Today is both an ending and a beginning. I sent my little sister, Erika, off on Delta flight 414 at 9 this morning, and have spent the remainder of the day resting and readying for the next step in this journey. Tomorrow a.m. I´m catching a TicaBus - Costa Rica´s most popular coach service - to San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua, where I´ll spend Christmas holidays with an English-Colombian kite surfer and a Swedish environmentalist. I met the first at a bus stop a couple of days ago, and the latter on the doorstep of a hostel I was staying at.
Unexpected encounters - opening up and being present to the experience - are one of ¨the greats¨ of nomadic travels. Each day is a river bend; one never knows what quite to expect. Erika and I´ve found ourselves building a bonfire twice our size on the beach in Mal Pais, celebrating at an ex-pat Israeli birthday party in Santa Teresa, grooving with ¨The Boom Booms¨ (a band from Vancouver, BC on tour in Central America in a hand-painted van) at El Coquito, and rushing to get off a rickety old yellow school bus yesterday because the driver thought it had caught fire.
There was a lot of shouting - ¨fuego!¨ - but after an initial assessment our driver said the billowing smoke was only the friction of brakes and would cause us no harm. We were ushered back on to the bus about as quickly as we were commanded to get off; some passengers weren´t convinced and decided to walk instead. Erika and I had a connection to make so we said a prayer and slid back into our seats. I think God-Allah-Buddha - something greater than ourselves - must have been watching out for us because we were flanked by two nuns in black habits on our next bus ride.
Jaime Koss - an artist I met at his studio in Samara - and I talked at great length about giving space and allowing for life to freely unravel. His words for it were: emergent creation, which he explained is like sitting down in front of a white canvas with no expectation, pre-conceived ideas or absolute image of what he will paint. He might have a feeling, one word - like ¨joy¨ - but will not know how he´ll express it until his brush starts moving.
This spontaneous spirit is something we all have the ability to tap into; it may manifest in different ways for each of us, but it shares a similar emanating and creative process. And so, during this holiday season - may you be spiritually guided by spontaneity and be present to the wonders that surround you. Peace and blessings - Elise
23 December 2008
12 December 2008
Pura Vida
Greetings from Costa Rica! I flew into San Jose late Monday night and have been collecting stories ever since - some more poetic than others of course. There is a certain glamor to life on the road, but it wears off quickly when you´re too nauseous to look out the window and busy heaving into a plastic bag. This is what happened to me today returning to the city from Samara beach. I´m not sure what caused my food poisoning, but I´m overjoyed to have a settled stomach tonight.
A runaway coach en route to Samara has been the only other unfortunate incident. I was coming out of the washroom when I saw my driver pulling away. I ran as fast as I could in flip flops while flailing my arms up in the air, only to realize he was just turning the bus around - not actually leaving me behind. Smiling eyes welcomed my beet red face back to seat no. 24.
So, perhaps the moral of the story is to stay off of buses and spend more time on the beach? I´ve had a marvelous time on sandy shores so far. Yesterday morning I took a barefoot skip, trot and hop; I saw a man playing his didgeridoo, two extraordinary jugglers, galloping horses and a long beaked bird who wouldn´t sit still for a photo. In the afternoon I rented a surf board; high tide was at 1:30 so the sets were consistently good. I spent the last 30 minutes just chilling and rolling along over undulating ripples, face resting on my forearms and eyes on the horizon. My shoulders, hamstrings and left cheek are a bit pink but I don´t mind at all.
Tomorrow afternoon will be spent in the company of U.S. diplomats. I interned at the United States Embassy in San Jose a few years ago and still have contacts I´m excited to re-connect with; in the evening my sister and I´ll go downtown for the Festival of Lights. I guess there will be a wild parade, tasty empañadas, lots of glitz and blinking bulbs of course. Stay tuned for more to come - most likely in a week´s time. Be well...
