Winter in Europe, 2009 and I was on route to Morocco from Liverpool. John Lennon airport to Agadir, Morocco.

3 hours later, I peeled off the excess clothing and enjoyed the balmy warm breeze at 9 in the evening. 120 GBP, return ticket (including my paraglider) on a no frills airline. The airport was efficient and within 30 minutes our group of 4 paragliders were outside getting a taxi for the 2hr ride to Mirhleft. Being a Brit from South Africa, I was tense for the the first 25 min of our journey, driving on the right hand side of the road takes a little getting used to,but when I eventually accustomed myself, I was snapping pictures of everything that we passed. I didn’t see one single camel, I saw donkeys, goats and dogs but no camels, they are obviously not nocturnal creatures.

Mirhleft is South of Agadir and after one hour we were driving through Tiznit, only 40 minutes more and we would be in Mirhleft.

Mirhleft (29″ 43′ 57.20″N-  10″ 02′ 04.52″W) is a young fishing village, established at the start of the last century, although the fishing industry is not what it used to be, you can get a taste of what life was like, fish and seafood make up a large portion of most menus in Mirhleft.

The locals are friendly and helpful, speaking Arabic, French, Berber and enough English to get by. The local surfer kids are the friendliest inhabitants, they do not hesitate to approach you and introduce themselves, once introduced, you have a friend for life. Besides surfing, soccer is the most discussed sport in Mirhleft and although paragliding is popular in the area, I only met two Moroccan paragliders. (There are at least 8 residents that fly though.)

There are three paragliding sites within 20 minutes of Mirhleft, the most popular being Nigel’s place, situated North of the town http://www.paraglidingearth.com/en-html/index.php?site=10483                      Nigel runs a well groomed take-off site with the help of local pilot, Larbi. It is situated on a 300m ridge, which runs SSW-NNE for about 4.4kms  primarily ridge soaring but there is enough land between the ridge and the beach for decent thermals to develop.

The pace of Mirhleft is perfect for visitors and locals, the hot sun slows everything down, stray dogs drag themselves along the dusty streets while men relax at the shady cafes, sipping lattes or peppermint tea. And for those who enjoy good coffee, Moroccans know how to serve it!

I couldn’t work out which day was market day as there were always street vendors around and even though you are an hour away from the Sahara, you can find just about anything in Mirhleft. The fresh produce is mainly local and it is good quality, the fruit and vegetables are huge, healthy and cheap, the fish is fresh and also inexspensive. Silver work is a traditional industry in Morocco and you see a lot of the crafts in shops and on the street. The homemade nougat is a must!

I think I saw four hotels in Mirhleft but I would not be surprised if there are more, tourism is the main breadwinner in Mirhleft and you can stay bed and breakfast for as little as 16.00 GBP per day.  I stayed in the Hotel Abertih and I was made very welcome by the staff, the facilities were adequate and the owner, Damien, is also a parglider.

Wifi Internet is available at most hotels and guest houses, it isn’t fast but you can download torrents if you are longing for an episode of your favourite programme. I did see an internet cafe and a PC shop and some local surfers told me that I could buy blank cd’s in town. The post office is functional and the clerk speaks enough english to help you, it also has a western union, so cash is not a problem. I only saw one bank in town but there may have been another one? The post office will also convert foreign currency, but the locals will give you a better rate.

Although Morocco is a predominantly muslim country, alcohol is on sale in the hotels, bars and some of the restaurants, you are asked not drink outside as the locals do not share the passion(some do but only on the sly)

Hashish or kief is plentyful and it is fantastic, if you haven’t been offered any in your first day, you are obviously ’square’ or very frightening. I had three lovely pieces of Hash by my second day and the price was ridiculous, 10.00GBP for a quarter. It is a light yellow/brown, very aromatic and easy to crumble, no need for burning, it mixes easy with your tobacco and it smokes easily too, three puffs and you can pass it on. I would rate the hashish as being much better than Afghani hash. Although the hash was readily available, the police do not tollerate smokers of the herb, best to smoke on the roof or at the beach.

Mirhleft is for the adventurous spirit, it is for those people who are open to something different,  if you are looking for shopping malls, air-con and discotheques, Mirleft is not for you. The heat is unforgiving and unrelenting, even in winter, the dust can sometimes blow, into everything! If you are looking to enjoy Africa on African terms, Mirhleft and Morocco have a lot to offer.

Some of the activities not yet mentioned, horse riding, quad-biking trails, surfing school, henna tattooing, beach fires and drumming circles, nature walks, traditional musicians and hashish, awesome hashish!

