This post was written by Darcy in the early morning of Thursday, Sept. 20th, 2012 and finally posted now.
The bus stopped about an hour ago, I think anyways. I was sleeping on and off. It’s 5:22am. The bus was due in at Santa Cruz de la Sierra at 5:30am. It feels like we are still in the middle of nowhere. We were traveling along a very rough dirt road with huge holes and bumps; we bottomed out at least a couple times. This road is certainly not meant for a bus this large. It’s been pitch dark outside but the sky is brightening now. Jonathan went to check things out and there was no one in the drivers seat so we figure the driver needed some sleep. I guess I’d rather he sleep with the bus stopped than while driving along this crazy road. Jonathan says this reminds him a lot of India. It’s hot and humid up on this upper level of the double decker sleeper bus. One of the babies, the 3-month-old, just woke up crying. People are starting to stir. I haven ‘t slept that well what with the back-to-back violent war movies being played on the TVs with loud audio for all, including the babies, to hear . That, along with the frequent security checks, one by a man in camouflage carrying a big gun, had me quite unsettled. Now Julianna, the 5-month-old baby in the seat in front of us is up. She’s so sweet. Well, here we go. Jonathan is just reporting now that it may have been a traffic jam! Weird! So this is the surrender and letting go of traveling. Trusting our bags are still under us; trusting the armed guy getting on the bus in the middle of nowhere means no harm; trusting we’ll eventually get to our destination even if quite a bit later than scheduled.
**A follow-up to that written now** It turns out there was a truck on the road that had a flat tire that needed repairing. This blocked the road from all other cars and buses to get by. Perhaps they needed to wait until it was light out to fix it. We arrived in Santa Cruz at 9:30am -4 hours later than scheduled. It was amazing to me to observe this delay because I didn’t see one person complain, not even once (except for me). Also, I’ve gotten more used to seeing big guns. Yesterday, there were two police officers standing outside every bank machine door with big rifle-type guns. It’s a bit unsettling at first. There was a march in support of the miners on strike that day, so we figured that’s why there was the extra security.
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The following post was written on Sunday, Sept. 23rd, 2012 and finally posted now!
Greetings All,
It’s Jonathan this time. Darcy is taking a well-earned nap after a relatively grueling 6 days of steady travel. And, although tired myself, I find myself unable to find similar rest which makes it a good time to check in here and share a little of my own experiences and thoughts.
I´ll start with Ilhabela, a beautiful little island off the coast of Brazil near Sao Paulo. I think it´s safe to say that this was the highlight of our Brazilian trip. Not so much for the beauty of the island, which was amazing, but rather for the people with whom we spent our time.
It all came about through the wonders of serendipity. Eleven years ago I met two Brazilians, Illa and Vitor, in southern Ireland. In fact, I was sailing with Vitor on the fateful day of September the 11th, 2001. I fell in love with these two beautiful people and always hoped that our paths would cross again even though I never had any great intentions of traveling to Brazil or to Australia, where they now live.
A small hope arose when Darcy and I decided to come to Brazil for the 20-day Vipassana retreat but it vanished when I learned Vitor and Illa were waiting for their permanent residency in Australia and weren´t able to leave the country until they got it. So they had no plans for a trip to Brazil in the foreseeable future. Then, through some kind of crazy machinations of the universe, they got their residency, and planned a trip to Brazil which would have them on Ilhabela the day after our meditation course ended. We would end up connecting with them on September the 11th on Ilhabela. Amazing!
To make it even better, we were invited to stay at Illa´s beautiful family home. I wish you could all meet Illa´s family….generous, open, affectionate and creative, they welcomed us as part of the family and gifted us with such an intimate experience of Brazil that we didn´t want to leave. Rosanna, Rudolfo and Glenda, thank you so much for everything. Darcy and I hope we can host you sometime in the future or at least come visit you another time. Much love to you.
As for you, Vitor and Illa, no words can describe my gratitude for our friendship nor my respect for your selves. May your lives continue to be full of life´s blessings. I´m confident now that we´ll see you down the path sometime soon. xo
So now, catching us up to today…After a number of days of travel we’ve just arrived in the Bolivian town of Sucre which is technically the official capital city of Bolivia, but in practice the government sits in La Paz. I haven’t figured out what that exactly means, all I know is that there is a movement here to have Sucre reestablished as the working capital.
It’s a beautiful city high in the mountains (though not as high as La Paz) with thinner air and cooler temperatures, and all the qualities of an old Spanish colonial city….big cathedral, central town plaza, white washed colonial buildings, etc… We arrived here this morning after a 12 hour (260 km!) bus ride on a road that would make a typical BC logging road seem like a luxurious 4-lane highway. Surprisingly, and thankfully, Darcy and I were both able to find some sleep on the journey despite the constant jostling, noise, ever-present haze of dust, and even a rock that found its way, either through ricochet or ill-intentioned pedestrian, through a window next to Darcy (gratefully nobody was injured). We´ve since discovered that the miners are on strike here in Bolivia. They work in horrendous conditions for very little pay. One of their tactics while striking is to block the major roads and, should a driver try to run the blockade, he/she can expect a rock through the window, slashed tires or even a stick of dynamite thrown at the vehicle. There are frequent deaths here as a result of this. Needless to say, we´re going to stay put until the roads are open.
It’s been some time since my last traveling experience and its been wonderful to re-enter the mind space of exploring new places and meeting new people. I call this the, “What the @#$#?” mind space as I find I’m in a relatively constant state of confusion or perhaps wonder at just what is going on around me…What did that person say?..Are we going in the right direction?…Did I just say what I think I said?…and on it goes. One thing I love about it is that it shows me very clearly my habitual ways of thinking and behaving and demands that I change them since they don’t really work in whatever new context I find myself. When living back home for an extended period I find that my thoughts and behaviours inevitably find their comfortable – grooves and I’m not often challenged to adapt and think about situations in different ways. Hopefully I’m creating some new brain connections and helping the old grey matter stay fluid.
It’s also so helpful for our meditation practice. Since I’m really the only constant in the equation, the reactions of my mind are more obviously my reactions to my perceptions (which I know are often totally off from what is actually happening). In the light of Vipassana, this ever-changing mind becomes more apparent and attachment to it less energized by the events in the outside world. Wonderful!
I’m so grateful for this experience; so grateful to be sharing it with my wonderful wife (not used to calling Darcy that yet). May you all find opportunities, in your own way, to explore this great mystery, and to grow into greater happiness.
Metta,
Jonathan
To Love What is Lovely and Will Not Last 