Embodied Spirituality through Earth Stewardship

My learning continues. On this spiritual path I am walking, I am realizing how my passions for song, dance, gardening, cooking, eating, yoga, awakened consciousness and general environmental sustainability practices are so integrally connected. 

I've often felt like two of the major interests I have in caring for the earth, and pursuing a spiritual path and practice are quite different from one another. My experiences here in Ecuador at Cancion del Corazon (where 'permaculture for the soul' is practiced) have opened me further to the understanding that being a land steward, is in fact, embodied spirituality. 

Integral Awareness was one of the first topics that Phil broached with the group of interested Permaculture Caravan Canadians here in Ecuador back at the beginning of February. In his passionate way, forgetting all sense of time, Phil spoke of everything being an emanation of consciousness, everything being spirit. He showed us some amazing and inspiring diagrams that settled inside me, making so much sense. He expressed the connection between the Conscious self (i.e. thought) and the Unconscious/Subconscious (i.e. the soul, the belief system). Connection and communication can happen between the conscious and the subconscious soul. Linking into your Superconscious (i.e. essence! spirit, intuition, inner voice, enlightened higher self) needs to happen through your Subconscious self. 

From what I have gathered, learned, realized and experienced, you can connect to your subconscious soul by being with, in, and connected deeply to nature. So, I believe that being in, stewarding, and paying close attention to the natural world can help us realize our Superconscious selves...furthering our spiritual connections with all.

I have trouble putting words to all this, but this is an attempt, thank you for reading. 

In no order, I have a few more thoughts I want to share, that have been shared with me over recent weeks during my time working in the gardens and with foods to nourish our physical selves at Cancion del Corazon.

Everything is spirit, so everything is spirituality.
We (our physical bodies) are temples for divine spirit, we need to care for that divinity (with healthy habits). 
When we are connected with the physical earth, when we have our hands in the soil, and when we understand the life that water grants us each day, we are connected with spirit. 
Earth connection serves as a direct vehicle for our own wellness. 
Stewarding the earth, connecting and healing the earth, are the main ways to walk a spiritual path. Being in nature, for so many people is a direct way to experience a deep state of awareness and meditation. 
Caring for something, or someone, like the earth, or your sweetie, is a heart centered practice. Opening your heart to care for the earth is furthering your opening to a spiritual path.

I'm excited to be planning on returning to Cancion del Corazon to participate in the Yoga Teacher Training that they will be hosting this November. If you are interested in deepening your yoga practice, eating delicious organic garden fresh goodies each day, learning from credible teachers, and engaging in song, meditation and dance in a unique ecological environment, please do get in touch, I'd love for you to be my Sanga (you likely already are)! 

I leave you with the lyrics to a song I learned in the past months....and I leave you with the invitation to steward whatever land you are close to, to experience nature, and the spirit that dwells within.

"We are a circle, within a circle, 
With no beginning, and never ending. 
Brother, sister, take my hand, 
When we join together we will heal the land!"

Mama Killa with other Andean adventures

Cotopaxi Landscape

Adventures continue here in Ecuador. Both in the physicality of this life, and in the spiritual processing of what it is to journey, to see special people flow in and out of your life in meaningful ways...to know what it is to really be by yourself, I mean really be by yourself, and attempt to be comfortable in that discomfort. 

Speaking of discomforts, my digestive system  ain't loving the flora of Ecuador this past couple weeks. Of course I will spare you the details, but on the positive end of things, I will say that my physical body was overjoyed with my recent jungle and waterfall 70km bike ride, that saw me seriously singing in the rain, and my 2 hour long paddle in the headwaters of an Amazonian river, over class 4 rapids. Oh joy, I love the forest, the river. 

And I also love the moon. I've felt that ever since I was of 'adult' womanly age, I feel a pull, a draw, and an utter mysterious fascination with La Luna, the moon. This makes sense really, since every woman's menstrual 'moon' cycles can be intimately tied to the moon. So when I was in Cuenca, and was stopped by a scraggly looking young artist whom wanted to create a piece of jewelry for me, right in front of me, and I submitted, I was excited to hear why he announced how much he loved my name Kayla. He told me that in the north of Ecuador, where he spent some time with Quechua/Kichwa people (a pre-Incan Indigenous group spread out around the Andes mountains of South America), he learned about Mama Killa or Mama Quilla (pronounced the very same way as Kayla!) Mama Killa is Mother Moon. She is the goddess of lunar cycle, of marriage and of the menstrual cycle. She is considered the defender of women. I gratefully accepted the treble-clef shaped wire earring that this street artist from Venezuela made me, giving him a small offering of money, and smiling as I continued to walk on the river path. Not really because I had a beautiful piece of jewelry, but because my identity as 'Kayla' felt affirmed. 