If you live in Europe and you enjoy surfing, paragliding, sunshine and Hashish you ought to visit Mirhleft, I speant 14 fun filled days there and I will go back, most definately. My total spend came to 750-00GBP that is including airfair and all food and drink and smoke.

Word on the street is that Obama will send 34,000 more troops to Afghanistan. He really stared McChrystal down, eh? It’s expected that he’ll make a public announcement on Tuesday; i’m sure it will be a fine speech. He’ll talk about freedom and how important it is to defend it. He’ll have tough words for Hamid Karzai and corruption in Afghanistan. He’ll tell us that this is all necessary so that the terrorist bogeymen don’t come back and kill us all at the mall. And most importantly, he’ll tell us that this “surge” is temporary; it will facilitate the development of the Afghan National Army and provide security until that body can take on the job of defeating the Taliban.

That is, Mr. Obama will produce grand words that will, hopefully, mask the taste of bullshit. There’s a video going around the internet that you should watch so that you have the right visual for the moment our President tells you about developing the Afghan Army.

I don’t know about you, but i laughed and laughed. The attitude towards all that spliff smoking by the US servicemen was the funniest bit. Close to thirty years ago, the Americans almost certainly would have been happy to smoke with the Afghans. Of course, the US lost that time didn’t we? We’ll lose this one too, so as those soldiers might have said, “It don’t mean a fuckin’ thing.” I’d also imagine that plenty of Vietnam vets might say that they could dispatch their soldierly duties just fine while blazed. The problem probably isn’t the hash.

The problem might be what the Afghan commander hinted at, the Afghan army is getting the bottom of the barrel…which happens to be filled with high-on’s.

The young Afghans who want to be a warrior have plenty of other opportunities, opportunities that don’t require being screamed at by some cracker. There are private armies, with the possibility of making some money on the side in all the activities that private armies do for funding. These guys are bringing down $120 per month for doing America’s dirty work.

We’ve heard about the $10 a day Taliban, by my math that works out to around $300 per month. If everyone is shooting at pretty much everyone else, which outfit would you join? Who do you think is going to be around the longest? These guys have joined the lowest paid militia in the country; don’t be surprised that they’d rather be getting high.

I see another problem. While i understand that Afghanistan’s multi-ethnic character means multiple languages, there’s no reason that the American trainers couldn’t be able to give simple commands in at least one of them…after eight years. Not only is the ANA expected to defeat the Taliban on half Taliban pay, but they get to do it while taking EFL classes.

We’re spending billions to “win” in Afghanistan and rebuild it like some shining city on a South Asian hill but we don’t bother teaching the trainers to speak any of the Afghan languages? Ya wanna know why we’ll never achieve our stated goals in Afghanistan? Because learning Pashto, Urdu or Dari (even Arabic) is not required of every US soldier deployed to Afghanistan.

There are finer examples — at least a few prepared for public consumption — of cooperation between US forces and the ANA. Relations between the two appear to be much better, but the American interviewee’s also seem like they’re trying to remember their lines. We can safely assume that there are units, officers and soldiers in the ANA who know what they’re doing and do it well. There are not, however, 90,000 of them. There will not be 260,000 of them any time soon.

Besides Someone cooked the books documenting Afghan National Army strength. and, high turnover continues to climb. There is very little chance that the ANA will be ready to take over the role of thrashing the Taliban and keeping al Qaeda on the other side of the mountains. 34,000 more US troops are unlikely to change the prognosis much…especially if they have to teach 28,000,000 people English first.

I really hope that i’m wrong. I really hope that Mr. Obama will not give the speech he’s hinting at, but… Don’t be surprised by, “So that the Afghan army can step up, and we can stand down.” Don’t be surprised when the Afghan army doesn’t step up. Feign shock when the generals keep coming back for more troops, right up until the day we scurry off with our tail between our legs. Unless the President comes through with a shocker (or he has yet another strategy review), we’re in this goat rodeo for the long haul.

She woke up in the dark, her face smeared in smudged mascara. Her hair stuck together with what seemed to her like glue, foul smelling like rotten egg. The guys have had their fun that night, one of them was so wasted he had found funny to put cigarettes out on her skin. She had smoked all that hashish so she did not give a damn. They left her there, lying on the broken tiles, the perverts. She hated those furtive meetings in the castle ruins, up the hill, having to walk her ass about on her cheap golden high-heeled shoes. It was not an easy job, on the irregular pavement, those heels getting stuck everywhere. A girl has to do what she has to do. One of the bastards, the bald fatty, tried to get her down on him for a pair of fake diamond earrings. They were not bad, the earrings, but she could not have sold them for a drink or a hot meal. Her stomach howled. Time to get back to work.

