Yo decidi viajar para Canada a Brazil en diez y nueve de Noviembre dos mille y nueve a las nueve y media. Despuis mi vida cambió todo; yo no preocupé mucho y yo termine mi pensado, y empecé actividad con mi salud y mi mente. Cosas como: yo hace yoga por sesenta y uno dias, cambió mi diete, empecé escribir en mi blog, hablé con muchos gentes nuevos, y yo hace muchos cursos en superación personal. Quise un vida mejorada, un vida mas fuerte, mas sentimientos bueno, el mejor sentir cerca las otros personas. Estuve poquito timido cerca algunas personas; las mujeres muy bonitas specificamente. Por que yo crei yo pude mejorada mi salud, mi mente, mi amor en una otra persona, yo decidi a ir en mi viaje.
Primero, visité mi famillia en Alberta en mi primero dia de viaje: vente ocho de Agosto, perro tuve muchas problemas este noche en Jasper. Con muchas lluvias, y muy frio mi botas fueron no secas y frio y pense mi viaje fue un idea muy mal perro llegue en un pueblita con nombre Hinton, y yo estuve mas calor. Cuando yo llege a la casa de mi padres, fue vente gente de mi familia: primas y primos, un sabrino, tias y tios, mi hermana y por supuesto mama y papa. Yo estuve muy feliz y nos sotros tomamos y comemos y hablamos muchos. Ellos me quisieron desear buena suerte en mi viaje, un viaje muy largo, muy dificil, y muy extraño. Fue algo preguntas perro mas hablamente.
Segundo, participe en la Festival de Burning Man. Fue un reunion mas differente, con cinquenta mille personas sin dineros, y solamente generosidad entre gentes. Entonces, olvide mi passaporte entre Reno, Nevada y Thousand Oaks, California fue necessario vivir con mi prima Paula para dos semanas esperar para mi passaporte temporada. Fue tranquillo y Paula, Mike (el esposo de Paula) y yo vimos muchas peliculas Anime. Tuve miedo de la fronterra de Mexico por que en la tiempo fue muchas violencias con narcos perro fue muy facil.
Tuve esperar en Mexico para mi passaporte permanente, si yo me divertirse en la Baja California y escribi de muchas cosas, Sal de Exportadora en Guererro Negro specificamente. En Cuidad de Mexico yo maneje mi moto en el centro con muchas carras y mi confianza aumente mucho. Yo vivi con una estudiante viejo de Tamwood por nueve dias, escuila que yo enseñé en dos mille seiz.
The Garbage Cullture
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KaPNwp6EGgw
It's someone else's problem: throw it out the window, or out the door, and someone else will take care of it. Right behind our hotel, Best Western San Jose, is a backyard full of garbage. People drive by it by the thousands every day, and yet it is still there. Missing out the 'don't litter' campaign of the '70's, people down here rate garbage somewhere between dog neutering and sidewalk repair. It's just not a priority. So, who cares? Well, first, in our area here, it has to effect the people staying in the hotel on the north side, who have to stare out at it everyday but what about the residents? What if that area could be turned into a beautiful grassy area for a couple goats to graze on? Instead of a garbage filled mess, someone could be feeding their animals...... perhaps a small dent, but someone could be benefitting.
It's someone else's problem: throw it out the window, or out the door, and someone else will take care of it. Right behind our hotel, Best Western San Jose, is a backyard full of garbage. People drive by it by the thousands every day, and yet it is still there. Missing out the 'don't litter' campaign of the '70's, people down here rate garbage somewhere between dog neutering and sidewalk repair. It's just not a priority. So, who cares? Well, first, in our area here, it has to effect the people staying in the hotel on the north side, who have to stare out at it everyday but what about the residents? What if that area could be turned into a beautiful grassy area for a couple goats to graze on? Instead of a garbage filled mess, someone could be feeding their animals...... perhaps a small dent, but someone could be benefitting.
Eddy The Character
I had some smart-arse thing to say about NPO's, but instead i'll break from the regularly scheduled program to feature Eddy, my dear friend who has the courage, strength, and mind of four 20 year olds - and he's 82. 
