The Baku Conversation

"In Africa a man's wealth is judged by the number of his children." she said.  She was a tall beautiful woman with dancing eyes telling me how she loves to dance.  And I stood before her impoverished. "My husband only tolerated me at first. I was so foolish when I was younger.  I am the only one in my family who has married and remained married.  I know he loves me now," She says with pride and joy.  She has told me of their children as she scans markets looking for gifts.  "Here I can buy three bags for the price that one would cost me at home, so all three will have a new bag instead of just one."  We had laughed at her tale of going off to the market.  It was like a marvellous tale of a hunt for treasure in a foreign land, first the finding where it was, then the metro and buses and taxi and now the obvious joy in the success of the endeavour.
"The antarctic core sample temperatures tell the tales of cyclic climate change and the C02 rises follows rather than proceeds these changes.  We've always known about the ice ages," he said sipping coffee. His colleague laughed and said, "95% of scientists believe climate change is man made.  I can't get 10 scientists to agree on anything at the university. It's like herding cats.  The selection bias and politics make everything they say meaningless. "
The geneticist said, "They insist on evolution by begging the question with 'mutation' but there's no mutation that has added or improved the genome.  There are many mutations but all lead to death or the likes of down's syndrome.  Clever idea but without proof."
She spoke of her search for a man and frustration with her work.  There'd been promises in her youth but none had fulfilled .Now she questioned her decisions with aging.  She sees that men and children as so important in old age and is writing a book to tell of this.
"Homosexuality is a default position," he said when the physician spoke of the report out of Britain was that 1.5% were homosexual. "I remember when they said it was 10%."  Laughing I added that was the "swing vote'.  It's always been known that the incidence of gays increase when there are no women and the same with lesbians when there are no men."  "What does that say about they're saying they're born that way."  "Genetics is important especially in those who never had attraction to the other sex from childhood. They're the ones 'born' that way.  But I saw many women who having been in very abusive relationships with men, beatten raped, stolen from, have chosen to live with women instead. And men who were similarly abused, denied sex, stolen from, cheated on, betrayed, prefer the company of men."
Over coffee I shared the story of Quebec Canada's  intolerance to religion.
The UN doctor told of his difficulties with finding doctors with high ethics and skills because so many seemed jaded by the politics.  The Muslim doctor was disappointed by abortions occurring in his community.  "We have the highest birth rates and family is so important to our religion. We believe in life. We not like the atheists and secular governments who are so caught up in abortion and wanting euthanasia for the old. We value our old.  But we're seeing this same trend happen as you Christians and Catholics have seen it. Life is reduced to economics."
While cutting an apple  with a paring knife another shared:  "UN's Article 21 frightens me. They want millions killed so that only a few can enjoy their 'man made paradise'.
"So many millions and millions killed. The Chinese love to kill women most but everyone is killing and it's all like the Nazi eugenic program. "  said the elegant and refined mother of two who had earlier told the group of the changing laws in her country, all of which pointed towards death.
"It was 1850 that the second law of thermodynamics was developed, long before Darwin.  The universe is winding down.  It's devolving.  That's another word for 'evil', the imperfection in the machinery that has it wearing out and all of us growing old and dying of disease and age.  I think God's plan was perfection and that's what may be seen in afterlife." said the white bearded man.
"A species is doomed when it is thoroughly obsessed with killing it's own."   For a moment group sat in sadness and silence.
"And those most obsessed with killing always want you to be sacrificed first", she said, sharing the bag of grapes she'd brought to the group.

