Escape Routes

Case of the ole BWS (Blog Withdrawal Syndrome)

2007-11-25T01:54:00.001-08:00

Nothing special. No haikus. No deep thoughts. Just 4:56 AM and feel like writing some random things just to mark 'em down. Since it's the chic thing to do I'll get my Thanksgiving and its subsequent weekend drops out the way.

1. Hope everyone had a happy one.

2. Saw half of my 4 siblings. But the two I didn't see are technically half siblings (which you only really say in explanations of your family tree to other people if you give "half" a shit about the sibling), so does that mean I saw 2 out of 3 siblings?

3. Cal didn't play so we couldn't lose.

4. Went to 3 movies with abovementioned family. "Fred Claus" is friggin' hilarious for a holiday movie, a la "Elf". Vince Vaughn is like Al Pacino. It doesn't matter what character he plays, he acts like Vince Vaughn. So of course, he's got a line somewhere, something like "I appreciate you not bringing your negative vibe to my party." If you know what I mean, you know what I mean.

5. Thinking about the upcoming week...the last week before I head out west like so many young men before me. The Milky Lactating One (you might know him as Mike) turns 30, so that should be fun. Another one enters the trey nil.

At times I feel old when I look around at my friends. Or maybe I feel too young because of where they're at and I'm not...I'm single, in career transition, moving next week with no housing of my own (but with the graciousness of those I love, who love me back, stable housing), no car, et cetera, et cetera. Grass is always greener, right? I'm cool with no car and I'm also alright being single for the moment.

But it is a bit tough when you went to the best public university in the US, kicked ass in the grades department, and proudly see all your friends around you makin' the big moves in their careers. I mean, I signed up for this, though. I had an entry level job at any of the top investment banks, accounting or financial firms in the country waiting for me, but it isn't/wasn't in me. So it's time to dig in and kick ass at whatever I decide on. It's TIME...TO...DECIDE, dude- I tell myself. Well, on December 4th begins my umpteenth New Life since 1999. In the words of my surfer buddies from SoCal...Shaka Brah! That's some gnarly shit!

P.S. do you guys really say "shaka" when you're out on the rip curls using surfspeak?

out

Circles Are Funny Little Things

2007-11-07T06:03:00.000-08:00

Six years ago, I had a round trip ticket from San Francisco to Accra- capital of Ghana- returning in 3 months. That would've been my first and probably never duplicatable backpacking adventure. I had plans to explore the area and places I would admittedly never know if not for the planning...Burkina Faso, Benin (the birthplace of voodoo), Togo (which had only been a sandwich shop in Berkeley up until then), and maybe getting as far west as Senegal or Mali. I had bought me a French book and started getting some key phrases down. I knew all the hotspots for monkey viewing. I had money in my bank account. Then....BAM! As that commercial says, "Life comes at you hard." So do cars. Hospital for two months, and trip canceled for rehab. By the way, to get a refund on a missed plane trip, you need a hell of an excuse and some CSI like proof. I had to send in hospital records, CT scans, MRI's, the whole nine to get that $1200 back. So after this trip, assuming I had no serious insect transmitted viruses, I was planning on going back to the area I had gone to school and loved, and putting that business degree to work, or something like that.

Plans had been changed and rocked. I know. I know. Why didn't you just go back to San Francisco as planned? By the time rehab was over, I had no cash to set up shop there. Plus, being that my very brain had been literally rocked, shit was kinda confusing and I was, to be honest, mentally and physically too tired to try anything too new. So, I got a small loan from my peops to go to Thailand. In case you ever need to know, setting up shop in Thailand only requires a pretty small pile of dough.

So two times in Thailand, once in Vietnam, once more in Vietnam, once in India, and four months bumming around Europe later, where is my most probable next stop? San Francisco. Shit just worked out that way. But, damn, where will I live? A little opening has revealed itself...with my last college roommate. Weirdddd...

and we go full circle. Now I just need the job part hammered out. Using that little business degree ain't gonna be so easy, now. Six years removed from any business experience, I wonder what the statute of limitations on that piece of paper is...despite it being from such a good school...the adventures never do cease. Am I equipped for the journey? Stay tuned for updates...

Blank Memoirs of the Man Canon Left Behind

2007-10-26T22:14:00.000-07:00

I finally installed the software for my camera onto my computer, downloaded the pictures, loosely categorized them, blah blah blah. Many thinking "about time!", perhaps? Check these stats, for you photophiles awaiting pictures from my trip:
Months- 6
Countries- 9
Cities- 18
Pictures- 214 (with many being different perspectives of the same thing)
Excuses- Countless
Excuses deemed valid by most people from industrialized nations- 0, I think

To sum up why I didn't take so many pictures is because, while I met and had great times with plenty of people along the way, a la the journey of Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee, many of whom I still keep in touch with...I was technically traveling alone. All but like 3 of my pictures are of inanimate objects or animals...nothing worth really showing people.

Incidentally, since most of the pictures are of buildings and such, I had to do some FBI-esque forensic analysis to remember where some of them were. Example: zoom in on signs and try to figure out if the language on the sign is Polish or Czech.

Why didn't you take pictures of these people you met, dumbass? Ok, excuses, excuses. First of all, while my camera isn't the most cumbersome on the market, 007 would surely scoff at it. Nothing ruins a great social moment for me like whipping out the ole camera and waiting while one person (waiter, friend, innocent bystander) takes a picture with everyone's camera in the group. Or now that technology is catching up, we have the "Just send it to me so it can sit on my hard drive or e-mail inbox for the next 35 years..." method of banking on the responsibility of the owners of maybe one or two cameras to receive that Kodak moment. Not to mention the choreagraphed poses that hardly capture the true feeling of the situation.

So most of my pictures were actually taken because "that's just what people do", especially on vacation. And these days, it seems like every time you gather with more than 3 people, or see something you might talk about later (like when you went to that U2 concert and got a picture of Bono on your Razr from the upper deck of Giants Stadium), it's one of those occasions.

Look folks, if I can't remember someone I met, or something I did, then it/they probably wasn't important enough to me in the first place. If you want to know about anything I did or anyone I met, then I will be more than happy to tell you stories till the cows come home. To be honest, you seeing them in a photo won't give you any better idea of what they are like than my poetic words would, which flow off my tongue like paint, forming a picture in your mind clearer than any photo ever could. With my scatterbrain, the pictures tend to be more like Dali or Picasso than the old realists, but that's part of my charm.

If anyone else out there is as scared of the fact that technology is kidnapping our conversational and social skills and holding them without ransom, then please holla at a brotha. Man, in like 10 more years, can you imagine the percentage of people we regularly communicate with that we will actually see in the flesh more than once a year? E-friends. What's the next Facebook/My Space thing (and why is My Space so passe already anyway?)? How about a restaurant that has tables for one, with a monitor in the middle of it, where you can share a meal with someone via webcam? As ridiculous as it sounded to me as I thought of it just now, I guarantee something similar to that comes out between the time OJ goes to jail and gets released. Starbucks has already teamed up with Apple for the iPhone, so that shit's probably in the making as we speak...

Random Thoughts, in Lieu of Anything Exciting in My Life

2007-10-02T12:50:00.000-07:00

I haven't written lately cause nothing too interesting has happened to me except the reunions with some of my closest friends in New York (sorry if some take offense because Brooklyn isn't really New York).

Last night I switched over to CNN during a commercial of the Patriot's romping of the Bengals and the topic was "Should America Be English Only?" I didn't watch much but I believe it was the old "sink or swim" debate about how first generation non-English speakers should be taught- either in Spanish (representing the biggest group in need) with gradual integration into English classes OR straight up English. Whatever the specific bickering was about, the following is really pathetic...

They had a poll with that question, simply YES/NO and with over 13,000 votes the split was 74% YES 26% NO. Now, you gotta assume that the average CNN watcher is more educated, and richer, than the average person watching the Bachelor (which I also switched to, to see if he gave a rose to the one with the silicone implants...he didn't). This is a fair assumption if you check out the commercials representing their viewers- investment funds, airlines' new business classes, etc.

I know that in reality, no matter how many Spanish speakers eventually are in this country, we probably won't really need Spanish. But just the attitude that this country should be English ONLY is twisted and narrow. Sure, I don't know all the minute details of the specific issue they were talking about, but in the general sense of things, it is better for international/intercultural relations if you can speak more than one language. Trust me, people really appreciate and respect if you at least try to commuicate with them in their language. But I digress, because I don't have anything else happening now.

Oh, I guess one more thought I had about the state of communication in general these days. And my love of the impact of technology upon it....just kidding....hate it. It's a sports thing. In the recent women's soccer World Cup, the coach made a bonehead move and benched our goalie for the semifinals cause the backup had more experience against Brazil (the team we played). Brazil spanked us 4-0 and the regular starter completely stabbed the coach and the other goalie in the back with some pretty harsh press conference comments. Of course, she realized later that she was a bit emotional at the time and could've handled it better but stood by her comments. So she apologized. How?....

on her MySpace page. That is so lame on so many levels. If you don't agree or want me to explain the lameness, please ask.

Thoughts on Traveling 2: Culture Shock

2007-09-08T03:11:00.000-07:00

To follow up on my last post about needing a home, it's interesting that I am reading Robinson Crusoe right now. It's a boring ass book, if you cared, but much of the book is about him just wanting to get his pad tight. He's got nothing, no people, no foreseeable chance of getting back home, but he spends years building his abode and such. I don't care much about "stuff" so to speak, but whatever crap I do amass, it'll be great to have one place to put it all. As it will take me at least a week to buy a computer and get hooked up on the net, I really look forward to having someone's jaw drop when I tell them I don't have one.

I think one of the coolest things about travel is that "Wow! I'm in _____" feeling you get when everyone around you is speaking whatever language, and seeing random meat, connected to the body parts, hanging in shop windows, etc. I am not really a spiritual traveler who goes to come to a better understanding of the world we live in, blah blah blah; I trip out on the little things, like how the buses in Bangkok don't come to a full stop and don't wait until you're necessarily fully on to go. Or the old men riding bicycles on the middle of the busy highway on my way from Saigon's airport.

In my experience, there was a renewed culture shock going from Europe and Japan, at first, to developing countries- which is a true eye-opener which everyone from the "West" should do if they can. But then after living in SE Asia for about 3 years, India didn't trip me out so much. I did have some random, unexplainable moments in Bangkok, when I was just thinking "Damn, I'm living in Thailand. That's fricking weird." I have one exception...Tokyo. Tokyo is no doubt unlike any place I have been to. I would be very wary of the most seasoned traveler going there and saying that they weren't a little shocked at it.

So my point? No clue really. I think that a big part of my just wanting to go home and settle down is due to the fact that I just don't know where I would go to get that culture shock rush again. My top three, in some order, where I believe I might be wow-ed, are 1) the Caribbean- for some kind of paradise/third world vibe. 2)West Africa- just because that's the root of most of the music I listen to (and probably you, too), and wildlife, and I just think it would just be dope there 3)Israel- to see my peops. I don't see how Israel couldn't be an eye-opener. You think security at Heathrow or JFK is a bitch, I can't imagine Tel Aviv.

Well, I'll be home Monday. And yes, I am ready for some football.

Thoughts of Traveling and France: Need of a Home

2007-08-31T12:54:00.001-07:00

Well I am finally coming home after 6 months abroad. It wasn't (all) meaningless backpacking: I volunteered in India, did do some useless backing in the friendlier parts of Eastern Europe, and settled down for 2 months to consider working, if they'd give a visa to a Yank- they usually don't. It was a complete waste of time (only the French part). I haven't learned or really even practiced much French. I should've counted my losses and come back a month and a half ago.

