Tuesday, November 30


Australian beach life is like no other... like no other...
it's ahop, skip and a jump...a very relaxed jump from Asia.


Damn, after time communing with mother ocean, getting my feet wet in the tea coloured streams, drying in the warm sun... I've decided, I'm moving to Byron and buying a small tea shop and forever supping tea with the wide view of the world at my feet ..

unique, I know

...

Peace

and

love

Friday, November 26


Hi, if you've read the recent Teach International article and are interested in my experience living in Vietnam, you can pop into my archives beginning early 2008

Tab

Wednesday, November 17

Birds and blue skies of Home

Yesterday, I almost tripped over a duck. Walking along a dark pathway I didn't see the small brood on the side of the road until it was almost too late. Imagine, I walk, and there is a duck.

They aren't the only animals in this amazing place, everywhere birds of all colors call and whirl in the air. Brilliant rainbows, shining whites, crested, yellow, white, black and proud. On my back porch one evening an owl landed gracefully on the awning, staring at me with eyes of wisdom and truth and after sharing time and space flew off again as I rose to leave. What a wonderland of creatures.

The truth is, I'm happy to be home. The secret is out. I've landed on Australian soil breathing the fertile green land, the bird-filled blue skies as wide and generous as I remembered.


Welcome to Australia..

A land of thick accents, terrible television advertising and regulated, regimented rules. A place of long history, and ancient traditions, overlayed with desperate commercialism, addictive purchasing and little political truth..

... but home at the very least!


Friday, November 5

Ghost Realities

'Almost every reality you 'know' at any given second is a mere ghost held in reality'....

Vision, self doubt, "see" and "hear"...what makes you so sure they exist? Given the power and subtleties of our culture, our system, our mental mind makers..the learning devices our societies create..what makes you more than an effective learning machine?

The peer pressure, phony proponents, unrealistic stings of unreality, social cues and the compulsion to go along with the herd are far more valuable pressures than we think they are...so how are we natural? how are we free?

It's been said we are a beach complete with shifting sands and dunes...'After all what is our reality anyway? Nothin' but a collective hunch'..as Lily says.

I'm a beach.

i'm the metaphor at hand, a mismatched time honoured clock of misperception. I'm hypersensitive, bound by the norms with crowds of silent voices whispering in my ears full of indescision and misunderstanding...

the influence of the mob gone before..

I'm the fall guy of generations of mistakes
the crowing of a crowd
long bent and wasted, crowding in the collective mind

trick me and tell me it was a white car speeding by a blue house and maybe i'll say...um, yeah, it was going pretty fast..

and yet, I'm touching the void here
balancing out, aiming to avoid pleasing

almost...maybe not this generation..but maybe the next
maybe

Tuesday, November 2

Cook for Peace

Ooh, how wonderful is sharing food - a most precious ritual, culture to culture, home to home. Families celebrate over roasts, reward with sweet meats and show appreciation with treats. But these days sharing food is a revolutionary movement!
My lovely Catalan friend Estella, who is part of the love love love of the Love Bis - Malaysia Chapter - a seeker of good people, truth and (cheap sustainable) travel, joined the ragtag group collaborating Food Not Bombs here. They cook and share food regular Friday nights..for free! Yes, yes, free food!

Food Not Bombs is a peace movement sharing vegan and vegetarian food in over 1,000 cities around the world!

Holding the belief that while people are starving not a single dollar more should be spent on WAR. Food from bakeries, packaged food from dumpsters, surplus stock are collected, cooked and shared with the community...those people...'out there'.

The immense wastage of our Western societies is ignored, government and corporate priorities are SKEWED and as a result, billions of people starve. Thusly, a loose-knitted group of activists collect free, surplus and thrown away food and cook it up to distribute to the homeless and poor, FREE.

...and it's yuuuuummy!


It reminds me of my first Nimbin trip. Haha.

Starving and exhausted we pulled into town as the sun disapeared over the hills. The town was desolate (hippies retreat to the hills to pump water and fix solar panelling in their yurts). Our hungry bellies rumbling and not expecting to eat...

But then, a white van stopped on the main street in
dim circle of street light adn two people began unpacking... a line of fold-up tables a huge feast began to materialise.

Huge pots bubbling with pea and lentil soups, fresh brown seeded loaves, steaming cauliflower and vegetable casseroles, cream cakes, chips and biscuits and plastic cups full of raspberry cordial and juice. Our eyes bulged at the miracle assembling itself on the desolate street.
From the dark shadows hairy, dreadlocked hippies emerged, torn tie-dye shirts, clinking talismans and dirt stained feet. Over soup, I chatted with a boy, Josh's age, covered in cake from stuffing his face, he had wild eyes and was living in a house in the hills making jewellery, this was his first proper meal in a while.