Shivering against the streetlight, slim-line cigarette between parted crimson lips. The reddened eyes betrayed sleepless nights, naked knees trembling with fatigue and the perennial cold. Shivering against the streetlights with her tits on display. Not a soul driving past tonight and she needed a fix, a smoke, a drink, dark chocolate, whatever. Something to spend the night on.

 Fed up of the empty hours, she dragged herself to a crowded nearby café. ‘I’m sorry ma’am, we’re closed’ Said the waiter. Young guy, twenty something, blonde and bland, doable. He scanned her upside down with his diluted-blue eyes. ‘Care for a coffee?’ Asked, softening the tone. Past closing time, he sat by her side, pretending to listen her life-story as they all did. He gave her cake, and more coffee. She gave him a hand job. He caressed the fabric red orchid in her hair, kissed her softly on the lips and mumbled ‘I..this…never been with a…before’. She laughed so hard she could have choked. With a mouth full of lemon sponge and cream and strawberry swirl, she muttered ‘I…haven’t had…any…ever’. She wanted him to take her away from the street, and the cold.  If he filled her days with cake and laughter, she would give him all the hand jobs in the world. Life was only simple in her dreams. He wanted what they all wanted, so she had to do what she had to do. At least this one was not ugly or old.

Back at the motel, razorblade in hand, stared at the warm running water filling up the tub. Wanted to cry in her mama’s arms, somebody’s arms around her. In this land, she was nobody. She was everybody’s body. She was a chunk of meat with a whole on sale. She would sell her soul for a passport.

Today I was rather “down” after a lousy art venue that did not pan out until I turned on the news and put life into perspective.
I listened to the story about how many Afghan children are getting more addicted to drugs at very very young ages because opium/heron is being
fed to children to keep them warm during cold, to soothe aches and pains and to help curb hunger.   http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=5226111n&tag=related;photovideo
Every week more and more children are becoming addicts.  Their mothers are doing what the tribal elders tell them to do and the children and their mothers are becoming the latest victims of drugs in the stone-age life in Afghanistan.
Below is story that is another sad tale of society taking a turn for the worst for a new generation of children that will fight addiction probably their whole lives.
I think back to the stories of the unwanted children that the police try to “eradicate” in South America so the tourists aren’t affected by the addicted, glue sniffing, begging orphans. These children are forced into lives of crime and debauchery and often sniff glue to eleviate their hunger pangs -

I see these stories and wonder still why there is no real war on drugs? Why  can’t there be some effort to somehow harness the abuse of Afghanistan’s opium over production? Oh, maybe because Karzai’s corrupt government can’t even keep Karzai’s own brother from dealing. And how does a “warlord run” country like Afghanistan ever get a hold on their illicit opium when that is their biggest money cash crop for the people besides weapons making?          Who suffers for this greed? The children of course, another generation lost to addiction and living life in squallor in “Flintstoneville”.
My life sounds like whining about a hang nail compared to the scope of reality in which children are given opium just to fake their little bodies into not feeling winters chill. What the Hell? And then again, in America we have an over abundance of  “meth lab” babies and children. It makes me ashamed that we place no real value on changing this plight, on actually controlling  drugs.  I suppose there is no hope to curb drugs.  Meth can be made cheaply and easily. Money is not available and even if it was, does anything change? Would legalizing drugs change anything? At least our government would make a lot of revenue through taxes. What’s the answer?
Children are the future – but in Afghanistan, many children will never make it to adulthood to lead a productive life  –and what is productive in Afghanistan besides opium/heroin/hashish???

Published On Tue May 27 2008-  The Toronto Star

Saliha, a 4-year-old opium addict, sits on a hospital bed in Afghanistan’s northern Balkh province May 26, 2008 with his sister Hamida, 10, and their addicted mother Malika, 35.ROSIE DIMANNO/TORONTO STAR

 

MAZAR-I-SHARIF, AFGHANISTAN–Saliha is a recovering opium addict.  He’s 4 years old. His 10-year-old sister is an addict. His mother is an addict.  Scratch Saliha’s tummy and the wide-eyed child giggles. Press just a little harder and he bursts into tears. “It hurts,” he wails.  This is the soreness that occurs with opium addiction, along with the nausea, the cramping, the diarrhea, the listlessness. Somehow, the youngster has retained his baby fat, not yet taken on the skeletal appearance of a chronic opium user. But his growth has been stunted and Saliha looks more like a child half his age, lying on his mother’s bed in the drug-recovery section of a local hospital.

