Bus from China to Luang Prabang – Laos

This ride was a winding journey through the mountains of souther nChina and northern Laos. The bus was not empty, but very roomy, and I enjoyed the views from a double sleeper bed. The border crossing was straight-forward, and probably took one and a half hours all up. I spent some of that time inquiring into an older American’s perspective on his nations foreign policy (he started it!). Safe to say his perspective wildly differed from my own, and from one of his countrymen who approached me after to make sure I know that the older man’s views were not representative. His views were, however, probably shared by the maker’s of an unbelievably crap military action movie that was playing for too long during the bus ride.

I didn’t pay too much attention to the movie though, with the scenery being quite amazing. Village after village of wooden and bamboo huts on stilts set mongst dense, dense forest (full of unexploded ordinance from the US’ ’secret war’). Every hut was also accompanied by a satellite dishes whose metal construction contrasted with the more permeable feel of the house. Laos was definitely an order of magnitude less infrastructure than in China – this was the main road, and it was pretty bad. And much of it was even less developed than what I saw in India. But apparently the north-south highway link with China will soon be complete and everything will change as Laos hosts the main road links between all of SE Asia.

Other sights worth sharing included the teenage children on the side of the road playing the mating game. This involves pairs of girls and boys throwing a (bamboo) ball back and forth with one hand. It was quite surreal to see them playing this dignified and beautiful by the road-side in brightly coloured clothes, their spare hand holding an umbrella to shield them from sun.

The other less savoury sight was a road-side market selling fried rats and guinea pigs. I actually thought it was ok, as why wouldn’t you eat them. But one of the fellow vegetarians on the bus was pretty distraught at our bus driver buying a large, aggressive guinea pig in a bamboo cage, and slab of meat from the leg of a small pig then leaving it on the floor in the middle of the bus.

Yuanyang (Delirious) – China

Yuanyang in SW Yunnan is an amazing place, a hilltop town increasingly famous for its picturesque rice paddies extending out across the steep valleys. Even more exciting is that more than 88% of the area’s population are ethnic minorities including the Hani, Yi, Dai, Miao, Yao and Zhuang. Those two factors, and the fact that it seemed relatively remote, mean I planned to stay there for four days to finish some work, hang-out, meditate and enjoy the views and culture.

While the views were great on the first afternoon, the rest of the time it was quite cold, and the whole area was covered in a thick, thick mist. Seriously, you could hardly see 5m in front of you. But what I could see was great – every woman emerging from the mist on the road or in the markets was wearing some amazing hand-sewn costume that was both practical and beautiful. The fog was a blessing forgetting work done, though not for getting my clothes to dry out.

Below is a brief description of my experience on the last day in Yuanyang….

After being locked in my cell-like accomodation, I walk to the filthy, permanently wet toilet area then on to the slick streets. Emerging from Chen family’s guest house, my spirits lift slightly as the fog has cleared a bit to give nearly a full 20m of visibility! Sunshine too is reaching through, meaning there is a bit of warmth in the air. Even some patches of road are dry – something I haven’t seen for days.

With a few more steps I realise I am slightly delirious, probably attributable to releasing myself from the stage pattern of the last few days. I start quietly but insanely giggling with joy as I pass more of the beautiful and intricately adorned Hani women. I walk past one, standing slightly apart from a huddle of 5. Just as I look and admire the stitching and colour on her clothes, she makes a loud guttural noise, gathers a huge wad of phlegm and spits it out into the street.

How simply wonderful and divine!!!

This juxtaposition keeps me giggling for a good 10 minutes more… I wander in and through the markets full of fresh vegetables and freshly slaughtered domestic animals (goose, pigs, dogs) then on to my hot bun lady. Everyday I have been here I have stopped to get some steamed buns. Some with sweat or vegetable filling, some plain (although you can choose from five different types of flour, including one mixed with red beans) and all for 0.5 yuan: about 10 Australian cents.

