Anand Krishna: Lessons from Bali

ANAND KRISHNA: NO RUN-OF-THE-MILL SPIRITUAL GURU

Features - August 29, 2006
The Jakarta Post

Michele Lee, Contributor, Bali

TO SIT in the cool tranquil space of the new Anand Krishna center in Bali with the man himself is to be in the company of one of the most renowned spiritual leaders in Indonesia.

His talk the night before had been inspirational so The Jakarta Post took the opportunity to meet him to explore further his beliefs about love, religion and peace.

His Indian accent was undeniable, yet he was born and raised in Surakarta, Indonesia.

Jakarta Post: You said last night in your talk that love is the only solution. Why is it the only solution?

Anand Krishna: I would say that love is the deepest emotion in human beings. It is the deepest part of our inner selves. When the solution is deep enough, then the result is also quite long-term.

It's just like when you have a tree. If the roots grow deep into the earth, then you will have a big tree. So this is the same thing, we should have a solution that is deep within our being and then we can expect a result which is long term.

That's a beautiful metaphor. You also said that when we practice consciousness, this is love. Do you have any suggestions as to how we can become more conscious in our lives?

In Bali, especially, they have a beautiful tradition of dedicating oneself to the environment, to another human being and to God.

I would say that the generic word for God is love. When you do that you are being conscious. You are being conscious of your environment and you are being conscious of anything that you do.

How you sit. How you behave. How you converse with people and interact with them. Consciousness is not something that you can achieve from an hour of meditation every day; it's a full-time job.

It's how you practice meditation in your daily life - from moment to moment. And consciousness also means that it is important to let go of a part of your body in order to save the rest of your body.

So, to let go of part of your body as you say, is a form of sacrifice. So you do feel that there must be some sacrifices made?

I think so. We are sacrificing every minute, every moment actually. We are sacrificing certain things which we feel have lesser value. If you have a better vision, then you let go of the smaller vision of the vision that you no longer have anything to do with now. So actually we are sacrificing every moment.

It was quite enjoyable to hear your views on Gandhi. You said last night that you didn't agree with his methods of fasting because that was a form of hurting himself and love is not about hurting yourself. What do you think, then, is a better way to achieve peace?

Bring about awareness. This is why I started admiring Martin Luther King recently. He was so inspired by Gandhi but he didn't use Gandhi's methods. He would go into the street and make his point clear; he would let himself be imprisoned, but he wouldn't fight back or retaliate.

This is the way, I think. You make your point clear and you think about awareness and you make people aware of the cause you are fighting for. This is exactly what I'm trying to do ... trying to put these two great people together - Gandhi and Martin Luther King.

This is what is needed in Indonesia to bring about awareness that we are a great nation. Once upon a time we used to export spices to Madagascar and Africa. We used our own ships.

So where is that greatness? That greatness is still there within us. Why do we have to adopt something that is not suitable for us?

What I see in Indonesia is that one part of Indonesia is adapting to the Western way of life, which is quite good; I don't have any problem with this, but the whole culture from the West may not be suitable for this country.

The other part of Indonesia is adapting to the Arabic way of life and this is going to create two societies within one. That's not good because we will bring the fights, the battles and the wars to our side - to our country.

Your views on religion are very interesting. As you said, we all have many different religions, such as Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, etc, but you feel that we can all come together, because even though we may all have different methods of worshiping God, there is still that one God and one truth that we are all trying to realize.

How can we overcome our prejudices about religion and become more open and less narrow-minded about the whole concept of what God is?

That's why I like to use the word love, because when you speak of love you talk about love. You can even accept the ideas of those who don't believe in God.

There was a Sufi who met someone who said, "I don't believe in God." The Sufi asked him, "Do you believe in yourself?" The man said, "Yes, I do."

As long as you believe in something - that something can be God, love, or self. In the Indian tradition God is your higher self - so I think we have to create this awareness about love.

There are many people who may think to themselves, "I have nothing to do with God." But all of us have got something to do with love.

So the state of creating a dialog between religions, what has been done especially by Christians and Muslims for the last 2,000 years, has been going on for centuries, yet we are heading nowhere because they are talking about God, yet God is not appearing before us.

When a Christian loves a Muslim or a Buddhist loves a Hindu or a Hindu loves a Muslim and if they are really deeply in love - just two human beings, then they forget about all these barriers.

Instead of talking about God - this is wrong I think - let's talk about love.

Once you talk about love and you develop that feeling of oneness with each other then God is present; then you will have no problems at all.


