Journalist and Author Raymond Nadeau meets up with photographer, Steven Burton, sharing the pageantry, splendor and bodacious beauty of India’s joyous and notorious Festival of Colors.

While there is certainly much to lament these days, from failed economies to social unrest to global warming, it’s easy to forget that there are still places and moments filled with celebration and color.  Children still play pranks on their friends and elders squealing in innocent delight.  Passions are proven to not always be destructive. And, color, in all its splendor still distracts from otherwise grey realities transforming the mundane into something sublime.

Steven Burton, a New York City based photographer,  captured just such a vivid reprieve from the ordinary on his recent trip to India where he  chronicled India’s annual Holi festival. Holi – the festival of colors – the jubilant, strangely magnificent festival, steeped in multiple traditions and somehow lost in time. Holi is an amalgam of music, dance, religious devotion, ritual and, most of all, one of the world’s few tributes to the uplifting, often underappreciated glory of color.   What visual artists and even some alternative medical and healing traditions have always recognized is that color is and forever will be directly connected to hearts and, if you ask the subjects of the following photos, perhaps even directly to the soul.

Like this visual essay, Steven is a colorful, yet thoughtful person.  He sees both the surface and beneath the surface – somehow fusing both the visible with a sensitive understanding and integration of the colorful strata that lie deeper toward the core.  A celebrated, professional model, his “image” is easily recognizable – yet his life is private.  Perhaps it is because he has been the face reflected in so many photographs that he is particularly sensitive to the fact that what one sees is not always a complete reflection of the emotional complexity of what is.  Steven has a knack for seeing and experiencing what is.  He sees beyond color.  He sees beyond masks.

No doubt, Burton’s study of graphic design at Blackpool and Fylde College in Blackpool, England and his having worked with some of the world’s greatest photographers such as Bruce Webber, Richard Phibs, Patrick Demarchelier and Stewart Shinning has contributed to this ability to see beneath the surface – propelled by Burton’s natural humanity, warmth and, of course, talent as a photographer.  The fact that he lives as an ex-pat in New York City, the melting pot of melting pots, a place where even the most colorful person often goes unnoticed, may also be partially accountable  for his ability to see what and where no one else ever bothers to look, let alone see.  Thus, Steven seems to have mastered the ability to capture his subjects willingly off-guard, accepting of his momentary intrusion and even welcoming of his visual intimacy.

Although Burton has lived, worked and traveled around the world, what truly differentiates his photography is his ability to see the world with an unflinching, unwavering sense of awe and unique understanding that the real beauty of the world always prevails and is best expressed in the faces of human beings – even when it’s shrouded in vividly, brilliantly, colored clouds of smoke.

Holi, or the festival of colors as it is also known, is undoubtedly the most joyous and boisterous of Hindu festivals. It’s a photographic opportunity extraordinaire with its public exhibitions of unadulterated mirth, fun and play, music and dance – and the momentary suspension of reserve which during other times of year might constitute a barrier between a photographer and his or her subject.  I assumed this is what brought Steven to India.  I was wrong.  It seems he has a thing for water fights.

I asked Burton about the festival and his experience and this is what he had to say:

“As a kid, I loved water fights.  Like most children, I always felt invincible. Water pistols, buckets, hoses anything capable of projecting water – these seem to hold universal appeal for children hell bent on being naughty and getting themselves and their playmates soaking wet.  I was just your average brat, a little naughty  - and  I grew up in the UK which, in a way, made it a little ironic – my love for pelting my friends in water despite the fact we lived in a place where there was constant rain.  So when I heard about the largest water and powder throwing celebration in the world, called – The Holi festival in India. It was a no-brainer. I had to go.”

While to me, this all sounded very nostalgic and good reason to take a vacation, I had to wonder why this festival in particular, held the promise of a great photo essay.  So, I asked Steven, apart from the “water antics” what made the Holi festival visually significant – truly worth capturing?

Burton responded, “While Holi is holy – the synonyms should not be confused.  Holi is a cultural and a religious event – it also is a visual reenactment of many of the on-going, archetypal themes that cross virtually every culture.  The Holi festival reenacts multiple elements of Hindu lore – extracting symbolism from multiple stories.  Holi is played out all over India and comes under many names, and mythologies – but the common message is to celebrate the coming of summer and the triumph of good over evil – all with as much fun as possible.

“The festival dates back at least several centuries before Christ, and was originally known as  “ Holika”; it was a special rite celebrated by married women for the happiness  and well being of there families.  While much of that tradition and other reflections of that transition remain, it has evolved into a festival that celebrates and commemorates many things – not the least of which is the joy of life and the diversity of human beings – and love.”

When asked to describe his journey, Burton recounted, “My Destinations were the small  towns of Mathura and Varindavan  – the stomping ground of the young mischievous Lord Krishna, where the origins of the throwing of color originated.”

“The story goes that the young Lord Krishna was jealous of the fair complexion of his soul mate Radhas, complaining to his mother Yashoda that he had dark skin and that nature had been unfair. To placate her son, Yashoda told young Krishna he could apply a color of his choice to Radhas face; this solution pleased the mischievous Krishna, explaining why the tradition has become a full fledged festival.”

Further recounting his journey, Burton continues, “I arrived in Mathura which is a small town 141km south of New Delhi passing many statues of  Holika with the son of Hiranyakashap – Prahlad on her lap – along side  wood ready to be burnt at the auspicious time during that night’s festivities.   This is the day of Holika Dahan.  The story goes that a demon king called Hiranyakashyap believed himself to be a god  and decreed  that only he could be worshiped ; when his son Prahlad began following Lord Vishnu,  in rage, the king  asked his sister, Holika to enter a burning fire with his son on her lap.

“While Holika had the power to enter fire unscathed, she was unaware that her protection from the flames only worked when she entered alone.  Prahlad was saved due to his extreme devotion to Lord Vishnu and Holika perished – thus coming to symbolize evil. This evening of bonfires happens the day before the day of colors and symbolizes the success of good over evil.

“I left my Hotel on the lat afternoon prior to the evening of bonfires and walked to the train tracks where the burning of one of the deity pyres was to take place at 10.15pm . As the time arrived and the local crowd surrounded the statue, a middle aged man with a fashionably bushy Indian mustache struck a match and threw it on the wood – which must have been loaded with gasoline due to the explosion that followed; everyone was rocked back a few feet, eyebrows and mustaches were singed, followed by big smiles and cheers.  Then the man with the matches reached into the fire, grabbed Prahlad from the grasp of Holika and ran down the street triumphantly screaming!  I had witnessed a “miracle” and it was now time to get some sleep.

“I woke with a crazy sense of peace, an almost surreal calm – a quiet-before-the storm sort of  feeling.   It was a cool morning as I stepped out upon the streets and headed for Varindavan,10 km from Mathura, where the Holi games were to be played – with reputed unparalleled verve. There were not many people on the streets and for a minute I had a horrible feeling that I had missed the festival! If it was not for the solo, dark-blue colored bicyclist, dotted with bright random splashes of red – riding by me at that moment, I might have been worried.  Apparently, the games were still on. I had been silly to worry.  The games have been on for over two millennium.

“I then shared a truck as we covered the 10km ride to Varindavan; I dangled out the back of a loaded three wheeler, my camera wrapped in bags to protect it from the water and powder I knew awaited. Hat-on-my-head, my spirits up – and my bottom bumping on the potholes, I was on my way to Varindavan.

“Varindavan was the legendary playground of Lord Krishna, a place where he ran rampant and apparently had a great time playing pranks and benevolently inflicting mischief on the villagers. There are many temples, both old and new that attract pilgrims from all over the world – particularly those dedicated to Lord Krishna.

