Crestone Week 2

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Have made it through the second week and my god do I feel knackered! This really is a full on curriculum. I will probably say it in every blog entry I make so I apologise now. This week I started my massage practicum on the local people – they offer their bodies for me to practise the current modality on every weekday evening 5-7pm. I'm still honing my Jin Shin Do skills. It's interesting doing the locals round here because they are all so into their wacky holistic lifestyles that even the local farmer's wife has extensive experience in acupressure massages and energy work so getting feedback from these people is really useful (if a little daunting). The great thing is that anyone who comes to practicum has to reciprocate with something - people bring us food mainly. This week I received some homemade zucchini bread and two tubs of Ben & Jerry's ice cream – yum.

Last Sunday we headed up the road, which turns into a dirt track, past the dojo for a couple of miles to the Shu Mei International Centre. This is the japanese spiritual centre that I mentioned previously. Our teacher had told us if we had time we should go up there as they were doing their monthly Joy-rei ceremony. I had no idea what to expect, but we drove along the icy track very slowly and eventually came to Shu Mei International. Most buildings in Crestone are of similar materials and mainly quite humble from the outside, I presume due to the remoteness limiting the building materials available. But Shu Mei International is amazing – beautiful modern, light architecture with clean lines, built out of light-coloured wood and glass and built into the mountain so it almost blends in with it. Their game is natural agriculture – they don't even use manure, but rely on prayers and intention to grow naturally and organically.

We were met by two tall thin young japanese men in suits who ushered us in and gave us a book each, and in we went to the temple. Inside it was so clean, precise and modern – with a ceremonial shrine at the front decorated with flowers and state of the art TVs at each end, plus a traditional japanese gong hanging in one corner. It could have been a cult HQ, but I was there for the free food served after the ceremony so was willing to take the chance. Shu-Mei International is a non-denominational organisation whose beliefs are based around art and beauty and this natural agriculture trip. It was very odd to be up a dirt track in the snow in this remote part of Colorado, yet suddenly stumbling into a mini rural Japan, and more strangely, having a backrow seat at this ceremony amongst a load of Japs who didn't speak engrish. Anyway, the ceremony started, we attempted to join in the singing/chanting (in japanese), the main leader dude offered something to the shrine and then did a healing ceremony emanating positive energy/life force from the palm of his hand out to everyone, then an american guest speaker came along and asked us who was a child of the earth, loads of bowing ensued, then we all made our way to another hall to eat the goods they focus their attention on growing. The food was amazing – beautiful vegetable stew and rice, salad, amazing bread, and then little green tea biscuits and tea to finish off with. They ask for a donation but you only pay what you can afford. Naturally I stuffed my face.

I've just been up there again tonight for their film evening to watch Sicko. It was fascinating watching this with an american audience because when the bit about the UK and the NHS came on they were all gasping. They couldn't believe the low price of our prescriptions, nor could they believe that we don't pay anything when going to hospital – the bit that got the biggest intake of breath was when they showed the cashier at Hammersmith hospital whose job it was to reimburse patients' travel costs. It made me realise that although we slag off the NHS, it is a world away from the nastiness of the US healthcare system.

This is a really boring blog entry and really long too. I write it simply to keep The Olds updated in their retired state - with so much time on their hands they have to temporarily live vicariously through me. Or something.

This week there is a fire ceremony on wednesday night at one of the ashrams to celebrate the full moon. I tell ya, I really am in seventh heaven here – for once I am the conservative uptight one with rightwing views compared to this lot round here.

Crestone - week 1!

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Crestone is a strange little town nestling in the foothills of the Sangre De Cristo mountain range in Colorado. The area is highly sacred in native american indian culture, and the population of Crestone is made up of several Buddhist communities, several ashrams, a Japanese spiritual centre and a high priest of Bhutan also has his summer residence here. How they all found heard about Crestone I don't know – it is really remote and tiny! The plateau that runs through the middle of the area was apparently known as the Bloodless Valley by the native indians, as warring tribes refused to fight here because the area was considered so sacred. The modern day sees equally spiritual gatherings going on but with a global denomination represented.