[recommended by Olivia de Haulleville]

KEMBALI KE BALI (Part Four)

Views from Bukit Jambul, en route to Besakih where the Mother Temple is located.

Bali's biggest temple at Besakih was acrawl with pilgrims when I arrived,
so I chatted with a couple of luminously beautiful vendors and rode off into the sunset.

I GOT AS FAR AS the side entrance to Tirta Empul hotsprings but decided to give it a miss. Too many day-trippers there, it felt like Batu Caves. I figured, the hot springs may be “holy” but, heck, all springs are – and I don’t like humans building a fence (and bureaucracy) around them and charging admission for Nature’s gift of healing.

Fifteen minutes later I was feeling exhilarated as the road’s gradient subtly began to increase and I knew I was heading into the highlands. Guess my lungs have acquired a taste for crisp mountain air from fifteen years of living at the foot of the Titiwangsa Range. Stopped to buy half a kilo of heavenly marquisas (“the famous Indonesian passion fruit”) and snapped this portrait of a fresh-faced highland girl (I was charmed by the way the fruits were displayed in elegant pyramids).

Village girl at fruit stall 20 minutes from Gunung Batur

As my 5-day tour of Bali progressed I became acutely aware of the fractal nature of reality. My handy desktop dictionary puts it this way: “Fractals are useful in modeling structures (such as eroded coastlines or snowflakes) in which similar patterns recur at progressively smaller scales, and in describing partly random or chaotic phenomena such as crystal growth, fluid turbulence, and galaxy formation.” The key phrase in this instance is “similar patterns.” The holographic architecture of Creation is fractal, and this is hinted at in the Hermetic notion of “as above, so below” (more accurately rendered as “as within, so without”) which suggests that Nature works through repetitive geometric patterns, on micro as well as macro levels.

The volcanic Gunung Batur, reminiscent of Mount Doom in Mordor, its western slope still black, barren and baking hot, while its eastern slope facing Batur Lake is starting to green out beautifully.



Just as you will meet Wayans, Mades, Nyomans, and Ketuts in every family wherever you go in Bali, the same rule applies to cultural forms and human behavior. Put another way: one fruit stall (like a fresh-faced, smiling village girl) is pretty much the same as another, with minor variations that allow for a degree of diversity – yet, in essence, it is a repeat pattern of a particular motif which generates a dynamic interplay between uniqueness and universality.

The fractal principle holds true whether in the case of homestays, bakso stands, pirate DVD outlets, surfer beaches, winding mountain roads, dusty and noisy urban streets, night markets, or busloads of daytrippers. However, on an island the size of Bali, the micro- and macrocosmic dance is clearly visible – just as it’s easier to understand the behavior of a small group of individuals rather than that of a mass of faceless statistics.

When one begins to notice the fractal forms at the core of all structures, whether man-made or natural, the effect is somewhat psychotropic. Sensory impressions begin to interlock like pieces of an immense, multi-dimensional jigsaw and the concept of morphogenetic fields suddenly becomes a vivid reality.

You could say the web of life that has been there all the while spontaneously comes into sharp focus, and it seems totally incredible that you never noticed it before. Indeed, this sort of epiphany is akin to the enhanced perception triggered by consciousness-altering substances like psilocybin or lysergic acid diethylamide.

In Bali, the boundary between the secular and the spiritual is blurry to the extreme. Science can be found living happily next door to mysticism. Indeed, I know of no other place where simplicity and sophistication get along so well.

The friendliness and warmth of people you encounter wherever you go is offset - and complemented - by the savvy and sophistication of the Balinese mind.

A pair of mammoths guard the 372 steps leading to the royal pura of Gunung Kawi

By corraling the hedonistic budget tourists in the Kuta-Legian area near the airport, the Balinese have successfully found a way to capture a staggering amount of foreign revenue without getting overly contaminated by it.

The entire world is drawn to the ultimate theme park that is Bali – and the locals who work in tourism have swiftly learnt how to keep the vacationers coming back year after year and bringing along more friends.

In Bali you don’t get the sense of pseudo-morality and fuddy-duddy judgmentalism that puts a damper on folks having fun any way they want – young Aussies who blow their wad going from beach to beach in quest of the ultimate wave, consuming beer by the crate in the process, are as welcome as earnest ethnomusicologists, culture vultures, or the rich and retired. Wherever I stopped for coffee or a bakso fix, some old chap would question why I was traveling solo instead of with a nice chewet (Balinese for "girl"; boys are called chowok). "Don't be putting ideas in my head," I'd quip and this would generate a fair bit of mirth and merriment. How refreshingly unprudish the Balinese are!


