Still Crazy After All These Years

Things are still going well for us here in Swaziland. We continue to be blessed with interesting opportunities to learn about the rich Swazi culture and the workings of our host community. But with the stripThings are still going well for us here in Swaziland. We continue to be blessed with interesting opportunities to learn about the rich Swazi culture and the workings of our host community. But with the stripping away of the familiar and the loss of our customary escape routes, we are mostly learning about ourselves. We are also being gifted with a different perspective on the United States. For one thing, we more frequently feel a sense of pride in America and feel fortunate to be under its care and protection as Peace Corps volunteers. It is obvious from our interactions that the assumptions many Swazis have about Americans are very positive. We are beginning to realize that we have taken much for granted. At the same time, our perspective on what makes for a comfortable and productive lifestyle is changing. We are becoming more laid-back, losing some of our intensity and harder edges. Our priorities are shifting toward having fewer gadgets, more quiet time and freedom from overly demanding schedules. It will be interesting to see where we land once our obligations to the Peace Corps are satisfied.

Our current life and work situation provides us with a great deal of unstructured time and opportunities for meditation and quiet introspection. We are making an honest effort to make good use of this opportunity. I am just finishing “Man and His Symbols,” an edited book focusing on Carl Jung’s later work, particularly with dreams. The book supports explorations into my inner spaces, most especially those dark and conflicted unconscious places that are in such dire need of light. Without light, the energy of these places must find expression in indirect and often harmful ways. Without light, aspects such as our inherent creativity and imagination are lost to our conscious lives. By not attending to these subtle aspects of our being, we risk becoming caught in a double bind, denied the growth potential of the positive while being saddled with the burdens created by the negative. Seems worthwhile to dig a bit deeper to see what’s hidden in the psyche and to cultivate a more intentional relationship with the unconscious. In what I suspect is a common aspect of this later phase of life, a familiar urgency is presenting itself with renewed vigor. The essential questions that could be ignored in the rush of early and midlife can no longer be avoided. What is life all about? Given what I can discern about the world, what is a reasonable way to live in it? What if anything, am I to do about the suffering and confusion I see around me? These are old questions that have been coming up for me for years. Others are presenting themselves from a new angle as I go through my days here in rural Africa. Whose children are these that need support in one form or another? Are they not mine? Just what is “disposable income?” Where are the boundaries? How far can these artificial barriers be extended before something precious is lost? What is being lost because of them? Attempts at understanding or “knowing” from an intellectual perspective as well as efforts to find acceptable rationalizations are revealing themselves as fruitless investments of precious time and energy. It is clear that I need of a different approach.

I am experiencing a deeper appreciation for some my old familiar insights. For example, it has become more obvious that my experience of the outside world is moderated by the status of my inner world. My experience of reality is colored by past conditioning and related expectations. Even something as volatile as mood can influence, to a disturbing degree, my experience of the world and limit my capacity to accurately interpret any given situation. A true perspective requires a clear and balanced mind to accurately reflect the outer to the inner. It follows then that the effectiveness of attempts at intervening in the outside world would be limited by the degree to which the mirror of reflection, the mind, has been freed of its distortions. Otherwise, efforts “to be helpful” for instance, will be contaminated by unconscious drives to heal damaged and fractured aspects of the psyche. Any offering of help would be self-serving and likely misdirected if not outright harmful, without this healing. As this integration process directly challenges the illusions of security so cherished by the ego, it is often avoided. Frequently, the ego attempts to bypass this challenging inner work by focusing on manipulation of the outer world and chasing hits of excitement. Freedom from these powerful unconscious influences allows a type of energy to arise that can be truly helpful to another. I feel blessed to have experienced this energy in a variety of situations and have become convinced that simply being in its presence is profoundly healing. When offered by a clear channel that is, someone with the freedom to truly act selflessly, an experience of connectedness to the Whole fills the mind and body and any sense of urgency falls away. There is nothing to struggle against, nothing to be done. There is only the profound stillness and for a time, the voice of the higher Self can be heard. Such sweet moments – these gifts of Grace. Yet so quickly lost by the grasping mind. It’s the very fear that the experience will end that ends it. If I could only live as if I believe what I Know. Or had a level of Faith consistent with my history of “being supported by unseen hands.” Maybe I can learn to relax the mind and not to grasp. Rather, surrender fully to the energy and the guidance if offers. Maybe I need a few more sits

 I find it incredible that I can have these profound experiences and still fall back into the small habits of mind that are so clearly irrational and fear-based. Sometimes I’ll catch myself stressing out over finding my life’s work and a quiet voice reminds me that my true work is to free myself of attachments and identifications so that this energy of Love can naturally manifest through me. And then, I remember that there’s really nothing to do except to surrender to life’s unfolding. I just have to keep myself out of the way.

On a lighter note, here are some recent pictures Jordan and I hope you will enjoy. The first video begins with Jordan and me hiking to the top of the small mountain that rises just behind our home. You’ll see a variety of flowers and some of the views of the larger area including the nearby paper mill. In some of the greener places where the granite rocks were large, we felt we could have been back in the Carolinas. Most of the area was quite dry and the vegetation was mostly brown at the time these photos were taken. We have begun to get some light rains and the countryside is growing greener as you may notice in some of the later photos in this first video. Following the photos from our hike, you’ll see shots taken at a traditional ceremony. It was the installation of a new chief in a neighboring chiefdom. Several hundred attended, including heads of state and a senior prince. You will get a glimpse of the dancing and singing that was part of the ceremony in the second video. The festivities continued through the following day interspersed with rest periods and times of feasting. We were told that 12 cows were slaughtered to provide the beef and there was chicken, fish and a good variety of vegetables as well. Lots of food! We are eating quite well here by the way, but haven’t taken to eating beef again and don’t expect that we will. But chicken and fish have taken on a bigger role for us since leaving the states and the many protein options we had there. While we still depend heavily on veggies, we are finding that following a strict vegetarian diet just isn’t working for us at this time. It will be interesting to see if there are any significant changes in our lipid profiles at the end of these two years. Karma, you know. We are hoping that with so much walking, our bodies will be able to process the extra fat and other stuff that is coming our way. We’ll see. 

done

A neighbor commented following the ceremony that, “We were doing what we are. It’s our nature. We are happy when we are dancing and singing at our traditional ceremonies.” And indeed it was an excellent example of a community coming together with a place and a role for everyone. The men and women in their traditional dress, singing and dancing like the ancestors before them at similar gatherings. The children of various age groups taking part as well, some with costumes and elaborate dance routines and some simply playing together with toys they had constructed from scrap wire and pieces of wood. Toward the end of the second video you’ll see an older man come out onto the dance “floor” and add his energy to the mix. This is a common occurrence that we’ve seen at other ceremonies as well. It seems that members of the audience are free to join in whenever the spirit moves them. It’s all in good fun.

done

There is still a lot we have to learn about the Swazi culture but already it’s clear that laughing and having a good time with friends and family plays a major role. Our Peace Corps trainers tell us that, “When PC volunteers come back from South America, they are politically aware. When they come back from the Far East they are spiritually aware. When they come back from Africa, they are laughing.” We’ll have to see how this unfolds for us but we’ve seen already that Swaziland is quite a different place and we feel blessed to be here. Thank you for your prayers. Take good care! John

Springtime in Swaziland

August 25, 2009

Dear Friends,

John and I completed Peace Corps pre-service training today. What a relief!

I’m thrilled that PC has accepted us as volunteers and look forward to being an official Peace Corps volunteer. Swearing in will be Thursday, and PC will move us and 31 other volunteers to our respective permanent sites on Friday, Aug. 28. All PCVs in Swaziland are in rural communities (including the 29 PCVs from group 6). Through Friday morning we’ll stay at the cushy conference center where I am now plugged into electricity and Internet services. The crisp linens and glass sink, running water and tile floor all seem a bit foreign.

