Monday, March 10, 2003

Cycle Your Breath, Cycle for Life

Now, I know you are all just perched on the edges of your collective seats wondering, "Wazzzupppppp!" with Craig. A lot of transition in the past three weeks. I moved on January 7th to a new apartment in a scuzzier neighborhood for only twice the rent I was previously paying. The apartment itself is nice, and I’m living with a friend from San Diego that I’ve known for almost ten years. And her cat. That will take some adjustment with ole Fugee.
So, also found a job. Please, pick yourselves up and say, "Amen!"
I am now working for Pallotta TeamWorks, the company that produces the California AIDSRide. I am responsible for 500 riders--keeping them motivated, on track with fundraising and training, and making sure they don’t drop out. I have come to realize in the past week or so how much actual power I possess as far as being able to be a motivational and inspirational example. I think it’s kind of a spooky thing when we actually start to realize our own magnificence. I don’t say this from a place of ego, but from a place of truth. We, as people, have enormous power to effect change, to help people, to change the world. Now I know some of you cynics are saying, "My! How well the Wellbutrin(Craig’s cozy little anti-depressant) works!", but this is stuff I actually started to figure out just after the vipassana course.
A few of the great things about working for the Ride are: 1) I wholeheartedly believe in the cause, both for its’ benefit to the HIV/AIDS community, and to the alchemical changes it creates in the participants’ lives; 2) I again have health, dental, and after a year, a 401K; 3) there’s the Craig-friendly escape clause of being able to take the option of having a few months off after the Ride; 4) and they’ll give me time off to do other events. Like the Alaskan AIDS Vaccine Ride, which I will do in my niece and nephew’s honour--they deserve a better world than the one we’re leaving them. And you know what? It only pays slightly less than what I was being paid at Virgin after 5 years of selfless dedication. Snifffff.
I really believe I didn’t find other employment up to this point because I am supposed to be doing this.
I just attended a rebirthing class this afternoon--amazing technique based on pranayama, or yogic breathwork. The technique employs cyclical deep breathing which, in theory, helps one to overcome blocks in the psyche and to attain spiritual connection to the divine. All I can say is, "WOW." A very different and equally powerful way of observing the breath in order to reconnect to one’s body/self/feelings. Sure am getting the most out of the Bay Area, aren’t I? Too bad I hate the Grateful Dead-- then I’d be a true Bay Area hippie dippy goon.
So, yeah, I’ve been busy. It is nice to have things looking a little more rosy.
So, logistics time-
New address is:
440 14th Street
SF, CA 94103.
I’ll email when I have a new phone contact number, and when I’m sure about what my new work contact info is. I’m off to bed now-- I did a 45-mile ride over the Golden Gate Bridge into Mill Valley in Marin and then back. Is it suggested to ride 45 miles in one fell swoop after not being on the bike since closing ceremonies of California AIDSRide 6 in ’99?
One earnest request that I hope you can help me fill. Please email me with any friends’ contact info that I might send them a note about me doing the Alaskan AIDS Ride from Fairbanks to Anchorage. I will need to raise nearly 4,000 dollars and don’t have the luxury of having an eccentric billionaire for a boss anymore…
I love you all loads (ever notice how rarely we ever tell the people who mean the most to us how much they do?). It’s my job to keep reminding myself to say "Thanks" to everyone who is and has been there and contributed to the soul sojourn/adventure/train wreck that is my fantastic life…
Thanks.
Love
Craig

01/12/2001

Too Rich. Too Rich…

On my way home from the California Vipassana Center where I spent the past 11 days meditating, I was trying to think of clever headlines for this email. So many ways:
1.) How To Drive A Gemini Crazy? Vipassana.
2.) Get To Know Your Nozetrilzzzzz.*(See asterisk below)
3.) The Truth Lies Right Under Your Nose.
4.) How To Spend 110 Hours on a 22" x 22" cushion.
5.) Just Don't Do Something, Sit There.
* Goenka fans are laughing and poking themselves in the ribs saying, "It's funny because it's true. It's funny AND true."
Anyway. after completing the course, I have to say that it was probably the most profound experience of my life. And remember this, that's including Kathy Lee Gifford's Today Show performance. Wow.
Each day began at 4:00 AM. At 4:30, we sat for two hours. From 6:30 til 8:00, we had breakfast and small break for bathing, nap, etc. From 8 til 9 AM, group sitting/lesson, from 11 AM til 1 PM dinner(yes, dinner) and question answer period session with teacher. From 1 until 2:30, meditation, from 2:30 til 3:30 group sitting/meditation; from 3:30 til 5 PM, meditation. From 5 to 6, tea break, from 6 til 7, group sitting and lesson; 7 til 8:15, dhamma (universal law) talks, and from 8:15 til 9 PM, meditation. And they tricked me! I had to be vegan, AND silent! And dinner at 11 AM? "Here's your sesame seed and a thimble of water. See you tomorrow!!" I couldn't even complain about it. Imagine my agony. Oh, you also couldn't make eye contact with any of the over 100 participants.
Imagine the agony of sitting in one spot and NOT MOVING positions for 11 hours a day. The first day, all 11 hours, was spent feeling your breath coming in and out of your nostrils. Sounds easy. Your mind will NOT let you. It's amazing how many commercials, crappy songs you don't even like, inane memories, profound ideas, occur constantly. Like about ten per second. It's really hard to listen to the constant chatter of one's mind. It really proves the point that we have lost the ability to feel sensations in our body. Through busyness, worry, memory, speculation, analgesics, alcohol, and drugs, we've numbed ourselves. To start having to listen to what your mind goes through constantly, it's pretty agonizing. To try and control it, even harder.
The week pretty much progressed like that, as people got deeper and deeper into their heads and bodies. People would burst out crying, remember abuses that were repressed, people that they had wronged, begin to understand their behavior patterns.
The thing that was so cool about it is that it is no mumbo-jumbo, it's just pure science. It's not dogmatic or sectarian. It's merely how the Buddha came to understand how the mind and universe functions. And he must have been on to something, as he was describing sub-atomic particles arising and falling 2,500 years before the electron microscope.
By day six, I was starting to have semi-transcendental experiences--weird colors, patterns, sounds. Had to learn to shut them off too. (To think of all the money one could have saved on acid, ecstasy and mushrooms...)
By day seven, I was feeling sensations all over my body. Internally. Externally. Vibrational. I could actually taste electricity moving over my tongue. Like when you're a kid and you touch your tongue to a six volt battery to see if it still has juice? Or when you're older and touch your right eyeball & left nipple to your car battery to see if it does? Okay, maybe I was the only one to ever do that.
And why do they ask you to do this? To show you that nothing is permanent. Nothing pleasant or unpleasant. If one starts just observing sensations on the body and not reacting to them, they will learn to train their minds to react like this in life.
So Buddha was no god, just a very early Stephen Hawkings or Einstein. I think that so many enlightened people have come out of the East because they have understood how the function of mind and matter and the function of natural law and the universe are in conjunction. When travelling in India, I learned that it was common knowledge or belief that Jesus spent nearly 15 years in Kashmir and India & Persia studying Buddhist philosophy. And it shows in His teachings.
What did I learn from the course? That I am responsible for my own misery and conversely, happiness. And I also know for a fact that my unhappiness was caused by turning down or actually turning off my feelings when my parents got sick. If I had allowed myself to feel the depths of my hurt, I thought I would have gone crazy. I never lost compassion for others, I just lost the ability to feel for myself.
I experienced real peace for the first time in my whole life. And I felt like the Grinch at the end of the course, whose "heart had grown three sizes too big that day."
So, really, really profound.
I know this is a little deep, but a couple of people got the impression that my Christmas email was sorta a downer. No no no! I am so glad for my self-discovery, at the risk of friends, family, strangers thinking I'm nuts. And I heard from about twelve people that I'd traveled with saying that they too had had significant depression readjusting to Western society. So much of what we value is bunk. And you learn this in the East. It was and is vital. Career never was. Just a means to pay rent, as I would never define myself by my work.
So fret not, I am happy, energized, at peace and so grateful that I was able to do the course that has deeply changed my life. I especially thank David, my pal, for taking care of my very high maintenance pooch yet once again, so that I might be able to realize what I have longed to know for so long. And in turn given me a longer fuller life. I don't say this lightly. Thank you.
So have a great holiday season. May the next year be one of peace and harmony for you.
Smooch.
Craig
Check out www.dhamma.org if you want to see where I went. I highly recommend this difficult, agonizing, and fantastical experience. Christian, Jew, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu, - anybody at all can benefit. It's free and it's in a city near you...

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12/29/2000

I Wish You A Hairy Chest Wig…

Does anything say ‘Merry Christmas’ more than a sad tree, some garbage, and a human-pulled rickshaw?
So, yeah, I think this may actually be the final installment in the emails-through-enlightenment with Craig. I can’t believe that I’ve been back six months. If I was thinking the travel was difficult and a form of unusual, self-imposed character building, it was NOTHING compared to what I’ve been going through since I’ve been back.
I guess a little post-travel malaise was expected, but I went into a pretty strong psychic tailspin. You see, all those things that were moderately important before I left, i.e. career, car, $$$--they really didn’t mean all that much to me now. I kind of lost sense of who Craig was, and who he is supposed to be.
I bet some of you noticed that I’ve been pretty scarce since July. I think much of it was due to the fact that I went into a pretty serious depression--the kind where it’s hard to get yourself to function even on the most basic levels. It’s nothing I’m ashamed of, it’s just how this particular hand decided to be played out. Picked up a book by the phenomenal author, Caroline Myss, named ‘Anatomy of the Spirit". In it, she discusses just the change in self that I’m going through. In the Middle Ages, Saint John of the Cross wrote about going through the ‘dark hour of the soul.’ Funny that this was a term that I used in my emails. It is a time when an individual goes through real profound questioning of why they are here, and what their purpose is. It is also denoted by a sense of deep depression. The kind of depression that isn’t cured by a new job, a new relationship, new circumstances. It’s a profound striving for understanding life, a higher power, a higher purpose. I know I’m starting to make some of you itch by now….
Obviously, that’s why I went to Asia. I wanted to understand Hinduism (never will...) and Buddhism (sorta do). You see, I always wanted to experience that higher power, that sense of ecstatic union I had seen other finding through religion, psychedelics, etc. I looked in all those places and found there was nothing there for me. As I am personally starting to see religion--I don’t think I’ll find the meaning I’m looking for there. They (religions) are ALL saying the same things in different ways. Different paths to the top of the mountain. But I also have the tendency to see how mankind has screwed up that pure message, each religion in it’s own way. So I think that I will have to make my own sense of spirituality.
Life sure has been stripping away the non-essentials. I’ve never been this close to being out of money, and now have found out that I have to move in January because my roommate wants to boot me and my other roommate out, so that he can move his friend from New York in here. Good catalyst for change, I guess.
Change is the only constant. But I do feel that the difficulties I’ve been through have readied me to start turning my emails and other writings into a book. Yep, there’s a book coming outta me--it’s crowning, and the corners hurt…
On Saturday, I leave for a 10-day silent vipassana retreat--and will be out of that on the 20th. Vipassana is the type of meditation that the Buddha used--it was kept alive in Burma, and was brought to the West in the past 20 years or so. Good opportunity to sweep some cobwebs out of my brain and to slow down the incessant Gemini mind.
So friends, have happy, healthy, loving, funny holidays. Be grateful for the good, and even for the junk, because that "junk" is a gift--making us who we need to be.
Mele Kalikimaka and Happy Chaka Khan.
Craig
PS Again, I may have shared too much. Hope I didn’t creep too many of you out…I’m still the cynical sarcastic you’ve always known and loved(?) And, surprisingly- very very positive...