The Baku Metro Adventure

Some of the group gathered at our hotel to take the Metro (underground) to the Catholic Cathedral where the workshops were being held. The trip was an adventure.  In our group was a Sierra Leone, a Polish girl, French, couple of bangladesh, an Israelite , a fillipina, and couple of Canadians ( and perhaps some more people we lost but hopefully not).  At one point we did get split up following someone who looked like our fearless leader.  We retraced our steps and had a happy reunion.  The amount of faith and prayer to just get to the destination was itself remarkable.  More faith than works.
All the while I was worried about being mugged .Lots of young men in dark well fit clothing looking like Navy Seals gone rogue to my anxiety heightened mind.  I was carrying a computer and projector and constantly checking my wallet.  Meanwhile Baku is reportedly really safe with little crime and less assault. I've asked repeatedly having some flashback to Athens last year when I was mugged and everyone says, of course there are districts but overall it's 'safe'.  There are guards on the metro too just like London but I was mugged on the metro there 30 years ago.
Meanwhile Phillip has his arm in a cast and is my senior and I'm accompanied by a couple of slight women who clearly don't know how to fend off zombies with machine guns.  They were happily chatting the whole way.  They didn't seem to think that a body of humanity about them was any reason for concern.  I'd rather be in the wilderness with bears or underwater with sharks but my immediate company was rather entertaining.
The whole time we were chatting with each other , some slow English and my obvious lack of Bangladeshi limited conversation.  All the bilingual and trilingual and quadrilingual people were kind enough to speak English slowly to me because they must have figured that as I only knew one language I must be slow.  At times I felt like the beginner in an ESL class but mostly I enjoyed the diversity of culture and english coupled with a shared love of God and learning.
The psychologist and counsellors were really bright.
We passed a monument which Nancy later told us was erected after the Amernians destroyed a village killing everyone during the recent war in which Azerbaijan's disputed territory was annexed by Armenia.
It was a relied to see Angelique and finally meet Nancy the organizer who had dealt with Hannah my assistant helping me get a visa and make the travel arrangements to get here at the last minute.
She told us that Pope John Paul II had come to Baku in 2002 and met with the president. He'd given them land for a cathedral as partial recompense for the churches the communists had destroyed. That was the time too when women were having abortions routinely with some having as many as 20 or more, using abortion as a birth control without consideration of the future consequences either way.   Olive trees grew in the courtyard.

Azerbaijan Journal

I am awake in another part of the globe wondering if my position in space changed as it is affects the matrix of my mind.  Ultimately all is one and I am an inter relational being interconnected by laws of physics and spirituality.  Yet here I am exposing myself to a different geo-orbital space and wondering if this will in some way affect me at a cellular level.
Obviously everything affects one at the psychological level. Even now, awake since 5:30 I'm hearing the moslem call to prayer outside my hotel in the still dark streets. Were I hunting in northern BC I'd not be able to shoot bucks as there is just a sliver of light but not sufficient to identify whether the animal has horns or not. This early morning has often been a time for prayer and meditation for me but then it became a time for a while to prepare for surgery. Today it's more often associated with wilderness and sailing.  The end of the night watch is a favourite time at sea.  I love the dawn.
Now a new day begins. Will I walk closer with you God? Will you waken my eyes, and ears, and smell to your presence? Will you kick me out of the reductionist materialistic cowardly way of seeing things within the limits of my own conception. Stretch me and awaken me to all that is sacred.  Lift me out of the abyss of my anxious self and hold me closer to you.  Here in this foreign place let me awaken to what is ever real and near.
I imagined that this was the land of Ghengis Khan.  I don't know if Alexander came here.  There were likely chariots at some time.  Surely in this old city the rich did the advanced artisan activities of their age, making tents,  carving, pottery, like our computer geeks gather today in some equivalency.
The site of the Garden of Eden is not far.  Mount Ararat nearby.  Pilgrims walked this way.  Always there was fishing and boats. I love port cities.  I loved being in Anthens and looking out on the ancient harbour there.  I wish I had a boat to ply these waters and sail a ways across this bay.  Once there were pirates and armies and traders.
Missionaries have come and gone.  There were always lovers. Families have raised children.  Governments have ruled. Mostly people did what had to be done to survive.  But always someone asked of God.
Intellectuals and saints and smart women were burned or speared.  Some ruled.  It's ever been confusing.
And here I am reminded of being in countless other walled cities, hoping one day to see the Great Wall of China.  The Romans had a similar wall for my northern Scottish forebears.  We were once the outsiders.  Always the insider outsider switches are being made like the cycles of the planets arctic cores of hot and cold times.  Slow heatings followed by dramatic rapid drops in temperature.
There is consciousness.  But all that Descartes could be certain of was "Cogito ergo sum" .  What ever else we know is speculation. The ones who insist most heartily can not know for even gravity is deeply unknown while fractures surely amaze the mathematician in each of us.
The atheists here have killed millions.  That was the living but abortions have been something terrible as well. Women who have aborted dozens of times speak of numbness. A devolution must occur as with killers.  Their hearts are hardened.
When a heart is hardened it is like the blind. Only the harshest realities are perceived.  No shades or pastels can be perceived.  There is no sensation on scarring.  The losses are unfathomable.
But all is manure.  A new generation will surely build on this death culture of today.  Just as tribe after tribe slaughtered those in the old city making the city theres till another tribe took it over so our own people, this global race is being replaced by a younger generation.
I don't know if they'll be able to say they has as much fun as us baby boomers.  There music is grim at best and there are some admidst the zombies who will find shelter.  We who had so much promise staggered back from that one small step on the moon to eat our own and soil our nests lacking belief in our own immortality as a galaxy travelling race.
In the place of stars we have the evil of Article 21.  Why explore the universe when we can kill our own and take what remains.
Forget Joe Dimaggio. Where are you Christopher Columbus.  But Buckminister Fuller has come and gone and now there is grapheme and Moore's Law and always there is hope.
There is love. And there is hope.  Thank you Christ Jesus.