Other meaningful times I've had lately was a night spent out in the brisk-ness of mountain air. I spent a full day wandering, slowly hiking at altitude, and enjoying the insane views of Cotopaxi Volcano - the second highest in Ecuador at 5 897 meters. I camped the night with this giant, which is potentially active, but has not had a big eruption since 1942. It's so high, that even at this, the consistently warm equator, there are glaciers that hang off the side of this mountain, starting at 5 000 meters. I camped a bit lower, preferring to appreciate the majesty and power of this thing, this earth power, this intense giant from around 4200 meters, but still really grateful for a campfire, and 5 layers of clothing! Though the wind was intense, and the landscape quite harsh, I loved the strange beauty of what this park was all about. So oddly beautiful, with its low brushy bushes, single yellow and red flowers, wild horses, llamas, and cows... 

It really is amazing how many new people from such a variety of places that I interact with when I am travelling. Like, the Kichwa woman who sells me a huge barbecued plantain for 50 cents on the street, to my absolute joy. Or the Senor who directs  me by walking  along with me to el Mercado, and then wishes me to be safe and careful on my journeys. Or the Aussies travelling for 8 months on their honeymoon. Or the woman my mother's age from the Netherlands who is a Reiki and Shiatsu healer, whom has no home and lives from her backpack, and who I end up hiking the stunning Quilatoa loop with for 4 days. 

Speaking of said "Quilatoa loop". I think this has been the highlight of my ambling adventures around Ecuador (achem, with Vilcabamba a close rival). An area in the high central Andes, this area is popular for hiking and exploring, while it is home to many rural Kichwa farmers. I walked from the Quilatoa crater, to Chugchilan, to Inislivi and then to Sigchos. In all of these towns, very small (around 2oo people for the first three towns mentioned), I experienced an enormity of Ecuadorian hospitality. This hospitality was a window in to Kichwa life. The family's that had small hostels or posadas, warmly welcomed me, and my older hiking partner, fed us delicious dinners and breakfasts, pointed us in the right directions on the maze that was our journey, and shared with us a bit of what their lives were like in this rural, high Andean mountain countryside. I amazingly received no funny looks when I exclaimed "yo no como carne, y tambien, yo no como pan..." and instead was fed delicious 'bolon de verde', 'huevos omlettes' with generous portions of beet, avacado, lettuce salads, and always always delicious soups (think - cream of cauliflower, the iconic Andean quinoa potato soup, warm and nourishing after a sweaty, but chilly mountain hike in these parts). 

And the hiking was beautiful, challenging and fun. It was definitely a human altered landscape, with patches of light and dark green covering the steep mountainside, with dots of colour visible on these slopes as they hand hoed their vegetables. Usually, my inclination is that I don't find anything that is extremely human altered beautiful, for example I don't often find city scapes beautiful. They may be captivating, and stunning, but beauty I feel is a thing left for the natural, for Pachamama to create. But this, somehow this landscape I found quite beautiful. Partially, I believe it was so beautiful because there were mostly no visible roads, as everyone whose home was on these mountainsides traversed by foot or by horseback. It was beautiful because we meandered up and down gorgeous river valleys, through tiny towns with colourful churches and tiny schools, visible in valleys from high above. We tramped on pathways only farmers take, got confused as to which fork to continue on a hundred times, and nearly got eaten by farm dogs only twice. The sky was mostly overcast, but I still got a sunburn because of the elevation. There were warm wood stoves that waited for us, and hammocks to swing in at the posadas we stayed at. There were many old farmers who we crossed paths with, looking curiously at us, but energetically pointing us in the correct direction...as they continued on their way to hoe their crop, or move their sheep from patch to patch. I could go on...