12/15/2000

Hello I say goodbye

I know-
It just don't quit... After much heartfelt reflection and weighings of this -n-that, I have decided that I will be relocating to San Francisco as of the second week of July. An opportunity to sublet for six months in a great house across from a dog park was too great to pass up. That and the fact that I will not need to immediately purchase a car, nor put down several thousand dollars in deposit.
One sadness that this brings up is that I won't be able to bring my gray furball-of-love, Happy Cat. In looking at the situation, to bring a 10 year-old cat into a environment where he cannot go outside and has to live with two big dogs-it's not fair to him.
Graciously, Daniele & Erica (the woman who sublet my room whilst I was in Asia) have agreed to adopt him. He'll be going to where he is loved, to people he loves, so this lessens one of my pre-move traumas. In making the decision about Happy, I was not choosing one pet over the other; I needed to make the choice that would be least stressful for both. Fugee couldn't stand to be re-homed again. I did feel like I was playing my own personal 'Sophie's Choice' scene…
I will miss my friends in Los Angeles and my proximity to San Diego family. I feel six months is a good amount of time to see if it is a city I will want to stay in more permanently.
My new address will be:
845 14TH
SF, CA 94114
Sorry if I've been a bit hard to reach of late, but I have been on the move constantly since I returned.
I'll email more when I have phone info & such. I should be (mostly) in LA until around the 14th.
peace
Craig

6/25/2000

Zapppppppp. Shock culture/culture shock.

Okay okay-
I know you probably were expecting to have heard the last of me...
Well, just wanted to relate this final tale of readjustment. I am in NYC and will be here for another day-THE PRICES! Internet which cost 30 cents for an hour in Delhi, a dollar an hour in Nepal, 1.63 for three hours in London- It's 20 dollars an hour in New York. I do love NYC, though.
Being back westside is odd, though. Everything, even our dumps, seem remarkably clean. No cows. Unfortunately, though, just about the same number of beggars.
Funny how India and Nepal can heighten one's compassion and harden one at the same time. My first thought at a Rasta man asking for money in London was, "You've got your fingers & toes-get back to me when you've got a stump."
But then I realized that probably wasn't such a kind and compassionate sentiment. But I do wonder if most western panhandlers realize how much more potential they have for righting their lives than their counterparts in the east.
London & Amsterdam were fantastic. My friend Rob was the perfect host and had a FULL, I say, full agenda of culture & events planned. We saw Kirtsy Macoll, Laurie Anderson, Nanci Griffith with the London Symphony Orchestra, and Richard II starring Ralph Fiennes. Dangerous seeing good drama, however. It reminded me of the passion I hold for seeing good theatre. Not content with "just" these entertainments, I saw Les Miserables for the 9th time in London. One of the finest casts I've ever seen-and it still makes me cry. How could one not with lines like "To love another person is to see the face of God."?
So how could New York compare? On a whim, I went to see if I could get a single ticket to see a friend of mine in Kiss Me Kate-she's been nominated for the Tony®. I was fourth row center-great show. Felt really decadent West End one night, Broadway the next.
I head to Connecticut tomorrow and see family and friends that I haven't seen in years. Then back to LA on the 9th.
So it's finally ending-or is it? It is the confounded Gemini's duty to confound, so, who knows, maybe we'll next communicate from...
Peru?
Peace to the peeps
Craig

5/28/2000

flight time 1:51-somewhere over Russia

(Editor's note...wrote this on the plane-though no longer feeling quite so confused or dour, I feel it is a valid representation of what I was/am going through in my culture shock return...)
What a non-stop parade of emotions. So strong, in fact, that I am writing this into the back of Hesse's 'Siddhartha'-my first non-extemporaneous writing. Actually, this, too, is written as a single draft(a habit which would infuriate my friends at college who went through two, three or four drafts writing projects while I'd sit and type. Once.)
I feel as if someone has taken a belt sander to my nerves. Maybe this was necessary to remove the coating of jade that living in Los Angeles produces-like a counterproductive pearl coating.
Flying over the Irrawaddy Delta in Burma, I just started to cry-at the beauty of our world, at enormous empathy for people, at the gift of friends, at the incredible notion that none of our lives are the same. Each path is exactly where you are supposed to be. Celebrate each hardship as one's greatest gift.
Easy to say, but in practice, how can one be glad for illness? Death? Separation? Because, when properly viewed, they allow us to become who we need to be.
HIV has been a tough teacher and one of my greatest gifts. I am no longer who I was. I am fully alive, fully present, fully on course to realizing my greatest good. I no longer tread to dangerous notion of temporary immortality that most people without a health "situation" live in.
Loss of parents-even more difficult to see the gift, but it's there. Losing my parents was the hardest event I've been through-and, oddly, one of the most beautiful experiences. The Dalai Lama says, "Some people who are sweet and attractive, strong & healthy, die young. They are masters in disguise teaching us about impermanence."
I think this whole discourse has been prompted by just seeing Nora Ephron's 'Hanging Up' just now on the plane. Outstanding movie which captures the pathos & humor of dealing with parental loss. It was so true-even in the renewed and strengthened familial ties. My own experience of this has given me my fantastic love for my San Diego family-always there, but not fully realized.
So, where do I go from here? I do not know. To Los Angeles? A city where I've spent some of the darkest hours of my soul? San Diego? Near family I cherish? San Francisco? To some of my dearest friends?
Or do I continue to walk alone-on my path? I know this won't make sense to many of you, but, in reality, one's path only need make sense within the context of their own life.
So I have a lot to figure out. Again, thankful for the conflict, thankful for the doubt-as it means I am fully alive-something I have not felt in a long, long time, if ever.
A crossroads, a gift. To quote 'Siddhartha',
"You are clever, O Samana, " said the illustrious one. "You know how to speak cleverly, my friend. Be on guard against too much cleverness."
So I am on guard. Against my cleverness, against cynicism.
Thanks again, for letting me play the movie in my head for you, for being able to show (quoting 'Falsettos')
"The chink in the armor
the shit in the karma
the blues."
Still thankful.
Craig

4/28/2000

A Footnote.

Hello from Bangkok-
Yes, I made it. With a sizeable bribe(in the neighborhood of-oh, well, exactly a hundred bucks...) to a senior airline official at a certain Thai Airlines (oops-I hope I'm not sued when the movie comes out...), I left on my scheduled flight to Bangkok. I recognized the sneers of the employees as I presented my ticket-I felt dirty and excited. The looks I recognized were the ones I used to give to industry interlopers who got great seats/passes/meet & greets for people they didn't care about, while fans went wanting. Oh fate! My rather dour look at India in my preceding message was brewed in 36 hours of hellish travel from Nepal in the (vain) attempt to arrive in Delhi before the end of business last Saturday. Two bus breakdowns, a canceled train, five buses over 30 hours-a great, great trip. Did I mention that the temperature was over 110 degrees and the humidity was about, oh, a hundred per cent? This is no traveler bravado tale-it really was that hot. It was like trying to walk through clear Jell-O while getting repeated punches to the head. Now THAT'S hot.
Anyway, I didn't go to Bardia-you know me and recrossing bridges I've already crossed. I ended up going to Chitwan National Park in the Terai. I went with a friend I met on my trip to Tibet-Mia from Hoboken. We swam with an elephant, went on a jungle walk, an elephant ride, and a jeep safari. Everything but the jeep was great. Seems that the jeep driver and guide feel the best way to see animals is to shout at the top of your lungs while driving 60 kmph. I think I'll try this method at the San Diego Zoo when I get back. On foot though, got REALLY close to rhinos. My other experience was a yawn compared to this. How close you ask? When I snapped the picture of the rhino, he lowered his head and started to charge. Now that's fun!
From Chitwan, I took a bus to the border near where the Buddha was born. Then a three hour bus to Gorakhpur, near where the Buddha died. (Is there a theme to this trip or what?) In a second attempt at trying to contract malaria, I allowed myself to be bitten by about a hundred mosquitoes on the bus to Delhi. Here's a test for you, Larium.
So I have to admit to a little sadness at leaving India-a mission completed, an adventure ended. So don't take all the stinkin' cesspool talk so seriously. It IS a stinking cesspool, but it is also a bit of heaven, and I would go back again in a second.
Well, got to go-it's really freaking me out to see all the honkies in Bangkok.
Sawasdee!
Craig

4/27/2000

Thank You, India

So it's come to this...I've quoted Alanis Morrissette.I am in my (hopefully) last moments in India, as I am booked for a flight to Thailand to connect to a flight to London. That would be fine in dandy in a perfect world. Not so, India. Seems they may not honour my flight due to misinformation I received from their office in Bombay. This jeopardizes my trip to London and to home. It's the perfect and fitting end to my trip in India, a land devoid of common sense, a land where priests try to rip you off- enough of this, though.
I am glad for every experience I have had here-I am stronger than I knew I was, have developed an enormous appreciation for patience, and have had, mostly, a great time.
What am I grateful for? The paradoxes of life, so visibly displayed in India. The beautiful/the grotesque. The honest/the deceitful. The scent of jasmine/the smell of shit and human cremation. It really is a unique place-it's the Stone Age meets the cell phone age.
What will I miss?
Adventure. The anemic whistles of the rickshaw drivers moments before they ram into your Achilles Tendon. Banana Lassis. The beautiful Tibetan people. The Himalayas. The beautiful beaches of Kovalam. Meeting my peers from all over the world. Cows-everywhere. Elephants & monkeys. Lessons in impermanence & non-attachment-bye bye camera, watch, sunglasses...
What will I not miss?
Haggling. For everything-including the rickshaw going to the hospital with a 105 fever, malaria, & pneumonia. The squalor. The begging and the pollution.
What do I most want right now?
To go home. To see my dog & cat. My family. My niece & nephew who will be almost a year bigger. My friends who should be the same size.
So yeah-what a trip. Thanks for being there with me. I'll send a follow up from London-let you know how the culture shock is going.
Peace-
Craig
PS-all this is providing I can leave this stinking cesspool. See? Paradox.

