Helping Tammy

Hey everybody,

In order to best appreciate Haiti, or at least Port-Au-Prince (PAP), one must have the ability to embrace chaos.  Over the course of two weeks the best I was able to do was accept chaos, which I think is pretty good for my first time there.  I'm not simply talking about traffic or human chaos, though there's a lot of that, but I'm also talking about social and political chaos.  There are many assumptions that someone from the "first world" has about society in general that need to be either forgotten or ignored in order to successfully navigate through an environment like the one in PAP.  For anyone considering traveling to Haiti, I'd suggest trying a middle-of-the-road country before plunging in... maybe something in southeast Asia or South America?  What would you call that, a "gateway country"?

Port-Au-Prince is pleasantly innocuous-smelling, other than when you drive by an open sewer or a pile of burning tires and/or garbage.  Traffic laws, if they do exist, are loosely followed except (mercifully) at stoplights, but that gives the twelve kids hanging out on the center divider have enough time to try and hustle you for some money.  A smoothly paved road is a distant dream, as is pretty much any sort of public sanitation.  Crumbled buildings line the streets, blackouts are commonplace, and power lines coalesce into rat's nests that sometimes lie barely overhead.

Tammy booked us in at a hotel called the Visa Lodge, which with its immaculate bungalows and pristine pool doesn't look like it belongs even on the same planet as the rest of PAP.  It was at times jarring to travel from a slum to a pool in less than 15 minutes, especially in a place where water is such a precious commodity.  In order to make up for that, as some sort of mind-numbing torture they would keep the television set to ESPN news 24/7.  It's hard to wrap your mind around working in one of the poorest slums in Haiti then seeing a channel dedicated entirely to speculation about whether or not Brett Favre is going to play football this year.  We would have to seclude ourselves in the safety of the Man Cave, our dungeon-like room underneath the dining hall which quickly assumed the lovely aroma of stale beer, gummy vitamins, and balls.

From Helping Tammy

Over the course of the two weeks there were anywhere from three to nine of us working together because of our staggered arrival times.  Max, Rich, Jeremy, Tammy and I all knew each other from Thailand.  Cari (a director with Tam's charity) and Jamie are Tammy's friends from Kingston.  Nelson is an ex-Army engineer that Tammy hired to come help with the construction and design of the medical clinic.  Last but not least was Dr. Larry (aka Boot Pep) who is not really a doctor but plays one in Haiti.  He also likes to take pictures of people's asses.  This was Larry's seventh trip to Haiti since the earthquake.

HTHH (Help Tammy Help Haiti) focuses its work in a small area of Cite Soleil known as Boston.  For a bit of background you might want to check out the short Wikipedia article on Cite Soleil located HERE, though what it describes is only the tip of the iceberg.  Here's a video of us driving through Cite Soleil:



As we were driving in on my first day the car was surrounded by a bunch of half-naked kids chanting "Ta-mi!  Ta-mi!" which I assumed she had set up by bribing them with candy but actually turned out to be a recurring event.  Every time we got out of the car we'd be assaulted by a group of at least six kids who wanted us to hold their hands or carry them and, of course, hardly any of them were wearing pants.

My first couple of days involved some work in the existing clinic that was built by a missionary group called Mission Ranch.  I wouldn't really call what I did "work" since it involved handing Larry and/or Tammy any number of creams, vitamins, pedialyte pops or painkillers while they were examining a patient.  I learned certain subtleties of the medical practice, such as the use for "vag packs" and the number of acceptable observers when Tammy is examining someone for hemorrhoids (three).  From my short time as a de facto nurse practitioner it is painfully obvious that there exists a fundamental lack of infrastructure and understanding of even the most basic health care practices in Port-Au-Prince, or at least Cite Soleil.  When we arrived in the morning there was often a line out the door to the clinic, and most of the ailments were treatable with remedies that you or I could find at our corner drug store.  Compounding the problem is the lingering belief in voodoo which often pits the witch doctors' remedies in direct conflict with the application of modern medicine.

Infant care is particularly atrocious, which is not necessarily surprising when as Larry told me the mortality rate is so high that they don't celebrate a child's birthday until they're four or five years old.  The birth of a child is often regarded as the burden of another mouth to feed rather than a cause for celebration.  Many pregnancies are unwanted since it's not uncommon for girls to be raped at some point in their teenage years.

We had one case where a mother brought in a baby girl who was less than two months old and so emaciated that I could count her individual ribs.  One of Larry's hands could almost wrap around the baby's entire body.  It was difficult to figure out why the baby was so malnourished; we have to work through translators and sometimes the parents or patients are either despondant, ignorant, or outright reluctant to answer questions.  In this case, the mother was only sporadically breastfeeding the baby for some reason that was unclear.  The baby seemed like it was asleep, but when we gave it some pedialyte it perked up and started squirming around, after which I was able to feed her about an ounce of formula since that's all she could handle.  Larry and Tammy gave the mother some formula to take home but emphasized that she needs to continue trying to breastfeed the baby since a mother can stop producing breast milk in as few as three days and there's no way she'll have enough access to formula to keep the baby alive.  She was supposed to come back to check in with the baby a few days later but we never saw them.  A week later Larry did manage to bring another baby that was in a similar condition to the hospital for treatment.

