(Couch) Surfin' Safari

I've been wanting to write about this for awhile, but figured I'd wait until I had a little more experience with it under my belt. Well, given the wine I drank last night, I'm feeling pretty lethargic, and quite honestly, I just want to spread the word to those who don't know about it.

About a week before I left, contemplating different options and resources one might have to travel, I finally looked up something that I'd only vaguely heard of before - Couch Surfing. Figuring it was pretty much a simple database of people in different places around the world offering their couch to travelers, I decided to check it out. I set up a profile and dug in. But not terribly deep at first. Originally, as I said, I thought it was just people with couches - but as I explored the site, it turned out to be much more than that. Within the basic structure, there are hundreds of forums and discussion groups. I've only barely scratched the surface, but it seems that practically every country, region, city or even interests has it's own forum, and sub-forums besides. This is a huge community of people, getting together essentially for the benefit and betterment of everyone who cares to join. All (well - mostly) done selflessly and with goodwill.

My practical experience with it so far is still a little slim. After about 2 weeks in Vancouver, (almost having given up on the thing because I was unsuccessful in finding a couch for when I arrived) I decided to look at it a little closer. I joined the Vancouver CS community and arranged to meet with 5 people (a German, an Italian, 2 Japanese, and an American) for a bite to eat before we went to a bar to attend the weekly local "meet" (around 40-or-so others showed up) for some cheap drinks. I also invited my good friend Pat to join us. We had a blast! Lots of local people as well as travelers from all over the globe.

My second, and more lasting experience, was with Ivan - whom I wrote a bit about in my last entry. I won't go into the details of our week and a half adventure together, but it was because I saw his request on the "Canada rideshare" community that I found myself, quite unexpectedly, about 1400 miles south of Vancouver, in San Diego. Recently I saw someone looking for a driving partner to go from here to Chicago. I wrote to him, but haven't heard back yet. I've always wanted to see Chicago. This may seem a little haphazard - but for me, the unexpected is probably the thing I most value in traveling. It keeps things exciting, and, like stretching one's muscles it keeps a person flexible.

Now, an astute observer will notice that I haven't actually slept on anyone's couch. It's true - I haven't had any success, as of yet. Mind you - the only time I tried was when I first went to Vancouver. I sent out approximately 20 requests, with no positive replies. Considering it is best policy to send personalized messages to each prospective host (after all, they generally don't want to be simply a free bed for a night or two - most are looking to actually be a bit of an ambassador to their city and are interested in actually meeting people) , this was very time-consuming. Of course, my first weekend there was during the Van marathon, as well as hockey play-offs - very busy time in the city. Later, when I finally met some locals, one told me that he gets about 100 requests a week! It's not a perfect system, and I haven't attempted to surf again, but will definitely give it another shot. The site also provides an option for people to leave feedback for those that they meet. As one builds feedback, likely their chances of success increase.

The point of this entry, however, is not to relate my experiences with the site, but to encourage everyone to try it for themselves. If you have even the slightest interest in traveling, getting to experience people of other cultures, or even just meeting people in general, this is an incredibly useful (and inspiring) resource. And you don't have to be traveling or have a couch to participate - there is an option to simply be willing to go and have a coffee/drink with someone who is traveling through your town. Who knows, maybe that person will have a place for you to crash if you happen to be on their side of the world.

My profile:

http://www.couchsurfing.org/people/clyfhull/

Untitled (On Luck)

"Of course, I don't believe in witches...but there are witches."
-Argentinian saying

It seems to me that travelers tend to be a bit more superstitious than the average person. I'm not sure why. I haven't put a lot of thought into it, possibly it has something to do with the fact that a traveler's life is far less structured and "luck" or "omens" are a way of fending off chaos and randomness. I myself don't believe in such things, but still can't help but notice certain events and thinking them...interesting.

