for the winds that sound within

i realize it´s been a little while..and i´ve been places, far beyond one´s words and further more what´s inside, this place having been born out of my own creative desire
hey, hey, wind. dreams, dreams, smoke and fire.
transformation.
i will make this simple.
i am in arequipa.
and i do not
feel
like writing

i have met a lovely being

now i feel i have yet another thousand words to tell and still have to retrace myself to that day in huacachina with julio. not that these tales are mighty significant but i like to feel i´ve done a sufficient job of the recounting of experiences.

i spent the next day similarily to that evening, in julio´s workshop, fingers working away knotting trails of string. i was buzzing on marijuana and felt intimate with the work my hands were doing, with my internal material, and with the space i was sharing with julio. by now i kind of had him figured out a bit better and felt amused, rather than threatened, by his method of pursuit for physical intimacy. it was that voice., i couldnt take him seriously in his ´character´ of the ´wise spiritual lover´. i drummed, we spoke. he drummed, we spoke. it felt like regardless of the idea i was attempting to get accross to him, what he was giving back was only ever a slightly different angle of one thing. it was clear that sex was on his mind and little else. no matter our position at the birth of an exchange, he managed to redirect the flow to a point where i had to say ´NO´. i dont think he was even conscious of this totally mindless repetition at all. at one point i was even in a fit of laughter at our communication, which exasperated him further because i could not explain why.

often during moments of emotional intimacy between myself and another, which might simply mean sharing ones self on a completely honest and open level, i feel i am experiencing the other person from behind a pane of glass, that there is still something dividing me from the other. i thought of this that afternoon, and wondered if i had ever had an experience with another human being where both of us were experiencing the exact same thing at the exact same time, completely in sync, completely one. i imagine this would be like merging into one light, one beautiful, divine light. sometimes i feel strange when i look in eyes knowing that i dont know how this person is experiencing this moment, that they dont know how i am experiencing this moment. i may feel like i am a spindel, all within me flying, spinning, in reaction to someone else,who is solid, who is not reacting with me. but also i have moments where my ego feels tiny, miniscule, and plays almost no part in an exchange, or my reaction. then i dont wonder about the eyes, i dont feel that strange lurch of suddenly becoming aware that i am not who i am looking at. then i am flexible, then dancing with all things my partner. then i am not aware of any divisions... this was brought to my mind because i think the idiomatic barriers amplify this sensation of being completely somewhere else when someone´s right in front of me.

i was prodding the web of words and expression as energy was exchanged between us as we spoke, with curiosity. there was some unspoken, and spoken, resistance, but i was approaching the situation with a sense of humor and didnt feel drained by it, at least.
the sun had already began it´s descent before i even realized the entire day had passed in that little room and i hadnt even eaten lunch.

i often wonder how it seems i have managed to manifest this pattern. its not like its uncommon to get pursued by local men here being a single white female, no matter what you look like, but i still feel like this must be due to something in my energetic makeup.
what confuses me is, i think, ok, in all these situations, i feel like i am being given something i wish for, an enriching experience. why does it seem to always come with a cost in the end? and what am i giving back? is this a balanced exchange? i think about how in each case what is wanted of me is to give my physical body,which makes me wonder of course...well, is that right? and is there something i might learn if i open my legs to this guy?! is it possible this is a positive opportunity the universe is giving me to join with another and explore love on the physical plane? i struggle to reconcile my physical and spiritual aspects of existence, and often i feel the two divide me, that they are not one in the same. is there something wrong with me? as i write this it looks so ridiculous. i think i only ask this, and question my own truth, because i instinctively want to adapt and be, fill the shape which is being presented to me.

