Outdoor Toilet

Hi All,

As you know I am not much for jokes or just junk being sent around on the internet, and I tell all my friends not to send me anything unless it is real, real good. I found this one so interesting I had to share it with you:

This is a real, outdoor toilet.

Even more crazy is when you enter! Do you think you could do it? This is for the closet voyeurs in the crowd!

Yes….see through!

Caracas, Venezuela

I was in Caracas Venezuela for the past 2 weeks. I have no idea why people would voluntarily go there. It is like being in Baghdad, except there are fewer murders per day in Baghdad, it is safer in Baghdad. Venezuela's “official” murder rate is 130 per 100,000 residents. Note I said “official”. It is the murder capitol of the world, “we are the champions, we are the champions….of the world”!

My translator told me the city’s official homicide statistics likely fall short of the mark because they omit deaths that the state never gets around to properly “categorizing.” The numbers also don’t count those who died while “resisting arrest”, those who die “naturally” and so on! Some speculate the rate is actually closer to 160 per 100,000.

According to Foreign Policy Magazine reckoning “all in all, Caracas has resembled a war zone in recent years, and that raises an interesting question: How might Venezuela's murder rate compare to the rate of violent deaths in Iraq? Indeed, as Iraq's violence soared in 2006, Venezuela was itself a combat zone with 12,557 reported murders. That amounted to 34 murders per day -- or the rough equivalent of the lives snuffed out by a typical suicide bombing in Iraq; it population is about the same size as Venezuela's 27 million. Venezuela's murder rate is well ahead of four other top murder capitals that (in order of those boasting the worst rates) are: Cape Town, South Africa; New Orleans; Moscow; and Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea.

Now, that was 2006, the people in Caracas it is getting worse, not better! Now this is interesting, the cops will only investigate a murder if there is only one bullet fired. The reasoning is, if it is one bullet, maybe two, then it was most likely a “regular” murder, and they should look for the bad guy. If it is many bullets, then it was gang related. Of course everybody knows this so every person killed has multiple gunshots, so it is never investigated. Some of what I was hearing was laughable, if it was not so darn sad!

A question comes up…why? The answer comes from the top:

When I was walking in the street my translator told me to stop talking….I thought he was kidding, nope, the rude bastard. But it was because if people hear me talking we become a target, and we may not make it back to the hotel! We went to Valencia for the weekend, and it was much nicer there, and only 10 murders per day, so I felt much safer, ya right! I did go out for walks during the day though, but I did not talk, I pretended I was a deaf-mute - only sign language. Some people would prefer this condition on me, but that is another story.

Caracas homes are fenced and barricaded, shielding themselves behind steel bars and high walls topped with broken glass. Lots of private security patrols, guard dogs and bulletproof windows. What a fun place to bring up your children.

Enough of the doom and gloom, here is some fun stuff:

Driving In VZ. The driving was interesting as well. If the traffic was not moving very fast, which it was never, then the drivers would make new lanes. The bus is not parked it is driving in the grass! As you can see by the tire tracks in the grass, this lane is often used. The next one is a taxi that took the grass highway.

Speed Control. This is very interesting. Someone, probably a bureaucrat who does not drive or maybe an elementary school class recently dreamt up a new way of controlling highway speeds. A police car drives in the middle of the highway and keep everyone behind them. This of course causes a traffic jam. The people try to pass the police car and the police play chicken with them. Every time the car tries to pass the police car cuts in front! So funny! Then two cars come up, one fakes the police car out and the other car slips by. The another car comes up to let the other guy out, etc. Who in the hell though of this, really? This truck was the first guy who was trying to pass the Police car by himself, but no luck until another car came up to help, then it was just a free-for-all. Unfortunately our car broke down before I could see the final result, maybe another shooting that of course, would not be counted, because it was not murder, but self defense!



On the way back from Valencia, the car broke down on the highway. It was going to take 1.5 hours for the tow truck to get there. Then another free lance tow truck came up, and it was going to cost a lot more, so I said I do not mind waiting. But they paid this guy and I sat in the car on the back of the truck to Caracas. I asked why pay so much more? They said the chance of getting robbed was extremely high. A car will pull up, people rob you, and nobody on the highway will stop. Once it gets dark they say the chances of getting robbed at the side of the highway is 100%. I was happy for the decision!

Pictures are of the break down, the tow truck and then riding on the tow truck to Caracas. The two guys in the middle picture were not the bad guys, but my wonderful hosts. Great guys! The fellow in the forefront gave me the political layout of VZ. I learned a lot!

