There is now a rockwall on the side of my house. Go check it out.


Update 6/19/08: Insurance carrier dropped me. Please don't set my house alight.

I picked the spot on the map due to the curvaceous nature of the roads, and the abundance of water and trees in the area, on Google maps. I picked the restaurant by entering "breakfast" and "San Augustine" into Google local. But when i showed up at the intersection called San Augustine it was more magical than any product of Google could ever be, with the possible exception of Google spreadsheets.

I was met by a man John Doe, no really, that was his name. He saw my bike and took it upon himself to show me all the best trails to get it dirty on. what a magical town, you show up and they provide the fun. I went across the street to the "breakfast" spot in San Augustine, Happy Donuts, and ordered a croissant a Blueberry Donut, Bear Claw and a Gatorade. I was amazed when the lady told me i owed her $3.50, since thats practically what a single Gatorade would cost in Houston.

Ben showed up three decades later, and was struck by the same phenomenon. However more welcome than the low prices was John Does return, this time he got a Blueberry donut (good taste!) and wanted to offer us a place to stay. However all he had to offer was a lake front paradise complete with hand made dock. Only catch was we had to go NOW. Donuts digesting, we hit the road. John made his 3/4 ton pickup scream down the road giving us plenty of room to wind out the twisties. We lost sight of him when we started into the forest, but he would always appear on the other side of a corner for just long enough to make sure we were still in tow. He stopped the truck and grabbed a Motorcycle out of a shed on the road, and the chase continued.

After showing us to his little slice of heaven tucked away in the heart of the national forest, John decided a little Dirt was in order. So we cruised the "infamous" 9-mile road through the Mud and trees. the mud puddles required certain tiptoeing to insure you stayed clean, but after awhile i had had enough of that and flew headlong into them. It was going alright, dirty, but alright. We didn't stop rolling till dusk when we set up camp on the shores of the lake/river/Resevoir/creek whatever they want to call it, i'll call it fun.

The next day we set our own pace and had a blast, did some real fun paved rollers. we spent the day exploring the area and found some great gems, we woke at 8am and didnt get out of the saddle till that night. Biiig day. If you want to see what ground we covered i created a little Google Homage to our trip there.

As i was riding home i thought to myself what a wonderful trip, it had its scary moments but all in all we came out bruised and battered, but with a feeling of real accomplishment. For all the bent brake levers and bruises the bikes held up magnificen...t...Oh crap. My bike started chugging down as i crossed into he city of Houston's Limits. Flogging the go-juice i attempted to breathe life into my failing stallion. But despite my best efforts it died, at 60 mph on US 59. Hoping for the best i instinctilvy hit the starter switch, and was greeting with the purr of the engine, that quickly turned into a chortle as it struggled, coughing and sputtering to get me off the Freeway. Ont he feeder road, i was thinking, i am close enough, i can ride this beast through town flogging it and sputtering all the way home. The bike disagreed as it sputtered one last time dying here
. Long after dismantling my bike and trying to figure out the mysteries of its illness I made my one phone call, the call i had been saving since my phone threatened to shut off a day ago. Dad Help! Within a few hours i was back at home sobbing, i had a fallen soldier in the back of the pickup truck, so undignified.

On a side note, while iw as waiting by the side of the road for those few hours, not a single sole stopped out of the thousands that passed by in cars or even bikes, but a lone bicycler peddled up and let me make a follow up call on his phone. When we were by the roadside in the Piney Woods, the first car that passed us would stop, so would the second and third. It truly is a different world out there.

There are 26 separate items of moose in this condo. From a set of coasters, (one moose count for the set) to light fixtures, on to curtains and pictures. There is a lot of moose up in here. We didnt even notice it ourselves, Jesse's girl pointed out( and counted) the sheer abundance of moose in here.