“The next thing I remember is pink dust exploding on the older women next to me, followed by shouting and laughter.  I disembarked and my face was instantly “branded” with the imprint of the red, wet hands of a young giggling boy, who seemed very pleased to have tinted the face of a fresh-faced tourist in a color that was a cross between apples and oranges.  My assailant shouted, ‘Bura na mano Holi ha’ the Holi chant which translates: ‘Please don’t take any offence for it is Holi.”  With that, he ran off only to be replaced by others of his “polite”, fun-loving friends.  By this time I did manage to retrieve my camera out of its wrapper, which seemed to transform my friendly Holi hooligans into preening peacocks – prompting them to assume “pose” mode – scamps quickly transformed into aspiring super models.

“Thus was the intensity of Holi – non-stop until 2pm when the festival comes to an end.  The atmosphere continued its electric pace, filled with positive energy. Proud fathers looked upon their sons and daughters as they dumped full buckets of colored water from balconies on unsuspecting priests below. Groups of men sing Bollywood-inspired Holi numbers fired by the holiday drink Thadai laced with Bhang which produces exactly that, a powerful bang, completing the surreal scene.

“I ducked down a side street looking for some portraits to shoot away from the crowd. The streets in Varindavan are very narrow, like all ancient towns with beautiful old buildings. Balconies loom overhead where monkeys swing and snatch anything that is not tied down – spectacles seemed to be there preference. These particular  monkeys looked down at the festivities with nonchalance.

“The Temple is where the true water/ powder fight takes place; depending upon the sizes of the temples,  hundreds of people cram into these gloriously-carved ancient buildings. Singing and dancing the air is thick with colored powder and wild abandon. I am 6’1 and on this day was glad my head rose over the average reveler.  It all felt a little like a joyous car wash – people entered one way and came out the other transformed – maybe not cleaner, but shiny and new none-the-less. .

“There was one safe haven; the place where food was served, maybe made more poignant given the sour-looking guard who sat on an elevated chair armed with a shot gun –  facing the diners . I sat, ate, re- charged and sampled the sweets that are associated with holi, gujiya, mathri, malpuas – great ways to restore much needed energy.

“I loved the pure good will in Varindavan,  I had read that there are places in India where  things could get out of hand – especially  when alcohol is involved. But Varindavan demonstrated none of that.  In fact, I would characterize it is as having had almost a manic family-like atmosphere.

“When 2pm arrived it was like someone had turned off a tap! Shop keepers came out with hoses.  The colored empty streets were suddenly the only reminders of the events that were now just hours old.  Still more pink powder drifted peacefully down on the still, morning air.

“I walked happily in the direction of the main road dreaming of a shower, my bed and also wondering if I might luck upon a nice cold beer. The main road was about a mile’s walk and the sun was already high and hot. I had survived the biggest water/powder fight I had ever seen.  My photos survive to tell the tale.

“As I rounded the corner, in the distance, I watched a man on a bike being covered with blue water by a group of 12 kids.  Suddenly, the boys came running towards me.  They must have seen me dragging my feet in their direction.  Their eyes lit with youthful glee, gazing towards me.  Seconds later, 12 little Krishnas huddled around me. Not again. Holi Holy. Krishna, please – not again.”

Steven Burton’s work can be viewed at wwwwww.stevenburtonphotography.com

stevenburtonphoto@gmail.com

More of Raymond Nadeau’s work can be found at www.livingbrandslivingmedia.com.

Published by Traversing The Orient Magazine. You want to make an online travel business? Please go to www.web.com.

Holi – A Visual Feast of Colors

Words by: John J. Toomey

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Thai mural painting was developed to a high degree in temples to enhance the beauty of the sacred area. Murals adorn the ordination halls (bot) and assembly halls (viharn) and are still used by monks as teaching aids, evoking a tranquil atmosphere of meditation. Typically, the paintings on the upper section represent a gathering of gods and other celestials in rows, whereas those on the middle of the walls depict Jataka stories of the previous incarnations of the Buddha, or the events and incidents in the life of the Buddha before and after his enlightenment, usually including scenes of everyday life of people and animals in town, village and forest in the lowest registers.

The walls of the entrance, opposite the main Buddha image, typically depict the Conquering of Evil (Mara), and the back wall, behind the principal Buddha image, shows the Traiphum, the Buddhist cosmology of heaven (world of formlessness), earth (world of form), and hell (world of desire), the shocking details of the karmic sufferings of the last in striking contrast to the tranquility of the Buddha image.

One may observe subtle differences in the themes of the murals. Nonetheless, they all relate to Buddhism in some way or form. In some murals, scenes of royal ceremonies, depictions of everyday life, local myths and even the history of Thailand can be seen. Some mural paintings exhibit a broad lustful humor even in the most revered of scenes, an indication of the artists’ sense of humor. In one way or another, the Thai paintings transport one to the mythical and fantastic realms where divinities, fabulous beasts and spirits act out their roles.

Traditional Thai Paintings – Typically Asian

Conventional perspective was ignored and figures were large or small depending on their importance. The following characteristics are found in painting styles throughout Asia: Shadows were unknown and spatial distance was suggested by the relative placement of figures and overlapping of architectural details.  Figures were two dimensional and landscapes were merely sketchy backdrops. One remarkable technique of pictorial composition called “apportioning areas” was employed as a technique to arrange the picture.  This is comparable to the “bird’s eye view” of Western painting. There is a strict iconography of rank expressed by the angle of the profile and the use of fine lines known as “hook for nose and jot for eye”.

When starting a Thai mural, the artist left a space for the main story, which was bordered by a heavy or gray line. After the pictures of the palace and the forest were drawn, the artist drew pictures of the people and the story in the appropriate positions. Decorative sin thao, saw-tooth or zigzag lines, were drawn around each of the scenes in the same frame as “space transformers”, effectively isolating the scenes from considerations of perspective by doing away with any surrounding intermediate or middle ground.

Later, a more sophisticated use of palace roofs and crenellations, shrubs, rocks, or lines of people or processions of animals or military was used for such “space transformers”. Alternatively, the artist used mountains or trees as borders not only to separate scenes or episodes of the story but also to unify them. Thus, we see continuous, flowing panoramas of places, palaces, towns, events and country landscapes with real and mythical people or creatures. In the finishing touches, the involvement of the master is often seen, even in the landscape background, such as details of leaves, so intricate that one can identify the species of tree.

Thai mural artists depicted human figures according to a definite organization of styles ranked according to their level of spiritual attainment.  Buddhas often face the viewer straight on. Those of the highest noble orders were portrayed in profile, with a brush of only a single mouse whisker used to delicately draw their arched eyebrows like inverted commas; graceful, elongated lotiform eyelids; narrow aquiline noses with full nostrils; curving moustaches above thick, slightly pursed lips shaped like a boat; and two notches on the chin.  Such nobles pose frozen in the postures of Thai classical dance or seated with one knee up in the royal-ease position lalitsana.

Boddhisattvas, queens and goddesses, with soft, tranquil, and youthful features, are usually depicted in ¾ view, with eyes lowered and a faint smile, and also float as if dancing.  Commoners and animals were portrayed naturally or even grossly without controlling their emotions and are shown as awkward and sometimes licentious buffoons.

Preparation and Technique

The Thai painter strove to be worthy by practicing patience and devotion to his religious calling. Whether monk or layman, he was highly respected and his apprentice was expected to show his loyalty to his master in the annual ceremony of wai khru (bowing respect to the master) to honor the masters of past generations as well. The apprentice carried out the menial chores like grinding the pigments, before being allowed to color in the background, and later slowly learned the ways of the profession. When he died, a master’s brushes, sketch books, mortars, pestles, and other tools were highly venerated by his family.

