ON THE NINTH FLOOR

Washington, D.C.
The Jefferson and Lincoln Memorial.
The Washington Monument.
And Sibley Hospital.
I was told by my accompanying psychiatrist and the Peace Corps nurse that I would be here only for observation.
That sounded ominous to me, but I smiled my acknowledgement (certainly not my approval.)
I signed some papers (I guess to give permission to everyone to do anything that they wanted or had to do to me).
I said goodbye to the nurse and Mr. Psychiatrist.
In London he had asked me to tell him what some riddles meant to me: A Rolling Stone Gathers No Moss; People Who Live In Glass Houses Shouldn't Throw Stones; and others I forget).
I don't know if I gave him the correct answers.
But apparently not.
I "checked in" at Sibley.
I was on the Ninth Floor, which is (I guess) the traditional floor on which psychiatric patients stay.
I sat down in a room with a jolly fellow named Sarge.
He asked:
"Why are you here."
I said that I didn't know.
Sarge said:
"You'll be out of here in no time."
I soaked in a bath, and then took a shower.
I was on one side of the ninth floor where IN/OUT patients had rooms.
On the other side were patients who were too dangerous to have permission to leave their side of the floor or to leave the hospital.
Remember the movie One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest with Jack Nicholson?
I did the same thing that Jack did: I pretended to swallow my medication, but then threw it down the toilet.
My medication was called Thorazine and it made me feel terrible.
So I stopped taking it.
But that didn't stop the public announcements TO COME AND TAKE YOUR MEDICATION.
I met some interesting people.
I met a relative of William Faulkner (a niece I think).
Then there was lawyer employed by the U.S. government.
He said that his insurance paid for him to come here, and he came to meet and talk to interesting people. He said it was like a vacation for him.
One of my neighbors had tried to commit suicide.
I never asked why.
I believe her name was Karen Johnson.
She told me that she had just interviewed the actor Robert Blake for Playboy magazine.
She and I went on a walk one day.
We were planning to go see the movie Coma, but we never made it.
We got lost.
We did stop for a brief visit at the national headquarters of N.O.R.M.L. (National Organization to Reform Marijuana Laws).
The director asked me if I wanted some herbal tea (no...not that kind), but I said no.
She walked to the back with the director.
As I looked out the big window of the office, I watched as a plainclothes policeman took out a police dog from the back of his truck.
They didn't come into the office.
Karen and I finally left, and returned to the hospital.
Another time I took a walk with a very sweet elderly woman.
I think she told me the same thing as the lawyer: she came here to relax!
It was hard to believe!
She told me that Michael Fox lived next to her.
Not Michael J. Fox.
This Michael Fox wrote books about cats.
Anyway, I went with her to a restaurant.
I remember that I ordered a Reuben sandwhich and some kind of mixed drink.
When we finished our lunch, she had to go somewhere else, and so I caught a bus to return to Sibley.
I remember that the Denver Broncos were playing in the SuperBowl (1978).
A radio on the bus had the game on.
Suddenly, I felt horribly sick, and needed to get off of the bus.
I asked the bus driver to stop because I was about to throw up.
He did, and I immediately did so in some bushes.
I was quickly released from Sibley Hospital when I started turning yellow from the Hepatitis that I had.
If you ever want to get out of a psychiatric ward quickly just get hepatitis.
I went to my mother's home to recover from my Hepatitis and to gain some weight from her home cooking.
But I liked my 32'' waist so much that I didn't want to eat too well.
One day I visited a friend in a hospital.
But she was in the hospital to have her appendix removed.
In her room the TV was on and at a low volume, but I could still hear Walter Cronkite say in his indelible voice:
"Today President Daud, president of Afghanistan, was killed..."
Mr. Cronkite also announced the suicide of Freddy Prince.
It was Afghanistan's first coup which made Russia feel it was necessary to intervene and invade.

CRICKET X-RAYS RABIES AND WARM BEER

I walked down into what seemed to be an arboretum of some sort.
It was fenced off from the rest of the city and was a like an enormous bowl.
I gradually climbed up and out of this wildwood, and found myself on the front yard of a church where some boys were playing cricket.
I saw a hose and asked if I could get some water, and did.
Then a boy asked if I wanted to play and I said "No".
I kept walking and the sun was setting.
I saw a large house and for some reason went to it.
I knocked and was invited in.
I explained that I was lost, that a wild dog had bitten me, and was now fearful that I might get rabies.
A woman who seemed to be the owner of the house listened to my story.
I forget what she said.
Another person brought me a plate with popcorn and a hot dog, but this food didn't appeal to my nonexistent appetite.
My journey from this point becomes a blank spot.
The next moment that I remember is when I saw the Peace Corps nurse who was with another man, and with whom I would fly to Washington D.C. after a stopover in London.
They got me some new clothes.
On the flight to London I was given valium, but even it didn't help me sleep.
I still didn't have much of an appetite, and I don't remember what I drank.
I did have a small taste of a warm beer in a pub in London, but didn't like it.