Ivan, my travel partner, and I arrived in Flagstaff, Arizona a week ago. Here, we met an Australian adventurer named Mick (his real name - no shit!) and, early Saturday morning we drove into the desert to do some exploring. Ivan took us to a little-known sacred mountain (apparently it isn't on any maps) in Navajo territory. He asked if we would like to climb it, but Mick refused, saying that he doesn't climb sacred areas unless invited. Fair enough. As we looked around the road, we noticed little petrified bits of wood that were now pretty much stone - or very hard beef jerky (the ground here is mostly red.) Thinking it looked pretty cool, I put one in my pocket without the others noticing. We left and checked out some some of the other places nearby. On our way back to town, a great dust storm blew up - so thick at times, it was like driving through dense, pink fog. We got back to town and Ivan went to a bar to watch a soccer game. I went to the hostel, excited to take a nap. As soon as I walked in, I was informed that neither Ivan nor I had a bed that night, as we neglected to inform them before we left that morning that we were staying. I looked around for other options (motels) but, it having been Memorial Day Weekend, even the lousiest of motel rooms were near $300. Ivan and I decided that it was time to move on. So we hopped in the truck and took off for the border. 45 miles south of town, we broke down and had to get towed back to Flagstaff. It was a rough night - the two of us sleeping together in the packed truck.

So the next day I started thinking about the previous day's events. I was sitting with Ivan and Mick, and asked if either of them had grabbed one of the rocks from the desert, as I had done. Amusingly, Ivan had, over which Mick laughed heartily and chastised him. "You realize," I said to Ivan "that we fucked ourselves!" Mick laughed harder. Of course, I wasn't entirely serious, but it was a hard thing to not notice.

The next day, Ivan (a very spiritual, superstitious person) asked me what I really thought about the stones, and if we should return them to where we'd gotten them. I had thought about this more myself, and reminded him of a story that he'd told me earlier in the trip. I don't remember exactly how it went, but it was essentially about a kindly old Chinese man who raised horses. One day his horses broke out of the stable and left him. "How unfortunate," said his friends. "Well, the horses have left, it's true. But I don't know if this is a good or a bad thing." Much later, all of the horses that had left, suddenly returned, and with many more besides. "How wonderful," claimed his friends. "Well, it's true - I have many horses, but I don't know if this is a good or bad thing, " said the exhausted man. I had remembered that I don't believe in "good" or "bad" luck. Yes, our plans came to a halt, but as the Chinese man said - I don't know if this was a good or bad thing. If it's not too trite sounding - "good" or "bad" is merely a matter of perspective. Indeed, I know that there are people who are quite ecstatic by these occurrences. Ultimately things just happen. If I want to inject any meaning into them, I don't see the stone as lucky or unlucky Rather, I like to think of it as having brought about the "winds of change" that blew the dust around that day. Neither malevolent, nor beneficent.

After that night in the truck, Ivan and I have been back in the hostel. I am on my way to San Diego today, but Ivan (who is fairly disabled) is stuck here waiting for repairs (given that his truck is a Japanese import, who knows how long that will take? Not to mention how expensive.) This morning, he told me that the hostel can only accommodate him until Friday because they have a 4 night maximum (we've been here a week now.) This, despite that he's somewhat of a regular here. Like the China man's friends - I feel bad for him. An hour ago, I am writing something completely unnecessary on the back of one of my homemade postcards of Halifax to leave for Ivan. Something akin to what I've been writing here. Ivan comes into the room, looks at the floor, says quietly, "So much beauty in this world.............What did I come in for - oh yes, my glasses." He immediately turns around and leaves. It kills me. I can't help but cry.

Fear: Part 2 (or "The World's Gonna End Tomorrow! Wanna Grab a Coffee Next Week?")

So we're facing the end of the world, again. Tomorrow, it seems, is the rapture. I guess this means that we'll never get to find out exactly what is supposed to happen on Dec 21st, 2012. Too bad - I was kinda lookin' forward to that one.