You feel welcome in Bali, regardless of your holiday budget. And the range of options is vast – you can spend anything from 30,000 to 3,000,000 rupiahs on a night’s accommodation. Chances are you’ll have a great time either way.

How did the Balinese accomplish this extraordinary feat of embracing modernity with a broad grin while retaining traditions that sustain social cohesiveness? Perhaps a significant clue can be found in the nature and personality of their prime deity, an emanation of Shiva-Natarajah they call Tintya, usually portrayed as an agile and elvish figure – sometimes painted with energy bolts shooting from every joint, often supported on a spinning chakra (disc or wheel), but invariably dancing the cosmic dance of primordial energy.

Studying images of Tintya through modern eyes, one might be tempted to speculate that the supreme deity of the Balinese was modeled after a visiting ET!

Consider the descriptive names the Balinese have for Tintya: he’s also known as Sangyang Widi (The Wise One), Sangyang Licin (The Elusive One), and Sangyang Tunggal (The Absolute One). Interestingly, Tintya represents the Supreme Embodiment and Manifestation of Life Itself in its unfathomable entirety and infinite diversity. Tintya is revered in Bali above the trinity of the exoteric Hindu pantheon, viz., Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva.

Exploring the outskirts of Ubud on my motorbike, I stopped by another sacred fig tree and entered the small pura beside it. The stone walls and floor of the pura were green with ancient slime and the place looked fairly unvisited. Then I spotted an incongruously modern steel ladder bolted to the central candi (or shrine). Ascending the ladder between a pair of guardian dragons carved in stone, I came face to face with a Tintya icon, freshly gilded and radiant in the bright sunshine.

This was truly an unexpected epiphany which triggered a flood of long-buried genetic memories, too complex and mysterious to elaborate upon in a blogpost. Someday I may find a way to express these antediluvian flashbacks in words. But for now, suffice to say that I remembered the origins of the gods and the beginnings of religious indoctrination on this exquisite (and soon, soon to be liberated) holographic planet.

Terima kasih, Bali. I thank you with all my heart for staying true to yourself.

Text & photos © Antares

BACK TO PART ONE

KEMBALI KE BALI (Part Three)

Inspiring view from a fancy resort about 20 minutes from Ubud. Lodgings range from USD175-400 a night. I paid 50,000 rupiah (about RM18) at Dewi Antara Homestay (no great views but it had a hot and cold shower and I slept extremely well).

THE BALINESE are apparently governed by a strong sense of cosmic order, devolving from the adoration of monarchs who were once worshiped as deities in human form. Their belief in the Law of Karma seems to fortify them against hubristic notions of upward mobility; in Bali you can be a rich tourist without paranoid expectations that the poor folk catering to your whims are just waiting for their chance to rip you off, pick your pocket or mug you in a dark alley.

70% of the craftsmen and business operators in Bali originate from Java.
This young man spends his days patiently pointillizing wooden turtles.

I was never, for an instant, nervous about anyone pinching my bag or making off with my rented bike. Even the few beggars I encountered in Ubud weren’t at all pushy, and were happy to accept a 500-rupiah (less than 20 sen) donation.



My second visit to Bali confirmed beyond any doubt that Ubud – and its verdant environs of well-tended paddies – is where I could easily establish a home away from home. One can “kontrak” or rent a cozy house set amidst the most inspiring landscapes for between RM300-500 a month; count on paying at least RM750 (that’s about 2 million rupiah!) for a luxury villa. Indeed, my Bali vacation has been a powerful incentive for me to become grotesquely rich (as I fully deserve to be).

Understandably - considering Bali’s immense popularity as a tourist destination (it has successfully retained its reputation as “the world’s most beautiful island” for decades) - I was initially anxious that I might find the place overrun by busloads of budget airline tour groups (Malaysians and Taiwanese are notorious for traveling in large, noisy platoons). As it turned out, the only horribly congested areas were the Kuta-Legian “drunken surfer” strip – and two or three shopping streets in Ubud. Everywhere else I ventured, Bali looked its remarkable, unflappable self.

