Pura Vida

Another quiet night here in EL INVU (those flower pictures are just outside my room). The days are really full here, there’s always so much to get done and there aren’t the normal kinds of distractions going on, it gives one pause to ponder how we normally have time for those distractions to begin with. From auditing the TESOL course to trying to apply these concepts to my own two classes (and then reflect on them), to trying to learn Spanish to enjoying the meditation, it’s a full day’s work. And not included in that is all the mandatory time you have to spend chatting, making small talk, visiting friends’ porches, and other vital activities. My supervisor here made the comment that while the Japanese use silence for greater intimacy, Costa Ricans fill up that space with talk that really means something else. Here's some great goat pictures below... the first one is at the town's soccer field, the second at a student's house...

The classes are going well. It is still quite challenging to have such very non-academic students and at such a beginning level as well. It makes me feel like I have so much to learn and not a lot of time to do it! I always want to rush through material more quickly in order to feel successful as a good teacher and also come up with really creative and dynamic (and alas, complicated) lessons. I keep having to step back and examine what it means for them to actually “know” a word or phrase, and KISS (Keep It Simple Stupid). The bugs and weather seem to be an issue no matter what around here, in whatever context. Come to think of it I did a lesson on weather terms, I should try another on bugs! One class a bat flew in and took quite some time finding its way back out. Another time a fly the size of a fist came in and it buzzed around like mad until one student caught it. He held onto it gently in his hand for some time, then placed it below his shoulder, on his chest. It stayed there motionless until the class ended. It was like his pet giant fly. I swear, this town really can feel like a town out of a Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel, though I’m not sure how to explain it all the time! Yesterday I was teaching the phrase “it’s muggy” just as it was so muggy that you could barely think, then they had a hard time understanding “it’s raining cats and dogs.” As if on cue, the rain outside started up so hard, as it’s ever so apt to do around here, banging away on that tin roof with such vengeance that you have to yell to get heard. Oh, here's the picture of the road leading up to "El Centro Espiral Mana":


Ah, the rain, yes. It’s pretty much daily, and it can just feel like the faucet is turned on non-stop with a kind of force that is hard to describe. That’s what I thought, at least, until last night. It had been a persistently deafening sound, and over a sustained period of time, when I realized this was something a little special, and woke up. The clock read 3.00 a.m. and I slid out of my mosquito net. The sky was flashing outside like a strobe light but the sheer racket outdid any major sound system! I took my flashlight to see if we were soon going to be flooded and as I rounded the corner, my neighbor, John, also a participant on this course, was also just coming out. All I remember him saying is “How am I ever going to be able to describe this to anyone I know?” We just kind of stood there for a minute in our underclothes and then went back to our rooms. All that could come to mind for me was New Orleans, I just had nothing else to really compare it to—somewhat the monsoon season of Japan, somewhat a couple weeks I’d spent in Florida—but not of this intensity! Here are some pictures of "El Centro Espiral Mana": Some good news that came my way with a haircut though. I’d been trying to get one for sometime. I figure I can make up some of the airfare costs by timing my periods overseas with cheap haircuts. So I got one upon arrival in Bombay, one just before leaving, and hadn’t had one since. Mary told me that a woman in town cuts hair, and lives just next to Milagro, one of my students, whose family I hang out with often. So I went to her house and was shown to an adjoining tiled room, where I got a very short haircut (and which cost less than $2). Everyone around here was utterly shocked and said they kind of didn’t know who I was now! They had gotten used to the locks. Anyway, her husband Francisco happened to be watching the Mexico-Argentina game on very poor reception, with commentary from the local radio. I made no attempt to hide my profound interest and was duly invited in to join in. She then said in parting that I’d be welcome to come over anytime future World Cup games were on. (here are some cows below that I spotted on a walk...)

