Lancaster

December 21 - January ?, 2002

Once again... Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

For the world, a year of terrible devistation. Terrorist attacks on September 11th, that will forever be remembered. Repercussions to life long tensions between Islam, Christianity, Democracy, and everything else that comes to mind. All problems and no answers. A sad state of affairs.

For me, seemingly just another year on the road. Yeah, that's about it, just another year. And contrary to my mom's 'message' it looks like I got atleast one more up my sleeve...

Mom's Losing It

A lack-luster Christmas spent with family around the tree and a New Years home alone. Lacking transportation in the suburbs of America really doesn't leave you with too many options.

Anyways, this is supposed to be an intermission. I'm tired and i'm gunna take a break from all this story tellin' for awhile. In the meantime, to keep you from nagging me, enjoy these stories sent by groovy friends enroute...

Dave's Big Update

Roland's Singapore SHAWWIING

Roland's Doing It Hard In Bali

Tim's 2002 Bring It On

Oregon

January ? - January ?, 2002

An honourable invite to the home of Jim Wiggins in Portland, Oregon. A fine friend that among others I can blame for sparking the motivation in me to get out and see the world. Met while interning at JPL in Pasadena, CA and kept in close touch ever since.

A week of great fun, road tripping up into Washington and around Seattle in a rental. Camping in the snow, strumming guitars, and sing alongs. Riding steel horses, triumphing over surrounding valleys. Visiting friends, great dams, big trees, and midnight hotsprings. Feasting on flattering beans and unreal sushi. And washing down the day after damage with Bloody Marys. We even made a working Roto Leslie out of ceiling fans we pulled from a trash. A most memorable visit.

USA (OR, WA)

(75 exhibits)

A couple more stories to keep you busy...

Kimchee Crew Update

Gambaa's Hello Good Friend

North Carolina

January ? - February ?, 2002

An honourable invite to the home of the Dewald's in Carrboro, North Carolina. Three ladies from the 'tribal gang' met on the boat way back in Turkey. Having just moved themselves, they were excited to usher in some house warming company.

'You gotta come visit us!'

'OK!'

And with that I hitched a chance ride with a friend of a friend on his way South. Upon arrival they excitedly 'forced' me into committing myself to staying atleast 2 weeks (planned 1) by promising me they would drive me home if I did. A promise which from then on sounded less and less convincing...

Two weeks contending against first impression doubts they held about me from the boat in Turkey. Slowly through words and actions I came to realize that I had never been someone they trusted. I think it was hidden somewhere in 'You know, from the minute we met you we didn't trust you at all' This unjustified distrust set the stage for disaster.

Two long weeks of exasperating circumstances. In my eyes, three gossip driven, critically judgemental, caustically capable, and lazy women all on their period. Not to get me wrong; we did spend some good time together, chipped my tooth in a game of paintball, tore my pants rollerblading, and packed down the monster popcorn at a movie, but most of my time was spent playing guitar or walking around alone while they slept, talked on the phone, smoked, and criticized my every action. Alot of barely audible 'behind the back' talk huddled around a cigarette on the front porch, deepening my unwelcomed feeling.

The conclusion of my stay climaxed the tension. A saddening scene, justified by being '...too busy and tired and sick...' to drive me home as promised, but not enough to prevent dropping me off at the bus station at a moments notice for a bus I didn't want. Seeing this coming, I instead scheduled a flight to Florida to visit with my Grandparents, but waited to 'crack the shell' until things unloaded to gain a better picture of where our 'relationship' stood.

A less honourable kick me out of their home and on my ass. And that's where things stand. In the end, a trip that was supposed to cost nothing and be great fun, cost a bundle and severed our 'relationship'. A 'relationship' I guess we never had.

Between us, visiting them wasn't at all as expected. Atleast one good thing did come of it all...

Rebekah's Quintessential Quiche

Florida

February ? - February ?, 2002

I reckon my grandpa doesn't have lots of time left in this world. Suffering heavily from alcoholism and diabetes, blind and fighting just to stand. Before wandering off on another extended tour I figured I oughtta take this time to visit.