Today's entry in a multi-blog series will be about nomadic wandering-like the lifetime backpackers, who do exist, folks. I mean, going one place, then moving, then doing the same thing for months and/or years. Possibly do some work here or there to make a little money to extend you trip. The craziest thing was when I got an apartment for a month, I unpacked all my stuff before doing anything else. It was great not to have to lock my bags up cause some tech loving backpacker would rifle through my bag looking for the newest mp3 capable Nokia v.2564738290.

So my shit is going back into its cramped duffle tomorrow, but this time it's to go home. The "travel bug" that makes people like me want to see the world so much that you feel like seeing it all at once, like getting a collection of stamps in your passport collides with my desire to have a place that I can make phat with 70's furniture, a kitchen to practice some cooking- I was told the ladies love it, etc. Since I have been playing the travel bug card for six of the past 8 years, it's high time domestic SF was given a fair shot.

I won't say it's not a bit frightening. No job and no real place to stay but with my mum and dad. It's time to have a home, I really need to be able to answer the question "Where are you from?" next time I go abroad. Well, it's the US but is it Chicago? Cali? or New Jersey? Or am I not even from the US cause I have only lived there as a stepping stone to leaving again. I haven't been in the US too much since graduation and I'm somewhere in between a flag waving patriot and government hater. I can't ever say that one country is overall better than any other so I won't say the US is the best country in the world. I will say that I wouldn't want to be from any other country than the US and wouldn't want any language other than English to be my first.

As for where I am considering living, The Bay is the frontrunner but it could be a photo finish with New York, depending how things pan out through early October. Atlanta, Chicago, Boston, and maybe Miami or Hawaii (the "wouldn't it be cool to live there?" factor) are trying to slingshot out of the final turn.

out, SF

Sunday Rhyme

2007-08-26T14:04:00.000-07:00

As I promised...original sheeit...

know this girl...such a slut she
swallow more sausage than Kobayahsi
got her drunk off the Stella Artois
hooked up with Ali G, me, and Samois
not together...ran the train of course
woke up sober...b?+"#h lookin like a horse

Battle that kids. Tough to beat rhymes dropping Kobayashi and Ois in one verse

Touchdown

2007-08-24T05:11:00.000-07:00

It's kind of a play on words with two meanings.

1. My plane will touch down at JFK at approximately noon on Monday September 10. The itch is being scratched again because my plane has an awfully short layover in Milan. Hmmmm...I've never been to Milan...Do I leave the airport and walk around a bit? Nahhh. Time to go back somewhere I can understand everyone even if they have no idea what I'm saying sometimes. First I will be visiting another fallen homie in London.

2. My return coincidentally is at the beginning of the football season. Cal games, while not always easy to find on the east coast, do exist. If anyone happens to live in, say, Brooklyn and enjoys watching football, maybe we will be in touch? But if I move to the Best Coast, it's all the Strawberry Hill I can handle. I'm hopping the fence like Woodstock if I have to, baby.

Sidebar: There is this picture of Vlad Putin going around that I guess is making the Russian girls giggle and it goes a little something like this:

http://www.siberianlight.net/2007/08/14/putin-goes-fishing/

Comrade is kinda burly. He would kick Bush's ass all over the Oval office if it came down to it. But he better not bring that attitude over to Cali.

Dedication

2007-08-20T13:41:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you just gotta write one to at the risk of isolating others, and with this one-offending everyone.

This one is for Cod. Throwback to freshman year style. I was listening to some Snoop on me iPod the other day and perhaps the best rhyme he has ever used goes a little something like this. Can I kick it?

I come creeping through the fog with my saggin' deuce
Eastside, Long Beach in a 7-8 Coupe.......de...Ville.

-I'll play it for you and the Milky one when I get back.-

I'm going to start a Sunday post- cause it's Christian god day (loving the irony)- with my own original, raunchy verses and please post your own original verses in the comment section but no serious cursing in the house of god, please.

Out,SF

Friggin' Long-Haired Hippies

2007-08-17T11:46:00.000-07:00

I saw this doucmentary about the Glastonbury Music Festival the other day and it made me think of Burning Man cause this is usally the time of year I get e-mails from the homies announcing plans and fruitless invites.

The doucmantary was boring and had no discernible progression but served one purpose: reminding me how much I hate hippies. Don't misunderstand me: I believe in many of the ideas they endorse and pot's cool, too. But I ain't really falling for the indiscriminate hatred for all badge wearers and persistence in propogating conspiracy theories.

Sure there's loads of bad cops, but there's also loads of bad businessmen, priests, teachers, athletes, etc. People misabusing the power given to them is just human nature, which escaping is easier said than done. And we still are people, right? It don't make it right, but can you imagine a world with no law enforcement?

And conspiracy theories? Of course there are tons of them that ring true as daylight but who honestly cares? There have been and will be forever. Is my life really going to change because I know for a fact that there are aliens and they killed JFK, but in fact it is Elvis' body being preserved in Area 51. No I'd probably be dumber for even spending an ounce of brain power caring. And without secrets, what would there be to speculate about?

So, Glastonbury is a pretty cool music festival, I'm sure. But did you know that every year 300,000 folks attend? That is madness and I hate crowds. And while I'm sure tons of the people who go are genuine year long professional hippies, there's also loads of people who play the part to escape the mundaneness of their desk jobs and evryday lives where worries about material goods often dominate all other worries. I'm down for escapes and getting into the spirit of things, but it does kind of cheapen the whole event, by turning it into a more laid back version of corporate team-building trips.

SICK OF TAKING ORDERS FROM A BOSS WHO WILL SACRIFICE FAIR TREATMENT, SATISFACTORY WORK CONDITIONS, AND HUMANE TREATMENT IN THE NAME OF THE BOTTOM LINE?

LOOKING FOR A PLACE WHERE YOU CAN BE THE PERSON YOU REALLY ARE, DRESS THE WAY YOU REALLY WANT TO DRESS, DO THOSE THINGS THAT ALWAYS SCRAPE AT YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS MIND BUT YOU ARE TOO EMBARRASSED TO TELL ANYONE, AND TAKE SOME DRUGS THAT HAVEN'T EVEN BEEN INVENTED YET, WITHOUT ANYONE JUDGING YOU?

Just my thought for and ad. Stop with your, come on S, it ain't just about the drugs. But it would be interesting to see a drug free hippie festival. I am not a drug hater. Although in my defense, I am only a proponent of the natural goods. While alcohol is natural, I do question the naturalness of OE and box wine- but whatever, can you argue with over a liter of refreshing beer-like beverage that costs like 2 bones?

Just some not too organized thought I had as I trudged through this film.

By the way, hate to disappoint- although I know I am overrating the love for me and my random thoughts- but my posts will probably be less based on trippy things that happen to me in foreign countries and more on my personal ponderings. This is cause I am probably- and you who know me understand why that word is in italics- coming/going back to the States soon. See when I see ya...S

The Big Trey Nil

2007-08-11T05:37:00.000-07:00

I honestly am not phased by this whole turning 30 crap and don't feel any older but then again my birthday is tomorrow so maybe I'm jumping the gun. I did ponder it yesterday and can't believe I've only been on this planet for 30 of these things. Feels more like 78 years 4 months 11 days 19 hours and 59 minutes or something.

I did have a "oh look at those spry little whippersnappers!" moment yesterday. I went to this English pub recommended by my new roommate- an English girl who puts in a couple shifts at a different English pub (oh, how not novel for a Brit working abroad). There were a lot of expats and/or travelers there, which usually makes a great spot for lone foreigners such as myself to meet people and get some English speaking practice in, if nothing else. This place was loud, dark, and crowded- not the best combo for meeting others when flying solo- granted it was a Friday night.

So I take my beer to one of a couple tables outside on the sidewalk. This pub is in a fairly "hip" area of town with loads of bars and clubs that I hadn't known about, for lack of need or interest, before. So I'm sitting there watching Bordeaux's finest stagger by at about 1:30 AM. Dudes supporting themselves on each others' shoulders as they do nothing but make noise, thinking they're the coolest and funniest shit since Eddie Murphy in the 80's. Chicks walking by just being louder than usual, etc. I mean everyone was so damn loud and playing the stupid drunk card. So I ask anyone who has been with me drunk after the college years if I am much louder and say noticeably more inane and senseless crap than when I am sober? I know occassionally I am/do, but usually?

I have no idea what the hell the point of this post is, but it's just the last thing of any consequence I was thinking of before I am able to use the computer and turn 30.$

So Jah Seh

2007-08-04T04:41:00.000-07:00

I'm not too familiar with the doctrines of Rastafari, but I'm pretty sure he didn't say "Smoke I sensi with tobacco."

We'll come to that, in due time. I just moved into a new apartment. Best thing about it is that I have unpacked my bags for the first time in about 5 months. The place is about 420 bucks for the month- shut it stoners, I hate that "holiday". Why do you need an excuse to celebrate weed, especially when it isn't even the police code for marijuana or whatever it's claimed to be? Go put that Bob Marley poster with the cover of Kaya on your wall and leave me alone...

Oh, sorry. Yeah so the place is worth 320 Euros, utilities included. Spacious, clean, quiet roommates, except for the English bird whose friends, who are way cuter than her (sorry, love) are staying with her this week- and she hasn't even invited the new guy out drinking with them- wonder how I creeped this one out. The other guy is Chinese and we "communicate" in French. My French ain't up to speed yet, but he obviously speaks the French version of a NY corner store owner's English accent. Makes me sound like Chirac or something. Oh, but it has it's charming aspects, too. Like the standing style shower with no door whcih has one of those hose-style heads that can be taken down, except that when it's in place the holder thingy doesn't stay, so it rotates all the way down to simply spray the shower wall. But I picked up a 20 dollar pair of computer speakers to hook up to me iPod so my own music is out in the open air for the first time in months.

Sorry, I digress. To get to know my neighbors, I head to the African restaurant/bar across the street. I order a draught beer but the tap is permanently empty and it seems like the only beers they actually have are large bottles of Heinie or bottles of Guiness. The barman, from Guinea, tells me in his cheerful African accent "Guiness. It's good for you." You know those "Guiness Gives You Strength" posters? I heard they were ad campaigns for the African market because they believe that it does give you strength, and I ain't talking about in the same ways as roids. And this bottle of Guiness says "foreign extra" or something on it. I look and it's been imported for Cameroon. France must get the colonizer discount on that.

So the barman tells me there's a reggae party in the basement so I check it out later. I look around and most everyone looks like they would be perfectly at place at a Common concert or something. A few Rasta-ish kids in the house. And tons of people are doing the same thing: getting out their pouch of tobacco, papes, and a small sack of weed or nugget of hash. Then they roll their Euro spliff, sticking two papers together in an L shape and mixing it with tobacco...

At a reggae party in the states, it smells like a skunk farm, but here it just smelled like a baby skunk walked through the Phillip Morris factory and tried out his tail for the first time...like "poof". I don't know, something about tobacco in a joint is wrong. If you're in a country where this is standard practice, it should be legal to smoke weed if you smoke it straight.

I do have to admit that it was pretty cool seeing the French cheek kiss greeting thing at a reggae party.

2 Cool Things About French

2007-08-01T04:52:00.000-07:00

1. Maybe some of you know that one way to ask "How are you?" is "Ca va?". Well it actually means something like "Everything's good." so you can have a greeting like this. For example, I meet up with Samois, of course, at the local creperie:

SF: Ca va?
Samois: Ca va. Ca va?
SF: Ca va.

Wicked cool, eh?

