Potpourri of Travel Stories Prior to 2012

An act of kindness

In September 2003, I was travelling in Northern India with my parents. We saw abject poverty in much of the rural areas. We gave out food, change, pens to people all along the way with one exception.

We were unable to buy first class tickets for the train journey from Agra to Jaipur. We had to ride in a non-AC car with the locals one hot afternoon. It was 42 degrees Celsius in the shade, and we had finished drinking our last bottle of water when a local man got on the train from a village stop. One of the empty bottles was sitting at my mother’s side on the hard wooden seat. This elderly man in tattered clothes sat opposite to us, and he kept staring at my mother’s thigh. She got very worried that the man would rape or rob her because of his long stares. She almost sat on my lap. As the train was pulling into the next station, the man got up and motioned me to give him the bottle. He jumped off the train. When he returned, he handed my mother a bottle full of yellowish water. 


As I figured out later, he was concerned that my mother looked extremely dehydrated. He wanted to get some water from the station tap using the empty bottle. We (North Americans) consider ourselves as civilized and refined people. Yet we have to be reminded constantly how to be kind and compassionate towards others. Do we really know how to live in the moment, be truly mindful of our surroundings, and be aware of other people's needs?

On the way to Marymana (Mother Mary's last house before her assumption) - April 2004

My next stop was Virgin Mary's house in the hills after Ephesus. I was told by my host at the guesthouse that I should be able to take a taxi up there for less than $20 USD. The taxi drivers would not take me there for less than $40 USD one way. One of them told me to wait for 2 more tourists to share the cost of the ride.

I waited for half hour and there was no other independent traveler. It was 2 pm and I knew I had to get going. I started walking and the taxi driver scared me by saying that there are a lot of wild dogs in the bushes and I would be eaten up by wild animals. I pretended I could not hear them and hiked up the hills for 6 miles. Giant tour buses went by. Even though I did not look up, I could sense curious stares from the passengers on these buses. 

While hiking, I prayed to God and Virgin Mary for protection. There were trees that provided shade for me pretty much the whole way. I was not too dehydrated after the 1.5 hr hike. To my surprise, admission was only $2.50 USD since I entered the premises on foot. If I had come by a vehicle, it would have been $15 USD for admission. So things really worked out money-wise.

I only had a 0.5 litre bottle and a can of pop that whole time. Outside Maryemana (Mary's House) were many fountains and I had all the natural spring water that I could drink before I started back.

Half way down the hills, a Muslim couple driving a Mercedes Benz stopped. The wife got off the car and invited me to get into the back of the car with her. They took me back to the exit side of Ephesus.

Normally re-entry is not allowed. I explained to the guards that I needed to take the minibus at the other side. They let me in and I got to see Ephesus in both directions and dramatically different lights that normal tourists would not experience.  How much blessed and loved could I be!

Silk Road - Northern Route, August 2005

I arrived in Kashgar this morning, safe and sound. The bus ride from Yining to Korla got to be one of the worst bus rides in my memory. It reminded me so much of the time we were travelling in the Himalayan Mountains after a rainfall. It took a whooping 23 hours for a distance of 750 kms. I thought I would stay overnight in Korla but I did not because I saw everything in an afternoon. It is a lot like Las Vegas. High rises in the middle of vast barren land. Surprisingly, it must have at least 1 million in population.

The roads from Korla to Kashgar are much nicer; however, the bus was pretty run down and broke down at least ten times, especially near the end of the journey. It took 20 hours for 1001 kms. Kashgar appears to be more modern than I imagine. I took a mini tour this afternoon and would explore some more tomorrow. Depending whether the travel agent can get me a train ticket to Urumqi on Saturday, I might be flying back late to Urumqi Sunday night.

Waving down a bus outside the Atacama Desert in South America 2007

After 24 hours of non-stop travelling on buses, I have arrived in the beautiful city of Salta in Argentina. I will be taking a flight from Salta to Buenos Aires tomorrow night. Will be spending 2 days there then flying off to the infamous Iguazu Falls.