La Finca
"Why would you want to come all that way to see us? It's not that special!" Dee exclaimed. I assured Dee, a down-to-earth British citizen I had met in the restaurant of our hotel it would be worth it for me. Somehow she gave me a vision of a couple fighting against the odds in the Costa Rican wilderness, comitted to sustainability and self-sufficiency. I had no clue exactly where in the country her finca, (spanish for 'farm') was, but I was determined that night I would get there by Saturday. As I made my way through the rainy, cold mountains of Arenal Volcano on a 2 hour detour, I began to regret my decision.
Already one day after promised, I looked at the 2x3 card with the instructions on how to get to her place. "Hojancha to La Libertad Guanacaste 1 km de la escuelita 2 wooden gates Ray". 14 words were all I had to go on. Arriving safely in Hojancha, Guanacaste, I stop at a roadside restaurant, tempted by the ad for BBQ chicken. The waitress confirms that La Libertad does indeed exist, and is close. I confirm this with a fellow that spoke perfect English: it's about 3 miles away. He cleared up for me that La Libertad was just a store with a couple houses around it; like a village of sorts. As I suspected, I hit a dirt road going straight through the town, watching carefully for the school, or escuilita, Dee referred to, assuming the 2 wooden gates, and the entrance to the farm, would be just another 2 km away. Driving around a bend about 3 km later than desired, I flag down a couple bikers going the opposite direction; the first guy waves back and keeps going, the 2nd doesn't even acknowledge my attempt. The first guy ends up turning around and stops to help me.
I explain what I'm looking for, and he motions back the way I came. I turn around, thinking I was on my own, ignoring him turn left about a 100 m back on the road, and, thinking twice, turn back again to follow him. By this time, he had noticed I wasn't following him, and returned to fetch me. Turns out he was going to show me the way. Meanwhile another fellow was following me and almost hit me as I stop suddenly to talk to him. Now I've got two guys helping me, and I explain again the limited directions I had. The first guy is now sure he knows where I'm going, and I follow. Down the road and to the left, another km and we are stopped at some gates, which were not wooden, but he was sure it was the place. He explained to me who he was and his job, but I wasn't exactly sure but I think he was an insurance salesman, and was explaining himself to me in hopes I would put in a plug with the finca owners I was about to meet.
I hastily bid farewell and headed up the road, which degraded quickly into a washed out area quite difficult to maneuver; one false move on the bike and I'd be in the ditch, or at least the deep gullies saved only by the high spots. A house comes up on the right, and a local is sitting on the front porch. I tell them I'm friends with Dee Ray and he shakes his head in acknowledgement and lets me through another gate. I'm now faced with a steep hill at about a 45 degree pitch, the steepest I had ever tried on my cruiser. Slowly, and surely I climb, up and around a long bend, only to be met with another gate, but this time, heavy but with a single pneumatic wheel to assist. There's a large bolt I figure needs to be removed before I can attempt to move the gate. Down another road, and i come upon a large spread, with a couple houses, both magnificent in their own right, and a covered area with two Range Rovers.
The house is dark, and I stop to have a look around on the verandah to catch my breath and wonder how the hell I was going to get back down that hill. I wasn't ready to give up quite yet, so I rapped loudly on the two wooden entrance doors, and waited for an answer. Nothing. I try again. Still nothing. I take out my camera in hopes of at least getting some photos of the place I had so valiantly achieved in finding when a tall, bald fellow opens the door with a quizzical look. I explain to him I was a journalist and had met Dee at the Best Western, and he starts to soften. "What was your first name again?" I ask him sheepishly. "Ray", he replies with a why-don't-you-know-that look, and I defend, saying "Oh, geez I'm sorry I thought Ray was your last name." Note to self: ease up on the rum and coke when you're writing down crucial information about people, or at least write down more details. I decline his offer to come in for a drink, and he decides to fetch Dee, who is down with the horses. I tell him I'll wait and have a much needed cigarette.
I quickly surmise Ray is not one for idle chit chat, as he quickly jumps on his Yamaha ATV, burns out of the yard, and returns before I finish my cigarette, with Dee and her black rubber boots sitting behind him. Now recovered from the shock of seeing me, Dee tells me she left a message on my hotel phone saying "if you really intend on coming you should really get better directions." Turns out it was that same message that Eddy had tried to retrieve 3 days earlier; I thought it was an error and foolishly ignored his pleas for help with the phone technology.