that evening he had to work at one of the restaurants on the lake front. i felt he was very generous in letting me stay as long as i´d like in his workshop, allowing me complete access to all his things, encouraging me to continue drumming and creating. he was to be off around 10. all day he´d been trying to convince me to sleep in the desert with him, that we could create our own celebration (it was the week of harvest festival in ica) in honor of mother earth, so i had the visual of him and i in the windy, expansive dunes, chanting and drumming, dancing, drinking a bottle of wine. i told him there was no way i was going to sleep in the desert with him, but i was attracted to the other idea.
i´ve discovered my ´tribal´voice. when i am in an isolated spot, i like to sing, spontaneously forming shapes of sounds with no literal meaning. this is my true language. this is a universal language. sometimes they sound like chants, sometimes softer. i feel the rythym and my body yearns to be one with the music, swaying or in more abrupt form, like physical stocato. sometimes it makes me want to weep. i want my own drum so i can combine the two expressions. i want a grand celebration of being!
so julio and i loosely agreed to meet each other at his restaurant later on in the evening.
i gave his didgeridoo another try but could only manage a few pathetic squirts of sound, gave that up, and started feeling a little cooped up having been in that tiny room all day, so i left and layed on a dune for a while, in front of a cluster of trees, electric trees, i could see their colored sparks flying in streaks of light, faint, but something definitely seen. up into the sky.
around 1030 i was waving hello to julio as he swiped away crumbs with a rag on one of the patio tables at the restaurant. he wouldnt be off until everyone had left, and there were still several tables chatting, eating, and drinking. he invited me in though, and i ordered a beer. moments later he introduced me to two friends who had just walked up, one of them i had met the previous night, and the two men joined me at my table. so as the evening rolled on, i ended up having a fantastic time drinking beer with these two pretty eccentric, gay (i think) men who were celebrating jimmy´s birthday, while julio was swooning some other white chick at the table next to mine! what a dink! then i knew he probably just about had his whole spheel scripted, as i overheard snippets of their conversation-oh, i could show you a few pointers if you´d like (yoga) oh really? only 15 minutes to learn how to make that? (bracelet) and him quoting osho and whatnot, blahblah. i was thoroughly enjoying myself, and i got the feeling that the unexpected company (of i) made jimmys birthday evening feel a little bit more special to him. he was a little different, and i dont think he often recieves very warm attention from many people. so julio and i never spoke another word to each other, he left with that woman, and the three of us were the last to leave the restaurant, at that point drunk and dancing with oneanother to the live samba drifting our way across the lagoon. we danced all the way down to the source of music, which was catering to some kind of family social event of old people and one woman on the dance floor waved us over. she was clearly drunk also and having a pretty good time. we have an invitation! i yelled. so i grabbed whatwashisname and we were both shaking our stuff there, me in bare feet, laughing and ecstatic, until one real sour old lady comes up to me and goes, who invited you, and i pointed to the lady who waved us over and i said she did! and she just shook her sour old face at me and was trying to get the other lady to stop dancing with my friend, i´m guessing it had something to do with our appearances? i felt really affected by it and wanted to leave right away, i pretended not to feel hurt by it, i laughed some more and motioned that we leave. so they walked me back to my hostal where they caught a taxi back to ica.

the next day i was in paracas.
i feel a little bit silly, the last i´d written i´d had the date wrong, and on the morning of the 15th, i was thinking it was my birthday. it wasn´t until i looked at my bus ticket to the nasca that afternoon that in fact i would still be 20 for another day.