In Afghanistan, rehab – for the very lucky, the very few – can start as young as this. One patient on the ward, now gone back to his village, was a 6-month-old infant. They are only children. They never made a choice to use opium. It was put in their mouths – usually by their mothers – to still them, keep them quiet and docile.  This is what parents had been instructed to do, by their families, by tribal elders, by well-intentioned but uneducated quacks who believed opium to be the benign cure-all, or at least helpful therapeutic intervention, for everything that ails a person, and so very handy. They just didn’t know any better. Opium for colic. Opium for labour pains. Opium for women’s troubles. And, routinely, opium as pacifier to soothe a baby fussing, as babies do.  “They use it as a medicine for all kinds of illnesses,” explains Dr. Mobien Sultani, 31, who runs the Counter-Narcotics Drug Recovery program at this 20-bed unit in northern Balkh province, one of only two such specialized hospital wards in the country.   “The mothers of these children work very hard. Most of them are Turkmen carpet-weavers. In order to work, in their homes, they need the children to be relaxed, to sleep for a long time. So they put opium on their tongues.”  The problem, Sultani continues, is particularly rampant in northern Turkmen villages, where casual opium use has been common for decades. It was simply part of their culture. In one particular rural town, social workers from this hospital documented 3,500 opium addicts – nearly the entire population. It was their normal.     “They were addicted. They just didn’t know they were addicted,” Sultani sighs. “We’re seeing now more and more teenagers turning to heroin. They do this for the same reason that young people use drugs everywhere in the world – for the pleasant sensation it gives them, at first; because they’re idle, they don’t go to school, they can’t find jobs. But this is killing our communities. With few people working, because everyone is sitting around smoking opium or heroin, the bottom falls out of the local economy. Families either hide their addicts in the home – especially the females – or sometimes throw them out on the street. Then these people become garbage. Men, teenage boys, have to steal, they will even kill, to support their addiction.”
Once a nation that merely produced and exported narcotics – cranking out some 93 per cent of the world’s heroin last year – Afghanistan is now becoming internally subsumed by drugs: 920,000 users, according to the Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission, out of which 120,000 are women.
According to a 2005 study, Balkh alone has 110,000 opium addicts – and this is a province that cultivated zero poppies last year, as concluded by a UN survey.   In fact, says Sultani, cannabis use – hashish, primarily – is the top addiction in Balkh, followed by opium, alcohol (despite the fact Afghanistan is a formally dry Muslim country) and heroin, the chemically refined version of opium. “The communities tend to accept hashish use,” says Sultani. “But heroin makes young people depressed, as well as useless. Heroin addiction is a big stigma for Afghans.” Saliha’s mother, Malika, 35, says she began taking opium following the birth of her first child 14 years ago.
“This is the medicine that was given to me. I didn’t know there would be side-effects for me and for my children.”  She entered the hospital with her two youngest kids a few weeks ago and, together, they have coped with the dreadful withdrawal symptoms.
For most female addicts, however, there is tremendous shame attached to admitting addiction. So they hide in their homes, growing increasingly detached and isolated. There are only six female beds in this facility.
Sultani has pleaded with the Ministry of Public Health to establish more such hospitals and increase his bed capacity to at least 50.
In another bed by the window, Khurma tells the familiar story – addiction born from delivery of her five children. The youngest, 12-year-old Khudi Bardi, is also a patient. They share this narrow cot.     “I was spending ($2) a day on opium,” recalls Khurma, 45. That would buy about two grams of opium every 24 hours. Doesn’t seem like much, in the way of cost, but the average yearly income in Afghanistan is only about $400. “My family could not afford it any more. I had to stop.”  Her son makes a ball with his fist, to express the agony of opium stomach pains. By age 10, he was stealing rice from the village to purchase the drug and also trafficking in narcotics – selling mostly to local women.
“I can remember when opium made me feel happy. I liked that feeling. But then it made me feel sicker and sicker. I was sick when I took it; I was sick when I stopped.  “But I’ll never start again.”  The in-patient detox program lasts for up to 40 days. Before qualifying for the treatment, applicants must attend three times a week, on an out-patient basis, while tapering off their drugs. Follow-up supervision – the hospital employs five social workers – extends for a year. Sultani admits there is a 40 per cent relapse among those who complete the program.     The Ministry of Counter-Narcotics operates 11 drug-education clinics in the province but this is the only facility with patient beds and detox capacity. Since it opened in December 2006, 376 patients have gone through the program.
“It’s not much but we do the best we can,” says Sultani. “The most important thing, though, is education, getting into the communities and making people understand about the dangers of opium, about harm reduction. We go into the schools, talk to the elders, at the shuras and in the mosques.
It is a very big job, a major challenge. But on our side, we also have Islam, which forbids the use of narcotics. Our faith is our strongest weapon.”