It was only two months ago that John and I arrived in Swaziland, yet being here feels timeless. Maybe I’m fooling myself, but it seems the transition to our new culture has gone extremely well. We have lots of things in our favor, particularly the support of PC. PC provides training and resources, identifies communities and counterparts (individuals who introduce us to and educate us about our community), arranges homestays and provides us with a stipend that easily meets our basic needs. Also, the majority of Swazis speak some English, many fluently. So we definitely have good support and good things going for us.

The first three months at site are devoted to integration. PC asks that we get to know our community thoroughly before becoming involved in or developing projects. I’m pleased with this thorough approach, which is very much in-line with social work principles and approaches I learned at USF. John and I are excited to get started on our community assessment, a tool that will inform our work the next two years. It was also cool to learn that while many NGOs are in Swaziland, PC is unique in having its volunteers live in the rural communities where volunteers serve. Our blog must sometimes sound like a plug for Peace Corps, but John and I experienced the contrast between being in Peru and Ecuador on our own, where we tried to establish ourselves in meaning volunteer work, and in Africa where we have had PC support, a marked contrast in experiences.

We do know our permanent site. Two weeks ago trainees met counterparts and spent about four days at site. John and I were warmly welcomed. The site and homestay family feels like a good fit. We’ll live in a new house about 20 yards from our host family. Babe ba-bay) and Make (Ma-gay), meaning the mother and father, built the home for Babe’s mother, who lives in her own home on the extended family’s homestead about 50 yards away. Gogo (grandmother) ultimately decided she couldn’t leave the home where she married and raised her children, and so the house has sat empty. It has electricity, not uncommon in Swaziland, and running water, which is highly uncommon. My take on our new home is that its conveniences will allow us to be more efficient. Time and energy required for carrying water, frequently purchasing food, and linking up with out-of-home electricity sources for charging batteries and computers can be better channeled into community development work. While we’ll still need to heat water, walk to kumbi stations, and layer up in the colder seasons, our time in Swaziland may be less about roughing it and more about contributing our skills and knowledge toward benefiting our new community.

There is so much about Swazi culture I look forward to sharing with you. Already I see that the significance of family, for example, is tremendous. While the HIV pandemic means there are thousands of orphans in the country, there are few orphanages. Almost universally, the extended family, uncles and aunties, takes in children who have lost one or both parents. The government attempts to assist families, but resources are being taxed by the scope of the pandemic.

Also, elders, especially grandmothers and grandfathers, are revered here. On homesteads Gogo’s house is a safe haven. It’s like a free zone other adults do not enter. And I can’t tell you how different it feels being a middle-aged adult in Swaziland. I don’t sense the disregard for older adults or the strong focus on youth that I sensed in the U.S.

Our PC group held an appreciation luncheon for our host training families on Saturday. John complied photos to put together a nice 15-minute slideshow for families and then cut it down to five minutes for the blog.

done

The photo of the mauve and teal outhouse offers a view from our homestead.  Make is later in a blue dress and a white headscarf. The photos of the chicken, and Make and I defeathering it are from my first experience around slaughtering a chicken. The process was a practice of mindfulness that included prayer and an attitude of gratitude and compassion. The folks around the campfire are PC trainees at a nature reserve we visited at mid-service training. You’ll see some wildlife shots from that trip, and another group photo of volunteers and our language and culture trainers at our training facility. The picture of John and I in our traditional Swazi attire and the half dozen shots that follow are from a farewell party Make held for us. We hope you enjoy a few of the faces of Swaziland.

With love and appreciation,

Jordan

Just a Few Minor Adjustments

Dear Friends and Family,

(this was written on 25 July) We trust this note finds you and yours well and peaceful. We’d like to share a few photos of our host family home during our 9 weeks of training and update you on how it’s going for us in Swaziland.

This picture was taken from our front stoop. As you can see, we’re still tied into some good-view karma. It’s not the Andes but it’s not bad.

Jordan dressing her first chicken with Make.

This is our on-the-corner convenience store where we buy brown bread and a few other items to carry us over between weekend trips to the grocery, a 20- to 60-minute kumbi ride away (travel time depends upon the condition of the kumbi, how many stops it makes along the way and how many people have to pile out to let others off… sometimes it’s a complicated process). The store is a converted shipping container. Pretty creative and a cool color, huh?

Things are going well for us. We’re confident that we are indeed just where spirit wants us to be. The Peace Corps is treating us well and we continue to be impressed by the professionalism, personal warmth and openness of the staff and our trainers. We can also see that the honeymoon phase of this experience is drawing to a close. As more of the reality of HIV/AIDS situation in this country reveals itself, some of the personal and spiritual challenges are becoming more obvious. Keeping the heart open to the level of pain, loss and confusion of which we are now being offered only glimpses, will be a significant test of ourselves and our practice.

It’s a perfect situation for growth as we are being invited to the edge of our capacities. We are being asked to remain nonjudgmental and open in the face of cultural practices, attitudes and behaviors that are fueling the HIV pandemic in Swaziland. For example, we struggle to remain curious regarding practices of older men that are infecting youth, remain nonjudgmental in the face of gender inequality that places a disproportionate burden on women and girls. And there seems to be a high level of denial regarding HIV. We are only beginning to scratch the surface of understanding the cultural, social and economic variables that are in play.

This experience has encouraged us to move closer to spirit, a movement that encourages less attachment to our preconceptions and related judgments. We are some time to meditate and are finding our sits helpful as they bring us back to stillness and moments of freedom and peace. With our Make we share nightly prayers before our meal.  We’re finding the Lord’s Prayer and the 23rd Psalm grounding and comforting as they connect with our deep childhood conditioning. This is a strongly Christian country and perhaps it’s the energy of this place that is moving us toward this perspective of Truth. Or perhaps it’s a way we can feel a little closer to our roots and to the friends and family we left behind.

I, John, am looking forward to more exposure to the native Spiritist practices, which involve interacting with disincarnated spirits, primarily one’s ancestors in the African system but they can also include some that are “dark” and/or “evil.” Spiritism is the foundation of the work of John of God whom I experienced in Brazil. In that case, the spirits were all benevolent, doctors and healers that would use John as a vessel so that their knowledge and skill could be used to heal a great variety of aliments. I am learning that it’s not necessarily the case here in Africa that spirits are benevolent. This is both interesting and troubling but it doesn’t lessen my interest in learning more, just may need to be a bit more careful upon whom I place my trust.

These Spiritist beliefs and practices are imbedded in the country’s Christian Church and I am told that they will always be the dominant force among the Swazis. It’s an area I am anxious to explore further both from a personal interest and practice standpoint but also as a promising route of intervention in the AIDS crisis. Perhaps we can work with native healers and pastors to help bring about the behavioral changes that will be needed if this country is to survive. I feel myself being pulled into the culture in this regard and along with Christian prayers, I find that I am naturally returning to the prayers I associate with Shamanism and those rich times in Brazil and more recently in Peru. Whatever the words or images that may be used in this attempt to connect with Spirit, it is clear that the only appropriate attitude in this situation is that of surrender to the Great Mystery and to the guidance of that comes via the still quiet voice within. The conditioned mind with all of its knowledge, experiences and their associated prejudices are a hindrance and must be observed patiently but not allowed to run the show. The Beginner’s Mind will be of greater use in seeing into the workings of this culture and hopefully finding a way to offer something meaningful to the mix.

On a lighter note, at the midpoint of our training PC gave us a break and took us on an overnight excursion to a nearby wildlife park. We felt like we were finally in Africa when we saw the zebras, wildebeest and the gazelles hanging out in the tall grasses with the mountains colored by the sunrise for a background. Here’s a couple of shots from the trip.

(written 7 August) We have had little access to the internet so this posting is from a couple of weeks ago. Tomorrow morning we will leave for a 5-day visit in the community where we’ll spend the next 2 years. The village is called Mhlangeni (um-slha-na-nee) and is about an hour bus ride south of the capital city of Mbabane where the PC office is located and hopefully, we will be posting this blog… gotta wait and see how the technogods are feeling towards us tomorrow. Mhlangeni is in the same general area as the wildlife preserve we visited and near the King’s main compound so we’re expecting it to be an interesting part of the country.

