Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), Vietnam

I should entitle this post "WAR,WAR and US foreign policy!!!!!!!!!!!".

I'm actually currently in Nah Trag, south central Vietnam. A bustling resort town where I am getting PADI certification for diving. I needed a break after all the war museums, killing fields and tactical tunnels of Cambodia and Saigon. I'm feeling kind of overwhelmed at the moment as the Vietnam tourist spots are all hussle. It's a constant stream of "miss, miss...I take you around all the sites...two dollars" and "what are you doing tomorrow? I can book a tour for you". Vietnam is a lot better off than Cambodia, which I have come to call the "lost country". It seems forgotten in the history books and in the international community. Vietnam however, is economically plump in relation. Clean roads, educated populace and a culture that seems to me on the par with China in terms of mixing Capitalism with communism (I'm not saying that is necessarily a good thing). There seems to be less visible suffering here though than Cambodia.

The Killing Fields in Penhom Penh Cambodia were not what I was expecting. I was expecting a monument (which there was), information about the regime and the people who died, and some shallow graves. Well, two out of three isn't bad. There was information, a giant monument of thousands of human skulls encased in a glass pagoda. But the graves, weren't completely shallow. The Killing Fields were basically in a suburb about 50 km outside of Penhom Pehn ,in an agricultural area. There people were executed, buried alive, etc by the Khmer Rouge. As you walk around the shallow graves, it becomes immediately apparent that the trail you are walking on has clothes exhuming from the dirt, with bits of human bone. People are still buried there, who knows how many? 8,900 were formally exumed from that site alone, many of whom were tortured and killed at S21 prison in Penhom Pehn. It was very creepy, weird and voyeristic. I understand why the Cambodians have it as a tourist attraction, and it is important for people to see, but walking on the bones and old clothes of people who were viciously murdered gave me the shivers and I had to leave. The skulls are exhibited and not buried because it is believed by the cambodians that their souls are waiting for justice, for those responsible to come to trial. They have veen waiting over two decades, and the world gets on with more wars and genocides. Perhaps the skulls will eventually have a proper burial when the last perpetrator dies of old age or the world realises what war really is.

After that we (Hege and Didee and I) went to S21/Genocide museum, an old school ground that the Khmer Rouge used in interrogations. In it are torture intstruments, photos of victims, and personal accounts of just some of the thousands of people who live today that either participated in the torture or were the victims. I don't want to have to see another place like that for as long as I live, the tragic thing is, they are all over the world and the US continues to proliferate such scenarios as the Pol Pot regime. There will probably be one in Iraq in 30 years for Americans like me to spend $2 to go and see....great. That said, I wish every American could see this place, and the Killing Fields. Perhaps it would instill a sense of urgency about our government.

Next, I arrived in Saigon, where I went to the Cu Chi tunnels, just outside of the city. Basically it is the underground system that allowed the Viet Cong to win the war. A Quite amazing maze of tunnels that went four stories underground, where 30,000 people LIVED for 10 years. As the US forces were bombing, spraying agent orange and poisoning the landscape above during the day, the VC worked outside at night, dug tunnels by hand and replaced the dirt in bomb craters to hide evidence, grew roots from local trees and had locals boat in supplies from Russia and North Vietnam to feed and maintain the village and VC troops underground. Babies were born in the tunnels, actions were planned, they cooked, people were operated on in this vast underground city. "Rat Patrols" were sent in to the tunnels by the Americans (troops mostly of Hawaiian descent used for their small frame) because the tunnels were so small, the average American solider would get stuck. Only 50% of the "Rat Patrols" came out alive. When you hear of Veterans from the war speak of how they couldn't ever see the enemy, it's because of the tunnnels, an ambush would occur, and the VC would jump into a camoflauged trap door, disappearing into the landscape. Breathing holes were camiflauged to look like snake holes and termite mounds, the only source of Oxygen that had some of the tunnels, so deep in the earth, that they are off limits today due to their dangerous nature. Walking through them is a truly chlosterphobic experience, They are about 4 feet tall and 3 feet wide. I walked in one for 60 meters and almost passed out from the heat and clausterphobia. It's a testament to what people will endure to stay alive. When the war was over 20,000 people saw the light of day for the first time (10,000 of them died in the tunnels of disease and bombings) and 90,000 local people perished in the 140 km radius. There are tunnels like the ones in Cu Chi all over Vietnam.

