How I got INitiated

What is the difference between a tourist and a traveler?
The tourist plans how to spend a limited time in order to return with anticipated memories. A traveler endeavors a journey to witness new realms of nature, to interact with new kinds of people. Often enough these people open new ideas of what to do, allowing the traveler to collect inspiring notions, new phrases and sometimes different behaviors.


I never cared for smoking pot, and I was inclined to trust it is fucking up the mind. However, when one concludes his mind was fucked up already, there's not much to lose and much more to gain.
The first time it came to me while traveling was in southern Ethiopia by 2 Israelis. The effect it had on me, colorful shapes running on the screen of my mind, scared me that it'd control me and not vice versa. Coming to think about it now, perhaps it was the alcohol involved or the Lariam pills, this was an extremely rare time for me to experience visuals out of smoking. Eventually I fell asleep and learned it was not all that troubling.
A truck from the border to the next town in Kenya put me with a couple of British bicyclers, both young medical doctors, and the dude explained Marijuana is not likely to harm the majority of people. He also convinced me to buy a crappy bike and join their ride, crossing the desert. Amazing as it has been, it was tremendously exhausting so I sold the bike on the other side. In that small town I coincidentally ran into a couple of friends I knew from my university. The well experienced travelers offered me some of their experience and some of their weed.
From this point an occasional spliff was a matter of timing and probability: In the city with a Kenyan host and an Argentinian/Spanish couple of bicyclers; with a French dude trekking a mountain; on the hammock of the rooftop on an island; with a local Malawian on the lake's beach; with Australian/American siblings in guest houses and the middle of a road (TIP: don't trust awkward seeming "taxi"s on an already awkward "road" in rural Zambia. They might have a tendency not to complete the ride)... My backpacking sphere has taken in the socializing habit.
The finest weed story I was told was of a South African liberal, who I randomly met. He was drafted at the time to the war in Angola. While patrolling with another soldier, they took a break, went to the woods, put down the weapons and rolled up or took out a joint. As they were, some 5 soldiers of the opposite side find them in the forest. They approach showing their rifles; my friend shows up the joint, and they lower their rifles and sat next to them. As the spliff was passed, they said they were Cubans who got stuck in this war (assisting the communist Angolese rebels) and only wished to be home already, away from all this nonsense that does not concern them. Afterwards, they all go back each side to their own camp.
I loved that story.
Enough to say I advocated the Ganja (or Dagga in Afrikaans). Yet I have not bought it myself so far.
The first time I actually bought weed was in Cape Town, after living there for several good months, in which alcohol was still my drug of choice.

That altered a bit at first by a world traveler friend and much more later on in AfrikaBurn. The South African version of Burning Man got me drunk and doped about 3 days continuously. The festival's spirit of sharing and having a good time was also broadcasted on weed, which played a part of neighborly welcome manners. It was there that my body inhaled THC in such intensity that it acquired its flavor and its favor.
A week after the festival I move to Amsterdam. Unplanned, I lured myself into the typical foreigner's image, thrilled by the legit scene. While it still remained a good socialization utility to begin with, I began as well addressing it with personal interest.

Getting high got into me. The Need For Weed was a need of examining aspects less examined.
There's a reason why at times of being high the eyes seem glassy, there's some freshness and vividness in the senses. A person can seem so pretty, nature elements become more enchanting, ideas spoken may easily fascinate, street noises sound like a soundtrack of life - the cycling sound, the beat of hard machinery, sirens, people's speech, kids' laughter - Cannabis helps tuning-in to a vibe in which you can feel the rhythm in things. it enhances the liveliness, the breathing of an event, shines a trail of awareness on your perception.

Regarding creativity: The ability to go far away drifting in associations. Smoking too much could get a person disoriented but smoking just about right can truly sharpen the mind to whichever intellectual tendency it holds.
Communication: More frequently than when sober, I can actually get the meaning of the other person better than the words that person used. Even if that person would rephrase, the true intention behind the words was already received. As if words are like beams of light carrying a message that the Marijuana helps getting directly without needing to decipher the verbal coding. Moreover, the plant serves as a key to a world of meanings and terms that could be followed up in future sessions, like understandings buried in a shallow grave and can be brought back to life, pinned to remind us concepts previously built up.

Marijuana is said sometimes to be a medicine. The reason it is addictive (though it is not) is that it remedies life from being overly dull. The reason it is illegal (though it is not) is that it cures better than alcohol. The potential drawback is that when the high drops, the strength to have reached some conclusions fades away, like waking up from a dream, not being sure how relevant or profound it really is. But it is.