I was a little shy on how to act on that the following morning, but the England-Ecuador elimination game gave me some confidence. They seemed pleased enough to see me and I bought a few sodas for us all at the local (and only) convenience shack around (see photo), owned by Poi, Mary’s husband’s brother (and my new language exchange partner). After the game, they somehow made me to understand that they would not be home for the later Holland-Portugal game, but invited me to come with them. Not knowing exactly where I’d end up, I hopped in the van and we drove across town (which means across the soccer field) and got out to spend about 20 minutes in the intense humidity visiting their aunts, uncles, great uncles, cousins, parents, etc. Then a horde more of us jumped in the van again and drove to a neighboring town of San Isidro to go into a humongous tin shack where just about everyone I have ever met was gathered there to play BING for a school charity event (it reminded me of Simpsons episodes where just about every character you’ve ever met in the series ends up being at some scene!) I kind of shrugged my shoulders and resigned myself to endure how many hours of Bingo until Francisco rescued me by giving me a puzzled look, so I got back in the car, after which he duly drove to the nearest restaurant where we watched the game in full (except we left inexplicably at halftime and went to a market, where Francisco tried to ask me questions that I couldn’t figure out, eventually it was all settled when I suggested going to a nearby restaurant for the second half).

We went back to the Bingo and waited around another hour (they marked their boards with corn pieces). A storm hit and the rain again made such a racket no one could hear anyone and we got soaked to the bone. Then I met Donald again, a serious England supporter who, with his limited English, tries to prove almost mathematically that England is destined to win it all this year. Oh yeah, and he’s a math teacher at the local high school. Somehow the whole thing was happening at Donald’s girlfriend’s house complex, so we went into their kitchen and had some coffee and got again thoroughly wet some more before departing. Here's a church and some cows around here we were... (in the picture above of the two men talking, Francisco is on the right and Donald on the left)

So now I’ve had to add to my daily retinue watching a couple World Cup games per day at Francisco’s house. I haven’t figured out what his work is, but his wife cooks food at the local school (and of course gives haircuts). It’s actually been a pretty fascinating comparison to what happened at the last World Cup for me. It was kind of a watershed time for me. I had been looking forward to it being in Tokyo for years beforehand, but just as it came, I was getting quite involved with Vipassana. I have some very powerful memories from that time, like going to the usual venues with friends, and the energy being some of the most exciting and exhilarating ever. And just learning experientially what this “anicha” was really about, and what I wanted to seek after and what I wanted to let go of, I found it incredibly unsatisfying and empty—much to my shock, I think. I remember once riding my bike by myself to the center of Tokyo one very late weekend night, and finding my way into this huge crowd of futbal aficionados from all different countries, chanting soccer songs and throwing balls into the crowd—it was one of the more amazing spectacles you could hope to find, but it really did nothing for me—I’d never had that kind of reaction before, and what’s more, it almost made me disgusted. So it seems like a funny kind of irony to now, four years later finding myself in a small town, away from any kind of commotion or excitement, and here I’m experiencing this huge craving to watch these games at all cost… well, I guess it is all anicha, eh!

Well, better bring this to an end because the bug bites keep coming the longer I stay here! I went to this one hot springs last weekend that was superb. It had dozens of pools and I’d say it's definitely on a level with Japan! Some pools were actually too hot to get in, even though I like to think of myself as a little seasoned in that area! Another pool I stood under this powerful and hot waterfall that emptied from above, and notice a cord in the air by me. Ah, I thought, must be something to hold onto if the falling water is too strong. Nope, just a live electric wire I found out, getting shocked in the process! The complex even had two entire bars in different pools—not the most ideal for me, but pretty interesting to see. Here is a picture of some of my friends and students...

Oh, and I guess I have to throw in another bug picture, eh....