2. I learned in my lesson the other day that the word "deja" means "already" and the word "vu" is the past tense of the word "see". So oila!

deja vu= already seen

I still think it just means there's a glitch in the matrix, but they can use that already seen rubbish if they want.

Oh, The Choices!

2007-07-26T08:27:00.000-07:00

There has been talk in the past about how exactly Samois' name is spelled. Me having doled out the name, had the "ois" ending in mind, so it stuck like that, but there has been some controversey on what the true ending should be. With the specific grammar of a Korean Quebecois word I'm not sure, but below are some possible spellings. Let's debate or just let the man himself pick.

1. "Ois": The original, chosen because the man is from Quebec, making him Samois the Quebecois. This is also the ending of the word for month (mois)

2. "Oi": Another word with the same pronunciation as the above "mois" is of course "moi", meaning me. By the way, in the French dubbed version of Austin Powers, Mini Me is called Mini Moi. I couldn't make that up...

3. "Oit": I am staying on a street called Rue Saint Benoit.

4. "Oie": You know goose liver, that French delicacy foie gras? Maybe we can call him Samoie Gras.

More when I learn more French...

A bientot,
SF

One For the Homies

2007-07-24T16:28:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry but this is maybe my funniest French language experience from the past 2-3 weeks in Switzerland/France. I'm playing asshole (the card game) with these kids and when you don't know if it's your turn or not, you ask "Ca moi?", which is pronounced like (Sah Mwah). Sound familiar? Funny, funny stuff and a French shout out to my Quebecois amis. That's all I wanted to say....

Difference in Cultures

2007-07-23T15:11:00.001-07:00

Well at least tonight is/was kind of fun....

USA: Puff Puff Pass

France: Puff Puff Puff Puff....Wait....Wait more....Puff...Wait a bit more...Puff Pass

Oh shit! It's all gone...already?

Malaysia: Puff, Puff...Get stoned....

No, I mean that shit literally:

http://asiadeathpenalty.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html

Early Mid-Life Crisis?

2007-07-22T05:00:00.000-07:00

Here's a tiny sob story for you. Yesterday I was a bit lonely. The people I'm staying with right now took off for an overnight trip to one of their friend's parent's home in the woods. I was graciously invited but politely turned down the offer of being engulfed in the French chitter chatter of a dozen or so twenty something year olds.

I claimed I had to work on my CV, which I honestly had to do and actually did some work on it, but mostly I just took a nap, went out for dinner and a couple beers and returned "home" to tuck in at midnight. Really not that an unusually depressing night for someone who has just gone to a foreign country, where they can't speak the language and don't really know anyone. Hell, I'm kind of proud of myself that I didn't buy a 12 pack and polish it off. But in the end, I did feel a bit like one of those Dostoyevskian characters who goes mad coming home to the same musty, candlelit room every night-which he is letting from some old woman who reads his mail before giving it to him- to boiled potatoes and a bit of beef, if he's lucky.

Then it struck me...maybe I wasn't lonely from being left alone, albeit by choice (isn't this whole damned trip of mine?), but because their trip reminded me of days I can't ever go back to. How much time in advance, not to mention plane tickets and long car drives just to get to the same starting point, would my friends need to have an "impromptu" gathering of that sort? Shit's changed, huh? Not to say that I feel the need to go on such a trip.....but it would be nice every now and then, right?

Is this coincidence that the big, scary 3-0 is coming in a couple weeks? To be honest, like R Kelly said "Age ain't nothing but a number." And then he videotaped himself pissing on his 13 year old cousin. If our society's number system revolved around pi or something, then my big "Uh, oh I'm getting old" birthday wouldn't happen until I was 31 years and approximately 152 days (rounded up) old. But when people constantly make such a big stink about something, you can't help but wonder...I mean the 30 year old thing, not whether it's really OK to have sex with your 13 year old relative, even if it's consensual.

Well, my flatmates (yeah I said flatmates. deal with it Yanks) come back this evening and I think I'm going to make up for that 12 pack. Then I'm going to do a boatload of blow and prowl the streets of Bordeaux looking for West African hookers. Just kidding, mom.

Out,
SF

A Trivial Pursuit?

2007-07-17T10:38:00.000-07:00

The question is whether my mission to learn French is or is not a fruitless endeavor. Well, oddly enough last night Trivial Pursuit answered that question for me. Me and 3 others butted heads in a game of Trivial Pursuit- Junior Edition. If it had been Genus Edition they would've been eating the dust kicked up by the knowledge left in my wake.

They were kind to me and tried to keep the questions about l'histoire du Francais away from me. I also got to hear the question, then read it if I needed to (of course, I usually, but NOT always did). I also had my dictionary in waiting. And would you believe it, but I placed second! Fair enough that two of my questions were about characters in the Jungle Book and another was about how many original states was the US made of. mais la n'est pas la question (that's not the point). French is kinda easy, kids. Why did I take Spanish for 5 years in high school but can only order beer? Now, my French grammar is probably better after like a week here than my Spanish ever was.

However, my English is taking a serious nosedive. I have no idea how to curse anymore, so if you get any calls from me with some inappropriate uses of "fuck" and the like, give me like a week back home (or an ex-pat friend here) to get back in the swing of things.

I'm fucking out like Jenna Jameson,
SF

The Interpreter

2007-07-13T04:18:00.000-07:00

I don't really have anything interesting to write but I feel like my faithful readers might be missing me. Anyway, I am in Bordeaux right now committing emotional suicide (direct any questions about that to my personal e-mail address). I am going to start French lessons and am really pumped about it. I have never studied French other than reading a couple chapters of one of those "Learn French in 7 Days" books or whatever. I know much more than I thought.

I was just in Geneva visiting my Japanese homie and I swear I felt like Jason Bourne. First off because I opened a bank account which I have to access with my palm print and retina. I hope those 10 Euros come in handy someday.

Second off, I was speaking in some serious tongues. In a blatant attempt at showing off, I insisted on speaking only Japanese when we were on the tram. She speaks flawless English. It was just a shameless example of me having the locals try to guess what the hell round-eyes was speaking. And guessing they were, I reckon.

And my French? Let's just say it's the beeznus. I was tossing around "C'est combien"s (How much does it cost?) like it was going out of style. When they answered did I understand? No. Once? No. Not even like one little time...like mqybe kinda sorta understand? No. But Rome was not built in a day. I did however successfully buy a phone card, get change for the tram, and have the guy at the shoe store fetch me a shoe from the back to complete the pair on display I wanted to try on....all in French. Like I said, the beeznus. More on my progress later, mes amis. A bientot....

Civil Rights

2007-07-04T04:38:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I exercised my -what should be international- right to drink beer on the subway in an open container. Here's how it went down...

I go to a corner store next to the subway and pick up the only beer I hadn't tried yet- von Raven- which also happened to have the coolest label and cost the least (about 1 dollar). I asked the cashier to open it for me and he looks at me befuddled and points, as if I'm Borat trying to figure out how to turn on a TV, to the bottle opener hanging on a hook in front of me. Wilkommen til Deutschland!

So, strolling down the street feeling like the hot doo doo, I cradle my beer and hop the subway. I wasn't the bomb anymore when I noticed the guy next to me enjoying a beer as well. The thing is, but for the young punks and alkies, no one abuses this privlege. They're just having a beer instead of a Diet Coke or whatever.

Most people over in Europe respect beer. Maybe because it's not seen as something to be tucked away in your home.

Beer drinkers, let's unite, or petition, for NO MORE BROWN BAGGING! That's for school lunches, Mr. Senator, and I ain't seven anymore.

My Lover is a Bitch Named Karma

2007-06-30T07:23:00.000-07:00

In many, if not most countries in Europe, there are no gates for the subways or local trains. On the buses, every door opens instead of everyone having to pass by the driver to pay fare. I'm always thinking, "This shit would never happen in the US." So I then started thinking, "I ain't paying. I never seen a ticket collector on the subway." So I'm on the subway in Berlin and this regular looking lady taps me, waving a card with the subway logo on it. OOPS!

Instead of handling this on the train, I motion that we get off at the next stop. We do, and her partner follows- a scary looking German guy with not so full a set of teeth. Now, I have heard of people getting caught and playing the dumb foreigner card. The ticket collector simply escorted them up to the ticket machine and post-purchase, said dumb foreigner was riding happily on the metro. I try this card but they weren't having it. They whip out their cell phones and tell me they'll call the polizei. I am done. 40 Euro lighter, I do the math in my head and figure I had gotten about 25-35 Euros in free rides. Needless to say, I don't really have a "public transportation fine" column in my budget. If you read my blog about frollicking on the Holocaust memorial, you can see I'm on the watchlist with the Deutschland Polizei.

I went to this casino today in Hamburg. Blackjack opens at 3 they said, and I need a sportscoat, which they will happily rent to me for 5 Euro. I'm so there. So I'm walking down the streets killing time and I see this sign for a place called Casino Club or whatever. I jaunt in to see the Baccarat situation and climb up a couple storeys of a narrow staircase. I couldn't help but wondering why instead of a reception, there were little numbered doors. OK, one more floor up. One such door is open, and an aging German lady in lingerie is lying on a dubious bed. OOPS! I'll go back to that other casino and play blackjack, I think. If I win, I'll go back to Casino Club, baby!

Canuck Pride

2007-06-27T02:58:00.000-07:00

If you have ever traveled abroad, you may have noticed a proliferation of maple leaf patches sewn to backpacks. I haven't asked any of them why they do it yet, but the rumor is that they don't want to be confused for Americans. This jabs at the part of my brain that makes me think people are stupid, for many reasons.

- I personally can't tell the difference between American and Canadian accents, but English, Irish, Scottish, Aussie, Kiwi, etc. are easy to pick out, right? Well over 90% of non-native English speakers can't pick out any accents.
- A good deal of the locals wouldn't know what the hell that leaf on your bag was. They're probably more likely to compliment you on your Timberland backpack.
- OK, maybe I can understand why they do it...I'm constantly getting socked in the jaw when I tell people I'm from the US.
- If you're not wearing it for the locals, then you must be wearing it for other travelers. Travelers, by nature, are open-minded and don't care where the hell you're from so long as you can drink a beer and have a laugh.
- I don't seem to see the Quebecois do it (like Samois, for example), probably because they don't want to be seen as Canadians. If the Quebecois don't do it, nobody should. We all know Quebecois are the creme de la creme de Canada.

Even worse, I hear that a lot of Americans do it, as well. I think only a British English word is appropriate for those folks: Wankers! Come on, I know you may not agree with the politics and all that, but America is a great country. If you like Canada so much, move there homeboy. Don't believe the hype on the travel warnings from the Department of State website. There is not much Anti-American sentiment to the point where you're going to get kidnapped in the middle of Warsaw and having to wait for Condoleeza to hand tax dollars over to the Warriors of the Fourth Reich or whatever, in exchange for your safe release.

Traveling is all about meeting people from other countries and experiencing and exchanging culture. You hardly EVER see any other flag patches except the maple leaves. Let's all get over this international tension, shall we? At least on the microcosmic level. Let the palm greasers squabble on the macro-scene.

Rollin' on the Westside.....of Berlin that is

2007-06-25T03:36:00.000-07:00

Mental note:

When courting a fine young maiden and you offer to buy her a drink, if she answers "Whatever you're having.", if you are having what I now dub an LBC (gin and orange), think twice about your order. And definitely don't buy her a second such drink. She will quickly turn into a damsel in distress.

Raining on Gay Parades

2007-06-23T18:06:00.000-07:00

Spent my first day in Berlin today. After, spending most of my life in the US or medium-sized cities in Asia, it is admittedly a bit trippy to see a city with so many colors- white, black, yellow, brown, etc. The difference between the US and other countries is that even our smaller cities are like crayon boxes. But it's eye-opening to see these dynamics anyway.