"Would you like to join Ray on a tour of the fina?" Dee asked. "Would I? That would be great!" I reply enthusiastically. She looks at my black cowboy boots and says "It can be a bit treacherous walking, would you like some other shoes?" she asks. "I'll be fine," I say, wondering if my independence was ill-advised. It turned out to be the least of my worries, as holding onto the back of the trike as Ray flew up and down the rocky roads became a test of arm strength. I felt awkward grabbing onto the waist of a grown man I had only known for 5 minutes, and chose instead to tenuously hold onto the back rails. We stop on the top of the bluff, and Ray tells me a bit about his cattle, and teak operation. Here's a clip of him:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVZgsQH3IBE
Ray caught on to the natural filtration system for the abundant water on his farm, and tapped into it. Through a series of pipes and tanks, he is able to not only store water for the farm's use, but for him and Dee and their five workers. The only maintenance required is a twice-a-year cleanout of the tanks; eschewing the modern-day addiction to chlorine and water treatment, the Davey's haven't had a problem in 5 years. Storing the water in the rainy season, they are able to have drinking water year-round without any form of outside water supply.
This doesn't take anything away from the forest of teak he has planted, which has a miraculous ability to regenerate, and grow quickly. Originally he would arrange to ship the teak himself, but after too many headaches, chose to sell them FOB his door. After only 6 months, these trees can grow over 10 feet after being cut to the ground. There are other uses for trees in the local area. You can see 'live fences' of trees, strewn with wire, that were once branches pruned from their mothers, growing tall and strong after a 48 hour 'dry-out' period, and a simple push into the soil.
Their cattlemen use horses to check on the cows 3 times a week, and move them from pasture to pasture to avoid over-grazing. Each of their workers, including a maid, are able to buy into the herd with the money they earn from their work. As Ray mentioned, their money can double or triple in just a year and a half. They've taken to buying quarters, and halves of cows separately, as a cow fully owned that is bitten by a snake could represent a 100% loss in investment should it die. It has also forced the workers to care much more about the health, and safety of the cows, due to their vested interest. With an unemployment rate around 50%, these 5 seem gracious for the opportunities given to them. As Ray and Dee don't care as much about making heaps of money, they have room in their lives to make heaps of difference for others.
We sat down for a nice pasta dinner, and talked about their experience of Zimbabwe from '93 to '00, and got out just before Mugabe went crazy. They wanted a place that was hot, and their sights led them to Costa Rica. There are many problems in this country, but the Davey's are doing their part to make it just a bit better.
Already one day after promised, I looked at the 2x3 card with the instructions on how to get to her place. "Hojancha to La Libertad Guanacaste 1 km de la escuelita 2 wooden gates Ray". 14 words were all I had to go on. Arriving safely in Hojancha, Guanacaste, I stop at a roadside restaurant, tempted by the ad for BBQ chicken. The waitress confirms that La Libertad does indeed exist, and is close. I confirm this with a fellow that spoke perfect English: it's about 3 miles away. He cleared up for me that La Libertad was just a store with a couple houses around it; like a village of sorts. As I suspected, I hit a dirt road going straight through the town, watching carefully for the school, or escuilita, Dee referred to, assuming the 2 wooden gates, and the entrance to the farm, would be just another 2 km away. Driving around a bend about 3 km later than desired, I flag down a couple bikers going the opposite direction; the first guy waves back and keeps going, the 2nd doesn't even acknowledge my attempt. The first guy ends up turning around and stops to help me.
I explain what I'm looking for, and he motions back the way I came. I turn around, thinking I was on my own, ignoring him turn left about a 100 m back on the road, and, thinking twice, turn back again to follow him. By this time, he had noticed I wasn't following him, and returned to fetch me. Turns out he was going to show me the way. Meanwhile another fellow was following me and almost hit me as I stop suddenly to talk to him. Now I've got two guys helping me, and I explain again the limited directions I had. The first guy is now sure he knows where I'm going, and I follow. Down the road and to the left, another km and we are stopped at some gates, which were not wooden, but he was sure it was the place. He explained to me who he was and his job, but I wasn't exactly sure but I think he was an insurance salesman, and was explaining himself to me in hopes I would put in a plug with the finca owners I was about to meet.