We hope to have some interesting material to write about after we complete our five days of on-the-job training in Mhlangeni. We are traveling with our counterpart, Thabsile, a warmhearted Swazi woman who will be introducing us to the community and helping us get settled into some meaningful work. Our first project following swearing at the end of the month will be a thorough community assessment. We’ll undertake this during our 3-month  integration period that will allow us to get a good feel for the community, its resources and its needs. We expect to find a few niches along the way that will provide a focus for our energy and skills.

We’re feeling ready to be set free from our strict training schedule and look forward integrating into our new community, like Peace Corps volunteers… it feels great!

This photo was taken near a little block church that our Make attends… a perspective of the situation here in Swaziland.

With love and appreciation,

John (aka mDumduzi, “mm dah doo ze”) and
Jordan (aka Nonhlanhla, “non slan sla”)

Not in Kanas Anymore!

Dear Friends,

We trust this note finds you well and peaceful.

We’re posting this entry along with another one that we wrote upon our arrival to Swaziland and were unable to post. The small town of Pigg’s Peak is about a 45-minute khumbi (10 passenger van that holds 15 or 20) ride from our training community. Our group of 33 Peace Corps trainees have twice descended on the town, which has one internet café with two painfully slow computers. We opted to buy some needed supplies in lieu of waiting for internet access, holding out for a trip to the city of Mbanane, some two hours away. If you’re reading this, it means we were successful in finding a link-up.

We’re into our third week of training and remain impressed by and appreciative of the level of training, support and supplies the PC program provides. Truly incredible, the amount of work and coordination of so many details that is being done on trainees behalf. We are in good hands.

On July 1 we moved from the training site in eNgonini to our nearby training community. We left behind the comfort of hot showers and three prepared meals a day to take another step toward experiencing what it will likely be like once we arrive at our permanent posts. It is no longer a joke. We are now heating water and bathing from a bucket.

Swasi families in rural areas live on homesteads with extended family members either on the same property or nearby. Volunteers are assigned to a homestead and have either a separate home or live in the family home with a separate entry. A young widow has welcomed us onto her property and into her heart. She has provided us with a nice home, a one-room house about 20’ by 20’ a few yards from her only slightly larger home. We’ve heard the Swazis are proud of their hospitality and warmth toward strangers, and we’ve felt blessed to experience it every day from our Make and the people with whom we cross paths. We also feel blessed to be here in Africa and to be experiencing such a different culture. We clearly are not in Kansas anymore!

We were actually “adopted” by this family and were given family names (before we met) that we now use in the community. John is mDumduzi (um-da-duuze) meaning “comfort.” Jordan is Nonlhanlha (noan-slan-sla) meaning “fortunate.” Maybe you can see why we’re struggling to learn siSwati. Our surname is that of the late husband and is tied to the homestead itself. The name is recognized by those in the community and relays to them where and with whom we are living. Our new names connect us to an amazing web of relations extending many generations back. Make’s relatives on both sides are introduced to us as our relatives, e.g., “This is your cousin, Themba.”

For me, Jordan, I’m surprised as I was in Peru by the level of comfort I feel in this place despite the limited time we have had to expose ourselves to different facets of the community. PC training is intense just as we were warned. Training begins at 8 a.m. and wraps up anywhere from 4 to 6 p.m. But even with little time for walking and khumbi rides, we have had wonderful encounters with the Swazis and our new environment – dirt roads, riding on the left side of the road, school children in uniforms walking from school, men and women at church. We’re working hard in our language classes where we have two to four hours of training six days a week, four students to one trainer. Cross-cultural and skills training are held in larger groups. It seems every volunteer has at least one person at the homestead who is comfortable speaking English so our cultural adjustment is buffered by an ability to communicate. Our Make (“ma gay” meaning mother) is quite comfortable with English and her warmth and openness belies her 37 years. Her stillness, her childlike smile, her warm and open expression repeatedly tell me to pause and move at a more natural pace. No rush here.

For me, John, I’m enjoying being in one of few households in the area without electricity. Jordan and I are enjoying the quiet. The lack of electricity and refrigeration are minor challenges. The lack of running water is an inconvenience, but one we’re adjusting to. We have two sources of water, one for drinking (following boiling for 10 minutes and filtering) and one for bathing and washing clothes. We first carried our drinking water 150 yards from a community tap but lately the tap has been dry and a neighbor of Make’s has brought us water from a nearby town.

We seem to be adjusting well to our new life and find comfort in the simplicity of our home and habits. We have only been able to sit for meditation a few times since our arrival but the focus on observing process is still strong with both of us and we feel our practices are growing stronger despite limited time for formal sitting. We expect to have more time once we’re at our permanent post. We are looking forward to learning more siSwati and as just about everyone we meet is happy to be our teacher, we are confident we’ll pick it up in the coming months. As with our travels in Peru and Ecuador, we find our best times are with the community members, struggling to communicate, sharing smiles and good-natured laughter, the universal language. And there are the kids. Their smiles and excitement at being engaged by these white strangers offers us encouragement that we will be supported along our path through this poor and troubled nation.

The following note was written upon our arrival but never sent.

We wanted to drop a quick note to let you know we arrived in Swaziland with no glitches, well feed by the airlines, our luggage intact and a bit tired. We had been told that there was a good chance that our luggage would be delayed so we felt blessed to have missed that little adventure. The flight was 17 hours not counting the one-hour stop in Dakar, Senegal. Our group spent the night at a nice hotel in Johannesburg where we enjoyed Japanese food and later indulged in probably what was our last hot soaking bath for some time.  On Wednesday our group took a cushy bus ride to our five-hour destination to Ngonini in northern Swaziland where we’re now receiving initial training, medical checks, etc. We’ll be in training at this center, a rented Lutheran school that trains farmers, through Wednesday morning. At that time we’ll head off in groups of five or six to communities throughout this area to continue training while we live in a host family compound. At the end of the nine-week “pre-service training” PC will assign us to community and family compound where we’ll serve our next two years.

We’re impressed and delighted with the level of professionalism, organization, warmth and accessibility of the PC staff, most of whom are Swazis. The learning materials are excellent and we are excited to have this new course of study. We were also relieved to find the medical officer, a physician’s assistant, knowledgeable and attentive, especially in regard to our concerns around malaria prevention meds.

We’re also impressed with the composition of fellow volunteers. Largely they are bright young people recently out of college, with five others being about our age. There are seven married couples, including ourselves. The 33 volunteers come from all over the US.

The weather is interesting. Afternoons are sunny and clear in the 70s. When the sun sets, temps plummet into the 30s. We’re enjoying new nature sounds, beautiful birdcalls we’ve not heard before, new vegetation, mountains and valleys and a 4 a.m. rooster call that has been a constant during our travels outside the U.S.

Tomorrow’s training agenda includes a short bus trip to the small town of Pigg’s Peak to pick up incidentals and begin learning our way around Swazi markets and shops. We hope to have Internet access and be able to let you know that we’re safe and sound in Swaziland. We don’t know when we’ll have Internet access again and may not have the bandwidth to use Skype until we go to the Peace Corps headquarters in Mbabane at the end of our nine-week training. There is a six-hour time difference so once we have reliable Internet we will still have to figure out a good time to chat.

We haven’t had many opportunities to take many photos, but hope to have some to post in the coming months.

We send you our best and appreciate any prayers or good wishes sent our way.

With love and appreciation,
Jordan and John

Swaziland or Bust!

Our Dear Friends,

We are just back from a 10-day meditation retreat where Jordan sat and John served as the kitchen manager, the only non-native Spanish speaker in a group of five (with some extra folks helping out from time to time). There were 85 folks attending, a mix of Peruvians and young people from all over the globe. The retreat was a rich experience for both of us, clearly a time of deepening our meditation practices and gaining confidence in our capacity to live and work in a different culture.