I must say that during this past week I have experienced numerous miracles. First, I got detoured in Puno and avoided serious civil unrest in Bolivia. Then I was able to reroute via Chile. When I arrived at a border town in Chile at 2 am in the morning, I had no Chilean money and the hostel took me in without questions. The miraculous part was that I was able to walk to the hostel from the bus terminal without problems. You see, the bus terminal did not open 24 hours a day and there were a number of homeless people staking the terminal. Petty theft is common according to the Lonely Planet guide.

The very next morning, with less than 5 hours of sleep, I was urged by my host to check with all bus companies to find a way to get out of Arica because the international services are infrequent. I got lucky because I went to a very kind and smart agent at Geminis. He told me to check with another international service bus company. Both men checked and there was not one single seat. Then the Geminis agent went to a national service bus company and arranged for me to go to San Pedro de Atacama, a small town near the Chile/Argentina border. He said if I waved down a bus on the highway, and begged really hard, I might be to get on a bus to Salta or the nearby city, Jujuy.

I went back to the hostel and told other tourists. They all thought that it was outrageous. I rested a bit more and had a visit of the town centre. When I returned to the hostal after my extreme sightseeing in Arica, my host suggested that I might even try to hitchhiking, especially with a truck driver. When I was at the bus terminal waiting for my bus to San Pedro, some passengers told me that there was a 7.9 earthquake off the coast of Arica 2 days ago. Fortunately there were no substantial property damages and no human loss.

After a pretty rough night on the bus, I arrived in San Pedro at 9:50 am. We had to get off the bus twice during the night at 2 control points for drug trafficking. It was freezing cold outside even we were travelling the desert region of Chile. I did what the kind man told me to do. I waved down a bus and the driver was very sympathetic. I got on an international bus without having to plead with the driver too much.

I sat with local people for all my bus trips and managed to talk to them through hand gestures and words common to both English and Spanish. I have not met one that is mean to me whereas many of the tourists have this superior attitude over the locals especially with the indigenous people. My local neighbors always tried to help me along the way even though I did not understand them half of the time. I feel very blessed indeed. I must get going now because I think siesta time is over and the stores and offices are opening up again. I got to confirm my flights with the airline office.

From Cuzco to La Paz today...in 2007

I have seen one of the New Seven Wonders of the World yesterday. Machu Picchu is indeed very wondrous. I made friends with half a dozen birds and one persistent alpaca who followed me to the exit. I don’t normally take more than two pics of one thing but I have four pics of him or her. I finally had to say to my amigo at the exit, "Baby, I can’t take you home with me because you don’t have a bus ticket to go down to the train station." We were both heart broken and parted with our heads down.

As I suffer serious Acute Mountain Sickness, I could only join an old folks´ tour. I took the train and bus to Machu Picchu. There was a guide who did a 2 hour tour of the site. Afterwards we have about 2 hours of free time. I was sitting down to have a sandwich and chocolate milk which I had been carrying all that way. Then I noticed some birds singing around me. I threw out a couple peanuts and more came. I had a choir of birds singing around me while having lunch at Machu Picchu. It just could not be any more magical than that!

At the end of the day sightseeing in Cuzco, a native woman came up to me with a shopping bag full of sweaters. She told me that they are alpaca sweaters. After some bargaining, I bought one XL sweater from her. It is a perfect fit and the more important thing is that it will keep me warm at the next high place that I visit - La Paz. My amigo at the hostel confirmed that it is llama hair.

