Bruce Lee honored in Bosnia

What does Bruce Lee have to do with Bosnia? Did the Croats and muslims fight epic battles with Kung Fu?

A youth group in Mostar has erected a bronze statue of the Kung Fu master to promote ethnic understanding.

The city of Mostar was ravaged with war between Croats and muslims in the early 1990's. I visited the city a few years ago and took this picture of a man living amid rubble left from the war. It is a strange city full of contrasts: bullet holes in basketball goal backboards, children running into a school between bombed out buildings, and life where death was intended.

A shiny bronze statue of Bruce Lee will be a nice addition to things that leave visitors of Mostar scratching their heads.

Click here to read the article in USA today about the statue.

In my next life...

...I want to be a professional gamer. There is the money (upto 6 figures), the travel (tournaments in Belgium, South Korea, Sweden, South Africa, Singapore, and Chile), the ladies (yeah, right), and not to mention, the video games.

My name is Kelsey and I am a video game addict. I have been clean now for about 10 years.

From the first time I ate my first mushroom in Mario I knew I had a problem. Growing up my play was regulated by my father and his dreaded Nintendo Lock, which blocked anyone who did not know its combination from entering any games into the system.

I still play the occasional sports game, but know to avoid any role playing or first person action games if I ever want to do anything productive with my life. But still I wonder what it would be like to give-in and dedicate a good portion of my days to gaming.

Enter Jonathan Wendel, Professional gamer: He travels the world and earns upwards of $100,000 per year playing games. Each day he gets up, plugs-in, and plays 8 hrs of video games- practicing. This is where I should mention that I would probably grow tired of staring at a TV for 8 hours, but honestly, I'm not so sure.

Oh, to have the life of a traveling gamer/writer. Maybe if I pick up a lot of trash and help many old ladies across the street I can return as one in my next life.

Read more about Jonathan Wendel, aka Fatal1ty, in a recent ABC story.

You might be a Touron if...

A reader recently sent me his own "You might be a Touron if..." Here it is:

You might be a Touron if you...

"Accidently walked into an unmarked women's lockeroom in France and received nothing but friendly waves."
- M. Watkins

It sounds like Mr. Watkins enjoyed his trip to France. I will post this to my website. If you have your own "Touron if" visit www.travelin-light.com/touron_if to submit it.

The King of Crazy

You know 'em. They are everywhere. They often look like the rest of us at first glance, but after closer inspection you realize that you are sitting right next to one. The crazies are everywhere.

Today I met Lafayette's (IN) King of Crazy. His crown was a dirty hat that looked like it had been dragged behind a tractor except for the bill was flat as a table top. I was looking for a seat in a McDonald's crowded with seniors drinking excessive amounts of bargain decaf when I sat right beside him.

I sat down with my paper and he examined the headline. He tried to draw me in, "Glad to see no one died in Iraq."

I kept my response short trying to avoid a conversation of politics, "Yep."

He didn't get the hint and kept chatting away. It wasn't until he talked about how he worked security for George W at the Whitehouse and he once saw Laura banging one of GW's prostitutes up the side of the head with a frying pan that I started to really pay attention. It was after this revelation that I saw his outward telltale sign of looniness- plastic green Mardi Gras beads.

And the hits just kept on coming. Some other revelations from the King:

- The Chicago mafia were planning a hit at an upcoming Purdue basketball game. If you are going, don't worry, the King and his cronies will be working security.

- The King spent the summer of 1964 inventing conatgious diseases including the bird flu.

He is in his early 70's and says he suffers from Lou Gehrig's, diabetes, and several other diseases. The secret to his longevity despite being plagued with poor health: "Each day I tear a little piece off of my bible and eat it."

Did I mention he was a preacher too.

Craziness is the spice of life.

The Touron

I am teaming up with cartoonist, Geoff Hassing, to produce one of the funniest comic strips ever- THE TOURON.

At least we hope it's funny. We're still trying to figure out exactly who this Touron joker is and why his nose is so big and his eyes so googley.

Anyhow, we have a website. Check it out:

THE TOURON

Castle Dracula

(Castle Dracula, Romania)

I spent the night in Dracula's castle. Scary stuff. I recently contributed the story to the Arlington Heights Herald near Chicago. Check it out...

Castle Dracula

Where's the scariest place you've ever been?

Hostel

Hostels are awful, awful places filled with germs, drunk teenagers, and rats. I hope someday that I have enought money in the travel/writing pot that I can afford to stay somewhere else. Sure they're good places to meet people, but they're also good places to get a staff infection.

Quentin Tarantino is finally bringing the nightmare of Hostels to the silver screen with his aptly named movie, Hostel.

Watch the preview at Yahoo! movies. Keep in mind that most hostels aren't this bad.

Endless summer

Summer may have ended a month ago, but Kyle and I refuse to belive it. This past weekend we went down to Lake Cumberland in Kentucky for one last ski. The air was a tad bit cold, 50-60 degrees, but the water wasn't too bad, 70 degrees.

