.... on the day when I was born....

... Hey now...
Feel like a stranger... I love this tune.. so much.."....Well the music's thunderin', restless and hot...." I have a little ipod,, 6 gigs.. only 22 shows.. someone gave it to me on Maui before I left last year. I filled it up from my computer,,, only 22 shows.. with gaps between the songs. which used to bug the shit out of me,, when I got a cd from someone I would usually discard it immediately if it had gaps between songs.. it took me a long time to figure out how to store music on my computer and burn people cd's with out gaps, but i didn't figure out how to configure this silly ipod without them. so, for the first six months of so of travelling I didn't use the thing.. primarily because I couldn't get enough volume... figuring the thing was crap. then I randomly tried a different pair of earphones and lo and behold, Music.. sweet music... and have been listening to it off and on ever since... I have a couple of other playlist, primarily Dylan. , B. Cockburn, lots of Bhajan's, Jaya Laksmi etc... but on this most recent leg of the journey I have been listening to nothing but Jer... I love the clarity that comes through the headphones... I am constantly hearing new things I haven't heard before even though I have listened to the same show a hundred times... God has blessed us with this music for sure..

Half Step... It is transcendental to listen to Jer while in India., (or anywhere for that matter.),, ,I have been traveling solo for this whole year.. (thirteen and a half months now.. ) and occasionally befriend another traveller... such as now,,there is a guy from France staying here,, on kind of a similar soul searching .. or locale searching journey as I... we spend a lot of time in the restaurant chatting about life such.. him doing most of the talking.. waxing philosophical and such.. we differ quite a bit in our spiritual beliefs, he doesn't buy into the whole Hindu trip, while I love to visit temples, take darshan of the deities, eat and share prasad etc... Yesterday he was expounding on the challenges he faces being in the ( Material ) world but not of it.. and I concurred only saying that I have something to fall back upon... like how many people use religion as a crux,,, or a crutch, trying to translate crux. and I gave him a brief explanation about how I have this music that takes me to a transcental place.. which fills my heart and soul with gratitude and joy.....

The Weight.... "...Just need a place where I can lay my head.." Jer,, his voice so sweet... so soothing.. so lucky we are... yes Bella, not many can relate,, even many who were there. The magnitude of bliss.. now Brent comes in... I love this song.. I think it was the first view from the vault,,, from Alpine,,, has a version of this song.. with Hornsby smiling while singing. love it.... how each member sings a verse.. now it's Phil... how I loved his voice too... so clear it comes through my headphones... booby,,, "crazy Chester followed me..."
now the guitar interlude, a prime example of how Jer makes his guitar sing... and then the whole band harmonizing for the last verse...

Queen Jane Approximately... good one Bobby... "When your mother sends back all your invitations...And your father to your sister he explains.......That you're tired of yourself and all of your creations...." .occasionally I get melancholic, wondering what it is I am doing....
making things that don't sell, thinking I'm an artist,, but really, just doing the same thing I have been doing for almost half my life...
Now when all the clowns that you have commissioned....Have died in battle or in vain....And you're sick of all this repetition...:
"Won't you .. come and see me... Queen Jane...."

Easy to love you... "Good, good morning, so good to see you weren't just a dream of mine....Real as a raven, real as thunder, real as the sun shinin'...But still so very undefined...." such a positive Brent song.. written on the upside of one of his relationships no doubt.. he wrote some good songs,, guess for those of us who spent the decade of eighties so deadicated,, we are of the Brent generation... an interesting epoch, in my life, and I am sure many others as well... who weren't there for the prior two keyboardists...

Brown eyed Women.... love this intro.. love this song.. "gone are the days... ".. wow.. do I love this song.. the bottle was dusty but the liquid was clean... and you know the old man is getting on... such a fine melody.. again it's Jer.. am I wrong sister in sometimes thinking that the GD was just a backup band providing the musical landscape for Jerry's exquisite musical creations.. I mean... one reason I can't really absorb other music as well is because of Jer.'s guitar and voice.. there is nothing like it.. I must sound like a zealot,, but I feel you can relate. So soothing.. it brings tears to my eyes more often than not.... "Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down,....And it looks like the old man. is getting on......"

Let it Grow,, and after that spiel.. comes one of Bobby's finest compositions.. silver beads... o.k... I am humbled.. of course .. the Grateful Dead is an entity greater than the sum of it's parts.. there is the mystical element of spirit that moves through the music.. that moves through the band, and moves through us......
"What shall we say, shall we call it by a name,...As well to count the angels dancing on a pin....Water bright as the sky from which it came,....And the name is on the earth that takes it in.....We will not speak but stand inside the rain,...And listen to the thunder shouting "I am! I am! I am! I am.".... just noticed this little thunder theme.. if the lightning don't get ya... I think in my case both the lightning and thunder got me.... but again,, it is Jerry's blazing guitar that carries me along... even the poignant ending.. winding down,, ending the song.. ending the set... each note.. penetrating right through all illusion.. touching,, tickling the soul....