As I mentioned before, it's amazing how many people you meet while you are travelling. Some are uber interesting, others have a poor sense of respect. Some people enter an open heart quickly, touching me deeply. Others I pass judgement on and others make me miss my sisters, parents, friends. Some couples I meet see me craving consistent companionship - in travel and in life. This woman that I hiked the Quilatoa loop with, was mistaken for my mother more then 3 times. This made me dream of my mother. I reflected (again) that I am spending so much time while I am travelling investing in brand new relationships and encounters, rather then with those that I already have in my life with deep connections. A few insights arise for me with regards to this. The first is that these people I'm encountering while travelling are currently desiring the very same thing as me, while my family and friends don't desire that very same thing - perhaps it's just bad luck or bad timing? Another insight. Every person, whether nice or not so nice, special or a casual small talk conversation, usually results in me learning, or realizing, something about this world or about myself. A third insight. While I meet all these people, I'm still alone. I need to know what it is to be alone so that I can in turn realize the interconnectedness of all people. I live alone, yes, but I need people, community, to thrive. When I meet these people, they are all representations of those I hold near to my heart. Were all the same. all just trying to follow our paths in this life. 

If you haven't already felt it through my last words, I miss you. In an it's okay kind of way, I miss you. 

Quilatoa Volcanic Crater - at the beginning of my Andean trek

Water Water Everywhere

What a precious resource water is. 

We all know this, in theory. But in practice, do we treat water with the respect it deserves? After all...we are mostly water. Honestly, I have taken water for granted so much in my life. Growing up in the Great Lakes Basin, before I began my travels abroad, I took water for Granted.  I was used to seeing freshwater lakes that looked like oceans, accustomed to water magically appearing, clean for the drinking, out of a sparkly metal faucet, and never thought twice about putting my human waste in fresh drinking water flushing it to an unknown place.  

And then, I began to travel. And I learn and see how fresh water is valued or not valued in other countries. How in most places, water does not appear from a tap ready to drink, and often doesn't even appear from a tap. In the place where I am at the moment, Ecuador, water concerns are far more talked about, far more important, and far more controlled by the people. 

I recently stayed for 3 weeks in a valley which at moments is lush green, at other moments dry and de-forested to make room for grazing cows. There is an abundance of naturally flowing rivers, where you can comfortably dunk yourself in the frigid and fresh mountain fed waters, invigorating your every cell.  Because there is less development in the mountains near the Vilcabamba Valley, and the Podocarpus National Park is near by, the headwaters of local rivers are clean - they haven't yet had an opportunity to be tainted by human impacts. 

The people in this valley are hyper aware of their water. This is largely because the water systems that they have running to their homes, is entirely owned by a collective community co-op. This model intrigues me, because all of the members have a strong stake in how their system is designed, how the water is treated (or not treated) and they also assume the responsibility when water lines are broken (as nearly all the lines are above ground and there are also some aerial runs). The water that I was drinking and bathing in while I was at my friends farm in Vilcabamba was a part of this collective system. This system serves both drinking water (filtered by a physical filtration system only, meaning that no chemicals like fluoride or chlorine are added to the water) and agricultural irrigation water (which is more turbid, filled with fine particulate), gets water to about 300 people. Every few months there are community meetings, where members must attend, otherwise are fined. They have one employee who walks the 11km stretch of pipeline, to ensure that it is in fine shape. Often, when it rains heavily, landslides are common, and water lines can get broken. In Ecuador, repairing these line breaks take time. Sometimes, this can mean days, or weeks without water, while the one employee along with other volunteers, hike out to the location of the break, with tools and repair materials in tow, to fix the stretch of pipe that holds life for so many.

I feel like the people on this collective water system are more aware of their life-need for water. More aware about how much they use, because, sometimes for weeks, they have no water but the 1000 liters in their cistern (if they even have a cistern). Otherwise it's a hike to the river and a potential sick stomach. I really believe that (generally-but not for all) there is a disconnect in Canada and the United States. We tend not to have any concept of what it takes to get water clean to us, think nothing of putting all sorts of weird wastes in our water, and further, have no control over what chemicals local governments choose to 'treat' our drinking water with. 

When I'm in travel mode, carrying my trusty UV filter with me, I am so much more mindful of the water I consumer and the way it makes me feel.