I stayed only one night in Kuta, in a quiet guesthouse just off the busy commercial hub, and did a wee bit of shopping (nylon hammock, music DVDs, a cool shirt). Bumped into a lovelorn Irish gypsy named Eva and dispensed a bit of free advice. Rented a motorbike the next morning - cheap at 40,000 rupiah (about RM15) a day - and off I rode, feeling freer and easier than I have in years. Getting in and out Kuta, though, is quite a feat as the streets are a veritable maze, dusty and dense with traffic. You can’t rely on maps in Bali. Just stop and ask every 10 minutes. You’ll find that everybody is happy to point you in the right direction with a genuine smile.

One of the greatest joys in life is to ride a motorbike through open country without the impediment of a ridiculous crash helmet. True, Bali has been coerced by the diabolical forces of globalization into making crash helmets compulsory - but the rule is rarely enforced, especially outside the crowded urban areas, and this is one sure gauge of a nation that hasn't signed a contract with Dr Mephistopheles!

In Ubud I was surprised to hear somebody call my name. I turned around and caught sight of Andrew Sia’s beaming face. Did a quick U-turn and caught up with him down the road. Andrew (from The Star) was chauffeuring his mum around. He suggested I check out the sacred spring at Tirta Empul, Tampaksiring.

At Gunung Kawi, the royal pura (temple) and amphitheatre  carved out of granite are worth a visit.

11th century meditation cave at Gunung Kawi.

Met another Malaysian, oddly enough also from The Star, at Gunung Kawi. Zafarul was honeymooning with his new bride, Nazmi. He promised to pop me an email. Still waiting, Zafarul!

Private shower at Gunung Kawi - for me the most mystical moment of my brief sojourn there!

[To be continued...]

Text & photos © Antares

PART FOUR

KEMBALI KE BALI (Part Two of a 4-part pictorial essay)

Barong, king of spirits, getting ready for the grand cremation of Bali's Queen Mother.

More preparations in Ubud for the Royal Cremation.

WHY ON EARTH did it take me 26 years to return to Bali? My first visit in 1981 stretched over 5 weeks and every day was a Technicolor dream filled with adventure, romance, inspiring vistas, and delicious sensations.

Perhaps the high point of that earlier trip was my encounter with the Bird and the Bearcat in a tourist restaurant on Lovina Beach. I found myself seated opposite two friendly young women who looked Scandinavian. As we chatted over coffee after dinner, somebody shouted: “Wow! Look at the full moon!” So we decided to take a stroll on the beach to revel in the silvery moonshine. Somehow I found myself standing beside the Bird on the surf’s edge. It was a moment of perfect ease and deep tranquility.

Without a word spoken our lips and souls connected.

Bird spoke briefly to Bearcat (her favorite traveling companion and childhood friend of ten years) and jumped on the back of my rented motorbike. We rode off to my humble lodgings and, with only a few coconut palms as our witnesses, I married Agnete "Bird" Holbak under a cloudless Balinese sky. Our honeymoon lasted less than a week before Helle the Bearcat turned up at our charming guesthouse on the outskirts of Ubud. “Your birthday is tomorrow,” Bearcat reminded Bird, “and I can’t let you celebrate without me!” So the three of us saw the Bird turn 21 in Ubud and thereafter, we decided to save money by sharing a room – the Bird and I in one bed, Bearcat in the other. And I thought such things only happen in the movies…

My Danish viking angels flew off to tour Malaysia’s peninsular east coast as planned while I stayed on in Bali another few days. They had my address in KL and promised to reconnect at the end of their journey. As it turned out I decided to cut short my Bali trip so that I could meet up with my dad at Changi Airport, Singapore. He was on his way to Melbourne for heart bypass surgery, accompanied by my mum and sis. The operation, performed by Dr Vincent Chang (the acclaimed heart surgeon who was senselessly murdered a few years later by a Malaysian thug), was successful beyond all expectations. My dad lived another 23 years and died of bronchial congestion in October 2004 at the ripe old age of 88.

Bird and Bearcat did show up at my doorstep in KL and we enjoyed a bonus vacation on Pangkor. I subsequently visited the Bird in Copenhagen a couple of times; and in 1987 Bird, Bearcat and I enjoyed a 10-day reunion in Phuket as the six-legged monster of Laem Promthep.

Stone monkey guards a wayside shrine.

In any case that 1981 holiday in Bali permanently changed my outlook on life, gave it an earth-centered spiritual grounding. The very next year I discovered the enchanting location I now call home. It was the closest I could get to living in paradise without leaving Malaysia. My nearest neighbors are now the Orang Asli who are in many ways like the Balinese – although they sadly lack the aesthetic sense, the unforced graciousness, and the rich tradition of skilled craftsmanship that characterize the Balinese.

