Last year I trekked into the Moroccan Sahara desert on a very trusty camel named Aszu. In the evening, my guide, Jusef, a sixth grade educated Berber nomad, surprisingly fluent in six languages, fixed me a tantalizing chicken tangine. All that it lacked was a glass of wine, unfortunately verboten for Muslims just days before Ramadan. At night we slept under the incredible desert night skies. Never before had I seen so many stars, stretching from one horizon to the other – the stars so bright and numerous, it was difficult to make out the constellations. That was Morocco, a kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, smells, and experiences. From Morocco I traveled on through much of Europe, Russia, Mongolia, China, and finally concluding my trip in Japan. This year's trip will take me to Romania, Ukraine, Georgia, Central Asia, India, Nepal, Southwest China, and Indochina. At times I hope to report back on my experiences and observations, perhaps posting a few pictures and videos that may be of interest. I've posted below a few pictures and videos from some past trips. For my blog on my travels through East Europe check out my blog at http://tallinntovarna.blogspot.com.

I’ve been asking myself lately, is there a theme to all this? Maybe not, but one thing I can say that piques my interest, is the dangerous nexus between religion and politics that engulfs the world today. In Morocco, where the King is both the head of Mosque and State, a Muslim, during Ramadan, can end up in jail for doing nothing more than drinking a glass of water under the scorching daytime heat – his crime, the thirsty Muslim broke the fast. Imams in Morocco claim that such an abhorrent act defies the teachings of God, infringes on the religious liberties of practicing Muslims, and is deserving of serious sanction. Of course, such a violation of an individual’s personal freedom could never happen in America. Or could it? As I write this, the U.S. Catholic Bishops are ferociously attacking President Obama’s Affordable Care Act for requiring institutions to provide birth control under their insurance policies. Like the Imams, the Bishops consider it not just an affront, but an existential threat, to their religious liberties. A poor woman, without the means to support a family, let alone a brutally raped woman, should not expect any sympathy from these Catholic institutions, as they, like their Muslim brothers, are scripturally bound to impose their beliefs on others. Does it matter that no one is telling Muslims that they cannot fast or Catholics that they cannot abstain from sex?

Now that I think of it, I’d like to dedicate this blog to Americans United, a terrific nonpartisan educational organization dedicated to preserving the principle of church-state separation as the only way to ensure religious freedom. Before I move on though, I’d like to share with you this political satire piece I wrote a few months ago when Senator Rick Santorum had a chance of being the Republican nominee. It pretty much sums up my take on what a large segment of the American population would like to see should their wildest dreams come true. Finally, I begin this blog with three postings from last year’s trip just to give you an idea of who I am and what you may or may not come to expect as I embark on this year's trip. If you have something nice to say, I'd love to hear from you.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Road to Jaipur

Camels on Road to Jaipur
From New Delhi to Jaipur is 250 kilometers, minimum of five hours. Narayan, my Brahmin driver, doesn’t speak English so I record my impressions in silence. It’s raining, sometimes in torrents. The traffic vacillates between a standstill and a crawl. The highway so flooded in places cars stall trapping the passengers inside and ahead a loaded bus is stalled. How are the people going to get out? The water must be up to their thighs. My driver seems to know the tricks of navigating to higher ground, aggressively honking his horn to eek out a passage through the drenched mopeds, pedestrians, autos, trucks, tuk tuks (motorized rickshaws), gaeys (holy cows), stray dogs, camels, and even an elephant or two. A woman in a sari, ankle deep in water, pounds on the side of the public bus in front of us, but is not admitted. We pass a progression of men carrying a rain soaked linen wrapped body on a slab. A scene I’ve witnessed several times before. Narayan slows to a near stop and signals the Hindu sign of respect. Suddenly we’re through this mass of humanity and speeding along an open freeway — billboards everywhere — most in English. Not for long though, we hit a muddy construction patch of the highway that we bump and slosh through. We encounter more odd shaped vehicles crammed with families, a bus so full that people sit on its roof. Here and there, busy open-air filthy ramshackle stores, restaurants, and workshops pop up along the side of the highway. The rain isn’t stopping the people from going about their business. We hit one of several toll plazas. The rain lets up and we start to make good progress.
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