Today, when you sip that sip of fresh water, no matter if you are Ecuador, in Canada, in a remote African village, or the Cambodian countryside, take a moment to be grateful for it, and consider ways that you too, can be conscious of the water you use, consume, pollute, play in, and ultimately, are composed of.  

Inspiration, Activation, Evolution.

I'm currently staying at Cancion del Corazon (i.e. Song of the Heart) in Vilcabamba, Ecuador. Over the past two weeks, I've been continually reminded and inspired by the colour and vigor of Pachamama - mother earth. Reminders are also abundant of the integral connection between every being on this planet...


I've been a participant in a "Permaculture Caravan", an experience that I was told would feature educational workshops on bioremediation, hugokulture, permaculture design principles, renewable energy, free energy, seed saving, hands on workshops with natural building techniques, compost and plant guilds and food forest gardening. I was told I'd learn more about living and probiotic foods, get to practice yoga, and get to dance and experiment with music and sound. I was told I'd get to adventure on some hikes out to see some sites where others are practicing permacutlure, and get a view on how people in Ecuador live in collaboration with Pachamama. I got to experience all of this and so so much more. 

This, my friends, was no ordinary permaculture course. Phil and Suzanna, two amazing people, originally from (achem, one of my favourite places ever) the Kootenays of British Columbia, moved to Ecuador almost 4 years ago, to continue their work creating greater consciousness in this world. They practice what they call "Eternaculture: the marriage of permaculture with abiding spiritual awareness". 

Earth harmony with spirit harmony. 

When we started the 14 day course with a Despacho Ceremony, I knew that I had arrived at the right place, and I felt wonderfully comfortable. A Despacho Ceremony is a Quechua traditional ceremony, where we, as a group, created a most beautiful bundle of art. It started as a small mandala of green leaves and red and white petals, with the divine feminine and the divine masculine being represented in these colours. The two guests who facilitated the ceremony slowly added leaves, branches, seeds and other pieces of nature to the spiraling work of art, until it was the turn of each group member, having only all met just hours before, to state our intentions for the weeks ahead. The whole group witnessed each persons intention and addition to the work of art. We offered up our 'Hoocha', our heavy or stagnant energy to the earth below us, to Pachamama to eat, while we willingly received 'Sami' from above, clear light energy... Later, the bundle we created was ceremonially burned in a fire. It really felt like a communication with Pachamama, at the same time as an opportunity to set a tone of deep exploration and discovery among this group of strangers for the two weeks to come.

There is so much I want to share about what this past two weeks has been, but the richness, like the chocolatey avocado mouse we shared mid week, is at moments, indescribably delectable!

I'm still integrating it all. Integrating the group experience of living, and loving people from a variety of backgrounds. Integrating the overwhelming, raw, uncomfortable emotion that arose when I practiced a a Sufi movement meditation, called a Zikir. I'm still integrating the technical information I learned about renewable energy systems, and the fact that my mind was blown when I learned about free energy, and upon having a blown up mind, how I then proceeded to question, once again, the honor-ability of governments, and when I was reminded of the brilliance of our brains, and the potentiality of higher consciousness. I feel more inspired then ever, to build a 'susty shack' with my father (strawbale, off grid, bioremediation for water, composting toilet, gardens surounding, mosaic counter tops, outdoor and indoor kitchen, rocket stove, cob oven, no fridge!). I am still integrating the beautiful and powerful practice of the Unity Dance - a chi-gong-esk movement meditation dedicated to Pachamama in the four sacred directions, borrowed from Indigenous Canadians. I feel invigorated by all the music I've had the opportunity to be submersed in. The Sound Healing journeys with didgeridoo, the Taize, the Kirtan, the beautiful opportunity to bring about the many songs I know, and bring them to the group, and sing my hearts song...It's been incredibly affirming to recognize again, how song really does connect me deeply with spirit. Lectures on Integral Awareness and sacred geometry, have been so meaningfully coupled with on the land exploration, practice and experience. And the food - oh me oh my - we ate so deliciously healthy, wealthy, and tropical! 

Of course, I can't go further without telling you more about the food. 