Dead trees transformed into magnificent works of art.

Wherever you turn in Bali, you'll see skilled artisans hard at work - and there are expert woodcarvers, stone sculptors, metalworkers, and glassblowers to be found in large numbers, especially in the Gianyar province, where the cultural hub of Ubud is located.

Undoubtedly the people of Bali are an integral part of the island’s irresistible allure. Three million people – give or take twenty thousand tourists at any given time – crowded together on an island no bigger than the state of Selangor. A strong sense of hierarchy and tradition underpins all of Balinese social life - legacy of an era when Hinduism (along with the caste system) arrived on the island with refugees from the shrinking Majapahit empire.

Apart from the aristocracy - and it’s not unusual to meet a few “Anak Agungs” just as “Tengkus” aren’t uncommon in Malaysia, since Royalty everywhere has a penchant for polygamy - Balinese families classify themselves as Brahmanas (priests and scholars), Ksatriyas (warriors), Vaesyas (artisans, farmers, merchants), or Sudras (laborers).

I doubt that the demarcations between the castes are as rigid today as they once might have been, and intermarriage across caste lines must be fairly common these days. Balinese are named according to their status within each family. Every first-born has Wayan as a first name; second-born, Made; third-born, Nyoman; and fourth-born, Ketut.

What about the fifth-, sixth-, and seventh-born?

“The parents are free to name these children whatever they like,” I was informed by a lovely she-male named Nyoman Ayu (left) who took a shine to me.

Striking architectural and cosmological similarities abound amongst the monument-building cultures found along the Asia-Pacific Rim, leading one to speculate on Bali’s ancient links, via the Indian, with the Cambodian, Incan, and Mayan civilizations.

The Pleiadian influence reveals itself in the symbolism of the sacred bull (Alcyone, the brightest star in the Pleiades, is also known as Eta Tauri, and happens to be part of the Taurus constellation). Interestingly, the Pleiades features prominently in the starlore of almost every culture found south of the Equator; while, in the northern hemisphere, the predominant influences are Sirius and Orion. Energetically speaking, one may regard the Pleiades as a "feminine" or magnetic influence and civilizations in the southern hemisphere tend to be more mystical. Whereas the "masculine" or electrical influence of Sirius and Orion tends to inspire civilizations that are more technologically inclined.

[To be continued...]

Text & photos © Antares

PART THREE

SHANNON @ RWMF 2007

Polish Celtic folk-jazz fusion group SHANNON explores new musical territory with the addition of Maria Namyslowska on keyboards and Marcin Drabik on electric violin (with Marek Kwadrans on bodrhan). Captured in action at the Rainforest World Music Festival, Sarawak, on 15 July 2007.

APU @ RWMF 2007

The colorful and exuberant Aseana Percussion Unit (APU) represented Peninsular Malaysia at the Rainforest World Music Festival 2007. Today, Malaysians celebrate the 50th anniversary of Merdeka or Independence (though from whom or what it's hard to say) - so it's only appropriate that APU be invited to liven up the party with their feel-good muhibbah stage act!

Inka Marka @ RWMF 2007

Inka Marka - easy-on-the-ears and on-the-eyes, this charming band of South American exiles in Melbourne have never failed to uplift and win the hearts of audiences at the Rainforest World Music Festival. Inka Marka are Jose Diaz, Michel Bestrin, Enrique Sanchez, and Jaime Carrasco.

[Video shot by Antares, 15 July 2007]

The Tunku on how "May 13" began

The May 13 incident as personally related by Tunku Abdul Rahman, the first Prime Minister of Malaya/Malaysia and "Bapa Merdeka"

From his residence in Penang, 1972:

“It was clear to me as well as the police that in the highly charged political atmosphere after the police were forced to kill a Chinese political party worker on May 4th, 1969, something was bound to happen to threaten law and order because of the resentment towards the Government by the KL Chinese on the eve of the general election. This was confirmed at this man’s funeral on the 9th May when the government faced the most hostile crowd it had ever seen.

Therefore, when the opposition parties applied for a police permit for a procession to celebrate their success in the results of the general election, I was adamant against it because the police were convinced that this would lead to trouble.

I informed Tun Razak (pictured right) about this and he seemed to agree. Now, without my knowledge and actually “behind my back,” there were certain political leaders in high positions who were working to force me to step down as a PM. I don’t want to go into details but if they had come to me and said so I would gladly have retired gracefully.

