July 22, 2008 - Tuesday - Day 22
USA/MEXICO/CANADA
DOUBLE CROSS COUNTRY
& THE TRANSCANADA HIGHWAY
-- OR BUST - SUMMER 2008
Miles Today - 240 - Total Miles - 4981
Ensenada, Mexico to Los Angeles,CA
(-staying at former 4th grade student, Paul Livingstone's home -)
(Mexico-LA)
- BACK IN THE SADDLE AGAIN -
I've often said that one of the hardest parts of traveling like this is the saying good-bye to folks befriended.
I took one last look at a wonderful black and white photo in the bathroom of the casita. It's a huge portrait of downtown New York City by a photographer Lou Stoumen. How delightfully ironic that the picture as this of such an urbanized citified-to-the-max area should be in this out-of-the-way location.
After a run, I pulled all my newly organized stuff together. After packing it onto the bike, and a few photos, we took off out of Charles' garage, down the dirt and gravel road, and out onto the highway.
I pulled over to Charles and Carol at one point at a stop, and told them I was enjoying this last ride on Mexican roadways, but with a lump in my throat.As I saw Charles slowing to a traffic light a half-block away, the thought came to me that motorcycling, like life itself is often all about looking ahead, and planning accordingly.
Along the way was a scene out of Ensenada that I wish I had been able to photograph… it was two little bicycles and a flowered cross - where small kids must have been killed. It was a poignant - and chilling - scene.
There were a number of trucks and billboards advertising “Jersey Milk”… I was thinking THEY must be way off course.
We pulled off the main highway about 20 miles in front of the border. Charles went down one street and made just a dandy and easy-seeming u-turn. It took me about five minutes of duckwaddle forward and backward to negotiate that turn which he made so effortlessly. Part of the problem was because at the previous toll booth there was a bit more oil on the ground than at other toll booth stops. And because of that the bottom of my boots were pretty slippery.
Charles and Carol peeled off at the roadway into the States. I was very appreciative of them taking me to the border. It was the end of a huge number of things they did for me for which I am appreciative.
I was at the end of about three or four very long lines. As I waited there mulling whether to split the lanes, i.e. go up between the lines of cars, many of them, seeing my hesitation, waved me along and told me to just go. I did.
I had to pull up the highway pegs to fit between the steaming cars and trucks. And at times vendors got in my way as they hawked their souvenir wares and flavored ices. I was about 25 minutes in the snaking string of vehicles. The roadway had some dangerous grooves there as I wended my way through the sometimes obnoxious and sometimes noxious odors.
Finally, of course, I got to the front of the line. The older, clearly overworked guy, had me move forward a bit to see my license plate, asked me the usual questions about why I had come to Mexico, how long I had been there, and if I had bought anything while there. I then told him about my trip, and he waved me on through the tollbooth-like structure.
It was surprisingly emotional getting back to the United States. Had to clear my eyes a few times after crossing the border.
Except for the boiler pot of heat around the long line of cars at the border, there was a slight chill in the air most of the day. Even thought of pulling on my gloves.
While on the trip back in Texas somewhere I had gotten an email from Paul Livingstone. He had been digging around some old papers and found the booklet I had made for his 1980-81 fourth grade class when I was his teacher. He googled me, and emailed me, and learned that I was headed toward the west coast, and he invited me over…
I got to the pre-arranged place of meeting, the music studio in LA where he taught, a bit earlier than expected, at about 3:30pm. He was in the middle of giving a lesson. I sat on the old porch and hooked up with broadband, and enjoyed being in the sun catching up on emails. The studio was up about a hundred steps on a massive hill that overlooked what seemed to me all of the LA northern 'burbs. The huge skyscrapers of LA were off in the distance about 8 miles off, in a pool of afternoon haze.
Paul poked his head out the door, and I said, “I'm Joel, here looking for that last fourth grade assignment that you owe me!”
Shortly, Paul and his student, Michael, came out on the spacious porch and while Paul played his viola, Michael sang a song he had written while playing his guitar. Michael wore a t-shirt that read “QUIT WORK, MAKE MUSIC”. He had just returned from music camp, and was clearly into his guitar and the music he made with it.
After a bit, we moved into the spacious studio. A number of sitars - strange looking instruments to me - were hanging from the ceiling. The two guys sat on the floor and played some sitar and guitar together. Somehow the subject of poetry came up and I asked Michael what his favorite poem was. I do this a lot with folks, and when it's one I know, I delight in being able to recite it for them. Michael mentioned two, Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening by Frost, and Kubla Khan by Coleridge.
The really wonderful thing was that while I recited, the two played music to the recitation. Paul was sorry later that he hadn't recorded it…. It was a terrific moment there on the hilltop.
Michael's dad came to pick him up shortly. The dad had the firmest handshake of anyone I'd met yet on the trip.
Back in the studio I learned that Paul is one of the only folks who plays what's called a “fretless” guitar. A fret is a (usually) metal bar that keeps the notes separated. The sliding notes, associated with Indian-type music is made possible when there are no frets.
There was a recital poster there of interest on a music stand. It was Paul's Masters Recital Poster. The subject involved Dr. Suess - a wonderfully whimsical topic I thought, for such a serious project.
I called my music teaching pal, Ken Peters, back in Pennsylvania. He's the one who should really have been here to appreciate all this!
Paul just finished his fourth cd. He sells them on-line at tanpura.com. He has met and played with Ravi Shankar, who I learned is in the Guinness Book of records for the longest performing career. I delighted in seeing a picture of Paul with Ravi.
