienating my small group of blog readers with two picture-less posts in a row, I have added some images from Google to spice up this post. My past week has not involved much "sightseeing" so my camera stayed in the bottom of my backpack. Rather than sightseeing I have spent the past week mulching trees, spreading compost, and sleeping in a thatched hut. Jess and I spent five days at Sadhana Forest in Auroville volunteering, although we felt more like guests in a low-rent guest house than full-fledged volunteers.

Before I give my impressions of Sadhana Forest, I should step back and try to describe the "universal community" of Auroville. Founded in 1969 and based on the teachings of Sri Aurobindo, a British educated Hindu guru, Auroville is an attempt to build a spiritual and universal community from the ground up - a very admirable goal born out of the 1960's counterculture movement. The community's mission is:

"To be a universal town where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities. The purpose of Auroville is to realise human unity."

This is a lofty mission and, with the risk of being called cynical, I have to label as a naive. There is also a new age-y feeling to which I have a difficult time relating. A prime example is the shown in the adjacent photo. This is the "Matrimandir" - a space age structure that is the "soul of Auroville". This over sized golden golfball holds the world's largest crystal which is used to facilitate meditation. Different strokes for different folks, I suppose. Despite my pessimism, I respect the work that is taking place in Auroville. The community is full of alternative schools, artists’ enclaves, environmental programs and alternative energy projects. My only reservations are based on my limited observations of the "Aurovillians" and their relationship to the local people who inhabit the villages surrounding Auroville. True to its mission, Auroville is home to people from over thirty nations. This makes for an interesting intercultural mix, but it is not as diverse as one might assume. Due to its spiritual roots, the community's inhabitants are all very like-minded. There is no problem with that, but the structure of Auroville also results in a community that is socio-economically homogeneous; becoming an Aurovillian requires money, more money than I or many Indians are able to obtain. I am not aware of the financial details involved in becoming an Aurovillian, so I don't want to defame it with a label of "classist" or "economic discrimination", but not just anyone can show up at the town hall and become a member for a variety of reasons. Over half of the community is of European descent, giving it a flavor that is different than anywhere else in India. Not that you don't see many Indians in Auroville, the town hires over 5,000 villagers a year as staff and contract labor. It just doesn't sit well with me, call it white guilt or the residue of colonialism, but after a week it still looked like economic exploitation. I hope I'm wrong, but no one convinced me otherwise.

Sadhana Forest is one of Auroville's newer environmental projects which aims to reforest a badly degraded tract of land. The project began in 2003 and has already made a huge impact on the landscape; once desolate land is now green with foliage and the water table has risen an astounding 6 meters. The knowledge of this success gave Jess and I high expectations for our proposed 2 week stay, but unfortunately the reality wasn't as grand as we had hoped. Unlike most WWOOFing farms, Sadhana Forest charges guests 150 Rupees ($3) a day to cover food. Fair enough, no one wants to be a financial drain on a philanthropic organization. The facilities, which utilize alternative energy sources and environmentally sustainable features, are very interesting. All the electricity is generated through photovoltaic panels, no waste water is wasted, food waste is used as compost, and human excrement is used as fertilizer. Yes, human poo on the garden, which means no toilet. Honestly I didn't mind the composting system, when used properly (keeping urine and feces separate and using sawdust to absorb any excess moisture and odor) it is not as unpleasant as it may seem. The best part of the entire experience was the work. We spent the early morning, before the southern sun heats things up, mulching trees and planting vegetables in the garden. The work was not too strenuous and it was very rewarding.

Unfortunately, the rest of our experience was not so positive. The project is quite large by most standards with over 50 volunteers currently living, working, and eating at the site. I found this troubling for two reasons. First, it makes the entire experience rather impersonal. We never got a chance to meet many people and many interactions were anonymous and detached. This is not what I expected at an organic farm/reforestation project. Second, I am not convinced that the facilities are ready to handle so many people. Illness seemed to be quite common (although we were reassured that this issue was being dealt with) and space was a little tight. All in all, Jess and I didn't feel comfortable and decided to leave early.

Our disappointment was very short lived as we hopped on a bus and arrived in one of India's most beautiful beach side communities - Mamalapurim. The beach is long and clean and there are more cheap seafood restaurants than you can shake a prawn at - but the best part is our room overlooking the beach with a constant sea breeze and veranda. How much will this gluttonous luxury set us back? Less than $10 a day (meals and all) for the both of us. God bless India.

Happy New Year and I promise to have pictures next time!

Distant But Not Different

2008-12-27T00:29:00.000-08:00

One of the primary reasons for my year long wander is to gain an understanding of cultural diversity that two university degrees in Anthropology and Intercultural Youth Development were incapable of conferring. I have studied cultural variability from nearly every academic viewpoint imaginable, but growing up in a rural Midwestern town and attending university in two very homogeneous locations denied me an experiential understanding of cultural diversity.

When I began my trip it was easy and amusing to spot aspects of the local culture that differed from my own. As I moved East these differences became more pronounced and numerous, which made focusing on the differences nearly effortless. It is only now, after more than a month in India, that I am finally beginning to focus on the similarities between the local culture and my own.

Jess and I are spending a few days in Puri, a little beach town that is an overnight train ride away from Kolkata. Since it is so easily accessible to Kolkatans, it is a popular destination for middle-class Indians who want to get out of the city for a few days. As I strolled down the main drag on our first evening in town, I had an almost palpable sense of deja vu; it was as if I had walked down the streets at some point in the past. Of course I had not, but the string of hotels, restaurants, snack vendors and advertisements are strikingly similar to any family vacation destination in America's Midwest. I could have easily been at the Lake of the Ozarks or Branson in Missouri. Casually dressed families leisurely strolling down the road with ice cream, restaurants advertising food to suit every palate, souvenir shops selling knick-knacks - familiar scenes in every US vacation town during the summer. Walking around in Puri is like exploring an altered version of Midwest in which the food is spicier, the people dress brighter and cows roam the street freely.

These superficial similarities did not become totally clear until Jess and I met some of the incredibly friendly and welcoming locals. As foreign (and very pasty) tourists, we have to be cautious and aware of our vulnerability at all times, but we managed to let our guard down enough to get to know some local guys who struck up a conversation on the beach. After a very friendly conversation and promises to meet later and have a bonfire on the beach, I was very suspicious. What is their intention? What do they really want from us? What was the scam that we were walking into? Although these questions simmered in the back of my mind, we went to the beach on our way home from dinner to see if there was actually a fire as promised. Sure enough, our friends were waiting for us and we soon had a warm fire near the ocean on a beautiful night. As we sat under the stars discussing world politics and our life plans, I realized how many opportunities like this I miss every day because I am so guarded and uptight when interacting with local people. The guys around the fire were no different than my friends at home; they simply wanted to get together to enjoy good conversation and music, but I assumed they wanted nothing but my money. Jess and I were able to get to know some of them over the three days we stayed in Puri, all incredible young men and women who are interested in the world and are excited to meet others who are like-minded. In fact, the entire situation was very safe for one simple reason - no one was drinking alcohol. This is one difference between India and the US which I am begging to appreciate. No one was drunk or belligerent and there was no danger of making a foolish decision against one's better judgment. Alcohol just wasn't necessary as a social lubricant because everyone was relaxed and enjoying themselves. The sober (dare I say "wholesome") evening allowed us to get to know each other on a less superficial level.

I hope that focusing on the similarities between Indian culture and my own culture will help me to see individual human beings among the billion bodies who inhabit India. The families on holiday in Puri have the same goals as American families who head to the lake on three day weekends; relax away from domestic and career responsibilities, spend time with family, enjoy a beautiful natural place, and eat good food. The responsibilities may be different, the families bigger, the natural place a bit more crowded, and the food spicier, but the motivation is exactly the same - to live the good life. Thanks to the wonderful people, who are much more welcoming and open than myself, in Puri who were able to teach me this lesson that I could not have absorbed from any Anthropology textbook.

City of Shiva

2008-12-17T01:35:00.000-08:00

Varanasi is India in concentrate. More cows, worshipers, historical places, tourists, temples, street vendors, and ceremonies per square inch than I ever imagined possible. Since the city has been a point of pilgrimage for over 4000 years, there is no reason to be surprised. Varanasi is India with impactitude -my new favorite word which I picked up from an Indian newspaper. Luckily I was fully recovered and well rested from my stay in Delhi, so I was prepared for some impactitude.

Varanasi is a city of contrasts. The city clings to the banks of the Ganges River, a wide and tranquil river which is very sacred to Hindus everywhere. The streets leading to the river could not be more different - narrow, crowded and chaotic. The city is a magnet for life of all types from around the world, but it also draws death. Many Hindus believe that dying and being cremated in Varanasi brings instant liberation of the soul, therefore over 300 bodies are burned on the bank of the river everyday. 24/7/365. The only limiting factor in the burning is the cost to import wood and the space necessary to build the pyre. The most intriguing aspect of this tradition is that it takes place in public. Anyone passing by walks within a few feet of burning bodies, bodies waiting to be burned, and the family who have congregated to watch. To my American mind, this seems like the sort of event that begs to be a private family affair, but not in India. My hotel is located only about 50 yards from where the bodies are burned, so when I inevitably get lost in the backstreets I just follow one of the frequent funeral processions and I eventually end up at home. It seems macabre, but life and death are just more visible and harder to ignore here than in America.

The Ganges River is the heart and soul of Varanasi. The river is holy, but it is used in every way possible, both sacred and profane. At any given point on the shore there are people doing abolutions, (like ritual cleansing), offering gifts to the gods, praying, and meditating. At that same point there are also people washing clothes, fishing, swimming, bathing, and gathering water. Of course a large amount of human waste, both in the form of litter and excrement, end up in the river. This does not deter the pious from entering the river and worshiping its power.

The Ganges River flows from the god Shiva's hair according to tradition; this is his favorite city and he is definitely the favored god within the city. Of Hinduism's pantheon of a thousand plus gods, Shiva is one of the most commonly and fervently worshiped. This is why the city is such a popular place for pilgrims from all over India. The worshipers and the city are intense, and this intensity is magnified by bhang, which is sold in restaurants, on the street, and even by government shops in the form of drinks and baked goods. Watching funeral pyres and ancient rituals with a bhang lassi is a quintessential Varanasi experience. While there are quite a few foriegn tourists here, there are not enough to substantially change the character of the city. Most of the people here are tourists of some sort, but most of them are from within India.

In retrospect, I should have spent more time in Varanasi rather than Delhi, but hindsight is 20/20. I am leaving the city this evening on an overnight train to Kolkata where I will meet Jess! We'll spend about 4-5 days in Kolkata before heading to Jaipur to work at Saharia over Christmas and New Year.

Motions and Meditation Don't Mix

2008-12-10T04:00:00.000-08:00

I had the unfortunate experience of being forced to leave the meditation course after only four days of sitting cross-legged on the floor so that I could sit upright on a porcelain seat in a hotel; I got a bad case of what Indian's euphemistically refer to as "loose motions". It was inevitable - almost all tourists get some sort of intestinal bacteria during their stay - but I wish it could have come at a better time. Actually, there really is no "better time" to spend two and a half days walking from the bed to the toilet and back. Since I have arrived in India I have not eaten any meat, avoided uncooked fruits and vegetables, and only drank bottled water. At the Vipassana center I became comfortable and I relaxed my rules; on the third morning I ate a plateful of fresh bean sprouts that were undoubtedly washed in regular tap water. Lesson learned.