We skiied in beanies and rain jackets to combat the wind chill. Needless to say, we gave the drunk fishermen on the water something to talk about.

I made a page on my website for some of our friends who turned down the offer to accompany us on the adveture:

www.travelin-light.com/Cumberland

Welcome readers of The Hub Weekly

I am happy to report that the Hub Weekly of Champaign, Illinois, has picked up my column, "Travelin' Light." This is the column's second week in The Hub.

I would like to welcome the readers in Champaign to contact me with any questions, stories, hot tips, recipes, home remedies, story suggestions, business ventures, etc.

Milwaukee, a ghost town???

When I am walking by myself in big cities that may be a little sketchy (any Central American capital), I always make sure to stay in populated areas. If I find myself walking block after block and seeing no one I get nervous, "Is this a bad neighborhood? Should I not be here?" and then I turn around.

I feel much more comfortable on a crowded city street, filled with hustlers, pickpockets, and hookers, than vacant ones.

The entire time I was in Milwaukee with my father (see below post) we saw about four or five people on the street. This made me uneasy. I had never heard of Milwaukee being a dangerous place, but where was everyone? It kind of felt like an Armageddon, End of days, post-apocalyptic kind of thing. There were plenty of big buildings, Dunk 'n Donuts, offices, museums, etc., but no people to fill them.

Someone call Homeland Security, the people of Milwaukee have all been abducted!

Smart enough to keep my mouth shut

14 people, mostly strangers to one another, were sitting at a nice Italian restaurant in Milwaukee. My father, Ken, and I were among their number.

All of the men are in the truss or lumber business, as is Ken, and were being treated to a dinner by a lumber broker from Canada. One would expect the conversation to be filled with talk of wood mold, the influence of the recent hurricanes on lumber prices, pine vs. spruce, and other such riveting conversation...

I WISH!

Instead, the conversation, at the painfully slow restaurant, covered such don't-even-go-there topics like abortion, euthanasia, and the war in Iraq. On Dad's left side sat an ultra conservative church deacon, who when asked what he does when he's not designing trusses answered, "I pray." and on his right a liberal Canadian fed up with United States politcs.

I watched my faher squirm and deftly avoid being sucked in to the conversation. I sat across the table and often had trouble suppressing laughter. There were several attempts made to end the conversation by outsiders, putting forth off topic questions like, "So, what's the weather like in Canada? I hear it gets pretty cold up there. " None were successful. With each passing minute the meal became more uncomfotable. The ultimate moment of uncomfortability came when the church deacon, while talking against euthanasia, began talking about his brother who he watched suffer and die from a brain tumor.

How do people not know to avoid certain topics when in the company of strangers. I am young and stupid, but even I know to keep my mouth shut.

The magic of the Nacirema

Today is Columbus Day and in honor of his discovery, I have posted a link below to an ethnography written by Horace Miner about one of the New World's strangest cultures:

The Nacierma

Read carefully and you will find that the Nacierma are closely related to the Touron.

The article is kind of lengthy. If you are going to skim it, make sure you read the first and last couple of paragraphs.

Ahh...France

(Malaria Boy livin' large in France)

My brother Kyle recently tried to attend a conference in Monaco. Unfortunately he came down with malaria. Yep...MALARIA in FRANCE!!!????

It turns out that Kyle brought back more from our summer trip to Honduras than some local crafts. How about a liver full of parasites?

He had been back in the US for two months before he started to come down with any signs of the disease : low grade fevers and overall exhaustion. At the time he was studying for his preliminary exams for his doctorate and attributed his waning phyical condition to mental stress. He was wrong.

In France, instead of attending the conference in Exercise Immunology, he spent 1 day in the emergency room, and 2 in the center for tropical diseases. Kyle has yet to admit it, but I think he learned more and had a better time at the hospital than he would of at the conference.

I recently caught up with Kyle at his 5-room rental chateau in Lafayette, Indiana:

Touron Talk(TT): How was the fine, French cuisine?
Malaria Boy(MB): Uhh, not very good.

(TT NOTE: I think I speak for all of us when I say I am glad that infirmed Frenchmen suffer like the rest of us.)

TT: I hear that French women don't get fat...how about the nurses (wink...wink)?
MB: I guess they weren't.
TT: Were they good looking?
MB: Not really.
TT: Did they have moustaches.
MB: ???

(TT NOTE: From this point on the interviewee largely ignored my progressively low browish questions. The interview concluded with a ground breaking discovery.)

TT: How was the Jello?
MB: There was none?
TT: ????

The life expectancy in France is 1.6 years longer than ours in the United States. Obviously, the consumption of Jello in our hospitals is leading to our shorter lives.