I've only been in Vancouver for a few weeks, but I can't help but notice a bit of anxiety - of a sense of doom. And not just in the city either - it came up on my short trip to the Island as well. I wonder if it's a new phenomenon here. A result of the earthquake in Japan. Or does it pre-date it, like a northern equivalent of the American west coast sliding into the sea along the San Andreas fault?

Obviously doomsaying is nothing new. What I find interesting, however, is that there is a certain degree of desire in some (a lot?) of us for it to be true - that we actually want the world to end. Seriously, how else can one explain the popularity of the qualitatively abysmal films of Roland Emmerich? (Director of "The Day After Tomorrow"and "2012", to name 2.) Perhaps I'm alone, but I think that at least part of the audience is secretly hoping that the heroes fail. I believe it stems from a basic human desire to be historically significant. After all, who wants to be completely forgotten in a hundred years? Of course, not everyone will do great (or even terrible) deeds, but if not as individuals, perhaps we can at least live during significant times. And what is more significant than the end of times?

But there is more to it than that. I've written before about the survival instinct - that for the last 10-12,000 years (beginning of "civilization") and especially the last 100 or so, we (homo sapiens) have been moving further away from, and essentially ignoring, 200,000 years worth of evolution. So much of our efforts were dedicated to simply surviving - shelter, food and defense. Most of us in the developed world no longer need to think about such things, at least not in a direct way (concerns related to working a job and paying a mortgage are not the same.) But on the odd occasion when one of our basic needs is lacking or threatened, so awakens the instinct to fulfill or protect it. And it can be invigorating! Like a dormant sense that has been awoken. Years ago, for some forgotten reason (I think it was my birthday, and I tend to hate birthdays - or I did for awhile) I was in a pretty foul mood. I was by myself and decided I wanted to get drunk. So I went to the bar where I worked and did shot after shot - with no effect (sometimes it seems like a mood can be so severe, no artificial means can alter it.) At closing time I decided to hit one of the late-night places in a slightly seedier part of town. As I turned a corner, some guy gave me a hay-maker right across the nose, completely out of the blue and for no reason. After I regained my senses I looked around, but he was already some ways away, and I didn't see much point in pursuing him. So I went into the bar to clean my bloody nose and have a shot of tequila, then went home. The odd thing was, I was in a great mood the next day. It was as if the guy literally punched some sense into me. The only explanation I could think of for my unexpected reaction was that it must have awoken some sort of primitive instinct in me - something that was long asleep, and now awake. I've had similar reactions upon hearing of various disasters - natural or otherwise. My over-riding reaction isn't grief for the victims, but a profound elation that I survived (the fact that I was never in danger is immaterial. Though, granted, had I been, my reaction might be different. I've never truly been in a life-threatening situation.) I've rarely admitted this to anyone due to the fact that surely some would consider me a sociopath (and perhaps rightly so.) (I must also concede the possibility that these instincts may largely be male-centric.) I believe that the "threat" of a soon-to-be armageddon reawakens those little-used instincts. It presents us with a "fight" - something that at least some of us rarely experience.

Tomorrow also happens to be the day that I am leaving on an adventure down through the States and into Mexico. I don't have a lot of money, I know next to nothing about my travel partner and the news reports of drug-killings on the northern border of Mexico are sensationalistic. I know there are people who think I'm insane (as well as people who would really think nothing of such a thing.) In any case - be it apocalypse or adventure - to quote an obvious song when writing about the end of the world as we know it - I'm "feelin' pretty psyched."

Cliff-Jumping (thoughts on fear, hope and faith)

(A couple of weeks before I left on my latest journey I was thinking a lot about the topics mentioned in the title. I present them in unconnected form because I'm too lazy to try and work them into a single, flowing essay.)

"The Physics of the Quest - A force in nature governed by laws as real as the force of gravity. If you're brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting - which can be everything from your house to bitter old resentments - and set out on a truth-seeking journey (either internally or externally) and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue; if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher; and if you are prepared, most of all, to face and forgive some very difficult realities about yourself, then the truth will not be withheld from you."

