Cameron Highlands, Near Death in the Malaysian Jungle

The old growth forest has been cut down long ago. New trees have sprung, but there’s still a battle dominance for the canopy, some light filtering through, allowing more bramble than normal on the rain forest floor.

Mankind has made his presence known, carving plantations into the forest where the hills are less steep.

Man's presence in the jungle

Precipitation begins as I join an expedition with two newly graduated German doctors, exploring the surrounding wilderness. The rain comes harder making the path slick as we ascend and descend the steep hillsides.

We enter into denser jungle, carefully climbing over the roots of large trees up a nearly vertical path. I feel something on my skin. I pull up my sleeve and find a leech attached to my upper arm. Adrenaline rushes through me as I pull it off and smash it. Blood squirts everywhere- my blood, a tax exacted by nature for her exploration.

Waterfall in Cameron Highlands

We climb the steep hills, then slowly descend. After several miles we reach a cross-roads, lost. The sun is rapidly falling in the sky, and being lost in this leech filled jungle for a cold night is not an enticing proposition. We argue over which way to go, eventually agreeing to take a path through thick shrubbery up and over the mountain. Huffing and puffing, we reach the top, then ever so slowly descending back down. We find a trail to our great relief.

jungle vegetation

The ultra-narrow path takes the nimbleness of a mountain goat to traverse, as it cuts horizontally across the steep mountain, the ground falling out at a near 90 degree angle below us. Fall and it might be death, best case scenario- serious injury. We slowly make our way, the ground slick from the rains.

Out of nowhere, a large python-like water pipe emerges, feeding a tea plantation in the distance slithering along our trail. We’re relieved not to be far from town as darkness overtakes the sky. I take a deep breath and suddenly feel the footing beneath me give way. I feel the instant acceleration of gravity pull me downwards; going over the ledge, without any thought, I instinctively grab onto the friendly snake. My hand catches, and I pull myself up, before my surprised doctor friends even have any chance to react.

“How did you that? How did you have the presence of mind to grab the pipe?”

No mind involved there, no thought. Instinct leading to clear action that saved my life. I rub the mud off my clothing and we continue on our way.

Tea plantation

The Great Wall of China- Breathtaking

The Great Wall of China, the largest man made structure in the world which extends thousands of miles up mountains, through valleys and winds through desert. Built starting the 4th century BC to keep Mongol and Manchurian hordes out of Beijing, it took over two centuries to complete.
It is the only man made structure on earth visible with the naked eye from space. Man’s creations rarely impress me, but this one did. With a span of maybe twenty feet across and 40 feet high, it befuddled my imagination that people so long ago were able to create such a structure. The answer as to how, as often is the case in ancient times- slave labor. (Nike and Walmart are quite the history students)

But back to building the wall. Material other than stone and brick were often used to fill the wall by workers who wished they would just finish the damn thing so they could go home. Take two slaves, Larry and David. David nudges Larry and finds him unresponsive.
David: “Larry died!”
David then proceeds to encase Larry’s body in stone, and then hears a pounding from within.
Larry: “I was asleep you idiot!”
David: (pretending not to hear) “He will be missed.”
And Davey walks away from his best friend, leaving him in his stone encased tomb. Why? Cause it brought it him one ten-billionth of the way closer to finishing. And when he’s finished, Davey can finally go home.
Larry: “You idiot! You schmuck!”

The heroes Sir Andrew Stern and Rich Birecki begin their ascent of the Great Wall

The Great Wall runs up a steep hill, crowded with people beginning the climb. Each step is difficult, as stairs range in height from three inches to a foot and a half, and takes great concentration and focus to reach the next military turret on the wall.
As we continue upwards, the crowd thins. After 2,000 steps we reach the second to last turret. Drew suggests we return, as we've already used up most of our prescribed time.

“Chairman Mao said you are not great hero, until you climb the Great Wall!” (a true quote) I stoically replied. Thus, we began our final assault on the peak. The lack of oxygen makes every step painful, as though a knife were to have been plunged within our lungs. Our path is littered with the frozen bodies of climbers, who didn’t quite make it--- wait a second, that’s my climb of Mount Everest. The bodies here were not frozen.
But, indeed, we made it to the empty top, where only the hardiest 1% of all tourists manage to climb. (persistence, as in life, separates the wheat from the chaff)

The landscape- inspiring; the Great Wall twisting its way through the valley, as we rest contentedly, knowing that the only thing currently stopping the Mongolian hordes from storming China's new two true heroes standing upon the Wall’s peak.

