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FEB 13, 2015       Morning Point of Franklin (Senior  Living Community)

 

 

 

FEB14, 2015          Bistro 226  (Fine Dining Restaurant/Bar  in Bargersville IN)  7pm-9pm

 

 

 

FEB 17, 2015         Christina Place (Senior Living Community, Franklin, IN )

 

 

 

FEB 21, 2015         Teddy's Burger Joint (Indianapolis, IN)  6pm till 9 pm

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End Of My Adventure

Saying Goodbye to Ho Chi Mihn(Saigon) Vietnam

My buddy Brent and I decided to go experience an authentic Vietnamese lunch in the city of Ho Chi Mihn. We opted to take a bicycle taxi to the restaurant which seemed like a good idea at the time, but we later realized it to be less than ideal. The initial ride in the cab of this cyclo-taxi left little to be desired other than maybe a cold beverage to counter the hot temperature of the day. After about twenty minutes, we arrived at the restaurant.

We figured it only fitting to order the prized Vietnamese cuisine while here in this country for the final day: a king cobra snake. The process by which one can enjoy this delicacy unravels as a sort of ritual in this culture. For example, the woman began by asking us the exact weight of the snake that we would consider eating. After this measurement (in kilograms) had been settled, as well as price, the woman led us to the back of the facility to view our lunch(still alive). We viewed the cobra in a bag that resembled something used to transport laundry(?). At his point, we realized that we were being treated as VIP guests. The woman asked if a salad and soup would be our preference. Not knowing any other option, we nodded in affirmation. As we stood there, four men came out to handle the snake. After opening the bag, one man held the head while another held the tail. Another, using very big scissors, cut the neck of the cobra as anther man held a large cup under this wound to catch the draining blood. Then the man inflicted a second wound whereby he exhumed the beating heart of the snake and placed it on a plate. It continued to beat while we watched with mouths open and lost for words. Then they took the snake to another room where it would be prepared for eating. The waiters led us to a private table upstairs.

About five minutes later, the waiters arrived with a flask and two shot glasses. They poured the blood of the snake into each shot glass and then brought out the plate containing the cobra’s heart and placed it on our table. Because my buddy and I could not decide what to say or do(or who would be the “guest of honor”), they cut the heart in half and put these portions into both shot glasses. Then they added some rice liquor and mixed it together. You guessed it. We downed the blood, heart, and liquor in one gulp. I cannot really describe the courage it takes to drink the raw blood and heart of a cobra, but I can assure you, it’s not for the timid. The taste and texture did not bother me to my surprise. The opposite could be said of the actual cooked snake(or was it?).

The salad came out after our vampire snake blood drinking experience. The salad consisted of pieces of vegetables and strange shapes of mystery meat. Actually, we knew exactly(well not exactly) what these were. The salad consisted of the internal organs of the snake. Brent tried the liver; he nearly gagged. He described it as there being liquid puss squishing out of it when he took a bite. Pieces of the snake meat(with skin) were also mixed into the salad of splendid wonder. I jokingly asked the waiter if he wanted some. Although he couldn’t speak a lick of English, he understood me. Laughing, he took a chunk of the snake and ate it! Then he picked up a piece and literally put it into my mouth. As I began chewing this very chewy specimen of grandeur, it reminded me more and more of the raw octopus I ate this past summer. The octopus took about five minutes to chew and swallow by nature of it being raw. This thought I shared with Brent as we both chewed and chewed....and chewed for nearly six minutes. Not to complain, because my standards of cuisine have dropped dramatically since joining the Millennium ship of paradise, but this snake might possibly qualify as my worst tasting meal ever. I decided to forgo the organs. Then arrived the skeleton of the snake. It apparently had been deep fried. I ate a portion of the bones, and not surprisingly, it tasted pretty good. Fried food always tastes good right? Then the soup arrived. The waiter subsequently used his chop sticks to pull out the head of the snake which he promptly placed on my plate. Brent and I both poked around at our meal, mostly eating the vegetables which still tasted like snake(because of the broth), then we took our leave. Before paying and leaving(still hungry), Brent wrapped up the tail of snake to present to Lisa as a gift. Later, she screamed as we expected. She’s like our sis that we like to tease, and she’s vegetarian, so grossing her out with our disgusting food experiments appeals to us.