4/25/2000

Tashi delek or Seven Days in Tibet

Actually it was eight...who can afford Seven Years anymore? I arrived back in Kathmandu two days ago and have been going through decompression ever since. What a phenomenal experience. My trip consisted of a four day drive to Lhasa, two-and-a-half days in Lhasa, and a flight on Southwest China back to Kathmandu.
Pretty rough travel, the Friendship(?) Highway from Nepal to Lhasa is one of the best roads in Tibet, but it rates up (or down) there with overland travel in Cambodia. Landslides, craters, hairpin curves with 1,000 meter drops-makes the 5 FWY in LA seem like a gentle jaunt through the country. Actually, imagine a 23 passenger bus riding down a stream bed with occasional cascades-that's a pretty good indication of road travel in Tibet. I kinda wish I had my mountain bike-would have been great, aside from the 6 or 7 passes in excess of 17,000 feet.
I really fell in love with the warmth and humour of the Tibetan people, the grandeur of the mountains, the vastness of the Tibetan plateau, the squat toilets with no water, and the rancid yak butter/salted tea. Actually, I lied about the toilets & the tea. Funny, tea in Tibet is actually more like cheese boullion-mmmmmmmmmm.
So from the border, we arrived in Nyalam, a small truck stop town. From there to Xigatse, and the Tashilumpho Monestary, seat of the Panchen lamas. The main chapel contained a 23 meter tall Maitreya Buddha(I think it was Maitreya... our guide, Dawa, was a little less than informative or interested in showing us around. "Over der- Buddha, Yeah fift' Buddha. yeah.")
From Xigatse we went to Gyantse, home to an amazing monastery called the Kumbum. Along the way, we saw the north face of Mount Everest-cute little hill...then past the Turquoise Lake-fantastic. Rode a yak on Karol La pass. You know, ordinary stuff.
To arrive in Lhasa after such extreme desolation-what a shock. Lhasa is for all intents and purposes, a modern Chinese city-it's clean, organized, and the modern parts, ugly post-modern everything-on-a-grid school of architecture. But the Potala, the Barkhor, Sera and Drepung, the Jokhang, Norbulinka, the Tibetan quarter-absolutely amazing. A little unsettling seeing all the Chinese soldiers watching people praying and circumambulating, and all the surveillance cameras in the Potala and Norbulingka. And there is no mention at all of the 14th Dalai Lama-enemy number one of the Chinese state. China is, I feel, trying to allow Tibet to be a little more Tibetan than they have allowed in the past, though. I think they realize if they have a "safe" Disney version of Tibet, it will keep bringing the considerable and frequent tourist dollars into China/Tibet. But in Lhasa, Tibetans are the minority, and Tibetan the second language. Seems China is moving all its "extra" Han Chinese into Tibet with tax incentives and the lure of being able to have more than one child.
So what were the people on the tour like, you might ask? Let's suffice to say that I won't being doing a group tour again. Ever. My roommate, a very nice English- in-Australia gentleman, was a doppelganger for Aunt Clara in 'Bewitched'. He blamed the altitude, but I think a few fuses might have burned out a decade or so ago. Also, had a overbearing hypochondriac waiter/speed freak/ex-hippy with a bad face lift, two Dutch couples, a Russian couple, a hilarious French woman in her fifties, a French prig who spoke unintelligible English and sneered at everyone, a fantastic German woman doctor, a great Aussie from Melbourne, and an ex-stockbroker from Hoboken. Could have been a play. Some complaints I heard? "There is no microwave in the hotel!" "I'm cold." "I'm Hot." "The road is too bumpy." "Free Tibet!"(said as a joke at a Chinese checkpoint.) "Everybody should be free" ,<---duhhhh. I'd never seen such cultural insensitivity, such bad "humour", actually, such stupidity, from grownups. They were in a third world nation controlled by a Communist country against the natives wishes-what were they thinking? Holiday in Paris? Mints on the pillows? Maybe I've been roughing it too long. They really worked my last good, though mostly frazzled, nerve. Yeah, I think everyone should be free to make choices and decisions regarding all aspect of their lives, and, yes, that is not the case in Tibet at the present. But ill-timed jokes and simplistic attitudes are not exactly the best venue for disagreeing with China in Tibet. Do that at home-write your congressman, boycott Chinese goods, whatever. But by going to Tibet, you have to play by the rules China has set down. If you don't agree, don't go. Period.
And Lhasa, I think, could use a good English school, as the only words I heard in Tibet were, "Lookie, lookie. I sorry. I love you." Actually, I guess one could get by pretty well on just these words.
Tomorrow, I leave for Bardia again on my way to Delhi. Send good tiger vibes.
So friends, until the next, peace from the top of the world.
Love
Craig
PS- I had a Nepali explain what Nepal, India and Tibet were acronyms for.
Nepal-Never Ending Peace And Love
Tibet-Tibet Is Beautiful Even Today
and my favorite...
India-I'll Never Do It Again.

4/22/2000

Win Valuable Prizes!

I think a tumbleweed just blew through my Hotmail inbox...
Can you tell I haven't had access to the net lately?
so, win valuable prizes if you can identify the original author of the passage I 'jacked...
"Into Tibet & off I go
I mustn't stop, I mustn't slow
Into Tibet & off I go
I must be on my journey..."
I think Synthia, Laura, Shane & Michelle will get it.
Any other takers?
I'll be out of Tibet on the sixth. I wait with baited breath to see the results.
Bow.
Craig
PS- Daniele, could you make a dental appointment for a cleaning for me for June 11th or thereabouts? I need to go before my insurance conks out. Dr David Pickrell in WeHo. Isn't this fun?
Synthia & Melissa-how are you doing? (similar conditions...)
Cirillis- I'll land in NYC on the 1st. Probably be in NY for two days, then up to CT/MA for a couple of days.
Happy Cat- I'm sorry. I had to pat that cat today. I know you know.
Rob- Look forward to seeing you soon. My flight leaves Bangkok on the 15th at 11:30 AM. I'll email with arrival info.
Laurie-How are you?
Dana- You are how?
Lorna. How. You.
Kristen- kristenkristenkristenkristenkristenkristen.
Mike & Nona- How was Tahiti?????!!!!! Wedding?
David Pyle, Michael Browne- still alive???
Maurino- thanks for the evite....
Christos- yes. exactly.
Phyllis- get famous & hire me.
Pat-Thelma & Louise-ing it yet?
Patti-I just curl up & dye thinking of you.
Ann-how was your Easter egg hunt?
Hermes- How was your Easter? Get my postcards?
Tewksburys- Howwwwwwwwwwwwwwwdy!
Lisa-singing bowls everywhere I look. You'd really dig Kathmandu.
Juliana- any China tips?
Ali-sorry about your knee-what's janna?
Viola-want some indigenous fiddle music or nose flute sonatas(or would that be snot-as?)
Steve-break your fingers? Answer me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111
Eric- how the readjustment?
Nancy-Hi!
Geeta-You have to come to Nepal. Astounding.
Robert-Great embroidery here for tour shirts...cheap cheap cheap...
Rose-thanks for the great notes. They mean a lot.
John-what's up?
Glen-thanks for the email. Great hearing from you.
Dave- Still at Virgin? Still a Virgin?
Simone 1-can't wait to brainstorm...
Simone 2-I have met so many Austrians here... anybody still at home?
Isa-What's up with the merger?
Tracy-Macchu Pichu anyone?
Vinci-swattttttt. sassy.
Sarah- In London on the 16th!!!Can't wait to see you. And have you meet my pal Rob.
Becca- Wazzup? Taking classes? Loving Oz? Can I come visit??? Marry me.

4/12/2000

Hello Mister. Tiger Balm?

And about Bardia.
Absolutely phenomenal. I arrived in Ambassa, Nepal after 36 hours of bus rides from Dharamshala to Dehra Dhun to Banbasa to Ambassa. My favorite part was sharing, and I use the term in the most generous sense, my seat built for 1 person with a 350-pound sweaty, fat man. Who sat on my lap. Until I said, "If you are going to sit on my lap, you have to by me dinner first." From the deer-in-the-headlights expression I got, I now know that sarcasm does not translate from English to Hindi. He did feel comfortable enough to drop into a near-death state, and sleep on my shoulder for 10 hours.
So I get to Banbasa, the least used land crossing to India. Might have something to do with Maoist rebels blowing things up.
From there, I arrived at Ambassa to Thakurdwara, headquarters for Royal Bardia National Park.
The park is 1,000 sq. kms of spectacular, unvisited jungle & forest. And the great thing about Bardia is, that only in Nepal, are they crazy enough to let people walk in the park. They wouldn't let you do that even in India, where anyone's safety is of little to no concern.
It's really fun! Imagine just walking into the Tiger River enclosure at the San Diego Zoo. We were surrounded by wet tiger & leopard pugmarks, bones, rhino poops like bowling balls, elephant footprints bigger than my head & ego combined.
Imagine!
It was equal parts "Born Free" and "Blair Witch Project". I asked by guide if he'd ever had any animals be aggressive-almost killed twice. Seems the wild elephants are extremely aggressive. One has killed about 20 villagers over the years.
But I felt safe. My guide had a dowel.
"Bad kitty." [Thump thump. Thump.]
Yes I saw a tiger at 20 meters. And he or she saw us. And, embracing the belief that you should run toward your fears, we sprinted through the forest after a 2,000+ pound rhino, and we miscalculated a little, ending up about 30 feet away from him. Not so good, when you know their favorite thing to do is to run at you at 40 miles an hour and trample you, then give you a good smell. We'd been trained as to how to avoid danger, though- if he charged, we would run in a zigzag pattern and throw off a piece of clothing because he'd stop and sniff it. This is exactly the same escape tactic one must use when avoiding the Hollywood agent at an industry event.
So the park was great. I think I may go to Chitwan National Park in a day or two. You know, I find a lot more presence of God in the forest or walking along the spine of the dragon (The Annapurnas) than I do in any church, temple, wat or gompa. It's like the purest example of love & God, without man's nasty habit of screwing every thing up and misinterpreting.
So pals, run towards the rhinos. We can learn from them.
Love
Craig