The first step is to wash the mineral salts away from the walls with extract from the pulverised leaves of the khi-lek (Siamese Cassia) or neem tree, combined with desalinated lime-water, fine sand and sugar, each morning for one or two weeks, until they are completely clean. This is tested by rubbing khamin (Thai turmeric) on the walls. If the walls are salt-free, the tumeric will leave a yellow hue instead of red.
Next, white clay or din sor pong is boiled with glue made from buffalo skin, making a most powerful paste. Alternatively, white chalk mixed with a binding paste of roasted tamarind seeds can be used. Several coats of the mixture are applied on the walls. When dry, the walls are scrubbed with a whetstone until smooth, like a white board.  The master outlines the composition, often using a stylus and red wash for the figures, for the apprentice to fill in later with colors.  Skilful painters do not need to draw outlines and Siamese artists preferred to judge measures by eye and thumb-nail rather than follow a tedious procedure.

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Colors and Brush’s

The traditional Thai painter had five primary pigments: the close equivalent of scarlet from red ochre or cinnabar, yellow ochre, ultramarine blue, pipe-clay white from chalk, and pot-black from soot.  There were also greens from certain leaves or malachite and gold from gold leaf. Prior to the 18^th century, indigo and other powdered pigments were also sometimes imported from China, while other natural colors were taken from the clay of riverbeds.  All were tempera colors, powders extracted from natural materials such as rocks, mixed in bowls with a resin called makhwit (Feronia elephantum) or buffalo skin glue binder. Gamboge, a golden-yellow made from the sap of a tree related to the mangosteen was used to outline compositions.  Thai tempera is of good quality; so the color of the drawing looks fresh and does not change. Therefore, the old drawings are durable and would last a very long time, but for the humid climate, which makes the tempera flake and peel off easily.

The kinds of pigments can sometimes be of use in dating a mural.  If the mural’s background is quite light it could very well come from the Ayutthaya period.  The traditional painting technique continued into the Bangkok period, when colors became richer, thanks to pigments imported from China and other foreign countries.  Around the middle of the 19th century, artists began using chemical pigments and Western perspective. In contrast to the lightness of the Ayutthaya murals, dark greens and burgundy reds served as the somber background during Bangkok times.

The apprentice purified the pigments of stones and foreign matter by repeated washing and sieving before they were pulverized.  He also made the brushes from barks and roots.  Some barks were soaked in water, then flattened, pressed, and shredded into long flakes, pounded, frayed and cut to a point. This brush was used for smooth, flat areas of the mural. Round brushes were made from aerial roots and were useful for stippling in trees and shrubs into a painting’s background or dabbing in the spots of elephant skin. The distinctive appearance of Thai murals is somewhat attributable to the characteristics of such brushes.  The wiry lines of the small brush are due to the hairs which come from the inner ear of a cow or a whisker of a mouse.

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Best Places to See Thai Murals

Among the very best of all the Thai mural paintings are those in the Buddhaisawan Chapel at the National Museum Bangkok (Wed-Sun, 09:30-4).  These portray events in the life of the historical Buddha which are also well-explained under each panel.

There are also very beautiful murals on the cloister walls of the Chapel Royale of the Emerald Buddha and impressive murals showing the influence of western techniques at Wat Suthat (everyday, 9am-6pm).

The following temple murals in Thonburi on the opposite bank of the river are accessible by boat:  Wat Rakhang boasts some of the best in its bot (ordination hall), which have been remounted on boards standing out from the wall for preservation, and marvelous murals on wood in its Sutra Library.

The murals of Wat Suwannaram use western and Chinese techniques to show Jataka Tales, former incarnations of the Buddha; and Wat Thong Nopphakhun is a hidden gem of crisp murals telling the life of the Buddha-to-be as Prince Vessantara in his last incarnation before becoming the Buddha.

From there you can walk to Wat Thong Thammachat for superb murals illustrating the life of the Buddha from the reign of Rama III. See dramatic “space transformers” and vivid colors in the three halls at Wat Kanlayanamit near the Temple of the Dawn and delicate “mouse-whisker” technique at Wat Dusidaram (a bit difficult to find, but worth it).

Published by Traversing The Orient Magazine. You want to make an online travel business? Please go to www.web.com.

How to Read a Temple: Unlocking the Maze of Thai Murals

Kayti Denham takes Traversing the Orient readers on a journey through the Philippines Visayas Islands

The Visayas are islands south of Luzon in the Philippines and play as big a part in the Philippine Tourism industry as places like Phuket and Koh Samui do in Thailand.

Beautiful islands steeped in history, beaches fringed with coconut palms and an old-fashioned gentility and friendship are to be found here. The Visayas can be a playground of leisure, exploration and magic. Cebu is the Visayas’ major hub and home to the Philippines excellent low cost airline Cebu Pacific. Never has flying been so much fun, with game shows and rounds of Happy Birthday sung mid flight.

Traversing the Orient took a step off the beaten path, or more accurately the white sand beaches, to discover a world of adventure and excitement on the islands of Bohol and Squalor. We flew Cebu Pacific to Tagbilaran, the main centre of Bohol, and within minutes were checking into an eccentric eco-resort called The Bee Farm. Funky little cottages are dotted amongst the forest, winding flower hung paths lead down to a perfect sea and all you can hear is the call of birds. The honey produced here features in everything from the salad dressing to the ice cream, the soap and the natural insect repellent. The Bee Farm hosts daily tours and maintain a popular presence on the island due to their care for the environment and their low-key, friendly staff.

The big natural geographical attractions on Bohol are the steamy Loboc River, the star of movies like Apocalypse Now, Platoon and many other films where, to quote Conrad: “a great wall of vegetation, an exuberant and entangled mass of trunks, branches, leaves, boughs, festoons’ is required as a backdrop, and the magnificent Chocolate Hills. A word of caution, do not be tempted to follow any guides who want you to see the tarsiers along the river. Here these tiny primates are used as tourist lures and kept in cages, prodded awake during daylight when they are naturally nocturnal and encouraged to climb on arms, sit in hands and be treated in a way that causes many of them to suicide.

It is far better to visit them in their natural habitat where you can view them without disturbing them. At the Visitors Centre in Corella you can learn about the creatures that share over 90% of our DNA and have inspired the likes of Yoda, Gremlins and ET.

Bohol is large enough to spend a few days; the island of Panglao is linked by road bridges and hosts many of the better resorts. Alona Beach is the place for diving and a busy nightlife with all the trimmings and traps of a fully commercial enterprise. The beer is cold and the nights are warm, it’s a place to chill out and relax. However, if you are looking for mystery and magic take an Ocean Cat Ferry from Tagbilaran and head to the Island with the spookiest reputation in the entire archipelago…Siquijor.

Traveling via Dumaguete the Ocean Cat ferry takes around two hours to deposit you at the pretty market port of Larena. From here we headed over to Sandugan and Casa De La Playa, a lovely beachside resort with individually designed bungalows and a really independent feel. The staff are helpful without being obsequious and whether you are doing your own thing, honeymooning, heading to the ocean or the hills they are there to assist you without interrupting the calm of the environment… you really can feel stranded on a desert island here.

Siquijor launched its very first Healing Arts Festival this April and we were fortunate enough to get up into the magical hills to take part. Healers from different parts of the island gathered to administer health and healing through the laying on of hands, the preparation of herbs and the practice of ancient healing arts, some of which looked simply bizarre: Why was that man blowing through a hose into a jar of water claiming he had removed the fat from a portly ex-pat’s liver? Yet nothing as bizarre as when one of our party was declared to have an evil spirit in a major limb.

On discovery the offending spirit was removed, with only a moment of fainting and twitching on part of the host, and much ado was made of protecting them from further invasion before they were released from the ministrations of the healers. Strangely they felt much improved after the experience and maintain that luck has been on their side ever since. For an inaugural event it may have been a tad unorganized but it certainly delivered magical experiences and it is hoped that the Festival will run next year with even more success, though maybe not more ‘evil spirits’.

