Hey all, long time. Writing to see if by chance anyone saved or printed out any of the web blogs that Sean and I wrote. The Jack@$$es at Blue Host screwed up the backup and we lost half of our blogs. :o(
So, just checkin. If you did. Shoot an email.
Daniela set us up in an awesome beach front condo for $1600 Reals per week. Worked out to about $35 a night per person. A bit pricey in backpacker terms but a steal for beachfront property. Kitchen and all. Walked right out our front door to the beach. The below is the trail out of our condo and then looking right down Praia do Ingleses. The beach Daniela set us up on.
It seems all the women have torn off the left and right butt cheek of their bikinis to create makeshift pasties for their norther regions. I don’t think its called staring if you are a tourist. More, curiosity. As I’ve explained to Daniela (our friend and guide), it would be rude not to appreciate the local fashions…right? Fashion is a large part of a countries culture you know. Its rude not to admire it, as I see it.
Understandable that people are almost naked here. Its hot…I mean a new kind of hot. The temp reaches around 41 C. Beach patterns are much different than SoCal. Beach from 1000 to 1200. Siesta from 1200 to 1500. Lunch around 1530. Then beach until 2000. Clean up, head to dinner and eat around 2300 to 0100. This is family included. Kids of all ages are out at 0100 eating family style dinners.
When I say family style…lets just say all the spirituality and inner peace I gained (along with my new physique) was lost with Churrasco style buffets. Endless amounts of “Suacey Seans”. That’t how you pronounce sausage in Portuguese, suaceysean. And, they all had delicious ”fat pockets” inside them.
The beaches were beautiful. Florianopolis is an Island. With a center like Guatemala/Western Kansas/Ozarks of Missouri. Quite the combo. And the coast like a vast Hawaii with over 90 beaches. Some requiring an hour hike and others requiring a battle with mass amounts of traffic.
All in all, a beautiful break from our travel break. Sean and I were able to kick our feet up, relax from the rigors of meditation and backpacking. And just have a ”tre legal” time. Portuguese for “triple cool”. Pronounced “tray luh-gal”. If you add in a PB surfer accent and a “bra” at the end, quite effective. “Tre legal bra”. That and a thumbs up, and all is good in Flori. Sean seemed to master it much quicker than I. I kept doing the fiver finger wave and was frowned at with looks of confusion.
Oh yeah, for the ladies…if you want to lay out, tan yourselves in barely nothing and not be gawked at except for the random American tourist (like myself) AND shop at the same time. Florianopolis is the place for you. Guys bring around clothes racks…to your beach chair. You don’t even have to go anywhere.
Enough beach time for now…Sean and I have booked a 15 hour bus ride from Florianopolis to Foz do Iguazu. The Brazilian town associated with Iguazu falls. On the western border of Brazil. Bordering Argentina, and Paraguay. Our first overnighter…Tre Legal Bras!
That would be ”Happy New Year” in Portuguese for all you Gringo Northies. Sean and I are down in de ”Ghettobootyfabuland of America”. Garapoba, Brazil. Pronounced Ghetto Poppa.
Just a question to ponder. Have you ever wondered why we’re the only people that call ourselves ”Americans” while those from Canada, Central and South America don’t? Why not ”Staties” or ”Unites”. Just a thought.
We arrived into Florianopolis around 0900 on the 29th. Flying from San Jose, Costa Rica to Lima, Peru to Sau Paulo, Brazil. Customs was an ease and they didn’t even check our $110 Visa. Required only because the US Government started charging Brazilians. So Brazil now charges Americans. Beautiful. Nor did they look to see if we had our required Vaccinations that cost me $300.
The Dan’s (Dan and Daniela Greenamyre from Leavonworth, KS) were there waiting for us when we arrived. Packing our items into their luxury rental (a Fiat Celebration, two door) we headed off to our beach house in Garopaba. About 90 KM from Florianopolis. Daniela’s friends were throwing there annual NYE celebration. Having about 30 out of 80 total stay in a four house just off the beach. Best way to describe it for those who know…a mixture between Spring Break in Colorado and 4th of July in San Diego. Blissful Chaos. Everyone is piled in four houses. One house for single girls, one house for single boys, and two houses for couples. Each house having its own Churrasco BBQ pit.
Churrasco is a Southern Brazil style BBQ. They call it BBQ but its really grilling. Over and open fire pit. The difference is, they grill A LOT. Far more than my Weber could ever imagine. With only rock salt, long spears, and fire. On occasion I saw some cilantro thrown on there. Talk about a transition. A month of being a vegetarian and a week of fasting immediately to eating grilled chicken hearts, pork, cow, leg, arm, you name it, we ate it.