Set Break... I wasn't at this show in April of 1990,, choosing to settle down for spell to bring sweet Bhaji Bliss into the world less than a couple months later.. we didn't stay away too long though... bringing her to the show in Eugene in June just three weeks after she was born... to hear Jer. ...

"...Speak with wisdom like a child.....Directly from the heart".... hard to say whether or not I am one with a foolish heart... these days I would hesitate before allowing someone to give their heart to me.. hence.. our solo journey. Our journey of discovery...do we "Dare to leap
Where the angels fear to tread?".. would we want to... "stoke the fires of paradise with coals from hell to start.... ? "... this is the tune that was going through my head this summer as I stood on the rim of Europe's most active volcano.. watching it spew out lava... a cauldron.. from deep inside the Earth.. this ever burning fire... like this song.. I am not that familiar.. so into water I am..

Looks like Rain... I have a very fond relationship with this song.... with all my seemingly despairing remarks towards Mr. Weir.. I am grateful for his presence in my life.. or his music I should say.. " but it's all right,, 'cause I love you.... " ...

I guess I have digressed from any semblance of the letter I was writing.. forgive my transgression. it is challenging writing independent thoughts while listening to this music.... but we would like to share our feelings with you none the less. hoping you find joy and recognition in this transmission...

He's Gone.. uh oh.. this song was very relevant for me when I was in Rishikesh recently...."Goin' where the wind don't blow so strange,
Maybe off on some high cold mountain chain...."... from the Sierra's to the Kootney's to Haleakala and the West Maui's to the Himalaya's.. life is a journey,,, and sometimes..there just ain't nothin' left to do but smile, smile, smile... once in '86 I borrowed a friend's camera,, it had one of those long lenses.. I had never taken pictures during a show before and thought I'd give it a go,, just for kicks.. second set.. He's gone.. for some reason I was zooming in on Bobby while he was harmonizing the line,,, " a knife in the back..." and he was looking right at me.. I kept that picture for a long time... and never tried taking pictures during the show again... ''.. oh.. nothin's gonna bring him back... but listening to this song doesn't make me miss Jer,, instead it brings a smile to my face...... even though they go right into....

...."I told you once.. I told you twice.... ".... foregoing the long blues jam that usually follows He's gone.. what was going on with the band,, so many questions I have... still sparks so much curiosity.. so there I still am... I smoke a bidi,, sip my chai.. but try as I might, have trouble imagining I am in India.. no one is awake here, I have free reign on the computer in the early a.m.... as I have spent more than three months in this guest house this year.. more than any where else.. it is comfortable.. I returned recently after a six month tour of eleven countries and felt right at home.. same thing happened when I returned to Rishikesh.. and found that they had painted my room purple... there is something about India... gets into your bones.. you miss it when you stay away too long.. of course this feeling disappears the moment I step out into the street and am assaulted by the rickshaw walla's who relentlessly try to whisk me off to some unwanted destination... some trap for tourist's where they get their commission... I can not wear my head phones on the street here as there are no sidewalks per se.. and one is at risk from the traffic which comes at you from every direction.. chaos on the roads is the norm here... motorcycles cruising down the wrong side of the street.. and trying to cross the street.. man... what an ordeal.. every time... but mornings are nice.. all is quiet.. I go out for chai before the sun rises.. sit on a stool with the locals... some who sleep on their bicycles.. or in their auto rickshaw's.. I have a cup and get a little parcel to go.. in a plastic bag.. I did buy a Thermos for this purpose,,, but when I tried to make tea in one morning with my little electric water heating element.,, the kind you stick in your cup... the kind where you get a shock if you touch it without unplugging it first,, or touch the stainless steel cup... well , it shattered the glass inside the Thermos... so, I got a baggie full of chai,, and here I sit.... listening to what sounds like only Jer on stage after the drums.. but I hear bobby plucking away also,, or is it Brent.? or both? Jer. switches over to his midi.. some would say it is a flute.. but I sounds more like a guitar through a midi to me, though I have been fooled before thinking someone was on stage with a sax. And now, the familiar sound of ......

The Other One,,, which I learned from Macnally's book was titled because of a another song they were working on at the time,,, this one came through,, and they decided to call it the Other One.. this one a very discombobulated one... bobby totally confusing the verses ... but they are coming around... and reach those climatic peaks which so well define the other one... building and building into a frenetic frenzy of sheer Rock and Roll. if you can call it that. it seems like so much more. people are beginning to stir here, as Jer leads the band into..

Death Don't Have No Mercy.. which we know all too well,, this is the song I played when I got the news that my "mother was gone..."... I I and I remember the chilling version that was played in Golden Gate Park at the memorial...and I remember the only version I ever saw at shoreline... and I remember....
being there....

Have a beautiful day where ever you are.......

"Mama, Mama, many worlds I've come...."

