No Secrets

There is often a single word used to describe foreigners, Europeans, or in India 'whites'. Learn it and you will know instantly whenever someone is talking about you. Children on the other hand are innocent. There are small children being pushed up and down the street in a cart chanting 'farang farang'.

Too easy

Exploring India without a smartphone was an adventure. Never knowing exactly where you are, getting directions by word of mouth. Having to learn to count in the local language. A smartphone takes the fun out of it, especially with cheap mobile data. The maps tell you where you are, where to go and when your bus has arrived at its destination. Its impossible to be truly lost with GPS. You can Google questions and necessary words in the local language. It's too easy now, there isn't any challenge, but even worse, is impossible to go back. I think I have found the solution though, go where the maps fail. Where there is no mobile signal. Where barely any speaker of a European language has described on the internet. Google maps doesn't record the islands of Ang Nam ngum, and one blog and an old tourist guide record visits. Curiously all this can be found barely 50km as the crow flies from a busy tourist spot. The law of pessimism dictates I will find another backpacker there when I arrive.

Mechanical Failures

I'm used to bus failures and roadside repairs, I've seen a Nepali bus belching black smoke fail to even make it over the boundary of the bus station, had an Indian minivan smash it's fuel tank 240km from civilisation, helped push start a south Indian bus, and suffered two buses lose tyres, but Laos is attempting to take the lead with two in three days. The first bus sprang a rather substantial leak in the radiator just a few hours in to a 13 hour journey. It's quite impressive that the driver was able to dismantle the radiator and have it running again in just over an hour. The second bus reached barely 12km beyond the starting point before it stops. It's an unscheduled stop, nothing is said. The engine starts again, it stops. Starts, stops. I can hear the distinctive sound of someone searching in a toolbox. I can smell diesel...

Its only half an hour until the cheery voice announces we're going again (in Lao). Engine rumbles, tickets rechecked, sick bags distributed. If I ever make the adventure sound glamorous, the old lady next to me is already filling hers.

Adventures

The Honda wave/dream is a hardy machine. It's driven by Thai people living in the most remote areas of the country, though often with upgrades. I've yet to kill one despite dozens of river crossings and grounding or striking just about every low part of the bike. It has enough power to climb almost any hill you'll find, though with its stiff suspension care is needed to avoid launching yourself into the air. Eventually though, the low ground clearance of a stock wave will bite you. After lifting, rocking, walking and shoving the bike over what was for several rainy seasons abandoned as a road, I start to wonder. Is this teamwork, or Johnny Cash wrecking his cars. The engine still runs, but what if I am the destroyer of rental bikes. The story ends when I return the bike.

Thailand and censorship

Many websites are blocked in Thailand. It's not overbearing, and Google is still permitted to record the existence of the blocked page. One curiosity is that many parts of the UK's daily mail are blocked. I thoroughly approve.

Thai brides

I can't not think about this, it's something that's in your face. The international couples are generally only split one way. You know the ones, old western man, much younger Thai woman. It's the kind of exploitative relationship that stories and media coverage had led me to expect. But of course it's not that so simple. Not to say awful things aren't happening, but its more complicated. For a while I'm ignoring the inevitable men who have bought a partner for sex and instead considering the couples.

It starts with spending a lot of time in a bar. The owner and her friends are all single mums, and while the father isn't totally absent from the lives of their children, it's monthly at best. 'Thai men no good' they joke. One small difference is the much older westerners are often planning to settle. (Though may eventually be absent from their children's lives for obvious reasons). It breaks the fantasy of the alternative being a perfect lifelong relationship simply because the culture is other and the imagination hadn't stretched to separation.

Its curious how they get along, with cultural and linguistic barriers. Some of the younger men who settle (late thirties or forties) have learned conversational Thai, but it seems the majority don't, even after a decade. They interact with the world through their partners, tourists still. Sometimes in the evenings two separate groups socialise in the same place, the ex-pats and the Thais, sitting interleaved. But there are other differences, the age can't be ignored. Sometimes their health seems failing and the Thai lady almost plays the part of nurse, maid and partner.

Money is the big inequality. The strongest argument is the dependence on money, would these relationships be happening without it. And it's true, when someone is relatively so much richer they can buy what they want. But this isn't completely fair on Thailand, it's not all abject poverty. I meet one woman, 44, complaining that her western boyfriend sends her barely more than a salary for sitting around in Chiang mai. She is rather displeased at the suggestion of working, though knows without a relationship this can't last forever. She says that for this business her looks will only last a couple of years. There is a small implication here, that women often work in Thailand. It actually does quite well in international comparisons of female entrepreneurs and small business ownership.

I've met two expats, one with his part Thai son, who were left by their Thai partners. I'm perhaps perverse in thinking that failure is a good sign, the more signs of free choice the better.

I'm careful to leave room for the awful things that are happening. The children forced into the industry, inequality, lack of choice. But it doesn't match what I expected to find, what could.

Candide, the optimist. But perhaps only if you know the fast show.

Sometimes things do come together rather well. I had in mind to visit, and recklessly swim in, a lake I'd spotted on google maps. The lady from the guest house was rather helpful and after warning I wouldn't find anywhere to stay, she gave me a lift to the bus station, and we arrived just as a shared taxi service was getting ready to set off, which was nice.
I did have to take a fairly expensive motorcycle sidecar from the turning on the main road, but reached the dam in one piece. And then as I was studying the board of entry fees fearing some inflated foreigner rate, the national park guard just waved me in for free, which was nice.

The houseboats were surprisingly reasonable, but indeed the accommodation in town was rather on the expensive side. I think 8 separate bungalows with a swimming pool stretches the definition of a 'homestay' just a little, perhaps in fact bordering on 'family run resort'. I stopped at a cafe, and making small talk with the locals, who had a good laugh at my attempting all this without a vehicle, they directed me to the next town and gave me a lift to the main road, which was nice.
There was a wonderful sense of adventure striding out on the road in the bright sun, but naturally after a few km, or kilos as they are known here, I began to tire. And just then, a big black pickup truck came along, and i can tell you, sitting on the back of this there was quite a breeze, which was nice.

At the next turning I was quite out of luck for the stream of pickups, the de facto Thai rural 4-wheeled vehicle, didn't slow. But checking the maps there was a 'forest park' just a kilometre up the road, and by chance just as I reached the spot a sign for a resort. I was led to a private wooden bungalow, with attached bathroom and a terrace with a wonderful position looking out from a hill over the forest, and all for a more than reasonable 200B, which was nice.

The forest park didn't seem to be anything worthwhile, but the maps indicated another feature, a waterfall. At just 3km this seemed an easy walk and pleasantly the last half of the walk was well shaded. Fearful of the Chiang Mai pricing I was well prepared to turn back at the checkpoint, you only pay 100baht to see a waterfall once, but as luck would have it the checkpoint was unmanned, and you wouldn't believe it what a wonderful waterfall it was. There was even a crystal clear spring, which was nice.

Trudging back to the village, after all the other tourists had departed, I was caught by the last of the staff, and was able to get a lift all the way back for dinner. And it was just after dinner that I remembered there was a lake in town, which I reached in time for sunset, which was nice.

Needles to say, I needed the rest. The next morning I had barely stepped out of my room when I noticed two, what I now know to be, lantern bugs, or cock's spurs translated from the Thai, which was nice.

Waiting beside the road an engineer, briefly stopping, offered me a lift to the next town and after some small confusion regarding the inclusion of breakfast, dropped me at the resort where he was staying. He even let me use his bicycle, which was nice.

And as I cycled about the large lake, for this town was at the extreme other end of the lake I first set out to visit, I encountered some women hand dyeing cotton. A lady invited me in to the large shed of looms and balls of cotton. As it turns out this was a development project, and I, the ultimate cynic regarding any claim, was able to pick up a genuinely hand dyed and woven scarf for just £3, which was nice.

And that, mother, is why you are getting a scarf this year.

Food with a lid

There is a shrimp salad served in Thailand where the lid is an essential part of the dish. You wouldn't want your lunch escaping.

