I created a Facebook page for my book, Serendipity Road. I’m still waiting for it to be formatted. Once that’s done, I’ll be ready to publish. My book is not illustrated, so I’ve included photos and quotes from the book on my Facebook page. I’d like for readers to visit my page, so I’ve included a few photos from the past 10 years in Cambodia here in hopes you’ll visit my page and look at more.
“All it took to eat well at the edge of the jungle was a few hours of foraging, hunting and gardening. Anything they lacked, like rice, they bought with the proceeds of the charcoal they made in their charcoal oven and the occasional turtle they sold in the market.”
When we went to Svay Riengh, we stayed in this house. Svay Riengh is near the Vietnam border. Sopheak’s family lived in the rice fields when she was young and she still considers Svay Riengh home. I can’t say I blame her. Life is slower, quieter and easier there than in Sihanoukville. She’s considering selling our house in Sihanoukville and buying land closer to the main city in Svay Riengh. Either that or we’ll move to Klang Leu so the kids can continue going to school in Sihanoukville.
When I first met Sopheak, we travelled a lot. On our trip to Ratanakiri, we stopped off in Kratie to view the Irrawaddie dolphins. On the way back, Sopheak took the helm for a photo op. When we were viewing the dolphins, I tried zooming in, but they were too quick. I stopped zooming in and cropped photos of the dolphins. That worked much better. They were pretty magical and I’m glad I had the chance to see them.
The next photo is of our first housekeeper, Sokha. She was a sweet girl, but on more than three occasions, she became possessed by the spirits of dead relatives. Her mother and baby sister were benign, but her older sister had been raped and murdered. She was angry and didn’t want to leave Sokha’s body. Believe it or not, an exorcism did the trick and Sokha has been fine since. I wrote about Sokha way back in 2011. Here’s the link to Surrealistic Pillow.
Here’s a short excerpt from the chapter about Sokha. The chapter title is Surrealistic Pillow. It’s from an old Jefferson Airplane song, but also refers to the pillow Sokha laid down on between visits from her mother and baby sister.
“Sokha! You put salt in my coffee instead of sugar!” I laughed. I had to shout, because she had gone back down the hall and into the kitchen. Not hearing a reply, I walked down the hall. When I got about halfway to the kitchen, Sokha stepped into the hallway brandishing a big knife.
“Now Sokha,” I said gently, trying to calm her down. Then I felt a whack across the back of my head.
“You skoot?” Sopheak shouted. “This one not Sokha! This one want kill you!” Then she pulled me back out of the hallway as she called out for Longh.
When Sopheak was a little girl, she wandered into the jungle with a phnong family. She left the family, but wandered for nearly two years, living on small potatoes and other foraged food in the jungle. Her only companion was her pet squirrel, Yuri. It’s an amazing story and I cover it in the first chapter and later in the book, when Sopheak told me about her time in the jungle when we were building our house in 2007. When we went to Ratanakiri, we went to a showcase phnong village and Sopheak met this woman. Contrary to what some people think, phnong is not the name of a tribe. It means “savage” in Khmer and unfortunately refers to all indigenous Cambodians.
Fear and loneliness plagued her in equal measures during her first weeks alone in the jungle. She kept fear at bay by saying “Maybe I sleep, not wake up” before she slept at night. Every morning she said, “Maybe I die today, but not dead yet” and found the courage to keep going.
Finally, here’s my new book cover. The photo was taken in 1972 when I was in India. Neem Karoli Baba is at the bottom of the photo. He’s best known as Ram Dass’ and Krishna Das’ guru. I’m the guy with his hand on his hip at the top of the photo. My Guru Who Wasn’t My Guru tells the story of the nine months I spent hanging around Neem Karoli Baba in India in 1972. I met him in 1971, but almost died from a bout of hepatitis. I returned after I recovered and scraped together enough money for the trip.
Note the subtitle: Between Heaven and Hell. I’ve had some remarkable spiritual experiences in my life, but I didn’t want to pretend I don’t stumble along through life. I’ve done as many dumb things as anybody and didn’t want to leave them out of the book. Some are embarrassing, but that’s okay. I don’t mind being embarrassed as much as I would mind pretending to be someone I’m not. This is my latest short description of my book. I’m still polishing it, but this is the best one yet, in my opinion anyway.
Take a magic carpet ride through the honeycomb of time. Serendipity Road is set in Cambodia, where the author has lived for over 10 years. He tells the remarkable story of Sopheak, who wandered into the jungle at the age of eight and didn’t return home for nearly two years. Sopheak introduced the author to a side of Cambodia most foreigners don’t get to see: a land of ghosts and spirits just behind the surface of life. In a series of flashbacks, the author recounts many miraculous experiences he has had. He experienced miracles in India in 1971 and 1972 and experienced energy healing in Bali and as a practitioner in Australia.
Serendipity Road is more than stories about miracles. The author has had his ups and downs in life and doesn’t hesitate to recount the stupid things he has done. As he writes: “Experiences like those should have been enough for me to become a more exemplary person, but there’s an inescapable magnetism that binds us to this thick, dense, dark world.” Hop aboard the magic carpet and discover how fate in the guise of a beautiful goddess he calls Serendipity guides the author through this world from the United States, to Australia, Indonesia and finally Cambodia, a destination a psychic predicted three years before the author even imagined he would visit, much less call home.
I’d also like to add that a palmist friend read my palm while we were having lunch in Hyde Park in Sydney. She saw four children in my life. “The lines are a little fainter, so they may not be your biological children, but they will be yours.” I didn’t believe her at the time, but she was right.