"California... preachin' on the burning shore.." Greetings once again from the twilight zone... how to describe the sensation of tripping around this busy city in India while listening to a hot 'Estimated' from '77? It like being in two worlds simultaneously. I've always considered Estimated a great Jerry song.. and the chilling versions from '77-'78 are my favorites... Such great technology we have these days. quatum leap into the future.... listening to shows from the past.. Great moments of musical history, captured on tape.. but try as I might, I can not remember too clearly the time when we used to travel with tapes. Yet for so many years,. tapes are what consumed our life between shows. While visiting a friend recently, I filled up a little box with five hundred gigabytes of music, three hundred and twenty shows. At two tapes a show, that would be six hundred and forty tapes. I was reminiscing about the how, back in the day, I would show up for a week and leave with thirty tapes, and be so psyched. Granted things are a bit different now in the 'digital age'. .. but the music shines through gloriously still .. this 'Eyes" intro so pristine... rythm guitars.. Phil taking the lead. Great lead bassist, Mr. Lesh.. Then Jerry comes in .. right on cue. Hitting those beuatiful notes... So well orchestrated this one is...

For some reason from where I am sitting, the movie that is India takes on a whole new light with this particular soundtrack. "Right outside the lazy gate.. " indeed. I am sitting in the restaurant I eat at every night. A typical roadside affair, with peeling paint on the walls, a corrugated metal roof, mice scurrying about. and the 'kitchen' three steps above the sidewalk, which isn't really a sidewalk at all, merely a place for cars and motorcycles to park, and enough room for cows to walk by, trying to get a spare chapati or two on their way to I don't know where.. They are just part of the multitudes of beings going every which way in this city of four million .

Two Brahma bulls and their calf walk by,, pausing for a chapati,, the owner goes out and throws a handful of water at them to shoe them away. I guess the cows here are like the beggars, there are just too many.. if the owner of the restaurant gave a chapati to every cow that walked by.. well..

Cars, motorcycles, auto rickshaws. bicycles rickshaws. people, cows,, very busy street. The drums pounding in my head, this one is full on. Do I turn it down? Not a chance.. and sure enough, the band comes out and launches into a rockin' 'Samson and Delilah'. Perfect...

................"I won't slave for beggars pay,, likewise gold and jewels..." ..............
appropriate line for Jaipur,, a town full of beggars, gold and jewels. .... this little restaurant has filled up, a family of eight, another of six, I look up to notice they have moved all the tables to accommodate., there are people waiting, so in another world I was/am. Time to go. There are a few restaurants on this street, and a hotel, so it is popular with the beggars, Mostly tribal folk I imagine from the colorful rags they wear. Many barefoot children and woman holding their bare bottomed babies. The traffic is usually so congested here, that the kids go up to car windows. I think one of their favorite lines when they see foreigners is "shampoo" while scratching their heads. They are in need of a bath, that is for sure.. They live in large camps on the back roads, but it is a fine line..I have a friend. a devout Hindu, nice guy with a pure heart, he claims there is plenty of work, but these folk make more money begging..What to do? I give them fruit, a few rupees occasionally, but more often than not, I pull a flute out of my bag and play them the one tune I know, which isn't much of a tune,, just a scale I guess,,, do-do-do-do-do.. do-do-do-do-do... up and down, up and down... I'm getting pretty good at it...

"Ship of fools.. on a cruel sea..". the exact meaning or what this song refers to this song has eluded me.. but I did have one very revealing experience in Eugene in '93, which I think I explained elsewhere...

.. a little tuning (with no hints of...) .... St. Stephen!!!! "Lady finger dipped in moonlight.. writing; 'What for?' across the morning sky..." often as of late I ask myself this question.. but too enraptured by the music to elaborate on the subject..

>>>N.F.A>>>>a perfect way to end the day! A rockin Not Fade Away! I love the old extended Not Fade intros, ..and this one.. again, it's Phil! both guitars just providing the rhythm for Phil to dance upon with his bass... oh, to have been in the Phil zone in the seventies!!! But wait.. how did Bobby and Donna know that Jer was going to sing the first verse of Aiko before seamlessly going into Not Fade Away? Fooled me.. but they used to call me 'Gulliberry" after all...

Ah,, Grateful Dead musings... a way to amuse myself.. or try to find the muse in me... or the muse in the music.. or just an all too welcome respite from the craziness that is India....

Sugar Magnolia.. seems like I praised the glories of ending a show with this song recently, what to say? "Heads all empty... and I don't care!!" yes.. a great cleansing it was .. dancing for hours.. the audience and band giving everything they have to each other,, three to four hours of pure give and take.. to that thin line and beyond.. and back ...

Uncle John's... who could think of a sweeter encore...? Perhaps I am just partial to this song, and I could maybe think of encores as sweet ( 'Bid you goodnight" from Alpine jumps into my head... and brokedown.. and well....) as sweet,, but,, "It's the same story the crow told me,, it's the only one he knows.. like the morning sun you come.. and like the wind you go... ain't no time to hate.. barely time to wait... whoa-oh, what I want to know is.. where does the time go?"

There is one thing I have wondered.. what if any is the connection between U.J.B. and Miss. 1/2 Step; "I live in a silver mine, and I call it beggars tomb.. I got me a violin and I beg you call a tune....." and "...If all you got to live for is what you left behind...get yourself a powder charge and seal that silver mine..." I would imagine Dead Heads are always finding little connections with the songs such as these.. and the venerable Mr. Hunter must get besieged with such inquiries,.. all such quality prose and poetry being so subjected to such personal reflectuations.. But it does ignite the question stirring inside of me...
"........ How does the Song go?........"