4/10/2000

Mo' Better Blues

Hey all-
Happy Easter-I think... It is Easter, isn't it? I am in Kathmandu after
about a week in the extreme western Terai of Nepal at Bardia National Park.
I ended up leaving Dharamshala nine days ago, but right before I left, I had
a meeting with a very high Lama/oracle who consulted to Tibetan system of
divination called mo. Like a scene from some psychedelic production of Guys
& Dolls, the lama rolled the dice as he recited mantras and went into a
trance. I got some really interesting answers to some questions. Tibetans
seem to have remembered things we've forgotten, like telepathy and other
things magical. And empathy and altruism. When staying at the Himalayan
Rescue Dog Association in Begnas Tal while doing the Annapurna Circuit,
Inggo, the founder, said that whenever a person goes missing, they can
consult the lamas, and 9 times out of 10 they can pinpoint on the map where
the person will be found. Interesting. Well, mo says I should travel, that
it will feed the mind and spirit, and that that, more than western
pharmaceuticals designed to make stockholders rich, is what will keep me
healthy & happy. Way to go Mo.
Please note the little aside about stockholders is mine, not Mos's...
And another thing. In being treated by Doctor Yeshi Dhonden, his love and
compassion is palpable-a far cry from the apathetic, resignedly bored
treatment I get at home from Aetna Select. And he does it 6 days a week.
For free. I'd be curious to see how many doctors we'd actually have in the
west if there wasn't the monetary or family expectation incentive...
So, to quote Sir Andrew Lloyd Weber,
"Hand me the wine & the dice
I want my carnival now
while I have thirst and lust for living.."
Roll on.
Love & chocolate fufu bunnys.
Craig

4/02/2000

The Hills Are Alive With The Sound of Dharma

Howdeeeeee.
Still in Dharamshala-really nice place quite a bit like Northhampton, MA. I had my first real burrito with pico de gallo in almost half a year. Actually, over half a year. (Who'd think one could survive that long without pico de gallo?)
I'm taking four classes on Buddhist philosophy, and also am taking a Tibetan cooking class. My momos were so ugly, I don't think even a mom could have loved them. They tasted great, though.
Ever notice how sometimes life just drops the exact things you need right in your lap? I was emailing the other day and suddenly thought, "I should go to the Green shop." I had no real reason to want to go there-they sell filtered water and environmentally friendly products. So I sign off and go over. As soon as I walk through the door, a Tibetan woman says' "Please come to this." The talk that was being given was entitled "HIV Is Not a Dangerous Disease According to Buddhist Philosophy and Tibetan Medicine." Just the info I was taking this trip for to find out. And another event was I was pondering life and it's meaning in Bodhgaya back in December-when a person sat in front of me with a profound statement on their T-shirt. I will close with the text.
It is really odd to think I have been in India almost half a year. In theory so much time, but in India, like the passing of a pretty long week. Still so many questions unanswered, like when exactly did Shiva go from being the terrifying creator/destroyer of the universe, to being an ungodly, blue hybrid of Michael Jackson and Bernadette Peters, all beestung lips, and bedroom eyes? Every bus/temple/street corner carries these odd depictions of ole Shiva. And, how exactly is it that the profound and the profane can exist side by side? And isn't it interesting that many of you probably feel like you know me better by my absence that by my being there? Probably won't find the answers to all these things here.
Anyhow-two days ago I had my audience and shook the Dalai Lama's hand and received a blessing-it was a really great experience. Meeting His Holiness in Dharamshala is like being kissed on the cheek by Angelyne at Pinks on Melrose. It's the ultimate site-specific experience.
From here, I may go to Nepal, as I have to kill about a week-and-a-half before my flight, and I refuse to do that in Delhi. In closing, I leave you with the T-shirt that I found so profound.
"A Precious Human Life
Every day, think as you wake up, today I am fortunate to have woken up, I am alive, I have a precious human life, I am not going to waste it. I am going to use all my energies to develop myself, to expend my heart out to others, to achieve enlightenment for the benefit of all beings, I am going to have kind thoughts toward others, I am not going to get angry or think badly about others, I am going to benefit others as much as I can.
-H. H. The XIVth Dalai Lama"
Now THAT'S a T-shirt I can believe in...
Love
Craig
ps- Please every one send their love and good thoughts to my great friends and roommates, Mike(snclfe@hotmail.com) and Nona(nliegeois@lafla.org), as they prepare to be married this Sunday. I wish I could be there-I am sending my love. Happy Cat can also be sent tuna and love at this same address...
pps- Nina- I'm here with Glen & Noah... small, small world



3/22/2000

I've Sprained My Ankle On a Leap of Faith

Hey all-
Still in Dharamshala. I'm taking some Buddhist dharma courses, have been seen by Dr Dhonden, one of the world's foremost experts on Tibetan medicine, and Friday, I am in a public audience to meet the Dalai Lama. All well and good.
Those interested in Craig's philosophical personal growth may read on-all else, chat atcha next time.
Craig
Below is a letter I wrote to a teacher of Buddhist philosophy that is charging $50 US for a 20 hour workshop-a "donation". He wouldn't refund my $$$
Here's is the letter he is getting now-if my body goes missing-know where to look- Dr. Goldenberg...

"Sir-
Thank you for sending your assistant up today with the offer of a partial refund of my small, substantial donation.
I must admit, I was a bit tentative to start the course after watching the unfortunate situation that developed between you and the potential student who questioned the donation. I personally didn't question the donation until after I paid. As I was walking up the hill, I remembered the people at the Maitreya Project in Bodhgaya telling me that His Holiness the Dalai Lama never charges for teachings. I realize you need to cover expenses, such as dental work and rent, but donations that are non-refundable, non-negotiable, tread dangerously close to being forced donations, or semantics aside, fees.
I have absolutely no problem whatsoever with fees.
In His Holiness' instructions for finding a guru, He states that one should rate or assess a potential guru's actions. He also states that one must separate the teacher from the teachings. I am too new to the path to do that. Confusion as to a teacher's actions can obscure even the purest message.
I am most definitely sincere in my attempt to learn of and apply the dharma. My coming to India-HIV positive, without health insurance, without a job to go back to-I have put my life on the line for this. I know it is necessary, and I am willing to apply myself.
It would have been most easy for me to just not show up, or to lie as to why I was discontinuing the course. I wanted to be honest. I thought it could be a learning experience for us both.
To hear from your assistant that my issue is completely my culpability due to my obstructions, well, yeah, I may have obstructions, as anyone new would. But, one must admit, in the teacher/student contract, both parties share equally in whether a message is conveyed and understood, or whether it is not.
Please understand that I intend no disrespect by this. I just found that, for me, I needed a different approach-one a bit less negative.
It is commendable to laud one's belief system, but to term other schools as 'unrefined' or 'not really effective', that sounds, to me, a bit judgmental. I know many people who have been profoundly changed by vipassana. It has worked for many women in prison (Sundance- and Academy Award®- nominee 'Doing Time, Doing Vipassana'), it has saved friends of mine. And it worked for the Buddha.
Y/our diatribe against relationships also struck me as a bit too cynical-too much the teacher, too little the teaching.
I can tell by what we witnessed before class started, that this type of questioning of your method will anger you, or if not anger, at least confound. That is most definitely not my intention. I hope that this might be a learning experience for us both.
Please keep the remainder of my donation that you might know that I am earnest in my pursuit, that I have integrity, that I am honest-not to hurt, but to explain.
I hope that you may see the message, not the messenger.
Thank you.
Craig Hermes"

3/20/2000

Sikh and Ye Shall Lose

Sometimes I think my (relatively) good-nature is stretched so far, so many times, that all the cocoa butter in the world couldn't save me from stretch marks. In my past life, was I Hitler? Stalin? Fatty Arbuckle?
You see, I must be working through some pretty serious Karma, with all the death, loss, and illness I've had to deal with. But Craig always bounces back, like a shiny happy superball.
So what prompts this, you might ask?
(Oh, go on...ask.)
Well, after another crappy day in Delhi, a place I've truly grown to detest, I boarded a train for Amritsar in Punjab, sight of the Golden Temple, the Holiest of Holy places for the Sikh religion. You know the Sikhs as the guys with the big turbans and long beards usually glowering at you in a 7-11. (This is not a racist comment-please proceed to the Silverlake 7-11 and tell me this is not so...)
Well, in my zest for security, I locked my backpack to the train, just like you're supposed to. And guess what? As I was locking my backpack, a Houdini stole my day pack. Hats off to him/her for stealth and professionalism. Yeah, it's a drag, yeah, it makes me trust Indians even a little less-but mostly makes me feel stupid for being a victim. They got my camera, my Lonely Planet, my Let's Go, my pullover fleece, a few irreplaceable souvenirs, and some medications. That's all well & dandy, but I had a roll of non-replaceable photos I'd taken in Sariska National Reserve-beautiful pictures of jackals, sambar deer, peacocks, tiger pugmarks...
Oh, well, maybe the theft bought some hungry kids some food for a month or so...In the west, it would likely have fed a drug habit…
My travel insurance may cover some of the theft, but I doubt they will believe the Mickey Mouse police report I got in Amritsar.
The Golden Temple was worth the trip, though. Sikhs are fascinating people-very proud and valorous. The Sikh Museum had lots of paintings of them being boiled to death, sawn in half, cutting off their own heads, and lots of morgue photos with the corpses in states of horrible disfigurement, dressed up and flower laden.
So now I am in Mcleod Ganj above Dharamshala where the Dalai Lama lives. It is a beautiful alpine setting-if not for the Tibetans, you'd think perhaps you were in Switzerland. And it's delightfully cool-like spring should be. The giant Rhododendrons are over 50 feet tall and flame red.
Tomorrow I try to have an appointment with Dr Dhonden, a Tibetan doctor who used to be the Dalai Lama's physician. Then I think I head to Corbett Tiger Reserve- I just need a little more nature and a few fewer Indians(no offense intended.)
Well all- remember things come and go, but the beat goes on, the beat goes on…
Love
Craig
PS-Would you believe I had 50 precious souvenirs in my day pack, something for each of you? Gone, all gone!!!! I wouldn't believe that one either...


3/17/2000

What!?! Octopussy for dinner again???

Hey pals-
I just came from the most astounding dinner I think I've ever had. After spending about a dollar a meal for the past 3 months, I splurged tonight and ate at the Lake Palace in Udaipur, Rajasthan. Spent twenty bucks. Three days total expenses. What a really lovely place. It often gets stigmatized as "Oh yeah. That's where 'Octopussy' was filmed." It truly is one of the most romantic and beautiful hotels I've ever seen. The food, you ask? Comparable to a very good day at a Hyatt buffet. But after almost half a year of rice with feces, it was like ambrosia, Valhalla, the nectar of the gods...
I have to admit, though, it was another of those romantic/by yourself places. Which, of course, got me to scratching my still-bald head and thinking about why it is I have this self-imposed 'hundred years of solitude' mentality.(Tip of the hat to Mr. Garcia Marquez).
In Eastern thought, it would be explained as working through karma in one's quest at removing the veil of maya/illusion and recognizing one's god-self. Am I scaring my atheistic friends yet? But you know? India changes you. I am most definitely not the person I was when I left-which, is indeed, a good thing. Yessiree, bub.
But it does add to the anxiety level of returning to an old lifestyle which won't quite fit, something like trying to fit into a bad thrift store tuxedo.
That and the fact that my medications run out in July. Oh well. Who says you need to travel to have death-defying adventures? Just let the US health care system do it for you!
From Udaipur, I head back to Pushkar, a spot I didn't particularly like the first time I was there. It's another Israeli/stoner hangout. And there is nothing wrong with that. It just ain't for me.
There I meet up with Simon again, and go on to Delhi and up to Dharamshala to see my pal Dalai...
I'll try to send a picture of me tomorrow-they have a scanner here.
Love ya loads
Craig
PS- A fun game I found in Jaislamer... After you flush the toilet, run to your patio and look below at the three drainpipes and wonder which one of them your present will come out. Just like miniature golf!
PPS- menu items I saw yesterday, mixed fruit craps, banana filter
PPSS- I was in a minor bus accident, but with brilliant foresight, the ticket was printed with, "In the event of incident of delay, accident or other circumstance, management will be held irresponsible." The most honest Indian guarantee I've seen yet.

