We fled the dong village at dawn and spent the rest of the day in transit to Shanghai. I don’t know whether it was because I was extremely tired but I cried entering into the city. I couldn’t help it. The sight was so devastating. Originally, I thought LA smog was bad, then I was appalled when I got to Beijing, and I don’t think anything could have prepared me for the pollution covering Shanghai. You see about a quarter to half mile ahead of you before the whole scene turns into a brown haze from the ground up. High rise labyrinths littered the sides of freeways and sported a coating of brown sludge on top of there paint; it resembled the snow directly adjacent to highways carrying diesel trucks. The amount of saplings and greenery on every over pass and turn off space gave an inclining that someone/something was trying to reverse the affects of over population. Despite the frequency of the shruberies, every green thing was covered in a thin brown layer and looked exhausted. Coming from the country side in full wet season to this site was a serious shock.
I tapped as a means to calm down but the emotion and visual is forever ingrained in my psyche. In desperation I tried to pull my thoughts away from dark places, away from the question of ” WHY are we here?” Not why are we here physically in Shanghai but “WHY can’t people see what’s happening to their environment?” I know better than anyone that these questions lead to circular thinking and narcissism, no where helpful or progressive, so I tried to turn my head around. I recalled the conversation that one of my chaperones and I had yesterday. He has his doctorates In Physical chemistry and spent his schooling studying the nitrogen cycle. He is a smarty pants that is fighting the good fight. He gave me some insight. He explained to me what I already knew was true about the what predictive models show our o-zone will look like within the next century; not good. After a moment of silence I asked him “Do you have hope?”
He is a man of many stories and launched into one for an explanation. He explained that he used to teach environmental studies. The students he taught continually informed him how depressing the class was. He agreed something needed to change. So he began teaching chemistry and encouraging students to come up with ways that we can improve. HOW can we make our world better? Since, he has had a class put together a proposal for a bio diesel generator. The generator has powered school fundraisers and prom! He’s got many more progressive experiments up his sleeve and I hope to stay in contact with him to find out how they go.
From his story I also found hope. Hope in the youth I work with, hope for my friends that are already working on the Question of HOW and faith that I can as well keep HOW rather than WHY on my mind.
Enough emotional and verbal vomit…
The end of the trip with my students was fabulous! Despite my feelings about the city the students loved it. The city is much more in their scope of comfort than mine. Our last day was a student plan and run day where I got to be the kid and they got to lead,”I have to go to the bathroom! Are we there yet?”
The students where empowered and enthralled to have my trust instilled in them to walk around the markets of Shanghai.
Closing circle was eye opening for me. During the trip I had blinders on, I was focused on facilitation. It was rewarding to hear the verbal affirmations of realizations they had made along the way. Some of these realizations included: connections between personalities, to social groups, to community, to culture, to world; friends of old can still be kept close; traveling and experiencing a place are different entities and ways of seeing the world; there are many ways to accomplish a goal and your idea may just be one acceptable option. I was blown away by the maturity the students demonstrated.
Saying good bye to a group is always emotional for me. Detaching myself from an intense and influential energy source so suddenly is difficult and draining. I got a bit emotional at the airport and shed a few tears after seeing the group off to security.
And then there was two. Kim and I made our way back to the hotel breakfast Buffett to briefly debrief with the other leaders. I came to the realization that I did a lot of foundational work with my group. We laid bricks that can be reflected upon and built upon in the future. After eating ourself into a food coma, Kim and I proceeded to sleep for six hours, woke, walked, zombied about, ate suchi, talked, and slept again.
Sometimes a screeching child, children.
There’s always that point In a trip where the initial magic wears off and real colors begin to bleed through, mine, yours there’s, ours. It’s like in a relationship when that first in love infatuation disappears, sometimes we get a bit sensitive.
For me, I get triggered when expectations are not met, which just goes to show that expectations do not lead to the best emotional out come. Secondly, lack of follow through really grinds my gears. It’s hard to have great plans and verbiage but it really means nothing without physical follow up. As a group we hit this pivotal point and our colors where bleeding.
Spirits and energy levels where low and we where headed for our service projects where we would be laying cement… Yup. I let a bit of ego shine threw at a few 15 year olds, they got to me right at the end of the day.
We had one last bag of cement to mix and pour, all the tools to clean and our in country guide was pointing at the ominous black storm front headed for us telling me 30 more minutes; I don’t like leaving a job incomplete. Only a few of the students jumped in to help while the others stood and questioned why the last bag of cement had been opened in the first place; admittedly an honest mistake on someone’s part. My pushy driver side decided to hotly get some boys, that continued to mill and contemplate, to work. My ego trigger, triggered there defensive 15 year old ego, but the cement got laid.
Later that evening my chaperone and I sat down with some of the students and talked out the day. I got some very helpful feedback. It is true in some high intensity situations that are time sensitive I can get impatient. With that impatience I can let communication fall through. These youngsters help me to find self awareness and clarity. Turns out after debriefing the day with the whole group our bleeding colors created a beautiful master piece of teamwork, bonding, awareness and a cement walkway with a tile mosaic.
My third trigger is continuous screening about bugs and spiders in the hotel at all hours. Tonight’s meditation is on purpose:
– consider your purpose at this point in your life.
