My Beard……

I am noted for the length of my beard, which is HUGE! I have never shaved (apart from once, when I shaved my beard off, on that occasion I shaved, and met my younger sister in the kitchen, and she was aghast at my appearance, thinking I was a stranger!).

I have had a beard for all my life, well from about 15 or thereabouts.

In my youth……

As my beard now……It is white now, not red…….

In a pensive mood………

So I have had a beard all my life, well, since puberty, in fact. I have never shaved, so my beard is really looooong. And messy!

I cut it, well, Lotty does that, so it isn’t horribly long, but it is full. So I wear it long, as I see no point in trimming it short. Beards are supposed to be long, not short – see the Viking’s beards – they are really long, as is mine.

A REAL Vikings beard……. HA!

Yet more about my time in Greece.

I was not in Greece for a long time, as the famous “Colonels Coup” had happened, and all of the prisoners in camps all over Greece were exchanged for others as the politics changed. This coup (which was organised by the CIA) caused an exchange of prisoners, the original prisoners were changed for a bunch of people who against the “Colonels”. Which included me.

Greece suddenly became a much more fascist state, reflecting the current state of American politics, and so it was really difficult to express yourself about all manner of issues and avoid being bunged into prison. Ah well, all good things end.

For a while, Greece became impossible to visit. Or at least if you were aware of politics. The “normal” tourists still went to Greece, but politically aware ones avoided it like the plague.

After the coup had softened its grip on power, Greece once again became possible to visit, and the Greek nature showed through once again, and the political prisoners once again changed back to the ones that the “Colonels” had imprisoned life became once again possible.

In other words, all changed back to the way things had been before the infamous coup, and Greece once again became Greece!

More about Greece.

Prince Phillip was born in Corfu, in the most unlikely named place, which was in Corfu town, It was called Mon Repos. Yes, really it was! So in fact, he was a Greek and not British. Just felt like saying that…. Not any reason, merely I felt like saying that.

When Greece was anti-British, as Britain was being horrid about Cypress and looked like Greece was about to go to war with Britain over Cypress, I found myself in Greece, to my horror, and I was really nervous about admitting that I was British. And a Greek said a most remarkable thing to me, when I did admit that I was British. He said, or words to that effect, “Their argument was with the British Government, not the British people, and that therefore I was OK”. I was overwhelmed by this……..

As I said in another post the other day, I used to see the women carrying water to the cafe on the beach at Glyfada, when I was on the beach there. These women used to carry water on their heads, not simply a bit of water, but about 50 litres! They used to carry this on their heads as they walked down the hill (the village they lived in was above the beach at Glyfada). Can you imagine the strength of these women, water weighed 50 kilos, and they walked down the hill with it! Amazing!

Corfu…. My time there….

Corfu is an island to the east of Greece, just where Greece joins Albania, where I spent some time. Well, actually rather a lot of time, I tended to rest there after having hitched from England, and it was the first bit of “Greece” I experienced

Corfu……. Near Albania.

I used to camp on a beach on the eastern side of the island, where I had all sorts of experiences, including the first time I smoked Marijuana! The last time I went to Corfu was a real disappointment as that beach I used to camp on, was full of Hotels and snack-bars and the village on top of the hill (where I used to watch the women carting the water to the one cafe which was on the beach. On their heads!) was full of tourists.

This beach was called Glyfada, by the way.

All manner of experiences happened to me, on that beach, apart from smoking my first joint, I was scared rigidly on one occasion as we experienced a thunder storm there, which came onto the beach we were sleeping on… Lightning was hitting the beach…. This was a first for me, lightning was landing about 20 meters from me!!!!!! Which was terrifying! We didn’t know where to go, as lightning was hitting the beach all over!

More about my time on Corfu later……….

My time in Greece…. Donkeys and other things…..

Lots of years ago, I spent a lot of time in Greece, wandering around, and learning how the Greeks did things, and how they lived. This was in the 60’s of the last century….. Long before everyone went to Greece!

A lot of time was spent hitching around Greece. One of my favourite things was the concept of Xenia, not as hatred of foreigners, but of welcoming them to their lives.

The concept of Xenia was to welcome foreigners (which meant anyone from a different place, not foreigners necessarily), but anyone from elsewhere – but not the neighboring villages, they felt about them as anyone in the world did….

That was different to our meaning of that word, which is xenophobia, which means hatred of foreigners, they welcomed them….

In the north of Greece, when I went into a village, everyone ran out the other side of the village, as I looked like a bandit (I had long hair and a beard, which only bandits wore in that time), so I simply sat down in a cafe and waited. The civil war was very fresh in everyone’s memories.

