"Don't let the perfect become the enemy of the good."

Beloved --

The "celtic knot" above shows the bronze port light frames after some elbow grease and buffing. The weather cleared enough this afternoon to allow my helper Mark and me to get the new port lights installed--the old port light plexiglass was horribly craze from 20+ years of UV exposure. For the first time in way too many years it is now possible to look out from the cabin of the "Game Fish" and actually see something. Note the view through the cabin to the adjacent boat.

Launch date is scheduled for July 2nd and for the first time today I felt like I was making progress on putting things together rather than dismantling the boat. Following a technical discussion with my diesel mechanic--and given his report on the status of the engine--I think the "splash" date is a good one. He wants the boat to "settle in to her lines" for a few days before doing the final engine alignment--which is fine with me. Gives me a few days over the 4th of July weekend to get ready for a shake down sail. I'll keep you posted.

The next several days will be re-rigging the mast, re-routing the exhaust hose, and getting the yard smutch off the boat.

I'll be real happy when I can sleep aboard in the marina as opposed to the boatyard. For the past few weeks I've felt like I've been living out of my car.

I miss you and love you all,

Jim

Wabi sabi or skata tees eonees

Beloved --

Bringing a circa 1965 sloop back from neglect is a worthy effort. But then, what effort isn't "worthy?"

Today I got started on the port lights. They have been finished and refinished many times in the last thirty years; but now seems like the time to take them down to the original bronze and replace the crazed plexiglass. What the heck?!? We all could use a cleared view of the world and managed "eyebrows" for accents.

Wabi sabi is Japanese for "used lovingly and long over many years" (sort of like me!). The "Game Fish" can and will bounce back--once again to enjoy beam reaches and sandy beaches.

Regarding the "skata tees eonees." In the late '60s and early '70s, Peter Throckmorton and his infamous camp followers (of which I was one) maintained a VW van in Greece. The old van did yeoman's duty ferrying stuff back and forth to s/v "Stormie Seas" in support of our various expeditions on behalf of patrons like "National Geographic." The van ran visa renewal trips to Yugoslavia as required (for those among us without Greek "green cards").

We had a mechanic in Pireaus who somehow kept the old van alive. One time, Joan (Peter's wife) asked Giorgo how the van kept going and especially what held it together. He responded in Greek (roughly transliterated) that it was "ta skata tees eonees." Let me translate that for you--"the shit of the ages."

My balancing act with the "Game Fish" is to focus on the 'wabi sabi' and thank the 'skata tees eonees' for giving me another chance.

I love you and miss you all,

Jim

Kind of a "Stay Vacation"

Beloved --

As personally enlightening as my adventure to S/SE Asia was earlier this year, there are are other realities to be considered (says Peter Pan). I'm working to get the "Game Fish" launched on July 2nd. She has spent too many years alone at the dock. . . .time to change all that.

I've been asked where her name comes from. It's from an e.e.cummings poem titled "Poem or"

Besides being a condensate of my "philosophy of life," the poem contains the line that "Only the game fish swims upstream." Aside from the difference in capitalization, I swiped the name unabashedly with the intent of living my life according to cummings' manifesto.

Wish me luck.

I love you and miss you all.

ps. Remember: "unbeing dead, isn't being alive"

Re-entry reflexions

Beloved --

Now that I've been back in the States for a month (and paid my taxes on time, for once), I'm having a little time to reflect. Several friends have asked me "What was your favorite part of the trip?" I am flummoxed. It feels like being asked "What is your favorite Christmas tree ornament?" or "What is your favorite star?"
It's a "launching" question. I hope I can give satisfactory answers. But, in truth, right now I don't know.
There was all the cross-cultural art and religious symbolism that I didn't expect. . . .take the Shiva/Buddha above dressed in seasonal garb at Angkor Wat. Or the Churning Sea mythology and work done by the Indian Archeological Society to recover the Khmer temple. Or the ubiquitous signage that confused me when I reflected on how it got translated the way it did. Or the fact that I went nose to nose with a millennium old Khmer king's stone image in an effort to grasp the meaning of it all!
I'm trying to put together such puzzles as the Hindu idea that heaven is a temporary state which is the place of punishment for good deeds! And the Buddhist credo that only two things are needed to find enlightenment--concentration and compassion!

So I respond by writing poetry: Morning Poem
If you listen (carefully)
the first thing you hear each morning
is the song of a single bird--
A song that always starts solo--
sometimes answered by a choir
sometimes by one echoing lover
Seeking with aural torches and
sonorous detonations to
illuminate and identify his once and future mate.
Sleep outside (or with your window open)
to be invited into each new day.
Before you hear the breathing of the one next to you,
Before you hear your own heart beating
if you listen carefully
the first thing you will hear each morning
Is the smile (and wink) of God.