– consider what you think the purpose of your parents is
– consider the life and goals of the peoples of the community in which we are staying
– consider the purpose of the animals in our immediate surrounding
– consider the the purpose of the bugs and spiders in this establishment, and for just a moment before you smash them with your shoe, consider that a life is a life…
A recollection: the Rice Terraces and the Dong Village
For the past week we have transitioned from some what rural China to the country. Our fist step was the Dragons Backbone Rice Terraces. In the three hour drive to the terraces the scenery turned from green to greener. We wound up and into the misty mountains covered in subtropical forest composed of pine and bamboo; a very new combination for me indeed. Even more peculiar where the patches of taro and bananas mixed into this pine, bamboo scramble. The bus driver taking us to the bottom entrance of the terraces drove with the intensity of a city slicker around the blind corners. It was the first time I had used a seat belt all trip.
We had an hours hike up hill to our accomidation. The sweat was well worth it, the view was incredible. The entire valley we where in has been progressively developed for the past 600-700 years! Nearly every hill top was terraced at conture. The entire valley looked similar to a giant National Geographic topographic map, but entirely more beautiful. At dawn and dusk the light was just right to reflect off each water filled terrace creating what looked like an interrupted mirror of the sky.
The houses where huge wooden establishments built in traditional fashion using no nails; each floor and plank was held together through an interlocking and wedging method. The smell of pine emanating from the wood was so strong you could taste it. One down side of these beautiful structures was that they are not insulated; you could hear the person a floor down and two rooms over picking there nose. Now imagine bringing a stampede of teenaged elephants into this quiet, country escape. Guests of our acomidations, please forgive us.
The second step of our journey took us further into the mysterious country side of China to the Dong Village. Again, we stayed in a 4 storied wooden fortress that smelled of forest and earth, and with all twenty of us inside sounded like a freight train. Our hotel was built on the river bank over looking the villages 100 year old bridge, the entire village, a few of the garlic chive fields and the mist covered mountains across the river. Every room had a view that made up for the bed; a piece if ply wood with a down cover.
We where lucky to have hiked to the beautiful overlook day one of our stay because each day proceeding was cloudy. The entire valley is composed of water sunken fields. Each field is supplied with water by bamboo water wheels connected to the rivers edge. Above the fields rise the three to four story high wooden homes topped with intricate tiled roofs. Climbing the hills above the houses are rows upon rows of tea plants, deep green in color underneath with fluorescent green tops. Behind these hills are silhouetted mountains covered with splashes of bamboo and pine forest with white mist literally dancing down and through the many valleys. INCREDIBLE!
We spent two days doing service at a school tucked away in a high mountain village about an hours drive from our hotel. I loved the drive. Half of it boasted the views of the river valley and the other half of the jaw dropping bigger picture; many river valleys rippling into the mist. The whole picture is like something out of a dream.
The first day at the school we mixed three bags of cement and got to bond over physical labor. The second day my students quite successfully taught the children English. After class we got to hang out with a few of the village youngsters. I was privileged enough to be invited into a game of “village rasource” happy sack. I so dubbed this game “village resource” happy sack because the clever girls I was playing with had made our sack out of foliage growing in a near by planter. They stripped the stems of the leafs and used the remaining vascular system like rope to thatch all the leaves together!
Our time in the Dong village was most surely my favorite part if the trip.
Ask and the Universe shall provide… I wanted to use the bath tub
The second leg of our trip took us into a more rural area of China, Jung Shuo. We where not fully immersed in the country as there is a main city vain that lay ten minutes away from our accommodations. As near as the city was I could still here the birds and the bugs during the twilight hours. My room was a dream room. My bathroom had a window that looked over my plush pillow covered bed, out onto my balcony and into the sub tropical jungle of China. As I sat on my temporary thrown for the first time, I couldn’t help but think how relaxing it would be to use the bath tub and look out onto the beautiful view. We had two nights so it could totally be possible.
Upon arrival to our hotel our guide took us on a stroll through the small anex that we would call home for the next two nights. The people of this community still practice agriculture. Every house has a beautiful, integrated garden. Beans and squash grew up bamboo tripods or covered slopes to hold earth. Eggplants and peppers where planted in neat rows amongst peanuts being used as ground cover. I saw a plant that nearly resembled edible hibiscus and another few trees that looked like a relative of the kekui nut. Lemon grass and other fragrant herbs where front door and perimeter decorations and bug repellents, and every house had at least one lychee tree. Outside the housing area lay communal wet land growing fields full of rice, taro, water chestnuts and other root plants I don’t know. All of this lay at the base of the majestic, spired mountains that one would normally see depicted in Asian art.
Our first day in Jung Shuo was fun filled with rafting and our second day was just as eventful. The second day started with a cooking class. We learned to make Gung pow chicken, dumplings and eggplant.
After lunch we headed for the mud caves, which are material for movies. To get to the caves we had to ride in a hand drawn boat through a low hanging tunnel. I might be mistaken but it would seem that Walt Disney got some inspiration for the Pirates of the Caribbean ride from this particular cave. After docking in the cave we proceeded into the mountain. We where completely immersed in this underground labyrinth. At times the passageway opened up into an area with high vaulted ceilings which then ascended into crawl spaces in which you had to doge, duck, dip, dive, and doge stalactites and stalagmites. We crossed through underground streams and slipped our way into the final cave, “The Mud cave.”