Paul's into the microtonal practice and theory of music which is an exploration of tuning systems based outside of the traditional 12-tone system.
I was sorry to miss Laticia, Paul's wife. She and his two daughters are in Mexico at the moment, visiting relatives.
Paul was born in Lebanon, then lived in Aspen, Colorado. Then lived in Havertown,PA where I had him as a student. Then, after a stay in southern California, Paul moved to India when he was 15 because he wanted to go to an international school to learn sitar. (He just got back last February from his third trip to India, where he had his first performance tour there. Thirty-seven year old Paul has now played sitar for 22 years.)
Paul told me that he had received an artist APPEX fellowship in 2001 to Bali with 16 different artist-types from eight different countries. I surmised, “All the creativity flying around there must have been something!”
This guy has been all over the world. He's been in El Salvador, throughout the US, Portugal, Morocco, Spain, France, England, Belgium, eight different states in Mexico, Italy, Germany, Czechoslovakia, India, Malaysia, Indonesia, Java, and Bali. He's performed in about half the above countries. I mentioned to Paul somewhat meekly, “And here I though I was doing so great doing three countries on my motorcycle.” We laughed.
Paul advised me that Los Angeles was the second largest Spanish speaking country in the world.
We drove about a mile to a local little market for a few items. And then to Paul's place about another mile away. He noted that he felt very fortunate to not have a huge commute like so many others in Los Angeles.
I didn't feel it fortunate to have such a greatly steep street and driveway on which to park the Nomad. I had to do a LOT of maneuvering to get it in a position where I even felt a little secure about it.
Another high rise of steps brought us up to Paul's apartment. (No wonder the guy stays so slim with these steps and the ones at his studio!) At the top of the steps is a great view of the San Gabriel Mountains. Paul said that it's wonderful seeing the mountains, but that when he first came here, the pollution prevented being able to see them.
Paul made me supper. I was as hesitant of the meal here as I was of the water in Mexico… Part of the meal was made of the lentil, dal. Paul said I'd be eating the staple food of a billion people around the world. I joked, “Well, I JUST got this the other day in Taco Bell.”
I cautioned Paul - about fifteen times - as he was preparing each ingredient - that spices were something that just didn't sit well with me, especially in the midst of a long journey, and my experiences with Indian foods had taught me they were most usually spicy… He promised me it would be okay…
And it was more than okay… it was superb! The dal sauce over the rice was delicious. The few spoonfuls of chana masala, which was a garbanzo bean curry next to it on the plate, burned my lips a bit. I finished it none-the-less, but it was just fair to me. But the dal is something I'm surely going to look up in the future.
In a bit, Paul's friend, Kahl, came over. A bearded guy with sparkling eyes, Kahl, whose real name is Chris Moore, is from Philadelphia. The two didn't know each other back east, but had met around here studying world music at the California Institutes of the Arts. (That's where Paul got his BFA and MFA degrees. Paul also taught there for five years!) Kahl joined us for the meal.
“When one eats raw foods,” noted Paul, “one can taste the sunlight in them.”
Re foods, Paul said to me, “You have an open mind, now you need an open palate.”
Shortly, Paul's 9pm student came. A Hindu college student from Fiji, Sanjay brought some things for the observance today in his culture of Guru Purnima, a special day in India where everyone is meant to honor their teachers with a special ceremony. That ceremony involves the “arti”, a brass plate with some flowers, and a lit wick inside of a clay vessel of oil. It also included a ceremony of lighting incense and putting an application of red paste on the forehead of the teacher, and feeding him or her sweets from hand to mouth. He also performed “pranam”, a touching of the feet in bowing motion. Sanjay has never been to India, and Paul surmised that he's so really into Indian things because of that.
A lot of good things are coming together for Paul lately. One is that some of his music was recently selected for the background music in an art film. He was sure happy about that - that it was happening, AND for the bucks! He also, while I was there, got invitations to perform in North Carolina and in Mexico. The North Carolina gig folks found him on the internet. Paul observed that the internet really “levels the playing field. One doesn't have to be a super star any more to be found,” he said.
I learned about ghee - a clarified butter. A little of that was in the concoction we had for dinner.
The sitar is based on a 2000 year old instrument… Paul and Kahl had a special 'concert' for me in which they played a “raga” which is an Indian classical melody. Paul played sitar, while Kahl rhymically played the tabla, a type of drum set.
They played for quite awhile, and Sanjay joined them. I enjoyed the show immensely. And then came a Skype call from my friend, Jim Christaldi. It was about 1am his time. He was sitting there with his guitar in his studio back in Broomall, Pennsylvania. The three of them then, Paul on sitar, Kahl on tabla, and Jim with his guitar played an intercontinental jam session. How amazing was that!
After the other fellows left, Paul and I chatted until after 11. We spoke of old things and new, and plans for the future.
After that I washed up, and crawled into the bottom bunk in the girl's room. It was a typical teenager room with clothing and posters all over.
In that booklet of events that sparked Paul contacting me, I had written a personal note to him on the front inside page. It read, “Best of luck in all your travels.” I guess never realized or dreamed how far flung those travels would be…
Note:
To view the many photos from today and the whole trip, you can visit
http://www.photostockplus.com/home.php?tmpl=45&user_id=42473&event=196141. Some folks have reported trouble with this link, but most find that it works. Sometimes it takes two tries… Also, you can check out the past day journal entries by going to joelperlish.com, and clicking on the appropriate trip down at the bottom on the left hand corner or just going to http://www.joelperlish.com/blog/blog.html.)