A view of the Great Wall from the it's peak

The Daintree Rainforest- Danger Everywhere

Australia- proud to be the land of the world's deadliest snakes and spiders. Just about everything in the land of Aus is poisonous. 
Visiting the Daintree Rainforest in North Eastern Australia, we had an aboriginal guide who opened his tour of the forest showing us all the perils of the land:

"Right, you never want to go into rivers or ponds round here. Crocs- pull you under, bad way to go. This time of year, you don't want to put a toe into the ocean either. Box jellyfish, can't even see them. Deadly poisonous. You see this bush. Don't touch it, it's got prickers, penetrate your skin, go to straight into your bloodstream and into your heart, kill you. You see this red berry here. I advise against eating it, leave you dead within a few minutes. (a snake slithers into view) Take ay looky there, a King Brown. Second deadliest snake in the world. don't get close! (snake slithers back into the bush) Ay, now that's better! ... Oh wait, you see this cherry like thing. This you can eat, but not more than one. Otherwise you'll go blind."'

Daintree Rainforest along the Queensland coast

Why I am Voting for Barrack Obama

We take a break from our regularly scheduled programming to bring you this important update: Your favorite Travel Genius has decided to vote for Barrack Obama.

Though I normally lean slightly to the left, this decision hasn't been easy for me. Here are the factors involved

Pro for Romney: He's in favor of global warming, and yours truly likes warm weather.

Con: He flip-flops on so many issues you could wear him to beach.

In Massachusetts he was pro choice and gun control. Now in order to earn his party's nomination, he has magically changed his mind on both. I don't trust him. 

Clinching Con: During the second debate, Romney said that all dividends and interest up to 250k should be untaxable.
That's great for me, but fundamentally unfair to a person working their ass off as a teacher or construction worker to feed their family. Who is creating more benefit for society? The teacher, or some wealthy person living off interest payments?
Romney's plan is fundamentally unfair, and even though it goes against my well being to vote against him, I believe society is stronger and more stable when the playing field is level, when we reward those who produce benefit for society, not lazy asses who can sit back and live off accumulated wealth.

That said, I think there has to be the right balance between taxation, and an incentive to create businesses and thus new jobs, In California for example, businesses are taxed to death.

There are things I believe Obama has done well- getting us back into good graces with the rest of the world post George Bush, opening up belief in the impossible (who would have thought the US would ever elect a black president,) the fact that we haven't had a large terrorist attack in America despite dire warnings from Republicans trying to scare people that this would happen if we elected a "soft" Democrat.

In general, I respect Romney, and don't think him a horrible individual as so many lefties would have you believe. The decision wasn't easy for me, but Romney's stance on taxation was the clincher, as it simply struck me as unfair and not the direction I want America to travel down.

We'll get back on track with our travels adventures shortly. Hope you have enjoyed this commercial time out.

Deadly Scorpions, and Why Burmese People Are So Sweet

Night falls. I walk back towards my room, an outline on the barely illuminated pathway triggers an ancient neurological association, instantly stopping me dead in my tracks. Scorpion! Small, poisonous, deadly.

Burmese scorpion- best to avoid

I stare, the beast sits perfectly still, completely unconcerned by my presence. I could walk around this creature, but suddenly see an image of it lashing it out at me like a snake. They're related right? I mean, they're both poisonous ... Where's Charles Darwin when you need him?

"Do you have a lot of scorpions around here?" I call out to the hotel worker I passed ten yards back. 

"Oh, all the time," he replies from the darkness behind me, offering me no sense of relief, 

He approaches me and Scorpy, surveys the scene, and takes immediate action. I'm certain something along the lines of "smashy-smashy" is about to take place, and am shocked when he takes a piece of paper, covers Scorpy's eyes, and dexterously picks him up by his fat tail. Scorpy's mad, thrashing his body around like a hooked shark, trying to sting my friend, but his grip on the tail is secure. 

I sit there, jaw agape, amazed by the quickly unfolding events. He turns and approaches me with Scorpy still thrashing about, instinctively I begin to run the other away, like a woman from a mouse; the only thing missing is me shrieking, standing on a narrow stool in the corner. 

My friend laughs, surprised and amused by my reaction. For him, scorpions are a daily occurrence. 

"What will you do with him?" I ask. 

"Release him outside the hotel grounds." Smiling, he walks away to finish his duty. 

I'm floored, amazed. He put his health/ life at risk, and used extra time to transport this deadly insect/ spider/reptile/alien being (whatever Darwin says) out of harms way. 

