Oil on Canvas 30″ x 30″
Photo by Bonnie Arbittier: www.bonniearbittier.com
Part of photoshoot for the following article: Victoria Advocate https://www.victoriaadvocate.com/news/2016/jul/06/victoria-artist-finds-inspiration-south-of-border/
Life is a series of doors we step through. Each door leads to a new Universe. These doors come to us as people, places or even activities. Each person, for example, is the center of their Universe, and you become a satellite of them there just as they are a satellite within yours. Some people do not step through many doors, staying for the most part in the same Universe into which they were born. This is okay, as each Universe is infinite and provides limitless experience.
I have always been eager to open new doors. In my youth there were so many, and each opened into a world with even more exciting doorways available. I flew through them daily, until the world from the year before, when re-visited, seemed alien to me and I had no place there. Eventually I came to a point where the doors seemed to beckon to me, urging me to step through and thereby become as them. This was a little frightening, and I got into the habit of searching out new doors which were similar but different to the future I was being urged toward. I in effect invented my own doorways.
I would sit and think. I would sit and dream. I would use logic and analogy to come up with a plan. Sometimes my depression would force me to act, and I would spin into a world where no one else had been before. This has become a habit over the years. Now I feel more comfortable sailing through an alien landscape than playing a role within the status quo. But this kind of life, though tremendously rewarding, has depleted my power reserves over the years, especially financially. For to get anywhere within a world, one must put down roots and gather reserves. I’ve never done this.
A long time ago I realized we are all in prisons of our own making. The only answer is to design your cell with as much care as possible. Lately I’ve actually designed and created my prison cell from scratch, as it were. From the porch of this little dwelling I can sit and ponder a landscape of boundless beauty. I can see mountains that are fifty miles away or watch the movements of tiny insects at my feet. And yet, it is still a prison.
Now the doors aren’t appearing very often, and my imagination for inventing new doors seems to be wearing away as well. Oh I still have big dreams, but I can’t imagine how to fund them.
If I only had a little dough.
I was sitting in the shade looking at a dragonfly perched on the hood of my truck like a tiny hood ornament, thinking about how flies can stay in the vicinity even after a stiff breeze comes by. Do they fly against the wind to keep in place? Do they hide behind something until it passes? Are they blown away and just replaced by flies from upwind?
These are the profound thoughts I was having when I noted a small roar off in the distance. I’ve heard it before, and it was getting louder and closer. It was the roar of wind blowing through the brush and trees of my desert vicinity. As the roar became increasingly louder I could see the trees in the distance bending. The roar of the wind was fluctuating as it approached, like a wave approaching the beach. It was just about to break upon me.
As the wind hit I closed my eyes, but the sand and jetsam stung my bare skin like tiny needles. I was then thinking I should have ducked into the shelter, but soon enough it passed. A stool had blown over, and a wooden pallet, but most everything stayed in place, having been situated according to previous blasts across the land.
I looked over at my dragonfly hood-ornament, still in place. The flies would be back soon.
I thought about including this post in my Journey Through Latin America, but after spending some time in Texas I realized it really is not very Latino. They have alot of Latinos there , and some great Tex-Mex food, but it really is a place of its own. After a week with my parents in Victoria, Texas I scooted up to Reedville to stay over with my cousin Luke and his beautiful wife and darling daughter. I took full advantage of the huge crop of pecans they had all over their yard before heading out towards Austin. As I left Reedville I spotted this Longhorn grazing nearby.
Austin, Texas has grown phenomenally since I lived there in the 80’s and early 90’s. They seem to have raised a skyscraper for each of the 17 years since I left. It is a fabulous place, with posh restaurants and a funky neo-retro look to all the latest architecture. They have a great statue of my old buddy Stevie Ray on the shores of Ladybird Lake.
Despite the urgings of my friends to stay in Austin and re-make my life there, I felt the Sonoran Desert calling me. I had a long drive from Austin to Truth or Consequences, New Mexico where I stayed with my cousin Jeff. I enjoyed meeting his kids and viewing his leatherworking shop, but soon I was back on the road to Arizona. I stopped at my favorite rest area near Texas Canyon, AZ where the landscape is otherworldly.
By mid-afternoon I was in Tucson, and I breathed deep the air of the Sonoran Desert. Stepping out of my car into the yard of my friend Ann Marie, the smell of creosote bush and other subtle fragrances wafted welcomely through my nostrils. The next day I couldn’t wait to drive a little further west towards the Coyote Wilderness Area where I hope to purchase some land and begin building a Sustainable Desert Community. This is my latest dream, and I encourage you to follow this new blog to see how it progresses.
It was hot and sweaty in Tecun Uman, Guatemala, where I had to take one of these tricycle taxis from the bus station to the Mexican border. It was much cheaper to walk across the bridge then to pay $4 to be tricycled across. Guatemalan and Mexican immigration was smooth enough, although a slow and sweaty process. From there I took a shuttle to Tapachula, where I had to wait a couple of hours for the bus to Arriaga. It gave me time to relax and have some good Mexican tacos. It seems to me that Mexican tortillas are the best.