Myanmar

I've been to the river a few times, just a military outpost on the other side to mark Myanmar's presence. It seems mismatched, the Thai side has a small town with a customs hut. Obama visited the country a while ago and for a while the world commented that despite some talk of democracy little had happened. Among the Karen community the story is worse, apparently the refugees are being pressured to return to Myanmar by the Thai government but arrive back with nothing. They speak of government troops shelling a Karen meeting just weeks before, Myanmar hasn't reformed, it's just open for business. I started to have these doubts months before when Myanmar kicked out Medcin Sans Frontiers, those known troublemakers dealing with the Ebola epidemic, for providing medical care to the Muslim minority. It's not ethical tourism, it's just a military backed government with allegations of rights abuses. But then I'm standing in one of those right now.

Tony Blair

The political section of the news is dictated by a government spokesman. There is no avoiding it, it's on all the channels. Its a long list of ways the government is working tirelessly for the good of the country and should probably be backed by moving music... and played in North Korea. Among the highlights of their honest endeavours to make Thailand better, a meeting with Tony Blair. On the agenda, working towards democracy. Thailand had a democracy, this group overthrew it. There must be a minimum period where such claims are treated with due contempt. A local thumps the remote control, the government is hated here.

Military uniforms

Yet another country where the ceremonial military uniforms and parades are curiously styled on the British. No idea how that could have happened.

Pick up artists

The world is not fair. This might seem like an irrelevant point to begin on, but it's at the root of all problems. Some of the unfairness can be reduced by systems we construct, but if you remember the line from the propaganda officer in the film 'enemy at the gates', not all. "In this world, even a soviet one, there will always be rich and poor". The situation he speaks of is love, but there are many others.

The idea of pick-up artists seems sick, that women can be manipulated into giving up their bodies, and that it is a skill. But it's obvious the 'artists' themselves are hateful, as are the Westboro Baptist Church, what causes concern is their popularity. (Here I have to say Magnolia is a great film, with a good performance by Tom Cruise as a pick up artist with a hidden history.)

The popularity is a necessary part of the trade. Pick-up artists make money from what they do, from followers, so what they say must appeal to some people. The question is why. As a side note it also raises the possibility that they don't in fact believe in what they say and are simply taking money from desperate men (whilst spreading dangerous ideas). Much as the profitability of evangelical preaching casts doubts on the true belief of the preachers, or equally the honesty of a man who sells tips on horses. Where speaking words is remunerated, it raises the possibility these words are spoken without belief. I once read in shock an anti-scientific 'article' suggesting Ebola was a conspiracy by the vaccine industry. But following the article to it's source I noticed that the website had an abundance of adverts targeting suggestible people. I realised there was no point asking if the author actually believed the text, dangerous in encouraging anti-vaccine sentiment, as it was profitable to bring in readers. It's harder to argue with someone who doesn't believe what they say!

But, whether true believers or merely amoral motivational speakers, people pay for their lessons. Who? Let's assume men who match the following
They have no success with women, or perceive that they have less success than others are having
Its possible there are 'successful' men who simply want more, I wouldn't want to leave alternatives to my assumption unmentioned.

The first response, as others have written, is that they are making a mistake. They have chosen the wrong solution to remedy their position. Women don't exist to serve them, they aren't owed sex, they need to start treating women as free human beings. Women are not a homogenous group that has slighted them, but independent free individuals. Perhaps that they need to change themselves to become desirable, instead of relying on deception. The 'friend zone' is simply a typically male construct to justify hatred towards women who don't return 'friendship' with sex. Where there is the anger at not being seen as a potential partner, there should be acceptance.

But, suppose they begin to treat women as human beings, what if they are still rejected. Here is the point: sexual selection is 'unfair'. To clarify what I mean by fairness, that we are not born with equal opportunity to attract a partner, or the partner that we desire. Outside of Disney movies love is not destined, appearance and perhaps innate personality are factors. I'd like to think the importance of superficial traits is something that greatly reduces with thought and consideration, but can anyone say that their selection of partners was completely free of physical attraction. After all, we're talking about sexual partners, a biological drive, not our platonic friends.

An old wisdom is that everyone is different, and perhaps that there is someone for everyone. It seems reasonable that each person's desires are different, but different does not mean uncorrelated, or specifically matching the distribution of available traits. You might think of the issue of body size, where yes, contrary to the homogenised ideal of the media, some men like curves. And when curvy was the ideal, some men liked skinny. But what about something subtle, good skin, or facial symmetry. To use the most dangerous phrase in ill informed blogging, 'studies have shown that' facial symmetry is important in attraction. Height in men is also correlated with first impression attractiveness. I've chosen these two examples because they are reasonably accepted, as statistical trends not hard and fast rules, whether your friend Jane happens to like short men or not. It's easy for us to see that peacock with fewer eyes is less attractive to potential partners, but do we apply the same to humans. Simply because the brain is a measure of fitness does not mean we've escaped selection.

In short, I've tried to demonstrate that it is possible to be physically less attractive, and that this isn't explained away by 'everyone is different'. Even if we each had a match who we found desirable, we are jealous and competitive beings, and it would never be equal. But isn't this obvious? Well what if there is a systematic tendency by the attractive, where I include myself, because attractive in this case means able to attract the partner they desire, to dismiss the plight of the less attractive. We would feel better about our own achievement if it wasn't simply something we were born with, and wouldn't have to imagine the suffering of others. Why should someone 'ugly' have any less drive to find a partner, but none of the success. If you don't believe this, why is desperation so frightening to see?

Perhaps I was started into this way of thinking by a documentary following a number of disabled people. The father of one man took him to a brothel once yearly, so he could experience what he was missing. I don't want to start on the issue of prostitution, but isn't there an acceptance in this act of his position regarding sexual selection. The people at the bottom may resort to less pleasant actions. Men who pay for sex, or training in the hope deceit can get them what they feel they lack, women who pay for cosmetic surgery, turn to anorexia, suffer body hatred, competing with the attractiveness of others. People who are deprived of what others enjoy.

This is an exaggeration, but if it exists, what does it mean. Well, sadly that pick up artists and diet book pedlars will always have a target market. That you can't pretend that for these people everything will be alright if they respect themselves and the opposite sex. That expecting these people to be content constitutes a form of denial, but with the note that understanding motivations doesn't imply justification or support.

In some ways the problem arises because partners are symbols of success. Try and picture someone successful, they are probably also attractive? If we want to lower the pressure we need to decouple the ideas of personal success and having a partner or sexual success. To reduce the sensation that everyone else is having more success, that we are liable to feel. To challenge the ideas of the normality of finding a partner. For the happy couples not to boast their joy. What if simply promoting your joy can reduce someone else's.

Of course it isn't all perception, loneliness exists. We can hope the less often selected find deep and meaningful relationships, perhaps in being lost something stronger. But never pretend life is fair. Never say there is someone for everyone. And if you are so smart that your matching algorithm has succeeded for all humanity I'm very curious to know how you've matched up India and China's 30 million (each) surplus men.

On a more serious note

Here its acceptable to take from a shared plate with your spoon. This is a big contrast to India where things which touch the lips are considered dirty, while the hands are considered clean. I hope this is the last comparison I make between the two countries, anything more could develop into an abhorrent attack on culture. Its worth explaining before I continue that I don't consider culture, the ways and thinking of a group of people, to be sacred. I see culture not as belonging to people but people belong to cultures, into which they were born without choice, even if they choose to defend it. Culture develops with time, it can change without a sense of sadness over its 'loss'. People should not be condemned to live as museum exhibits. Giving women more respect and status costs nothing, but it can make life so much better.

Best kept secret

If it's got 174 reviews on TripAdvisor I don't see how you can call it anything but a poorly kept secret.

Locally extinct

Despite my normal bias towards conservation, as I walk alone along the forest roads I've never been so glad that tigers are locally extinct. It doesn't stop me starting each time I hear a rustle in the undergrowth.

Internet point

There is a mound at the top of the village, if I stand on it I can get mobile data.

Briefly staying in a school teachers rest house, it's not exactly glamorous, but they get by. Quite a few boxes of Hong Thong whiskey strewn about, I guess that's international.

The biggest scam of all

Is right where you begin. Travel insurance is essentially the business of misleading people into thinking that they might be covered should something happen, at least for policies sold in the UK. We're all familiar with the idea that insurance comes with a big list of terms and conditions, and its always this way. Don't let that trick you into thinking that the terms are reasonable.

