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More Christmas gift I ever had

"Whatever we do, the environment should be the centerpiece"

Wangari Maathai, Nobel Peace Prize Nobel

Prologue

Most of us involved in the way of the capitalist economy to live beyond our budget environment. Our buildings consume more materials, air conditioning our energy and our resources more cars than any human being can justify an environmental report.

It is a question of ego tribal motor. Most of us succumb to the ego of an addiction darker and common humanity - the accumulation of money and showing more sheer ability to consume in a desperate attempt to demonstrate the "value".

Like the addict, addicts to make money as necessary to meet the needs.

In the absence of basic human values, a value becomes a numbers game, consuming more of our land resources that anyone can rationalize. The more money into the financial credit card, plus the ability eating, feeding the ego hurt a greater need than cocaine. Traffickers most ruthless money just flexing its wealth material - which complicates things, millions of people continue to block Thorsten Veblen in a frenzy of conspicuous consumption prove "myself."

There is nothing wrong with money, unless someone on what can be done at the expense of workers, customers and the environment. We have all the money in the world, but do not buy the position of human decency or the balance of the environment.

Who does not fight, condemns the excessive use of both our species and our planet. Elegant understatement is the key our survival as a species.

Labour conference rooms in Hawaii, learned he is not required to be ruthless predators ego determined to succeed. My heroes of the company had a big heart and low use resources on earth. They found that honey attracts more flies than vinegar, and hard-ass managers are simply hide their incompetence. Coincidentally, spent more time giving away money that did it.

As this cartoon shows, there are more ways to measure the value of money.

"Best Christmas gift I ever had."

In trading days, the times were lean. Holiday school me and my backpack found hitchhiking on a trip somewhere accessible from LA In the quarter system, winter holidays UCLA have been nearly a month, time to hitch a ride deep into Mexico.

I had only $ 50 and a backpack filled peanut butter to last a month, and I wanted to see how far I could go to south. Twelve pesos to the dollar, and I could not live forever in peanut butter, and steaming hot corn tortillas directly from Tortillaria village. Each city has a tortillaria, but it's a pleasure to find a city with a clay oven banana bread. It comes every hour on the hour, everything is fine when I can breathe the steam two slices immediately - Without butter, jam or a knife - just things, and broke da mouth Brah "I learned to say later in Hawaii. Until a poor Students can live eternally in the banana bread and peanut butter tortillas.

On the outskirts of Mazatlan, I have a ride a truck driver all the way to Mexico. I could be there one day, then a fishing village on the coast south of Acapulco exuberant.

We stopped at a red light, two hours south of Mazatlan. A stand of oysters has been out of the car. I could almost reach the window and take some oysters, but I have a phobia of seafood throughout the food, courage and all. No matter how chef oysters Rockefeller, creatures viscous continue to be without substance.

For some unknown reason, decided to try these molluscs. On an impulse I gave up my trip, said thank you, I took my backpack, and jumped from the cab stand oysters.

The light turns green. My friend gave me a last gesture, he said goodbye and disappeared into a cloud of dust. What was thinking? It was my trip to Mexico.

I turned and grabbed an oyster platter. How stupid. I give one of the best rides of my life to discover the oysters were from Mexico the same as their cousins in California. It is Rocket Science!

I surveyed the surroundings, a traffic light intersection of Highway A, the artery Main West Coast of Mexico. It was continental - I had no interest. However, it was the road to the west coast. A cord Extension literally ran by stakes driven into the ground beside the road that winds up where I could see. The length is seldom this device so weak, so I asked the dealer history oysters.

I learned that there was a village fishing 40 miles from the order. The extension cord, which carry electricity to the village, and the lights were planned for brighten up the city for the first time on Christmas Eve, nearly a week away.

What kind of Christmas holidays! I went to three villages at the time of electrification now, but it was my first. This could be a real adventure, turned right and pulled the thumb on a road with little traffic. The road has visited several agricultural villages on the road - not much traffic and all stops short. I have been an imposing and not in my late 20s - Rugby-shaped, nearly two meters, with hair of my size and beard almost as far. On campus, the beautiful women I said they were jealous of my long hair and shiny. In fact, I was a scruffy mountain man than a fashion statement, and when I stop the Mexican coast was always Jesus Christ or Santa Claus for the locals!

It took a half-dozen trips through the flat agricultural country to reach the final map. Each driver has an unusual hitchhiker where he went. Whenever I said I was only following the extension cable. Their faces lit - Oh, you go to the village which will power the evening Christmas!

