I have been away for sometime, traveling down to Australia via Bangkok. Bangkok must be one of my favorite places in the world, Krung Thep the city of Angels, filled with contrasts. This time I went to Wat Traimit, the temple of the Golden Buddha. The whole temple has changed beyond recognition, a new building stands tall, housing the Golden Buddha on the fourth and final floor. It all seems cleaner somehow, streamlined.
The old temple had a number of slot machines in the entrance, with garish Buddhas inside that would read you your fortune for a few baht whilst lighting up with fairground lights. I remember feeling that it was a shame they were there as they made it all seem less magical and mythical, but somehow I missed them in the new temple.   The Buddha itself is perhaps not the most imposing you can see, but it is a beautiful metaphor for us all. Some time ago, the old temple was to be renovated and a crane was brought in to move the large cement buddha. When the crane lifted the Buddha, to everyones horror it cracked. They left the Buddha standing on the ground overnight, as the light was fading, and returned the next morning to inspect the damage. Through the cracks in the Buddha, a monk noticed a glimmering. It turned out that at some point in the long distant past the Golden Buddha was covered in cement to protect it from invaders. Maybe the original monks who did this were all killed and the secret died with them, but until the cement buddha broke, nobody had any idea that a solid gold buddha lay hidden beneath. The metaphor of course is that we all have a golden buddha inside us, and that no matter how bad things seem in our life, this is just the cement- shining through from within we have a golden being.

I got down to Sydney and slept through the day. Disappointed to miss daylight, I got up around 7pm and went down to reception, where I met a golden being. Ljuba, at least i think thats how her name was written, spent more than an hour talking to me in reception. The following day on departure she handed me a gift for my daughter which she had bought that morning. It came with a note explaining that it was to help restore my faith in humanity. Ljuba saw me in a very low state, jetlagged, lonely, and far from home, and she did exactly what she had intended to do. She restored my faith in humanity.
Now  am back in the UK and I send out thoughts of peace and love to the other side of the world, to Ljuba and her family and to all the other golden beings that inhabit our planet. Peace and Love.

14th February 2010

I have the great fortune of being in Nevada for a few days, staying in the Hilton in Las Vegas. Before coming here I manage to convince myself that I will go in to a few casinos and place some bets, just for the fun of it, but as soon as I arrive I see that this is just a no go area for me. The energy inside the casinos is rank, dirty and stilted. So much dashed hope and last chances, so many people convinced that they will walk away rich, walking away dejected and poor. The lobby lights and the noise of the countless one-armed bandits dazzles me and disorientates. I cannot stay in the city.
The people with me seem surprised when i explain that I will be heading out into the desert. Nobody wants to come along so I rent a car and head off alone to the Valley of Fire national park.
Its funny but I knew I had to go no matter how many obstacles are placed in my path. I’m not comfortable driving alone, but there is no question about going, so I ask about car rentals in the hotel. Being valentines day of course they have nothing in my price range, but I find a cheap deal online and head to the airport where I get upgraded to a large red SUV pickup truck. Don’t ask me the make as these things mean nothing to me, but the colour seemed apt for going to the Valley of Fire. They have no map for me but point me north for the Valley of Fire and despite my trepidation I set off.
The drive takes me through vast expanses devoid of pretty much anything. Small scrublike bushes grow, but I see little trace of animal life, yet I feel like I am being called. Suddenly it is there before me. The majestic rocks errupt onto the landscape a violent red colour, and I ‘see’ that this is a place of deep spiritual power.
My first stop is at Atlatl rock, where a crude metal staircase helps those less able to access  3000 year old petroglyphs. According to the Pueblo people, these were carved by Spirits at a time when spirit and man cohabited the planet. I wonder what spirit would make of the  staircase.
I decide to circle the rock and head into some of the canyons behind. There are no trails here, no people and the only noise I hear is the sound of the birds, the fast movements of lizards startled on the ground ahead of me, and the wind rustling in the bushes. The deeper I head into the canyons, the greener it becomes, and the ground becomes damp underfoot. The walls are replete with caves and I meander through, past coyote and bighorn droppings until i can go no further. Here I stop, and take out my rattle.
I call to the Spirits of place to beg forgiveness if my presence and way of working offends them. I know it is alien to these parts but it is authentic to me. The birds reply with messages of encouragement. I call to my own ancestor spirits to join me, to rejoice in the raw beauty of the place, and I feel cleansed.
Some time later in the day I come across even more petroglyphs, on a well trod trail. I rattle and sing to the ancestral spirits that carved on the rocks, and ask them for help in understanding the meanings behind what they carved. Groups of tourists pass and stare as I chant and rattle. They quiet briefly but as soon as I am out of sight they revert back to noise. Loud and brash they cut through the air. It seems I am in the minority in seeing and treating this as a sacred site, to be respected. So, they come and sit with me, and I feel them around me. They lead me to the symbol of infinity carved again and again in a line, next to two horned figures. They tell me we are all the same, we all come from the same place and we all go to the same place, and that they are happy I am there.
I stop for lunch and a biker comes up to me. “Do you want me to draw you a map?” he asks. He sits and draws me a map, tells me where to go for sunset. Before leaving he turns to me and tells me his name is Michael. As he walks away I wonder if he was really there or not.
As the sun begins to lower in the sky I climb higher and higher up through the rocks, carrying my guitar, drum and rattle with me. I reach giddy heights where I am forced to cling on carefully as the wind howls round me. Finally I reach the summit, the cave where I am meant to be.
I drum to power, calling in the directions, asking for a blessing and for the ancestors,both mine and of the land, to come and witness my work. The drum surprises me as it carries so far. In the distance I see small figures looking up trying to locate the source of the sound. I sit and dedicate my music to the sacred site. I play and am joined by an eagle, which comes close and shrieks its story, which becomes mine. We play and sing together till darkness sets. I close my circle and work my way down the hills, confident that I will be ok going down as they are truly with me now, and I am blessed. 