A short digression:
An amazing thing happened.
(I believe this happened right after I was "rescued" by the Peace Corps nurse and her companion.)
I ended up being taken to the very same medical clinic which I had accidentally found on one of my nights of walking around in India!
Inside my room a nun brought me a Gideon Bible which I still have.
The delivery of the Holy Book made me believe that I might be nearer to death than I really believed.
In this small clinic I was X-Rayed by the oldest X-Ray machine on earth.
It wasn't a speedy exposure.
It was noisy, too.
I think it took about 2 or 3 minutes for the X-Ray to stop...after sputtering like an old car when its ignition is turned off.
After this I was given the entire series of Rabies shots.
The shots were given in my abdomen, and man did they sting.
As I started getting pricked by one more needle I started thinking that I shouldn't have been so worried that my biting dog was rabid.

The plane landed in Washington, D.C.
And a new adventure was about to begin.

SORE SOLES

I was soon back in New Delhi.
I left my shoes back in the countryside.
Now I had only a shirt and pants on.
At some point I had even lost my dark sunglasses.
My feet were cut and very sore from walking.
Even though I didn't have any money, I walked into a brightly-lit pharmacy, and showed the person working behind the counter my bleeding feet.
He just shook his head when I couldn't produce any money.
I walked a few blocks and came to a small park.
I saw a low-canopied tent and a small fire inside where some men were keeping warm.
I crawled inside.
One older man saw my feet.
Another man handed him a bowl of warm water.
The older man dipped a cloth inside the water and gently dabbed it on the bottoms of my bleeding soles.
I think there was something medicinal on the cloth.
It was very soothing and eased the pain.
I left and kept walking.

SOUR MILK AND THE BRAHMA BULL

I found myself outside of a wooden fence with an opening.
I entered and saw women and children.
One woman said something to the children and they soon appeared with a cot.
They took the cot out through the opening.
I followed.
Then the woman indicated I should lie down on the cot.
I did.
Then a child brought me a bowl with a white liquid in it.
I drank a little.
It tasted warm and sour.
I guess the family took one look at me and saw someone who needed some nourishment, which I certainly did; but I couldn't drink much of this liquid.
I got off of the cot, thanked my hosts, and then a child suddenly ran up to give me this beautiful quilted blanket of many colors.
I started walking again with the colorful quilt wrapped around my shoulders.
It wasn't too long before I came to a place where there were people standing with some cows and one beautiful white Brahma bull.
I turned around and saw some other people getting onto the wooden platform of a cart.
Then for some reason I turned around and there in front of me was that beautiful white Brahma bull.
His horns were just inches away from me.
Although I have read that bulls are color-blind, I wondered if this particular bull wasn't.
Maybe he saw the colorful quilt and came up for a closer look.
I got onto the wooden platform, and the cart began to move away.
During the ride an old man lightly touched my ribs.
It felt strange.
I think he was checking to see how emaciated I really was.
I wrote a poem about this part of my journey.
Here it is:

Lost In India Part I

I was thinking about India and
The white Brahma bull.
I was just standing around.
Wearing a colorful quilt.
When I turned around.
The Brahma bull was touching my nose.
Life's movements
Quickly move like that Brahma bull.
Attracted to colorful motion.
Suddenly it is here.
Life.
Death.
Romance.
Then I got onto the cart.
Being pulled by a different bull.
The dark Indian man lightly touched me.
Felt my ribs.
Wondering in silence.
Who was I?
Why so thin?

PARANOID AND OUT OF SEQUENCE

Before all of these other things happened that I have written about, there were other things that occurred right after I got off the train from Pakistan.
Events happened the way I have described them so far, just not the same sequence.
Right after I arrived in New Delhi, I remember walking through the train station.
Armed security seemed to be everywhere.
Being sick (and not knowing what it was I "had") had really affected my mind.
I felt dizzy, disoriented and paranoid.
I bought something and handed the vendor a $100 bill.
(I remember the year on that bill: 1939.)
I gave it to the man and told him to keep it.
The fact that I remember having done this very dumb thing still bothers me, but
the chemical imbalances within my body were already taking their toll.
I left the train station.
The next thing that I remember is that I was standing in front of the U.S. Embassy.
I was outside of a tall metal gate.
No other persons were coming or going.
The security guard asked me to leave my backpack, and I entered the building.
There was just one man behind a desk inside.
He was listening to country-western music.
He then asked with a Southern accent:
"How can I help you.?"
I told him that I was a Peace Corps volunteer and needed help.
He said that the main offices were closed.
I can't recall if he told me to wait or to return tomorrow.
He went somewhere.
That left me some time to walk in the lobby.
I looked inside a very large room with a long table.
I would later write a poem about this room and my visit to the embassy.
[See below.]
The man returned, and he said that everyone was sleeping.
I thanked him (for what?) and left.
Then I started walking around Embassy Row.
I wondered if another embassy would give me more assistance than the U.S. Embassy, but I didn't ever find out.
I just kept walking.
At some point, I got tired of carrying my backpack, and just left it on the front lawn of one of the embassies.
I took my jacket, my passport and money.