Lying on my mattress, I'm unable to sleep. The scene playing out in my head, Scorpy's fate so different than it would have been anywhere else. Why? 

The Sweetness of Burmese

The Burmese are the sweetest and most open on the planet I have experienced; only the Balinese and Fijians rivaling. 

I think of a conversation I had with a young women who works at the hotel, whom mid-conversation I felt like gently taking into my arms and holding to protect. She's so open, so sweet, so present, ready to help me, answer any question I might have had. No fear, no angst in her. I swear to you, this ultimate in male/ female energy polarity is almost a religious experience. 

And while I'm certain not all Burmese could be described as open and sweet, the average person is far more kind and easy going than in the in the West. 
I relate the scorpion story to a fellow traveler, he replies, "It's Buddhism man. They are taught to respect ALL life. Hell, when they pray they're praying for the happiness of the world, not just their own." 

Buddhism teaches respect for all life, including scorpions (I don't necessarily agree.) It teaches a unity of beings in the world- all interconnected.
And karma. No Buddhist wants to kill a creature and come back in a reincarnation in the form of the being whose life he put to end. 

While the Burmese are more prudish than the Thais, Buddhist countries don't have the same stigma around sex that exists in areas of the world dominated by Catholicism or Islam. It's just a part of life, accepted. There is little resistance.
In all the time I was in Burma, I don't think I once heard someone raise their voice in anger. No one got mad when I wouldn't buy from them. 

Newly made Burmese friends at a wedding we crashed

In Brazil, if you show any signs of wealth, or even are recognized as a tourist, you are instantly targeted for mugging/ robbery. In Myanmar, where the average person has far less than their Brazilian counterparts, there is zero crime.

For sure it is partly the draconian penalties imposed by the military junta government for even petty theft. There are rumors of tourists accusing Burmese of ripping them off, and the military throws the offending party in boiling water.

According to a fellow traveller, Martin, who now resides in Burma: "the reason why Myanmar people appear to be very nice to foreigners are

- hospitality is important in their culture
- curiosity
- most haven't had bad experiences with westerners
- openly shown anger is usually last resort in a personal conflict
- hierarchical society and foreigners are seen as pretty high."

For sure the government isn't great: traffic cops take bribes and if you don't have the cash, instead throw you in jail, the military continues to commit unspeakable atrocities against its own people ... the list goes on.

But the average person you interact with wants to help you, smiles freely, wants to learn from you and is willing to patiently answer any question you have, wants to be friends.
When you're amongst these economically poor people, one cannot help to judge them far wealthier than most Westerners as they truly seem to enjoy life, share what little they have, and seem to have far less ego/ insecurity.
The best thing Burma is definitely its people- just ask Scorpy.

Ancient Bagan Temples- Welcome Indiana Jones

I walk from my hotel gates. Not more than 50 yards later, I arrive at the edge of town. I plunge ahead, down a road rarely travelled. The path, uneven, muddy, surrounded by shrubbery on either side, most of it prickly. An electric feeling floods my body as the ancient temples of Bagan rise before me. Welcome Indiana Jones.

temples of Bagan- in the distance

I approach, enchanted by the Buddhist architecture of a millennia past. The sun drops below the horizon, the darkness adding a flavor of adventure as I cautiously navigate between the structures, carefully treading to avoid any scorpion or serpent protectors.
There isn't a another soul around. I stand for ten minutes barely moving a muscle, taking in my surroundings. These temples, built my man's fascination of life beyond himself. I think of the tremendous amount of work that went into their construction. Hauling the stones, the engineering, the pains taking attention to detail, the artwork on the walls within.
Today they sit as monuments, a dulled echo of ancient times pulsating still today.

"Welcome, Indiana Jones."

VIDEO: check out a quick view of my POV amongst the temples in the New Bagan area 

Many many Buddhas

Twelfth century painting inside one of the temples

three buddhas

Built between the 11th and 13th centuries, over 10,000 Buddhist temples, and pagodas were originally constructed, only 2,200 still survive, extending over forty square miles of the Bagan plains. To see each individually is virtually impossible. 

Some of the temples have been renovated with obviously new materials by the military junta that blend in as seamlessly as a great white shark waddling around the Louvre upright on his tail. 

Others still have an ancient quality that helps quiets the mind, as one contemplates just how long they have stood.