It was big news in this district.

I finally reached the city. Not much. Green fields stretched behind the town, built around a town square stern headed by a beach and an estuary where the road ended and began fishing boats.

This place was as simple as that - and there was another American. PhD anthropologist at Texas A candidate has been completed a study of six months. He chose the perfect people for inshore fishing school, and later discovered it was mainly agricultural. Not realize it, but the bad Spanish speaker highbrow university was seen by villagers as a kind of buffoon, and have always been playing with her studies, to answer his "observations" with jokes and stories in ridiculous. Instead of staying for an event truth anthropology - the electrification of the community in the study - are headed our anthropologist future home for Christmas dinner. Villagers shot him politely but silently questioning his academic commitment.

Instinctively, camped on the beach 200 meters village, and passing the house of the boat captain shrimp every day. The richest man and most powerful in the village, with the largest "home" directly on the beach, the captain had a barrel full of dried shrimp to the table in the walled courtyard, and a lot of warm beer. On my third day, I invited to drink beer and shrimp, a ritual we enjoyed every night for the next three weeks.

Soon students Guadalajara and Mexico City joined us. I heard news of modern Mexico in the 70s, children of farmers go to college to train engineers, teachers, doctors and pharmacists, to see the benefits of "clean water" projects that had been fifteen years earlier.

Forty years after Pancho Villa, Mexico has been growing, Thanks for the adventures of my family, I lived bottom of the late 50s. Now, the first generation of profits outside the University - my drinking friends.

The scene was still very traditional in Mexico. The captain got a real decline in its sponsorship of the Gringo. In its adobe walls, we are seated at a large solid wood table with beer non-stop and box of shrimp. Through the court, women of the family sitting in the kitchen door to decide if it was Santa or Jesus. In this patriarchal rural culture, women were light years ahead of the liberation of women. I wondered if his UCLA sisters understand the difference between the two neighboring worlds, or appreciated their own incredible opportunities in California progressive society.

I still had a good time, flirting from afar on 20 and some of my generation understand that, as far as we go.

Anthropologist was the major theme of the patio table. The students were very happy to tell stories of scientific leaders in the dusty roads of zero hand, for sites of "great importance" as absurd invented agriculture and fishing techniques and humorous stories strategies to attract teenagers to the era of a new society. They checked the innocent anthropologist had no idea his antics tongue in cheek.

University Children Worth in the world has a link that shows the top innocent playfulness and creativity, especially in a rural village in Mexico still without electricity.

When my new friends that I learned is Los Angeles or Hollywood he was asked if he knew Tom Jones, Englebert Humperdink and Carlos Santana. It is not surprising - these three were the stars of Mexican pop culture the day. I photograph Carlos on stage during a concert of agriculture workers united, and took my pictures every time the classical hitchhiking Mexico, both front and arm packed stadium in arm with Cesar Chavez. Boys went crazy, and certainly gained acceptance in society local - no Bonehead anthropologist here.

But Tom Jones and Englebert Humperdink?

Certainly, storage, and then came the great day - on Christmas Eve.

A series of 20 very simple light bulbs hanging from a chain of outlets and cables Electrical hung around the town square. Although it has been the main town in the last quarter of the road, the town was not yet complete, but the appointees day sitting in the square for hours before total darkness, waiting to turn lights.

The University of the children gathered on the beach and enjoys a beautiful sunset, passing around bottles of beer donated by thin shrimp boat captain. They went to school in Guadalajara and had seen it all before.

As the last red disappeared from the horizon, went to the site. Obviously, everybody was there. As the last light of day fell in the darkness, the mayor reversed the switch, and the place back to life. Unlike college girls, most villagers had never left his village and had never seen incandescent light. When it happened - in an instant - a universal sigh of energy instead. The lights were certainly not brilliant glazes.

Someone started to walk around in counterclockwise Square. Each member of the ambulance people, including I soon reached. It was fantastic. I was a head taller than anybody else, and his hair was sufficient to cover all other combined, so I looked through a sea of hats that we all move in the same direction.

When I tired of walking in a circle, it was time to play Santa Claus. I put a red shirt, red cap of the population a lacquered box and white bag.

When I was in Mexico for Christmas Eve, I bought all the candy wrapped Penny I could find. Armed with long hair and beard white hat and a red shirt and a bag of 10 kilograms of sweets on his shoulder, I went into another square Mexican people every 70 years Christmas Eve. The script always rules.