I hastily bid farewell and headed up the road, which degraded quickly into a washed out area quite difficult to maneuver; one false move on the bike and I'd be in the ditch, or at least the deep gullies saved only by the high spots. A house comes up on the right, and a local is sitting on the front porch. I tell them I'm friends with Dee Ray and he shakes his head in acknowledgement and lets me through another gate. I'm now faced with a steep hill at about a 45 degree pitch, the steepest I had ever tried on my cruiser. Slowly, and surely I climb, up and around a long bend, only to be met with another gate, but this time, heavy but with a single pneumatic wheel to assist. There's a large bolt I figure needs to be removed before I can attempt to move the gate. Down another road, and i come upon a large spread, with a couple houses, both magnificent in their own right, and a covered area with two Range Rovers.
The house is dark, and I stop to have a look around on the verandah to catch my breath and wonder how the hell I was going to get back down that hill. I wasn't ready to give up quite yet, so I rapped loudly on the two wooden entrance doors, and waited for an answer. Nothing. I try again. Still nothing. I take out my camera in hopes of at least getting some photos of the place I had so valiantly achieved in finding when a tall, bald fellow opens the door with a quizzical look. I explain to him I was a journalist and had met Dee at the Best Western, and he starts to soften. "What was your first name again?" I ask him sheepishly. "Ray", he replies with a why-don't-you-know-that look, and I defend, saying "Oh, geez I'm sorry I thought Ray was your last name." Note to self: ease up on the rum and coke when you're writing down crucial information about people, or at least write down more details. I decline his offer to come in for a drink, and he decides to fetch Dee, who is down with the horses. I tell him I'll wait and have a much needed cigarette.
I quickly surmise Ray is not one for idle chit chat, as he quickly jumps on his Yamaha ATV, burns out of the yard, and returns before I finish my cigarette, with Dee and her black rubber boots sitting behind him. Now recovered from the shock of seeing me, Dee tells me she left a message on my hotel phone saying "if you really intend on coming you should really get better directions." Turns out it was that same message that Eddy had tried to retrieve 3 days earlier; I thought it was an error and foolishly ignored his pleas for help with the phone technology.
"Would you like to join Ray on a tour of the fina?" Dee asked. "Would I? That would be great!" I reply enthusiastically. She looks at my black cowboy boots and says "It can be a bit treacherous walking, would you like some other shoes?" she asks. "I'll be fine," I say, wondering if my independence was ill-advised. It turned out to be the least of my worries, as holding onto the back of the trike as Ray flew up and down the rocky roads became a test of arm strength. I felt awkward grabbing onto the waist of a grown man I had only known for 5 minutes, and chose instead to tenuously hold onto the back rails. We stop on the top of the bluff, and Ray tells me a bit about his cattle, and teak operation. Here's a clip of him:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVZgsQH3IBE
Ray caught on to the natural filtration system for the abundant water on his farm, and tapped into it. Through a series of pipes and tanks, he is able to not only store water for the farm's use, but for him and Dee and their five workers. The only maintenance required is a twice-a-year cleanout of the tanks; eschewing the modern-day addiction to chlorine and water treatment, the Davey's haven't had a problem in 5 years. Storing the water in the rainy season, they are able to have drinking water year-round without any form of outside water supply.
This doesn't take anything away from the forest of teak he has planted, which has a miraculous ability to regenerate, and grow quickly. Originally he would arrange to ship the teak himself, but after too many headaches, chose to sell them FOB his door. After only 6 months, these trees can grow over 10 feet after being cut to the ground. There are other uses for trees in the local area. You can see 'live fences' of trees, strewn with wire, that were once branches pruned from their mothers, growing tall and strong after a 48 hour 'dry-out' period, and a simple push into the soil.
Their cattlemen use horses to check on the cows 3 times a week, and move them from pasture to pasture to avoid over-grazing. Each of their workers, including a maid, are able to buy into the herd with the money they earn from their work. As Ray mentioned, their money can double or triple in just a year and a half. They've taken to buying quarters, and halves of cows separately, as a cow fully owned that is bitten by a snake could represent a 100% loss in investment should it die. It has also forced the workers to care much more about the health, and safety of the cows, due to their vested interest. With an unemployment rate around 50%, these 5 seem gracious for the opportunities given to them. As Ray and Dee don't care as much about making heaps of money, they have room in their lives to make heaps of difference for others.