The best view I saw in Myanmar- by far

I climb to the top of one the larger structures. The view is breath taking. I sit there for an hour contemplating life, and its innate simplicity.
Although seeming so obvious in the moment, back home the essence of life, the natural love and joy that exists within us all, is often clouded by the ego which would have us believe we must achieve to be worthy.
The same ego that gave us world wars, the nuclear bomb, and terrorism. The same double edged sword named ego which ordered these temples built, that created the Vatican, the cellphone, and the Internet as we know it today.
I stare out at the magnificent view, the wind howling around me, contemplating all mankind has created, and think to myself that ego might have been a necessary part of our evolution.
Several deep breaths later, I fall into a grateful appreciation of my surroundings. I feel a unification with all life, as the past and the future merge with the Now. For a few minutes, my sense of self melts away into deep peace.
I'm not enlightened, I only see flashes of ultimate reality. In a few minutes my mind will pull me away from this moment.
However, I feel joy that these glimpses of the deep harmony that exists grow longer and more frequent. That's the beauty of travel, it helps both open, and subdue the mind, if you're willing to allow it.

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A look inside an old temple

check out this video of the best view I found in Myanmar- by far

Rough Riding- Burmese Bus Travel

The rain abates. Heavy tires leave grooves in the muddy road, making our walk to the bus perilous. One of us slips and falls, her clothes sloppily caked in dripping earth and stagnant water. She flaps her arms like a bird, attempting to dislodge the mud, the disgusted look on her face means she’s aware of the smell. I hope she’s not seated near me.

We climb on board and hand our $10 ticket to the bus line employees, who smilingly accept, taking our luggage and piling it atop the back seat, often enduring the long, bumpy rides seated nearby, the suitcases precariously piled around them.

We wait for a couple more passengers to fill out the bus, pushing back our departure. What’s a little time in Burma?

a local bus in Burma

At last our bus leaves the station, slowly sliding around the mud, like a mammoth in a tar pit trying to regain its footing. I sway side to side as though on a boat, reminding me how easily sea sick I get. I try to close my eyes, but am buzzed by fighter jets flying overhead- malarial mosquitoes, zeroing on in their next target.

I’m focused now; one goal- kill the enemy. A mosquito flies just out of reach; I jump up and slap my hands together causing half of the bus to rotate their heads towards the sound’s emanation, gaining witness to the furious war taking place around them. I examine my weapons and find them stained with fresh blood from my slain adversary’s last meal. I proudly show my conquest to those around me, their Herculean protector, this vampire shall not feed again! … There are no applause.

I sit back down, disenchanted by the lack of appreciation for my heroics. Nevertheless, I remain resolved I shall not be bitten. I'm alert, awaiting my opportunity to strike as these blood thirsty parasitic abominations circle in formation, calculating coordinates for their next run.

A poor man’s speaker system distorts the shrieks of actors at jet engine decibels, as a movie plays on the flat-screen upfront. Their one noted over-acting would earn them an instant rejection from any Los Angeles based casting agent. We’re an hour into the movie and the actors haven’t broken once from their action of screaming at one another. I find this at odds with the peaceful and soft spoken people I have met in this country. I decide the movie must be Chinese.

A half hour later, the shrieking momentarily stops as the movie is rewound and begins anew. I groan, but no one can hear me over the yelling.

Our bus bravely plods down the unpaved road, lurching from side to side, sliding down the face of potholes large enough to have been left by some ancient collision with an asteroid. Nauseous, sea sick, my stomach is in rebellion, I’m about to heave any second.

At the last moment, our bus stops. We scurry from the beast's belly. While everyone else takes in dinner, I sit by the side of the road, looking into the sheer darkness ahead, trying to regain some semblance of balance, trying to let the wave of nausea wash away.

Twenty minutes later we board again. People around me begin to doze off. I too, try to close my eyes, to no avail. The bus jolts, throwing me from my seat. I readjust myself and curl my body into a fetal position, attempting to give myself a fighting chance against the air conditioner which has suddenly kicked into overdrive.

Snores blare around me of operatic quality, and through their combined effort trump my screaming actor friends I have gotten to know so well as the looped movie starts up for a third time. As if on cue, I’m walloped by a curry laced fart of nuclear capability sending my senses into overload, momentarily blinding me as my body shuts down, a desperate attempt to protect itself from this inhospitable environment. Fight or flight instinct kicks in, but there’s nowhere to run, and no one to fight. Out of vengeance I slap my hands together, attempting to squash an invisible mosquito, but no one can hear my protests above the snores.

At 3 AM we pull into a rest stop, parking alongside 30 other buses, probably the only stop for 50 miles in either direction.

a billboard at our last stop- Burma will be changing quickly!

A couple late night eateries serve weary travelers.  Whitey gets stares as he groggily plods his way to the restroom, scratching the sixty bites he received for the half minute he managed to doze-off.