What proceeded was one of the most filthy mud fights I have ever been apart of. I can only recall I few times I have been so dirty. I took it upon myself to make sure people felt comfortable and acquainted with their surroundings by rubbing their backs with hand fills of soft mud. The sensation of walking from the center of the pit to the outside of the pit was very unique. I could feel the increased viscosity of the mud, the thickening of the liquid as I moved! Right about at peak fun is when it happened.
One of my students took a mud clobber to the face, more specifically to the eyes. I took calm action rinsing the eyes out but It became apparent after about five minutes of rinsing and increased pain, panic and screaming, that we had a more serious situation on our hands. Getting all the mud we physically could out of the eyes we began the slow and daunting journey back out the way we came. Thank goodness for all my training through the Chasm of Doooom and the SEA with Boojum. This was a real blind trust activity, the poor thing couldn’t open their eyes! On the way out we only encountered one slip up and it wasn’t a slip. My student accidentally grabbed on to the jerry rigged electrical wire that was helping to light our way and electrocuted both of us! I was pissed at whoever thought it was a good idea to place wires as railing level in a cave! Ah yes and the same way out meant not only getting back through the labyrinth passage ways but also taking the boat back out. Finally we emerged and rushed to the med center. In which time it started to POUR.
I am so grateful that one of my chaperones speaks fluent Mandarin. We had a communication relay going between the Dr., the chaperone and myself. Alas the clouds parted and the lightning stopped, this is no figure of speech. The students pain subsided and eyes became open and clear and the sky opened and we left the med center with ice cream and a rainbow: quite literally.
The student could not use the shower because their eyes could not get wet. Inevitably my tub got used, not by me, to wash hair and keep eyes dry.
Beijing CHINA
Can’t believe it’s been a week since I arrived, then again, Arkansas seems like a distant dream. I was lucky enough to spend three beautiful days in China with out students. The adjustment time wasn’t too terrible and it was really lovely getting to spend time with the other leaders in country site seeing. We started off the trip with a BANG.
After an eleven hour flight, a dizzying hours drive into the Dong Cheng district to our hostel, we took our first cruise through the streets of the city. The Dong Cheng district is a very quaint area with lots of touristy shoppes and fun alley ways to wonder down. We walked to the river then quested for a place to eat. At this point I was sinking pretty deep. I agreed to some food though and what an agreement I made. For our first meal in China we happened to pick a restaurant that specialized in donkey meat. Correct, donkey. I’ve gone from vegetarian to donkey eating very quickly. I ordered a donkey type wrap thingy… I wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between donkey and pastrami. It wasn’t bad
As much as being with the other leaders was amazing, per usual, I did get a bit overwhelmed with the amount of energy and information and stories about trips of your that where flying around. I finally got some quiet space with Kim one morning as three other groups started there trip. Kim and I drank coffee, talked and planned for about three straight hours. It was the quiet space I needed to organize my thoughts and get my homework done.
Another challenge that I had been facing, up until today actually, was my presence here in country.
I have been restless settling in here. Mainly due to the fact that I finally decided that I want to have a bit more stability in my life and be a bit more rooted in California so as to be with friends and family, and I uproot and leave for China! My girlfriends are all together at a music festival and it seems everyone I love has fun summer events that they are traveling to and from. I have felt pulled in two directions. One direction is with friends and comforts and home life and the other is an opportunity to make an impact with the youth of California.
The first two days with the students has been exhausting! Literally JAM PACKED days of site seeing and air travel, quite seriously both in on day. Today they changed my mind. Today I made friends with my students. The Chaperones are unbelievably interesting and real which is great but the students are so key. We spent the day bamboo rafting the Jungshuo river.
None of us knew what the rafts where going to look like, the lack of expectation made the actual raft that much more funny. Twelve posts of bamboo strapped together with a light weight park bench like double rcliner seat, also made of bamboo, an umbrella if you where lucky and a personal paddler on each vessel. We got bombarded by women selling water guns immediately and I was not about to pass those up on a river trip. So, all ten bamboo ships where equipped with one water gun each, including the Chaperones. What followed was about an hour and a half of laughing and water explosions. I paired up with the girl LOD for the day and we went to work. A full on war erupted between the final four boats to set off. We had one girl who we called the “Power Pump” as she could blast about 20 blows a minute continuously. I discovered that my newly purchased rice hat was an efficient shield. Though my friend and I had to work at our efficiency as in our excitement of the discovery her first blast shot straight into the hat, deflected and splashed me! I felt like I was also 15 again. I got to continue to encourage fun and serious water splashing way beyond the point any normal adult would consider fun or funny. I don’t think I have EVER had so much fun in a water fight before today!!! We had so much fun between the last four rafts that we broke two of the guns!
On the intermittent moment that water stopped flying at my face I got to sit back and admire the enormous cliffs shooting out of our river valley, covered in greenery and fading shades of tan, orange and yellow rock. The look is all very Thailand-esc except there are taro and rice fields that sprawl the bottom valley.
I am fully present now and am so excited to spend the next nine days exploring, laughing and discovering. I am excited to aid these youngsters on their own path to self discovery and have already started meditations and conversations. I titled my discussion series ” A divulgence into the depths of differentiations on a path to self discovery.” It’s going well.
If anyone would like to follow along:
1. Mindfulness
What does mindfulness mean to you?
What does it mean to have a closed mind?
What does it mean to have an open mind?
What are things you notice that you are close minded to?
