Welcome Home & Mexico City

As a boy I would collect rocks that looked like spaceships. Small, blue pieces of granite about the size of a Halloween tootsie roll. I didn’t make rocket noises or pretend to fly them through the air, nothing that fun. To me hiding them from the world was what I did. A rock,  to me was something that would last forever and knowing that I would always have a spaceship shaped rock hidden, waiting for me would make me happy. So when ever I get down, or seem to loose focus I know there are rocks waiting for me….

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Moon over eastern Himalayas

America. Feels more like Scandinavia compared to the third world. Clean air, water and large human beings in big cars. What a rich world we live in. It is hard getting used to waking up in the same place. Each morning I find myself packing up my sleeping bag and putting away my tooth brush only to take them out again later in the day.

It is too early to know what my next move will be. A part wants to keep going, Africa, South America but another side tells me to try normal life again for a while….

My mother surprised me with a last minute trip to Mexico City!! Sunday we drive to the Mexican border, walk over the line and take a cab to the airport. We will be there a week .

Though back in America I will continue to post and as long as I pay the annual website fee this blog is my spaceship rock.  Happy holidays!!

 

The Seven Sisters: Cycling a few of India’s North Eastern States

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India’s North East is extremely different from the rest of the country.Neighboring China, Myanmar, Bhutan and Bangladesh the seven sisters states are countries among themselves. In the last two months I have cycled through 5 of the states and have witnessed pagan festivals, mobs of tribal Christians, and miles of tea estates. Though part of India, the majority of people here don’t look Indian and trace their ancestry back to the  Mongolians. This is where India becomes South East Asia!

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Another hard  and dirty day on the road. I am also wearing a white shirt. Imphal, Manipur

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Made to order Paan. The paan shop is the Indian equivalent of a cafe.

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Local Pan Shop. The NE States, especially Nagaland and Manipur have very good Paan (Areca nut wrapped inside of a betel leaf). Here is a picture of my favorite recipe called “Gua”. Areca nut, coconut, loose tobacco, raisins, cloves and lime paste wrapped into a betel leaf. It has a very refreshing taste that is both slightly stimulating and mildly psychoactive.

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The contents are wrapped together is the fresh tasting Betel leaf then chewed. 

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Some Christians in Nagaland. I am surrounded by Johns, Marks, Matts and Lukes.

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Local Manipur lady busy at her loom, making traditional a blanket.

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I am back in the jungles of south east Asia. Rats, fried cockroaches and bats are again sold on the road side and Christmas songs echo from distant churches. Its been a hard 7 days of cycling through mountains and long valleys, and am now in the city of Imphal the capital of Manipur state. Cities in the North East are awful, and filled with trash, exhaust and dust. But the mix in culture makes things interesting. Tomorrow I departure to America, and am looking forward to breathing clean air. Hope to see you all when I return!

 

 

 

Courage among the beast

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DCIM100GOPROIt is difficult garnering up the courage to cycle when the view outside looks like this. I spent a rough night in a Nagaland guest house with no air conditioning, and suffered the consequences of a headache and burning eyes when I left the window open for air in a city like this. This is by far one of the most polluted cities I have seen, Dimapur, Nagaland the commute hub of Nagaland. Here, trash piles fill the streets and in local markets I find stacks of rotting, unwanted meat products and fish gills. Everything is stained an orange red color from the dried spit of  local chewing tobacco and the atmosphere a constant haze of burning trash, exhaust and road dust. I find it hard to imagine what life must be like for those living like this every day, and feel sorry for the children that take their first breath here. Why am I so lucky that in 6 days I can board an airplane and in less than 24 hours be in paradise, while millions of people just like me live like this?