I enjoyed a night and a day in Arriaga, Mexico where I had stayed before, at the Hotel Chiapas, although they had raised their rates somewhat since I was here in October. I had more great Mexican street tacos, then in the morning an incredible breakfast buffet for $4 that set me up through lunch. I had to wait all day and into the night for my bus to leave for Oaxaca at 9PM. It was nice to be in a real bus station rather than just a spot on the sidewalk.
I slept on the bus all night and arrived in Oaxaca around 5AM, so the Hostel Paulina, where I had stayed in October, only charged me for the following night. Breakfast was included, and the staff recognized me and requested a musical performance. I gave them a Promo CD of Luis Sabor and the next morning they were playing it for the breakfast service.
I really like Oaxaca, Mexico. It is one of the few large state capital cities that still retain a relaxed atmosphere, despite being very busy and offering a great deal of opportunities for shopping and entertainment. It is similar to Leon, Nicaragua in this regard. I enjoyed visiting a large mercado, where I tried on a sombrero, since I had accidentally left my leather hat on a bus in Escuintla.
I also tried a few of these “chapulines”: chili-fried crickets, at the insistence of my friend Porfirio, whom I had met back in October when I was busking in the Plaza. Porfirio and I talked a great deal and he had an interesting story to tell. Having grown up on the streets, he had just spent his first entire year dependence-free, after being addicted to heroin for six years. It was inspiring to hear how he had pulled himself out of the gutter, literally, with the help of God, to escape the living hell he had endured. He was incredibly optimistic, and I have felt compelled to pray for him, as his trials certainly cannot be over.
After just two days in Oaxaca, I was ready to board another bus for a long trip to Puebla. The bus stations were starting to resemble airports now, and the buses were more comfortable, including bathrooms and movies, although much more expensive than in other countries.
Okay, I’m now well on my way back home to Arizona. I flew from Lima, Peru to San Jose, Costa Rica which cost a bit more than I had planned. When I arrived at the ticket counter in Lima the young lady informed me that Costa Rica would not allow me to enter the country after being in Peru without a yellow fever vaccination, ten days prior to entering Costa Rica. How could I do that? I was not allowed to switch my flight to another country, and staying in Lima for another 10 days would cost hundreds of dollars. As it turned out, the airline is accustomed to the situation and set me up with a valid vaccination document pre-dated by 15 days from a nearby hospital, and I just had to pay $210 (to tip everyone involved) Well it sucked, but everything went smoothly after that , and I was so happy to land in Costa Rica. I immediately felt my spirits rise as I stepped out into the relatively fresh air of Alajuela, and I enjoyed a good night at the nearby Hostel Maleku, where I had stayed before.
The next morning I took out just a little bit more colones from the ATM than I had caluculated to get me to San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua. The bus ride was a bit long, but not uncomfortable, and we stopped halfway to Liberia for a break, which has been rare on my trip. In Liberia I met two Swedish girls who were also on the way to San Juan del Sur, so we went through customs together, lucky for them, for they had no dollars, and Nicaragua doesn’t accept anything else to enter the country. I lent them the $24 they needed, then we shared a taxi to San Juan, and they paid me back when we arrived at the Surfing Donkey. It was great to see friendly faces, and I was amazed at how many of the guys had stayed on to become employees there.
I rested at San Juan del Sur just a couple of days, and it was great to hit the beach and swim in the pool and eat Nicaraguan food. The second and last night I was there, the Surfing Donkey folks decided to try out a new drinking game concept: 1 shot of rum every 5 minutes until you pass out or vomit. Sounds fun huh? right, well I was one of a number of observers and eventually caregivers to the four participants. It was pretty funny the first hour, then it got a little scary. Three folks were sick or passed out within 1 1/2 hours, and the winner, Dan the Bear that Grills, was still steady.
I woke up early the next morning, did a short Qi Gong workout, then heaved my backpack on, picked up my guitar, and walked a few blocks to catch the direct bus to Managua. When I reached Managua I had to take a taxi across town to the station for buses to Leon, but it all went smoothly and a couple of hours later I was paying another taxista in Leon just $1 to take me to Lazybones Hostel, where I had spent a week back in November. This time in Leon I decided to make an effort to photograph people, which I am rather uncomfortable doing. Most of the time people don’ t like to be photographed by strangers, so some of the photos I just shot from the hip so to speak ( more like from the chest.)
Besides the swimming pool at Lazybones, I had been looking forward to two things in Leon: Asado Pelibuey (bbq lamb) and some excellent French pastries. Saturday night they ran out of pelibuey, so I had to eat chicken, but it was awesome with the gallo pinto, tortilla, slaw and fried plantain. Then Sunday morning the French bakery was closed, but I bought some delicious bbq pork at the market served on mashed yuca (manioc) and slaw, wrapped in a banana leaf. Monday I had my pastry and my pelibuey.
Yes that is iguana for sale in the Leon market downtown, although I never saw it offered on any menu. I just stayed in Leon a couple of days but as luck would have it, or as a gift from above, I stopped to listen to a band begin their set on an open-air stage downtown and when I heard the Santana style I hurried back to the hostal for my guiro. I started playing along and the band members called me up onstage and we jammed out for a couple of hours to a very appreciative crowd.
