Sunday, April 18, 2010

departure

Home. On a slow northbound trajectory. I have been excited for the turning point and it turns out to be quite different from the halfway point. The turning point is now.

Yesterday as I ran my final errands in Cusco I realized that I have spent more time here than anywhere in my travels. At the same time it feels like I have traveled more of my own path in this place than anywhere.

Cusco, a muddy depressing mess in recovery from floods when I arrived. I wanted to go home. Today, leaving toward home I realized in six weeks I have seen transformation. This city has worked so hard to go beyond repair and recovery. And the work is everywhere.

So has it been with me. Three weeks of meditation, yoga, fasting, breathing exercises etc... In this time I have felt enormous as a part of the greater whole of the universe moving in concert with the whole to evolve our reality. I have also felt smaller than a grain of sand with the whole of the universe saying, you are one grain of sand. All that you do is insignificant in the big picture.

Where is the balance in identity? Part of my take away is to know that all that I do is sigificant to me and that the butterfly theory applies to me as well as a butterfly. One conversation, one person inspired could have repercussions unknown and unplanned. Let's hope those repercussions are positive. :) but even that engenders responsibilty and awareness of my own words. I may never be significant but my life can be if I strive to be my best self.

Six weeks on and off in cusco and I see that I have embraced the friendly advice of John Perkins: be afraid of nothing, be aware of everything. As I have faced uncertain situations fear turns into courage because I have no choice but to move through it. As I become more courageous the heart opens and compassion flourishes. And I can better see what is right in front if me.

Six weeks to feeling home in a place where I was first afraid of despair. And I suspect there will be moments when I feel the pang of homesickness for cusco.

Homesick for the place my wallet was stolen. Homesick for the place where unknown friends became known and took care of me until funds arrived. A place that made me trust others and myself.

I walked around the town early this morning, mourning my departure from a place that has given me so much. Enjoying it as it started to come to life. I super appreciate those who have made my life here seem like home. besos!

passing beauty

I am on the bus to Cusco and the splenor of the landscape grips my attention. I had thought I would read through my bus trips but find that often I am content watching beauty as we pass over the world.

In Bolivia I observed an elegance in the desert. With little flora to enhance the beauty it somehow acheives elegance at the most elemental level. The mountains rise up without the texturing of flowers, trees and shrubs but instead are painted red, black, orange, white and gold by the mineral elements that have shown themselves on the surface. The landscape appears soft and surreal when in fact it is harsh and unforgiving. In the Bolivian desert life is a surprise. Unexpectedly, rabbit like creatures peek from rocks, vicuña bound across the plains towards the next water source. And when you arrive at the lagoons large flocks of flamingos congregate, the thirst if the vicunas is satisfied and sometimes a fox lurks. But as you travel through it, the sun is so bright, the air so dry and water so scarce that you hardly expect to come across life. To witness life in this environment is to see the strength of nature.

It makes me wonder what is the barest necessity for a beautiful life? Is a simplified life a more beautiful life?

Why is it that simplifying my life seems so complicated? How do I fit simplicity into my complex world? Sqeezing in meditation and rushing to yoga seems like the purpose is defeated. I want to garden more, sing and dance, cook for friends. It all takes time. And exercise? How to I best respect this body which is my vehicle for service? The answer is in the simplicity... The body thrives. However the work, the service done by the body adds the complexity. Oi vey... As grandma Jeanne used to say.

All this comes to mind as I transition from the austere beauty of Bolivia to the verdent highlands of Peru.

From my vantage point in seat numer nine, I see the earth as it was made, not as we have made it. Where there are people I see them working with the land that is. Living with the earth not so much on the earth. Their lives seem simple. Their lives seem far from easy.

A strangely beautiful part of being in the Andes is that I am living in a narrow band of sky. The clouds are so close, it often feels like walking in the sky. Sadly I feel like I am walking in the discovery channel as often as I feel it is reality. I don't even own a television and I feel like reality mimics tv.

How can I work in this world in a way that helps to create more natural authentic experiences for everyone?

I love the work that I do. I am ridiculously happy at the thought of returning to it. As I have traveled I have had conversations with people who enthusiastically endorse the need for BGI and those who are incredibly skeptical. Both types of conversations make me see the importance of this work. Both inspire me to spend my life making a better world possible.

So....
How do I come back into the work gracefully and maintain some of the simplicity of this time away? How to transition as naturally as the landscape rather than feeling like someone has simply changed the channel of my television?

borderline

So how was the border?

We arrived on the Peruvian side, stood in line, relinquished Peruvian visas. Walked across into Bolivia.