Immaginate il dolore di una madre e di un padre davanti al corpo senza vita del figlio. Non credo ci possiate riuscire senza averlo provato a vostre spese. Provate allora lontanamente ad immaginarvi questo dolore. Un mondo che si ripiega su se stesso. Voglia di non essere mai nati per non aver dovuto provare quella sensazione di vuoto, di inutilità.

Immaginate ora questo dolore unito allo strazio. Lo strazio di vedere il proprio figlio su una fredda barella di un obitorio con il corpo irriconoscibile, tumefatto, completamente coperto di lividi. Lo stupore di chi aveva consegnato il figlio pochi giorni prima allo Stato e lo ha rivisto solo in quelle condizioni.

Immaginate la rabbia che un parente od un amico può provare nei confronti della morte e della vita stessa per aver strappato dalla propria esistenza una persona cara, con cui hai condiviso anche solo un breve tratto di vita. Provate ad incalanare questa rabbia atavica verso un’ istituzione, verso persone fisiche e non contro un concetto filosofico o un dogma religioso. Una rabbia senza nome, che non può essere sfogata, perchè si sa “le cose vanno così in Italia”.

Immaginate infine la fortissima delusione dei genitori e della sorella per non aver potuto rivedere almeno un’ultima volta Stefano. Non averlo potuto salutare, non averlo potuto consolare nella fase più buia e triste della sua esistenza. Lo hanno lasciato morire solo. Senza nessuno vicino. Senza una faccia amica che ti tenga la mano mentre aspetti il trapasso. E tutto ciò non dovuto al tristo destino ma ad una deliberata scelta dello Stato.

Provate ad immaginare un vostro figlio, fratello od amico nella storia di Stefano. Io l’ho fatto ed è per questo che sto scrivendo: perchè non mi voglio rassegnare a questa ingiustizia. Non voglio assuefarmi a questo quadro di Dalì, a questa dimensione onirica che in Italia sembra aver preso il posto della realtà delle cose.

Su internet ho perfino letto “Era uno spacciatore, meritava quella fine”. Preferisco non commentare, diventerei villano. Voglio solo dire a quei benpensanti che nessuno merita di morire da solo e soprattutto picchiato barbaramente, neppure il peggiore criminale. Figuriamoci un ragazzo che è stato arrestato per un poco di hashish.

Janet Chow;It's party time!

Janet Chow sat down for breakfast the same way she always has.
But when she poured out her cereal last week an unexpected surprise plopped into her bowl.
A 1 pound block of pure turkish hashish with an estimated street value of over fifteen thousand dollars.
“I didn’t know what it was at first, I thought is was a big clump of brown sugar.” she said. “but when I smelled it I knew that it was definitely not brown sugar.”
The National Reporter - when did you find out what it really was?
“My friend Jeannie came over about fifteen minutes after I found it and she is a drug user.” she said. “I showed it to her and she sniffed it, then her eyes popped opened and she started jumping around all excited and told me it was brick of primo hash.”
The National Reporter- Did you notify the authority’s when you found out what it was?
“Oh hell no!” she laughed. “Me and Jeannie have been smoking it all week and selling little pieces of it to kids down at the school yard.  We made over two grand already and the kids are lining up to buy more.”
The National Reporter - What are you going to do with the money you make from selling it to the school children?
“Buy more!” she said. “This stuff is great!”

Report dell’osservatorio europeo: sale il consumo di cocaina, cala quello di hashish