After that I went to the War Remnants Museum. It was an incredible document of the war. There were so many things in it I did not know...even about the Anti War movement in the US. I didn't realise that 3 young men, US students, burnt themselves in protest of the war. Two died of their injuries, much like the monks in Vietnam who set themselves on fire. There is a very inspiring room of anti war protest photos from all over the world. The same cities where Anti war photos are taken today against the war in Iraq.

The war photography was quite moving, images that you just don't get anymore...images that end the desire to wage war...and make you ashamed to call yourself an American. I won't go into the grisly details of what was shown, but nothing was spared. The entire exhibit could have had the words "Iraq" replaced with "Vietnam". It made me so sad and angry. Many of the photographers whose photos were exhibited died doing their work. There is a photograph of a camera with a bullet hole through the middle of it (a far cry from the cameras of many of the pampered embedded "journalists" we have today).

So with that, I decieded to go scuba diving in Nah Trang and I'll be here for 3 days. I'm looking forward to being in one place for a bit and doing something not related to genocide and US foreign policy. Just spent 3 hours watching an American video on the PADI course. Wish me luck. I heard those Vitenamese sharks off the coast are pretty big.

Oh, and Buy Euros!!!!

Angkor Wat, Siem Reap, Cambodia

Right now I'm writing from Pehnom Penh as it has been quite hard to get good internet access for about a week. I left Bangkok on Saturday (it's Wednesday now) to Siem Reap. On the bus I met a cool gal from Sweden named Pernilla and a nice guy from Spain (who didn't speak hardly any English). We arrived at the border and got off our nice air conditioned bus and walked into a no mans land of giant casinos and begging naked children. This was the border between Cambodia and Thailand, and it quickly became apparent that Cambodia was not Kansas. Realising that the bus we had booked was going to take close to 6 hours for a three hour journey (lots of rest stops so we can buy souveniers and food from commissioned restaurants), Pernilla and two Norwegians (Hege and Didde) along with the Spainiard (jose) opted for a taxi. This was basically a very beat up unmarked 1985 or so toyota camry with cracks all over the windshield. We crammed 6 people into the car and we left the others behind to weather the bus. The road had pot holes the size of moon craters. The Cambodians lovingly refer to the road between Poipet (the border) and Siem Reap as "The Dancing Road". This reference I believe says a lot about the Cambodian people. We got to our hotel and were greeted by what I can only say are some of the warmest and friendliest people I've ever met in my life.

Considering what the Cambodians have been through (bombing by the US during the Vietnam war, Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge Genocide leaving 3 million people dead (with support from the US), and a landscape ravaged by landmines to this day)it's extraordinary to see such warmth emanating from just about everyone I come across. While in Siem Reap, we went to Tonle Sap Lake to see the floating village of Kampong Chanang, a village on stilts that when the rains come, sits nicely above the rising waters of the vast Tonle Sap lake (the worlds richest lake in Fish species). Every house has children laughing, and running, fishermen getting their nets ready, old women sewing clothes, a young woman tending to a Budda shrine and lighting incense, a boy trying to get his dog out of the boat because it jumped in unexpectedly. It's as alive as anything one could ever see. A village of several hundred people living in grass huts on stilts and living simply together. People here are poor...really poor, and life is extremely hard, but there is a sense of life, of public space, that the home is outside, on the street, in the river, outside of just the house. There is a TV in almost every boat in Kampong Chanang, but there is also a steep interaction with the outside community. All the doors and windows are open to the houses, almost inviting others to come in. It is impossible for it not to be this way I suppose. The village is interconnected by the river. Perhaps it is poverty? Perhaps it is the wonderful Brahma and Buddhist religious traditions? Perhaps it is years of untold hardship that make such and big spirit? I think it is all these things. The children here are amazing. Even when they are hustling for money they do it with a sense of humor and spirit. Where are you from? They ask. And if you say "California" they say "Capitol is Sacramento". If you say "Washington" they will say "Olympia" then they go back to their bargaining "I give you good price". It is there way to connect with rich westerners, knowing all the capitols of every country and every state in the US. Many of the kids speak better English than their parents (learning English during the Khmer Rouge was illegal), so they are working late hours in the restaurants, shops and hotels to get through the tourist season. Where the average Cambodian makes $15 in a month, $1 for a bottle of water can make all the difference. The Reel (cambodian currency) is so devalued that they use dollars here instead. It's a constant dance, making sure you don't get old dollar notes, or ones that aren't torn, as once you have them, you're stuck. But overall, I am amazed at how honest people are here considering how poor.

