Many of my most intense, crisis events are due to my own mistakes; usually concerning money. Today I had an easy morning. All I had to do was pack, walk across the street (sometime around 11:00am) and get on the bus to Barranquilla – a two hour trip. It got a little complicated.

First, I asked when the bus will leave, how much it cost, etc and bought my ticket. I had about 45 minutes to wait. After about 15 minutes all the passengers got up to pile onto the bus to Cartagena. I asked the cashier if this was the bus to Barranquilla. Barranquilla is on the road to Cartagena. She said ‘Yes’. It was. Accordingly, I hurried out with my bags, stowed one in the back, and climbed on. After a couple of hours we entered the busy city of Barranquilla. At this point I noticed that one of my bags was missing. In the hurry, I had left it on the seat in the waiting room. ‘Oh no!’ It was a smaller bag, but it contained minor objects such as some recharging cables, my lunch, a spare battery and (more serious) my Kindle. As I was contemplating this minor disaster I noticed that we were in fact traveling OUT of the city. I was missing a bag AND headed for the wrong city!

At this point my studying of Spanish suddenly became very important. I had to explain the whole situation to the driver including my claim that it was not my fault. I told him politely the we had 2 problems (note the ‘we’ in that statement.) I was holding a ticket saying – Barranquilla! Was there an office of the bus company in the city where I would be able to get help? Could they find my bag where I had left it, and could they send it to me? Most important, could they let me off the bus and how could return to Barranquilla since we were on a highway heading out of town?

The driver turned out to be surprisingly helpful. I described the bag, he phoned the office, they sent back a photo of my bag. (He did all of this while driving down the highway.) He asked my something that sounded like a small machine gun in action. What? He said it again. I quietly asked if he could speak more slowly. He laughed and said (in Spanish of course.)  ‘What is the address of your hotel?’ There was then some talk of payment if the bag were to show up at my hotel at 5 pm. I promptly doubled his amount to something approaching $20.

The result was: he turned the bus around and took me to some taxis. I got in the taxi and had a chat with a young man who told me about the great things one can do around Barranquilla; the trip soon ended at my hotel. At 4:50, there was a knock on my door and there was a man with a motorcycle helmet and …My Bag! I paid up happily.

This visit to Bogota has been different from my first, two years ago, when I arrived with a case of Covid and spent 3 days in bed.

This time I spent a pleasant two days with Walter, a visitor from Boston of an age similar to mine. We ambled around the city, stopping frequently, chatting about everything imaginable. We share a penchant for relaxing travel without the pressure of a specific goal; instead we just appreciate the people, sights and sounds of a diverse and complex city.

On the following day I was by myself so I had much more contact with the locals. I just talk to people. Often they try to speak English in roughly the same way I try to speak Spanish. It’s a lot of fun – you just commuicate about something, but nothing in particular.

It occurred to me that language exchange is a potent way of remaining in the present moment. If you have no agenda you don’t dwell much on past or future. If you do talk about past or future it still requires an immediate focus, because we are using a different language. This clarifies why the act of travel sometimes feels like ‘waking up’. One must dwell in the present moment. There is a feeling of excitement coupled with a feeling of anxiety.

November 20 2023

Traveling solo gives a constant stream of ups and downs, so if my account seems overly rosy its because I’ve decided to write about the former rather than the latter.

Teaching the young adults in the small town was very rewarding. I put myself out there, traveling every day on the bus, and teaching English to whoever showed up. The attendance was wildly variable. It gave me so much insight into their world and the hopes and challenges they are facing every day. In the Bhagavad Gita it is stressed that in life you have the right to act and take responsibility for your actions, but you have no automatic right for particular fruits of your actions. This applies SO much to teaching. As Marc Anthony said of Caesar (according to the Bard) ‘The evil that men do lives after them, yet the good is oft interred with their bones.’ I find I’m OK with that.

