Cuzco

I am sitting on a gray brick step, one of two in front of our hotel, looking out at the boulevard. It is a bit after 8:00 at night. It is dark, of course, but the city lights of Cuzco and the passing vehicles make it light enough for me to write without a flashlight. People are walking by, a few talking together animatedly in Spanish or Quechwa, a native Indian dialect. A woman just now stopped to sell me something. I said, no, gracias, hoping it would send her on her way. All four feet of her persisted, her lively black, shining eyes too irresistible for me. She was selling something "made by my husband" (which I doubted), an intricately hand carved gourd. Twenty soles ($6.60). The wool weavings I turned down. She told me her name was Augusta, thirty years old, born on July 13^th with four children - the oldest was eleven, the youngest, five. "Too many," she said mournfully. Continuing with her personal story, she told me she came almost everyday to Cuzco, by bus, from a nearby town, thirty kilometers away, to sell her crafts, all wrapped up in the omnipresent, colorful serape that she wore tied to her back. Both of us content, she wrapped up her things and, taking that as my clue, I walked away to find another spot to write without being the target of another sales person with a sad story to tell. This time, I think, we both won.

Don Americo ...

My first day with the mysterious shaman I have traveled so far to meet. He is truly a magnificent specimen of a man. Black curly hair, shining, alert dark chocolate eyes, just a tad taller than me ... powerful, with a capital P. Open me to God, I said silently over and over when he boarded the bus, taking we waikis to Tenpo, a sacred Incan mountain place north of Cuzco, the source of water, and hence a power center for the Incans. Terraced temple, grass, towering mountains all around us, a 2/3 moon rising from the east to light our way. He spoke frequently of energy, filaments, polarization, joining forces in our circle ... constant references to Pacha Mama (Mother Earth). Few words, spoken primarily in Spanish, translated by Marilyn.

Upon leaving, we stood, straddling the water source - pure water cascading down a carved stone wall. The instant I placed my legs on either side of this source, I could feel the potent force rise up between my legs, shooting up my spine and out the top of my head like a rocket ... opening me in the most unexpected sensual, sexual way. I felt like that lady in the shampoo commercial who has an orgasm while washing her hair, prompting everyone to look at her yearningly, whispering, "I want what she’s having." Whew! This is going to be some kind of wild ride if this experience is any indication of things to come. And I say YES!

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