The meditation course was very intensive and intense. The schedule is EXACTLY as follows:

04:00 - Wake Up
04:30 - 06:30 Meditation
06:30 - 07:00 Breakfast
07:00 - 08:00 Rest
08:00 - 11:00 Meditation
11:00 - 11:30 Lunch
11:30 - 13:00 Rest
13:00 - 17:00 Meditation
17:00 - 17:30 Tea
17:30 - 18:00 Walking
18:00 - 21:00 Meditation
21:00 - 21:30 Questions to the Teacher (optional)
21:30 Lights Out

In case your doing the math, that is 12 hours of meditation per day. The rules, as well as the schedule, are very restrictive; no outside food, no reading or writing materials of any kind, no phones or music devices, and no medicine unless absolutely necessary. Perhaps the most noticeable rule of all is that of "Noble Silence". For the ten day of the meditation retreat you are not to speak to anyone at anytime, with the exception of simple questions to the teacher pertaining to the meditation technique. This rule was actually not difficult to follow or enforce. Since everyone at the center was there for the same purpose, there was little temptation to speak to anyone. It was difficult to follow the meal schedule because the afternoon "tea" was just that, tea with a light snack. You can imagine the growling stomachs in the meditation hall at six in the morning when the last meal was nineteen hours ago.

Meditation is extremely simple - focus your mind to the present moment. Meditation is also the most difficult thing I have ever attempted. In an environment with no distractions or worries, all I had to do was calm my mind, empty it of all thoughts, and focus all mental energy on my natural breath. Those who have tried know that the mind is a wild animal that is not easily tamed. I would relax and use all of my mind to feel the cool air brush against my nostrils and rush into my nasal cavities before pouring out my nostrils again. Vipassana teaches to focus on the breath, because it is natural, sensory, and everyone breathes. The technique makes a great deal of sense, and I love its simplicity and rationality, but that doesn't mean it is easy. Here is a typical excerpt from my mind's inner workings during the course.

One breath in, one breath out . . . two breaths in, two breaths out . . . I wonder how much a visa to Nepal costs . . . it should be warm enough to visit there by May . . . should I work on a farm there or just travel . . . SHIT! I did it again! . . . one breath in, one breath out . . . two breaths in, two breaths out . . . my back is getting sore . . . not as sore as after sorting olives for four hours . . . I wonder if Edouardo is still at the olive farm . . . SHIT! WHY WON'T MY BRAIN SHUT UP?!?!? . . . one breath in, one breath out . . . two breaths in, two breaths out . . .

According to the teacher, this is how all people begin meditation; frustration, failure, and (at least initially) persistence. It is amazing how little control we have over our own minds. We are really good at thinking, but all of our thinking concerns the future and the past, we rarely stop and thinking about what is going on at the present moment. A good example is driving. I remember drives back and forth between Missouri and Montana in which I covered 30 or 40 miles without any awareness. The sensory and motor movement parts of my brain were functioning on autopilot, completely out of my conscious awareness, perfectly able to drive the vehicle on the long straight highway, while all of my consciousness was consumed with memories, analyses, and emotions. We are all on some level of autopilot all the time. There are constantly sensations, sounds, and sights that our senses perceive, but do not enter our awareness. My very nature as a human makes meditation difficult, but my many years of formal education makes it almost impossible. I have spent my entire life being trained to do three things; think analytically, plan strategically, and communicate effectively. In order to meditate, I must stop my mind from engaging in all three.

Emptying the mind of its clutter and being acutely aware of the results in clarity and control. At least that is what I have been told by the teacher, who at least appears to be very calm and very controlled. I don't have to take his word for it, there are numerous scientific studies on the effect of meditation on the mind. Meditation's ability to alter brain activity and chemistry have been empirically verified and neuroscientists often incorporate the phenomenon of meditation in their theories of the mind.

Vipassana is not a religion, it is a technique. Although its roots are obviously Buddhist, Vipassana claims to be universal and compatible with many of the world's religions. There are no pictures of the Buddha, no mantras, rites, or rituals. There is also no hierarchy except that of teacher and student. I felt very comfortable at the center. It is located on a forested hill far away from the noise and pollution of Jaipur -monkeys and wild peacocks provided the only distractions. It is a peaceful and welcoming place, but my bowels did not feel as comfortable as my mind.

I am now fully recovered. I travelled from Jaipur to Delhi and I'm not sure how to spend the next five days before I travel to Varanasi and Kolkata to meet Jessica. I will probably spend a few days in Delhi's parks and museums, of which I have been to none. Although I am fortified by antibiotics, I will pass on any offers of tasty sprouts for the next five months.

Nationalism Gone Wild

2008-11-30T04:42:00.000-08:00

My North Indian tour has brought me from the home of the Sikhs to the land of the Hindus and I was able to catch a glimpse of Pakistan along the way. I was reluctant to leave the Golden Temple, with its friendly people and free food, but the road (or railway) beckons.

I was able to meet and get to know many Indians during my time in Amritsar thanks to the Golden Temple being a hassle-free zone, and one man, Paran, made a particular impression on me. After he finished with the usual round of "questioning the foreigner", I turned the table and interrogated him. After a little prying I learned that he was unemployed, has lived in Amritsar his entire life, and eats at the Temple every day because he has no money for food. I asked him where he learned to speak English, since it is usually a sign of high caste or education, and he told me that he graduated from a university with a computing degree, but it is very difficult to find work right now. He was obviously embarrassed by his financial position, but he brightened up when he said that he was planning to become a tour guide, using his English to show foreigners around the city. As he stood up to leave, I realized that 1) he was not a scam artist 2) he needed help and money 3) I needed a guide to get to the Pakistani border. So I made a proposition; I would pay him 150 Rupees ($3) to accompany me to the border with Pakistan as my guide. Most tourists hire a taxi to take them to the border and then back to Amritsar, which costs 600 Rupees. The public bus system in rural India is very cheap, only 50 Rupees to the border and back, but it is not easy for a foreigner to navigate because the signs are in Punjabi and Hindi and the drivers don't speak English. So my guide would be make more than the average day's wage in one afternoon and I would save some cash and get to see more of the Indian country-side.

This raises a legitimate and pertinent question; why was I so intent on getting to the Pakistani border? I have no interest in visiting Pakistan at this time, and I can't since I don't have a visa. So why go to the border only to turn around and go back? To join the border closing ceremony/party/nationalistic pep-rally, of course. The border crossing near Amritsar is the only open point between the two giant nations of India and Pakistan, who have perennially bad relations and a disputed border in Kashmir. Each evening both nations put on a big nationalistic show to crowds of people on each side as they ceremonially close the border. There are bleachers, food vendors, speakers blaring Hindi pop music, and even a charismatic MC to rally the crowd. All in all it is one of the most bizarre gatherings I have ever seen. Luckily I had my guide, Paran, to translate and explain some of the happenings, but such things defy a rational explanation. Maybe my photos will illustrate the scene better, but they are distant and vague. I have some videos that I will try to post, if I can figure out how.

It was fascinating to see the crowds of cheering spectators shouting "Long Live India!" while another large crowd on the other side of the fence yelled "Long Live Pakistan!". The border guards had an elaborate succession of marches, which amounted to a hyper-masculine display of nationalism and power. Finally, the flags were lowered, the gate was closed, and the crowd dispersed. Weird, but an interesting insight into how these two countries, which were originally one under the British, now deal with each other. I also was able to help out Paran, who was more enthusiastic than ever about become a tour guide, but I know he helped me out more because I would have probably ended up stranded in some remote village had he not been there to lead the way.

Now I am in Rishikesh; a Hindu holy city on the Ganges river in the foothills of the Himalayas where cows, white hippies with dreadlocks, wild monkeys, and Hindu swamis roam the streets. This is the place where the Beatles came to study meditation and yoga with the Maharishi in the '60s and now it is the "yoga capital of the world".

The setting is beautiful; the Ganges is clear and fast flowing between the lush green mountains. Also the air is relatively free of India's ubiquitous pollution and the streets are more pedestrian friendly. I can't say I'm smitten with the place, it wreaks too much of "spiritual commercialism". By this I mean a lot of rich kids and retirees come here to pay people to "enlighten" them, or they at least buy enough cool Indian clothes and trinkets to convince their friends back home that they have become enlightened. Regardless, it is a nice place to hang out and relax for a few days. Today I had a nice hike to a waterfall with many encounters with curious monkeys. I'm sure I would enjoy this place much more if I were staying in one of the many ashrams or taking a yoga course, but I must keep moving.

I am leaving tomorrow for Haridware and then Jaipur where I will join a ten day meditation retreat. Afterwards I will visit Varanasi, which is one of Hinduisms holiest cities. But in the meantime, I will try to avoid terrorists and their deadly antics.

All's Well in Rishikesh!

2008-11-28T22:53:00.000-08:00

Just a really quick post to relieve those who are worried by the terrorist attacks in Mumbai - I'm fine! It is true that terrorists attacked a number of luxury hotels and restaurants in Mumbai reportedly were looking for Brits and Americans. Fortunately, I am not in Mumbai and definetly not in any luxury hotels or restaurants! Unfortunately, many innocent people, mostly Indian citizens lost their lives, and India's reputation as a safe tourist destination has been tarnished.

That is all, just a note to let everyone know that I'm OK.

Seeking the Sikhs

2008-11-24T21:55:00.000-08:00

I made it out of the madness that is Delhi in one piece without getting ripped off - in fact I feel guilty after every transaction because things are so incredibly cheap. An all-you-can-eat traditional Thali (dal, curried veggies, flatbread, and rice) costs 25 rupees -- that is exactly 50 cents! Add a steaming cup of chai and your looking at a bill that could top 60 cents, which means it is nearly impossible to go broke here, even if you are overcharged, it amounts to a few nickels. I was obviously thrilled by how affordable everything was in Delhi, but that hardly compares with the deal I am enjoying in Amritsar.

I took an overnight bus (bad idea, cold, cramped and dirty) from Delhi to Amritsar two nights ago in order to escape the congested city. I couldn't have chosen a better antidote to Delhi's crowds and aggressive salesmen; Amritsar's Golden Temple is a haven of calm. The temple, which is the center of the Sikh religion, could not be more welcoming. Peace and serenity radiate from the temple, despite the fact that thousands visit this holy place each day. Not only is it a beacon of calm, it is also stunningly beautiful. The "Golden" Temple gets its name from a small building in the center of the complex which is plated in 1500 pounds of gold. Usually this kind of ostentatious display of wealth by organized religion repels me, but the Sikhs balance this with incredible generosity. I will stay at the Golden Temple for three nights with absolutely no expectation of payment of any sort. Not only do they provide free lodging, but they have a 24 hour community kitchen that serves delicious all-you-can-eat Indian meals to over 20,000 people each day! It sounds too good to be true, but trust me, it is both very good and true.

After a few days of Delhi, I became very nervous when approached by Indians because I assumed they were out to get money somehow, which is usually the case in Delhi. The first person who approached me in the Golden Temple startled me and I began to politely walk away, until I realized that he wasn't selling anything and he didn't want anything from me except some friendly conversation. He was genuinely interested in why an American was in Amritsar and he was happy to tell me about his religion and its history. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was desperately in need of a guide because I know very little about the Sikh religion and even less about the rituals that take place in the Golden Temple. He walked me through the central ritual in the temple, which involves entering the Golden building in the center and offering food to the men who are reading from the holy book. Not only did he make sure I didn't make any offensive mistakes, but he explained the significance of it all. It was so refreshing to finally meet an Indian who I could talk to as a friend out of the context of a business transaction!