I went to the beach for a week of sun and waves. It was so hot…lots of young bodies partying, sun-tanning, volleyball and surfing. The food was delicious, especially the freshly caught fish. We took a boat ride on the river to watch the pelicans nesting in the mangroves and a radiant sunset over the ocean. So peaceful.

I met a dizzying array of wonderful new friends from a wide variety of countries. There are so many ways to kiss the earth.

Back in Antigua, I love to visit the tomb of Hermano Pedro. Just standing by it brings a deep feeling of peace as of a vast spaciousness beyond any rational thought. There were a few people praying. I closed my eyes and sat for awhile just sinking into the feeling. After some time I thought I should leave and make more space for others so I opened my eyes. All around me were small Guatemalan women praying before the tomb. They were in front of me and beside me, very close. And yet I had not heard or felt anything of their arrival. They all wore the traditional colourful garments of the local indigenous people. They had arrived with such respect, so quietly and with such humility. No matter that their ideas about the religion and the tomb might be different from mine; its not important. What was important was how we were all in the same place for the same experience, silent and still. With great care and attention, I made my exit.

Tomorrow, if all goes well, I will be in Bogota.

My arrival was memorable due to the lack of anyone meeting me at the airport when my flight arrived, on time, at 10 pm. Luckily 3 things were in my favour. 

1. I have been here three times before

2. I had already Guatemala money in my wallet

3. I speak the language at a reasonably functional level.

I got a taxi which took over 2 hours to reach Antigua. It usually takes less than one hour. This was on account of protesters who have been blocking the roads. My driver took me half way up a mountain in the dark. It was a lengthy Spanish lesson. Then there was nowhere to stay, but I went to a hostel i had visited before, where they recognized me and gave me a bed.

That’s been the pattern of my whole month here – i encounter difficulties, struggle to overcome them, and get through to the other side. By about week 2 i was feeling a bit down; the dog at my homestay bit me, the weather kept on raining, I had tremendous trouble trying to see how i could get a replacement credit card and my ankle has been hurting when i walk. So that was plenty of opportunities for whining and bewailing my outcast state.

Gradually, things have come together. The weather improved greatly, my daughter is looking after my credit card issues, and I have been resting my ankle. Traveling alone tends to give rise to a roller-coaster of emotions. Every day I would take a bus (brightly coloured renovated ex-American school bus) up the hillside to a small town. I was teaching a group of local teens who wanted to learn English, but don’t have the money to pay for lessons. We met in a quite basic local restaurant with a beautiful view. There always seemed to be different people coming, but after a couple of weeks it settled down to the same 4 or 5.It felt very rewarding. At the same time I was having daily Spanish lessons, so all my interactions with local people have become much better.

The month is now over and i feel a very strong sense of accomplishment. The school printed 2 certificates for me, one for studying spanish and the other for volunteering. I have had them laminated. My Spanish is now recognized as ‘High Intermediate’. Its a big improvement but I am definitely not at the Fluency level.

Hermano Pedro.  This morning I went back to the Iglesia de San Francisco, so named for the franciscan monks. Maybe i’ve told you about the tomb of Hermano Pedro. Today was a busy Sunday for the church. I walked through the flower garden and down some stairs to the tomb. It’s in an alcove to the side of the main church. There are plenty of pews with knee rests where people kneel quietly in order to pray to the Saint. I just stopped and stood there looking at the massive stone and wood structure which houses the earthly remains of hermano Pedro. He died in !667 and people have been coming there in a constant stream since that time. I just stood there and closed my eyes. It felt as if i had passed into a huge vastness, My personal thoughts and concerns had disappeared. It was a feeling of endless peace, cessation of worries, complete acceptance. It also felt quite ordinary; as if everything unreal had simply faded away and what remains was all that is. This didn’t take much time and felt quite normal yet inexpressibly profound. I don’t care if people are Catholic, Protestant, Muslim, Jewish or atheist. The truth is the same for all of us, no matter what notions we might entertain in our complicated minds.

