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.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Bangkok, Thailand


King Bhumibol
“What’s with all the billboards and signs of your King and Queen?” Maybe it’s my tone of voice, my guide, Paradee, quickly snaps, “He’s our King. We love him!” End of discussion she thinks, but not when you’re dealing with a roving anthropologist and so I continue. “Here, on this intersection alone, I count a dozen pictures of them. Isn’t that a little excessive?” “It’s not excessive. We love him. He’s god.” “Did you say god?” “Yes, of course, he’s our god. Unlike our other gods, he’s someone we can actually touch and feel. Ten years ago I touched his foot.” “His foot?” “Yes, his foot!” Paradee’s not happy with my questioning. “But why his foot?” “Because that’s the position you’re in when he walks by!” through her clinched teeth I know she wants to add, “You fool.” I conjure up an image of her along with thousands of the King’s subjects kowtowing as he walks by, which causes me to ask, “Do you actually pray to him?” “Yes, of course!” What a stupid question I’m sure she means to say. “When?” “Every morning when I leave home. I ask him to protect me and my son and help us through the day.” “Is there a special place where you pray?” She shakes her head indicating my question is a stupid one, “In front of his picture.” “Picture?” “Yes, like everyone, you know everyone, in Thailand, we have a large picture of the King in our house. We actually have many pictures of the King but the big one at our front entrance is the one we pray to.” “I thought you said earlier you were Buddhist?” “I am!” She shouts back, now angry. “Is there something wrong with that? I pray to the spirits too. I told you that as well. I have both the Buddha and a spirit house in my house. That’s the way it is in Thailand. We can pray to whomever.” “To Lord Ganesh?” “I don’t, but why not? Lord Ganesh is a Hindu god and Buddhism was formed out of Hinduism.” “What about Jesus?” “I don’t, but some people may.” “Very confusing,” I say. She snaps, “It’s because you don’t listen! You have a bad attitude! AND, you insult my King with your questions!” I drop the subject and for the next three hours, as we drive to the Tiger Temple, neither of us says a word. 
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