This in one of the houses that were off the side of the road, most houses you could not see, this is where the bandits come from.

This next picture is closer to Caracas. These are the “housing projects” where the low income or no-income people live. In the area where I took this picture is bumper–to- bumper traffic jam in rush hour during the week days. The people come out of their homes, and rob people who are stuck in traffic. Nobody gets out of their car to help the ones being robbed. They are just happy they were not the victims! The police say, they cannot do anything because they cannot get through the traffic jam.

That is Caracas traffic, at least it is moving. I got stuck in a traffic jam, complete stop, just because people some where in front of us were making a left turn. The left turn was not from the left lane as you would expect, they turn left from all lanes, all smushing together, and to hell with the people behind you. I could not drive there, I would have road rage, and remember the gun thing…I would not survive! I will never complain about traffic in China again, only India, Vietnam and now Caracas.

Food. The food was pretty good, but lots of salt and deep frying. Not my cup-of-tea. I did like trying some interesting dishes, one was squid as a stew, and the soup part was made from the ink from the squid. See the picture below. It was interesting, but not for a second time. I did like the old Spanish style restaurants. Below is a picture of meat curing in one of the restaurants. The meat is imported from Spain and then let to cure above the bar or somewhere in the restaurant above the seats. I was told the cigarette smoke gives it a unique flavor. This was not very much of a turn-on for me! But I did try some, and it was like proccutto, very salty and not something you would want to eat very often unless you wanted to die with hardening of the arteries at a young age. The majority of the people in Venezuela are under 35 years old, so with the food and murders, you know why!

Leaving the country- Then getting out of the country was interesting. It took almost 3 hours to get through from the front door of the airport to my boarding gate. The first line-up was for the airport tax. But first I had to negotiate to get the local currency. A guy approached us and the negotiations started. I did ok. It was cheaper this way. Now, into the line up for a security person to open up my luggage and look around. I thought his was instead of regular security clearance, but I was not so lucky. Then in the line–up for the boarding pass, after this then into the line up for another fee, this was a much larger fee, but I had the underground currency to pay, so it did not hurt so bad. I call this one a “fine”. It is a fine for being so stupid to go to Caracas.

Now you must go through security…it was total disarray! After 30 more minutes I got through and then came the final line up…customs. I waited in line for 30 more minutes and our line did not hardly move. Now if you know me, you know, by now I was now getting a little frustrated, well, truthfully, a LOT frustrated! My flight was now boarding, so I went to the front of the line, and jumped the queue. I got through and walked directly onto my plane. I hate queue jumping, it is normal in countries like China, but in Canada we stay in line like good little people. But it was necessary.

Yeah, I wouldn’t be planning any R&R trips to Caracas anytime soon if I was you. If you do, make sure someone is at the airport to meet you and accompany you all the time. You must be prepared for any friggin thing to hit you at any given moment without warning. I don’t trust that place one bit, and its virtually impossible to hear anything positive about Caracas from any travelers in the airport.

I do not know what this mural says, but I have a feeling they do not like the Americans very much!

Despite all of Venezuela’s problems the people I met were great! They are fun loving, gregarious people. The country is beautiful. If they can pull out of this mess they are in, and then rebuild, it would be a great place. I do not think this will happen in my lifetime, however. Too bad, this country has lots of potential for so much!

All is not negative in Caracas! And, they are not just known as being the murder capitol of the world. I think they are also the BOOB Capitol as well. When I was there I noticed all the boobs…you cannot help it, Venezuelan girls dress very sexy and they do like to highlight their boobs. And, I am not even a boob guy. I don’t care what size, as long as they are not big. I always think what they will look like when the poor girl turns 50! Not a good thought! So the smaller the better. Even the young girl had boobs, school aged I mean, and they have big boobs. I had to ask my host what the heck they were feeding the girls here. I thought whatever it was might be a good export product. I would become a multi-gizzilionare, with a natural boob enhancement product…probably the milk, you know all the hormones and stuff they put in milk. I don’t know why people drink this stuff, but that is another story.