Itemized Update:
Moose Curtains
Moose Coasters x2(two sets)
Moose Pictures x6
Moose Signs x4
Moose Light fixtures x 4 (1 lamp, 3 wrought iron fixtures)
Moose 2 foot tall Dolls x2
Moose Curtain Rod
Moose Bed Spread x 2
Moose Coat Rack
Moose Throw Rug
Moose Soap Dish

Our mission to exchange the projector went alright. They accepted it, but they didn't have any good projectors so we were stuck with the biggest crappiest most expensive piece of junk, the Epson Movie Mate. In town we also picked up a Speakman Anystream Showerhead. When we walked into the best buy Tyler asked for it by name and model number. Can you imagine a shower head so impressive you knew its name and model number? With the product in hand tyler explains its greatest feature, its hackable. You can hack the shower head by removing its water restrictor and getting the full force out of your shower turned Niagra Falls. Fabulous.

We drove off into the recent cold front at 11pm Houston time. It took us some time to get though the tough weather, the whole trip lasted about 20 hours. But we stayed safe, crawling through snow storms and ice fields. In fact one car flashed us, and we immediately looked for a cop and we spotted a couple of cars upside down on the side of the road, as i reached for my camera our own car started drifting towards the turtle-like display. Then violently snapped back the other way as Adam fought to keep us from plowing into them, we then sailed off the other side before the snow slowed us down and we got back on path, disaster averted. I had my own close call, i missed our turn and went into a snow bank, knocking out a newspaper machine, some people standing around cheered us on, declaring they didn't like that paper anyway.

We burnt out the projector last night, should have brought that spare. Going to exchange it in Denver in 15min as soon as Adam gets out of his 3rd shower of the day.

In my mind Kenya is a land divided by two sentiments. Two forces that I cannot seem to separate. On one side there are endless smiles that are broken only for laughter. Arrayed against this noble force is an entitlement to something for nothing, a desire to profit for no labor. Perhaps some form of ultra-capitalism. In this impoverished country is your next meal is more important than good will?
Focusing first on the good positive. In Kenya the children wave and run up to you, to shake your hand and feel your pale white flesh, rub your hair, and incessantly chant "howareyou, howareyou?". Occasionally they may stare at you from a distance with uncertainty and a little fear, but after the first reassuring smile or proffering of your hand melts their cool visage into a radiant smile. Even on a rainy day this jubilance of Kenya comes through, brilliantly. We were standing out in the rain getting drenched when a man came out of and invited us into his home. How many of us invite strangers into our home simply because its raining? Too few. May Douglas' home be filled with such compassion and happiness for all time. Beyond that the welcoming nature of Kenyans is afforded another great aspect. People randomly welcomed me to Kenya. Welcoming aside one they regularly went on to inquire about me and my thoughts on Kenya, very personable. A wonderful treat. Originally I asked myself, "How did they know?". Kenya with its homogenous (99%) racial composition uniquely enjoys this pleasant advantage to other more diverse societies. Another thing that makes me marvel at their friendliness is the tendency of children by the roadside to wave to passersby. Most kids wave endlessly weather you are traveling 10kmh or 120kmh. I would always try and do my best to return this kindness in an attempt to delay the point in our lives when we stop waving at each other.

On the other side of this issue is the less flattering specter of the greedy solicitor. The terminology is difficult to come by, since this idea is so strange to me. Tell me how it suits you. A friendly fellow and I speak for an hour, I meet his wife and his first born. We talk of many things, in this time, he even asks me to take his picture and send it to him which I politely do. I learn of his marriage his job and his life. We become fast friends. His manner was a little off putting, I normally, as a rule, don't like people who command photographs, but he was being cordial enough. But as we neared the end of the road the man ended our friendship in the following manner:

Ngobe: "we are extreme best friends now"
Me: "You bet"
Ngobe: "OK as my extreme best friend don't you want to buy dinner for my family, only 1000 shillings, (14 bucks)"
Me: "Sorry Ngobe, that's not what friends do."

