Holy Varanasi, getting down with Shiva

Arriving off the 17 hour train from New Delhi at 4:30am i stepped onto the train platform and headed to the stairs. I noticed in the reflection of a passing windowpane that i was being tracked by two people. I turned around and they looked like cockroaches caught under a light. i have seen plenty of recently them so i should know. I have seen more James Bond movies then these two for sure. i stared right at them as the younger one moved away the older one noticing that i had caught him and his sneaking  decided to cut his losses and come right at me. I looked as mean as i could as he approached, he raised his arms in a disarming way, i wasn't falling for it and i tried to look meaner with a touch of ugly disgruntledness. he came closer andddddddddddd It turns out he was just a rickshaw driver looking for a fair. Bummer. My hopes of winning my first street fight in a train station was put on hold. I was tired anyway. We drove into the early morning darkness in search of a cheap guesthouse, one i am sure he was getting a commission from. I told him my price range and the first place we entered was about two dollars too high, i wonder if there was some sort of language barrier. The second place we came to seemed to fit my needs perfectly, perfect. I offloaded my stuff and walked the back alleyways to the Ganges river. One of India most holy cities, people come here to wash away there sins in the Ganges and to be cremated here on its banks. being burned here has special significance for Hindus, it means a break in the cycle of rebirth, being burned here means attaining nirvana. I reached its banks at 6 am and took a boat for a hour up the river through day break. It was a eye opening and a truly wow experience. i had a boat to myself and one rower/ tour guide. I paid triple the rate because i was only one person but after seeing the other boats packed with 25 tourist and no where to stand, i felt great about paying 8 dollars. Varanasi is a assault on the senses. Watching a body being ceremoniously burned is something i wont soon forget. In Varanasi you come face to face with life and death and questions without easy answers. After my boat ride and a four hour walk along its banks i was ready for lunch. the night before due to a miss communication i had found myself with 13 bananas and 5 mandarins. Not wanting to risk my health, on Indian railway food, i had stuck to a diet of fruit. I was starving and when i got back i had the best Dal Makhani in the city, i was told, its certifiable.  Anyway, A few chipatta's later i was full and ready for more bug killing on the roof. I laid all my things out and made a new friend, David. He was one of the aforementioned people that never leave India either mentally of physically. From what i can tell his case was more mental than anything else. We sat and talked, well, he talked mostly, i nodding here and there as i killed my bed bug problem. He was German, there are a lot out here, they have a serious travel itch. We got a long and decided to head to the Ganges and watch sun down. India, is surreal its people as curious as can be and i find myself being stared at constantly. This day was no different, David and I are in at least 5 Indian family photo albums. They got a kick out of the beard and the dreadlocks David was sporting. I get a lot of compliments on the beard around here and it has encouraged me to take it a little bit furthur. I left Varanasi a little too early but in India you have to book your train tickets a week or more in advance so its impossible for me to know how much i will like a place till i get there and by then i already have my next three train tickets already booked. That's the downside, the upside of train travel is that is reliable and cheap, also it goes everywhere. 20 million Indians ride the rails everyday. another fun fact that the bathrooms empty directly on to the track. yikes. They are a wild part with greatly varying levels of comfort class. I have taken two night sleeper trains so far and am about to board my third. They are all i will take, maybe and odd bus of two. In SEA buses do most of the transport and i hate them, so India has been refreshing in that way.