Old City, Baku, Azerbaijan

This morning we met with other members of the conference.  Opah, a missionary from the Phillipines and Bridgette a missionary from Sierra Leone joined us for breakfast. Later a Turkish Teacher living in Germany but now exploring her ethnic routes in Azerbaijan joined us.  Phillip was in good form as usual telling tales of his work at the University of Hong Kong and sailing stories in the Atlantic, Caribean and Pacific Oceans.  The hotel had a fine breakfast reminiscent of those I had at Best Western motorcycling across the US this summer. The views views of the old city and harbour from the this red decorred restaurant were splendid.  The company was what mattered though.  Each person sharing of travel experience.
We learned much of Baku. The flag in the harbour seen from our window was  apparently the largest in the world reported in the Guinness Book of Records. The Caspian Sea is much like a huge lake with no opening to the sea and seriously polluted in the city harbour. A little further north people go swimming without concern though.  The famous three Flame Towers I'd seen lit up at night, were still impressive , not lit up but juxtaposed clearly in the day against the old city.  Much of the development of the city is in anticipation of the upcoming European Winter Games. Further there's a desire politically to make Baku a city like Duban to attract tourism and serve the developing mining and petroleum industries.  This is all going on while some of the oldest Christian groups are found in the area as well as some of the oldest evidences of civilization at all.
"We learn most about a place from the foreigners visiting it, " said Phillip who went on to tell me he'd wanted to take me to the Garden of Eden.
"But I told him it's now in Iran rather than Azerbaijin", said Opah.
"Mount Ararat is near here too" said Phillip who answered the Turkish teacher's question of the significance of that.
"It's why this hotel is named Noah's Ark because Mount Ararat was thought to be where Noah's Ark landed".
After breakfast we all met outside downstairs where we were joined by academics from Bangladesh .
We were joined by a lovely Dutch lady working here who drove us to the Baku International Church, an evangelical english speaking church, where we joined in worship.  As Phillip said it was like we could be walking into any evangelical service in the world, the songs and service being individual but similar.  I felt right at home and enjoyed the discussion of Jerimiah and especially the lead singer in the service.  After we talked with a professor who told us that as Azerbaijan was principally a muslim country there was no advertising and no evangelizing.  As the Russians had once controlled the country the influence of the KGB was still present with everyone being cautious about not breaking the law. That said, there was an equal pressure to modernize and join the world at large especially with such moves as having the Winter Olympics. Several of the other members we met were American who worked in the petroleum industry. Because the English speaking community was transient to some degree the church had maintained a relatively similar size, robust and growing but limited in growth.
Opah went off with her Fillipina friends after church to eat Fillipino food.  I told her I really thought they were going off to sing Karaoke and they all laughed, karaoke, being a favoured Fillipino past time.  I told them my assistant had channelled the 'genetic impulse' to karaoke in the Fillipino by being the music director of her church but I wasn't sure that alone would protect her from her roots.  Bridgette went off to explore the old city while Phillip and I had a traditional lamb kebab meal in an Old City cafe.
Soon we'll be meeting with a local psychiatrist and family physician before going out for dinner this evening.  I've a talk to give tomorrow and while I have the slides I don't have them arranged yet.  Maybe a midnight activity since I'm more interested in recording the events of this day here while Phillip has a nap.