Bobby: "Thank you'all, Good night"
Phil: "..... how sweet it is,,,thank you all, and good night...."

Huckle:.. Time travel? No problem.....

5-15-77 ....Estimated>Eyes>Drums>Samson, Ship of Fools, St. Stephen>Aiko>Not Fade Away>Sugar Mag

E.) Uncle John's Band

"Bright blue box cars, train by train.. clatter while dreams unfold.."

.Namaste... I find listening to a hot China>Rider from '73 is an appropriate way to begin this long overdue letter.... I am back in India.. for good or ill again... on a train that is pulling out of the station in Haridwar, in thirteen hours I should be arriving in Jaipur. I've bumped up a notch to an air-con sleeper, not first class, but expensive enough to keep the hordes of riff-raff out. India hasn't changed one bit. except that now they use little tiny plastic cups instead of the throw away clay ones like before. Great for the permanent layer of haze that blankets the sky in this country. the China>Rider is sweet though. Music to my ears. I've got this crappy little 6 gb ipod that someone gave me, battery doesn't hold a charge worth shit, but it's got some gems on it and has brought me great joy in many countries. Fuck 'em, - there will never be nothin' like a Grateful Dead concert. The way Jer. sings the line.. " I wish I was a headlight... on a northbound train...." Loved it then, and love it now.

Rolling through the Indian countryside, it's not so bad if you manage to get a seat in an uncrowded car. But man,, I had about five hours to pass in Haridwar, - site of this years Kumbha Mela.. very holy spot.. well,, did my usual urban exploring, came to a spot on the river where pilgrims congregate and bathe.. and there was a bridge,, and on this bridge more crippled beggars than I have seen in any one place at any one time in all my travels across this land... I guess it is not only pilgrims who bathe here, but wealthy Indians too, The Ganga attracts all Indians no matter what their social or financial status may be.. sans the Muslim population who might find the lack of non-veg food disconcerting. Meat is forbidden in such holy places. So is Alcohol, which is just as well since Indian beer is so putrid anyway...

...Half step uptown toodeloo.... someone told me about a bumper sticker they saw once.. "Hello baby.. I'm gone... Goodbye... " As for me.. I'm on my way.. .still.. on my way... across the river Ganga... across the not so lazy river... no, this river flows,, down from a glacier called Gaumukh, or 'cow's mouth' which is at an altitude of 4000 meters above the sea. The river then flows down, gathering up other little rivers and provides a lifeline for thousands of villages on it's way to the sea... It is also home to some sort of freshwater dolphin.. no, the Ganga is not a lazy river.. and now.. after Half Step,,, Big River,,, Imagine that.. this is quite an Americana set.. .. Colorado rain, West Texas cowboy,.St. Paul Minn... and now, finally,,, something a little more down to Earth.. Dark Star!!!!!!!

t's easy to to get distracted from any thoughts I was trying to convey. I think I was going to explain the sensation I had on that bridge. Well, I could picture you standing there, surrounded by kids with their hands out, touching your arm. The legless on their little pieces of wood with wheels, emancipated women sitting on the ground holding out their tin cups, and all of this going on above India's holiest river, which at this place looks like some aquatic garbage dump that people bathe in, and I picture you , standing there, taking it in, and in complete resignation, exclaiming, "This is India!" like you did so many times in similar situations during our travels here together. I tell you, India hasn't changed a bit. Why do I keep coming back? That is a question. And people ask me that, when they discover that I came from Hawaii, they ask, "why would you leave there?"... I guess it has something to do with adventure. Having done 49 of the 50 states, seeing the nicest places, rocking out to the best music, ( although I can't say that I've ever experienced a Mind Left Body Jam and though it may sound the same played by D.S.O or even the latest incarnation of the Dead, for me,, the wheel is turning and I can't go back..) .. Where was I? Adventure,, oh yeah,, I guess I'm just our and about seeking a thrill so some sort or another.. "One step done and another begun.. in I wonder how many miles..."

The train stops at a random station, I pause the M.L.B. jam, step outside for a bidi, and I'm in India again. Women in Sari's, an old lady bent over a large staff comes up to me with her little tin cup, families sitting on the ground ( I still don't understand why they don't have benches on train platforms in India.) .. .Rolling again. press play, and notice that I am 5 minutes 20 seconds into this jam with 5 minutes 20 seconds remaining.. that's a first. Hey, have you ever been to Thailand? the trains there are a lot nicer and they serve cold beer... maybe we should meet in Thailand. It's a good place for a vacation. I am going to work for the next two months and then try to cross the gauntlet into Japan. Sounds cray, but I can't seem to get a straight answer form anyone whether or not I can return there, and Air India is having a promotion now to make yup for the fact that all their pilots just called in sick for four days in an attempt to get a pay raise, so I have until tomorrow to buy the only ticket I can afford. A now or possibly never situation, which is a huge decision old Hucklebee. Not only is it not spontaneous.. (Dec. 15th -Jan 7th) but it is a gamble, I mean, what if take my ipod away and throw me in a dungeon again? But I feel like the odds of that happening are so minimum, I think the worst thing that would happen is they wouldn't allow me in and I'd have to get on the next flight back to India. I'd be out some dough, but I'd get to keep my ipod,, and I could listen to Jer. repat the line, with utmost poignancy and potency.. "I guess it doesn't matter any way..." and then hit those notes, so intentionally, so slowly, before building up to the explosive crescendo that brings tears to the eyes and sends waves of ecstasy coursing through the body...while the band follows along, taking you to the highest place that a rock n roll band can possibly take you, to the peak and beyond... before the final line.. " I guess it doesn't matter anyway!!!"