Dan, knowing I love to grill and am a self proclaimed grill master (youngest black belt EVER), told the guys we were staying with I’d love to help. The drunker they got the more loose they got with their pit. Finally giving me the reins. Eager to take over I started checking the meat for firmness…calculating hot spots in the fire…reminiscing to days gone by where I wasn’t allowed to touch a spatula. That being a trade reserved for adults, not minors, as my father told me.
Using all my apprenticed skills I noticed a weak spot in the system. A drooping corner of the grate. Providing the possibility of a cataclysmic meat dismount into the flame below. So, I reached to adjust…in my haste and rookie state my hand stumbled a bit under the wait of three roasts…the latter side of the grate gave way, sliding out of its concrete hole and the entire front end fell into the flame. As if fearing the, ”I told you so” I quickly looked around. To my humiliation the eyes of the Brazilian Masters locked onto mine…the music seemed to stop…as they ran over to assist me in my blunder. Pulling the grate up and saving the 30 lbs of meat resting on top of it. For that I was reduced to ping pong, eating, and the occasional sarcastic joke that Americans didn’t know how to BBQ. So, I apologize to my fellow countrymen. For the moment, I have let you all down.
In the next few days I managed to regain a little composure with the guys. They allowed me to chop some garlic and wash lettuce…actually, they didn’t let me near the kitchen again. So, I was forced into beach time and drinking Skol. The Brazilian beer of choice. A duty I was happy to accept.
New Years Eve was fantastic. Parties start late around here. Again they BBQ’d with dinner being served around 2230. The main dish was all pork. A custom here. Again, I dined happily. When in Rome…also, the ladies made a fruit plate that would rival any resort buffet line.
Dinner was finished around 2345. Following we rushed to the beach for fireworks, champagne, music, and…and…drinking. Sorry, a little hazy. My liver is a bit pure after San Marcos. Doesn’t handle the champagnuh so well. The entire city seemed to gather on the beach. It seemed to be a throwback in time to Pacific Beach. I could imagine similar happenings there in the 50s. As we partied on two acres of grass (someone’s front yard) adjacent to the beach. Sean, Dan, and I spent most of our time immediately around midnight avoiding champagne corks and champagne. As most people were spraying it on each other. Rookies…don’t they know champagne is for drinking. Its fine to throw the bottle at your buddy when you’re done with it, but, never waste the booze. Tisk Tisk.
The following day was filled with siesta. In fact…I think the entire day was dedicated to it. Followed by another late night dinner, Sushi at midnight. They love eating late around here. I think its the siesta.
The following morning we headed back to Florianopolis…where we started. Little did we know our 100 KM trek was going to take us 8 hours!! That’s right. It took us 8 hours to go 62 miles. Worst traffic in the UNIVERSE! You know that one bad thing that happens in the Universe everyday…like the formation of a black-hole, or a supernova, or a meteor hitting an inhabited planet. Well, it just so happened that driving from Garopaba to Florianopolis was the worst thing going on in the Universe on January 2, 2008. Go figure we happened to witness it. WOW! Nuff Said!!
On the Road Again…Leaving San Marcos Sean and I first head back to Antigua. This time we picked up a few travel buddies. Ben and Hanneka. An Australian couple we met during our time at Las Piramides. We spent the night in Antigua enjoying some liters of Sol and catching a movie at Cafe 2000, Crash.
The following day we headed off to Guatemala City, catching a flight to San Jose, Costa Rica. By chance Ben and Hanneka were on the same flight. As they headed further to Peru and us to Brazil.
Now, at first…I thought I had bought two seats on a prop-plane. The flight being a short distance. When I went to expedia.com it only showed 6 seats to select. So, I picked 1D and 1F for Sean and I. Paying $210 a person for a 1.5 hour one way flight. Seemed reasonable to US prices since it was a short notice purchase and the day after Xmas. Prime price gouging time. But, when Ben and Hanneka said they were sitting in row 4…a row I never saw an option for…I new something was fishy. I had purchased Sean and I two first class tickets. Talk about living the life. First rate travel to Costa Rica, nice. All you could drink, salmon salad, and some lemon cheese cake. Not to mention…all the leg room you wanted. Nothing like manifesting comfort.