Getting settled

Day by day here, and the heat and humidity are slowly getting more manageable. The first week I was barely able to have a discussion about teaching schedules because I just couldn’t concentrate on the words, and now I just feel a bit more laziness and lethargy than normal. I’ll be volunteer teaching the first five weeks or so and auditing the SIT TESOL Certification course for beginning teachers. I shadow trained this course in Chicago, and I’ll be actually training on one starting in July. I’ll be going to about half the sessions (the ones in the morning), which will further familiarize me with the material and hopefully help to make me both a better teacher and a little more experienced teacher. Also, I find some of this material is so like Goenkaji’s discourses on the ten day Vipassana courses… the words appear very simple, but it can take quite sometime to really grasp some of the underlying meanings. Every time we hear it we are a different person yet again, and can take more away from the points, and understand things from different angles. Teaching in a way that removes the teacher from the center of attention is the same kind of thing as letting go of that ego—it is so central to our thinking and conditioning that (for me at least) it takes a lot of work to get one’s mind around this subtle truth. Oh, here's a view of what I see as I step outside my room...


The town here is about 500 people and every door is open when one walks through town. There’s not much to do so people spend a lot of time sitting on their porches or going to their neighbor’s porch. The director here, Mary, is married to a local guy in town and that’s why this whole English center is here (Her husband Wilbur’s brother owns the only shop of any kind in town, really a kind of long booth where locals gather to share gossip and play pinball soccer). She takes in volunteers for six months and in return gives them room and board. Any town person who wants to attend an English class can do so for only 500 collones (or $10) per term. If they can’t afford this, then they are able to give back in some other way, such as volunteering to do other things at the center or performing some service in town. One student comes here once a week and cleans the grounds. Another gives cheese from his farm. There are also these SIT TESOL Certification courses running quite a bit. Here are some photos of my student Oscar, who is cutting the coconuts and getting the juice ready for lunch!

I’m set up in my room now and it’s workable. Usually no more than a few hours of sleep at any time due to the heat or bugs. The nice thing is the meditation is finally coming along. It’s so hard sitting at first in a place that doesn’t have a history of it, I find. It’s the hard work of clearing a new path in the jungle. Luckily the chanting tapes I have always help me mightily. But I’ll be moving to another quarter likely for the next course, so will have to get that one going as well. Sometimes I finish a sit and come out to see some cows or goats wandering around, lost, aimless, with a cursing herder charging in rubber boots to collect his misguided animal. A walk through town gives a true cacophony of dog cheers. There are always someone’s chickens wandering through our school and even puppies find their way here at times. Yesterday we had to chase some cows away with a stick in hand before they trampled the plants.

On Thursday there was a big party sending off the two teachers that Terry and I are replacing, who had been here for six months. They both spoke Spanish fluently and we barely speak it at all, so it is a new challenge for all. I’m studying out of my book every day but when I tried to talk to Wilbur’s brother Poi this evening at his store, I realized I had little to say but to tell him where I lived or to pass me one of about a dozen nouns I now know (both of which seemed rather odd and didn’t really leave much in the way of furthering the conversation). Luckily when I don’t know a word I can say the French and it is often close enough.

Anyway, there was this big party Thursday, and I met a lot of the locals. A lot of the young guys were glad to have another male in town and were trying to recruit me to tag along for weekend trips to the discotheque in the nearest town. After the party I got into the back of a pickup with a dozen of them, and the whole town followed to the famous “La Pachuga’s.” One student, Manuel, has set up this enormous kind of Tiki-hut outside his house and wired a karaoke system. So we sung Spanish and English songs, and I watched the natural rhythm as many of the Costa Ricans danced together. A bunch of the men were excited to find I was into soccer and invited me to come to their home to watch World Cup on satellite, but alas they must have forgot as the days still come and pass with only the NY Times and BBC to help me keep track… Costa Rica’s out anyway, and everyone here is pretty upset at the team… “they are so stupid” one guy said. Reminds me of my Saudi students at CU, who liked just about any team better than Saudi Arabia!

On Sunday the course participants arrived on site and on Monday we started workshops. So now the small center is a little more active, more energy and people around. It is just so nice being in such a small town, with nothing else around. Tropical fruit from the trees on the site is served every day as is juice, and good simple food as well. Blackberry juice today, along with some other fruit I’d never seen nor heard of. The only complaint really is the bugs. They are incredible. I get numerous bites every day (and night) and then have to wait to see what kind, the duration, the effect, the size, etc. Will it itch or hurt? Will there be a little blood or a big bump? Will it last a few hours or days? It’s the worst for a Vipassana meditator, because you get like a single mosquito in your room causing you dukkha an entire night with that no-kill clause… Just a few minutes ago we found this beetle about the size of a human hand. Last week in the middle of the road I saw an iguana the size of a small dinosaur!