We sat down for a nice pasta dinner, and talked about their experience of Zimbabwe from '93 to '00, and got out just before Mugabe went crazy. They wanted a place that was hot, and their sights led them to Costa Rica. There are many problems in this country, but the Davey's are doing their part to make it just a bit better.
Spreading Thin
Leaving at 6 am Saturday morning from San Jose, my plan was to hit Brasilito to visit Richard and Lisa, two friends from Alberta, then head south through Guanacaste to Hojancha, to do a story on a finca owner I had met at my hotel a few days earlier. Plans changed early, as the bridge to Pan-Am #1 had been washed out over the weekend, and I was forced to take a detour - north through the mountains. Cold, foggy, and rainy, I finally came out the west side of the Arenal Volcano area doggedly determined to make up the 2 hours I had lost slowly winding through slippery mountainous roads. I arrived in Brasilito at 1 pm, 3 hours after I expected.
Richard and Lisa generously paid the hotel $85 US just for me to come down to their room, have a few drinks, and use the pool. I had never been to a swim-up bar before, and they had rented a private cabana for the week as well. I've always known Lisa as someone who says exactly what she thinks, and whether I liked it or not, her first comment to me was that my goatee looked like there could be an animal hiding inside of it. At least you always know where you stand with her, and it is the same with her mother, whom I accompanied to Africa for 3 weeks in '06. They've become dear friends, and can usually take it as much as they give it. I do appreciate this and my skin can grow thicker, knowing there's still lots of love there.
After a few short hours, it was time to say goodbye in hopes of reaching my next spot. Nursing a nasty cold, my thoughts, for a rare change, moved towards staying the night in Santa Cruz, only an hour away from Brasilito. Even though my tenacity would normally force me to ride until I reached my destination, my body's needs, for a change, won out over my mind's. I was feeling woozy and could barely breath from the congestion in my lungs and sinuses.
Laying prostrate on that $26/nite hotel bed, I gained some comfort from watching some English TV channels and slept well.
The next morning started with some much needed exercise to clear my head and achey muscles. With ipod in ears and a determined gait I pranced up and down the dirt roads of Santa Cruz, sweating out my pain. The exertion was just too much, and rather than get on the road, I elected to lay down again, and watch some TV. Madagascar: Back 2 Africa was on in English with Spanish subtitles and I laughed - I really thought it was truly brilliant. It was a bit contrived and I wondered aloud how calculated these animated movies have become, with A-list voices, snappy, witty lines, and a seemingly deep moral plot. It seemed to me the generation of animators/directors who grew up without fathers had something to do with it. Either way, they know what makes money now, and are cashing in facetiously.
By the time 1 pm came around, I thought I had better get on the road and prepared while watching a second movie featuring Tim Robbins as a guy who can't stand noise. If he comes upon a car with an alarm going off, he would simply break the window and turn it off. Car horns, sirens, heavy machinery: he made it his personal mission to rid New York City of noise, and paid the price for his predilection by repeated appearances in front of the judge. It looked like he was ready to lose his family and career by the time I had to shut it off.
I related to this man who simply refused to accept the way things are. As of writing this, I can see the error in my ways. I was literally exhausted today from how hard I had pushed myself over the last two days just to do what I said I would do. That being said, NO REGRETS!
Richard and Lisa generously paid the hotel $85 US just for me to come down to their room, have a few drinks, and use the pool. I had never been to a swim-up bar before, and they had rented a private cabana for the week as well. I've always known Lisa as someone who says exactly what she thinks, and whether I liked it or not, her first comment to me was that my goatee looked like there could be an animal hiding inside of it. At least you always know where you stand with her, and it is the same with her mother, whom I accompanied to Africa for 3 weeks in '06. They've become dear friends, and can usually take it as much as they give it. I do appreciate this and my skin can grow thicker, knowing there's still lots of love there.
After a few short hours, it was time to say goodbye in hopes of reaching my next spot. Nursing a nasty cold, my thoughts, for a rare change, moved towards staying the night in Santa Cruz, only an hour away from Brasilito. Even though my tenacity would normally force me to ride until I reached my destination, my body's needs, for a change, won out over my mind's. I was feeling woozy and could barely breath from the congestion in my lungs and sinuses.