Unlimited avacados, which not only were salad and soup toppers, but made their way into a delectable chocolate mouse mid - retreat. Each morning, we had lacto-fermented coconut kefir! It's really too bad there is no great source of young coconut water in Canada, as I might just have to give up on my cow-kefir for this tasty beverage. It's lightly efervescent, slightly fermented zingy taste was uber refreshing after my sweaty runs down and up the hills of this valley. Along with coconut kefir, we also had the joy of eating lacto-fermented / raw / dehydrated granola, topped with fresh papaya or banana or pineapple or mango, some of which came from the land in which we were staying. That was further dressed with a dollop of young coconut milk - the sea creature like, juicy meat of the young coconut was blended (in the almighty vita mix) with some water to create a fatty frothy batch of local goodness. These are not local luxuries we enjoy in Ontario. So I was lapping it up and savoring each moment.

Each lunch, each dinner was accompanied by a fresh garden salad, with some delicious mastery of a dressing, and Cosmo flower petals decorating the top. Other favorites were the passion fruit morning juice, and the kimchi and sauerkraut that accompanied lunches and dinners. There were all manners of vegetable-y soups at lunch. Dinners were sometimes delicate complex, and more often warm, hearty and abundant....think flavourful veggie burgers, herb-ey ratatouille, cozy nut loaf, Indian inspired, roasted tubers, the list goes on. Each meal was beautifully punctuated by a circle of us, holding hands, singing a song of thanks before digging in.

The countless conversations with Phil and Suzanna are super special to me now, in reflection.  They share their wisdom in an extremely humble way, they hold space, and create a group container in the most respectable and calm of ways, and they dwell within the greater microcosm that is their community of rural Ecuador with respect and collaboration. 

I can't forget to mention the countless people that Phil and Suzanna introduced us to. Laura, the ecstatic dance facilitator and voice medicine woman (and our resident chef!); Talbot and Lula, the mushroom scientist, humble home builders, and yoga teachers. Circus communities, and mountain dwellers living in intentional communities, adobe and cob infrastructure builders, intricate artisans and animal husbandry experts, sacred sanctuaries where fairy's roam, and fresh water is abundant, magical forests by the rushing freshwater rivers, with unique sculptures guiding your path, folks with smartly designed sustainable water management systems, and many many folks who left North America to live here, in this sacred valley of Ecuador. 

I need to mention that as I write this - under a roof, but fully in the outside air, no walls surrounding me. I feel warm. Hallelujah I feel warm in February! I've said it before and I'll say it again. This concept of indoor/outdoor, it's so different here in this area of the world, and it makes me feel so so alive, because at any moment, I can feel her, I can feel Mama Nature vibrating up through the soil into my legs, I can hear her birds call, I can smell her basil perfume...

Whether it is the vibrant rainbows of red, orange, yellow, green, indigo, blue, violet that blaze across the mountain valley sky on a regular basis, marking the gentle mist just barely visible in the seemingly distant green mountains, or whether it is the sacred corners and highlands of this mountain range that yield an abundance of food, and earth in which inspiring humans build their 'super adobe' earthen homes, and forage their meals too; any opportunity to engage with this earth in a more meaningful way makes me feel more connected, more alive, more free. I hope you find some time today to feel the sun on your face, feel the snow in your hand, or grasp tightly a brilliantly orange carrot...feel the vibration flowing through her, from me, to you.

making a garden bed - hugokultur styles (photo credit Liza Charbel)

Simplicity in Mexico

The Ethnobotanical Gardens in Oaxaca City

Simply simple. Original and oldschool. Less mechanized. Human powered. Back to basics. Do the Mexican's choose simplicity, or is is a matter of need for social/economic or other reasons? I often ask myself this question when I am travelling in countries that are culturally, and economically different then that which I have come to know in Canada. I don't know the answer. 

But I do know that through my street wanderings, and observations, I've realized that Mexicans are admirably simple in the way they do work.  Here are some of the things I've seen.

During  a hike in the cool and moist Sierra Norte mountains of Oaxaca state, quiet hillsides were farmed. With no road access, oxen pulled a simple disc plough back and forth, back and forth, in what felt like the heavens, where clouds settled among the farmers in the silence of the slope. Nearby, small patches of yellow flower topped mustard plants were sprouting skyward, gathering the weak rays of sun and morphing that power into nourishment for humans and animals alike.