A runaway coach en route to Samara has been the only other unfortunate incident. I was coming out of the washroom when I saw my driver pulling away. I ran as fast as I could in flip flops while flailing my arms up in the air, only to realize he was just turning the bus around - not actually leaving me behind. Smiling eyes welcomed my beet red face back to seat no. 24.
So, perhaps the moral of the story is to stay off of buses and spend more time on the beach? I´ve had a marvelous time on sandy shores so far. Yesterday morning I took a barefoot skip, trot and hop; I saw a man playing his didgeridoo, two extraordinary jugglers, galloping horses and a long beaked bird who wouldn´t sit still for a photo. In the afternoon I rented a surf board; high tide was at 1:30 so the sets were consistently good. I spent the last 30 minutes just chilling and rolling along over undulating ripples, face resting on my forearms and eyes on the horizon. My shoulders, hamstrings and left cheek are a bit pink but I don´t mind at all.
Tomorrow afternoon will be spent in the company of U.S. diplomats. I interned at the United States Embassy in San Jose a few years ago and still have contacts I´m excited to re-connect with; in the evening my sister and I´ll go downtown for the Festival of Lights. I guess there will be a wild parade, tasty empañadas, lots of glitz and blinking bulbs of course. Stay tuned for more to come - most likely in a week´s time. Be well...
12 November 2008
How To Build Global Community
Think of no one as "them"; Don't confuse your comfort with your safety; Talk to strangers; Imagine other cultures through their art, poetry and novels; Listen to music you don't understand; Dance to it; Act locally; Notice the workings of power and privilege in your culture; Question consumption; Know how your lettuce and coffee are grown: wake up and smell the exploitation; Look for fair trade and union labels; Help build economies from the bottom up; Acquire few needs; Learn a second (or third) language; Visit people, places, and cultures - not tourist attractions; Learn people's history; Re-define progress; Know physical & political geography; Play games from other cultures; Watch films with subtitles; Know your heritage; Honor everyone's holidays; Look at the moon and imagine someone else, somewhere else, looking at it too; Read the UN's Universal Declaration of Human Rights; Understand the global economy in terms of people, land and water; Know where your bank banks; Never believe you have a right to anyone else's resources; Refuse to wear corporate logos: defy corporate domination; Question military/corporate connections; Don't confuse money with wealth, or time with money; Have a pen/email pal; Honor indigenous cultures; Judge governance by how well it meets all people's needs; Be skeptical about what you read; Eat adventurous!; Enjoy vegetables, beans and grains in your diet; Choose curiosity over certainty; Know where your water comes from and where your wastes go; Pledge allegiance to the earth: question nationalism; Think South, Central and North - there are many Americans; Assume that many others share your dreams; Know that no one is silent through many are not heard - Work to change this...
By Syracuse Cultural Workers
Think of no one as "them"; Don't confuse your comfort with your safety; Talk to strangers; Imagine other cultures through their art, poetry and novels; Listen to music you don't understand; Dance to it; Act locally; Notice the workings of power and privilege in your culture; Question consumption; Know how your lettuce and coffee are grown: wake up and smell the exploitation; Look for fair trade and union labels; Help build economies from the bottom up; Acquire few needs; Learn a second (or third) language; Visit people, places, and cultures - not tourist attractions; Learn people's history; Re-define progress; Know physical & political geography; Play games from other cultures; Watch films with subtitles; Know your heritage; Honor everyone's holidays; Look at the moon and imagine someone else, somewhere else, looking at it too; Read the UN's Universal Declaration of Human Rights; Understand the global economy in terms of people, land and water; Know where your bank banks; Never believe you have a right to anyone else's resources; Refuse to wear corporate logos: defy corporate domination; Question military/corporate connections; Don't confuse money with wealth, or time with money; Have a pen/email pal; Honor indigenous cultures; Judge governance by how well it meets all people's needs; Be skeptical about what you read; Eat adventurous!; Enjoy vegetables, beans and grains in your diet; Choose curiosity over certainty; Know where your water comes from and where your wastes go; Pledge allegiance to the earth: question nationalism; Think South, Central and North - there are many Americans; Assume that many others share your dreams; Know that no one is silent through many are not heard - Work to change this...