The nerve! At that moment that man pissed away the good feelings I had about him. Sadly its not a unique experience. Even officials in the airport asked for some sort of monetary gift.
Kids sometimes asked for money, or a pen or other item, but their efforts were almost forgivable. Since the majority of the kids were far more eager to extend a hand in friendship than for money. Prices in Kenya are not fixed, they are floating depending on how much you think you can get. I am not talking about he souvenir hawkers, who are beyond shame. But the bus drivers, whose rates are more fixed. Bus drivers have the unenviable job of collecting 50 cents from everyone then looking you in the eye and saying 75 cents as if I were somehow more a burden on him. I mean if he can get it, why shouldn't he take it from us, really. Integrity is so darn unprofitable.

Hospitality gone wrong
Just like Ngobe's false understanding of friendship there are some people in Kenya who don't really seem to grasp the idea of hospitality. At “Nyoma Choma†we approached a filthy table and we were asked if we wanted to eat there, because if so, she could clean it for us. My only thought was, you are going to need to clean it anyway, so just do it. But of course when we declined to eat at that table it went the entire night without being cleaned. Service was horrible the rest of the night from all of the wait staff, we paid upfront, so they had no desire to speak to us after that. Other incidents were that the safari people said all inclusive, but not drinks. And each place we went we found the drinks way overpriced. Speaking of interesting sidenotes to hospitality, it seems that in our host cooked three meals a day for us, and gave us lodging, but we had to buy our own toilet paper. Odd but not rude. Also we were expected to pay for the nights when we were out of town between the nights we stayed there, Since she claimed she had to hold the rooms for us, so that our rooms would be there when we got back. An interesting interpretation. You don't pay for products/services, but potential loss of products/services to others. Over all it seemed that more people wanted something for nothing than those who would genuinely offer their hand in friendship.

Writing this has been an exercise for me in discovering how I feel about Kenya. My gut reaction has been that I don't like it (haha, its funny cause my bowles are biased.). But after looking back on it as a whole I am not so sure. Ultimately, it's not important what I think; go make your own minds up.

Back in the states.
Demitry in Chicago lost my luggage.

...
If you speak of differences; Lebanon is miles apart while Kenya is measured in light years.

This evening we leave for dubai. we will be spending 6 hours in the airport before we continue onward to Kenya. Addis Ababa was our other choice of connections. Everyone tells me that Dubai airport is so huge and packed full of stores that the 6 hour layover will fly by.

Which brings us back to last night? Why do i even bother with a chronolog? We started off at timeout, a place for the parents to talk and meet, it was very nice, i tried to sell my body to get a lebanese passport, but no luck. Seems that only men can give their spouses lebanese citizenship, and wouldn't you know gay marriage is out of the picture here too.

the rolled on and we found ourselves at Che, a quaint little homage to the revolutionary, that happens to serve mojitos. After soaking up the revolutionary vibe for a few hours our small posse moved on to gauche caviar, but not before leaving our mark on the town, or at least its cars. Now i know where all those scrapes and dents on cars come from.

Rolling on, we arrive at Gauche Caviar. we we rejoin the younger contingent. Here i use my supernatural foreinger powers to pick up every girl in the bar. Amazing. it seems the entire bar was constituted of lebanese who very much liked texas. Bravo!

I mean really, when isn't pirate talk appreciated?
Yesterday was wonderful, just like i mistyped. We did nothing i played with gallery2 for a new image system, that i plan to wrap into the site soon. The day was inspired by my last journal entry. It seems my hosts read it too, and the second i posted it, they read it and made sure it happened. Its great. However this does raise questions about bias in reporting that i am not comfortable with. Thank goodness this is a wonderful adventure and i have nothing bad to say, but if it were not the case? Do i not report Or do i ban the host country from reading my website? Hrm... I met the man who controls the .lb top level domain tonight.

As we prattled on about computer gizmos and gaffaws the girls called out in agony. Why cant guys discuss nonsense for a little while? Why would anyone want to do that, if i am only here in lebanon for a short time, do i really have time to waste talking about the weather? Now take that mindset and apply it to life, if we are only here for a 100 years is there any subsection of that you would like to immediately write of as conversational waste products? I hope not.