Hiking in the Sierra Norte Mountains

A downtown street in Oaxaca city - a place with a population around 260, 000 people. Road work happens, as it does in any city that has car traffic. But, the tools and the people power are entirely different. Here, cobblestone streets have lines of men, spaced about 4 meters apart, hammering on a chisel like implement, to slowly break away the area that they are working on. The cling clang, metal on metal sound reminds me of a scene from 'O brother where art thou' when jailbirds are hammering away at a railroad track, letting their noises be the beat to their song. I can sense that this is difficult work as I walk by. But no worker seems to be in any rush. 

I respect the amount of time Mexican's spend on their ever so important tortillas. I wake most mornings, in my little casa, to the sound of the woman next door, moving her tortilla press back, and forth, pressing balls of her masa into a round tortilla, to be placed on her wood fired comal; a slightly concave calcium coated smooth metal plate - commonly seen  in Mexico set up in a variety of places cooking corn foods to perfection.  

Maybe it's not so much a simple thing, but it is so much a visible and healthful thing, the way that Mexicans freshly grind their chocolate and maize. Even in a city as large as Oaxaca, each neighbourhood has a small mill that residents of the area bring their grain or cocoa beans to, and the mill operator uses a stick to move around the maize of cocoa beans pushing it into a metal auger, which grinds the foods into a pulp, rich and creamy, ready to be made into the chocolate drink or pressed into tortillas. All too often in the western world, our grains and flours are over processed, rancid, and lacking in nutrition. Freshly grinding foods is a solution to this. Further more, it's a visible, decentralized practice. People are in their neighbourhoods, sharing a tool, rather then having big mega corporations process foods in an out of sight, possibly much more energy intensive, mega operation, where care for quality, I would argue, plummets.

And, perhaps because corn is still a novel food staple to me, but I like seeing maize, still in it's brown crispy husk, being dried on rooftops in the Pueblas (the rural areas), around Oaxaca city. Subsistence agriculture is visible. 

Another thing. Though (according to my cooking teacher) pressures are increasing, there are many of Mexican farmers who still farm 'criollo' corn. This is corn that is heirloom - old varieties of corn that have been saved by farmers and replanted, chosen for their deliciousness, quality, and resiliency in their local environments. Somehow, Monsanto hasn't grabbed all of Mexico's corn seeds! In a world where control and centralization is craved by nasty mega corporations, pressure is increasing. I'm very curious to read more about the agriculture of corn in Mexico...

Another awesome thing that I saw, a simple, less mechanized, smart way to do something: A man on the street riding a stationary bicycle which turns the wheel of the rock which sharpens his knife. Smart right? How about bicycle powered, washing machines? Or bicycle blenders? Or bicycle powered batteries for lights in homes? Or or or! 

Seeing double - at Monte Alban - an ancient Zapotec site

I was also lucky to see the simple spirit and colour of the Zapotec people. Mostly, I interacted with some women, in Teotitlan and San Migeul de Valle, two Pueblas outside of Oaxaca City. The woman we interacted with are entrepreneurs, supported by EnVia, a Oaxacan based non-profit. I got to hear their excitement and pride in their burgeoning, or old business: comedors (i.e. restaurants), textile businesses (making beautiful woven rugs), tailors, and clothing shops. These woman wear a three piece beautiful outfit (most noticeable being their beautifully ornate embroidered aprons, that actually look more like intricate dresses, then aprons to get dirty), they braid their long smooth black hair with coloured ribbon, they wear beautiful golden earings, and are all smiles. Though, there was a language barrier in my visits with these women, I asked stumbled Spanish questions, and a translator helped us communicate. Even though I've found it a challenge to communicate deeply with Mexicans because of this language barrier, on the day I visited these woman, there was a special energy in the air, where I felt the barrier was far less, as they seemed egar and proud to share their businesses. 

Simplicity by choice or necessity?

___________________________________________

I finish with a simple, powerful Spanish quote that I read each day while I've been in Oaxaca, that has prompted much internal dialougue. I walked by various colourful murals of street art here. It's an absolutely vibrant artistic community (that I'm sure I only saw the very simplest bit of) and my path home had no shortage of such art works. I felt like every day I was walking through a bright and sunny modern art museum, with colours that jumped at me, and Spanish words that left me vigorously recording words to later use google translate to ensure I had understood them properly. What is listed below was one such quotation, printed below a beautifully intricate and colourful piece of work on the side of someones house. The art depicted a picture of the skeleton of death, and the skeleton of a Zapotec, each reaching out for an anatomically correct heart...