I found myself more comfortable with the construction work after we broke ground on the future HTHH medical clinic.  Our team was used mostly for grunt work such as digging and moving earth and concrete while the Haitian team led by their engineer Jackson performed most of the skilled labor.  In the short time I was there, we managed to dig and pour the concrete for the foundation, lay the rebar and the columns for the base, and wall up and fill the level up to the first floor.  I left before the first floor pour, unfortunately, but you'll be able to see more detail from the pictures and video:



One random fact you may not know about Haiti:  It's hot!  Yeah... I was surprised too! Also... construction is hard work!  I know, these facts are shocking.  I was so gnarly with sweat and dirt at the end of the day that even the Haitian kids wouldn't touch me.  They would just come up and poke me with a finger, look up and say "sal" and walk away.  I'd like to point out that Tammy assured us we'd have "four or five" cement mixers available, but she failed to mention that in Haiti a cement mixer means two guys with a shovel.  We required many (many) breaks.  During one of our many (many) breaks Max asked me if it was the heat or if we were just five years older.  I had to admit it was probably both.  Even though I age backward like Benjamin Button. Mentally.

In addition to the work itself, there were constant reminders of the dangers of working in Cite Soleil.  We were always accompanied by one or more of Tammy's security team to try and avoid any trouble.  Even the short 50 yard walk from the Mission Ranch clinic to the construction site required an escort.  Occasionally we would see a U.N. armored transport cruising by, but most of the local "law enforcement" is provided by the gangs.  Perhaps one of Tammy's most remarkable accomplishments is the bond she's been able to forge with the local gang leaders in Boston whereby they not only tolerated but welcomed our presence and understood the benefits that Tammy's work could provide their community.  That understanding only has a radius of a couple the couple of city blocks that are our gang's territory, and any venturing out of that area is asking for trouble.  To be fair, though, the most dangerous part of our day usually involved Tammy's driving us to the worksite.

From Helping Tammy

About a week into it, we were invited by the locals to a football match between Boston and another team on a late Saturday afternoon.  The match itself was an incredible experience.  It was played on a concrete basketball court which was completely surrounded by people at least five deep.  Being that we were the only blancs in attendance we garnered quite a bit of attention, but it was all positive.  I have to admit that I was a bit concerned at being one of the six white people in a crowd of a couple of hundred locals in one of the poorest slums in Haiti, but that concern dissipated after only a few minutes, and by minutes I mean beers.  Kids were running up and grabbing our legs asking to have their pictures taken, our friends from the clinic and the construction site were buying us drinks, and we even got high-fives from one of the players after one of Boston's goals.  There was a play-by-play guy who liked to scream and play sounds of gunshots through the P.A. system, which was fun for everybody.  We were also treated to a bizarre and disturbing halftime show involving 8-year-old girls grinding like extras from a Britney Spears video.  Good times.

On the way home the six of us piled into the truck and took the road between Boston and Soute with Tammy taking pictures of the sunset out her driver's side window.  This is probably the point where we should've had our guard up but hey, we spaced out... we're only human.  Tammy hit the brakes as one guy moved out in front of the car looking as if we were going to hit him.  Next thing we know there are two handguns through the driver's side window as a couple of guys are struggling to grab Tammy's camera.  Tammy wisely gave it up after a few seconds of struggle and the guys ran off.  It all happened so quickly that, being in the back seat, I only realized what was going on after the fact.  I remember a black gun and a silver gun being waved around at the girls (Tammy, Cari and Jamie were in the front seats), one of which was against Tammy's head, and that's about it.  We hauled ass out of there and didn't stop until we reached the hotel.  Tammy took it hard, more so because she's the team leader and felt badly that the team had to experience it than anything else.  From my end, I felt that it was a good thing to happen.  No one was hurt and though we did lose a camera we were also reminded of the environment we were in and that we have to be aware at all times.  We found out a few days later that one of the thieves was killed when they tried to pull the same thing on a Haitian driver who didn't stop and just ran the guy over.

We had a couple of other incidents that affected us more indirectly, such as was when a couple of gangs came looking for each other down the streets of Boston requiring us to hide out in the clinic building until things blew over.  It was obvious that they weren't interested in us because they knew exactly where we were hiding.  Still, when you're walking down the street and you see anxious locals scattering back to their homes it's probably a good idea to follow the security team back into a the building and chill out for a bit.

(P.S. There is no need to mention the content of the preceding two paragraphs to my grandma so... be cool.)