Laying prostrate on that $26/nite hotel bed, I gained some comfort from watching some English TV channels and slept well.
The next morning started with some much needed exercise to clear my head and achey muscles. With ipod in ears and a determined gait I pranced up and down the dirt roads of Santa Cruz, sweating out my pain. The exertion was just too much, and rather than get on the road, I elected to lay down again, and watch some TV. Madagascar: Back 2 Africa was on in English with Spanish subtitles and I laughed - I really thought it was truly brilliant. It was a bit contrived and I wondered aloud how calculated these animated movies have become, with A-list voices, snappy, witty lines, and a seemingly deep moral plot. It seemed to me the generation of animators/directors who grew up without fathers had something to do with it. Either way, they know what makes money now, and are cashing in facetiously.
By the time 1 pm came around, I thought I had better get on the road and prepared while watching a second movie featuring Tim Robbins as a guy who can't stand noise. If he comes upon a car with an alarm going off, he would simply break the window and turn it off. Car horns, sirens, heavy machinery: he made it his personal mission to rid New York City of noise, and paid the price for his predilection by repeated appearances in front of the judge. It looked like he was ready to lose his family and career by the time I had to shut it off.
I related to this man who simply refused to accept the way things are. As of writing this, I can see the error in my ways. I was literally exhausted today from how hard I had pushed myself over the last two days just to do what I said I would do. That being said, NO REGRETS!
back home
back in san jose after madagascar back 2 africa, a movie with Tim Robbins, santa cruz, help to get to the finca (farm) of Dee and Ray with a tour and dinner, then dropped the bike on the steep gravel down from their house, and slid sideways to miss an accident on the new highway built by the spaniards.
sittin in the rain
sat out a rain storm on the way to west coast of costa rica to see lisa. she just hailed a bunch of insults at me in a vain attempt to get me off the computer and on the road. had to detour as a bridge was out adding an hour to the trip. drove through the arenal area world famous volcano.
There's that soap box!
How many of us would include "make the world a different place" on their bucket list? Why would anyone want to invest their time, money and efforts into something that may not see a result until after they're gone? It is a test of conscience, a testament to the greatness of the human spirit, the one thing that sets us apart from every other living creature on this earth.
With every reason to be selfish, it is now socially acceptable to think only of yourself. As we move farther and farther away from each other mentally, physically and emotionally through tv, computers, and work one can do whatever wants for oneself, as long as they are able to make enough money to support themselves. It is no longer necessary to consider the good of the group inherently. Certainly most of us connect regularly with our friends, family, coworkers but I argue that if one person is going into a school and blasting 20 people dead with a semi-automatic, that one person is just as important a reflection on the overall health of society as a whole whether it happens in Burma, or Stettler.
This will be our greatest test - will we ignore our pre-programmed biology and need to connect with others, or will we collectively come together, molting our hardened, technologically advanced skins to reconnect to our humanity? Specifically social efforts on women's rights, drug trafficking, violent crimes, human rights and abuses will continue to flounder against the collective consciousness, and global economy of desire.
The same desire for casinos, cocaine, and cash were satiated by the thrill of collectively hunting a large buffalo, or protecting the tribe from a tiger in primitive times. The ability to work together to take down a large animal required complex forms of communication, not the least of which was language, thought to start about 250,000 years ago. Stories would be told for generations of how the tribe sustained an attack from a rival group, or how a child miraculously survived a swim in a croc-infested river. People relied on each other for all of their needs, whether it be physical, or emotional. This I know, because i am connected to my ancestors in a way I cannot explain. Fortunately science backs my claims, and will continue to.
My friend mused on fb today about making a mouse-flavoured cat food. Funny and cute and a good idea, except for mouse-flavoured cat food would be a mouse itself, no? We will continue to move farther and farther away from knowing where our own food comes from (I have seen a few cows killed and slaughtered, and eat that same animal later) especially as the global move away from farms continues.
