The Blue Blanket

I don’t want to be boring and I know that spiders have loomed large in my last two blog posts. But spiders are looming large in my life right now – so I am afraid this is another blog about my eight-legged enemies.

Draped casually and prettily over the wall in my room is a large, blue Guatemalan blanket. The other day I decided to see if I could drape the blanket over the rafters and hopefully block out the view of the behemoth that lives in the rafters just beyond my loft (see previous blog). I couldn’t make it work – but shortly after trying; another behemoth hit the ground running, scaring the living daylights out of me, because spiders are nocturnal! You don’t usually see many in the day and you hardly ever see them moving. Like aliens, "they mostly come at night... mostly". It occurred to me afterwards that my moving of the blanket and the agitated appearance of a spider in the afternoon might be connected. Also, this morning upon waking I saw a four-incher sitting right next to the blanket.

So I have come to be of the opinion that this blanket is probably a dark and secluded, palatial spider residence. And it’s in my self-designated space. So it’s going to have to go.

My friend Judit recently told me a story (which I hope she won’t mind me repeating – as it’s a great story!) A few years ago, she and her husband took over the management of a Dive Shop in the tropics. It had been closed for a few months previously, so when they went to inspect the equipment they found whole families of spiders living in the BCDs (jackets). Their solution was to throw all the gear into the sea and then run away! She said within moments the water was full of black, hairy refugees all frantically learning to swim.

With this in mind, whilst I want the blanket gone, actually picking it up and moving it, is the last thing I want to do! I have thought of picking up one end and dropping it into the kitchen below, where I will not be able to witness the resulting exodus (especially if I am cowering strategically on the floor). But inevitably not all of the inhabitants will go down with their blanket. Some will hang onto the wall, next to which I will be strategically cowering. Not good.

Furthermore the blanket is not far from the door. So if things start running, they might block my exit. I have a balcony that I could potentially throw myself off – but so far I haven’t been able to find the key to unlock the door. Which might actually be a good thing.

What to do?

Oh and I saw my first scorpion last night – four inches away from the light switch which I had just used. So that was a valuable lesson about the dangers of turning on lights. On the bright side: in the garden we have hummingbirds! Hummingbirds! Which, as someone once said, "would be impossible, if they didn’t exist!" I will try to get a picture for you. And so many butterflies! It’s funny, you don’t see many butterflies these days – but here they are plentiful.

Addendum

I forgot to mention the cats! I am not sure how many we have because they are all identical. So, needless to say, they are all equally adorable. I am encouraging them to hang-out up here and be fierce with anything smaller than they are.

Last night a very grown-up spider emerged from the rafters – easily as big as my hand and particularly ugly – but he was crouched just beyond my designated loft space, so I made the decision he could stay! Ha!

I managed to convince myself that he was in his space and I am in mine and he has no reason to invade my loft. Of course this is a ridiculous argument as it presupposes the spider recognises the distinction between my loft and his rafters. It also assumes that he gives a damn. I decided not to look at him. That helped. In my favour, yesterday I did sweep my loft with a verve and ferocity that only those of you who knew me as a small child will be able to imagine. However at bedtime I was forced to fully embrace the fact that, should he choose to do so, he could in my bed in less than 30 seconds. He was almost the size of a small cat!

So it’s not surprising that, when one of the small cats jumped onto my bed just as I was dozing off, I should jump, momentarily leaving my skin, and catapult (or kick? I am not sure) the small cat off the bed and across the room. He/she retreated to the bookcase and sat and glared at me with equal parts bewilderment and hatred.

I said sorry, but you know what cats are like – it could be weeks until I’m forgiven.

And no MG4D, I am not travelling with a mosquito net, but it’s something I think I may need to acquire. Because mosquito nets are impenetrable (I believe they are made of the same fabric as Batman’s cape) to any and all monsters. That’s what I choose to believe anyway, and I don’t want any of you to tell me otherwise.

Please.

Leaving, arriving, old friends & new enemies

I haven’t blogged in ages – there’s been too much to do, too much going on. Which, of course, is a total waste of blog content! When life is dull I have nothing to blog about and when life is a full and rich tapestry, I am too busy!

So I have decided to make up for it now. This is going to be a long post. So long, you might want to read it in instalments. So long that you will almost definitely want a cup of tea before you start. Go on, make one now – don’t worry I’ll wait.