After just a few hours in Amritsar my curiosity about Sikhism bloomed. It is a fascinating religion which is relatively new by Indian standards (about 400 years old). The founder of the religion, Guru Sahib, sought combine elements of the two dominant religions of India; Hinduism and Islam. He also wanted to end the injustice of the caste system in India, which has traditionally labeled millions of Indians as "untouchable". The community kitchen is a fixture of every Sikh temple because it demonstrates two cardinal precepts of the faith; generosity and equality. Men, women, rich, poor, Hindu, Muslim, Christian - all are welcome to join in the communal meals and everyone sits side by side on the floor. This may not seem like a dramatic concept, but traditionally people belonging to the upper caste (Brahmans) do not even touch, much less eat in the company of those of lower castes. Sikhs also do away with the gender segregation that is so common in Islam. In this way it is a very egalitarian and progressive religion. I feel very welcome and at home in the temple, so I'm thankful my Thanksgiving dinner will be a plate of simple Indian food enjoyed on the floor with thousands of Indians of every creed and caste.

The Golden Temple has not always been such a peaceful place. The Punjab Province, where Amritsar is located and Sikhism was born, experienced a great deal of unrest in the 1980s. Sikhs were unhappy with the government of Indira Gandhi and wanted to form an independent nation, Khalistan, from the Punjabi speaking provinces of India and Pakistan. Rebel groups formed and armed themselves, eventually taking refuge in the Golden Temple in 1983 demanding the independence of Punjab Province. Mrs. Gandhi (no relation to THE Gandhi) who was politically and religiously Hindu, decided to use a strong-arm military tactic instead of negotiation. On June 5th, 1984 she ordered the Indian army to storm the temple to evict and kill the militants. The results were disastrous. After two days of heavy fighting much of the temple was destroyed and thousands of innocent Sikh pilgrims were killed. This resulted in Sikhs protesting around the world and further unrest in Punjab Province. Sikhs have a very bloody history full of political persecution and it is actually a requirement that all Sikhs carry a special sword, "Kirpan" at all times as a reminder of their duty to defend their faith against injustice. They had their revenge on October 31, 1984 when Indira Gandhi was shot by two of her Sikh body guards. This led to anti-Sikh riots throughout India, and relations between Hindus and Sikhs are still tense, despite years of rapprochement. In India religion and politics are taken much more seriously than in America; they are often a matter of life and death.

So there is your daily dose of religious history. If you think that you will never actually run into a Sikh, you are almost certainly wrong; there are over a million Sikhs in North America, all of whom can be recognized by their special turban which covers their uncut hair. I will leave the Sikh homeland in two days on an overnight train to Rishikesh, which is a Hindu holy city that is popular with backpackers. I have photos of a few photos of Delhi and some decent photos of the Golden Temple now.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Safe and Sane Thanks to Bahrain

2008-11-21T01:47:00.001-08:00

I think that I have finally arrived in Delhi, but it feels more like I have woken up in a cartoon; a world full of vivid colors, bizarre characters, layers and layers of ridiculous sound effects, and constant unceasing motion in every direction. Not to mention the smells; exotic spices, urine, baking bread, burning trash, perfumes, and body odor (most likely my own) fill the air. All in all it is a little overwhelming after three nights of little or no sleep on trains, airport chairs, and planes.

The trek began when I said some heartfelt goodbyes at Yakabagh house and headed off to Istanbul on an overnight bus. Being ever-conscious of my ever-depleting budget, I bypassed Istanbul and took the bus company's free shuttle to the airport. Supplied with a jar of Nutela and a loaf of bread, I waited out until my 4 a.m. flight to Bahrain (a tiny island in the Middle East for those of you, like me, who had no idea). This turned into a 6:30 flight, but they mercifully served a nice breakfast, and the best was yet to come. I was fully prepared for 14 hours of reading and munching on junk-food in the Bahrain airport during my layover, but after disembarking, the passengers were directed to a customer service counter at which we were issued hotel and meal vouchers! Every budget backpacker's dream! As if in a dream, I was transported to a four star hotel in the Kingdom of Bahrain with a full-out-all-you-can-eat international lunch buffet waiting for me! Hummus, grilled vegies, Morrocan rice and lamb, Tandoori chicken, Polynesian beef, Thai shrimp curry, and a whole table of deserts! I ate until walking became strenuous, and standing up straight was impossible. After a luxurious shower and a glorious nap, I went down for Round 2, which was pretty uninspired because my digestive system was still trying to deal with the pounds of spices, meat, and flavors that bombarded it only a few hours before. I was then taken back to the airport where my flight was boarding and where another meal was promptly served. This whole post may be heavy with food references, but when you have a budget of about $5 a day, free meals are a big deal, and two free all-you-can-eat meals in one day is a miracle that needs to be communicated to the world.

I was a little nervous for my arrival in Delhi because I had been reading my Lonely Planet guidebook (I finally broke my own "no guide book" rule because India is just too big and confusing) about how the taxi drivers at the airport are some of the best scammers in the world. Sure enough, they tried every scam in the book. Literally. First he tried to charge me double the going rate. No problem, I was expecting that one. I just held my ground, walked away as if I was going to another driver, and he caved in to my price. That was the easy part. When we were in the car he immediately asked me if it was my first time in India, sizing me up for the next scam, just as the LP guide said. I answered with a non-chalent "no, of course not", but the driver didn't seem impressed. He then asked if I had called to confirm my room, which I hadn't. I told him not to worry about it because I had an email confirmation. Still, he insisted on calling to check on my room because it is the tourist season and many hotels are over-booked and he doesn't want me to be stranded without a room. Of course it is just my well-being that he has in mind, right? Not even close. The scam is that he calls a different number, some friend, and he says the hotel gave away the room. Then he can take me to another hotel from which he will get a nice commission for bringing in a hapless tourist. I was well aware of this one too, so I refused to let him call. He took that in stride and said that he had to stop at a "tourist information center" because the address I provided was "no good", which was obviously B.S. because I had the exact address as well as two landmarks that it was near. Of course at the "information center" there was a sketchy guy who insisted that my hotel did not exist and that there is a much better on just down the street . . . that is when I had to raise my voice and actually get angry. All of a sudden we were back in the car and two minutes later I was at the door to my hotel! Amazing how that works. Of course the hotel also tried to scam me by telling me that all the economy rooms were full and that I would have to take a deluxe room, by this point I was already jaded and demanded the same room I had reserved, and Viola! I had my economy room. I guess I'm glad I'm getting my India Ripoff's 101 course out of the way early, but I'm sure it will become exhausting eventually.

I'll be spending my first two days in India taking things very slowly. I slept for six hours before finally venturing out into the urban jungle to find an internet cafe and write this post. Next; more napping. I have six months in the country and I'm in no hurry to get the inevitable "Delhi Belly" that plagues travelers who are plopped into a whole new universe of germs and bacteria while their immune systems are worn and vulnerable. So I'm taking things slowly, I have lots of time to explore the city.

I'll have pictures as soon as I suck up my pride and put on my tourist uniform. Until then, I have my Yakabagh photos up on Picasa.

The Calm Before the Storm

2008-11-12T01:34:00.000-08:00

The last week and a half has been blissfully simple, perfectly balanced, constantly stimulating, and almost too healthy. Morning call to prayer at sunrise from the local mosque (about 20 feet from where I sleep), Yoga at 6, breakfast at 6:30, olive picking until lunch, then crushing and pressing the olives for oil before a authentic Turkish dinner. Our group is now in a rhythm (physically, mentally, and socially) but the end of the workcamp is drawing near. Yakabagh House is more than a place, it is a state of mind.

I apologize if the above paragraph sounds a little flaky and/or corny, but this place and my time here are difficult to describe in prose. The house is surrounded by citrus trees that are yielding fresh oranges, pomelos, and mandarins, I spend my nights sleeping in a treehouse under the stars, and the olive grove is perched on a hill overlooking the Xanthos valley and the ancient Lycian city of Pinara. That is just the setting, the work itself is stimulating and satisfying. Olive picking is obviously monotonous, but climbing trees on warm Mediterranean mornings is not so bad. The group is also involved in the actual oil production, in which we use custom machines to extract the oil from the olives and to process olives into food. I've learned a lot, including that raw olives taste TERRIBLE and that green and black olives are not different varieties- green olives are just young black olives.

The people I've come to know here are also very special. It is a very international group as I mentioned before, but what makes the situation even more unique is that the couple which runs the farm are also intercultural. Sinan is a native Turk, but his wife, Isabel, is Cuban and speaks only Spanish and Turkish. At any given meal there are five languages spoken - Turkish, English, Spanish, French, and German. This makes me painfully aware of how mono-lingual I am, something which I am determined to change in the coming years. Although I've learned little to no Turkish, I have learned more Spanish in the past few days than in all my Spanish classes combined. A casual environment, encouraging teacher, and proper motivation are infinitely more conducive to learning a language than a classroom setting. I really didn't expect to come away from Turkey with more Spanish, but I like these kinds of unexpected twists.

So despite a fall from a tree which left me with a swollen knee, and the rain today which has kept us indoors, my time here has been better than I expected. All of the fresh fruit and vegetables have been the perfect antidote to the loads of white flour and cheese that I consumed in Georgia, so my body is beginning to regain its former shape. It is hard to believe that one week from now I will enter the madness of the Indian sub-continent where a whole new phase of my journey will begin. But, for now, I will try to be more mindful of the present and enjoy each moment as it happens . . .

Sorry I have no photos, but I can't upload them on this computer, so here are a few from the Yakabagh website. I'll post again and add pictures when I pass through Istanbul in about a week on the way to the airport.

Just Another Tourist

2008-11-01T03:08:00.000-07:00

As much as I despise looking like the stereotypical tourist, I have spent the last three days carrying around the tourist trifecta; camera, bottle of water, and map. Istanbul has been getting tourists for hundreds, if not thousands, of years, so needless to say the locals are used to being gawked at, photographed and asked stupid questions in foreign languages. Luckily I was in good company; I was joined by six other young people from around the world (America, France, Holland, Korea, Switzerland, and Japan) who will also be traveling to the coast to harvest olives. We also had a local tourguide who was able to answer most of our questions and prevented us from getting helplessly lost in the maze of streets that wind around Byzantium.

We spent the first day just wandering around and getting a feel for the city. The weather has been absolutely perfect for autumn; warm sunny days and cool nights. The tourist season is over, so the streets are relatively empty compared to the spring and summer months, but Istanbul attracts visitors year-round. The second day was spent touring the Aya Sofia Cathedral/Mosque/Museum - a long and complicated history, but a seriously amazing building. We also visited the Grand Bazaar, Spice Bazaar, Topkapi Palace, and Blue Mosque, which was the first mosque that I have ever entered. The Blue Mosque was simply decorated and very peaceful, despite there being more tourists than worshipers.

Yesterday we all went for a cruise up the Bosphorus Straight, the body of water which connects the Black Sea to the Mediteranean, and divides the European and Asian sides of the city. After a long hike uphill to an old castle we relaxed and laid in the sun before having a picnic on the boatride back to the city. I enjoyed being out of the city because Istanbul is not the best place for a backpacker on a tight budget. Turkey as a whole is quite cheap, but prices in Istanbul are comparable to prices in some Eurpean cities. I shouldn't complain because a cheap meal of a Doner Kebab and drink can be had for less than three dollars, but a meal at a nicer restaurant is closer to ten dollars. I guess I've just been spoiled by free meals at Temi and the very cheap food in Eastern Turkey.

