We departed S'alka Wasi early this morning. We are now back at the El Dorado Hotel ... same room, #340. It is 9:00 at night. Everyone is out to dinner. All I wanted was a glass of wine and a bed. I am happily back in my room, showered, feeling partially clean as I’ll wait to wash my hair mañana before our next lesson begins.

New meditation space

Earlier this morning, before we boarded the bus for our return to Cuzco, I was outside the new meditation area at S’alka Wasi writing in this journal, when Jim, the serious waiki, walked up to where I was sitting. He started, in a very serious way, knitted brow, eyes staring out at some imaginary point in front of him, to talk about the great energy he was receiving. As I listened to his personal story, I became aware of how profoundly we are all being touched by this experience - each uniquely, of course, but by a similar thread. The filaments, as Americo calls them, are the same - teaching us love, awareness, gratitude, non-judgment, acceptance, and reverence for all life. What we do with the teaching, where we take it after we leave here, is up to us.

Dowwwnnn to the river

After breakfast it was time to leave. I had forgotten how steep the trail was between S’alka Wasi and the village of Mollamarqa above us, easily a 500 foot climb requiring four stops and lots of heavy breathing. Two little girls from the village effortlessly and cheerfully held my hand as we made the trek up. An interesting note after I puffed my way to the top of the hill, to the awaiting buss and a throng of village people. I could sense they all thought we were complete woose’s. Someone asked a few men, in their early 20’s, how long it would take to hike up to the pyramid shaped peak above Mollamarqa, at least another 1500 - 2000 feet higher by my guess. The answer came with a certain wicked laugh - one hour, they said with absolute sincerity. One hour. I just shook my head, as I peered up to the top of the peak. If I could make it, and I doubted that seriously, it would take me all day - and I would be a dead woman when I reached the summit. These people climb up and down, up and down, from the beginning of their life until they die. They don’t know the meaning of flat terrain. Everywhere one looks there are peaks and valleys, mostly giant, towering peaks. Entire villages are carved into the sides of the mountains here, with narrow roads that ask for your breath and trust when passing another vehicle, often by mere inches. These people travel these treacherous roads without a second thought. A few of them, as evidenced by the stone or wooden crosses we saw on the side of the road, didn’t make it, but thousands do - every day.

Just before I boarded the bus, I took one last look around me. The smiling children made a final attempt to lighten our load of one more sole. The men heaved up, through the window, the last of our luggage ... with a smile. And the women, their gurgling babies clinging to their backs, smiled, too. One held a baby lamb in her arms, asking for me to take a picture. I had a better idea.

After leaving S’alka Wasi, we headed back to Cuzco. On the way, stopped for lunch in the town of Mollena, a small village on the river where Americo lives some of the time. A centuries old adobe villa, Americo was in the process of restoring it. I seem to be getting that Americo has several homes, each a meeting place for waiki’s around the world who want what he has and don’t know they already have it.

There are many gateways here in Mollena, each more beautiful than the next.

His caretakers, Felicitas and her husband, Viktor, were there to greet us at the entrance, another ... gateway

Before lunch Americo talked about this place and the energy of the stones down by the river. We were asked to walk out to the river, in silence, with the intent of finding two stones. No other information was given, like what kind of stone, what it would look like. That was intended, I am sure. Although there were millions of stones everywhere I looked leading up to the river, I decided to walk right to the water’s edge for my stones. I admit to feeling a bit awkward with these things when I don’t know what I am doing, but that is precisely the idea. I get what I get. This kind of process is just like life. We keep wanting and waiting for Spirit to produce a mile-wide billboard saying, "go this way" before we make a move. We seem to want Divine energy to jolt us with a million watt cattle probe and knock us on our ass before we get it. I didn’t trip over the stones I chose nor did they speak to me. I didn’t get shocked when I picked them up nor did any mystical images come to mind. They were interestingly marked, almost like petroglyphs and smooth to the touch.

Content, I started to walk back to the house, stopping to take some nice photographs of the area.

We all met on the grassy area outside Americo’s house, our stones carefully held in our hands or displayed on the ground in front of us. Americo came out to join the circle with a bag of his personal stones. Through Marilyn’s interpretation, we learned about how important stones are to Americo, how he has searched all over the world for the "perfect" stones. He talked about the healing power of stones. Someone handed them their stone and he examined it carefully. In about 50,000 years this will be ready, he said. Another stone was offered and he said it was close, but not yet. You can feel when they are ready, when they have lived enough, when they have endured enough. At that, he reached inside his bag and brought out one stone for each of us as a gift. Heads nodded in agreement as they each held their stone. These certainly felt different everyone said. Finally Americo handed me my stone gift. It was in the shape of a heart and felt as if I had known it forever when I held it in my hands. All of the stones Americo gave us were different, but all were black and smooth as polished steel.

After lunch, I trotted outside with my camera to take a few more photographs. It was so peaceful here, feeling like home again. I realized I could live here ... easily live here.

<< Back to October 9th

Return to index

On to October 11th >>