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 9, 2012

Stuffed Horse Intestines

Stuffed Horse Intestines
“No, I’m not going to eat stuffed horse intestine!” “But you got to. It’s a delicacy here in Kyrgyzstan. Everybody tries it, at least once.” Cholpon pushed the gray smelly slice of sausage into my face.  Was this gross or was I just being a wimp? I reached up to protect my mouth, but Cholpon got there first pressing the slimy slice to my lips. “Ugh! It smells rancid,” or was it just my imagination? I delicately put my fingers around the slice to stop her from pressing it further. She let go, “Come on! Take it! Take it!” I stood there with the piece to my lips. Am I really going to eat this? No way, but then (why, I’m not sure) I bit into it and just as quickly jerked it out of my mouth. “Oh my god, this is terrible – something rancid, salty, and disgusting!” Cholpon smiled and graciously took the piece from me and gulped in down. “Delicious! Absolutely delicious! — Maybe a little warm. I like it cold.” The lady behind the stand looked at us as though this scene was all too familiar. Let’s move on,” Cholpon said. Not far away were stacked bushels of white balls. “Cheese balls! They are so good. You must try one.” They looked harmless enough and I love cheese. “Okay, I’ll try one.” Cholpon bought three of them and handed me one. I bit into it. “Oh, yuck! — so salty and sour! This is terrible!” “No, it’s delicious,” she laughed, as she reached for mine and gulped it down. That was it. I wasn’t going to experiment anymore. “Just one more thing you must try.” “What’s that?” “horse milk.” “No! Are you kidding? — Absolutely not! — The thought of it makes me sick!” “You must try. Everyone loves it.” I turned and walked away. Cholpon caught up with me, a cup of milk in hand. “Here, take it! You’ll like it!” “No! No! No!” She persisted, so I dipped my little finger into the milk and put it to my lips. “Shit! That’s really sour! Bitter!” Cholpon drank from the cup, “Yes, a little sour. I like it better when it’s not as fermented.”
Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)