I think we made some friends in Boston once we showed that we only wanted to work hard and help out in whatever way we could.  Here are a few standouts that I've stolen from Max's notes with comments from both of us:
Jonbenson- That's his name.  Not just Jon, you have to say Jonbenson.  Good kid, hung out a lot with us, got made fun of because people said he looks like King Kong.
Peter- Good guy.  Slow talker.  Kept wanting to hook us up with his sister.
Milot- Mutt-faced security guy with a constant scowl, which is what you want in a security guy.
Dodes- Young, flirty girl who hangs around the clinic and the worksite.  Will probably get somebody killed someday.
Ken Ken- Tall young kid who loaned me his Kreyol-English dictionary.  Used to be a child soldier for one of the gangs but was rehabilitated.  Has a chip on his shoulder but a good heart.
Clifton- Nice kid who translates and wants to learn English.  Changes clothes a couple of times a day, doesn't like to get dirty.
There were loads of other memorable characters that you can see in the pictures and videos.  The locals that worked with us were paid $5 per day, and the labor was coordinated by Jackson who was the local engineer responsible for construction.

We managed to have a few laughs mostly thanks to the discovery of Bavaria beer at the local Texaco station.  They give you 50% more!  For free!  And trust me on this when I say that we had days where cries of "50% more" are what kept us going. I would also like to share with you the joys of goat meat, which I assure you is not a primer on bestiality but an endorsement of Goat Kreyol.  And if you love rice and beans... this is the country for you!  Know who loves rice and beans?  Larry!  He can't get enough.  Rice and beans and protein bars!  Boot Pep, this is for you:

From Helping Tammy

Some of the guys on the worksite would try and teach us Kreyol... they would sing this song that over and over again about "craisson" which we eventually found out means watercress.  The obsession with watercress remains a mystery.  Also, if you ever want to impress Haitians on a construction site tell them "Mwah mange ciment, caca beton" which means "I eat cement and shit concrete."  It's money in the bank.  Rich was often compared to either Jesus (because of the hair) or a vampire (because of his freakish canines).  We became a popular attraction simply by virtue of the fact that we spoke English, so random dudes would show up to practice chatting or to ask us about obscure tenses and conjugations.  And it was always dudes... the only woman we ever saw between the ages of 10 and 40 was Dodes, which in retrospect is kind of weird.  They were probably hiding from Rich.  I know I'd keep my daughter as far from him as possible.

After experiencing the environment in Cite Soleil firsthand, it is obvious that what Tammy has taken it upon herself to accomplish in the Boston/Jamaica Base area is staggering.  Through persistence and force of will, a two person team of Tammy and Robinson has managed over three years to create an institution inside this small area of Cite Soleil.  It has taken extraordinary effort and persistence to ingratiate herself with the locals and, more importantly, the local gang, and cultivate the relationships necessary for the relatively incident-free construction of the water tower and now the medical clinic.  Even the U.N. soldiers that we met were amazed at our group's ability to work relatively unmolested in the Boston/Jamaica Base area, and that was directly due to the dedication to building the proverbial bridges by Tammy and Robinson.  Robinson is the real miracle worker there, juggling the relationships between the various gangs with the logistical tasks in hiring the local labor along with the partnership with the folks from outside Haiti.  It's difficult to describe with one word what Robinson's role is, other than maybe he's the facilitator that enables all the work in Jamaica Base to actually take place.  Tammy said it best... the project could continue if something happened to her but not if something happened to Robinson.

Port-Au-Prince also held an interesting cast of characters among the non-natives since there is nobody who goes to Port-Au-Prince for tourism... every visitor has an agenda.  There was Chuck, an executive for a company called DRC that specializes in post-disaster reconstruction, who drank with us and generously bought us all dinner a couple of times. He was meant to stay in Haiti for several months to oversee a construction project for the World Food Bank.  There's a lot of money to be made in the disaster business.  Then there was Jim, an old man from Arizona who was in Cite Soleil looking for a little girl he saw in a picture on the internet that he said "looked like his wife when she was young."  To what end he wanted to meet this girl nobody is sure, so we just assumed he was a perv.  Then there were the people from an NGO that shall remain nameless that really wanted to find some way to work with Tammy but which she wisely avoided.  You could tell in a couple of minutes that these guys were worthless... a bunch of hippies and travelers trying to set up self-perpetuating projects to justify their group's existence.  I tuned out immediately after they started talking about the utility of geodesic domes.  Jeremy and Rich have some more first-hand experiences I'm sure they'd be happy to share.

If you ever need a bit of a reality check about how good you have it then by all means visit PAP.  I've never had someone ask me if I can take them in my checked luggage before. It's hard to believe that the U.S. and Haiti are on the same planet, let alone a short distance apart.  And believe me... if you need confirmation that these are literally different worlds, nothing is as striking as staring out your airplane window as you leave Port-Au-Prince and then seeing the endless golf courses of Miami less than two hours later.