In Bangkok, the city with so many names, it is easy to get lost, to slip in between worlds and discover something we did not even know we had lost. The scenic Bangkok Noi reveals hidden wonders at every turn of the canal, spectacular temples replete with saffron garbed monks- we revel in the sound of their chanting.
My favourite name for Bangkok is Krung Thep, city of Angels, as it always feels to me as if the sense of divine is palpable in parts of it.
My pilgrimage here takes me not to any of the major temples, but to a street shrine of the Hindu God Ganesh that I have visited for years. It is curious how there are always so many offerings here as well as people praying. It is unlikely that they are Hindus as the Hindu population of Thailand is tiny, but from conversations with fellow pilgrims it seems that they too realise that God may come in many shapes and sizes but is ultimately the same.
We place an offering of flowers and chocolate at the shrine and light incense sticks as we chant to Ganesh
OM GUM GANAPATA YEI NAMAHA

Apparently this mantra is meant to help remove obstacles from our lives, and indeed our journey back to Europe is remarkably stress free.
Thailand has offered a golden opportunity to recharge and prepare for the coming challenges of 2010. With sincere gratitude to the land of smiles, we say
Santiphap Le kwamra

Its been a while since I've updated this, mainly because I have been floored by the flu. I'm much better now and am back on my travels around the world. This time I have had the wonderful opportunity to play guitar in the botanical gardens next to Sydney harbour in Australia. My audience comprised mainly of grey headed flying foxes, giant furry bats that congregate in their hundreds in the trees where I stopped to play. I was in the Cadi Jam Ora part of the gardens, the exhibit marking the first encounters between the aboriginal people of Australia and the colonizers. The Sydney harbour basin has always been a sacred site to the largely displaced aboriginals, and it seemed fitting to sit and play in the small area dedicated to their history and culture. Other than the digeridoos for sale in the gift shops, in all likelihood imported from Bali and sold as genuine articles for exhorbitant prices,  there was little sign of the aboriginal people anywhere else I went.  Looking at the botanical gardens website I see it is now possible to take a 'tour' with an aboriginal guide. Definitey worth considering for the next trip.
So my music was heard by the spirits of place, the ancestor spirits of both colonizer and colonized, the trees and plant spirits, and the sea, ever present, quiet and yet imposing.