                       I showed up in Khajuraho not really knowing what to expect but i had made the decision early on that i would stay there a few days, for no particular reason just wanted to put my feet up and be able to unpack my bags, change my underwear maybe.Maybe. So i found a great spot and decent room really close to the Hindu temples. I got there at about 10am and quickly learned that the next day was the beginning of 15 days of carnival honoring lord Shiva. I was recommended to head to the temples as soon as i can because the next days would be swamped with pilgrims from near and far. So i did and they were unbelievable. These temples, not looted or sacked by centuries of war have remained unbelievably untouched and preserved. The carvings are almost three dimensional, they cover huge sections of the temples as well as all the positions in the Karma Sutra, i was interesting. There are some real humor in some of them too, something i have never seen in such a religious site. That night at Midnight, true to word, the Indians dropped what they were doing and got down. The first three days honor Shiva and his marriage to Parvati. Thousands converged on a Shiva temple where they washed by the lake and prayed to a large marble linga which had been erected, centuries ago, splashing water on it and giving it flowers. As i sat in the arid landscape watching from the other side of a lake i was ambushed by a man name Bali. I have been ambushed and talked too by Indians for the last week, it doesn't phase me anymore. Bali told me it was his daughters birthday and he would like to invite me back to his home for dinner. I had absolutely nothing to do so i said sure and thus started a friendship i hope will continue for many years. We made the long walk back to his little village and entered his "compound". Small and covered with plants and shade his little, smaller than my last bedroom, house nestled next to a tree in the midst of a garden was a oasis from the heat. I was struck by how little they had, no bed, no real room for a bed, a small open wood burning stove sat being lit by his wonderful wife Sonu. The children came home, one 9 one 7 and cute as buttons. Bali started to prepare dinner in a whirlwind of pots and pans, mixing and frying. He was a former chef who lost his job and now tries to get tourist to visit his home in hopes they like his cooking enough to give him some money for it. I knew that going in, or had suspected it but to be honest helping him cook in his little home with his wife watching over and the kids playing in the one roomed house was such a great experience. It was easy to rationalize, buy food from him or a vendor/ restaurant somewhere. I have eaten at his place every day for the last three. He was so eager to work and from what i could tell getting desprete for a change in his life. He had been shunned by his and his wife family after they got married for love instead of a traditional arranged marriage. its an interesting culture.He didn't have it easy, still doesn't. He was happy, his children smiled, his wife looked on him dotingly, proud of him. I have come to know him as a good man, so humble and true, honest with a real love for people and life in general. His wife used to sew cloths but her sewing machine broke and they haven't the money to fix it and it sits and collects dust. She makes very simple but very nice shirts and pants, i bought one shirt for 5 dollars, they made me wear it to our next dinner and she looked to happy to see it worn, her work, meaningful again. There dog was "Tommy" she, i know, she was nice but didn't listen to a thing she was told, Bali has such a gentle spirit he never raised his voice or changed tone and the dog feared no reprisal. I was able to buy some food for one of our meals and struck by just how little things cost here. For under a dollar i got 2.2 pounds of potatoes, one pound of onions, two large garlic cloves and a head of cauliflower?! I was also given a carrot, i have no idea why. i am eating an all vegetarian diet for four reasons, its cheaper here compared to meat dishes, widely available, so darn good and it keeps me away from the risker foods. Farm animals roam the streets all day and if you saw the things that cattle and goats are eating, you might not want to have it anyway. Hindus don't eat cow, Ghandi once said that they were the mothers of mankind and they adorn many temples. I have not had Delhi Belly yet and hope to continue my streak.  Today at breakfast we exchanged details and promised to keep in touch. I was given a sack lunch for the train along with a horde of Indian spices and seeds, with instructions for each. I hope to look in my garden one day and see Bali's place. Cook food with his spices and remember just how much better he could cook then i can :). I know i was paying for my meals but it took nothing away from the feasts and laughs we shared. I was able for a small time, to step into what is common amongst the 250 million Indians living below the poverty line and catch a gimps of how hard it must be to make it through the week. I have a wider understanding of a different existence, it was really neat. I don't have pictures this time for two reasons, i broke my camera and don't want to risk putting my SD card into any computer around here for fear of losing everything. I head to Agra, in fact i have already been and left but i am behind on this blog by a day or two. Be well all and much love to you guys back home. 

