Who says the world isn’t a friendly place? Having lived in thirteen countries on five continents, we met kind and wonderful people everywhere. You don’t even need to speak the same language to become good friends.

When we were stationed in Kampala, Uganda, I had two neighbors. On my right was an East Indian couple. The wife could only speak her native tongue so we never could never really talk to each other. I had not yet learned how to play bridge or tennis so was at home a lot. We would wave to each other and we would go to each others’ homes and usually ended up in the kitchen teaching and cooking for each other. She had a big kitchen but completely without furniture, so we sat on the floor on straw mats. On one side of the kitchen there was a huge stack of shelves divided by many little cabinets where she kept her Indian spices to make curry. She also had a heavy stone mortar and pestle. I realized then that curry powder was a little different in each Indian home, depending on the cook’s choice of ingredients. She would mix a little of this and a little of that and throw it in the mortar and then with her pestle she would pound it into powder for the delicious curry she was preparing that day. Certainly not the same as buying curry paste or powder in a bottle! She taught me how to make Naan, and Puri and Indian deserts. We had a wonderful time gesturing and laughing. Some days she would come to my house and I would show her how to use my Chinese cleaver to slice and dice the ingredients that go into Chinese cooking. I even showed her how to make Chinese spring roll skins. We would leave my kitchen in one big mess which did not make John, my houseboy, very happy. This lasted for over two years; I have not forgotten her and I am sure she thinks of me when cooking Chinese meals.

On our left was an American couple who also worked for the Embassy. One summer their son, Danny, who was 17 years old, came to visit. We became good friends immediately. When the men went to the Embassy, Danny would come over and visit me. He had rented a beautiful Harley Davidson for his means of transportation. One day he took me for a ride. At 75 mph, I felt that my head would fall off or I would lose all my hair. It was scary but lots of fun. I had a brand new gold convertible Corvair, and when I went shopping I would put the top down, and Danny would ride his cycle behind me acting as my security guard. Everyone would stop to stare at us, which we found very amusing. When Kasalina, the nanny for my two small children, Jeffrey and Leslie, had to take the day off, Danny would come over and be their baby sitter. He was always so patient with them, playing hide and seek, riding Leslie’s tricycle, making funny faces and joking until the kids would be giggling with delight. Of course Danny left when the summer was over to go back to the USA to begin college.

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On November 19, 2009, I was interviewed by Dr. Zara F. Larsen. She leads The Larsen Group: Architects of Change in Tucson, AZ (zara.larsen@thelarsengroup.com). She interviews dozens of interesting people from all walks of life, sharing their experiences and philosophies with her listeners. You can listen to the original audio of my interview and others by going to Zara’s webpage at www.TheLarsenGroup.com.

I am providing the original audio along with many photographs from our family albums below. These videos are indexed (along with others about my book) on YouTube.com, so please feel free to tell your friends about them and have them leave their comments here or at YouTube.com.

Enjoy the interview below (in 4 parts due to technical requirements).

Part 1

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When I was a very young boy I used to go with my two best friends to the Jersey shore. We would often dig big holes in the sand hoping they would eventually take us to China.

Many years later, I was in Washington, D.C. anxiously awaiting an overseas assignment. The word of mouth came that it was Taipei, which I had never heard of. I anxiously pulled out a map and finally located it on Formosa, which I later learned meant beautiful island, so named by the Portuguese when they occupied it hundreds of years ago.

The trip started from San Francisco on Philippine Airlines. The airliner was a propeller driven DC-6, very slow by jet-age standards. Each leg lasted 12 or 13 hours. First stop was Hawaii, followed by Wake Island then Guam and finally landing in Manila. From Manila we boarded an old C-47 single engine puddle jumper that had to land for refueling on a dirt strip carved out of the jungle on the northernmost island of the Philippine Archipelago.

We finally hopped to Taipei, where I was met at the airport. I did not have to go through customs or immigration and my passport came back with a permanent entry chop. Then we left immediately for my lodging.

It was to be temporarily in a large old Japanese-style guesthouse with many rooms and a number of hot sulfur baths, the sulfur water constantly flowing in through bamboo pipes from natural sources farther up the hill in Peitou. About a dozen single American men, working for Western Enterprise Incorporated were staying there temporarily. Western Enterprises, as it was know in Taipei, was actually a CIA front.

An elderly Chinese man was in charge of our daily needs. We had our meals at a round table with a large lazy-susan in the center, Chinese style. I did not know how to use chopsticks but was determined to learn so I wouldn’t starve to death. I did not dare let go of the chopsticks throughout the meal and did manage to eat some of the delicious food. After several more attempts, I finally learned how to hold them after staining several of my new shirts.

I enjoyed the many strange sounds from the street, blind masseuses, vegetable vendors, knife and scissor sharpeners, noodle vendors, etc, each with his own distinct call or noise maker. Fascinating for a young, very naïve traveler like me.

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