I’m Out Of The Box?
My son Josh is watching the demonstrations in Hong Kong right now. Back to containment againl No doubt given a push by the U.S.
Hong Kong Umbrella Revolution
The neocon foreign policy…I mean by people like Kristol, Kissinger, Wolfowitz, Perle, Brzezinski, Cheney and a lot of those people who have been on the Defense Board for a long time…was a reaction to the soft politics of the “new left” many of which were former “ Old Left” communists or former communists. Leftists and liberals who are disappointed with Utopianism become Revolutionaries. Or sell out and buy into a 401k because they want to educate their kids.
BTW, the family of Martin Luther King won a civil suit against the government proving it was the FBI-CIA who were terrified of King and had him killed but you never saw this in the press. And it was the FBI who saturated the Black community with drugs during the Black power movement to pacify them. You probably can find a video which I’ve seen of Ramsey Clark, Attorney General under Johnson, describing how it worked during his tenure. Some even argue with some evidence that the counter-culture and free speech movements was infiltrated and encouraged in in it’s excesses in order to turn the general population against it. With some success I might add.
People think presidents have all this power and know what’s going on. Not true. They just make promises they can’t keep.
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Love Itself
Exquisite. Clearest expression of an experience in meditation I’ve ever heard. In…and out again in the space between the “Nameless and the Named.” The inner silence and love sticks to you more and more each time.
Ultimate freedom is on the inside…not the outside. But everyone, if they want it, has to figure that out for themselves in their own time. Sometimes it takes a lifetime. Sometimes it never happens.
But as Pico Iyer says: It takes courage, of course, to step out of the fray, as it takes courage to do anything that’s necessary, whether tending to a loved one on her deathbed or turning away from that sugarcoated doughnut.
Who Do We Trust?
Trust is a double edged sword. It may slay us on the outside. But too much caution may slay us on the inside. Keeping our lens clear is how we know the difference between the two at any one moment. I think. For me, meditation is what clears my lens.
One of my favorite former Couchsurfers posted this reflective piece on Facebook this morning. It not only relates to reading between the lines of a Couchsurfng profile but the whole host/surfing experience…not only to pre and post hosting/surfing communication but in deciding who to vouch.
I think in the matter of trust it also illustrates that it is not only good for surfers to have hosted but that it is good for hosts to have traveled.
And I thought it worth sharing in the interest of knowing who to trust, especially when we are traveling solo, and in life generally.
Who Do You Trust?
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Am I Mexican? No I am Oaxacan!
I took a test on FB to see how Mexican I was. 100% Mexican? I guessed at half of them. Most of these questions have to do with northern Mexico or Mexicans who haven’t been in the country for a generation or more. Not southern Mexico which I think is an entirely different country!
You attend every baile in town…that would be impossible
Cowboy boots? No, very worn leather sandals.
Rush home to watch your favorite novella? Don’t have TV and wouldn’t watch novellas if I had one and neither do my Oaxacan friends. They don’t identify with white-skinned “Mexicans” in fancy homes with time on their hands.
Home cooked carne asada and chile rellenos? Sometimes. What local has all day to cook…go to the nearest Comida Corrida for a 4 course $2 mole. Or most often Memelas and Tlayudas on the street.
I do prefer flan and love the taste of horchata. But Tajate is the drink of choice here. Or Jugos.
There are coronas stored in your fridge? People laugh at Coronas here and think they are for tourists. Only Indio, Victoria or Negra Modelo.
Not corridos or bandas…that’s old fashioned! It’s Cumbia all the way if you want traditional and then Cumbia is originally Columbian!
You get angry when they play salsa music in a Mexican restaurant, and are fluent in Spanish? WTF? Salsa classes all over town. Or Cuban Danzon! Or Zumbia for exercise!
You are an avid supporter of immigration reform, and only go to Taco Bell when you don’t feel like cooking? Proves this is a test about people across the border who have no street food. But I remember Roach Coaches there with darned good food!
You have pictures of the Holy Virgin on your wall and take your Catholic faith serious? No way! Only the old ladies…who are only serious about their own private indigenous rituals.
No meal is complete without some Tapatio sauce? No way…only homemade salsa! They don’t like a lot of chile heat here.