So after taking advantage of the all night weekend metro and shuffling back into the hostel at about 5AM, today was sort of a late start. I am boycotting guide books such as Lonely Planet on this trip, so my guess about what to do was as good as yours.

The map I have shows a little line of the border of the Berlin Wall. Supposedly, there is like one rock left that tourists flock to but I wasn't about to ask reception where it was. Instead I pointed to a metro station that was near the wall and a Holocaust monument, and off we went.

My first clue was the man in the wedding dress with a towel wrapped around his head who was entering the subway gates as I was exiting them. Stepping into the sunlight, I was greeted by rainbows and house music. Crowds and broken glass lined the streets as sailors in assless chaps, men made up to look like Carnaval dancers, and dudes sporting three piece rainbow suits complete with tophats, gyrated by.

My traveling partner, the lovely Mme. Anne a.k.a. Butterfly/Cherry/Angel (mais en francais, bien sur), found it in herself to join the parade. I kept her attached to my hip, lest I should end up with no pants in some hash den with rainbow floor pillows. In fact, once she broke away for like a second and some bloke stroked my head. I'm no homophobe, but look don't touch, ese.

On the way, there was some crazy park filled with huge rectangular concrete blocks. Nothing seemed more obvious than hopping from block to block. Mme. Anne wanted to take a picture of the obnoxious American standing in the middle of this field of random blocks. As you get closer to the center, the blocks are staggered, meaning the heights change.

Cocky at first, I felt like Eddie Murphy in Golden Child by the time I was in a few blocks. Running my hand down the scar on my head, my stomach fell as I imagined my neck snapping when the side of my foot careened off the edge of the block on my next jump. Girl-impressing machismo doused, I decided to turn around. No matter because two cops were waving their Gestapo sticks at me, apparently telling me to get down. When someone is displeased with you and barks at you in a language you don't understand, it's always a little weird, but when it's German, it's uber-weird.

So, tonight at dinner. My boy AZ of Riga fame, living in Berlin, told me what the park was all about....It was that very same Holocaust memorial.

The story about it is that there are no plaques or signs anywhere indicating what it is. Also, to protect the blocks from graffitti, there is a chemical sprayed on them. Ironically, the company who made this chemical also made the gas for the chambers. Both these points have caused considerable debate about the significance of the monument. In a rush of good conscience, Nazi DuPont agreed to supply the protective chemical for free. Nothing says, "I'm sorry for trying to exterminate your whole population" like the municipal version of the consolation prize for the loser of the Showcase Showdown.

Either way, I felt like a huge bonehead. Tomorrow, I'm going back to wipe off my heathen footprints.

Went to a jazz club tonight. Berlin is a surprisingly cool city, and the company helps. Lots of the high school aged kids look like the stereotypical German punks depicted in movies. There's also absoultely no law about drinking beer in public, subway system included. Chomping at the bit to uphold the appearance of the fine country gentleman I am, I haven't exercised that freedom.

Tomorrow, I hope to visit this Turkish kebab shop/cafe I walked by yesterday. Loads of boisterous conversation and pickup games of backgammon are the draw. It's absoultely nuts how many kebab shops are in Europe. I haven't noticed any corporations yet opening the McDonald's/Starbucks version of kebabs yet, but it's not a bad business idea if you fancy living in Europe and running some honest, hard-working immigrants out of their livelihoods.

More in the next couple days...I think my journey heads over to Paris on Tuesday.

Muppets Gone Wild

2007-06-21T17:28:00.000-07:00

If you read my bit about the blacklight theatre, you might have an idea that so-called traditional Czech theatre is anything but. Last night, checked out a rendition of the Mozart operea Don Giovanni "performed" by marionette puppets. I didn't know the story and hardly know it any better after the show, but this thing was so funny, my lovelies. Suffice to say I sincerely doubt that the original opera has the male lead trying to look under the girls' skirts.

Well that was the highlight of yesterday. Krakow ended up being a blast. Let me tell you about the last night. After enjoying some borscht at the restaurant across from the hostel for my fourth straight meal, we went to a fairly cool pub. Okay, ponder whether the culture of my nation is too cold, but at a very busy bar when you order a drink, is it necessary to add a "please" to the end of the order? Well, I didn't and the bartender made me say it, obviously he was greeted with a patronizing "thank you" upon delivery. This incident possibly tainted my evening.

After like 3 beers I went to buy the round I had been owing for two previous rounds cause of my slow pace. When I ordered, I was refused. I kept surprisingly cool, and was told I was too drunk. But the old guy in the corner, pontificating upon theories of astrophysics, playing chess with one of my roommates, who fell off his chair and broke a glass, was faithfully getting served.

After that, my mind was set on going to sleep. I was suckered into going to a club. I believe the music choice was Cindy Lauper, the Cure, or some other 80's suicide rock group. We were with a couple girls and I remember this guy wearing a sleeveless tee dancing awfully close, and with complete lack of anything that could even loosely be referred to as rhythm, behind one of the abovementioned girls. My already flying head took another leap and said "Man! You are in Eastern Europe and this is getting a smidgin trippy." I made a beeline for the WC with my screwdriver and pounded it in an attempt to right ship. Much to my chagrin, when I returned to the dancefloor, they had upgraded all the way to Whitesnake or something. Said beeline was transferred to the bar for another screwdriver. My friends had gone upstairs to the electronica dancefloor...

For those of you to whom I am anonymous, it must be said that anything over about 12 minutes of house, techno, etc. makes me want to pull a DaVinci on my ears. Second screwdriver gets necked and I excuse myself from the club, only to try to navigate my way home in the foreboding gray of the Krakow dawn...

Needless to say, the next day was rendered practically useless...

More from Den Faderland. Berlin tomorrow.

Prague 1

2007-06-19T01:24:00.000-07:00

I'm now in the hottest tourist spot in Europe- Prague. There are some crazily picturesque views of old buildings and all. But there a throngs of tourists. Some things that tourists go batty over are confusing to me.

Por ejemplo, Prague's most famous landmark is this cuckoo clock tower where it does all these jazzy things on the hour. I didn't make it to the big performance yesterday, but supposedly at the hour there are tons of fools with big lens cameras, white shorts, and black socks, surrounding it. When it's done, the crowd clears as quickly as if tear gas came shooting out of it. I was in the square when the clock struck midnight. When the first bell chimed, kids were running from the other side of the square. I guess at midnight, all the cuckoo things turn into pumpkins because the clock didn't do anything. The collective groans and "That's it? Does this thing really work?" sniggles was gretty funny.

For lunch yesterday, three of us shared this Czaech style souffle- potatoes, onions, mushrooms, chicken, beef, bacon, and cheese, indicated as being a portion for 2. We had at least 1/3 left between 2 guys and a girl. The other guy and I ordered this pretty wicked dark beer with 18% alcohol for 34 Czech crowns (like $1.50). The girl ordered a small bottle of water for 69. Some things in Europe are sweet.

Went to this supposedly famous black light theatre show last night. The room is all dark, and the actors wear clothes that glow in the black light. They do their thing (no talking, thankfully) in front of a black curtain while people behind the curtain move these glowing props around when it suits the story. This one was called Shock Therapy. It was a story about two people falling in love and then that's where the story got a little trippy. I think he got called to Vietnam and killed and him and the girl were making merry in purgatory. It was all set to the Beatles. I hate to drop Pulp Fiction lines because it' so posh, but I had a beer in the show. Concession stands at the moving picture shows have beer as well. I haven't done that yet because of the getting up to drain Sgt. Willy during the movie.

Might czech out the Medieval Torture machine museum later.

Peace out

Hannibal Schecter

2007-06-14T12:05:00.000-07:00

Tonight I went out by myself to a very small, early evening Chopin concert in Krakow. So relaxing. The pianist hit a natural E once when it should've been an E flat. So I ate his liver...

But seriously, I never would have done that (go to a small piano performance, not the liver bit) back home. I hope to take time out every now and then for random recreation.

Question for the Masses

2007-06-13T07:18:00.000-07:00

Last night I was having a long discussion with this "bloke" about the future of Western society regarding the internet. My opinion as an old school cat, was that overall the internet is bad for human social interaction. The question I posed to him was:

When is the last time you dropped by someone's home unannounced?

I know we don't "have to" anymore because of cell phones but it's just kind of sad that it's almost become rude.

Krakow Haiku

2007-06-13T07:17:00.000-07:00

Krakow is funny
Booze store slash money exchange
That's pretty sick, right?

Addendum to 2007 Backpacker Bylaws

2007-06-12T07:11:00.000-07:00

Subsection 734b to Law 3, Laptops

Cell Phones: I can understand in these days backpackers bringing their cell phones abroad. Especially if they're from Europe and the phones are compatible with local networks. However, there should be a limit on how many social calls you can make in one day. And there should definitely be an SMS limit. People's phones are chirping all day long in my rooms. It doesn't wake me up or anything- although it has a couple times- but it's saddening how people from industrialized countries are more or less worthless if they don't have internet connection, Blackberries(tm), Blueteeth(tm), or portable friggin GPS. The following example will demonstrate my annoyance.

I'm playing Scrabble with this girl in our room last night and spanking her (in the game, you sickos) by unfairly using my English teacher skills to dominate with 20 point 3-letter words. I accidentally left my dictionary at the hostel in Riga, so I asked if "hew" was a word. I'm pretty sure it is but didn't know the meaning. Then I put down "pro" and she tried to nege it as an abbreviation. I counterattacked by pointing out the use as in "pro vs. con". Sorry, but "pro" is a totally acceptable Scrabble word and I think she was being a baby cause it was like 240-95. I finished up with "id". You know, "id and ego" (it's a Freudian thing, if you're in the dark as well). I mentioned how it's more fun with a dictionary so you can learn words. My idea of fun is a little twisted, I guess. She, this friggin' girl, has the audacity to ask me whether my phone had a dictionary in it. This just scraped my soul and made me twitch in the same way when the dentist's brush goes over that sensitive part of your gums. Two reasons:

1. She assumed that every backpacker has/is/should be carrying a cell phone. Before this trip, I assumed the opposite. I guess my last major backpacking trip was in 1997 when pagers were all the rage- can I get a "word" from the cheeba smokers?

2. Said assumed cell phone has a dictionary. Is that possible?

So I borrowed her phone to SMS her mom...Her mom sent me a message back...

i miss u. wen u cum bak?

Sellout

2007-06-10T20:55:00.000-07:00

I showed up...silly me...in Gdansk, Poland, and practically got snubbed from every hostel. On the 3rd one, I got the "Rudy Suite", the janitor's room in the basement, for cheaper than all the other rooms anyway....HA, backpackers, I say.

Sufficiently scared, I booked a hostel for Warsaw...something I said I'd never do. I am the poser I said I'd never be. No turning back.

Just coming back now from a night out with some Irish dude playing the "are you gonna let an Irish guy drink alone?" guilt trip, so I'm typing a bit sideways. All I know is that the people sharing a room with me here think it's their apartment, and I'm Samois and expected to do the dishes...(had to be there, but probably better if you weren't). (I.E. Their crap's all over...shampoo bottles, bags, etc, etc.)

I'm on the top bunk and it's ridiculously high up. Need to type some more to sober up enough to climb up it. To give some perspective, earlier today, I put my bag up there and made the bed and St. Peter, or whoever that guy you all think greets people at heaven's gate, was there, like, "What you doing up here, Big Nose?". Innocently, I responded, "Man, it wasn't me who put this bed through to the heavens...But I thought you guys were EOE...Peace out..."