In due time the village priest came back, as he was untouchable for bandits, and sat beside me, to find out who I was. Once he discovered that I was a foreigner, he signaled the rest of the village, and they all came back – well, the men came back, not the women. I never saw any women at all.

I was then welcomed in the entire village houses…. All of them! Each night I had to stay in another house – and I never saw a woman! As payment, I brought the kids presents, as they would accept no other payment, as being paid went against the concept of Xenia. But I couldn’t take endlessly and felt that I should pay for things, as they were poor, poor, and – relatively, I was rich.

This soon stopped as Hippies abused this concept, and made use of it, and now, if you go to Greece, you will search for Xenia all over the place, but you won’t find it, sadly.

One of the other things I found with hitching around Greece was that I was given rides in the most extraordinary vehicles….. Given lifts on a donkey was not rare. I sat upon the donkey’s back and found myself in endless villages, and in army trucks was not a rare thing. I really enjoyed myself in Greece, and loved the Greeks, particularly the country ones.

I get cancer!!!!

I was recently diagnosed with Prostate Cancer, by chance, as it happens. I was sent for a scan by a urologist to check on problems with pissing, and what happened is that I was that he discovered a small cancer in my prostate!

Images of the difference between “ordinary” cells and cancer cells

This after the public section of the health system had been mucking about for several years, I went there, I was seen by a nurse, who reported to a doctor, (oh, I took a test piss, filling a bucket with piss) and that was repeated time after time….. So I got fed-up with this routine, so I went to a private Urologist instead.

There were about 5 cancer cells to be found in there, and he ordered another scan to check out how far it was and if it was curable, and this one discovered that there were no others, so it was a case of dealing with 5 cancer cells.

So sent me to a cancer specialist, who took one look at the scan, and decided that I needed to be irradiated at once…. So she set this up, so I had to go for 39 sets of radiations in another hospital – the one I saw her in didn’t have the capacity to deal with this.

This was painless, but boring………..

And entailed loads of driving too, about 70 km per day! But it worked!

In the end I was declared free of cancer cells, and I pissed 2 times a night as opposed to every three quarters of an hour… Which was a great relief. But the only thing was the “hot flushes” that I suffered from, as a result of the hormone injections I had – the idea was to stop the testosterone adding to the cancer, but it was a dreadful thing! I had “hot flushes” every few minutes, which was a real drag!!!!!!! And it went on for about a year as well. And I am still getting it at night, sadly.

But otherwise, I am cured completely, which is GREAT!!!!

Jobs I have had……..

In my life I have had many jobs, of various sorts. Ranging from being a Roadie, to being a puppeteer, lunatic attendant, ice cream seller and so on…. I have even been on a production line, putting peanut butter in jars and even (on one occasion) separating biscuits on a production line!

That one was a real job, I sat at a production line with a load of women beside me, separating biscuits as they came in front of me, talking the while about all manner of things. Just employed to make biscuits separate as they came past me. This was one of the jobs I had as a student, so not a “real” job, though it felt really real to me at the time!

One of the jobs I really enjoyed was working on a machine that put peanut butter in tubes. This consisted of a machine that delivered a measured amount of peanut butter to a jar, which I held in place, and then I had about 4 seconds to bung the lid on it. And now the IMPORTANT bit, it rolled the tube up from the end. And then I threw it into a box, and get ready for the next one.

This was really popular with people from overseas, as they thought that if they put a bit of Marijuana in the tube, it would get past the customs in whatever country they lived in…. I didn’t need to do this, as I lived in Holland anyway.

The idea was that the tube was open at the end, and the machine rolled the end up when it was full. So any “foreign” ingredient would be impossible to see, as opposed to a hand-rolled tube. So it would get past all customs….. I suspected that the various customs were up to that, and they got caught anyhow.

Later, I shall write about my icecream experiences and other such like jobs………

I was in a hospital with a resistance fighter.

While living in Singapore, (I was about 10) I found myself in hospital with a Chinese resistance fighter, who had been condemned to death by the British government, and who was, apparently, in a really bad way of health, and so the British government felt that he was too ill to be executed!

He was in hospital to get him into good health and then the British would take him out and hang him!

As I spoke Chinese (I went to a Chinese school – that will be a subject of another post https://ozthoughtsblog.com/2016/02/03/more-colonial-life-singapore-again/) and his guard was a Sikh who didn’t speak a word of Chinese, so I found out what was planned for him and it has made a real impression on my ever since as a heartless example of how governments work.