Paolo Persichetti
Liberazione 6 novembre 2009

Secondo il rapporto 2009 dell’Osservatorio europeo sulle droghe, siamo un popolo di “aspirapolveri“, un Paese fatto a strisce. Sniffare, “pippare”, consumare di cocaina è sempre più un modello di vita, una cifra sociale, il doping della vita quotidiana nella metropoli. L’Italia ormai è piena di «borghesi borgatari», come ha raccontato Walter Siti nel suo ultimo romanzo, Il Contagio. Il consumo di cocaina è una specificità dei Paese occidentali, dove si concentra in massima parte. L’Italia, insieme a Danimarca, Spagna, Irlanda e Regno Unito, è tra i Paesi a più alta prevalenza mentre declina l’uso di cannabis e hashish. Le cifre sono abbastanza eloquenti: almeno 13 milioni di europei adulti hanno provato cocaina nella loro vita. Di questi, la metà sono giovani, dai 15 ai 34 anni. Il che vuol dire che avranno grandi probabilità di provarla ancora, come conferma la crescita del consumo in tutta Europa, soprattutto nella fascia giovanile. Sono tre milioni quelli che l’hanno fumata o inalata nell’ultimo anno. Il fenomeno è talmente significante che seguendo le piste di “bamba” e “bianca” prende forma la nuova sociologia del Paese narrata con grande efficacia da Siti. E’ il realismo postmoderno della borgata sradicata e condominiale, dove borgatari e borghesi si confondono attorno al mito consumistico delle Bmw, delle palestre, delle donne leopardate e siliconate, dello sballo dopato, del vitalismo a buon mercato.
E così il vecchio fumo, l’hashish, diventa «roba da sfigati del muretto», sbarbatelli alle prime armi, come una volta disse il borghese-borgataro per antonomasia, Flavio Briatore, quello del Bilionaire. L’ultimo coatto e il governatore della Regione si sovrappongono, tra trans, prostitute e “botte acchittate”. Gli estremi si congiungono, dilaga il contagio degli strati. I borgatari sognano di passare nei reality, la borghesia precipita nella «virtualità subproletaria», ma non è la rivoluzione bensì la dissoluzione.
Tuttavia, seppure in discesa, cannabis e hashish restano ancora le sostanze più diffuse, fumate da 74 milioni di europei, un adulto su cinque. 22 milioni e mezzo ne ha fatto uso nell’ultimo anno e 4 milioni fumano spinelli tutti i giorni. Farsi le canne, i tubetti, le micce, gli spini, le bombe, le trelle, il trombone, il purino, la stroppa, la ciosba, la zibbarda, resta la moda più diffusa tra i giovani. Una condotta dalla valenza “inclusiva”, omologante, che da tempo ha smarrito il brivido della trasgressione. Le cifre dicono che tra i 15-24 anni di età, il 16% l’ha usata nell’ultimo anno e l’8% nell’ultimo mese. 4 milioni di europei fumano ogni giorno (l’1% della popolazione adulta), circa 3 milioni hanno un’età compresa tra i 15 e i 34 anni. L’Italia risulta ancora il Paese dove il consumo è più alto per ogni fascia presa in considerazione. Il rapporto lancia poi l’allarme sulla diffusione delle nuove droghe sintetiche, in particolare dei cannabinoidi creati in laboratorio e che provocano effetti simili all’hashish e alla marijuana. Accanto a questi prodotti “Spice”, sono spuntate miscele di erbe alternative e droghe ricreative, le “party pills” a base di benzilpiperazina, sostanza legale.

Maui Police recovered 540 grams of cocaine, worth an estimated street value of $540,000, during a drug trafficking probe.  Authorities say the organization is suspected of importing the powdered cocaine from California to Maui County.

The investigation was launched when Maui Police received information of suspicious parcels being shipped over the past few years.  A query of one of the parcels resulted in the obtainment of a search warrant for that parcel.

As a result of the search, approximately 540 grams (1 pound and 3 ounces) of powdered cocaine was recovered, along with drug paraphernalia.

A subsequent search of a suspect’s vehicle resulted in the recovery of about 7 grams of processed marijuana and .7 grams of hashish.

Authorities arrested a 40 year old Lahaina man for Promoting a Dangerous Drug I, Promoting a Detrimental Drug III, Promoting a Harmful Drug III and 3 counts of Prohibited Acts Related to Drug Paraphernalia.  He was released pending further investigation on all counts.

The case will be pending review by the Prosecutor’s Office.

(Posted by Wendy Osher; Information provided by the Maui Police Department)

10 drugs you shouldn’t take when you drive and some of them you sholdn’t take in any other circumstance. A few details of each drug that can affect our life in a way that we don’t see.

Heroin

What is heroin?

Heroin is an opiate drug that is synthesized from morphine, a naturally occurring substance extracted from the seed pod of the Asian opium poppy plant. Heroin usually appears as a white or brown powder or as a black sticky substance, known as “black tar heroin.”
How Does Heroin Affect the Brain?
Heroin enters the brain, where it is converted to morphine and binds to receptors known as opioid receptors. These receptors are located in many areas of the brain (and in the body), especially those involved in the perception of pain and in reward. Opioid receptors are also located in the brain stem—important for automatic processes critical for life, such as breathing (respiration), blood pressure, and arousal.

Hashish

What is hashish?

Hashish, called charas in India, is the most potent grade of cannabis and is obtained from cultivated plants grown in hot, moist climates. Marijuana or marihuana, drug obtained from the flowering tops, stems, and leaves of the hemp plant, Cannabis sativa (see hemp ) or C. indica; the latter species can withstand colder climates.

LSD

What is LSD?

Lysergic acid diethylamide, LSD-25, LSD, formerly lysergide, commonly known as acid, is a semisynthetic psychedelic drug of the ergoline family. LSD is non-addictive, non-toxic, and is well known for its psychological effects which can include closed and open eye visuals, a sense of time distortion, ego death and profound cognitive shifts, as well as for its key role in1960’s counterculture. It is used mainly by psychonauts as an entheogen and in psychedelic therapy.

