insect love in the jungle
Costa Rica has captured my heart, as I suspected it would. Before leaving on this adventure whenever I would say where I was going my shoulders would do this little shimmy and I would get a sly grin on my face. Good signs.
Orosi Valley, Costa Rica
The journey on this land has been both oddly familiar and perplexingly foreign. {I am still writing in the present tense. I did not realize this. The first morning back in the states on the rural Vashon Island i had a dream that I was still in the jungle. A part of me is still coming home}. It is a strange feeling to experience a place on an energetic level that does not translate to the practicalities of language and cultural differences with the human ones. The first time I was consciously aware of this type of experience was when I visited the Hopi lands in Arizona. It was home, and I was different.
My Spanish teacher Isabel
I began this trip in a delightful little village in a coffee growing valley call Orosi. It is the sort of place where people sit on their porches in the evenings and greet their neighbors, they have two sacramental temples, the church and the football {soccer} field, and they adore their children. An arty looking Swiss woman makes real, organic wheat bread and pastries, and you can almost always hear someone playing bouncy latin tunes and reggae-tone. They have natural hot springs, and the locals actually look pretty happy. When I researched Costa Rica, it said they are a unique country, with no standing army, almost the entire population is literate, and they have a very high standard of living for Central America. They have dedicated a large percentage of their land to national parks, and they live what they call “Pura Vida,” literally pure life, meaning life is really, really good. They actually say it on a regular basis.
Patron Saint of Costa Rica-Black Madonna Virgen de los Angeles
The magical synchronicities of the trip are still being absorbed, and I look forward to sharing what I can as I integrate the deep mysteries that came through the ancient ones and the land and stone spirits. As life will do, I was guided to spend a month in the Orosi valley which is 40 minutes from the most important religious site in Costa Rica, which has a BLACK MADONNA! On her feast day, August 2nd, the devout walk 20 miles on their hands and knees to the cathedral in Cartago. I got to see folks doing the final leg of the journey in the church as they slowly made their way up to the little two-inch icon in such a humble fashion. I did not know she existed until I had been there a while, as I do not research my trips extensively. I Intuit where to go, and then show up and am lead to where I am best served. More on the Virgen de los Angeles as it emerges.
Mist Spirits at volcano Irazu, Costa Rica
Volcano Irazu's brilliant lagoon
From the mossy lushness of the Northwest, my heart remembers the magical white horses grazing on the terraced green hills, the huge toads devouring bugs in the evenings, the giant flying cockroaches, the black earth of the volcanos with hot springs on the rivers, coffee coffeee everywhere, the charming “adios” given as a greeting, the American thrift store clothes imported for that real US flava’, running out of vegetables at the grocery store, trying to learn Spanish when I was being deeply initiated by molds and pollens {good luck}, the wild 6.0 earthquake on my 9th birthday {see last blog post}, the abundance of friends available when you stay in hostels, only wearing my backpack about 20 minutes the entire trip, hearing weed wackers buzz regularly as the Tico’s attempted to subjugate the jungle, how light and effervescent the volcanos actually felt, and Lord Aranal the volcano, shrouded in the mist spirits, with the vacation portion of the trip at the fabulous “backpackers resort” http://www.essencearenal.com/ Much love to the jungles I shall return to.
Volcano Aranal the last morning
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