I woke up before dawn and did some Qi Gong under the stars by the pool, then I grabbed my belongings and took a taxi to the bus station. The direct bus to the El Salvadoran border had left at 4:30 AM, so I took a chicken bus to Chinandega, then a shuttle to the border, watching the Volcan Chinandega as I left Nicaragua.
From Costa Rica I took a big leap south to Lima, Peru where I have been for several weeks visiting my son who lives here permanently. After travelling in Central America for the past three months, I was a bit culture-shocked upon arrival to this immense metropolis. As a taxi driver informed me, Lima has more than 13 million inhabitants. It could hardly be more different than Monteverde Costa Rica.
I’m staying at a very comfortable hostel, Youth Hostel Malka, located in San Isidro, near the touristy district of Miraflores. If Lima were New York City, than San Isidro and Miraflores would be Manhatten. Most hotels are quite expensive here, but the hostel is only $12 a night for a dorm, and they throw down a really great breakfast with fresh squeezed OJ, eggs and fresh rolls, coffee or tea. It is a considerable distance from Callao, where my son lives, so I have become adept at utilizing the very efficient microbus system. You can catch a bus easily within 5 minutes and they charge little more than fifty cents for most destinations.
Throughout the metropolis are beautifully manicured parks, which is really nice in such a vast concrete jungle. There are also quite alot of birds about, mostly pigeons and doves, though from time to time some exotic species may appear.
Many of the small neighborhood parks have permanent shrines, and for Christmas they add a nativity scene. The baby Jesus doesn’t appear until Christmas day.
Peru is full of ancient ruins, and Lima itself has several “Huacas”, which are something like mudbrick pyramids. This is one in the heart of San Isidro, Huaca Pucllaya.
The tour guide at the Huaca assured us that the Incas had developed 3000 different varieties of potato, although I think that 300 is sufficiently impressive. He also showed us “cuys”, or guinea pigs, which are a popular food in the Andean regions, and the “Perro Chino”, a hairless dog which is actually native to Peru. The guide was sincere in pointed out the great advantage this pooch has as a substitute for a hot water bottle in bed at night.
After resting up in Liberia, Costa Rica for a few days, I was ready for the journey to Monteverde. Offered every taxi driver on the plaza 500 colones, or one dollar, to take me to the bus terminal, but they all turned me down and I just heaved my backpack and guitar the six blocks and got on a bus to Cañas.
From Cañas I took a short ride to Tilaran, where we waited an hour for the bus to Monteverde. Seeing Tilaran I wished I had spent a couple of days there instead of Liberia, but it was too late to stop there as I was rapidly approaching my flight date of Dec 12 out of San Jose. At the bus stop I ran into a nice Dutch lady named Lisel, whom I had met in Liberia, and who has been riding a bicycle all over Costa Rica. What fun! She was taking the bus to Monteverde, however, because the road is steep and rough. The road is indeed rough, and my bladder seemed so full by the time we finally arrived in Santa Elena, the actual town near the Monteverde Reserve. The road was so dusty that my backpack and guitar , which had been stored below, were covered with a thick layer of it.
The scenery was quite beautiful and cool as we climbed up into the clouds. In Santa Elena I stayed at a recommended hostel, Pension Santa Elena, which is quite reasonable and just a block from the bus stop, and is run by a brother/sister team from Austin, Texas with the surname of Smith.
After talking to the beautiful receptionist about my journey, I set off for the bar Tres Monos that she recommended as a place I might perform my show as Luis Sabor. After talking to the owner, we arranged for me to play that Saturday night at the Dikary Restaurant, which turned out to be alot of fun.
The day before the show was when I made the mandatory journey to the cloudforest. Most of the other travellers I met were also taking zip line tours, night tours, bungee jumping and many other fun things, but my budget allowed me only the walk in the jungle. I loved it.
I first saw an agouti sniffing around the banana trees at the entrance, then I glimpsed a light-colored coyote and a raptor of some sort, and I heard what may have been a toucan. Later on I heard and saw a troop of coatimundis, one of which was quite large, but I couldn´t get a good shot for a photo, and it was rather dark. I started shooting with abandon and took a video as well, and suddenly my battery was dead. A while later I saw some white-faced capuchin monkeys and miraculously my camera had just enough juice left for a photo.
A friend of mine from Tucson, Susu, whom I had not seen for 13 years lives in Monteverde with her Tico husband Marcos who is an excellent guide, and they graciously invited me to stay with them a couple of nights in their lovely new house with their lovely new daughter Eva, who is absolutely adorable.
Susu´s parents have a large property and gorgeous home, complete with orchard and greenhouse, and there is a large section of the land that is easily as pleasant to walk through as the reserve. The following photos should make it obvious why so many retirees move to Costa Rica.
The last night in Monteverde we went to a choir performance directed by Susu´s father Hugh Gray and featured the Smith family, of Pension Santa Elena. It really is a small, close-nit community, and I think within a few weeks I could have met most of the members. I really enjoyed my visit there and hope to come back, but I have a plane to catch in San Jose, bound for Lima, Peru.