I love you and miss you all,

Jim

Reflections of the lone "Tomb Raider"

Beloved --
Somewhere in the past several months I saw and copied down the following: "Whenever he was en route from one place to another, he was able to look at hs life with a little more objectivity than usual. It was often on trips that he thought most clearly, and made the decisions he could not reach when he was stationary." -- Paul Bowles, "The Shattering Sky"
I've spent the last week, after returning from Ooty, reflecting on this "walkabout." So far I've written down 51 "Lessons Learned" and I expect to come up with a few more on the two 9+ hour legs of flying back to Seattle beginning in about 12 hours. I won't torture you with all of them. Here are a few:
1) I am currently healthy enough to enjoy roughing it.
6) I can travel lightly
7) I enjoy my own company and am never bored
20) I have a good story to tell my fellow travellers (think "Canterbury Tales")
24) I'd rather be a traveller than a tourist
32) I have enjoyed balancing experience with reflection during this trip
45) At any given moment, I'm content to be where I am
49-50) I am saddened by grinding poverty and amazed at how little removed we are from a primitive/animal-like existence.
I will now have the opportunity to do some "post-journalling/post-blogging" and I hope you will tolerate and participate in my reflections I've loved all your comments. Thank you.
Anyone up for a beer?
I love you and miss you all,
Jim

Indian Train to "Snooty Ooty"

Beloved --

After the overnight "sleeper" from Chennai to Mettupalayam, Anna and I arrived in time (in the dark) to queue up to get in line to get on the standby list to be waitlisted, etc., etc., for the steam train gog railway up to the Nilgiri hill station of Oooty. We got on to a very overcrowded coach and spent the next 5 1/2 hours getting a "free massage" as the tired old engine hissed and clawed its way up to almost the 6,000 foot level. In each tunnel we traversed, I had visions of Dante's Hell as the steam, smoke, and noise filled the space inside and outside the coach. It's a trip I'm happy to have done (note the past tense). The monkeys at the half-way station were thievin' rascals. We watched them grab snacks and tea from travellers who mistakenly put them down for a second.

By 1:30 on Sunday the 9th, we got ourselves booked into a nice guest house--called Reflections--with a view out over the lake (actually a reservoir built by the Brits). Starving, we headed for a 'western style" restaurant and downed a pizza and salad each. Then back to the guest house for a rest. Anna zizzed out for a couple of hours, but I managed to squeeze in a little explore, this time around the artificial lake.

The young men who rented paddle boats at the west end of the lake were like young men everywhere. They made sport of ramming each other in the middle of the lake. . . .no sign of life-jackets or a rescue boat. I was hoping that they know how to swim. What a joy it must be to feel so invincible. (I have retained some of that feeling on this trip, although I have learned to recognize an unstable path, a bridge near collapse, an unsafe bicycle, and the beginnings of my own mistakes and mis-steps in the heat of the day when I haven't hydrated well enough. I also recognize how important it is to "rest-up" every few days and not make this walkabout into a marathon!)

In the evening we took an autorickshaw up to the highest point in town for an excellent Chinese meal at Shinkow. We finished at 8:30 or so and it was cold outside. The "auto" ride back to the guest house left us both shivering, despite sweaters and socks. Anna said it was the first time she had worn socks in three months. Our "auto" driver was wisely wearing a heavy sweater, but I still didn't envy him his night's work.

Before heading back to Chennai on this too short side trip--Ooty is a good place to launch into treks into the surrounding hill country--we visited St. Stephen's (Anglican) church. Both of us noted how similar it is to St. Mary's in Swanage (U.K.) where Anna was christened. The gravestones we could read dated back to the early 18th century. We spent some time speculating that some of these members of the Raj probably knew Anna's ancestors who were living in this tea growing area, before moving on to Sri Lanka.

I really liked one of the stained glass windows which dated from 1864. A very non-representational geometric pattern that could have been modern or Muslim.

We also visited the Botanical Garden--along with Indians from all over the country and members of the Indian diaspora from the States. Beautiful collection of smaller gardens.

We bussed back to Mettupalayam and caught the sleeper back to Chennai, disembarking in Perambur at 4:45am and making a dash for Anna's flat, where we slept until 11:00am.

I love you and miss you all,

Jim

Wednesday in Anjuna

Beloved --
Having been warned off the early morning visit to the Wednesday flea market in Anjuna ("the prices are too high in the morning. Wait until they're packing up," said the concierge), I walk several kms north to the hippie enclaves of Vagator and Chapora.
A red dusty road winding north past the local school, several Israeli guest houses and a few "hotels" with signage in Russian. (I always knew that my three years of college 'ruskii yazik' would come in handy, but I never thought I would be deciphering "ayurveda" and "massage" from Cyrilic.
The twin villages ar a pleasant down-shift from Anjuna--no hustling taxis, which BTW are motorcycles here, or shops full of trinkets and "OM" logo fabrics.
Overlooking the two towns is an abandoned Portugese fort dating back to 1517 or so. I climb up to the hilltop from the Vagator (SW) side and soak up the view. The decent down the east side is more treacherous. I do take a stumble which later requires a trip to the pharmacy for hydrogen peroxide and mercurechrome. I have now had my three requisite "Well, I almost died" stories from this trip to SW/SE Asia.
I miss you and love you all,
Jim

Anjuna, Vagator and Chapora

Beloved --

Okay. I know how to beat this heat game. I get up at 5:30am, shower and pack. I down a canned Nescafe Latte that I bought last night. I hit the bus stand before 8:00am and catch the local bus (7 rupees) to Mapusa. All goes well until the transfer to Anjuna Beach. The bus is sardines all the way, with school kids and resort workers (I guess) heading west to the Arabian Sea. I feel guilty for my backpack, but I can't move it out of anyone's way. I'm anxious, but no one seems annoyed. The bus empties as we reach Anjuna town. I hop off at the first place I recognize from the "Lonely Planet" guide book and book a room at the Villa Anjuna about 200 meters from the beach. I have a delicious breakfast of yoghurt, muesli, honey and hot chocolate. By 9:30am I figure I've beat the odds, but it's starting to get hot. I take a guiltless nap, figuring I've done a good day's work just getting here.