I've Seen Some Cheesy Knockoffs, but.....

2007-06-09T04:31:00.000-07:00

I'm in Gdansk, Poland now...Warsaw tomorrow. Last night, I'm looking for somewhere to eat dinner. I turn onto this main street and it's lined with outdoor restaurants. Jackpot! At the first one, I notice all the waitresses have very interesting outfits. They all have red spandex shorts so short they might as well have not been there. And tight black T-shirts that were so tight they might as well......

Why go down the street any further? That's exactly what I was thinking. The name of the restaurant, no joke, was Rooster. And the two "o"'s in the name were made out to be the rooster's eyes.

Only two differences between there and Hooters.
1. No buffalo wings
2. The girls at Hooters have way bigger roosters.

I think Hooters takes the gold medal.

By the way, I am curtailing my trip by quite a bit. New Yorkers should see me in mid or end of July. I'm really hoping to move to the best coast so Cali kids should see me in beginning of August.

The Most Tear Jerking Homeless Man Story Ever

2007-06-04T07:49:00.001-07:00

I was walking home last night...I mean this morning...after having met with some American expats and gotten into some senseless drinking at the casinos. Beer and blackjack were not meant to mix. So I'm walking back to my hostel, wallet and brain both burnt to hell. This homeless guy walks up to me and indicates that he wants a smoke with the dirtiest hands I've ever seen. Now I must intervene and say that often when I travel I smoke, but have NO problem stopping back in the US. So I happened to have a smoke. I told him I didn't have a light but lo and behold he pulled one out of his pocket, which I thought was ironic. I decided to have on with him as well. He reached in his pocket again and pulled out some loose change for the smoke he took. Despite my losses at the casino, I didn't take it. I walked away and somehow, my morning was happier just by this small offer. Tears were just welling up at the gates, ready to be released.

My Fragile Tolerance

2007-06-04T07:38:00.000-07:00

So, it's trippy cause it's only the beginning of June and it gets light at about 4 AM and never gets pitch dark. And my hostel room in Vilnius has lots of windows with flimsy curtains. That said, some inconsiderate cunt (British use of the word in reference to guys- chill out ladies) flicking on the lights at the butt crack of dawn will flip your eyes right open.

He sits down on his bed to his breakfast....A four pack and some kind of beer snack. Every sip he takes is accompanied by that "satisfy my thirst" Ahhhhh sound that would put extra in a Coke commercial to shame. And every time he takes a bit of food, the crinkling of the bag is like a jackhammer reverberating through the room. Hmmm...What's that smell? This dude has just lit up a smoke, when there are clear "no smoking- 120 lita fine" (like 50 bucks) signs all over. I raise my head and tell him to go outside with the smoke. He is Lithuanian or German or something but my English teaching skills got the message through.

I go to make wee and check the wall clock...6 AM. When I collapse back on my bed, I roll over and we make eye contact. He lifts a beer to me and asks "beer hoischt?" which I guess means "Do you want a beer to greet the roosters with?" At Chi Phi, I would've been all over that but I try not to drink until 9 AM these days.

I was so pissed I wanted to slit this guy's throat. Is that too much?

Question for the Fellows

2007-06-01T04:31:00.000-07:00

Last week, I had a little shortage of clean clothes, as is wont to happen on the road, or when you are relying on someone not named "Mom" (yours or mine) to do your laundry. So here is my question for the guys, and the ladies are welcome to chime in.

It goes without saying that when you wear a pair of boxers two days in a row, you turn them inside out the second day. But on the third day do you turn them back the right way? My logic was that maybe some of whatever makes it nasty to wear a pair of chonies more than once has worn off over that extra 24 hour period.

A Storyling

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

Do NOT bother reading this unless you have seen the part in Hostel when he is in the police department in Slovakia. You CAN read the last bit, though.

I was at the blackjack table and had this conversation with the dealer.

Dealer: Where are you from?

Me: I'm from the US.

Dealer (in his thick Eastern European accent): Oh! So far from home.

Incidentally it scared me a bit.

By the way, the whole thing about people hating Americans is not really true unless we are currently bombing their country or if you are a radical Muslim. Or, of course, if you are North Korean. Many (not even most) people hate the idea of America, especially G.W. This is why I never say I'm from America. The word for the US is some version of the word "America" in most countries I have been to. So whenever they talk about us on the news, it's always "America sent troops here. America bombed there." Maybe somehow, saying you are from the US has a different ring to it for them.

Backpacker Constitution 2007

2007-05-30T04:48:00.000-07:00

Hereafter, the term backpacker refers to anyone traveling in a foreign country/countries for a minimum of 2 months or more. The abovementioned backpackers often, but not always, are in between jobs, taking an extended holiday from one, or have a new job lined up upon their return. The following are my suggestions for some laws that need to be established for the backpacking community.

I. Use of the word "do": When meeting a fellow traveler at a hostel, bar, or other such venue, it is standard conversation starting protocol to ask where they have been, going from here, swap travel stories, etc. Unfortunately, most backpackers use the word "do" in regards to having been somewhere (e.g. I'm going to do Estonia next, I really want to do South America next, Have you done Croatia yet?). Travel destinations are not part of a universal backpackers task list, Mr. Around the World in 80 Days. At what point does one know when they have "done" a country? For example, I have been to Laos twice, but only to 2 cities and for about a week each time. Do i qualify for having "done" Laos?

II. Reservations: While recently discussing my plans with some Aussie blokes, I discovered that Krakow's hostels are completely booked for the upcoming month(s). Who knew that Krakow is the hot spot? For my first trip to Europe, Amsterdam was kind of the bomb (pun intended). The reason they are booked is that backpackers are now making reservations online for hostels. Come on, Mr. Freefloating Discover Myself While Writing My Memoirs in a Trendy Street Cafe, White Boy With Dreads. What happened to going where the wind blows you? I personally never reserve hotels. It IS different when traveling for a short time/with a family on a pre-planned vacation. But dude, if you're taking off work for like 3 months and will travel "until your money runs out" (another favorite saying) shouldn't your plan be a little more flexible? This attitude rarely bites me in the ass, but just last week I went from Liepajas, Latvia to Klaipeda, Lithuania, which is sort of big for Latvia but rather spread out so I couldn't find a hostel or suitable hotel. So I got on the next train to the capital Vilnius, and it's dope here. Chi, baby, chi.

III. Laptops: Bottom line, backpackers should not bring their laptops with them. Yes, I have seen it. If you have 2+ months to blow around the globe, then you surely don't need to be churning out projects for work or zapping your wifi (what the hell is wifi, anyway?) into the nearest connection.

IV. Eating: One of the best things, the only thing other than their price, about hostels is that lone travelers like myself can meet people and sometimes end up with new traveling companions (that's how I went to Morocco, my friend). Eating out with other folks is great when you're in another country. Down some local brews, scarf some grub and head to the bars after. And isn't eating out and trying the local food one of the best things about traveling? Many/Most backpackers staying in hostels eat all of their meals at the hostel: food bought from the supermarket and cooked in the common kitchen. Hey homie, I don't know about you but my cooking of genuine Lithuanian cuisine is a bit rusty. If you can't afford to eat the cheapest Lithuanian food at a restaurant at least say 3-4 nights a week (a cheap, decent meal, drinks included, will set you back a whole 8 bucks here), then you should really think about curtailing your trip now and heading back home, bro. That's cool, though, flying solo ain't that bad. But some company now and then is more fun.

peace out....

The (not so) Beautiful Game

2007-05-28T01:53:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's been awhile. My internet acces is even less available than in Asia. After Riga, where some successful blackjack and nice sigthseeing went on, I headed to a small town called Ventspils. It was supposed to be a growing 'city on the move' but I think they meant for families and old couples to visit. Not cool but some interesting artsy sculptures scattered around town from past art exhibitions. Then it was to Liepaja, Latvia's second biggest city, which we visit now...

I have been to four soccer/football games of consequence in my life.

1. Italy v. Russia, Napoli October, 1997 (result: Italy 1-0)

This was during my stay in Sweden junior year, when my 'school' schedule worked out so I had no classes for a whole month! I visited JGrand, who was studying in Venice and we headed to Napoli to check this game out. Whatever sport you think is big in the States, the Italians are friggin' nuts when it comes to soccer. They throw flares on the field, they are constantly punishing local supporters by closing the stadium to all spectators after riots- including one where a policeman got killed. There was that Korean guy in the 2002 World Cup who scored the winning goal against Italy to knock them out. He was playing for an Italian club and they cut him after that. And it goes on...

Anyway, this was a huge game. Winner went to the 1998 World Cup, loser went home. No flares but not only were all the seats packed but every step in the aisles was 2 deep. When we have huge games in football, baseball and such, there's like Bono singing the national anthem, Bonnie Raitt at halftime, and mascot races. It was cool because the scoreboard didn't have any replay video ability- it just told the score. And the halftime show was this large blowup soda can with a fan blowing under it so it 'danced'. That's it. Kudos to JGrand for scoring the tix off a lower mafia guy over an espresso and a cigarette.

2. Shimizu S-Pulse v. Iwata Jubilo, Shimizu,Japan 2000 (Result: I don't remember)

I think the home team won. All I remember is that is rained and I was eating edamame and drinking a bottle of cold green tea instead of hot dogs and beer. If you have ever seen a Japanese crowd at a baseball game, they're crazy. But they're Japanese so they're not crazy like Raiders fans. They are constantly beating taiko drums in perfect sync and yelling chants. Cool. After the game, went to a club and saw Shimizu's star, a Japanese-Brazilian guy named Alex whose on Japan's national team. He was obviously living large with 2 ladies on his arms.

3. Germany v. Cameroon, Shizuoka Japan, June 2002 (Result: Germany 2-0)

This was a World Cup game and I somehow scored tix for 35 bucks online. The Japanese who went to the game would pick which team they liked better and get all gussied up as if they were from there- face paint and the whole nine. I simply bought one of those soccer scarves the fans wave. Cameroon, of course. It was trippy seeing all these Africans in traditional dress in the middle of Japan. It was an awesome experience. Cameroon played better the first half but the Germans had like 6 yellow cards and a red or two. Won dirty and they loved it.

4. Liepajas Mettalurgs v. FK Riga, Liepajas, May 2007 (Result: 0-0)

Ah, what makes us (Americans) not understand soccer/football. Play a game for 90 minutes straight, nobody scores and call it a night. This was a game in Latvia's premier league but when we arrived at the stadium I wondered if we hadn't stumbled in on a high school game. The stands were the size of those at my high school, except on both sides of the field, to be fair. Crowd? Maybe 300? A couple people at my hostel had flown in from Riga for the game (it's like a 40 dollar round trip ticket so not THAT crazy) and we went. Ticket? 4 dollars. There were about 10 of us cheering for Riga and not too many more cheering the home side. The rest were just out for something to do on a lazy evening. I got into the chants that the handful of us were singing, including one to Hey Jude- Na, na, na, na na na na, na na na na, Ri, ee, ga (I'll sing it for you when I get back). Now, before I went to Thailand and the only sports to watch on TV were kickboxing, soccer, bowling, or darts, I knew shit about football. I'd watch the interviews and couldn't understand when a team lost and the manager would say he was happy about the loss. I understand the game a bit better now and let's just say the quality of football was not cool. Liepaja played better but didn't get the win at home so now they are on top of the table by 2 points over FK Riga.

Peace

India vs. Latvia (Round 1)

2007-05-23T03:31:00.000-07:00

I took a long distance bus yesterday from Riga. Well, it was only 3 hours but that covers half the country. Let's compare long haul buses in Latvia and developing countries (India in this case).'