As for our arrival in Costa Rica…not much I can say. The best part was the plane ride. We arrived in San Jose around 3 pm. A large city, supposedly listed as one of the most dangerous in the world. Having a group of four, as Ben and Hanneka were still with us, may have detered the thieves. As we walked through the streets with no problem. Just the random local stating he had a rough day and would like some change. Oh, and passing the transvestite district. Or else Costa Rica just has very manly looking women. But, I highly doubt it. We did find the Central Avenue. Sitting down to a nice meal. Preceded by one of the worst beers ever invented. ”Rock Ice”. Presented to us as ”the beer that goes good with salt and lime”. But, it actually already had the salt and lime in the drink. Through artificial flavoring. It was truly like the bitter beer face commercials.
The following day was more of the same. Returning to Central Avenue, grabbing a Quizno’s sub, and then heading to the airport. Goodbye to our Aussie friends. Looking forward to your future trip to the states and mine to the land down-under. Stay in touch and good luck with the rest of your travels.
Our flight left at 3:30 pm, 14 hours and we’ll be in Brazil…with the Dan’s. Brazilian cut bikinis and all the Carne you can eat. Talk about a transition from San Marcos, Guatemala. I think I’m ready for it.
And Then They Spoke…Silence, is over. Sean and I finished our silence on Christmas Eve. The Full Moon Ceremony is indescribable. Something that truly must be experienced to be understood. The energy was amazing. There were 38 people in the Temple. 8 on the outside representing the 4 cardinal points (north, east…) and 4 representing the elements. Inside that were 21 of the 26 Moonies, then the rest of the Moonies who chose to do the Sun Course inside our circle. Inside them (closest to the central pyramid) were the 4 who were being baptised into the Spiritual life. The ceremony took about two hours, consisting of oming, channeling, and meditation. Indescribable…
Afterwards we celebrated with hugs, congrats, happy holiday wishes and with a traditional Guatemalan/Central American meal, Tamales. And wine of course. After fasting for five days a glass of wine will really treat you right. But, what was really amazing was that my stomach could take two Tamales. I swore I would never be able to eat again. Forced to a life of juices and soups. Thank my lucky stars because I so enjoy chewing my food, rather than drinking it through a straw.
Another point of debate. Technically, ”fasting” is only water. I can see a point in there. But, to an oversized American like myself…five days of OJ in the morning and bean soup in the afternoon…(and when I say bean soup I mean bean water heated up. There were no beans in the soup)…that’s fasting to me.
Here are a few pictures of our spiritual teachers. Chaty is in the left picture, in the center, wearing all white. With long hair. You can also see the plate of Tamales on the table, mmmmmmm. The photo on the right is of Marcus and I. Marcus has been at Las Piramides for 14 years. Great guy from Britain, tough Yoga instructor.
What’s another challenge for the stomach after 5 days of fasting? How about an all you can eat buffet. Even in San Marcos, its possible to find one. About eight of us went on Xmas morning (with the gift of speech restored) indulging in all you could eat fruit, granola, eggs, Tamales, bread, pesto sauce, olives, salsa picante, etc. A feast of feasts. Especially when your stomach is the size of a hard-boiled egg. Waiting to be restored to its proper glutinous size. Four plates did the trick.
That was from 0800 to 1000, just breakfast. Everyone at the Las Piramides chipped in for Xmas dinner. Making something from the food they had remaining. Sean and I contributed plates and organic chocolate. Much needed items and easy. I don’t know to many veggie recipes off the top of my head, so I was limited. I offered to find a Weber and cook up a Turkey, but, the idea was slightly frowned at by most of the classmates. Especially since Sean and I were pretty much the only meat eaters. None the less, the meal was fantastic without Carne or Pollo. Perfect just the way it was. Never new veggies could have such different tastes.
The following day Sean and I packed up and headed out. Admittedly, I was a bit choked up. And unexpectedly. Las Piramides was a wonderful experience. Life has never really seemed so simple and complex at the same time. I truly feel rejuvenated, connected, and reaffirmed that we are all gifts to each other. What a ride.
To all,
Sean and I will be going into a week of Silence and Fasting tomorrow. To mimic the old oral teachings of the Tree of Life where one year of silence was required. This will enable us to go deeper within ourselves. Dissolving the external. Allowing our energy to be focused on meditation rather than digestion. We’ll be focusing our minds in the four elements. Spending time at the Lake (for water), in the Medicinal Garden (earth), our Pyramid with incense (air), and the Temple (fire). So, if you are wondering where we are when we don’t answer emails or don’t call. No worries…I’m just sitting in a Pyramid in Guatemala staring at Sean. Looking at him staring at me. Wondering why we’re in a Pyramid in Guatemala, not talking, and hungry. Just makes sense, right!? Feliz Navidad!!