What are you more drawn to be open minded towards?
How can you bring further awareness and acceptance to the things you are closed off to?
How can you share those things you are passionate and open minded to?
2. Culture in respect to food
How would you define culture?
What cultural things do you and your family practice?
What are some cultural norms in the US? In China?
How do you feel about these differences?
What do you normally eat at home?
What is distinctly different about the food in China and the food from home?
How does the food in China make you feel? Make you smell?
Can you put yourself in the shoes of a 15 year old from China visiting the US? Can you feel their hesitancy about the change in diet, in environment?
A remembrance in Arkansas
Back in November on the legendary island of Hawaii I completed my 200 hour yoga teacher training with Sadie Virginia. Those many months ago I made a promise to make a visit out to see her when the weather got warm enough to take a canoe trip down the Buffalo river. Another lesson that I have learned along my travels is that the deeper connections you make with certain individuals are worth nurturing; this friendship is worth every bit of nurturing.
Upon arrival I was thrown into a world of progressive people my age that are passionate about making a difference in their community. Their passions are very entangled in mine, food and education. Both passions where stoked up and set ablaze once again in Arkansas. I say once again because I had forgotten. I had forgotten what fuels my passion for food, plain and simple good wholesome clean food. Food clean of pesticides and GMOs. Food that has been grown locally with love and prepared with the same adoration and care. I forgot how much I love to have my hands in the dirt. I had forgotten that the food prepared in restaurants is not coming from the families backyard or farm over the next hill like it had in Peru. If I had asked where my food was coming from the people would probably have gladly taken me back to meet the rest of their chicken flock. Sadly I had forgotten that it takes 10,000 years for plastic to decompose and become blinded to its insistent prevalence in our EVERYDAY LIFE.
Sadie and her partner Bill opened my eyes and helped me reAwaken. They also enlightened me to the world of young entreepanurship. Bill, Sadie and their great friend Matt own a skate, art and women’s yoga/active wear shop. Their shop is based in the ideals of responsible consumerism, carrying products made in the US, locally and with the environment in mind. I was blessed enough to get the opportunity to accompany them on a few meetings regarding a festival they are putting on in collaboration with their other young business owning friends; one owns a cold press juice shop, the other a clothing and art company. This group is inspiring not only to me but obviously inspiring their greater Fayetteville community.
I have made forever friends in Fayetteville and fallen in love with Arkansas and the Ozarks! It was a bitter sweet trip to see Sadie and Bill. They are well rooted in their community. They have a beautiful wooded home with a garden, two dogs and a cat, Curtis, that snuggled me every night. They have purpose in their community and they still get time to get out an travel. Their set up is something that I would love to work towards in the future; slowly moving towards grounding.
Sadie is one of the most giving beings I have ever met. She openly gives her merchandise to the ones he loves and openly shares her yoga practice with anyone who is interested. It was refreshing to practice and share with her. As well she set me up to teach a free community class in studio! My first studio class! The class went smoothly and I felt so at home and ease leading. That practice with those Fayetteville individuals who I didn’t know struck a “home string;” I felt at home on my mat. The feedback I got was great, I even got compliments on my playlist! This is also a feeling I would like to foster in the upcoming…. Year.
I left Arkansas with the memories of running flat out through the woods of the Ozarks, the taste of deer chili in my mouth, and an adornment of Arkansas crystals. Until next time Fayetteville.
Filling in the missing pages …
Upon my return from Peru I opened more than a few texts and emails asking for the season finally of my trip to Peru, which I knew was coming. There was also a surprising number of people that reminded of the purpose of this blog, ” one woman’s tale of her adventures out of a backpack.” Seeing as how my life still resides in my backpack and I am currently on a plane to China, my story has yet to come to a close.
THANK YOU, to all of you who helped me to this realization and gave me such beautiful feedback. I am truly grateful.
So what happened upon my return?! Welp, I only gave myself three days to transition from plane to work… Maybe not the best idea but a body in motion stays in motion. I found myself getting dropped off in the heat of the Joshua Tree desert with a gang of dirt bags aka dear friends, some old and some new. In all honestly getting welcomed back to the US by the Booju, community was the best way to return. Never in my live have I worked with more passionate, goofy and fun loving group of people. Within twelve days of being in the country I had lead a full course, made a handful of new friends and entered into brand new territory with a passionate new man.
The month of April seems more like a dream than reality. I have not had a full blown spring in two years and in reality have never in my life really appreciated spring to its fullest. Between the Joshua tree wild flowers and the flowers I encountered in Folsom, Santa Cruz, Pinnacles, Camario, and Calabases, I fell in Love. It was invigorating and rooting to once again be sleeping outside under the stars were I feel most alive and most balanced. Even though April was filled with work it was also filled with friends and it really didn’t feel like work at all. Especially because after work was over we all stayed to play for a week in Joshua Tree. I have images of standing on the tops of rocks in Hidden Valley forever ingrained into my memory. There is something untouchable about the feeling of accomplishment and intimate trust you create with those that you climb with. There is also something untouchable about the time spent going through your college crap in the garage with your Dad, finding silly items like Melvin (a fake raccoon skin hat) and watching your Dad sport the hat the rest of the day. Dad I love you. Like I said, Spring was a dream, is a dream.
Leaving Joshua tree and saying “see you laters” to the ones I love was difficult. I felt like I had just started to find my rhythm and I was uprooting again.
