Random Snapshots

Sitting on a long cement bench painted orangish pink, the hot, humid sun just beyond the shade of the covered walkway in front of the tienda. Me on one side, a middle-aged Mexican woman in the middle, and a friend of mine on the end. Somehow we manage to chat in Spanish for a good half hour. I'm realizing that I'm getting better at making jokes in Spanish, and spend a lot of time making fun of my friend, exaggerating the things she does, keeping an eye on the women to make sure they are both laughing. Mexican children coming nearer and putting on a show for us, carrying the smallest girl around and dropping her at our feet over and over again and watching her run away giggling.

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Walking across the bridge on the west end of town, passing through a portal, same city, different world. Dark skin everywhere and flat, wide streets. Dropping into a store and no attempt even to slow down the Spanish exchange as if the shopkeeper has never come across gringos who stumble in their words. Walking many blocks, wondering when the road will end, and finally coming across the sleepy barely-used train station at the edge of town.

Exploring deeper along a dirt road that is arched by trees and skirts small ranches. An oasis of shade in the hot sun, feet kicking dirt on the road, damp air fresh in one's nostrils like a long breath of ecstasy. Pairs of Mexican women carrying pails between them. "Permiso por photo?" and a peal of laughter.

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Sitting beside the maestra on a patio on the edge of a sunny garden at our class party, explaining what I've been doing since leaving class, and her breaking into uproarious laughter when I tell her I've been making up practice sentences like "El caminante esta caminando en el camino*." My friend David taking me on a tour of the house that is themed with stone and dark colonial furniture, smiling and saying "I was lucky". Showing me the garden and explaining how before long it will be a jungle of local plants that doesn't need extra water. A few stragglers drinking red wine in the dark, gringos who are now residents, laughing as we share an unspoken sensibility. David smiling and saying, I'll send you the photos I took on our trip.

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Writing on the Matrix message board, arguing about the existence of a multiple observer effect. Having people who read the messages and who feel very stuck contact me asking for sessions. Being very low energy, calling my friend Niko in Vancouver, getting nicely charged up. Contacting Connie and telling her we had just two-pointed her and smiling as after a long delay she types, "I just fell off my chair and am grinning the Buddha grin." Channeling new information and doing good sessions with clients who hadn't had anyone able to help them before. A local client, who had not seemed to change much, stopping me and telling me that she no longer has a depression that she has had for many years and is going to contact her psychiatrist to ask him to reduce her medication.

Finding myself exploring the energy of regret, and with my new shamanic skills and vision feeling that something went deeply wrong very early in my life, not knowing what it was, not knowing how to fully release it. Feeling some entrenched dark energy periodically return from time to time. Wishing that I could step fully into the new space of bliss, totally release whatever was holding the darkness to me, and step out of it all into a new life. Feeling that if this is cleared I will also be able to help my clients better.

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Meeting some friends in a local bar and greeting my library companion Felix, shaking his hand a moment longer as I realize that I now have Mexican friends. Listening to a loud jazz-funk band with a horn section jam out blues grooves. Wandering up the street to a dive and, while looking at one of Felix's paintings on the wall, being invited to join some people from Canada. One of them, a Vin Diesel lookalike, fluent in four languages, telling us that he had grown up as a diplomat's son and engaging us with stories of Czechoslovakia during Soviet rule, Germany during the takedown of the wall, and descriptions of the structure of the Japanese language while the empty Corona bottles begin to cover the table. Taking a deep breath and wondering at the bigness of it all and finding myself wishing I didn't have to go back to Canada.

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Taking a stroll in the dark down to a taco stand where three dark-skinned men are chopping roast pork and beef, watching them gingerly spoon out steaming tacos covered with cilantro, remembering to cover them with lime juice, sitting at a folding table with a Mexican family and chatting in Spanish about why I like Mexico better than Canada and wish I could stay here longer. The demure mother lowering her head saying that she has no culture and her eyes lighting up when I tell her she has mucha cultura. The hermosa daughter in a colorful Spanish blouse smiling shyly and staring deeply and asking many questions about the discussion group in the library. Getting a whiff of summer in the air and being filled with bittersweet regret as I feel the end of my stay here moving closer.

* The walker is walking on the walkway.