So, what do we do? We must all become experts in being human - from our ancient history to our future. We must learn to deal with rich & poor, or scrap the whole system and revolutionize society. As long as there is a difference between us whether it be our bank accounts, or our possessions, or our mental state, the people who don't have it, will want it, and will do anything to get it; the people who have it will invariably want more. This desire will continue to fuel the sex trade, the drug trade, and all the violent crimes outside and in between. We will all need to display an inordinate amount of tolerance, understanding and acceptance of ourselves and others. As long as religion teaches people more about living well in today's world, and less of trying to interpret a book written thousands of years ago, it will have a place, and purpose.
Build up your armies, fall victim to the same human programs of jealousy, aggression, allow oneself to enjoy every temptation, and every desire. I'm ok with that. It's going to happen. Hell, I do it from time to time myself and my guilt is getting smaller and more redundant. But, I still have, and always will have, a desire, and love for everyone, and to make the world a different place. Do I have to be the Prime Minister of Canada to make a difference? No, I don't and I already have in my own life but it has taken a lot of pain and eye-opening to things I did not want to see, or experience. I had to believe in the power of love, of family, of friends of myself to come out the other side with a much better understanding, and acceptance of humanity. What makes my thoughts different is that my eyes are wide-open now.
Let's stop building armies, skyscrapers, mansions, dams, and churches and start building us.
With every reason to be selfish, it is now socially acceptable to think only of yourself. As we move farther and farther away from each other mentally, physically and emotionally through tv, computers, and work one can do whatever wants for oneself, as long as they are able to make enough money to support themselves. It is no longer necessary to consider the good of the group inherently. Certainly most of us connect regularly with our friends, family, coworkers but I argue that if one person is going into a school and blasting 20 people dead with a semi-automatic, that one person is just as important a reflection on the overall health of society as a whole whether it happens in Burma, or Stettler.
This will be our greatest test - will we ignore our pre-programmed biology and need to connect with others, or will we collectively come together, molting our hardened, technologically advanced skins to reconnect to our humanity? Specifically social efforts on women's rights, drug trafficking, violent crimes, human rights and abuses will continue to flounder against the collective consciousness, and global economy of desire.
The same desire for casinos, cocaine, and cash were satiated by the thrill of collectively hunting a large buffalo, or protecting the tribe from a tiger in primitive times. The ability to work together to take down a large animal required complex forms of communication, not the least of which was language, thought to start about 250,000 years ago. Stories would be told for generations of how the tribe sustained an attack from a rival group, or how a child miraculously survived a swim in a croc-infested river. People relied on each other for all of their needs, whether it be physical, or emotional. This I know, because i am connected to my ancestors in a way I cannot explain. Fortunately science backs my claims, and will continue to.
My friend mused on fb today about making a mouse-flavoured cat food. Funny and cute and a good idea, except for mouse-flavoured cat food would be a mouse itself, no? We will continue to move farther and farther away from knowing where our own food comes from (I have seen a few cows killed and slaughtered, and eat that same animal later) especially as the global move away from farms continues.
So, what do we do? We must all become experts in being human - from our ancient history to our future. We must learn to deal with rich & poor, or scrap the whole system and revolutionize society. As long as there is a difference between us whether it be our bank accounts, or our possessions, or our mental state, the people who don't have it, will want it, and will do anything to get it; the people who have it will invariably want more. This desire will continue to fuel the sex trade, the drug trade, and all the violent crimes outside and in between. We will all need to display an inordinate amount of tolerance, understanding and acceptance of ourselves and others. As long as religion teaches people more about living well in today's world, and less of trying to interpret a book written thousands of years ago, it will have a place, and purpose.
Build up your armies, fall victim to the same human programs of jealousy, aggression, allow oneself to enjoy every temptation, and every desire. I'm ok with that. It's going to happen. Hell, I do it from time to time myself and my guilt is getting smaller and more redundant. But, I still have, and always will have, a desire, and love for everyone, and to make the world a different place. Do I have to be the Prime Minister of Canada to make a difference? No, I don't and I already have in my own life but it has taken a lot of pain and eye-opening to things I did not want to see, or experience. I had to believe in the power of love, of family, of friends of myself to come out the other side with a much better understanding, and acceptance of humanity. What makes my thoughts different is that my eyes are wide-open now.
Let's stop building armies, skyscrapers, mansions, dams, and churches and start building us.