Tonight I take a 12 hours bus ride from Istanbul to Fethiye to begin picking olives. The weather should be nice and warm and the beach is only a short distance from where we are staying, so again I am narrowly escaping winter's arrival. I hope to post again soon with pictures of the olive farm, but I have no idea about internet access at the site. But here are my touristy pics of Istanbul.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly Days of Traveling

2008-10-29T03:54:00.000-07:00

Independent travel can be immensely rewarding with beautiful days full of exotic sights, sounds, tastes, and smells. Then there are the other days. The in-between days which are filled with dirty bus stops, angry taxi drivers, overpriced food, and constant confusion about where the hell I am how how to get where I'm trying to go. During the last week I have had both, luckily more of the former than the latter.

The trip from Tbilisi, Georgia to Trabzon, Turkey was one of the more miserable that I have had the displeasure of experience thus far on my trip. I tried to sleep on a noisy and busy train from Tbilisi to Batumi, arriving very tired before dawn. I wandered aimlessly for about an hour to postpone the inevitable bargaining and arguing with a taxi driver, which is absolutely necessary to get a fair price for the trip to the Turkish border. After a prolonged battle with a group of persistant old men who view me as an obscenely rich American, I finally got a fair fare to the border. Then the fun part began. For a variety of reasons, some sensible and others more malicious, getting into Turkey is always an ordeal. When I arrived at the border at 9 a.m., there were about 500 people waiting in "line" to get through the passport control. In fact, it was nothing like a line, it was a mass of hurried, desperate Georgians all pushing, shoving, and squirming their way to the small gate at which there were only TWO Turkish border guards checking passports. There were no bathrooms, no concessions and no orderliness to be found. My entire morning, and afternoon, were spent getting pushed, squeezed and elbowed by people of all shapes and sizes. It was so bad towards the front that an old man in front of me passed out and a young woman became hysterical, she screamed bloody murder until she was carried away. I can see how people die in stampedes and crowds in India and other populous places - the pressure of shoulders on every side was really incredible.

So the ordeal ended at around 4 p.m. when I finally got an little stamp on my passport. Then came more arguing, haggling and bargaining with a new set of cab drivers intent on getting as much money from me as possible. The first price I was quoted was 200 Lira to Hopa. That is $120 for a ten mile ride. Needless to say, I just laughed. I had to continue this from town to town, taking a shared minibus to Rize and then a large bus to Trabzon. I am always running into travelers who say they "just love to bargain" with the locals when they travel. I understand the necessity of negotiating a fair price, it is tradition in many cultures and economies, but I do not enjoy the process. A white man traveling alone with a large backpack is always targeted as an easy mark, so I immediately start at a disadvantage. In order to get a fair price, I have to not only be firm, but do the walking-away act at least two or three times until they get the point that I refuse to pay more because I'm American. This obviously frustrates and disappoints the vendor, so the process ends with me angry and the vendor disappointed - someone please explain how this can be fun. The worst part is that I usually have more money in my pocket than the locals earn in a month, so I always end up feeling a tinge of guilt about arguing about a few dollars with a person who is supporting a family on his or her meager income. Those few dollars are much more important to them then they are to me, but if I went around paying whatever the locals asked for I would have been broke in Bulgaria. So the bargaining continues, but only out of necessity.

I arrived in a cold and rainy Trabzon (don't worry, the entire post isn't a long whine; there is a happy ending) with some vague information about a Catholic convent which takes in travelers. I wandered, asking for Santa Maria whenever I saw someone who looked friendly. Finally I found it in the middle of the old quarter of town and knocked on the steel gates. I almost gave up after 5 minutes of knocking and yelling, but just before I went to Plan B (which I had not yet formed) two French guys opened the gate and greeted me warmly. They seemed surprised, but happy, to see me, and immediately showed me to my room. Since this was a Catholic convent, I imagined a cot in a basement with minimal accommodations; I couldn't have been more wrong. I had an entire guesthouse to myself. Shower and Western toilet in my room, full kitchen, washer and dryer, and a garden terrace. I almost wept out of pure joy. Remember that at this point I had not enjoyed hot water or a shower in a month, and this shower had unlimited hot water, lots of pressure, and a removable shower head! The best part of all -- it was FREE! Almost enough to convert me to Catholicism . . .

So I spent the next three days relaxing and enjoying Trabzon. I can not fathom why the guidebooks all give the city a lackluster review; the setting is beautiful, the people are friendly and it is all much cheaper and more authentic than Istanbul. Getting by with English isn't easy, but why should it be? The other Trabzon photos are here.

So now I am back in the touristy but incomparable city of Istanbul to meet with the fellow members of my Turkish work camp. We have a few days of doing the touristy bit in Istanbul before heading down to the coast to start harvesting olives for two and a half weeks. I'll try to post my Istanbul pictures before I head off to the camp because I don't know if I'll have regular internet access.

Running Away from Winter

2008-10-23T04:46:00.000-07:00

It was difficult to say goodbye to the people of Temi this morning. I'm sure more difficult for me than them because they are used to waving goodbye to volunteers, but I am not used to saying goodbye to 60 wonderful and caring people all at once.

Although it was tough to leave, it an appropriate time to move on. The seasons are changing and the air is cooling quickly, which means no more agricultural work and construction projects are wrapping up for the winter. There is already snow on the ground and most of the fruit has fallen from the trees.

My last few days were spent taking trips to local sites with some of the Temi residents, including an old church overlooking the Telavi valley. I enjoyed the decrease in work and took the opportunity to goof off with the kids as often as possible. I have lots of pictures now, which you can view at Picasa. I just wanted to make a quick post while I'm here in Tbilisi for the afternoon. Tonight I catch a sleeper train to Batumi, then tomorrow a bus to Trabzon, Turkey. I might spend a couple nights in Trabzon before heading back to Istanbul to meet my workcamp group for a few days of sightseeing. Yeah for a week of Trains, Buses and Taxis :-(

Has It Really Been 3 Weeks?

2008-10-19T05:06:00.000-07:00

It is difficult to describe three amazing weeks in Georgia in one posting, but since this is the first time I've had internet access, I guess I'll have to try. Temi is a very unique place - 60 individuals from very different backgrounds living together and working extremely hard to build a utopian community that serves as a home to the socially vulnerable and lives close to the earth. Sounds like a cliché hippie idea, but this couldn't be farther from the truth. Temi has sprung out of the Georgian culture's deep sense of hospitality and community to fill an urgent need - replacing the failed Soviet era social care institutions for orphans and people with physical and mental disabilities.

Temi is a community for those without a community of their own, but feels more like one large family. Being an organizationally minded Westerner, I found the whole scene to chaotic and confusing during my first week. There are no job titles, no organizational structure, and no hierarchy. Despite this lack of formal structure, Temi is very efficient I was wrong to assume that anarchy prevailed. There is a very effective form of organization, that of interpersonal accountability and personal motivation for the group to succeed. There are no posted rules, no community meetings, and no formal system for punishing members, but problem behaviors and community issues are dealt with on a daily basis through mutual trust and respect between individuals.

My role at Temi has also been very informal - work when I want doing whatever I like. I still find this frustrating because I'm used to having a schedule and a task list at all times. I am definitely used to the schedule; breakfast at 10, work until lunch at 3 and then a few more hours of work until dinner at 7. My work has included harvesting vegetables from the garden, cutting firewood, helping with the various construction projects, gathering fruits and mushrooms in the mountains, and a little bit of grantwriting. Unfortunately this work has not been enough to burn off the thousands of calories that I consume each day. All food here is fresh and home-made - fresh baked bread with homemade cheese for breakfast, fresh salad and soup for lunch and some sort of Georgian specialty for dinner. Due to my weak will-power, the over zealous Georgian hospitality and the use of whole milk and lots and lots of butter in the food, I have gained probably ten pounds since my arrival. I think I need to fast for the next month in Turkey to get back to normal.

Not all aspects of life at Temi are as perfect as the above description may indicate. The facilities are dirty and overcrowded, there is almost no hot water, and there is no shower. Yes, I have gone three weeks straight without a shower. Bathing materials include a bar of soap, a big bucket and a small bucket of lukewarm water - I'll let you figure it out. Money is understandably scarce, so the children do not have the clothes or toys that they would like, and clothes are not as new or clean as many of the other children in the village school. Despite these difficulties, all the children are loved and well-fed, and are much happier than they would be at a large government run institution.

One child in particular has affected me deeply. Datuna is an adorable seven year old boy who is in a wheelchair due to a fall out of a seventh story window. His mother was abusive and chronically homeless, and he came to Temi about three years ago in bad health and with behavioral difficulties. He was immediately accepted into the Temi community and his development since he arrived has been very positive. He is a gifted child, he already speaks several English words just from listening to me speak. During my stay, a Scottish Physical Therapist has visited to assess his condition and to teach him exercises which may increase his mobility. The PT was accompanied by a Venezuelan filmmaker who will be producing a documentary about Temi and Datuna in particular. The most exciting result of the visit is that there is a surgeon in the UK who can repair some of his spinal damage enabling him to stand. Unfortunately there are many barriers preventing this from happening, mainly legal. His mother is technically still his legal guardian and she would have to give permission for him to have surgery, not to mention to get a passport and visa to allow him to travel to the UK. Transfer of custody of a child has never taken place in Georgia, so it will be no easy task. The Georgian Human Rights Ombudsman visited Temi to discuss the situation, so there is hope. I have learned so much from this situation - it is definitely "Intercultural Youth and Family Development" in action!

The entire experience has been both rewarding and humbling. Since I don't speak more than a dozen words in Georgian and only three people at Temi speak any English, my ability to communicate is very limited. I am known as "Luca" by many people here, but I am also known as "Lucasee" by many of the children - "-see" is a diminutive suffix added to the end of children's names when they are young. I think this is both endearing and appropriate because I am as helpless and ignorant as a child. I do not know how to do many things that all Georgians take for granted and I can't speak as well as a three year old. I realize now how absolutely integral learning the local language is to successful intercultural helping - this is the first time I have traveled to a place where English is almost completely unknown. It never ceases to amaze me that people are always apologizing to me for not speaking English -- I tell them that I am the one who traveled to Georgia, it is I who should be apologizing to them. Imagine a Georgian coming to the US not speaking a word of English and expecting people to understand Georgian. This is obviously a ridiculous scenerio, but the reverse should be considered equally ridiculous.

I have about a week left at Temi before heading Westward to Istanbul for four days of touring the big historic sites and taking long, hot, luxurious showers at every opportunity.

Rest and Relaxation in Georgia

2008-09-29T07:12:00.001-07:00

Based on the media coverage that Georgia has recieved in the past few months, most people imagine the country as a heap of smoldering rubble. It is true that Russia has been bullying the small nation around, but luckily the military clashes have been isolated in two breakaway regions, South Ossetia and Abkhazia, which are located in the north of the country. The rest of the nation is unscathed and going about their business as normal. In fact, I have found Tbilisi to be a fairly calm and quiet capital city.

Not only is Tbilisi calm, it is located in an incredibly beautiful setting; mountains surround the city and the Mtkvari River (how is that for a consonant cluster?) runs through the center. There are ancient churches of all kinds (Armenian, Georgian, Zorastrian, Muslim) scattered throughout the city. There is a little bit of a Soviet feel in the outskirts of the city, but the center does not appear to be Soviet at all, but much older. Despite the ubiquitous historical monuments, the city is very cosmopolitan and is Westernizing at a very rapid pace.