Ready? Good. So I left Mexico on the evening of the 27th and had a very uneventful bus ride down to the border. What is it with Border Guards? Some of the most unpleasant people I have ever encountered have been at border control. The application to be a Border Guard must read as follows:

Question 1: Are you a complete and total bastard, with no sense of integrity, courtesy or respect for your fellow human beings?
If yes, please proceed to Question 2
If no, leave now and never darken our doors again.

The Mexican border guards were charging everyone $20 to leave the country. We had words: me in my poor and broken Spanish, and them in increasingly fast and agitated Spanish.

But is it for? I asked. It is a tax for leaving! They said. But there is no tax for leaving Mexico! Yes, there is! No there isn’t! Show me this in writing! There! Look at the poster on the wall – you see the picture of the visa – there it is! That poster says you need a visa – there is no mention of a tax for leaving. There is a tax! You think I am lying to you? (Very agitated) Senor, maybe my Spanish is so bad I don’t understand you. But what is the $20 for exactly? It is a tax for leaving! (This was going nowhere) But I have no money! Then you can go to the cash machine over there. Ok, I have some dollars, but I will need an official receipt and I would also like you to write both your names, so I can check later. He will give you a receipt. Great, thanks. No, no, he will give you the receipt. But he said you would? (Some fast, very agitated Spanish) Here! Sign this! But this is not a receipt? Just sign this! (The Border Guard had a scrap of paper, on which he had written “No tengo dinero” meaning ‘I have no money’ and he asked me to sign it. I signed. Now go away! He said, and I went.

The Belizean border guard wanted to know why I wasn’t staying in Belize, rather than going straight through to Guatemala. I felt like telling him about my last visit, when I was ripped off by the Belizean Border Guards who demanded a tax for leaving the country.

Soon Belize was behind me and we entered Guatemala and the worst roads I have experienced, since leaving Guatemala 6 years ago. The drive to Flores was like travelling in a cocktail shaker. Finally I arrived, shaken but not stirred, and went looking for food.

A Vegetarian Platter

“What is the vegetarian platter?” I inquired. The waiter looked at me as if I was a complete idiot. “Vegetables” he replied. Obviously.

The following is a fictionalised account of a conversation I feel sure took place, but did not actually witness.

“She wants the vegetarian platter”
“What’s that?”
“What do you mean ‘what’s that’? You’re the bloody cook!”
“Well, what does she eat?”
“Vegetables obviously. She’s a vegetarian”
“No meat?”
“No meat”
“Not even the sausage?”
“No! No meat, vegetables”
“What’s wrong with her?
“Look, have you got any vegetables?”
“Of course I have vegetables! What do you want me to do with them?”
“Cook them!”
“That’s it? Just cooked vegetables?”
“Just cooked vegetables.”
“Are you sure?
“Yes!”
“Ok then”

My vegetarian platter was served with a flourish and a look that said, “Well you ordered it”. It comprised: 1 boiled potato, quartered; 1 boiled carrot (halved); 12 green beans (skewered on cocktail sticks); 1 whole corn on the cob; some unidentifiable squash, quartered; rice and refried beans. It was ok! I like vegetables. But some seasoning would have been good.

Arrival

It’s like Facebook – where, as I have said before – old friends turn up looking like their older and fatter siblings. The first person I saw was Guillermo, the once-cook is now an unlikely Security Guard, at about 4ft high, he’s wearing a gun that’s almost bigger than he is! Looking older and rounder – but just the same. I asked if I could leave my bags somewhere, “leave them anywhere you like” he said, gesturing towards the green space surrounding us “I hear the security here is excellent.” He remembered me and that was nice. I recognised the little girls selling fresh ground cocoa, they were, of course, the baby sisters of the girls I remembered well! Even El Retiro itself is a little older, grander and fatter than it’s former self. So many more Cabañas, and a huge new restaurant, but still kind of the same.

I found the manager, he was expecting me and gave me the keys to Matt’s house, where I will be staying. (Thanks Matt!)

The House of Spiders

I know, I’ve kind of given away the plot in the title. So you know what’s coming. It’s a great house, very atmospheric, the kind of place you would go gaga over if you saw a spread on it in the Sunday Supplement. It’s an ‘outside’ house – where even when you’re inside, you have the illusion of being outside. Unfortunately, the local fauna suffers from the same illusion.

It’s full of wildlife. Last night I stayed in the spider-infested main bedroom. Today I moved into the spider-infested loft: on the basis, that’s it’s even more ‘open’ and outside. If I’m going to have to share my space with the locals I would rather not be locked in with them.