wow,, Dark Star>M.L.B. Jam>Morning Dew.. mid set...a minute of tuning before they jump into a frolicking Sugar Mag. yeah, everyone dancing, smiling,, wading in a drop of dew,, Morning Dew?..Listening to Sugar Mag always brings such joyous flashbacks.. what a Happy way to end a show. Sunshine Daydream! I tell you my brother, and I know, of all people, you can relate,, when listening to particularly hot show, it just affirms the reason that our music collection is made up of 90+% Grateful Dead. and on this night in October of '73, they come back and encored With Eyes>Stella Blue... Johnny B. Goode. I always figured the way to gage a really hot show is by the tunes Jerry plays in the second set.

Eyes... Eyes has long been gospel for me.. But now especially it rings true.. .( well, it always has.. ) but the line.. "Sometimes we live no particular way but our own,,, sometimes we visit your country and live in your home... sometimes we ride on your horses,, sometimes we walk alone,,, sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own..." followed by an incredible bass solo,,, Phil so in his prime in '73 and '74..

o.k. pause again.. another bidi. I actually love this part of traveling by train across India, when the train stops in the middle of nowhere for no apparent reason.. and the sun is setting into the dense haze. Just a big bright orange ball. Nothing but fields of green, and birds singing. this is the India I love. It's just me and India... "sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own..."Yes, I really feel that it's times like this we are the eyes of the world... and I have to say,, I have been traveling for more than a year now, and this moment, that I am sharing with you, is one of the major highlights. This too my friend, is India... maybe this is the reason I continue to return. there is an ancient vibe here, and it's shanti, so shanti. Heaven and Hell, is how I usually describe this countyr when someone asks 'what is India like?'.. Heaven and Hell,, and often in the same day... India. you can't sit in an open doorway on trains in the west. Wave back at children on their bicycles waiting to cross the tracks, see families out in the fields harvesting crops by hand, flocks of birds flying overhead, a solitary temple on the horizon. There is a type of freedom found among the chaos and mayhem that is India. To pass through villages where the pace of life hasn't changed in aeon's. There are still countless villages in India that have no cars, no phones, the villagers don't wear shoes, and there is barely enough electricity to count. ..

Back to the music.... Am I correct in calling this jam at the end of Eye's, the Seven? I know the DB lists the Seven as only played a few times, where as they did this jam quite frequently in '73 a d'74. I figured you might have the answer to this query of mine... This jam and the one in China>Rider ( which I have never seen titled) (and the exploratory Darks Star's .. and...) make '73 and '74 some of my favorite years.... And Stella Blue!! from any year....Another song I ave been intimately connecting with as of late. Taking each line to heart. I think as more and more years combine, the reflections become more pronounced and they really begin to melt into a dream... and in this state of reflections, an angle, who has come and gone, sings from a guitar...Lonely streets and vanished years.. Stella Blue... and "when all the cards are down.. and there's nothing left to see,,,," see?,, this song.. as do so many, strike very close to home.. after fifteen years on tour.. ( and almost fifteen since!) ".. there's just the pavement left, and broken dreams.." extreme I know, but it so eloquently describes how I feel about the 'American dream'. Stella Blue.. I am so grateful to have Stella Blue (and you!) in my life... I mean, who is to say that all this life is not a dream? a dream we dreamed one afternoon, long ago? Who is to say.. I read a quote recently, "There does not exist one shred of evidence to support the notion that life is serious.." Johnny B. Goode.. a little reminder that after all, the Grateful Dead is just a good ol' American Rock n Roll band... " Thank you all and Good night.."

10/19/74....China Cat Sunflower > I Know You Rider, Me & My Uncle, Mississippi Half-Step Uptown Toodeloo, Big River, Dark Star > Mind Left Body Jam > Morning Dew, Sugar Magnolia

E) Eyes Of The World > Stella Blue, Johnny B. Goode

Eid

11.09.08 Eid...the "Great Goat Sacrifice" (or slaughter). this is a festive time for Muslims. Eid. A time for feasting on mutton. I am in a Muslim neighborhood. The owner of the hotel and the majority of the shops here are Muslim. There is a mosque less than five hundred meters away from here and I hear the call to pray everyday beginning at five a.m. My hotel is four floors, my room is on the third, the building next door is two floors, it is on their rooftop, twenty feet away from my balcony that they have been accumulating goats for the past week. One, two, four, six and finally eight goats. Beautifully colored goats, tan and black, white, only males,. Often they get out of their pen and wander into the restaurant that is on the same rooftop and separated only by a bamboo wicker fence and gate to nibble on the plants, there are none on their side. Often I have to herd one or two back into their pen. Nice curious good looking animals. They look at me with curiosity as well. The owners of the restaurant are Muslim too, but the workers are all Hindu. I am a Dead Head and we all co-exist is harmony. I do however have a nice alter for Krsna in my room and bring fresh flowers and burn incense everyday. The workers who bring buckets of hot water to my room everyday for my shower appreciate this and have taken a liking to me. Plus, after three weeks I am the longest staying guest.