I wish I understood how this site is organized. What does that mean: ‘Choose a block’? Sounds like something for playing with a toddler. They are very good at trying to sell me more options, but not very good at making it user friendly. Anyway here is my entry for October 22 2023.

I have been drawn to Antigua; perhaps for a purpose? Last year I visited 7 countries in America Latina, but this year it will probably be fewer. There’s a feeling of changing my role from tourist to something else, but what?

Hermano Pedro was also drawn to Antigua. In the middle of the 17th century it was called by the somewhat pretentious name of ‘Santiago de los Caballeros de Guatemala’. Hermano Pedro came from Tenerife as a young man with nothing. During his short life (he died at age 41) he helped poor people with education and medical care even though he never formally became a priest or a monk. People still come from all over Central America to pray at his tomb. After 350 years of this the Catholic church finally decided that he was a saint. The tomb and the hospital remain important to the people of Antigua. In addition to the impressive church of San Francisco there are also extensive ruins, beautiful gardens, a museum and an active monastery. It is a valuable destination for tourism too.

Why is all of this so important to me? I am drawn there more than anywhere else in Antigua. There is a deep well of peace to be experienced that transcends the outward impact of the place. It reminds me of ancient temples I have visited in India where worshippers still gather.

There is a ‘Peace that passes understanding’ that some fortunate people have experienced on this earth. We struggle with the ups and downs of life: money, work, love, transportation, family and everything that happens in a day. On a deeper level, we also struggle with what happens between our ears: our hopes and fears, our passions, our memories, all the complex feelings that flow within us. Its interesting to go deeper and try to get a sense of the one who experiences all of this. those who have traveled this inner journey, whether by long discipline or by a flash of inspiration, tend to agree that it cannot be described by the conscious mind.

Maybe there IS no individual experiencer, but rather an illusion of separateness. Maybe there is one indivisible knower which can only know itself through an individual but not AS an individual. This would explain the mystery of love. Deep within ourselves we glimpse a sense of our oneness with everything that is ‘other’.

Here’s a glimpse: I sat on an ancient mountainside above a temple in South India. For an instant all around me and all my feelings and memories seemed a dream. From the centre of my being came a sense of light and laughter exploding outwards as if awakening from the dream. One still, dark night I stood on a rooftop gazing at the stars. For a moment I felt love of the space, as if the stars were unreal….only existing i th

October 15, 2023.

After around 10 hours of travel I arrived in Guatemala without incident, customs officers welcoming as usual and protesters cheering at the sight of tourists

Someone was supposed to meet my flight which was exactly on time. Unfortunately no one showed up. So after 45 minutes of standing around I got in a cab. Cabs are great for practicing Spanish. We drove for about two hours in the dark (on a one hour trip) avoiding protesters who were blocking the roads. Got to Antigua after midnight hammering on hostal doors to get a bed for the night.

I’m very tired, but at least it’s over and tomorrow a new life begins.

Maximo Nivel, later in the day

There were a couple of disappointments today. I like what the program is doing with volunteers; they stress the importance of assessing the local conditions with repect and trying to understand what is motivating the people. Today I took a test for my level in Spanish, which of course came out as Intermediate; however the real test will come tomorrow when I meet the kids. I had hoped to be working with adults. The second disappointment was that my room in the homestay is very small with a tiny spiral staircase for access. On top of that the lights keep going out. This could be the result of the demonstrations, or could be becausee of the thunderstorm and torrential rain going on outside. Anyway, enough complaining.

This year I am so far from my usual hedonistic approach to tourism. I’ve put myself here with the ambition to do something useful, instead of just prioritizing my own benefit and amusement. There are voices within me that constantly ask, ‘What’s in it for me?’ Then there are other voices which tell me to think more of the needs of others. It’s fine to have a grand idea about how we’re all one and we should care for one another. In fact when a person in front of me is confronting a real trauma I really do want to help them. I do take joy in helping others to feel better. Nevertheless it remains a struggle. I’m confident about one morning at a public school in a small Guatemala town, but can I do it every day for a month?