I have been here a week and completed my first week at Crestone Healing Arts Centre. Wow is it intense. We start at 7am with two hours of kundalini yoga (violent breathing and strange singing/chanting) or chi gong (like tai chi). Then we are sent out into the snow for a silent walking meditation to offer gratitude to the mountains for no less than 15 minutes. I have not made it past 15 mins so far as my feet are frozen by the 10th minute and I have to hobble back to the dojo and defrost my feet on a warm cup of tea. When I landed in Denver from Mexico I was still in my flip flops. I nearly died of shock. The snow out here is severe, and apparently this is the coldest winter in the area since 1970 or something. Thank god I stocked up on winter clothing in Denver before heading out here, although my feet are still constantly freezing!

I live in the school dojo with the two other people taking my course. The dojo is about 4 miles from Crestone, facing the mountains and is a purpose-built barn thing with a large central spongy floor that is used for yoga/aikido. I live on the mezzanine level around the top looking in – it's very peaceful. I have my own sleeping space screened off, and share the kitchen. There is no time to do anything else as teaching starts at 10am and goes through til 5/6pm, and then we have study/massage practicum and of course there is the need to cook dinner at some point – time is very tight!

Today was my first day off so I got a lift into Crestone and hung out at the local internet cafe, called Shambhala (yes). Whilst here I was informed of Crestone Free Box over the road, so I went over to have a look. It is like a free clothing deposit that people take from and donate to. I have been desperate for some snow-proof boots for the morning meditational walks, as potential frostbite is certainly biting into my karmic abilities of staying centred and respectful. Brilliantly there were a pair in the Free Box, slightly too big but that is perfect as I can wedge up with thick socks and have the joy of the feeling of my feet in the mornings now.

I am currently learning a japanese acupressure technique called Shin Jin Do. It involves using various pressure point formulas around the body to deal with various ailments. It's a great treatment and really works on an energy level – I am currently memorising 45 Jin Shin Do points and several more general acupressure ones. My brain hurts.

Last night was our first night free so we hopped in the car and drove 40 mins through the snow to a natural hot springs called Joyful Journeys (the names just get worse...). It was great – sitting in a hot pool under the stars, but my hair and towel froze, and running through snow to get to each pool was quite shocking for my tootsies.

I can only check emails at weekends now on my weekly pilgrimage to Shambhala (snigger) so that is why my correspondence will become virtually non-existent over the next 3 months.

Colorado - first impressions

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Today I went shopping for winter clothing and supplies for my massage course. Denver seemed really relaxed, and it was totally empty due to the Superbowl taking place today. At 5.20pm I got on a Greyhound bus and have just spent 5 hours getting to the town of Alamosa. From what I can see, bus stations here attract exactly the same sort of substandard population of weirdos as the bus stations back at home. Add that to the fact that when you get out of prison here you get a free fare on a Greyhound bus to get home and it makes for an interesting crowd jostling in line when the bus pulls in. Someone even asked me if they could eat the rest of my salad that I was eating. I gladly handed it over because it was a really bad salad from 7-11 anyway, and he proceeded to eat it with his hands. And he was one of the respectable looking ones.

On the way here the bus slowed right down as the snow was quite thick on the road, and now I'm here in Alamosa there is a crisp layer of snow over everything. It's still really shocking to me! I just checked into the Super8 motel and decided to try and find some food. The only option round here without venturing out in a car at this time of night seems to be the 24 McDonalds Drive Thru next door, so I went over there and checked out the menu. The door was locked so I had the ridiculous task of ordering at a Drive Thru on foot. Note to self - don't. I loitered around the speaker for a while but nothing happened, then knocked on the kiosk window and got no answer. Then I went back to the speaker feeling very stupid indeed, and a car had pulled up so for some reason I went behind it as if in a queue. Then another car pulled in behind me so I was looking really very odd, maybe like a nutter who pretended to drive a car that didn't really exist. In the end I lost my nerve and slunk off back to the Super 8. I have just raided the breakfast bar in the lobby and stolen some bran flakes and a sachet of hot chocolate so have necked that and have managed to stem the flow of idle hunger.