So let's consider a case: for my first trip I selected HolidaySafe backpacker travel insurance. With cover extendable up to 18months it seemed perfect, but in reality under the terms I was never actually covered. The problem term: you must be able to show intent to return home, primarily by a booked return flight. This exclusion is common to many backpacker policies, as the policies do not cover people who are emigrating, but what if you are not able to prove your intent to return home? As a backpacker its extremely unlikely that you will want to fix your return flight 18 months away, let alone all the intermediate flights. This leaves you searching for other proofs of intent, which I have had to email at least one company to have clarified. I'm slightly suspicious that this list of proofs does not appear in the terms of the contract, and is provided separately by some insurers. Common alternatives are a university place (if you have one, which could potentially be deferred for over 12 months), a job offer (deferred for 18 months?) a doctors appointment (deferred for 18 months? very unlucky), a Wedding Invite (if you have one, on the list for my latest insurer). None of these matched my first travel, though I am now equipped with both a wedding invite and doctors appointment to satisfy my latest policy.
(Update: I initially suggested proof of intent to return for the HolidaySafe policy was only by a booked return flight, as I inferred from the website and claims form at the time, a useful list of what you will be asked to provide, however HolidaySafe suggest they too accept other forms of proof of intent to return home, and possibly one that would have applied in my case, that is 'holding a UK bank account' see comments).

World nomads are noteworthy for avoiding this term, however this leads me onto my second complaint, weasel terms. If insurance is supposed to be a safety net would you choose one with holes in it. World nomads present UK underwriter doesn't insure trips where motorbikes are the main form of transport. What is the main form of transport? I'd say that by number of kilometres its aircraft but do you want to take the chance that the insurance company says otherwise. That they say it was motorbike because you had hired one for your whole time in town.

Many motorbike terms are understandble, you must wear a helmet and have a UK licence. I'm sure you have heard stories about how easy it is to get a local licence, I can understand that one. But wait, if a passenger, the driver must have a UK license. How many Thai or Indian riders, who are probably more experienced at the roads, have this. How many tourists understand they are not covered to use the registered motorcycle taxis of Bangkok in their fluorescent bibs, or of Goa. Even if their local friend has a spare helmet there is no cover, this small term borders on misleading.

It gets worse. Motorcycle cover of course only covers legal behaviour, but wait, what is legal. Does the fact that there is almost certainly no correct vehicle insurance make any bike hired in India illegal. If you made a mistake at the junction where you crashed you were probably driving illegally. If the country you are in legally requires an international diving permit (really a meaningless translation with a stamp) but has informally decided not to enforce this are you driving legally.

Then there is the question of alcohol. Who on holiday doesn't have a drink in the evening, and by the wording of the contract is then subject to reduced levels of cover. At first this sounds reasonable, until you read about the people accused by their insurer of drinking. Best not to get hit by a car in the evening in a town with a bar, and never have more than one beer. Because who knows what level of alcohol they say is diminished responsibility, the low driving limit might sound like a yardstick in court. As a fairer Australian company said in their FAQ, its relative. But if they pay half of bills which are 10 times what you can pay, you're still up a murky creek.

God forbid you have a disaster on holiday. Insurance policies most definitely do not cover disasters, or terrorism. Why did you buy insurance, well if like me you read the fine print you certainly weren't protecting yourself against the worst. There is a small catch here that sometimes your government will handle repatriation in the case of disasters, but isn't terrorism, something we've been told exists and that our government definitely needs powers to prevent, something you'd want to insure against. This exemption sounds like a joke, but it isn't.

My policy only covers care in state or government hospitals. In some countries government hospitals will refuse foreign patients. The policy covers this case by saying 'be insistent'. I can see how this one resolves, in intense pain the tourist abandons negotiations and arranges the deposit for a private hospital.

But let's say you claim, well, who are you talking to. The sales company is always a reseller for an underwriter. But in an emergency you contact the emergency assistance company, and after the claims company. The claims limitations company deals with the hospital. While I know specialisation yields results I start to become suspicious, is the seller responsible for all stages? This battle, as I have heard it can be, to get an insurer to pay for anything, comes when you will be least able to cope.

This isn't just hypothetical. A British holidaymaker in Turkey broke his neck diving into shallow water. According to his insurer this was reckless, and he wasn't covered. His family and employer were left to try and raise 100,000 GBP for bills and repatriation. Part of me wonders, and what if they failed. Has anyone been left to die through these games. It's worth noting that a reckless term is common, and that a lot of things which seem reasonable at the time could be reckless when told by your insurer. Is the path you are walking on a path or 'an unmarked rocky track on the hills behind your guesthouse'.

So here is the question, what would it take to get an insurance policy that actually insures you against medical expenses and repatriation. Insurers tell you that you should behave as you were uninsured. Here is the problem, it implies they believe people are responsible for accidents. Nobody wants to get hit by a car, I'm quite sure it really hurts without trying it. Has anyone said, you know what, I'll jump in front of that car, what the hell I've got insurance. Does anyone want to be paralysed in 1-4 limbs?

But if we're playing the spin game, insurance companies are preying on the weak, who are less able to determine the extent and therefore value of their cover. I'm one of the weak I've lost money to a company because I missed a term on the contract. (Considering the product then had no value to me). But I'm also a know it all, and I can see the solution. Just as for housing there are standard contracts, a standard insurance contract published by the government as an optional base for companies to follow.

The question is, how much more would real insurance cost. What if you challenge the very idea of having terms and exclusions for the most serious cover. The answer is, probably less than the worst case estimate.  In the united states they have recently had this situation with the creation of a state standard medical insurance. The quotes were lower than expected given that the target market was the previously uninsured. Travel insurance now is ridiculously cheap, which should give you a clue that their paying for anything is legally optional. There is scope for it to rise several fold and still be acceptable, especially given the question: do you want to put family members in the position where they have to choose between selling their home and leaving you to your fate.

For your amusement, my bonus to patient readers is a selection of people who are on my list. Judge for yourself the merits of being 'on the list'.
1. People who review insurance companies based on how easily they took the money without having claimed on the product.
2. The person who gave a positive review to a battery because it 'charged quickly'. A battery is a lot like a bucket, the electricity is water going into it. I have a few 'instant fill' buckets I could sell this guy from a sewing kit.
3. Feminists who use the gender derogatory term 'mansplaining', to categorise and dismiss the unpleasant reactionary opinions of, clearly male, opponents.

It's been discovered.

What does it mean for a spot to be discovered. It's a theme I have covered before, tourists are a group who in certain situations hate to be around each other.

Perhaps this can be described using a wonderfully torturous analogy with the concept of critical mass (slightly more geeky readers may prefer the better analogy of the instability of large nuclei). At lower masses attractive forces dominate and tourists gather together to exchange Higgs Bosons, Gluons and perhaps a few travelling stories. Past a certain critical mass however, some of the tourists become agitated by the density of tourists. It's as if in each direction the mean free path terminates with another tourist and the local culture is no longer visible. Energetic adventurous tourist neutrons then collide repeatedly with their blogs before they fly off and irradiate the surrounding country in search of fertile nuclei. Here they can share their tales, mostly cliché relating to the 'overrun' (depleted) state of the town they've just left, and may induce such adventurous states in other travelers.

Sorry, if you're not big on physics you were probably happy to use the phrase critical mass without any indulgence. If you are, then stop explaining the flaws in the analogy to your computer screen that isn't listening.

Still, I like to think there is more to it than a bunch of pretentious clichés who can't see themselves as one of the crowd. Myself I see three alternative reasons, the depersonalisation of large groups, the different types of tourist, and the chosen illusion of adventure.

The first point is closely related to a question I asked this free spirit some time ago:
 http://wishfortherainbow.wordpress.com/. Can people ever be happy living in cities. There seems to be a rule that the fewer people the closer the relationships which form. The example is quite simple, if only two people lived in a town you would think it strange if they did not know each other very well. The same goes for tourists, if you ignore the apparent transparency of the local population. If there are only two tourists in town the chances are you will talk. But what if the town grows. Well then you have a community, and this in the historical fantasy is the natural state of a bygone small village. Everyone just about knows the other residents, and can interact with them as individuals. But if you grow even more the change is disproportionate. At the point it becomes unlikely that we will see a person again we just don't bother knowing anyone. People become their relationship to you: customers, commuters, crowds. What incentive is there to get to know someone you are unlikely to see again. The London effect develops. You can smile and be polite but for god's sake never talk to a stranger. Instead of knowing a subset of the whole we know nobody beyond a small pool of friends. This is the oft lamented loss of 'communities'. The same effect occurs with tourists, as the numbers grow it becomes harder to interact. We see others as members of the crowd.

