I
received the following are e-mails from Paul as he travelled back from
Spain to Australia via Borneo, Thailand and Malaysia.
From:
"Paul Vincent"
Date: Sat, 06 Nov
1999 08:22:23 -0800
Have
you tried Snakefruit ? Looks like snake on the outside,
looks
like garlic on the inside, but tastes......well,
indescribable
but just imagine your 4 or 5 favourite fruits, and
add
the tastes and multiply it......mouthgasm.
Greeted
by monkeys, beautiful coloured dragonflies, and a large
brown
beetle as I wandered into the jungle for the first time.
A
day solo wandering through the most vibrantly juicy and alive
place
Ive ever experienced, watching a snake devouring a
squirrel,
thick carpets of ants across my path, insects at times
deafeningly
shrill, monkeys swinging through the bushes, and the
trees
and moss and dark spaces filled with green everywhere,
with
flying flashes of vivid blue and red and yellow, and huge
leaves
and towering plants, and dense like a Henri Rousseau
painting
come to life. And after 2 hours emerging from the
lushness
onto a white beach....
Here
in Kota Kinabalu, the people smile with their eyes.
Love
Pavi
Date: Mon, 08 Nov
1999 03:36:01 -0800
There's
a cave in deepest jungliest leech-infested sweltering
central
Borneo that is 51km long. Yes, 51km. And another
conservatively
estimated to be bigger than 16 football fields,
biggest
in the world. Of course I can't resist the idea, so
tomorrow
I'll be looking to find a way to Mulu.
Today,
atop Mt Kinabalu, another crescendo experience. "Is this
actually
happening??". A gruelling 2 day climb up 9km of steep
lush
covered slopes, forests of moss and orchids, misty
mysterious
jungle and then through the clouds and sheer rock
faces
to towering wartlike pinnacles of rock - the top of
Borneo.
Clouds forming dragonlike swirls and gullies dropping
into
darkness below.
With
knees of jelly I sit here, feeling blessed and exhilarated,
and
amazed at the beauty of this planet.
From
the tallest point to the deepest, I'm heading underground.
Love,
always.
Infinity
= One
Date: Mon, 15 Nov
1999 08:15:07 -0800
Blissful
days in Mulu......
Massive
caverns and caves, awe-inspiringly, unbelievably big.
And
awe-inspiringly, unbelievably beautiful. Sounds of water
drops
echoing in sensurround.
Walking
in a warm tropical rainstorm through the lush rainforest
-
yeah, leeches and all that, but it's all part of the fun.
6am
swims in crystal clear waters.
Cooking
over a fire again.
The
sun rising through morning mist over the jungle river.
Photographing
jungle spirits in the trees, while boating down
the
river, myriad reflections in blue green yellow violet.
Dragonflies
in neon crimson and blue and green.
Watching
fireflies at night, listening to the jungle sounds.
Beautiful
gentle tribal people, sharing their stories.
Sitting
for hours watching the river, listening to a most
incredible
talking bird, which sneezed, coughed, laughed like an
old
woman, and spoke like a young girl.
Climbing
up cliffs and through tangled moss forest to the
limestone
towers of the Pinnacles.
Mountains
disappearing into the massive white cumulus clouds
sweeping
down from brilliant blue skies.
Intense
thunder and more rain. The river changes again.
In
a word, magic.
Back
in Kota Kinabalu for a few hours, and on to Thailand.......
Love
always,
P
Subject: Trip 5
Date: Fri, 19 Nov
1999 23:34:25 -0800
Sitting
for a day in Little India, Penang........endless Roti
and
daal and conversations with Indians, and watching the
cartoon
of charcters passing by - a taste of another potential
journey.
Now
here on a Thai beach, I feel I've entered another world.
Far
from the tranquil jungles of Borneo, I find a brilliant
sunshine
haze of monsoon windy palm trees and coconuts filled
with
delicious juice and incredible food and peace of a
different
kind, amongst what seems to be a superhighway of young
Brits
and Australians and Kiwis here for beaches and full moon
parties
and.......
In
a way I feel nostalgic already for the womb of the jungle.
Yet
here has its distinct kind of edge, and to drive through the
palm
forests and see the fronds gently swaying against a pale
grey
sky and feel the warm breeze against my skin is certainly a
pleasure.
There
are some wonderful fallen palm fronds lying near the beach
with
which to build fantastic spider sculptures.....