By Syracuse Cultural Workers
30 October 2008
Excerpts from my journal...
October 29th, 2008
A Mosaic
"She is a curious one, always with a question. For the most part she is confident, but she also has days of self-doubt. She longs, sometimes, for two opposites simultaneously - like the stability of a career, location or constant someone, yet the freedom of movement across continents. She loves languages and generating discussion between groups of people - especially across cultures and belief systems. She is a 'Jill' of many trades and probably a master of none. She's an avid outdoorsy type and interested in holistic healing - with food, massage and in building positive affirming relationships. She sometimes feels she objectifies past experiences. Most people seem to want an abbreviated version of a story and there is a tendency to regurgitate. Plus, she sometimes wonders to what extent people in Morrison County will understand. She loves to create and is hoping to further develop her drawing talents. Her number one goal within the next year is to finish writing her book; learning another language is number two. This is my self-portrait in its best sense. It is the essence of who I am as well as who I hope to become. I pray that I have the patience with myself and others to listen, growing compassion in my heart to love, and a joyful spirit of laughter for meaningful living."
October 30th, 2008
Freedom
"'I want to be free' she said. Then he said, 'What do you mean?' She responded with a whisper, 'to run with the wind, bike across a country, or swim across a sea; to follow a heart's spontaneous desire, or a lifelong dream; to communicate with worldly vernacular or through a common medium - like music; to let go of external expectations, and even stronger internal influence; to defy gravity - in its literal and figurative sense; to greet each morning with gratitude and each evening with even greater thankfulness; to readily forgive - others but more importantly oneself; to see beyond the paradigm; to be self-aware and see the bigger picture; to know that each one of us knows a certain something, and that something may be different from someone else, but, that someone else also holds an understanding, from which we could learn a lot. That is to be free...'"
A Mosaic
"She is a curious one, always with a question. For the most part she is confident, but she also has days of self-doubt. She longs, sometimes, for two opposites simultaneously - like the stability of a career, location or constant someone, yet the freedom of movement across continents. She loves languages and generating discussion between groups of people - especially across cultures and belief systems. She is a 'Jill' of many trades and probably a master of none. She's an avid outdoorsy type and interested in holistic healing - with food, massage and in building positive affirming relationships. She sometimes feels she objectifies past experiences. Most people seem to want an abbreviated version of a story and there is a tendency to regurgitate. Plus, she sometimes wonders to what extent people in Morrison County will understand. She loves to create and is hoping to further develop her drawing talents. Her number one goal within the next year is to finish writing her book; learning another language is number two. This is my self-portrait in its best sense. It is the essence of who I am as well as who I hope to become. I pray that I have the patience with myself and others to listen, growing compassion in my heart to love, and a joyful spirit of laughter for meaningful living."
October 30th, 2008
Freedom
"'I want to be free' she said. Then he said, 'What do you mean?' She responded with a whisper, 'to run with the wind, bike across a country, or swim across a sea; to follow a heart's spontaneous desire, or a lifelong dream; to communicate with worldly vernacular or through a common medium - like music; to let go of external expectations, and even stronger internal influence; to defy gravity - in its literal and figurative sense; to greet each morning with gratitude and each evening with even greater thankfulness; to readily forgive - others but more importantly oneself; to see beyond the paradigm; to be self-aware and see the bigger picture; to know that each one of us knows a certain something, and that something may be different from someone else, but, that someone else also holds an understanding, from which we could learn a lot. That is to be free...'"
08 October 2008
A story sent to me by good friend, Robert Skinner
Gorilla Tracking in Bwindi Impenetrable Rainforest
I still cannot believe that I went to Africa without a pair of pants. I did go shopping before I left, but I was distracted by a camping espresso maker, and forgot all about the pants.