I was off to Arkansas!
Loki Mancora, Peru’s version of Hotel California
Where to being, where to begin. In the words of the Mad Hatter I will start at the beginning and when I get to the end I’ll stop.
After 19 hours on semi treacherous coastal roads I finally stepped off the bus to explore Mancora in the morning heat. I had no hostel reservation, the bus station had no maps, so I did what anyone would do and started down a street towards the ocean with my life on my back. I had a general idea of where I was from maps I had looked at previously. I walked for two hours stopping in at a few different places to channel my inner Marta and ask as many questions as possible; pricesess, work trade, yoga? The responses where unsatisfactory but entertaining non the less. One campground manager tried to lure me in with moi Thai classes and a joint to share. Another “camp and stay” hostel pointed me in the direction of where to camp, turns out the side of the road only cost 10 soles a night($3)! Feeling indifferent I picked up a Chuppi and headed for the other side of town where the more well know travel hostels could be found. The white wall and castle sized wooden door of Loki Mancora greeted me with unspoken possibilities. Speaking Spanish with the woman working the information desk was the right idea. Moli, gained my respect and friendship that minute. Moli is one of those people that you meet and instantly connect with because you know you’ve met before; before, before. Moli set me up with the bar manager for a little chat about working behind the bar for two weeks, I still didn’t have a reservation. Two hours later I had a “Loki nights” shirt and was set up to train and work in two days time.
So began my stay at Loki. I took only two pictures of the staff room I stayed in, Kindergarden. I refused to enter the other, the Jungle. The staff dorms where covered in sharpie graffitied. Kindergarden had its own splattering of profanities, penises, vaginas, diagrams on “how too’s” of the worst sort, Spanish I will not translate, and the apex of it all was a four foot web of peoples names connected way more intimately than the thin line of sharpie could portray. The smell oozing out of the Jungle was indescribably disgusting. My thoughts raced my first day, “Where am I and what the HELL did I just get myself into?” The benefits where worth while and the prospect of not having to pack my backpack in two days was tantalizing. I took myself out for another stroll to get to know the area around the hostel and to check out rental prices for surf boards. Upon arrival at “Good People” surf shop I once again made instant friends, Christian and Carlos. These two where my men of Mancora. The three of us went out to eat together, went out to surf together and occasionally drank and where merry on the beach.
Here is where my experience takes a divergence, one a tale of the sea and one a tale of madness, both have one grand over lying theme, community.
THE SEA
The first two days of attempted surfing were a travesty, especially the second day. I couldn’t catch a wave and I was terrified of the loco locals aggressively mastering the fast, left, point break Manora has to offer. The second day I went out I was way out of my league with the size of the waves, got seriously pummeled on the rocks and swam to shore defeated. My pride and confidence was smashed to pieces and I was scared to the point of tears. It took me two days to get back into the water and when I did get back in I got smart. I picked up a boogie board and charged. I spent two days ripping around on the boogie board. At first I got laughed at by the locals but after the end of the second day I had gained a bit of rapor. In those two days boogie boarding I familiarized myself with the break and regained my confidence. I surfed everyday after for 16 days. Work was second and waves came first, quite literally first thing in the morning. Everyday was different; different water conditions, different wind conditions and, not to be fooled by the locals wearing wetsuits whom had no idea what cold Pacific water really feels like, the water was always warm. When I got the chance to sleep, which was rarely, I dreamt of surfing. When I was on break, I watched the surfers from the highest railing by the bar. It became a bit of an obsession. I made good friends with one of the three other women that frequented the break, a German girl on her winter break. Most days we where out numbered three to about thirty dudes, not always a predicament. Many a time towards the end of my session Davey Jones with the two gold front teeth, or Marco with the sweet talk and innocent smile that was laced with promiscuity, or Jaime my rental man and coach would grab my board at the last minute and throw me into a wave with more velocity than I could muster with my arms. Jaime was the only Peruvian man out there that I really trusted to have good intentions, he had a wife and kids. The rest most certainly didn’t have wives and goodness knows if they had kids. Regardless of the surfer boys’ intentions it was nice to have people to say hello to in the streets as well to have strong men watching my back in the evening ( Hahaha). It was an adjustment to a new normal for sure, the whole trip has been. By the end of my stay in Mancora I could competitively catch a 5 foot wave on a 6 foot board, stand up, and begin to cave slowly. My body had taken quite a beating from the rocky point. I came back with a new cut or cuts everyday, the deepest of which is still healing (more than a month after my return!) Loosing a bit of blood was only just a physical reminder of the work I put in all month and I had nothing but fulfillment for my accomplishments on a board; no matter how small they may seem. I had only intended to stay 14 days in Mancora and then continue onto Huaraz to trekk the tallest peak in Peru. However, my surf obsession, new found community, and consistent checking of the weather in rainy Huaraz kept me in Mancora for another six beautiful days. Along with not missing a day of surfing I never missed a sunset. Twenty days of sunset yoga and meditation sessions. Here is where we find the intersection of the tale of THE SEA and…
THE MADDNES