The village children see pictures of Santa, but never a real Santa Claus in vivo.

When I went in a town square and start to distribute candy, the children have grown naturally ordered for about one minute. All children under 12 years could feel the soft, the first and gave me a snack at a time, put a candy in his hand and smile on his brain. I was soon surrounded by a sea of jumping, screaming, laughing children. At that time, I got in the bag, grabbed a handful and started throwing candy and beads of rain (which wrapped candy only.) The scene has become a madhouse of laughter as children took the fresh air flying dove or more of the sweet ending to the ground.

Then, the most intelligent children know where the wine sweet. The children will begin entering the bag arms and legs to my shoulder. I continued to take and throwing sweets up to three children clinging to each arm, praying it would run out of candy before I swarmed by a sea of children laughing and crying! Santa Claus Santa Claus! Finally, they've always been overwhelmed and I collapsed in a sea of excited children.

It was great. What better way to celebrate the positive and Christmas - much better than any meal of turkey, calm and pleasant for those seen only once a year.

This time, a real life Santa appeared in the village, on the same night the electric lights. What a miracle, perhaps more to me than the city kids!

Christmas morning was hotter than hell, a great day for the first rock concert in town, with a band concert Rock N 'Roll.

Well, almost a band. They do not speak English, but has a brave attempt to memorize words. We do not talk about music, but made a valiant attempt to. The group was far from being the big concerts California Flower Power 60s and 70s, but gave them points for trying even a band in these regions.

Never forget their performance of "Tom Jones She's A Lady, by far the worst piece of music that I heard - but one of the best memories.

The group formed in the side of a shop, dance was a way the earth, and the group earns money by running a rope across the dance floor every few songs. When the dancers from the rope, which has paid weight. About a dozen of us girls sat colleges coconut palms in a restaurant past the hat every half hour to buy a fine beer take a sip, and pass it on. Our only problem was finding model of the collection string so I can dance without pay.

Half later, two major Winnebago crossed the village square, with all the bells and whistles. They were both mounted on the scooter front bumper and dragging the small outboard boats. It was a shock. No village had seen anything like this, so they were very excited. I had a feeling sinister - Central America could mud far perfect Christmas. Campers have continued to the estuary and that's where I hoped they would stay.

Teams just do not seem to meet with local inhabitants, and it was a very special Christmas.

An hour later, the Louisiana rednecks invaded our Christmas party. They came almost comical fashion, a large torque overweight, middle-aged in each bike. Spouses are in progress, certainly drunk, laughing their wives in the passenger seat while driving to the part of the structure of the corkscrew, reeling several times.

The first cycle leads straight through the center of the dancers, where he crashed in the middle of the dance floor. How large, usually redneck, totally embarrassing entry. Remember that this demographic is the basis of Bush policy. Right now, "W" was a fraternity boy alcoholic to avoid the National Guard while Nixon was the spread of the Vietnam War as long as possible.

Despite his scandalous behavior, educated Mexican farmers bent to help drunk drivers, who approached yelling about how the dancers to his way. Rejecting the hand, the couple stood up, dusted off and left his bike on the ground in the middle of the dance floor, a fuel leak on the ground. The husband began to cry dancers make their way to clear an open space to dance without tripping over his own bike. Is extracted from Hollyweird, except that this scene was tragically real.

When the wine online, drunken husband came across the line without realizing its purpose. When the Director said that the gestures, the billionaire took out a wad of bills from his pocket and shouted: "I have all the money in the world, but I will not pay a dollar this shit music. "Then he met a couple of politely trying to ignore it.

They were loud, rude, spoke of South and the guy was literally a red collar, arrogant people, ignorant people who voted for Bush from the White House and were stupid enough to re-elect him. It was one of those moments that make decent people ashamed to be American, she slipped on the bench in the shade, trying to be invisible.

We had our own "hat", has bought another fine beer and I took my drink. It would take more a sip of beer in order to reduce the discomfort created by my countrymen.

Then I saw the Redneck. It was motionless in his tricks, he stopped dancing and went straight to our table with his fists clenched, arms swinging like a certain cartoon Porky. I never said a word and tried to ignore it, but does not work. He walked in coconut leaves, directly on the table from me. I was pleased table between us. I was 28, playing rugby national championship, and he became a drunkard short, fat middle-aged. I did not be forced into a physical confrontation from one side to Christmas.

