spring is coming......

RIP Michael Jackson

Nap time

Some of the press releases I have been given

Issued by the Sunni administration of the town of Eridil:

The ancient city of Eridil has had running water for the past 12 days.
We are requesting journalists to visit our city during our Ramadan festival to see our new fountain.
Please bring flashlights and/or generators.

This is good one from the Kurdish area:

The province of Katum is pleased to announce that the city center is now mostly free of mines.

This one is the best.

The provisional administration of the coalition base located on the outskirts of Tatorga is happy to announce that the McDonalds has expanded its hours of operation. The drive-thru window will be open from 10am-7pm. Please note that due to increased security customers will need to exit their vehicles and subject themselves to a search to pick up their orders. No Burqa's please.

How did I get here?

So much has happened in the last weeks and i would love to tell you.
However, so much more is happening right now.
I am in Iraq.
I am happy and relieved to finally arrive here and have a bed to sleep in. That should tell you alot about what I have been through lately, as even Iraq is better. I don't have Ebola. Of course, you say, but i could have gotten it as I took a 12 hour taxi ride from Kananga, to Kinshasa with a man who did not look well. He was pale. His skin was the color of coal but he was still pale, and coughing. He seemed to be coughing blood but what to do. I needed to get to the capital and to the airport. Enough of Africa. I got out of there with my health and still some money left.
Anyway here I am in Baghdad. My friends Janet and Hans are stationed here as representatives of a organization called CIVIC that helps civilian victims of war. They needed some help and I needed the flight out on their aid plane out of Kinshasa. Its very safe where I am in the green zone and there is even a starbucks. My room is in a construction trailer with the best A/C ever and full cable. My job is as a liaison to the Iraqi government press office. This means I go see Abdul Osrani and give him our press releases and have a coffee with him every day. He basically gets press releases from the U.S. and hands them out to journalists so everyone is handing eachother press releases and no one is reading any of it and i think it is all a waste of paper. At least some Iraqi printers are making a living.
So how did I end up in the Congo? Well the good people who smuggled me to safety out of Burkina Faso soon became my captors as I didn't read the fine print of our contract which stipulated that they were free to raise the price at anytime. And they did, in the middle of the night , in the middle of nowhere my saviors got very angry and demanded more money. I tried to negotiate but they were keen to my lack of leverage. I paid. I then paid some more. I then paid the money I had hidden.
And yes, it is possible to fall asleep on a camel in the middle of a hostage situation.

Something is happening.

So I woke up this morning to the phone ringing. It was Atumbo. He seems to really love me. So warm and friendly is he. Mr. Adam this and Mr. Adam that. He proudly tells me that the deal is all set and this will be just the beginning as I am now a personal friend of the President. Cool. Finally he gets to the point. He needs money. To protect the land title from a rival political group who have heard about the COLTAN. Uh oh. Between rival groups of sinewed and armed natives driving pick up trucks with machine guns mounted on the back. Yes, thats where I want to be.
I then suggest that maybe we should delay the deal till things quiet down. Like after the elections..or after the coup or the anti-coup or the re-coup or the merci beau-coup. Timeline unknown. What I was really saying was "im outta here!". He repeated his request for some money, $5000, I stalled for time and told him to meet me for lunch tommorow at the Kapisnki. He agreed. I hope I can get a flight out today. I have made several mistakes and have lost all in all around $25000. What to do? At least i'm alive.
I was on my way to the hotels travel agent to book a flight when that spooky guy Paul passed me and this time he turned around and said "hey, Adam good to see you." He suggested we get a coffee and we went into the restaraunt. After some chit chat he tells me that there is alot of instability right now. I asked flatly "Who do you work for?" He says that he in the "private sector but with a government contract". I assume he is with Blackwell or Stategic resources Inc. one of those mercenary sub-contractor multi-nationals. I tell him what I have been doing and he says he has heard and that "everyone knows about the coltan and that it is very dangerous for you right now as both sides think you are more than you are". He tells me that the "opposition" is convinced that I work for the Saudi's. I asked him where did they get that idea and he shrugged. A shrug like he knew but couldnt say. As he left his parting advice was " Maybe your leaving Burkina Faso is a good idea".
I agree. Right now I am waiting for the travel agent to come back from lunch and then hopefully I can get a flight tonight.