Love
always,
Pavi
Subject: Trip 6
Date: Tue, 23 Nov
1999 22:24:34 -0800
Well,
a relief to have escaped from South Thailand ! With each
of
3 passing days, the energy shifted from peace to chaos with
the
influx of hundreds of a different kind of traveller : "Yeah,
man,
full moon, man, yeah, it'll be great, man, party and get
fucked
on diet pills, yeah, man......". Enough said.
A
hasty escape, and a lovely drive overnight by the light of the
full
moon to Bangkok, landing in the hazy glow of 5am in central
Khao
San, and sitting roadside at a 24 hour cafe, surrounded by
the
detritus of the night pushing themselves just a little bit
further,
sliding towards dawn. Images from a Tom Waits ballad,
seedy,
everyone with a story. Flotsam-and-jetsam - drunk
Westeners,
men only a whore could want. Green glowing neon
reflected
off facades and fading against an indigo sky gradually
turning
blue.
A
day spent meeting local Thais in side-streets and shopping for
cheap
everything, before boarding a night bus to Chiang Mai.
Here
I sit, brilliant sunshine, and a Thai cooking course
tomorrow.....
Much
love.
Subject: Trip 7
Date: Sat, 04 Dec
1999 20:18:44 -0800
Bambooed
in Northern Thailand.
Lush
and magical. A forest of giant spiders and snakes.
A
wilderness lodge without electricity - nights by a fire with
infinite
skies and shooting stars, eating by candlelight,
sleeping
outdoors, connecting with land and life and universe.
Getting
lost in the thick bamboo.
Every
bend of the river another world.
Sensing
the mist rolling in slowly, faintly liquid, each dark
night.
Fruit
from the surrounding trees, fresh, succulent, with which
to
watch the morning sun dissipate the mist, and the valley
slowly
change with the rising light.
A
few others, those who made the journey.
Space
to understand each other.
Bambooed,
thoroughly.
Subject: Trip8
Date: Sat, 18 Dec
1999 06:40:21 -0800
The
dreamlike quality of past events catches me every time -
here
in Brisbane, with Malaysia and Thailand nothing but an
illusion
- all those lives whose path I crossed, the places I
sat
and the moments witnessed. The little things: the market
aromas,
the fires in the Chiang Mai sky, the glitter of sunlight
reflected
from temples, and that delicious Roti Canai and
coffee
with sweetmilk on the final chilled-out night back in
Penang................
So
back in Australia, I sit in the 1am calm of a little room at
the
home of Laura and David (family), the others asleep in rooms
around
and above me, parents, sister, and the 2 little ones
whose
lives didn't exist when I was last here. Lovely to spend
time
with them all - chatting, playing, shopping, chilling, with
no
other agenda at all. The future full of options, the past
illusion,
and the present the only important thing.
I
imagine Madrid, London, Melbourne, all the souls in all the
places
I know, and I smile with fond warmth knowing that it all
continues
and they are there, right now, in this very moment.
That
means you, reading these words - making the connection NOW
!
Love
always
Pavinder
Pavioli
Infinity
= One
Subject: An
hour at the ghat
Date: Sun,
26 Mar 2000 17:33:08 EST
Down
at the ghat, the tourists gather to watch.
The
families of the dead. The burning.
Goats.
Sleeping, wandering, smelling the scraps for possible food.
Boats
offshore. More tourists.
Buffaloes
stand, pace, shit.
Old
woman collects shit, sits on the steps and kneads it, as one would bread
dough. Meticulous. Slaps it in pointillist patterns on the
wall to dry in tomorrow morning's sun.
The
children, 4 or 5 years, run to tourists and offer postcards, or ask for
money.
Hash
dealers scout for smokers.
A
black and white TV, screams, drama, violence. Loud.
Men
bathe in the river, amid flowers, bones, ashes, food scraps.
Bodies
arrive, cloaked in golden fabrics, yellow garlands.
Tourists
in the boats get closer, smile, chat among themselves.
Men
in loincloths pile earth into baskets, dump it on shore.
Smell
of spices and food, shit, piss, charred flesh, incense, merging into a
weird aromatic cocktail.
White
skullbone gleams through the orange flames. Once seen, some tourists
turn their attention elsewhere, or leave, or start talking.
The
golden sands on the opposite shore glow more orange, the green of distant
trees richer and warmer, birds sing louder as the sun sets.
Eldest
son now squats closer to the fire, in white loincloth, shawl, and with
shaved head, looks deeply into the flames.
A
flip-flop floats by.
A
young man spits a vile orange-brown liquid onto the step in front of him,
then holds his nose and blows snot on top.
A
bell tolls in the temple.
Pink
cow.
Etc.
