Be Here Now

It is amazing how art can lift the spirit. I watched Fierce Grace, the documentary about Baba Ram Dass after his stroke. It reminded me that I am human and this is my life that I am living. It is not a melodrama that is directed through a vague blog. It is a living breathing thing. It reminded me that my journey is my own and that if I need to know if I should turn left or right I need only ask myself. There is no answer to what I seek that lies outside of me. I know what is in my heart and I shouldn’t be afraid of it. I know what is in my soul. It isn’t just light and pretty images, there is darkness there too.

I will stumble and fall, but there is beauty in suffering, truth in loneliness. It seems the best artwork, and deepest human discovery come out of periods of difficulty in human life. This has been the hardest period of my life, the last year, and it has birthed an entirely new person. I am shedding my old self like a snake skin. In fact, what is old, or previous inherently cannot be here… it is gone. What I run from, it isn’t always so bad. It is ok to actually live my life instead of trying to distract myself from the reality of it because I am too scared of what the future might hold. It is ok to be here now.

I am going to get that book and read it. In spite of my sometimeish scepticism, there is something about this man, as many have felt that draws me. I don’t like some of the things he says, but I will still quiet and listen to them. I think it must be his conviction. It’s hypnotic. I am suddenly very curious to read a book that so many seem to have gotten so much out of. I would like to start it and take my time reading it.

Another thing I would like to do is stop expecting things and just try something. Instead of trying to map out the best path toward becoming a journalist, I think I will just write, edit, send out, explore and continue. I will blog, try new sources, tire temporarily, and then write more. I will simply keep on engaging in the art. That is the path. I have asked others and myself and I think the answer is to just do it. I will face rejection and dryspells, triumph and recognition. This is the course of life.

I may seem happy talking about suffering, but I just remembered that life isn’t about avoiding everything that frightens you. The things you are most scared of, or hesitant about can sometimes be the most important experiences.

I love the human psyche. I just wrote a blog about loneliness. This blog is also about loneliness but in an entirely different way. It is amazing how a small shift in perception can put a new spin on gray.

Message: I am here

Entitle ment

We have our entitlements. Things we think we deserve. Certain kinds of behaviour, or rules the rest of the world needs to follow because we believe that we fit somewhere into a hierarchy.

The white Americans that are here at the guest house understand the world racial hierarchy in their favour. I haven’t noticed this in reference to me, but have observed it while watching them interact with Thai people and culture.

One said, “I should buy a cheap hair straightener, the Thai girls look much better than I expected. I feel gross”

The other said “Me too, but that’s a waste of money. We’ll just wear hats and be cool because we are Americans.”

The guy chimed in “It doesn’t matter, the Thai guys will think your hot, because you are white.”

Then he looked at me and said, “well you too. Americans I mean.”

I am Canadian.

What they said may be true, thought there is much more to it than that. The fact that they know it though, makes it seem somewhat insidious. Though there is no heinous hierarchy they are imposing. We are all participating in it.

They walk in the idle of the road, like the sidewalks aren’t there for them. As though they can do whatever they please.

Many have come here unwilling to mesh. Unwilling to take Thai understanding and make it their own, though they intend to, and are, working here. They will not take a situation and adapt to it, but expect the situation to adapt to them. In their minds they have put themselves in a place of importance.

This just doesn’t happen only with Americans, or white people, or travellers. Most of the people I come into contact with assume that the standard they measure themselves against in their mind has something to do with how other view them as well.

A girl here, one that I like, has travelled to Thailand from America to teach monks. It shocks her that there are not more games or accessories for her to use in class. She is shocked that the lesson plans are boring. When I tell her that the roommate I had before taught monks and simply went to the market and bought supplies, she scoffs. “Why should I have to pay my own money to do that? It should be there!” She takes little or no notice of the fact that she is not a teacher, instead a child herself, and they are employing her volunteer desires. In a monastery that blindly accepts free help from wherever it comes, it doesn’t seem that surprising that they lack supplies. Perhaps she could trade in her Ed Hardy binder, to buy a game for the kids. Or even make a divergent lesson plan that isn’t boring. She feels that because she is new, and because she wants to enjoy herself, the school should have what she wants made available to her. She thinks she is entitled to things that don’t apply to her situation, only to the standard in her mind.