Loco Loki, as it was rightfully nick named by the locals, was the bane and center of my existence. For twenty days, I worked seven hours a day, four days a week for a bed in Kindergarden, one free plate of food, and 40% discount on all other food and beverages. However, adult beverages where most always free because friends worked behind the bar. Luckily I only had to work two night shifts at Loki. I happily offered to work the morning shift because no one really woke up till after noon and by the time the shift started at 9am I could catch two hours of quality surf. I was a different fish compared to Loki’s usual catch. I had left the lifestyle of binge drinking every night and promiscuity many years previous. At Loki, beer pong started at 10 am and lasted till the bar closed at 2am. Beer was served as long as the bar was open and hard alcohol started flowing at 1 pm. Many mornings I would start work serving the wildlings that where still high from their nights adventures and near misses with the law, idiots. Regardless of there state, they where always good for a story. Two come to mind. The first from a young Brit whom had tripped on LSD the night previous and claimed an eel penetrated and commandeered his body. The eel always had control of one of his limbs and would cause it to convulse. If one limb stopped shaking another would start. I made sure he got lots of water that morning. Another story, a bit on the darker side of life and travel, is of corruption. A group of Loki guests got pulled over by the police in a tuk tuk early one morning solely under suspicion. One of the guests had illegal substances. The cop arrested all three, two male, one female, and put them in the back of a cop car. The cop then proceeded to barter and bribe the three for there release. Luckily one new a bit of Spanish and was able to talk the cop out of a very highly priced bribe and a bribe for the female. The cop got paid off and the three walked back to the hostel. It turns out that the tuk tuk drivers more often than not have contracts with the corrupt police and get a cut of whatever bribe the cops gets out of the unsuspecting victims. Unfortunately this tale was only one of many. Loki’s crazy party hungry guest draw the wrong kind of attention in a corrupt town like Mancora. I made sure to loose my Loki wristband first thing and there after befriended all the gate keepers as well as the rest of the local staff, security, cleaning crew, receptionists, and bar staff. A few are note worthy to mention.
Santos was my favorite keeper of the door. He had very small facial features on a very big head. He reinforced the stereotype that all Peruvian men, no matter how old, think they can make it with any lady they please. Regardless, Santos touched my heart with his kindness and conversation. His second job was opening coconuts on the beach so lucky me being his “Mejor amiga de els corazon” got free coconuts. He also introduced me to a brilliant concoction called the CocoLoco, coconut with rum and lime poured into it!!! Ah Santos I will never forget you, you creepy old man you.
Others that I will never forget worked as my fellow lady bar staff and receptionistas. Elle was my first and best friend behind and outside of the bar. Elle stands about 4 foot something but loves tall foreign white men. We would laugh for hours and after we would go exploring to find the best ice cream in town; which we did! Elle was, is, a great friend.
Claudia worked the front desk and was just about the sweetest thing around. We would go out after the bar closed and dance salsa on the beach till the beach bars shut down. She took care of me when I sliced my finger on a glass that had broken in my hand on a particularly rough night shift. After visiting her was my excuses to get away from the bar when I was on shift.
Kaylee bears, Michelle, and Alek were the three people that truely made my stay worth while. All four of us worked as volunteers behind the bar as well, we were all roomies. Alek and I started work together and ended work together. He is a wild Canadian that works in the national parks seven months out of the year and then travels the remaining five. He is raw, honest and always down to go to the beach. The kindness he showed to me is unforgettable. I recall one awful night Alek found me wrapped around the toilet with a fit of food poisoning. He had the same bit the day before and decided to take his shift off work and we would recoup together. Thereafter he cap fed me water and powerade, and rubbed my back till I fell asleep. He showed this unconditional love and kindness to everyone he met.
Michelle is a chilled out chick from Santa Barbra. We spent many a days out on the water together and even more behind the bar working. It was great getting to connect with a fellow Californian. Michelle was always down for an adventure out of Loki and in Loki as well.
Kaylee was traveling with her boyfriend through all of Central and South America and was on her way back up north when we met. Kaylee unknowingly taught and enlightened me on a few different things in life. Like Moli at the front desk, Kaylee and I connected instantly. We would sneak away like little girls giggling to go take moon lit walks on he beach; and we always brought protection, our pocket knifes just in case, Haha. We spent hours taking about life and relationships and energy and manifestation and everything. She wasn’t afraid to take a conversation to the “next level.” Kaylee taught me about love. Before meeting her I had subconsciously built walls, perimeters and expectations about love and relationships. Kaylee opened my mind to the simple truth that love is worth perusing even if there is a definite end to it in the future. Regardless, learning about yourself and your needs as well as the needs of a partner is a passionate and beautiful experience. It is silly writings this now because it is so simplistic and something my teenage heart deeply believed in, yet something I have forgotten over the years. We have made plans for many adventures in the future and I know that we will be reunited one day soon!
Sleep didn’t come easy in the mix of the madness. In actuality, I probably slept four hours a night, surfed two or more, worked seven, and practiced yoga for one. My bed was the loveliest in kindergarden because it had graffiti flowers and quote about living life to the fullest. Surprisingly twenty days flew by and I found myself leaving my mark on the polluted walls. I found the one spot that had yet to be touched, the ceiling. In large letters I left the words “Beauty can be found in truth,” for the wildlings to mill over in their perma- drunken state.