I was told that the man who created the feast was called Les. From his own pocket, he had been feeding people in the Lismore region every Saturday for 20 years!

There are angels among us..feeding us..and cooking up a little peace*

Saturday, October 2

gypsy cats
miaow..

What do you do when the world around you commands obedience.. in dress, in manner and in life choices? What if you don't agree with the choices? What if you don't get into the hype, don't want to contribute to the fear?

What do you do if you wanted every single day of your life to be full of love..music..smiles..colour???

Would you give it up because someone says you must be more like them? Or would you put on your most colourful vest, arrange your pants, and walk whistling out the door...to meet and make your own sense, your own story...

The Love Bus are a colorful bunch of gypsy cats travelling the world creating spontaneous musical combustion.
Starting their travels in the greenscapes of Kuranda, I met up with the kids in Malaysia where we were all lucky to meet Antares and from there the love has spread...worldwide...



They play music music music...

with soul
love

harmony

So let's get together

and feel alright...





sweetsouls

...
wandering

loving
singing
smiling
all the world
through..


...

always
with a beat
always with a song

no matter what
public
transport

they
are on...
..

And more more beautiful music to be heard ----


Sounds of Sun
www.myspace.com/soundsofsun






Sunny Lee Snook
www.myspace.com/sunnyleesnook




Music4Humanity










Music4Humanity is a global music project aimed at inspiring humanity, focusing on enriching the lives of others through music and compassion. The kids involved in this hold fund raising events, music workshops, concerts, music therapy, docos and films, and create volunteer music programs all around the world!Josh explodes on stage wth smooth jazzy vocals and dreamy guitar fingers, cheeky or contemplative, flamboyant or melancholic; Josh Lee's music is littered with personality. Folky with space for funk, gypsy, roots, jazz and rock. Amorphous and changeable, but clear and elegant..
 Josh is currently living and gigging in Bristol, UK...

Help keep the love going...visit www.music4humanity.info







now...

Friday, October 1

i say...


I was recently approached to write an article for the Jakarta Post on hichhiking...whether they print it or not is another story...but here is what I said....


1) How does hitchhiking in Indonesia compare to other countries/places?

Well, honestly, long highways seem the same no matter what country you travel in. To me a journey seems subject to the state of mind of the traveller than anything else. In Indonesia, I noticed friendliness and more rural territory, maybe because of this people are more open to accepting a roadside travel companion. Everywhere people were generous and enthusiastic about teaching language and sharing songs and knowledge. Unfortunately, the roads highlighted our trip in Sumatra! On much of the coastal highways, bone jarring potholes appeared around every corner. Trucks and cars progress through the countryside much slower and I spent many sleepless nights in the cab of a truck bounced around like a pinball.


2) Why do you choose to hitchhike over taking other transport?

After travelling for a long time, I became frustrated with the callous way travel is generally approached. I got off the bus. Literally. I started walking. I walked almost 300 kilometres and along the way people offered me lifts, rides or even doubles on their bicycle. Now I’ve hitchhiked in 8 different countries, exchanged conversations with hundreds of people and learned pieces of 6 languages. I’ve become hooked on this idea of ‘humane’ transport because hitchhiking offers real human contact. It’s an exercise in real life experience. Real people. Real travel. When I hitchhike I open myself up to possibilities, genuine interactions and generosity, and usually remove money from the equation. I hitchhike both because it’s free and because it’s freedom.


3) What kind of people do you usually get rides from?

Absolutely everyone! Old and young, from different countries and from different backgrounds. I've found it's easier to stop trucks and with private cars it seems men are more likely to stop than women. In countries where it is rare to hitchhike, the question everyone asks is why I choose to travel this way. So my brother and I adapted the way we explained our presence on the highway and tell people we are participating in a social experiment… in human kindness. And it’s really like that. The more people you meet, the more you see how diverse but similar we are and how absolutely anyone can stop to help a stranger. And even if you can’t stop, an apologetic wave goes a long way to making a girl feel better!

4) Tell me about the best ride you've ever gotten?

I’ve ended up in many wonderful places with interesting characters. A recording studio in Bengkulu, a shishkebab BBQ on a beach with Iranian students, a wedding party in the mountains, and all along the way people went out of their way to share their culture and experiences. But one time I hitched from Sumatra to Java, on a ferry! My friend Charlie and I spent hours speaking broken bahasa and sharing Ayam Goreng with the drivers. Aboard, we whizzed into the executive lounge complete with live band and spent the night playing guitar and relaxing on comfortable lounges. We got a ride with the band and a place to sleep till the next day. Patiently teaching traditional songs like Kopi Dandut and helped us to find the highway. The people were generous and genuine and it was the very best part about arriving in Java.