The Palace Please

Yes it rolled out of my mouth as I entered the taxi. The driver seemed to love hearing it. I loved saying it.
Off we went. After a 15 minute drive through the worlds worst slum or was it the through Burkina Faso's finest neighborhoods? I couldn't tell. As we came up to the gate the guards were dressed in a pompous and silly costumes that would have brought loads of laughs except for their AK-47's cradled in their multi-color peacock like uniforms. As a white man there is always an element of deference in Africa. So all I said at the gate is "the President is expecting me". They saluted and I went in. A functionary was there to meet me and showed me inside to a changing room where I can put on the local dress I bought last night at the night bazaar, more like the night bizarre as there was nothing for sale except some grain bags that said " a gift of the people of the United States of America". The outfit I bought was reccomended as perfect for a palace reception. It was 6 different colors, all bad. Happily there is NO picture. So I entered the grand reception hall looking like Enrico Caruso doing Pagliacci. After 20 minutes sweating and waiting, in strolled the man himself. He was in Armani it seemed. I felt ridiculous. After 10 minutes of small talk about Boston, where his kids go to school, Harvard of course, he asked me about my plans. I rattled on nervously about my great plans for the land and its coltan removal (a metal used in cell phones and found only in Africa) followed by a mixed development of offices and storefronts and I hope anchored by Burkina Faso's first Starbucks. He seemed impressed and I felt that this man was on MY side. I hoped the meeting would end soon before I said the wrong thing....as usual.
I was on my way out of the palace feeling giddy and confused as to what just happened, when a man approached me and said " the President is very impressed with you and would like to suggest that you consider investing in a private project of the Presidents which details will be forthcoming". I left the palace to find my taxi driver still waiting and he beemingly opened the door for me. I returned to my hotel and am writing this before considering my dinner options. The choices being bad, worse or really bad. I think I'll choose the really bad.

I woke up at noon with a bad headache and strange woman

I hoped she was the cleaning lady. I hadn't seen her before but there she was in my room acting like she belonged there. Attractive she was not. She did open up the the balcony doors and let the steamy heat ooze over me. Yes it was HOT very Hot. She was the cleaning lady. She was making the bed as I went into the shower. After breakfast of stompo ( a fish filled pastry) and coffee I took a taxi to the US embassy to ask a few questions.
The commercial attaches name was Annette Funora and of course she was from the Bronx. We talked pizza and Yankees for a few minutes..mostly pizza. I think this country needs pizza actually...maybe that's my calling. Well Annette told me that dealing with property was relatively straight forward compared with the rest of the continent but that I should be careful of a few local legal issues. There are 3 titles for owning land. One is the national title, the 2nd one is the tribal title and the 3rd is issued by the neighborhood religious leader. The last title is the most difficult and the most important as it is a clearance that the spirit ghosts have not taken up residence on your land. Basically you need to pay around $200 donation to the what seems like a church/clubhouse/bar. With that clear I left to get some lunch and go back and take a nap. As I was leaving I saw Paul the guy from yesterdays party coming in. He seemed to have something serious on his mind and didn't even notice me. Strange as we had spent 12 hours together only yesterday. Off to Lunch. I had some more local food. A glass of ooroga, a coconut milk and coffee mixture that some people make at home as a fermented drink but can be drunk non fermented. A rice and beans mixture with a piece of pork fat (I hope it was pork fat) and a thick stew of mixed vegetables and fish tails. I ate it. That's my food review. I am back at my hotel now and i am exhausted. Time to read the ny times i downloaded and take a nap. Tomorow I go to the palace. I must go out later and get some local clothes as local dress is requested for non formal palace meetings.

