Central America | Mexico | Istmo & Gulf of Mexico | Chiapas | Palenque – Poolside Spirituality

Central America | Mexico | Istmo & Gulf of Mexico | Chiapas | Palenque – Poolside Spirituality

01.22.05    4:47PM
I read a little of what I wrote yesterday. Isn’t that they oldest thing to write about. How you ordered a fish or a pig or a turkey, and it came with the head on. Oh well, it happened, and honestly, it was a little shocking at the time. I am in an internet café today. It is comfortably air conditioned and clean. Right now the connection is down and so I am taking the time to start writing today’s page. I guess, as soon as I said that they connection when back up. I don’t know if I should continue to write this and have to pay for the time in the air conditioning, or if I should get back to writing emails and posting stuff on the internet. I guess I am choosing to post stuff up on the internet. Please hold…
OK, still in the internet café. Heather just left to get onto her bus for Cancun, and then she is off to Cuba. She was giving me a hard time because Americans can’t go to Cuba. From what I’ve been told, I’m not missing much. She was a funny little girl. She had some real issues with the United States. (I hope she is reading this) She is Canadian and is all upset that the US uses it’s power to force it’s culture on to third world countries. I don’t know how true or untrue that is. I do know that it is easy to point to finger. In fact, I think it is easier to point the finger than to look inside. Not that she doesn’t self reflect. She is young and still and idealist. That is great. That is what makes the world go round. I just don’t think people should have such a hard time with my country, I don’t have a hard time with theirs. I mean, if they do, I guess that is their agenda, and I don’t really need to worry about it. That is, until it starts conflicting with mine, then well, I don’t know. I’m not the gung-ho, My-Country-Is-Better-Than-Yours American, but at the same time, the more people try to talk bad about it, the more I enjoy standing up to defend it. It is a very beautiful country, and it has made quite a few contributions to mankind. Not just the country, but them people in the country, and the lifestyles and education that are there that help generate an environment for better living. Back at Mayabell, the campsite, there is this one guy, Ricardo, who is very much into spirituality, and into letting me know how great his plan is. He is reading this book, The Course In Miracles. I think that is the name. I read the beginning of it this morning, and it was good. It was similar to a Buddhist philosophy in that he believes this world is an illusion, and through following the Holy Spirit, one can achieve a Christlike vision of reality, or I guess in this case, unreality. I didn’t really get into it that deeply, but I did have a problem with the fact that he is sitting by a pool in a resort type campsite in Mexico, smoking tons of pot and drinking rum and tequila, all the while trying to tell me what a high being he is. From my experience, drinking and smoking has only brought about a sense of confusion and misunderstanding. When I was on heroin, I guess it was four years ago now, I thought that I was this higher being. In fact, I honestly believed I was the current day reincarnation of Jesus Christ. I thought it was my duty to be the savior of all mankind. When in reality, I was a confused addict, unable to leave his house due to and overwhelming sense of terror. I wasn’t able to save myself, much less the entire human race. I’ll talk to him tonight and tell him how I feel. I guess it isn’t right to sit back and badmouth him, without even getting his side of the story. I spent the rest of the day today looking for my keys. I lost them somewhere between the bathroom and my car, which was about a ten meter stretch. I went back and forth looking, and then also looking in the van. Going through all of the bags, unpacking, repacking. I am a little concerned that someone picked them up and might try to break in and steal something. It would be very simple. Maybe I will park the car right next to me all night and then head out early in the morning tomorrow. It is Sunday tomorrow, and I would like to try and find a church somewhere. I think that is what I didn’t notice about this town, that I do notice now, there isn’t a church on the plaza. Every town I have seen thus far in Mexico has had a huge cathedral on the plaza, or at the tallest point in the town. I don’t think I have seen a church thus far in the entire town.
Oh that was really strange. I was just writing about going to church and about the fact that I haven’t seen any churches, and a pair of Mormon missionaries, just like my brother Drew, perhaps maybe a little darker skinned and wearing short sleeves as opposed to long sleeves and long underwear, walked by the front door. I rushed outside to greet them. My Spanish is getting a little bit better, and I was able to decipher that they are holding a service in a casa (house) left up the next street. He gave me a photographia of, whoa. That was funny. I just wrote photographia in stead of photograph. The Spanish is starting to work it’s way into my system. That is great though. The told me that the service starts tomorrow at ten. I’m not all that strong in the Mormon faith, but it keeps presenting itself to me. Every time I go here or there I run into this person or that. I got lost that one time and found that temple in Monterrey. I’m not so sure Mormonism is the exact path I need to take, but drunk and stoned at the side of a pool isn’t where I imagine the pinnacle of spirituality to be either. Maybe Ricardo will come with me to church tomorrow. I know that he is on his path, but it would be nice if he was able to understand a bit of mine.

Category : Central America | Mexico | Istmo & Gulf of Mexico | Chiapas | Palenque , Uncategorized