Bus Condition: Actually, the buses are in pretty much the same shape if you go with the styling buses in India.

Cost: For a trip of about the same distance in both countries, it was only about a dollar more expsensive here.

Comfort: In India and Riga, you leave from a central bus stand. In India, you sit down and maybe there is no one booked in the seat next to you. Stoked! But before you get out of the town, there are like 5 stops around the outskirts of the city where people get on and it is pretty unlikely to be sitting alone. In Latvia on the other hand, for longer trips there is one bus stand and if you ain't getting on there, you ain't getting on, homie. Sat alone.

Safety: No contest. I tripped out because for this one stretch we were on a two lane road behind this slow moving truck. I couldn't understand why the driver wasn't changing lanes to pass him despite possible oncoming traffic. Then I snapped out of it and remembered I wasn't in a country where- in terms of traffic safety- people had absolutely no regard for peoples' lives. Now, I am trying to think if there is some reason that the poorer a country is, the crazier they drive? Ideas?

Scenery- Developing countries are more interesting from a cultural point of view, and depending where you are- beauty of the landscape. But culture shock of the National Geographic worthy visions of buffalo, rice fields, and shanty villages wears off soon enough. On this particular trip in Latvia, there were tons of huge fields of daffodils. There are a lot around here and there. These fields were so full that it seemed like they must have been purposefully planted there. Then I thought, why would people plant huge fields of daffodils? I'm not particularly poetic, but it was really beautiful.

RESULT- Latvia has knocked down India once in the first round, but India got back up ready to scrap. Two more knockdowns and it's a TKO. I already have some more contests in mind, but we need a commercial break....

Haiku Postcard

2007-05-21T03:03:00.000-07:00

I have no inspiration and am sharing a common hostel computer, so consider this haiku a replacement for a postcard.

life in a hostel
nine rank bodies in one room
wish hotels were cheap

Rigas Baby Rigas!

2007-05-17T09:05:00.000-07:00

2 hour layover at Frankfurt International. There is a casino in it. Tricky tricky. At least they have the decency to put a screen with departure updates in it. Well, I was going to pull some Euros out anyways cause I wasn sure about the ATM sitch in Latvia. With some frugal strategy, I pull down 100 Euro profit.

Get to Riga. First impression, itś like pick up all the super modern, step below Armani shops in an upscale mall, throw them high in the air and see where they land. Pretty cool architecture but it just seems like itś trying to hard to be fashionable. Tell you tomorrow.

Right across my hostel is a casino where everyone is dressed like a pirate and there is a life sized, pirate scene panorama reminiscent of Disney World. Tell me it doesn bring Swingers to mind. So I cash in 30 Lats (creative name) which is like 60 bucks. I say if I double it, Iḿ out. I double it and a little more and set apart he double it portion. Over time, I end up quadrupling it, but finish simply doubling it. The key is, I won and had the will to walk away before trying to recover my losses.

I saw this 80ś movie with Delta Burke- true story- where sheś totally addicted to slots and borrows all this dough from the childrenś foundation she works for. Sheś at the supermarket and starts freaking out when sheś in the produce aisle with the bananas, apples. Iĺl keep you updated and may have to set up my own donation fund.

S

We Ain't in Kansas Anymore, Vijay

2007-05-15T22:09:00.000-07:00

Hey, things could be worse. I arrived in Chennia yester-morning (Madras for my colonizer mates) and stayed overnight, departing for Latvia tonight at 1:45 AM. My hotel indicates a 24 hour checkout. Sweet, I'll just hole up in my room and watch 80's movies all day, emerge at 10 PM and go to the airport. Turns out 24 hours means 24 hours from when you check-in, which was 8:45 AM in my case. Alright, I'll spend the next day bopping round this metropolis. Not much bopping around when it's 43 degrees Celsius (around 107 Fahrenheit). I'm at the bottom of my wallet and don't really wanna pull out cash. There's a 7 dollar fee from my bank on international withdrawals and not sure how far the rupee goes in Latvia.

Long story short, I think I'm going to see Spiderman for the second time, lower myself to Night at the Museum as well, and pick up one more shirt, trousers, and like three more pairs of boxers. Good stuff.

On my way to this shopping center I saw vintage India in a 1 kilometer span. Here it is:
1. Something I'd heard about but never seen yet. A bus like ours in the States- 2 narrow doors, 1 in front one in back. But there's like 4 dudes hanging onto the door from the outside of the bus.
2. A "little person"/midget riding a modifed bike. Not really vintage India but trippy.
3. Chennai has something weird going on because most people were wearing helmets.
4. A dude pulling his bicycle barge of brightly colored plastic chairs.

And this is all at 43 degrees. Here I come 17 degrees and rainy Riga!

peace out

When Neither Life or Art Imitate Each Other

2007-05-12T23:57:00.000-07:00

This is something that's been bugging me. I would love some longer replies about this, especially from anyone whose nickname is one of a fish and has like 6 masters degrees in journalism and media.

The below "fashion" statistics were first consciously and diligently noted after I left Bombay, but I find it hard to believe that that whole city's numbers would be so schewed to the point where my question is moot.

Indian clothing: Definitely 95% or more of Indian women wear traditional Indian clothing. I know this because when I spot one wearing Western garb, I notice it as if she were a stock broker with an eyebrow piercing.

Mustaches: I think around 80% or more of men from 22 years and up sport just a mustache. Many often let their other fluff grow into a goat now and then, but inevitably tire of it and go back to that Kentucky look. From the days of old, mustaches have been considered a symbol of being a "real" man, whatever that means.

Bollywood: In the recent commercials, movies (of which I've only seen bits here and there), music videos, and TV shows (bits and pieces again) obviously coming out of Bombay, almost everyone wears Western clothing and all the men are clean-shaven like a baby's bottom or have some Brad Pitt, hip facial hair look going on.

Bombay is by far the biggest producer of TV/movie entertainment in India, and even the world. And it's obvious to me that this Bollywood stuff is saying that "our traditional appearances" are not appropriate for hip TV entertainment. The West is where it's at baby.

It would be understandable if it was certain, super Western influenced movies like the action blockbusters with tons of stunts, but we're talking EVERY single commercial, movie trailer, and soap opera I see has clean shaven men and women wearing, often quite sexy, Western threads.

But the people in everyday life aren't catching on. I mean even in most American movies the majority of characters look and dress like people you see everyday. So why is there such a huge gap here between what's on screen and the reality?

I smell thesis....

E. col(&)i

2007-05-12T05:18:00.000-07:00

Two months here and finally the food sickness I was so worried about and thought I had avoided struck.

WARNING: Slightly graphic material below.

I writhe in my bed, unable to sleep. My dinner sits heavily in my stomach, unwilling to digest. Sensing something might be wrong I immerse myself in some shite movie on TV to divert my attention.

A deep echo, like a quarter being dropped into an empty well, resonates from deep within my bowels. It is about 2 AM. The porcelain calls.

BLAST! OK, that wasn't plesant but it has happened before. Within the next 30 minutes about 5 more blasts occur and I realize some microscopic creep crawly is wreaking havoc in my guts. My first thoughts are of paranoia that I can still make my plane on the 16th without having to wear Huggies.

From 3 to 4 is like a scene out of Trainspotter, with me lying near the toilet on the cold, grimy floor of my bathroom, making sure that I am prepared to throw up if I have to.

I hate vomiting- I'm not in my heyday anymore- so I choke it down. I know that dehydration is the danger of diarrhea but I feel like if I drink any water I will chuck. Quite a dilemma.

I weather the storm and lie in my hotel room all day, still racked from last night. In my 3 some years total living and traveling in developing countries, I get "loosies" every now and then, but this is my first rapid-fire experience. If it was a one-shot deal only, does it mean I have a strong stomach or I'm just lucky?

I'm getting on that plane if I have to strap a boot-bag around my snout on the plane. Definitely a sign that it's time to go.

Philosophical Question

2007-05-12T05:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I forwarded an e-mail myself and I wrote myself a little message in it. I didn't know how to address it or sign it. What permutation of the following choices do you use?

Dear You/Me, Scott

.........

Love/Sincerely/Regards/See You(Me)Later,
You/Me/Scott

My Spidey Sense is Tingling- must be cause nothing else has tingled here

2007-05-07T08:20:00.000-07:00

I went to the theater for three nights in a row to get tickets for Spiderman 3. Sold out every time. The fourth time I went, the 10 rupee (25 cents) peon seats were the only ones left. Here's the scene waiting in line for a ticket. Running alongside the wall from the ticket window is a barred wall/cage packed to the brim with young men- different queue for the ladies. Thoughts of a South African football/soccer game were in my head. I was near the back of the line snaking out into the makeshift parking lot. They were on the cage but I felt like the animal at the zoo with the stares coming my way. I was talking to the gawkers near me with varying degrees of humor and temperament.

Look, everyone is completely allowed to see Spidey cause it's Spidey and an icon. But I don't think anyone I was yakking with in line spoke a word of English. But you know Shakespeare made his plays for the peons. I know Toby isn't exactly speaking like a Capulet, but maybe if he had than I would've gotten a ticket easier. I felt like going up and down the line giving the placement tests we used to do at my old schools. Fail and I get your spot in line. Oh, now I'm the asshole, right? Fair enough...I opted out on getting crushed in a box to sit 5 feet from the screen and went out for some beers...with me and my girlfriend- my iPod...

But I saw Spidey the next night and it was good enough. Going to movie in India is funny. There are no subtitles because there is no universal language- written or spoken. You always have people talking the whole movie to the people next to them- the best English speaker in the group translating for his friends I assume. At Spidey, the people all around me were yapping during the Oscar-worthy dialogue scenes and dead silent during the action scenes. Luckily there's no important conversations and all the words are three syllables or less so I could read their lips. My 14 hours bus ticket is booked to Chennai/Madras so I might be blogless for the next three days but check in anywho...

My iPod Is Running Away From Me

2007-05-05T01:33:00.000-07:00

I was listening to my iPod on song shuffle today. I have 871 songs but in the first 20, three were from the only Al Green album I have. Thoughts? Random or special meaning? Is my iPod telling me to become a reverend and wear skin tight sequin shirts with butterfly collars?

Planes, Trains, and Auto-rickshaws

2007-05-05T00:45:00.000-07:00

I went to buy a train ticket to the nearest major city with a airport today. Here's how you buy a ticket in India. You fill out a form with the info for your trip. You go to a token window where the lady stamps your form and gives you a number. then you wait until your number comes up and go to the right window. Then you buy the ticket. My "token" number was 599 and they were on 300 when I got there. Needless to say I left to go through a travel agent. Now I'm number 67 on the waiting list for a train that's in 1 week. I hope I don't have to fly from our little airport here or something messed up like that. I had heard before I came that India's train system was one of the best in the world. No, I think they said it was the biggest. Someone doesn't want me to leave here. If I can't get on that plane to Lativa on the 16th then you may hear of the first white guy to sacrifice himself to Vishnu in the Ganges....

Haiku-oo-oo-oos at 2030 VST (Visakhapatnam Standard Time)

2007-05-03T07:54:00.000-07:00

Sorry to totally nick your idea Cod, but I keep thinking in haiku to avoid hate.

Saw rat in rest'rant
Wasn't my first time at all
Think you would have left?

Stoked for East Europe
India has so few beers
Have tons over there

Haikus are 5 7 5
But this one happens not to be
Rules blow made this plus 3

Hollywood Reluctantly Comes to Tollywood

2007-05-01T04:03:00.000-07:00

What is Tollywood you ask? Well the language in this state of India is Telugu so I guess the folks here felt left out and wanted their own ....Wood. Wonder if East Africa's up and coming film industry is called Swollywood? Chillin with the big stars in Wollywood over in Wales?