The party

At 10am Momoga sent his driver for me. The car was already filled with Jayapal, an Indian businessman, Paul who says he works for an NGO but I think works for the US embassy, Armin, a German Doctor and Diane who works for AMFAR (a relief agency) and off we went. I didnt know it but we were off on a 4 hour ride to Momoga's home village deep in the back country. The road was very bumpy and we were delayed for an hour because of a protest by some farmers who were upset because a government car had run over some of their livestock earlier in the day. Later I found out that it was the Presidents entourage's vehicle that had done the damage. We arrived at a seemingly ramshackle village only to pull up to a ornate tall steel gate and a formally dressed guard came out of a guard house saluted us as the gate opened for us. The driver parked the car along side around a dozen newer vehicles mostly German but a few American cars too. We then entered the house thru a large wooden carved door thru a reception hallway out to the back yard to what looked like a typical hotel party set up around a very large pool with uniformed servers and a well stocked bar. There was around 80 people mulling about and around 10 security people off to one side. A man came up to us and introduced himself to us as Mr. Sokura and he welcomed us and suggested we get some drinks. Yes was the general consensus and we headed to the bar. It was mostly Africans and us the token westerners. After several drinks Momoga showed up with a beaming smile and a big hug and brought me inside the house to meet someone "special". The President knew my name. Yes I am a celebrity whore and my ass kissing began immediately. "Oh, I love your country." and "Momoga has told me how great of a leader you are.", well it went over very well and he invited me to come see him at the palace on tuesday. I accepted. Momoga told me that I was very lucky and a invitation to the palace was very special. I guess the $1500 payment really was well received. After a while the President and his entourage left and people started to relax and drink more....much more. It turned into a drunken bacchanal. The food was decent, the vodka was cold and my new friends were funny. Jayapal fell into the pool and was extremely embarassed as he couldnt swim. Neither could anybody else it seemed till Diane jumped in and saved him. Indians cannot hold their liquor it seems. At midnite we all got back in the car and instantly I fell asleep only to wake up around 4am as we arrived at the hotel. Right now I feel like crap and Im going to sleep.

Taking it easy today..

So I spent most of the day in my new room at the Flora del Mar guest house, its 5 minutes walk to the Kapinski hotel where I just returned from having some drinks at the bar with some friends I made. My new room has a great view and an actual breeze when all the windows and doors are open. The room is clean and has room service and some cute backpackers down the hall who like my music.
The guys I met at the bar gave me the low down on the local politics. The President, Blaise Compaoré, is relatively stable after surviving a coup a few years ago. He is incredibly corrupt but in a honest way. "When he is bribed he stays bribed" ahh maybe my $1500 will be a good investment. I am a little star struck because my NBF (New best friend Momoga) is going to introduce me to him at a coming of age party for his daughter on saturday.
Well I must go because they are about to turn off the generator.

I am ill.

Well, dinner was an experience.
Who knew that Burkina Fasoans ate lasagna.
It looked like lasagna. It didn't smell like lasagna. It surely didn't taste like lasagna.
It was meatless. It was also vegetableless. Unfortunately it wasnt tasteless.
I ate, I swallowed and I just finished throwing it up.
Before the food I was having a nice time. I was introduced to the whole Momoga family.
Either he has alot of daughters or a lot of wives but my impression was that he might not care which was which.
He served me a whiskey and we toasted to our future project. His connection to the President he stressed was very good for business. He suggested that a payment of $1500 would smooth all the title and legal issues.
Before I said yes the food arrived.

My 2nd day...

My new best friend Atumbo (thats him on the right) has invited me to dinner at his family compound in Mabilisi a suburb 30 kilometers from here. I have accepted. Before I get ready to go let me talk about the day so far.

1) There are incredible opportunities here and I have come at the right time.

2) I have met the right people. Atumbo is related to the President and is part of his tribe.

3) I will switch hotels and move to a guest house in the morning.