After waking up around noon, I head for the beach. I'm dripping sweat after 20 meters and in a daze from the airless heat. That's probably why I'm vulnerable to one of the slicker con artists I've met on this trip.

He walks up to me at the end of my climb up from the beach. He starts talking about my right ear. Thinking he was being helpful and knowing that I typically have gobs of SPF 40 in my ear lobes, I start to rub it off, thanking him. Before I could say "What the hell?!?" he's going at my ear with a couple of ivory colored probes. He's pulling out enough "ear wax" to make a votive candle. In the middle of the wax there is a "stone." (I know that none of the wax or stones are mine, having just showered and thouroughly Q-tipped myself.) He then produces his credentials--a card in rough English. He is a "Certified Ear Stone Remover!" Further, according to his card, he expects payment of 250 rupees for each "ear stone" he removes. Before I can think twice he as four--count 'em--four earstones for a total "treatment" cost of 1,000 rupees (that's $20 at today's exchange rate). I give him 100 rupees for his magic, but he is unhappy and stalks me for about an hour. He finally disappears when I pull out my cell phone and start "dialing the tourist police." A lucky ploy. It's worth carrying a dummy cell phone for!

(Picture above is Anjuna Beach with a sun-bathing bovine.)

I love you and miss you all,

Jim

Goa (Panjim and Anjuna)

Beloved --
It's hot! Even the grandfatherly proprietor of the Park Lane Guest House in Panjim admits that the hot weather has arrived at least two weeks early this year.
To beat the heat, I hop the early morning--8:30am--bus to Old Goa. Cost 7 ruppees. I could see living in Old Goa. Clean, tree-lined lanes and more cathedrals per sq. km. than Chiang Mai has Wats. At one point in history, Old Goa rivaled Lisbon for its grandeur.
But by noon it's too damn hot again. I linger over lunch in an elevated, shady but airless open restaurant. I watch the late awakening tour groups pour out of their AC busses. And wish them the best of luck for the heat.

I catch the 1:00pm bus back to Panjim and stagger, sweating to my guest house. I drink a liter of water, turn the AC to full on and let the cool air wash away my sweat. I sleep 'til five.

By six it is a bit cooler. . .at least the sun's angle doesn't sear any more. But it is still unpleasantly hot. I go for an explore in this smallest and tidiest of Indian State capitals. There are fewer sidewalk hustlers here. Panjim seems to stand on its own w/o tourists.

By 7:30pm I'm explored out and head for the Hotel Venite--one of the very few places to get a drink in this conservative part of India. I order a Kingfisher "Strong" and a shot of feni (cashew moonshine) and squeeze myself into one of the half-dozen tiny balconies overlooking the street scene. A sweaty hour passes--even the backs of my hands are covered with drops and I seem to be exuding every bit of DEET that I've used in the past couple of months--and then back to the AC. I hit the bed by 9:00pm and suck up the cool.

At 1:30am I'm awake, too hot, and puzzling about the past three months. What's changed? What have I learned? beyond the "You can't run away from yourself!" and that each day is a "Get up! Stand up! Dust yourself off and start all over again!" (These are what I call the eternal reggae verities.)
(Picture above is at the Viceroy's Gate in Old Goa. It was built by Vasco de Gama's grandson.)
I miss you and love you all,
Jim

Curious Laotian menu items

Beloved --
Besides #7 above, we had bamboo worms, whole frog, water buffalo skin, sticky rice cooked in bamboo, fish amok and others that I'm having a hard time remembering. Hmmmmm?
I love you and miss you all,
Jim

Highlights from Lao/Cambodia trip

Beloved --
Hello from Chennai, India (again):

A few images from the time in Thailand, Lao and Cambodia. The crucified Ronald McDonald was on several lamposts in Chiang Mai. The moonrise and sunrise shots are across the Mekong from Thailand into Lao (near the Golden Triangle). The family picture is our Laotian guide--Somchit--and his auntie. And the parade of monks was during their early morning rounds in Luang Prabang.

I was invited into a drop in game of petanque in Luang Namtha with some of the locals and thanks to too much time playing bolle at home. But I did our side proud! And enjoyed the lao lao (rice moonshine).

We had a great hike in the Nam Ha Conservation Area of Lao, the highlight of which was a picnic on the ridgeline with banana leaf plates and freshly cut bamboo chopsticks. The meal featured sticky rice and something like babaganoush! We encountered Black Tai, Lanten, & Khmu tribespeople during the hike.

Luang Prabang (a UNESCO World Heritage site) is home to 4,000+ monks some of whom you see above on the early morning alms & food collection rounds. We each bought 4 kilos of oranges to distribute one-by-one to the monks in the early morning light.

Kayaking on the Nam Song river near Veng Vieng is more like a S. Florida Spring Break party with beer swilling European youth and blaring Bob Marely--very unexpected in this karsk rich part of Lao.