 Passionate People and Surreal Landscape of Jordan - Nov 19, 2008

Believe it or not, my wait at the Port of Nuweiba was over 10 hours. When I got to the other shore, it was past 11 p.m. During the unbearably long wait, I acquired husband #9. He is a travelling businessman from Aleppo, Syria. Even though there was a younger oriental woman, who spoke Arabic, in the group, I was the chosen one. Julia, my competition, is a Taiwanese student who has been studying Arabic in Cairo for the past 2 years. Julia told me that before I arrived in the waiting area, she was the centre of attention. But seriously though, Julia is actually on a love mission to get a visa to go to Jordan for her Egyptian boyfriend. Ah, the things that a woman in love does for amour.

Aqaba is much, much cleaner than any of the port cities in Egypt. King Hussein Highway is incredibly well maintained. The prices in Aqaba are lower than that of the cities in Egypt. Jordanians love their king, so much so that there are pictures of him everywhere.

As I was trying to find a restaurant that serves breakfast at 8:30 a.m. this morning, an elderly man approached me and asked if he could help me with anything. I said "breakfast" and he invited me to have coffee with him at his jewelry store. Imagine if I had accepted his invite, I would have husband #10 by now. Well, the logical side of me instead chose to sit in a minibus heading for Petra for an hour for it to get full.

I wish I did not spend so much time in Egypt. I had no choice but to skip Wadi Rum. As we were driving past Wadi Rum, the landscape outside the window was incredibly surreal. I prayed that there will be peace in the Middle East in the near future, and I can visit Iran, Iraq and Lebanon with a stopover in Jordan. Hopefully I will be able to meet my Prince of Arabia next time.

Tomorrow is my big day in Petra so I will try to rest up now. I haven't been walking for many days and my feet are quite healed. I should be able to explore the Rose City on foot for 10 hours.

Reporting from Wadi Musa (Moses' Valley) outside Petra...

On the Road to Damascus, Syria - November 2008

I just had the biggest meal I have had in weeks since I left Vancouver 3 weeks ago. To indulge in the Syrian pastime of eating is effortless; however, the aftermath could result in the consumption of a handful of Tums. Syrian cuisine is definitely the best among the Middle Eastern countries.

The Syrian fatteh is rather different from the fatta in Aswan, Egypt. Syrian chefs marinate meats before cooking and this makes such a big difference. I also had shish tawouk which is chicken shish kebab - the best that I ever ate.

Enough about food, let me tell you what happened this morning. I went to the Old City today with the hope of re-creating the scene of how Saul, the Christian prosecutor converted into Paul, the most influential evangelist in the Christian church history. Well, I did not accomplish what I set out to do. First, I could not get into the Umayyad Mosque. Then I got lost trying to find the "Straight Street" in the Old City.

Don't let the name of Straight Street fool you. The streets here are anything but straight. One wrong turn you will be walking in the totally wrong direction. Well, the good thing is that I wandered into an area that is hardly visited by foreigners. I believe it is a wholesale market.

I bought myself a beautiful "sheesha", water pipe for smoking fruit favoured tobacco. I picked the different parts to be assembled together. It has to be the most gorgeous sheesha that I have ever set my eyes on. I bought it from a shop looked after by 3 young men. The oldest one could not be more than 20 years old. The other two boys appear to be brothers who are about 10 and 12. The whole experience was very enjoyable even though we did not know each other's language.

Back to Paul the evangelist...Supposedly he was imprisoned in a jail near a city gate of Old Damascus. His companions lowered him to ground level in a basket to make an escape. St. Paul's chapel, which I did not find, marks the spot where the event took place. By following a group of French tourists, I nevertheless managed to see St. Ananais house. Sometimes tourist groups could be useful that way.

I was extremely tired by the time I finished being lost in the Old City. I ate, then crashed into my bed and did not wake up until 6:30 pm. I located the museum on my way to the restaurant and will visit it tomorrow morning before taking a bus to Palmyra because most of the artefacts from Palmyra are actually displayed in the National Museum in Damascus.

As-salamu alaykum

Eggs a la head in Porto, Portugal - September 2009

Greetings from Porto, Portugal It is 6:30 am and very dark outside. The sun does not rise for another 45 minutes. I am sending this email from my little netbook, lying in bed. I totally adore my netbook even though I carried it the whole day yesterday, my shoulders are still good as new.