The answer to my question was startling. Venezuela is the fake boob capitol of the world, so they hold two records, murders and boobs, I guess it is a bit of a balancing act. Boob jobs are so popular that women will pay in some cases 6 moths of their salary to get big cahoonas. Boob jobs are a hotter commodity than health in Venezuela. There are more beauty salons and spas than I have ever seeninmy life. They are everywhere, but try to find a pharmacy or natural health store, good luck, I tried. Guys buy their girlfriends and wives boobs for special occasions, Xmas (hey guys, Xmas is coming this is a good idea for a stocking stuffer!), anniversaries, whatever. AND, this is the one that surprises me the most, school aged girls get boob jobs as graduation presents from high school. I can hear it now mother to daughter “ my little darling, if you do well in school you will get your very own set of fake tits, and yours will be bigger than anyone you now…even mine”. Breast implants are also quickly becoming a favored gift for young ladies celebrating their 15th birthday, and, it is from their mothers, not their fathers! As soon as they turn 15 they can go under the knife. What do they give the guys… probably penal extensions! The guys gotta keep up……………

Even in the shopping malls, the manikins have big boobs, real big, look at this picture below. It was not a sex shop window, it was a normal clothes store. I still felt like a bit of a perve taking the picture.

I thought because of the long term health related issues that boob jobs were not popular anymore. The days of that old California show, Boob Watch was finally over, so I thought. (Sorry Dennis, I know you are one guy that will be saddened by this! But you can go to VZ for a vacation to get you eyeful!)

A Canadian in Vietnam

It has been a long time since my last update; I will do my best to get caught up. Surprisingly I have had some people asking me for the next installment. And, I am not sure if I even know them! So, for the avid readers of my “where’s Ron” (kinda like Where’s Waldo) travel blog, here is the next installment.

Send me an email, tell me that you are keeping up with me; I love to hear from all of you, family, friends, students and other unknown categories.

A Canadian in Vietnam

What a trip, Vietnam! Exhilarating, scary, confusing and several other emotions…but most of all fun and eye opening.

I had an early flight to Ho Chi Minh City (the old Saigon). This is the plane I was flying on from Singapore (I think!)




We made it Ho Chi Minh, and I am now on my way to a presentation.

I am finished with the meeting and we took a picture outside the
Institute we were visiting. I did not know I was going directly
to a meeting when I got off the plane, so I was in jeans and T-shirt. But this was ok!

I found out you do not walk in Vietnam, it could be very dangerous, and I tried it! How do you get around? You ride - a motorcycle, a bicycle, a pedicab…Yes there are sidewalks, but to the Vietnamese, and most other South East Asian countries, a sidewalk is a place to park you motorcycle, to eat (sitting on a low plastic stool), to sell your wares… a place for almost anything except walking. I just left Singapore and it is the same there, the only way to walk dragging a suitcase is on the road beside the sidewalk.

See what I mean about the side walks.

In Vietnam, there are more motorcycles per capita than any country on this earth. An entire family can ride on a motorcycle at the same time, the father driving with junior standing in front holding the handle bars, and mother sitting behind him carrying the baby who is sound asleep despite the roar and incessant honking of rush hour traffic. Yes, your math is correct, 4 persons on a small motorcycle with or without helmets. I have seen up to five. They are definitely good drivers. I remember not to long ago taking Tommy Martin to the Westsyder on the back of my Honda scooter, and could hardly control it. I told him he had to walk home; I wonder if he made it?

The view through the taxi window, I was in the back seat, as usual,

I never sit in the front seat…too scary!

I asked my host why so many people are sitting around on top of their motorcycles for hours on end, he said it’s not a good idea to leave your bike unattended in this country- it might get stolen, fast! Most Vietnamese pay someone to watch their motorcycles when they are not using them, so these people are the bike sitters, watching up to 3 or 4 bikes at a time. Motorcycle taxi drivers even eat and sleep on their motorcycles while waiting for fares.

Well, this is not a motorcycle, but you get the picture. I will get another one later.

Saturday night in Ho Chi Minh City (the old Saigon), men drive their dates to the waterfront and park. In other areas of the city you can see rows of couples sitting on their bikes, talking and kissing.

Motorcycle dump truck I want one for home. I can use this.

Even though the car taxi fare for a short distance in the city is only around 1 dollar, I still preferred to walk. I do this a lot; this is how I get a sense of the city, the culture and the people, and darn it, I do like to walk. This raises the ire of the motorcycle taxi drivers, who shout “motorbike, motorbike!” or “motorbike you!” at me every few minutes. I have to learn the polite way of saying, “No I prefer not to ride on your death mobile today” I did this once, and I still wake up in cold sweats at night!

WalMart deliver van….I mean bike.

This one was priceless! This is the local butcher shop on a delivery.
I got a few more of this one if anyone wants them send. I love Vietnam.
Where else would you get this? Well, maybe China.

