Every day Peru teaches me something. For the most part it is a mixture of gratitutude and humility. Gratitude for the enormous expanse of my blessings. Humillity in terms of the stark reality of abject poverty that forms part of everyday life here.
We have it good in South Africa, we really do. Don´t let people try to convince you otherwise. We have cosy homes, where everything functions. We have food on the table and a warm bed to sleep in. We are loved by family and friends. We are abundantly blessed.
Towards the end of last year I went through a severe sorry-for-myself period. Feeling that life was unfair, that I had been dealt a raw deal at work. I was so caught up in my fantastical web of misery that I ceased to exist.
I have learnt (through the error of my ways), that we never have to feel that there is no way out. When one door closes a passage of a thousand windows open. I need to tatoo that on my forehead. It is too easy to forget when that one door slams shut.
Just a note on my posts. I have not managed to write about my last weekend, because the week was gobbled up skyping in the afternoons and organising my tour to the Amazon. A dream come true. For 12 glorious days I will be soaking up the best of Iquitos and the surrounds, at a retreat known as the Hummingbird Centre. During this time I will have no access to any electronic devices or electricity. It will be me, myself and I facing herself.
My retreat is a bit ´out there´ and on the spiritual side. Perhaps best to leave the explanation at that. Without getting into too much detail, the retreat where I will be staying specialises in Ayahausca ceremonies, which are conscious altering experiences. I don´t know how to describe it, but you basically come face-to-face with your ego, your fears, and anything in your life you may have suppressed. It is also a visionary experience, one whereby you gain insight into your life and yourself.
You come back a changed person. I have heard and read enough testimonies to nullify any lingering doubt I may have had. One of my Australian friends at the Spanish School, Nick, told me about this centre and about the Ayahausca ceremonies. I have wanted to participate in one, but was hesitant as one really needs to find the RIGHT place. The Amazon seemed like the perfect setting. I will have the honour of working with some of the best shamans in the area. The experience will not be entirely euphoric (to say the least). However it is my calling and regret will stay with me for the rest of my days if I don´t do this.
When I look back, I thought I deserved a medal for folding away all my security blankets back home. But nothing has prepared me for this life altering experience I´m about to embark on. It may sound melodramtic. It is not. There are certain things we just can´t explain in the physical world. The ayahausca experience is one of them. I need clarity in my life, about what was and well, about myself. I believe this experience will turn all those questions into statements, so that I may pursue a life of purpose and meaning.
Back home I felt like I was chasing my tail, achieving, but not the type of achievement that rings true with meaning. I hope to find it here, but I already know that just by being true to yourself, a plethora of experiences open up which bring you closer to where you need to be.
Weekend in Ollayantambo
But enough with the philosophical musings. There was a weekend past that was incredible. With three German friends we boarded the local dodgy-end of town bus and headed down to Moraz, which was the beginning of our adventure. After a bus journey spent standing the majority of the way, inbetween local Peruvian villagers, of all shapes and sizes, we arrived in one piece.
Once in Moraz, Esther (who speaks fluent Spanish) managed to organise a taxi to our two touristy stops for the day. The first being Moray, which consists of circular rings, each seperated by 5 degrees. The Incas built the Moray about 500 years ago, to experiment with growing crops at different microclimatic levels. To be honest, I did not understand the ecological geometrics behind it all, but it was a complicated and highly intelligent system that farmers today would struggle to implement.
After that walk, we headed off with the taxi to the Salinas, which are an impressive mass of salt flats, lined up for kilometers like a massacre of fallen dominos. The salt flats were created as a result of the salt found in the mountains, which were (as my friend Maja explained), created millenia ago, by ocean water that had flowed at that level.
We walked down the Salinas until we found a bridge and then a road. It started pelting down as we were heading down. Clever me had nada raincoat or cap and was saved from influenza by the generosity of my friends who loaned me all they had spare to save me from getting drenced. Once we hit the road we successfully flagged down a van that looked like it could (potentially) double up as a taxi and headed to Ollayantambo.
This little village looks like it jumped out of J.R. Tolkien´s Lord of the Rings. Ollayantambo lies in the centre of GIGANTIC mountains, which tower up into the heavens. I have never seen anything quite so spectacular.
We found a quaint little hostel and I had the first warm night´s sleep since my arrival in Peru. The next morning we woke up at the crack and took another dodgy taxi and then bus to the village of Pisac. Pisac is another tourist mecca, renowned for it´s incredible market. Here you will find garments, alpaca blankets, leather handbags, scarves, sockes and ponchos of every discribable colour. You will also find really good choclo, which is steamed corn served with feta-like cheese and a herby green sauce.
After a quick walk around the market, we headed up to the ruins in the mountain behind Pisac which Lonely Planet refers to as ´training for Machu Picchu´. That is a gross understatement. For two solid hours we climbed a 90 degrees skyward, panting for oxygen along the way. The effort was well worthwhile, having an INCREDIBLE view of Pisac and the other mountains as we crescended our way up.
Along the walk there were Inca ruins, jutting out of the unforgiving mountain. Carrying my water bottle and tiny backpack seemed like torture up that steep incline, so how exactly did the Incas manage to create temples and outposts all the way up?
We were blessed with good weather for most of the journey. Just as we rounded the last bend and ruin, the heavens opened up again. We got to the end of the hike, drenced but happy. We flagged down a taxi and made our way back to the market, where we sat down with the local villagers to a wholesome meal of lentils, veg, rice and broiled chicken. It was warm and filled all the right holes. We all suffered from troublesome tummies for 48hrs after that, but the experience was well worth it.
Maya, Ester, Christina and I felt it was an incredible weekend. Totally unplanned, winging it all the way, and somehow everything just worked out. I know I have a guardian angel that helped us to flag down the right taxi, find a great hostel and kept the rain at bay for the majority of our hike.
It is the same guardian angel that saved me from having everything stolen when our apartment was broken into last weekend. Both my flatmates were robbed of their cameras, cellphones, ipods, hundreds of soles each (Celene 400Soles, Jonas 800). My room was somehow left intact. Luckily a little voice told me to lock away my passports and credit cards in the bottom of my big hiking bag. The keys I took with me. The robber obviously did not want to draw attention to himself by making his way out with a huge padlocked hiking bag.
So I continue to keep my faith in my Guardian and Maker who is continuing to bless and look after me every step of the way. This weekend will be spent packing up my life here in Cusco (for the time being) and getting ready for my Amazonian adventure which kicks off on Wednesday night. After a 21hr bus journey to Lima, I fly out to Iquitos early Friday morning. Just hoping the past three weeks of Spanish pays off, so that I end up on the right side of town when I have to flag down a taxi to the hostel in Miraflores.
But as mentioned, I feel that I am divinely guided and protected and have faith that this journey continues in much the same vein.
From an ever colder Cusco,
xxx
No comments:
Post a Comment