Before the retreat it felt like our time in South America was winding down. We booked tickets and will return to Tampa tomorrow, April 28. We plan to reconnect with many of our friends and family members. We’ll also head off to our favorite haunt near Asheville for backpacking in the Smokey Mountains. John has also applied to sit a10-day retreat in Dallas at the end of the month. It’s such a powerful practice that seems wise to clear the mind a bit before moving into this transition.

Today, over a year after beginning the application process, we formally accepted an invitation from the Peace Corps to serve in Swaziland. It’s a landlocked country, about the size of New Jersey in the southeastern corner of Africa. The country has the worse incidence of HIV in the world. We will both be working with AIDS education and awareness in a variety of ways that we expect to learn more about as the staging process starts, leading up to our departure in late June.

From our research so far, we have learned that Swaziland is a diverse country. There are modern cities and subsistence farmers living in small villages. The several distinct ecological niches and climates range from hot and dry to cool and wet. Here are a couple of quotes and two short videos that we pulled from the internet that may help you appreciate why we are excited about this assignment.

From the Lonely Planet guidebook: “Swaziland might be among the smallest countries on the continent and one of Africa’s remaining monarchies, but there’s more than novelty value on offer here. You can almost feel South Africa’s undercurrents of tension fade away when you cross the border into friendly, easy-going little Swaziland, making it a relaxing stopover on the trip between Mozambique and South Africa. And it’s surprising how much there is to do here – the royal ceremonies, excellent wildlife reserves and superb scenery should be more than enough reason to come.”

From the Peace Corps website: “The greatest single problem confronting the people of Swaziland is the HIV/AIDS pandemic. As of 2005, the infection rate of adults (ages 15 to 49) was 42.6 percent, giving Swaziland the highest HIV rate in the world. In addition, approximately 70,000 children have been orphaned as a result of AIDS.

“The Peace Corps assists the government of the Kingdom of Swaziland in implementing its national strategy on HIV/AIDS risk reduction and impact mitigation. This includes training teachers and community members in life skills aimed at HIV/AIDS prevention, initiating and promoting programs in HIV/AIDS awareness, identifying partnerships and resource alliances to fight the epidemic, strengthening existing HIV/AIDS intervention strategies and activities, mobilizing communities to respond to the effects of HIV/AIDS, and working with in-school and out-of-school youth.”

Here’s a rather corny tourism YouTube video about Swaziland that you may enjoy. It shows some of the landscape, wildlife, people and traditions.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zi7YSWP-blo

This one about community response to the country’s 70,000 orphans provides a more sobering perspective.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LNIQ_nItbKg

Our response to the Peace Corps invitation was revealing. Jordan was excited to be heading out into the world with her social work training and engaging with others for such a worthwhile purpose. On the other hand, John is looking forward to exploring the exotic environment and engaging in cultural exchanges with others. He was up late last night researching the landscape and wildlife of Swaziland and figuring out which Lonely Planet guidebooks to order. We’re at different phases in our lives and it’s such a gift that this assignment will accommodate both.

We thank you for your prayers and good wishes during our time abroad. We’ve certainly felt supported many times by invisible hands.

Know that we keep you in our prayers.

With love and appreciation,

John and Jordan

Road Trip! Quito to Lima

After spending an amazing month in the Galapagos Islands, what does one do next? How ‘bout getting into a bus and heading for Lima, only 825 miles from Quito, Ecuador. It’s only a 24-hour bus ride if you take the straight, smooth coastal route and two hours away by plane (Jordan picked this option). But God only knows how far it is if you choose to ride the ridge of the 20,000 foot Andes in the local buses that stop in every village and for anyone who holds out their hand along the way . . . . Now, God and I both know, it’s a haul! But it’s one that’s filled with some really neat places, interesting foods and warm, welcoming people.

But before I got into my solo bus trip, Jordan and I had a week in Quito. We attended an international orchid show and engaging dance performances, and visited the old town with its colonial charm and massive cathedrals. Then we took a four-day/400-mile car tour of the surrounding area. During the four days, we took some hikes into some beautiful places, enjoyed dishes we hadn’t yet encountered and generally had a good time with our “guide-in-training.” We didn’t know he was not experienced going in, and we’d had such good luck in the past… you learn stuff all the time when you hang out on a different continent. Some cues for those who might engage a guide in the future: Does the guide have a map? Does he have suitable shoes for trekking? Does he ask any passing 10-year-old for directions and then take off helter-skelter in an attempt to make two wrongs a right? . . . . To his credit, we always ended up where we were headed and had some adventures along the way.

By the way, this form of direction seeking, giving and following is common in the Latin American countries that we have visited. Almost without fail, if you ask someone, particularly a man but it holds true for most women and children too, for directions, you will get directions. There must be some strong penalties for not knowing where something is because regardless of whether or not they know, they will speak with the same confident air used in directing you to their mother’s home. It makes for some interesting excursions, especially when you are in the less-developed areas that lack road signs and often anything that would even pass for a road in the States.

We went from the grassy highlands, down through the cloud forest and into the edge of the jungle in the town of Tena. A woman who managed the camp where we had volunteered on the Galapagos lived there so we visited her. I explored the option of staying there for a while and getting into the local practices and maybe spending some time in the nearby jungle with a shaman. The town was dirty and loud, and the overall energy was not attractive. I decided to pass on the invitation.

One of my highlights of the four-day tour was climbing a 75-foot observation tower in the jungle reserve of Jatun Sacha, the same foundation we volunteered with in Galapagos. It was a rush to get back to the old phone company days with the body belt cinched around my waist and the joy of climbing high into the heavens. The view from the top was great, treetops as far as the eye could see, many different birdcalls and a grand river flowing through it all. The experience brought my little boy back to life!

We visited some of the area’s main tourist spots like Banos where we soaked up some mineral water with the masses and checked out the local church (see the photo of the candle offerings at night). On the last night of our tour, we found ourselves in Papallacta, a popular hot springs town. We stayed in a neat little hostel that was being run by a young boy while his mother was away for a few days. It’s amazing how the kids down here take on so much responsibility at such an early age. It was a high point of the trip just watching this boy work. We took a short hike the next morning with an experienced guide (the man sitting on the ground with the thick black hair) who named the plants and explained how they were related, related which were invasive and which were parasitic and other interesting stuff. It was a relief having a guide who knew what his job was and did it well. Jordan found a four-leaf clover for him and he seemed to genuinely appreciate it, relating it to the Apos (gods) of the mountains and laughing with us. This connection with a local person left us longing for our first days in Taray, sharing food and laughs with the village children.

We got back to Quito with just enough time to get our gear sorted and packed for Jordan’s early morning plane flight. She was taking the bulk of our gear with her to Lima and then to a small Eco-village that we planned to volunteer in for a month. As Carolyn Myss likes to say, “If you want to give God a good laugh, tell her your plans!” More on that later . . . now the bus trip.

After a tearful parting at the airport (perhaps a product of living together 24/7 for the past 6 months in a strange land?), I made my way to the local bus terminal and laid down my $8 for the first eight-hour leg of my journey that would land me in Urabamba. In the Loney Planet guide book, I had found a place to stay, “The Oasis.” It was a charming little place run by a couple who did most of the work themselves. For $10US a night (Ecuador uses the dollar, too), I had a clean room, firm double bed and private bath and use of the common kitchen. I then connected with Galo who ran a family bike tour business and arranged an all-day bike trip the next day that included myself and a young couple from Alaska who were staying at The Oasis too. We just happened to meet at Galo’s office which was upstairs in an aging building that housed the large cloth store his father had opened some 30 years earlier. It was like something from a Dicken’s novel, so much color, charm and personality. Galo was an exceptional guide. He knew and shared the history of the area and took care of us like we were his own. We had a marvelous time, beginning with a short hike up the base of a snow-covered mountain that is popular with the serious climbers and has two base camp buildings that we enjoyed checking out. Then we were on our off-road bikes headed down some steep trails and gravel roads. We passed some beautiful farmlands, had some good views of the mountains and met a couple of boys who proved that the art of go-cart making was not limited to the States. These kids even made the wheels from wood. Aside from the wheels, their cart looked like the ones I was building at their age. I swapped them a couple of healthy snacks for their photos.

