LETTERS & POSTCARDS II

Islamabad To Xian


Introduction
Pet Peeve Pakistan
India Insights
Numb In Nepal
China: Going For Broke







Introduction

The following pages are fragments of postcards and letters dated November 1994 to August 1995, from my first trip overseas. Rather than repetitiously type many of the same experiences, stories and ideas over and over (which were initially mailed to different people in a variety of countries), I have picked select passages and/or condensed the material to make more of a flowing 'story' out of it all.

In some places I have added words to provide better context (like when combining two text sources together); but for the most part I wanted to leave it alone. So if you come across a sentence, paragraph or an idea that isn't well written -- so what. That's the way I want it -- rough around the edges.



Pet Peeve Pakistan

November 20, 1994
Postcards to Roger & Violet Candow
Lahore, Pakistan

After staying in Islamabad for four days, I took in the Buddhist site remains of Taxilla for a day, set up camp in Islamabad for another eleven days, then migrated and moved into to the Lahore Salvation Army Hostel for eight days. Things went smoothly here, no drugs were planted on me, no jail term and/or fines. The city had some beautiful mosque work and gardens. The Old City, no more than a couple of square kilometers, kept me busy for three days just in itself.

After Lahore my buns went to Multan, famous for its Sufi shrines and other saints. I made a conversation compilation which looks something like this. I call it The Pakman :

"Psssttt! Pssssttt! Anglais! Hello! Hello! Come and have some tea, a cola? Anything you wish. I am at your service. You are a guest in my country. What is your country? Your name? What is your profession? Are you a student? What is your qualifications? What does your father do? What is your father's name? What are you doing here? Tourist? ONLY a tourist? ONLY a traveler? You have friends? You are alone? ONLY one? What is your place? Hotel? What hotel? What room number? How many brothers? How many sisters? How old are you? How old are they? What do they do? How long have you been in Pakistan? ONLY?
We have four provinces in Pakistan (the history lesson commences; cities, expected itineraries...) If you like I could show you my town. I speak little English. With you I can practice my English. Can you speak Urdo? Punjabi? Peshto? ONLY English?
Excuse me, are you a man or a woman? Oh. Why do you have long hair? Here only women have long hair. I competed in (something) and I am number one in my town (my eyes are wandering by now, boredom oozing ...) Pakistani women are beautiful James? Do you like sex? I like the fucking very much (interesting comment as all women are hidden away). But here no fuck. I want to leave Pakistan, can you help me? How do I get a visa for Canada? Money? Friends in Canada? Can I have your address? Will you write to me?
I like you very much James, you are my friend. What is your religion? Christian? Are you Muslim? Searching? What is a searching? I do not understand. What do you think of Pakistan? What do you think of the people? What do you think of my town? (as we enter it on the bus) Do you live in Toronto? Montreal? I have two uncles in Toronto. They are businessmen and very rich.
What is Toronto like? You have never been there? Canada is very cold isn't it? Are you married? How many girlfriends do you have? Single? Why? Ahh, but you know the 'banging' don't you? Will you come with me to my house? Will you stay in my house? Can I go with you walking? May I have my photo with you? You are saying no to me? You do not need my help? OK. But here is where I will be, it is very near to your hotel. If you need my help, I can be reached here. You are angry? Are you angry with me? OK. Goodbye. You are very smart James, I like you very much ..."

Oh, believe me there are days when I don't want to get out of bed. Between this, meeting tens upon tens of people and answering the same questions over and over, and having to wait 5.5 months (and still counting) for my Indian visa, you could say my patience has expanded beyond what I thought to be possible.

Anyways, Multan was fun once I wrapped up my hair and put it inside my shirt again. That one question -- "Are you a man or a woman?" equals "What is your country?" in frequency. I am amazed I have not crushed somebody's *#@^*~ skull because of it. By my use of language I think you can see I'm genuinely torqued.

To the town of Bahawalpur. I used it as a base to visit the Derawar Fort in the middle of the Cholistan Desert. Luckily I met the right string of fellows, got permission from Prince Abbasi himself (I think this guy owns 1/10 of Pakistan), and hired a bud to take me out to the Fort by motorcycle. Beautiful piece, man. It had these massive bulging bastions; the Fort was square in design, with mosque, generations of Abbasi family tombs and a small town all surrounding a lake. The pictures of it are tres cool.

