Monday, January 4, 2016

Notes from Peru

View from my high altitude hike in the Cordillera Blanco in Peru ~5000masl


high altitude mountain glacial lakes - Peru
awestruck
Huanchaco, Peru

I recently spent some time in another new country to me: Peru. Newly minted a certified yoga teacher, I left the comforts of my beautiful friends' farm for the traveller's adventure once more. Making my first stop at the west coast of Peru, after 100's of kilometres in the dusty expanse of the desert, where life exists only beside the oases that tiny river valleys provide, life seeming inhospitable even in these narrow spaces where the flash of green has a welcome cooling affect on the otherwise squinting eyes over the bright beige sand dunes... The coastal town of Huanchaco boasts great surfing, amazing food, and a scene of local fishers who paddle out in homemade reed boats. 

The town was dusty; as were the towering dunes at the east end of the town, forcing any growth north an south only along the ocean shore. And I realized a traveler's curse after just a couple hours exploring this beach town...I've been spoiled by other, more beautiful beaches. And in this state of privilege, I've also been able to develop a sense of satisfaction with any place for what it is, appreciating the place for what it does allow, what it does have. And while the grey sand, stray dogs, bigggg waves, and floating plastic didn't call me to come swimming at every moment, I did appreciate the length of the beach which allowed for great runs, hidden spots to practice yoga, and cheery artisans selling their unique jewels. And I was able to process even more of what was happening in my life, cook my own food, and socialize with interesting people. 

Of course, as I anticipated, I was keen for a change of scene after 3 days at the beach, and so headed for the mountains on time for my 29th birthday. 

And mountains they certainly were. 

These were no mini mountains, no Gatineau hills. They happened to be the highest mountains in South America, the tallest towering to 6100 masl. I signed up for a three day program of sorts. So I spent my first day in the Huaraz area for a good chunk of time in a mini van, winding my way slowly over stunning high Andes mountain vistas, painfully sitting in an unchangeable upright seat, over pot hole laden dirt tracks to a small community that has some very interesting and ancient Incan ruins. It was no Machu Picchu, and not being a history buff, I had concern that I would be disappointed with the site, that the word 'boredom' might approach my consciousness. But as our Spanish speaking guide took us about the site of Chavin, I became more and more intrigued about how this ancient culture was connected to Pachamama, how they practice ceremony and ritual. 

As I attempted to comprehend all the (Spanish) information that was directed my way, My mind began to connect the similarities of spirituality that different people practice all over this world. Historically, there were cultures all over this world, a long time ago, all doing similar spiritual practices, around the same times without ever communicating with one another!  (Some folks may position that they were in fact communicating with one bother through the stars, the earth or other spirits). Incas, Chinese, First Nations of Canada, aboriginals of Australia, they all worshiped the constellations, used plants as medicine, whether hallucinogenic to further their exploration of the darkness or for a bruise on one's leg. They had and have special ceremony for gratitude, in fact every moment of life seems to be an offering of gratitude in these cultures, especially indigenous ones. For the Incas, the maize plant, serpent, feline, and condor reigned supreme as figures in their spiritual worship. The First Nations of Canada, the eagle, corn, beans, squash, and turtle characterize many of their traditional stories. Land and environment in these cultures are so important, so intertwined with there lives, there is no separation.

After a day in history, I spent the next two exploring glacial lakes and hiking to heights of 5100 masl. In a way I was still spending days in history, as you can see the track that glaciers take as they slowly retreat, hear the eerie echo of a glacier calving, as nothing in nature ever is unchanging. With my head slightly throbbing, elevation seeming to grab tightly and squeeze, I journeyed to Laguna 69 as well. A high mountain glacial lake, it has unique turquoise colours and beautiful waterfalls pouring down into it from ice above. But it was more so the journey there that was impressive. Moving up slowly, passing by other equally impressive lagunas, we crossed through alpine forests, marched past cascading waterfalls, jumped over sloppy cow paddies, and stripped off our shoes for some seriously icey river crossings. With vanishing waterfalls, hiding mountains and the tallest mountain in Peru as a backdrop, yes, it was the journey that was super special, worthwhile. But then again, isn't that always the way it goes? The journey is truely the most rewarding part of this life....

And journey on friends, I'm now writing from Guatemala, where I'm on the road facilitating another Operation Groudswell program. Once again, I feel affirmation that facilitating the learning and exploring of young adults is a type of work I really do feel is natural and meaningful. And the support that a group can offer is just fantastic, it's one of my favourite things in life. The uniqueness of community connection... in these group travel experiences, it's so wonderful to feel supported, and to see participants supporting one another.

Abrazos y besos, beautiful people...

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