With women having a virtual curfew here and beer confined to smoke and mosquito filled dens of people surrounding me asking where I'm from and if they can have a "souvenir" dollar, my evenings are spent in my hotel room. Animal Planet turns Hindi at like 10Pm. ESPN is British style and I don't quite fancy darts or snooker. So Pix and HBO are my best friends. Both are fairly behind in their selections and Pix is almost all 80's or before.

You know my CATWOMAN experience...WOW.

A couple nights ago was ZEBRAHEAD- one of those hyperbolic race movies a la Higher Learning from the early 90's. It was pretty cool, about a black girl and white guy (Michael Rapaport) going out and the crap they dealth with. It was a thinker, specially with the amount I think about race these days. Let's chat about it over a Kingfisher when I get back.

Two nights ago Pix dropped a gem with MIDNIGHT COWBOY- Jon Voigt and Hoffman- which won the 1969 Oscars but is a totally psychedelic flick. I fell asleep but I've seen it and it is sweet like peach pie, baby!

Yesterday I peeped HOUSE OF WAX. Should have been House of Whack cause it was and my IQ plummeted cause of it. Thank Vishnu Paris Hilton was in it for only like 10 minutes- enough to get into her panties and then get her neck slashed...Damn! Sorry if I ruined it for you.

Tonight there's a plethora of good flicks. We've got DUMB AND DUMBERER overlapping with 28 DAYS (Sandra Bullock- who is usually really annoying- seems in the trailer to put in a strong performance as a drunkard going into rehab)and then at 9:15 BATMAN BEGINS is on! Seen it. Sweet like Ruth. If you know Ruthie like I know Ruthie, you know that is Pepsi with 4 spoonfuls of sugar added sweet!!

Pathetic life now. But I'm out on the 16th. Flying into Riga in Latvia. Many adventures to come...peace

Pesci Strikes Again...

2007-04-29T02:10:00.000-07:00

...and not even women are safe.

Today I went down to the Indian version of those sidewalk stands in NY- often run by Indians- that sell gum and magazines. I bought 2 things of yogurt and was charged 10 rupees (25 cents). The package has a fixed price for all of India clearly printed on it- 4 rupees. I pointed this out to her, calmly, and asked for my extra 2 rupees change. She flat out said no, it's 5. I flat out lost my calm. I slammed down the yogurt and the change she had given me on the wooden plank counter and asked for my money back. She was baffled by this crazy white man going nuts over 5 cents. It ain't about the money anymore. Almost everyday, I have one very unpleasant experience directly and undoubtedly related to me being a foreigner.

In the end, she gave me the 2 rupees, but the guy standing next to me, who seemed loosely sympathetic to my cause shrugged and said "foreigner charge". I've been pondering this question. Is the Indian (or any other country with floating prices I've been to) vs. foreigner charge about taking us because we don't know the reasonable price? Or is it because we have more money and in some way they think since we can pay more we ought to or owe them in some way? People always tell me it's cause we don't know the correct price. But when this price was written on the damn carton I began to believe the "we're rich, we owe them" theory has a little more weight to it.

I am reading Gandhi's autobiography and he was a great man obviously. After I explode, I always scold myself and say that next time I'm going to handle it firmly but stoically. But when Gandhi was abused for riding on trains in South Africa or walking on the street after curfew, he would write letters to the proper authority. I don't know. If you post me a comment, tell me if I'm an asshole, have a valid point, am too sensitive, or whatever. peace out...

Random Haiku

2007-04-28T01:29:00.000-07:00

This is dedicated to my blog mentor...Cod. Sorry for nicking this idea from you mate but I thought of it as I was taking my 23rd shower of the day last night. Don't you think more of our homies should have blogs? We could share thoughts, talk smack, this and that.

Hot as friggin' hell

Don't know how they can live here

Sweat tits off daily

WEBMASTER!!!

2007-04-27T06:02:00.000-07:00

I have created my first web content for a site that is not my own. Did I put it up on the web myself? HEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLL no! That's what webby people are for. The link is on the left under "ADOPT THIS". Or you can see it here:

http://www.visakhaspca.org/sponsor/

It's not a plea for money- just wanted to show some of the tangible work I've done here. If you wanted to donate....it's a legit, 100% non-corrupt NGO.

Arrange This, Dad

2007-04-25T06:49:00.000-07:00

Arranged marriages are alive and well in India. Everyone will tell you, if you ask, if they had an arranged, or "love", marriage. And just like people think their way is the way it's being done all over the world, they have no idea that we don't arrange marriages.

You know all those dating internet sites endorsed by frauds like Dr. Phil? Well check out India Yahoo and instead of seeing E-date with the pulldown menus asking if you're looking for a woman or man and how old they are, they cut right through the crap and ask if you're looking for a bride/groom and what religion.

I was glancing through an English paper the other day and saw the classifieds. That bit of the classifieds for people looking for people who take walks on the beach or whatever. What's that called again? Well, their version is split into two major categories, bride or groom. Inside each are like 20 subdivisions for language and religion.

The funniest thing is that the parents- assuming the father, writes the ads, like "my daughter" so on and so forth. The ads specify whether they are looking for someone who is "veg" (vegetarian) or "non-veg". Side note: vegetarianism is a big deal out here. I think like 40-50% of the population is. Almost every restaurant's sign specifies "veg" "non-veg" "veg & non-veg" or "restaurent and bar". Other stuff I saw in the ads were either telling the caste or saying "caste/religion no bar". Took me a second to figure out they meant it didn't matter. My beer soaked head thought it meant that they preferred non-drinkers. And we laughed and laughed til we peed our pants....

The Birds and the Beasts

2007-04-22T23:36:00.000-07:00

Note: This post is dedicated to Steve Irwin..RIP...,
whose spirit will hopefully enter me to prevent my
hesitation with snakes in the future.

I saw "Catwoman" on HBO the other night. Man, Halle
Berry in that leather suit was the most woman I've
seen....by far....since I got to India a month ago.

Well, I am here for the animals after all, so let's
talk about the real ones in my life now. The first
day I got to the office, which is about 30 km from the
shelter, this cute ass dog with 3 legs comes barking
at me. My first thought was "Man, I'm working for an
animal shelter and every animal there is going to be
missing something." Turns out that about half or more
of the 75 dogs who live there permanently have some
kind of deformity or disease which prevent them from
being released into their old hood after being
spayed/neutered like most the dogs we take in.

Little Roo the 3 legged dog is an amazing little guy.
He has taught me a lot. I personally have never had a
close friend who was handicapped. But now, when I see
Roo, the only time I notice or even think how he's
missing a leg is when I pet him and run into his
stump. I imagine it would be the same with people. I
KNOW it is with race, trust me. I have faced that
everyday for most of the past 7 years. Once the
gawkers take a second to get to know me, I am no
longer an American or foreigner. I'm just a regular
fellow. Actually with most people it only takes one
meeting or two. But the two giggly girls my boss just
hired are having a little more difficulty getting used
to me. Anyway, they're probably already on the
"trading block" anyway. Please don't confuse this
if you are a non-sports fan reading this.
The term "trading block" is NOT a thing about slavery.
When a team wants to trade a player they say he's on
the trading block. Just to clear it up...

Back to the animals. My first visit to the shelter
went like this...You go in the gate and there's dogs
running all around. Pretty cool stuff. Our main
project with the dogs is to control the stray
population. We take in about 30 a day to get
vaccinated, sterilized, and released back where we got
them from. So I watched a dog get castrated. I
change the channel as soon as I can when I
accidentally hit the Discovery Health channel, too,
but this was pretty cool. Since then, I've seen a few
more castrations and a load of females gut cut and
tied, too. The doctors sit there and chat with me
while they snip away.

We've also got a cat house and started a snip, inject,
release program with them, too. We've also got some
600 cattle. The sacred cow is illegel to kill here,
so they are rescued from slaughter or inhumane
transportation conditions. Oh! and then we have some
monkeys. I don't think they know how to take care of
them properly- they feed them rice with yogurt- so I'm
doing some casual research and hope to consult them.

Then, we've got endangered star tortoises- saved from
poachers- and a bunch of birds gotten various ways.
Oh, cool bird story. One day we went around to pet
shops giving them the laws about selling puppies and
birds. While they were yapping in Telugu with the pet
shop manager, I peeped these birds laying on the
bottom of the cage kind of crawling around. I pointed
it out and we took them all back to the shelter.
Turns out some of the birds had had their legs chewed
up by rats.

Last story and I'm off to see Apocalypto- it's English
movie 'de semain' now but would never see it back
home. So the other day they seized a cobra from some
snakecharmers (which is illegal now in India). They
showed it to me in the pillow case they took it back
in. Just a little 6 footer, not a king cobra. They
asked if if I wanted to go and help them release it.
HELL YA! But then I saw we were going there on a
motorbike. If you know me, you know I ain't that
comfy on motorbikes. Add to that the manic Indian
traffic, and I almost forgot the cobra that would be
in my lap. Well, maybe next time. Peace out for now

The Living Ghost of Joe Pesci and Other Stories from the Fishbowl

2007-04-18T09:15:00.000-07:00

If you are reading this blog you are either:
a) my good friend
b) find this stuff pretty amusing
c) have nothing better to do
OR
d) want to follow the slow disintegration of a man's soul

In a past blog I told you I almost went Joe Pesci on a guy. Funny thing, like 3 nights ago I did go Joe Pesci on a guy. So I take this "auto-rickshaw" home from dinner. They're like a tuk-tuk if you've been to Thailand, or a juiced version of a golfcart, if you haven't. There's no meter, you negotiate the fare. They inevitable make the price higher for foreigners cause we don't know the true fare and have more money than locals. Now you're talking about quibbling over like 25 or 50 cents usually. But the money is not the point.

First of all, it's fun to haggle. Second, it's about the principal of being charged more because you're a foreigner. So I negotiate this guy down from 50 rupees ($1.25) to 30 rupees (75 cents). When we get to the hotel, I only have a 50 rupee note. He takes it and says "thank you" and makes like transaction is done. I shout in no uncertain terms that it was 30 rupees. So he gives me a 10 bill as change and something pops. If you know me, you know I'm not a fighter at all. If I'm the one who's got your back in a fight and your opponent is bigger, then run Forest run. I grab his collar and yank him halfway out of the rickshaw, which has open sides, so it's not some feat like pulling him through a car window. He says OK and gives me the proper change.

Man, Scott. You are on cheap mofo. But if you say it's only 50 cents than you are really making everything about money. Cause it ain't about money. It's about the principles. God, next time, I might really go Pesci on someone. Ever seen casino where he does that dude with the pen? I may have to gouge his eyes out with a 2 rupee coin but that's cool.

One more rickshaw story and I'm outtie like a newborn's belly button. I've got a solid set of rickshaw drivers around my hotel and office who know I'm hip to the true fare (even though an Indian would still go at 50% the price). So today the guy stops for gas on the way. No less than 8 of the station attendants crowd around the thing to gape at the white man inside. I swear that I can't remember a time feeling much more uncomfortable. It was like being an animal in the zoo. I was trapped.

Slowly going nuts...and it's quite pleasant....

Next entry let's talk about furry animals, OK?

Random Thought 9

2007-04-18T09:13:00.000-07:00

I want to start a moving company where all the vehicles are buses. I'm going to call it Bus-a-Move.

Randon Thought 8

2007-04-18T05:42:00.000-07:00

I'm going to put a peephole in my refrigerator door so I can see if the light really goes off when I close it.