3/15/2000

Dig Your Own Hole

It's like this...
Did you ever have one of those times when the more you try and explain yourself, the deeper you dig your own hole? Seems I'm in Ditch County. In my quest to prove my sanity, I have somehow worried a number of you. I think that my wry, dry, cynical, wrinkled sense of humour at times reads as being really sad or bitter. I assure you, except for my momentary vegetarian tirade, I am downright jovial each and every time I send an email to y'all. No kidding.
I know that this travelogue missive has included a lot of the inner workings of Craig-India forces one to really evaluate life-everything is magnified here. I like to think that India is intoxicating perfume and the stench of death in the same breath. I promise to stick more to the travelogue and to lessen the sessions on the couch. I just kinda feel that not including feelings of a trip is tantamount to describing a trip to Disneyland with "It's got a big parking lot." Yeah, it does. But a whole lot more, too.
Back to Travel Times.
I just got back from my 2 & 1/2 day tentacle crush, uh, I mean, camel safari in the Thar desert outside Jaisalmer, Rajasthan. Camels are great to ride, if , somehow, you could magically levitate into the standing camel's saddle. Sans levitation, it involves resting your entire body weight on two very fragile little friends. But enough of that.
The desert was beautiful. Each night we slept under the stars in complete silence(except for the incessant belching and farting of the camels). As to the camels, they seem to be a very significant source of natural gas. And they make sounds EXACTLY like Chewbacca when they are doing something they don't want to do.
But I learned a very important lesson in life. The path you want isn't always the one you'll go on. But it's the correct path, nonetheless.
I also learned that if you want someone/thing to pay attention to you, you must hit them/it very hard with a stick and say "huuuyytt."
Or at least it worked with Kalu, my camel. I can't wait to come home & try it with each of you!
But I was really struck by the path, or The Path. As the sun was setting over the Sam sand dunes, I watched as two scarabs paths intersected and went on their separate ways. It struck home with a lot of my trip, which seems to be a sort of microcosm of the macrocosm-a little bit of life. My path has crossed several times in mysterious ways, like:
1. running in to a friend from New Zealand in a book store in Puttaparti- same aisle, same day, same town.
2. running into Simon on a deserted beach in Goa.
3. meeting a friend of a friend in a restaurant in Jaisalmer who had been following my travel notes via forwarded emails from a friend. Same day, same restaurant, same time, same city.
I heard life described like this once(paraphrasing): "Life is like an oriental carpet. At first it seems like a random chaos of color and shape. But in turning over the carpet, there is a very discernable pattern."
And it's really fun when you begin to see it. I think God must have an AMAZING sense of humour.
Okay, back to travel, off the couch...
Jasisalmer is gorgeous. If you were dropped here, you might think you were in Spain or on the set of Arabian Nights. It is really romantic-I went for a long stroll holding my own hand(the cow got nervous when I held her leg).
Today I leave for Jaipur for the elephant festival. Which coincides with Holi, a countrywide water/paint ball fight signifying the end of winter. Should be fun.
So, friends, I leave you until the next...
Love
Craig
PS a Romper Room moment for all those kiddies, like me, who the Romper witch never saw through her magic eyeglass...
"I see Phyllis, and Lorna, and Isa, and Simone, and Simona, and Christos, and Maurino, and Tore, and Pinky, and Pickles, and Viola, Juliana, Geeta, Rose, Daniele, Nona, and Allie, and Exene, and Jade, and Misty etc etc etc..."
And "Hi" to everyone else, too.

3/10/2000

little rann, little rann so far away...

So-
I am in Kutchch{who knew?) the most desolate and remote section of India- sandwiched between the Arabian Sea & Pakistan with a couple of deserts thrown in for good measure. And wild asses. Don't forget the wild asses. There are almost 2,000 of them now.
After a good day in Sasan Gir (saw two lions) I headed off to Junagadh, Palitana, Dwarka and am now in Bhuj, Kutchch, Gujarat, India, Planet Earth. I never intended to go to Gujarat and I have seen almost every highlight here. Interesting place. The Little Rann of Kutchch is a salt flat that the only wild asses live on. It makes Palm Springs look like Kauai or Ireland.
Today I head off to Jaisalmer for a 4 day camel safari-you know, the usual stuff...
On a quick note, I get the feeling that some of you are ready to contribute to the Buy-a-Yard-of-Fabric-For-Craig's-Padded-Cell Fund after my last email. After being in Kutchch, I realize that the fabric should be brightly embroidered and have mosaics of mirror(oops-perhaps nothing with sharp edges...) Not to worry. I'm not having a metaphysical breakdown, just going through an intense session of Time To Be Big-being a child at near 40 is kinda sad, so I'm fixing that now.
Well, I have to go, as there are four people glaring at me as this is the only computer working in Bhuj and I think they think my time is done.
Thanks so much for your kind words after the last email. I accept them. That's new, huh?
Love
Craig

3/07/2000

Feeling wibbly wabbly in Bombay Mumbai

Hi pals.
Just a quick warning. This is not my usual witty, sarcastic brilliant highly modest self. It's just SO exhausting being "on"-I now know why Lenny Bruce, Gilda Radner, Andy Kaufman, and Richard Nixon succumbed so early. This is a more pensive, serious, more 2000 Craig. This said, I continue:

I know it's been a while. I just have returned from a one week stay at an ashram in Ahmednagar, Maharashtra. Me spending a week somewhere is like the normal person spending a month. In my normal frenetic Gemini/post-HIV immediacy, I tend to have short, intense experiences. So I slowed down.
The ashram is the spiritual center of Avatar Meher Baba, a man believed by many to be an avatar for this age. What's an avatar, you ask? It translates roughly, to my understanding, as a God-realized man, most closely referred to as a Christ figure in Judeo-Christian terms, or as Buddha in Buddhism.
I know that will send up a red flag for a lot of you peeps in cyber land.
In my never-ending stream of uncanny circumstances, I went to Meher Baba's ashram upon the advice of a Vedic astrologer I had do a reading right before my trip. My friend Michelle told me about him. I called and had a reading two days before I left for Nepal. He said I should go to India, it would be enormously significant spiritually, and that I should stop by Meherbad to visit the samadhi(tomb) of Meher Baba.
I showed up at Meherbad and was told, "Your friend is coming Friday." I thought... "Who?" They meant Jade, the astrologer who did my reading. So I thought, "Hmmmm. Wonder why our paths are crossing?"
I met Jade and his wife Misty the follow week. Great people-warm, funny, and highly sincere. As were the majority of people at the ashram.
And why were they different, you ask?
They had a sense of humor and joie de vivre that the other karma crabs at Sai Baba's & Amma's didn't. So I spent a really peaceful week meeting some really nice, happy, spiritual people(obviously-out of my element.)So all in all, it was a very nice turn on my previous jaded cynical ashram slumming.
Right now I'm in Mumbai and am still mulling over my experience. I did a lot of self-reflection during my week. I think the main reason I have never had a true close relationship with a god-figure is that I have never allowed myself to be loved. I could be surrounded by 100 close friends and family shrieking "WE LOVE CRAIG", and I just wouldn't "get" it. The greatest truth to the myth of Hermes is that his strength is his greatest weakness. And, ya know, if ya don't "get" love, you just ain't gonna "get" God.
So I'll try to be a little easier on myself-easier said than done.
Oops- I've worn my heart on my sleeve-perhaps I should have worn long sleeves.
Can I say that Meher Baba is the Avatar? No. Can I say that he isn't/wasn't? I can't say that either. Pete Townshend thought he was(dedicated the rock opera Tommy to him...) I do know that he was a genius who walked the walk of compassionate service. And I will learn more.
Tomorrow, I leave for Sasan Gir Lion Sanctuary in Gujarat, the last bastion of the Asiatic lion. Roar. Then on to Rajasthan and out of India by April 24.
So, love the one you're with. And that includes yourself.
Reverend Craig, Church of the Confused Hermes
PS- Do feel free to stand around me shrieking "WE LOVE CRAIG" when I get back. And the throwing of large denomination bills would be the perfect accompaniment...

3/05/2000

Ashram=Osho=Ashhole

Warning! This email contains violent words-cusses, even!, adult situations, and heaps of frustrated feelings... Don't try this at home...