Today is the day after christmas here, but it doesn't feel like it at all. The country works right through all holidays it seems, since half the country doesn't observe it there is still work getting done, and when it comes time for muslim holidays all the christians will be working, its kinda great.

They may be at odds with each other, but the lebonese people go far beyond the call of duty for their guests. I was warned of their awesome hospitality before i got out of the airport, by a man named tex, from Texas, wearing longhorn garb. He said there was no greater sense of hospitality out there. However this man also warned against the ever present mugger/murderer/rapist/pickpocket evil villain who will take advantage of me. Its an interesting sell, hospitality and fear. After Tex's inquires into my collegiate past and other silly things we seperated off to look for our luggage in different parts of the airport, not before he gave me a big hook 'em horn though, sheesh. I elected to ignore this raving lunatic, as nice as he was his messages neutralized each other.

The Cortas' were indeed waiting for me, scoring the first point for Lebanese hospitality. Every since then it has been an unending route for team hospitality. in a dramatic upset the villainous protester has invited us to tea. I have seen grown men get into a scuffle over who would pay for hamburgers. I have had clerks instructed in Arabic to ignore me and my monetary offerings. Time and time again my overtures to share the cost of this trip has been rebuffed, not only rebuffed but laughed at. I could understand if this were the case for a few days but it has been over a week. I have struggled and tried to tried to spend money, but the only times i have managed are when no one is watching and i sneak it, victorious only 3 times.

This is not just a contest of who can pay, it goes beyond that. On Friday we took a guided tour, but on Saturday and Sunday the whole family took us out and around town, giving of themselves also. I imagined they don't really eat four meals a day, and they are just trying to fatten me up. But we went to see the aforementioned movie last night and one of the lines from the movie occurred when a guy and his friend were sneaking out of the house at four am. The mother stopped them and told them they couldn't leave until they ate something. Next scene they are pulling their caper with a sandwich in hand. Classic. In Lebanon Hospitality rules the day.

Today it is raining, and i aspire to do nothing. I wonderful if it will be allowed.

Went out this evening to paint some ceramics, and see a film. Falafel. Hopefully the bowl comes out alright. The movie did.

That view i was talking about earlier can be found .here

Last night i made teh mistake of telling a group of people in Lebanon "happy Holidays" a fun row ensued as we discussed americans aversion to religion. A funny topic in lebanon. Of course during the exchange it was revealed that 9 out of ten people present were indeed Americans, Funny stuff.

Today we went to peek at Ramzi's new construction. the views here are great, its amazing how close the sea and the mountains are. Construction methods over here are diffrent too. garages open immediately onto the streets, no set back lines no dimension requirements, its really great. of course there are some rules, but anything built during the war is exempt. For example you must have X amount of land to build Y amount of Home, but if you build it during a lawless period, war, you can build X amount of house on X amount of land. I am speaking about the mountain type laws, where the land is actually available, in the city you always build X on X cause thats what you have to do.

We had a great family Christmas, 30+ attendees and the television was not turned on once. It was spectacular.

After a quick wikipedia trip i felt prepared to goto my first Quaker meeting. it was a great way to spend an hour, silent contemplation. Afterwards we went to some underground caves that had tighet photograph security than the hizballah camps and the lebanese security forces. So it a was a photo light day. we rode trams boats and train and walked throughout some reallyl neato cool places, like those in slovakia. Once again it was underutilized and over built, that means it was almost a private showing, once again. Then we went to Byblos ... where stuff happened ... but now we must go round to the families houses.

We drove south today, into Hizballah realms again. If you go east you find them, if you go south you find them, if you goto to downtown beirut you find them. Hrm... I am begining to see a pattern. i really enjoyed our trip because it showed us the national conditions. The situation between the major cities. Most strikingly, every semi-important bridge is gone, not just the big one i saw yesterday. All of them, gone. Good game Israel, rematch?