"La vida empieze en donde la realidad termina."

"Life begins where reality ends."

The Oaxaca List; San Pancho too.

I'm sipping Mayan gold as I write this. Bitter, but ridiculously smooth and creamy. A hot chocolate, the Oaxacan way I've now been in Oaxaca City a week and have had some really memorable experiences. I'm loving lists these days, so here is your Oaxacan list of awesomness, in Kayla's opinion:

1. Oaxacan food delicacies. a) Quesillo - long strands of squeaky white cheese, rolled up in a ball and sold in the market, and added a top of all the food here. b) Mole sauce of many varieties which is lovingly poured a top of many creative corny creations - I can't describe this immensely unique and thick sauce with justice, perhaps the mystery will be revealed when I take my week of cooking classes this week! c) Chocolate - mostly grainy and bitter, more true to form of the original cacao beans, and ground in front of you in big metal grinders at one of the many chocolate-only shops in this town. They make a delicate mix of cocoa beans, almonds, cinnamon bark, vanilla and sugar, in quantities that you wish. It's bagged up, or formed into pucks, for later processing in the home into a luscious drink, like the one I sip at this very moment. d) Chapulines - fried crickets! e) Tlayudas - think, Mexico's version of pizza! A big thin, crispy tortilla is smeared with saucy bean mix or mole, and topped with tomatoes, avocado, quesillo, and any manner of meat, if you so wish. Okay, the food list goes on...but I'll get carried away...

2. Heivere del Agua. So glad I had the opportunity to go early in the morning to this marvel of a geological land form. I was warmly welcomed by my friends from Mexico City that a Canadian friend connected me with. The twisty, turney, mountainous drive on typical Mexican roads (i.e. huge potholes and speed bumps galore) was worth the reward. A second breakfast of memolitas at one of the many wood hut food stalls, was followed by a short walk to two green watered, still pools of water where bubbles quietly rose from different areas - making the water appearing to be boiling. Really, the water was really cool and refreshing. The landscape has been shaped by mineral rich waters bubbling out under pressure from the earth below, and calcifying smoothly, creating unique patters,and seemingly frozen waterfalls on the cliff side. A beautiful scene, green, but dry rolling mountains, patches of cultivated Agave fields and cacti erupting from an impossibly dry seeming landscape. We went on a bike to the base of the 'frozen' falls and loved the slow sprinkle of the water  from above, as it landed on our sweaty bodies below. 

3. Mezcal. Holy mole (pun intended) this stuff is prevalent! I have certainly now done my share of tasting this prized alcoholic beverage, but still, can say, that it is not tasty to my palette. Made from the Maguey plant (a form of the more well known Agave plant) it comes in an overwhelming variety of ages, distillation processes, even flavours, with a worm, without a worm, that is consumed straight up - sipped out of shot glasses only rarely accompanied by a lime or orange slice. On our outing to Hievere del Agua, we also visited a rural Mezcal distillation farm like place, where we learned about the rudimentary way that this popular beverage is fermented and distilled. 

4. Counting down to 2015 with a fun group of new friends in Spanish. Diez! Nueve! Ocho! Siete! Seis! Cinco! Cuatro! Tres! Dos! Uno! Feliz Año Nuevo! And then dancing in a funky club until 4:30 am. I lie not. Wicked, dance, party. 

5. The climate here is amazing.  Dry and sunny every day. Cool in the evenings and mornings, and not to hot in the indoors. Never too cool that you need a long sleeve in the day. And! Handwashed clotes dry in a couple hours! Mucho bonito!

6. Then there is the Oaxacan art. Super colourful, borderline tacky, but to me, attractive. Bent tin shaped into crosses and hearts, black hand thrown pottery, uber colourful intricately painted whimsical wooden characters, natural hand dyed and woven rugs,blankets, scarves, tablecloths, embroidered clothes,sold by ever other woman on each street corner, and worn traditionally by some native groups here in Oaxaca state. 

7. Spanish Classes! This is just the beginning. In my efforts to achieve a goal of being fully conversational in French and Spanish in two years time, I'm taking daily classes to get started, and trying at every moment to eavesdrop, and getting braver at practicing!