There’s so many cobwebs, great long, thick cobwebs that stretch between the rafters – so I knew what to expect when night fell. I watched a video in the early evening, after 2 hours seated I got up and almost every step meant walking through newly spun cobwebs – the doorway to my room, the space between the kitchen counters – everywhere! On going to bed I spotted the first few monsters – the largest probably 4 inches across (and they do get bigger than that). But what can you do? Sleep in the spider-infested living room instead? I turned the lights out and practiced some calming pranayama.

Here in my new room, in the roof, I have one wall completely open to the elements and another half-open (overlooking the kitchen). The other two walls have open space under the roof. As well as some ominously large spider webs, I have also spotted two wasps nests and an enormous ants nest just outside. I really like ants – and these are big ones, I bet they eat spiders. So it’s good to know I have some allies up here!

The following pictures were taken in the last few minutes, from inside my room.



Before you start feeling sorry for me – here’s the view I will be waking up to every morning!



The hills, the house, the walls are alive! But it’s good to be back! Tonight I will go to the bar and start touting my Yoga classes. First class tomorrow.

Several Seemingly Unconnected Incidents

In December my Dive Computer broke – a bit fell off. Fortunately, it was still under guarantee so I sent it back to the manufacturers to be repaired. I have a spare computer (my old one), which is basic but still works, and I had a spare watch.

My spare watch broke within a week. Some water got inside it and it gave up and died. So I bought a new watch. Knowing I would only need it until my computer came back (my dive computer is also a watch), I didn’t want to spend a lot of money, so I was delighted to find a decent underwater watch for a very reasonable price.

Last month I had to go to Belize for a few days. On the way back I met a girl on the bus who told me her life story (this happens to me more often than you might think! I am someone to whom people tell their life stories. I don’t know why: I like to think I am a good listener; but I think mainly it’s because I’m nosey and ask a lot of questions). Her life story was both fascinating and disturbing, and I may well write a blog about it – but this is not it. She asked about my watch: she wanted to buy an underwater watch but couldn’t find one she could afford. She was very impressed with the price I paid for mine and asked me if I would go back to the shop to see if they had any more. If they did, she said, she would pay the money into my account and I could buy it and post it to her. These days you’re not supposed to give people your account details – even sweet Belizean girls who believe they are, and have been raised as, the reincarnated spirit of their dead Aunt. But we exchanged email addresses and I promised I would go and look.

In the following week she sent me a number of emails asking if I had had time to go to the shop, but I didn’t make it until a week later, only to discover that they had no more. I did intend to email her immediately to let her know – but to be honest, it slipped my mind. In the mean time my Dive Computer came back, shiney and intact, which was great.

The following weekend I attended an Ashtanga Workshop, which the teacher offered as a ‘Karma Class’, because it was his birthday. So the Workshop was free (and fantastic) – and at the end of the class, he reminded us all that we should try to pass on the karma by helping someone or giving something.

So later that afternoon when my Belizean friend contacted me on Messenger it seemed clear what I should do. I explained that I couldn’t buy her the watch, because there were no more, but that if she gave me her postal address I would send her mine as a gift.

She was quite surprised by this! So I explained about the Karma Class, and also that my Dive Computer was now fixed – so in fact, giving her this watch was a small thing.

I haven’t heard from her since.

So what do you think? Does she just not want a second-hand watch? Does she think I’m a weirdo and is reluctant to give me her postal address? Or was she a very credible Identity Fraudster and I have had a lucky escape?!

From the Plague-zone: Bring out your dead!

Mexican newspapers are bloodthirsty. What they really love is a good car crash – some twisted, smoking metal with a bleeding, near-dead victim inside... Super! That will make the front page every time. Dead bodies are pretty good too – especially if there’s some guts. There was a big gang-shooting incident just after Christmas and the local Newspaper had five, executed corpses on the front page the next morning. Great.

I have a friend here who used to work as a Journalist in Mexico City and she told me that after an Earthquake that she covered, the Mexican Authorities had no qualms about inviting Journo’s into the hospital to shoot photos and video at the bedsides of victims. She also tells me she’s been allowed in Prisons and into numerous ‘high risk’ situations.

So this is why it seems very odd to me that after several weeks of being in the epicentre of the Global Flu Pandemic I have yet to see a picture of a victim. Who are these people? What were their names? If we can’t have pictures of them, then why not some of the families they left behind? If they were Mexican be assured they left an extensive family behind! Where are these people?

Playa del Carmen is a tourist town, the area was not very well populated before the tourism was developed so most of people who live here come from elsewhere in the country, and most of them come from Mexico City.