Well, I thought I would write you from my dreams. Sean caught a glimpse of my Astral Body…down by the lake while he was taking sunrise photos. My physical body still back in the pyramid catching some Zzzzzzs. I’m with you all in spirit. That gentle tap, tap, taping on your third eye isn’t ol’ Saint Nick. Its just Jolly Trevor. Just sayin Hello and Happy Holidays.
Buenos Tardes.
Long time no post, I know. Sean and I have been doing some internal traveling with our fellow ”Moonies” in San Marcos. We have decided to stay for the entire Moon course at Las Piramides. It will finish on December 25th. So, we’ll be able to spend Xmas with our new friends. I’ve heard there will be a pot luck dinner with the teachers and the students. There will also be a little gift exchange.
Oh, Moonies is what the locals call us. Since we are attending the Full Moon Course. We celebrated the half way point on Saturday, the 8th. Patrick, a retired teacher from Montreal, organized dinner and salsa dancing in celebration of the New Moon at a restaurant called ”The Sacred Hill”. It was also in conjunction with a local tradition. Where the locals burned the items they didn’t need and shot off ”heaps” of fireworks. As I didn’t know how to salsa and missed the previous night’s lesson (due to hunger)…I just reverted to old faithful…the booty grind. Admittedly not easy for the ladies to follow. More of just a one man show.
”The Sacred Hill” was located where its name implies. On top of a hill overlooking San Pedro and San Marcos. Being there was no Moon the stars were of course amaaaaaaaazing. And, it was easy to see all the little villages shooting off fireworks around the lake. Also, it was BYOB…as in bring your own booze. Thanks to our fraternity days we were well prepared. Actually making a 4 hour journey the day before for Chilean wine and Finlandia Vodka. Exactly. As you can see, the ladies can’t resist a Spaniard (that’s what Sean is continuously mistaken for) with vodka…
I’ll be the first one to admit. My tolerance for booze has dropped dramatically. Give 27 Moonies the opportunity to drink after two weeks of yoga, meditation, and health food and well…you have a true New Moon Party. One girl was actually spun through the deck, flying through the bamboo railing and landing on the only cactus I’ve seen in Guatemala. Being that pain is only mental, so we’re being taught, she was back up salsaing in no time. Guess her name ”Raven” had no tie to her actual flying abilities. As it looked like she landed pretty hard. Here’s a pic of her after the fall…and then a picture of me laughing hysterically with Ben. I mean, anytime you’re in a stuper and someone flies off a deck breaking a railing…you can’t help but bust up laughing. After you realize everyone is all right of course.
Besides eating, dancing, and people flying off decks there was some ”poing”. Or just poi perhaps. My previous perception was that it was just swinging a bunch of lights around in an attempt to make yourself dizzy. But, I guess it is actually a practiced art form with intricate movements. Our friend Caela, or ”Kay Kay” as we’ve named her, showed us the ropes of poi.
…to me, Happy Birthday to me, HAPPY BIRTHDAY deeeeearrrrrr Trevor, Happppppy Birthhhhhhday to me.
Well, a new decade. And, what a way to kick it off. I had the fortune of a birthday bash in Guatemala. Sean and I are currently back in San Marcos. Returning to attend the Lunar Course at the Las Piramides Meditation Clinic (more on this later). There are around 27 students and 23 showed up for my birthday dinner. It was truly remarkable. Hugs, birthday cards, gifts…
Talk about a Saturn Period transition. Entering your thirties while living in a Pyramid and attending 4.5 hours of Yoga and Meditation a day. What an exciting way to enter a new phase of life.
Cool thing, I think…In one of our classes this week we learned about Mantra Meditation. Chanting the word ”Om”. Now, imagine 27 people in harmony, while inside a Pyramid Temple, chanting…sweet, I know. Now, guess who got the honorary ”best om award”. That’s right, yours truly. Sean actually had to try and block me out over 27 other people for fear of immediate ascension to the fourth dimension, or perhaps for fear of busting out in laughter. Picture me smiling with pure joy while oming. Truly fantastic.
So, at my birthday dinner…instead of singing ”Happy Birthday” we ”om’d” at the dinner table. Again, face filled with joy I blew the socks off my fellow classmates with a deep, bellowing, ”ooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmm”.