Part 2

There is a part of entitlement that assumes lack of consideration for others. It is a selfish action that can be fully understood only in the brain of the enactor. Sometimes, when waiting in line for things, you’ll notice that person who just walks up and plunks there business down on the counter before you. They may or may not be aware of you, but they never see you as being as much of a person as them. They view themselves as being entitled to your spot in line. As though whatever came ahead of you were there designation. True, the person could simply be busy, or just plain rude. But in either case, they are ignoring the fact that lines have designations of first, second and so on. Instead they are looking at the inner hierarchy that puts them in a standard ahead.

When this happens, I often end up thinking that it is a race, or age thing. But that is because I live in a country primarily inhabited by aging white baby boomers. I think this actually happens everywhere, and it isn’t a matter or race per say. There are many ways to choose to classify yourself amongst other humans in other setups of rank.

Perhaps the butter, thinks they are more important because they are rich. Or because they are beautiful. Or because they are pitiful. Whatever the case may be, it has everything to do with their perceptions of themselves much more than it has to do with you at all.

The reason that some of these entitlements endure, is because they are then enforced with other peoples behaviour. Not just the actions of the person at the top of the hierarchy, but also by the actions of the person at the bottom.

Part 3

I think that I am entitled to happiness because I have begun to turn my life into something more presentable. I have done away with the bad, so the bad stuff should do away with it’s connection to me right? Not quite. I notice that I become incensed easily when best laid plans fall to dust. It’s like I think the universe know owes me a smooth ride because I have cleaned up my act. Expectation and entitlement go hand in hand. Both are jokes in the face of life. (Though jokes can sometimes seem cruel when they are played on you)

Out with The Group

It’s amazing how incredibly alone on the journey I feel sometimes. Sitting in a room full of people that I don’t know and do care to know but I am ‘out’ with. I’m not sure why I gave into the fear of loneliness tonight. I know that I don’t like going out with the group from the guest house, but I did it anyway. I didn’t want to eat alone. But why… I invariably have a better time in this circumstance than I would have otherwise.

I was bored and I felt out of place. No peers in this group, just young kids searching for things I no longer seek. Discussing topics I no longer entertain. I was bored and somewhat displeased with myself for being so obvious about it. I think that because I felt like an outsider, I decided to try and make them feel insignificant. Like, the older wiser one is bored with you. And I was, but simply because I don’t identify, not something personal.

I saw a shaman today. I’m not really even sure why. I guess because I’ve been looking at spirituality recently, I thought it might be up my alley way. It wasn’t quite. I was just left gripping to information that I’m not quite sure how to use. Left wondering if she was real or if I just want it to be. She told me stuff that I already knew about myself, but hearing it from another person somehow made it real. I just need people to promise me that I will be a successful journalist, then I guess I’ll do it. All kind of silly really. All things I could do for myself. But, like James said ‘maybe it’s worth the 3000 baht if you start to look at yourself in a different way.’

They all went out for Thai massages. I know half of them don’t even want to go but feel the need to do what the group does. I am happy to get away from that, but loneliness is far more startling when in happens in a crowd. When you are not alone but mentally vacant from your company.

I sent a text out to a girl who doesn’t really know me and cares little about what I am feeling tonight. We spent some time together on the weekend so I decided to go out on a limb and text her that I was bored. Text her that I was laughing at my insistence on trying something I was almost 100% likely to not like. I sort of knew she wasn’t going to reply. Still, I decided to go out on a limb. As much I feels the pangs or rejection, of being ignored, because she did not reply, I like the part of me that will keep trying to build bridges and reach out to the people that I like. Amazingly, though diminished, this part of me isn’t all together gone.

It is at times like this I don’t wonder why that one questionable relationship that is there still exists. It is a soft and familiar cushion to fall on when the chair gets pulled out out. What does that mean?

Loneliness is a profound emotion. I run from and hide from it so often that it is a wonder I have any energy left at all. I try to distract myself from it and cover it with all that I do. But it is always there. Sometimes I call it independence. Sometimes I call it depression. I think I may even be confused enough, to sometimes call it happiness. I don’t think I am that different from anyone else in this sense, but I am acutely attuned to it. So aware of it.