Not far from the festival an elderly gentleman called Juan was undergoing his own ‘festival’, preparing for Easter Sunday by brewing up a huge cauldron of herbs and barks for the community. At ninety-nine he was hard of hearing but not lacking in humor, through eyes milky with cataracts he delivered a devastating twinkle to accompany his one toothed, warm and caring smile and his handshake was magic indeed.

The islands of the Philippines provide a vast variety of exploration and fascination; they are the sorts of places you can revisit time after time. The sense of history from before colonization by the Spanish to their painful role in the theatre of the second world war and the colorful times of the nineteen eighties create layers of human intrigue and interest, but at the same time you can don a mask and head beneath the surface of the sea and enter a whole new world.

The Philippines leave a lasting impression: not least the people whose friendliness and warmth are outstanding. Their ability to enthuse you with shared happiness could lift the most jaded from their despair, and if you come away singing eighties pop tunes, well, it’s the best souvenir you could have!

Published by Traversing The Orient Magazine. You want to make an online travel business? Please go to www.web.com.

A journey into the heart of lightness

Romantic balladeer Christian Bautista tells TTO readers about life in the spotlight

Words by Ben Hopkins

A gathering of teenage girls has formed in the lobby of Bangkok’s Grammy building. Many of them, dressed in tight skirts and school uniforms, are hoping to catch a glimpse of Filipino pop sensation Christian Bautista – a huge hit throughout Southeast Asia thanks to his romantic ballads and the kind of looks that melt teenage hearts and sell magazines.

When he arrives the reaction isn’t as wild as you’d expect. A few muted gasps, wobbly knees and a polite surge for autographs. They’ll save the hysterical screams and body shaking hysteria for his live performance.

Christian Bautista, with a voice as smooth as his complexion is in town to perform at the Pattaya International Music Festival. It’s a fly by night visit. When the festival’s over he’ll be back in Manila planning his next tour.

Dressed in casual black with a pair of Ray Ban’s in one hand and an itinerary in the other he’s attuned to the attention and the tight management procedures that assure these events are pulled off with aplomb. “I wasn’t always so confident” the 28 year old admits a few minutes after we’re introduced. In the early stages of his career he found the challenge of singing and dancing far less daunting than talking with strangers and dealing with an entourage of staff and hangers on. “I was a shy guy” he admits. “I didn’t really know what to say and how to deal with all the people around me”.

Born in Manila in ‘81 Christian tuned his vocal chords as a choir boy from the age of seven. It’s no surprise he’d be noticed in the years to come. He’s handsome, he can dance and he has a voice that lends itself perfectly to the romantic ballad. Shortly after graduating with a degree in Landscape Architecture fame was thrust upon him. At 21 he reached the finals of the Philippine talent show ‘Star in a Million 2003’. “I haven’t mowed a lawn since” he jokes. These days his songs are more likely to woo the affections of teenage girls than Jesus.

There was a time when musicians would spend years on the breadline, learning their trade by belting out gigues across the country – think of the Beatles. Nowadays you strike it big on a talent show and hey ho you’re a star. Warner were quick to snap up Christian and his first big hit, “The Way You Look At Me” has become his most enduring, gaining airplay throughout Southeast Asia and multi platinum status in the Philippines and Indonesia.

To be fair Christian hasn’t rested on his laurels. A string of albums has followed accompanied by a grueling tour schedule that sees him woo the crowds from Australia to Canada. As a fractured nation of 95 million people a deep routed passion for music is the one constant that unites Filipino’s of all creeds. When it comes to covers and karaoke they rule the world.

“When I play overseas the venues are always full of Filipino’s, especially when it’s as far away as Vancouver”. These followers are among the 10 million Filipino nationals who work overseas but yearn for the Philippines, its music and its people. Spread-eagled across the world they assure a fan-base for wherever the balladeer may travel.

“It’s always great to play to your own people but I would like to broaden out” Christian says. “Playing in Indonesia was special. My fan base there is mostly Indonesian. It’d be good to break into more countries like that.”

Another ambition for Christian is to write his own songs. Only last year he released an album of Jose Mari Chan covers. Widely regarded as the most respected singer in the Philippines, his hits would have been danced to at a time when Christian was no more than a glint in his mother’s eye. The old master gave his approval and feedback and the album has been a huge success. In a sense the baton was passed on but to emulate the old master Christian needs to break new ground.

“I’ve finally started to write my own songs” he says before shrugging them off as not very good. The answer is self deprecating but with his ability no one would be surprised if an album of accomplished self penned songs were to appear. When I ask him what he writes about he says, “Loves songs, songs about my own experiences.” Is he free to write as he feels and play where he wants? “Earlier in my career I had less control but now I meet with my manager and we work things out to suit both of us.”

There are no Malcolm McClaren types at Grammy and this probably suites Christian fine. A talented singer who wants to please everyone he values his fans, takes his trade seriously and works hard on maintaining and improving his voice.

The following night I catch sight of Christian at the Pattaya International Music festival. On stage he appears different, more confident but less real, reminding me of Frank Sinatra without the danger. There are now tens of thousands of girls ready to let loose. When he breaks into the first line of “The Way You Look At Me” a chorus of screams erupts and splits the moon in two.

Published by Traversing The Orient Magazine. You want to make an online travel business? Please go to www.web.com.

Looking at Stardom

Longtime resident of Bangkok Aaron Le Boutillier has teamed up with Simon Goddard to offer businesses in Thailand increased protection for their day-to-day business and brand identity. Liz Smailes hears how their partnership began and the services they offer.

Necessity, they say, is the mother of invention and research from the UK and USA has cited the economic downturn as a key factor in increasing disclosures of fraud, with answers to various questionnaires citing difficulty in achieving business targets and fear of losing jobs as main causes.

With over 30 years of combined security and investigative experience in Asia, Australia and the UK, LBG Le Boutillier Group Co Ltd has joined forces with Global Insight Ltd to offer investigative services in Thailand.

Aaron founded LBG Le Boutillier Group Co., Ltd in 2009. Aaron’s expertise is in assessing and mitigating risks from threats to security. Simon founded Global Insight in Hong Kong and Singapore in 1998.  His expertise is in corporate investigations and business intelligence research.

As Aaron says, “The LBG / Global Insight relationship in Thailand is the culmination of seven years of business partnership between Simon and myself and it provides for a close working relationship that we feel will benefit clients both in Thailand and elsewhere with our world class standards.”

Simon has over 24 years experience in the investigations business in Asia and has built up an impressive profile as one of the leading corporate investigation professionals in Asia. Before founding Global Insight, he was Managing Director of the Asian operations of Kroll Associates and then the head of Asian operations for Decision Strategies / Fairfax International. He began his career with the Australian Security Intelligence Organization and then moved on to the Strategic Intelligence Unit of the Australian Government’s National Crime Authority where he designed intelligence operations into organized crime.

Global Insight offers areas of expertise in due diligence services related to business acquisition, joint venture or investment, asset and fraud-related investigations and intellectual property protection.

Aaron and Simon are not The Ghostbusters nor are they the Men In Black, despite black being their favorite color. But detecting ghost workers on paper and getting rid of the bad guys working within the system is all part of their work.

“During the current Asian economic crisis, many financial institutions and corporations have asked us to undertake fraud-related and asset searching assignments to help them recover problem loans and reduce losses,” Simon notes.

“The global economic downturn has heightened the pressures and incentives to commit fraud. Economic crime is persistent. No organization or industry is immune from the threat of fraud,” says Aaron.

“Bribery used to be thought of as necessary to doing business in certain markets. Its particularly prevalent in developing countries but now governments all over the world are cracking down on corruption with serious consequences for both companies and executives,” elaborates Simon. “Doing business in emerging markets is the norm in today’s global economy, but the rules of engagement have changed significantly over the past few years. Governments around the world are taking tougher stances on corrupt business practices like bribery and money laundering,” he continues.