Hopefully this journal will continue to record the journey as it unfolds.

There’s something uplifting about a view of mountains. My bike ride only takes me about 15 or 20 minute to this peaceful spot. Ahead is the expanse of Addington Marsh with the hills of Minnekhada park rising to the left. I get off the streets onto the gravel path on a dyke beside the Pitt River (it’s off to the right) and suddenly all this unfolds in before me. Sometimes there’s a bear or two, or deer, probably some geese, an eagle overhead… Mother nature is consistently inconsistent with her blessings. It’s great to see the photo, but cannot compare with the actual experience of being there. How often we are immersed in our own thoughts – the inner reality – and miss the wonder around us.

THE QUESTION

Another day in paradise…. or perhaps we are in hell. It depends on the state of mind. We do live in our minds, do we not? My present challenge is to live according to the highest teachings I know; its my intention, to be sure. There is intent and there is will.

So what is my intention? Yes of course I would prefer to live a long and satisfying life, free from the vaious ills that beset us so often in declining years. But, as Socrates observed, one should define one’s terms. What does ‘satisfying’ mean? It involves happiness, but is not limited to happiness. I have had the feeling of satisfaction in moments of athletic achievement, enjoyment of the beauty of nature on a sunny day, sharing of laughter with friends, time spent with children and grandchildren. I have found joy in coming across new and foreign places, learning with awe about the echoes of the past, connecting across the walls of misunderstanding by improving my knowledge of a foreign language. These have all been very satisfying. The problem is that the joy is fleeting… can be experienced in a moment, then soon passes away. All mountains give way to valleys, day becomes night and the breath once drawn in must be exhaled. No matter how much we get, we still yearn for more. Something within me has intimations of something that can be recognized but not adequately described. How is this experience to be integrated in the context of – Peace of Mind?

THE TEACHING

There is a peace which passes understanding. All the major traditions such as Buddhism, Christianity, Islam, Sufism, Taoism, Hinduism, mysticism, shamanism and even modern self-help gurus emarge from a deep experience that cannot be adequately communicated in words. Music, dance, painting and other art forms can point to it; however, they are like reading about a delicious banquet without ever actually eating the food.

Having studied quite widely about the teachings that come from these traditions I have sought to identify practices that appear to enjoy wide approval in pursuing what appears to be….the path (the pathless path – camino sin sendero – the way that cannot be spoken – The God whose name can not be known).

HELPFUL ADVICE

1. Follow guidelines of behaviour that do not harm others.

Benevolence in intention is key. Generosity instead of greed.

Kindness instead of cruelty

Calm instead of anger.

Understanding instead of judgement.

Hope instead of fear

2) Create and maintain a daily practice

Self discipline can be developed

Some foods are better than others

Live a life with order and regularity

Meditate (or pray) as much as is practical

Pay attention – all the time – to what you are doing

Observation of the breath helps with all of the above

3) Develop an attitude of awe, gratitude and even worship

Towards the natural world

Towards all living creatures

Towards everyone you know.

4) Seek and appreciate those individuals who shine like a beacon, pointing the way

They include many (but not all) religious leaders.

Surround yourself with kindred spirits, no matter where they come from.

Pursue activities that enhance the above

Avoid associating with those whose behaviour you do not wish to emulate.

Do not waste your time criticizing others.

Be gentle with yourself…. like the Prodigal Son you will tend to stray

SO WHAT?

All of the above should be considered as a blueprint of intentions. Taken together they comprise a series of sign posts that can be kept in mind.

A Higher Teaching

This seems right to me: that there is a deeper reality than what we normally perceive as reality, that something within us strives to develop as the green plants reach towards the Sun, that each of us needs to integrate the challenges of our lives as best we can, that in an seemingly hostile world we are not alone. That there is a way for all of us, but what it is … only you can find it.