I had the most amazing day yesterday. As always, I got lost while visiting the old city of Porto. However, this time I was not alone. A young man from Sweden was asking for directions from the locals who were sitting on their doorsteps, drunk and/or stoned on a warm Saturday afternoon. Before I know it, Fabian and I were travelling together.

Before I get any further with my narrative, I must make a confession. I did not expect this trip to be an eye-opening one. Was I ever wrong in assuming this! I am once again educated by my travels. For instance, now I know the Portuguese version of Benedict is Bento. English words now make sense to me and I am very persuaded to study Latin. I am also intrigued by the Portuguese tiled walls. They totally removed my pre-conceived notion that tiles, especially painted porcelain tiles can only be found in bathrooms or kitchens.

While walking down to the river bank, I stopped to look at the map under the bridge, Ponte Dom Luis I (designed by Gustavo Eiffel). I got hit by an egg. At first I thought those darned sea gulls pooh on my clean black T-shirt. I let out a loud cry and wanted to return to the guesthouse. Some lady who was going to hang her laundry to dry, gave me a freshly washed towel to wipe myself. Another lady came out to wipe me. Fabian was going to take me back to the water tap that we were drinking from. You see the egg cracked right on top of my head. My face and hair were covered with the sticky stuff. Thankfully the temperature was not too high or else there would have been scrambled eggs a la head. Well, the sea gulls gave me the best hair conditioner that I could ever hope for.

Driven by the idea of having a fish dinner by the sea, we ventured out to the mouth of the river. We were wandering in the city centre right by the sea. Almost all the stores were closed except for SPAR and Inter-Marche. According to Fabian, SPAR is the largest supermarket chain in Scandanavia. Inter-Marche is a French owned supermarket.. None of the local stores was open. We were about to give up the idea of having a seafood dinner at around 6:30 pm. Then I got a glimpse of the Atlantic Ocean in between the buildings. I wanted to watch the sunset from the most western point in continental Europe. When it got chilly, we got up and started walking towards the bus stop. The restaurants opened and the BBQ on the sidewalks were warming up outside the restaurants...

I had grilled bacalhlau (I think rock cod) for dinner. Of course, I had Port wine which is the best red wine that I have ever tasted. What would an authentic Portuguese dinner be without a chocolate mousse tart? The best part is that the cost of this dinner is only 15 Euros.. No wonder there are so many British and French tourists here.

This is a long email because I might not be able to write in 1 -2 days. Don't worry about me. I feel safe and I know I am protected by at least 4 guardian angels surrounding me everywhere I go.

From Russia with love in October 2011

Greetings from Ulan-Ude, Russia!

From Kazan to Yekaterinburg, it is a 15-hour train ride. I have to say out of the 5 Russian cities that I visited, I like Kazan the most. I love its peacefulness, harmony and bookish atmosphere. Half of the population is Muslim and the half Orthox Christians. If you look at picture #82 carefully, you can see the minarets on the background and golden onion domes on the foreground. The picture has not been photo-shoped. Nowhere else in the world could have a mosque and a church within a block of each other; never mind in the same Kremlin.

Yekaterburg is famous for the gruesome murder of the last Russian royal family, the Romanov's. They were murdered in July 1918. I visited their final resting place at Sts. Peter & Paul cathedral in St. Petersburg. I thought I would also light a candle at their death site in Yekaterinburg where they were hiding from the Bolsheviks. For a mid-size Siberian city, Yekaterinburg has many more public jumbo screens than some world-class cities. Its wealth comes from the nearby precious stone mines.

This is my 13th day in Russia and my Russian vocabulary is still limited to a dozen words. However, I managed to keep myself entertained for the greater part of a 60-hour train ride without saying a whole lot of Russian to a train full of non-English speaking Russians. I got a 70-year old Russian grandma to sing and recite poetry to me. Other times I have had staring contests with kids and a young man from Tajikistan who now lives in Irkutsk.