Tourists are not homogeneous, and the different styles of travel add to the friction. For some the illusion of adventure is spoiled by the arrival of crowds following a standard route. A simple reason for 'discovery' is the addition of a place to the guidebook, although this can also happen when it spreads by word of too-many-mouths. However it's not as simple as an us and them division, there are many shades of adventure, and we each have to recognise that we're just part of the spread. While I may avoid package and piecewise package (organised activities but independent travel) I'm not myself adventurous. I stick to countries which are themselves distinctly on the beaten trail and largely interact with established businesses. There is also a separate spectrum of the level of cultural respect different tourists show. Again divisive, though again I hope I lie somewhere in the middle. Perhaps I should avoid this one given my ideological disagreement with sacred status of the concept of preservation of culture.

To return to the main point, the adventure is an illusion. In a country which accepts vast numbers of tourists with open arms you must accept this. But it's an illusion that you can enjoy. You know there have been others before you, but without hearing about them in graphic detail it need not spoil the fun. If there is no official tourist map with 'the sights to see' marked on it you can explore again just as the first. If there are too many tourists or the going has become too easy, the illusion is broken. It's business now.

As a bonus to any diligent readers, taking bets on the first mosquitoe borne disease I catch first. The key runners are malaria and dengue fever, but I'll include sandflies to widen the field.

Money doesn't grow on trees, unless.

Money doesn't grow on trees, unless you push this thing in-front of a bus station full of Thai Buddhists, flanked by uniformed guards. I've seen similar 'money trees' before on the walls of houses in Ladakh (Tibetan Buddhists), but this seemed to be more of an organised collection. Other bus station curiosities involved the entire bus station standing for the national anthem and tribute to the King, played over the address system. But I don't stand for hereditary power, anyone truly deserving of this position would give it to the people, and so the Dalai Lama did.

The Bangkok Butterfly Garden

has butterflies, and is free. It's inside the Wachira Benjathat Park which is near the 'Mochit 2' northern bus terminal in Bangkok. Though if you're approaching from this side you do have to find a footbridge over the main road, cross a construction site and jump a fence. It seems to work, despite the ample security cameras and uniformed guards nobody has challenged me. It's a curiously high level of security for a park. If you're sat around in the bus station and its about mid-day except Mondays this is definitely a better place to wait. You might see the monitor lizards roaming freely in the park

Feels a bit like shooting butterflies in a cage

The idiot returns

Wearing familiar heavy cotton shorts, short sleeve shirt, familiar backpacks at my feet, muggy air flowing over me in the familiar well ventilated non-ac bus with its worn wooden floor. But this isn't India, its Thailand. I could list the many ways Bangkok is more advanced, this bus is probably one of the oldest designs in the street, but at first glance you could mistake the two. The bus journey cost 13p. My plans: vague, head north. The idiot has returned.

Meanwhile in the land where democracy was born

The boxes of eggs in the supermarket all have the same special offer boldy printed: '5+1'. Don't you remember those days when you used to go and buy packs of 5 eggs, and at the end of the week you would have to make a sad-looking one-egg omelette. Problem solved, super economicos.

The traveler returns

After a brief trip through the best organised parts of India, I am back in England. Both the road to Indira Gandhi International and the airport itself are smart and efficient; foreign travellers aren't even required to complete an exit form any more, depriving them of this last dose of paperwork. This should be home, I am no longer a traveller, and with this it feels that my weak self-justification for writing has now disappeared. I could cite examples of great writers who have used this transition to see with fresh eyes, perhaps George Orwell or Aldous Huxley, but I'd sicken myself with the pretentious connection to greatness. Now I am in England, I am just one of the thousands of people shouting their own opinions about every-day events as loud as they can to anyone who will listen.

I didn't remember this much drinking in the streets. I did remember the deliberately-loud pseudo down-and-outs who frequented the parks and drank. This group, I feel, are acting a part. But this is about the only direct observation I can make on England, London at least. To talk about politics becomes abstract and media informed. Still, it's impossible not to be covered by the waves of politics after the council and Euro elections. Politics is full of complex culturally-weighted terms, but engineers see a far simpler world of systems which need to be fixed. UKIP stand against the influence of Brussels, so now a greater number of their representatives will inhabit Brussels (and Strasbourg, because the French government will waste money for their own vanity). But this anti-Europe sentiment isn't limited to the UK. The nationalist, far right, and anti-Europe parties, have been successful in many countries. In effect these parties, which find the control of Brussels so disagreeable, are in agreement. As these parties now form part of this parliament, it's decisions must be less disagreeable. In effect this diminishes UKIP's entire reason for being, it's strange how democracy works, when we stop considering dem foreigners as different to ourselves. If so many countries have turned on Europe in a time of economic weakness and rising anti-immigration sentiment, this is as strong a demonstration of common European mood as there ever was.

In England, the unions make the point best of all. No level of benefit cuts can press, by means of the stick, 2.2 million unemployed (March) into 650,000 vacant jobs (last year, UKCES), 146,000 of which are due to a shortage of skills. Any system where a man through no fault of his own is left idle must be considered unfair. Unemployment benefits, or as branded 'job-seekers allowance, are viewed as a temporary solution; but what if the consequence of economic development is efficiency and automation which continually decreases the need for unskilled labour. At the very least, recessions seem sufficiently frequent to appear inevitable. This surplus pool of labour must suffer unless the government takes the required ultimate step, not a guarantee of an unearned 'living dividend', but a guarantee of employment or training. All debates around the idleness of benefit claimants, and even responding to these, are designed to divert attention from this inevitable duty. Even with the admission by the Tory pretension to disinterest, 'Policy Exchange', that to encourage people into work the minimum wage might have to rise to 'make work pay', and not just cut benefits, avoids dealing with the mismatch. How could a government find employment for these people? The Cuban government loaned employees to private companies at fixed government wages. As a socialist capitalist this level of government control sounds a frightening idea, but what if it is in fact inevitable, even if differently named (Because in politics a shovel must be a self-empowering job-facilitator). If employment can't be found for unskilled labour which could pay sufficiently to meet the minimum wage, or better a living wage, then there are only two options: training or subsidy. In effect governments have chosen a mixture of denial and acceptance. Training without acknowledging this as a right, and short of what the CBI claims is required, and without human development of living standards which might be necessary for people in poverty to develop. And small steps which don't acknowledge the final goal. The conned libs have stated an aim to raise the minimum tax payment threshold, which reduces the tax burden, bringing the cost of a low paid employee and the money they receive slightly closer together. If, providing national insurance and income tax are merged, this threshold can be brought up to the minimum wage, then the government will have solved half of the problem (if the artificially separated 'employer contributions' are included in this merger). At this point the cost of an employee is only the living wage they need to receive. The next step is only significant artificially on the basis of the sign, when the government has to apply a positive subsidy to employment. The effect of this is to provide a wage closer to the living cost, without raising the obligations of companies and giving the incentive for further efficiency. I don't claim to know how far the cost of an employee would have to fall to achieve full employment, or whether Britain is already part of international agreements which prohibit subsidised labour, preserving the sacred free market system. Both Labour and the Conned Libs have attempted to decrease the importance of one of Britain's existing state-labour generators for disabled persons, Remploy. The idea of a state owned employer-of-last-resort seems unpopular, why? Am I alone in believing there are people who will never have anything to offer private industry.

There are of course other options, I'm not an economist. Perhaps the economy will again grow to full employment, and a solution will be found which prevents future recessions. (I would then argue that the minimum wage should be linked to the absolute GDP, to really make growth inclusive). A shorter working week is sometimes suggested, which according to the proponents would increase the demand for workers to achieve the same output and solve the supply and demand problem. I would love to live in a world where rising productivity results in greater free time, for holidays, or to leave work earlier. But in a way, this strategy has already been considered. The EU mandated the maximum number of hours in a working week, but we have each added exceptions to the point where excepting from this rule is a formality. They have reason, unless any strategy to improve working conditions is global it fails in the race-to-the-bottom world of competition.