Onto the town of Uch Sharif and more Sufi shrines, both lame and exquisite. Heading back up towards Islamabad I checked out another city of the Indus Valley civilization, Harappa. The site itself was much less impressive than Moenjodaro, but the museum had a unique burial scene.

And ah! Rohtas Fort! This massive piece built in the 16th century. Awesome architecture that had me bolting in and out of gates, mosques, up and down towers and bastions for five hours.

Coming into Islamabad, the Indian consulate told me to "come back in a week". (groan) Back to the countryside I went. A couple more Sufi tombs, old Hindu temples, yesterday I had a tour of the second largest salt mine in the world, located in Khewra. Seventeen levels, fifty feet of earth between each level. It employs 3000 people. This one chamber was 235 feet high.

The walls were all transparent salt, so when the guide held up his flashlight to the wall -- pinks, whites, reds lit up a couple feet in each direction. The men had built a salt brick mosque on level six of the mine and installed lights in the walls of the mosque. Four thousand feet into the mine to have this multi-colored mosque lit up in surrounding darkness.

I'm back in Islamabad again sleeping on this lovely concrete floor because the Youth Hostel across the way is full till the 23rd (groan). But! (smile), Mr. Garg of the Indian consulate is back from his three week holiday and maybe, just maybe, I may have a visa within the week. He hasn't promised me anything, but he said he'll see what he can do. What can I do except beat my head against the wall?

I found this great mud village today buried in the cover of the trees. It's amazing to be walking down a street filled with these rich peoples' homes and then to stumble across the ordinary folk. I can't quite put the two together yet. I can comprehend the rich when there is only rich folks around. I can comprehend the poor when only the poor people are around. But when I'm walking in the rich shopping markets-sectors of the city and this bedraggled kid-mother come up to me asking for one rupee (3 US cents) -- it gets confusing. All of Pakistan's images flood back into my mind.


India Insights

January 6, 1995
Letter to Fulya Abkulak
Rishikesh, India

If I told you I had solved the meaning of our existence, would you believe me? … December 2 was when I arrived and checked into Yoga Niketan, a complex to study, learn meditation and yoga, and to retreat from the world. I quite like it here. There is no noise to deal with, no problems. Just a lot of time to do some hard thinking in silence.

It's paying off tremendously for me. Disciplining myself (to think) is giving me intense understanding and a lot more freedom. How long will I stay? For as long as I want to I guess. You are allowed to come and go as you please. And I have so much work to do, so much to read and write, that I will probably be here for at least another month.

There are tons of monkeys to watch -- they are so strange sometimes! They bounce off walls, scale down pillars, turn on taps to drink water, tear up garbage bags, beg for food at the kitchen, vigorously shake trees, madly chase one another around the gardens. Ah, they are absolutely insane!

They are quite violent to one another too. The big males are always trying to beat up the smaller ones. Really nervous, their heads spin in all directions to identify all sounds. But I guess when your buddy jumps on you every chance he gets, I'd be paranoid too. When they feel threatened by a human they make the stupidest intimidation faces to try and scare you away. The best monkeys though are the babies. Maybe only two handfuls in length, they go around talking in squeaks, hanging on to mom as she jumps from building to building, tree to tree.

Every few days a battalion of monkeys sweep through the gardens leaving broken springboard branches and half-mulched trees scattered along pathways. The gardeners fight with rocks and lots of harsh Indian words but it doesn't do any good. The critters just wait for us when we are alone to get their revenge. I have had a few confrontations with them, and I am surprised more people do not receive teeth marks.

Some of the local kids spend time on a nearby suspension bridge that crosses the Ganges, and they sell chappatti (bread) balls to the foreigners to feed the huge fish in the river. One day as a group of us were crossing over the bridge to go and listen to an American swami (teacher), we saw this little boy crying. When asked what was wrong, he pointed up to the sky. Way up on the suspension cables sat a monkey eating a bagfull of chappati balls. One girl gave him a small donation to make up for his loss.