Hundreds of mosquitoes line the bathroom walls. I regain my sense of self, sending me on a killing spree. Vengeance is temporarily mine! That is, until I return to the U.S. and likely discover I have malaria.

I walk back outside and realize in my zombie like state I have managed to forget which bus I am on. 

I sprint from bus to bus, looking for some clue. I do two laps around the station, not far from panicking. Someone waves at me, recognizing Whitey might be lost. I board my bus, smiling at our friendly driver. “How much longer are you going to play the movie?” I ask.

“Oh, I didn't realize it was even still on,” he replies.

I walk back to my seat. Our driver has dutifully turned off the screaming actors, leaving me only the un-melodic snores of my Burmese friends to keep me company.  I smile, appreciating what my fellow passengers put up with on a daily basis. I really do lead a charmed life.  

Mingun, SE Asian Capitalism, and the Wedding Crashers

Forty-five minutes by boat across and up the river from Mandalay, lies the area/town of Mingun, consisting mainly, once again, of monuments and pagodas.
We climbed to the top of this ancient relic, an earthquake years ago have been destroyed much of its grandeur.  A young Burmese boy attends to us, assuring that we navigate the chasms safely, and don't fall through the narrow separations in the structure (created by the earthquake) with more than enough room for human body to fall through.

Mingun monument

Buddahs inside of course

 He offers to take our pictures, gives the girls a helping hand, and if I should have needed him to fetch me a newspaper, I'm sure he would've sprinted back to town and done so.  Of course, all this attention to us is given with the hope of a tip, of which I oblige.

atop the monument

Returning home on the boat, it starts to rain.  Everyone but me and a Frenchman living in Laos flee from the deck to shelter.  I don't mind a little rain, living in the desert called Los Angeles I actually rather enjoy the rare moments of my life when the heavens bless me with a shower.
Robert relates to me how much of Southeast Asia has changed in the last 10 years.  He describes how in the past the people were so mellow and kind, living much more harmoniously with the land.  Today, the new mindset is to get as much as you can right away, by any means possible.
He describes the black market, clear-cutting of Laotian forests for immediate gain, with the bribing of shallow officials, robbing the country of its shade and natural cooling system, eventually turning the land into desert (I'd feel like I was back home.)  Turn the hardwood into exportable furniture, and reap a tremendous profit.
He laments how greedy the people have become. "It didn't used to be that way," he explains.

The problem with the unfettered form of capitalism is its need for growth and profit at the expense of all else.  A factory that pours its nearly invisible carcinogenic chemical waste into a river, adversely affecting the health of those living downstream, will argue that it's not the company's problem, and that enforcing environmental regulations would create massive lay-offs by raising the cost of goods sold, and affect its competitiveness with China.  They will argue how un-American it is to employ these "burdensome regulations," and that the Environmental Protection Agency was created by a Communist devil.

This photo makes the area looked much more forested than it truly is. Nice view of the pagoda

I personally am a believer in Adam Smith's invisible hand theory (business is good), but capitalism needs regulations or else it will destroy the world by its own avarice.  A few extra dollars does not mean a better quality of life.  I'm not a fan of teachers unions that stand in the way of their brethren being fired for incompetency, but to vote for Newt Gingrich and other Neo-conservatives would mean an assault on all regulations at the behest of business, and while some are certainly burdensome and unnecessary, eliminating them all would mean a lower quality of life.

The Wedding Crashers
We walk back from the docks, dodging through the heavy Mandalay traffic.  We look inside a restaurant, and see festivities taking place. A wedding?

the married couple

Gazing in we attract the attention, and are immediately invited inside.  The ceremony was recently concluded, and we are seated, cake and ice cream placed in front of us.

me and kids at wedding

The spirit is festive and joyful, and most of the guests are intrigued by our presence. The bride and groom immediately venture over to me, standing behind, as a videographer films us. I feel like I'm in the spotlight, that they want me to perform and say something memorable.
"Yo, we're straight from America, celebrating the happy couples wedding. Much blessing to y'all and everybody in Burma. Straight from the USA! Word up! Celebrate," I punctuate my speech with a semi gang sign.

I'm not sure anybody will understand a word I said. They'll probably look back one day on the video and wonder who was that crazy guy?  Is that a gang sign? More importantly, who the hell invited him to our ceremony?
When they went around to each and every guest with the camera for some video shots, I felt a little bit of an ass for making such a spectacle. But hey, isn't that part of the fun of life?

video: crashing a Burmese wedding