Well. I think I left you right before I arrived in Gokarna, an idyllic beach community in the North of Karnataka, the state between Kerala and Goa(where Bombay is...)
This beach approaches what the book "The Beach" was trying to capture. The community is a very small Indian village with three very isolated beaches-either a 45, 60, or ninety minute walk. You can still sleep on the beaches, and a crowded day consists of perhaps 20 westerners on a beach that's about a kilometer long. Beautiful! Boring!
You see, if I hadn't just spent 3 weeks in Kovalam, I would have been in seventh heaven. But unless you like to smoke pot till you're blue in the face and dumb as a stump, there ain't much to do. See, the smokin' niche isn't for me, either. I don't need any drug that makes me feel even more self-aware and awkward. So, after two days on Gokarna, with a French woman who looked like a cross between Brigitte Bardot & Sophie Marceau(UGLY!), I opted to try out Goa, as full moon was fast approaching, and the Full Moon in Anjuna is legendary.
As to why, I don't know.
I termed Anjuna more appropriately Angina-as it gave me a real pain in the heart. We(westerners) have ruined one of India's loveliest stretches of coastline. Angina beach is as if every continent vomited up it's hippies, dreadlocks, eyebrow rings, speed freaks, and heroin addicts-and placed them there. And it's not just young kids-it's like the gathering of the generations-Woodstock, X, & Pepsi. People sunbathe nude (highly offensive to Indians), and generally behave like pre-adolescents.
If you're trying to imagine what it's like, think Fort Lauderdale during spring break minus the class & decorum, and with twice as much ecstasy, vomiting, and rude behavior-like some drunken Spaniard thinking it was funny to repeatedly blow out a Hindu woman's holy oil lamp...
On my walk to the beach I was offered Chinese opium, Manali cream(hashish), ecstasy, speed, psychedelic mushrooms, grass, cocaine and heroin. Kind of like being at an industry party in Hollywood.
My favorite part was being stopped three times on my way back to my guest house by three different Goan policemen(they have been known to plant coke on people for baksheesh/tips/bribes). One even stole 100 rupees out of my pocket(about $2.50)-I was getting pretty annoyed by this point, and, being innocent, got sassy. Told him in not so many words to Goan fuck himself. (I warned about language...)
So I stayed in Anjuna 18 hours. Left two days before full moon. I did, however, continue up the coast to Arambol. This is the Goa I imagined. Gorgeous, sparsely populated, but still things to do. White sand, coconut palms, fresh water lake. One of the stranger things that happened(and happens all the time in India) is I was walking on a very deserted beach and saw a guy walking toward me. It was my friend Simon from Austria, whom I traveled with in Nepal. Too weird. We are now in Pune, and leave for Ajanta and Ellora caves tomorrow.
Just a quick aside on the Osho Ashram-I was just physically removed from the hallowed meditation retreat(by the Vigilantes-embroidered on their uniforms, no less...)
You see, they(Osho-ites) are a throwback to the 70's, like a cancerous tumour growing on the neck of the Me Generation. Free sex is enlightening. I knew they wouldn't let me in, so took the mandatory HIV test anyway, just to see their reaction.
"Sorry. Can't enter."
"Why?"
"You have AIDS."
"People with AIDS can't meditate with you and attain enlightenment?"
"Osho said 2/3 of the people in the world will die of AIDS. We can't have that contamination here."
{I'm about to be racially offensive-but I did not mean it and the guy I was speaking to was black.}
"Well, if Osho said, 'The Blacks are too stupid to understand enlightenment-they can't come here', would you still call him 'Bagavan'(god)?"
At this moment, the Vigilantes walked me(aerobically even)to the door.
On a related note, a Hindu man who follows Vishnu had been arguing with them too, he came up to me and said, "Blessings, brother. God, who ever you choose to follow, would never exclude from his kingdom."
Right on, Hinduism.
So, I leave you now, the Norma Rae of Pune. HIV positive, vital, and a hell of a lot more godly than any of the lost souls who've come to Pune for a free-for-all fuckfest.
Again, I apologize to any and all for the language, but my feathers are just now unruffling...
Until the next-Love God, which ever form you choose-for He will love you, too-JUST AS YOU ARE.
Peace
Craig
PS- Anyone have Rob Hooper's email address?

3/01/2000

Sai Baba, You're So Fine, You're So Fine You Blow My Mind! Sai Baba! Sai Baba!

Hello all, from Hempi, uh, I mean, Hampi.
Can you tell that there are a lot of hippies here by my Freudian slip? I arrived here after my flight from the Valley of Peace, as Sai Baba's ashram at Puttaparti is called(though I did find it rather odd that there were 6 armed guards with machine guns in the aforementioned V.O.P.). Quite an experience, Sai's place. About 20,000 devotees from around the globe live at Puttaparti-it looks like a university/wedding cake covered in hot pink & blue acrylic nail polish.
I, quite happily, found that Sai, too, is not for me. I attended darshan and he stood just two feet in front of me! Wow! All five foot one of him (or six foot three including hair...)! He, being perhaps the world's most unphotogenic being, looks like a very tanned, very short, Gabe Kaplan after a horrible fright. Did I feel his Divine Grace cleansing me? Did I see his dark brown eyes turn to blue(his most common miracle after pulling diamonds from the air)?
No.
His image is slapped on to nightlights, picture frames, rings, boxes, etc. Somehow, I just don't think the Buddha or Jesus would have really approved of their tour merchandise being hawked as such.
I bet they wouldn't have even had any, huh?
See, my problem with Sai is that he says he is God. In his philosophy, all are one, all is god. I can see that. I kind of like to think of us as all part of God's creative imagination. But Sai says that he gives us pain to teach us, disease to make us grow closer to him. I might be paraphrasing a bit (or purely inventing-I'm allowed-my email...) but this is a direct quote, "My walking among you is a gift, yearned for by the gods of highest heaven, and you are receiving this grace, so be grateful."
I thought I was the only one who felt like that!!!!
As for the devotees-very international bunch (people wear scarves of their country-like Up With People crossed with Ned Flanders family from the Simpson's.), Bolivia, Russia, Paraguay, Sweden, USA, Tonga-but basically the same westerners that were at Amma's. You know, people who've changed their western names to their true spiritual names, like Karmachameleon and Toopoopedtoparty.
And if one more person greeted or yelled at me with "Sai Ram!", I was going to snap. The repeated chorus of Sai Ram is used to say, "Hey, stupid! Outta my way!", or "Hello.", or "You're stepping on my foot." I wouldn't return the greeting, as I don't believe Sai is Ram (God). Maybe that's why I "just didn't fit in " with their little spiritual party.
Maybe I'm too cynical. Maybe I tend to see gullibility where I should see devout faith. Maybe, maybe, maybe... I just didn't see God. Yes, a lot of amazing work is being done to help thousands of people(schools, hospitals, housing), but being philanthropic doesn't make one god. Godlike maybe. God, no.
Anyway, Hampi is really pretty- 400 year old ruins in a surreal boulder strewn landscape. From here, I head to Gokarna(a beach) before Goa to Mumbai, where I can arrange my flight home. Seems my flexible flight is flexible if you don't want any changes.
Anyhoo-be well, be happy.
Peace
Craig
PS- a few menu favorites I left off: Worm Apple Pie (probably true), skinned milk, Fried Steam, Fruit Salad with Crud. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

2/20/2000

Guru-ve Is In The Heart...How Do You Say Deee-lite?

Om shanti shanti shantihi...
Well, that was different. After leaving Kovalam, I went to Kollam to start my backwaters trip up the coast. The backwaters are a series of interconnected canals, lagoons, lakes & rivers that line India's west coast. After a short 2 hour jaunt, I arrived at the ashram of Sri Mata Amrithanandamaya (Heretofore as "Amma"-too much chance for misspelling...), the "Saint of the Backwaters". Over 1,000 people live on the ashram of "Mother"-about 500 of them westerners. In all fairness, the ashram does some amazing work-they've built a free state of the art hospital, 25,000 homes for the poor, provide widows pensions, build schools, etc. But, honestly, there's something a little creepy, Stepford Wife-y about the whole environment. Not from the Indians, mind you, but from the westerners.
Ashram Westerners fall into two categories-the post-Woodstock, airy fairy tribe, and the second, more frightening white clad, Pious Westerner. The beatific smiles, the knowing glances, the serious-as-cancer demeanor-these people make Mother Theresa seem like a tramp. I tramp, I tell you... Can we tawwwk?
Now, don't get me wrong. Amma is a nice big brown lady who gives good hug. She does darshan daily, which means that everybody who shows up gets a hug from Amma. This is highly unusual in Hinduism. Normally darshan is glimpsing a saint or god- she actually embraces.
So as I lined up for my hug with the Divine Mother(as she is also called) I have to admit I was a little nervous. I was told to expect something magical, an energy, a sense of compassionate understanding. As I was wiped down with a tissue as not to soil holy Mamma, I was thrown on my knees by an overworked, overimportant, overzealous disciple. My turn.
She grabbed me and held my head and whispered, "Donut king. Donut King. Donut King." (I think that's what she was saying- it was in Malayalam, the only palindromic language.)
Did I transcend? Did I feel anything? Well, she smelled like jasmine, and I think I could hear some Keeblers Niblets swimming upstream through her ascending colon. Was she God? For me, no.
Ashram culture proved to be just another niche that I don't fit into. Who knew there were so many niches in the world?
Ashrams seem like a great place if you want to escape from the world, and be loved. But can't any religion provide that love without the required renunciation of society/people/country/mankind?
Amma is a mother to her disciples, but you know, she was in tough competition with my Mom, who I'm sure could have had an ashram.
In fact, if I told people I was a turnip and could cure warts, I could probably find 1,000 Indians out of a billion to believe me-which in turn would bring the damaged wealthy westerners.
To be fair I should have stayed for Sunday night's 9 PM Devi darshan where Amma wears a colorful sari(!!) and becomes the holy mother(!!!)
I was however committed, as at 9 on Sunday, I become Charles Dickens, writer of novels.
So that's ashram life in Kerala. I am going to Sai Baba's ashram in about 5 days-he's the biggest, the best, the afro-iest guru in he world. I'll report later.
So, friends, if you're feeling compelled to travel to Amma's for divine love, it's kinda a long way to go for a hug.
Love
Craig
PS-The big guy was watching out for me, though. I changed 200 dollars and had the money in my locked pack. My pack was razored while on my back in a crowded bus. All they saw was my journal and left the wad of cash. Now that's a miracle.
I must report that I am growing a little suspicious of some of my Indian friends, after the razoring, and the theft of two watches in as many days. Oh, well. Travel tax, I guess.

2/18/2000

Have a Kerala & a Smile!

Hello peeps-
As my two weeks of panchakarma draws to a close, I have made these observations about life/Kovalam/India...
1)Kovalam is like Epcot Disney India. Safe! Clean! French Fries!
Don't get me wrong-it's beautiful here. Kerala is India's cleanest state, has approximately 100 % literacy, and has been lauded by the UN for progressive women's rights. But it is definitely safe. Not the rollercoaster on acid that'd I'd been experiencing up till now. It's India Light. 1/3 Less Filling!
2)There is really never a need for the Speedo bathing suit/marble sack. It only is appropriate on Mark Spitz or Greg Louganis-& then, only when they're "working"...
3) Israel must be completely devoid of anyone between the ages of 23-30 years of age. They're all here.
4)Indian men are a curious sort, holding hands, snuggling, wearing nail polish, splashing in the waves like girls. Is there a heat/testosterone deficiency correlation?
5) Panchkarma sounds better than it is. After 14 days of massage, I just want hands off. Trying to force 15 years of death, sadness, frustration & illness through my pores is no easy process. I think we all saw a little of the cranky-no-dessert-for-Craig Craig in the veggie tirade. Toxins, I'm sure.
6) India is full of fat, pink middle aged Europeans on holiday, Israeli youth liberated from their army service, and an international group of "kids" doing the Goa/Ko Phangnan/Bali circuit, while honing their useful skills like juggling, twirling balls on a string and tabla playing. Kind of like a flunky version of Cirque Du Solieil with ecstasy & hash. Maybe I'm just grumpy 'cause I don't twirl the balls on a string so well...
7) Oddly enough, I feel as at home in India as I do at, well, home. And I've felt as lonely & foreign in a party in Silverlake with my friends, as I have in a room of Hindi speaking people.
So, friends, just a few notes on wazzup with me in my slice of the world.
I leave for my first ashram on Friday. I'm sure the guru experience will be a new one...
Peace
Craig

2/15/2000

all right enough already of the lovey dovey crap...