January 7, 1995
Letter to Christa Prusskij
Rishikesh, India

I finally received my visa and made it into India on November 26, 1994. First I went to Amritsar, the holy city for the Sikh religion. People can stay right on the temple grounds -- they have a huge apartment complex. For one's room -- whatever a person wants to donate, this is what they pay.

The Golden Temple, as it is called, is centered in a big square 'lake' with a walk way leading out to it. The original copy of their holy book the Granth Sahib, written by ten famous Sikh Gurus, is the main showpiece.

I stayed in Amritsar for 4 or 5 nights I think. I liked it because nobody bugged me about my long hair. In all the Muslim countries I was bugged a lot about my hair, but with Sikhs they all have long hair. So I was not thought abnormal or 'queer' in any way to them (unlike the Muslims). Quite the opposite. Sikhs, both men and women, expressed genuine friendliness towards me because of my long hair and its special significance in their religion.

From Amritsar to Chandighar, a city built by a French designer, just like the planned city of Islamabad -- neatly constructed squares and sectors. I stayed here only two nights, enough time to build up my courage to come to Rishikesh and enter a Hindu ashram, or retreat. The whole town is nothing but ashrams, so if I ever get sick of this one I'll look at the thousands of others spread all over India.

For two hours a day a person can meditate with a group, for another two hours do yoga exercises with a teacher. Plus whatever an individual wants to do on their own. Me, I spend a lot of my time in my 'office'. I am compiling all the ideas of my life into a work I call 'Paper II'. This alone keeps me so busy that I purposely and sneakily avoid the yoga and meditation classes to concentrate on what I think is more suitable for me.

Perhaps some day, once I have my arguments down in a clear, concise manner, and if they are good, I will come to talk about them. But now because I do not have it all synthesized, it would do me or anybody else little good to discuss them.

I don't even talk that much anymore. I can't! So, away from my Paper, I spend the moments of free time I make for myself watching monkeys, birds, ants, butterflies, bugs, and the fish in the Ganges. Besides, everyone around here is too strange. A lot of people are so busy trying to find their 'self' that they overlook all reason and logic.

To me, because we are beings which demand a reason for something, I think Truth should be logical, according to law. This is one of the main messages in my Paper, I guess. So instead of trying to silence my thoughts, I am going to think more! Phooey to Hinduism. Phooey to Buddhism. With that said, maybe you will understand when I say I would rather talk to monkeys than 'my teachers', ants rather than raves and rants, fish instead of gibberish.


January 7, 1995
Letter to Gary Yoshida
Rishikesh, India

Dear Gary ( & Robin),

Hey! How! Ho! Hi! It's Sunday morning and we're comin' at you live from Rishikesh, India ...

Yes, that's right Vancouverites (?), from India itself -- "Anything that moves, we'll worship it." A wealth of weirdness in which nobody stands out. I saw the muppets playing tag in the street the other day.

What am I doing? Trying to become one with the 'self' of course. I'm tucked in a Hindu ashram, experimenting with meditation and yoga … I don't mind this part of it, but when the teachers start babbling on about how I am God I raise my brow.

I even tried to tell the meditation swami (teacher) another definition of 'God' but he kicked me out of the class for not having faith in him -- "Ahhh, that's okay, go ahead and dissolve into the Supreme Self buddy !!!" I tell you, these morons are as stubborn as I am. "Oh yeah? Well my idea of nothingness is better !!!"

I guess I have too much ego for my own good. I'm bound to be reincarnated as a radioactive dust particle if I'm not careful.

Nevertheless, I have come to have some profound insight -- not because of this environment totally, mainly because of the last year's experiences which have all steamrolled in one universal theory that I am calling "Paper II".

BUT, as I cannot yet disclose such valuable and strategic information, there is little I can say about it. The arguments must be mixed according to strict measurement if this philosophical recipe of practical life is to taste scrumptious and appeal to the eyes … to give you a few pieces of it could do great damage … bear with me comrades, this world will come to be conquered through the music of the universal symphony yet -- it is inevitable

I'll go into the details of this ashram, which resembles a Buddhist monastery except it is Hindu.