Get ready here's Delhi

Finally escaped Bangkok with my life. I arrived in Delhi about 8:30 pm. I hate getting into a new city after dark, everything is so much harder and when you wake up, everything looks different. The flight was fine, in fact, great. I had some decent food, a empty seat next to me and we didn't crash. I got through immigration OK which is becoming a bit of a problem. I now look nothing like my passport picture and it takes a few glances at me, the photo, me, the photo and then a long stare during which i sort of put my hand over the beard, smile and raise my shoulders as if to say "beards, they happen, you know?". Bags in hand and into the cab, got to my guest house fine, slept like a baby. After 7 days in the sweat lodge that was my last room, the cool Delhi night was welcomed with open arms. I woke once to a call about 12 pm asking if i had change for a 500 rupee note, i said i didn't, they said, sleep. I said I would but they had hung up already. I woke again when the phone rang at 8 am asking if I wanted any tea. I said I didn't know, my eyes weren't open yet. There was a long pause, then, "sleep", i really tired to hang up first but missed the receiver. I woke today on a mission. Train tickets. had to get me some train tickets. I left the guest house and decided not to come back, they seemed less friendly then last night when i was checking in. That always seems to happen. They assured me i wouldn't find a cheaper place in all of Delhi, i told them that it sounded like i would be back then, if that was the case. It wasn't, i found one actually, a cheaper place, right next door. Odd, i don't think they have a solid grasp on the guest house market in New Delhi. I thought about letting them know, but i decided against it, i will call tonight at 12 and tell them. i walked out of my new guest house, i have no idea what the name is, i lost track of the names since Laos. I walked though the small back alleys looking for the way out of the mouse maze and some guy said "hello sir" i said, "hello" he responded with "have you been here before?", as a general rule you say yes for a number of reasons. "Yes a few times", "because you know the way your walking is a dead end", i looked up, it sure the heck was. "oh yeah, yeah, i ahhhh always make that mistake", he smiled pointing in the right direction. I am staying in Pahar Ganj, the backpacker ghetto, there isn't many of us really. in fact all the ones i have seen look like they have been here awhile. I heard that can happen to you, seriously. People come in but not everyone comes out. But the point is its on the Main Bazar a wild hodge podge of dinning, cloths, shops and people , cars, cows, rickshaws and motor bikes. Potholes, dog poop, tea shops and street food. Its pretty neat. I went in search of the railways station, which according to the lonely planet was THE place to buy tickets if you were a foreigner. i am so that's what i was looking for and a really kind young man walked me right to an official government run travel agent. What a kid. I sat through what i knew would be a hopeless effort to book a ticket with, John, my very friendly, slowly turning very unfriendly agent. After he gave me the grand finally price and i looked at it, it was half my total budget for 6 weeks in India, and we were only on the first week of the tickets i needed. I said i needed to go. Again, i didn't follow my gut, i let this kid, who was waiting for me outside when i got out, to walk me right into the lions den. I was hungry and getting frustrated and was tired of telling him over and over that i in fact i didn't need any of the really good hash he had for cheap. My neck less told him otherwise. He persisted till i walked into a dinner to get something to eat. I sat frustrated, looking at the menu and a guy asked to join me. He was a white guy, but played the part of an Indian. He was a hari chrisna priest. At first i wanted to kick the chair out from under him and run but after we started talking i couldn't have been more thankful that he had sat down. He spoke perfect hindi and over Aloo Gobi and some fresh Naan we talked about trains, he confirmed what i already knew. i needed to go to the train station and he would be happy to show me the way, he was walking there anyway. I opened the door and the kid was still waiting for me, my new friend spoke a few words and i haven't seen him since. He also walked me to the train station after assuring me that he would not try to convert me and there i found what i was looking for. After a hour of waiting i had my first two tickets. I head to Varanasi tomorrow and from there to Khajuraho. From there i will decide, probably Agra, to the Taj, i have heard its decent :). I left feeling a world better and with a new German friend, Samuel. i found him a room in my nameless guest house and i went to the roof to spread my cloths out so the sun could kill or drive the only souvenir i had gotten from Bangkok from my cloths. Bed bugs, lots of bed bugs. I have bites well, a lot of places. i, am, itchy, as, shit. So there i was, sitting with a Israeli, watching the skyline and enjoying the sunshine when a few hawks started to circle over us. A few more, then a few more. Before we knew it there was maybe 150 huge hawks flying right over us. On the roof next door there was a man with a large bowl and he was tossing meat up into the air. I have never seen so many massive birds in one place swooping and diving, clawing and biting. only a few times did they fight over a bit of meat and when there claws finally came lose you could literally hear the crack. It was awesome. we sat and looked into the bright blue sky and were speechless. i sat for an hour before he was done getting rid of the meat.

National Geographic eat your heart out. i walked out of there thinking wow! India! i quickly dodged a fast moving rickshaw only to run straight into the path of a even fast moving Elephant. i stood jaw open as it lumbered by, painted from ear to ear. Now, here i am about to embark on the wildest of wild, a trip within a trip a dream within a dream, are you sure you can't come? 