Pernilla, Hege and Diidde and I hung out the last couple of days in Siem Reap, went to see the spectacular temples of Angkor Wat (www.angkorwat.org) and went to one of the many local schools for the blind where blind students learn massage and are able to use the skill to support themselves financially. It was hands down, the best massage I had in my life.

It was nice to have the company of other travellers who I liked as it can get a bit lonely travelling in such a foreign place on your own. It's also less scary. I think it is actually easier to meet people when you are in a somewhat precarious place like Cambodia, where things seem on the verge of chaos and somewhat dangerous. People gravitate to eachother because they need to. There is safety in numbers. I think the Cambodians realise this. Perhaps this is another reason their villages are so tight. Everywhere I go, I can't help but think about the Khmer Rouge and the immense suffering that these people have endured (if you haven't seen the Killing Fields..go rent it). These people seem firmly in tact (which is more than I can say for the Eastern Block). There seems to be a commitment to end violence here and a great hope. I just arrived in Penhom Penh and the first thing you see when you enter the city is a giant gun (about 2 stories tall) in the middle of a round about. The barrel is tied in a knot, to symbolise the hopeful end of destruction that these people have endured for so long by the French, the US and then the Khmer Rouge.


Tomorrow I'll be going to S21 Museum and the Killing Fields. There's also a water festival which began with a "friendship" thai kick boxing tournament this evening. It was great until the electric generator blew up and left the stadium in the dark. Hege, Dita and I left before the lights came back on, but in true Cambodian fashion, the show went on. How do I know? Because the fight is still playing on all the TV sets in peoples homes and cafes.


For those who are interested, here is a fantastic article about the 30th anniversary of the overthrow of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge. It's told by a then child member of the Khmer Rouge. It really gives you a sense of how the country was turned upside down and how children became the main tool in the brutal regime.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/international/story/0,3604,1385395,00.html

Bangkok, Thailand

If Los Angeles was in Thailand, it would be called Bankok. That is an overly simplistic view, but from this perspective, this is the best way to get my bearings on this vast metropolis. Beyond that, I'm not having much luck in getting a feel for its boundaries, its shapes, veins and overall being. I've never been in a city (besides Los Angeles) that is so hard to get my head around.

That said, there is a constant pulse here. I've been staying on Kaosan road which is the main backpacker place to stay. Lots of annoying twenty sometings shopping their hearts out and getting super drunk (and laid). Anyone who has traveled to a third world country and who has done the lonely planet/rough guide trips knows exactly what I am talking about. Kathmandu and Delhi have a similar scene for the young backpacker. For Bankok it is Kaosan road.

I've been here three days now and am waiting for my visas to go through. I'll be heading to Cambodia on Saturday and looking forward to it. The great things about Bankok are the Buddhism, food and Thai Massages.

Where else can you get a TWO HOUR Thai massage for 8 bucks? As a result, I have been getting one every day which is great. My therapist "Lin" is a super cool gal gives an intense yoga stretch and chiropractic adjustment while applying intense pressure that can push your pain threshold to the limit. The only thing about going to her parlor is the young travel jocks who go and talk through the entire session with comments like "you're so beautiful...do you have a boyfriend" being spoken every three minutes in Iraeli, American, Brittish and German accents. The beds are only separated by sheets, so you have to listen to the whole interplay that goes on between the women and their clients. It's a pretty interesting dance that is done. The women definately play the sexual innuendo role to make that extra baht, but beyond that, I don't think it goes anywhere...at least not in that parlor and not in that room.