Then more fun took place in the circus of my life in Vietnam. Our taxi-cyclists wanted to scam us. Their initial price of fifteen dong seemed to have inflated to 1,500,000 dong which basically equates to $75 for each of us. My driver actually pulled out a twenty dollar bill from my wallet. Hand in hand, we struggled for the bill. It was like trying to pry candy from a baby’s hand, but this guy appeared to be nearly 60 years old! He ended up putting it in his pocket. Never having seen such a desperate and pitiful person, one might think I’d be more willing to let him go. Nope. I quickly made my way to his cycle in effort to steal it. I figured I’d drive it a few blocks and hide it or wreck it beyond repair. Either way, I wanted to ruin that bike. To my dismay, after getting onto the cycle, I realized how much balance it required for one to drive it! The cab in front made it very wobbly and heavy. I started to feel sorry for the guy who had just ripped me off because of the shear difficulty of hauling me and this silly cycle around the city. I let him ride off, but then as I listened to Brent’s driver begging like the runt in the movie “Lord of the Rings, “ I got ticked off again and decided to chase my driver and take my money back. Then a scene opened up like in an action movie. I chased this dude a block or two with everyone watching. Coming up behind him I said, “Give me back my money, man.” He must have been scared because he pulled out all of his money. Then(don’t ask me why), I felt pity for this guy again. So I let him have my twenty, but I took everything else he had. What can I say, I’ve become a bit jaded out here in the land of insanity. As questions of human nature and abstract thoughts filled my mind, we made our way back to the rendezvous point where we caught our shuttle back to the ship of darkness.

The Great Wall

After spending an extensive amount of time researching this wonder of the world, Brent decided that the ideal spot to hike along the wall would be up on the mountain side of a local village about three hours outside of Beijing. The taxi ride to this village characterized one epic adventure by itself. We had to switch drivers because the first guy had no idea how to get to this place. Then we realized that the second driver didn’t know much more than the first. Neither spoke a word of English. Brent took out his GPS and we guided our driver to the village. Before he agreed to ascend the last twelve kilometers, he demanded more money. The other guys paid him, although I refused. The entire time we drove during this last leg, I contemplated all the ways I could physically reap harm on this guy for not honoring our original price. Then I observed that he displayed a weakness. Despite being distrustful himself, he actually perceived people in a trusting way. This I realized by nature of his choice to leave money in his visor near the dashboard. As he stopped to ask the Chinese locals for directions confirming the location of our destination, he didn’t have his money hidden. Finally, we reached the village. As he got out of the car, I grabbed a pile of his money from the visor and put it in my bag. After disappearing in the village, I counted the money. Unfortunately, it summed only 75 yen, about $15. Despite this disconcerting fact, the attempt to reclaim all of our cost on the final leg of the journey served to keep my from hurting this guy.

In general, the people in this area resemble those of Thailand and Vietnam. They live in poverty and will stop at nothing to sell you their goods and services. Bartering poses no issues here. In fact, all you need to say is, “No, I really don’t need it.” I ended up buying trinkets in the market for about 20% of the original asking price. They just keep responding in broken English, “Okay, you....friend....me give you price.....special.” The restrooms in general have no soap. The entire time, I wondered how this country can be the superpower of the world. The quick answer would be that the government holds the money while the people struggle to live.

After putting the taxi experience behind us, Brent, Keith, and I made our way to the guest house where we would be staying for the night. We decided to do our massive hike the following morning since the circus taxi ride exhausted most of our daylight hours. The village resembled an old ghost town in the wild west. Very few people could be seen, and old cars and miscellaneous machinery lined the sides of the dirt roads. Clearly, we were situated on an elevated portion of this great mountain.

Night had fallen by the time we located our guest house. A guest house compares to a hostel but with fewer people staying there. No reservations need be made in advance; you just walk into the building, and they know what you want. The price equates to about six dollars per night per person. This includes a room with beds. The family that owned this guest house did not speak a word of English. We used hand motions to communicate that we needed food. The woman brought out a piece of bread to presumably ask whether we wanted bread. We affirmed by nodding our heads. She ended up cooking a delicious meal of homemade bread, green peppers, omelets, and other vegetables. The bread might possibly have been the best I’ve ever tasted in my entire life. All the food tasted great. We could not believe the quality of this food. The price for all this food(and local beer) came to about 7 dollars per person.