Now this the Craig you may recognize...
I realize of late my emails have taken an insightful, almost, dare I say it, metaphysical bent. As of this moment, let me assure you, my 'all is well with the world' sentiment has waned considerably.
I am undergoing a 14 day Ayurveda treatment called panchakarma, or five fold path. This is an ancient system of cleansing the body and restoring immunity. Among the techniques they employ are induced vomiting, enemas or laxatives, blood letting, steam baths with medicinal herbs, and a therapy where warm oil is drizzled in a continuous stream over your third eye (center of your forehead for those not so ''enlightened"). In my case, only laxatives, steam baths and warm oil are mandated. LAXATIVES-Running For a Cure.
That part is all well & fine, in fact, the treatment also includes an hour and a half of medicated oil massage a day. That's pretty great.
What's my irk, the tick in my turban, you ask? Included in my treatment are ayurvedic-friendly vegetarian meals. I've tried really hard to like vegetarian foods. Many of my best friends are vegetarians. Yes, veggies can be flavorful. But, to me, it's always been a case of "here, eat this bowl of sticks". Then claim you LOVE them!
You know, it just ain't for me. I need protein, in the form of animal, bird or fish, to feel well.
I've never been so cranky.
I constantly feel hypoglycemic/dizzy, starved, and skinny. And in three days, my all-you-can-eat veggie diet has left me 4 lbs. lighter. I can't afford that weight loss right about now. Ya see, when I left in November, I was 190 lbs. I know, lard butt, Puff Daddy Hermes. This morning , I was a svelte 157. Fret not, the love handles are still in tact, though slightly diminished.
I need a burger.
A chicken. A whole marlin. Even, Hinduism forbid, a holy cow.
Tomorrow I resume my meat eating path to hell.
Sorry, veg friends of mine, but this is something where we will just differ. As you salivate over those cadaverous looking tofu pups, licking your lips in anticipation, know that the extra tofu dog is safe in your keeping.
I'll be at the Steak &Shake in Mumbai...
Unapologetically carnivorously yours,
Craig
PS Wondering how I can afford this luxurious spa type treatment? It amounts to less than half the cost of one of my three bottles of medications per month...
makes ya think about western health care costs, huh?

PPS-Have I lost some pals in cyberspace? Let me know if you're still out there: Viola, Michael, Don, Lisa, Christos, Patti, Rob, Geeta, Isa, Salas, Simone S, Tracy, Susan, David & Fugee.

2/10/2000

a little footnote, if you will

Hi all.
It's true, I must be a sensitive new age guy. Believe me, I find this as horrifying as you. With a lifetime of callous and cynicism wrapping my heart, I have to admit I actually cried (a little) at a sunset today.
Let me preface this with a conversation I had with a woman from New Zealand. We were talking about our histories, as travelers do, and her jaw kind of dropped and she look really astounded when I was relating my "bio". She said something along the lines of, "I really feel for you... you've had an awful life. You have abysmal luck..." Whereas her words were meant in a sympathetic manner, I was taken aback at the statement.
As I mentioned before, yeah, life has kicked me in the ankles quite a few times-but who hasn't been?
I feel so lucky! As I sat watching a scarlet sun drop into the Arabian
Sea, I saw three whales breach and flip their flukes just about 200 yards off shore. I was sure that this must be a regular event in India-but the guy I was talking with said he'd never seen whales in 15 years of living in Kovalam.
The joy I felt at seeing the whales, being at the beach, having a beer, and watching a cinematic quality sunset(strange how life in LA makes you say things like, "It was as good as the movies!")was really profound. I feel lucky to be alive, to have such an amazing family, such great friends, to have such crazy experiences, to have a great pooch & cat, to have (relatively) good health-I wouldn't trade any of my life. I guess I just needed to go away for a bit to see how good it is. Distance makes things clearer.
So, yeah, thanks for being part of my story. I wouldn't change a thing.
Peace
Craig
PS-I know I have been indiscriminately group emailing and I apologize. Please, please, please let me know if you'd rather not get them-I take no offense what so ever. I hate "junk mail" too. I'll just remove ya from the group.

1/26/2000

hurtling through space & time, I have stared death in it's ugly maw...

In reference to my previous observation about travel in India, let me just say, without appearing vainglorious, that you are lucky that there is still a Craig to be typing this. Why, you may ask? Let's just say that Magic Mountain holds no thrill for me now. After hurtling through the dark at 95 miles per hour sitting in a straight back chair situated behind a plate glass window-that is the essence of Indian night bus travel.
Standard modus operandi for driver-
*pass on every blind curve
*drive motorcycles off the road
*hit and kill at least one dog
*be an intriguing blend of mild retardation, amphetamines and rage
*spend most of your time with your head out the window, drooling the narcotizing betel juice on the side of the bus
*blow the horn once for each heart beat
*feel free to doze at the wheel, but if you should get too sleepy, do something terrifying so that the adrenaline gives you a nice, heady lift.
Needless to say, I won't be taking another night bus. I'd rather walk. The entire trip was like that instant where you fall asleep and have a full body muscular contraction, like you are falling inward. I woke up several times with headlights directly in my eyes, not to the right where they should have been. Sleep didn't actually happen on this particular journey. It was a good lesson in handling fear, though. When there isn't much you can do in a certain situation, just sit back and watch-it's better than ulcerating for 9 hours.
So friends, night dive with the sharks, bungee jump from a bridge, just don't do anything rash like night buses in India.
Craig

1/25/2000

few quick observations

Just to take advantage of a great internet connection...
India. A few observations.
Menus.
In the last two weeks, I have read of all these items being available, but haven't tried them. Real menu items: Fried Children; Fingers With Sauce; Diet Cock; Choclate Pudding with Fire; Sweat & Sour Porns.
Dance Festivals.
Went to the Mamallapuram Dance festival. Very famous. The dance consisted of three hours of systematic twitching(like itching powder in the bathing suit) as one tries to cross a burning hot parking lot in bare feet, to the vocal accompaniment of what sounds like someone with a horrific sinus infection, who has just stubbed their little toe. I'm sure this sentence suffers grammatically-but ya get the picture.
Vehicular travel.
No one in India seems to be in control of any vehicle they are operating, be it a bullock cart, bicycle, moped, car, public bus, or 4-ton truck. I've never seen more people driving down the street looking sideways.
Just a few things I noticed.
Craig
PS-
Yes, Alice, I do recommend anti-malarials-my case was minor because I was taking Larium. And I did/do sleep under a net & use deet and cover up after dark. Some lucky mosquito just had my name on it.

Pinky-
sorry about the cast being stinky, Pinky. Mend.

1/21/2000

eenie meenie minie moe, catch a …

Hey all-
...was it tiger by the toe? No, I didn't catch a tiger by the toe, but on New Year's Eve I did see a wild tiger from the back of an elephant. What did I catch, you may ask? Just pneumonia and malaria. In my personal quest to develop every disease known to man, I decided to ring in the millennium with two, count 'em, two exotic debilitations(sp?). Needless to say, I was in bed by 6:30 with a 104.3 temperature, which lasted three days. My once enormous, Michael J Fox sized biceps, alas, have been reduced to those of Sade*. (*For generational reference, please substitute Twiggy or Audrey Hepburn for Sade.)
This information is coming in retrospect, so that the worry factor can be decreased (Mrs Cirilli & Aunt Skippy...) It's was pretty rough being that sick in rural India. I still had to take an overcrowded 9-hour bus, go to restaurants for meals, sit in a Jabalpur hospital for 10 hours. Maybe the loneliest place in the world. Hospital in India more equates with hospice, as nobody has money for treatment. The malaria I had was minor, because I had been taking anti-malarials. I did, however, need to have three shots over the course of three days. Each day, the entire hospital floor (visitors, ambulatory patients, nurses, janitors) would come in and watch me get my shots ("Hi I'm Craig. And this is my ass...")
I went to Smellhi for three days, but decided to take a day trip to Agra to escape the pollution. Delhi is the second most polluted city in the world, and Lonely Planet says "not the place to be if you're asthmatic". Great place to recover from pneumonia! I decided to bake myself well in the south, so I then took a 36-hour train to madras. I'm currently in Mamallapuram, 70 kms south of Madras.(Ginny, you must have gone here...) It's a really quaint town on the Bay of Bengal with a 1,000 year old shore temple. From here, I head to Pondicherry, Madurai and then meet up with friends in Kovalam, on the Arabian Sea.
I have been gorging myself on seafood. I was so protein starved in Northern India, that I'm making up for lost time with shark, calamari, tuna, and mackerel.
On a quick side note, after my 4 month cross country architectural tour of he United States with my expert friend Ginny, I can assess the Taj Mahal thus- it's a good white building with four sticks at the corners.
Well, dear ones, have a great few days/weeks/months years. I'll check in from Pondy. Remember, when life kicks you in the ankles, keep walking-it makes you stronger and your sense of humour keener.
Love
Craig
PS- I really appreciate all your emails, but cannot, due to frustratingly slow connections, answer them all. Please keep them coming. It just took me an hour & a half to send this. Knowing hotmail, you will receive it three or four times... HOTMAIL DRIVES ME CRAZY!!!!!!

1/20/2000

Oh! Calcutta! aka Train in Vain

I arrived this morning after experiencing my first Indian train experience. My friend Donna and I rode 2nd class three tier sleeper from Siliguri to Calcutta- a sort 14 hour jaunt on India's finest, well, second finest, train. Eleven million people take trains every day in India. Only perhaps eight million of them were on ours. It's kind of like having a slumber party with 100 people you don't know and who love to stare at you all the time. All the time.
I was getting a little tired of the hassle, so I decided to make my self a little less approachable. I shaved my head Q-Ball bald. Imagine a really tall fetus and that's kind of how I look. Not too bad though. Nice round head due to being a Caesarian section. Too much info perhaps???
Tomorrow I'm doing a city tour, then head off to Hinduism's most holy city, Varanasi, to see some life along the Ganges. How better to spend Christmas? Actually, I'll be in Bodhgaya from Dec 18 through Jan 2 attending the 10-day teaching by the Dalai Lama. He's teaching under the very same tree that Buddha was enlightened under. The millennium will be spent during a mass puja or blessing. Sounded a little better than going to Goa with the ecstasy & acid techno crowd.
In closing, I am glad you are all in my life. Email me quickly so I can get your Christmas wishes before I leave Calcutta. All money donations may be directly forwarded to the Wells Fargo Bank. That would be a joke.
Peace on Earth.
Love Craig
PS's for a bunch of people...
Christos, how's the CD selling?
Melissa- Did you send a few copies to my brother's address? I'll pay ya baby!
Scott & Jane- please get something from me for the kids(I'll pay you out of the Jeep money...) and tell them Santa dropped it off on his way back from India
Did you all get my postcards? I sent them to.. all of you, yeah, all of you...
Anybody with changing email addresses keep me informed so I don't lose ya...
Fa la la la la