Random Thought 7

2007-04-18T05:39:00.000-07:00

Basking Robbins should make ice cream for vegans made with mother's milk. I think Nipple Ripple is a fine name, don't you?

FELLOWship of the Singh

2007-04-14T08:00:00.000-07:00

First, we have to clear up any misunderstandings that might've come from previous postings. I do not think that Indians aren't fond of foreigners. In all the Asian countries I've been, there is something we can call a "white man awe meter" or something. A high reading on the meter means the average reaction to you as a foreigner (in my case, 30 year old man) makes you feel prett uncomfortable, while a low reading would mean you feel welcome and accepted. Everywhere in Asia, you have moments when the mercury is exploding out the top, but I think the average awkwardness is highest here. Recent examples are in order:
1) I go to a bar- which in previous blogs is explained as a restaurant with overpriced beer where women are basically barred from- and when I step into said bar I get swarmed. All the waiters are like 15 year old beers and the clientele stops to look at me like that scene in Swingers when they walk into that modeling party. Immediately, the words of an Eminem song hit my head, "You all act like you never seen a white person before. Jaws drop to the floor...." This happens everywhere, but these waiters- the younger and older- were hovering around me the whole time I drank my beer, trying to figure out what species of ape I was. I couldn't pay and leave quick enough. For one of the few times in my life- no tip.
2) My boss- the president of the NGO- goes into the bank to do some business. I am with him and when I walk in, fifty pairs of eyes look me up and down sushi chefs do a 150 pound tuna at the morning market in Tokyo. Twenty something year old guys in line, look at me, simultaneously point me out to one another and smile. They're not smiling at me, they're smiling about me. When girls do it, it's cute and admittedly flattering, but the guys just come off as punks.

Could be a little paranoid cause I been out of the Asian game for a bit. But Indians are the least fun-loving, even with each other, of any other Asians. By the fifteeth time being asked by genuinely kind people "Where is your country?", I start saying Iceland, Seychelles, or the ever laugh-inducing Pakistan. I need love and affection as much as the next but get over me already. Surely you've seen non-Indian people in movies before?

In a previous blog, I said you could smack the crap outta me if I started noddin my head from side to side. Ever the English teacher, I've been paying attention to how they use English. If I come back and start replacing the word "guy" or "dude" when talking about people in the third person with "fellow", you have written, documented permission to knock a tooth out. Same goes for if you introduce me to a friend of yours I don't know and after asking them their name I ask them what their "qualifications" (took me a while to figure out they wanna know what my degree is in) are. First time I was asked, I thought they were talking in relation to the job I'm doing here, so I answered "I don't have any. This is my first experience in animal welfare." And we laughed and laughed.....

Random Thought 6

2007-04-09T07:17:00.000-07:00

I am going to get a pet baby goat and name it Kid. I will become really healthy because we'll share heads of lettuce.

Random Thought 5

2007-04-09T07:16:00.000-07:00

If you were to have an arranged marriage, would you prefer your mother or father pick your spouse?

Random Thought 4

2007-04-09T07:14:00.000-07:00

Why are all those people claiming, or trying, to be "different" so similar to one another?

Randon Thought 3

2007-04-05T03:22:00.000-07:00

There is no God. Man must've created It. Many religions promise salvation only by praising their God(s) and/or obeying their wishes. This is how to gain a man's approval, too. If God is so much more perfect and humble than man, why do the same self-serving things please us both?

Random Thought 2

2007-04-05T03:20:00.000-07:00

Why do I close the door to go to the bathroom....when it's only myself and the dog at home?

Random Thought 1

2007-04-05T03:19:00.000-07:00

Why do people slow down when they're driving and see a police car.....who's already pulled someone over to give them a speeding ticket?

Wine Women and (lack of) Words

2007-04-02T07:58:00.000-07:00

Here are some of the impressions of India I wanted to put in my last blog but didn't have the time or mental capacity for.

WINE: Most of my traveling abroad has been by myself. Occasionally, I will meet someone at a hostel or on the main drag for backpackers. For a lone male in a foreign land, one often resorts to drinking at night. Beats going back to a shite room, reading the one English book you have and don't wanna finish too quickly for lack of knowing when or where the next one will come from. Sometimes you get a fuzzy English channel on TV, like the British version of ESPN that they have in Asia. No offence to my UK mates, but cricket and darts can't keep me from going out and getting pissed on my lonesome. Alcohol isn't widely sold and Indians don't seem to drink much. I've heard of that firewater in the villages that makes you go blind, but I'm not there and ain't messing with it anyhow. The only real 'go to have drinks' pubs are in the major cities. Otherwise, it's two stores, often with different doors, but side by side, advertised "Bar" and "Restaurent" (no typo on my part). You can order food from the restaurant while in the bar but not vice versa. Doh! Foiled again. If you come over and find a woman in one of these places, then I'll reimburse your ticket and one week's loss of income. I'm not implying that if there were some birds in there I would smoothly slide my white ass over to the table and spin some "exotic" foreigner, "So do you study English?" game, but....It's a stunningly weird sensation to be in a bar with 20-30 customers, all men, all at separate tables, and nodding your head to the latest Bollywood soundtrack or trying to figure out how many overs and wickets Sri Lanka needs to win match 9 against England in the Cricket World Cup. At a bar, eye candy is tastier than salty nuts. This brings me to my next insight...

Women: Don't be thrown off. This is not a diary of any skirt chasing escapades or conquests. A gentleman never kisses and tells. It's a social commentary. You are all familiar with the notion of the Japanese woman's place in a society dominated by men. Actually, it's not THAT bad if you don't compare it to Western standards and especially the Middle East- from what I've read. A quick list of some superficial observations and you can make your own judgement whether they're positive or negative. 1)There are "women only" cars on local trains, HOWEVER they can ride in the other cars, too. 2) You will almost never see an Indian girl/woman alone outside doing anything. The exception is street hawkers and beggars. 3)In a pamphlet for the organization I work at, in praising the volunteers, it says "and many of our volunteers are women, which shows how brave they are to go and work outside the home." 4) Married women get the notorious "Hindu dot", for everyone to see plain and clear. Men don't have anything so explicit. Very few men have dots but I think it's a branch of one of the religions. 5) Lastly, at the interstate train station, foreigners, VIP's, handicapped people, and women have a special ticket window. I think women can buy anywhere, though. I was standing in line and these two women cut right in front of me- see BLOG #1 for info on line ettiquette. I protested, going off the handle a bit and asking if that's how you mind a queue here. Her answer was "Real quick! I give him this paper." Five minutes later I told her she was rude as she left and she pointed to the fact that this window was for ladies, and "Ladies first in India!" Read my hands as they make a "W" on my forehead, standing for a big, fat 5 year old "What--Ev--Er!"

(lack of) Words: First a shout out to my fellow ESL teachers who are intimate with Raj from the Blue Book. Ode to the power of cross cultural misunderstandings from body language. For example, in Asia when you want to beckon someone, it's hand out with palm down and move your fingers towards yourself. In the US, it's palm up, point and call them over with a finger or two. I have never lost the Asian way and have minor problems at home. So the Indians have this thing where instead of nodding their head to answer "Yes", they do this Bobblehead thing. It's like nodding side to side by moving your ears towards your shoulders. It is SO close to looking like a head shake "No". It can ALSO just show that they are listening to you, whether they understand you or not. I have had 5 minute conversations with people, me talking, them doing the bobblehead thing, just trying to figure out whether it means yes, no, or that they can hear me. If I come back and start doing this, you have full permission to slap my head as hard you can to stop the bobble. I had some more stuff but will filter it, let it percolate, and give it to you cup by cup. peace...

Fisher Price- My FiRsT bLoG

2007-03-31T06:24:00.000-07:00

Note: This post is dedicated to Anh- a stronger man for his family than I could even strive to be- who shared one of the craziest 2-3 month (it was supposed to be 1) adventures of my life with me.

So for those of you who don't know, I am in India volunteering at a wildlife NGO/animal shelter. I came 2 weeks ago for a little travel time and am leaving on a train in a couple hours to go the city I will work in.

Let me start backward with an aside about this train. About 4 hours ago, I was reading Gandhi's autobiography, which I picked up at the Gandhi museum in Bombay. I just finished the part about when he was taking a train in South Africa and was told to go to 3rd class even though he had a 1st class ticket, just because he was a "coolie" (South African derogatory name for Indians back in the day). My man refused and was kicked off the train...So I get on my scheduled train and find my seat and there's a guy in it. I ask him is seat number and he says it is the same as mine. I show him my ticket and he says my ticket is a waiting list ticket and I have to take a different one. Turns out he was just lying to me because he wanted to sit with his family, I guess. I'm not saying it was just because I was a foreigner, but.....We'll get to that later. The very kind station master reserved a seat for me on this later train, which arrives at 4 AM instead of 9 PM.

India is very big so these two weeks haven't been enough time to get to the real attractions of India that I would've wanted to see- like the "pink" and "blue" cities in Jaiphur and Jodphur and a kind of obscure temple with 20,000 sacred rats running around. I'd like to visit the rat temple because I think it would help me conquer my instinctual squeamishness about rats.

Here are some really generalized first impressions. I have been to Bombay, Calcutta, and a couple national parks which weren't too impressive as the really endangered animals didn't show their faces. Guess that's because they're endangered?

1) India is not so crowded as I imagined with a billion people. It's just that people live everywhere. There were some villages I passed when going through one of the national parks. In the saddest slum I have ever seen- one of the, if not the, biggest in the world, people's sideboard and corrugated iron walk-in closet sized shacks were stacked 2 high.

2) The amount of vehicles and craziness of traffic makes up for the feeling of some space. When I'm in a cab, I keep my eyes open because I want to know how to best throw myself out of the vehicle should we hit another. Taking long distance buses are even crazier. There are no four lane highways. Vehicles are constantly playing chicken to pass each other in the face of oncoming traffic. Crossing the street is like playing Frogger drunk. When the little man is red at the intersection, New Yorkers inch into the street to see when they can dart across. Here, the little man doesn't correspond with the actual stoplights. People kind of amble into traffic to make the cars slow down or swerve around them to cross. I am dreading leaving this internet cafe in 15 minutes because it's now dark and I have to cross. Their vehicles can't really hit more than 45 mph if that's any consolation.

3) I've been to many countries in Asia where being white means you are pegged as a foreigner right away. The status of the white devil differs in different places, but that would be a dissertation and has no place here. Overall there seems to be a higher percentage of Indians who are rude to me than in other countries. When walking down the street in smaller cities, I get stared at up and down. This happens everywhere in Asia, but here it's more intense and they don't stop looking. It's like they want to see what the white man will do next. I almost went Joe Pesci the other day. This guy was just staring at me and I went up to him- much calmer than Pesci- and the conversation went something like this. Bear in mind that he didn't speak English, so all these lines are my own.
Me: Hi, Can I help you?
Me: Oh, you were looking at me so I thought you wanted something.
Me: Do you want to talk?
Me: Come on, don't look at me if you don't want something. It's rude.
Me: Have a nice night.

I'm entitled to a casual flip-out every now and then. But I think I need to hit this Gandhi book a little harder. I don't know if Indians are rude to each other because I can't overhear them. It's kind of a " if a tree fell in the forest" situation. But in the big cities, they do push you aside a lot when walking and have no regard for lines at ticket counters. Oh, and they have signs in places that say "No Spitting". People always hock away with hardly a glance if they're going to moisten someone. It's that red betel nut stuff, but also spitting the black globs out that form with tons of pollution, I think.

Well...I have some more things I'd like to say but I want to eat before this train so more later on the status of women and other hot topics.