Actually, to call these guys “motorcycle taxi drivers” is to glorify their behavior, as often they’re not taxi drivers but just guys on bikes who happen to be passing by. The one time I did succumb to this adventure was hair-raising to say the least. Prior to mounting the steed, I thought I should maybe get to know the guy a little and let him know I have children and grandchildren at home, and a few others that love me. He said his name was Ngue, and away we went. Well, immediately my suspicions about Vietnamese motorcyclers were confirmed. We were stopped at a red light right away, and I think the only reason he stopped was a large semi truck was already coming through the intersection. Off we went, out front, it felt a little safer, but on the opposite side of the road, the oncoming traffic look chaotic. Then a motorcycle from the oncoming traffic veered into our lane to pass the traffic in his lane, attempting an impossible pass. With a family of four bearing down on us, I was flinching like I had swallowed a mouthful of thumb tacks, and I made a futile attempt to use Ngue as a steering wheel and –WHAM – the foot rest of the oncoming bike whacked my foot as it passed. Thank goodness I was wearing shoes and not the sandals I normally was wearing. Ngue stopped the bike while the other driver continued his demolition derby driving.

“He is really crazy”, Ngue said, as I got off the bike and hobbled around. I checked my foot and it looked ok, but that evening my baby toe had turned blue, broken again! This poor toe has been broken several times, but never in this manner. He said get on, and I did….can you imagine? I think I was in shock! He did get me to my destination, and I walked home.

The one thing I did learn in Vietnam, was, do not run across the road. But I could not help myself, because, well what do you do when you have 3000 vehicles all around you blowing their horns, driving erratically….run Forest! And I did. But I got scolded by my host. Next road crossing he took me by the arm and said…stay with me. All I could think of was the motorcycle taxi guy who said “trust me”. Well, I made it half way across and bolted. It was a good run and I smiled as my host was still struggling to get across the road. You see, as young boy I lived on the Queen Elizabeth Highway and had to cross this every morning on the way to school (starting at 4 yrs old). And I survived. A few of my friends did not make it, but I had the rhythm.

The next time though I did get it! The roads in Vietnam really are orchestrated chaos. And believe it or not, it is easier to cross just simply walking and doing the street crossing dance. As I said, I got the rhythm!

This lady is a traffic control volunteer. I watched for awhile.

I think these people who do this, for no pay, bless there hearts

for trying to do something, have a death wish.

Well I gotta run now, my flight to India has been called and if I want to make the flight I better go. Do look here again, as I have more to share on Vietnam…and other places. Take care ya all!

It has been 3 weeks in Japan, and I am now in the airport leaving to Singapore. As usual Japan was interesting. I had my first week in a town called ?????. It is about a 2 hours train ride from Tokyo. The train ride was interesting in that it averaged 200 km/hr. Not bad for Canadian standards, but a few passengers were complaining how slow this train was. Apparently there was another train that travels much faster, but they missed it.

I was in ?????? for a Level 2 training course at a Nuclear Power Facility. Yes, it was through a translator. The pace drives me a little crazy, I can do my email during the translation portion. Of course I would not, because that would be rude, and I could not get the internet anyway. And, why is that? Why can I not get internet access easily in a country as sophisticated and advanced as Japan? For 3 weeks I have to struggle and be very innovative to find internet access in Japan.

In one place I walked and walked around until I finally found an Internet and Comic Café. This is where people come to hook up on the internet, mostly kids for gaming, and to read comic books. Interesting huh? It was down a dingy street, I could not hook my computer up, but I was so happy to have internet access, I did not care at this point. Here is the picture of the front of the place:

When I was there a fellow came to take my drink order and once I figured out what he wanted, I ordered a drink. I didn’t really know what I ordered, but when it came, the picture was a little funny, and with some inquiry, I found out I was drinking Hornet Juice, yep, that is what I said, Hornet Juice. It is the juice from the larvae from hornets. Now if that doesn’t make you wanna run for the toilet…But, it was quite good. And, why is it that everything healthy disgusting? I am going to find something some day that will be the next wonder food, and it is going to taste good, and be from something quite normal and easy to digest mentally as well as physically. I will keep you posted on this!