 

This morning my friend Mahesh comes to my room while I am doing yoga and says, "Huck, come look". As I am almost finished and only have to walk a few steps I say o.k. Not really wanting to, but for cultural reasons think I may as ell have a peek. There on the adjoining rooftop are gathered about twelve people, including babies in their fathers arms. On the ground is a goat with it's throat cut. A pool of blood and the goat is still twitching. I looked only for a split second but it was long enough to feel repulsed. In the end three goats had been killed (slaughtered or sacrificed). two lay on the ground in a big pool of blood and the other was strung up being butchered. It was a disturbing sight.

 

Why do they do this? I heard one story (from a Hindu) that once there was a kingdom that hadn't got any rain for so long the people were starving. The king was offering puja everyday to Allah praying for rain. Then Allah said to this king, "go fetch the most valuable thing in your kingdom and sacrifice it to me". The king searched and searched and the thing that was the most precious to the King was his only son. As the King was preparing to sacrifice his son, the all merciful Allah stopped him and said,  "Stop, I see how true your devotion is. Now the Rain will come.

 

Another story goes like this...."Oh God said to Abraham, "Kill me a son" Abe says,    "Man, you must be puttin' me on". God say, "No." Abe say, "What ?" God say, "You can do what you want Abe, but the next time you see me comin' you better run".Well Abe says, "Where do you want this killin' done ?" God says. "Out on Highway 61".

What  ever the story, the sight of the goat, twitching on the paved roof, blood gushing out it's throat is probably a sight that will haunt me for some time.

 

I am no scholar on Islam, but Eid is one of their biggest celebrations, but I am just wondering where in their holy book it says to slaughter a goat (or camel or buffalo or in some cases a horse) in the name of Allah. For this millions of goats die a violent death on this day. The Christians might not have a problem with this as their doctrine declares that "God gave us dominion over the animals". This is one of the primary reason I am not drawn to either of these religions.

 

Now, one might say it is just as cruel to hook a fish and leave it to die on the  deck of a boat gasping for air. I don't refute this. And for many years I have abstained from eating fish. When I dive with them in the ocean, these multi colored psychedelic looking creatures, the last thing I want to do shoot them with a spear. On some level this is an act of violence. Slicing a goats throat and letting it bleed slowly to death certainly is. This is why many times in my life, when people enquire as to what religion I am, I say Vegetarian. I am  not a Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Jew or Buddhist. I am attracted to some aspects of each of these 'religions', but there is a part of me that feels that killing is just not right. That somehow or another, just maybe, there is a link between the killing of innocent animals and the killing of each other... and that poignant song of old comes to mind.......

   "Yes 'n how many deaths will it take till we know,,,,, that too many people have died...."