Noah's Ark Hotel, Baku, Azerbaijan

I've arrived.  What a beautiful city.  Fuad met me at the airport after I'd cleared customs.
A couple of little boys who'd travelled from London or beyond were very tired and irritable. They let their very loving parents know with loud crying and screaming.  The rest of us waiting in lines thought the parents absolutely loving as they didn't flint a fire right there in the airport and cannibalize those sweet little over tired boys. I hadn't even known any children were on the long flight but being woken up in a different country seemed not their cup of tea.  I suspect there is a reason I have a dog who himself can be a handful at times.
Fuad is with British Petroleum and obviously loves his most loveable city.  I'd sat next to an elegant young Azerbaijan woman returning from a business conference. When I told her it was my first time to Baku, she immediately said, "You'll love it."
Driving through the city in Fuad's Toyota I was impressed by the wide boulevards and the exquisite designs of new architectural wonders. There's a Trump Tower and it's really outstaning shaped in an elongated letter 'D".  Some curving sprawling wonder of modern design was right in the centre of the city.  Fuad loved the Flame Towers, three of them and pointed them out to me.  All these ultramodern masterpieces are juxtaposed with what seemed to me 17th and 18th century French influenced old buildings that are common in Europe.
This hotel is in the Old City.  It's definitely from Medieval times with the surrounding wall.  Excellent service at the 3 star hotel saying it provides 5 star service. And it does.
Now I just have to meet up with my colleagues and tomorrow begin the conference. I've a couple of workshops to do and have a public presentation I actually completed preparation for on the plane.  All that's needed is the arranging of the slides and a dynamic intelligent young and handsome star to give it.  Despite having given so many presentations over the years I'm forever anxious about them. I know it will go well.
It's not like playing Leonard Cohen songs in the country bar in Portage la Prairie where they threw beer cans at me.
  It was raining here and the weather seems very similar to what I left in Vancouver.