The animated TV series Futurama deals with the subject best, on the improvements in efficiency introduced by a bureaucrat in a forced labour camp. In this case unemployment thankfully resulted in release of the characters, a far cry from our world.

"My Hermes got that hellhole running so efficiently that all the physical labor is now done by a single Australian man"

Myself

I get excited when I see parts of my own nature described in books, as if this counts as proof that the thoughts I suffer are not unique. As it turns out I have found myself in books rarely read, and I am scarcely more able to describe myself to others. On discovering the despicable character of Gordon Comstock,  the centre of George Orwell's 'Keep the Aspidistra Flying', I fancied I saw too much of myself. This is a man who is trapped in a self-inflicted world of middle class poverty, resenting the world dominated by money, and treating his friends and girlfriend awfully. I'll keep it in my library of books to recommend, for this reason, and it's description of the suppression of creativity by a certain type of working life. But perhaps, I am part another foolish fool. The romantic, but clueless, Alyosha, from Fyodor Dostoyevsky's 'The Insulted and Humiliated'. This fool spreads suffering through his fanciful idealism and belief that everyone should ultimately love each other and get along. He is perhaps some sort of male Catherine Linton, with politics not far from my own.

One cup of scams, then I'll go

Also in the news: 'India Today' - "how to get 'brighter' skin in 10 minutes". Single quotes around 'brighter' added for effect. Picture, naturally, is of a woman.

The elections are nearly over; it looks like Modi is going to win. I can hear a BJP spokesperson loudly proclaiming that the party won't promote religious fanaticism, and will represent all Indians. I wont pretend to know the history of Indian politics, but I can see enough to know I don't like it. Narendra Modi is championing 'economic development', combined through his party alliances with Hindu nationalism. He champions his apparent success in Gujurat, not in reducing poverty [1,2,3], but in encouraging business. Who doesn't want to be rich, and have a higher GDP, even if this is not equally distributed. When people talk about economic growth they picture themselves richer, but the results don't always follow the imagination. In the West economic growth in the last 40 years has disproportionately benefited those earning above the median wage, there is a very important graph to see on this if you haven't seen it before [4,5]. The incumbent Congress, with a reputation destroyed by a history of corruption scandals, and Indian racism, didn't really stand a chance. (Some of the corruption is so notorious it has even become modern art, I remember one multimedia piece in the National Gallery of Modern Art (Delhi) based on the Radia tapes of the India 2G spectrum scandal). It's populist schemes aimed at the rural poor were in the end dogged by corruption, even if with good intent. But many Indian's will gladly tell you the big secret why Congress is so terrible is that Sonia Gandhi was not even Indian, she was born Italian! Apparently European girls are only the most precious objects when they are young and pretty (see 6).

Rahul Gandhi has clearly failed to sell the same policies which won the last election. Many of the schemes initiated or continued under Congress could be dismissed as influence buying, but they had real results. One, which is on display frequently in Meghalaya is MGNREGS. The Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Scheme, which allocates 100 days of paid work every year to one person in each household in rural areas. To find something to do in the jungle this scheme seems to be primarily involved with constructing community halls (which are too small), and concrete steps between the villages. While the original stone steps through the forest were beautiful and romantic, sadly I understand they were nearly unwalkable in the rainy season and the welfare of the local people is at stake. The other visible schemes are heavily subsidised rice, rural health and empowerment schemes.

Modi recently gave a speech in Varanasi. This was a wave to Hindus, it couldn't be more so, landing at a Hindu university, surrounded by Hindu figures, in a city holy to the Hindus. Among his promises of restoring the city to greatness (a bit too dramatic), and including a hedge of promising to help the cities Muslim weavers, was to increase tourism (through some unclear effect). While I can't argue that cleaning the Ganga is a great goal, what infrastructure benefits tourism? I haven't been to Varanasi, but I have heard that what it is, reportedly crowded, chaotic and dirty, contributes to the effect. Still, people have to live in this place, I don't condemn people to live in a museum, but myself I get a very hollow effect. I will make you rich, and you, and you are not forgotten either. Glory to the Hindu, cough I mean, Indian state.

I hear some business owners in Tapovan (Rishikesh) talking about Modi. Maybe they can get richer now the economy is the prime focus. These are the same people breaking the law by charging over MRP (Maximum Retail Price) (it seems that this scam is particularly concentrated on Rishikesh), perhaps instead they will be the ones squeezed. Perhaps instead of fighting high level corruption (AAP fought entirely on this stand) advancement means more inspectors to enforce the Indian act on Standards and Measures which mandates an MRP. Again the superficial denial is present, who is being kidded by a scratched off MRP, at a roadside cafe on the way back to Delhi. Denial is painful. Who asks, am I part of what destroys the country. India is Great. How do I get into your country?

Notes:
Some stories on poverty reduction, taking their numbers from other sources. It's worth noting that 'poverty' as it is defined in India is far worse than poverty, it is abject poverty. The poverty line is set so low that it could be misleading to use this as a measure of progress. The goal should be more than a plate of rice and the 0.1GBP to pay for a consultation at a government hospital.
1 http://www.indiaspend.com/states/west/deciphering-the-gujarat-growth-paradigm
2 http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/ahmedabad/Faster-growth-not-leading-to-fast-poverty-reduction-Study/articleshow/16961096.cms
3 http://www.theweekendleader.com/Headlines/2103/tamil-nadu-has-outperformed-gujarat:-study.html

The wiki is worth reading for this image which perfectly illustrates the concept:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Productivity_and_Real_Median_Family_Income_Growth_1947-2009.png
The full article on wikipedia for the United States.
4 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Income_inequality_in_the_United_States
A more complicated report which tracks the correlation between GDP and wage growth over multiple countries, principally related to the UK.
5 http://www.resolutionfoundation.org/media/media/downloads/Painful_Separation_1.pdf

6 This frustrated outburst is triggered by the standards of beauty held by too many people in India. White girls are admired for the superficial fact that they are white, and to many people considered beautiful. "You're so beautiful", or something similar, I've overheard before now. I had an awkward responding conversation with a man on a train, I think I understand it as follows. You see my wife, what colour is my wife. See she is dark. In Europe, the women are white, yes... at first this might seem a trivial comment, but his skin matches that of his wife, why does he ask about his wife?

India Travel

Sometimes in India you need to learn the local terminology just to get around, each route seems to have it's own favoured vehicle. A taxi is fairly unambiguous, but without the right word other methods of travel are unintelligible. For example, a 'jeep' (manufacturer Mahindra) as it is known in most of India, is replaced by a 'Sumo' (manufacturer Tata) in Meghalaya. A 'ricksha' is a 'tuktuk', and if petrol powered is strictly an autorickshaw, leading to the esoteric Andhra shortened name of 'auto'. The overgrown rickshaws used as small bus services go sometimes by the name 'Tempo' or alternatively 'Vikram'. A passenger train is a painfully slow method of transport, a 'mail train' is the way to travel. A bus could mean a minibus, or a delux government bus. But if it is no longer painful to ride it ceases to be a bus and becomes a Volvo.

A design for life

Haven't most people at some time looked at the back of an electronic product or manual and seen the FCC compliance statement.

"Operation is subject to the following two conditions: (1) this device may not cause harmful interference, and (2) this device must accept any interference received, including interference that may cause undesired operation."

This helps translates abstract concepts such as morality into a form that engineers can comprehend. I find it far snapper than the similar sentiment expressed in the Lord's prayer.

"And Forgive us Our Trespasses, as we Forgive those who Trespass against Us"

As an atheist engineer it warms me that such a statement of philosophy, independent of religion, should persist hidden in plain sight after the bibles have largely disappeared.