What we experienced mostly as observers is a situation that seems to have no foreseeable resolution.  As Tammy will attest, things now are not that much different from before the earthquake in Cite Soleil.  The U.N. presence seems necessary in order to maintain what little peace there is in the area, but as with any military presence it breeds a certain amount of resentment among many of the locals, especially those who have been subject to round-ups or other rough tactics.  Food distribution and water supply continue to be problems for the area; basic infrastructure needs must be addressed before anything else can be discussed.  There are schools available where kids who are brave enough to resist the temptation of the gangs can learn English and other subjects, but there seems to be nowhere for them to apply that knowledge after graduation.  We're talking about a place where workers don't wear eye protection when they're welding because they feel that they won't live long enough for it to matter. The kids use rusty nails as play things and spend much of their days throwing rocks at each other.  Most of our friends have never gone beyond the hundred yard radius of the Boston area... when they would ask if we were staying at Visa Lodge it was almost with a sense of awe.  Elections mean gang warfare; candidates funnel guns and money to the gangs that support them so the gangs can intimidate rival areas into voting for their candidate or not voting at all.

If you want to contribute to a project that you can be certain will directly help a community in Haiti, please consider donating to Help Tammy Help Haiti (http://www.helptammyhelphaiti.com).  Expenses have risen since the earthquake and more money is needed for the completion of the medical clinic.  The donation link on the website is currently not working, but feel free to contact Tammy at tammy@helptammyhelphaiti.com for details on how you can donate.  You may also want to consider Doctors Without Borders who were the only other group we saw working in Cite Soleil.

Anyhow, enjoy the pictures which I mostly stole from everybody else.  Fair warning, some of them may be a bit unpleasant.  Besides the ones of Rich, which should go without saying.  Here's the link to the album:

https://photos.app.goo.gl/hhZJKqi43nkSBLcc6

Take 'er easy,
Dave

Fun With Meds

Hey everybody,

As some of you may know, I will shortly be heading to Haiti to work with Tammy's charity but mostly so that I have something new to lead with at dinner parties.

I have a group of very generous friends who were kind enough to contribute small donations to my medical supply fund, which in most cases was just enough to karmically offset their purchase of a ticket to see Avatar in 3D.  As proof that I didn't spend all the money on hookers and booze, I offer you this:

That's right, that's my bed.  Try to take in the majesty.  It's a view only a lucky few have had the privilege of enjoying... and by "lucky few" I mean the cleaning lady.  Speaking of my bed, I've had this persistent stain that I haven't been able to clear off my bedspread for months.

First of all... what the hell is it?  Secondly, how do I get rid of it?  I've tried Shout and Tide with bleach, I've applied detergent directly, I've scrubbed it in hot water with a toothbrush (don't worry, not mine my roommate's)... nothing.  It's the Rasputin of stains.  Somebody please give me some suggestions.  But I digress.

Back to the topic at hand... supplies.  In case you are interested, here is a list of things I have packed for the trip:  32 lbs. of epsom salts, 8 bottles of non-aspirin pain reliever, 6 bottles of ibuprofen, several hundred gauze pads of different sizes, 3 boxes of pedialyte pops, 6 cans of first aid spray, 5 bottles of pink eye relief drops, 12 rolls of elastic bandages, 4 rolls of athletic tape, 1 sledgehammer, 1 mallet, 2 framing hammers, 9 masks, 3 pairs of work gloves, 3 pairs of latex covered gloves, and 6 tubes of Lotrimin anti-fungal for ringworm.

By the way, I'd like to thank Carlee for helping me out with the shopping.  You know you have something special when you can yell "Hey... I need something for ringworm!" at someone across a crowded drug store.  That's what you get for asking me to pick you up at the airport.

Anyhow, I'd like to take this last bit to thank those of you who contributed to the cause.  Please know that what you were able to give has gone directly to the purchase of these supplies which in turn will go directly to the hands of those who need them.  So a big thank you to:  Jason, Grace, Brighty, Woody, Kim, Mom, Deep, Deanndra, Sarah, Tom, John, Cindy and Eric, Paul, Nonna and Auntie, Carlee, Pam, Kit and Pat, Sue and Uday.  I'd especially like to thank Jake... I think his $3.89 is really what put me over the top.

I'll keep you all posted as to how things go.

Take 'er easy,
Dave

Help Tammy Help Haiti

Hello everybody,

As some of you may know, I spent some time a few years back volunteering with the relief effort in Khao Lak, Thailand after the December 26th tsunami. Among the many remarkable people I met during my stay was Tammy Babcock, a Canadian native with the heart of a lion and the mouth of a sailor. After returning home, Tammy decided that she would continue her philanthropic efforts by founding a charity to help the people in the slums on the outskirts of Port Au Prince. For the past couple of years, Help Tammy Help Haiti (http://www.helptammyhelphaiti.com) has been involved in several projects in Cite Soleil, including construction of a water tower that was completed in summer 2009.

I realize that you are probably being bombarded by media reports about the earthquake and solicitations for donations by notable charities like Oxfam, Save the Children, Red Cross, The Clinton Foundation, MSF, and many others. I encourage you to give what you can to those organizations since they are on the ground right now trying to provide immediate relief. But if you are interested in contributing to a small organization, I urge you to consider donating to Tammy's charity. Your donation will go directly to helping the people of Cite Soleil in the rebuilding effort which will take place over next few months and years, on immediate clean-up and rebuilding and on long-term projects such as the medical clinic that Tammy's team was in the process of constructing but whose funds the UN has now understandably withdrawn in order to deal with the current emergency. Donating through the site is simple and even a few dollars will go a long way.

