Where does time go after we use it?

I got back to Australia late last week (Thursday 26 June). Then after two seconds – BAM! — it’s a week later (Friday 4 July). The week has vanished… lost somewhere in the space-time vortex.

I spent the first few days catching up with my parents and some school friends (Darrin, Afe, Brett). Then a few days in Brisbane catching up with Claire & the forest. And then back to the sunshine coast to watch the state of origin (great victory for Qld) and… and… and… then the week was over. Damn.

Life generally slows down (or time speeds up) for me in Australia. It’s like I have less time to work, less time to play and less time to relax. Strange. Maybe that’s why I like travelling?

But I’ll have to find time for my growing to-do list. Tax return (2007 & 2008). Updating my finances after the sale of my Canberra house. Trying to get a China visa (insh’allah). Preparing the next round of HCP students. The release of my latest paper on welfare reform. Writing a paper about HCP and/or company tax reform. Preparing for the Vanuatu holiday. Going to the “Supper club” dinner in Sydney. Starting a business in Cambodia. Pushing the LDP forward. Investigating gold trading. And hopefully find some to read a few books and have a few drinks with friends.

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Since my last post I’ve covered a lot of ground — McLeod Ganj, Amritsar, Dehli, Mumbai, Sunshine Coast.

We got the bus to Amritsar early last Wednesday (18 June). I hadn’t though of going to Amritsar, but Claire mentioned their famous Sikh “golden temple” so we decided to have a look. Great decision. Amritsar is my favourite city in India.

The golden temple is a huge complex of buildings surrounding a large pool which surrounds a gold-plated three-story temple. Indian locals & pilgrams wander around (or bath in) the pool and sleep on the ground in the temple area. Everybody is welcome to stay, sleep, shower and eat there for free. The restaurant serves up to 40,000 free meals a day… and the food isn’t too bad. Great idea. Every country should have a giant golden temple in the middle so that there is always a backup place to sleep, shower & eat.

The people were generally friendly and helpful. The city was as dirty and chaotic as any Indian city, but as it wasn’t a mega-city (only 1 million people) and wasn’t a western tourist trap (only a handful of white people) it felt like a more real Indian experience. And I enjoyed the Sikh people, history, culture and religion.

On one evening we went to the border town of Attari, which is famous for the closing of the border with Pakistan every evening — where the fancy-dressed border guards march up and down staring daggers at each other. It was a party atmosphere with Indians singing and dancing in the streets, waving flags and chanting something I couldn’t understand.

On Friday night (20 June) we started our journey back to Mumbai. We got the night bus to Dehli and spent a day looking around & shopping… then we got the night train (and bus, and train, and bus) to Mumbai, arriving late on Sunday (22 June). We didn’t like Dehli & Mumbai the first time around… but after a few weeks relaxing in the friendlier north and getting used to the “rules of India” (ie don’t trust anybody) we were better prepared and had a better time.

On Monday (23 June) Claire & I spent the day dancing in the background of a bollywood movie (Karzzz) and then went out for a few drinks with the other extras. On Tuesday we visited the rock carvings & cheeky monkeys at Elephanta island, and did some shopping. And then on Wednesday (25 June) it all came to an end.

Goodbye India. When I first arrived I didn’t like you. But now my views have softened. You have a lot of diversity, much to see, good food and interesting religious/historical stories.

After leaving Mumbai, Claire & I had a good day walking around the Rajastan town of Udaipur… famous for it’s palace “floating” in the lake, which hosted a James Bond movie. It seemed like a nice place and I would have liked to stay for a while… but after only one day we got another night bus to Dehli.

Dehli could be a nice city. Besides the crappy people we met… there is quite a bit to see. On Sunday (8 June) we walked around “old Dehli” and saw the Red Fort, a Jain temple & the largest Mosque in India. The next day (Monday 9 June) we walked around “new Dehli”… which was a totally different experience. Cleaner streets… less rubbish… more middle-class people… and KFC!

That night we caught an overnight bus up to north India and finally escaped the heat.