Upon my departure Moli and Elle accompanied me to the buss station and paid for the tuk tuk fare there. Moli hooked it up and sent me off with an assortment of decadent bread rolls and a coke; apple cinnamon cakes and garlic onion bread. We had been out to the beach to do a slow flow yoga practice and meditation the day before and she found out I like delicious breaded treats. Before her and her dog Coco left ( before the Budapest she is not good at good byes) she told me that I had changed her life… I was thoroughly taken back by this statement and didn’t think I had any credit to take in the change. To this day I am still boggled at the kindness she showed me and the deep connection I immediately felt with her. The interesting fact that just by being myself I can have a deep impact on someone’s life is inspiring and a bit overwhelming all at the same time.
I promised Elle I wouldn’t cry until I got on the bus, which is exactly what I did, and once the flood gates broke they stayed open for a while. I was a slobbering mess. I can’t remember the last time I cried for so long or the last time I felt so heart broken. It took me a while to figure out why I did feel so heart broken as I have left many other places and not felt nearly as sad. I came to this conclusion and life revolution:
Before living in Mancora I considered the kind of work lifestyle I found there to be below me. My thought was that the people behind the bar, or the guys constantly giving surf lessons, or my friend selling coconuts on the beach didn’t have any ambition. Why where they not striving for more? In reality it turns out their the ones that have more. They have a community that supports them and that they support. They live simply for what makes them happy and make enough to get by. The shallow reality of the United States self constructed societal standards began to sink in. A wall of “shoulds” and “shouldn’ts” crumbled in my mind that day. The voices of so many of my peers and family asking where I’m going with my future, quieted. The questions of, what am I passionate about and what makes me happy, began to roll around in my dome.
With all this said, to play devils advocate, I also found a new appreciation for the United States. Admittedly I have often fled the country on excursions because I couldn’t stand the entitlement of people and what seemed to me ignorance towards many environmental issues. I still have a very hard time just looking at a Target or Walmart let alone going into one. In Peru there was no presence of these super stores in the country but I could see a push for this type of Mono culture in Lima. Truth be told is that the environmental issues the US face are the same that Peru, and the rest of the world are also facing. Stories of food, air and water pollution and big name corporations trying to keep it that way resounded from many travelers. In the US I have the ability and education to make responsible choices. The difference between the US and Peru is that many people in the US have the education and ABILITY to make conscious decisions and ARE. We have laws for fuel emissions and protection of wetlands. Granted, as my mother often reminds me, some of these environmental laws can be a bit strict when it comes to trying to implement resourceful things like a high speed rail system through California.
I could ramble on in circles for a while but the point being is that I have finally found pride for my country and a greater appreciation for our education systems (however twisted some of the public systems maybe). The US is still looked to as a trend setter for the rest of the world. In my idealistic and optimistic reality, I dream of healthy trends being set and responsible choices being made. I also believe that these trends need to be set by the people and not the politicians.
I mulled all this over in the returning 19 hour bus ride from Mancora to Lima; between the crying and heavy philosophical thoughts my head was about to explode. When I finally arrived I checked into a hostel and headed straight for the ocean and the surf board rentals.
I spent the last hours of my trip in Peru catching waves on a long board and watching the sunset. I will never forget the electric orange, pastel pink and perfect midnight blue that can only be see at sunset, reflect off the rippling waves. It was the perfect closure for South America and for this adventure. Until next time….
The Second Chapter
He journey away from Cusco began the second chapter in my Peru Jouney. The first portion of this chapter flew by in a whirlwind of events. I arrived in Puno at four in the morning, hooked up with a travel agent and purchased a one night two day tour through the Peruvian portion of the Lake. Lake Titikaka is the second highest lake in the WORLD and looks like an ocean. Big sky covers the clear blue green waters sprinkled with tall reeds along the edges and the Andes run proudly over the Peruvian border and spill down into Bolivia. The lake in its beauty and vastness is breath taking. I was feeling emotionally more stable after I found an Isralie girl whom I could speak English with, I now understand the idea of a home language. We visited three islands in all, one of which was something out of Middle earth. The Uri people lived on floating islands that they made out of the lake reeds. Each island has it’s own president whom decides the number of people allowed on the island and each island eats and lives of the reeds! I was not very impressed with the tour of the islands sourly because I didn’t like the impact I was making in touring them as I was, though I was short on time. I was trying to get to the North of Peru to be in the waves and sunshine as quickly as possible. Immediately after finishing the tour of Lake Titikaka I hoped on a bus to Ariquipa, spent a long night in the Ariquipa bus station and hoped on another bus to Nazca at 4 am. I made a new friend right off the bat from Beging, Kody. Kody and I spent the next 48 hours together, I her translator and guide through the markets and madness of Nazca and she my side kick who knew how to haggle for room and a plane over the famed Nazca lines.
We flew over the Nazca lines in a six engine prop plane with another new Dr. Friend. Our Dr. Friend specialized in leach therapy and had flown to Peru with her babies and put them all over her body to get them threw customs, hahahaha! A bit of my life was complete after flying over the lines. The mile stretches of perfectly symmetrical petroglyphs in the middle of the Peruvian desert that can only be seen by a plane and that I had watched mystery shows about on the history channel since I was a chil, life is good. My time in Nazca was also short lived and I hoped on a bus to Lima before heading on my long journey north to Mancora.