4) I am researching coltan as it seems that the property I am going to see has alot of it underground. I am interested in this particular property for its location near the new airport but I like that it has residual value.

5) I met some of those journalists I met on the plane and will go visit them tomorrow night at their hotel bar.

6) It is 5pm here and its 130 degrees.

From the couch to the floor.

I finally arrived at Diebougou, Burkina Faso's International Airport, I wouldnt exactly call it an airport more like a long parking lot with homeless people wandering about. At 2nd look the homeless people are actually the guards or army....They have weapons and they seem to be looking for a reason to use them.. Since the plane was late and the curfew was still on we had to stay overnight in the terminal. They gave us small airplane blankets that were very old..How old? Well the Braniff Airlines logo kind of gave me an idea of the age...and it seems when they were last washed. My floor mate had a blanket with Peoples Express printed all over it. They then came by and served us brown liquid that I thought was weak coffee but was really just water. After a sleepless and frigid night the sun came up and at 6:30am it must have been 120 degree's. Off we went in a caravan of broken buses to the hotels of our choice. The first stop was the 5 star hotel and out went a few journalists and aid workers that I met on the plane. Those aid workers seem to travel first class. After 3 stops I was unloaded at the Burkina Inn, a place I found on the internet, they seem to still be waiting for that elusive star and by my guess it aint comin. The room was passable especially after 32 hours of travel. SFO - London - Angola - Ghana - Burkina Faso. I slept for 12 hours to wake up to a very large bug or very small rodent crawling up my leg..no problem.... Curfew was back on again so i couldnt wander around unless I wanted to be shot, extorted or both, so I stayed in my room and watched what seemed like Burkina Faso Idol or something,..I couldnt even decipher what language they were speaking...It could have been a government spokesman telling the masses to rise up and kill all foreigners. Either way it was a catchy tune. At this point I was starving. The restaurant at the hotel had eggs so I thought it being the safest bet it would be my dinner. Actually they were quite good. They seem to be speaking french here also so maybe that has had a culinary influence.
Tomorrow I meet with Mr. Atumbo Momoga, the real estate guy I found online who inspired me to come in the first place. We shall see what he can show me and I will also meet with a lawyer to check about ownership and titles etc etc...Its fun to finally be out in the real world looking at real possibilities!!!
I am posting this from the hotels "business assist center" where I have finally been reunited with that 9600 baud modem I threw out in 1990.
I will keep you all informed!!

xo

So the new "era" begins....

I have been offered 1-2 million dollars for purchasing a business. I am now searching high and low for the right one....
Any suggestions are welcome but obviously not expected due to the fact that even though i have hundreds of visitors to my blog I receive very few suggestions....
So please.......

I found a new business.

I purchased a dental office and I am off to save the teeth of the world...

No suggestions

Well here it is the test of friendship...
I need suggestions...
Really.

Restaurant Review: Viva Goa

Viva Goa ia a long-standing restaurant originally for locals as it is open all year round.
A few nights ago Veda (an English friend) and I ventured forth and this is our experience.

Both versions are true:

A quaint roadside bistro serving fine seafood, meats and a full bar.
A noisy trashed out hellhole serving rotten fish and rancid meat with a full bar of bad Indian hooch.

The service is excellent with the anticipatory staff catering to your every whim.
Desperate poverty stricken runners who after a nice tip will drop all other customers and ask you for a 12th time "another beer, Sir?”

The efficient staff takes your order after recommending some of the chef’s famous dishes.
The complete Idiot of a waiter who after 5 times still cant remember your order and insists on my need for the prawns that are probably 2 weeks old and stored in a refrigerator that has about 3 hours of power a day.

After several local micro-brew beers we settle on chili fry squid, vegetable makanwala, palak paneer, jeera rice, a butter nan and a garlic nan.
After 3 beers from a local distillery that most likely uses contaminated water and extensive worker urine we muster up the courage to order.