I scored big with my couchsurfing arrangment - I have a huge apartment with a balcony overlooking a main street all to myself! My host has moved out but still has the place for the remainder of the month, so until tomorrow morning it is all mine. It has been good to catch up on some sleep after a week of traveling. My night train from Batumi to Tbilisi involved a four year old with access to unlimited Fanta, candy bars and chewing gum. Needless to say, it was not a quiet night and I didn't get much sleep.

I spent the day touring the city and taking pictures of the main landmarks. Unfortunately, I am an unskilled and unenthusiastic photographer with a sub-standard digital camera. Thus, my pictures make Georgia look grey and dull. I assure you that everything I have photographed looked twice as good in person. Now that you are excited to see my pictures, here they are.

Tomorrow I head East on a mini-bus for Gremi Village in the Kakheti region to join the Temi-Community for a month of grape harvesting. The village is fairly remote, so I don't know if I will have any internet access, so there may be an extended lapse in my postings. Hopefully there will be a nearby internet terminal so that I can get at least a weekly information fix and stay in touch.

Unexpected and Unbelievable Turkish Hospitality

2008-09-26T07:42:00.001-07:00

Traveling alone has its own set of risks and rewards. There is the ever-present risk that you will be scammed, conned or ripped off. There is also a certain loneliness that you experience on an 18 hour bus ride during which you hear hardly a word you can understand. These conditions can easily lead to isolation, but I learned an important lesson on my bus trip to Trabzon - most people are genuinely nice and helpful. This of course does not mean that I will assume that a random stranger is out to help me along, but it does mean that being overly paranoid will not lead to enjoyable travels. I just have to trust my instincts and go with the flow.

Go with the flow is exactly what I did when I met Celib on the bus. He noticed that I spoke English and no Turkish and tried extremely hard to communicate with me, despite the fact that his English vocabulary consists of about 10 words. It is amazing how much can be communicated with 10 words, lots of hand gestures, and 18 hours on a bus. Near the end of the journey, I realized that he was inviting me to his home outside of Trabzon. I was immediately suspicious and I relented. I then realized that the probability of him taking me to his dungeon and hacking me to bits was very remote, so I decided to go for it. He seemed like a nice guy, right?

I couldn't have been more right. We got off the bus about 30 kilometers before Trabzon and hitched a ride into the green hills that overlooked the Black Sea. It was stunningly beautiful, like nowhere I have ever seen. We first visited his house where he lives with his parents, sister and grandmother. By Western standards, he is very poor, but they have everything they need. They grow nearly everything imaginable - Kiwis, Bananas, Potatoes, Pears, Apples, Corn, Carrots, Hazelnuts, and fruits whose name I don't even know. They also have chickens, a cow and doves (for eggs apparently). After a quick tour of his home, he rushed me up to the village school so that I could speak English to the school children. I really had no idea what to expect, but I was so engrossed by the exotic beauty of my surroundings I had no time to be nervous. When we entered the school and he announced that I was an American I was immediately swamped by students yelling "Hello America!". I was then ushered into the teacher's lounge where I chatted with the teachers using the English teacher as a translator. They had a lot of questions about my perception of Turkey and Islam, none of which I was really comfortable answering, but I tried my best. I then went to the English class and started to help with the lesson before I was summoned to the Principal's office. Yes, I was in trouble. Apparently strange foreign guys who randomly show up on a bus aren't allowed to hang out in classrooms. Not really a bad rule when you think about it, but the English teacher was furious. I had an awkward half hour in the Principal's office before escorting out to take some photos. Celib's younger brother then walked me back to his home.

Since it is Ramadan, no one in the village (except young children) eat or drink between sunrise and sunset. This is obviously tough to do, so most people take a substantial nap during the day, which is exactly what I did when I got back. I woke up to the evening call to prayer echoing within the valley and the family sitting down for their long-awaited dinner. It was a delicious feast of fish from the Black Sea and various fruits and vegetables that they had grown. I was forced to eat until I was stuffed and then we went around to Celib's various relatives houses for more tea and snacks. It was an amazing display of hospitality, and I was barely able to express my thanks due to my absolute ignorance of the Turkish language.

The next day I was fed breakfast even though they could not eat themselves. I showed the family pictures of my family from my Ipod and now they are all invited to Turkey next year! I don't think that is going to happen, but I know the offer was genuine. Celib then gave me a huge shopping bag full of roasted hazelnuts (which I love) took me to the bus station in Trabzon and insisted on buying my ticket to Batumi, Georgia, as well as buying me snacks to take on the trip. But no, it didn't stop there. Once I was on the bus, he came on board 3 times to tell me what was going on with the driver and why we were running late. He even asked people sitting around me if they spoke English so that I would have someone to talk to!!! He did all of this and expected absolutely nothing in return.

I am now safely in Georgia waiting for an overnight train to Tbilisi. I'm staying with a Couchsurfer for two nights and then I'm off to Temi-Community in the far Eastern corner of Georgia. I'll try to post pictures and stuff about Georgia in the next few days while in Tbilisi because I don't know if I'll have any internet connection for a while after that.

A Good Time to be Abroad

2008-09-23T23:44:00.000-07:00

In the past few days I have been trying to keep updated on local and national disasters that have befallen my home. The national banking crisis is shaking the US financial system to its core and my hometown of Silex, Missouri is recovering from a catastrophic flood. I have been gone for a month now, and this is usually when the first wave of homesickness occurs. Knowing that the US economy is crumbling and that my hometown is busy scraping up river mud reminds me why I went abroad in the first place.

Of course I have a great deal of sympathy for my friends and family who have had their homes destroyed by the Cuivre River and part of me wishes I was home to help them in this time of need. However, I do not have the least bit of sympathy for the investment bankers who are so shortsighted that they couldn't put their greed on hold for a minute in order to prevent this collapse. Thank goodness good ol' Uncle Sam will be there to bail his high dollar friends out. My only question is this; if the government can afford to spend $700,000,000,000.00 to bail out wealthy bankers, why can't it afford a few thousand dollars to bail out the financially strapped victims of a devastating flood in the nation's heartland?

Enough about the eternally frustrating world of money and politics. Istanbul is awesome! I have been a bit under the weather the past few days with a head cold, but I still had plenty of time to wander around the backstreets and gaze at the innumerable ancient monuments around the city. I also had the pleasure of hopping from Europe to Asia and back again in the same afternoon. That's right; Istanbul is the only city in the world which occupies two continents. It truly is where East meets West. The sights, sounds, smells and tastes are very exotic. Unfortunately, there are many people who can spot a tourist from a mile away and instantly see dollar signs. I have a few tricks for dealing with these people, including dressing down as much as possible and speaking Spanish when they approach me. When I go out in sandals, riped up shorts and an old T-shirt, I become invisible to the hundreds of carpet salesman, tour guides and club promoters who assume I'm a bum, or worse, a dirty hippy. The truth is that they aren't far off - I budget does not allow for buying any Oriental rugs while I'm here.

Today I leave for Trabzon, which is in the far Northeastern corner of Turkey on the Black Sea coast. I'll spend two nights there staying either at a Catholic Convent (free rooms) or with a Couchsurfing host. After that I'm off to Tbilisi, Georgia! Luckily I'll have two more visits to Istanbul, so I didn't feel pressured to see it all this time around.

Sorry there are no pictures, this internet connection is extremely slow and my photos aren't uploading. I've been spoiled by the fast connections in Bulgaria that are faciliated by the EU. I don't know how much internet access I will have for the next month, so posts and photos may be patchy at best.

Constantınople

2008-09-21T22:14:00.000-07:00

I'm now blurry eyed and dazed ın my hostel lobby ın the beautiful city of Istanbul after an adventurous night of passport controls, customs agents, bus transfers and visa purchases. Adventurous ıs euphemıstıc because the entire night was a hurried and confused blur.

I spent the day packing and saying my goodbyes to the wonderful people of Hotnitsa, especially the Sutherlands who have been amazingly gracious hosts throughout the past two weeks. So gracious that Allan called nearly every hotel ın Veliko Tarnovo trying to find someone who would sell me some Euros or Dollars. Why do I need Euros or Dollars when I'm traveling to Turkey, which uses the New Turkısh Lira Good questıon. The inexplicable answer is that an entry visa can only be purchased ın US Dollars or Euros. Of course I don't fully realize this until Sunday evening, two hours before my bus is scheduled to leave. Luckily Allan and Eileen came to the rescue and made some strategic calls, eventually finding a frıend who could sell me 20 Euros in exchange for Bulgarian Leva. Unfortunately, that was only the beginning. On route to their friends' home, Allan and I became stuck behind a military parade marching through the center of Veliko Tarnovo. Brilliant. The detour led to us getting lost in VT's meandering back streets while our cell phone's low battery alarm chimed incessantly and the low fuel light flipped on. With only 20 mınutes remaining until my bus left, I may or may not have become slightly anxious. I now realize that Allan only wanted to make my last few minutes in Bulgaria memorable - which they were - and he delivered me to the bus station with 20 Euros and time to spare. Whew. With all that behind me, I was ready for anything that the Turkish Border Control could throw at me.

The actual bus ride was almost pleasant: spacious seats, a stewardess who delivered free snacks and drinks, and regular bathroom breaks. Greyhound should take note. The border crossing was annoying at worst with lots of needless waiting around and too many guys with mustaches holding enormous machine guns between 1 and 3 AM. I finally arrived ın Istanbul at about 7 and spent about an hour trying to figure out (without a map or guidebook) how to get to my hostel. I was too efficient because now I am here and have to wait three more hours to check-in.

I'll have pictures and stuff about Istanbul in a few days once I am settled. I'm going to spend today resting and strolling and napping. It should be an interesting time to be here because it ıs the holy month of Ramadan, when Muslims fast during daylight hours. This ıs my first visit to a Muslim nation (albeit a secular one), so I have a lot to learn.

Strawbale 101: Alternative Buildings and Lifestyles

2008-09-16T10:11:00.000-07:00

The "three little pigs" were all wrong - believe it or not strawbales are an excellent building material. I have spent the past week working on a strawbale house that is very stable, extremely well insulated, and relatively easy and affordable to build. Despite what most people think, strawbales are not a fire hazard and are compact and durable enough to last for ages. Not only does straw make pragmatic sense for economic reasons, it is also a sustainable building material that can be acquired locally.

When I arrived in Hotnitsa, the basic structure of the house was in place, so we have been working on sealing the outside of the straw with layers of lime plaster. It is very dirty work, but also rewarding when progress is made. We have successfully finished the first coat since I've arrived and are due to begin the second outer coat tomorrow. Hopefully the second coat will be finished before I leave next weekend, but none of us are experts and we may still encounter a few surprises . . .

I find it fascinating that people were using strawbales to build houses in the Great Plains a century ago, but only recently has the practice been rediscovered as an economic and environmentally friendly way to build a structure. The ability to "Do It Yourself" is also attractive to many people who want the satisfaction of building a house themselves from the ground up. I am really interested in these sorts of alternative building methods, including cordwood, cobb and straw. I'm glad I am seeing the not-so-glamorous side of this alternative building method; I now have a real sense of how much work a project like this can take.