day 108

Day 108 on thsi very multi faceted journey,, about to embark upon a nine hundred fifty seven kilometer, eighteen hour train ride from Jamnagar back to Jaipur. I was planning on spending the new year on the coast in Dwarka, but unbeknowst to me, One hundred thousand Hindu's were converging on that spot for a seven day festival so wasn't a room to be had. I did spend Christmas day and night in this holy pilgrimage site, and got to watch the sun decend into the haze before it finally dipped into the haze that hovers above this country... The Haze, it blankets the whole country below the Himalayas. The haze, I borrow this term from the weather section of the newspaper where the forecast is never 'sunny' but 'hazy'. The Haze, nothing a kin to that famous strain developed some years ago. "This is India" an old traveling companion of mine loved to say with utter contemp and cynicysm as he was days until his departure. Wishing only that they had good 'haze' in this country,,, Travelling by train in India has a certain nostalgic feel to it. Certainly the coaches aren't new. The horn that blows constantly warning people and animals of the trains approach,, most of the roads that cross the tracks have gates which are still operated manually, by men who wave green flags as the trains pass. Thus far our coach is relatively empty, but this is rarely the case. On my last train ride, the woman next to me had facial hair, a funny boice, and many missing teeth. I couldn't tell if she was a man before and her partner, a woman who must have weighed more than three hundred pounds, had layers of fat buldfing out everywhere her sari didn't cover. And there was a man sitting beside her. Four of us, o na bench for three, I was squished by the window for three hours. Thinking if I had been tripping I owuld have fled. Now, after that harrowing experience, the complete opposite occurs,,, two hours into this trip, there are stil three of us in this berth, A young guy dressed smartly and a baba dressed in saffron, long white hair and beard, They are chatting away in Gujarati. We pull into a station and four boys rush into the berth excitedly, they have three large bags of food with them, complet with a metal tray, cups and real silverware. Also a blanket, which they give to the baba. They address them as Guruji, and when the train starts rolling less than five minutes later, they all touch his his feet and hhurry off the train. When the train is moving, this couple invites me to join them in the feast, nad I mean feast. The baba ensuring I get a proper serving, I offered them some chikus afterwards which they accepted. Neither of them speaks english,, at the next stop, an hour later, the scene was repeated except with two young children and their mothers, and a few men, They all know what coach and seat he was sitting in. Then then as thge train started rolling, they all ran to the windows outside to say their good-byes,,,and receive some final blessings. Both of these stops last less than five minures,. Now this, "is India!" India, where you experience Heaven and Hell, often in the same day. Where there is trash everywhere and whole avenues in modern cities reeek of sewage, and not only that, but the toilets in teh trains are just holes where you can see the tracks go by beneath,, and trains criss cross the whole country,,, India,,,. Where beautiful children live with their families on the sidewalds of busy intersections, barefoot and wearing only rags, so that they can beg from the buses and rickshaws that stop at the light, India, where traffec laws are te[;aced byu orns, where there is no such concept as 'waiting' in line, it is just a free for all, India, whre you will never get a straight answer on how much a rickshaw or taxi csts. Yes it is easy to get fed up in this country, until you meet some baba on the train who has nothing, and ends up feeding you one of the best meals you've had in the country,, India is a trip alright, I don't think there is anywhere else like it on Earth. If Thailand is called the land of smiles, India might as well be called the land of the Head Bobbing people,,, the way they move their heads from side to side like would to indicate an emphatic 'no', for the Indians, this could mean yes, sure, maybe, why not? maybe, as you like, I agree, ... it is not an easy expression to read or imitate, It is distinctly Indian

terrorists in Mumbai

"Terrorists strike  India"…"War in Mumbai"… "Terror uninterrupted", these have been the headlines in the papers the last two days. I have received e-mails wondering if I am o.k. One saying it is good I am not "five starring it". There was an article on the numerological significance of the local attack in India. To wit: there was an attack in Jaipir  on May 13, one in Ahmeddabad on July 26, one in Delhi, Sept. 13, and this one in Mumbai  Nov. 26..pointing out that the numbers 4 and 8 rule Saturn and the year 2008. 13 comes to 1+3=4 and 2+6=8. I don't know about all this. Am I in harm's way? Who can say, probably a lot safer on Maui., or even Pakistan for that matter.

 

Disasters are a sensitive issue, one can rarely predict nor prevent them from striking. Sure, one can live either in fear or in caution, the latter might being the prudent approach, but what of earthquakes and tsunamis? It has been noted that none of the tribal folks in Sri Lanka perished because they noticed the animals behaving strangely. Also, no animals were killed there either. Animals seem to have a sixth sense about such things. That said, this morning very early I was awakened by every dog in the neighborhood barking very loudly, very unusual, could this have been the prelude to an earthquake? It might have been wise of me to evacuate the building instead of laying there waiting and wondering. I did not.

 

I responded to one letter of concern stating that "our time comes when our time comes, that I am not putting myself in harms way like that of a soldier or reporter." While I do believe this, that our destiny lies in fates hand, and admit that I am influenced by eastern mystics who claim that death is a mere doorway, just another facet of life, there is a part of me that is very far  from being ready to step through that door. Especially if what many claim lie beyond is true, another birth. The prospect of doing this all over again, while perhaps inevitable, doesn't thrill me.    

 

It is easy to philosophize about such things from a distance, or to be numbed by the shocking news, so commonplace it is in the media today. Capturing peoples attention like so many other forms of entertainment. And in many cases such as this one, the terrorists use this to their advantage. In this case striking India at a time when the west would wake up to the news, thereby maximizing their impact across the globe.

 

Jaipur is on high alert today. Foreign nationals are warned to stay away from tourist attractions and be on guard. More security is being placed at bus stands and railway stations. Having little choice, I will weather the storm, go about my business. Although I will do a special puja, not only for the victims of the latest tragedy, but for those suffering all across the globe. I will try and set aside the endless chatter taking place within my mind regarding my insignificant plight, that of trying to travel and do business without the necessary funds, and focus on others who have it a lot worse off than I. There are hungry children in the streets of Jaipur, whom I usually ignore, due to the sheer numbers of them. Today, if nothing else, upon encountering them, I will offer a prayer when I run out of my daily allotment of rupees to give them. I realize this will do nothing to alleviate the pangs of hunger they may feel in their stomach, but maybe it will soften my heart a bit to their plight. 

Mosquito Wars

All is peaceful on the home front. A typical evening, laying in bed reading a book. When I see something flicker across my field of vision just above my glasses, A mosquito? Yes, silently and stealthily it had just sampled the taste of blood from my forehead. I respond quickly, but this little cousin of the vampire quickly vanishes into thin air. I like to think there is just one, and if I eliminate  it I can sleep through the night. But these buggers are sly, usually waiting until I am fast asleep to attack. And in the wee hours of the morning, long before the sun rises, they seem to be less concerned with the stealth factor. Either that or a full belly of fresh blood from a sleeping victim makes them lazy. But they are then no less quick, as I discover upon waking to the buzz of an attacker which seems to amplify as it invades my dream space. I turn the light on and prepare for battle, for there is no peaceful solution to this conflict.