-From "Eat, Pray, Love" (The movie. This quote is not in the book.)

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On a quest for peace, one must ask what is preventing it in the first place. If I define or characterize peace as "satisfaction" with oneself and their situation. then logically, if one is not at peace, they must be dissatisfied. So what causes dissatisfaction? It seems that the only cause of a sense of dissatisfaction is that one imagines or dreams of a different situation which they imagine is better than their current one. There are two ways to go about dealing with this dissatisfaction - the first, and most obvious, is to work towards actualizing that situation. The problem is, even if one succeeds, the satisfaction derived from it will more than likely be impermanent. Dreams, or rather, hope, can be like a drug, or hunger - you can satiate hunger by feeding it, or realizing your hopes, but chances are, before long you will imagine something else to hope for, just as you will be hungry again in a few hours. Many would argue that this is how it should be - that "striving" is the point - we must have goals towards which we work. If you accept this, fine, but it's not the only way. The second way to deal with dissatisfaction is to confront, not the objective of hope, but the act of hope itself - to realize that hope is a distraction. If one wants to be satisfied here and now, one must distance themselves from the distraction of hope - to "conquer" it. If one is not distracted by what could be, only then can they truly appreciate what is.

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In the comic book series "The Sandman", Morpheus, the King of the Dreaming, ventures into Lucifer's Hell in order to reclaim something that was stolen from him. There, he finds the instrument and wins it back. At the conclusion of the confrontation, just as he was about to leave, Lucifer - surrounded by countless minions - asked Morpheus why he should let him go. Morpheus replies by asking him (paraphrasing) "What is hope, but a dream of something better? And what power has Hell over it's inhabitants without that hope?" Hope itself creates our hell. Fear, and it's despair, are nothing until illuminated by that hope.

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Hope is to fear, as light is to darkness. One cannot exist without the other. To hope for something is to fear its absence. If one is to conquer fear, they must do the same to hope. Hope does not conquer fear - it begets it.

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If we can become enslaved by our fears - so too can we be enslaved by hope.

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Fear for ourselves is a lack of faith in ourselves. As we learn to conquer our fears, our faith in ourselves increases. The final step is absolute confidence that comes without fear or contemplation. From that point we simply are and we do. Failure, of course, may still occur - we are none of us perfect in action or judgement - but it is no longer an impediment.

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A long time ago, my old friend Jane once said that I had no faith. I don't think she was just referring to a god, but in general. Slowly, very slowly over the years, I've been forcing myself to take chances when there is no guarantee of success (I guess that is what taking a chance is) and failure could mean disaster (or, you know, complete humiliation anyway.) I'm learning to jump without seeing a net - hoping it will be there.

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With each step I blindly take into nothing, only for my foot to find some purchase there, my faith increases slightly. Eventually, it would seem, I should come to a point where I would walk without hesitation. Without fear.

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Perhaps the reason I love adrenaline rush type activities is that it involves small jumps of faith. That, despite the seeming danger, I probably won't actually die. Every action done in this way helps to conquer fear by familiarizing yourself with it. We fear what is unfamiliar, and we are reluctant to face our fears - to familiarize ourselves with them. If there is nothing to fear, but fear itself...

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Years ago Frank Miller did a run in the Daredevil comic series. In it, DD's nemesis, the Kingpin, discovered his true identity and proceeded to strip the man of everything that he had and was. The idea being that to destroy the man was to destroy the hero. Then he realized his mistake - "I have shown him, that a man without hope, is a man without fear." When I first read that, I thought it was brilliant. Years later, in my most depressed and hopeless of states, the sentiment seemed a little hollow. After all, without hope, what is there? Now, on this journey and in life (and by slowly conquering my fears) I hope to learn that a man without fear has no need of hope.