We spent the next four days (10-13 June) in the hill-town of Vashisht , near Manali. The main activity was relaxing. I tried out a hot-springs bath, walked around some rubbish-filled waterfalls, watched a bit of Euro ‘08 (go the mighty Dutch), sampled the food (including a pepperoni pizza with no pepperoni), drank lots of chai, read a few books (Afghanistan: A short history , by Martin Ewans and half of A World Transformed by George Bush & Brent Scowcroft) and met a few people. Unfortunately, Claire got sick so we decided against hiring a motorbike and doing the 4-day return ride to Leh.

Friday the 13th lived up to its reputation. Claire didn’t eat all day so she wouldn’t be too sick on the night bus. We were scheduled to arrive in Dharamsala at 4am.. which in India-time means about 6 or 7am. Instead, we had the bus-driver from hell screaming around tight corners on a narrow road perched on a cliff with no barriers and a 100m fall. The bumpy sleepless night ended when we were dropped in the wrong town at 2am. Bugger.

After a taxi ride to Dharamsala, Claire & I found a bench and waited for the sun. the next morning we found a bus and finally arrived in McLeod Ganj at about 10am. Phew.

The next four days (14-17 June) were spent relaxing in McLeod Ganj — the home of the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan govt in exile. After noticing the anti-China sentiments, Claire (who was feeling better) decided she should pretend to be from Singapore.

We explored some Tibetan temples and monuments, walked to nearby Bhagsu for shopping & a waterfall, watched the clouds as they swallowed the town & moutains… and then receded again, bought some hippy clothes, read some books (An autobiography of a Yogi by Michael Graham, The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and Catch-22 by Joseph Heller) and sampled the hash. I got the top of my left ear pierced, but I’m not sure whether I’ll keep it.

Vashisht (near Manali) and McLeod Ganj (near Dharamsala) were a big improvement over big-city India. Calmer, cooler, friendlier and more peaceful. We’re now recharged and ready to head back south…

The main thing I noticed when reading “Afghanistan: a short history of it’s people and politics” (by Martin Ewans) was how easy it is for people to talk themselves into thinking war is a good idea… while it rarely works out well. The three Anglo-Afghan wars, the Russian invasion and the civil war were all pointless and hugely costly failures to all involved. The jury is still out on the latest Afghan war.

While the area of Afghanistan played an important role for thousands of years of Asian history… it didn’t become a meaningful entity on it’s own until the 18th century. At the time, Afghan lands were shared between teh Safavid Empire (Iran) and the Mughal Empire (India/Pakistan). It was Ahmed Shah Durrani who first established an independent Afghanistan — which at one point included all of Pakistan and parts of India & Iran.

As a side point… during the Afghan military campaign in India they managed to defeat the Marathas (the largest power in India at the time) leading to a power vacuum in India, which was filled by the Sikhs and the British. If the Marathas had won, Indian history may have been very different.

In the 19th century Afghanistan wasn’t always a coherent state, but it played a role as a wild “buffer area” between the new Asian powers of Britain and Russia (who didn’t trust each other). The Brits invaded thrice but left with little change to the political situation (except growing anti-British sentiment). The Afghans started in the British sphere of influence, but moved more independent in the early 20th century.

After maintaining neautrality during the two World Wars (despite internal pressure to oppose Britain in both), a series of leaders successfully played the two Cold War powers off against each other and managed to bring about some limited development and modernisation. During the 1960s King Zahir even introduced a proper constitution and limited democracy. But then things went down hill…

In 1973, Daoud took over the country in a virtually bloodless coup and became President, ending the 226 year Durrani dynasty. He was supported by communists, but ended up ruling as a standard strong-man dictator… until the communists launched their own coup in 1978.

The Afghani communists lead such a rein of terror that the Soviets were embarassed and suggested moderation. The reforms so fundamentally challenged Afghani society that a war started that is still going on today. The conflict between murderous intolerant incompetent communists and murderous intolerant incompetent Islamists didn’t have a “good side”. But the Soviets were relatively more scared of the Islamists and the Americans were relatively more scared of the communists. The stage was set for a proxy war.

One interesting quote from the book about socialist land reform:

“It was not just the landowners who were embittered, but most rural Afghans believed that it was unjust and un-Islamic to accept property that had been expropriated from another”

At the end of 1979 the Afghani communists were doing such a bad job that the Soviets felt the need to go in and put in a less-bad communist leader. This has shades of a parallel with the Vietnamese invasion of Cambodia to put in a better communist. The Cambodia situation worked out well in the end. The Afghani situation didn’t.