 

They can suck my blood if they want to or really need to, I'll grant them that, but when they get greedy and insist upon waking me from a deep slumber, preventing me from receiving adequate rest after a long day of being a human. Well, one has to put their foot down somewhere, or arm oneself with a book, magazine, writing pad or often with just our bare hands.  For such a tiny creature to cause such a large disturbance is surely one of nature's great imbalances. The fact that mosquitoes are known to be the delivery systems for deadly diseases notwithstanding.

 

These desert mosquitoes are a tough breed, small, usually silent, and often unnoticed until the wound is inflicted, they seem immune to my usual mosquito defense system. This is a technique that involves offering them my bare forearm as bait. This white fleshly target bulging with veins is usually too hard to resist for most mosquitoes I have encountered. But these ones so quickly go into hiding after they are detected, waiting, however long it takes, till I am either back asleep or let my guard down. Then they return with a vengeance. Again my rest is disturbed by what sounds like a dive bomber flying right into the eardrum. And the battle ensues...

Yet again,  just laying peacefully in bed, reading by the dim light, I notice something fly by in very close proximity to my head. I get up, turn on the bright florescent and scour the environs. Almost invisible, the attacker lands on my arm. I poise to strike, but the bugger is so small the slight breeze created by my swift slap is enough to send him flying. He disappears again. I lay and wait, I notice that he has struck. Beside my forehead, a solid blow (or bite) to my forefinger, just above the large knuckle. And the tiny space on my back just above the waist that was exposed. Tired I give up the hunt, hoping he has had his fill. He hasn't, he comes back for more. Up again, light on, I wait, in nothing but shorts and a t-shirt. Out of nowhere he lands on my knee. Carefully I take aim, but an imperceptable quiver sends him flying off to obscurity. There is only one, and tonight he is the victor.

Where do they vanish too I wonder? I call it a battle because this is not the occasional bite, but a planned attack, pre-meditated on their part. They are a well trained militia, when one falls it is soon replaced by another familiar with the tactics, the territory, the optimum places of concealment. This is a small room, yet they manage to stay hidden until the time is right. Like when I sleep. Then, if there is any part of my body exposed, they feast. I say 'they', but it may be just one or two. Any more and I doubt they could conceal there whereabouts, their stronghold, so thoroughly.

How can one sleep while a foreign agent is penetrating the skin with it proboscus, drawing blood and leaving an irritating little bump? Once again I am awakened by a little blood sucking spawn of the devil. The light comes on and the battle begins. This is serious business. Praying to the gods offers no respite, and for this miniscule insect to be so successful at altering my sleep patterns is unaccetable. For lack of proper rest inhibits ones ability to function properly, affects ones mental state, and could quite possibly be knocking precious moments off the ticking clock that measures ones lifespan. It has become a question of survival.

morning at the chai stall

This photo was taken in December,, since then I have been to the Big Isle, Maui, Los Angeles, Tucson, Bangkok and Hua Hin.... now it is mid March and we are back in Jaipur,, hit the street for chai before dawn as is my custom,, and found the same exact crew there,, me, the chai walla, and the same five girls.. thought I'd jot down a few words about the experience as it moved me then and it moved me again today. I don't really know the story,, but these girls are out on the streets every morning hauling around huge bags which they fill with plastic,, this is India's recycling program,, they get maybe the equivolent of a dime for every kilo they pick up,,, or five rupees.... I assume they do pretty well as there is so much plastic everywhere. Notice the plastic cups they are drinking out of,, well, there are no trash cans in these parts, when finished you just deposit on the ground,,, what doesn't get picked up in the early a.m. gets swept into a pile and burned, probably contributing to the fact that the sky is always 'hazy' over most of this country. I bought them a round of chai after taking their picture,,, showed them the image on the back of the camera which got them all giggling. Unfortunatly I am quite shy when it comes to taking pictures of people,,, unfortunate because in this country there are so many shots like this, everyday... yesterday it was the four beggar kids following us blowing a whistle,,,they were so cute,,, but I had already given my daily quota of rupees away, and these kids couldn't quite understand that,, blowing their whistle hoping we would tire of it and give in and give them some change,... it might of worked too had I any left.,,, I don't think they even owned shoes or other clothes than the rags they were wearing, but they were all smiles, obviously enjoying messing with this tourist... one of the few Hindi words I know is 'chelo' which means 'go!" and even when used as a command is completely ignored by all beggars... there are just too many people in India. It has been suggested that India implement a one child only policy like China,,, but I doubt this will go over,, especially with the Muslim population that seems bent on having as many children as possible,, 7-10 being the norm... this is a wild country,,, and this but one small facet of it.... the sun is up,,, the chai finished,,, ( I get five tiny cups in a plastic bag to bring back to my office here,,, ) and it is time to get on with our day...... aloha...