THE WILL

It’s good to have an intention, but good intentions do not necessarily pave the way to heaven. We do posess will power. It is totally needed to succeed in heeding all those good intentions. No one else can do it for us. In fact, many forces will conspire to throw us. What I can do is to try, try again… every day… and not become discouraged. It may be helpful to write a reprt every day in the evening in order to record progress. Bring back the thought police! I can be my own confessor. Good luck.

Everyday produces bright blue sky, blazing sunshine and cool in the evening. One could almost believe Guatemala to be the best place on Earth. I took an Uber (my first ever) a few kilometres out of town up a steep hill to a restaurant called Cerro de San Cristobal. They have lush vegetable gardens and incredible views across the valley.

Met a missionary from Michigan. He came down for a week on a missionary tour complete with pens, paper and other supplies for a school for poor families. Of course they’re also teaching them Bible stories and how to be saved. He was very enthusiastic and sincere. They’re also going to the massive garbage dump where many families live for generations. It’s  a pity people don’t do these things without the religious fantasy, but they don’t do they? I feel that Guatemala people already have a beautiful dream with all their cathedrals and saints and festivals. To me the blessed virgin and Hermano Pedro look like they’re doing very well in providing a supportive story and missionaries would do better to buy into the existing local dream instead of undermining it with a new one which creates divisions.

It’s my feeling that Guatemala needs all the help it can get. Antigua, the living museum with all its mute reminders of ancient glory thrown down in a single day by the convulsions of the planet, cannot maintain the luxury of ignoring the transitory realities of living. We all live on the edge of a precipice, but in beautiful Antigua you can see it every day.  Volcan de Fuego puffs smoke regularly and its impossible to forget how the land rests on a sea of molten lava.

San Marcos has, in my opinion, an undeserved reputation as a haven for hippies. On arrival from the dock the traveler enters a long passageway with lots of cafes, souvenir sellers, holistic healing centres and trippy multicoloured murals. All of this gives way as you stroll past all the distractions, to a very pretty typical Guatemalan/Maya town centre a little further up the slope.

I’m staying in a hostel with a dock (for swimming) a nice restaurant, sauna and yoga studio. My first night here featured loud, electronic, spacey music which attracted dancers in diaphanous, flowing dresses with weird face paintings and other unusual attire. They seemed to have in common a rather stylized dancing with rhythmic gyrations and swaying of the arms. There was a tribal feeling about it as if they had some kind of invisible inner connection.  It was captivating in a way, but more strange than attractive.

I had a chat with Charles Bentley from Tennessee about Hegel, Plato, Aristotle and others. Charles had studied these  at grad school so he carried most of the conversation. He told me had done some LSD and I’m not sure whether the effect served to improve the coherence of his arguments or not. Later some friends of his produced some potent weed, which was very pleasant but resulted in an early bed for me.

On the following day I entered a natural park area which had trails to some reputed Maya altars with awesome vistas. I went swimming off the rocks; very warm, clean water, and no one about except a couple of fisherman.

San Pedro is just across the water, about 15 minutes in the shuttle boat.  I went across to get a recharging cable for my Kindle – vital equipment. Drank some delicious fresh orange juice, sat in a lovely empty Catholic church for a while and, later, listened to a very noisy evangelical rock band.

A young man from Thunder Bay, name of Jay, explained for me a little about San Marcos and the hippies. He’s been there for about three years and has a Mayan wife. Jay reckons that most of the spiritual offering are produced by teachers who don’t really know much, but are cashing in on the demand. There is a powerful energy about the place which attracts a certain kind of aspirant. Young people are looking for something.  They want to explore their own inner potential, discover some fundamental truths. or at least extend their journey into some exciting new territory.  Unfortunately, there may not be much here in the way of truly knowledgeable teachers or traditions containing the necessary discipline. Nevertheless, lots of interesting people.  As Jay remarked – trust your intuition. The profusion of fancy outfits reminded me that appearance does not give any reliable clues regarding spiritual development of an individual.