Death stares me in the face. Nothing new there, we’re all going to die and sooner than we want. What do we leave? Most of us leave little behind. Our hopes, dreams, and things we wanted to accomplish, mostly fade with our friend’s poor memories. If unrecorded, that is. It is a challenge to leave something for the next generations. Whether it helps them, it may at least entertain.
Be True to Dr. Memoir-y. This blog is a first stab at that.
My face is the me of 1975, in Afghanistan. I had just hitchhiked across North Africa from the Atlantic coast of Morocco to Egypt. Then I worked in the copper mines of the Negev Desert for a little scratch, before making my way through the Middle East on a pilgrimage to Nepal.