Welcome to Florida. Land of the elderly. An urban sprawl of grey haired walkers with walkers in a backdrop of planned communities, pristine palms, and mild pollution. Atleast the year round warm weather suits them well.

This isn't exactly the place to come if your looking for adventure. Infact after you finish getting the paper and picking the citrus from the tree out back there isn't much to do at all. Spent a week just sitting together, telling my stories and singing songs.

And finally showing his face after being in hibernation (drinking and passing out?) for the past two months, Dan gives the boot to Hong Kong and writes us with this...

Dan's Fuck Off

February ? - February 22, 2002

Back home. A final week of preparations before my inevitable return to India.

A week of Federal Express shipments to update my now ageing travel gear. Finally got serious about my 'Pack List', even acquiring a gram scale on Ebay in attempt to scrupalize and minimize. Everything smaller and lighter. An ounce here and there really adds up when you are carrying it with you every where you go. I even sat down to fine tune my sewing skills by making myself a moneybelt from pantyhose and stuff sacks from SilNylon. A new film camera lens with more range and a new digital camera with the capability to shoot short movies should prove interesting. A new mummy style sleeping bag and silk liner and some modifications to my tent. Giving up the dedicated mosquito net for a treatment of PermaKill. All making up for the extra weight I gained 'eating right' as mom would say.

An early taste of 'travel as usual' upon attempting to reserve my return flight. Up against an airline representative matter of factly stating that the flight is booked for the whole next month. And to compound things, my ticket is expiring making the whole trip look hopeless.

'My options?'

'You are going to have to contact the issuing agent and have them arrange the ticket'

'A street spun agent somewhere in the middle of Delhi?'

'Good Luck'

And against all odds I somehow managed to wrestle up a contact number. Within 3 days the seat reservation was 'in the mail' and believe it or not it was. Out on a limb for me and all for nothing, I must surely bring him a gift.

Your Travel Information

So that is that and if all goes as planned I should be on a plane to India, Sunday the 24th. In the meantime I got Uncle Sam to answer to... The tax man.

February 23, 2002

After such a long break, I find it hard to sit myself down and write. And where to begin?

The day before my return to India, and a typical last minute rush to finalize my preparations. Finished sewing on the final features to my homemade panty hose moneybelt and finding a place for everything in my pack list inside my backpack. A pack that is becoming increasingly overkill for my optimized goods. The most carefully constructed and streamlined list to date.

4pm and the phone rings. Scott Cochrane, a school time brother and good friend returns my page. Celebrating his 33rd and hosting a dinner swing dance party, and inviting me over. King of Prussia, an hour away and coincidentally near the Philly airport. 'Dinner at 5:30... and we leave for dancing at 6:30... Can you make it?' 'Yeah, sure... Can you take me to the airport tomorrow noon?' 'Yeah, sure...' And with that my preparations became alot more frantic. Forfeiting essential items for non-essential ones, everything comes together, tied off with an elegant rigging of rope to secure my guitar. Bagged up a microwave pizza and followed mom and wobbling John with his two replaced knees out the door and into the car.

We make it and so I say my goodbyes. I don't have a return flight nor plans to return anytime soon. Another year on the road isn't out of question and believe me, there were certainly plenty of questions. The longer my travels progress the more restless and relentless my mom becomes, surely conviced that it is time I settle down. On a 'there's no hope for him' note, in a typical mom worried for son fashion we part.

I haven't seen Scott for years, but as soon as i pass the door it all returns. 'You look great!' 'Huh?' I return, waiting for the repeat compliment. 'You look great!' 'Thanks, you too...' and within minutes am fully assimilated by the party underway.

A night of good food and awkward but invigorating dance in a room of beautiful girls. It is times like this when I question the sanity of moving on, and start to reconsider mom's power of suggestion. Old friends and new. A most enjoyable and memorable night capped by guitar sing-alongs and a few games of chess which I was obviously too tired for. Congratulations and a happy birthday Scott.

USA (NC, FL)

(21 exhibits)

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