When the bike trip ended, it was time for a meal at the local pizza place and a good nights rest. The next morning I was back at the bus terminal. This time it was 6 bucks for a 6-hour ride to Cuenca. While Cuenca is famous for its Panama hats (they are actually made here but Panama made them famous by exporting them), I only got as far as the San Blas neighborhood where I settled into a marginal hostel ($15 a night) and found a great vegetarian restaurant on my way to the laundry. I was so starved for healthy food, I had three meals there, got some sleep and passed on exploring any of the local sights. Then, back on the bus. This one would cost four bucks for the four-hour trip to Loja where I would catch another bus for the one-hour trip to Vilcabamba, a place known for its healing powers and healthy mineral waters. I spent two days there resting and soaking up some of the good vibes of the area in a neat little hostel/spa-wanta-be. The $24 a night included soaks in the hot tubs, two good meals a day and all the internet I could use. I can already tell it’s gonna be tough paying US prices again for a hotel that looks like every other place on the strip.

The next leg will carry me across the border, through immigration and into the deserts of Northern Peru. Regretfully, I had to leave my little spa a day early because the rains that come at night block the road and it’s not opened in time for my planned morning ride back to the Loja terminal. The hostel in Loja was unremarkable beyond being an aging memory of what it used to be. The elderly couple manning the front desk showed signs of fatigue that matched the sagging bed and stained carpets. The contrast with my last night in the spa was rather harsh. But, I got some sleep and in the morning, was headed for Piura, Peru. The guidebook was pretty much right on about Piura. It’s not a place you want to do much more than to plan your next destination. The change from the lush deep green mountains of Ecuador to the desert of Peru was stark to say the least. No only was the land poor but the people trying to survive on it and the towns they created all followed suite. It was sad to be among the dirt and the trash that was so liberally thrown about just yards from front doors, or in many cases, front flaps of the small dingy shacks packed together across lifeless landscapes broken only by the occasional dirt path and decorated by small restaurants and corner bars. I felt a little homesick for the green vital hills of Ecuador.

Another eight hours (30 soles/$10) in a hot bus and I was in Trujillo, a town I found quite charming. It was clean and there were street musicians, student actor troops and healthy vegetarian food. The hostel was another Lonely Planet pick and a good thing too because there was no sign beyond the street address on a small faded placard and nothing to suggest that a hostel was hidden behind the small doorway. Esteban, the manager and owner, was delightful and engaging, much more so than the small, windowless room he offered me for 40 soles/$13 a night. I enjoyed my two days in Trujillo, and the calm, welcoming energy of this city revitalized me for the last leg of my trip. In the morning, I caught a bus bound for Lima (another 35 soles). More dry country with blocks of irrigated farmland and then an area containing hundreds of chicken shacks, more than I ever imaged existed. I guess it takes a lot of chicken and eggs to feed the +/- 10 million folks in and around Lima.

I asked the driver to drop me in the town of Chancay so that I could reunite with Jordan at Eco-Truly Park, the spiritual center where we planned to spend a month, maybe more. When I arrived, I found that Jordan was ready to move on as the food was not healthy nor was the sanitation situation. There were too many flies and too little attention being given to how human and animal waste was handled to be inviting. The poor sanitation and spiritual practices not in line with our own propelled us out of the center and on to Lima for a couple of weeks stay before sitting a Goenka retreat. (Jordan plans to sit, I plan to serve, most likely in the kitchen . . . should be a good way to improve my Spanish while getting in three good sits a day.)

We have had many angels during our travels through Peru and Ecuador. There have been folks who have adopted us at times when we’ve felt overwhelmed by the process of finding a bus in a large terminal or a particular place or person in a tiny village. Many times we have been taken under the wing of a patient taxi driver who would go out of his way to make sure we arrived where we were headed safely. We have found informal Spanish teachers, often sharing a seat with us in a local bus, who have been encouraging of our progress and have raised our spirits after a long day. On this bus trip, a driver in Piura loaned me 50 soles at a bus terminal so that I could buy my ticket for the next day without having to first find a bank. He then patiently carted me to four different hostels before I found one that worked for me. These simple acts have helped us feel welcomed even in some rather unwelcoming towns.

When we arrived in Lima on a bus from the Eco-village, we were adopted in a special way. We were getting into the city proper and I had gone forward to ask the driver to let us know when we are at the stop nearest to Miraflores, the upscale neighborhood we would be staying in for the next couple of weeks. A man who had gotten on the bus only a few stops before overheard me and asked in heavily-accented English where we were going. When I replied “Miraflores,” he asked if I had an address. When I showed him, he said he lived nearby and offered to share a cab with us from the bus terminal to our common destination. He then proceeded to walk us through the bus terminal and haggled with three or four cab drivers before settling on a price. We all three piled in along with our bags of gear. As we drove through the bustling streets, we talked. It turned out he was an anesthesiologist, born in Japan and living in Lima for the past 10 years. He explained that he found the people of Lima warm and gave himself a hug to illustrate his point. I had a minor eye problem and asked him about it. He turned around from the front seat, looked at it and assured me that the medicine I had purchased from a local pharmacy was the right choice and not to worry. We then drove around many streets in search of our hostel. He refused to let us pay any of the cab fare, explaining that on his first trip to Lima, someone had helped him in the same way. As he wrote both his home and his cellphone number on the flap of our guidebook, he explained that he was glad to have the opportunity to repay the favor. A classic example of “pay it forward,” drawing from the movie by that name. We felt safe and welcomed in this city of many millions and encouraged by this angel that we were again being supported by unseen hands.

We are enjoying Lima, getting around nicely on foot in Miraflores and by local bus (1.5 soles/$.50) to the center of town where there are many old churches, the presidential palace and streets full of interesting folks and buildings. We have stumbled upon some neat live music and plan to attend a vegetarian restaurant opening that a couple we met at the Saturday Organic market is opening. This past Sunday, we visited a monastery founded in the 1500s and explored the catacombs beneath it where some 25,000 bodies were entombed over a period of 300 years, lots of bones and energy in that huge cellar. It was Palm Sunday and we caught a procession from another church that marked the beginning of the Easter period. As has happened since the Spanish arrived, groups of men carried the figures of Mother Mary and Jesus through the streets, surrounded by thick smoke from the incense burners and the arrangements of fresh flowers. We went inside the simple old church where a mass was being preceded by quiet organ music. The drums and brass instruments started up in the street and it was yet another perfect opportunity to practice, finding the soft music among the loud… the quiet inner voice among the noise of everyday life.

Well, it’s on to our first international Goenka retreat . . . 10 days to work with the mind. What a gift this practice is!

Stay well, Juan

Here’s a Quicktime video of some of the photos we took along the way.done

Jordan and I hope you enjoy them.

The Galapagos Islands

We’re still working on the text but wanted to get this blog posted while we had somewhat fast internet here in Quito.

We arrived on San Christbol Island on a muggy Sunday afternoon and climbed into a truck taxi for our 45-minute drive to Jatan Sacha, one of several stations in Ecuador devoted to the preservation of endangered species. We came with a commitment to work for a month with the understanding that on weekends we would be free to explore the wonders of the Galapagos Islands. The work proved to be physically demanding. We used machetes for just about everything from clearing trees to weeding the gardens, and worked about 5 ½ hours a day in the heat, high humidity and the bugs for what turned out to be about three to four days a week. (We were lucky to hit a couple holidays during our month stay and usually passed on the Friday nature hikes.) We whacked mora, an invasive blackberry plant, nurtured seedlings, planted endemic trees, helped in the kitchen and roasted organic coffee. But mostly, we enjoyed the islands and its friendly creatures.

First we took a four-day tour of the main islands. On the tour we checked out other islands, Fernandina, Isabela and Santa Cruz. We snorkeled daily as well as took interesting hikes, visited volcanoes and sink holes, giant tortoise breeding grounds and of course, the Charles Darwin Center on Santa Cruz Island. All along the way, we had rich encounters with the wildlife.