The couple opposite

A cockroach walks over the floor of the train carriage, pausing to inspect the plastic-jewel encrusted shoe of the woman in black. I presume she is the wife of the man sitting beside her, but I see little love. She is wearing black, with a black scarf over her head, but it's not a dark garment. The scarf and dress are embroidered with lines of beads and flowers. She wears bracelets and anklets and an expression of defiant resentment, staring ahead at the children of the Hindu family opposite and responding to her husband without looking. When she wants something from the bag beneath the bench she is pushed back into place by her husband without a word. This gets my attention and I stare intently at the man but he wont acknowledge my gaze. She isn't allowed to go to the bathroom alone, and when necessary receives a sharp push. The husband has a black thread tied around the big toe of his right foot. There is nothing in his appearance to tie him to any religion, he is but one of the legion of Indian men wearing a check-pattern shirt and grey trousers. His moustache is short but present and his rough chin is covered with a few days stubble. He looks older than the wife, probably over 40. The wife is harder to place, she could be 30, but I suspect she has aged in fewer years. His dark skin shines in the light, it's nearly 40C and at times the train stops and the air is still. I hope he waters her well.
But he doesn't. Later, when the train briefly halts at nowhere, the vendor from the sleeper-class coaches climbs into general with bottles of cold water. The man buys a bottle, and instead of drinking water poured from a bottle held above his lips, as is the Indian custom, he takes a small metal cup from his bag. He fills the cup, and drinks it slowly. The wife is watching, he pours another glass, and drinks this. A few minutes pass, he packs the cup away. His wife picks up the bottle, but he takes this away from her with a sharp movement and places it back on the seat. The wife doesn't struggle, it's some form of communication, implicit, a routine. He gets up and walks towards the doorway, pausing at the open door to the general coach as the train rumbles along. The wife takes the bottle and begins to drink, encouraged by the Hindu family. He is watching but doesn't react. She drinks about a third of a litre. In this way one trains a dog to understand the master.
I think she feels ashamed, she looks older now. She is still watching the noisy brightly coloured Hindu wives and children. She might be Hindu herself, but without the brilliant clothing it appears as a very different religion. South Indian Hindus cast menstruating women out of houses, temples or food places with a greater warmth than this man eventually allows his wife when she leans her head on his shoulder.

Khasi fooding

The small Khasi restaurants have their own food delicacies including pig brains, intestines and blood rice. You'll have to imagine these yourself as it's not my sort of thing, but to me it suggests that little is wasted in the jungle. Frogs, the Khasi divide into two classes, 'edible' and 'non-edible'. On asking about whether the Khasi people like to eat monkey, they inform me that there are no monkeys here. I'll take that as a yes.

Expletive deleted

At times crowds of children gather to watch cartoons on the television at the homestay. Variations of the classics are popular, including 'Power Rangers' and 'Tom and Jerry' spin offs, as are a number of Hindi cartoons. One Hindi cartoon in particular is set in a fantasy world inspired by a mixture of Hindu religion and historical India, populated by descendants of gods (blue), boys and princes (tan), and girls (white). It begins in childhood, girls, if you aren't white, you will never be popular, successful or attractive. The voice in my mind is screaming expletives from a mountain-top.

Gender balance

The Khasi proudly claim to follow matriarchal traditions, and after 'India proper' anything which empowers women is something to be proud of. The common examples given are both the insignificant use of the woman's family name and the significant allocation of property among daughters. However doubts start to appear, the notices informing people not to drop litter, wash in certain streams and so on are by order of the village headman. I check, and this is no accidental use of a gendered term. The head of the village is a man, and decisions, decisions are made by a committee of men. But the individual traditions in the society don't give the full impression, women seem freer. As in the developed parts of Nepal, they can wear t-shirts and makeup without being harassed. Men and women can interact freely, choose their partners in marriage, and the gender ratio for the state is far closer to balanced than India as a whole.

Nongriat

Nongriat doesn't have road access, and is only reachable via 2400 steps, 45 minutes for even the fittest determined walkers and several hours for some of the less able. The big question on arriving is "What about the full size fridge-freezer". This it turns out was carried down by the guest house owner's father, age 70. It no longer feels like such an accomplishment to reach the village. It's a beautiful spot, largely unspoiled forest crossed by streams, waterfalls and stone-laid jungle paths. The measure of this beauty is that foreign tourists spontaneously regain the urge to pick up the few pieces of litter on the jungle walks, a habit long forgotten in the filth of India.

A bit damp up here

I'm trying to dry my clothes in the wettest place on Earth*.

*Not the wettest place on Earth, despite the slightly rusted signs informing you of this. But at least this time the local people will tell that due to changing weather patterns the title for highest annual rainfall has been lost to somewhere in Colombia. It's not even the wettest spot in the state. Still, I have now both driven 'the highest motorable road' which isn't the highest motorable road, and visited the wettest place on Earth, which isn't, both in India.

First you must laugh

I emerge from the cave covered in dirt. I've been wriggling flat on my belly through the deepest parts of the cave, where every rock is covered with a thick layer of brown mud. It isn't simply my clothes, the top of my bald head is streaked with muddy smears, and my bags are earth decorated. As I proudly walk the 6km back to town, past the crowds of some full fifty workmen turning this impressive cave into an unimpressive tourist attraction, I get many smiles at my appearance. Apparently the future tourists wont be interested in the cave unless there is lots of concrete, with this cave featuring some special concrete forms, the concrete barriers on the path are shaped like caricature tree logs. I feel there is some doublethink involved in creating concrete structures camouflaged, and failing from the very beginning, to look like renewable natural materials. The smiles continue after I reach the main road, the air is light. As in Nepal the people here know life, they can laugh with warmth. I'm happy to play the comic travelling idiot I wouldn't have it any other way.

I hate people who want to ban everything, there should be a law against that sort of thing (anon)

We've done it for tobacco, but seeing alcohol advertisements in a country which has a problem with alcohol, it's painful. Cricket sponsored by McDowell's. TV advertisements for 'Signature' whiskey, with all the images of class and success (a man in a suit at a black tie evening with a pretty women on his arm), that Indians, and everyone, aspire to. Billboards advertising McDowell's mineral water, to reinforce the brand (I've actually seen McDowells mineral water before, it does exist). I love alcohol, and unfairly to this debate my favourite ales don't exactly rely much on promotion, but it's time.

Of course I'm curious about the implementation of the 1989 regulation for alcohol advertising courtesy of the EU. On alcohol advertising:

'it shall not create the impression that the consumption of alcohol contributes towards social or sexual success;'

A cup of tea

Visiting a bakery and cafe in Shillong I chuckle that it's styled on a chain, but is given away as a small business by clues around the edges. It's simply the contrast which tickles me, now the trendy types have come full circle to value 'Independent' shops. But by far their greatest and most damning failure was their refusal to make me a cup of milk tea. Accepting that I have offended the 'no milk' purists, I was simply looking for a nice warm drink. The bakery clearly had milk available, having a wide range of milk coffees. But this small cafe is emulating a chain, and so must be staffed by powerless drones. Tea, damn it!

Fears

Perhaps as a person I am revealed by my nightmares. One is humanity as a vast seething mass of people trying to climb over each other to create their own pile of dirt from the same shared field. That our animal instinct compares success only against others and that the shared accomplishments are purely incidental.

To all my readers in Greece

Serena, barely anything I write is worth reading. You would find so much more in 'War and Peace' than you ever will in this blog.

Essential English words

Sometimes I teach foreigners the really important words in English, such as 'cringe' and 'seedy'. It's enough to know that I consider this necessary vocabulary in my descriptions.

The exclamatory atheist

This has probably been covered to death by wittier persons than myself, but what do atheists say in a crisis. It's a thought that re-entered my mind after the full volume "Jesus Christ" I emitted after stepping a rock surrounded by a 1.5m long brown snake. The snake was startled and quickly disappeared into the jungle, and sadly I was unable to find it again for photographs. This train of thought is not original, it begins with 'South Park' and their attack on the extremist atheism of Richard Dawkins. In this parody of religion, the cry becomes "Oh my science". It's also crossed my mind when English speaking Hindus in the south have uttered 'Oh my God (singular)', though here I may be falling back to 'The Simpsons' with Apu's "Oh my various Gods". I'm aware that exclamations in shock are probably not considered, but still have my own suggestions.

For Jesus Christ, and given my recent reading, the cry 'Charles Darwin' seems like it should be appropriate. But this is hard to say with force, as is Copernicus. Iff Richard Dawkins should be martyred to the cause of science I'll accept this name is far more catchy.

'A match made in heaven'. I'm guessing a match made in heaven is so good it is deemed impossible to have occurred by chance. In that case:
'A match so good it is well outside the 6 sigma deviation for match success.'

