{"id":16160,"date":"2021-07-11T01:38:12","date_gmt":"2021-07-11T05:38:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.justcharlie.com\/?page_id=16160"},"modified":"2021-07-11T01:38:14","modified_gmt":"2021-07-11T05:38:14","slug":"naughty-nomad","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.justcharlie.com\/highlights\/naughty-nomad\/","title":{"rendered":"“Naughty Nomad” Highlights"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

These highlights are from the Kindle version of Naughty Nomad: Not Your Typical Backpacker Story<\/strong><\/a> by Mark Zolo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You\u2019re floating in a bay near a gorgeous island in the South China Sea, and just when you think you\u2019ve left the world behind, some old woman rows up to your boat and tries to sell you a pack of Oreos. That\u2019s Vietnam in a nutshell.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

If there\u2019s one thing I\u2019ve learned from travelling, it\u2019s that the greatest peace is often found at mankind\u2019s furthest outposts.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Formerly the Kingdom of Abyssinia, Ethiopia was the only country not colonised in the scramble for Africa, leaving much of the rich cultural tapestry of the country intact. It remains the only African country to still use its indigenous alphabet. Coffee was first cultivated there. The Rift Valley in Ethiopia was the supposed origin of mankind itself, and the country was the home of Queen Sheba and Rastafari.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Old beliefs still permeated Ethiopian society. Just before embarking on a two-day bus journey to the capital Addis Ababa, I performed a magic trick for a small crowd, accomplishing \u201ctelepathy\u201d by reading the minds of three volunteers. They each had to think of a different card and tell the others what it was. When I predicted them all, the crowd erupted, shouting \u201cDevil!\u201d Some spectators even fell to their knees to pray.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

With Danny\u2019s passport retrieved, we started to head towards Kenya, stopping off in Shashamene: Mecca for Rastafari. The word Ras comes from the Amharic word head or duke. The word Tarfari was the pre-regal name of Haile Selassie, the first emperor of Ethiopia, who was said to be the incarnation of Jesus Christ. The story goes that he was a direct descendant of a lost tribe of Israel, spawned from a love affair between Queen Sheba and King Solomon. (The lion of Judah was once used in the Ethiopian flag). The movement may have started in Jamaica in the 30s, but its spiritual heartland was in Ethiopia.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

In that part of the world, the road was the least of our worries. Northern Kenya was lawless and armed bandits and raiders targeted the route. The only way to travel was by armed convoy, so we had an escort, gun in hand, keeping a wary eye on the road ahead.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

No place in the world has quite the aura of the Congo jungle. It was so alluring to me. Mystery still surrounds the interior of the impenetrable forest, the second largest in the world. Water transport remains the dominant means of getting around, with thousands of kilometres of navigable waterways on the Congo River.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

I never realized I had a thing for danger. Some guys get their kicks from gambling or extreme sports, but I discovered that I kind of like the idea of being shot at. Flirting with death gave me a hard-on. I\u2019d rather be fast food for worms than play it safe and grow old thinking, \u201cWhat if?\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

The valley rumbles with the sound of the mighty Victoria Falls behind me: one of the seven wonders of the natural world.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019re fucking lucky, man,\u201d I said, turning to Danny. \u201cWe\u2019re lucky to be born in a country where we can afford to travel the world. We should do this until the day we die. On this trip we\u2019ve seen the wonders of the world and experienced some of the most incredible places on Earth: deserts, jungles, and tropical islands. We\u2019ve dived, rafted, bungeed, banged, bribed, swam with sharks, jumped out of a plane, snuck across deadly borders, entered warzones, been arrested, faced death, and constantly evaded imprisonment for trafficking a kilo of marijuana across half a continent. But somehow, nearly a dozen countries later, we made it\u2014Cairo to Cape Town. It\u2019s good to be alive.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Moscow fit all the stereotypes. Its streets were overrun with beautiful women in high heels and thick-jawed men strutting around in crew cuts. However, everyone we met looked like they\u2019d been just kicked in the shins and almost every face was dour and serious. \u201cOnly fools smile,\u201d I was told by one local.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

For more than a century, the Tran-Siberian Railway has provided the world\u2019s most superlative train journey, making it a mandatory pilgrimage for any would-be globetrotter. With over 9,000 km of track, the longest railway in the world spans from.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

In the middle of Lake Baikal sits Olkhon Island, and on the island is a small backpacking commune known as Nikita\u2019s: a homely refuge set up by a former Russian ping-pong champion. That\u2019s where we stayed, and to this day it remains the most unique getaway I\u2019ve ever experienced.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Mongolia surprised all of us. Keen for the real Mongolian experience, we camped in some traditional yurts (Google it) in the quiet confines of Terej National Park. Our settlement was located on a grassy steppe, overlooking a vast mountainous valley far away from civilisation.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