Too much loneliness is a condition that creeps into your blood stream and spreads out into the energy that leaves your body. It becomes all you take in and all you exert. Like all emotions, it can be dangerous if you let it.

Music Soothes. So good for this mood. Once soundtrack

Elephant Masturbater

Collecting elephant semen is a very sticky business.

Manual Collection, as the questionably disturbing procedure is known, involves forceful stimulation of the elephant’s rectum and a small team of scientists. These guys deserve medal for species preservation.

The team from the Thai Elephant Conservation Centre, (TECC), collects the semen for genetic and reproductive research. It’s not just a simple matter of employing a female elephant for eye candy and waiting on the result. To be used scientifically, the semen has to be collected and preserved in a controlled environment. It’s also a matter of ensuring elephant conservation through planned pregnancy. Elephants are not Casanovas, nor do they have a wild libido, so scientists have to intervene in the natural process.

Dr. Sittidet Maha from the TECC describes manual collection as “a hand massage in the anus of the elephant”. It’s more like a vigorous penetration of the elephant’s rectum, as a gloved human arm reaches in to stimulate the prostate – the whole arm. Dr. Maha thinks that the elephants don’t mind the intrusion because “it feels good for them when they ejaculate, so they like it”. It helps that the elephants are previously introduced to the process through regular examination and manual fecal removal when constipated. They may not get candy and roses before the deed is done, but at least they are trained to tolerate it.

The mission of the TECC collection team is to help fortify dwindling elephant numbers by giving them a hand, quite literally. The method currently in use was discovered quite by accident, when scientists were trying to help the elephants with constipation. While it may seem more logical – and less gross – to simply perform phallic masturbation on the elephant, this process has its issues. Elephant penis’ are very sensitive and can flail around uncontrollably if not handled correctly. At more than one metre long, this can actually be dangerous. Scientists have been known to end up knocked out or with black eyes for even trying to stimulate an elephant phallus.

Manual collection begins with soft and slow movements which increase in intensity during the procedure. The elephants aren’t drugged and they don’t get soft music, scientists in lingerie or a post-coital cigarette. Just cold – and likely odd-feeling – latex covered arms. In Dr. Maha’s experience “the process can take 10-15 mins or sometimes longer depending on the elephant”. The semen is then taken back to the lab for cryopreservation in liquid nitrogen at -196˚C.

The team at TECC collect the semen once per month and use it to research elephant genetics. When they are ready to inseminate a female elephant, they pick the male and female pair with the best physical characteristics to produce healthy babies, which helps ensure the population. Sperm is collected from bull elephants “18-30 years of age and not more”. Dr. Maha explains that “elephants are like humans this way. If we collect from old elephants, we don’t get good quality samples” so he seeks out the young pickings.

It’s a messy undertaking, but somebody has to do it. Dr. Maha picks trained veterinary scientists for his team because “some people think it is not clean to do this, that it is a very dirty job. Only a veterinarian can do this and not get upset.” Anyone but a dedicated veterinarian would surely experience some kind of traumatic flashback after regularly masturbating an elephant rectum with their arm. The people on his team care about elephants and the conservation of the species enough to simply look the other way and put science before human perception.

Other forms of elephant masturbation for semen collection are also used. Some scientists have had success with rectal electrostimulation which involves a rectal probe that is inserted into the elephant’s anus and a light shock treatment. A team in Washington has developed an artificial vagina and has trained elephants to use it as a means of collection. Surprisingly, the semen collected in this way shows lower motility, or performance output, than the method of collection used by Dr. Maha and his team. Manual rectal probing seems to be an elephant fetish.

The TECC impregnates only 3-4 female elephants per year due to the incredible length of their menstrual cycles, which can last up to 4 months. The gestation period is 22 months, which has to be annoyingly long for the females, but accounts for the few pregnancies per year that the TECC oversees. While it may seem distasteful to some, the work of Dr. Maha and his team is a valuable contribution to the elephant population and to Thailand itself.