5) What are your favourite things about hitchhiking? Least favourite?

Hitchhiking is exhilarating. I am constantly surprised, amazed and humbled by the open-hearted kindness of strangers. Moving through the world this way has changed the way I view the world. I can never be convinced by the media into believing we should be afraid of other people, this first hand experience has led me to believe we should open our selves and our hearts even more to people and we'll find we reap the trust that we sow. The least favorite aspect of this form of travel is long, hot highways and my own terrible sense of direction! I once hitchhiked for three hours from Penang, Malaysia unknowingly in a very, very big circle, only to end up at a very familiar road, with a very, very familiar bridge!

6) Tell me about hitchhiking as a woman!

Trust and confidence is key and your intuition is worth more than you can imagine. I've never understood how good I was at assessing people until I began hitchhiking. As far as being a female hitchhiker, I haven’t found my experience differs much to my brother’s or other male friends. Needless to say, it’s easier hitchhiking in pairs, as a single female there have been times the conversation veered uncomfortably towards my marital status. It’s important to be confident and maintain friendly conversation but be ready to divert it if it becomes too personal. I assess drivers carefully and find getting rides at gas stations allow me more time to speak to drivers before accepting a lift. So far, all my experiences have been very positive.

7) What have you learned from hitchhiking?

Hitchhiking is an exercise in personality development. Moving through the world this way has made me more aware of people, to trust myself implicitly, manage my relationships, divert/change/adapt my conversation skills and to be more humble (when faced with great generosity or when being turned down ride after ride). I’ve learned it’s not money or possessions which provide lasting satisfaction, its human experience and sharing our collective stories. We can communicate no matter what our backgrounds, races or culture, we just have to slow our engine, open our doors and give it a try!

Monday, August 2

Two Tribes meet


I told them I would be back with bamboo in a sec and wandered down the rugged little hill and past the puppy’s grave. (Over the years many animals have found their end at Magick River. Mary once pointed out to us all the sites of the dead pups and cats and kittens and monkeys! She said when the dogs brought him up the road, with not a scratch on him, the baby monkey was so poignantly human he was given a ‘proper’ burial.)
I spotted Anoura cutting betel nut with women and sat with her chewing the nut wrapped in bitter tasting leaves, promptly forgetting about my bamboo mission. Our asli neighbours were having a celebration. I’d watched them cooking since morning and communicated in stilted Bahasa I wanted to taste Orang Asli cooking. With big smiles I was led to their rumah.


Cute kids peeked at me from behind mother’s skirts and the men shot curious glances. But honestly, I was concentrating on the food piled high on my plate. The men asked me to invite my friends and that’s how the tribe at the top of the hill came to meet the tribe at the bottom…finally. We brought guitars, of course.

The women laid out another mouth watering spread of food. Freshly killed wild boar made into three delicious dishes, coconut sauces, fresh bamboo shoots, wild picked jungle vegetables and the traditional crunchy crackers, all topped off with a sweet caramel pudding. Even the vegetarians were happy.

Our French/Spanish friend Micky’s eyes were popping out of his head as he exclaimed between mouthfuls, “it’s so fresh, so clean, so full of taste.” He would close his eyes after every mouthful of boar and mumble something half Spanish, half French. One of the brothers shot a mid-sized male boar in the jungle a day ago and the women told me they never eat meat from the town because of the chemicals. Throughout the meal, I had mental pictures akin to Asterixsk and Obelix cartoons, wild parties in the forest with bountiful food and glistening sides of wild boar…this was what it was like!

After eating came the songs!
Of course, we are always quick to sing (and Happy Birthday featured prominently). But funnily enough, we had a newly arrived New Zealand couple with us, a very proper, tight collared private school teacher and her husband. He surprised us all, first asking if he could sing a song, and then, gently putting aside the guitar offered to him, he promptly took off his shirt…in front of a crowd of open mouthed foreigners and curious asli, he proceeded to do a totally impromptu, very impressive version of the Hakka! In the brief moments of shocked silence that ensued, I quickly translated the song was from the asli of New Zealand and this man (with his white, white skin, short shorts and curly hair) was not asli, but had learned their music. The Temuan grunted with understanding gave him a proper applause.

Micky sang a Spanish song accompanied with some gypsy kind of dance (inspired in part by the local wine) and Stas sang a Russian ballad. With the help of a much better translator, a half Malaysian friend Aslan, they shared old folk stories of the Temuan in the area. Accompanied with a promise that the next day they would drive some miles to visit the local elder for more lore.

The two tribes met and now it feels as though we have more brothers and sisters. Let’s hope we respect our new friendship and know that it will add much more to our lives and experience in this magical place.