As an avid scholar of Chinese history and culture, I was saddened as my palms were soiled by the yuan, the Chinese currency adorned with a porky portrait of Chairman Mao. It was the equivalent of Germany putting Hitler on their euros.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

\u2018The Great Hero\u2019 of the Chinese Communist state was, apparently, responsible for the death of some 80 million of his own people. In one two-year period of his rule (a period known as \u2018the great leap forward\u2019), so much food was forcefully exported to Russia that 36 million Chinese perished from famine\u2014for the honour of acquiring Soviet nuclear technology.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

There were other things that also bugged me about China. As one expat explained, \u201cPeople here don\u2019t think for themselves. Independent thinking is actively discouraged.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

In the West, we\u2019re the farthest removed from our basic nature. Many of us get our food from the frozen section of some multinational supermarket, prepared for us in plastic packages ready to be shoved in the microwave. It\u2019s normal\u2014like marriage, office jobs, the law, and all the constructs we deem to be the fruits of divine civilisation. But normal wasn\u2019t natural. After that incident, I thought a lot about my biases, my conditioning, and my cultural indoctrination. I needed to burst my bubble, take the red pill, and follow the white rabbit, so to speak. I made a conscious choice to reconnect with my primal masculine nature.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019m seeing a few girls from Luzon and two of them tell me they\u2019re pregnant!\u00a0 I think it\u2019s bull, but we\u2019ll see. I\u2019m just going with the flow.\u201d His relaxed approach to life at the age of thirty-seven was refreshing.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

The country had changed our reality. We had become so used to female attention that it had turned us into sex fiends. We took to the streets like a pack of wild dogs, ready to tear the place apart.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Although small, Kuching was quite cosmopolitan\u2014and vastly more absorbing than the capital, KL. The drink was cheaper, the girls looser, and the nights wilder.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDrug trafficking carries a mandatory death sentence\u201d read the sign over Indonesian immigration. Danny had weed in his pocket, so I decided it was best not to inform him. Two hours later we were smoking in our hotel room on Jalan Jaksa, the main backpacker street in sprawling Jakarta.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Determined to find the real heart of Bali, the first thing we did was rent bikes to tour the island. As a result, the Bali we experienced was very different from the average tourist. The quiet paddy fields in the interior were worlds away from the beach resorts of Kuta, the main tourist town. I quickly fell in love with the island. In some parts, the landscape reminded me of Palawan in the Philippines.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy are you crying?\u201d I asked. \u201cIt\u2019s just\u2026I\u2019m going to miss you,\u201d she wept. Then\u2014just like that\u2014the mushrooms turned on me and my first bad trip began. Her words were like daggers ripping through my chest and her pain-filled tears were like poison entering my bloodstream. I hallucinated that my dick was an evil serpent that had used his cunning to worm his way up her sacred orifice\u2014only to vomit inside her and then leave. I was disgusted with myself. There was a beautiful girl who had completely opened herself up to me, only to be used and abandoned. I experienced heart-wrenching guilt on a primal level and my emotions were so intense that I had to escape to the bathroom to compose myself. Looking into the mirror, I saw a monster (literally, an actual monster). His ugly demonic face peered back at me with eyes that filled me with debilitating remorse for all the broken hearts he had left in his wake. \u201cI\u2019m such an asshole,\u201d I thought, and I wept for my sins, crying like a little bitch.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Then her husband appeared and approached our tuk-tuk. He was small in stature, almost boyish. It was hard to picture him as being domineering and violent\u2014except that Lia was so petite. With tears in his eyes, he looked at me and said, \u201cTake care of them.\u201d And with that, he left. As he trudged down the lane, I couldn\u2019t help feeling sorry for the guy. His world had just fallen apart\u2014and it was my fault. Lia silently put her hand in mine and gazed at me with hopeful eyes. I looked back at her, then down at her son, whose family I\u2019d just torn apart, and thought, what have I done?<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

My return to Cambodia had been marked by the destruction of a family and a lifelong friendship. Bridges had been burned and people had gotten hurt. It was a sad, sad time.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Burmese tourism was a well-oiled machine and with strict travel restrictions enforced, every tourist\u2019s visit was pretty much pre-defined by the military government. Visiting traditional floating villages on a lake may sound enticing for your average cultural vulture\u2014but not when you\u2019re forced to spend the whole day being ferried around from tourist shop to tourist shop.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

The truth is I didn\u2019t learn much of anything from my first years of travel. Instead, I\u2019ve only unlearned what I\u2019ve been taught. My views of right and wrong, purpose, morality, and values have all been left open to question.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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