But, I think I really need something substantial for dinner. It is, after all, nearly 17:30: in half an hour all the street restaurants will be closed and dinner will be over. I choose my vegetables as the man heats sauces and broth in a clay pot over a jet-like flame of gas. As I sit to eat, and consider adding a whole tablespoon more of MSG, just to be ‘crazy’. Instead, I realise what the dish really lacks a bit of fire. No chilli was added to this bowl, the owner probably presuming I can’t take it. Well, I add about ¼ teaspoon of the chilli mix. Somehow, that miniscule amount of chilli manages to turn every mouthful of nearly 1.5L of soup, noodles and vegetables into a eye-watering test of my mouth’s ability to handle heat.

Fantastic!!!!

I continue laughing. Additionally rejoicing in the fact that almost every meal, every ingredient used here (MSG excepted) was probably grown or harvested within 5km (including the water), and if picked or chopped, the earliest it would have been done was yesterday. I find this totally amazing. And, even the fact that I find this amazing is the tragedy of modern food systems in ‘developed’ nations.

After dinner, I spend the night in the local eco-tourism visitor centre, the best of its sort I have come across so far http://www.yuanyangwindow.com/. I spend most of the time emailing off the work I have just completed, and researching some more links and people to meet up with on the rest of my travels, especially in Australia. And, I  then decide it feels the right time to leave Yuanyang.

The next morning I have meditated, packed, and am out the door by 6.30. A few more moments of joy and laughter borne of cultural and linguistic misunderstandings and I am on the bus towards Lunchun. Having not listened to much music this trip, and still being in a deliriously happy mood, I turn on my MP3 player. The first song that thumps out is a ‘Ministry of Sound’ uplifting house tune who’s sole line (repeated endlessly) is ‘I’ve got so much love to give’. I really do, did at that moment, have ’so much love to give’ for the world, and my experience in it.

And then more minority women with beautiful hands – shaped by oil, sun, work and care for craft and children – hopped on the bus and started gossiping in a beautiful, tonal yet utterly unintelligible language. Oh, and carrying an insanely large sweet, iced birthday cake in a bright pink box. GOD! What joy there is in ‘not knowing’ – about the box, the language, or whether the bus driver will avoid driving off a cliff in the heavy mist. The beauty of not knowing, resting safe in the knowledge that you have no idea whatsoever what is going on. For everything I don’t understand, I want to know and am curious, but also hilariously aware of the incomprehensibility of it all.

Wonderful!!!!

So beautiful I started to cry. Cry at the beauty, love, joy that is always available in every moment if only I could be bothered to look. I celebrated my joy by coaxing a large glob of phlem out of the back of my throat and spitting it out the window of the bus. I felt so proud – another step taken towards being truly Chinese.

Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful.

Butterflies

One of my themes of this journey has been transformation. This was represented by the butterfly mask I had attached to my backpack. I rainbow-coloured party mask I had picked up in Perth. Having this theme attuned me to looking out for butterflies, and I was happy to see quite a few along the way.

The first, incredibly, was on the tube from Vauxhall towards King’s Cross. Goodness knows how the poor butterfly got in there, but there it was, sitting on the floor in the carriage, right in front of me.

The second significant butterfly sighting was on one of the Iranian buses from Yazd to Zahedan. Despite the rough and ready nature of the crew, the bus was decorated with at least one pretty butterfly.