The Russian invasion intensified the conflict, especially as Pakistan, Saudi Arabia and America gave increasing amounts of support to the Islamist “mujahidin”. The withdrawel of Soviet troops in 1989 was a major embarassment for the communists, but the Afghan (psuedo-) communists held on for another three years of civil war until the Islamists/traditionalists took over. It would have been better for Afghanistan for the increasingly-moderate “communists” to have stayed in power… but they had no support.

The Islamists were incompetent and violent, killing tens of thousands of innocent people while fighting each other. Rabbani & Massoud supposedly ruled the country, but Dostum, Hekmatyar (who bin Laden had previously fought with) and others retained power bases around the country. This riff-raff was finally cleared away in 1996 by an even more backward group — the Pakistani-backed Taliban — who hated women, beer, TV, kites, shaving, music, caged-birds and white socks. Freaks.

Massoud & Dostum (and others) continued to fight as the “northern alliance”, but the Taliban had 3/4 of the country. While this was a concern for the ex-Soviet states to the north (with Muslim minorities) and the Taliban hosted bin Laden (as a guest who had helped defeat the communists), it seems that they were not interested in expanding beyond Afghanistan. In contrast, they wanted to build a big wall around the country and shut out the world. But that changed on 11/9/01.

The Taliban was considering handing over bin Laden, but the US needed a war so it didn’t matter. With US (& friends) support, the northern alliance took over the country (minus Massoud, who had been killed) and the Taliban went to the hills to continue the fight. Today, the situation remains unstable and the future uncertain. 

Claire was recently pursued by another guy back in Australia (well… a few actually… but one in particular) and the situation raised a number of questions. First, what is the difference between “pursuing” and “stalking”? When is it “a person following their heart” and when does it become “an obsessed weirdo freaking out other people”?

But the main question is about the nature of love. The other guy said that I don’t love Claire because I am having fun around the world while she is missing me back in Australia. He said that if I really cared about her, I would feel too love-sick to travel.

I disagree.

But it did remind me of something. When I was younger I experienced love differently. I wanted to see the person all the time… or call them… or write to them… or write about them… or talk about them. Back then it was as if all emotions were more extreme — higher highs & lower lows. I used to secretly enjoy the emotional trauma and relationship dramas. I had passionate and (it seemed) important arguments. I was more romantic. I used to cry. And I would have struggled to be away from the person for long. It’s not like that now.

What happened? What changed? One explaination for the change could be that I am now more “emotionally mature”, and I think that’s certainly part of it. Perhaps another thing is that love is no longer a new idea. The excitement of all ideas fade with time. Maybe it’s just a matter of spare time… I don’t have the time/patience to be a drama queen anymore. All of these things suggest it’s an age thing.

Or has something more fundamental changed in me? If so — what? When did it happen? What caused it? Is it a good thing? Can it be changed back? I don’t know.