Ok, that’s it for now! (oh, my room and sitting spot in this picture...)

Bienvenidos a Costa Rica

Arrival
I was met at the airport in San Jose and driven to my hotel, a beautiful place recommended to me called "Kap's Place." I was given some herbal tea and walked around the neat interior, with bright colors and a kind of water-fountain area that makes one feel like you are strolling outside. I knew something was a little off-kilter when I found several people watching Denver channel 9, and later was to find out, rather inexclipably, that Costan Rican TV (or this one at least) includes all of Denver's ABC, NBC, and CBS affiliates, meaning that the nearly 7,500 miles I traveled is barely recognizable through the airwaves. Another great thing about the hotel is that it had over a dozen types of herbal teas on hand, most of which I had no idea what they were because of the Spanish, but every cup was a new adventure!

A short sleep later, and I was greeted the following morning with the Costa Rican soccer team kicking off the entire World Cup 2006 in Germany and against Gemany. I walked about 15 minutes to Avenue Centralie (forgive my atrocious Spanish spelling), walking through a neat and very green park, and finding myself in packed crowds on this pedestrian-only street dressed red Tico soccer jerseys. The game was shown and could be heard in every corner store one walked past, every home, every television and radio imaginable. I found a giant screen at one corner where hundreds of fans had assembled for the game and somehow nudged a space for myself in crowd. The pandemonium was amazing. For the opening kick-off, and then the ensuing two CR goals, people jumping up and down, banging on the closed shop-iron doors, hugging, throwing things in the air, all as stern looking police officers circled the area and kept an eye out for anything a tad more serious. A walk during halftime found several more of these gigantic screens hung at other street corners with full sound systems to allow fans to watch everywhere. It was a big deal! The government declared a holiday, so all institutions were closed-- making it hard for me to exchange money to get the Costa Rican Collones, because that Friday was the game and the weekend followed it. For me it was just another reason to root against the Germans, not that another one was needed, but they prevailed just the same, a 4-2 victory, but it was a great game, great atmosphere goes without saying, and I too now sport a red Tico jersey.
There doesn't seem to be much to see in San Jose, so I spent most of the following few days walking around the main pedestrian street some more, watching all the World Cup games, getting one veggie meal after another of rice and beans at the sodas (small CR style restaurants), yet still admiring the fog-covered and not-so-distant mountains that seem to be at every turn. It was amazing just how much the city would change going one small block east or north, say, as it turned from a very cosmopolitan, crowded, busy thorougfare to suddenly being a rather back-alley feel with hardly anyone around save a few straggly characters wondering who the gringo is. I don't know if I've ever seen a city change so much and so fast, well, I suppose some places in India I've seen similar, but the Latin American feel is totally different. Speaking of India, I went to a neat market place here in San Jose, with everything from fresh meat to traditional clothing to spices, etc. It is known as a rather busy place, but compared to similar things I've seen in places like India, Mexico, and Morocco, I was struck by how sanitary and neat it was-- no gut wrenching smells even! Reminds me of a guy I met in Bangkok once who said he's been a vegetarian for a few decades, and what caused him to start? Literally, walking through a meat market in Calcutta... never touched animal or fish again!

I also met the daughter of some Vipassana friends in Boulder who was doing a legal internship in San Jose, and we checked out the Museum of Pre-Colombian gold, it was really neat. Had all kinds of gold figurines that the Native peoples had made before Europe arrived, and described their uses by the village shamans-- I was struck by how much this reminded me of what I've heard of traditional Chinese medicine, but that's not really too surprising...