Natural housebuilding takes a lot of work, but it is labor intensive rather than capital intensive. This distinguishes it from modern construction in that it takes a lot of man hours rather than expensive equipment and specialized tools. This is where I come in - cheap labor! Allen and Eileen are registered on the Help Exchange website in order to recruit interested people to help them finish their project. This is a mutually beneficial arrangement for several reasons. The host get an extra set of hands without having to pay - an obvious plus - but simply provide accomodation and food. The volunteer gains experience in a project of interest and free accommodation for their time. In my case, I would never be able to afford a year long trip across Eurasia if I had to pay for accommodation and three meals a day. Also, this project and others give me a chance to gain practical, hands-on skills and get to know one region in some depth.

I have received a lot of grief from people when I tell them that I am 'volunteering' or 'working for free' while abroad, and at times I have questioned why I went to school for so many years if my time is worth nothing more than a bed and three squares a day. In reality though, most people work only for food and accommodation. I was working 60 hours a week in Missoula, but I had very little money left after I paid for my food and accommodation, and what little was left over I saved for traveling. Now, I work only 30 hours a week (6 hours a day/5 days a week) and I have lovely accommodation with three delicious meals that I don't have to prepare myself! And I am doing it in interesting corners of the globe! It is a much simpler arrangement than I had in Missoula - no bills, no taxes, no shopping - and I am learning a great deal.

I have just a few more days here at Hotnitsa, then off to Istanbul, Turkey for a few days before a long bus trip along the Black Sea coast to Tbilisi, Georgia! The next leg of the trip will be a little more adventurous - goodbye Europe and hello Asia!

P.S. - Sorry for spelling errors - the Spellcheck isn't working :-(

Global Socio-Economic Stratification. Fancy Term in a Simple Village

2008-09-10T06:50:00.000-07:00

It is strange to travel thousands of miles and find yourself nearly where you started. Living in the village of Hotnitsa is not unlike living in Silex (population 197) - I fled one small, provincial village for another. Of course many things are different - the language and culture - but much of the rest is the same. Most people make a living in either construction or farming. Everyone knows everyone else's business. Even the climate here in Bulgaria is strikingly similar to that of rural Missouri.

Today while I was walking around with a camera taking pictures of quaint scenes I'm sure the locals thought I was either crazy, very bored or a CIA agent. Of course I would laugh an any foreigner who purposefully travelled to Silex and took pictures of the lackluster scenery, but that is precisely what I want to see and experience during my time abroad. The monuments and museums of lively cities are naturally worth a visit, but I want to capture the mundane aspects of everyday life that are so often ignored. I can get on Google Earth and download a thousand pictures of Rome, London and Prague, but it is much more difficult and rewarding to see the surroundings of the average population. I am an American, but I feel no more at home in New York or San Francisco than I do in London or Toronto. These cities are all international and don't reflect the local history and rich culture of a region. If I wanted to show a foreign guest how Americans really live, I would in fact take him to Silex to hang out at the Kwik Store and cruise the back roads.

Although I am living in a traditional village, it will not be easy to become immersed in Bulgarian culture during my stay. I am living with a British couple (which is a cultural lesson all its own) who have limited Bulgarian social contacts. They are extremely kind and conscientious people who are making a solid effort at getting to know their neighbors, the local culture, and the language. This is made difficult by the fact that Bulgaria is experiencing an influx of British expats who are relocating due to the favorable climate and much more affordable cost of living. Since the Sutherlands have moved to Hotnitsa in 2003, about ten other British families have followed them. These families have naturally become close to one another and have created a community within a community.

An entire anthropological study could be conducted on this phenomenon of European integration. It is fascinating how the British are moving to Bulgaria for the cheap property and low cost of living while tens of thousands of Bulgarians are moving to Britain for the high wages and higher standard of living. The Brits here in Bulgaria seem to be getting along very well - they can get by with very little Bulgarian and the locals are happy to have them as neighbors. I wonder if the Bulgarians in Britain have had such a smooth transition. Undoubtedly they can not get by with only Bulgarian - they must learn English to function - and I'm sure that more than a few individuals view their new Eastern European neighbors with some suspicion. All of the Brits I have talked to here tell stories of being invited into homes for traditional Bulgarian family meals, which makes me wonder how many Bulgarians are invited into their new British neighbors' homes for dinner. I do not mean to say that people in Britain are snobish, rude or racist in any way, at least not any more than the average Western European. I just find it interesting how it is easier to move down the socio-economic heirarchy of nations than it is to move up it. The same can be said of an American moving to Costa Rica. The Costa Ricans will likely be very welcoming and open to a new neighbor from the U.S., but most people in the U.S. would be unlikely be as welcoming to a new neighbor from "south of the border".

Just some thoughts I have had while I'm elbow deep in straw here in Hotnitsa. I've really enjoyed my stay so far. I'm learning a lot about strawbale construction, which I'll post more about once we have made more progress on the house. Today was a day off, so I wandered through the town and walked to the Hotnitsa waterfall. Well, I tried to walk, but I was quickly picked up by two Bulgarians and a Swiss tourist. They were headed to the waterfall and my beard gave me away as a non-Bulgarian. We had a great time hiking around and attempting to communicate. Our conversations was partly in English, but we then moved to Spanish. Yes, one Swiss, two Bulgarians and one American trying to communicate in Spanish. This is why I love to travel!

More Hotnitsa Pictures

So Monasteries ARE Worth the Visit

2008-09-08T08:55:00.000-07:00

My thinly veiled disapointment about missing the Rila Monastery was cured yesterday. I spent the entire afternoon (in +90 degree weather) hiking up to a remote monastery in the hills above Veliko Tarnovo. The hike alone was worth it; amazing views of the city, the fortress, and the surrounding hills and valleys. Also, I didn't meet even one other person during 4 hours of hiking. Bulgaria has a ton of well blazed trails which even I didn't get lost on, despite the fact that I had no map and had gotten only sketchy directions from my hostel.

There were a few tourists visiting the Monastery, but they were all Bulgarians out on Sunday drives. It has been amazing how few tourists I have seen in Bulgaria, and of those tourists only one has been an American. Most of the tourists have been Brits or Germans who are passing through on their way to Turkey. I've enjoyed the lack of tourist traps and overrun attractions. Even Missoula had more tourists than Sofia or Veliko Tarnovo!

I was picked up by my Hotnitsa host, Eileen, this morning from Veliko Tarnovo. I was relieved to find that Eileen and her husband Allen are incredibly kind and welcoming people; working with them will be a sincere pleasure. They have a beautiful home in the small village of Hotnitsa and their strawbale house project is progressing nicely. I have especially enjoyed their British expressions and the frequent tea breaks! We got right to work this afternoon and I enjoyed getting my hands dirty. I'll have pictures of the project and the village soon, but now it is dinner time . . .

The pictures of the monastery and hike are now up and added to the Veliko Tarnovo album. Hotnitsa pictures still to come.

Who wants to go to a Monastery anyway?

2008-09-06T11:08:00.000-07:00

Traveling can seriously mess up one's sleep schedule. Tired when one should be out and about and wide awake when one should be sleeping. Such was the case for me the day I was to leave for the Rila Monastery. I couldn't stay awake past 8 p.m. but then was wide awake at 4 a.m. only to be back asleep at 7 a.m. - just in time to sleep through the only bus that goes to the Monastery from Sofia. Luckily I had not yet purchased my tickets and because I am traveling solo I can switch up my itinerary any time I like. So I got over my frustration about missing the bus and decided to head to the ancient city of Veliko Tarnovo instead. Good choice - how much fun can one have with a bunch of monks anyway?

Veliko Tarnovo did turn out to be an excellent choice. The city is much more relaxed than Sofia and it is a lot more scenic. There are endless places to stroll around and there are Bulgarians napping under every tree. My hostel is also very good - a big veranda, free internet and two free meals a day. I have spent a lot of time relaxing outdoors and enjoying the summer weather. Most of today was spent just strolling around and getting lost in the winding streets, taking in as many scenic views as possible. I also toured the "Tsarevets Fortress" which overlooks the city. It is a stunning site - castle walls surrounding towers and a restored church on a hill overlooking the town and river. The city itself is mainly a college town; it is home to one of Bulgaria's largest and most prestigous universities. Classes have not yet begun, which is one reason why the city is so quiet.

I have one more full day in VT before the folks from Hotnitsa come to pick me up. I'll probably spend it hiking around some of the hills and maybe going out on the town with some friends from the hostel. Otherwise I'll just be hanging out and planning the next leg of my journey from Bulgaria to Turkey to Georgia. I did some research today and it appears as though I can travel to Georgia as planned!! The situation has stabilized and as long as I steer clear of the conflict zones (Abkhazia and South Ossetia) I shouldn't have a problem. That came as a huge relief to me because I would have been deeply disapointed if I could not visit the Temi Community home in Georgia.

More pics (of much better quality than these) can be found, as will be the norm, at my Picasa site.

My next update will be from the village of Hotnitsa in the care of the Sutherland family!

Chest Hair and Cigarettes - A Full Day of Sofia

2008-09-04T09:00:00.000-07:00

I think Sofia's charms have won me over despite the almost complete lack of tourist infrastructure. Of course that is one reason why I chose to come to Sofia in the first place - it is off the beaten tourist track. It is so far off the track that I couldn't even find a postcard. Anywhere. In most cities they are everywhere you look, but Sofia apparently does not get many tourists. The few non-locals I saw were the same young backpackers that are staying at my hostel. (A quick shoutout to Hostel Mostel - by far the best hostel I have ever stayed at. Clean, friendly, fun, free internet and two free meals a day. If you ever find yourself in Sofia . . . ) Also, few people are willing to speak English. I say "willing" because I know they study English in school, but I get the feel that they seldom use it in their day to day life and are apprehensive about speaking to an American. That's OK, I'm good at hand gestures and slaughtering Bulgarian words with my tiny knowledge of the Cyrillic alphabet. Another benefit of have few tourists is that I have not been harassed at all! Usually Americans abroad are automatically assumed to be rich and are hounded by tour guides, taxi drivers and homeless for money. Not so in Sofia, I am left to wander the city at my leisure with little stress.

Sofia is interesting for a lot of reasons, but mainly because it is the gateway between the East and West. The people here do not look "European" (whatever that means) but rather they look Turkish, with dark black hair and a darker than olive complexion. The Soviet influence is also interesting, but does not dominate the landscape or architecture. I am very impressed with how clean the city is; the infrastructure is not in great shape, but there are few pollution or sanitation problems. The city is very pedestrian friendly and it is full of electric buses. Many US cities could learn a thing or two from the Bulgarians, but maybe I just have not been to the rougher parts of town.

If you are wondering about the title to the blog, those are the two things which I first noticed about the city. EVERYONE smokes cigarettes. Constantly. Apparently tobacco is a large cash crop for Bulgaria, so it is almost a national obligation to chain smoke. Little old ladies to 12 year olds in the park - I mean everyone is holding a lit cancer stick. My second observation was that all the men are very clean cut - short hair and clean shaven face - but they invariably have a huge unibrow and two buttons undone to expose their bountiful chest hair. So if I trim the beard and chop off my hair, I'll finally get to be fashionable!

Tomorrow I think I'm off to Rila Monastary to stay the night in a monk's cell! Should be rustic, beautiful and (I hope) memorable.

For the rest of my Sofia pictures, check out my Picasa gallery

NYC to Sofia

2008-09-03T22:01:00.000-07:00

I have finally made it to Bulgaria! Oddly enough, I had no access to the internet while I was in NYC, but now that I am in Sofia I have unlimited free internet access, so I have some catching up to do with my posts. Where to begin???