Tomorrow I am going to the little town of Crestone to start my course at Crestone Healing Arts Centre. It's about one hour's drive from Alamosa. Hopefully I don't hate my coursemates and ideally none of them will be weirdos. Seeing as we have to live together communally on site for 3 months it will be interesting to see what they are like, and whether I sleepwalk or sleep-hallucinate and scare the living daylights out of them. Oh the joys of a nocturnal behaviourial affliction. Here's what a local website says about Crestone:

"Flush up against the flanks of the gothic and mystical Sangre de Cristo peaks, far from the everyday life of most of the rest of the world, lies the abundantly spiritual community of Crestone. Likened by many to Sedona, Arizona, visitors flock to Crestone for its sacred energy and high concentration of diverse spiritual centers, including a large Buddhist community. Add to that the raw and magical beauty of the area, its well-known festivals and events and active arts community - and you've got a recipe for a visit to remember."

So that's about it! I better go to bed now as it is way past my bedtime...

The last few days in Mexico...

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I left Mexico City yesterday morning and felt really sad to be leaving. Luckily I will return in May to get my flight home so I can get to play for one more month. The last week was amazing - I forced myself to leave my comfy existence in Puerto and went on a little road trip down the coast to a hippy village/beach called Zipolite, and its even smaller neighbouring village Mazunte. On the way there we bumped into some hippies who had just come from the Rainbow Gathering that was taking place up in Vera Cruz. By all accounts it sounded a fairly challenging experience. This time it was held on private land which had previously been deforested for cattle. It meant that the site was infested with tics and also having suffered from continuous rainfall, very muddy. One of the girls we met was covered in tic bites! So we hooked up in the back of camionetta/ colectivo taxi van and got out together at Zipolite, and went and lied on the sand by the beach. I had heard the water was deadly here - apparently Zipolite even means 'beach of the dead'. and on paddling in up to my knees I understand why. The undercurrent was so strong, and the wave curls up from nowhere really close to the beach and then crashes down. There is some kind of shelf only a few metres from the sand which causes this. It is a strange contradiction to an otherwise laidback hippy paradise. The other strange thing about Zipolite is that the lifeguards are all voluntary. Up to 80 people die a year here but the lifeguards are voluntary?! Then on meeting a few I was further confused... One had a tattoo on his neck and eyebrow and looked more gangsta than lifesaver. Another one I saw wearing a lifeguard t shirt was severely obese. I don't think he was in any state to save anybody. Yet the lifeguards spend all day on the beach, zooming around on a buggy. I wondered how they financially could manage it, and the only conclusion I could come to is that it is all a front for some kind of ludicrous drug peddling. Turns out this isn't that far from the truth!

Mazunte is much calmer but hilarious as it felt like I was walking around some kind of hobbit village. All the little houses are carved out of wood and there are some lovely dwellings, but there are mainly matted hair hippies triping down the street, and the volleyball net on the beach had been squatted as some kind of community action zone. It's not overrun though, there aren't enough people to have that happen. It is a lovely place to be, and there were some great places to eat.

Heading back to Mexico City I took the 12 hr nightbus which passed surprisingly quickly despite the elderly mexican woman next to me snoring like a trooper. I headed for the neighbourhood of Coyoacan which is where the houses of Frida Kahlo and Trotsky are. It was nice but strange to be back in town. At 9am I got my flight and went through Las Vegas to Denver. I totally forgot that the rest of the world was not a beach because I arrived in Denver last night in my flip flops. Oh my god, it was cold! Apparently there is not much snow in Denver for the time of year, but it was still a shock to my beachbum system.