After a couple days I repacked my bags and found myself back to the airport, to meet with many people coming from many different places in what seemed rather hopeful circumstances. After a little waiting it all turned out, though, and with Terry (my fellow volunteer teacher), Mary (the site director) and her husband, and Noreen (the other Trainer), we drove the 2.5 hours into the CR countryside, stopping once at a roadside Italian restaurant, past decaying bridges over tropical streams and rough roads (though again a piece of cake by Indian standards!) to get to EL IVNU at about 1 a.m., and a night sleep in what should be many here...

The Country
I woke up the next morning to the sound of nature oppressively from all directions! Bugs, frogs, birds, all kinds of animals. It's hard to give an adequate picture of how alive these tropical climates are to anyone who hasn't seen them-- hard for me as well, because I don't know how I could have prepared for being somewhere just so incredibly alive and fertile at every inch. It doesn't take much work to have a good garden, and the landscaping in the area is the most exquisite you can hope to find anywhere. The first couple of days took some weeks to pass, as is normal in such new settings, the most remarkable thing being the equally (or perhaps even more so) indescribably heat and humidity. It made the simplest tasks take a whole morning or more, and when I though about putting forth some thought on a lesson plan or (gasp!) curriculum, it seemed like the hardest thing in the world. It was so overwhelmingly hot and humid that it was about all you could do to just keep your mind functioning throughout the day, to not let the mind roll in where one could go to escape it back to "normality." So we had a short tour of the site, relaxed in the omnipresent hammocks while trying to remember to drink water and to understand the words of the book being read, and spied the incredible variety of plant, animal, reptile, and insect life all around us. I even braved a walk of town, which consisted of a small convenience shop, a beautiful large soccer field, an elementary school, and, um, I think that's it!

Which, coicidentally, is causing me more than a little strain. Under any other condition in these eight or so years I would wholeheartedly welcome this kind of situation, this present time being the _only_ exception to think of, as I gradually grapple more with the realization that I might not see much more of the World Cup... a proposition that seemed unthinkable just a week ago (I have to say the sensations were pretty unpleasant at first!). There is no TV at the site and none in town. I spent way too many hours hoping to believe in miracles by finding an Internet site that would have a live feed with a less than Highspeed connection, and I braved that dripping temperature to bike 3 km to another town in hopes of finding another TV. The options are dwindling to trying to quickly make a soccer-mad friend in this small town, take a 45 minute bus ride, or try to figure out how I can do that small detail of teaching while I also happen to be here! The NY Times and BBC websites just don't seem to quite cut it with that emotion and beauty of the sport.................................................

So, back to another night of off and on sleep, with large unrecognizable fruits hitting the roof like a bomb from overhead (they could literally knock you out if they ever managed to score a direct hit), the heavy rains sounding like machine gun fire, and the myraid bugs getting past the screenless windows and into a mosquioto net that doesn't really seem feasible anyway. And another day of moving through the heat, that humidity that turns any paper or cardboard material into pure lifeless forms that tear and compress at any touch, try battling these two elements as the brain tries to go one Spanish book page at a time! There is also a great cook onsight who makes a good array of veggie dishes, and the most incredible fresh fruits juices of more fruits I have never seen much less am able to pronounce (though that Starfruit Juice was great!). And as the rains come and the thunder breaks so loudly I think it must be napalm, sipping a good cup of coffee, there's a phrase I never though I'd find a way to say for myself, in this lifetime at any rate!