You aren’t afraid to blast “Jefe de Jefes” or “El Paisano” by Los Tigres del Norte? Who is that? Lila Downs is the queen! Clubs all play electronic DJ or covers of Mexico City bands like Zoe and Mana. Or Control Machete!
I am not ashamed, I am 100% Oaxacan! lol Well, maybe 99% 😉 I still like my own fried eggs over medium.
Facebook Is Not The Problem
I love to follow former couchsurfers on Facebook. Paul is one of them.
Everyone is complaining about the same thing and it’s not Facebook. Facebook is not the problem he says. You are.
Paul stayed with me a week in Oaxaca when he was on his way from Utah to Venezuela on his bicycle…his sax in a little wagon behind it. Born in China but raised in Boston, this intelligent and talented guy with dreadlocks is now in a small rural town in Viet Nam where he is establishing a music school for youngsters…The Bamboo School.
My Couchsurfers have added great joy to my life and even more when I get to follow them on Facebook.
Thinking of becoming an expat?
I have been living in Oaxaca for the last 14 years. I now have a permanent resident card.
I still have a home in Oregon that is rented out to excellent renters for just enough money to cover the mortgage and taxes. I wanted to give it to them cheaply so they couldn’t afford to move! 🙂
Keeping a permanent address there (although other people have used relatives etc.) is very helpful because, one, the Dept of Motor Vehicles requires it and whenever I return for visiting friends and family or business I keep a car there. It would be nearly impossible to get around without it. I have car insurance on both my car here and my car there. I keep comprehensive on the car there yearly and just call the company to put collision back on it when I arrive back in the states. If you keep a car in your home country you will need to find a place to keep it.
Two, all my banking and business interests are linked to this permanent address. I pay federal and some state taxes in Oregon linked to this address. My Social Security and pension is linked to this address. And my Health Plan. Not having a permanent address in the home country can be a nightmare.
But most important I need to be fairly close to Oregon since Medicare health insurance will only pay for medical care that is accessed in the States. I have my annual check-ups there and my 90 day drug subscriptions are sent to my address there. I pick them up whenever I return there…couple times a year. If I run out before I get there I can get them here inexpensively. I don’t have them sent here by post or FedEx/DHL because customs often confiscates them.
However, we are thinking now to sell the house. If I develop a chronic health problem I can still return to the U.S. and rent.
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All is Transformed
Frank And Kids In The Zocalo
For nearly 15 years Frank sat at the same table every day in front of a coffee shop in the zocalo…often making friends with passersby, vendors…and especially the children. He had a Ph.d in French Lit but lived the life he wanted…poorly and close to the people.
At 5pm he played chess in front of the cathedral. The players loved him and looked up to him. Ivan, his friend and competitor, organized a chess tournament in Frank’s memory in the Zocalo last night with about 30 players receiving a medal and photo. Thank you Ivan! His ashes will be scattered on Sunday the 26. He was an irascible old goat sometimes but had a big big heart that not everyone saw and I miss him terribly.
As an old Marxist, Frank was a non-believer. The last book he was reading when he died was a book about Einstein. Underneath a framed photo that Ivan gave me of Frank, Ivan had this inscribed:
NADA SE CREA NADA SE DESTRUYE TODO SE TRANSFORMA
NOTHING IS CREATED NOTHING IS DESTROYED ALL IS TRANSFORMED
HASTA SIEMPRE FRANK
Frank Died Last Night
He was “just” a friend…an eccentric friend…but a good friend with heart. For years he spent $70 a month living here. He sat at the same table in the same coffee shop in the Zocalo every single day with one cup of coffee…then moving in front of the cathedral to play chess with the best players around. If I was ever lonely or wanted company I knew he would be there.
This is a poem he gave to another friend a year ago around his birthday on September 23rd. He knew.
so wonderful the decline
how sweet the lowering
crumbling asundering
ebbing delightfull
sliding toward stilness
unrevelling simply
secretly tumbling
fading along down
reaching under
slipping ever
Hear That Holy Sound
You see what is in you if you look for it. Traveling the world for the last 12 years I have felt it. Each day is the best day these days…at the age of 70.
Laughingnomad 