On the train from Varanasi to Mumbai I meditated. This is what I thought…

* Sha-ringai (my mantra, which I was given in Cambodia in 2006)
* I’ll feel good after this; I usually do
* The “others” in LOST weren’t the bad guys
* Wait a second… why did I think that?
* I didn’t choose to think that
* Actually… I don’t choose to think most of the things I think
* The thoughts just jump into my head
* I wonder where they come from?
* I’m not supposed to be thinking in meditation
* Sha-ringai… sha-ringai… sha-ringai
* But wait a second… this is interesting
* If I don’t choose my thoughts, what free will do I have?
* I guess I have the free will to stop the thoughts and look for new ones
* It’s limited, but it’s freedom… a “circuit breaker”
* I hope free will exists
* I wonder if my hope is clouding my judgement
* Sha-ringai… sha-ringai…
* This “no thinking in meditation” idea makes sense now
* Our free will is the freedom to reject thoughts
* “No thinking meditation” is training my free will
* It is increasing the relative role of free-will (v instinct) in my life
* It is training for my “soul” or “atman” (as the Hindu’s say)
* Which is the only part of us that is really “us”
* Sha-ringai… sha-ringai…
* That book (”the zahir”) was good
* I should blog about it
* The search for meaning is ongoing
* Once you stop searching, you lose whatever answers you found
* I don’t think/talk enough about meaningful stuff
* I should talk more about meaning, love, life, god, freedom, death, happiness
* What is love?
* ???
* Easier question… what causes happiness & unhappiness?
* The book said something about this… I should check it later
* I’d say happiness is “loving life”
* I wonder how happy most people are?
* Is it better not to think about life; just live it?
* Many people do; the book says “no”
* The book is right for me, but maybe not everybody
* I like the search for meaning
* I like newness… discovery… change… growth…
* Is it an absolute good, or is stability better for some?
* Sha-ringai… sha-ringai…
* The goodness of something diminishes if left the same
* …for me anyway (and the book)
* it said something like “empty yourself and make yourself a-new”
* It’s getting harder and harder for me to find newness in the world
* Sha-ringai is nourishing the atman… I like this idea
* It’s blood hot here
* But only for my body, not for the real me (the atman)
* That might be a good way to explain the atman-body dichotomy
* Does everybody notice their atman?
* When did it evolve?
* I don’t believe in sky-fairies… so where did it come from?
* Sha-ringai… sha-ringai
* I wonder who I could talk to about these things…

Sorry Jody, Ari, Sukrit, Jyoti… and any other Indian-ish friends, and all good Indian people out there… but India needs to work on it’s people-skills.

I have been to over 1/3rd of the countries on earth, and I have never had a worse first impression of a country. And second impression. And third impression.

To start with, it’s insanely hot. The bureaucracy is a nightmare. The transport is aweful. The open sewers/toilets, overflowing rubbish, persistent flies and rat problems don’t help. But this is all forgivable. The big negative so far has been the people.

It is simply not practical to believe anything an Indian says while travelling. I’m sure there are millions of good people out there, but the number of dodgy people is so high you have to remain eternally cautious.

When I got to Varanasi the rickshaw driver took us to the wrong places and lied about our destination. The hotels then lied about what they had and the prices. When I went for a walk I was abused by some guy insisting on a “donation” and then when somebody finally acted decently for a second… he ended up stalking me for 20 minutes trying various scams.

In Mumbai I was stalked by some drug-fucked guys for a while, ripped off by a taxi, and given the run-around at the airport. Bollywood was run with usual inefficiency, but also with the usual lies. We were constantly promised things that turned out to be simply untrue. If they told us the truth there would have been no problem (we didn’t expect much)… but they lied anyway. And our bollywood minder was an obnoxious rude prick. Later, some young guys ran the old “join us at a double-priced cafe” scam. I paid because I was going to give them some money anyway. They would have got more if they hadn’t done the scam.

In Dehli I discovered the added benefits of Indian sexism & racism… as I watched how they treated Claire (who is Chinese). Some kid hit her with a rock and then ran off. The locals didn’t seem to care. The other comments & attitudes were less violent, but no less annoying.

At one stage we got into a rickshaw and had a short conversation. The driver said that there were some dodgy people… but also some good people. He then proceeded to drive us a few km in the wrong direction and demanded more money or he would leave us there. We got out and walked.

My current hotel doesn’t have it’s promised internet. An Udaipur rickshaw driver tried to double charge. People have constantly given me the wrong directions or wrong information. A disproportionate number of people have been pushy, rude, angry and unhelpful. People stare. Few people want to help. And hardly anybody smiles. Combined with the worst beggars & touts in the world… and it’s hard to think how Indian could give a worse impression of it’s people.

But it’s not all bad.

I noticed that India was making me unusually angry, unhappy and distrustful, and so I forced myself to sit down and write about some of the good things. India has an interesting history, beautiful and diverse nature, grand monuments, tasty & cheap food, an interesting mix of religions & spirituality, colourful saris, curious customs of street-cows & head-wobbles, plenty of things to do and see and most importantly… cricket.

I’m glad that I’m here, and experiencing India. It has already been an intense, exhausting and educational week and I look forward to another two weeks of the journey. It’s just a pity about the people.

Go and read “The Zahir” by Paulo Coelho, and tell me what you think.

I picked up the book in a Varanasi guesthouse and read it on the train to Mumbai. And it made me think.