Paracas, Peru

this is my second day here in paracas, a very very tiny town which basically only exists as a kind of tourist trap for those of us travellers seeking a boat tour of the islas ballestas, the socalled poor mans galapagos (it costs 10 dollars. a galapagos tour averages in price at 1000!) so theres a strip of overpriced seafood restaurants and hotels, a strip of artesanial shops, and a small, smelly grey beach. oh, and the dock.
the morning i left huacachina (ill go into more detail later. oh, also, this keyboard sucks and seems to be missing some punctuation, so forgive me), i was feeling a little, ok, pretty hungover, but was slowly forcing my three white breakfast buns down at the poolside restaurant/bar. a nice guy (from edmonton!) who had just arrived asked me about breakfast prices, ordered one, and then sat with me at my table. we only spoke for a little bit, but i had yet another one of those moments where i am silently uttering, thankyou. and it was so simple. i knew i was heading to pisco that day, but had only a very vague idea of what the whole islas thing was about, i wasnt even aware that paracas was a separate town, that its best to stay here, etc, so in 15 minutes i learned everything i needed to know, recieving information at the exact moment i needed it. and he told me how to find the cheapest bed. (4.50!) i am appreciative of these moments because i feel that they are more than coincidences, although it would be easy to regard them as so. its harmony!
so, my bed is part of a dorm room which is not officially part of a hostal, and there are no bathroom facilities. the owner of the hotel across the street is the brotherin law, and so i was told i could use the shower and toilet there. its a little bit of a pain, and the room itself is like a brick oven. i have not been feeling very well, (at first i thought it was just my hangover, but i was experiencing some pretty uncomfortable stomach pains later on in the day, and i think its more likely something i had eaten.) i tried laying down for a bit, but it was impossible to rest, what with the paper thin walls separating me from a group of arguing constrution workers, and my bed was on the top bunk. i was absolutely physically inactive and yet there was still sweat pouring down my face. so, ive been overall, physically quite uncomfortable for the past 2 days, and why does it seem like my scampering talkative mind is so closely correlated with nausea? there probably was something bad in my stomach, but i notice the way my body reacts to a racing mind. i think i feel a little bit overstimulated perhaps. it is easy for me to get a little over excited when my social activity reaches a high level, and i forget what is most important, and become trapped in a whirlpool of wordthoughts instead of taking even a few moments to breathe and find my peace. and i think this definitely relates to my physical state of being.
this morning i took the tour to the islands even though i wasnt feeling 100 percent, since id already paid for it the day before. i could barely enjoy it though, as i was concentrating on not throwing up.i had to breathe through my mouth because the scent mixture of gasoline and rotten fish in combination with a rocking boat doesnt do much for the nausea. never have i, and probably not you either, seen so many birds in one place. the boat cruised through the islands, which were really nothing more than big rock formations, and idled its engine at certain spots to allow us time to appreciate the animals, which were mostly different types of seabirds, colonies of them, penguins (really! penguins!) and sea lions. i have to say, sea lions are probably the absolute wierdest creatures ive ever seen. in one spot there were probably a hundred of them, like fat slugs with flippers, singing. it sounded like i was in a monestary, listening in on a symphony of monks. very cool. on the way back we also saw some dolphins, though mostly just their fins, gliding through the sea.
i havent so quickly gotten so bored like this in a beach town before, usually theyre places that i end up spending more time in than id thought. and where did all these gringos and hippies come from? it feels a little wierd seeing so many other travellers in such a small, confined spot with such a halfhearted atmosphere. because of my physical state, i havent been feeling all that friendly, so ive taken a stance of avoidance. looks like ill be all by my lonesome tomorrow, turning 21, in nazca.

alright, huacachina.
since parting with the girls in huancayo, i was feeling pretty vibrant and social, and thought id give one of these so called party hostals a try, which ive avoided in the past becuase ive figured theyre probably utilized by a lot of characters that im just not interested in meeting. huacachina is a wierd place. its similar to the way i was describing paracas, only instead of an islands tour attracting visitors, its main attraction is a small, (and artificial, i found out) dirty looking lagoon, amidst sand dunes, about 10 minutes from the city of ica. why does this place exist?? i was thinking, this is so wierd. literally, one street, lined with a bunch of hostals and touristy restaurants surrounding the lake. and a whole lot of white people, who come here to sandboard and party. the hostel was ok, very popular. i used the pool for a little one morning, and saw that not only people of my stereotyped idea existed there , but i really spent very little time there, and didnt even meet a single person.
i was sitting on a sand dune that i had scampered up my first day there, anticipating the setting of the sun, and watching some groups of friends playing and taking photos in the dunes over a little from mine. i had noticed this guy trudging through the dunes in my direction. he looked slightly ridiculous, as if he had just emmerged into civilization after being lost in the desert. with dark brown muscles shiny in the heat, he was wearing a white ripped up shirt tied over his head and face like a ninja, and was walking with a big carved cane. he was talking to a group of dogs galloping around, and i was thinking, what a nut.
well, of course this nut needed to know the time, which resulted in him asking me permission to sit with me, really stressing that he didnt want anything from me, just to talk, etc. a long relaxed conversation ensued on the peak of the dune, both of us facing the rainbowcolored sky. too go along with his movie set desert gear, he also spoke in a way which sounded a little bit too rehearsed to be real, a little like keanu reeves, and i was amused.
i liked what he was saying. still, a little bit..suspicious, but he was different. he spoke of his deep respect for mother earth, for the woman, his love for the desert, (what? this is really considered desert?) energy, thats all we are, he said, each of us like a grain of sand. alright, i thought, ill give you a chance. he showed me his little workshop, again stressing i was under no obligation, where he had some jewellery for sale. AND 3 drums. which i immediately drew a lot of attention to, and he willingly gave me a little lesson, showing me a few patterns, then leaving me to expore the rhythms for myself. i was so excited. finally, in my hands! for about a month i had been visualizing a drum in my possesion, the texture of the skin beneath my fingertips, the wood held between my thighs, the rythym, the rythym. he also showed me his diy didgerydoo (spelling?) that he was in the process of mastering, and i gave it a try. a difficult instrument, and a little awkward...but maybe later on for me. i remembered the image i had catalouged one night not long before i left. me and jessjess were passing 17th ave one night and on the corner, amongst a throng of friday night bar hoppers, was a girl blowing on a didgeridoo that definitely looked like shed made it herself, seated on a big white pail, which she was banging on like a drum. i want to do that, i thought. i want that to be me someday.
he also showed me how to make a few simple pieces of jewellery. he smoked pot and drummed while i sat at the counter, braiding and knotting long colored string to make a bracelet, occassionally turning to him for direction. im wearing it now.
i was thrilled. here i am! im doing these things! i thought about how id fantasized about becoming an artesania like those id met in montanita, making my own jewellery and travelling with it, but thinking, oh that could never happen. well, its probably not, at least not at the moment, but it felt great to be learning something new, acquiring a new skill. no, two new skills! i was a little clumsy with the drum at first, but by the end of the night i think i sounded pretty damn good for a beginner. i was told its best to buy them in cusco, because they are cheapest there, and im thinking about buying one, though it will take a lot of practice before id be comfortable drumming in earshot of other people, and it could probably be a hassle to travel with, but i know there are many who do. and its my dreeaamm.
EXCHANGE. the theme word of this month, developing stronger views. harmony. looking for those exchanges in which dont involve money. to give, and to recieve. to attract those with something i want to recieve, be attracted by those who i may give to.