NEWS CLIPPING

For 2 1/2 greenbacks you too can have your very own private headquarters to survey the world from. Yes folks $2.50 US a day, your own apartment with bathroom and office cubicle, three all-you-can-eat vegetarian meals a day, and more monkeys than you could ever love right in yer backyard.

There's nothin' that's missin' from such an offer -- we got the Ganges river a few hundred meters away, loaded with monster fish you can feed chappati (bread) balls to from the suspension bridges. You can't fish though. THIS is holy land folks -- no meat eatin' barbarians around here. You can kill yer friends and yer family, but ya gotta love cobras, cows, and fish …

The daily schedule of the ashram looks like this …

ASHRAM SCHEDULE

Time Event
5:00 AM
5:30 AM -- 6:30
7:00 AM -- 8:00
8:15 AM
12:00 PM
4:00 PM
4:30 PM -- 5:30
6:00 PM -- 7:00
7:15 PM …
9:00 PM -- 9:30 …
Morning wake-up bell
Morning meditation
Morning yoga
Breakfast
Lunch
Tea time
Evening yoga
Evening meditation
Dinner, supper … whatever …
Zzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ...

What is required for entry? Well, as an ashram is entirely built for the people's education, you are free to come and go as you please. All we ask, if you stay here, is to attend the meditation classes without fail, and on your own time try to construct the most comprehensive universal theory to explain all of existence. We got Hawking over in that bungalow, Einstein's reincarnation over there -- but we're still lacking the unifying piece. Come on down folks, to the Yoga Niketan complex. What have you got to lose? A life that is already to be lost?

Yeah, so you get the idea of the place. By the way, this is me again, not a propagandist. I entered India November 26, 1994 after three months in Pakmanland. Yeeesh, I was glad to finally bail outta there. At least here in Hindustan you can melt into the crowd and no one bugs you.

I entered 'retreat' December 2, and have been here ever since. How long I plan to stay is beyond me. Till I can't do any more work here on Paper II I guess. But the way things are comin' now, I could be here for awhile. At least another month. I am even considering coming back to Canada early to complete the Paper …

What else has been happening? Not much really. My writing takes up 99% of my life, and if I can't talk about it, I have nothing to say … dig? The other 1% is basic stuff -- breathing, eating, sleeping, etc. Though I personally find such processes fascinating, I won't go into explanatory mode about them. Cus this 1% comes around full circle back to the 99% … and well … you get the idea …

Well, I thought it was due to drop a line. I gotta move on now … Keep holding the fort down till the reinforcements come. This freelance surveying is a dangerous business. I only hope I don't stumble into infinity, 'cause then I won't have any limits to grab onto to pull myself out …

With that said, Take care gents, Till next time …


January 7, 1995
Letter to Senem Diskaya
Rishikesh, India

(In retrospect) I am quite exhausted of Pakistan. People rarely leave a tourist alone, and if they are not being friendly (with the non-stop 'tourist conversation'), then they are deliberately bugging you. It is very irritating, especially for me because I like to be alone and watch things. In Pakistan I was always the one being watched.

I am extremely glad to be in India now where no one watches me. I am free to study … and nobody ruins my solitude. … to retreat from the world. Which is why I am here (Rishikesh). There are too many distractions in the world to think effectively, too much noise. Here it is peaceful and I am getting a lot of work done. … Things are becoming clearer for me to understand.


January 7, 1995
Letter to Michelle St. Aubin
Rishikesh, India

Everything I have ever come into contact with is fitting into one universal theory. The whole world looks so different. I even feel a stranger to the way I look because how I look no longer matches the way I think. It's getting hard to control the ideas, to keep focused and find each one's place in the outline. As soon as I find solid ground, the earth opens up to present something more. The process is infinite. Though at some stage I'm going to have to present what I have come to see eventually. Such is my problem in life. (gee, sure wish for a submarine sandwich and a slurpee right now).