I don’t have enough conversations about meaninful topics — like the meaning of happiness and love… the nature of existence and life… and the importance of reason and emotions. I’ve tried to fix that lately, but it’s difficult to do without sounding like a flaky hippy mystic. It’s easier to do in writing.

I like thinking and talking about philospohy, life, the great unknown and “inner space”. I like being on a “spiritual journey for the meaning of life”. I am a “seeker”.

In the book “Siddharta” it was suggested that you need to stop seeking. I think the exact opposite. Most people don’t spend much time seeking. I think you should always seek, but realise that it’s the seeking that is important, and not the answers your find.

You might re-find the same answers. You might find different answers. You might find yourself answering different questions. You might not find any answer. It doesn’t matter. Keep looking.

My soul journey lately has been about the meaning and causes of happiness… which has brought me to question the relative merits of “stability” and “change”. Here is one section from “The Zahir” on the topic:

“…in order to live fully, it is necessary to be in constant movement; only then can each day be different from the last. When they passed through cities, the nomads would think: The poor people who live here, for them everthing is always the same. The people in the cities probably looked at the nomads and thought: Poor things, they have nowhere to live. The nomads had no past, only the present, and that is why they were always happy…” (note: He didn’t just mean traveling. He meant pursuing a life of change.)

That’s true for me. I’m a nomad. In Jerusalem I was the “god of instability” in our community pantheon. But is it an objective truth that change is better than stability? Or is it dependent on the person? I know some people (my mum, Jesse) who are very stable and I’m not sure they could or should ever give that up.

At the end of my stable years (chapter 4) I felt like there was something important missing in my life. I felt like life was slowing down to a repetitive cycle of work, coffee, mail, work, TV, pub, buy something, work… and it left me wanting more from life. I don’t know what. Just “more”. Then I escaped, and it was the best thing I’ve ever done. I like myself more now. I’m happier.

But is that just me? Would the same lifestyle change be good for everybody? Is it personality dependent? If my stable friends became “change-people” would they be happier or sadder? I don’t know the answer. Yet. But I’ll keep seeking.

This is a catch-up blog.

Kathmandu – Besides my fun’n'games with Indian visas (Tuesday & Friday) and buses (Saturday 31/05)… my most exciting moment in Kathmandu was getting electrocuted. It was a shocking experience. Oh… bad joke. But seriously, it freaked me out for a while until I realised I was still alive. Wednesday (28/05) was actually the day that Nepal officially changed from a monarchy to a republic, under the leadership of the Maoists. It was a bit strange to see people marching in the street with the communist hammer & sickle… but apparently they aren’t really communists any more anyway. They just like the name.

Varanasi –  After two sleepless nights on Thursday & Friday… I only had a few hours sleep on Saturday (31/5) night before being woken up for a morning tour of the river & city. Sunrise over the Ganges. I saw my first dead body, floating in the water. Bought a silk scarf. Later in the day I walked around town and watched the final of the Indian Premier League (cricket 20/20), which Rajastan (captained by Shane Warne) won on the last ball. Then on Monday I caught the overnight train to Mumbai.

Mumbai – The 30 hour train trip was better than the 28 hour bus trip because (1) it was only one train; and (2) it was possible to sleep. I arrived late on Tuesday (3/6) and dodged some of the most persistent and annoying touts on the planet. In the evening I went out to the airport to pick up Claire… and waited around for 4 hours outside their crappy airport because they won’t let you inside unless you have a ticket.

I got less than two hours sleep before being woken up and dragged the next day (Wed 4/6) to a Bollywood set to act as an extra. Good news because this was my main reason for coming to Mumbai. Bad news because I had to leave Claire alone in Mumbai on her first day travelling. Sorry Claire.

Bollywood is organised with typical Indian efficiency. Which means that I waited around for over 13 hours before they actually needed me, they dropped me home 7 hours late, and then under-paid me. But despite that, it was a fun five seconds of fame and I’m glad to tick it off my list.

Thursday (5/6) was our “Mumbai-day”… walking around town, getting lost, playing street cricket, dodging smack-heads and making travel plans. The plan ended up being a sleeper bus the next day (Fri 6/6) to the Rajastan town of Udaipur. Which is where I am now.