The school and Khao San revisited

Ludwig and I ended our Cambodian leg with a unique opportunity, one we couldn't pass up. We were randomly asked on the street to teach at a school for orphans and underprivileged children. Wa Ha, an orphan himself, had created a school for children to learn English in the rural countryside and was soliciting people by motorbike around the temples of Angkor Wat. We, seasoned in the ways of the tout, ignored him as he tried to stop us on the street. Waving our arms as if in deep conversation and we just couldn't be bothered. If a tout reaches his hand out, you never take it. You might think at first "a friendly soul" but he will simple hold it until he is done trying to sell you his wears. Or you might have to ask for it back and then you only get it back 50% of the time without some sort or wiggle maneuver. Common is the "where you go?" "where you from?" "Tuk Tuk?" Anything to get you to stop so they can have your attention. Its best to look busy and keep moving with a polite "no thank you". It might sound harsh, but if you don't, you will never make it five feet and there is a good chance you will literally turn into a broken record. "up the street, United States, no thanks i can walk" repeat.  When Wa Ha approached us we were ready with our defense but as we passed waving out hands politely he said softly, "I'm not selling anything". We stopped, our ears had never heard those words before. We listened to his offer. Three hots and a cot for teaching English to those who really needed help, a three day minimum was required and one only needed to pay for transportation. We said we would think about, we never discussed the merits of an offer in front of anyone for obvious reasons. My mind however was already made up and after half a block Ludwig's was too, we would go to the school. Now i know the ironies of me teaching English, i know if Wa Ha had read this blog he might have thought twice but verbally, i aint to bad. We were picked up by motor bike and driven an hour in the the back country outside of Siem Reap. Where farming and handmade crafts were the only source of their very, very small incomes. It was apparent when we arrived that they had nothing really except for curious looks and some odd smiles. We got off and looked around, we saw this.

 Stilted houses and the school straight ahead. The school, created with the donated monies from travelers like me wasn't much. We had three sessions a day, ruffly three hours total. One hour before the children went to regular Khmer School and one at lunch when they were given time off from there normal school and one in the afternoon before they went home. We were just in time for our first lesson. Wow. i stepped into the school which was nothing more that a concrete floor with a few old and weathered dry erase boards some tables and plastic chairs. We were given a sort of text book if you could call it that, the "listen and learn series". this particular learning series required all student to have a copy and to listen to an audio tape, we had only two copies and WE were the audio tapes. Ludwig and i looked at each other, this was going to be hard. The book had a lot of pictures that would have certainly helped the children if all 30 of them could have seen them but they couldn't. I was to start the day with the teaching of "Nouns". Imagine explaining what a noun is but first having to explain the words person, place and thing. It was very hard, that first hour, i felt like maybe i didn't know any English either. Ludwig was worse, his English was good but not great he opted for "getting drunken" and "packing his clothes" "Making party" i stepped in and with some pictures and hand gestures and a little luck we survived to teach again. Most hours it was the same, trying to figure out how to translate the lesson from the book to the white board, then translate that to the children, make them recite it, then ask them to copy it down. After the third or so i found my groove and the children warmed to me. Ludwig and i were separated and worked with smaller groups. My favorite was the early session, it wasn't that hot, the kids were in a good mood and not exhausted from a days full of learning already. 

Most of the time they behaved and seemed eager to learn. There was a lot of chatter between them sometimes and i, not knowing what they were saying, figured it was a wise crack about the teachers big nose or smelly cloths but i let it slide, after all i was a substitute. My job was to pick up where the others had left off as best i could without over reaching my authority. I have seen many substitutes make that mistake and they're never able to regain control of the class again. Our least favorite time was the afternoon when Ming would join us, a local college kid, studying English, who donated his time, he was too harsh on the children, had a bit of a temper and needed a little more patience. He also spoke terrible English and we decided was probably doing more harm then good. He would recite the words that i was writing on the board and it would be a terrible version. i would have to wait for them to all repeat it, then gently recite it for them all, even Ming. Ming and the frustrations over the notebooks aside. it was all worth it when you got one of these.

Try not to focus on the growing hole in my hairline but the smile on this kids face, i know its hard. it melts my heart even now looking at him. He could draw a mean bird and i know if he was given the chance of a good education he could really do something with it. he could go far, most of them all could. He was one of my favorites and i miss him. After the lessons were over I taught them every children's game i ever knew, freeze tag, Simon says, musical chairs but the one that they took to the most was, well i don't remember what it was called, i could have combined it with three others but i made them all stand one foot on a log.

I would always ask if there foot was in fact on the log and catch the cheaters (my favorite part). Ask if they were ready to play after i had heard them yelling loud enough for my satisfaction i would start. I turned my back and shouted go! then Freeze! those who hadn't frozen by the time i turned around were out. those who advanced to a downed banana palm first without me seeing them move, won. I played until my voice was horse and sweat poured down my face, it was so hot under the sun and they always wanted to play. "Jack! Game!!!! Jack!!! Game!!!!" they chanted. Its a testament to how good i am at teaching English when i can't get them to say Jake isn't it? It would start with 5-10 kids and before you knew it, we had spectators.