The Power of Yellow Lights

The big war room with yellow lights had big
empty desks that reeked of power.
The big war room was locked.
I stood inside waiting for my inquisitors.
They arrived in shiny suits of blue armor.
This was a laboratory of brain power
Computers hummed
They spoke
We know what you know and now you know.
When did you get your implants?
During one of your blackouts.
My pleasure center is sending signals to
their screens
My brain cannot hide the democracy of the
21st century
Only the Interstellar Space Agency can rescue
me.
The big war room with yellow lights had big
empty desks that reeked of power.

JUMPING OFF A TRAIN

I boarded a train.

I had no idea where it was going, but in my mind I thought it might get me to Sri Lanka.

The train was old and moved slowly.

It was a hot and bumpy ride.

I was sitting next to man who said that he worked for the government.

Becoming nostalgic for America, I asked him if he knew who Johhny Carson was, but he shook his head "No".

Then I saw a shiny metal box that triggered a paranoiac reaction.

I said to myself "Bomb".

I had to get off of the train before it exploded.

I walked to an open door of the train car that I was riding in and looked out.

I said to myself:

"I will jump when I see a lot of green", knowing that when I jumped I wanted to land on something soft.

The train had just gone by a field of tall and bright-yellow mustard plants when I saw the green.

I jumped.

I hit the ground and rolled.

The impact smashed the round, gold-rimmed glasses I was wearing, and I was left now only with my dark sunglasses; but luckily they were prescription lens...otherwise I would have been a blindman because I am both so near and far-sighted.

I brushed myself off and was thankful that I wasn't hurt.

It was getting dark and cooler.

It also started raining.

I looked around for shelter.

I saw a tall mound of hay, and thought it might protect me.

I went to it and sat down, pulling hay over me, but the hay didn't stop the rain or shelter me from it.

But it was only a light rain, and then it stopped.

Up ahead was a light.

It was a small wooden enclosure with two Indian men inside.

They offered me tea.

They wanted to know who I was.

What was my name?

I shrugged and pretended that I didn't understand.

One of them pulled out a map of the world.

I pointed to South America, and started speaking some Spanish.

I didn't want them to know that I was an American.

I wasn't sure that India (or at least these men) liked Americans much.

They shook their heads some more.

I drank my tea and left.

It was getting late, and I was now very tired.

I saw a canopied wooden bin that was filled with corn meal.

I stepped inside it, covered myelf with the corn meal, and went to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning I couldn't find my dark sunglasses.

I got out of my warm bed and started protesting to people around me.

I was waving my arms and pointing to my face, and holding an imaginary pair of glasses to my face.

Then I held the proxy frames up to the sun.

Finally, one person pointed in the direction of a fenced building (it was a factory of some sort).

I walked to the fence, and as I was walking, a sheperd with a stick was guiding his "flock" of pigs down the road.

It was quite a sight to see the little pigs obediently following him.

I got to the fence.

Someone came out and handed me my sunglasses.

I was very relieved to get them back.

Below is a poem that I wrote about this part of my adventure.

I walked & walked until my shoes fell off.

When I saw green I jumped off the old train.

When I hit the ground & rolled over I was

Surprised I was alive.

I had bruises.

I walked into a medical clinic.

They said I

Was ok & so I left.

I had on my dark sunglasses, mysterious-looking dark stranger,

Wandering

The sky got gray, the night got

Cold

It started to rain.

I climbed onto a Haystack to cover myself with straw (it was a lousy idea)

So I climbed into a small grain bin with a little roof & covered

Myself with corn meal

So warm & cozy

I had on my dark sunglasses.

I slept.

I woke up.

It was a sunny morning.

My dark sunglasses

Were gone.

Men were staring down at me

&

As I climbed out of that warm corn meal heaven

Someone handed me my sunglasses.

I was so relieved.

I could see again.

I started

Walking

Walking

Walking

&

My feet bled.