The Buryats are Mongol descendants and they account for 30% of the population here. Tomorrow I will make a day trip to a Buddhist temple 23 km away from the city. On my way there, I will also visit the ethnological museum to better understand this culture. Ulan-Ude is famous for the 22-meter tall giant Lenin head. There is also a golden Lenin statue outside the new Orthodox Church on the newer side of the city. The locals just love their Uncle Len!

Volunteering is mandatory!

During the past three months, I had been volunteering at various community events and celebrations. I have had many opportunities to talk and work with high school and post-secondary students. Because I don't have any children, I am not clued into the latest development in BC high school curriculum. I learned a few things from these youths.

When I asked a Grade 8 student one Sunday afternoon in early June the reason for his volunteering, he replied that he already had two detentions in the last week because he has not fulfilled the requirements of thirty hours in volunteering per school year. He had to complete thirty hours of volunteering before his summer holidays could start in three weeks' time. This young man was driven by his father to the relatively remote site where the event was held. His father stayed on site the entire four hours while his son volunteered. Too bad the event organizer only acknowledged four hours.

I spoke to a first year university student the following week. He was in an International Baccalaureate program when he was studying in senior high school. He would have to complete 150 volunteering hours before he could graduate from high school. He also added that he hated most the part about having to fill out a feedback form each time he volunteered. He had to make up some stories to say how great the experience was. He was doing volunteer work this summer to better his chance of getting into a med school.

Vancouver has many international students who came specifically to learn English. I met about a dozen of them during my volunteering stints. A Japanese girl told me that she wanted to practise what she learned in the past nine months before returning home by volunteering at a community event. Then there was a group of four Korean students who would be taking group pictures and twittering every half hour or so. A couple of Chinese students would arrive with large messenger bags. They were at the community event to collect freebies along with the garbage on the ground.

Even though I was not required to volunteer, I volunteered for other self-centered motives. Prior to retirement, I seldom got time to explore my hometown, Vancouver. I chose events at locations that I have not visited before or have not visited for a long time. I also had preference for ethnic celebrations so that I could post enticing pictures on social media promoting the cultural diversity in my hometown. I also collected small toys, pens and souvenirs which I can give out to deprived children on my next journey.

I had a blog titled "To Date Or Not To Date" a couple months ago. Now only if we can make it mandatory for these lonely souls to volunteer on the weekends, these singles would be paired off in no time at all. LOL

New Form of Prostitution

Ever since I moved into my new place two and a half months ago, I have had two roommates. They are both international students. The first one is from Japan and the current one is from the Caribbean. These girls like to bring men back to the house late at night. Sometimes these men left in the morning and sometimes before dawn. My ex-roommate would get calls in the evenings and return home in the early hours of the morning. She usually came home with bags of new clothes and food when she came back in the afternoons. I thought nothing of her ability to afford all these merchandise at first. Then one night, I overheard a phone conversation in Japanese. "Okay, I will see you in half an hour at the usual place. But I would not accept anything less than 300."

My current roommate only moved in ten days ago. Already her "boyfriend" stayed overnight in her room three times. When he left at 5:20 am this morning, he said to her, "I am coming back tonight. When are you getting off work from the restaurant tonight?" I was awake because I had gone to the bathroom just moments before I heard the conversation in the hallway. This Caribbean student has been telling me that she needs money because her parents are not supporting her financially and she has taken out a student loan. She had to work full-time and study part-time.

Many years ago when I lived in Toronto and shared a house with six other U of T students, international students were not allowed to work in Canada. Most of my roommates came from different parts of the world. Some would take up cash jobs at a fraction of the legal minimum wages. They worked long hours and seldom bought any luxury goods. One of my roommates often came home with scraps from the restaurant that she worked in as a dishwasher. Amazingly enough, she saved a fair sum of money to take home to Pakistan when she completed her masters degree program.