Cocaine

What is Cocaine?

Cocaine, the most potent stimulant of natural origin, is extracted from the leaves of the coca plant (Erythroxylum coca), which is indigenous to the Andean highlands of South America. Natives in this region chew or brew coca leaves into a tea for refreshment and to relieve fatigue, similar to the customs of chewing tobacco and drinking tea or coffee.
Pure cocaine was first isolated in the 1880s and used as a local anesthetic in eye surgery. It was particularly useful in surgery of the nose and throat because of its ability to provide anesthesia, as well as to constrict blood vessels and limit bleeding.

Valium

What Is Valium?

Valium is in a group of drugs called benzodiazepines. It affects chemicals in the brain that may become unbalanced and cause anxiety.

Ecstasy

What is ecstasy?

Ecstasy is MDMA (MDMA stands for methylene-dioxy-meth-amphetamine). It is a stimulant drug with some effects similar to hallucinogens (hal-lu-cin-o-gens).
Stimulants speed up the activity in the central nervous system and the brain. Hallucinogens affect the central nervous system and make changes to the person’s state of consciousness, altering the sense of reality.

Absinthe

What is Absinthe?

Is flavoured distilled liquor, emerald green in colour, turning to cloudy, opalescent white when mixed with water. Absinthe inspired many prominent artists, writers and poets.  Absinthe of superior quality. Very strong and probably the only genuine absinthe on the market. Distilled from carefully selected herbs and made from eau-de-vie, distilled from selected wine.

How you look when you try one of this drugs when driving?

Really, do not try this drugs. Enjoy your life without any effects.

Ne pas connecter et déconnecter les lampes de façon répétée:

Pour bien pousser les graines de cannabis:  Essayez d’éviter d’allumer les lampes plusieurs fois par jour. S’il s’avérait nécessaire d’allumer une lampe qui a brûlée il y a un instant, attendez au moins une demi-heure avant de l’allumer à nouveau. Cela prolongera la durée de vie de votre lampe.

Graines de Cannabis – Remplacement des lampes:
Du fait que les lampes s’usent au fur et à mesure, l’émission de lumen décroît. Bien qu’une lampe à halogène à vapeur métallique ou une lampe à sodium à haute pression aient généralement une durée de vie d’environ deux ans, il est recommandé de ne pas attendre jusqu’à ce que la lampe soit complètement inutilisable. Dès lors, l’émission de lumen aura déjà diminuée de 50% en comparaison avec une lampe neuve. En règle générale, il est conseillé de remplacer les lampes une fois par an.
Ne pas oublier d’amener les lampes usées au dépôt d’ordures chimiques

Malheureusement, concernant les graines de cannabis, les dispositions réglementaires et leur mise en application diffèrent fortement d’un pays à l’autre. Pour cette raison,
nous attirons votre attention sur la nécessité de bien vous renseigner au sujet des réglementations auxquelles vous êtes soumis. Parfois, une dispense peut être obtenue pour des applications industrielles, thérapeutiques et agricoles des graines de cannabis et de chanvre. Dans un certain nombre de pays, le commerce des semences de chanvre ne requiert pas de permis.

Pour pouvoir effectuer la germination de votre graine de cannabis tôt dans l’année, les cultivateurs extérieurs devraient garder leurs jeunes pousses en pots et les placer régulièrement dehors, de façon à ce qu’elles puissent s’habituer aux conditions extérieures progressivement. Par exemple, les plantes peuvent être posées sur le balcon, dans un endroit aussi ensoleillé que possible. On peut les laisser dehors quelques heures le premier jour et les soumettre dans ces bonnes conditions à une exposition journalière de plus en plus longue, jusqu’à ce qu’elles puissent rester à l’extérieur 24h/24h.

One day in the 1960’s, a man approached and said, “Serge, we have a new product, we make millions, and we have more money than you’ve ever dreamed of.”

He continued; “We understand you’re the man. Nothing in this city moves unless you have a piece of it. You can move anything, and you know everybody there is to know. We’re telling you we’re going to give you a product that’s gonna make you more money than you ever dreamed of.”

I was intrigued. But the man said, “We’re not telling you what it is until you give your word that you’ll give us one week of your time. We understand that you never ever lie. We understand that you never break your word. That’s your reputation. This is what people know about you in the criminal world. So if you give us your word, we know you will keep it and you will not lie. If you believe this is a good scam then you will do business with us.”

I said, “You’ve got my word and you’ve got my promise. What’s the scam?”

“Drugs.”