The first remarkable animals were the sea lions warming themselves on the beach, sidewalks and boats of our little host village. Then we noticed the bright orange crabs covering the rocks and being bathed by the surf. Then it was the marine iguanas that blended so well with the dark volcanic rocks that we would be startled when their sudden movement blew their cover. There were tiny colorful birds who hopped on our tables of the open air restaurants looking for a quick bite, that never failed to amuse us. The magnificent friggett birds who steal fish from other birds because they lack the necessary oil on their feathers that would allow them to fish for themselves. The males red balloon inflating boldly announcing its availability and drawing attention to its well-appointed nest. And there were other classic Galapagos animals like the boobies, both red and blue, the albatros and the dolphin. There was the rare scarlet-colored flycatcher and a variety of Darwin’s finches, each with its own island home. We were blessed by them all and so many more that we lacked the knowledge to identify or I suspect, to adequately appreciate.

At the water’s edge with fins, snorkel and mask, we held our breath as the sea turtles swam by, the eagle rays drifted below us, the reef sharks calmly drifting around us. Fur seals would come up within inches of our masks and invite us to play with their big brown eyes peering into ours. Satisfied that we intended no harm, we would spin around in the shallow water together in joyful bliss. We were reminded of our many rich encounters with village children and how there didn’t seem to be any barriers between us. Of the many amazing animal encounters, these guys were the best, so easy to personify, so friendly and playful that for a moment, we could forget that we were humans and they were not. We were blessed with another non-dual experience, his one without plant medicine or sitting bench.

We spent an extra 5 days on Santa Cruz so John could scuba dive in the most amazing waters he had ever encountered. Here’s a little about John’s scuba diving experiences:

My first dive in 15 years proved to be the most challenging one ever. The small rock island of Leon Dormido (sleeping lion) just off the shore of San Christobol is notorious for it’s strong and unpredictable currents. There are two gaps in the rock that result in a number of points where the current goes in both directions. Combine this with strong surf, alternating between throwing you up near the surface and driving you into the depths, and you’ve got a pretty tough ride. I didn’t see much wildlife on these two dives. I was too busy fighting back panic and trying to stay alive. It was a powerful time for practice and there were several moments that I came close to checking out of the experience and returning to the comforts of the awaiting boat. But, with focused effort, I was able to shift into observer mode, bring my rapid gasping of air to a more slow and steady pace and watch the panic pass. I was glad that I survived this level of diving and felt confident that the next dives would be less demanding and that I might even find time to look around and not simply suck a tank of air in record time.

The remaining eight dives around Santa Cruz Island were simply amazing, and as I relaxed into the comfort of this surreal environment, I felt a rush of aliveness and connectedness that I can only describe as a spiritual awakening, a reminder of the interrelation of all of creation and the beautiful the dance of life, even given the constant presence of death or perhaps because of it.

There were always large groups of colorful fish, some gathered in tight schools. As a predator fish passed through, the school would scatter for an instant and then re-form, seemingly a bit tighter than a moment before. The colors of the fishes and the coral bright and varied were punctuated with the regular passing of sea turtles and rays. Dolphins jumped across the wake of the boat and sea turtles mated on top of the water. Fur seals dived and swam up close to check us out. The encounters were pure joy. Then there were the high points that divers dream about and, those who are blessed by them, talk about to anyone who will listen. One day it’s a group of 25 white-tipped reef sharks, four to six feet long swimming within a few yards of us. Another dive it’s 30 spotted eagle rays calmly drifting around by us in formation. Then the rush of catching the profiles of large hammerhead sharks appearing from the haze for an instant. Once, six or eight came within 20 feet before they caught sight of our bubbles and darted away. The diving was clearly the highlight of my month in Galapagos. I leave with experiences I will treasure and re-play in my mind any time I feel adrift in this big crazy world. I would diving and snorkeling to anyone with the slightest inclination toward exploring the world beneath the surface.

Here’s a QuickTiime video made from some of our photos. The background music is Cesar playing and singing with the rest of our group talking and singing in the background.

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Treks into Colca Canyon and on the Volcano Misti

The soaring condors mark the beginning of our trip into Colca Canyon near the Peruvian city of Arequipa. We have come here from Cusco to study Spanish and live with a host family for two weeks and enjoy a couple of  nature treks in the area. In Andean mythology the condor represents the spirit world, the puma the earth realm and the serpent, the underworld. The condor, a vulture, is thought to lead the soul of the dead to the spirit world and, therefore, is an important part of Andean mythology.

At Cruz del Condor the wind provided a good draft for the large birds even before the morning sun began to fuel the thermals that will carry them effortlessly into the clouds. We were lucky and saw about eight during our brief stop. From here we headed to the pueblo, Cabanaconde, where our 4-day hike began. Our guide is Angel, and small, quiet man with a good, steady hiking pace and a patient nature.

Most of the photos are obvious, but some deserve a brief comment. Plus filling in some of the details gives me an excuse to share some of what we’re experiencing in South America.

The parasitic insects that you see on the cactus are harvested and used in the production of dyes for clothes and pigments for paints. The huts you see are “lodges” were we spent the nights. Rustic to the point of having dirt floors, they were like Hiltons to us because they meant no need to lug tents, food or cooking equipment. The first and last of the four days of hiking ended in a dip in natural hot springs and on our third day, in a cool spring-fed swimming pool. Not bad for “roughing it backpacking.”

Along with some engaging Europeans, John and I were fortunate to hang out with local children who spend their summer break at the lodges with their working parents. The third night, at what’s called “the oasis,” Manual and Maria invited us to soccer, but our playtime quickly turned into pony rides and roughhousing.

I’m still not sure where the energy came from. I guess the joy and friendliness of the children opened our hearts and the energy flowed from there. I let go of concerns about the steep ascent the next morning, an unbroken 3,000-foot climb back to the canyon’s rim. Angel has told us that we would leave at 6 a.m., hike up and catch a bus at the top around 10 to 10:30 a.m. While studying the zigzag trail the day before during part of our descent, I wondered whether I could do the hike in one day, let alone 4 ½ hours. That night I prayed to the good spirits to guide and open me to their guidance and energy. On the morning of the ascent, Angel offered us the only suggestion he would make during the trek. He said it is better to hike slowly with a steady pace rather than to hike for one-hour spurts followed by rest periods. He advised us to keep our bodies warm, not becoming chilled during stops. I’m sure he’d noticed my whizzing from a head cold, but the advice mainly would help in another way.

At 6 a.m., after a light breakfast, we headed off. The slow, steady pace helped focus my attention. If I were going to get on the other side of this hike in four hours, I would need concentration. Slow and steady I was a turtle who rarely paused, steadying my gaze no more than 10 feet ahead. I had no interest in the where I’d been, views of the oasis, or what lay ahead, the next switchback. My attention was on the trail, the hiking poles (my other appendages) and placing one foot in front of another. I saw that the ascent was more about an approach to life and less about Colca Canyon. The hike asked for a concentrated resting in the present moment. Two and a half hours later, with only a few pauses, Angel and I reached the top, with John only a few minutes ahead. I thanked the good spirits for their help, knowing that something beyond my abilities got me up the canyon wall.

After a stop in the hot springs at Chivay we returned to Arequipa for a brief day of rest preparation for a two-day trek to the top of Misti, one of three volcanoes visible from Arequipa. It is an active volcano that tops off at about 18,000 feet. The hike up Misti would prove to be quite challenging as well but in different ways from Colca – rapidly changing weather, rain, snow, wind and biting cold would the tests there.

The climb up Misti began with a rough 45-minute jeep ride to the base of the volcano at about 12,000 feet. Our guide had told us not to pack rain gear; it seldom rains on Misti. The cold is reliable, though, and the tour company provided us with parkas, extra leggings and a tent, as it turned out, one in poor condition.