"You know what you fucking hippie? Just do not fuck money. "

"It's Christmas." I replied. "We can relax and have a good time. Where are you? "

Mr. Redneck turned to me. "I am a Louisiana oil billionaire and I know that money is everything. You fucking hippies even dog shit - - - simply because they do not care about money. "

All the boys sitting on University the wooden table, six on each side. While the red neck harassed me, my friends asked in Spanish, "You are both Americans. Why make an issue for you? "

Rural Mexicans are too polite to consider such behavior.

As I explained that all Americans are not the same, Mr. Red Neck shouted: "Hey Hippie, I'm talking about. You do not give a shit money. "

"Listen, I'm a scholarship student at UCLA, and I worry about money, but not all, and it's Christmas. Relax and Let these people enjoy their holidays. "

Damn Hippie, everything is money. "

The shameful neglect began Redneck to annoy me, but not in a physical manner. It's Christmas, and I just wanted people to enjoy the biggest day in its history.

I replied: "Money can buy material things, but can not buy the most important things in life, like love."

"Want to bet?" Honey, come here. "He took the arm of his wife, pulled her close to him, looked into my eyes and said: "The insurance money can buy love," Mr. Redneck. "Is not it honey!" Woman squeezing her shame so strong over I am worried about the shoulder could pop his head up. I was really sorry and embarrassed for her.

"Well, maybe money can buy what you think is love, but money probably can not buy friendship. "

"Oh, really?" Said Louisiana. "Look at this."

"Beer for everyone in the house! "Mr. Millionaire gallantly waved his arm across the table, like a magic wand.

It was a clever ploy. The day was warm, the table was full of young male students, and we were so poor there was only one bottle small beer on the table - empty. We were all in the heat of perspiration, and cold beer at Christmas for each student heaven.

I was ready to play the peacemaker. If this man bought a round for everyone could be silent and to satisfy our thirst.

He said in Spanish, "Come on, guys, forget this idiot, take this opportunity to enjoy this gentle tug a cold beer."

I was surprised when all the heads shaking "no".

In Spanish I explained: "Everyone wants a beer cool. We all know that this guy is an idiot, he will not change our friendship if you enjoy a beer. "

Long is still facing nodded to them.

"Well, guys, come in a Christmas beer.

Nothing worked. Then, in perfect English, I've never heard of the previous week, an engineering student replied. "Hey, gringo. I not really matter how much money you have, but you have offended our friends - not good enough to drink with us in the first place!

"We do not want your millionaire beer. "

Mr Redneck was in shock. Like many rich and powerful, who bought a comfort zone for pimps who really do not want your friendship, but were willing to brown-nose of your money. To do this, they sold their friendship and their dignity. This is a common clique, bumps and its drivers the confidence "to" say what you want to hear.

Even in this small village electrified poor in Mexico less than 24 hours earlier, Mr. Millionaire finally met people so proud they could not be purchased.

He looked at his wife and said, "Sweetheart Come, Let's Get Outta Here". Gathered and the other couple Both bikes have been removed from the game and return to the estuary.

An hour later, two Winnebago driven out of the city.

The integrity of the simple villagers refuse a cold beer on a hot day which left me with a feeling of friendship and character not always money can buy. To date, there is a Christmas far more important than any material gift

I stayed in the village for ten days, until school started again in Guadalajara. Each evening, the boys of the University went to the Plaza to see the people walking around the fountain until midnight.

It has always been left, but the boys University, at least, everyone knew that once electricity arrived, there was no turning back.

# # # # #

A decade later, he attended Fortune 500 meeting rooms, not in Louisiana, but in Honolulu. Hawaiian shirts, no suits and ties are standard dress, and management practices are professionals - perhaps more. At least until I went into Alohaland 1989 typical power play crazy hard ass had no chance of becoming director of a company based in Hawaii (except for Harry Weinburg, who bought its way through the Alexander & Baldwin Board of Directors.)

My clients high success had money to burn, but never bought a friend. Filled with Aloha Spirit, did not have to.

About the Author

John "Caveman" Gray, AKA Ling Yai (Thai for Big Monkey)was first published nationally in the USA in 1957 in Parade Magazine. He's been writing, photographing and producing videos ever since. His stories have appeared in numerous national and international magazines and newspapers on everything from Science to politics and travel. You can catch many more stories in the "Readings" section at www.johngray-seacanoe.com

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