Tammy will be heading to Port Au Prince at the end of January, assuming they have resumed civilian flights, or soon thereafter. Once on the ground, she will be coordinating relief efforts in Cite Soleil. As soon as a volunteer initiative can be organized, I plan on joining Tammy to help in whatever way I can.



For more information and to make a donation, please visit http://www.helptammyhelphaiti.com

Take 'er easy,
Dave

A slice of Delicate Pie...

I laughed, I cried, it was much better than "Cats." Plus there were free beers backstage.

When you cover Zeppelin, you have to bring your A game. I don't have an A game, it's more like a C+ game, so it's good that I have my little bro to cover me up on the guitar, along with a kick-ass rhythm section and a blistering lead singer. Still, I have to say that for our first gig we sounded pretty good. Here's one of my favorite clips, a groovy cover of "Custard Pie..."



The rest of the gig can be found here...
http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Delicate%20Pie&search=tag

We got the video straight through the soundboard, which really doesn't convey the way the audience was going mental. I think there was some fainting, perhaps a trampling incident or two. Next stop, O2 arena...

Ichigo Ichie

I like Japan. The cab drivers wear white gloves and they have beer in vending machines. The only people who jaywalk are tourists. They have toilets that automatically spray water up your butt and play music so people don't hear you blowing ass. Awesome.

I flew in to Tokyo but went straight to Kyoto on the bullet train to meet up with Lee. He was there for the Aikido world championships in which he was supposed to compete but ended up tearing a ligament in his thumb during practice. Important note: Aikido is the martial art practiced by ass-kicking renaissance man Steven Seagal.

"People constantly mistake me for George Yoshinaga."

Unfortunately, during the tournament I never saw anybody's arm broken backward or their trachea torn out of their neck. For those of you that have never watched competitive Aikido, I'll summarize it for you. Basically, one guy goes after another guy with a dildo and tries to hit him with it, and the other guy tries to disarm said dildo, and both guys try to throw each other to the ground. Strange sport. I was lucky enough to watch a couple of days of this homo-erotic dance courtesy of Lee and his teammates. If they could only incorporate the teabagging that's invoved in Jiujitsu, then you'd really have something. We also were able to see demonstrations of Kendo (sword fighting) and Naginata (polearm fighting) at the Budo Center.

On our first night in town, Lee and I met a Japanese guy named Masa at the bar in my hostel and invited him out with us for the night. Well, it's more like we decided we needed an interpreter so we forced him to come out and booze it up with us, the poor bastard. Lee had never had sushi in his life. He was actually thinking about giving up on eating fish until we went to a sushi conveyor-belt joint and took down 24 plates. Lee made us go back to the same place every night we were in Kyoto. We then hit the bars and ended up in this small sake bar run by a cackling fiend named Mr. Ichi. Somehow we ended up being joined by a couple of hipster types from Osaka, and every time Masa would say he didn't want any more beers we'd say ok and buy another round. Like I said... poor bastard. He seemed to end up liking us anyway and taught us the saying "Ichigo Ichie" which has something to do with an auspicious meeting or making new friends. Here's how Masa later explained it via e-mail: "One of terms that explain spirit of tea ceremony. The one that knowledge with important desire that it is meeting that is never, possession of host and guest of both kind faithfulness, and intersection of today's one meeting through life was taught." So I'm glad we got that straightened out.

It seemed as though most of Japan decided to vacation in Kyoto while I was there because 95% of the tourists were Japanese. And if you like shrines and temples, this is the place for you! Luckily as a city it's not too big so it's easily walkable. I really liked it from the get-go... once you get out of downtown there are height limits on the buildings and you can still stumble upon some traditional houses here and there. There were quite a few women walking around in traditional meiko outfits. The people were friendly, the vibe was mellow, the surroundings were beautiful... I could've easily spent a few more days there. I think you'll see what I mean from the pictures. Lee's team ended up with a good showing in the tournament and we had another big night out with his teammate Richard before leaving for Tokyo. Which is like going to another planet.

If you like amber hair, cartoon porn, girls with lots of makeup wearing mini-skirts and boots, and neon lights, you will love Tokyo. Lee was on a mission to pick up some manga (Japanese comic books) for his niece with the only requirement being that she likes dogs so it has to have dogs. Sounded easy enough, so we went to Akihabara (electric town, with all the crazy neon billboards) that is home to one of the biggest manga shops in Tokyo. It was indeed impressive... there were seven floors of manga: two for regular comics and the rest for manga porn. And let me tell you that is some sick shit! Just think of the sickest, weird, fetish stuff you can come up. Now double it. If you still can't picture it, don't worry... I can help. There's girl-on-boy, girl-on-girl, boy-on-boy, guns, plants, animals, chicks with dicks, aliens... and that was just the third floor. They even have anime porn videos playing throughout the store on big screens. Lee didn't even want to ask about dog comics because he thought they'd give him something involving bestiality.