It was so easy. Another long line where I filled out paperwork, paid money, submitted photo I had taken just in case, showed my ticket out and gave a copy of my passport. There you have it, a few simple steps to being a happy US citizen in Bolivia!!!

Who could know that the return trip would prove more difficult.

Sitting contentedly on my direct bus back to Cusco we stopped for a routine check. Show the nice military man your passport and visa please. Not a problem. Back on the bus.

Exit bus to exit Bolivia. Fairly gruff but a quick process. I ask where I go next and get told "Peru". Not really helpful. Asking a second person yeilded the same answer. Mystified one of our party asked the obvious. where is Peru?I'm sure this is part of immigration's entertainment because they laughed and pointed across a bridge.

I walked across the bridge and it was not obvious where to go. I ask a police officer who takes me, not gently, by my elbow and steers me into the building on my left. It says national police, not immigration.

I am suddenly inside a movie. Concrete room, shuttered window, bare light bulb, one rickety table and two unsmiling officers.

"Tiene drogas?"

Do I have drugs. No, of course not.

They dump my handbag and my daypack out to search my belongings, repeatedly asking about drugs. How did I fall into this reality?

They look at my wallet. Since my wallet was stolen and I left my travel towell somewhere I have been using the mesh towell bag as my wallet. It has two pockets and it closes with a zipper. It's not ideal but it works and I have a wallet at home.

They wave the "wallet" in front of my face yelling because my money is disorganized. I explain slowly in my wonderful Spanish that my wallet was stolen and now this is all I have.

"Why is your money disorganized? Are you on drugs?"

No. All my money for a current country goes in one pocket. The back pocket is a mish mash of currencies.

"then where are your bolivianos?"

Because I am leaving Bolivia, I traded them for soles at the bus station this morning.

"entonces, no drogas?"

No.

"pass"

I start to organize my things.

"hurry! Get out!"

I shove things in my bag and leave, seeing two other girls waiting to go in. I cannot say anything as I am being escorted out.

Into immigration and three minutes later on the bus.

Now as I write this a woman next to me in the airport asks if they did not bring in women police for the search? I think the whole point was pulling in women just to terrorize. Good times for all in the border towns.

high on salt

So... I have developed some travel habits that are rather uncharacteristic of my Virgo nature. I am an admitted list maker, even for cleaning my house. Daily errands. Work. Travel itineraries. I like to know times and places. I bought innumerable guide books and read for months. I made plans. The books were heavy. I left them all at home. First step out of character.

I wanted to go to Bolivia but read that for US citizens it is very difficult. All the canadian, Aussie and European friends I've made empathized with laughter the plight if the American where visas are concerned. Reciprocity.

Bolivia: 140.00$, six months of bank statements, submit photo to government, itinerary, proof of ticket to exit. Apply at consulate three weeks in advance.

Forget it. I ruled Bolivia out.

QThen I chatted with some folks. No, aly, just show up at the border with passport, copy of passport and money. They'll let you in. Don't fly, it's harder.
So while in cusco with mickey I moved my own flight back a week and did a quick Internet search for a trip to the salt flats.

Wow. One company, direct bus to La Paz, transport to Uyuni and back again. No planning for five days. Awesome!

Direct bus overbooked. I got booted off twelve hour trip and on 22 hour trip. Lame. Off a semi cama (reclining with foot rest) to Classico (semi reclining no foot rest). Last leg, 8 hours no toilet. Grrr. :)

But arrival in la Paz went smoothly and overnight to uyuni was comfortable with only six of us on a bus. Two seats fully reclined is sort of like a twin bed. I slept.

With five others at 11 am we set off on three days of sights. The salt flats.... An incredible expanse of white. A village constructed from salt blocks. And fun with the camera too! We traveled between 4500 and 5300 meters all week. The sights left us breathless in all ways. The minerals of the area color lagoons in different ways. Each lagoon supported a population of flamingos.

Food was mediocre, housing like concrete bunkers, people great fun, worth the trip and the effort??? Absolutely. I rank my salt flats tour in my top ten. So much fun!

bouncing back... to peru

At four am I got up on April 1st to catch my plane to Lima. It is always a challenge to dress appropriately for transitions. Bundled in my warmest clothes I happily headed south to 85 degree sunshine.

First on our agenda in Lima was to take cate of machu picchu tickets. They went from non existent to sold out very quickly when it reopened. Through my guide book (everyone traveling thinks they are mis-guide books) we found Olga who informed us that there were tickets for one day only, round trip on the seventh. We paid, overpaid, in cash and were told to puck up tix at the office in cusco on the fifth. Leap of faith, but Olga seemed honest.

