And We Did It Our Way!

So we are writing this blog in my journal while sitting on summit of a small mountain after an easy half hour hike on a tranquil Sunday morning. Although we are probably close to 13,000 ft of altitude, the sun is bright and warm and perfectly compliments the cool air and slight breeze. Our view over one side of the ridge is Chivey, a small mountain town in the department of Araquipa, in south-central Peru and the location where we began our hike. The city itself is beautiful. Dirt streets with a combination of mud or brick homes, thatch roofs, and probably more cows and alpacas than cars on the street. Today is the start of another festival or maybe the end of yesterdays (there are too many to tell) and there is a parade marching around the Plaza de Armas (central park). Although from our distance they are only dots on a picturesque painting, the traditional music radiating from the band is a perfect serenade for our spot of contemplation. On the other side of the ridge we have the beginning of the Colca Canyon, the second largest canyon in Peru. This part of the canyon is considered more the valley as each side of the walls gradually climb through ancient Inca terracing showing off an array of colors from the different fruits, grains, and vegetables growing on each individual level. The plants are contrasted by the 600 year rock walls and irrigation systems (still in use) and the whole thing is like looking through a portal back in time. It is absolutely amazing!

What is more amazing is that in the two hours that we have been here, Brooke and I have been totally alone. Actually this shouldn’t surprise me, as this seems to be the case every where we travel. Whether it is swimming with turtles in the crystal clear waters of the Galapagos, walking down the soft dark sand beaches of El Salvador, or overlooking a stunning lagoon in a volcano in Nicaragua, the description all seems to include the word deserted. It is always just the two of us! For some of the extraordinary spots we find ourselves in I could spend another 10 days meditating on the reason we are alone and still not come up with an answer. For others I have finally realized; no one really travels like the two of us. Chivey is actually one of the largest tourist destinations in Peru yet other than a couple of tourist here and their on the street or at the bus station, we rarely come in contact with them. They all seem to be part of tour groups booked from Araquipa (the second largest city in Peru three hours away), staying in the same hotels, eating at the same restaurants, and patiently waiting their turn in line to step up to the next lookout to take their picture. Don’t get me wrong, the hotels I am sure are nice, bug-free, and warm, the lookout is probably unbelievable, the food, safe and tasty and probably lacking the animal innards we often find on our plates. But while wonderful in its own way, it is just not the real place. Even if the tourist happen to stay with a host family (which is better), the family has seen so many tourist that slight aspects in the way they act and in the amenities that they have, are changed.

We on the other hand we have been incredibly lucky. Through our connections with local Peace Corps volunteers or local CouchSurfers, we have been able to break though these tourist traps and see a slightly different life than your average traveler. Although most locals and other travelers do not understand it, our severe budget (averaging $16 combined per day) has helped us out as well. It keeps us in the markets and on the streets, eating and shopping where the locals eat and shop. Through our projects we live in the small communities we are helping for sometimes more than a month, working, eating, and playing the way they do on a daily basis. We get to know the real people as work side by side and become more than just a dollar sign, we become friends. In Chivey, we were able to link up with PCVs who live in the city and in the surrounding villages. They are the ones that directed us to this unknown little hike we are on now. They are also the ones that took us to a celebration the day before where we watched their communities put on displays of traditional music, dance and food. Not for tourist, but for themselves. The same way they have been doing it for hundreds of years.

Before arriving in the department of Araquipa we were on the coast checking out the famous (and very touristy) Nazca lines. While these hundreds of years old gigantic pictures that are drawn in the sand are a major highlight for average tourist, our highlight was a bit different. After viewing the amazing lines, instead of taking the luxury overnight bus that most travelers take, we started walking down the desert road with our thumbs out. After not too long a trucker stopped for us and twelve hours later we were spending the night 50 km from our destination on a “comfortable” bed of sugar pallets in the back of his trailer saving us more money and giving us a story of the strangest place we have ever slept. The ride was wonderful as we had twelve hours to really get to know Hernandez (our trucker friend), learn about Peruvian food, culture and life on the road. He was able to learn how diverse American is, that Americans are not just what he sees on TV (they still run the Jerry Springer Show here), and feel really good that people find his culture so interesting. In the end we shake hands and both think to ourselves; life is really good.

So while I know not everybody has the time, the resources, or even the luck that we have had on this trip. However, if it is possible to just skip one or two of the lines for the “must see” incredible views or the next amazing church, and just find a way to get off he beaten path to connect with the locals, I guarantee you will walk away thinking the same thing. Man, life is really good.

Ommmmmmmm, Ommmmmm Part 2

So the schedule of our nose hair contemplation started early and never ended. See below

4:30 – 6:30 Meditation (Yes, that is AM! Yes, it is dark and cold and No we are not allowed to sleep!)
6:30 – 8:00 Breakfast and time for contemplation
8:00 – 9:00 Meditation
9:00 – 10:00 Meditation
10:00 – 11:00 Meditation
11:00 – 12:00 Lunch
12:00 – 1:00 Break
1:00 – 2:30 Meditation
2:30 – 3:30 Meditation
3:30 – 5:00 Meditation
5:00 – 6:00 Dinner (Only a piece of fruit and tea)
6:00 – 7:00 Meditation
7:00 – 8:15 Discourse
8:15 – 9:00 Meditation
9:00 – 9:30 Questions
10:00 – 4:00 Sleep