'In the name of God will you let me pass'. Many experiments not listed in the ignobels are in some way involved with improving the world for all mankind. In this light who could refuse a request in the name of science.
'In the name of Science will you let me pass five times, and let me not pass a further five times as a control'

'God save me'. Science is a lonely place, without any magic beings to befriend you have only mankind at your side. Accepting this, when all seems lost:
'May a plausible and explicable but clearly unlikely occurrence rescue me from the impending doom, yet accepting its likelihood will not be affected by these words, further excepting the butterfly effect whereby my expelling air causes unforeseen and significant consequences disproportionaaa....'

The four ages of the universe

I recently listened to a brief description of Hindu beliefs about the cyclic nature of the universe. To give an unfair and short summary, they believe in four ages of man, with varying degrees of virtue, in a repeating cycle. To begin with life was pure, and controlled by one or other of the gods. The next two ages displayed unmemorable variations in these conditions. We are now in the last of the four ages, the age of sin, chaos and dishonesty. Sat in India, this all sounds very plausible!

And what prompts this bad taste, these are my sentiments after a taxi driver tried to overcharge me on the way to the hospital. Ok, I admit, I was looking forward to this one. I was already in my mind conducting an experiment when I asked for the hospital directly not simply it's district. (The last rickshaw to a hospital was an unpleasant man who kept trying to sign that I had been having risky sex to all the other rickshaw drivers, because that was clearly the only reason anyone would go to a hospital). I was not disappointed in my disappointment, the taxi driver tried to charge about 2.5 times the going rate. To be fair to Meghalaya and the Khasi, the taxi driver was both ethnically and culturally an immigrant from the Indian parts of India. The British amalgamated a number of distinct regions to form India... and perhaps my own idea of not cheating the sick for a dollar is something inherited from the Christian doctrine. (I'm fine)

Isn't it ironic

I never understood irony. Is it ironic to use 'the origin of species' as a fly-swatter. It's a perfect read with the wonderful diversity of life on display as you descend the mountains towards the plains of Bangladesh. It's also got a satisfying weight to it.

The British were here

The state language is English, which a handful of Khasi people can speak. The 'traditional' Khasi house would be at home as an old cottage in England. Black timber frame with whitewashed mortar paneling, and it's own well tended garden, bordered by a small fence or hedge. The square is surrounded by adverts for 'tea and lunch'. Tea is served with biscuits. Civilisation.

The wonderful rock

Each time a villages introduces me to their tourist attraction, on the order of a special rock, I can't help but think of the holy stone of Craggy Island. This rock balanced on top of a seemingly too small pillar of some other rock is certainly impressive. I'd place it about mid table in the ranking of special rocks.

Transport

It's not a truly local bus unless the entire upper body includes pews are made of wood. From inside it looks like a cross between a boat and a barn, with arched ribs over the roof and floorboards underneath the heavy wooden benches. In the back, behind the huddled well wrapped people, more than half the bus is devoted to cargo.

Shillong

When does the rain start? *the skies break and a torrent of falling water is unleashed* Hmm, about march.

Inside Shillong at least I can get a Hotel, though certain clues lead me to believe the form-Cs are precious items. But it's Sunday, and the wonderful gift of Christianity is that most of the businesses are closed. Eventually after scouring the entire 'police bazaa' area of the city until after dark I find one. Down one road a large well lit internet cafe, open late on a Sunday. That's Hinduism for you, as indicated by the Shiva calendar on the wall, thank some deity for India's multiculturalism (Shillong has many Christians and Muslims). Though sadly all does not seem to be well. The greeting I receive as a foreigner isn't universally friendly. I witness two confrontations which are defused before becoming fights in my first day in the market. There is some tension here.

How not to encourage tourism.

Welcome to Guwahati. "No Room". "No Room". "Which country". "England". "Hotel full". I would have thought that tourism was to be encouraged in India, this is the principle of the most recent VISA change. VISA on arrival was supposed to make tourism easier. Why did it occur to nobody that in some cities almost all hotels will not accept foreigners, due to my favourite rant, the 'form-C problem'. How can it pass the attention of tourism officials, which is a post that exists in some of these impossible to visit cities, that it is so. The answer is perhaps a lack of understanding that in the well developed tourist locations of India, foreigners often pay far less than the expensive hotels which have form-C available. But a tourist department is a government department. Government departments have entrance exams and paperwork. To actually do something would be going too far.

For a recap, form-C simply contains some details of the foreigner and has to be submitted to the local police. At the very least hotels don't have this form in stock, or can't be bothered to make the trip to the police station. The suggested complication is that the police simply wouldn't accept it anyway without the right 'fee'/ family relation. The solution: allow any hotel in the country to complete the form online. This would instantly give the government required information. Camera phones might now be good enough to take a snap of the passport and visitor. But that would be logical. India loves paperwork. Stamp.

A photograph from the working world

Another photo from the pub. It doesn't matter which, they're all chains with generic menus. I can feel the warm stuffy atmosphere from the photo. I can walk around the photo up to the bar and see the one or two average real ales on tap. It's bright and well lit from everywhere. Back at the table I can feel my head starting to sink, tired always. There's nothing to talk about so the conversation always gets back to work. There's nothing.

Never ever go back.

Relative wealth

You might expect me to say how rich and privileged I feel amid the scenes of poverty, I don't. Something feels a bit odd here; each day I am spending four times what a typical salaried Indian might earn, but I can't afford to eat where the middle class eat. I can't afford to stay in the hotels the middle class choose. I can't afford to buy the cameras the middle class buy. In the big electronics stores I'm looking at the budget models. This is clearly an exaggerated comparison, I have to eat out for every meal, I live in a hotel it's not a luxury, and I don't invest such a fraction of my wealth in purchases. But the contrast feels very real, I can walk into a shop and buy a camera worth five months wages for a junior shop assistant, or perhaps 2 months at the shop I am in, and feel I'm spending an obscene amount of money. But the next minute at a tourist spot which is visited by Indian tourists I will have one of the cheapest cameras on display. It's not even an SLR. The government employees I met in Andhra Pradesh on very moderate salaries (government standard level Rs10,000 per month, 100 GBP per month) saved to buy SLR cameras.

I'm trying to connect this to the UK in my mind, why is the apparent difference so great. It's hard to match up the figures due to inflation and multiple sources, so ignore anything but rough orders of magnitude. Thinking only of relative pay, as adjusted purchasing power and internationally priced goods are an unthinkable headache. The minimum wage at 40 hours per week would yield around 12,500GBP. From fairly recent data, 90% of the UK population might earn below 50,500GBP before tax. After taxation is applied with the almost progressive increases in tax-free allowance under the conned libs, the 4 fold difference reduces to perhaps 3 fold. If 99% earn under 160,000GBP before tax, after applying taxes (assuming they are paid...) the difference is still only around 8-fold. Of course there is currently a significant problem with unemployment, and the top 1% are ignored, but this ratio, lets call it a 3 to 10 fold difference, is a benchmark.

What about India. The bottom 25% of all people live on under 100GBP per year, but this isn't even a salary. The average living is around 800GBP per year. This means that even someone on a standard income is 8 fold ahead of the poorest 25%. A foreign educated university lecturer, mid level government employee, call center worker (here it pays) or skilled professional (electronics) could be making 3,600GBP per year, 36 times the poorest 25%. A high value electronic engineer or someone with a good position, the figure reaches up to 60-100 times the poorest. The minimum salary for a foreigner on a working VISA is 150 times the earnings of the poorest 25%. According to the government, the top 1% here are earning 20,000GBP per year, or 200 times the income of the poorest. This comparison isn't exact, there are far too many non-comparable numbers. The unemployed of India have been compared against the employed of Europe as a baseline. But approximately, the 10 fold income gap of the UK here becomes a 30-200 fold gap. Even using the 800GBP salary as a baseline for India over 1% of people earn 25 times this.

Apparently there is a measure called the 'Gini coefficient' which measures income inequality. By this measure India is more equal than the UK... it doesn't have my trust. I know I'm just another clueless tourist harping on about poverty, I'm just playing poor. Travelling for two years without working is a luxury some people I have met can't quite comprehend. But looking at the income inequality... it doesn't feel right. I'm not going to jump to a socialist conclusion, India's population is still growing fast... I'm not going to touch that one.