After playing, Jack always needed some rest, they wouldn't stop playing until i had to quit. Seeing their disappointed faces always made me play at least a few more rounds. I left with a heavy heart, donated some money but its not enough. Three days was just enough to get attached, get them listening to you and break your heart saying goodbye. I wish i had stayed longer. There was a little awkwardness with Wa Ha and Ming and i think Ludwig and i let it get in the way of the good feelings we felt by helping. I truly hope to go back. These kids live in the shadow of there countries greatest treasures and have never seen them. Much like children who live near Disney world but have never had the money to enter. They have nothing, they really ask nothing of you but the deserve so much, imagine choosing to to come to school for three extra hours a day. I wish i had stayed. I think about there faces a lot. I think about how i could help them when i get home maybe some of you reading this will join me in that mission.

I arrived back in Bangkok a week ago, said goodbye to Ludwig as he departed to Nepal on day two and i was on my own again, after a month with Ludwig, that awesome German was gone and i was walking the streets of Bangkok for maybe three hours by myself before i heard my name and felt a large hug. Friends from Laos, ridicules really but really cool all the same. It had been a month since i had seen them and there they were. we had one last hurrah as they were off to the islands the next day and i promptly got the sickest i have been on my trip by far and spent the whole day in and out of consciousness and the shared bathroom. My room at 6 dollars a night could be compared with a closet that doubled as a oven. i have a fan that felt like a blow dryer and my first encounter with bed bugs. It was the worst 24 hours i have had in a long long long long time and it took me about two and a half days to fully get over it. I have recovered now and feel fully ready, ready as i ever will be, to concur India. i have 41 days there, i am eager to start. This time tomorrow i will be touching down in Delhi. OK so i am sort of nervous, well, really nervous actually, but my beard will protect me.

Peace, love, blessing to you all.

The Kingdom of Cambodia

i have spent a little over two weeks in this county, after the beach we headed inland to the capital, Phnom Penh.  It was a hard two days, mentally. We visited the sites, two of which will always stay with me, dead in my soul. Tuol Sleng, the secret Khmer Rouge prison known only as S21. When Pol Pot cleared the cities of Cambodia to force its people to go back to the land and farm, S21had been a school of learning but quickly and quietly turned into a prison of torture and death. I have no pictures, i wanted none. To walk the grounds and see where these Innocent people lived there last days will forever be frozen in my memory. More than 20,000 people passed through the doors and only seven are known to have survived. It is now in the heart of a bustling city as a place in which to show the world and the Khmer people the truth about the sadistic regime. After that, if that wasn't enough we went to visit the infamous Killing Fields where the people who had been tortured to confess were executed and buried in mass graves. The land today is solemn. Quite and peaceful but it takes only a little imagination to reconstruct what went on here. There are bone, teeth and cloths that resurface from there graves after heavy rains and you have to be careful where you walk as not to step on the body of a once living being. It took a lot out of Ludwig and I. As it did everyone. This was only 30 years ago. 30 years, this was happening as my parents brought be into this world. Once again i am witness to the carnage and wrath of man and it makes my soul ache for our species. The one difference between the Nazi era death camps and those in Cambodia was the simple fact that "Angkar" or the organization, was killing its own people. Millions died most through unspeakable brutality as the Khmer Rouge didn't waste bullets on there victims. they were to expensive. No one was spared, not the old, not the weak, not the women or the children. No one was safe from Pol Pot. It was chilling and real and as hard to see as anything i have ever seen. We left without saying much but the look on each others faces said it all. How? Why? Where was world? Where was the United States when this was happening? How did we let this happen. The Vietnamese where the only ones that stopped them. They alone freed the Cambodian people and allowed them to regain there lives. It is not ancient history and its scary to think of this happening again. Wondering is it happening again, Burma? North Korea? If you go to Cambodia, this is certainly a place you must visit but prepare yourself for something you might have never felt before raw, unrelenting sadness.

We left the capital the next day but not after i was able to test out some of what China unfortunately makes millions of.  The AK-47 on full auto.

We found some good cheap eats and some things we probably would never have.