Unfortunately, they were apparently scheming and trying to decide on the best way to force me to resign. The occasion came when the question of the police permit was to be approved.

Tun Razak and Harun Idris, the MB of the state of Selangor, now felt that permission should be given knowing fully well that there was a likelihood of trouble. I suppose they felt that when this happened they could then demand my resignation.

To this day I find it very hard to believe that Razak, whom I had known for so many years, would agree to work against me in this way. Actually, he was in my house as I was preparing to return to Kedah and I overhead him speaking to Harun over the phone saying that he would be willing to approve the permit when I left. I really could not believe what I was hearing and preferred to think it was about some other permit. In any case, as the Deputy Prime Minister in my absence from KL, he would be the Acting PM and would override my objection. Accordingly, when I was in my home in Kedah, I heard over the radio that the permit had been approved.

It seems as though the expected trouble was anticipated and planned for by Harun (shown left) and his UMNO Youth. After the humiliating insults hurled by the non-Malays, especially the Chinese, and after the seeming loss of Malay political power to them, they were clearly ready for some retaliatory action. After meeting in large numbers at Harun’s official residence in Jalan Raja Muda near Kampong Bahru and hearing inflammatory speeches by Harun and other leaders, they prepared themselves by tying ribbon strips on their foreheads and set out to kill Chinese. The first hapless victims were two of them in a van opposite Harun’s house who were innocently watching the large gathering. Little did they know that they would be killed on the spot.

The rest is history. I am sorry but I must end this discussion now because it really pains me as the Father of Merdeka to have to relive those terrible moments. I have often wondered why God made me live long enough to have witnessed my beloved Malays and Chinese citizens killing each other.”

[From Raja Petra Kamarudin's blog, Malaysia Today]

Foghorn Stringband @ RWMF 2007

The Oregon-based Foghorn Stringband is characterized by "tight instrumental work - fiddle, banjo, mandolin, bass and guitar - reminiscent of early bluegrass, but their powerful approach is whole-heartedly old-time, centered largely by the fiddle." Caught in action at the 2007 Rainforest World Music Festival, Sarawak.

Fatigue cripples US army in Iraq

A marine asleep at his base in Falluja, Iraq. Photograph: Nicolas Asfouri/AFP/Getty images

Exhaustion and combat stress are besieging US troops in Iraq as they battle with a new type of warfare. Some even rely on Red Bull to get through the day. As desertions and absences increase, the military is struggling to cope with the crisis

Peter Beaumont in Baghdad
Sunday August 12, 2007
The Observer

Where once the war in Iraq was defined in conversations with these men by untenable ideas - bringing democracy or defeating al-Qaeda - these days the war in Iraq is defined by different ways of expressing the idea of being weary. It is a theme that is endlessly reiterated as you travel around Iraq. "The army is worn out. We are just keeping people in theatre who are exhausted," says a soldier working for the US army public affairs office who is supposed to be telling me how well things have been going since the "surge" in Baghdad began.

They are not supposed to talk like this. We are driving and another of the public affairs team adds bitterly: "We should just be allowed to tell the media what is happening here. Let them know that people are worn out. So that their families know back home. But it's like we've become no more than numbers now.

The first soldier starts in again. "My husband was injured here. He hit an improvised explosive device. He already had a spinal injury. The blast shook out the plates. He's home now and has serious issues adapting. But I'm not allowed to go back home to see him. If I wanted to see him I'd have to take leave time (two weeks). And the army counts it."

A week later, in the northern city of Mosul, an officer talks privately. "We're plodding through this," he says after another patrol and another ambush in the city centre. "I don't know how much more plodding we've got left in us."

Photo from www.incommunion.org

When the soldiers talk like this there is resignation. There is a corrosive anger, too, that bubbles out, like the words pouring unbidden from a chaplain's assistant who has come to bless a patrol. "Why don't you tell the truth? Why don't you journalists write that this army is exhausted?"

[Read the whole tiresome report here.]

THE WAVE OF LOVE

A movie about awakening humanity and hence the collective consciousness to a blissful state of simply BEing LOVE. Visit http://www.thewaveoflove.com
Thank you! :-)

Produced by Simone M. Matthews
UNIVERSAL LIFE TOOLS


[Video recommended by Judy Mezen]

Think YOU Have Problems???

Could this be the DIMMEST sector of the entire electromagnetic spectrum? Dimmer than even the Umno General Assembly?