Ruins, UN Occupiers, endless seas of fruit. and a really fun coastal run sum up todays jaunt. As a bonus while we were looking for the ancient ruins we got to see what it looks like when the sky falls on your heads and make modern ones. OK Isreal best 3 outta 4?

I had a second to snag some photos off the cameras, most representative.
Photo Album here
Internet here is metered, so we will have to wait for a more comprehensive upload. Our right to fat pipes. I am thinking about pitching my tent downtown and protesting for free internet for all, and its not even my country. :P

So much so little.
Ksara Winery, Baalbeck, and Anjar.
THere was much trepidation as to weather i could goto Baalbeck, it is in the heart of Hizballah territory, and as we neared the towen we saw the pennant of their faction, the street was lined with their yellow Kalashnikov logos. But it was pretty calm, except for the recent speeches made in downtown Beirut, which were being broadcast from the mosques speakers(you know the speakers that belt out the call to prayer across an entire town? yea those). the winery was lame, but at least i got to say "no i don't like your wine, its too "sharp" or young. and the lady blushed and said "yea", i felt like the best wine connoisseur. I tooka ton of pictures. My op tech camera strap is so integral to a fien shooting experiance, i could walk around incognito and then whip out the big boy in a split second and have it back under mycoat in a heartbeat, it was like being a wild west cameraman. in this manner it was easier to carry than my micro camera.

The ruins of Lebanon are unique in that they are largely unprotected. we were able to walk up in and on the ruins. They could benefit from a little bit more preservation work, it stopped in 1975 and has yet to begin anew. However the support structure is there and primed. there are wonderful restruants that seat 200, with only one table filled. sharp contemporary musums with great exibits that serve 5 people a day. Its a real shame. Lebanon has a great Business sense and has penty of support for their natural beauty but i fear they might need to develope their beauty a bit more. Rumor has it we go south, maybe i will wear my terrorist gear i bought in the Hizballah stronghold. I paid in US dollars, to be sure.

We went for a quick walk today down through the protesters camp, a couple times. Our trip was a sightseeing tour of tanks and razor wire soldiers and memories. We walked from one side of Beirutto the other, crossing the downtown center twice, visiting the protesters each time. We walked along the sea to the spot Where Rafik Hariri was Sent into orbit. nearly 3 blocks of the water front were destroyed in the deadly blast, a crater still remains. The site is protected and cordoned off by the Military. Passing inland we found our way to downtown after skirting barrier after barrier of Tanks and razor wire, with soldiers at each post. Eventually we found our way behind them. after exploreing a deserted quarter we saw a checkpoint in the distance where the guard was denying people entrance, it would seem we have accidently got behind the barricades. There were some roman ruins downtown that lay were they fell years ago, after the xcavation, nothing seems to have been done to their preservation, yet. We passed through the checkpoint in reverse, the guard was a bit confused. From here we walked into the Protesters camp. We walked intot he middle of a soccer game, a ball flew Sana's way and she caught it. The guys were impressed, but i gasped, at the use of her hands in a soccer bout, i mean football match, err ... futbol! cause thats the language i chose to speak. Spanish seemed the best way to decline their invitation to lunch and a game of futbol.

Passing there we found an older neighborhood, Geymazi. Where her Grandmother lived, back in the neighborhood I found a wonderful old house with great detail in its construction. It was dilapidated but the care in its construction stood out like a ray of sunlight through the grey clouds of the contemporary concrete jungle that surrounded it. We went up on the roof of her Grandmothers old house and saw the old grape vines growing in the dense urban jungle, marvelous. On the way home we passed through the Camp again, this time on the other side, without incident they inspected my bag and found my cameras this time, but only asked me politely to not take photos, so i respected their wishes. Tomorrow we goto Baalbeck.

The DNS server has been wonky for the past few days, the backup is now online. Thank goodness.
Of course the moment i leave the office something like this happens. At least the internet here works and i have been able to work on it. ns2.zoneedit.com is the failure point. After five years its not bad, but boy is it bad timing for an outtage.