Haiti: Pain and Lessons to be Learned
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Don’t take a predetermined tour. The tour leaders are sure you don’t want to meet the real people, but a sanitized version of folk presentations. Travel independently, and don’t always stay in the travel destinations, the tourist towns; stay in smaller towns or villages, spread your money around. Look that street vendor in the eye while you negotiate some mystery meat on a stick. Return her smile. Not only will you have more fun, more memories, but that street vendor will remember that some Americans actually cared enough to want to see her village, and how she lives. Read the rest of this article…

Christmas Card from Bangkok
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Happy Christmas from Bangkok. We’ll celebrate by crossing the International Date Line on Christmas Day.
Bob and Claire Rogers prepare to return home from their adventurous tandem bicycle tour from Tibet to Bangkok.

Claire and Bob Rogers Read the rest of this article…

Zippy Draws A Crowd
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Chinese do not like to be photographed as a part of a crowd, and yet they always like to be a part of a crowd. I wonder if it has to do with how much they are under surveillance, or think they are? Read the rest of this article…

Detour to the Hospital
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Claire was not responding at first and I got her out of traffic carefully, in case any bones were broken (none). I can’t explain how I felt seeing her, barely moving, having trouble hearing me, or answering to her name. She finally came around, and I got her sitting upright and talking coherently. I checked her eyes for dilation or wandering, and she could focus and had no double vision. Read the rest of this article…

Shangri-la: More to come
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Is this part of China still Shangri-la? For many of the people content to live the simple life of farm work and devotion to Buddhism, it still must be a peaceful existence.

Are they the healthy happy people who live long lives, as in the novel? Their smiles as we pass indicate they are happy; as for their health, they must have strong hearts to navigate the near vertical hillsides all day every day. Their sanitary systems are nonexistent, but they probably adapt to some degree, and all consumed water is boiled. Many of them live as my grandfather lived in West Virginia more than 100 years ago. He was mowing hay by hand when he was 90 years old, worked working with horses, had no electricity, went to the outhouse, ate pork every day, and died peacefully at home at 93. Shangri-la? Not for us, but considering the challenges of modern life, and that American’s life spans are decreasing for the first time ever, perhaps lessons to be learned. Read the rest of this article…

Meeting the Yangtze
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We saw the Yangtze overwhelm our aquamarine river, with a hard line of flood brown. With the load of sediment being carried by the Yangtze, here in the mountains with little agricultural land to contribute to the load, I wonder how long the impoundments behind the Three Gorges Dam, will last before filling up the impoundment? About a week ago we were within 100 kilometers of the true headwaters, much higher in the Himalayas.

We were in a spectacular gorge all day. This is a land of precipitous mountains, still thousands of meters high, and rushing rivers cutting deeply, quickly. We expect to see the famous Tiger Leaping Gorge in a few days, but I can’t imagine it being more spectacular than the ones we have already seen. Read the rest of this article…

A Thorn Tree Grows in Shangri-la
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At one curve in the road, a woman looked up from weeding her small orchard, and let out with an extended soliloquy on our presence, accompanied by a large smile. Her husband, walking in the road, waved us down, and eagerly suggested, in pantomime, the we join him for a rest under a shade tree. He too beamed with joy at the possibility of enjoying our company. We had a difficult (more than we knew) day ahead of us, and I pointed at my wrist and shook my head in denial. He persisted, and we went back and forth, all with smiles.

Finally we waved and pushed off, our 26 inch prayer wheels spinning out thousands of goodwill messages up his mountain; but I think we might have missed the point. The farmer and his wife live Shangri-la, not just in it, but they are Shangri-la. They are poor, but well fed, and the circle of their days allows for a break when tired, a visit with passing strangers, the rhythm of weeding, or wall building when they feel like it, and the song of bird and stream as accompaniment to it all.

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