Yikes

Khmer Curry is different than most i have had, not as strong or as spicy, but the spicy pickles made up for what the curry lacked. this was one of our favorite meals, costing a little over a dollar. One dollar is my limit on most meals and sometimes its hard to find something other then fried noodles or papaya salad. But on this   day, we ate like kings.

Two days in the capital was enough for us and we took a mini van to Siem Reap, the home of Cambodia's pride and joy, the temples of Angkor. I have possibly one thousand pictures of these massive, mind blowing temples. i will spare you most and also don't wish to ruin it for you if you ever come here but its one stop on my journey that has surpassed the hype. Abandoned when the trade routes became lucrative elsewhere in the country and forgotten for century's. When a French explorer stumbled upon them again they have show the power at the height of the Khmer Empire. Each Temple, of which there are more than 30 are all different as one king after another tried to build the most grand of them all. Motos and Tuk Tuks offer tours for 15 dollars a day but we opted to rent bikes for one 1USD. For three days we biked to more than 15 temples. Covering some 70 kilometers. I forgot to mention that in Cambodia they use American dollars. That's right, 99% of the ATMs only give out USD. It blows my mind still but, well there it is. Real, the official money of the Khmer is only used in place of our coin money, so wild.

The Temples are found deep in the jungle and we started our days at 5:00 am to beat the crowds. The first day we spent 12 hours touring.

Many of the temples have were swallowed by the jungle as they slept for centuries. Its an amazing sight. Tha Prom made famous in the movie Tomb Raider is the best example nature triumphing man.

i think this is one of my top pics from our three day tour, i just marvel at the size of these trees left to bend mans creations.

Swallowed whole, its incredible to me.

Angkor Wat at sunrise, i wont ruin it with lots of pics, there but its so massive and inspiring. It adorns the Cambodian National Flag.

Bayon, in the holy city of Angkor Thom was the highlight of our trip we woke early enough to  beat the crowds, we had this temple which boast 216 huge Buddha faces all different. it was an amazing morning. if you look close or blow up this picture you can see so man. Can you imagine what this place looked like when there was a million people living there? To keep it in perspective at the same time London had a mere 50,000 inhabitants.

Its hard to pic a favorite but this has to be one of the best i made, its at least ten feet by 15 feet. And Bayon has 216!

The west gate of Angkor Thom, there are five altogether and wall that surrounds it miles long.

There are literally thousands of depictions of Khmer woman and they are stunning. what are missing from all the temples are almost every Buddha image. The Khmer Rouge, outlawing religion of any kind broke them all.

Monkeying around. As we peddled back one day i stopped as there were 50-70 monkeys on the side of the road. I have some really great videos of them. one little guy grabbing my pack and hanging from it, what a sight and the first time i had seen a wild monkey. this mother is looking for food, aka fleas. All and all it was an amazing three days at Angkor. Look it up and book your ticket now, it will be worth every penny, if you like old stone and have an imagination. I leave for Bangkok tonight on the night bus after that... who knows i have a 20 something days before India but i might just leave early. Much love and blessings to all of you.

Please take a moment to hug the ones you love

Hi,

I hope this post reaches you all happy and healthy. I sat today, at this computer to check my emails something i  haven't been able to do in four days. I would love to talk just about Cambodia but there is something weighing heavily on my heart. The first friend i ever made in Vermont has passed away. Jared Fitzpatrick was my friend, he was a devil, a hellion, a terror at times as a kid but someone i loved. He leaves behind a loving girlfriend and a young really cute son. He was the reason i found myself in the principles office, for the first time, we were in the third grade. I was the reason he found his forehead split open, by a log, we were in the 4th grade. His mother is the only reason i passed Spanish class and is a really wonderful person. His father, a master marble sculpture, enjoyed making all things out of marble but a particular carving, one of a womans chest i often marveled at as a young kid, i will never forget it. We grew apart as people do as they get older but as a third grader, starting a brand new school as nervous as anyone could be, he took a chance, and i will be forever thankful for that Jared. Whenever we crossed paths i felt as if time had never moved, you were always the same Jared and there was something comforting in that. Your passing is noticed, is felt and is far to early. A lot of people knew you better than I and i feel for them too, i know they are hurting and mourning your passing. You had a devilish grin and a hell of a guard dog, i will remember them always. Rest now in peace my old friend.

If you read this, look around you, throw your arms out and grab the ones you love, hold them extra long, until it feels awkward and still don't let go. Tell them just how much they mean to you. Life is so fragile, take the moment, do it now, you will never regret it.