When I was travelling in Australia in 2013, I stayed in hostels mainly. I met many young ladies from developed countries and they were on working holiday visas. They would sleep with a different man every night in the hope of meeting an Australian guy who would marry them, and they could stay in Australia permanently. This is also common in urban centres in Canada. While working as a property manager, I received many applications from inter-racial, newly-wed or common-law couples. I sometimes wondered how these couples could be hooked up other than the pubs. Then I saw online ads similar to the one below:

Are you a Student - m4w (surrey area) 

e this posting

body : fit status : single

Are you a student who deserves better? If I am right than you should message me and see if we could have some chemistry. I am a single man who is loyal, supportive and non-judgmental. If this interests you and you want a better life or environment we should chat and see if it goes anywhere. Thank you.

The unofficial job boards are constantly flooded with ads for 19-25 female international students for modelling positions. It is evident that the Police Department has made similar observations and is allocating some of their resources in this area. An article in the April 23, 2015 edition of National Post stated that:

...Vancouver police Const. Brian Montague said that police have not received reports of the alleged WeChat sex scam, which appears to be criminal extortion.

Scams like this are probably under-reported, Montague said, because men are embarrassed by being duped or fear telling police that they were involved in a potential crime of soliciting prostitutes.

“These types of scams are only limited by people’s imagination,” Montague said. “It’s just a question of a different medium — in this case instead of Craigslist they are using WeChat. It’s important for people to know in any situation that whenever they contact or agree to meet someone online, you don’t really know who it is.”

Canada might have changed our immigration policies to counteract the trend of our rapidly aging population resulting in the shrinking labour force. The government has improved its revenues and generated jobs in several industries by proactively accepting a large number of international student each year. However, I wonder if there are measures at the federal level to mitigate social problems created by admitting the progressively increasing numbers of international students and young tourists on working holiday visa into Canada.

To date or not to date

As a last resort to find a travel companion for my next journey, I put up an ad on Craigslist. I browsed through the personals regularly. I found the ads rather amusing.

In the STRICTLY PLATONIC section, I saw the following ads under the subsection of m4w:

I am a man looking for a woman to have phone sex with. I don't want to know your real name or ever want to meet. If you are a woman interested in phone sex for fun, shoot me a message including your phone # and when u would like to talk. No pics.

I am looking for any Women who might be into making a new Friend/Cuddle Partner this long weekend... I am a fun white athletic single male who lives alone and looking for a woman who is into that. Let me know more and lets hangout and cuddle this long weekend :)

i was reading this newspaper article today about cuddle companies in Vancouver. and how cuddling and non-sexual touch raises our happiness hormones.And makes us more happy. i am NOT looking for serious relationship. just occasional cuddle, shoulder massage, pressing accupressure points to make each other feel good.i am male/32/well qualified/having good job and a good life. Plz respond ONLY if you are willing to meet and send your number. Don't want to be wasting time making 'email friends'.

In the STRICTLY PLATONIC section, I saw the following ads under the subsection of w4m:

I'm bored, just seeing if anyone would be interested in walking around the seawall and then going for all you can eat sushi? ...I'm not a super fit person, you don't need to be either so long as you can walk around the seawall. It would also be nice to meet someone who can hold a conversation, an awkward 3 hour walk doesn't interest me :p

I love cooking but better yet, sitting back and being cooked for. I will pour the wine and be your sous chef. I will let you pick the movie too! Just want a stress free time. No deep talks. No talk of horrible ex's. No pressure. Just dinner, drinks and a fun night curled up watching movies. Please no married, attached men....not into drama.

If you're reading this, perhaps you are similar to me in hoping there is another open-minded individual to share fun and friendly conversations with? It could lead to sharing stories over coffee or while walking in a park. I am a hard working, early 30s lady with a good head on her shoulders but find having a group of professionally employed friends makes it difficult to just chat or head out for dinner or even a walk together. It would just be lovely to have someone else I can communicate with - no strings attached!