ok, i need to urinate, though theres a little more to the story, and im a little sad ive just missed a really beautiful sunset being here in front of a computer screen, so ill write more tomorrow.

huancavelica, peru

SO, about my experience that night. it was not a very good one. there were several things right away that were telling me that it wasn´t right for me, but i ignored them, forcing myself to remain positive and optimistic. i didn´t like the man. i knew this moments after he greeted me. the atmosphere was dirty. there were lots of peope in the room. i think this ´shaman´might have even been drinking. i couldn´t believe the way this man was talking about ayahuasca in his conversation with ashuco, animated tales, which i only understood very little of, that were all based on crazy hallucinations and such. i felt like i was overhearing some conversation on a bus with some young guy being all like, dude! i was so fucking high! it was like whoaa, the pattern on the wall was moving in all these different directions, ohh man, dahdahdah. and during this time making almost no eye contact with me whatsoever. ashuco even tried to translate, but i was not amused. ¨heh. mmhmm.¨but i refused to allow myself to be disheartened by this person turning out not to be who i had hoped might finally be the wise man/woman that could tell me things about myself that i don´t already know, someone who emanates love, an experienced healer who is able to work with energy and to see beyond material reality. i was given a very different impression of him beforehand, and i thought, wow, he speaks 4 different indigenous languages, he has studied shamanism with a master for something like 7 years, and has been doing this since he was a young man.
well, whatever. i think he was an asshole and i should´ve asked for my money back at that point, but i didn´t, yearning to experience more of what i had that night in san francisco.
i was pissed off at ashuco too, for having said many things that had turned out to be misleading. i thought we were arriving at his house earlier in the evening so that the shaman and i could speak to one another, that i would share my perspective on life, and my reasons for seeking this plant, that he would be able to ´see´me, and know in which areas needing healing might require his focus during the ceremony. well, none of that happened.
here´s what happened that night.
absolutely nothing.
i couldn´t believe it. after he finally shooed away all the people in his living room, which turned out to be the place where i would be talking the ayahuasca, turned off his t.v., i drank it and he made what sounded like a totally robotic and insensitive speech in a native tongue, with his hand on my head. he shook some leaves over me and sang a chant. then it was silent, dark. after about 30 minutes, i felt absolutely nothing. an hour later, it was becoming pretty clear to me that this just wasn´t happening, so i said something. what? you´re not seeing anything? no. nothing. wait another 20 minutes. 45 minutes later and i just wanted to go to sleep. i told them once again that i wasn´t feeling anything. both ashuco and ´shaman´seemed a little baffled by this. they turned on the lights. he came over to me and prodded certain spots on my body where there was a pulse. ¨hmm, i wonder why not, why not..¨ it was the same amount that i had taken with roger. who knows, maybe it just hadn´t been prepared properly. but he seemed genuinely shocked that i was in a completely normal state of being, completely untouched. you are very strong, he said. you have a very strong spirit! i knew it was too late to ask for my money back, so i let that go, at that point feeling almost amused. oh well, nothing happened, too bad. i could have just left it at that, but i can´t help but search for a deeper meaning. ashuco and i left and he walked me to my hotel and he went to spend the night with some family he had in town. man, i do have a strong spirit, i thought, and my spirit is very wise. probably wiser than that douchebag, and this is why nothing happened. it knew the conditions were not right, that it would not have been an experience of healing, because it was not being guided by the right kind of person with the right intentions. perhaps what i would have seen, or experienced, if my spirit had surrendered, would have harmed me.
well, the next day, i took it easy back in iquitos. but as the day progressed, the more and more i thought about what the decision i´d made, and the more infuriated i became. i couldn´t get ashuco´s face out of my mind and each time i saw it i became more and more disgusted by it. i tried a meditation to calm my mind. it only took a few moments of stillness before i felt what i had been ignoring all day, my spirit, my self, my heart center. i broke down, i´m sorry, i said to myself. feeling like i had been protected, knowing i am loved, divine love. i will not do this again, i will not ignore what i know i know in hopes of an experience that will take me further within it.

