Cruising Tonle Sap
Or
Look Mom, No Hands! (continued)

After boating to the middle of the lake, we headed back. But had to stop at one of the local crocodile farm / restaurant / fruit stand/ trinket places that line the banks at the mouth of the lake. I tried to get the driver to pass on, but both he and Juan felt I really needed to see one of these places and were quite encouraging about my doing so. Figuring that meant they both would make a buck from the stop, I agreed.

Your stopping at one of these places is a signal for all the locals to swarm to the large floating emporium to sell you more bananas (which are also offered for sale on the boat). And paddling away in their midst are the picture taking opportunity bathtub brigade kids. I’d heard about this trick before and thought it’d be a good photo op regardless of its commercialization. Seems a decade or so ago some local kid paddled by in a wash tub and got his picture taken and tipped. Now there are dozens floating about. I climbed to the top floor of the emporium barge to shoot down upon one energetic little fellow (thinking I’d get the shot and be far enough away to not have to pay him for it - not that I’m cheap, just hate to encourage such brash commercialism). Wasn’t until I zoomed in on the boy waving from his wash tub that I discovered he was yet another victim of a land mine.

I’m not sure if it was his friendly attitude, the effort of one-hand rowing, or just plain guilt on my part, but this kid’s plight touched me. So after taking his picture I climbed back down to water level and gave him the pocketful of reil that had been pawned off on me over the last day. Major coup for the kid. Then, my feeling of compassion and love for my fellow man dissolved as dozens of his brethren came swarming over with their hands out, figuring they’d found a gullible touri to fleece.

So while in Cambodia, watch out for land mines, and watch out for locals bearing bananas - both can be deadly!

Hawaii Aloha
Or
Lost In Haleiwa

OK, so, I get lots of email saying, “Dude, you are such a fantastically talented photographer and could surely make a wonderful living off of your artistic skills, but even though you’ve spent a large portion of your live living in Hawaii, you have no pictures on-line of the islands. How come?”

Now I’m paraphrasing here. The comments usually are closer to: “Where’s the Hawaii pix?” But I know the flowery comments are meant, too.

Up until now, lucky you, I haven’t posted any pictures of the islands because most were taken way prior to this websites development. But, I’ve been visiting often this year and it looks like I’ll be hitting the beaches of Hawaii several times more this year. So maybe it’s time. That we’ve developed an entire new line of island-based jewelry, has nothing to do with it. Really. Trust me.

Been away for so long that I’d forgotten some of the things I loved about living in paradise. The palm sized cockroaches, for example. Kidding. The balmy breezes, I have missed. As have I missed the slower, more gentle pace, that the only people honking their horns are touri, that other drivers actually slow down to let you over. Free music walking along Waikiki Beach at sunset, Korean pears; macaroni salad and two scoops rice with any local dish you order; Kahuku shrimp - love that garlic!. Waimanalo Beach jammed packed with at least four other people. Sitting with friends getting plastered on fruity tropical drinks as the night whiles away . . .

300 lb local women swaying sensually as they show you what the hula is really all about. Iz’s pure melodic voice echoing through the island (ok, so its being piped out of a thousand ABC stores, but sweet all the same, no?) Trying to explain to touri why the sun sets in the west, but is visible off the North Shore. The nicely exposed hard bodies of hot touri folk - and the overly exposed flabby bodies of even more touri folk. Hot babes in muumuus. Hot guys in surfer shorts. Touri from Idaho wearing garishly patterned matching aloha wear (thanks Hilo Hattie). Two dollar T shirts. Spending weeks without ever having to put on long pants, or shoes.

Yes, these are a few of my favorite things (which beat the hell out of girls in white dresses and brown paper packages, huh?) But I digress, once again. So, last visit was for a wholesale show with my friends Darenda, Helena, and Sandy (an unfuckingbelievably great travel companion). First day out we headed east around the island, stopping here and there, wherever it felt right. Ended up in Haleiwa, which many touri miss now that the main road cuts away from town. I wanted to see my brothers old store front, as I’d never had the chance when he actually owned it. Not talking major excitement here. Then, since it was getting to sunset time, we doubled back to sit on the lanai at Jamesons’ for dinner and drinks. More drinks than dinner, of course. I noticed a big fat guy with portugee hair walk by, and sure enough, when he turned his profile to me it was the big fat guy from Lost. Yeah, I know, the character’s name is Hurley. But ‘the big fat guy’ is more descriptive and you knew who I meant. I pointed him out to Sandy and she, in turn pointed out that he was sitting with the Korean guy (do we have to go through the name thing again!?). Ended up half the cast was there that night for dinner. Not like there are many dining choices on the North Shore. But it was kinda cool in any case.

Exciting travel tale? Nah, but I needed an excuse to add a page of Hawaii shots . . . and a plug for our Island Dude Jewelry.

Ramble On . . .

Mosey On Back . . .

Entrance To The Rabbit Hole . . .

SIGHTS OF:

Tonle Sap

Hawaii