Looking at these ads, I observe some commonalities and discrepancies. What men want is usually not what women want. Men want to touch, cuddle and have sex whereas women want to walk, talk and eat. I suppose whenever supply meets demand, it is the start of a beautiful friendship.

My Spiritual Transformations in Mozambique

Last year around Christmas time I was traveling in Central Mozambique in a northbound direction, attempting to reach Mozambique Island before the holidays. I was visiting a small port city called Quelimane when something unimaginable happened. My bag containing all my ID's, credit and debit cards, cash, cell phone, netbook computer and camera was snatched from my side in the early morning hours of December 21, 2015 at a bus stop outside the city market. I was penniless and had no ID for two weeks in a Portuguese-speaking country in Africa.

Prior to the robbery, my journey through Mozambique was not much different from my other trips through developing countries with poorly maintained roads. I was staying in run-down hotels and travelling in crowded buses that were considered to be luxurious by locals. Moreover, I was still pretty much in control of my travel options.  For the lack of a better way to describe my experience in those two weeks subsequent to the incident, I would say that I went through dramatic spiritual transformations. My outlook on life took a 180 degree turn. After that, it was not so important that I was in control of my own destiny.  

For the first three nights, I slept on the floor of the Immigration Office. The staff would chip in to buy me one meal a day. The water for my bucket shower came from a well in the courtyard. The office phone couldn't dial outside the country. There were only two desktop computers in the whole department. Most of my days was spent under a huge mango tree. Sometimes official business was also conducted under the tree. The officers would be writing on a pad of forms with carbon paper in between the pages. Occasionally a mango or two would drop to the ground. Sometimes the grounds keeper would hook some mangoes down for me. I always got to sit on the best chair. 

On Christmas eve morning, I faxed the High Commissioner of Canada in Maputo after leaving a couple of messages on their general voice mailbox and getting no response the previous day. The Immigration Office was closing at noon that day. The lady in charge of my case called a wealthy local businesswoman who sent her driver and secretary to pick me up from the Immigration Office. They checked me into a small hotel, and I stayed there for four days. I continued to eat just one meal a day. I spoke to no one. For some reason, I did not feel hungry or sad. 

During Christmas, all the shops were all closed for a few days, and the streets were quiet. Even if I was hungry and had money, I would not be able to buy food. I was just worried that the thieves would clear out my bank accounts with the debit and credit cards in my bag. I suppose when I involuntarily fasted and constantly pondered about the meaning of life with no distraction for hours on end, I finally realized that God would provide. All I had to do was to surrender, and allow Him to be in charge.

Angels came in all forms, shapes and sizes. On Boxing Day, while having the complimentary breakfast in the hotel, I heard an English conversation at the next table. I approached the young couple and asked them how to make a call outside Mozambique. The couple is originally from the States. They now live on the other side of the river and were in a hurry to catch a ferry. The young lady let me use her laptop to Skype one of my banks. There was no answer after ringing for half an hour. She then walked me to her friend's house where I was able to connect with my brother by email. By that time, I hadn't had contact with the outside world for a week. 

My second angel is a pastor couple who fed me the following week. Every day I would go to their house and spent pretty much the whole day with their church family. Even though they did not limit the times that I could get online, I only used their computer to correspond with my brother. The strangest thing happened - I was beginning to feel very isolated. Most of them were bilingual; however, I did not want to repeat my story over and over again. On New Year's Eve, I stayed in my room in the wealthy businesswoman's house when my "church friends" celebrated the New Year with lots of food and music. I had another long dialogue with the Almighty. After submitting myself according to His plans, I slept peacefully that night.