We left Olga in seach of lunch. Arriving at La Mar at 230 there were no tables available and quite a line. This did not bode well for hunger but created an expectation for the palate that was well met. Oh my god... The food was so good I am returning to Lima just to eat again! Thanks to Peter Doane for the hook up!

That night we met up with Paulina for some beverages. Next day we met my friends Paola & Jacob for sushi buffet. Also very delicious! Then off to cusco!

We spent Easter Sunday watching a military parade and hiking in the temple of the moon area. I had been before with my class. I should post my writing of that experience after this. So much for chronology. Mickey and I had a nice amble under clouds and blue skies. We,too, walked along a road thousands of years old. I showed her the temples of monkey and moon. It was a lovely arrival back to cusco.

Monday afternoon we went to the office for our tickets. Not there, but no worries, Sr Lizandro will have them at the hotel at 6 pm. Or not. Tuesday we went to Ollentaytambo to see ruins and visit with a BGI applicant who lives here working with a group of women weavers. Awamaki was an impressive vision of Kennedy's and after three years it is doing amazing work. This iswhy I love my job. So inspiring: the people I encounter!

We had Kennedy (with her VERY fluent Spanish) call Olga and Sr Lizandro as our supposed tix were for the next day. At 7 pm a very nice guy came and explained that we would leave at 330 am for the bus to catch the train. On the eighth. Wrong date! Some hurried calls and no worries, tomorrow we leave at 330. They will have our tickets then. Okay....

AND- it was amazing and super fun. We met a sweet Canadian woman and the three of us giggled our way through a tour. Being with people allowed me to be my silly self and we took photos of me swooning on rocks, glamour shots through ancient windows and mimicing the llama. Good times!

As we were heading back to the train we paused by the river. I can easily imagine after being here during the rainy season how powerful and damaging the floods must have been. The river was fierce! Just as I moved to capture it on video, my batteries died. Thankfully the end of the day!

We returned home, exhausted, quick dinner and sleep.

Thursday after breakfast we sought out the perfect place for Mickey to get her new tattoo. A beautiful Puma now covers a faded mickey mouse. This was my third friend to get a tattoo in Cusco with me alongside. From my perspective it looked painful but Mickey bore it well!!

Friday morning at 6 am Mickey left just as dawn was breaking and my twenty days of companionship from home came to an end. In a way it made being on my own a little more daunting. For the moment.

That night- direct bus to La Paz, another to Uyuni and my long anticipated tour of the salt flats!


aly

Friday, April 16, 2010

out of time...

I also want to add a word of apology that my posts are not nearly in real time. I write them in the notes section of my iPhone, a tedious task, email them to myself and then when I am at an internet center I can cut and paste them into the blog. Sometimes things just do not happen in a timely fashion. I also am not exhibiting the best writing skills for the same reason; typing on the bus usually on a small screen means there are typos and punctuation errors. When I type in an internet center the punctuation really goes out the window. For example, I have never found how to get the colon so you get ellipses. The question mark is questionable. I can see it but cannot make it happen on the screen. What to do... see, here a question mark would come in handy! I feel like a failed english major. I might conquer this handicap of ignorance if there was consistency from place to place in how to access these keys. Alas, that is not the case.

I thank you for your patience.

in joy,
aly

vacation from vacation

I have often heard others on this trip talk about their vacation from vacation. A funny concept until you spend months on end unpacking and repacking your bag moving from town to town and identifying yourself with a story day to day.

Spring break brought respite; vacation from vacation came to me in the form of Devin and Marshall on break from BGI.

I cannot describe how nice it was to stay in a house I know (thanks to Mimi and Jim!) with friends I love, cooking food that tastes of home. Just having a kitchen to play in and dinner conversation that extends beyond travel was a source if joy.

What did we do with ourselves? Not much. :) we went to Otavalo, visited weavers in Peguche, ate lunch at lake cuicocha, explored the town of cotacachi, Devin and I lounged in fluffy grass while marshall climbed to the top of fuya fuya. On all of our field trips we were accompanied by Patricio, our very sweet and competent taxi driver.

After four relaxing days at casa mojanda we left to stay at Secret Garden Cotapaxi. Secret Garden has been my favorite hostel in my travels. They are in Quito and provide a great community feeling with delicious dinners on a rooftop terrace. About 40 people eat there each night and many travel companions meet and make plans at this table. Secret Garden has a second location two hours away and this is where I went with the boys.

Secret Garden Cotapaxi is situated on the far side of a valley at the foot of a 5900 meter volcano: cotopaxi. The inn is off grid, dinner nightly by candlelight, after dinner music around the fireplace. Hammocks strewn around a patio. Need I say more? We drank beers, laid in hammocks, read books and discussed various ways we might make the world a better place. For two days.