Two more SITers came, a MAT37 and staffer, and we had a great evening at Mary's place, trying to avoid their young dog from tearing our clothes to pieces as we had some sumptuous bananas dipped in chocolate fondue. We gossiped all about mutual friends and mutual understandings of the SIT culture (which is a very close second-- and certainly feels less unwholesome-- than engaging in similar kinds of Vipassana gossip) and then debated about whether to go to the local karaoke "bar", but decided not to since the karaoke spot in town isn't really a bar at all, but rather someone's living room who'd we have to wake up as he set up the equipment for us to sing into. Such is the small town life. We do have a big send-off party at this spot on Thursday, for the teachers now leaving that Terry and I will replace (we vistited their classes the other day, where I was about as much fun as a bag of stale coal as I sat on kindergarten chairs, with my slow thought processing, light fever, sore throat, and general weakness). But the classes were impressive... they are given to the local community free of charge by Mary, and anyone who wants can learn free English. It is quite an amazing community, the town and the site (the town is only about 500 people and just about every house I walked past had its door wide open, the occupants out on the porch in rocking chairs, the males ususally shirtless as they stared at the gringo). The biggest challenge I saw in the beginning class wasn't English forms so much as the very concept of learning and speaking in another language. In this class, a gaucho (local cowboy) stood up and said in translated Spanish, "We are not professionals. We are not academics. We are simple people. We are farmers and housewives and laborers. We want to learn English but we are simple people. We will try hard, but please have patience with us." It is funny, though, and again extraordinarily similar to Vipassana, to again be somewhere on the other side of the world and have so many concepts, theories, people, places, and even "vibes" that are the same all over again. Both these things are such small communities that go the world over and back. And though they may have all kinds of other connections, and for something worldly it's one of the better things I can hope to find, that small subtle but important difference-- boy does it weigh on me sometimes. Anicha eh. Speaking of which I was just delighted and surprised to find there will be a Vipassana course in Costa Rica in July I can probably serve a small portion of!

Ok, that's about up to speed now, other than the amazing tropical hot springs that all of us went out to today (though don't be too envious, it didn't do anything to take me out my misery than an hour sitting does, an hour that is an hour the world around-- well, unless it happens to be India or Burma :)

By the time it got there we saw the real reason it's called a Rain Forest, with the rains and thunder and lightning showing no mercy. When one bolt hit the nearby river, we were all to evacuate the pool and wait for the storm to pass. One nice thing about the rains, though, it has a way of cooling things down... the pools were great, with one at 48 degrees Celsius and actually beginning to rival those steaming pots of Japan. The pools were also very natural like, carved rock places where you could sit and that aliveness of the tropics all around again... below, here's a picture of the gushing river after it swelled up with an hour of rain water...

Ok, that's the update for me at the time, bugs keep dropping from nowheres onto my hands and neck as I write this so that's a sign to let go for now!

Leaving Boulder

I feel so busy I barely have time to write a tad here, but let me try! Really I have no one to blame but myself for being busy though, for I took my good time getting back involved in the worldly life since finishing the last Vipassana course. The more I get tastes of that clear disposition and see the lightness that can come in burning off sankharas, the world just seems to have less and less it can offer. Or, at least it is taking longer and longer for me to fall back into those older ways of enjoying the pleasures that come through the six sense doors.

So, school finished, I put the grades in, and readied myself for serving an upcoming ten day course. I was really excited to work hard during it, because I knew it’d be the last Vipassana I’d have until at least August, so I was hoping that some good work could keep the fuel burning as long as possible into my solo look ahead in summer. Even a couple days before going out to Camp Colorado, something inside me knew it was coming up, my sleep changed and that pre-course anxiety was anticipating that inner exploration again…

It was a great course (aren’t they all?). But a busy one. Every day seemed like a week, literally. For the first 5-6 days or so a new adventure kept presenting itself and having to be solved. The strangest one began when I saw a car drive on to the site and a man wearing shorts get out to adjust some meter. I pointed it out to the male manager and then forgot about it. Turned out he was from the State Health Department, and decided to dump in such an extreme amount of Chlorine into the water that no one could touch the water supply for days afterwards, and we had to have dozens of gallons of fresh drinking water brought in for a few days for students.

Not that we had an over-abundant supply of servers to go out and do such an errand leisurely. There were only four full time servers, leaving just Zach and I full time in the kitchen. There was part time help, though. With three of us in there it was extreme. I was fully aware of having no awareness during these times and also aware of trying to be aware and utterly failing. With four people it was pleasantly manageable, and though it still took a great effort, I could actually be aware of the sensations on my hand, say, when I was wiping a counter, and note that it too was anicca. The first few minutes of the sittings were always so wild and a super-monkey mind with the busy-ness that had followed me from the kitchen, and most of the time I was kind of ready to work and sit properly just as the end of the hour came up on me. Ah well. What complaints can anyone have who is so supremely lucky to get a chance to serve a parent for a full ten days? Below, a pic of the Salida folk...