We woke up at 4;00am to begin our hike up to the top of the mountain to access the Great Wall. It took about an hour to get to the peak. We climbed a ladder and entered the famous tower overlooking the entire region. We began our trek along the unrestored wall. It ought to be mentioned that signs specifically denied access to this portion of the wall although many people still choose to hike it. By nature of being unrestored, the exertion required to pass through the crumbling rocks and overgrowth of vegetation discourages the timid of spirit of even attempting this adventure. We had few problems other than one stretch that descended at a steep slope. The loose rocks and slippery terrain raised the intensity level just a bit. We ended up having to hold on to the sides of the wall as our feet slid down the terrain. Eventually, we made it to the final leg that intersected into the restored section. The greatest hurdle once arriving at the restored portion had nothing to do with physical exertion but only the thwarting away of Chinese locals trying to sell us trinkets. Still, I ended up with all kinds of souvenirs including a hat, magnet, post cards, chess board, and a T-shirt. These people are professionals.

After taking a cable car down the mountain side, we obtained taxi’s, buses, and trains until arriving at the ship again. We had to be back by the latter part of the afternoon to play a quartet set in the lounge. The total hike encompassed about 5 miles of the great wall. We literally saw no people until the very last stretch.

The Final Days

At this point, many of the faces and friends I knew when first signing on to this ship have since gone home. I’m a veteran here, jaded and mean. I typically wear my Chinese cap with the symbol of communism on the front (a red star) as a symbolic gesture of how this place seems to operate. Yesterday, a friend of mine went to his Fire Fighting safety training; the safety officer showed up late and told everyone just to sign the paper and they would receive certificates validating their completion of the training. It’s a circus here. Although management keeps maintaining that musicians must do shifts upstairs in the cafeteria, passing out plates and rolling cutlery, I only pretend to go. I sign into the computer and then go back to sleep. Although people know I”m doing it, they conveniently avoid addressing it with me because I’m an asset (and an asshole) for the entertainment here. My guitar solos in the theatre and lounges attract a lot of attention. At one point, my supervisor told me I’d be receiving a written warning for not rolling silverware upstairs; then he asked me to extend my contract, and miraculously the warning got lost in the commotion.

My buddy Brent and I picked up a bunch of mild, Kahlua, and Vodka so that we could make plenty of white russian drinks in our cabin during the crossing of the Pacific. It’s a nine day journey from Asia to Vancouver. We also picked up snacks and rented a lot of movies from the crew welfare office.

Our Trumpet player who replaced Andre ended up getting fired. He just couldn’t play the notes in the higher register and had issues sight reading. When one of the guest entertainers watched us perform for another entertainer, she requested to the bandmaster that we not use any trumpet for her show. This spurred a series of events that let to his dismissal. The next trumpet player is a friend of Brent. He used to be a Ranger in the special forces. In addition to telling us amazing stories of exploits taking out drug cartels and terrorists, I’ve enjoyed the lessons he’s given me in knife fighting, and military intelligence. He also plays well and despises the circus game here on the ship where we are expected to lie about not going up to the cafe to roll the silly cutlery. He might be resigning soon, as might a lot of others. I don’t mind the baloney as long as they turn their head to the fact that I don’t do any of these extra duties.

After accomplishing the exploration of the Great Wall of China, most of our time ashore has consisted of going to restaurants to find good food and beer. Japan impressed me in a lot of ways, but it surprised me as well. For example, they make amazing toilets that have temperature control for the seat and water(with the option to use toilet paper) as well as variations on flushing in order to conserve water. On the other hand, nobody speaks English in Japan. Of course, some do, but most of the locals do not. Japan also sports the nicest vending machines imaginable including coffee(warm or cold) and even beer; however, it’s difficult or nearly impossible to find an ATM or trash can. This paradox in their culture simply serves to arouse my curiosity. The most notable thing I saw in Japan would be the Hypo Center in Nagisaki where the atomic bomb exploded. An energy of sadness stills hovers there and never seems to fade no mater how many years pass.

On Saturday May 17th, we crossed the international dateline while making the crossing. This meant that the following day, presumably May 18, would actually be May 17th again. For some, the repeated day allowed them more time to enjoy the ship experience; for others, the extra day simply lengthened their confinement and suffering here.

On a musical level, I can honestly say that I’ve proven my reliability to others as well as myself by being here playing for entertainers from all over the world. The sight reading on this ship would weed out many guitarists; I’m respected by the entertainers and musicians here. I’ve also become more artistic in how I play and how I approach my time away from the instrument. I see the futility in rules and claims as to what others expect of me. I play the music as the music deems to be heard not how the listeners want it to sound. I live for the experiences I choose, not in a compromised state where I appease what others value. This journey through Asia has allowed me a great insight into myself even more so than the places I’ve seen.


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