If you stretch your imagination a little you might be able to picture St. Peter, sleeves rolled up, still processing
millions of poor souls that were liberated by KGB thugs. Tortured to death, multitudes revealed their innermost thoughts. Duly recorded, these secrets now lie buried under layers of dust in some obscure archives, so as not to remind us of savagery perpetrated by Homo sapiens ("Wise Man", according to Linnaeus - a dubious accolade to say least).
But times have changed. Today you don't have to use coercion to lay your hands on most amazing money making secrets. At least I don't. I get them for free. Some mornings my inbox contains so many of them that I am tempted to contact people at Dzerzhinsky Square and set up some kind of secrets exchange.
It would be a win-win arrangement.
My secrets would enable them to improve their somewhat reduced circumstances, and make money way they always have - without any work or investment. Their experience in disseminating misinformation might be missing link needed to make money from these "sure-fire" schemes, where I failed so miserably.
On other hand I could use my literary prowess to expose deep buried secrets in an all revealing e-book and make my fortune. The real Africa, or pockets of it that still remain, would then lie before wheels of my four-wheel-drive vehicle. I could savour magnificent vistas of "dark continent" before they too are "enlightened" and turned into sprawling slums by "civilized".
Call me old-fashioned, but I still prefer original works of nature.
What holds me back from making call to Moscow is possibility that even devious KGB might not be able to make promised millions and knock on my door at their favourite time - early hours of morning. My experience with these amazing money-making secrets made a dawn knock on my door very probable.
I should have known that things are not always what they seem. Climbing Kilimanjaro taught me that lesson, but as Benjamin Franklin said: "Experience is a dear teacher, but fools will learn at no other." It is hard to admit, but I seem to be one of them.
When I saw snow-topped mountain from dusty street of equatorial town of Moshi, it looked majestic, but not at all challenging. To climb Kilimanjaro would be a piece of cake. Or so I thought.
Over next few days highest freestanding mountain in world, (5895 m) taught me that experience is a painful bridge between perception and reality.
The excitement of climb through lush rain forest on lower slopes of mountain could be best compared to that of an Internet novice seeing profusion of incredible opportunities offered on Internet.
