One reason Jobs was eager to make some money in early 1974 was that Robert Friedland,
1974 年初， 乔布斯急切地想要赚钱，
who had gone to India the summer before, was urging him to take his own spiritual journey there.
Friedland had studied in India with Neem Karoli Baba (Maharaj-ji), who had been the guru to much of the sixties hippie movement.
Jobs decided he should do the same, and he recruited Daniel Kottke to go with him.
Jobs was not motivated by mere adventure. "For me it was a serious search," he said.
"I'd been turned on to the idea of enlightenment and trying to figure out who I was and how I fit into things."
Kottke adds that Jobs's quest seemed driven partly by not knowing his birth parents.
"There was a hole in him, and he was trying to fill it."
When Jobs told the folks at Atari that he was quitting to go search for a guru in India, the jovial Alcorn was amused.
"He comes in and stares at me and declares, 'I'm going to find my guru,' and I say, 'No shit, that's super. Write me!'
And he says he wants me to help pay, and I tell him, 'Bullshit!'"
Then Alcorn had an idea. Atari was making kits and shipping them to Munich,
where they were built into finished machines and distributed by a wholesaler in Turin.
But there was a problem: Because the games were designed for the American rate of sixty frames per second,
there were frustrating interference problems in Europe, where the rate was fifty frames per second.
Alcorn sketched out a fix with Jobs and then offered to pay for him to go to Europe to implement it.
"It's got to be cheaper to get to India from there," he said. Jobs agreed.
So Alcorn sent him on his way with the exhortation, "Say hi to your guru for me."
Jobs spent a few days in Munich, where he solved the interference problem, but in the process he flummoxed the dark-suited German managers.
They complained to Alcorn that he dressed and smelled like a bum and behaved rudely.
"I said, 'Did he solve the problem?' And they said, 'Yeah.' I said, 'If you got any more problems, you just call me, I got more guys just like him!'
They said, 'No, no we'll take care of it next time.'"
For his part, Jobs was upset that the Germans kept trying to feed him meat and potatoes.
"They don't even have a word for vegetarian," he complained (incorrectly) in a phone call to Alcorn.
He had a better time when he took the train to see the distributor in Turin,
where the Italian pastas and his host's camaraderie were more simpatico.
"I had a wonderful couple of weeks in Turin, which is this charged-up industrial town," he recalled.
"The distributor took me every night to dinner at this place where there were only eight tables and no menu.
You'd just tell them what you wanted, and they made it.
One of the tables was on reserve for the chairman of Fiat. It was really super."