Late for the plane after being hijacked by Richmond

I don't know why I'm late.  I'm often late. It's not because of self importance or disregard for others. It's like nail biting. A bad habit and worsened with anxiety.   I know I begin to be late more often when I'm stressed and anxious.
I certainly don't want to be late.
I packed the night before as I always do.  I was up 3 hours early.  Maybe it should have been 3  hour and a half.  The rule is to arrive two hours for an international flight, one hour for a domestic flight.  That's always been the gauge.
I just had difficulty getting away.  Instead of showering and dressing and being out the door in a half hour as I normally could I was double checking everything, worried for my home.  Then it was 6 as I was leaving for the half hour drive to the airport.  i guess I didn't factor in the 10 minutes for parking. I know I didn't factor in stopping for gas but was nearly on empty and worried I'd not have gas when I drove home.  Then I got lost in Richmond.
I hate trying to get to the airport through Richmond.  It's a Bermuda Triangle. If I didn't have my iPhone gps I'd be there for weeks or maybe years.  I suspect most of the people who live their gave up trying to find their way out.
I just sometimes end up on the wrong bridge and land in Richmond. One bridge leads to the airport and heaven while the other leads to the purgatory of Richmond.  I know I should know by now. I've done this airport drive dozens of times and yet every now and then I find myself in Richmond. Once I'm  on the #3 road there are no signs. I  knowing that every years thousands of others make this same mistake. I suspect the various stores refuse to put up signs as a means of trapping tourists in Richmond. They're like those folks who purposely ship wrecked sailors by lighting lamps to mimic lighthouse.  It's terrifying.  And I live here.  The harrowing experiences of tourists is beyond consideration.
No one speaks English in Richmond either.  I've stopped people in the past, before I had the gps. and repeatedly asked them in English or French where I was and they didn't speak either official Canadian language.  Strange bizarre people Very peculiar Canadians.
Aliens live in Richmond.  When I saw Men in Black it all came clear. Probably they landed their space ships in Richmond and got lost and have lived there since.
The kind parking bus driver dropped me at the International Gates when I told him I was going on Air Canada to Azerbaijan.  He helped me with my luggage.  I then hoofed it up to the Air Canada International line waiting for families ahead of me to go to the desk only to be told I had to go to domestic since I was stopping over in Toronto first.
The Vancouver Airport isn't a small place.  After hiking for several days carrying luggage and passing bones of men and skeletons of whales and various frightening Indian totems along the way,  I eventually got to an even longer line. I tried to use the check in machine but it wouldn't accept Azerbaijan as a destination at first and when it finally did,  wanted me to put the diploma size visa of that country in a little envelope size hole for scanning.  I told the pretty Air Canada hostess that I was late for a flight to Azerbaijan. I knew I was late by then. I wasn't looking at my watch having no time for non essentials.  But she directed me to  the long line and I waited and waited.
I began to hate the old and the young and invalid in that line.  They seemed to lack focus.
When I finally gave my ticket to the very attractive middle aged Chinese Air Canada lady hostess, she told me, "You're too late.  If you didn't have luggage I could put you on but they've stopped taking luggage."
"I said, "I normally travel with only a carry on but my colleague wanted me to bring him books. I'm the speaker at an international conference."
""You shouldn't be late."  She scolded me.  She actually scolded me. I'd not been scolded for several marriages. A distant ex was a scolding feminist whereas I definitely was scolded by church ladies in Sunday school when I was very young.  But I'm 'elderly' by some ridiculous definition of the agist young.  I became filled with guilt and apologetic.
""I went to the International departures".
""That's only a ten minute walk"
"I waited in line," I said
"But you're going to Toronto first. You should know it's not an international departure."
And then I bristled.  I thought of all the things that patients don't know and how daily we're sued or complained against as doctors because people don't know.  Here I was a older man, more than 10 years her senior, no doubt, and she was scolding me. She was even implying I was a liar.  I take truth very seriously, indeed more so than some in the courts today.  More so than journalists, and pot smoking, crack using politicians.  More so than presidents who apparently don't know what sex relations are but are supposed to be trusted with nuclear weapons.  
I was calmly responding as an adult but feeling back in grade school with the bullying female teachers.  I remember the one that stripped me naked in class and spanked my bare bum in front of all the boys and girls I played with. It was so humiliating.  Now years later I resisted feeling humiliated.
Her voice was challenging, the tone was even belligerent. She was flushed looking at me.
I knew then that I could say something and she could hurt me now or help me.  So much of my life had been my saying the wrong thing, being drawn into the traps of the petty bureaucrats and all those who seek positions of authority to wield power they lack themselves alone.  All the cowards in the world.  I've fought them all my life.  I've bull dozed through them. I've bowled them over like ten pin bowling pegs. I've championed the underdog.
But now I just wanted to get to Azerbaijan.  A friend had asked me to come. I thought of him and those who wanted to hear my contribution. I thought of all the work that people had gone to this last week to get me a visa  in time to attend.  I thought of my poor assistant moving patients and getting research notes and caring for my little dog.  I thought of all the important things.
She was staring at me, waiting.  I silently prayed and held my savage tongue.
"Can you help me? "  I asked sadly, "I know what the problem is but is there a solution?"
Then she looked in her computer.  She began scanning screens and typing furiously.
The flush went out of her cheeks. The hackles settled.  I didn't know what her day was like. She may have had news that her mother was sick or her boyfriend was having an affair. Because I'd not met fire with fire a wholly different outcome transpired.
She was obviously intelligent, accomplished and effective.  She was positively caring.
"I can route you on a jet leaving for Toronto in an hour. It's arriving a half hour late so there will be time.  That will also allow you to make your connection to Heathrow in Toronto."
With that she tagged my luggage.  I gave it to the luggage attendant.  It wasn't just the books. I was bringing a projector on this trip and was carrying that , my computer and camera  so needed another bag to carry shirts and socks and such.  There was lots of room for the books. I'd also rather liked the idea of taking the books because it ensured I had space in my luggage for the return haul.  I've often had to buy another bag or struggled with purchases I have no room in my luggage for on return.  I like buying gifts to share with friends.  I always bring a toy back for Gilbert. So the books were welcome. I felt just a little guilty about the 'knee jerk defensive excuses'.  Really I'm not a 'bad' boy, it's fate.
I didn't want to tell her about Richmond either.
One never knows who might be one of them.  The people who live in Richmond and don't think it's "unusual".  I think the movie "Invasion of the Bodysnatchers' was made after a writer or movie producer got trapped there years back.
Thanks to her, my prayer, my late found maturity,  I'm now in Heathrow.  I'm noticing too that I'm becoming more peculiar myself with aging.
I found myself wondering if it was  possible she had a part time job as  a dominatrix and there was some blurring of boundaries between her two occupations.   A lot of men pay big money to have attractive women  scold them at my age. Some even liked to be spanked. For all I know she could have just looked at me and felt charitable.
Air Canada rocks and as usual I love their service. Against all odds I'm here in London and the flight here was truly a joy. Now on to Baku, Azerbaijin!