I made a valiant attempt at going to a Thai Boxing match. Don't know why blood sport was appealing to me, but it sounded like an interesting cultural experience (much like a Bollywood flick in a theater in Tamil Nadu would be). None of the Taxis would take me to Rajdamoen Stadium (they get stuck in traffic I guess) so I reluctantly took a Tuk Tuk, a three wheeled motor car that zips through traffic quite deftly. I say relectuantly because all of the drivers (that speak English) are hard salesmen, insisting on taking you on a shopping tour of the city. The driver who picked me up had a face mask on (to protect from the intense pollution from car exhausts) and drove head on through oncoming traffic. I told him he was insane and he laughed and gave me a thumbs up. I arrived at the stadium and bought a ticket. I noticed a sign for the "FICA:Women's world football championship" and asked the woman at the ticket counter
"Is there no Thai Boxing tonight?"
She said, "yes..yes...Thai Boxing. Russ plays Kora... it just started"
"That must be the names of the fighters," I thought....
Great, so I bought a ticket for about 50 cents and went inside. There was rumbling in the stadium of chanting, and as I walked up the steps I got excited. It will be just like a Jean Claude Van Dam movie! As I made it to the inside, I looked onto the field and saw a bunch of gals playing soccer. It was Russia playing Korea. So I sat and watched the match for a couple of hours (Korea won). I decided to head back to Kaosan road and tried to get a Taxi...but no luck, no one would pick me up. So I went to the main road and flagged down (reluctantly) another Tuk Tuk driver. He wanted to charge me four times the amount the Tuk Tuk charged me when I came to the stadium. I haggled him down and got in. He then proceeded to drive me through the seediest and creepiest streets in Bankok. Dark narrow back alleys. I told him I wanted him to go to the main road, but he wouldn't listen. Knowing that women at night can be prey to tuk tuk drivers I started to get a bit nervous and started yelling "Take me to the road or I won't pay!" I said. He reluctantly took me to the main road and asked "why did you yell?" Yelling is not an acceptable form of behaviour in Asia (India is the same) but it has saved me on several occasions from creepy situations like that one. I told him he scared me and that being a man he doesn't get it. He nodded and stayed on the main street after that. He then began to make rude innuendos like "do you like two men?" so I ignored him. He dropped me off and said I owed him more (the amound he tried to extort from me in the first place) I gave him our agreed amount and walked off and waved, he smiled and waved back. I mention this incident not because it has been a highlight of the trip, but because I know these are the types of situations that will really test my true character. Perhaps I should have handled the situation differently. Perhaps he was just taking short cuts (in retroespect I believe that is what he was doing). In the end, I was just glad to get back to Kaosan without being mugged. As I walked along the strip of intense capitalism, I noticed a plastic life size Ronald Mcdonald in Thai prayer position, beckoning customers to come in for a Big Mac. Yep, this is globalization..this is capitalism, and I'm a rich westerner in a poor part of the world...What in the hell am I doing here? I may never get the answer to that question.

On a happier note, I went to the local Buddhist University at Wat Mahathat for a meditation. Thailand pracitces similar Buddhism to the Tibet and in that it is Mahayana, but that is where the similarity ends. It's an interesting mixture of Hindu, Confuscionism and Buddhism. A Buddhist nun gave us basic instructions on Vipassina walking and sitting meditation (walk for an hour and sit for an hour). She then took us (three Czechs and me) to the basement where two hippie guys (students of the University) sat along a wall in a white room. So for three hours, there we sat and walked ...and sat and walked...and sat and walked. It was super interesting and I learned a tremendous amount...about my myself. The Czechs have done the same kind of meditating for retreats that were 15 hours long so they didn't fidget and twitch after the second hour (like me). Three hours of sitting in a room, staring at a wall and contemplating yourself was about all I could handle. Maybe tomorrow I'll take the 9 hour retreat....(only if I was on some kind of intense hallucinogen).

Next stop Siem Reap, Cambodia.

Lesvos,Greece

Travelling alone heightens elements of the surreal. Part of that can be attributed to my desire to not plan anything. A week ago I landed on Lesvos, one of the larger Greek islands, close to Turkey. It's landscape and weather are not too different from East San Diego, arid semi desert and very mediterranean. I landed in Mytlini, a bustleing little port town and waited for 6 hours to catch the one bus to Skala Essrou, the birthplace of Sappho and beach resort hang out for vacationing lesbians. I had been forewarned that the season was over so it came as no surprise that when I arrived, the entire town was boarded up. It was like walking around a war zone with empty buildings and cafe balconies on the beach whose shell only remained because the wood had been removed for the winter. I went to "Sappho's" (the lesbian hotel) and it was closed. Mind you, there were still a few pensiones, two cafes, a shop and an internet place operating. So to say it was a ghost town is not completely accurate. I found a nice place to stay with a woman who had 9 sheep in her front yard.