i flew back to lima the next day. where i picked up my new bank card that my mom sent to the post office, who were holding it for me. i was so relieved it had worked. i forgot my card in a bank machine somewhere in february and had been using my visa to take out money. i forget why, but there were a bunch of reasons why this was not a very good system of taking money out. so it was a really full day. i made friends with my taxi driver that i took from the airport, and by the time he dropped me off at the post office i think he was just about ready to ask me out to dinner, and i felt good. i bought a bus ticket for the same night to huancayo, and caught about 3 quarters of the movie ´che´ that i saw listed in one of the theatre´s i passed by in the big commercial pedestrian walkway mall type thing before i had to catch my bus, and the following morning i was in huancayo.

i met a super awesome girl from the states in the hostal there, and another woman from canada. i was so grateful to have some female company after my week in iquitos, and they were so funny, and wonderful to spend time with. we had dinner at the restaurant across the street which has folklorica music and dance shows thurs-sat, which was pretty much exactly what i wanted to see, and hear. i´m telling you, there is something about those zampona pipes that just makes me spirit sing. by this time, i recognized almost every song from the radios i hear in restaurants or on buses. there isn´t a whole lot of variety when it comes to latin american music, it seems. after a few hours there, we were taken on a kind of nightlife tour by the man who owns a very profitable tour and language center, and i think the restaurant as well, who is somehow related or connected to the owner of the hostal we were at. we were taken to 2 other restaurant bars, where i watched some entertaining, albeit megga cheesy, musical performances of a slightly different genre. we were drinking the town´s famous ´calientito´drink, which is so sweet you already feel hung over the moment you´ve put down your second glass. i was feeling a little bit bored by the time we were at the third place, but i was still glad i had been able to get a little taste of peruvian nightlife, seeing as, travelling alone and all, i´ve never even been to a bar yet. you know what the great thing about this culture is? music and dance is so much more rich and important to their heritage. we weren´t at the youthful, ´discotecas´, as they´re called, which is like the equivalent of a night club, but i was watching crowds of mostly older, well dressed couples, dancing, drinking, partying it up until wee hours of the morning. i kept laughing at this one guy who was clearly in his late 50´s at least, passionately swaying his hips and arms, mouthing the words to the songs, trying to woo some younger lady. as i´ve heard, the band will play on and on for hours until the place starts to empty out. this does. not. happen. in northamerica. here every man can dance. and every man likes to dance! and it seems like everyone can sing too. it´s wonderful. the next day we went to the big sunday market, but i was a little disappointed i didn´t see anything unique that caught my eye. they do make very beautiful silver jewellery here though, that i could buy at a really amazing price compared to what you might pay in canada, but i don´t think i am really all that interested in silver jewellery.

talking has been feeling differently for me. less awkward. i vibrate with expression. words feel like new things in my mouth, like things i´ve just begun to discover. sometimes i´m even like, whoaa, where is all this coming from, am i even making sense? where are the brakes! i´m talking! more openly, and fearless.

today i am in huancavelica. i was disappointed the train rails are currently under construction, which was half the reason i wanted to come here, so i ended up taking a bus instead. i have yet to see a town quite like this one. i think i will spend tomorrow hunting for good photo opportunities.
oh, by the way, don´t feel too jealous, it is cold. i´m probably sitting in about the same temperature as you guys, only no building is heated here.