Sunday and Monday where spent shuttling between a cheap hotel in New Jersey and sightseeing in Manhattan. There was no way I could afford a hotel anywhere in New York, so staying at the Econolodge in Jersey was the only option - just a short train ride from Times Square. New York really is all it is cracked up to be - lively, internatonal and HUGE. I could spend weeks just walking around and people watching. It seemed as though no two people where from the same place - the variance of dress, language and ethnicity was amazing. I spent Sunday with my family on a bus and boat tour of Manhattan, which was a great way to see the highlights.

Monday I was on my own to stay at the "Ritz" hotel (the cliche sleazy hotel that charges by the hour) and wander around Central Park before going to JFK airport to catch my evening flight to Dublin. I was able to catch a few hours of sleep on the plane before I had to catch another flight Tuesday morning from Dublin to London. I then had the pleasure of hanging out in the airport for 16 hours trying not to go mad from boredom. I caught a little sleep and read a lot, then caught my next flight to Sofia, Bulgaria. I stumbled off the plane at the Sofia airport exhausted, smelly and more than a little confused. I decided to be adventurous (and cheap), so I took a bus from the airport rather than a taxi, which costs more but would have dropped me off right outside my hostel. I hopped on the bus and had no idea how to buy a ticket, so I decided I just didn't need one. Big mistake. My first interaction with a Bulgarian was with an overweight and grumpy man who flashed me a badge and asked for my bus ticket. Of course I had nothing to show him, so I was charged a 20 leva fine. This made my bus ride substantially more expensive than a taxi ride would have been. Foolish, but lesson learned. I eventually found my hostel, which is one of the best hostels I have ever seen - breakfast, dinner and even a beer included!! I got a full nights sleep last night and today I am ready to see what Sofia has to offer. I'll be posting again very soon with pictures, so stay tuned.

Finally the journey has begun!!

Evils of Ethanol

2008-08-28T19:03:00.000-07:00

I felt compelled to write and send a letter to the editor of the Lincoln County Journal while I was home, mainly because it is an accessible and locally important media outlet. I wanted to express my thoughts on the interconnectedness of my home and the world at large. Ethanol is not evil, but its recent popularity is misguided at best and is indicative of a larger economic and political system that benefits those in power while failing to improve the lives of the rest of the world. This is the letter that I wrote which will appear next week in the LCJ.

"Ethanol is Unethical"

It is great to see local agriculture improving. Farmers are finally getting
high prices for their crops thanks to increased commodity prices. This will
undoubtedly have a positive impact on the local economy, but unfortunately this
is overshadowed by another result of increased commodity prices - high food
prices. Global food prices have risen dramatically as a result of record high
prices for corn, wheat and soy beans. The situation is so alarming that
the United Nations has declared a “global food crisis” that threatens the lives
of millions of the world’s poorest people who cannot afford to buy enough food
for their families. The United Nations World Food Program reports that 18,000
children are dying each day from hunger related illnesses. World prices
for wheat, rice, soy and corn have all more than doubled since 2006, a
devastatingly sharp rise for half of the world’s population, 3 billion people,
who live on less than two dollars a day.

Why did farm commodity prices rise so dramatically and so quickly? Although there are many contributing factors, the primary cause is biofuel production. Converting corn to ethanol increases the demand for corn, thereby increasing its price. The increased value of corn has led to corn being planted in place of other crops such as soy and wheat. Decreased supply of soy and wheat has led to their price
increasing along with corn. Of course this increases the cost of raising
livestock because the feed prices have risen, thereby making meat, milk and eggs
at the grocery store considerably more expensive. According to U.S. News and
World Report, 25 percent of the 2007 corn harvest went to produce ethanol. The
use of so much of our harvest for non-food purposes has contributed to 75% of
the rise in global food prices according to the World Bank.
Many argue that biofuels are an important alternative for environmental reasons, but in 2007 biofuels replaced less than 2 percent of our total oil consumption and if all of our nation’s farmland were devoted to biofuel production, it would only replace
7 percent of oil consumption in the US. Obviously biofuels are not the cure for
our energy problems; energy conservation and solar and wind energy sources are
much more responsible and sustainable. Unfortunately politicians support
biofuels because they are considered “alternative” energy that will release us
from our dependence on foreign oil. Farmers love biofuel production
because it stands to make them money. Many others support biofuels because
they stand to save a few cents at the gas pump. Do any of these reasons justify
an increase in human suffering due to food shortages?

The entire biofuel frenzy is misguided. In the United States we are now converting food that could help to feed hungry people into gasoline. It would be considered criminal if we were to physically take food from starving people and use it to run our
expensive and inefficient cars, but since the effects of our actions are clouded
by economics, we are able to ignore the reality of the situation. In
today’s world it is extremely important to realize that globalization has
intricately linked us to the rest of the world. As the richest and most
prosperous nation in history, it is our responsibility to be conscious of how
our lifestyle affects the other 6 billion people on the planet. While gas prices
are high our primary concern is filling our gas tanks, but we need to keep in
mind that there are billions more who are concerned with filling their
stomachs.

The Charms of Lincoln County

2008-08-19T10:56:00.000-07:00

I have been in Silex the past week trying to soak up as much of my home as I can before I leave. Sometimes I laugh at myself for wanting to leave in order to work on a farm and get closer to nature when there are plenty of farms and much natural beauty all around Missouri. However, driving a combine around hundreds of acres of corn and soybeans does not fit with my goal of "farming". I hope to learn more about the connection between the environment in which I live and the food that I eat. Unfortunately agriculture in the midwest is more industrial - using the land as a resources which can be manipulated to produce a commodity that will not be consumed by the local community. I guess by midwestern standards what I will be doing overseas is closer to "gardening" than "farming", which is OK with me.

Although the area's farming hasn't tempted me to stick around, the area's natural beauty is becoming more apparent as my departure nears. I have been lucky enough to notice Missouri's charms while boating in Mark Twain Lake, hiking around my grandmother's land, and fishing for catfish while watching the sunset with my friends. It helps that the weather has been perfect since I have been home; sunny skies, low humidity and a high near 80 degrees! Is this really Missouri in August?!?

I have also had many opportunities to reconnect with family and friends. I hosted an informal 6 year high school reunion BBQ at my Mom's house that turned out to be way more fun than I expected. Just take a look at the picture, it says it all. It may look like poor attendance, but in a class of less than 30 about half showed up; this picture is the crew at 1:00 A.M. It was great to see so many old friends and find out what they are doing with their lives - a lot of wedding rings and a few little ones too (luckily they went to bed before this picture was taken). I officially resigned as class president because my traveling makes it difficult to plan anything substantial. Besides, I think it is safe to say that our ten year reunion will be a more formal and calm affair . . . but you never know with the Class of '02.

I have a few more days to enjoy Missouri and spend some time with my college friends in Columbia. On Sunday I pack my bags one more time and drive to upstate New York with my Dad and Uncle Ken to spend time fishing with my Uncle Steve and Judy. It is all going by very fast, but time flies when you're having fun. I shouldn't end a post with a cheesy line like that, but so be it.

Georgia on My Mind

2008-08-12T08:56:00.000-07:00

Why is it that distant small countries are only mentioned in the mainstream media in the context of disasters, war and famine? This was again the case when the Republic of Georgia came into the spotlight over the last few days. As you may know, my plan is to travel to Georgia in October for about a month to work at the Temi Community Farm, but these plans may be interrupted by an overly aggressive neighbor to the north – Russia.

Georgia and Russia have had a contemptuous relationship since the breakup of the Soviet Union. Georgia has allied itself with the West and Russia has lost most of its influence in the small country. More pertinent to this conflict is the refusal of Georgia to let two breakaway regions, South Ossetia and Abkhazia, become part of Russia. These regions have been struggling for independence from Georgia since the breakup of the USSR, but have only been granted regional autonomy. The rationale behind Russia’s attack on Georgia was to protect South Ossetia from Georgian aggression, but in reality that is not the full story. Russia was far more interested in displaying its military might and frightening its other neighbors and re-asserting its influence in the region. Luckily the Bush administration and other foreign leaders quickly denounced the military actions on Georgian soil as disproportionate and in violation of military law. As of this afternoon, a cease fire is being worked out that will hopefully end the conflict and establish a peace-keeping force to monitor the situation. A good report on the history and future of the conflict can be found on NPR’s website

My hope is that this conflict will be cooled off by the time I am set to arrive in October. Georgia is generally a safe place and the area in which I hope to travel is on the far eastern end of the country – a stable region many miles from the conflict with Russia. I would be greatly disappointed if I could not travel to Georgia – I have had a long-standing interest in the Caucuses and the Temi Community is a fascinating mix of self sustaining agriculture and social service. I’ll be watching the news closely in coming weeks and I’ll keep the blog posted with any pertinent news.

P.S. Why is do a distant Caucasian country and a US state share the name “Georgia”? Apparently the state of Georgia is named after King George II of England and the Republic of Georgia is named after St. George. (This is the most likely of many theories because Georgia was one of the first nations to adopt Christianity in the 4th century).

Wabun, Wabun, Wabun!

2008-08-11T11:01:00.000-07:00

I just left the beauty of the great north, having spent five days at the Lewis family's camp - Wabun www.wabun.com. This was the 76th season that Wabun has taken 10 - 18 year olds into the Canadian North on wilderness canoe trips. The location of the camp could not be better - a beautiful island in the middle of Temagami Lake in Northern Ontario. The camp was started by Jessica's great grandfather, so there is a great deal of tradition and history on the island. Honestly, it was all a little overwhelming for an outsider such as myself (lots of cheering, insider lingo, and traditions), but I enjoyed my stay and everyone was very friendly.

I was present for the "paddle in", during which all of the campers paddle their canoes onto a beach full of parents and friends ready to receive their loved ones after 6 weeks in the wilderness. It was striking how healthy and fit the campers and staff were on their return, I wish I had the opportunity to participate in such a camp during my youth as it undoubtedly builds confidence, strength and self-reliance.

I was able to spend most of my time relaxing on the lake - eating, kayaking, napping, fishing, eating, swimming, and more eating. I met lots of Jess' family and friends, all of whom were kind and friendly despite my total lack of canoeing knowledge or experience :-) It was interesting to view the camp from the outside because over the past six years I have worked or volunteered at 10 different summer camps across the country. Without exception, the camps I have worked at have served either people with disabilities or at-risk youth, so observing a camp for the general population was very interesting.

Sorry for the total lack of pictures, I didn’t pull my camera out at all during my time at Wabun. I promise I will get better at picture taking once I get overseas! The photo above is from the Wabun website - there are lots more so check it out and who knows, maybe you know someone who would like to spend six weeks in the beautiful Canadian wilderness . . . .

Oh Canada

2008-08-04T15:11:00.000-07:00

The journey has officially began. I hit the road on Friday afternoon following a difficult (due to exhaustion) and emotional day at ORI involving a delicious potlock lunch and too many goodbyes. The first night I made it to Billings where I stayed with a gentleman who lived in Kyrgyzstan and worked for the Alpine Fund!?!? How did I find someone in Billings who shares my interest in this little-known corner of the world and who has worked for the very organization that I plan on joining next year? Couchsurfing.com, that's how.

