Macchu Picchu Ceremony
Oil on Canvas , 34″ x 34″
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.
If you look at a chart of the stock market spanning the last 10 years, the lowest point for the S&P500 was around March 1, 2009. That just happened to coincide with the moment my marriage fell apart. I was exhausted from a hard week at work, trying to train an incredibly dense new employee. My wife happened to be suffering from her monthly experience, and my son of five years happened to be at his most irritating stage of life. He hadn’t yet acquired the skill of telling when an adult is getting angry. I had to yell at him, she had to yell at me, and suddenly I had a momentary emotional breakdown. I’m not a violent person, and I would never say abusive things to anyone, but I can yell pretty damn loud when I want to. It was only a few seconds, but it was devastating. Apparently, my wife had been significantly more unhappy with our marriage than she had ever communicated to me. It was over, just like that.
Here’s the interesting part: she had nowhere to go. All of her family lives in Peru (you can see why she was unhappy.) She had no job, and I didn’t make enough to support one household, much less two. I certainly wasn’t going to say “O.K. , here’s $2000 for plane tickets to Peru, so you can take my son away from me.” I didn’t even want a divorce, so I just left her alone with her conundrum. I moved into the guest room/ art studio.
We lived that way for three full years. The amazing thing was—it was not bad at all. We love our son, so we made it work for his sake. Oh there was certainly a long period of resentment, and I found myself behaving like I did long ago when I was feuding with a roommate—you know, pushing their buttons, leaving them work that you could easily take care of yourself. Then I just asked myself, “Why am I doing this? There’s no law that you have to hate your ex-wife.” So I stopped it all.
I suppose it was easier for me than it would be for most, because I’ve been meditating for years. I recite to myself, every morning, the prayer of St. Francis:
Lord, make me an instrument of Thy Peace; where there is hate, let me sow Love; where there is injury—Pardon; where there is despair—Hope; where there is doubt—Faith; where there is darkness—Light; where there is sadness—Joy…..
It’s a good reminder of how I want to live, even though our society programs us to be combative. I actually love everyone. I certainly abhor the things that most people do, but I don’t blame them for their behavior. We are programmed, and years of programming is difficult to purge. I just pray that more people can break the cycle. My ex and I have taught our son that divorce doesn’t have to be full of hate. Now I want to pass on to you the knowledge—it is possible. Don’t assume that you have to behave the way people expect you to behave. Choose the good path. You’ll be glad you did.