And all around Akihabara we had these girls coming up to us dressed like french maids or schoolgirls handing us flyers to go to their cafes where girls dressed like french maids or schoolgirls wait on you. And close to our hostel in Asakusa they had stills from the porno movies they were showing at the theater posted right in front of it! Porno still shots in public! Did I also mention the cuddle pet stores, where you can rent a puppy or a kitten for an hour so you can cuddle with it? And the love hotels in Shibuya? This town is f'ing crazy!

The manga search didn't go too well as you can imagine. We went through a few other neighborhoods, had some beers here and there, ended up as the only foreigners in a tiny, super-smoky yakitori joint where they stuck us in a back corner with a plywood table, then had an unsuccessful attempt to sing karaoke at 3 am with a couple from Barcelona.

Lee went home the next day, which unfortunately for him meant he missed one of the six annual Sumo tournaments they have in Japan. If you think sumo is just a bunch of fat guys stomping around and running into each other... you're wrong. The sound of man boobs slapping together as two titans collide in the middle of the ring is something I won't soon forget. And the Japanese go absolutely apeshit during these matches. Well, at least for the 10 seconds that they're actually fighting.

On my last day in Tokyo I woke up early to hit the Tsukiji market which is the largest fish market in all of Japan. It's a full-on experience when you're half asleep... it's the size of four or five football fields with carts zooming all over the place, a slick film of fish juice all over the ground and a bunch of Japanese people yelling at each other trying to buy wholesale tuna. Oh... the tuna. Walking around that place was tuna porn. I wanted to smother myself with it. There are sushi restaurants outside the market where you can get the fresh stuff. Nothing like $70 worth of sushi at 7:30 in the morning. I'll probably end up with mercury poisoning after this trip. I guess that ruins my chances of being cast in a David Mamet play.

So I'm back home now which means you won't have to worry about me hassling you with posts for a while. Here's a video of some of the random stuff I saw in Japan...


Randomness in Japan from DB13 on Vimeo.


Lucky for me, I managed to get back in time for the Folsom Street fair. Where else can you feel out of place because you're not wearing assless chaps? We were walking by some weird kinky bondage thing featuring a dominatrix whipping a tied-up naked guy with an enormous shlong when this guy in front of us who is trying to take a picture with his iPhone turns to his buddy and asks "How do you zoom in with this thing?" You gotta love San Francisco.

Anyhow, in case you're interested, here are the pictures. Don't worry, they're only from Japan... I didn't have my camera at the fair.

https://photos.app.goo.gl/Fpo4d3ihFWUtzsZk6

Take 'er easy,
Dave

P.S. If you want to see more of the Aikido/Kendo/Naginata video or more of the Sumo Tournament, here are the links.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t1FwQ2ERAdI
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZQqeSSYeuE

The Marriage of Vincenzo

First thing's first... apparently Roger Moore is not dead. Although judging by this picture they simply figured out a way to animate his skeletal remains (thanks to Kendall for the image).















On the way to Koh Samui for my buddy Vince's wedding I decided to stop for a couple of days in Phuket to visit my friend Mui and to take a side trip to Khao Lak and Koh Kho Khao. I'm not going to go into detail about that part of my trip other than to say it was immensely gratifying to see people living in the houses we worked on.

I will, however, go into detail about what Mui is doing on Phuket and why you should care. A few years ago Mui bought some land on Phuket in an out of the way area in the center of the island. Ever since, he's been working on a project to develop the land on his own using his own funds. The plan is to use the land for two reasons: a small school for poor children to learn English and computer skills, and a dormitory for terminally ill children from the Thai countryside that would like to see the ocean before they die. He has already begun construction and has architect's drawings for the buildings. Mui's hoping to have this thing finished up by next summer, at which time you can expect to be blasted by me with a bunch of emails. Mui is not looking for money or donations (he may have a sponsorship lined up though he wants to finance this on his own) but what he's going to need are volunteers. It shouldn't be a tough sell, trying to help poor and sick kids on a tropical island, but you never know with people. Anyhow, you've been warned.

From Phuket it was on to Koh Samui for Vince's wedding. What more can I say about Thailand, especially the islands? I consider this country my third home after Italy and the U.S. I love the street Som Tam (and Larb Moo for you JW), the fresh fish, the gorgeous beaches, and even the general chaos and randomness. Most of all I love the smiling, friendly Thai people who laugh at you when you're mangling their language. Well, except in places like Samui where they're so beaten down by asshole tourists that they stop trying. But even there all it takes is trying to order something that's not on the menu (or maybe doesn't exist) and the smiles break out again.