12/14/1999

Hello! Dalai! or Front Row At The Psychedelic Puppet Show...
Hey Pals-o-mine...
Greetings from Jabalpur. A place I never intended to go. I like it. I'm on my way to Kanha National Game Refuge in search of Shira Khan...India's best spot for viewing a tiger. I will be there through the millennium, then on to Southern India. I think. I find it is best to keep one's plans flexible here as a planned itinerary proves to be nothing but frustrating. Like a 4-hour train trip taking 21+ hours. From Calcutta, I arrived in Varanasi-quite a place. People absolving their sins in fetid waters rich with bloated goat carcasses and sewage. Corpses everywhere. Pyres on the ghats. Took a dawn boat ride and saw Varanasi come to life. Even saw the Gangetic dolphins around our boats. I don't quite get much of Hinduism, though. Like being front row at the psychedelic puppet show. Having a "special" lassi didn't help. The guy translated special as mixed fruit. "Special" actually means about four grams of hashish. Not terribly fond of a hash lassi, I must say. (We can edit this part for the grandparents, Scott...)
As for Bodhgaya...
Bodhgaya is in Bihar, India's poorest state. The town itself is sort of nice-very dirty, in fact the Dalai Lama said in his opening comments, "People don't come to Bodhgaya because it's pretty. They don't come because it's clean. The only thing you can be sure of getting here is a cold..." Or leprosy. Never seen lepers before. Or so many polio victims. Pretty sad.
The Dalai Lama's teachings were great. Pretty deep, but I loved the whole atmosphere. Tibetans are phenomenal people. Mahabodhi temple is really pretty, as well. On Christmas Eve, I went to a puja where we gathered around a sculpture covered in candles that was a double for a Christmas tree. Very nice. Sang Christmas carols, as well. Buddhism really makes sense. It's simply a way of how to deal with other people.
One sort of magical event was that I was granted a private audience with the Dalai Lama's personal physician. Don't ask how; it was one of those weird Craig things that happened. I met him at 7:00 AM in his hotel room-he spoke to me in Tibetan for about 5 minutes, then said "and don't eat anything sour..." He read my pulses and gave me ten pills a day to take as well as two sacred pills (pills in individual plastic boxes, sewn in silk, containing among other things turquoise, coral, gold, silver, herbs...) They didn't think I was HIV positive from my pulses and said "Keep happy and you will flourish..." (Another part to edit for the grandparents, Scott...)
Tomorrow, I leave for Kipling's Jungle Book setting. I'm travelling with two Kiwi guys and an Aussie girl and a woman from San Francisco (who roadied for Tribe 8 & Stone Fox... small world!)
From there, who knows.
In closing, I love you all. Safety in the new millennium, and loads of laughter & love!
Peace
Craig

12/29/99

Kathmandu. Toilets. Apple streudel.

Hello friends!
Without belittling a profound experience, I must say the Annapurna Circuit was astounding. I met great people, walked 300km (approx. 180 miles or so...), crossed the highest pass open to non-mountaineers (17,600 feet), carried a 60 pound pack and would do it again in a heartbeat. The Nepali porters said I would never make it over the pass with my pack. Pshaw I said. I did lighten my pack a little (some Nepali is now wearing 4 pair of Calvin Klein underwear), got a case of bronchitis, and am now happy, healthy, and a slender 20 pounds lighter. Don't fret-fit as a fiddle am I.
The extremes of the trek were crazy-humid HOT jungle with monkeys, frigid Tibetan plateau with yaks, blue sheep, snow leopards, and enough dal bhat to choke a horse (lentil rice-ubiquitous meal.)
I found a few great travel companions for India-a couple from Vancouver (who saw Pendra's rollerskating nudie show, Daniele), and an American woman living in Germany. We leave for Darjeeling in a few days.
So what have I learned?
How to recognize & treat giardia(not me-travel mates)
How to cut off the head of a ram in one swoop
How to drop off the trail in a humorous manner
and how to get cheaper rates by telling people I'm Israeli
(my iSRAELI FRIENDS MADE ME A MEMber OF THE TRIBE AND TOLD ME i WOULD GET THINGS MUCH CHEAPER IF i SAID i WAS iSRAELI...IT WORKS...)
sorry about the caps.... can't be bothered to fix.
So have a very jolly holiday season, and remember to do something really difficult just to prove you can. It really makes you appreciate life more.
Thanks to the friends with warm Thanksgiving wishes (SD family, no, I hardly noticed you didn't email...).
As they say, Namaste. (I honour the god within you.)
Love
Craig
PS
My email list is far from comprehensive-please feel free to forward to anybody I have not included. Laurie-please forward to Becca & Mark. Thanks!
PPS-on a serious kinda drag note, please don't forward attachments or email anecdotes or jokes, as time is money on the Asian Internet. I spent about 5 dollars downloading this batch of mail. I love you all the same, though...
smooch.

11/29/1999

What Are ya? Nuts?!?
or
A Cynic Grows up










Craig Hermes 1999/2000

Happy Diwali

Namaste, friends, from Kathmandu!
I am basking in total sensory overload-the sounds, the scent of incense & flowers, the colors...like nothing I've ever seen. I'm here during Diwali, the Hindu Christmas/festival of lights. I rounded the corner yesterday and surprised a dog wearing makeup, a tika, and a garland of marigolds. He looked sorta confused.
I met up with a great English couple who I am going to do the Annapurna trek with, starting Wednesday. 21 days of walking-think non-dysentery thoughts for me. I wish you all could experience the magic that I am now seeing...
Peace
Craig

11/04/1999

11 PM Saturday the 29th.
‡ ok. fl

So something is wrong. I ache. My glands are tender to the touch. I’ve got a 101 degree temperature and a head bone’s connected to the ache bone. I guess my body is really fighting. Much like my will is…

There is so much to learn, an overload of conflicting data, and really, no time for the introspection my intelligence requires. If my temperature continues, what next? Wait till Monday? Die on Sunday? Histrionics or fact? I certainly don’t know. Perhaps it’s better that way. I think I need more than one foot in the frigid waters before I involve myself in the war of the letters: AZT, 3TC, DDI, D4T.


Happy Easter, Craig.




"Big Load, Stud."


Got my first viral load test results. I guess they are fairly astronomical levels, judging by my doctor’s expression. Over 200,000 virus parts per milliliter of blood. She dangled such attractive words
– pneumonia,
-sulfa drugs
-forever.
And, for the first time, death. The word made her squirm, but I needed to hear her say it.
My impression was that it would not be uncommon to be gravely ill in a year or less. She praised my shrewd questions – and I ask myself – should I curse my intelligence?

Sometimes I wish I were a little less stubborn and a little more malleable. The drugs loom – a yet – I still resist.

And quietly lose my resistance.

Why must I question everything?

(Like, why does Half-n-Half have more than two ingredients?)





Oh. I see. Nothing.





Ow.



I ache a bit. Have a low grade fever. Just got over a bladder infection. And prostatiasis. A little nausea, probably nerves.
And spring is busting out all over…

March 24.


It just gets better all the time. Funny, I was sitting at my computer the other day, and I looked down at the vascular network on the back of my hand, and it really struck me. I have something running through my veins that is so toxic, that it could kill someone. It could, probably will, kill me. I feel okay, other than a bit fatigued. I’d have thought that I’d feel a bit more piquish …if so direly ill.


3/24/97

Cocktails Anyone?


So Doctor Oldschool thinks I should go on the cocktail.

Or, The Cocktail.

Ironic – did I get this from the cock or the tail? Sorry for the vulgarity – life can be a little lurid, non?

So, lets see--AZT, 3TC, Protease Inhibitor… sounds like a Toni Basil cheer-to-hell.

Now for some ciphering.



AZT = 6 365 6,205 15,000
3TC = 2 x17 x 5 x 5
Invarase = 9 6,205 31,025 $75,000.
pills / day 17 pills / year pills/5 years cost/5 years


So, if I am fortunate to stave off the big gray for five years, it would only require about 31,000 pills. Or about $75,000. A little too precious for me. Because I’m white, upper middle class, insured, it’s available. But I certainly have no more right to life than a mother in Africa… or a child in the favelas of Rio. The math is not adding up for me.

Perhaps as health deteriorates, and life becomes like the frantic struggle of one fallen through the ice, I’ll be able to make sense of the cocktail math. But, as I sit now, I am dumb, bewildered.
Confused.
I think.


*


* Interesting Journal Entry – 05/09/94 *

"Oh, izz alright, okay? You understand me?," proffered the doctor in rich, Farsi accent. "Juzt a why-russ. Go away, tree dayz."

Oddly comical, considering the accent--a bastard offspring of Boris Badinov and Ayatollah Khomeini. Virus is not word gay men like to hear.
Ever.
I think back over my last sexual encounters – I was safe. Is safe safe? Sucking someone’s saliva into your mouth would seem like a viable transmission route, but we’re told it’s not. I was given a blowjob (or four), but never came near to cumming in their mouths – for their safety. Did a condom only do it 97 % effective job?

Lots of questions accompanied this "why-russ", this "nothing." Why 102 degree temperature? At night? Why glands you can see without palpating? Nothing? Here’s hoping. Perhaps this is ridiculous, perhaps overreaction. Or perhaps it is the mark of a very different point in my life. God, I hope it is not a turning point. Six months can seem a lifetime. Being a gay man – an inquisition in wonder.

I wonder.


*
Poetry Corner.


My poem.
- Craig Hermes.

I see my smiling face
Leaning against a wall
and today
It is not looking
Too much like me-
I feel quite hollow
I stand alone and
I wish I could
Rid myself of the
void
the emptiness
which fills me up.

I wrote this in 94. I’m happier now….
Really……………

I sweah…



Necessary Space Required.


I cannot afford the energy that is being asked of friends right now. I realize that they mean well, but I cannot be there to comfort them. If I seem withdrawn, it is by my choice, out of necessity. I appreciate the concern, but it is driving me a bit nuts, this over-attentiveness. How dare anyone tell me what I must do? I do realize it is out of good intention, but the option is no more theirs than is the option of ending world hunger.

"We’ll discuss it later."

Well, actually, no we won’t. It is my decision, and, I will live, or die,
by my choice alone. Empowered, I choose choice.



Concerned.


I remember having a conversation with Mom about senility. She told me, in a half-joking manner, that if she lost her mind, she’d like me to smother her with a pillow. I know that some degree of dementia affects a large percentage of late-stage HIV infection. This, of course, is extremely troubling to me.

The scene from Longtime Companion where Mark Lamos loses touch with reality and urinates in public. That haunting line from "Rent"… ‘Will I lose my dignity…’

Will I become Don Quixote "lost in the catacombs of his mind, in some dark corridor?" Will there be a noticed decrease in linear quality or strength of will in this journal? If there is one area of my self-worth I’m confident in, it is my intelligence.

Will I care a whit when I reach my wit’s end?

Issues, issues, issues.

I am machine. Philosophic.

3/16/97