huancayo, peru

i feel like i´ve putting this off, putting this off, nagged by my knowinginkling neccesity it is to write about my experience but feeling overwhelmed by all the possible combinations of words and phrases, like beading a piece of jewellery of string that i will never see the end of, and wanting poetry of my bones over journalistic accounts of my doings and happenings of the mind and body interactions with world of creatures and energy. beautiful moments of peace and an unknown clarity that accompany full breaths of deep knowing i can´t touch what is deepest, but content, just simply to breathe. i feel close to my spirit. my future is full of love. reveling childlike grin in my love creations often repeated over many years of future self and partners, but real, then in near empty bus cruising headfirst into darkness, knowing what love is, and i love that i am now.
to get an idea of my past week, i´ll spit up some entries from my own journal.
morning i arrived in iquitos, i was totally bummed when i discovered a real scummy guy, who rushed onto board as passengers were disembarking, brushing up against people´s sides, doing this thing with his arms crossed in such a way to try to disguise fingers wiggling at any opportunity to grab, he´d got a little side pocket on my backpack halfway unzipped before i stepped onto the plank of wood. i saw this and i felt so disgusted, and hurt by it. even if his attempt had been successful, he would only have walked away with a little bottle of hand sanitizer, but this is not the point. i felt the same way i did when i got a woman with her hand in the front pocket of my bag in ibarra. it made me feel betrayed, as a human being. i tried to let it go on my way to the ´hobo hideout´s traveller´s hostal´, and a while later i was having a good satisfying breakfast at an american style restaurant (real coffee at last!). after paying my bill i walked over to the waterfront´s pedestrian stip a block away. very lowkey, nothing like the chaotic docks in pucallpa. large faded walkways with a few remaining flecks of peeling paint, zigzagging down to the swampy area of still water and distant wilderness, untouched, enchanting the view. i was approached by a young local guy who, after greeting me, told me first off he´d like to practice his english with me. i was, a little to my own surprise, totally warm, open, and accepting of him right away. he explained that he had just dropped off some documents for his sister that he had to pick up at the end of the afternoon and he had all day to kill, suggesting we walk towards the neighborhood of belen, ¨the venice of peru´, he said, which it truly is. a poor neighborhood which, during the high water season (now) is only navigatable by boat. it´s made up of hundreds of ´floating houses´. i waited in the market while he arranged for a canoe for us, watching women hunt for clothes at tables piled with clothes for only 1 sole a piece. then i was seated in the back of the old wooden canoe, while some guy paddled us around, and i took some amazing (fingers crossed!) photos. it was great to see, and i couldn´t have pictured that morning going any better. it was something i´d read about and was interested in doing, but felt unsure of the steps needed to make it happen. i consciously thanked, whatever you want to name it, mother aya! god! universe! thanks! because i felt like i was recieving the type of ´travel´that i have wanted, like i was ´in´the current. afterwards, we explored the market a little bit, which was absolute insanity. i thought it was so sweet, when in a serious, and accented, tone, he said, ¨i think, if you don´t mind please, i should hold your hand while we are here, because there are lots of bad boys.¨so i obliged. after emmerging from the bustling crowded blocks of market, where anything can be purchased, from medicinal barks to raw meat, he suggested we go to the zoo, where we´d be able to see a bunch of monkeys, birds and even jaguars. we caught a chicken bus and i enjoyed the 20 minute ride out of the city, observing the street life. i think he felt really important being able to knowledgeably tell me about different animal species as we wandered from cage to cage. my first sight was an amusing display of turtles sunbathing in singular file down a log. i was practically squealing at each animal we passed by. i felt a bit rushed by hime though, who was acting almost a little too formally as a guide, even saying things like, ok, let´s continue, after he thought sufficient time had passed at one spot. i swear, i could watch a cage full of monkeys for hours on end without feeling bored. i don´t know if i even like the concept of wild animals being locked up in cages for display, but i can´t lie and say i don´t enjoy watching them. i was vibrating. i felt like i was communicating the entire morning with wilson so openly, so articulately, clearly. my throat was buzzing. i was being me! there was a nice lake included within the zoo and we swam and i tanned, for a few hours. now i´m gonna have to whine a little bit. i guess he was very taken by me, and although he was generally a respectful guy, he became persistently whiney while we were swimming, because i didn´t want to be close to him. ok, our conversation was pretty funny, and i was amused by him, but he just wasn´t listening to me. oh kristina, i like you so much! ohh, ahgghh, whine whine. when we got back into central iquitos we went into the tour agency where some friends of his worked. he wanted to take me there because he thought he could get me a discount. and before i knew it, i had paid for a 3 day trip into the jungle that i´d be embarking on the following morning at 9. it sounded like everything i´d had in mind. i was a little uncertain how i´d find a group to join for a tour, since it´s not possible to go as one person, and it is low tourist season, so i felt lucky when i found out there was a couple going, from peru. not only that, but i did recieve a very generous discount through wilson. trying to seperate with him at the end of the day proved to be just as aggravating as i´d worried it would be. finally i told him there was a man that i love in canada. why didn´t you say so before? he said, exasperated. well, i didn´t think of it. it hit me that my entire day, or at least, following his first attempts to bring me into his arms in a little too more-than-friendly way, could have been radically different if i´d just been able to tell a little lie and say i had a boyfriend in canada. so simple, but i just can´t. so anyway, at least i can say this and not feel bad about it, it´s true! there are several men i love in canada! (i avoided mentioning that it was not romantically).