BUS RIDE INTO A BRIGHT LIGHT

I kept walking.
I didn't sleep.
I didn't eat.
I was worried that I was going to get rabies.
I kept walking.
Then I got on a bus.
I didn't know where it was going, but I didn't know where I was going either, so it didn't seem to matter.
About five miles later I saw a small hospital.
I decided I would get off here.
I walked into the hospital.
I entered a waiting area.
Then I left it and walked down a hall, looking into rooms.
I entered one room and saw a green chalk board with some words that I remembered seeing once when I had visited a friend's house in Boulder.
It was a quotation that the Ananda Marga Yoga Society kept as a part of its philosophy and indoctrination.
My friend's house was like "headquarters" or a branch of the Ananda Marga Yoga Society.
The sister of my friend's wife had just returned from India, and she mentioned how the Indian FBI were looking for Ananda Marga members, because it was a forbidden organization in India.
A doctor walked into the room.
He saw me staring at the green chalkboard.
He turned on a very bright light and shined it into my face.
He said something.
Maybe he knew I knew what the words meant.
I didn't stay to find out, but bolted out of the room, and ran down the hallway, and went outside.
Paranoia! Panic! Fear!
I didn't want anyone to know my identity, and so I tore up my passport and got rid of it. I clearly wasn't in my right mind, and I knew it, but it was hard to not be there.
I continued walking.
It was a hot day.

DAY OF THE JACKAL

I now was walking in a suburban part of New Delhi.
Streets looked more like American streets.
The traffic was not as fast and furious.
I kept seeing advertisements for the Day of the Jackal (a movie that was released in 1973).
It felt as if jackals might be ready to attack me.
I got off of the main streets and walked into a neighborhood of family residences.
After a short amount of walking, I came to one home that for some reason attracted my attention.
I walked closer.
I couldn't believe my eyes!
In front of the house stood someone who looked like one of the apes from the movie Planet of the Apes.
I didn't know if I was hallucinating; but how could it have been anything else?
The person who had moments before looked like an ape now was human.
I don't remember what I said.
Maybe I said "I'm lost."
I was invited inside the home.
An American greeted me.
He asked me if I wanted something to drink.
I think I said "A screwdriver".
The servant brought my drink to me on a fancy tray.
In another room I heard the voice of Jimmy Carter speaking, then I heard the man of the house say to someone else,
"He seems to be on drugs or something."
This irritated me, but I didn't want to offend my host, and so I ignored the accusation.
The next thing I know he said that I would be taken somewhere safe.
I got into a small car and was on my way to "somewhere safe", but in my paranoid mind I saw death waiting for me.
I told my driver "Stop! Stop!"
He shook his head and kept going.
I screamed "Stop now and let me out!"
He slowed down and almost stopped when I opened the door and hopped out.
I started running.
A dog started barking and chasing me.
Then the dog bit me.
I was sure I would get rabies, and began looking for a hospital.
I walked for hours.
I remember it was about 2 in the morning.
I came to a gate that had the name of a medical office.
The gate was closed, but I opened it, walked in and knocked on the front door.
A man came to door and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
I apologized for the late visit.
He asked "How can I help you?"
I told him that I had been bitten by a dog.
He asked me inside.
He asked me to show him the bite.
Then he got a bottle with the name "SPIRIT" on it.
He put SPIRIT on some cotton, dabbed the bite, and said that it would be fine.
I left and started walking.

OLD DELHI AND BURLAP BAGS

Dylan's song Love Sick is playing.

The words remind me of what I felt when I was walking through India.

Again, I must emphasize the intensity of sights and sounds that I experienced while I was in India.

Ugly and death-like smells came later.

The carnival-like scenes of day had now melted away.

No carnival now.

Somber and gray air was everywhere.

The temperature had decreased.

I saw a dog who curled up and laid down on the embers of a fire to keep warm...or to commit suicide!

I walked.

I walked.

And I walked some more.

This night I was outside of New Delhi and had entered Old Delhi.

Old buildings.

Eerie shadows.

I saw a camel lying in a street's gutter. It slowly raised its head up and then moved it back and forth as if to say "No, no..."

I did not think that this was a good omen.

I kept walking down darkened streets.

Then I came upon a narrow street that was more brightly lit.

There was a small post office on a corner.

I entered, wondering if I could mail a letter, and then walked out.

I came upon a large truck and the back of it was piled high with fat burlap sacks.

I had no idea what the sacks contained.

Then I climbed on top of them.

Why?

Maybe I thought that I could hitch a ride.

Where?

Good question.

A man with a hooked tool was pulling up more bags.

I decided I'd better get off of the bags or I might have something sharp inside of me.

I continued walking and walking until the next sunrise.