We had a short stay in Vientiane where the mighty Mekong appeared more like an un-navigable stream looking across the flats towards Thailand.

Phnom Penh: The Killing Fields, the S.21 prison, and a real roadside fight and probable murder that we all witnessed from the bus made it hard to sleep that night. There seems to be an underlayment of violence in this part of Cambodia.

Siem Reap/Angkor Wat (more pictures to follow, I promise): Sunrise visit for my 1st view of the temple complex. 5:30am tuk-tuk ride. Angkor Wat was built in the early 1100s. It was first Hindu and then Buddhist (like the ancient Khmer kingdom) and is considered the largest religious building in the world, having been photographed from space by early NASA astronauts.

We finished this tour with a trip to Tonle Sap, the largest freshwater body in SE Asia and a highly productive fishery--smelled like it, too. The floating villages of Tonle Sap are 30% Vietnamese and 70% Cambodia.

More details and pictures later. . . .

I love you and miss you all,

Jim

A hectic week in Chiang Mai

Beloved --
On the suggestion of one of my fellow travelers in northern Thailand, I hurriedly booked another travel adventure through REI for two weeks in Laos and Cambodia.
That we were able to get the forms filled out and .pdf-ed back in a timely fashion is due to some very sharp Thai teenagers in a little internet cafe in Chiang Mai. They rallied behind my "cause" and stuck with it until everything--nine pages of signed documents--was "receipt acknowledged" at headquarters.
I did have time to explore more of Chiang Mai while waiting for the Lao/Cambodia trip to start. I moved to a Thai guest house to save a few bucks and spent time with some Theravada Buddhist monks who have daily "monk chats" to work on their (mostly) English language skills and explain Buddhism and Thai culture to anyone who spends time with them. Lots of people seem to be afraid to engage them, but I found them quite pleasant and informative. And the chat wasn't all "Where do you live?" Why did you become a monk?" "Why don't monks eat dinner?"
I asked them a lot about their practice of meditation--right meditation being part of the Eightfold Path. Their was much agreement that it was hard to eliminate "monkey mind" and come to a place off quietude and inner resources. The monks practice twice a day for an hour and a half each time. Their suggestion to us "farang" was not to imitate any uncomfortable physical position like the cross-legged posture--"You Europeans (sic) didn't grow up doing that." Rather find a place that is comfortable, so that the monkey mind doesn't grab onto fighting pain--"There is enough else to do," the monk assured me.
I'll get the Lao/Cambodia experience caught up soon. Both of those countries were beautiful, hot, and with troubled recent histories. But both are people by some charming characters.
I love you and miss you,
Jim

More choices

Beloved --
On Sunday February 1st, we were again given a choice of activities--either a very challenging bike ride or a Thai cooking class. We all--Lonny, Angela, Rene, J.J., and I--opted to help prepare lunch. . . .Thai green currey, spring rolls, phad see ieu, featured prominently. There was also a special dessert prepared by Aan (our assistant guide) consisting of coconut cream and bananas. We all had a good time chopping and stir frying. The results were tasty if not perfectly presented.
After lunch we hoped into our mini-van (sadly) for the ride back to Chiang Mai. We stopped at a silk factory and the "World's Largest Jewelry Store" on the way. Silk spinning and weaving, silver and gold smiths and gem cutters, all working very hard and openly for the public. Needless to say, both the silk factory and jewelry mart had shops associated with them. In both cases there were beautiful finished goods and only moderate sales hype. Quite a contrast to the simple hill-tribe crafts and people.
Our last meal together was at a riverfront restaurant that is famous and popular with both Thais and "farang." Again the food was wonderful and the company delightful. Mr. Pan played host and our cycling master and driver, Som, also joined us.
After dinner we made a quick visit to the Night Market where we bargained hard for some last minute souveniers just for the fun and camaraderie. I now have a cloth shoulder bag and leather bracelet. Lonny has a Dr. Seuss hat that he promises to wear at least once "back home." (Watch out, Denver!)
On Monday morning my trekking buddies left early for the sand and sun of Phuket. I opted to stay in Chiang Mai and put together a plan for the rest of my time in SE Asia. My ticket back to India is on February 24th, so I have a little, but certainly not enough time to even begin exploring.
I love you and miss you all,
Jim

A day made for cycling

Beloved --
Saturday January 31st was meant for cycling--fresh and cool. We headed off through villages and farms, some rice and surprisingly some corn. We ended up for lunch at a country outdoor picnic/dining spot that seemed to be a favorite of the local police and other government officials. They arrived in their sparkling clean pickups and are warmly and jovially greeted by the staff.
After lunch--I would have enjoyed a nap, we seem always to hike, kayak, or cycle in the heat of the day--I hydrate and press on. After an hour or so of cycling, we are given a choice. It's either an easy road to our next guest house or a more challenging route--a "technical" trail for about 10kms, very rutted and impassible in the rainy season. The technical trail, you guessed, was the route I picked, along with one other cyclist and our Thai mountain biking master, Som. It was a challenge, but we all survived.
After calming down and cooling off from the technical descent, we visited a betel nut chewing village about a kilometer beyond our encampment. These villagers were hard bargainers, but offered some good deals on their geegaws, especially goofy hats and wall hangings, if one should want either of those.
One particularly attractive women followed me through the village shouting, "Buy me, buy me!" which I'm sure was messed up in the translation and not what she meant at all. It was an idea worth considering (he jokes) until she exposed her blood-red, betel nut juice stained teeth. Our guides said that the villagers found the color attractive.
The guest house/facility is used by different trekking/hiking/scouting/student retreat groups. On this particular Saturday night several groups, including ours, gathered round a campfire for a full-tilt, chaotic, multi-lingual hootenany. The campfire was still smouldering at dawn, when I got up to greet the dawn (and survey the remnants). There had also been a wedding party in the village that night, so no one for kilometers around, got a sound sleep for all the singing and village fireworks. What a hoot!
I love you and miss you all,
Jim