Feb.28
i´m here at the lodge now. it´s made up of a series of simple, but nice, wood cabins. soon i, our guide, who has turned out to be far more gentle and knowledgable that i expected, and the older couple, who also, turns out, brought along their little daughter as well, will be visiting an indigenous community as included in the package. we did a short walk around the area and were shown many interesting things by ashuco, with his machete in hand, he continued to impress us by his knowledge of the uses, medicinal, gastronomical, and recreational, of different types of plants and fruits that lined the trail. he demonstrated how, in a certain large flat type of leaf, you were actually able to write or draw on it, with a certain type of bark, which he quickly shaved, even with the massive blade of the machete, into fine points to be used as pencils. it was like magic. he made a few marks on the leaf, and at first, nothing. 30 seconds later the color appeared and the mark was clearly visible! a beautiful shade of fushia, he gave us each one and on mine, later, i etched, AMOR (love) into it. now i think i will use it as a bookmark. later on he stabbed a tree, and a thick white liquied began pouring out of the stab wound and down the trunk. he let it dribble over his finger and then raised it to his mouth to slurp it up. the name of the tree was actually, milk tree! we did the same, and it actually had a nice taste, kind of sweet.
i feel myself connecting with nature on a familiar but amplified level. while i followed behind ashuco, i felt myself expand totally with joy and wonder while i looked at everything around me. every blade of grass a mircale, an expression of love, a mystery. i was connected. i think this will be a very quiet time for me, perhaps this is a good opportunity for me to practice stillness, with the beautiful energy here acting as my guide. i love the jungle! already thoughts have leapt forth, almost in a tone of urgency, of being here for a long time. if i could just meet me ´teacher´, i thought, i could see myself living and learning here, as there is so much this immaculate jungle can teach, about life, love, and healing.