Between 4:00 and 4:30 we would mindfully (everything is mindfully) stumble in and start preparing our 3x3 foot meditation spot. Originally we were given a small piece of foam and our numbered spot in the center and told this is where we were to be for the remainder of the course. The first morning thinking just in case I may need a little extra padding, I brought down some extra socks for cushioning my feet and Brooke brought down a jacket. I guess the others were thinking the same thing except that each one of them seemed to be entering the door carrying one quarter of Bed Bath and Beyond. There were more blankets, pads, special meditation stools, and down pillows than I had ever seen before in my life. We were seriously undersupplied! It was extremely interesting seeing for the next 15 minutes a hall full of people primping, pawing, pushing, punching, their pads and pillows like a 100 OCD cats that just can’t get comfortable on their new beds from Petsmart. And while I thought they were crazy at first, it only took about 10 minutes into our first hour long meditation that I fully understood their anal retentiveness. What started out as a nice comfortable sitting position (I chose the half lotus because it looked cool on a poster) turned into bone crushing pressure and razor sharp knives digging into my legs as every part of my body that put the slightest amount of weight on another part and even the tiniest wrinkle in my cushion, fold in my pants, or lip on my wonderful sock padding began to take its toll. For the next session I came prepared with a blanket and a sleep sack in tow and by the last session both Brooke and I had every piece of clothing we owned packed into some sort of cushion or another. The other meditators, sitting on their Sharper Image, totally ergonomic, triple padded memory foam, high pedestals must have gotten a pretty good laugh as each morning I fit the Comer ten year yard sale into a seamless fold free mega pad.

So while we quickly found out that equipment was important, it also didn’t take us long to realize that location, location, location, plays a crucial role in ones ability to successfully concentrate. When I say location I am referring to the 15 or so people that are in a breaths distance away from you as you visualize that nose hair. As we were unable to speak we only knew these people by the numbered meditation squares they occupied. For example, I was number 14 and throughout my 10 days of silence I mentally referred to number 16 (two squares beside me) as the nose whistler. You can probably guess why. Number 15 (directly to my right) was the toucher, number 11 was the mover, and the unforgettable 17 was Mr. Sniffer breather / hawk a luggier. Brooke (number 26 on the women’s side) was also too familiar with Mr. Sniffer as well as other noteworthy people in the group like the communicator (always trying to make illegal contact with other women outside the meditation hall) and number 21, a man that when he coughed sounded like our Tsa’chala friend trying to shoo the dogs out of the house.

So once you finally get your pad straight and blocked out the noise around you it is time to get down to business. On day four we were told that we were no longer allowed to move at all during our meditation sessions (sorry number 11). This means no adjusting pillows, no waking up legs that are falling asleep, and absolutely no opening your eyes (not even a peak to see if everyone else is in as much pain as you). In this time we were to concentrate solely on the sensations of feelings up and down our body. By observing these pleasant and painful, strong and subtle feelings without showing favoritism to one or the other we were training our brain to not have attachments or aversions to actions or objects in our life. While recognizing the more subtle sensations did get easier over time, in the beginning other than the shooting pain in my back, the crushing pain in my ankle, and the throbbing pain in my knees, this was proving to be pretty difficult. I remember being so happy as I was trying to find sensations on parts of my body and a fly would land on me providing a tickling feeling on one part then another. Occasionally I would be able to follow the fly all the way around my body successfully completing an entire body scan. I am a meditation master! Of course other times, the insect would just fly up my nose and with me not being able to move, it was no help at all.

So with the help of the pain and the occasional fly the sensations were there and now it was just up to my brain to stay focused on them. Easier said than done. What seemed like every few seconds my wild elephant was running rampant. Once it was writing a comedy (at least it seemed pretty funny at the time) screenplay about two junior high kids filming an interview in a high school weight room, back to the nose hair. Other times wondering what good friends are up too, back to the nose hair, and other times how to successfully combine pantyhose, peanutbutter, two bowling balls and a smurf lunch box full of lady bugs . . .damit! back to the nose hair!

Outside the meditation hall the vow of noble silence was also proving difficult. First of all there is nothing noble about the silence of eight guys sharing a bathroom on a vegetarian diet of beans and tea when the bathroom is located right beside your bed. It is also really hard to get by without being able to say from the bathroom “I have run out of toilet paper, can I borrow some of yours” (we all have our personal toilet paper that we also did not know to bring). I actually broke my silence as I tried to move my spot to lean up against a wall which I quickly found out from the teacher was illegal to do. Apparently the balance of the meditation center and possibly the world (judging by how fast the teacher ran over to me) was relying on our exact positioning as we sat and focused on hairy (I named my nose hair). So my first words after three days were “I would like a blackberry” as I tried to explain to the teacher that like the other ten people sitting against walls (muro in Spanish, not a mora which is a blackberry) the wall would really help my back. Apparently my love of fruit did not convince him and I was quickly back to good old square 14.

So while I probably came up with about fifteen pages of blogs to write while I was supposed to be meditating, I probably should cut myself off at four. It really just gets too crude and a little scary by page five. And although most of my writing seems like the 10 days were basically hell on earth, the truth is that it was amazing. Seeing your mind transform from the from the first day to the tenth and being able to focus in and feel energy you never even knew existed was a absolutely incredible. The lessons I learned about impermanence and detachment, not excepting the gifts of anger or hatred from others, or just the ability to calm myself, are lessons that I will hopefully carry with me for the rest of my life. That and knowledge that the half lotus position is not as cool as it looks. So if we didn’t scare everyone off, the webpage for all the free 10 day meditation courses is written below. Check it out. It could change your life.
Now back to the nose hair!

See dhamma.org.