He explained how the British had promised a bunch of Chinese to stay in the jungle as they were losing it to the Japanese and when the British came back (!) they would pay them handsomely to continue the struggle on their behalf.

So in due time, when the fortunes of war went around and the British came back to Malaysia, the Chinese came out of the jungle and went to the British to be paid……

But the British had no intention of paying them, and kept putting them off with all manner of excuses. So in the end, the Chinese simply went back into the jungle, and took up arms against the British Planters instead of the Japanese.

The Chinese Communists were not involved in the beginning, but quite quickly became involved, as part of their struggle against the British elsewhere.

It was a real introduction to the way governments work for me.

I work in a lunatic asylum – Briefly……

When I was a student, I worked in a number of odd places, summer jobs mostly, but the oddest one was probably a lunatic asylum that I worked in one holidays. I worked in it simply because I was offered money to do it to pay for my summer holiday – in Greece I imagine.

It was in a closed ward, so called because in order to get in I had to open two doors, one of which would only open when I had the other closed, so it was a case of a sort of airlock in order to get into the ward. Once I got into it, I was confronted with three rooms, one a bedroom, another a day room, and then a bathroom – oh, and there were two padded cells opening of the day room. These we were not able to use without doctors attending the patient telling us it was OK to bung him in the padded cells, but I have to say they were amazing for a short nap. They had padded floors, walls, and ceiling, oh, and a door too… Great places to have a kip!!

We had to deal with all sorts of problems in this space, from syphilis to Huntington’s disease and all sorts of other diseases. People suffering from the advanced form of syphilis were really objectionable, argumentative and generally unpleasant, whereas people suffering from Huntington’s Disease were really rather sad, as the disease followed a well known track and was inevitable. Once it has started it went on for a predictable path, and ended up with the patient going totally insane….. Horrible to see how it how it was with people who hadn’t progressed very far!

We were (obviously) confronted with death on a daily basis in that ward… (to see how I have dealt with corpses in my life, as I have often been confronted with death often https://wordpress.com/post/ozthoughtsblog.com/2529).

One patient I well remember was a Roman soldier, an officer I remember. He died one day, having gone to the lavatory at night, and slipped and fell, and broken his hip. If other people had this happen to them, they got all sorts of treatment, but lunatics didn’t. A doctor was called and he “prescribed” rest and a bag of sand (to keep his thigh in place), and that was that. Obviously he died in agony, as he wouldn’t stay still, and tried to get out of bed all day…. He died after several days, peacefully in his sleep, while I sat beside him. I used to ask him about his bunch of men everyday, and he was totally in that world, so he told me how it was with his soldiers, which he really saw in his mind…. He was another of those men who had been found wandering around a railway station, and no one had ever come forward to say who he was. This was the story of a lot of men there………. Lots of men.

I used to go along the corridors to get to my ward, and there I was confronted with mad women…. And I can tell you I was really grateful not to have to deal with them, as they seemed madder than the men….

I was much impressed by this job, as I have said, it was a really powerful experience. I was surrounded by death and madness on a daily basis, most of the men in my “Care” were insane in one or another way, and demonstrated it too. Most were amenable in general, and didn’t make waves in one or another way. I used to ask men who were suffering from “visions” to describe my hands to me…. And it was amazing! The way they described it to me was every time different. They used to say, about their palm “Blue paper with orange gaps…” I used to ask them to describe the same thing at once, and they said ” Now it is red with bloody bits”. Endlessly fascinating.

It was a fascinating job, and remarkable too…… I learnt so many life lessons doing that job. Probably the main one was that Death came for every one and that generally it was peaceful and calm – though not always!

Malaysia – My Experiences There…….

Our vision of Malaysia

Our experience of Malaysia was odd….. I had been there as a kid, well, I had lived in Singapore during the gorilla war there, and Singapore had changed out of recognition, so I didn’t recognise it any more, but Kuching, in Borneo, was familiar, as the houses there were, by and large, human sized, rather than skyscrapers, which is what they have become in Singapore – generally about three stories high, and that was that.

Kaula Lumpur, on the other hand was enormous! Huge buildings, including the famous double tower, which is……

Petronas Twin Towers

The one good thing about KL, as it is known by all the inhabitants of that huge city, is the network of walkways that go everywhere and on top of that, they are also airconditioned!!!! I wandered through this system frequently…. And loved it too. It was seriously the best way to get around KL.

View of inside walkway.

View of open part of walkway.

As it has shops and cafes inside it, it is not necessary to go outside if you want to get around in KL.

That amazing system aside, KL is a normal city, and in no way remarkable. We lived in a block of flats, in no way remarkable. I shall write about that soon.