The ride back

Beloved --
A nice ride through villages and rice paddies back to the resort and the chilly pool after our visit to the coffin maker. We enjoyed yet another spectacular Thai dinner with our head guide, Mr. Pan, joining us this time.
It was not always Mr. Pan's habit to eat with us. In the hill-tribe villages he ate with the host families and assistant guides. I can quite understand his eating separately from us--it's hard work to enjoy yourself in table conversation in something other than your native language. Pan is a great guy and does his best--and the conversation becomes more animated after a couple of Singha beers.
I should mention that REI Adventure tours does its best not to exploit the usual tourist attractions and environmentally damaging trekking practices. We did not go to Karen villages where the women's necks were stretched over their lifetimes. That is a much touted "cultural/eco-tour" in the store fronts in Chiang Mai. The elephant sancturary we visited--despite a pretty kitchy show--works to rehabilitate/care for elephants that have been used to clear land mines in Laos. Our hiking was all in national parks and forest preserves. The money for the homestays in the hill-tribe villages goes to the villagers and are intentionally not tourist traps. (After a few days now in Chiang Mia seeing what is being flogged to the tourists as trekking adventures, I'm very happy with the REI Thailand Multisport trip. By way of full disclosure, I do not work for REI or any of its affiliates. I do have a very low--read 5 digit--membership number, which used to get me a free beer amongst the Northwest expat community in Greece whenever we would play "low coop number poker." Wonder if that still works?)
I love you and miss you all,
Jim

Biking and kayaking for a change

Beloved --
After lunch on the 29th, we drove for about 45 minutes to a pretty plush resort to recover after several nights of "roughing it." (The rooms actually had flushing western style toilets!) Spent the afternoon relaxing by the pool and chatting with my companions about our time with the "hill-tribes."
On Friday morning (1/30) we rode our mountain bikes through villages and by rice paddies along an irrigation ditch to a man-made lake--part of the flood control program protecting Chiang Mai and nearby villages. A one-hour paddle up lake to a floating restaurant. This getaway would be a great place to spend more time. There are guest rooms associated with the restaurant and the water was inviting, despite the algae bloom. The scenery looked like the San Juans with the waterfront trees in full color--for lack of rain we were told.
After a leisurely lunch (will I ever tire of Thai food?), we paddled back down lake to our bikes for the ride back to the resort. Along the way we stopped at the shop/factory of a "coffin maker." He provides elaborately decorated, colorful, and huge structures--with full scale elephants and crocodile motifs--which are paraded through the streets as part of funeral processions and then burned along with the deceased. The ashes are then encrypted in the stupa of choice. The current work was especially oppulent since it was to be used for the funeral of a much beloved and famous monk.
I miss you all and love you,
Jim

Thailand trek (continued)

Beloved --
This second hill-tribe village has electricity and road access to the towns north of Chiang Mai. As a consequence the village is loosing its young people. . .only about 120 villagers remain.
I got up early to watch the sunrise and was accompanied to the village gate by a very friendly dog. A young monk walked into the village about half an hour after sunrise and "set up shop" in the small building that serves as the town center. Several families brought offerings of food to the monk and received his blessing for their kindness. One of those offering food prepared by her family was a small girl of 4 or 5. She had difficulty negotiating the steps up to the monk while balancing here family's offering. The monk and the little girl beamed smiles at each other.
After receiving the offerings from the villagers, the monk departed with his bounty in a very neat looking saffron colored stash pot. I was told by our guide--Mr. Pan--that he and his fellow monks will have nothing more to eat save what the villagers provide on a daily basis. It must be enough. (Like the orthodox priests I remember from my ex-pat years in Greece, I have yet to see a skinny monk here in Thailand.)
Our third day of hiking (January 29th) involved a steep 3 hour descent. In order to preserve my knees for the upcoming days of mountain biking, I opted to ride down through the beautiful countryside with our baggage in our four-wheel drive support truck. Wise decision, I was told by my fellow trekkers who hiked down. . . .all of whom are good companions, fun to be with, and half my age (whine, whine!) :>} I had forgotten the luxury of being with friends who share a common language. What a treat after my time in India, except for my time with Anna.
I love you and miss you all,
Jim