January 7, 1995
Letter to Kris Mohn
Rishikesh, India

Pakistanis are crazy man. If the Pakmen get the bomb I'm taking the first shuttle off this planet -- they're going to throw around these power pills and try to eat as many ghosts as they can. For they're totally paranoid that everybody is out to get them. Trapped between American and India, about to be crushed into nothingness by two infidel states, so they strike up peace with atheist China. Go figure. "These are … the days of our lives." Bloody soap opera this world is, and a real bad one.

Should I be like my Indian teacher and go into a big state of denial? "Ah, it's all an illusion. Stop thinking, and you will enter bliss." Sorry buddy, but if I stop thinking I'll only be dead.

… as I am gaining a stricter level of disciplining over my mind …


January 8, 1995
Letter to Denise W
Rishikesh, India

What have I learned from the Hindus? "I never have been. I am not. I never will be." Believe it or not, we've got maybe a billion people on this planet who think this way.

Am I buying all this talk that these 'enlightened' swamis (teachers) have to say? Some of it, of course, makes sense. But when they start talking about articles of faith and they can't prove it to me, I am told just to "believe" -- and this is where I stop believing. So hey, if any person tells you to stop thinking, find a new friend …


January 17,1995
Unsent letter to Charles Barry
Rishikesh, India

In the Islamic environments there is no wide availability of alcohol. There are no women to casually date. There are no nightclubs. No drugs. No propaganda pushing these items. In short, I was allowed to begin my withdrawal from these items. I was allowed to clear my mind and begin thinking for myself. As I was traveling alone, I had more than enough time to think.

There is one thing I will always remember in Istanbul, and that was going to see the movie Schindler's List in the theater. At the end of the movie a sense of guilt swept over me the likes I had never ever felt in my life. -- (quote) "If I would have sold this car … I could have saved a few more … had I sold this ring … this ring alone … one more life … I could have done more."

I realized then, in the clearest way, so long as I chose to turn my back on Justice I was responsible for every crime committed against humanity by humanity. I saw there is only one road to peace. So I renewed my word (from Greece) and declared all out Holy War -- not on the world -- but on myself. The spiritual Jihad.

Of Iran. Here was a classic case of a people intensely rallying for change, managing to overthrow the government in 1979, setting up a leader the people admired -- and ultimately getting more than they bargained for.

If an individual cannot lead himself, then he will be led. And by no means can this individual complain, for he/she has authorized or opened the way for another to lead them. Men will incessantly bitch about their governments, blaming everyone else for their troubles, but they will never turn to blame themselves. Men would rather die than face up to their own failure.


January 31, 1995
Fragments of a Letter to Ann & Glen W
Rishikesh, India

I consider my Paper II to be more of a synthesis -- a synthesis of all the ideas input into me: my life experiences, the material I've read and the journals I've written.

There is infinite beauty to be found within the parameters of law.

(All things being connected) My conduct ultimately shapes a world through the people of my immediate environment.

In my model of the universe I believe that energy creates energy, so that this universe will infinitely expand.

The way I have come to see the world in the last while is beyond anything I ever dreamed of a few years ago.

I have been repeatedly asked in 14 months time: "Do you not get homesick?" This question causes me to wince. As I wrote to a friend in Istanbul, "I have built my home in my mind, so I can never accidentally lose it like a car or compact disc. All that I have and all that I need is with me at all times while traveling. As this is the case, how can I get homesick?"

If there is one thing I have learned in my life it is not to be so attached to external things. That is, my toys broke, my dogs died, my family split, and my relationships ended. So I implemented a revolution and built inside of me instead. (This is not to say I do not care -- and I hope one can see this by my writing.)


February 27, 1995
Letter to Ann & Glen W
Rishikesh, India

Ah!! Words, words, words. This entire earth and universe of energy is like play-dough, waiting to be shaped into form with our very hands -- Lego to be constructed into innumerable things, curlers to stick on cushions, and yes, even highways and Star Wars bases to build and live out endless figurine and toy car interactions. This is the way I see reality. Exquisite creation everywhere. Is it not? I can frolic in the flowers -- or, all I have to do is sit on my bottom and watch it all happen.