Just as we got on the trail heading to our base camp at 15,000 feet, a cool, heavy mist moved in. We pitched our tent about two hours later only minutes before the sky opened up to deliver a steady pelting of rain. One of the fly zippers, facing the wind, was broken. I was already chilled and doubted our ability to withstand a cold and wet night. Fortunately, John had brought twine and we used it along with my pocket knife to stitch up the fly. We shared our small damp space with all of our gear, and with boots still laced, crawled into our sleeping bags in an attempt to warm ourselves. Later, when the rain stopped, we crawled out (the other zipper was jammed) to find ourselves above the clouds. The sun was setting first over and then beneath them. The views were a definite reward at the end of a challenging day.

The next morning we left camp at 3 a.m. after a quick breakfast and the gathering of our gear. Well before daybreak we were hiking in snow. At that altitude the air was thin and the hiking a slow, one short step in front of the other process. Six hours later, we reached the volcano’s crater. A dribble of smoke rose from the crater’s center as its only sign of life. More interesting were the carefully placed rocks within the crater that marked where the remains of six child sacrifices that had been discovered. It’s estimated the sacrifices took place about 500 years ago. I couldn’t help but wonder, given the difficulty of our hike with poles, good boots and heavy parkas, what faced these children as they hiked this rugged trail for the honor of  residing with the gods.

It was cold at 18,000 feet and when the wind picked up, the guide told us it was too dangerous to continue up to the remaining 300 feet to the summit. An easy descent though fine sandy scree is thwarted by the cold, which has frozen the black sand rock hard. Instead, we are forced to return to the rock and retrace much of our earlier climb up. About six hours later we reach the waiting jeep. We had hiked with only short breaks and no real food for12 hours. John and I were silent during the ride back to Arequipa. To say I was too exhausted to speak isn’t an exaggeration.

In Arequipa we prepared for our flight back to Cusco, where we will have a couple of days before flying out to Quito, Ecuador, and our month on the Galapagos Islands.

Here’s a 5 minute Quicktime video of some of the photos taken on these treks

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Holidays in Peru

Our holidays were a mix of sadness for missing our friends and family and our customary traditions and joy for being “adopted” by our host family in Cusco. We were treated as family, even given small gifts at the traditional midnight family gathering on Christmas morning. New Year’s Eve was marked with fireworks and the burning of the old and the unwanted (see photo of fire of burning mattress in the street) and the spreading of yellow confetti over everyone and around the house for good luck. We ate turkey for Christmas and a roasted pig on New Year’s Day. We attended several celebrations, including those marking the beginning and the ending of the Holy holidays and one marking the birthday of a town. The costumes were beautiful, the dancing lively, and the fiesta filled with the sounds of music and laughter. The children’s gathering for the small gifts of hot chocolate, a traditional cupcake and a trinket were both heartwarming and heartbreaking. The mixture of unending poverty and joys of family and gift-giving to those less fortunate than ourselves, reminded us of the deeper meanings of the holiday season.

We were blessed with the company of an Australian couple, who shared our host family and Spanish school. It is Travis’s music that accompanies the photos, along with the conversation and laughter of our adopted family. (In the song he mentions Manchi, our host mother.)

Here’s a short Quicktime video made from some of the photos we took during these weeks. The photos at the end were taken in Arequipa in a monastery that dates back to the 1500s and was until only recently, closed to all but the nuns who cloistered themselves there. The energy of this place brought up feelings of connection with Spirit and our Christian and Buddhist roots. We hope the photos will give you at least a taste of our experiences.

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Lake Titticaca and a Trek to Machupicchu

Dear Friends,

Life in Peru continues to be an adventure. For a dear friend’s visit in early December we decided to leave our nest in Taray and arranged two excursions in Peru, one to Lake Titticaca on the Bolivian boarder and the other, a four-day trek that ended near Machupicchu. We also arranged to leave our house in Taray in late December in order to do homestays in Cusco and Arequipa while studying Spanish. From photos taken on our travels in December, we’ve put together a few short QuickTime videos we hope you’ll enjoy. Perhaps they’ll water your seeds of adventure and curiosity for that corner of the world that calls to you.

Currently we are in Cusco, a city of about 300,000, more if you count tourists. The Cusco district of Peru spans from the city of Cusco to Machupicchu. Taray, where we spent our two months in Peru, falls in this region. Incan and pre-Incan ruins, and mountainside terraces used in farming are common in the region. The area has been farmed for centuries and has been called the Sacred Valley for its fertile soil at least since the time of the Incans in the 15th century. The language, traditions and spiritual practices of the Incans and the Andean people are very much alive in this place.

Our stay in Cusco came about by our wanting to improve our Spanish. Though we’ve gotten around with our limited skills, we decided it was time to knuckle down and learn the tenses and expand vocabulary. We have four hours of individual classes a day, two hours of grammar and the other comprised of  teacher/student field trips in and around Cusco. These trips definitely have taken us off the beaten tourist trail and we’re learning a lot about this area, it’s people and their customs that we would not have learned otherwise. Two weeks into our stay, Cusco has been a truly rich experience. At the end of this week, we’ll fly to Arequipa, Peru, again to study Spanish, live with a host family and soak up the sights, sounds and smells of the “white city,” named for the white volcanic stone used in its buildings. In early February, we’ll head to Ecuador for a four-week volunteer experience on the Galapagos Islands. At this writing, we are also awaiting final word from the Peace Corps regarding our placement in Africa. We expect that once the holidays are really over, we’ll hear something definite as to which country we’ll be assigned and when we’ll be heading out . . . . Please keep us in your prayers.

Our good friend, Sue, visited us for two weeks in mid-December. For her visit we decided to stretch our wings. The first trip began in our backyard with a climb up, around and over the Pisac ruins. Pisac is about a half-hour walk or 5-minute mototaxi ride from the rented house in Taray. (A mototaxi is a three-wheeled motorcycle with a covered cab for passengers.) The ruins at Pisac is one of our favorite hikes. The energy of the Incas remains palpable still, over five hundred years after the Spanish conquest. The hike was also good preparation for the upcoming Salkantay trek. After two months in Peru, we’re still adjusting to the altitude. And from our trek in June we know the air gets pretty thin at 15,000 feet.

1. The video begins with photos from the small pueblo of Taray, moves to the market of Pisac, and into the ruins where a few vendors sell hand-made textiles. The video then moves to Cusco and the cathedral in the central square, Plaza de Armas, and to a view from our inn.

In Cusco we caught the tour bus that took us to the city of Puno for our visit to Lake Titicaca. Along the eight-hour bus ride, we made various stops. One included ruins of tall adobe walls that are some of the tallest remaining adobe architecture of the Incas. We also visited a lovely little church that boasts of being South America’s “Sistine Chapel.” Closer to Puno, a winding two-lane road took us past high mountains with glaciers, shining down from some 20,000 plus feet. We arrived in Puno in the late afternoon to rain and chilly temperatures and checked into our room. A surprise to us, it had a nice view of the lake over the tops of buildings in town. We’ve noticed that we’ve had good karma for window vistas in Peru, knock on wood.

The next morning we boarded a small boat that launched us into Lake Titicaca. Our group had about 14 friendly folks, several Europeans, a couple from Argentina, a young man from Montana and ourselves. Lake Titicaca began with a visit with the Eros people, who live on man-made isles of packed reeds anchored to the lake floor. We took a short ride in one of their reed boats and visited with a family in their small hut. After reboarding our boat, we had a scenic three-hour ride to beautiful Amanati Island. At the island’s port our host greeted the three of us. She’s in her traditional island dress, a woven skirt, black headscarf and white embroidered blouse. You’ll see her behind the scenes later on her kitchen stool peeling potatoes for dinner. With a wood burning stove and no running water, the kitchen photos exhibit the reality of her life. Still, the soft light from the fire in the stove created a welcoming ambiance in the kitchen, probably not unlike many kitchens in the rural areas of Peru. We enjoyed getting to know the family and especially enjoyed playing with the young boy and his sister. We’ve found that our camera and its LED screen are wonderful tools for connecting with children. While they love pictures of themselves, children are also interested in photos from other places.