I followed my Heart
Cusco was tranquil. I did laundry, I ate, and of course I found myself sitting in a plaza. I was drawn to a man sitting across from me playing guitar, obviously he was as well as he came over and introduced himself. We got to talking and he invited me to join him and his group of 14 friends to go to the sacred valley and work a bit in a farm community. I got the chance to meet a few of his friends, me. And women, and where surprised at how open and friendly they where; not threatening. That evening I met a young American that had just ridden his bike from Panama to Peru and was planning to move to LA to enter into the world of film. He invited me to join him and his friend to go to Puno. Decisions. In my drunkenness I made a Vendiagram before passing out:
Puno:
Expensive
Comfort
Intellectual conversation
Other possibilities to meet again in CA
Tourist tour with travel agency
US friends
Very safe
Outdoorsie people
Argentinian gypsies:
Minimal money needed
Unconfirt/ risk of std ( mind you this is a drunken listing)
Music and dancing
Picking avocados
Worldly friends
Unknown
Sleeping outside!
Brother Mikes dream ( I told him I couldn’t feel my head or stomach…)
I had a hard time deciding whether or not to meet with the Argentinians or go to Puno. I decided to take a small nap two hours before needing to meet with the gypsies and listen to what my body needed. I checked in with my heart and when I I visioned myself in the sacred valley I saw myself dancing in a field of green, twirling around and laughing. I knew I had to go with the gypsies and into the unknown, but I proceeded wi caution and back up plans. Before leaving I stopped into have the best Menu I have had yet; potatoe salad, cow intestine soup, and cordon blue with Chicha morena to wash it all down!
On arrival to the park I didn’t see anyone, though I was very prompt, also, there was a chance that I would be stood up. The usual suspects made their way over to my bench. First the man selling paintings, second, the man that owned a hostel and wanted me to wait there, third, was yet another Mary selling key chains. Mary was the most memorable and I was feeling very open today, mostly because I was very affected by the words of my guitarist friend Noel the day before. He had told me that “the dog starving on the street has an equal existence as I.” Mary, however was very pushy and wanted me to give her my watch as a gift for her daughter, when I did not give in she asked for Chapstick, when I did not give in, she asked for lotion. I was very turned off by her begging, and in the end traded a head band for a key chain and a small change purse. All Mary’s stories whee sad, her husband letter her with three children (sadly not the first time I have heard this story), her and her daughters sell trinkets for a living, the local priest just died, and as the universe will have it, a funeral procession of a young man pervaded down the street. Upon looking back at the procession I was enthralded to see the Argentinians. I bayed my good byes to Mary and went to strait my adventure.
For the next two hours we collected other likened individuals. By the time we collected everyone, 15 in total, got to the bus, made it to the small community and ate something from the local chicken fryer. It was 9pm. The community is a bit different than what we where expecting. The house belonged to a very modest family of four and was more of a quiet retreat and hotel. Needless to say the group of us set into motion a bit of a show to the house. Some of the group didn’t have tents, including me but I had my hammock, and they agreed to split the cost of beds by sharing them. To me this was just asking for sex parties as this extreemly friendly group of South Americans pushed the norms on personal boundaries. I set up camp while the group headed to smoke in the back. I was more interested in watching the lightning strike over the mountains from the comfort of my sleeping bag. Around four in the morning I awoke to mist hitting my face, mist soon turned to rain and I had to get up and knock on a neighboring tent to let me in. They gladly accepted another body to snuggle with…
In the morning I met Marta. Ah Marta. We immediately hit it off as she has been working on starting some sort of outdoor education program at the school she works at outside Lima. I was supposed to work four hours in exchange for minimal camping pay but I headed out to adventure with Marta instead. Presumably I would return by the afternoon to do the work but that didn’t happen.
Marta taught me so much during my stay in the sacred valley, she was my best friend and my mentor. She taught me how to ask. How to question everything and question everyone; not in a suspicious manor but rather to understand the workings of where you are at. Often times people will just agree with you or tell you an answer just because they don’t want to let you know they they don’t know. Marta carried stacks of paper stapled together everywhere she went to document new words, places, and events. Events like the Fiesta de Los Niños that took place in a high Sierra pueblo we just happened to be hiking in that day. We watched a full parade and dance ceremony! The colors and extravagance of the experience was unforgettable. She believes there are other forms of medicine other than western, so we went to go see an acupuncturist together. We cooked together, we shared together, and most of all we laughed a lot. My time with Marta was what made my experience in the Sacred Valley.
The other part of my time at the hostel with the gypsies was a bit more difficult, none the less eye opening though. The gypsies ranged in age from 18-23. The younger ones where fresh out of school and still thirsting for independence as well as experience not being under mom and dad’s roof; their sexual drives where cruising in high gear. Along with being over stimulated with young love I had an extremely hard time understanding their slang, youngsters these days. I had slowly become that awkward foreign girl in the corner just listening and every once in a while stuttering in. I hit my first wall all trip. I was home sick in one of the most beautiful places in the world. All I wanted was someone to share a conversation with. When I finally decided I was going to break free I was crushed to learn I wanted to leave started to he first day of a two day strike against gas prices, so public transit/ transit of any kind was a no go. Phooy. I could only wait one day and rounded up two of the gypsies who needed to get out as well and we walked the two miles to the nearest city that was Rumored to have combis running.
We caught one which dropped us about two miles outside of the city on a hill because we couldn’t risk going into Cusco during a strike. It felt god to be heading back out on my own again and to be in a place where I could understand he Spanish and speak it slowly back. I was on my way to Puno and Lake Titikaka.
The Limber Lotus 