March 9, 1995
Fragment of a Letter to Denise W
Rishikesh, India

Look! Now I am a wizard, in my hand reigns fantastic power --
Pure energy streams from my fingers to write seeds which will flower …
Did you know? Could you conceive? How much there is to see!
I have touched infinity, and infinity is me.


March 9, 1995
Letter to Jakolien Steenkamp
Rishikesh, India

The future? I will probably stay here in Rishikesh until my visa expires, which is May 22, then head north I guess. South is a no-no because the monsoon will be just starting up. After seeing the damage it did in Pakistan last summer, I don't want to hang around to dance in the rain. Maybe Nepal, into China via Tibet, to Beijing, down to Hong Kong … Vietnam? Laos? Thailand? Who knows. I certainly never expected to see a fraction of what I have already seen, so I can't at all predict what lies in store on the road.

There, you have an outline of the past 14 months in the life of a Canadian fellow tramping through the world. Or, if you will, though 'his mind' (as the world is a reflection of our minds) -- and thinking that he is actually finding his way out of this labyrinth humanity has constructed for itself.



Numb In Nepal

May 23, 1995
Unsent Letter
Pokhara, Nepal

I departed Rishikesh on April 25, spent five days in Dharamsala, nine days in New Delhi, nine days in the mountains of Manalli, and then 68 hours non-stop to get to here by bus, taxi, train, jeep, and more buses: Pokhara, Nepal is where I am pilgrim. Get this: The Billy Bunter Restaurant stares at me from across the street, Dik's Café is around the corner. The Eyeball Hotel is close by. I tell you, we're getting a little desperate in the tourist trade out here. … I've been here for three days.

I've been trying to integrate the Ego into my personal philosophy right now, so I'm having a tough time keeping it together under the strain of balancing the tensions and counter-thrusts. It's a good fight I have got going on.

If there has been one consistent thing throughout this whole trip, it is best portrayed by Martin Sheen in Apocalypse Now. Remember at the beginning of the show he is in his room, lying on his bed zombied, up overhead that ceiling fan spins and spins and spins. That's it. I can't write it any better than that. Just lying on a bed, white sheets crumpled underneath a river of sweat, staring, staring.

It's strange to think that I will have to come 'home' within a year. This seems to be all I can solidly remember -- traveling. Well, I can't even call it traveling, but just living this way.

I'm feeling a little disconnected.

Look at me now: a spotlessly clean hotel, a double room all to myself, private bathroom, room service, laundry service, bike rentals, canoe rentals -- whatever. For three bucks.


May 27, 1995
Unsent Letter
Pokhara, Nepal

In Dharamsala, home of the exiled Dalai Lama of Tibet, it was pretty interesting to look at the Tibetans. Out of all the peoples I've seen so far while traveling they remind me most of North American Indians. When I first bit into Tibetan bread the morning I arrived I thought I had bitten into Grandma's bannock. I camped in Bhagsu, a small village out of Dharamsala, higher up in the hills. Took splashes in freezing spring-water pools in a nearby temple.

In Delhi I picked up my Chinese visa, bought some clothes, ate lots of French fries and ice cream sundaes. I didn't even bother to browse through half the city's monuments and museums. 'Tourism India' will be another time. This time it was for personal study.

Then back to the mountains, squeezing through the valleys into the town of Manalli. After a few days of being there, I found out there was a three day party going to be taking place. I attended the first night, after hiking a couple hours into the hills and trees. They had hauled this huge speaker system up there. It was wonderfully loud, had an earthen dance floor, tens of fires burning. The locals cooked us eggs, made us sandwiches, sold water, apple juice and tea. I descended the hills the next day and bought a copy of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead. I had just finished her We The Living before that.

I'm currently into her novel Atlas Shrugged. She holds a very convincing argument. She knows what she wants. I like this woman.

I left India around May 20. So ended six months of study and brain-stretching. My visa in Nepal is good for one month, till June 18. Though it is easily extendible. A dollar a day keeps the police away.

Yeah, so I figure if all else fails, I'll move to India, convert to Islam, buy me four Danish girls and write Hellfire poetry for a living. What do you think? Sound like a plan? Is the idea marketable? And should I sell stock?