“What company leaders don’t know can hurt them. They are being held accountable even when they have no specific knowledge of the wrongdoing. What are CEOs most concerned about? The company’s managers, shareholders, and suppliers probably run through this guessing game regularly. But there’s one serious risk that many may be overlooking: being unprepared for a new era of international anticorruption enforcement.

Many organizations take reactive approaches to situations; that is, only when a problem and ‘the money has gone’ or when someone sends an anonymous letter to the company or, worse, when an enforcement body calls to inform them of an inquiry do they mobilize resources and begin to address potential corruption issues.

“While many companies have anticorruption compliance programs in place, the programs are often outdated or merely ‘paper’ programs that are not effectively implemented throughout the company,” explains Aaron.

“We are excited about this new alignment of our services and bringing them together in Thailand. The global market is forever changing and Thailand is no exception, especially at the moment, and security levels need to be set in place from different angles. It’s a challenge we relish”.

Observing the corporate future in Asia as being positive, Simon adds,  “As Asia starts recovering from the crisis, we are seeing our core due diligence capabilities being in high demand as returning investors look to mitigate the risks of doing business in Asia. At the same time, there are always fraudsters out there to work on.

For more information on their services, please visit -

www.leboutilliergroup.com

www.globalinsight-group.com

Published by Traversing The Orient Magazine. You want to make an online travel business? Please go to www.web.com.

Eyes Wide Open

Burmese protest singer Mun Awng’s songs rage against a regime that crushes the hopes and aspirations of a nation. Jim Algie recalls a live performance and speaks with Mung Awn.

The Burmese singer, wearing a red headband emblazoned with a golden peacock that symbolizes the outlawed National League of Democracy party led by Aung San Suu Kyi, took the stage in Bangkok to commemorate the 10^th anniversary of the 1988 uprising in Burma. Armed now with only an electric guitar and an electrifying voice, instead of the gun he had carried as a rebel soldier, Mun Awng introduced the first tune.

“This song translates in English as ‘Tempest of Blood.’ It’s about the massacre that began on August, 8, 1988, and the lyrics come from a poem written by a student leader named Min Ko Maing. He was sentenced to 20 years in prison back in 1989 and is still in solitary confinement. The poem talks about how the blood shed in the streets will never disappear. When the sun shines, it vaporizes and forms a big red cloud that rains down on the streets, and into the rivers and the seas,” he said, before beginning his solo show.

The Burmese students on hand, wearing the same headbands as the singer, shouted out every word of the song while clapping their hands and stomping their feet, as the minor-key verses – echoes of Neil Young – exploded into a rabble-rousing chorus. And you did not need to speak Burmese to understand the emotional overtones of this rallying cry. It was the sound of a people, choked by censorship and beaten down by the military, spitting out their rage over the junta’s killing of some 3,000 protestors on the streets of Rangoon.

Mun Awng, the stage name of Dennis Daws, was one of those protestors. When he saw television footage of the 2007 protests in Burma and the detainment of monks, from his home in Norway, it was almost a déjà vu of 1988, “except there was more shooting then and people look even poorer and thinner now than before. They didn’t use riot police this time I think, but that’s the only difference,” he says over the phone.

Did the monks also participate in the 1988 protests?

“They joined in, but this time they led the people. A lot of people really hoped that the army might compromise and not do any shooting but they expected a lot. I was very skeptical and I never underestimate this military,” he adds.

In 1988, Mun Awng was at the pinnacle of pop stardom in Burma. But his nasty experiences during the bloodbath, like watching a friend get shot in the cheek, the bullet coming out through his throat, and seeing the severed heads of protesters lining a street corner in Rangoon, forced him to change his tune. Shunning the spotlight, he joined a rag-tag army of young dissidents named the All Burma Students Democratic Front (ABSDF). From a base camp high in the jaggedly mountainous jungle along the Thai-Burmese border, he and his fellow soldiers-of-conscience waged guerrilla warfare against the heavily armed junta. “It was a losing battle,” says the 47-year-old. “We didn’t even have enough to eat.

“When I became a soldier I realized that mentally I could do it but physically it was difficult to live in the jungle, sleeping anywhere, always having to sleep with your gun on your right side, your bullets and equipment on the left side, so you’re always ready for an attack even when you go to the toilet. I didn’t enjoy being a soldier, but I wanted to show my solidarity with the other students,” says Mun Awng, who was born into a Christian family in the northernmost state of Kachin, where his father taught English and Mathematics.

Then, he and his fellow troops thought the junta might be overthrown in a couple of years. Now, he says sadly, some renegades from the ABSDF are still fighting up in the no man’s land of the Thai-Burmese border.

Abandoning the front lines for a recording studio in Bangkok, he laid down the tracks for his fifth, and most political album yet, called Battle for Peace (released in 1992).  For the first time, he was not muzzled by the censorship laws that govern every aspect of Burmese society: music, TV, paintings, magazines, and radio.

Even though his first four albums were heavily censored, Mun Awng built up a sizeable following. His most vocal supporters were university students, says the editor of The Irrawaddy, Southeast Asia’s most hard-hitting magazine about life behind Burma’s “Bamboo Curtain”. Aung Zaw recalls listening to his early albums in tea shops, along with other students, who were similarly impressed by Mun Awng’s melodic depictions of “life, struggle, courage, romance and some philosophy,” he writes in an email.

Some of Mun Awng’s banned songs like “Scarecrow” became touchstones for pro-democracy revolutionaries, who sang them at clandestine gatherings on college campuses, often in ladies’ dormitories. “We played all night,” writes Aung Zaw, “and in some cases we would tell the girls in advance so they could prepare food and snacks, cheroots and song requests that the security guards would come and deliver. Sometimes they [the guards] would tell us to go away, or [they would] stay and listen all night.”

At these jam sessions “Scarecrow” was a much-requested song that is still in demand at rallies today. It was written from the perspective of a rank-and-file soldier in the junta. As Aung Zaw translates the lyrics, ““Dead or alive, sacrificing my life for my country/Gold and silver stars on my shoulder/Oh my friend, what honor and rewards I would get/My heart is crying while my mouth was muzzled from telling the truth/A pierce through my eyes which have seen the truth/Oh my friend, I am a scarecrow in human form/Though I am alive, I am no longer living.”

In the genre of anti-war songs that usually take aim at the military industrial complex (Bob Dylan’s “Masters of War”), or side with the victims and the underdogs (Bob Marley’s “Buffalo Soldier” or “Tommy Gun” by The Clash), Mun Awng’s tune is one of the few that dares to bridge the battle lines by showing the oppressor how he’s being oppressed.

The junta silenced this campus tradition by closing many of the universities. And some of Mun Awng’s musical contemporaries from that era like his close friend Ye Lwin (the bassist and songwriter for Mizzima Wave) were jailed for their political allegiances during the 2007 crackdown.

Throughout the 90s Mun Awng was one of the few Burmese voices to be heard inside and outside Burma, both as a singer and a pirate radio broadcaster. His 1992 album Battle for Peace was accompanied by a tour of Burmese refugee camps in Thailand. Thousands of his cassettes were given away for free. He also worked in a small studio along the Thai-Burmese frontier recording news programs, radio dramas and songs by himself and other singers, which were mailed to Oslo. In Norway, on a powerful radio station, the programs were beamed back into Burma seven days a week for 30, and then 90, minutes per day. Because the junta rained bombs on any of the studios or pirate radio stations along the border, he was eventually reassigned to Norway, where he became the manager of the Democratic Voice of Burma station.

The shock of landing there, when the country was locked in the crypt of winter, is still fresh in his mind. “It was 35 degrees Celsius when I left Bangkok and minus 14 in Norway. I’d never seen so much ice and snow in my life,” laughs the musician, who, inspired by local pop singers and The Beatles, began playing guitar and singing when he was still a boy.

Uncomfortable with being the boss, and feeling that he was not on the same wave-length as some of his cronies, he resigned after three years on the station, believing that he could do more for his people as a protest singer than as a radio broadcaster or a soldier. “The best thing about music is… there’s no bloodshed,” he notes.