Earlier in the day our group took a hike to the temple for mother earth seated at the mountain’s highest point. The weather became colder with the setting sun, but the body heat from hiking uphill helped us find a comfortable balance. The views of sky, mountain and lake were simply unreal. We think the photos offer a good feel for what we experienced.

In the morning, we had breakfast, visited a third island and began the three-hour ride back to Puno. There we shared dinner and conversation with the young man from Montana and the couple from Switzerland. The group ordered cuy (guinea pig), a traditional Peruvian dish, pizza and traditional soups. The next morning we set out on the long return bus trip back to Cusco.

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2. After returning to Taray and resting for a couple of days, we were off on a 4-day, 3-night trek that would end near Machupicchu. The trek serpentines near the foot of Salkantay Mountain, a glacier covered mountain that reaches 20,500 feet. We had contacted Daniel, our guide on our Lares trek in June, who recommended and arranged the trip. He coordinated the personnel, rented gear like tents and cooking equipment and, with the cook, purchased food necessary to make a safe and reasonably comfortable journey. Still, we slept on 1.5” Thermarest mattresses in a nylon tent. Temperatures on the first night were in the mid-30s with a constant cold drizzle. Though we had the comfort of not lugging backpacks (impossible in this altitude), we still felt the connection with the earth and her elements that being in the backcountry has brought on backpacking treks in the U.S.

On the first two days of the trek, we saw only a few people and those were local folks. The climb to the 15,000 ft pass near Salkantay offered amazing views. Glacier mountains contrasted beautifully with the verdant valleys and stone constructions. The horse grazing in the field seemed to be an expression of the freedom, strength and grace of this place. The mountain valleys also seemed to be hard places to live – the isolation, the cold in the summer season, the lack of farmland that was so common in the Sacred Valley. Yet it felt like an old place and one still unspoiled. Notice the moss on the stone fence and the clear running creeks that will flow into the narrow and forceful river shown in the subsequent video. Near the pass, the snow, black boulders, and thick mist cast their own magic spells.

In one segment we relaxed on a slate of rock while the cook and his assistant prepared a snack and hot tea. The novelty of snow wasn’t lost on the cooks as they used their artistic knack and good  humor in building hombres de heilo (snowmen) and later in decorating pancakes. We had an incredible team: Daniel and his girlfriend, Maryellen, a guide in training; the cook and his assistant; and a horseman and his five-member team.  The combination of horses and mules carried equipment and supplies. The fifth horse was a backup. Treks wouldn’t be possible for tourists without the support of local people. On our end, we provided work for these men at a good rate.

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3. On the other side of the pass we entered into a cloud forest that brought a more temperate climate and rich foliage. On the descent we encountered amazing rivers, waterfalls and a host of flowering plants, orchids, and vibrant bromeliads. The scenery was in bold contrast to what we had experienced the two days before, both extraordinary. And it offered its own challenges. Where the initial leg brought a steady ascent of about 6,000 feet, the two-day descent on an often wet and rocky trail required focused mental effort and potentially more impact on our knees and ankles. For Sue, the extra horse provided a welcome break from time to time.

The bridges were unreal. A few bridges were no more than two tree trunks joined by rough-cut planks. We’d seen bridges near Pisac that we simply couldn’t attempt and instead used our poles to hopscotch through on creek stones. The force of the streams and rivers in the cloud forest were simply too strong for this. Careful, one wrong step and . . . .

We ended our 22-mile hike at a hot springs near St. Teresa, a half-hour train ride from Aquas Calientes, the base town for Machupicchu. At the hot springs, the shower, though cold, felt almost as good as the late evening soak in the steaming pool. We camped at the springs, and that evening and early morning ambled about lightheaded and still a little dazed by what we had seen and felt on the Salkantay Trek.

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4. After the welcomed break in the comfort of the hot springs, the next morning we caught the train for the short ride to the colorful town of Aguas Callientes, where we then picked up a bus for the final leg of our journey up to Machupicchu. Today, we would discover that the combination of energies from the surrounding mountains, when joined by the clouds and rain, enhanced the already powerful energy of Machupicchu. Even before stepping off the bus, we each sensed that we were headed for a unique and exciting experience.

The cool rain and heavy clouds stayed with us for most of the day as we explored this sacred city, climbing up and down hundreds of its ancient stone steps. We learned from our guide, Daniel, how the Incas had used some of the structures as calendars to mark the seasons, others indicated the four cardinal directions. We visited buildings that housed the priests and, others, where ceremonies and rituals had been performed. The popular spots included the Temple of the Sun and the Chamber of the Princess that adjoined it. The area of the condor is one of Jordan’s favorite. The Condor’s beak and wringed collar is frame in rope on the stone floor. The following photo shows the stone wall behind its head, where its wings emerge, outstretched. We also visited the Temple of the Moon, the Royal Tomb and a host of other structures in this ancient complex. In one of the photos you will see the effects of earthquakes on one of the walls. This is one of the few places where this ancient architecture has been damaged by earthquakes. As we explored these and other ruins in the Sacred Valley, we’ve heard repeatedly how the Incan walls remained solid while many of the newer structures surrounding them had fallen. Some of the buildings in the heart of the city of Cusco are built over these ancient walls and are still so tightly arranged that a needle can’t be inserted between them.  The photos certainly don’t do justice to the place or the experience, but we hope they will provide at least a taste of this amazing place.

In the early afternoon, Sue and John decided to attempt the climb up Waynapicchu, a taller sister mountain across a narrow valley from Machupicchu. It’s the tall mountain in the background in some of the first photos of the ruins. Jordan followed her own good judgment and opted for a dryer seat under the shelter of an outdoor café and the comfort of hot tea. This is John’s description of the climb and descent of Waynapicchu:

“When Sue and I started up the trail even before the first steep climb, I was feeling tired and doubted that I would make it to the top. A short while later, I felt a burst of energy. It was as if I were 30 years old again and nothing could stop me. I have often experienced such energy shifts before, especially while backpacking in the states, but never to this degree. At the top, I felt an amazing connection with the clouds, the mountains and the earth around and under me. It was as if the clouds were an extension of my breath, the earth an extension of my body. Similar to some of my experiences with the shaman in the jungle in October, there was the experience of all self-reference falling away, leaving only the experience of non-dual reality. Gotta love it when that happens! Then it was time for us to make our way down. The rain had picked up and a chill was settling into my body as we negotiated the often-slippery stone staircases in our race with the worsening weather and the closing time of this area of the complex. It was a nice trip down without incident and I felt a rush of gratitude as we passed the entrance gate for this amazing experience and a safe return to somewhat level ground.”

Sue and John were half-frozen when they reunited with Jordan some two hours after parting at the foot of Waynapicchu. We three headed to the bus for our ride down the mountain to Aguas Callientes. We had a good lunch, which came with two exquisitely carved carrots. We then jumped back on the economical “backpacker train” for our two-hour ride to the town of Ollantaytambo, not far from Pisac. In the train, we met young folks from British Columbia, Lima and Europe and shared snacks and conversation about our lives and our journeys. The next morning we returned to Cusco, as Sue would fly back to the U.S. the next day. We stayed at the charming inn pictured in the first clip and that day enjoyed the sights and sounds of this colonial city. We discovered an interesting restaurant that Sue claimed was more like Asheville than Asheville. Truly a compliment as this progressive North Carolina city has been a favorite vacation spot for all of us for many years.

Time relaxing mixed with climbs and explorations of the ruins of Pisac, the trip to Lake Titicaca, the Salkantay trek and Machupicchu were all rich times for the three of us. Before we knew it, Sue’s was awaiting check-in at the Cusco airport and our two short weeks together were over. Jordan and I returned to the task of getting packed and moved from our little house in the quiet valley to the city life of Cusco and another three-week Spanish emersion experience.

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Life is truly an adventure! Stay well!
Jordan and John