That night I sat on the beach and watched someone swim out to sea. It must have been around 7pm at night as the sun went down. The next morning I woke up to the sounds of migrating birds, thousands were everywhere. As I walked to the village of Essrou, I noticed a woman blowing kisses to someone in a window. I couldn't tell who it was initially, but as I walked close I could see it was a woman!!! My first lesbian sighting (a real lesbian on the island of Lesvos!). I walked along the road to Essrou and went into a small roadside shop where an artist sold painted rocks. I bought one as it was quite beautiful and she was super cool. She mentioned that there was a protest last week on Lesvos against the local mayor who wanted to build a coal burning power plant on top of the hills next to the energy generating windmills. Much of Lesvos (like many of the islands) use some form of renewable energy, be it solar or wind. Across from her shop was another artist who worked with iron, making sculptures out of old car parts (he had a dozen Olympic figures in the front yard made out of gas tanks and carborators...a tribute to the Athens Games!!!). I continued walking past the small farms dotted with burros, chickens, olive trees and grapes.

I made it to Essrou and had a coffee and wrote. I made my way into a little gift shop, and in it was the woman in the window. She was buying a lantern (I assumed for the girl blowing kisses to her). I left and thought that was a funny coincidence, but then she reappared and said hello. She was from Thessolinki and indeed buying a lantern for her girlfriend Victoria who is Austrian. Her name was Elani and she told me there are about 20 women who live in Skala Esserou full time, many of whom are German, Austrian or Dutch. She invited me for a swim in the ocean and so later that day we met up. It was quite amazing to swim in the Aegean's warm clear waters. You could open your eyes and see the white sand at your feet. The shores are lined with fish and most people spend their days there fishing, swimming or laying in the sun. It's a good life.

Elani had been there two years and enjoyed the simplicity of life. Her English wasn't so good, but I appreciated her warmth and willingness to communicate. She said the locals of Skala were friendly towards her and the other women, though it's taken a few years for the homophobia to subside. I guess Skala had been dropped by some of the major British tour companies because of the naked lesbians lying on its beaches ("lack of family atmoshphere"), hence the reason for the many boarded and closed businesses. Still, I enjoyed Skala a lot as it seemed very real, and the few people who were there were kind and easy going. That said, I have had many moments of what I have come to call "apparition sightings". Thanks to my friend Carolyne's performance piece in Tabor, I now notice simple moments of beauty where I may have not before. Those moments are hard to describe, but they can be as simple as the moon over a roof, or a cat sleeping on a rock, or an old woman praying with her rosaries as she walks to town, or a man selling freshly caught fish out of the back of his truck. They appear and leave. I want to take pictures of them,but realize it would ruin the beauty. So instead I just watch them and appreciate.
I'm looking for those moments actively now.

Next stop, Bankok.

Mykonos, Greece

So I parked myself on a Greek island for a week. Call me a softie, but the Eastern Block is COLD and Greece is not. People are friendly here and it's been good just to rent a cheap room and write, do lots of introspection and figure out the meaning of it all.

A couple of things about Mykonos you should know is it's a major tourist trap, but also a beautiful place. Mykonos Town was built in the 1800's and the layout of it is like a labrynth. This was evidently to prevent the problem of pirates pillaging the town, so when they came in, the villagers simply cornered them off in the maze. It's easy to get lost in this small town as all the narrow closes and walkways are white.

Also, cats are everywhere. People here are very Orthodox (even though this is a Gay island tourist destination) and don't believe in sterilizing the one million cats. As a result they are everywhere. In the room where I am staying, there are four of them that bang their head in the morning trying to get in to eat. They stare through the window, claw, meow and make a ruckus. This is no one's fault but my own as I fed them when I first got there. About two days into my trip, I was walking past a gutter near little venice, and I saw the most pathetic one eyed kitten that could barely walk. Knowing how I get involved with things like this, I told myself to ignore it as this is just one of the many of suffering animals on the island and I can't save them all. The next day I walked by the area again and it was there. The wind was blowing and its eye was so infected I couldn't bear it. So I took it to the Vet, got charged 45 Euros and now have the little thing under my wing. It's getting stronger and its right eye (though now blind) is healing.

