1983 (Part Two) Mind the Gape

It was mid-afternoon when we entered the nearly deserted pub/sandwich bar. We ordered something vegetarian (probably cheese and cucumber sandwiches) and pints of beer (because we could there).

Some old guys, probably in their 20's flirted with us until they found out that we were 17 and 14. I was old enough for them but Debbie was "jail bait" and they quickly left without a good-day or a good-bye.

A young man, about my age, sat at the table behind my sister writing in a journal and quietly laughed. He was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen and it was all I could do not to gape at him.

We ordered and drank more beers and Debbie started to loosen up and forget that she desperately wanted to go home.

Then, an old Scottish man approached our table with a writing pad and a thick brogue that was even harder to understand through his slur. He sat himself right down with us and began to show us, through numerology, that he was the re-incarnation of Elvis Presley's twin brother Jessie who had died at birth.

The laughs from the young man got louder as he overheard the strange rantings coming from our table. He called out "Are you from The States?". Yes. "Are you from California?". Yes. "Are you from Sacramento?". Yes, how did you know? "I am into dialects and accents, besides, I'm also from Sacramento". Wow, what were the chances that the first person, besides pervs and lunatics, that we would meet in London would be from our hometown?

He asked if he could join us and we said as calmly as possible, yes. Really it was-Hell yeah, been trying to figure out how to talk to you since I first laid eyes on your beautiful face. He sat down with the three of us, we made our introductions and were quickly reminded of the diatribe of the Scotsman, he had only just begun.

We drank more beer and found the old guy amusing enough to let him ramble. His notepad looked ancient and was covered completely in various inks and pencil with no more room for calculations. We offered that his basic premise, numerology, had flaws. He would hear nothing but himself. He wasn't looking for interaction, he just needed to be heard.

"But, if Elvis was 42 when he died and his twin would also have been the same age if he'd lived then you would have to be 48.". The man was clearly over 70. His explanation of that paradox, unfortunately, brought us to another subject- time/space continuum stuff. Shit, more numbers, more equations!

Eventually, we left to find a more appropriate place to get to know each other that involved more beer and no "Jessie".

1983 (Part One) London Calling, Sister Crying

We met him at a pub in the Bayswater area of London. After a day of crying and pleading to go home I finally convinced her that if she wanted anything to eat she was going to have to leave the b & b as I had no intentions of bringing anything back for her.

We had waved good bye to our mother the day before as we left in a cab with the rain falling hard and the realization that we were on our own began to sink in. We were ill-prepared for easy travel as we had packed but just one "bag" between us, an enormous, cow-hide trunk we had purchased in India 3 years before that was better suited for ship travel in the 1800's. Eventually, both handles broke off and a cheap set of wheels were used to haul the monster over cobble-stone streets and curbs and elicited much unwanted attention.

We had taken turns knocking on doors (the one on the sidewalk with the luggage got to hold the only umbrella) until we found a tiny, inexpensive room in the attic of a Victorian row-house. A hand on each handle, we lugged the behemoth up the narrow flights of stairs into our new quarters. Debbie begged to go home but I had saved up all year and wasn't about to let fear take over. I was scared, too, but had to play brave, big-sister. We had been out of the country with our folks many times, as my mother was an international flight attendant and the fares were cheap. But, this was different. Frightening and Exhilarating, Freedom and Adventure.

Hunger struck Debbie after a day and a night of languishing in the room and I suggested we go to a sandwich bar I had seen in my roamings. The decision to eat there would change our lives. Was it fate? I know it was.

Oh You Pretty Things

Look out at your Children

See their faces in Golden Rays

Don't kid yourself they Belong to you

Their the Start of the Coming Race

Snail Sex

Looking at my lovely, unknown garden volunteers-perhaps melons, perhaps gourds, perhaps squash, I saw two snails sitting atop a large specimen. I grabbed one with the intention of pitching them both over the fence into my neighbors backyard. I know, they will come back but I don't have the heart to drown them or dessicate them with salt. Plus, my neighbor doesn't tend his yard and I don't much care for him anyway.

The two were attached via some strange, white protrusions and I pulled them and pulled them and the slimy bits got longer and longer. A shudder and nausia went thru me when I realized what they were doing. I knew that snails were hermaphrodites but didn't know how the whole thing worked, I had to look it up. It turns out that their sex organs are near their heads and they have both innies and outies.

Yuck! They could have at least waited for the cover of darkness instead of making a big show of it!

Flamenco Friday

The Family

My brother, his wife and two lovely girls are in town. We had stuffed bell peppers (mine vegan) and salad at our Ma's house.

It's hard to see the girls growing up but they are doing it nicely. Their parents are wonderful role-models and so supportive of their endeavors.

Sometimes, I think they think me to be strange as their life is so much different than mine, but I feel nothing but love and acceptance from them.

It's nice to have "children" in the family. My sister and I have only furry ones and there is something comforting about the continuation of family.

Many Years Ago and Far Far Away

Nearly 20 years ago I set upon a journey around the world. About 2 weeks before take-off, my traveling companion backed out leaving me on my own. I had traveled by myself many times before but never to so many places and for so long.

After spending a couple of months in Europe I flew to Pakistan where I stayed with friends in Lahore. Then, via death-deifying planes and buses, made my way up the Karakorum mountains to the border of China. Saw some amazing places, stayed in remote villages and was welcomed by such open-hearted, warm, and giving people. I also nearly died in Swat. If it weren't for an ancient man making me tea from some mountain flowers he picked, I would have never made it.

I met some great folks in Islamabad where I was staying at a tourist camp. Most of the travelers were overlanders who had come from Europe via motorcycles, Land Rovers, buses, and even bicycles. I was the only one traveling solo and without my own mode of transportation. I stayed in one of the simple, concrete building filled with graffiti. I had a sleeping bag and shared the room with Evert-Jan from Amsterdam who was cycling around the world.

It was really nice being around others as I had traveled alone for so long.

We were all in Islamabad trying to get visas for India but there was serious political shit going on and we were stuck there for weeks. Embassy's and consulates were shut down, bridges were blown up and Marshall law was enacted.

Despite being in a potentially dangerous and difficult situation, I was incredibly happy there. The people in the camp were such interesting characters and I became very close to many of them. We would take a cab most nights to the various foreign clubs and drink and talk and play pool. Then we would go back to our new home and make a large fire and stay up late talking more. During daylight, the locals would stand at the fence and stare at us for hours as if we were some strange and rare animals held captive in our little oasis.

Eventually things calmed down and we all went our separate ways and some of us made plans to meet up in India, and we did.

Things got bad back in Lahore. I drank too much home-made wine, offered to marry my host's son Humayun to get him a green card, he got possessive and difficult, I had to leave and clear my head.

I had been invited to join an English guy I had met at camp to travel with him on his motorbike in India. I had traveled on Indian trains before, I wasn't looking forward to it. Hell, yeah, I was on board!

That is how Andrew and I met and have been in each others lives since. I was mad at my friend for flaking on me in the beginning but soon realized that traveling solo has it's benefits! After many months in India I headed back to Pakistan to break someones' heart. Really, many someones' hearts as I had become very close to the family in Lahore over the years. I don't think that they have ever really forgiven me but they will always be in my heart.

I am grateful that I was able to really experience Pakistan before things got bad. I hope to go back someday and find that that beautiful country has managed to vanquish the hate and fear that it is suffering with.