When at Navdanya, we took a short trip to the Wildlife Institute of India. Quite an interesting place, with a great library, though with a somewhat academic, quiet air about it. A short talk was given to us by one of the senior people there on pollinators, which I enjoyed. It was mainly about bees, but included quite a bit on butterflies and bugs which are also some of the (very) few species of animal which perform perhaps one of the most important and irreplaceable ecosystem services – pollination of plants that provide the food we all eat. Given the short lifespan of bees, and butterflies (1 month), the dramatic impact on their populations of chemicals or changes in vegetation or climate, it is actually amazing they are still hanging on to do this important job for us. We are in big trouble now that their numbers are seriously starting to decline, as has been widely reported over the past couple of years in North America and Europe. These reports have been often accompanied by Einstein’s observation:

While in India, contemplating the many Hindu gods, I started to contemplate creating my own god to worship. In one morning yoga session I invoked the god of chocolate, and later considered what would be the appropriate characteristics of a butterfly god. Certainly their importance to agriculture suggests they are worthy of God status and their ephemeral nature makes it easy to segue into teachings about the impermanence of life and physical reality.

I hope that my butterfly mask now sits atop a suitably multi-coloured pedastal, surrounded by worshippers and offerings, somewhere in eastern India. At some point during one day’s bus and train journeys in Kolkata it disappeared from my backpack, presumably taken by an admirer. Sad for me, but in-line with the nature of butterflies. This is one long migration that this butterfly did not complete.

Tone, Posture and Transitions

Sometimes a word will get stuck in my mind for a long time, occupying my attention. It sticks out a bit like a loose and squeaky floorboard in a hallway you always walk down. Except rather than being annoying, these words serve as points of inquiry into their meaning and my relationship with them.

In 2005, the word stuck in my head was ’strategic’. This word contributed to my decision to go to Sweden. In the last few months in the UK this year, I felt I could really let go of that word as I received confirmation from others that I was able to be strategic, and demonstrating a ‘late-strategist’ action-logic (for more info on this framework, go here.

I currently have three words stuck in my head, and have done for about 6 months now. This short piece is to explain what they are, and what my thoughts are. Perhaps these words mean something to you too?

TONE

The word tone means so much to me now. This is because of awareness of my own tone of voice, and how changing tone is a very effective way to shift energy, dynamics and the relationships with others. Additionally, I now use the word ‘tone’ to mean the ‘vibe’ of meetings, groups, products or even spaces.

Starting to learn Mandarin (a very tonal language), and the desire to sing have partially extended my understanding and conscious use of tone. My mum taking offence at my tone of voice in discussions with her as a teenager is probable a major learning point too. And, this understanding extends beyond just me, but to also consider the tone of lots of people.

On the grossest level, chanting together (e.g. Tibetan monks, or as part of yoga practice) can create a shared tone. And, some spiritual traditions are very specific about the use of tone and its power to enlighten. Football supporters around the world would probably have a similar experience during matches, but the experience evoked by shouts of ‘you fat bastard’ may be slightly different to ‘om shanti, shanti…’ Or, the tonality of language can be used to distinguish between different regional dialects.

Tone for me is also a doorway into exploring subtle energies. That is, vibrations and sensations that are not-so-obvious to most of us most of the time. Familiar experiences of subtle energies may be the hairs raising on the back of your neck, the electric rush of sexual attraction, or the burning in legs after strenuous exercise. There are many layers of subtlety, and in some meditative practices you are invited to sharpen your awareness and investigate them down to the atomic level. After all, matter is comprised of waves and harmonics of subatomic vibrations in energy fields.

POSTURE

I have been thinking about this word for a year or so now. At the gross level, it is because I am conscious of the degree to which I have good posture when sitting or standing. And because meditation usually supports good posture (and clear thinking / not thinking) through encouraging you to have a straight back.

But the meaning of this word extends beyond the physical and into the metaphysical. ‘Posture’ evokes questions about how I relate to space, to others, and the universe. Think of atlas holding the world on his shoulder, Rodin’s thinker hunched over, Obama standing in front of a massive crowd, or Buddha sitting cross-legged. These ‘postures’ imply a state of mind and relationship with people and experience. This may be a posture of inquiry and curiousity, contempt, peace or violence.

My exploration of this word extends to being more aware my relationship to others and experience physically, psychologically, and spiritually. In physical contexts, it means I often play with where I sit, and how I face and relate to others that I am meeting. Even seeking to move positions (in my chair, between chairs, within the space) during meetings and conversations to see what difference it makes.