Thailand Trek

Beloved --
The first sound in the Karen village--after the dogs and roosters--was the steady thumping of a human powered rice mill. The rice is placed in a hollowed out wooden round (a little bigger than we would have when splitting firewood) and a see-saw with another piece of wood is repeatedly pumped up and down by the operator. The woman we met doing this was at it for over and hour, stopping periodically to empty out the wooden "mortar" into a winnowing basket. For all her hard work, she wound up with about 10 pounds of useable grain. We saw several of these machines throughout the village and some of my companions helped pump the see-saw for a bit, discovering that it was hard work. (They also helped unload a pickup filled with firewood.) Coffee, we were told by our guide, has recently been introduced as the cash crop in this mountainous area--replacing opium.
The young boys in the village played a curious game with wooden tops about the size of baseballs. The objective seemed to be to knock the spinning top of the previous player as far into the woods as possible with your own top and then giggle. (But then again, try to explain baseball.)
We departed the Karen village around 9:00am for what would be our longest day of hiking. The highest pass was around six thousand feet with vistas across the tea and coffee plantations towards Chaing Mai city. To the west were the mountain passes leading to Myanmar and to the northeast Laos and peek-a-boo sightings of the mountains of southern China. We encountered several Hmong tribal members heading up trail toward their villages. We finally arrived at our second hill-tribe village at dusk on January 28th.
I love you and miss you all,
Jim

Chiang Mai Sunday (and beyond)

Beloved --
Early Sunday morning runners. . .the main street is blocked off and the runners went by for at least an hour. The breakfast buffet here at the Amari Rincome Hotel is outa this world--Thai, Japanese, Chinese, and if you must American. (To answer Mr. James T.'s question, the food here is wonderful and it just keeps coming.)
The REI group made a trip up the mountain west of Chiang Mai to visit the Wat Phra That Doi Suthep temple--it's the place where legend has it a white elephant was left to wander with a pagoda on it's back and expired high up the mountain. The temple and the view are worth the trip--both the elephant's and mine!
Our group made a visit to the Sunday market in the old city, the market having been established as a weekly show place for local arts and crafts. Lots of cool stuff and not near as much a hastle as the daily night market just east of the old city.
On Monday we started up the foothills of the Himalayan mountains after stopping for a couple of hours at an elephant compound--mahouts, trained elephants and an hour's ride through the compound. These are the elephants that are famous for their "art work." It actually was cool watching them paint some pretty realistic representational original(?) artwork. I think they were having fun.
About an hour into our climb I noticed several Thais following us with some very long rifles slung over their shoulders. A bit alarming at first, but we stopped and chatted with them. They were hunters, using black powder and going for the wild boar that inhabit these hills--also civet cat, porcupine, and squirrel. They were a jolly nice bunch, but didn't have anything to show for their efforts.
The first village we spent the night was Karen--think the National Geo picture of the lady with the stretched neck with the gold necklaces. There was no electricity in the village. The government had installed solar panels for each home, but the panels were so covered with dust that the efficiency must have been down by 50%--enough to keep the few florescent lights going until about 8:00pm.
The mini-bar at the guest house was a tub with cool river water and some Chang beers and cokes. Quite hospitable, I thought. After a long hike the beer tasted good, even if it wasn't ice cold. The little things, you know.
It dropped down into the lower 40's overnight and I was happy for my sleeping bag liner and the extra blankets provided by our Karen hostess--"grandma." Lights out everywhere in the village by 8:00pm and then the roosters and dogs started in at about 4:00am. We were at 4,500 ft. And I love it, despite the smoke of the in-house wood fires and the squatter/bomber toilets.
I miss you all and love you,
Jim

Thailand--first impressions

Beloved --
Three hours on Air India across the Bay of Bengal and Andaman Sea to Thailand. As we start our descent over Myanmar, I'm taken by how beautiful the former Burma appears. From 30,000 feet I guess the details are washed out, huh? Coming into Bangkok everything looks so orderly--patches of neighborhoods of look alike houses with red tiled roofs and white walls. So tidy and organized after Chennai!
The Bangkok airport is wonderfully new and well run. I pass through customs and immigration in a snap. Helpful people everywhere! I'm greeted by a beautiful young Thai women holding up a sign with my name--she's the transfer driver to the Thai House (see their website!) in a new Camray with a/c. I don't hear one horn during the 45 minute drive to the guest house.
The proprietress of the Thai House is named "Pip." She has three daughters, the youngest of whom is Pang who serves as hostess for her mom. Pang works in Bangkok--22 km to the SE of the Thai House--helping ex-pats relocate to Thailand. She helps me with bus routes into the city which cost 15 baht each way as opposed to a way more expensive and less interesting taxi ride.
I spent Wednesday afternoon (January 21st) on a boat trip through the local canal system--the major transportation network here, like Venice. Temples everywhere, homes along the canals with red mail boxes nailed to pilings in the water, boats carrying propane tanks, boats carrying entire 7-Eleven speedy mart contents, boats with mailmen, boats with students, boats with workers returning from Bangkok.
Bangkok is busy, but less chaotic than Chennai. Tuk-tuk drivers are less agressive, shop keepers are not so much in your face. I walk the Royal Palace grounds with overwhelmed tourists from Russia, France, Sweden, etc. What a tour! The Emerald Buddha, a scale model of Angkor Wat, saffron robed monks, chanting visiting Buddhists from Japan and Korea. Best 35o baht I've spent so far.
Then on to the temple of the Reclining Buddha. The statue itself must be 40 meters long. The faithful buy pots of 1 baht coins to drop into pots as they walk around the Buddha. The sound of the coins dropping into the pots is like a flock of merry birds.
I walk along the riverfront market to catch the #516 bus back to the Thai House and another wonderful home cooked meal.
Tired and happy (and well fed) I drop of to sleep surrounded by teak and satin.
I love you and miss you all,
Jim

Chennai reflections

Beloved --
I have exhausted Chennai (for now) and have become exhausted by the city. . . .the noise, the pollution, the poverty, the language difficulties, the autorickshaw drivers, etc., etc. I'm leaving for Thailand tomorrow and hope to find a little tranquility in the hill country around Chiang Mai.
Before leaving, Anna and I have toured all the Chennai cultural sites mentioned in the "Lonely Planet" guide to S. India. I'm sure there are many more that we haven't come across.