June 7, 1995
Unsent Letter
Kathmandu, Nepal

I sometimes wonder how I get to places like these. How many buses and trains can one take before losing all sense of orientation? Numb as jello.

After months of battling 'savage mental monsters', wrestling with 'infinity', classifying energy clumps, trying to integrate a logical code of morality, swimming in oceans of books, etc., it all came to a close April 25. Four and 3/4 months of study. Sitting here in this restaurant with my bottle of Atlas Premium Aqua Superior, American movie on the television, I wonder -- did it really happen?


June 14 , 1995 (approx)
Postcards to Fulya Abkulak
Katmandu, Nepal

I've been exhausting my muscles the last few days in the Katmandu valley, renting a bike and darting though city sectors, finding temples and whatever else looks startling.

Hopefully, in 36-48 hours I will be perched on the roof of the world, Tibet, and then continue on into the heartland of China …

My philosophy of life (Paper II ) … I'm hoping the communists (of China) won't confiscate it and send me to jail for being a pro-capitalist pig.


June 14, 1995 (approx)
Postcards to Ron W
Katmandu, Nepal

As for my personal philosophy, it has become much more integrated than the slop you read in Paper I back in 1993. Ayn Rand, a novelist, has a philosophy that has turned my head sideways, slamming self-less world religions and asserting that the ego is the fountainhead of human progress. I like it! As I wrote to a group of friends in Pakistan, "This woman has stolen my mind; and gentlemen, that's the best foreplay a man could ever ask for."


June 14, 1995 (approx)
Postcards to Arif (Pakistan)
Katmandu, Nepal

Keep thinking: in thought is truth.


June 14, 1995 (approx)
Postcards to Michelle St. Aubin
Katmandu, Nepal

Why bother thinking when there is faith? Yes, I am slamming world religion. The mind is not too highly valued out here in the big world.



China: Going For Broke

August 14, 1995
Letter to Christa Prusskij
Luoyang, China

I'm on the train right now heading for Xian city …

I left Rishikesh on April 25 … saying goodbye to a spectacular five months. Thinking on it now, it will really be something for me to return there in a couple of years. Not only did it prove to be the generating site of my Paper, but I feel it was the time of my greatest 'phoenixing' to date. A tremendous push into new heights of clarity -- in understanding my self and my place in the world.

In Nepal I didn't get around to doing much. In Pokhara I had an accident coming down a mountain road on a bicycle, flipped over the handlebars and did a brake-stand with my face. Cleared the skin off about half my face. It took me two weeks to look somewhat normal again. In Kathmandu I ate like a cookie monster, wandered streets, watched movies, and visited a few temples.

I have a hard time denying to myself that the Tibet of old is a dying memory, following the assimilation of the North American Indian in exactly the same manner. Nobody is going to argue with 1.2 billion nuclear Chinese who are currently experiencing the greatest period of economic prosperity in their 4000 years of history over a minority people numbering 'a mere few million' -- know what I mean?

From Lhasa to Xining (via Golmud), to Batou and Dongsheng (via Lanzhou and Inner Mongolia). Visiting the mausoleum of Genghis Khan was neat; I slept in a Mongolian yurt (tent). There wasn't much to see actually, but the name is fascinating.

Beijing was a city I stayed in for two weeks, eating in a Mcdonald's for the first time since Istanbul. You would think with the name "Beijing" along would come scenes of unsurpassable splendor, the crown of centuries of Chinese arts and artifacts. Well, it's not. It's true that the Forbidden City is there, and the Summer Palaces, Tiantan Temple, several monasteries and temples -- but that's about all there is: buildings.

When the communists took power in 1949, the government that fled to Taiwan in exile packed up tons of China's treasures and took it all with them, where it is now on display in Taipei. Get this, in Beijing I could probably count on a couple of hands the number of exquisite works of ancient China. In Taipei I read in a guidebook there is over 600,000 rare treasures in the city's museum. A collection so vast that it ranks as one of the top three museums in the world and has to be rotated because it can't be shown all at once.