When I went to Maputo two days later to apply for a new passport, I borrowed the equivalent of 80 USD for four days there. Let me put this in perspective for you. The minimum monthly salary is 100 USD and the median range is 200 to 400 USD. I stayed at a backpackers, and survived on biscuits and tap water for three days. My family had wired money to the High Commissioner of Canada office in Maputo; however, the funds would not be released to me until Jan 5th. I stayed in the dorm room most of the time because fasting seemed more bearable that way. 

My third and fourth angels came in the form of young men who enabled me to communicate with the outside world and protected me from the darkness of the city. I have always felt fortunate to share with others what I have. Now I understand how blessed are the ones who give in their "poverty". On February 19th, I exited Mozambique and arrived in a hostel in Dar-es-Salaam, Tanzania, a young man asked me, "Madam, do you have any idea how hard it is to have no money and live in Africa?". I replied, "Yes, I do."

A Tale of Four Candies

Yesterday I had a rather philosophical conversation with my young nephews. The older one, Erik, is going to be six years old in October and the younger one, Alex, is four years old. They were playing the “Super Mario Brothers” game and Erik told Alex to have patience. Alex said, “I don’t do patience and I don’t know what patience is.” I thought I would illustrate the concept to Alex by posing a question to them.

“Suppose I have four candies to give you. If you want it right this second, you can only get one candy. If you can wait twenty minutes, you can get two candies, and if you wait an hour, you will get all four candies.” To my surprise, 4-year old Alex said, “ I don’t know how long an hour is but I will wait an hour to get four candies.” I am surprised to hear this reply because we are in the age of instant gratification. Alex’s answer is somewhat unconventional, counter-intuitive and opposite to his previous statement.

What surprised me even more was Erik’s reply. He asked me how many candies I had in total. I said,’Four.’ He then said, “We will wait twenty minutes so we both get two candies each.” I commended Erik for being a good brother and showed consideration for his younger brother. Then their dad said to me, “Erik is not thinking about his brother at all. He is just optimising the wait time to get all your candies.”

I reflected on the conversation. Many a time, we forgo a great deal of possible rewards to attain instant gratification. Then there are times that we miss out on many opportunities because we illogically waited for rewards that would never materialize. I suppose the ultimate moral of this story is that we should be content with the decisions we make because life is a very good poker player.

One Tin Soldier (The Legend Of Billy Jack)

"...'Bout a kingdom, on a mountain
And the valley folk below
On the mountain was a treasure
Buried deep beneath a stone
And the valley people swore
They'd have it for their very own
... ... ...
And they killed the mountain people
So they won their just reward
Now they stood beside the treasure
On the mountain dark and red
Turn the stone and which beneath it
"Peace on Earth," was all it said."

For some strange reasons, the lyrics of this 1970's song got stuck in my head all these years. I was singing the song while doing other household tasks in the past week. I pondered about the lyrics which might sound too improbable at first. Later I could see that the fictional lyrics was actually a parody of what happened in real life. 

Greed is obviously the motivation of the valley people to kill the mountain people and claim the treasure as their own. What if these valley people investigate the rumour first, would that war still happen? Why would the valley people believe that they deserve to possess the treasure buried in the mountain, especially after killing the rightful owners? 

Seventy years ago today (August 15th, 1945), Japan announced its surrender to the Allied Forces. It was just nine days after USA had dropped a nuclear bomb in Hiroshima, For many years, Japanese troops invaded China and Korea mainly because of the resources and farm land in these countries. The Chinese and Koreans were already "sharing" their wealth with their neighbour, Japan. Yet the slaughter continued as if the Japanese appetite could never be satisfied.

The more recent example would be the American troops were being sent to Iran and Iraq to locate nuclear weapons. Perhaps these deployments could be avoided if the countries have better communications and developed trust in each other. The victims of these actions as a result of this subjective reality were in fact the citizens of both the invading and invaded countries. Just like the long lasting Palestinian/Jewish conflicts over the Holy Land, "Peace on Earth" could only be attained when the involved parties put aside their prejudice and let the tin soldier ride away.