The open seating introduces us to several pleasant European travelers.
The open seating burdens us with 2 large British subjects who insist on filling us in on their love for soccer and themselves, one of them being his wife who is feigning complete deafness and I think we should do the same.

Then the food arrives...
The chili fry squid looks fabulous. Succulent, perfectly cooked squids in a dark, leafy sauce that tastes like a something indescribable. The veggie makanwala is a jumble of well-cooked onions, carrots, and green beans in a creamy tomato base with a hint of spice and slightly sweet complexion. The palak paneer is a fresh mix of ground spinach with a perfectly textured paneer, a slight hotness that is subtle yet expressive. The Jeera rice is cumin seeded, slightly fried rice with finely separated grains. The nans are perfectly cooked in an obviously traditional tandoor with a perfect crispness and a slightly doughy refrain. All together the symphony of tastes and sensations make we wish I was nowhere else on earth.

Thrown at us the dishes spill over on to the already filthy table, the still wet with typhoid water empty plates and utensils are also seemingly dropped from the sky. First up was the mysterious chili fry, which contains unknown leafs and onion peels and is so overcooked that I am happily sure there is nothing living in it. The Veggie whatever is itself a halloween movie with cooked to oblivion "things" that I must assume are vegetables, the decidedly scary oil has risen to the top and the bottom and middle also, in fact this dish would power a northern Californian’s bio-diesel vehicle for several months...The taste? Who knows as I am just trying to hold it down before I drown. And now to the palak paneer, green it is no doubt. Spinach? Good question. I am assuming it is. The paneer is a very well textured (lets say tough) cube that most likely was holding the door open just a few minutes ago. The jeera rice has many specks of cumin and other unknown ingredients which each grain in its separate world most likely from it being dropped on the floor and then swept up back onto the plate before arriving sheepishly onto our table. The nans arrived burnt on the edges as if cooked with butane lighter. Edible, yes I guess one could optimistically say that.

With the meal over, I venture into the kitchen to meet the chefs. They are a well-organized team of professionals with years of training and hygienic intentions. I thank them and bid them adieu fondly dreaming of my next visit.

With the meal endured I venture into the kitchen to see who is responsible for this nightmare. I find 6 guys in a fluorescently dimmed small cell of a non-ventilated pit of a disgusting room where they most likely sleep and live for months at a time. I look around gagging on the filth and look forward to what my stomach will be saying shortly. A last look at the rest rooms finds me doubled over in prayer. As I retched I noticed that yes, I was pointing towards Mecca.

hi

So the uploading is on hold till i find a reliable internet place...spent 1 hour yesterday trying...
today I am going to Ashvem...we pronounce it Aushvem cause of the israeli vibe there. There are also alot of russians there..they dress the hippie part but somehow i dont think the 60's peace and love revolution made it to moscow...but its nice having people around that are paler then me...

I apologize for the lack of exciting and riveting blog that you all are expecting from me...
its coming.....
xoo

just some pics..

Not much to say today except I was almost run over by a cow and a car..and a pig.
having trouble uploading pics...if you want them just email me and ill send them...

XO

what day is it??

I have no idea..
I have been driving around alot on my motorcycle..
Hanging around the beach and getting tan...when i find a decnt internet place ill upload some pictures...
India may really suck but its also the best place on earth...
It is simple here and it feels good day to day...
xooo

day...dont know...

ahh relaxing...getting into the rhythms of goa…wake up around 5:30am as the locals, dogs and birds star to stir….then I rest a bit till 7 and get out of bed..Open the house up and put the coffee on..Salvador then comes over and today I made fruit salad and we sat and laughed a bit and now its 10 and I am gonna go out to the internet place to post this and then go shopping for muesli, curd and a few things….then to the beach for a swim and lunch at a beach shack…usually fish curry and rice with a fresh lime soda…then back to the house for a get out of the sun reading and maybe a nap…