So aside from some interesting architecture and getting to see the richest, modern city in China, I did eat tons of good food, took in a performance of the Beijing opera and, of course, arranged a trip to the Great Wall (Mutianyu). In retrospect, a decent two week investment.

I left Beijing on August 5 and went for the city of Tai'an. Here I climbed the holiest of five sacred mountains, Mount Taishan, adored by Confucianists, Buddhists and Taoists alike. Six thousand stairs and seven kilometers later I was peaked in the clouds and in a strong rainstorm. Despite not seeing the famous Mount Taishan view I had an enjoyable time with the climb.

From Tai'an I went to a smaller city called Qufu to pay my respects to a very great sage in China, Confucius. It was here he lived, died and was buried. Out of all the attractions in China, it was this one I was most looking forward to. I don't think Confucianism has the pull it once did in China, but with me it certainly does. The place did not disappoint.

The man himself was buried in the Confucian forest along with sons and grandsons. It was a really neat place to wander around in for several hours. Throughout the forest were scattered hundreds of steles, tombs, statues of animals-sages-soldiers-warriors, archways. Combined with the sweet smell of the trees and a few kool-aid-like popsicles, I had a blast darting to and fro along forest pathways!

Next up, Qufu to Luoyang city, home to Buddhist caves carved 1500 years ago. From statues only inches in height to huge ones 17 meters tall, stretched about one kilometer along a river bank, there were hundreds of caves and niches. Buddhas everywhere. Some wild imagery.

Ta-da! Here I am! Just left Luoyang a couple hours ago and heading for Xi'an city on the train …

My average daily expenditure through the countries I have traveled in Asia look like this:

($1 CAD = $.70 US)
Syria: $9 US
Jordan: $15 US
Egypt: $14 US
Turkey: about $10-12 US
Iran : about $6 US
Pakistan: $10 US
India: $7 US
Nepal: $10-12 US
Tibet: $22 US
China: $11 US

What's going to take place for me in the near future? I figure I have enough cash to last me one more month traveling, then I am flying home with my credit card. The trip has come to an end, this time, temporarily. In a month I should be in Hong Kong, then to Vancouver, then back up into northern Canada to make my $100,000 Canadian dollars so I can go permanently touring, living off the interest of such a bank account. I figure it will take me three years. Think it will be done? Well, the only thing that may be of hindrance to such a plan will be getting sick of working after 1.5 to 2 years and only $50,000 saved!


August 18, 1995
Postcards to Violet and Roger Candow
Xian, China

I'm on the train right now, passing from the city of Xian to Chengdu.

What's going on? I'm breaking up. That is, in the process of going broke.

By far the best thing in all of China is the food. Hands down, China beats every country I have been in. Cheap and damn well everywhere and anything. Nibble on a chicken head, pig's snout, or chomp some squid. Peanuts and chicken, noodles galore, pork up the yin yang. Ahh! Exterminate the peasants, save the cuisine!

Xian city, the center of Chinese civilization from the Zhou dynasty to the Tang (1100BC - 907AD). Lots of temples, museums, steles, and terra-cotta warriors. From an excavation of Emperor Qin's tomb, an estimated 6000 of these terra-cotta warriors are in the ground, with some 1000 of them on display. What you have here folks is a gen-u-ine glimpse of Qin's netherworld army, arranged in battle formation, dressed to the hilt in armor and loaded with weaponry.

Qin ended the Warring States Period by kicking the other five states' asses and unifying China for the first time ever. (Q='ch', so 'Qin' = 'Chin' = 'Chin'-a.) Him and his people adopted the Legalist philosophy, which I reviewed in India a while back. A brutally harsh approach to governing folks, which accounts why Qin didn't last long -- from 221 - 206BC.

I'm heading to the West of China: cheapsville. I currently have $470 US with me. Divide that by $11 per day. One month approximately, then the last $100 to get me into Hong Kong, then a plane filled with chickens to get me back to Canada.

I do have options rather than return to Canada. I could teach English in Taipei or Seoul for good money, but still not as good as the Canadian north. Quite simply because I can minimize expenses in Canada. So I'll just return for 2-3 years, slam as much as I can into an account before I go crazy working, then split again.








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