I tried buying some at the Owimo markets in Kampala. But it was not a success. As usual, I forgot to try them on before I bought them, and when I got back to the hostel I almost severed a testicle trying to pull them on. They made me look like a giraffe going through an awkward puberty. They were, in a word, ridiculous. The pants bothered me. How does one get rid of a pair of pants? I had no idea what the etiquette was for this sort of thing. It didn't seem right to throw them away, especially in a place like Africa, where so many people are in desperate need of pants. But they were ludicrous pants and no-one wanted them. I could think of nothing else to do with them, so in the middle of the night, I snuck outside in the cover of darkness, hung them on the clothesline and checked out of the hostel.
After 14 hours on a bus, I reached Bwindi impenetrable rainforest. I was here to track mountain gorillas. This would be, I thought, the highlightof my trip. Possibly even my life. But on the morning of the big day, the people at the hostel told me that there was no way, absolutely no way in hell, that I would be allowed to track wearing shorts.
Frantically, I ran back into my room and went hunting through my bag. There was only one alternative. I don't even remember packing them - I certainly had no use for them - but there they were, wrapped around my beloved espresso maker to protect it during transit. I would have to wear my thermal underwear.
I couldn't believe it. This one grand moment of my life. This intertwining of dreams and ambition. The event that would forever mark my passage through time. And I was going to do it in my underwear.
There was nothing for it. I struck out for the border of the national park. Villagers everywhere stopped what they were doing and stared. I'm not sure what the Rwukiga translation is for: "I think that man is wearing only his underwear"...but the tone is unmistakable.
At the national park the rangers looked me over. "Why is this Muzungu not wearing any pants?" I tried to look proud and defiant, but it is a hard thing to do when you are talking to grown men in your underwear. "These are state of the art trekking trousers" I said indignantly. They laughed a deep African chuckle. "Where are you from?" they asked. "Australia." "Aaah" they said, "We understand."
I still cannot believe that I went to Africa without a pair of pants. I did go shopping before I left, but I was distracted by a camping espresso maker, and forgot all about the pants.
I tried buying some at the Owimo markets in Kampala. But it was not a success. As usual, I forgot to try them on before I bought them, and when I got back to the hostel I almost severed a testicle trying to pull them on. They made me look like a giraffe going through an awkward puberty. They were, in a word, ridiculous. The pants bothered me. How does one get rid of a pair of pants? I had no idea what the etiquette was for this sort of thing. It didn't seem right to throw them away, especially in a place like Africa, where so many people are in desperate need of pants. But they were ludicrous pants and no-one wanted them. I could think of nothing else to do with them, so in the middle of the night, I snuck outside in the cover of darkness, hung them on the clothesline and checked out of the hostel.
After 14 hours on a bus, I reached Bwindi impenetrable rainforest. I was here to track mountain gorillas. This would be, I thought, the highlightof my trip. Possibly even my life. But on the morning of the big day, the people at the hostel told me that there was no way, absolutely no way in hell, that I would be allowed to track wearing shorts.
Frantically, I ran back into my room and went hunting through my bag. There was only one alternative. I don't even remember packing them - I certainly had no use for them - but there they were, wrapped around my beloved espresso maker to protect it during transit. I would have to wear my thermal underwear.
I couldn't believe it. This one grand moment of my life. This intertwining of dreams and ambition. The event that would forever mark my passage through time. And I was going to do it in my underwear.
There was nothing for it. I struck out for the border of the national park. Villagers everywhere stopped what they were doing and stared. I'm not sure what the Rwukiga translation is for: "I think that man is wearing only his underwear"...but the tone is unmistakable.
At the national park the rangers looked me over. "Why is this Muzungu not wearing any pants?" I tried to look proud and defiant, but it is a hard thing to do when you are talking to grown men in your underwear. "These are state of the art trekking trousers" I said indignantly. They laughed a deep African chuckle. "Where are you from?" they asked. "Australia." "Aaah" they said, "We understand."
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