TRANSITIONS

I remember first thinking about this word freshly when at the Integral Sustainability week in Boulder in 2006. We were doing ‘Integral Life Practice’ (an integration of the best of yoga, tai chi, meditation and strength training), and I really noticed how important the transitions were between poses. Every move between moves was done really consciously and it made all the difference to the experience.

This word has come to mean a lot to me:

• We in transition to a new world, and towards a more sustainable society

• I really notice my state and where my attention is between activities e.g. between meditation, then exercise, then breakfast in the mornings. Or between leading a workshop then breaking for lunch.

My main learning so far has been about the intent and consciousness with which you move between one activity and another. It is so easy to turn off and be unconscious, losing all the goodness and focus of the previous activity. With meditation, this can be so extreme as to not take anything from the meditation into your daily life.

SO…?

The tone of this post is to offer and inquire, the posture in relationship to you as the reader is seeing if you want to walk alongside me in this inquiry, and the transition I am hoping is from a superficial understanding of travel, life and our collective journey to one that is more aware.

So, sorry, I have not concluding thoughts, perhaps just an expanded awareness in which the thoughts occur ; )

Leaving London parties

I had a few leaving events in the diary including a party, a dinner, halloween ‘march of the dead’ and critical mass cycle, and launch of Eastside Consulting’s Foundation. This last event was a real completion of a cycle for me, as my first role in London as an Eastside intern is what more people should have access to as a result of the Foundation’s programmes.

The Sunday afternoon party was aboard the good boat Yoghurt, moored on the Thames. The people who came along were remarkable in being a very large number of MSLS graduates, and a large number of people from Perth. Two quite different phases of my life coming together!

All went well, with the boat impressing many and providing the right mix of spaces for a party – kitchen, sewer-pipe-like sleeping tubes, and loungy area by the fire. Team photographer Rhys capture the evening beautifully, and there are some more images up on facebook or here.

I was grateful for the opportunity to add another few pizzas to the million target , and feel re-inspired about that project which aimed to start a movement of organic pizza baking and kitchen-table conversations about sustainability.

Alastair, one of the many professional facilitators on-board, convened a circle for everyone to offer me a ‘gift’ of advice, memory, wisdom or appreciation to help me on my way. After some sincere, encouraging and really humbling contributions, it fell to Andrew Wyber to have the last word.  I almost ran away as he started to talk on the subject of me vomiting in his car a decade ago.  But, he somehow managed to turn a story about me vomiting in his car, to one about my selflessness even when at my most drunk, incoherent and helpless as he described my efforts to wash the car with dozens of mouthfulls of water from a nearby raodside tap. A perfect way to end – ensuring that though feeling confident and supported on my trup, I would be encouraged to laugh at myself.

And, it is in that spirit that this blog will continue : )

The dinner  was at Bonnington’s cafe, with more of a work vibe. Bonnington’s does great, cheap food in large servings made by a different cook every night. The cafe is hidden behind Vauxhall station in a former squat. We played a bit of musical chairs to get everyone talking, and all reports suggest it was a great night.

Music: what have I been missing?

LL, UL, Fun Box

Music is quite incredible really, in the way it can affect your state of mind and lift your spirits. I really have not made time to listen to much music for a long time. During university I was so into it: punk, local gigs, and a lot of trance and plastic techno (and even some DrumnBass and Breaks)…taking photos and writing reviews of gigs, then dancing all night.

Then I stopped listening, mainly because (in the words of Custard) I preferred the silence not the sound. And that applied while studying, working, riding, weeding, travelling or whatever – always trying to concentrate on what I was doing ‘right now’, and what was really occuring around me. Perhaps, having proven I can concentrate and handle extended periods of silence, it is time to dive back into sensory overload and lose myself in the energy and vibrations rather than just observe them.

