I was rejected by the Mormon missionaries, in a small Taiwanese town, bedecked with false idols and poly-theists. They were sitting outside the 7–11 when I saw them. Two of them. Sitting on bent up metal chairs, they were sucking down mysterious, leathery hot dogs. At that point, I had been in Taiwan for about a year, living in a polluted little town on the outskirts of Kaohsiung City. I went there to finish a book I had been working on and as a bonus, learn what it was like to live in a toxic

Forty-eight hours ago I was in the States drinking coffee. I wish I had savored it more deeply because the majority of coffee here is instant. It seems trivial, doesn't it? It’s not that I didn't do my research; on the contrary, I did plenty. This is the kind of place, however, that no amount of research can prepare you for.

The light from the crematorium travels across the grassy courtyard into my cell, illuminating one wall with a pale, soft light. I wander across the cool expanse of tile, and stand facing the light from double glass doors, criss-crossed with steel bars. At night you must always keep them padlocked.

At five A.M. and speeding northward, I was once again perched on the back of a truck watching the glittering lights of Bangkok fade behind a scrim of pollution. As we traveled beyond the city limits, I was immediately struck by the rapid transition from sprawling concrete chaos to the silent mosaic of rice paddies.

In the school auditorium of this old St. Louis neighborhood church, a popular fencing class is just getting started. The snap of foils and shuffling feet echo down the stairs and throughout the hallways. One floor below the clashing of steel is a group of zen practitioners, sitting silently among Buddha images and Japanese calligraphy. In the church parking lot, a non-profit Bakery that only hires ex-cons, and a mini farmer’s market, do a steady trade in delicious culinary opposites. It is another busy day at All Saints Catholic Church in University city, Mo. and it’s not even Sunday.

The illegal trade in protected and endangered plants and animals is a multi-billion dollar industry. It is a trade that manages to supersede the complexities of international treaties and operates with near impunity, and Thailand is no exception. The United States Embassy in Bangkok reported that approximately U.S. $15 million in illegal contraband was recovered in Thailand in 2011. “On March 31, 2011, Thai customs agents seized more than two tons of Africa elephant tusks, the largest seizure of illegal ivory in Thailand’s history”.1

They say there is man in China who who can predict earthquakes by studying the behavior of snakes.