Death wish

Greetings,

Speaking of a driving school, educational malaise and general laconic ironic bubonic atomic plagues, here we are. In paradise.

The public's death wish is prevalent, precarious, precocious and precious. You see it, taste it, hear it, smell it and touch it. In other words you feel it. Fear cannot mask, hide, avoid, escape, deter, ignore, deny, lie, or try to fly. It is an integral essential element in the genetic strain, a strained well trained artificial injection of reality.

Paradise is the perfect place to pretend you are a crazy English teacher.

"Feed me," yell the adults and children. "Give me the fish. Push me through the system. I secrete sadness."

"Sorry, you need to learn, understand and comprehend the value of learning how to feed, educate and care for yourself and others in your community."

"Are you a lunatic? For decades, for generations we've had foreigners (NGOs) giving us money, medicine, education, food, condoms, handouts, free stuff.

"There's no way we (the majority) are going to begin accepting responsibility for our country, our people, our lives."

"Have it your way. Here's a free ticket to the new entertainment toys."

"Wow! Thanks."

Metta.

Drive

Greetings,

Welcome to the Famous Cambodian Driving School. (FCDS) Our slogan is Drive Fast, No Fear.

We are here to initiate you into the wild wonderful crazy world of driving. We do not have insurance. We don't believe in wearing seat belts because they are expensive. Do not let these minor details influence your decision to take risks. You will be issued a helmet. Wear it at all times.

Remember: you are in complete Control of a large automobile. It is capable of extraordinary maneuvers. You will have a teacher with you at all times. If they are sleeping it's ok. It's part of their job. 

Ok, let's get down to basics. Cars, especially massive 4-wheel drives, are popular with the rising middle class. A car symbolizes many things: freedom, money, prestige, and power.

As you know there are NO stop sings, traffic blights or silent flashing signals on streets, highways and byways. If you want to achieve big things, like getting where you want to go in a big fat hurry, you must take big risks, especially while operating a car. It's fun and exciting. 

Inside the chanting Buddhist monks at the pagoda you have a gas pedal, brake pedal and horn. The horn is the most important part of the car. It is your way of telling others, if they are awake, you are coming through. You will not be deterred. Your goal is to get through, get by and get going. Hit the horn. Hit the gas. 

Using the brake and singing your intentions is for dummies.

At FCDS we believe practicing on small narrow crowded city streets will introduce you to the fun and excitement of driving. You will negotiate limited space with: thousands of motorcycles, children, women balancing bamboo staves and jumbled baskets of food, orphans, amputees, rolling food carts, bicycles, garbage trucks, tractors, push carts, young teams of boys and girls collecting cardboard, cans, and bottles, fast brown rats disguised as health inspectors and endless processions of chanting monks seeking food, kindness and enlightenment. 

Their enlightenment will be their salvation. The horn is your salvation. 

Tomorrow we will practice on narrow red dusty potholed rural roads. 

Metta.

 

less is more

the last a thing a fish knows
is water

light bird song
she remembered struggling in Shanghai
with no formal education
searching for the perfect love
writing her story in Chinese
following her heart

after the rush of stimulation orchid
settled down into lassitude 
misfortune wedding children
polite monosyllabic conversations

vapor expression

amputee teacher
on his rolling chair
eats noodles

people who may not know
how to write
watch someone scratch lines 
in the breeze of voices
clattering metal pans

laughter silence

a son leads his blind father
beating a drum
by a thread

Cloe and Younn

Greetings,

I'm sitting in the market drawling in my Moleskine. Three travelers sit and sketch their environment. They use pencil, ink, watercolor pens and cool tools. They are excellent. Many Khmer people, as is all too common, just sit and stare. A few curious ones wander over to see the creativity. 

The next day I am drawing and Cloe, one of the French artists stops by for a chat. She and Younn, her boyfriend artist left France for year of total land travel. 

"We went south to the Balkans, Greece, Turkey, Iran and across Central Asia to China, Mongolia, back to China, bought bikes and rode to Laos, now Cambodia then we go to Thailand and south to Malaysia, then eventually to Australia."

How was Iran? "It was great. We hardly ever stayed in a hostel. The people invited us into their homes. The culture and art and history is amazing. Everyone was friendly and kind and helpful. They talked about everything. They were totally connected and engaged with the world. We felt really safe and secure."

We exchanged links. You can read their French blog and see Younn and Cloe's amazing art from their travels. 

chez Younnecloe

Metta.