My forays into actually playing music consist of an interest in drumming, and the purchase of a thumb piano (which I absolutely love), maybe Capoeira and now…an interest in full-on dance (click in the centre). This type of energetic embrace of the rhythyms is a good ‘feminine’ ‘dynamic’ complement to the rather ‘masculine’ ’static’ forms of meditation like Vipassana and Zen. So, it is sure to open me up and stretch me in new ways. I will let you know how it goes!

Sort-or-related, I might try to purchase a new little radio to listen to BBC while commuting to keep up with the news, or download podcasts from ABC Radio National (simply brilliant programs like Background Briefing) or Triple J onto my pocket PC. One new infusion of music into my life has been the almost constant (starting at 7am) Rasta/Reggae beats virating up through the floor of Gabrielle’s house from the Caribbean crew downstairs. I think if I did not finished meditation before they turned on their tunes, it might disturb me more than it currently does!

While on the topic of cultural tunes, a new addition to the Triple J archives is a mix-tape of Swedish music, if you see that as a useful window that wonderful place and its people!

Rock.n.Roll

Straya Day in two feet of fluffy snow

Here’s out Oz Day Invite, don’t mind the snow. We are playing the Hottest 100, recorded into off the web broadcast using the free, open sources, streaming audio recording software: http://audacity.sourceforge.net/ (there are lots of other similar programs – some better, but most have time limits on how long you can record for unless you pay and register)

G’day cobbers,

Owzitgoinmaaaate? Guess you’ve all been flat out like a lizard drinkin’ and your mouths are dry as a dead dingo’s donger – we’ve got just the thing for youse! The only thing that could be better than a cold VB after a hard day’s work…is a whole slab of cold VBs and a fair-dinkum barbie to celebrate…

Australia (Straya) Day!

You may consider the first wadjella/balanda (white-fellas) to land on Oz shores bold adventurers, invaders, or simply scumbag convicts from pommyland (probably whinging the whole time to o), but whoever they were, this was the day they got their first taste of Australian beaches in ‘the lucky country’…and, met the locals who had otherwise been getting along just fine for the previous 50,000+ years.

An invitation to this shindig is attached, as is a dictionary to help you wade through the thick layering of ocker slang that will be flowing from our traps like amber at the pub. Feel free to pass this on to your other mates that ya reckon might be up for it.

Strewth, it’s bonzer to be celebrating the big day OS…even if we are a few lonely bastards stuck way out in woop woop, out the back o’ Bourke! At least there’s no blowies, and the weather will prevent us being confronted by the site of some flamin’ drongo in budgie-smugglers emerging from the local billabong. Bit disappointing that it’s not really the place for eskys or stubbie holders but I guess there’s no chance of ya bevvies gett in’ warm…and for the same reason you’ll have to rug up, ’cause it’ll be mostly an outside event!

Although some of youse may like to go hammer and tongs, as is the traditional way of celebrating, we are guests at the house. So, I trust that none of you will be narky bastards and start a kafufuffle, or get too maggoted – in any case there’s a good chance that we’ll rock on to the Rotundan, where you can cash in ya golden drinking vouchers.

I reckon that’s about it, so make sure you hop on your deadly treadly and come early to have a Captain and get a possie to chilax to watch the inevitable game of tip and run or two-up. No quokka soccer will be played, guaranteed (there’s none of ‘em within cooee anyway).

We’ll be supplying some grub (e.g. vego sausage rolls, damper and fairy bread) and softies as per the invite, and the tunes will be the best songs of the year thanks to our ‘Auntie’: www.abc.net.au/triplej/hottest100

The same ‘Auntie’ also offers a wonderful service that maps the slangof Australia, and will let you search for any words you can’t find in the attached dictionary: http://www.abc.net.au/wordmap/

Stoked – this should be a bloody ripper and we’re keen as mustard to see you there!

No wuckin furries,

Andy, Scotty, Richo and Charlotte
Be happy and well