In Oslo, with an accomplished band of local musicians laying down the bedrock of drums and bass, embellished by strings, keyboards, and saxophones, he recorded Path to Freedom in 1998. Many of the songs on it, he says, were passed down in true blues fashion from one musician to another – campfire music for outposts of Burmese dissidents and refugees.

Then he embarked on another series of gigs at refugee camps, including a nursery, “the best gig I ever had,” he says with a smile in his voice. Once again he gave away thousands of free cassettes, some of which were smuggled into Burma, a risky enterprise considering his name is blacklisted from all forms of media in the country, though some of his albums can still be purchased under the table in shops. This tour of duty culminated with the raucous show in Bangkok to commemorate the 10^th anniversary of the pro-democracy revolt in August 1988 that resulted in a death toll of some 3,000 souls.

Six years later, the song he played first that night, “Tempest of Blood,” with lyrics by the still-incarcerated student leader, became the climactic track on a two-disc benefit album called For the Lady: Dedicated to Freeing Aung San Suu Kyi and the Courageous People of Burma, alongside tunes by U2, Coldplay, REM, and Ben Harper. Mun Awng is the only Burmese artist on the album. “I couldn’t believe it,” he says, “being on this album with all these huge stars. It was exciting. I really didn’t think it would happen. We’d already distributed the song for free, so why not put it on the album?” he says, laughing off his sheepishness.

Either on- or off-stage, and even in exile, Mun Awng retains that happy-go-lucky spirit one sees so often in Burmese people and which seems all the more remarkable for the hardships they’ve had to endure since martial law became the rule of thumb in 1962. Even his sister, who is a veterinarian and still lives in Kachin state, makes the usual civil servant’s wage of around US$15 dollars per month.

But Mun Awng’s star turn on the benefit album may very well be the swan song for his music career. Over the last few years, he has only performed live at a couple of Burmese fund-raisers in Japan and London. He hasn’t written or recorded any new material. There is no audience for his brand of agit-pop in Norway. And in the village outside Oslo where he lives with his Burmese wife and their 10-year-old daughter, the former singer and guitar-slinger, who also holds a Bachelor of Science degree in Mathematics, now works in a wood-coating factory. “Music is very far away from my life now. I have to pay my daily bills,” he says, laughing again, but this time it sounds brittle. This time there’s a note of resignation in it.

Still, the country’s most famous musical exile remains hopeful that the military regime cannot tyrannize Burma forever.

“I do have hope. As far as I know, they (the pro-democracy protestors) are not giving up. I think almost everyone in Burma wants a change. Only a handful of people who are enjoying the riches want the regime to continue. Everyone else is fed up. People love Daw Aung San Suu Kyi and that’s what makes the military afraid of her. She is one hope for Burma. We have many activists working and ready to sacrifice everything, but they are always working behind the scenes, not on the front lines.”

In spite of the junta’s intransigence and the fact they have banned Aung San Suu Kyi from participating in the first elections to be held in years, Mun Awng is buoyed up by his faith in the Buddhist law of impermanence.

“In the Burmese way, in Buddhism, anaisa means nothing exists forever. There will be a change. I just hope we are alive when that day comes.”

Published by Traversing The Orient Magazine. You want to make an online travel business? Please go to www.web.com.

Combat Rocker

Claudia Orrell joins the growing throng of geocachers, to find out what the buzz is about

A china box near Ruam Rudi, a coiling dragon in Benjakiti Park, Wat Suthat and the giant swing, ballroom dancing in Lumpini – looking for a new way to experience the city?

Then perhaps geo-caching is the thing for you.  A high-tech treasure hunting game played by adventure seekers equipped with GPS devices, there are some 1,010,746 caches around the world. A geo-cache (pronounced geo-cash) is a hidden container, it can come in the form a tupperware box, an ammo box, or some other small container, holding a log book, and often a host of goodies left by previous treasure hunters. The idea is to track the cache down, using your GPS device and a short (sometimes cryptic) clue and then log your experience in the log book. You can take an item from the cache once you find it, but if you do, the honorary code is to leave an item in return.

I tried my hand at this illusive pass time in Singapore last week. My friend and I had a quick look on www.geocaching.com, downloaded a quick bit of software to her laptop, the Geocaching application to my iPhone, and within 15 minutes we’d discovered the nearest cache was just five minutes away in the Botanical Gardens. Perfect…let’s try this thing, have stroll round the gardens before a fry-up brunch.

We pottered out, curiously watching the map on my phone screen, where a little green arrow showed us the location of our geocache, and a blue dot showed our current placement. The cache, entitled Trickle, Trickle, Splash, Splash, had been placed by Indiana Janes and Decoy Dog back in 2006, and had last been found just one week previously. We were quite confident we’d find it in a few moments – as two intelligent women, how hard can this be?

We quickly found the stream that was mentioned in the cache description, and as my iPhone started telling me we were just three feet away, we were getting quite buzzy with the whiff of success in the air. We took a couple of steps, then my iPhone said 12 feet away. Eh? How can that be…we only moved two steps. We moved back. This time it said five feet. Hmm, perhaps my iPhone was on strike after the beer spillage the night before. We started tracing the area, step by step. We were getting some strange looks from other folk in the park. There was a group having a picnic and I was convinced their bags were hiding our treasure.  I later discovered that these lay people, the non-geocachers, are referred to as muggles (think Harry Potter), and in theory, you’re not supposed to let them see you behaving oddly with a GPS device. Oops!

We traced backwards and forwards, looking left, right, up and down, and after 40 minutes with our eyes glued to the same 10 foot square of land, we were getting hungry and hot in the sun. We decided to call it a day. Maybe this was normal…first try and all that!

Geo-caching has its roots back in 2000, when the switch was flicked putting an end to selective availability of GPS reception. As 24 satellites across the globe processed their new orders and the accuracy of GPS technology increased tenfold. For GPS enthusiasts, this was definitely a cause for celebration, and internet newsgroups suddenly teemed with ideas about how the technology could be used.

On May 3, one such enthusiast, Dave Ulmer, wanted to test the accuracy by hiding a navigational target in the woods. He called the idea the “Great American GPS Stash Hunt” and posted it in an internet GPS users’ group. The idea was simple: hide a container out in the woods and note the coordinates with a GPS unit. The finder would then have to locate the container using his or her GPS receiver. The rules for the finder were simple: “Take some stuff, leave some stuff.”

On May 3rd he placed a container in the woods near Beaver Creek, Oregon, near Portland. Along with a logbook and pencil, he left various prize items including videos, books, software, and a slingshot. He shared the coordinates of his “stash” with the online community.  Within three days, two different readers had used their own GPS receivers to find the container, and shared their experiences online. Throughout the next week, others excited by the prospect of hiding and finding stashes began hiding their own containers and posting coordinates. And so geo-caching was born.

My second experience of the game, was, I’m pleased to say, rather more successful. Back in Bangkok, feeling slightly more realistic about my technical skills, I decided to go for a cache with an “easy” rating, located nearby at Benjasri Park, with the comforting title of One Degree of Separation. I shan’t reveal the details of the location, for fear of spoiling it for those that might want to try it. But to my delight, I found a little container, with the log book. For those that want to try this one, BYOP – or bring your own pen, as the lingo goes.

Every cache has an owner, who places it in a particular location for some reason or other: perhaps because it’s a lovely park to visit, or because someone recognizes that a particular view or location of a city is rarely seen, and should be. If you’re feeling adventurous you can try some of the trickier caches: a mystery cache could be next on my list.  These involve complicated puzzles that you need to solve before determining the coordinates of the cache.