Heathrow Airport

I'm here again.  Oddly I don't remember flying into Heathrow my first visit in the early 70's accompanied by my first wife, Baiba.  It was such an adventure.  I remember London, then Amsterdam, bicycling across Europe, travelling by VW bug through Spain with our bicycles on the car roof top.  Taking the ferry to Morrocco, bussing and walking in the old cities. That was memorable.  lndeed lots of images and memories remain from that epic year of youth.  It's the return trip that sticks in my mind.  We had too much clothing and wore 6 layers in addition to what we could pack in our luggage.  I was a michilen man but very fashionable.  I'd travel back from India with a sitar on my lap and coming back from the southern US I'd be wearing a great sombrero.  All good times with lots of adventure.

And here I am again in Heathrow. I came through here going to Italy and returning from Greece these last couple of years.  Loved showing Laura about the city the days we were here.  I love the Piccadilly Circus and Westminister Abbey.  I'm ever amazed by the spirit of the English people with their world wide navy then their Battle of Britain.  Extraordinary people.  

Doesn't stop me, with my Scottish genes, from wanting to go after the likes of John Cleese in my aim to start a law suit on behalf of Scots the world over, but especially us in Canada. I'm calling my movement COMPENSATION FOR CULLODEN.  I want money personally from the crown for the dastardly way the British treated the Scots at Culloden.  I'm not going to accept any dead parrots from John Cleese either!

It's only an hour or so before my connecting flight with British Airways to Azerbaijin.   I used the flight to load my presentations onto Keynote the Mac equivalent of Powerpoint. It's been a sharp learning curve.  

I've been up all night.  This flight began in Vancouver yesterday.  I'll arrive at my destination this evening. 22 hours travel time. I could use a shower already.  It's reminiscent of youth, this sleeping in one's clothing.  

I'm enjoying my Eagle Creek carry on luggage.  My globe trotting friend Moon told me she'd asked the Lonely Planet writer, can't remember which countries he covered, but he'd told her he used Eagle Creek.  I like the separation of front with back straps from the base with wheels.  I can stowe the base in the overhead and keep the knapsack portion under the seat.

I love London.  I enjoyed checking out the Harrods shop in the airport. I'll be coming through on the way back so resisted the buying something now.  I so loved shopping in Harrods when I lived here as a young man.  I'm titillated like a true colonial by shopping in a store the Queen has shopped in.  There's that love of the Royals instilled as a child. Now Margaret Atwood and Kim Campbell want to change the Anthem. Troudeau changed the flag.  Traditions are under attack everywhere. Last time I was here there was an uproar about dogs shitting on the commons.  I remember so much when I lived here the English love of dogs.  The Queen's corgis have always been a joy.

I've just had a breakfast sandwich heated up in this little Costa coffeeshop where I'm being fortified by a stiff  Americano. It's important to stay hydrated flying.  Well must be off. Tally ho!