I am writing this because on the 26th of October I am due to operate on BA 065 to Nairobi and will of course be visiting Nyumbani Orphanage. I already have 3 suitcases of clothes to take down with me as well as an envelope with some money, but was hoping some of you might be willing to contribute to the Nyumbani fund. I  guarantee any monies sent through me will go directly to Nyumbani orphanage and am more than willing to provide individual receipts as always should you require them.

The latest news from Nyumbani is:

More than 400 people currently live in our village, over 350 children and 50 'grandparents'. Solar powered boreholes have been set up making the village self sustainable for water. Crop and animal farming is developing well but there are real challenges to be faced in making this community truly self-sustainable. An extensive building programme has started, which not only helps to expand our sustainability project but has also provided 300 local jobs to the surrounding villages, helping to spread wealth and goodwill.A family of 4 children were found by social services, living off little more than wild berries They have been recently relocated to the village ad are settling in well.

Kenya is experiencing severe water shortages with the ongoing drought. Both the village and Nyumbani orphanage have own boreholes so have managed ok, but the outreach project Lea Toto has been affected-it is common to see people queuing for hours for their gallon of water. There has also been an increase in food prices as a direct result of the drought.

Of the 105 children living at Nyumbani, 100 are currently on anti-retroviral medication  (ARVs) and they seem to be responding well to this. Following the tragic passing of Sammy last year who became drug resistant there is a real fear that more children could develop resistance, and there are not enough funds to increase the variety of ARVs for the children ( currently there are 3 different types of medication the children are given).

For more information please go to www.nyumbani.org
or in Spanish http://amigosdenyumbani.blogspot.com/


The bank account details for Nyumbani are listed below for those of you who would like to make a donation. Alternatively, cheques can be  made out in my name and sent to

Adam Hearn
8 Alma Terrace
Calne
SN11 0HN
Wiltshire

Any cheques I receive will be cashed, and together with any cash I get given, will be delivered so long as I receive them before the 26th October- if sending me a cheque please let me know in case it does not arrive so i can give them the money anyway and pay it into my account when i get back. I can guarantee every penny will get there (and then some) and am happy to provide receipts!

My own nyumbani account:

Account details for Nyumbani in the UK:
sort code: 40-52-40 Account: 00012571 Name: Nyumbani UK Limited
charity number 1072191

In Spain
NOMBRE DEL TITULAR/CUENTA CORRIENTE:Amigos de Nyumbani
IBAN: ES67 2095 0577 8091 0882 0005
BIC: BASKES28XXX (NO SE PARA QuE SIRVE, JUST IN CASE)
 
EL NOMBRE DE LA CAJA DE AHORROS ES : BILBAO BIZKAIA KUTXA
 

Thank you all for your support in really making a difference. If you have the time and  would like to go and visit Nyumbani please do let me know as it would be lovely to share tips, photos and memories!
If you are making a donation on a regular basis then please let me know as my aim is still to sign up 1000 people this year, in order to provide a substantial difference to a load of kids who deserve a chance, and its nice to have a record of how many more I need to achieve this aim!
Bestwishes,

Adam

4th of October, second public healing performance, this time spontaneous. I visit the village of Romainmôtier-Envy, Switzerland, and its 11th century monastery.
This time I am moved to sit and play my guitar. I play, sing and find my voice is joined by a chorus of others- the voices of my friends who are with me, but also, interestingly, the voices of strangers who happen to come inside. People come up to us afterwards, each thanking us for a moving experience. One lady tells us she was moved to tears at one point, a man asks us to come to his wedding to provide healing voices of peace and love in the chapel as his marriage takes place. We are all moved by something bigger than us. It is at this point, sitting outside the monastery in the sunshine, that I realise I need to do this. If this feels like it might be the right thing for you then I would urge you to take up your instruments and be part of a music and healing revolution in your own sacred sites. I look forward to making healing music with you.