8. Daily runs up the mountain gives good exercise, a look at some funky street art (generally in abundance in Oaxaca City!) and a great view of the city.

9. Mercados galore. For those of you who know me, you know how much I love a good market. Whether noisy and boisterous, smelly and busy, or small and community based, I love learning about the way people sell, buy, eat and celebrate food. Since being in Mexico, I've already had the opportunity to visit a number of market places, and in Oaxaca, I've found no shortage of these foodie spaces. My favourite so far is the weekly market El Ponchote Xochimilco. Specializing in organic produce and prepared food, its a slower, quieter market, set up in a quaint church courtyard, where fresh 'verde jugo' comes in real glasses, and the tostatdas are vegetarian, flavourful and healthy. There are also some handicraft vendors that sell their jewls, hand made body products and clothing all while a mariba band's sounds waft around in the fresh air...  Then there is Sanchez Pascuas and  20 de Noviembre, nestled right beside one another, they are noisy and busy places, with vendors selling delicious salty/spicy/garlicky peanuts, mole sauces of 7 varieties, Oaxacan style cheese (Quesillo), mezcals, fresh fruit and veg, dried  pantry goods, so many dried hot pepper varieties, chocolate, bread, sweets, clothes, meat and fish too. Then there are the prepared food stalls - where you can pull up a stool and eat tons of food for under 5 Canadian dollars. It's a full on sensory experience and a labyrinth to boot!

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Okay, and by way of backtracking, I hope you all had a good festive season if you celebrate. I was in the lovely little hippy art town of San Pancho, on the Pacific Coast, in Nayarit State, about an hour's bus ride north of the well known Puerto Vallarta. Here is a list of fun things that I did, and that you could do, if you ever visit this tiny town:

1. Play in the waves at the nearby hippie turned yuppie town of Sayulita, or secret Los Muertos Beach. 

2. Get pummeled in the waves at the San Pancho beach. Or play it safe, sip a margarita and watch the sufers live it up instead. 

3. Join the fisher folks and wake early. Run along the quiet sandy stretch of beach. 

4. Visit Entre Amigos in their radical eco-space that functions as a library, community centre, second hand store, artist work space, recycling centre, classroom, gift shop etc! Support their super awesome cultural, environmental and often student run programming.

5. Hang with the artistic folks behind the Colectivo San Pancho - at their free festival that ran for 9 days over the Christmas season and featured awesome local talent

6. Buy tortillas, fresh and hot from the local tortilleria, which spits out 1000's of these hot babies each day. 

7. Join the dance party on the second floor of Refugio del Sol on Christmas eve. 

8. Go for a drink on the rooftop bar at Darjeelings, and you'll be sure to hear some good live Mexican music. 

9. Eat tacos, tacos, and more tacos, at one of the taqerias in town.

10. Buy up deliciousness and beauty at the San Pancho market each Tuesday.

11. People watch the hippies, Mexican tourists, local indigenous artists, and Canadian/American snowbirds.

Fotographia from Queretaro state, Nayarit State, and Oaxaca States!

Believe it or not, this time, I'm travelling without a camera. It feels liberating actually. But the good folks who I have met along the way have sent me a couple photos here and there, and so to you I share!

Peña de Bernal - just outside Queretaro - a friend and I hiked to the top!

Wow, these were spectacularly flavoured little stuffed corn pockets of wonder. Gorditas!

underwater snorkling fun in the Marietas Islands

My Chirstmas date - Tricia - and I exploring the caves of Isles de Maritas

Amazing new buddies from Mexico City - Mariana and Marian, at Hierve del Agua, Oaxaca state

Mezcal anyone? My friends Hermano, Mariana, Kim, Me, and above are Marian and Juan

Swimming in the pools at Hieve del Agua, feeling like I'm at the edge of the world

San Pancho beach - where I spent Christmas

San Pancho art!

Veggie Quesadilla magic at the market in San Pancho

Seeing double at Monte Alban - ancient Zapotec ruins

headstands with ancient civilizations

El Tule, just outside Oaxaca City. This tree is claimed to be the widest tree in the world! Its second only in size to California's general sherman. It is 11m in diameter, 42m high, and about 1500 years old!