If you’re looking for something a bit different to try in the city, or somewhere you’re visiting, it’s certainly a fun trip out with friends…you can even make it a little competitive. It also makes for a fun family activity, looking at the posts on the website it seems to be enjoyed by people from all age groups, bringing with it a strong sense of community and respect for the environment. Bringing together people, technology and the planet, I suspect this game will not be some short-lived fad.

Geocaching: The Basics

Getting started

• Register for a free basic membership
• Click “Hide & Seek a Cache”
• Enter your postal code and click “search”
• Choose any geocache from the list and click on its name
• Enter the coordinates of the geocache into your GPS Device
• Use your GPS device to assist you in finding the hidden geocache
• Sign the logbook and return the geocache to its original location
• Share your geocaching stories and photos online

Before You Go

• Find a geocache that’s right for you. Are you looking for a difficult hike or an easy adventure?
• If you’re heading out on the trail, pack any needed supplies such as water, food and extra clothing. Bring both a map and a compass. Check geocache terrain and difficulty ratings.
• For safety, let someone know where you are going.
• Do not forget your GPS

Share Your Experience

• If you take something from the geocache, leave something of equal or greater value.
• Write about your experience in the geocache logbook.
• Place your geocaching stories and photos online.

With 1,010,746 active geocaches around the world, there’s many a cache out there

• Bangkok 120
• Manila 17
• Singapore 214
• Kuala Lumpur 80
• Sydney 2829
• New York 18258
• London 24133
• Hong Kong 259
• Paris 2205
• Hanoi 22

A quick language guide

Spoiler

In geocaching, a spoiler gives away details of a cache location and can ruin the experience of the find.

Muggle

A non-geocacher. Based on “Muggle” from the Harry Potter series, which is a non-magical person. Usually this term is used after a non geocacher looks puzzled after befriending a geocacher searching for a cache, or when a non-geocacher accidentally finds a cache. Geomuggles are mostly harmless.

Mystery or Puzzle Caches

This is one of several cache types. This form of cache can involve complicated puzzles you will first need to solve to determine the coordinates. Examples include complicated ciphers, simple substitutions, arithmetical quizzes and clues cleverly hidden within the graphics. Due to the increasing creativity of geocaching this becomes the staging ground for new and unique challenges.

Ground Zero (GZ)

The point where your GPS device shows that you have reached the cache location. At Ground Zero, you are zero feet (or zero meters) away from your destination.

BYOP

Bring Your Own Pen/Pencil. An acronym often used by cache owners to communicate to other geocachers that you will need to bring your writing utensil in order to sign the cache logbook.

Published by Traversing The Orient Magazine. You want to make an online travel business? Please go to www.web.com.

Geo-caching in the city

German photographer Reinhard Hennig offers TTO readers a view of his work documenting life in Laos

Reinhard Hennig began his career in photography in Madrid in the mid ‘80’s. His profession has seen him travel much of the world, working alongside notable artists such as David Bailey.

Today he uses Bangkok as a base to travel the region.

The following images are part of a long term project to capture all aspects of Lao life in one volume. Documenting the people of southern Laos in their natural environment the pictures record a world on the cusp of change.

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The Fisherman.

This fisherman was living in a little bamboo hut at the southern end of Don Det. Most of his time would be spent on braiding baskets. The fish he caught were for his own consumption. Don Det, together with Don Kohn and Don Khong have become prominent spots on the traveler’s route through Southeast Asia.

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Waterfall

Sunset over a waterfall on a Xe Kong tributary river in Sekong Province. The mighty Xe Kong, fed by numerous rivers, has its source in the Annamite Mountain range and stretches for several kilometers across southeast Lao and into Cambodia.

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An old woman selecting herbs in the village of Toum Lan near Salavan

In this region family clans of around 30 people live together in longhouses. At night, a concert of noises fills the air. Privacy as we know it doesn’t exist here. Some battery driven CD players are announcing the modern times. The kitchen is often located in a small hut beside the longhouse, if not inside the longhouse itself. This old lady stoically ignored my presence while I photographed her.

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Old men drinking

Drinking and smoking is a big pleasure for these old fishermen on Lopardi Island. They start with Lao Lao (rice whisky) at midday and while away the lazy afternoons in a state of mild inebriation. Meanwhile, the women take care of the houses and cook the meals.

Lopardi is part of an area called 4000 islands, where the waters of the Mekong River form a giant delta before descending into several huge waterfalls. Lopardi Island has no tourism yet, but electricity has finally reached the island, making the islanders lives a little easier.

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Girl in Toum Lan.

She was very shy in front of the camera but after several attempts I managed to get a nice picture of her.

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Boy with a bird – Lopardi Island & Woman preparing material for braiding baskets – Lopardi Island

The boy caught this little bird himself and tied it to his hand. From time to time he’d throw it into the air and watch the bird do a series of pirouettes in an attempt to fly away. After a while, this game got boring, and the little bird was plucked alive and placed on a charcoal grill.

Lopardi is well known in the southern regions of Lao for its artistic braiding work. This young woman is smoking a mix of home grown tobacco and herbs.

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Six o’clock, road block & Tribe’s people at the river, in Attapu Province

This militia man blocked the road together with a colleague near a village called Patao Namho, in the beautiful mountainous region between Paksong and Sekong. Normally, a few cigarettes are enough to allow you through.

This place was pretty busy because a dirt road to Attapu started here. People from the villages would cross the river to access a small market. Some of the travelers were Vietnamese people, whose influence is very strong in Attapu.

Published by Traversing The Orient Magazine. You want to make an online travel business? Please go to www.web.com.

Southern Laos Far from the BEATEN TRACK

This report is brought to you by COPE – a Laos based organization which provides prosthetics and mobility devices for those who need them while educating the public about America’s Secret War.

On the 1^st of August 2010 a treaty banning cluster munitions will come into effect to place Laos at the forefront of an international legal process. The treaty acknowledges a history that has never made it into the textbooks of school children anywhere in the world. Signed by 104 countries it finally brings to light the damage still being done to communities in 24 countries around the world.

During the years of the Second Indochina War (1964-1973) more explosives were dropped over Laos than were dropped in Europe during the whole of the Second World War, equivalent to a plane load every eight minutes for nine years. Cluster bombs were a major part of the bombing strategy and were used in greater numbers than had ever been seen before, or since.

A cluster bomb can come in various guises – the most common types used over Laos were large cases containing 680 tennis ball sized bombs. Each with a killing radius of 30 meters, one large case would ensure complete devastation over an area of three football fields. In all over 260 million individual cluster bombs were dropped over Laos. The level of bombing is hard to comprehend but what is harder to imagine is that for many people in Laos the risks from these bombs continue to affect their daily lives.

The issue being the failure rate, estimated at 30%. Armed by a spinning motion and detonated by impact, dropping from too low a height or into soft ground, planted deadly time capsules, waiting for the jolt of a farmers hoe or to be picked up by a curious child. Some 80 million of these remained after the war and are still robbing people of lives and limbs at a rate of around 300 a year throughout Laos.

The National Regulatory Authority (NRA) is the Lao government agency whose role is to coordinate the activities of numerous organizations assisting in the clean up and assistance efforts.  Their survey showed 50,136 Unexploded Ordnance (UXO) casualties reported between 1964 and 2008, with 20,726 survivors living without a limb as a result of contact with unexploded ordinance.

One local project has been in Laos for almost 12 years, developing rehabilitation services including artificial limbs. COPE works in partnership with the government services and has developed an exhibition to show the work that is being done to help people move on after an accident and give the stories of some of the survivors a place to be seen and heard. Wider issues of disability are covered. This innovative exhibition is a must on any Vientiane itinerary.  Expect to be taken on a journey that COPE hopes will inspire you to get involved, get informed and get this issue the attention it deserves.

This free exhibition is actually inside the grounds of the National Rehabilitation Centre, staff can either guide you through or you can work your way round in your own time. Walking into this converted shed the first exhibit shows exactly what 680 cluster bombs looks like. Hand made by the rehabilitation staff, used to using plaster of paris to build replacement limbs, instead they made 680 small ‘bombies’ which scatter out above your head.