Light reading

The copies of the books that I am reading are between 35 and 60 years old. It pains me to take them thinking that by my selection I am effectively withdrawing these from circulation. Antiques wont survive backpacking. The selection is a very important part of the process, these were tucked away amongst a blanket of erotic novels and books on business and computing. The Kolkata market bookstores proudly boast that they stock both 'new and old Mills and Boon'. As I look at the books I feel a guilt; I might as well be holding a match to them. Books are still expensive for many people, and I'm taking away the chance for someone who noted Gandhi's preferences to also read Tolstoy. Or perhaps I have made someone's day by uncovering bedroom adventures IV.

Wallahs

You want to buy clarinet? I have good clarinet.

Mumbai

Holi was on the whole playful and high spirited, and people respected my total lack of interest in being covered in staining coloured powder again this year. Oh Mumbai you were doing so well until the moment I saw a man hit his wife in the street and she fell down with a slight roll which protected her head. You just had to keep the domestic violence under wraps for 14 hours, while the other westerners go and look at slums as if India's national treasure.

Read about my lunch

Posts about food get the most hits. As this is clearly all anyone cares to read about on the internet, I submit. Here is my review of the restaurants of Om Beach, Gokarna (or 'the world as I know it'). This review is of course utterly pointless. It's likely that few people will read this; it's unlikely that anyone that does read it will also come to India; India isn't exactly accessible for a weekend break; even if it was, you certainly wouldn't come here for the food, and the season is just about over. But, hypothetically, if you happened to walk down the beach right now you might find the following.

As I am now a restaurant critic I have dispensed with any need to be fair, partial, refrain from using this as a tool to favour restaurants I like, or even to have eaten in the restaurants I review.

Namaste cafe.
A big but disappointing restaurant at the start of the beach.

Dolphin Bay.
The friendliest most amusing rats-nest on Om Beach, staffed and inhabited by resident jokers. Where as most dishes are pretty average, there are a few specialities hidden in the menu. Worth a try are the pizzas, small but topped with a thick layer of rich cheese. Try the olive cheese pizza, or the veg-olive pizza if you are into pieces of carrot on your pizza. Other noteworthy items are the large selection of deserts; the signature desert being the 'dolphin cake', a chilled chocolate, custard biscuit slice, best eaten with ice cream.

But saving the best for last, the Dolphin has perhaps the best lemonana on Om Beach. Billed as a 'lemon-mint juice', think instead of a virgin mojito slushy prepared with lots of mint, and a good dose of sugar. Apparently this name comes from Hebrew, 'nana' meaning mint. Just subtly add a dash of rum to create the perfect drink, mouth tingling and refreshing. Do not add whiskey. Whiskey is not 'same same' as rum. Whiskey does not complement the flavour, and if a shop or restaurant should offer whiskey when you ask for rum don't trust them to open a tin of beans. If you don't want ice in your lemonana, go home. As a friend pointed out, India is the country where no distinction is made between lemons and limes. For that matter, I'm not entirely sure which fruit the kitchen angels press to make this wonderful drink, but keep going!

Om Shanti.
Unremarkable, as far as I remember.

Om Rock.
Perhaps I will call them unremarkable for not having been specifically recommended.

Om Sri Ganesh (more commonly known as 'the one with the bridge')
Some of the best food on the beach, both in presentation and flavour, but at a cost to both your time and your pocket. As far as I am aware all dishes are well received, with recommendations for the Israeli food, North Indian food, grilled paneer and the sizzler (food served on a burning cabbage leaf, for people who like the smell of burning cabbage). The lemonana is more on the order of a frozen lemon juice, but still very refreshing.

Sagar.
I'll call it unremarkable for the totally unfair reason of my not having eaten there.

Sangam.
I have heard some credit is given to both the pizza and the salads, but the speciality is definitely local food. 'Indian food' does not mean local food, and when most of the oblivious tourists order 'Indian food' they are eating styles far less local than they imagine. The paneer and gravy dishes which spring to mind all originate in the northern Indian states, and two thousand kilometers distant is not exactly local. The recommended dishes here are the Thali, which allows you to taste several local curries, and the curries themselves. A simple veg curry includes plenty of coconut and a little green chilli, typical of the food of Kerala and seemingly also coastal Karnataka (The chef is a Karnataka man). There is also one of the best veg birianis on the beach, with a fresh and light taste, cashews, raisins (without becoming sweet) and a separate rich masala sauce. The shakes are also worth a mention, for example the kitkat nutella coffee. (In a competition to have the most outlandish shakes with Nirvana perhaps)

Manikarana/ Manikara/ Manikarna (as labelled by adjacent signs)
Run by the owners wife, a known dodgy dealer. As is sometimes the case all of the curries have a strangely similar flavour, but a search of any menu will turn up an oddity. You can get a whole plate of macaroni pasta, lightly fried with crispy garlic, and topped with cheese, for just Rs60.

Moksha.
for some reason never mentioned directly, I'm sure it's perfectly OK. I ate there last year and didn't die. Under the logic of alternative medicine this also makes it the preventative treatment for all the diseases I didn't get.

Ganesh (the second).
For a while attempted to attract tourists with enticing naked lights. Probably cooks something well.

Nirvana.
Big and developed, almost professionally run. This leads to good service and a generally capable kitchen. They have a pizza oven and the result is definitely passable, with a flavour which goes beyond reliance on a thick layer of cheese. A competitor to the title of 'the place for shakes'.

Jungle cafe.
A long sandy path leads away behind the beach and this spot has a nice forest atmosphere. At least a few good curries and a noteworthy masala chai spiced with cinnamon.

Rasta cafe.
An offensively shanti service, don't bother.

Dragon cafe.
An outdoors grill in peak season, otherwise probably unremarkable.

Sunset point cafe.
Specialises in fish. Didn't have any fish. (relevant to those that eat such things).

Dolphin Shanti.
On the rocks right at the end of the beach Dolphin Shanti comes with a view over the whole bay, it's a peaceful spot away from the people traffic. Despite a limited kitchen they will endeavour to cook most things; don't expect miracles, but simple well cooked curries, sizzlers and other dishes are possible. The pasta might be bettered by some students, but the full plateful serving is definitely appreciated by the same gap-yearing students. The finger chips (UK:chips USA:fries) are some of the best on the beach, fluffy, crispy and well salted. This mix of location and passable food seems to disproportionately attract the English and Germans.

Rudraksha

There are many bead-sellers who trudge every day from person to person on the sand of Gokarna's beaches. They lurk near each tourist in turn, waiting for some minutes, standing or crouching with an arm raised and a thick blanket of necklaces hanging down. Occasionally there is a conversation, polite trivia beyond the words 'would you like some beads, just looking, looking free'. Other times the beads are held up in silence. The flies rasp their front legs at the smell of interest, and the negotiations begin. The starting demand for the necklaces is high, up from the 'one hundred rupees only' of last year. This time any necklace desired costs two hundred, five hundred or seven hundred Rupees. Tourists fall for it, if the initial demand is seven hundred, then a negotiated price of two hundred must be a good deal. Other times less savvy tourists have paid more for a single necklace, or have been taken advantage of with a bulk discount. A popular style, and something vaguely topical for India, are the Rudraksha beads. These are the rough, ridged seeds of a large tree, which have a traditional use as prayer beads in Hinduism. There are many other types though, "any colour you like", as is said. But the 'real gold' turns green, the 'real silver' turns brown, and the 'real gems' are just glass. The necklaces and bracelets bought for hundreds of Rupees on the beach sell for between thirty and eighty Rupees at the main town, just a few kilometers away.

The question often asked by incredulous tourists during negotiations is this: 'tell me the real price'. Most Israelis on the other hand know to start with a counter offer of ten Rupees. So what is the real price? A bead seller certainly isn't the right person to ask this question. If a competitive market can answer the question, then the price in town is the real price of beads. If it's understood that walking in the hot sun is added labour, they provide a service in convenience of sale, or inconvenience of disturbance if you're not into dressing like a hippie. But the real issue is with the variable price. Bartering fails in this case for two reasons, one party doesn't know the monetary value of what is on offer, and that no skill related to the production of the beads is a factor in the price (though the bead sellers do produce their own necklaces. They buy beads in bulk from the northern states for prices per kilo and thread them.) This is where the practise fails an intuitive sense of fairness, the money earned does not correspond to value added or work done. That someone can run a business which is not based on adding value but selling things to people who don't know the true value. The skill they sell is manipulation and deception. In my mind haggling can't die a death soon enough.