With a little research I found that athletes and fitness freaks in Japan are increasingly looking for the next generation of performance-enhancing drinks. There are so many on the shelf of the 7 Eleven. I wanted an energy drink to stave off a little jet lag and got this shelf that was full from floor to ceiling! I stuck with vitamin C and Ginseng combo. The latest one seems to be this Hornet Juice. Since I am in the Internet Café, my curiosity got the better of me and I had to do a little investigation! This drink is infused with a substance found in Hornet larvae. In nature the worker hornets extract a substance from the saliva of their un-hatched larva. The properties of this miracle goop have long been known to give the hornets the insect world equivalent of superhuman powers. And since some types of hornets can easily haul many times their own weight and fly up to speeds of up to 100km/h, Japanese scientists wondered if humans could gain an edge by swilling the slobber of these hornets. And, apparently they can, or at least until the athletic committees around the world ban it as a performance enhancing demon! And now pro athletes and weekend warriors around the world are drooling the prospects of this hornet saliva. Go spit!

Hey Caleb, you need a job lets start to import this stuff to Canada. It’s gonna be big! Let me know if interested. Kamloops can become the Hornet Spit capitol of Canada!

Back to the little nuclear town, I was talking about. I have a nice small properly appointed hotel room, as most are in Japan. I banged my head so many times walking through the bathroom door, I finally had to tie some string the top of the door. The room overlooked the ocean and I experienced the most amazing sun rises every morning. I know now why the call Japan, the land of the rising sun.

This was the highlight of my stay. I did get out for one evening. Apparently the little lady at the Karaoke place remembered me from 2 years ago. So the one guy wanted to take me there again. I was shocked she could remember. I actually thought it was someone else, not me. The last time I was there I could not believe that this lady could make a living from this little old place. Maybe it gets busy on the weekends? So we went, and sure enough she remembered who I was. I guess they don’t get many Westerners there? I asked my translator to ask her how she could remember me from one visit so long ago. She looked back and forth between my translator and me, hesitated and then said, because you are so tall…(ahh, so nice I thought!)…and sing so bad! But, she did tell me I have improved, ya right!

February 6 - The Avalanche

Today I started my travel. I am on my way to Sweden to write my Level III Exam for the new BINDT/ISO IR/T Standard. I normally start my flight from Kamloops, this day there were no flights available. So, I had to drive. This is normally a 4.5 hour drive through the beautiful mountains. But in the winter it could be a real adventure. These are very high mountains and we have been having lots of snow this winter.

So, I got up at 3am, answered my email, talked with China and Bernd, our German trainer, and jumped into my old van and started off on my trek through the mountains. When I went outside, I could see that we had snow during the night, in fact it was still snowing. So I had to clean the driveway off before I could get going. I was hoping that the snow was localized and was not on the highway, ya right! I think I was still dreaming, as it was now 4am.

It was very slow going because the highway was completely snow covered and you could not see pavement or any line markings. I was just following the tracks in front of me. Just like the Canadian hunting spirit, follow the tracks. I was just hoping that the driver that went before me knew where he was going.

I was very happy when the sun rose. Now I could see more than 5 meters in front of me. I caught up to a few large trucks and managed to pass some, but as we went the road became only a path large enough for one vehicle. Up until this point the drive was a little stressful but I was still on time to catch my plane in Vancouver.

Here are a few pics of the drive:

The pictures above are when the highway was still in good shape. Yes, I said, “good”. I guess everything is relative!

Now it is starting to get a little rough. And then when I saw the highway trucks ahead with the arrow on it. I knew there was trouble ahead.

All traffic was being pulled over. Why, because there was an avalanche. So here I am stuck in the mountain and cannot turn back, and, I have to catch a flight. But…if they clear the road soon, I can still make it.

The line up. So there I was, stuck in the Canadian mountain wilderness.

But as a typical Canadian I had my safety gear with me - reading material and my computer!

To make a long story short, I was pretty much stuck in the mountains for 2 days. I did miss my flight and the exam. No fun!

February 3 - Ice Hockey

This was a beautiful Saturday. I got a call from Elias, my grandson. “Grandpa, I am in hockey now, and I got all my good hockey stuff” I already knew this and I also knew he was even sleeping in the stuff. He then says,” Grandpa, do you want to come and play hockey with us?” Of course I would. So we met at the outdoor hockey rink. It was great because there we not many people there and we pretty much had the whole thing to ourselves.

Here is the whole team. Even the little guy wanted to play, but since he cannot even walk, at this point to put skates on his feet would be rather ineffective. But he is Canadian, hmmm, maybe he can skate, but just not walk. I will have to try this next time!

February 2nd

For those of you who know me a little better here are a few pictures of my grandchildren. We were having a relaxing morning.

The night before, we were having a little get together of some friends. I an in the kitchen cooking!

Here is a picture of the young one. He does look so innocent!

But you have to watch him………..