Not to mention all the amazing ‘’signs” I’ve been seeing. Lorencia, from Montreal, was kind enough in her birthday card to explain a vision I had. During a guided meditation I approached a chest, opening it I found and endless amount of skeletal remains. Apparently this is a symbol for discovering the higher self. I also saw a dice with the five side up…signifying great change had just passed or a break through in the ego. The first day of class there were 22 people. 22 cards in the tarot. I sat in seat 1, the Magician. The Magician symbolizing again great change…the seer of all. Also, according to the Mayan Calendar this next year is my Dragon Year. Still more to discover. Week two deals with Dreams and Astral Traveling. Perhaps I’ll visit all of you in your sleep, tapping gently on your third eye.
Just thought I would share a wee bit of my birthday joys. Thank you to my parents. Love you both.
Wishing you all well.
On the 21st Sean and I left the hustle and bustle of the city life behind us, heading to a quieter frontier near Lake Atitlan. West of Antigua through the mountains. Again, our transport wasn’t without its hiccups.
We had purchased tickets the evening before. Well, I did. Seeing I couldn’t go mountain biking with Sean for fear of ripping my stitches. So, I organized or travel for 0800 the following morning. At 0830 we began to question the authenticity of our ticket. Through broken Spanish/English we managed to find the head office. I ran there as Sean stayed behind in case they arrived. As I arrived the minivan was full, I showed him the our ticket, he sighed, gestured for me to enter the van, and we were off. As we started driving through town I began to wonder if he knew about Sean. I don’t think he did, so, all I could do was continuously yell, ”Mi Amigo, Mi Amigo, Umma Gumma”. It worked, flipping around and picking him up. In addition we piled in two more people, fitting a total of 16 persons in a Toyota minivan.
The drive wasn’t peaceful either. Sean had the unfortune of sitting in the front middle seat, knees jammed in the dashboard for three hours. So, I thought I lucked out. Having my own individual seat, the only uncomfort…a backpack resting on my leg and foot. Wouldn’t be though. The older lady in front of me got sick through the mountain pass as we careened down hillsides at 50 KMH over the speed limit. As we indicated she was getting sick you would assume a stop would be in order. Nope, the driver just pulled out an old plastic bag from under the seat. Turning around as he drove to hand it to her. As she vomited in the bag it was clear there were many holes. Vomit leaking over the floor and filling the air with pungent aroma. I just pressed my nose to the window and tried to relax.
We arrived in Panajachel (Pana Ha Chel) shortly after a photo stop of unexplainable panorama views.
Sean and I quickly headed to the boat launch to remove ourselves even further. Debating between the towns of San Pedro and San Marcos. As San Marcos ended up being the first stop we looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders and hopped off the water taxi.
San Marcos is a small town of around 800. Guestimate, no hard facts. With ”reborn” Mayans (was Christian but now returning to their roots) living in the surrounding hillside. At night, near sunset, you can hear them calling to each other in song, perhaps as they did years ago. Songs peaking all interests. Even though not understood its hard to not just sit back and listen.
The town has one road. The rest being simple walkways leading between each structure. San Marcos today was developed by the start of the Meditation Centre ”Las Piramides”. Being built 17 years ago by a woman/oracle from Guatemala City. Afterwards, the students influenced by their studies started other holistic centers, massage, energy therapy, holistic medicinal courses, etc.
As we were in ”Rome” we took part in the 5 pm meditation session. The full time students were in the fourth week of their four week Lunar Course. Following the Lunar calendar. Starting on the Full Moon and ending on the Full Moon. The students were in a silent retreat, not speaking for 5 days. So, general information about their experiences was impossible to come by.
Sean and I participated in the intuitive course. Entering a Pyramid Temple, designed after the dimensions of the Pyramids of Giza. Also, aligned in the same fashion. The first part of the class being 30 minutes of silent meditation and the latter hour involving the drawing of cards. Not having previous experience was a bit tough. In other words, for the first 30 minutes I had no idea what I was doing. Just trying to breath slowly and clear my mind, although most of it was spent flying through the cosmos or floating down a river on a log…go figure.
The cards related to the Physical, Emotional, Mental, and Spiritual self. Each participant sitting in front of the cards, placing one hand over the heart and focusing on the question. The answer, open to interpretation, lied within the card. Very soothing experience, and something I’ll perhaps have to look deeper into. Oh, the cards I drew are in the gallery. Won’t mean anything to you but, if you’re curious feel free to wonder.
Our stay was short, wanting to bounce to other cities. But, perhaps a place to return to.
Quiet. Clear.
Next stop, San Pedro.