What has impressed me besides all the ancient bronze sculpture and rock carving, some dating to the 4th century B.C.E, is the production of modern art work. We've seen some delightful oil paintings, watercolors, and tempura works. Some very pastoral and/or impressionistic. Quite a contrast from the elaborate ornamentation of the temple art and its derivatives.

And the quantity and quality of the cotton and silk fabrics here exceeds all expectations.

Of course the Bollywood MTV numbers that appear on every TV in every restaurant I've visited are hard to follow. Huge "production numbers" with elaborate costumes and every camera trick in the book are what prevails. The theme always seems to be boy meets girl, girl rebuffs boy, boy rises to the challenge, girl changes her mind but has to convince her parents, they run away in a very fast car/motorcycle chase. The music is quite lively and the dancing a wild combination of 1930s Hollywood, classical Indian, and rap. My mind is spinning.

The 'Hindu Times' reported that the day I went to Marina Beach (Jan 16th) to witness the Pongal festivities was the day that the largest crowds ever attended the outing. Security was tight. The paper reported over 5,000 security personnel in attendance half of them in plain clothes. There were uniformed police--both men and women--positioned every 10 meters or so along the main walkway. When I found a bit of shade to sit, have a drink of water, and empty the sand out of my Keens, I drew a small crowd of curious kids, all dressed in their holiday best. A police officer walked over to where I was sitting and kept the crowd from getting too close. I was a big draw, I guess. . . .a westerner sitting in the shade, drinking bottled water with his sandals off. The officer was very gentle with the kids, but very protective of "my space. "

After about 10 minutes, refreshed and cooled off (it was in the mid-90s by this time), I got up and moved on after giving the officer a heartfelt "Nandri"("Thank you"). He responded with the biggest smile I'd seen all day. A little Tamil goes a long way. Aside from the "auto" (tuk-tuk) drivers, everyone I've met in Chennai is very friendly, very helpful, and always smiling back at me.

During my four hour walk I don't remember seeing another westerner. . . .a real stranger in a strange, but hospitable, land.

And now to pack for Thailand and beyond.

I love you and miss you all,

Jim

Compassion and detachment

Beloved --
I woke up early on the 12th wrestling with the ideas of compassion and detachment. (One needs a lot of both to be long in India.) So I asked myself "did I accomplish compassion and detachment with my Habitat for Humanity trips to the Gulf Coast? Will Anna accomplish those two as a volunteer at Little Lambs?" Then I realized that throwing in the word 'accomplish' negates both compassion and detachment. If I analyze my actions, I have undone detachment and contradicted compassion. It's not compassionate if you label it compassionate, because your ego is suddenly there. You are not detached if you think about what you are doing even for one second. Jesus said, "Don't let your right hand know what your left hand is doing."
Compassion and detachment don't appear to be States of Being, but rather Paths to Follow. . . .joyfully taking each new step.
So here's a typical challenge: A lot of the kids here have learned--and learned very young--a good scam. "Two rupees, sir, for a 'school pen.'" From what I've been told by both teachers and school administrator's, pens are provided! How to respond?
Change of topic--
The three day harvest festival of Pongal is currently underway. Today, Thursday, is the day that the cattle are decorated as part of the celebration. Anna and I are going out for a city tour and hope to get some good pictures to share.

I love you and miss you all,

Jim

"Mahabs" (as the ex-pats call it)