This sets the scene for understanding the sheer scale of the problem in Laos and the wide range of explosives that clearance teams have to deal with. Properly defused items are shown and the technology developed to ensure maximum killing efficiency is a sobering start to the exhibition. The facts are laid out leading to a map showing the area of the bombing.

A map of Laos adorns one wall. It is generated using patchwork images of Lao people, with bombing data from the US Air force overlaid onto it the landscape is permanently tainted by the bombing. Each red dot that obliterates innocent faces is a bombing mission. Over half a million of them dramatically illustrate the devastation that still affects the lives of remote villagers.

Scrap metal is an increasing part of the cash economy of villagers. A familiarity with bombs that have been part of communities for almost 40 years dilutes the fear and the cash paid by collectors rewards the risk takers. Every day scraps of metal are levered from the ground by hand, identified by crude detectors. Collected in rice sacks and melted down to become reinforcing rods for concrete. The risks are described in this part of the exhibit and photos show just how much a part of life these remnants of war have become. The craftsmanship and innovation is admirable, rice cookers, knives and boats are featured here, children playing around stacks of bomb casings in a strange juxtaposition of war and peace.

A small house illustrates the access problems for people in wheelchairs and gives a glimpse into rural life. Items made from UXO are displayed here and a radio documentary gives more insight into the scrap metal trade in Laos.

Stepping down out of the house leads you into a small shop, reminiscent of those in rural areas where a TV shows an interview with a family who lost their son. Hamm is not someone that can be helped now but his family wanted their story to be told and this exhibit does it justice. The low point reached, stories of recovery and rehabilitation follow.

Ta’s Story

Ta is a survivor and spokesperson for survivors of cluster munition accidents, his story is sadly too common. Out fishing with his two sons he saw a cluster bomb lying in the dirt. A poor fisherman with a large family to feed the temptation to throw it into the water to help catch fish was too great. Sending his children to hide behind a tree he approached the bombie. As soon as he touched it, it exploded. It took nine hours for his sons to get him to the medical care that saved his life. Ta lost both arms and one of his eyes in the accident, his family lost everything to pay for his medical care. Back at home he describes how he had to ‘eat like a dog’ until he was taken to the National Rehabilitation Centre where his care was funded by COPE.

Fitted with two artificial arms, photos show him back at home with his children, able to hold hands with the smaller ones again. For people who have lost lower limbs home made legs can be a way of regaining mobility. They are not comfortable and cause long term problems but a lack of awareness that there are services available means that for many people with disabilities they have to find their own solutions.

A display of legs hanging from the ceiling shows the levels of innovation, from simple bamboo to beautifully carved legs with ankle bones, all having obviously walked some distance with an owner who has eventually found their way to receive a properly fitting limb. The importance of a proper fit is underlined by the rest of the display that describes how the limbs are made and the level of training given by COPE to ensure a high quality service.

All the devices are made by local staff and an extensive training programme, including physiotherapy is also described. Treatment for club foot is illustrated and a mirror box gives a bizarre glimpse into the world of phantom pain often experienced by amputees. It isn’t painful! But the exhibit shows the ways that rehabilitation restores, rebuilds and repairs broken limbs and lives.

There is no entry fee to the COPE visitor centre but donations are appreciated. All proceeds go to fund treatment costs for patients which can be as little as 200 US dollars. The exhibition is open every day from 9 until 6, is air conditioned and has a small café attached. There is a small cinema and a resource area where you can learn more about the issue and the gift shop has a number of ways that you can show your support.

Be part of a success story, visit and help COPE help people move on.

Published by Traversing The Orient Magazine. You want to make an online travel business? Please go to www.web.com.

America’s Secret War 1964 – 1973 Moving On

The German philosopher Friedrich Haller’s latest philosophical work, “Science and State in the Western World as Late Forms of Theological Madness” (2008) is currently being translated into English and is due for publication later this year. In this article he outlines what prompts him to spend most of the year in Thailand and other Asian countries, in self-imposed exile from his native Germany.

In his book “It’s a Doggy-dog World” Douglas Michaels refers to the story, “Dogs”, by Steve Hands (TTO issue July 09), as follows:

“It’s about a Philippine fisherman who cooks his dogs in front of an idealistic foreigner when she tries to save them, and it ends with him telling her, ‘Back off bitch. These are my dogs. My dogs.’
What he really means is ‘It’s my country,’ which is exactly what my lawyer said to me when I got released from prison (in Cambodia) after he won my case in court. The American government had been involved in my investigation and set-up, and that pissed him off. He really didn’t believe America had any right to tell him or his people how they should conduct themselves in his country.

Which is cool.

But it also goes to show that the law in any country seems to just turn us into judicial dogs.
In Germany it is the genuine philosopher who is treated like a dog. Douglas Michaels complains about the US that “over here every time I serve someone a conversational ping pong ball, they just walk away with it or stomp on it or feed it to their fucking dog.” I’ve had the same experience – and probably worse – in Germany, where giving evidence of being alive is the greatest offence you can commit in the “Volk der Dichter and Denker”, followed by the capability to adequately judge reality. All ‘poets and thinkers’ have died from strangulation – the great Nietzsche is the most striking example. Even today the finest soul Germany has ever produced is not acknowledged as such – any German clerical buffoon gets a street named after him, yet you can scarcely find a Nietzsche Street bigger than an alley.

In Germany, with a total misunderstanding of man’s nature, ‘national laws’ are made on the basis of a perverse religion, which leads to the numbing of life and the annihilation of men. Plato’s doctrine of ideas despises men: no one can cope with the idea of man; thus the man we encounter is worthless; he is deficient; one cannot love him, one can only love the ideal. He who loves God must hate Men. The so-called philosopher despises men, and despises himself. He thinks it would be better to be dead – rather, never to have been born.

A state that deprives a father of his children, on the basis of a deeply man-despising religion like the Christian with its whorevenerating destructive purpose, establishes an anti-natural perversion in the human species. To take a father’s children away was the most infamous act that the ancients could conceive of. But this is common in Germany’s judicial system: it happened to me and to many hundreds of thousands of men, most of whom additionally become impoverished through monthly payments and live like slaves in complete sexual deprivation.
The Roman historian Tacitus in “De Germania” mentions a bizarre German tribe, which differs through the perversity “Quod femina dominator: in tantum non modo a libertate, sed etiam a servitude degerant”. (Tacitus, De Germania, Chapter 45. “that the woman has the power, so that they lose not only the sense for freedom, but also for slavery.”) – similar, by the way, to the Jews who oppose all other mortals (Tacitus, Historiae V, 4 and 5).

In Asia, on the contrary, a philosopher is recognized and honored: people are interested and listen – there is no fighting over imaginative “truth”, and a good-hearted man is taken care of by a natural woman unspoiled by crap Western ideas.

And Thailand is better off than the other countries of the East because it still manages to preserve some Buddhist culture – it hasn’t been uprooted by Americanization or from having some weird religion forced upon it. It’s an excellent place to study human nature – you encounter many unusual people who have fled Western countries they could no longer stand, and who are acquainted with the ultimate boredom of their fatal homeland.
Nature – the philosopher’s best friend – and climate are generous here year-round, with a huge variety of food and fruit. It is a Tusculanum for those who wish to age in good health while living in peace among friendly people – not aging while ailing in a climate of mutual hatred, as is typical of the West. Dialogue is welcomed, not rejected, and not only the opinion of the herd is admitted in discussion, but also the views of experienced and advanced individuals who have the right to teach the unaware and misled not for their own but for society’s sake.
Traversing the Orient, new suns may reach the Western heart of darkness!

Published by Traversing The Orient Magazine. You want to make an online travel business? Please go to www.web.com.

The Philosopher as Dog