Costa Rican Strip Club
I feel I'm not quite ready to share this experience. I believe my writing will continue to improve, and be much more entertaining as I wean myself off of people pleasing. But let me tell you this: it was a fantastic experience, and has gotten me thinking about a number of social, economic, and personal issues we all face as human beings. Sex sells, and it always will, even if we all become robots.
La Presidente
Sharing a last name with a cute, furry, big-eared creature, Laura Chinchilla avoids any other similiarities to this affable little rodent. Her home is located at the centre of Latin American machismo, with Nicaragua to the north and Panama to the south. As the current President of Costa Rica, Chinchilla is already facing more serious challenges than her predecessor, Nobel laureate Oscar Arias. How will she fare?
Although Chinchilla is not the first female leader of state in Latin America, she is the first in Costa Rica, a country with some very unique characteristics. Without an army since 1948, 16% below the poverty line, 25% of land mass protected as national parks or preserves, and an economy that relies heavily on tourism, a great deal of socio-political juggling is necessary. It is tempting to explore gender in a leadership role, but regardless one thing is certain: Laura Chinchilla will need to be a master of negotiation, as Nicaragua contests the definition of their border with Costa Rica.
Although Chinchilla is not the first female leader of state in Latin America, she is the first in Costa Rica, a country with some very unique characteristics. Without an army since 1948, 16% below the poverty line, 25% of land mass protected as national parks or preserves, and an economy that relies heavily on tourism, a great deal of socio-political juggling is necessary. It is tempting to explore gender in a leadership role, but regardless one thing is certain: Laura Chinchilla will need to be a master of negotiation, as Nicaragua contests the definition of their border with Costa Rica.
Thoughts
Despite having my blog address written across the back of an orange cooler strapped to my bike I haven't had one complaint about my driving!
The Power of Words
dI find myself ever-hungry for words. Facts, history, stories, biographies. Anything that is real. I allowed a websearch to flow from the Iranian Revolution of 1978, to Ayatollah Khomeini to Salman Rushdie to his beautiful 4th ex-wife and host of Top Chef Padma Lakshmi. With a physicality lying somewhere between a penguin and a garden troll, Rushdie has reputedly enraptured countless stunning females within moments of speaking.
He endured a 'fatwa', or an Islamic hit on his head since the publication of his b
ook, Satanic Verses, in 1988 without so much as an assassination attempt. Several people were murdered around the world simply for translating his book into their own language. How could these people mastermind crashing two jets into The World Trade Centre, and not be able to follow through on a 'fatwa'? Was it a case of Bin Laden being a better tactician?
Pulling myself back before I get too far, and to the point of my writing. Having an entire religion so enraged with you, and with what you indirectly referred to in a book you wrote, and being able to seduce some of the most beautiful, powerful, successful, and rich women in the world - is there a connection? One must either cultivate, or possess an extraordinary tenacity, and will, to communicate their message in the face of certain death. For an intellect, the fear of failing to communicate must far outweigh the fear of death. For me, I am just now learning to disconnect my fear of disapproval, or fear of not being liked for what I say, or do. I feel the need for perfectionism slowly melting away.
Some would rate public speaking higher than death on a scale of fear-inducing topics. I am a child in the sense of speaking my mind, and they are merely postulations on a world I may never fully understand.
He endured a 'fatwa', or an Islamic hit on his head since the publication of his b
ook, Satanic Verses, in 1988 without so much as an assassination attempt. Several people were murdered around the world simply for translating his book into their own language. How could these people mastermind crashing two jets into The World Trade Centre, and not be able to follow through on a 'fatwa'? Was it a case of Bin Laden being a better tactician?Pulling myself back before I get too far, and to the point of my writing. Having an entire religion so enraged with you, and with what you indirectly referred to in a book you wrote, and being able to seduce some of the most beautiful, powerful, successful, and rich women in the world - is there a connection? One must either cultivate, or possess an extraordinary tenacity, and will, to communicate their message in the face of certain death. For an intellect, the fear of failing to communicate must far outweigh the fear of death. For me, I am just now learning to disconnect my fear of disapproval, or fear of not being liked for what I say, or do. I feel the need for perfectionism slowly melting away.
Some would rate public speaking higher than death on a scale of fear-inducing topics. I am a child in the sense of speaking my mind, and they are merely postulations on a world I may never fully understand.
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