Kyle is doing fine, but is still a little tired. Dr's expect him to make a full recovery, although the rare type of malaria that he contracted may flare up occasionally for the next few years. What better excuse is there to miss work? Sorry, boss. Malaria flaring up again.

Both of us took the anti-malarial medication Chloroquine before, during, and after our adventures in Honduras. This was the recommended medication for the region we visited, but apparenlty not 100% foolproof. Visit www.cdc.gov to learn what anti-malaria medication to take on your next trip.

Jesus was a Dromomaniac!

Dromomania, the obsessive urge to travel, is a recognized psychological affliction listed in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. Sufferers of what's also called "the vagabond neurosis" will "spend beyond their means, sacrifice jobs, lovers and security in their lust for new experiences."
- John Flinn SF Chronicle


Some might say I suffer from dromomania. If I do, I am in good company. A group of French psychologists diagnosed Jesus, yes that Jesus, with the disorder.

I like to travel, for sure, but I am not a dromomaniac. I'm not sure how many countries I have visited. I guess around 25 or 30. Do I count Germany where I spent one night in a train station? What about India where I stared out the plane at the terminal for a few minutes thinking, "India, huh? I thought there would be more people."?

I don't count countries, but Charles Veley does. He's been to 518. There are only about 193 recognized nations, but Charles along with his brethern country counters count provinces.

Charles like Jesus is a Dromomaniac. Read the San Francisco Chronicle's article about him:

I've been everywhere, Man

Words to live by...

"We are here on earth to fart around. Don't let anybody tell you any different."

-Kurt Vonnegut

F--ing Hilarious

(My brother, Kyle, turned 30 on Sunday. In honor of the milestone, I have pasted the flattering picture of him above.)

Kyle sent me one of the funniest news reports I may have ever read the other day. Click the link below to read it:

F--ING Town

Modesty

Found a nice travel quote the other day:

"Travel makes one modest, you see what a tiny place you occupy in the world."
-Gustave Flaubert

All I have to say is, How awesome am I for finding this quote! I'm the MAN!

Guilt in developing nations

(Wycliffe and family)

Sometimes a fella just can't help but feel guilty when traveling in a developing nation. This happened to me in Puerto Cabezas, Nicaragua, walking back from the beach past the local university with my friend Wycliffe.

KT: Is university expensive?

Wyciffe: Yes, $15 a month.

I said no more. I was paying $9 a night at my hotel. Hell, most CD's cost more than $15.

Smiley

I think half of my photos from my recent trip are of little kids. They loved getting their picture taken and then seeing themselves on my camera. It was funny watching them pose with random objects: a frisbee, "Here I am playing frisbee," a water bottle, "Look how cool I am drinking this water."

This photo is my favorite kid photo. Smiley here lives in Mocoron, Honduras, he put on my glasses and flashed one of the best smiles I have ever seen.

Back to reality

(Sunrise. Leaving Key West, bound for Dayton)

The decision to go to Key West was a quick one, but one I am glad I made. 24 hrs after I made it, I was somewhere between Miami and Key West in a shiny red rental car, the shiniest thing I had seen in months.

For some reason I hate the word surreal, but there is no better word to describe my 3 hr drive to Key West for a funeral. It was a sort of reverse culture shock. At the dock in Puerto Cabezas the previous day, amid the sailors and hookers, I was concerned with nothing more than getting on a boat. On US 1 in the Keys I joined the pilgrammage of speeding tourists, zipping along through waves of sunshine and showers. Where, trying to locate and regulate the wipers on my rental car, deciding to stop at Arby's or McDonald's, recalling the words to "Old Black Water," and trying to come to terms with the "real" world, were my concerns.

I decided on McDonald's. I nearly thanked the smiling face behind the counter with a "gracias." In the restroom I hovered nervously before throwing toilet paper in the toilet (In Central America the plumbling can't handle paper and must be discarded in the trash).

In Key West the surreality (I hope that is not actually a word because I really hate it) continued. KW is a place where I am used to riding my bike around looking for hidden restaurants and giving dive briefings. On this trip I searched for funeral homes and gave a eulogy.

Despite the strangeness and the shock of it all, I had a pleasant time in Key West. I spent the week sharing stories about Ralph, whose ashes we scattered at sea as the sun set, catching up with old friends, spearfishing, and eating loads of food that were not beans and rice.

I flew into Dayton, Ohio on Wednesday and am currently visiting my brother in Lafayette, Indiana. I still have a flight going from Panama City to Dayton Ohio. I checked into getting a one way ticket back down to Central America to finish out my trip, but the prices are a bit outrageous so it looks like the return ticket will go unused. I plan on spending the next few months contacting syndicates with proposals for my column, working on a book proposal, writing, and throwing whatever other hooks I can think of into the publishing waters. I fear a part time job looms in my near future.

I will continue to update Touron Talk with my writing progress, hopefully there is progess, and I also plan on posting photos from my recent trip every few days.

Keep visiting. Don't be shy, posts some messages.