One of the hostel workers observed that we were skilled in the art of doing nothing and we felt compelled on day three to do a hike. To 5000 meters. I was shocked at the difficulty I had breathing, stunned by the beauty, though. It's a funny thing, as a child I always envisioned the soul's location to be in or near the lungs. On this trip my lungs were burning, I could not speak: my soul was glowing, I had no words. My eyes, though, they were feasting and feeding the soul!

A perfect ending to our stay at cotopaxi, to feel as though you are on top of the world with much beloved friends.

Onward to Lima to meet Mickey and visit machu picchu!

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

marching into spring

A month ago, ago sitting in front of the cathedral in cusco my wallet went missing. I was waiting for my ride to my three week yoga workshop and in the midst of many offers to shine my shoes (which had been shined the day before) I lost a lot of money for the workshop and my debit card. Not ideal. However, had it been a week earlier it could have sent me home. To lose a debit card is rough in a foreign country. Wells Fargo was not especially eager to ease my troubles either. But my new aquaintances in my class stepped up and loaned a total stranger money and shared their food. For a girl who hates to ask for help this was yet another opportunity for learning.

Thankfully I was rescued by my parents who kindly sent me money for my retreat and the lodging. Whew! And knowing my new cards would be delivered by dear friends visiting at the end of the month, life became bearable on a tight budget.



So the yoga retreat. Last time I thought I would do s&e yoga was last summer. I made it about 12 minutes in to the video and decided I was bored and stopped. My first day at the retreat I went through two 1 1/2 hour ashtunga classes. With a light lunch in between. After the second class we moved into "training" which involved push ups and core work. The thought occured to me that I might just die.

Second day of class... Full moon. Traditional ashtunga practice on the full moon is 108 sun salutations. Gulp. I made it through 47 before I gave up and succumbed to shivasana also known as corpse pose. I excelled in shivasana! :) I forced myself up for the last few sets of sun salutations. I deeply admire my classmates who did it all. To be fair though, they had already been there for a few weeks. I was joining at the half way point.

After three weeks of yoga, meditation and fruit fast I left feeling stronger physically, emotionally and spiritually.

There were some days off the fast. With my limited budget I fell in love with the offerings of a woman known to us simply as the potato lady. For 1 sole (about40 cents) she makes perfectly fried stuffed mashed potatoes with a green dipping sauce. She rolled her cart into the street everyday around 5 pm.

To go to Cusco and see the Potato Lady we had to walk down a smelly muddy street to the main road and catch a cab. On the return trip we would pray that late at night we could bully and bribe the cabbie to drive us up the muddy road. (muddy with standing water and contributions from dogs, cows and pigs.)

Kiersten, one of my fellow classmates, had a heart of gold and took to feeding and naming all the random dogs on the walk. We always walked down with snacks for the dogs. Such kindness!

The situation with the stray dogs here is a daily heartbreak I never anticipated. You see the with mangy fur, with ribs protuding and all too often missing mobility in one leg as a result of a car hitting them. How it makes me miss Lucy! So the daily act of Kiersten walking, feeding and naming these dogs was deeply admired by all of us.

The retreat was actually a teacher training for three people and four of us were there for yoga and dream journeying. Basically visualization exercises. It was an interesting time. Towards the end Danny and Virginia came into the class and Paulina, who was staying at the retreat center, joined as well.

Somehow we decided to journey (physically not dreaming) on an impromtu trip to the jungle. We took an overnight bus to puerto maldonado and made our first home in a hostel that I cannot describe. However I would have gladly paid more for a toilet seat!

Thankfully we moved to a lodge outside the city complete with exotic animals, a yoga room (aka dining room), a wonderful owner and, yes, even toilet seats.

Pepe the howler monkey fell in love with Danny and curled his body around dannys head and neck. Pictures are, of course, on facebook!

Our final yoga class together was intense and the intensity of the heat of the jungle lent a bikram like affect to the class. Ashtunga is a very physical yoga in the cool of cusco. There were many moments where I considered collapse!

After a beautiful and intense evening together, with the sounds of the jungle unparalleled in my previous experience, I flew back to cusco and on to Lima.

In Lima I was down to 63 dollars... Incredible food town and I ate in something not unlike a denny's as far as quality goes. But I ate contentedly; Excited knowing within a few days Devin and Marshall would be arriving bringing with them a promise of cherished friends, comfort, much laughter and my debit cards!

As usual, typed on my phone. Sorry for typos!

In joy...
Aly