Beloved --
Full moon over the Bay of Bengal on January 10th, on-shore breeze, lots of tourists, but the shop-keepers here don't seem too assertive. This seems a good place to buy some of the remaining items I need for Thailand--silk sleeping bag liner (originally a hammock), Odimos (bug juice), white cotton head scarf (invaluable for the dust and boiling sun).
The fishing boats here are painted with two or three broad bands of colors. The middle band, typically white, has "adverts" for Jesus or Ganesh or perhaps a hotel in the vicinity. (I subsequently found out that these are in gratitude for the people and organizations that materially helped the fishermen get back to work after the Boxing Day tsunami). The Sea Shore Restaurant--where I'm enjoying my daily Kingfisher Strong--has before and after pictures of the T-SUNAMI (sic). It looks to me as if it has been rebuilt to its former glory.
The touristy areas were the first to rebuild after the tsunami. The relief offices have closed shop; but the people in the outlying communities are still suffering terribly. As an example, a lot of the poor work in salt flats near the coast. Their resource (salt) was all washed away by the waves. It will take several more years to re-establish the salt works. In the mean time, they are barely scratching out a living.
I have met with the president of the local school council (Kumar) and his friend (Samsu) who are trying to continue the work begun by the NGOs immediately after the tsunami. It is much harder for them now, since what they are trying to do is less visible to the outside world. On my next visit to Mahabs, I'm going to tour the villages with Samsu to get some pictures. "In the hopes that people will continue to help," says Samsu. (Anyone wanting to volunteer is invited and will be put up for the length of your stay. I'll post e-mail contact information soon.)
I happened to be in Mamallapuram during the month long "Festival of the Dance 2008-2009" and took in two evening performances. The venue was spectacular (if small) with the backdrop of the bas relief "Penance of Arjuna" carvings and the ubiquitous goats climbing all over the rocks. (Anyone know enough geology to explain how all this granite got here?)
On Sunday the 11th I rented a bike for the day(IR 50 or about $1.00 for the day). The bike was a lot like the one I had on my paper route oh so many years ago in Chicago and was probably just as old. Rode the 15kms (one-way) to the Vedagirishvara Temple (Shiva) in Tirukkalikundram. There are over 550 steps to the top of the hill where the temple is located and is a famous pilgrimage site. It is famous for the myth/fact that two eagles (some guide books say kites) appear at the temple each day at noon to be fed by the priests. I must have missed them! It was a long hot bike ride. After a chicken biriyani and a beer, I was ready for a nap.
I love you and miss you all,
Jim

Little Lambs School (and moving day)

Beloved --
Spending the day with Anna at the school for under-priviledged kids was a highlight of my time in Chennai. Anna glows with the students and they all appear to love their "Anna Auntie." They also get a laugh, because Anna means "elephant" in Tamil. She hopes to extend her time at Little Lambs until the end of term (April, I believe). She seems to have found her calling, at least for the time being.

We also moved Anna from the place where she had a 2 hour commute to school to an apartment only 20 minutes away which is shared by the volunteers from Little Lambs. She is happy with her new digs and excited for the opportunity to do some cooking for herself.

[BTW: The beer ("Kingfisher Strong"), snacks, and bar food at the Beverly Hotel, Chennai, which is kind of my home base here, are worth the hastles of the traffic. Cold beer, soy nuts, savory snacks, and Chicken 65. This is the life!]

This weekend I will be visiting Mamallapuram (about 65 kilometers south of Chennai). Ancient temples, a beach, and way less traffic noise. It is so constantly loud in Chennai that I haven't been able to hear my own tinitus since I've been here!

I miss you and love you all,
Jim

Kumily, Kerala, India (and Periyar Wildlife Sancturary)

Beloved --
On New Year's Day Anna and I flew to Madurai where we toured the city on January 2nd. After lunch we caught a taxi for the 4 hour ride to Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary in the state of Kerala. It is described in the "Lonely Planet" as an Indian Disneyland. The difference here is that the elephants, water buffalo, deer, kingfishers, and snakes (both in and out of the water) are real.

We took in a Kathakali dance performance--very stylized traditional dance usually performed in Hindu temples as part of a festival. Then there was an elephant ride. I didn't appreciate just how wide elephants are. I don't usually stretch that far in yoga class. Ouch! But it was worth it. Anna participated in washing down the elephant after our ride. We both had a ball!

We also took in a Kerala traditional martial arts performance. They use real swords. Sparks were flying everywhere. What athletes--agile, flexible, fast, disciplined.

This area of Kerala is also known for cultivation of many Ayeurvedic herbs. We saw several areas under cultivation, mixed in with the herb farms and coffee plantations. Being high in the Western Ghats, the climate was pleasantly cool--Anna was "freezing" and had to get an extra blanket at night. But the air was clean and the stars were beautiful

We spent one day in the nature sancturary, including a three-hour nature walk, a bamboo raft float, and a late afternoon boat trip on Lake Periyar to see the wildlife. We saw a herd of elephants exhibiting an interesting behavior. There was one baby in the herd. When the elephants sensed the approach of our boat, they circled around the baby so that it became almost completely hidden. How protective.

I did have one relection: Injury happens quickly, while healing takes time. This is not great wisdom. It is only observation. I was only on the bamboo raft for a short time, but the leeches attacked my feet unnoticed in seconds. (I had wondered why all the park rangers were wearing gaiters.) After scrubbing and disinfecting the five bloody spots, the healing started by the next morning and all that remains now is a minor itch. I was reassured that the only danger from the leeches is from scratching the bites to the point of infection. That's not the impression I got from watching "African Queen!" Maybe Bogart was overly dramatic?!?

There are some odd place names between Kumily and Madurai, Cumbum for example. This stretch of road is also notable for the many rude brick factories, which featured live firing of the bricks by burning down the building in which the bricks were stacked. Our driver explained that the clay, which is very red in this part of India, is the best in all of Tamil Nadu for making bricks and that they are exported to the rest of India. "They last up to fifty years," he pointed out.

We also say corn fields along the way. That surprised me, since I don't think much about corn being a part of the Indian diet. So much to learn!

Anna returned to Little Lambs School today (Wednesday, 7 January). I will be introduced to her students tomorrow and have been put on notice to behave myself. This weekend I plan to spend time in Mammalapuram (about 50 kilometers south of Chennai) exploring the temples and beach.

I love you and miss you all,

Jim