I said, “You’re an idiot. You can’t make money from drugs. Who makes money from drugs? Prostitutes, gutter people, and pimps do it. There ain’t enough people in the inner city of Toronto who would buy drugs that’s gonna make me the amount of money that I make in my extortion racquets by whisky. Are you nuts? I’m running three gambling casinos. I’ve got contracts going with Montreal, and you’re trying to tell me I’m gonna make money with drugs. You’re a goof.”

The guy reminded me that I gave him my word and then said, “I’ve got a pipeline from the Mexican-Columbian way. We manufacture LSD and have set up a lab here. We work to California and a guy named Timothy Leary. I’ll tell you straight up you’re gonna make more money than you ever dreamed of. You’ve got to honour your commitment to me.”

“You got it,” I said. “What do you want?”

He said, “I want you to meet me tomorrow morning.”

I met him in the morning, and we went to the suburbs to a high school. When I got out of the car, I looked at this guy and said, “I’m gonna punch you right in the mouth. What are you doing? Somebody’s gonna call the cops. What are we doing at this high school?”

“The kids that go to this high school got lots of money. These are stupid kids in clean white clothes, with straight white teeth and no bruises, and laughing. And some of them drive cars.”

Then he said, “Watch.”  The man went to the smoking pit and started giving out dope. On Monday he gave out weed (marijuana). On Wednesday he started giving out tabs of acid. On Friday when the kids came, he told them there would be no more freebies.

On Saturday we went back to the inner city, and I called my crew together. I said, “We’re in a new business. It’s the best scam in the world. Dope.”

One of my guys looked at me and said, “You’ve been punched one too many times in the head, Serge. You’re scrambled! You can’t make money from drugs.”

I explained how these kids took the drugs and then sold the drugs to their friends.

This was totally contradictory to the way we believed in the inner city. I always told guys I’d kick their butts around the corner if I caught them drinking. I wouldn’t let them run with my gang because they had a chance to get out of it. We believed, quite frankly, that we were never going live to be 25-years-old; and when we saw somebody in the inner city have a chance to get out, have half-decent parents, have a shot to escape the poverty and the pain and the misery, then we would try to protect them and make sure they didn’t get involved with anything that would stand in the way of them getting out.

In the inner city, our picture of drugs was through prostitutes, hookers and kids selling their bodies to buy dope and heroin. But these kids were just giving it to their friends!

Then I said, “When they were told, ‘No more free stuff’, they simply reached into their pockets, pooled their money together, bought stuff, and began to sell it to their friends so that they could have their dope without cost. I gotta tell you this is the best scam in the world. All we have to do is put a dealer in every town and city, and these stupid middle-class kids will sell it to their friends. They think its cool, and their parents give them the money without ever knowing they’re using the money to buy the drugs. And they never tell the police about it.”

By 1984, I was generating $140 million a year. I was co-coordinator of one of Canada’s most powerful drug crime families. I was the largest importer of hashish into this country. One of my partners was the largest exporter of hashish in the world. I manufactured most of the crystal meth that hit North America. Eventually I was arrested for a $40 million drug lab.

The bottom line is the drug world has been built upon the bodies and minds of children in middle-class America. The epidemic grows in Canada and the high schools of our country. There aren’t drug dealers roaming the hallways of the high schools; it’s the kids selling the drugs to kids! I discovered a money-making enterprise, much like the alcohol industry, except that I didn’t have the media to advertise it. All I had was good business practices: providing good stuff, providing my promise and my word that people would get high.

In my journey as a drug dealer, I became a drug addict. I had the money, I had the world, and for thirteen years of my life I was an intravenous drug user. But here’s a secret about drug addictions. People don’t do drugs to feel good; people are not addicts to feel good. People become addicts to stop feeling bad. There was nothing in my life that I felt good about because there was hate, there was rage, and there was anger. One of my advantages, when I started in the federal prison system to be classified as one of the most dangerous men in the Canadian prison system, was that I didn’t care if I died. If a man came against me, he had better be prepared to kill me because that’s what it would take to stop me. I just didn’t care about living. When I didn’t care about living, I didn’t care about dying; and if I didn’t care about dying then I didn’t care about living. I found my life existing in pure unadulterated hate and violence. There was no God, and there was no humanity. There was me against the rest of the world, and I was to spend over six years of my life in solitary confinement, charged with instigating prison murders, instigating prison riots, and assaulting guards. I was classified as one of the most dangerous men in the Canadian penitentiary system. I was also classified as one of the most powerful men in the drug crime world.

But in 1984 when I went to prison for the drug lab, I went to jail broke. But I didn’t care. I got it once, and I knew I’d get it again.