I know of no one, who knows of anyone who has had swine flu. Obviously Mexico City is a big place – but it’s odd that out of over a 1000 (allegedly) victims, all of whom have families, all of who have friends... that no one has met or heard of anyone who has it? Surely some one would know some one whose friend had an Aunt whose cousin’s boyfriend was sick?

I read an article recently, which said that three years ago the US Govt bought 1 billion Swine Flu vaccinations in preparation for the Avian Flu Pandemic. These Vaccines have a shelf life of three years. Gosh, what a spot of luck - how convenient.

So how is the Plague-zone? Well you know those towns in Spagetti Westerns with the tumbleweed drifting down the main street?

Nah! Don’t be silly, it’s not quite like that! But the streets are quiet.

Last week a few people were wearing masks. The staff in the Supermarkets still are, but no one else is bothering any more. Most people think the Pandemic has been fabricated or at least greatly exaggerated. So we’re all pretty relaxed about the health aspects.

The bad news is that most of the tourists have cancelled. The hotel where I work is down to 23% capacity at the moment and I have had 2 customers this week. Very few people get a salary. Like me, most people work for commission – so there’s gonna be some tumbleweed drifting through my next pay packet, I suspect. Two hotels in Cancun have already closed down. There are rumours that other places might too. The future is not bright. The foreign, transient workers, like me, can leave (and many are) - but for the Mexicans with mortgages and children to feed, this is a nightmare. It's not as if we were having a great season anyway - with all the economic woes in Europe and the US.

So if this was some little scheme to sell off all those unwanted vaccines - then I hope that someone in the Mexican Govt will get a new house out of this! Or perhaps the US Aid package to Mexico will be significantly increased this year? I hope that at least some of the 'Pay Off' goes to the Mexican people and not all of it into some Politicians’ pocket.

Mostly though, it's the Press who have created this situation. In a bid to sell a few more Newspapers, 1 case became 'over 100 suspected cases...' and each reported death becomes '200 suspected deaths...' I thought the Media was supposed to report the News, not attempt to create it.

So I hope when the Editors get their fat bonuses, they spare a thought for the people who will end up paying.

Om, Boo, Hula and Other Funny Noises

They tell me that Om is the sound of the Universe. The sound of it's creation and the sound that will be left when all the others noises are gone. Ok, so before any yogis out there start getting all zen-nazi with me [grin] can I just state for the record that my sense of humour can be a little sharp, so if that’s going to bother you – move along! There’s nothing to see here!

I’m not saying that Om is total nonsense – really I’m not! To paraphrase something my teacher read out the other morning – ‘the symbol for OM is important because the four parts represent the four states of being’. The key word here is REPRESENT.

No one suggests that the symbol for ‘Om’ IS the four states of being – that it manifests our reality or exists on some existential level. No, we accept that it’s a symbol and, as such is powerful because it REPRESENTS all these things – and symbols can be powerful – as we know from our Mudras... and the golden arches, the swastika and the swoosh... amongst other things.

On that basis, the sound Om, can be said to REPRESENT the sound of the universe and for this reason maybe it's powerful. It is also powerful for several practical reasons: it can be said that the vibration of the sound resonates and makes a physical impact and we can say that the action of the chant brings oxygen into the system, focuses the mind and regulates the breath in preparation for Ujjiyi breathing. All, important stuff.

However, the universe is at least 15 billion years old. Evidence suggests that before this there was void. After this there was gas and eventually matter. There was no life: nothing to witness these events or to create a memory of this time. Therefore no one: not you or I; not the yogic sages; no religious icons; not even the greatest scientific minds of this, or any, generation can say, with any basis of fact, what sound was made – or indeed if any sound was made – at the creation of the universe.

We can guess, we can suppose, we can, of course, mythologise – but we can’t KNOW. So to state as a fact, with a full stop at the end, that OM is the sound of the Universe, is specious.

That is not to say you can’t believe this! Believing something that has no rational basis, but which feels right on an instinctive level is the foundation of all Religion! So whilst I do not agree with this practice as a rationale for a belief system – I also realise I am in the minority on this point!

But I do think it’s important to be aware of the difference between BELIEF and FACT. And to remain open to the possibility that your own beliefs, if not based in fact, may be completely incorrect. Historically, confusion between this two crucial ‘truths’ – belief and fact – has been the cause of almost every war and every prejudice the world has seen. Currently of course, we have a climate of religious fanaticism – where confusion between belief and fact leads people to hate and even murder those who give credence to a different ‘truth’.