then we shall see….im already losing track of which day it is…

Day 6 ish…

Last night sal and Karar and I went to club cubana…up high on a hill a converted house is now a expensive night club…one of Sals horde of women is a teaching brazilian dancing there once a week and we are on the guest list..but….we must dance in exchange..I hate samba!!!!! So we got a bit drunk and I danced badly and then we all got on our motorcycles and drove home…..CHECKPOINT!!!! yes a police checkpoint…..Sal was first…we of course drove around them ignoring there pleas to STOP!!! Well its kind of a charade at these extortion stops…they ask for papers, no matter what papers you have its not the right papers…if they ask for the ppc paper and you have it then they want to noc document..they grab the keys and get all nasty like…then the negotiating begins they threaten to take the bike.. then they ask for the fine of 1000 ruppee’s ($22) after endless haggling sal pays 500 …sucker…the standard fee is 100….some people go throught all the hassle of getting every paper you might need but the trick is to put 100 in each pocket and the rest in a hidden pocket and say this is all you have and in a emergencey pull out the other 100…

But if the cops are drunk and in a foul mood then you’re a bit fucked….

day ..whatever...

Here in Goa, India...got a cute little house with a cute little kitchen 50 yards from the beach in a touristy part but on the nicest area to swim...nice body surfing waves and easy beach shack eating.. its quieter here..quieter meaning its loud and i need earplugs like ALL of India but I dont hear thumping techno all night..
went to chappora last night which is a town i used to hang out in 28 years ago...it still has the same vibe of chillum smokers, eurodrunks and wanna be junkies a bit surly....if you are looking for the guy who stole money from you 15 years ago and dissapeard and if he stole less then $3,000 then most likely he is in chappora. . I went there to get a motorcycle and a souvlaki....
now i got my bike and i am mobile...
Now Sal and me are having our morning coffee on the porch and I am about to cut the papaya and pineapple...rough life....of course i did spend 15 minutes mind fucking about taxes this morning...
here are some pics of my little house and my new cat...

day 3.5

bangkok for 2 days was like 1/2 a day because of the rag..but just the warmth and the food and being alone was great...i hung out with a war photographer from amnesty international and a real estate guy named leon from oroville,ca and Drew( a guy i think i met before)..meeting strangers and connecting and laughing together is for me really rejuvenating.

sat morn i got a airport van and headed to the new airport..they have strange rules for the transport vans so to avid a fee of some kind he took us thru a maze of garages and then opend the door and grunted...i had no idea where i was but around a corner and everything was fine...very nice new place with helpful english speaking people there to guide you...i checked in my luggage to Indian airlines and then i went to find some food..i had heard that there was a place in the basement where the staff/workers ate so i went to find it...no problem i was the only westerner there and it was lined with 20 different food stalls with local prices and i spent 30 minutes looking ateverything before deciding which...fucking great food..had crsipy pork over rice w/ a nice sweet sauce with a a bit of soup for 50 baht..$1.35..I would have paid $13 for this in the west and it wouldnt have tasted as good...
i wish marin at a place like this..i would live there..breakfast /lunch and dinner...
here are some pictures of the choices...

then off to mumbai on a old airbus of dubious safety..i have a basic problem is that i listen to the plane like im listening to a quality used car rental and this is not good..any non consisitent noise or rattle or bang and im praying....but i gave up after a while and settled in to some excellent chicken tikka and some freindly hindudes...
my name was waiting at the arrival hall and off we went to a hellish in construction windowless nightmare of a disgusting hole in the wall hell of a shithole. slept 5 hours and turned on the tv to 95 channels of 99 guru's and exercize machine sellars in 12 dialects of scandal news and some wonderfully old indian movies with great msuic. there is so much disenfectant/moth balls/bug spray in here that i dont have to worry about anything living in here at all..if i stayed 2 days i also would not be alive...but im off to goa in the morning......

me with jet rag

day 2 bangkok

i just ate a locust.
Dont ask...
cooked in garlic...
ick

Day one..

This is my first blog entry.
Now I need a break.
Back to the couch.