mar. 2
i am now back in iquitos. i´ve just got a room at a real rundown looking place (an attraction in my eye) that wilson pointed out to me on our day together. it seems to me, often owners of hotels, restaurants, agencies, who know one another, kind of work together, each recommending the other. it´s only 2 soles cheaper than the other hostal i was at, but the cheaper the better, i suppose, when as long as i have a clean bed and a decent atmosphere, i´m happy. today i feel extremelely low on energy, but i´m trying to accept it as the current state i´m in and not let myself get frustrated by it. my enthusiasm dwindled the second day of the trip. i didnt feel the same connection with my surroundings, and communication was, felt, really off with ashuco, our guide. i found myself getting very impatient with his pidgin english, and wished he would just stick to speaking spanish, but i think he was under the impression that my spanish level was lower than it actually is, and that he was being a ´good guide´by making the effort to speak in my language. i wished i had been able to express myself totally in my own language, in which i also feel i can be more responsive, open, and relaxed. communication in spanish is still a challenge for me because it requires concentration, memory, what not and it´s easy for me to become withdrawn. i never even spoke with the couple from arequipa, aside from some very general acknowledglements of each other´s presence, i´m thinking about how i might feel differently right now if i´d given myself that little push to connect-if possibly i´d have more energy.
i felt kind of bad about it, but i was getting tired of all the silences between us, and i was growing more and more annoyed at him, in general. because the couple and daughter were there as their own family, it sort of left me and him together often, like during all our meals, which we had in the main lodge room. i didn´t enjoy the trip to the village, which you actually see almost none of. this was an indigenous tribe, that, for tourists, dress up in their traditional dress, which was skirts and tops made of long flat grass or something. the main guy did a demonstration with his huge blow dart, traditionally used for hunting, and we each got a turn. then, the most important part, of course, where we wondered around the circle of huts set up for selling mostly jewellary and other knicknacks, and were expected to buy stuff. this just pìsses me off and maybe i´m being insensitive but i just don´t believe this is a positive exchange, not when it´s set up like that. and then i feel guilty, when i have so much money, in comparison, and them so little. i sat down on the bench and was glad that at least i felt the pressure was off of me, since they could focus their attention on the little girl who was definitely going to be getting anything she wanted. i was further aggravated when the little kids chased after us while we were leaving whispering, tip! tip! (why were they whispering?) and i guiltily gave him some change, not knowing if this was expected or not. agh, everyone here expects a tip for anything. i am frustrated by this because i feel that the element of money can so easily taint an exchange between one another.
the next day was a little better, i got to see a portion of the rainforest that better fit how i had envisioned the amazon, and we were able to see a sloth, a giant tree iquana, and a little marmiset monkey, and some absolutely stunning butterflies. i got paddled around a little bit by ashuco in a portion of jungle engulfed in water. we glided through dark still water, showing glassy reflections of viney trees, with flowing skirts of leaves brushing the surface and shielding us from the sun above. it would have been so peaceful if i hadn´t been swatting away fierce mosquitos.
the next morning, we went on 3 hour walk down a trail that begun from the lodge. at this point i was feeling tired and not all that enthusiastic, but i made it through, forcing myself to say the pleasant things he was expecting, yes, you are a very good guide. thankyou very much. it was difficult to smile. i was glad when i was finally back in iquitos. ashuko talked to me about a ´very good´shaman in nauta, a village a few hours away from here, and that was another thing i´d intended to while in iquitos, so i thought. well, my connection with wilson led me to the watery streets of belen, through the market, to the zoo, and to a travel agency, the tour being the second thing i had intended to do. so that happened, and through the agency, i have met ashuco, who could lead me to a native shaman for another ceremony. but i told him i would think about it.

mar. 4
well, tonight i will be taking ayahuasca for the second time. the circumstances today feel less secure than they did for that first experience, and i did a little scrambling in my decision because there were options that i could have pursued, (scramling is bad! it means i´m looking too hard) but the way the day unfolded, ashuco happened to be the first person i saw, and i made a quick decision and we arranged to do this today. i felt bad about having been annoyed with him. i will be meeting the shaman in the evening. i see no reason for me not to trust ashuco, but i think because i haven´t been able to communicate with him as well as i´d like, it´s been difficult to really get a good feel for who he is, and i´ve been having paranoid thoughts. i was annoyed (ah, again!) when it became clear that i would be paying for everything on this little trip-which was not understood by me when we talked about costs. i reminded myself that i felt amazing after only being in the house of the shaman for a very brief time, where we were met by some girls i presume were his daughters, who were warm and friendly, and informed us we´d have to come back since he wasn´t there at the moment. afterterwards, in the pouring rain, we walked to the pond, homing many turtles and several huge and handsome fish. he wanted to show me that you could feed the turtles bread, so i bought some at a little store nearby-a class case positioned in a doorway accompanied by a standup chalkboard sign with ´hay pan´(there is bread) scribbled on it. i handed him the bag of buns and we stood there under the shelter of the overhang for about 10 minutes before the rain got a bit lighter, and soon we were seated on a wooden bench beneath a thatched roof of the pond´s bodega thing. i was annoyed at the way he was ripping off big chunks of bun and whipping them onto the surface of the water, bam bam bam, and that he got rid of the entire bag of bread without even asking me if i wanted a turn! not that i was really looking forward to it anyway, i don´t see bread being a very healthy thing for the stomach of a turtle (they´re accustomed to it! he had said, when i expressed my concern) but still. so anyway, sure enough, soon every turtle in the pond was dancing and nibbling. i discovered the rain on the surface of the water to be a more interesting point of ovservation. i forget about everything else, feeling beauty miracles of creation-sky water meets water of the earth in a connection of sound and image, bubbles spring up like diamonds and then pop! disappear, each drop of rain creating moving circles, so alive was the great pattern of movement! i thought about how i´ve been realizing that ´the language in which the sun speaks to the earth´that i had previously written about wanting to understand, is love! lovelovelove...i want to understand more of this existence, the world which is not visible to the eye. this is my intention for tonight.

..to be continued. sorry.