NOTE: This video from the Huffington Post loads very slowly. To view without irritation, click on pause after it begins loading and go take a leisurely crap.

Max Blumenthal says: "I have covered the Christian right intensely for over four years. During this time, I attended dozens of Christian right conferences, regularly monitored movement publications and radio shows, and interviewed scores of its key leaders.

I have never witnessed any spectacle as politically extreme, outrageous, or bizarre as the one Christians United for Israel (CUFI) produced last month in Washington. See for yourself."

[And decide whether it's all about Rapture or Rupture!]

A Day In The Life of the Doghouse Skiffle Group

Alan Harman, Garry Pullen, and Keith Cheesman (three quirky dudes from Hull, England) impersonate Bat Masterson, Hopalong Cassidy and Wyatt Earp on tea-chest bass, washboard, and guitar. Check out their audacious interpretation of "an old English folksong" - A Day In The Life - by The Beatles! Captured live at RWMF 2007.

Randy Raine-Reusch with Tabuh Pak Ainal [RWMF 2007]

Randy Raine-Reusch - Vancouver-based collector of exotic instruments and a master musician of worldwide repute - teams up with superb Sarawakian father-and-son percussion unit, Tabuh Pak Ainal, at the Rainforest World Music Festival 2007.

No peace on Peace Hill (an interesting excerpt from Malaysia's boldest blog)

The IGP said that he is being framed by his own men. If he is lying that is bad because he would then be in the same league as Umno’s much-disgraced Information Chief. But if what he says is true then that is equally bad. This demonstrates that the IGP has lost control of the police force. Is the police force a force by itself? Is this why officers from the special unit are moonlighting as assassins for those who wish to dispose of pesky foreign lovers? And it appears, according to the court testimony during the ongoing murder trial of Razak Baginda and his two attack dogs, weapons and ammunition can be taken in and out of the armoury without any security checks. In fact, the court was told, the officers can even take home the unused bullets and other dangerous stuff.

Malaysia Today had already arranged to video-record an interview with the late Altantuya’s father but unfortunately the interview had to be aborted because he was being closely followed and he could not shake off his tail. Malaysia Today wanted to record on video the very interesting testimony from the man who has intimate knowledge of the real story behind the Altantuya murder. Of course, normally Malaysia Today has to base its information on what the many Deep Throats have to reveal. But this was going to be no Deep Throat.

This is the father of the deceased who was going to bare it all for the world to see. He had a story to tell and he wanted the world to hear his story through Malaysia Today. But it was not to be because three intelligence agencies would not let him out of their sights.

What they told me was most frightening indeed. It seems the two police officers currently on trial for murder never revealed the location where Altantuya was disposed. The police knew exactly where the place was in spite of its extremely hidden location and which is off the beaten track. How did they know? Is it because that location is ‘gazetted’ as a disposal site? Furthermore, I was told, when the forensic people took away Altantuya’s remains, they discovered that the remains were not of Altantuya alone but of nine different people. I wanted all this on video because short of this 'evidence’ not many would believe such a thing like this.

Now Razak’s Affidavit that he filed during his bail application in front of Justice Segara makes sense. According to Razak, the inspector told him he had already killed six people before. Were these six amongst the remains of that nine?


[Read the whole spine-tingling story here!]

Rot and More Rot in Malaysia’s Judicial System

by "Mat Salleh" | 06 August 2007
Asia Sentinel

The “retirement” of two top prosecutors is the latest fallout from the Mongolian murder trial, but the problems run deeper.


With the trial of three defendants for the brutal murder of Mongolian translator Altantuya Shaariibuu entering another week, the Malaysian judiciary system is facing arguably its biggest crisis since former Prime Minister Mahathir Mohamad sacked the Lord President, Tun Salleh Abbas, and two Supreme Court judges in 1988, ending the court’s independence.

The immediate concern is the threatened resignation of two top prosecutors, Yusof Zainal Abiden, the head of the prosecution division, and Sallehuddin Saidin, the deputy prosecutor and head of the classified cases unit. Although the Attorney General’s chambers denied the two were resigning, they later said they were applying for “optional retirement.”

Although no reasons have been given for the retirement, Malaysia’s gossipy legal fraternity seems to believe that the two are leaving because of dissatisfaction over problems in the politically charged murder case. Other top prosecution figures are reportedly considering quitting as well despite the denials.