Of course, there are plenty of things to hate in Thailand, mostly tourist-related. There are the douchy backpackers who come to the islands, buy some fisherman pants and linen shirts, then blast Bob Marley to show you how alternative and counter-cultural they are... just like all the other backpackers. There's the people riding around on motorbikes with no helmets, or shirts, or shoes, like there's some kind of Thai forcefield around them that magically protects against cranial injury. And there's the constant parade of fat old (and young) white guys with young Thai chicks.

Sometimes I can't figure this place out. There is no porn, and even the Thai Maxim magazine is kid stuff compared to the U.S. version, but you walk down the street for five minutes and are propositioned 12 times for a massage with a happy ending. The day of the bachelor party we chartered a speedboat to Koh Tao for some snorkeling and diving and the dive instructor was telling us about how they organize a yearly "shagaboard" where they charter a yacht for a week for some exclusive clients, load it up with 10 Thai girls, and then proceed to take the clients out diving and shagging. He even let us know which massage parlor on Samui gives free hand jobs, all with an amusement that I found kind of sad. And Samui is tame compared to other parts of Thailand like Bangkok and Patong in Phuket (no ping pong shows allowed on Samui).

I can't say we didn't take advantage of some of what the island had to offer the night of the bachelor party. I know that may seem somewhat hypocritical after the previous paragraph, but I can assure you that we didn't partake in anything that wouldn't be kosher in any western city. I will let you select the events of the evening from following choices:
a) Attended a ladyboy cabaret
b) Frequented a girly bar
c) I was challenged to a dance battle at a nightclub at 3 AM by a crazy, angry Thai girl
d) We lit an auspicious lantern on the beach for Vince
e) A quiet evening discussing the book "The Secret" by Rhonda Byrne
Which one doesn't belong?
Luckily, I didn't have my camera with me. Actually, that's more lucky for Vince, even though they didn't allow pictures anyway in the girly bar. Would've been embarrassing for Vince to be photographed when those girls were diving in after the ping pong balls in his pants. Good thing no one recorded this on any sort of mass medium that is publicly available.

I also got a chance to train at WMC muay thai on Lamai Beach, which was great except for the part where they paired me up with a 6'6" guy from New Zealand who repeatedly punched me in the face. Although the puffiness in the pictures is probably due more to the bachelor party. I've found that drinking several M150s counters the effects of the Changover... no swollen hands and feet the next day! But I digress. A couple of the Contender tv show guys train at that gym so it must be decent... Dzhabar from season one and Eli from season two whom I saw fight when we went to the stadium on Saturday night. He absolutely kicked the shit out of some poor Thai guy that he outweighed by at least 20 pounds. Here's some video:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=InDqZcQy6eM

Anyhow, the whole reason we all came to Samui was for Vince's wedding, which was fantastic. They kept it small, maybe about 20 people or so, and they had it on the beach right in front of the resort where most of the wedding party was staying. I felt a bit sorry for Vince since he made the stylistic decision to sport a tux for his wedding on a tropical island. When I patted him on the back his jacket felt completely soaked through. He did make quite an entrance, however:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8yC3yLFQb1U

The two highlights of the evening for me were a) Michaela's dad dressing exactly like Jackie Treehorn... I wanted to ask him if he had a personalized notepad, and b) the introduction to palinka, which is apparently a Romanian grappa made from plums. Brutal stuff. Good times were had by all.

Without further ado, here are the pictures:

https://photos.app.goo.gl/2RmqWUigXMrPjEyz9

Take 'er easy,
Dave

My 200 dollar cup of coffee

I was in Hoi An sitting at a streetside vendor having a cup of coffee and minding my own business. These two women are gabbing away in Vietnamese when one of them turns to me and starts speaking in English (kind of) asking me where I'm from and what-have-you. We're chatting away for a few minutes, and just when I let my guard down she says "Come to see my shop!" Aw, shit. For those of you that don't know, Hoi An is the tailoring capital of Vietnam. There are probably over a hundred shops that will make you just about anything you want to wear... all you have to do is point to something in a magazine and you can have it the next day. Suits, jackets, shoes, shirts... The D.A. would go crazy here.

Anyway, next thing you know I'm with Emma at her shop across the street getting the business end of a measuring tape. I didn't even want a freakin' suit, I just wanted some linen pants for Vince's wedding. She's yapping away, talking some crazy shit in English then Vietnamese to her minions, pinching my cheeks, hugging me, and I think I just bought a suit, two shirts, two ties and a pair of pants for 200 bucks. Of course they take credit cards! "I make you look like James Bond!" Which is good, unless it's Roger Moore, seeing as how he's dead and all.

Hoi An is a riverside colonial town that is composed mainly of tailors, souvenir shops, restaurants, and hotels. It rained pretty much nonstop for 4 days while I was there, so I got to watch a lot of cable TV. I enjoyed watching Black Hawk Down in the original English version with an overdubbed Vietnamese woman doing all the voices. There was one three hour break in the rain that I used to visit the 8th century Champa ruins at My Son, but to be honest the motorbike ride there and back was the most exciting part of the trip. I came to Hoi An via Da Nang, and I think my Vietnam vet friends will be happy to hear that there's a Hyatt regency resort going up on China Beach across the way from the old U.S. air force base.