Furthermore, since the zealots of every persuasion tend to be loud and forceful in their opinions, whereas the rationalists tend to be more circumspect, we have reached a point where the free thinkers in our society are being steamrolled by superstition and mythology. This is a Bad Thing! This is bad for everyone!

In the spirit of Ghandi’s invocation that we should “be the change we wish to see in the world” I think it’s important that rational people, the free thinkers, speak out against superstition where it is presented as fact. I believe a rational society will be a civilised society and who knows – maybe if people can be persuaded to give more weight to the laws of nature, physics and geology – and less credence to blind faith and ‘gut feeling’ – then maybe one day we will be able to call ourselves civilised.

So I am afraid, whilst I have absolute respect for all my fellow yogis and yoginis and I do not seek to offend, I will continue to raise a gently scornful eyebrow when you assure me that you know, without any doubt, what sound was made by an explosion 15 billion years ago.

Namaste

Now, Yoga

So, as you know, this month I have been mostly doing Yoga. I can’t believe I am just over a month into my course! I am stronger, fitter and healthier than I have been in a long time. To be honest I was expecting that. I wouldn’t be taking a Yoga Teacher Course if I didn’t already believe that Yoga is incredibly good for you!

So what wasn’t I expecting? I was expecting to learn a lot of new stuff from the vast cauldron of Eastern Philosophy. I was expecting this to be interesting and perhaps even insightful. But to be honest, I wasn’t expecting to actually believe much of it!

However it seems 20 odd years of determined cynicism is being stripped away, to be replaced by... what? I’m not sure yet.

In our first training session our Teacher pointed out something very obvious and crucial: that you must practice what you teach. If you are going to stand up in front of a class and encourage them challenge their body and mind, you have to live by the same rules. “Of course” I thought, “that’s obvious!” (Although, if I’m honest, it wasn’t something that had occurred to me earlier). However, in that spirit I decided to be open to whatever ideas were thrown at me, and to try and live by the principles that I was prescribed.

I am still trying to do that – although it’s not easy and is going to take a lot more time and dedication than I originally supposed. But the Constraints are fair: do not harm yourself or others; do not steal or lie; control your passions and do not be greedy or covetous. You can’t argue with that! The Observances too: purity or cleanliness; honesty; austerity or self-discipline (by far the most challenging for me – but I can’t deny I need some!) and self-study. All good. I am having trouble reconciling what the last Observance – awareness of the Divine – might mean to me as an atheist. But I am assured that Yoga is not a religion – so perhaps human endeavour and our ability to love is my ‘divinity’?

The daily practice of physical yoga as well as meditation and pranayama (breathing control) is also undeniably good for me – although requires more daily discipline than I have managed to summon so far!

So what’s the 'BUT'? Perhaps there isn’t one... except... I am not sure if I fully recognise myself anymore. I am changing.

I was thinking about my Yoga Class and what I think of my fellow students – all good things! But that led me to wonder what they think of me, and how they perceive me... and I realised I have no idea.

I have always had a very clear idea of how I am perceived. Maybe I have been wrong about that! But I always FELT that I knew. I no longer have any idea. I have stopped talking about the experiences that I used to think defined me. It was not deliberate – I’ve just become aware that I have.

You know how you have key information that you give about yourself when you meet someone: you don’t give a life story and complete self-analysis – who would listen! You give key facts, experiences – maybe not consciously – but you are giving the information that you believe will allow people to see you for who you are.

I am always very interested when people start by giving their job title! As if what they do for a living is the cornerstone of who they are. But perhaps for some people is genuinely is. In contrast, I have always enjoyed the fact that my brother refuses to discuss what he does for a living – claiming that even he doesn’t fully understand!

I used to introduce myself with my travels and some experiences (told as ‘amusing’ anecdotes – thereby displaying my sense of humour and communication/storytelling skills). This, I believed, defined me. And having that ‘Past’ was important to me. It was a foundation for who I am. I built that ‘Past’ – strived for it – to become the person I aspired to be.

I don’t do that anymore. Why not? What information do I give instead? I am not sure... perhaps I don’t introduce myself so much. It’s all starting to seem very unimportant: where I have been, what I have done, the adventures – this foundation I have built. It feels like I’ve built a beautiful Conservatory, only to discover that I don’t have a garden.

Am I just finally doing the last 10 years of growing up in this 6 months? What a crazy thought – like Dorian Grey, in a distant town somewhere, someone has cleared their attic and thrown my mental picture into the rubbish! Tomorrow, or someday soon, I will awaken to find I am AN ADULT!

But you have to loose your mind, in order to find it again, and I am told, before you can receive, you need to let go.