Check it out www.couchsurfing.com - Jess and I have been members for about half a year and have hosted three people on our couch in Missoula while they were traveling. The idea behind the site is so simple that it is brilliant. You register your name and location and build a profile in which you give as many details on yourself as you care to divulge. The next step is either hosting or surfing. If you plan on traveling to a city, say Missoula, you just do a “Couch Search” and all the members with available couches in that city pop up, then you can choose a few that sound interesting and send them a message asking to surf on their couch (or floor as the case may be). The potential host will receive the message in their email and then can read the potential surfer’s profile before giving a yes or no. The three people Jess and I hosted in Missoula were super nice and interesting and so far my own surfing experience has been very positive. In addition to the Kyrgyz traveler in Billings, I stayed in an apartment in Fargo, ND belonging to a couchsurfer. No, I did not stay “with” him because he wasn’t in town – he actually trusted me enough to leave a key for me to stay in his apartment while he was out of town. We have never met and have no mutual friends, we spoke on the phone a couple times and he went through the trouble of leaving me access to his apartment. Despite having to climb the outside wall of his apartment complex onto his balcony (which made me feel 50% James Bond and 50% burglar) I had a very relaxing night watching movies from his excellent video library and sleeping for 10 hours on his comfy couch.

Couchsurfing.com has begun to change my view of the internet and how it influences human interactions and social systems. Most people, myself included, have viewed the proliferation of the internet as supplanting social relationships. We picture people sitting at home on their computer instead of socializing with friends. Although there are many people who use computers and the internet as a wall to block out other people, a larger number of people are using the internet as a means to connect with people in ways never before possible. Facebook, Myspace, Couchsurfing, Blogs, Email, Instant Messaging and other internet features are actually creating and enhancing social connections. People’s social networks are no longer limited by the people in their immediate surroundings; it is now just as easy to communicate with someone on the other side of the world as it is with your next door neighbor. I find this exciting because people are more likely to communicate across cultural and national boundaries. People with similar and very specific interests can now communicate effortlessly regardless of their physical location. Technology has a long way to go, especially when you consider the “digital divide” - the fact that only the citizens of the richest countries have widespread internet access. But it appears as though it is only a matter of time before the developing world catches up – just as my friend Kyle Gifford, a returned Peace Corps Volunteer who just spent two years installing wireless internet in a Armenian village that has neither regular electricity or hot water.
On a more personal note, planning my journey would have been nearly impossible before the information age. Almost all of my research was conducted online using search engines and Google Earth (if you haven’t checked that out, don’t. It is extremely addictive – all of a sudden an entire afternoon can disappear after zooming in on obscure portions of the globe). I have put together a class reunion using Facebook and email. I arranged my farm stays using their websites and email. All of my plane tickets were booked online. I will keep in communication with everyone using this blog. I will keep tabs on my finances using online banking. So rather than the internet isolating people, it can be conducive to building social relationships and seeing more of the world.

So now that I’m done ranting about the internet, I’ll continue with my journey across the country. I had good stays in Billings and Fargo and then continued on to Sault Ste Marie, Ontario. I didn’t get to the Canadian border until midnight – I was exhausted and nervous because I have already had a bad experience crossing our northern border. I pulled up to the customs booth and the grumpy, overweight customs officer started firing questions at me; “where are you living?”, “how long will you stay in Canada?”, “Who’s car is this?”, and so on. The first question really threw me off because I’m not “living” anywhere right now. After stuttering and stammering for about half a minute I tried to explain that I am moved out of Montana but I am not moving into anywhere right away. I made the mistake of mentioning Bulgaria and organic farms, which really confused things. I knew it went badly when he went to get his supervisor and they told me to pull ahead to the canopy, which I know from experience as the place where they search your car from top to bottom. I had to get out of the car and they continued with their barrage of questions while they emptied the car – I mean tore it apart opening every box, baggie, and compartment they could think of. At this point I was extremely nervous, for no good reason because I was doing NOTHING wrong. After they emptied the fully packed car – which took about three hours to pack everything into – they gave me back my passport and said, “we’ll let you repack it, you’re probably better at it”. I asked if they were kidding, but as soon as I asked I realized that they had no sense of humor anyway, so they were obviously serious. Using all the sarcasm I could muster, I smiled and said, “Welcome to Canada!” Big mistake. The supervisor/captain/head honcho got in my face and told me that I was lucky they didn’t empty everything out onto the pavement and that I made the choice to leave my country when I crossed the bridge and when I did that I gave up my rights as a US citizen. I nixed the sarcasm and asked what I could do next time to avoid this from happening as I shoved things back into the car. They wouldn’t give me a straight answer, but I guess it was my sketchy answer to the “where do you live” question and the fact that my passport lists me as from Missouri, my driver’s license is from Montana, and Jess’ car is registered in Minnesota. The last time I entered Canada alone the same thing happened – apparently I’m not welcome up north. I just find it strange that of all the customs I have been through and all the borders I have crossed, I have had the most trouble getting into Canada. Weird.

I am now in one of the most dodgy hotels I have ever had the displeasure of sleeping in, but they do have a bar downstairs with free wireless. I spent the day recovering from three days in the car and tomorrow I am off to Temagami, Ontario to visit Jess’ ancestral home island – Wabun www.wabun.com .

Goodbye ORI!

2008-07-30T07:02:00.000-07:00

As my time in Missoula nears its end, I have become reflective about my time here and a little sentimental about the people who I will deeply miss. For the last year I have worked as the "Activities Supervisor" at Opportunity Resources Inc. (http://www.orimt.org/) , one of the largest non-profit organizations serving people with developmental disabilities in Montana.
I have truly enjoyed my time at ORI for two reasons; the innovative and progressive programs and the 100+ wonderful clients I get to work with everyday. Although there are many things about ORI that I would change if I could, overall the organization is doing very important and innovative things in Missoula. Our clients are viewed with their strengths and abilities in mind rather than their faults and deficiencies - everyone should be given the opportunity to succeed and contribute to their family and community. ORI employs people in a wide variety of settings; the ranch that raises sheep, chickens, and grows thousands of pumpkins, the wood shop, the document destruction (shredding) facility, downtown cleanup crew, the federal building cleanup crew, and more. Luckily productivity and work are not the only aspects of ORI's mission - my job involves getting people who are not working involved in community activities and events. I appreciate the focus on vocational habilitation at ORI, but I am glad that I am involved exclusively on the "fun" side of things because recreation and community integration are goals that are often overlooked for people with developmental disabilities.

One thing I have learned over the past few years while working with people with developmental disabilities is that the general public has severe anxiety about interacting with this population. I believe this is mainly due to inexperience - most people just don't know how to act and then become embarrassed. Should I treat them like a child? Like a peer? What if they won't leave me alone? There are no simple answers to these commonly thought (but seldom expressed) questions. My only answer would be to treat them as you would any other stranger - don't speak with a patronizing tone or "talk down" to them. Use simple vocabulary if necessary, but don't assume they can't communicate on your level. One of the most enjoyable aspects of my job has been to observe positive interactions between the public and my clients - it is a win-win for both parties.

Another source of anxiety for people is what terminology to use when discussing people with developmental disabilities. Fortunately, this is a simple problem to solve - use "people first" language. Always refer to the person then the disability. Notice that I say people with developmental disabilities rather than developmentally disabled person. The same is true with more specific disabilities such as Down's Syndrome or Autism. Putting the disability first conveys that it is their defining feature, but in reality it is one of hundreds of that individuals characteristics. Would you rather be called a "math challenged person" or a "person who is challenged by math"? It is also important to note that the terms "retarded", "mentally challenged" and "special" are no longer used because they have too many negative connotations. This isn't a political correctness issue, it has nothing to do with politics, it is a respect and dignity issue. Most important is to not let your anxieties and fears get in the way of interacting with truly extraordinary people because they have been labeled as a person with a disability.

So only two and a half days of ORI left - it will be missed. I look forward to using what I have learned to help people with disabilities in less developed nations live to their full potential.

The transition begins.

2008-07-20T18:26:00.000-07:00

So Jess left two days ago, my family left yesterday with my cat, and I've spent most of the day tearing up the apartment. Needless to say it has been an emotional Sunday. Thankfully my friend Cameron came over last night for the Montana Wild Game Meat Feast of 2008: many pounds of duck and deer kebabs. Today we had to hike Mt. Sentinal to work off the epic meal.

The act of throwing away or donating 90% of my "stuff" has been a difficult but rewarding experience. I realize I don't need most of what I've accumulated over the years, but each object has many memories and associations attached to it. For example - I know I don't need 6 T-Shirts (that don't even fit), from various summer camps, but I feel like throwing them away will further remove me from the memories of the camps. Slowly but surely I am making progress on the disassembly of the apartment. Once it is all over and I am on the road heading for Jess at Wabun, I will finally feel the freedom and reward that I am working towards. Until then, more packing, cleaning and packing some more.

Two more weeks of work, and I'm off to Ontario!

Wait for it . . . .

2008-06-26T20:23:00.000-07:00

So here goes my blogging debut.

Although I have yet to begin my travels (I'm sitting at work right now) I want to begin my blog to put all my plans in one spot in cyberspace. This way when my plans change (as they do daily) I can update everyone at once. I'm not yet sure who "everyone" is, but hopefully someone cares enough to check this on occasion.

Anyway, the itinerary is shaping up as follows:

July 31: Drive out of lovely Missoula, Montana for a Trans-Canadian roadtrip to Temagami, Ontario

August 5: Meet up with Jessica and stay at the world-renowned Wabun wilderness canoeing camp. www.wabun.com

August 11: Bum a ride to the Midwest and make my way home to Silex for some quality time with friends and family

August 24: Drive to New York with my Dad and Uncle Ken to do some serious fishing with my Uncle Steve.

September 2: The big day. I fly out of JFK airport in NYC to London and then Sofia, Bulgaria!!

September: Building strawbale houses at Hotnitsa www.hotnitsa.com. All I know is that I get free room and board and I'll be camping in the garden.

October: Travel to Istanbul, fly to Trabzon and then by train to Tibilisi, Georgia to volunteer at the Temi Community Farm and Vinyard. www.temi-community.org This is a one-of-a-kind place with cares for people with special needs in a farmhouse and manages a self-sufficient farm. It will be grape harvest time, so I'll be doing my three favorite things: 1) Traveling 2) Getting to know interesting people with special needs 3) drinking lots of wine.

November: Traveling through Eastern Turkey and Central Anatolia and eventually getting to the Aegean coast where I'll be working on a farm for two weeks harvesting olives and making olive oil.

December: Fly from Istanbul to Delhi, India. I'll then go by train to Jaipur, where I'll be working at Saharia Organic Farm and Resort www.sahariaorganicresort.com . Sometime before Christmas Jess will fly in from China to meet me.

January - April: Jess and I will take an epic train ride from Delhi to Chennai in the far south. We will then go to Auroville to work at Sadhana Forest, a project that aims to reforest 70 acres of eroded coast. Jess may leave in February to continue her job in China (www.wheretherebedragons.com) and I'll stay in India through April.

May: Travel back up to Delhi and then into Pakistan to begin the fabled Karakoram Highway which is one of the most scenic and dramatic roads in existence. I'll eventually end up in Kashgar, in the far West of China to meet Jess after her semester is over.

May/June: Jess and I head to Kyrgyzstan!!! We will hopefully arrive when the weather warms up and the city of Bishkek thaws. We will volunteer with the Alping Fund www.alpinefund.org and then try our hand at finding real jobs in the city, but I'm not going to worry about that yet . . .

It will be interesting to look back on this first post after my plans have changed a dozen times, but it feels good to have a framework that I can tweak as needed.