I did take in another excellent cooking class where I learned how to make Cha Ca and Pho from scratch. We got to visit a farm where they grow herbs and vegetables, and where this insane old Vietnamese woman served us tea. She was talking to herself for a while, then yelling at us, then staring off into space. Then she started yelling at her dog because it was climbing on the furniture, so I said something like "I think that dog has no idea of the consequences if he misbehaves." So a couple of people laughed and the woman thought we were laughing at her and started going nuts and our guide had to scramble to get us back to the van.

I also managed to memorize the script that all the street kid vendors use to sell you stuff... "You buy bracelet? Tiger Balm? Where you from? Do you have any coins for my collection?" They all come up and cycle through that same routine. I can't figure out what the angle is on the coins.

So the night before I'm set to fly back to Hanoi I go to pick up my clothes from Emma. Everything fits great... except the jacket. It looks like the sleeves were stitched to the shoulders by someone with Parkinson's. When I point this out to Emma, she just looks at me and gestures like I need to iron it out. Iron out my ass! I start pointing out the other jackets around the store and how they don't have this sort of poofy shape to the shoulders and she continues insisting it just needs ironing and then yelling at me in Vietnamese. I know I'm not going to win this argument because a) I'm a giant wuss, b) I already paid so I have no leverage, and, most importantly, c) she has scary foot claws. I'm not joking... her toenails extend to about half an inch beyond the end of her toes and they look sharp, like raptor talons with nail polish on them, or maybe it's dried blood. Whatever they are, it's freaking me out. So fuck it, maybe I can get Ang's tailor to fix the sleeves for me when I get back home. All I know is I got completely railroaded by a tiny Vietnamese woman into buying a mangled suit that I don't even need. I am such a jackass.

My next destination was Sa Pa, a mountain town known for its hikes in the northwest of Vietnam. To my eyes, it looks like the French got a hold of this place because it reminds me of an alpine village. I was on a two-day trip with four girls and a Vietnamese guide named Hung which took us through mostly minority hill towns belonging to the black H'Mong and the Dzay people. You might recognize the H'Mong from the pictures, the women wear all black and are constantly harrassing tourists trying to get them to buy trinkets, blankets and whatnot. They are freakin' persistent... one of them followed me around for about 15 minutes as I was walking around the town at a distance of five feet, our conversation consisting of her saying "You buy?" every few seconds and me saying "no." She even waited outside one of the shopts for me to come out so she could start in on me. They should have these people working on cold calls, not selling blankets. It was like the hill tribe version of Glengarry Glen Ross.... some village elder yelling at them to put that tea down, because tea is for closers.

We were told by our guide not to buy anything from the H'Mong, especially from the kids, because the Vietnamese feel like it perpetuates their cycle of poverty. Instead of sending the kids to schools, which are funded by the government, the families will send them out to sell trinkets repeating the same thing over and over again (it's kind of faint, you may have to turn up the volume)....


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7jXpBPlySOE

The government also wants them to stop having 10 or 12 kids per family and limit it to two. Well, good luck with that, because I dont' think they have cable up in the H'Mong villages. Although the Dzay seemed to have quite a few satellite dishes, but that's because they're really dialled into the homestay business.

Ethnic minority fun facts: 20% of the population of Vietnam is non-Vietnamese. There are 53 ethnic minorities spread throughout Vietnam. We spent the night in a Dzay village in a homestay hosted by Mr. Chin and his wife Doan. I don't remember a lot about the evening, except I learned "Moot, Hai, Ba, Zho!" which I think means "One, two, three, Go!" and "Chum pan chum" (I think) which means "100 percent". Yes, I am your international cultural envoy, ladies and gentlemen!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H7H3wWbyuTQ

Sorry about the crappy quality of the video, I was in no condition to screw around with the settings. Mr. Chin doesn't speak any English but he does speak the international language of booze. Hung told me that they host travelers every day, sometimes as many as 20 at a time. If that's true, his liver should be on display somewhere.

The hike through the area around Sa Pa was outstanding. I've not been gifted with particularly flowery language, so I'll let the pictures do the talking. The trek was relatively easy... the upshot of having trekked in Nepal I guess. Wait... there is no upshot. Screw you Mark.

I had one last day in Hanoi and all I wanted was Bun Cha. I found a stand in an alley a few blocks from my hostel where the old lady serves up unlimited amounts of food for 15000 dong, which is about 80 cents. The only drawback is that whenever I sit down I feel like the oldest one at the kids' table. I barrel into everything like Will Ferrell when he has the dart in his neck in Old School... the Vietnamese people around me shaking their heads as they give me about a three-foot radius of eating space. Between that and the Banh My Pate, I was a happy boy.

Anyhow, I never thought I'd be looking forward to going to Thailand to get away from noise.

Here are the pics:

https://photos.app.goo.gl/dSxrN5KNtPs6BPQCA

Take 'er easy,
Dave