A couple of hours ago, I parked myself on a beach with the little cat and we soaked up the sun. A drunk Sri Lankan guy approached me with interest. He seemed to like the little cat (and me) so I asked him if he wanted it. He agreed (though he was really toasted) so I gave it to him. He sat on the beach with the little thing and I gave him a big bag of cat food and milk. He asked me for five euros. It was not a good scene, but it was better than leaving the cat to the elements. He promised to take care of it and feed it. Even if he does it for a week, it could mean she may get her strength to escape. So there I left her, one eyed, dishevelled, on a beach, with a drunk. She looked content, he seemed happy to have something to love (and got 3 Euros out of me). What an emotional tether ball. I need to ponder what this was all about.

I am sure I am only one of the many tourists who do this regularly. My reaction to the cat has instilled a strong response from the local Veteranarian as well as an older Greek Athenian who noticed the cat. Their response to me, because I am an American, is that I have no perspective on suffering. Both brought up the fact that Americans have killed 100,000 innocent people and yet I am getting obsessed about this measly kitten.

Yes, this is true, but the way I see it is we all do what we can. I really couldn't have lived with myself if I ignored the kitten a second time, so here I am. And as far as the Iraq war is concerned, I don't support that and never have. I also don't have a hell of a lot of control over it. I told both men this and they were surprised. They were also surprised about my theories about George Bush, US Corporations, the world bank, Al Quaeda, 9/11 and the military industrial complex. They seemed a bit dazed at my ramblings but nodded with appreciation. The Athenian gave me his son's email address and wants me to get in touch with him.

Off to the island of Lesvos tomorrow, then Thailand next Monday.

A little comment on the Election

So I know I'm preaching to the converted and I'm well aware many of you will be out on the streets getting beaten and pepper sprayed as I'm happily sitting at a sweet internet Cafe on the Island of Mykonos, Greece, but I just have to express in a public way my disgust and outrage at the Elections.

For the last two years, as many of you know, I have been predicting this, that Bush would steal the election and voting is no longer a viable option in the United States, but the emotional reality has finally set in. It is gut wrenching, harsh, and terrifying on a personal and global scale because America has entered into Fascism and America rules the planet. Elections are now an irrelevant theater spectacle and the extreme right now has the world by the balls. I am walking around this beautiful island on a sunny warm day dispondent and depressed, sitting in Cafes that have the Greek news playing out the horrors of the American electoral process while locals shake their heads in disbelief. Are the Greeks thinking, "how can Americans vote for Bush again?" "How can they vote the Republicans into power in both the house and Senate." Or are they thinking "The election was fixed! If this was Greece, we would have revolution." In Hungary, when the Nazis eased out, and the Fascist Black Cross took over in the thirties, they did so by creating a fictitious election...it was fixed. Fixed elections are the crem de choice of Fascism and America has experienced it not once...but TWICE!!!!!!! How many more times will it take before US citizens realise this is not about elections any more, it's about the rise of totalitarianism and that the religious right will stop at nothing to gain global dominance.

Marching is great, getting arrested is fun, so is messing with the police, and some people even enjoy breaking windows. But it is ineffective. Totally ineffective when it comes to a power so great as the American Right. I had a great converstaion with Hilary at CESTA about this, and she had realized (after going to the RNC protest in September) that resistance movements at the moment are not working. So what is the answer? Perhaps the answer is divestment. Stop paying taxes, stop buying goods, stop consuming, Get an old diesel car and convert it to veg oil. Live simply, on very little, start to rely on your neighbors, your friends your community. We need to fundamentally rethink the way we are participating in this machine and how our actions, and those around us can change this in a realistic and concrete way. We need to be visionary. No more puppets, funny hats and protest signs!!! Let's get serious about how we can not give this totalitarian regime our resources and energy. We need to stop feeding the machine, stop greasing it, make it rust and decay to the point where it simply dies.

I'm sure I will piss people off with this post, but this is important to me. This is where I am at about the US.

I am in no state right now to make long term plans for the future as I am FREAKING OUT!!! But right now, I want to leave America all together and divest completely. Its future is antithetical to the sustainability of this glorious planet and its people. I fear the future with America in the drivers seat. I hope something radical is done by the American people to stop this from spiralling out of control and that this is the start of a wonderful process for global change.