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.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Samarkand, Uzbekistan

Samarkand
“Where are you from?” asked one of a couple dozen police officers, who had been staring at me.  Shit, I must be somewhere I’m not supposed to be. “San Francisco,” I choked. The officer motioned me to come closer. The other officers moved in around me. “How many in your party?” the officer sternly quipped. I raised a finger, “Just one.” “Where are you staying? I handed him my hotel card. “Grand Samarkand Superior,” he slowly read aloud and passed it to a couple of the officers. A discussion ensued. They concluded that they knew where the Grand Samarkand was. The officer handed the card back and said, “You want ticket?”— I had no idea what he was talking about. Another officer said, “Football game,” and pointed in the direction where another group of officers stood. “Uzbekistan and Iran, ticket free,” he said. “Why not?” I thought and took the ticket and proceeded to the other group of officers where an officer scanned me with a metal detector and another patted me down. From behind, the officer who had given me the ticket shouted, “Twenty dollars!” They don’t stop at anything, I thought, so I turned back and handed him the ticket. “No,” he laughed, “You keep, just joking.” Turns out, the stadium was a block away. Inside army and police officers were everywhere. I found a seat and an officer sat down behind me. I turned and smiled, but he didn’t smile back. Another officer sat down next to me, but he wasn’t smiling either. The Uzbeks won 3-1.

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