The course finished and there was benefit for all. My mom had a great course, and the female Teacher told me that she was actually inspired and moved by how much courage she showed during it. Her two friends also had fantastic times. One, Cheryl, is the extended family of Paul, who I am now living with in Boulder. Paul and Vidya take their first course in Texas in September, and I hope I will be able to serve that as well. We’ll have to see with work. The other friend, Jane, owns a yoga studio in town which is now being used for weekly group sittings for the Salida folk. She is also looking to serve the upcoming CO course. Next week we are showing “DOING TIME DOING VIPASSANA” at the local library in town and I did a local radio interview to promote it-- was a little nervous!

After the course ended I came back to Boulder with Michelle, a friend I served with in Illinois and Massachusetts. I showed her around the Bubble and we attended a group sitting, and then had an informal one of our own after meeting a number of meditators fresh off the course and still glowing. We hiked around Nederland and went towards Lost Lake, but alas it remained lost and we didn’t find it. We had a great meal at a Nepali restaurant in town and met up with Mark, his mom, and girlfriend, all of whom were also at the course (and Zach’s mom is a very old student too, Colorado has some pretty awesome parent-kids connections!)

Ok, one other neat small story about the course and then I’ll stop this blissful ramble. A few days before it began, Vidya happened to have some Nepali friends over to our house. The grandmother, or Amma as she is called, happened to see my Vipassana videos. She had taken some courses in her country, and watched them, saying “I know these people! I know this place!” with joy. Vidya had to leave for work, but Amma said the vibrations were so wonderful in the house, she asked to stay and meditate. I came home from CU to hear all this and was astounded! I met with her at their family’s Nepali restaurant and informed Amma that there is indeed Vipassana activity nearby and she was welcome to come. Amma didn’t speak a word of English, but luckily the male Teacher lived in Nepal during the 1970s and spoke the language fluently. So she was driven by her granddaughter on Day 2 (the granddaughters she worried over for wearing revealing clothing, going out to danceclubs, and spending time with boys they weren’t due to marry). She wore beautiful saris at the course and bowed reverentially three times each to both Teachers, touching her head to the carpet each time. She also refused to turn her back towards them at any time, and walked out of room by taking backwards steps. She got so much benefit from it, and was a delight to watch during the checking sessions with the teacher, even though we couldn’t understand the exact words. Now her family wants to sign up for the next course in CO!

After Michelle left I made my way to the famous Memorial Day Bolder Boulder race that attracts a whopping 100,000 people. I met a Saudi female student on my way to the football stadium and helped her find her visiting mother lost somewhere in the stands, just as a half dozen Marines and Special Forces were falling out of the sky with huge parachutes and American flags flying in the wind, and 21 gun salutes and veterans speaking on podiums about how they escaped the insidious Japanese in the caves of Iwa Jima. I tried to translate what was happening for them and felt slightly confused myself. But being sensitive just coming out of a course, I also felt tears and goosebumps swelling out of the patriotic fervor being generated in that crowd, swelling in me as well as I absorbed it all. Below is a picture of my student Layal at a crowded CU stadium...

Now I leave the country again in a week, will land in Costa Rica just as they start the World Cup by taking on the host country, Germany, in a game that will be shown in every single _Movie Theater_ across the country and in which the government has declared a national holiday. Apparently Costa Rica has the tamest fans in South American football, so tame that they actually hired hooligans from Argentina a number of years ago to try and instill some good ol' mayhem. I just bought some Spanish books today. And as a result of my aversion to being worldly again, I now find myself with a seeming million things to do and I’m scrambling to get it completed in time and be sane while doing it.

Oh, if anyone is interested, I will be in Costa Rica for the summer, and my address is

MY NAME
EL INVU de Penas Blancas
Via San Carlos
Alajuela, Costa Rica

Here is a picture with Paul and Vidya just before leaving Boulder!!!