In fact much of the spreading dissatisfaction with the judiciary relates to how the case is being handled. Sallehuddin had been named head of the prosecution team until he was abruptly dropped from handling it by Malaysia’s attorney general, Abdul Gani Patail (pictured left), the night before the trial was to begin. The attorney general’s office issued a statement that the dismissal was because Sallehuddin had been seen playing badminton with judges, an explanation that few in the legal system believed. The prosecution was replaced by a new team led by Majid Tun Hamzah.

Before the 28-year-old Altantuya was murdered and her body was blown apart with explosives in a suburban jungle clearing last Oct. 19, she was the lover of Abdul Razak Baginda, the head of the Malaysian Strategic Research Centre and a close advisor to Najib Tun Razak, the deputy prime minister. Abdul Razak was charged, along with Chief Inspector Azilah Hadri and Constable Sirul Azhar Umar, members of Najib’s personal security team, on suspicion that the political analyst had prevailed on the two security men to get rid of her.

The Russian-educated Altantuya, who spoke five languages, and the high-flying political analyst were involved in a whirlwind affair that included expensive gifts and trips to Europe, as well as payments up to US$10,000. After the married Abdul Razak had apparently tired of his paramour, the woman came to Malaysia to demand US$500,000 from him as support for a baby he allegedly sired.

From the time of the arrests, the case has been treated with extraordinary sensitivity in Kuala Lumpur, with every effort being taken to keep Najib’s name out of the trial – attempts that failed when Altantuya’s cousin testified in court that she had seen photos of Altantuya together with Abdul Razak and Najib at a dinner.

Strangely in what is presumed to be a court of law, both the prosecution and the defense asked that her testimony be stricken from the record, and neither side bothered to attempt to subpoena the picture. Nor at any time during the trial has either the prosecution or the defense attempted to ascertain how Abdul Razak, a private citizen, could prevail on Najib’s bodyguards to get rid of the woman without informing Najib about the matter. Najib has never been questioned or asked to testify.

[Read the rest here]

Huun Huur Tu & Malerija @ RWMF 2007

Huun Huur Tu - everybody's fave-rave Tuvan throat-singing phenomenon all funked up with some tasteful, techno-trance from Malerija (who add the Russian rush). In concert on 15 July 2007 @ the Rainforest World Music Festival, Sarawak.

Sex and murder scandal casts a political cloud in Malaysia

Jonathan Manthorpe, Vancouver Sun
Published: Wednesday, July 18, 2007

The political future of the man earmarked to be Malaysia's next prime minister is in doubt because of his links to a sensational court case involving the murder of a beautiful young Mongolian translator.

There is already speculation in Kuala Lumpur that deputy prime minister Najib Razak has been forced by the daily courtroom drama to shelve plans to grab his political inheritance early by ousting the lacklustre prime minister, Abdullah Badawi.

Some Malaysian analysts contend the murder of the young woman in October last year has already seriously disturbed Malaysia's power structure because Prime Minister Abdullah, a saintly Islamic scholar with little taste for the rough-and-tumble of politics, has delegated much of the day-to-day administration of the country to his deputy, Najib.

[Read the rest here.]


Oh, oh, here comes that sinking feeling...

A Starry-Eyed Vacation from Bloggoria

[photo taken 07.07.07 by Anoora Chapek]

It's that time of year again: the Rainforest World Music Festival celebrates its 10th anniversary from July 13-15 at the Sarawak Cultural Village and you bet I'll be there! Having been a performer at the very first festival back in August 1998 (read my euphoric report here!), I haven't missed a single year. I look forward greatly to the reunion with fabulous musicians from all over the world who have all played at this festival at least once over the past decade - the boys from Shooglenifty (a totally hip Edinburgh trancedance band that's been around since the 1970s), Mas Y Mas (great buddies who have visited Magick River twice since 2004), The mesmerizingly charismatic Hanitra (Anch) of Tarika Be and her delightful sister Noro, the friendly Inka Marka guys from Melbourne, three good-humored chaps from Hull who call themselves the Doghouse Skiffle Group... and, of course, Huun Huur Tu, the sensational Tuvan throat-singers with their Russian acoustic/electro-trance collaborators, Malerija! Oops, forgot to mention my Mohican wizard friend Marcin Ruminski who heads Shannon, the powerhouse Polish Celtic group that rocked the crowd in 2005, and the wholesome, sweaty boys from Oregon who call themselves the Foghorn Stringband :-)

Back before anyone notices I've been gone. Good time to browse my blog archives, ha ha.