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Prompt: One Word. Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you're choosing that word. Now, imagine it's one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?

Emerge.

What a fantastic year.  I knew, as I sat on the precipice of the new year last December, that this year was going to be a Damn Good Year.  And it was.  It was the year I emerged.

This year, I chose to believe in myself.  This year, I chose to be myself.  I finally feel like who I am is just right, as if I've been Goldilocks wandering through my life, tasting all the porridge that the world had to offer, and found that who I was was all I ever needed.  I discovered I didn't want to chase after power.  I discovered I didn't need to sacrifice my health for security.  I discovered that if I follow my own desires, that I'll be just fine. 

I finally feel that I am enough.

Yes.  2010 is the year that I emerged. 

And next year?  Next year will be the year that my little bud will burst open, raining my brilliant colors and heady fragrance on those around me, sharing my own personal beauty with the world. 

It's time to bloom baby.  Bloom.
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I'm going to do this.

I stumbled across a site, reverb10.com, that for each day of the month of December, you're given a prompt of something to reflect on in the year past, and I believe the year to come.  The tag line for the site is "reflect on this year & manifest what's next".  And I totally groove with that.  So, IT'S ON.  Get ready for a rock-rollin good time of me musing about the year behind and the year ahead.

I really appreciated why the woman started this last year.  Her mom died on November 30th when she was in sixth grade, so every year since then, the holidays have been a sad time.  Understandably.  But last year, she decided to change that.  She decided to make it a celebration.

And I'm down with that.

It made me think of how I always get so stressed out and worked up around the holidays, and how I've totally lost touch with how fun it used to be as a child.  This is the end of the year, a time of celebrating those that are in our lives that we love, and all the wonderful gifts we have been given in the past year, as well as to reflect on how wonderful we want the next year to be.

Yes, I think I could do with an attitude change around Christmas.  So let's get this ON.

Prompts from last year include reflecting on great trips, books, articles, and challenges from the past year.  My personal favorite is What was your epiphany for the year?  I hope that shows up again.  Though I'm not really hot on the "what ad made you think this year".  Blah.

But 2010 has been an amazing year, and I knew it would be.  Last December, I could feel something was shifting, and my New Years Eve party was a great omen for the coming year, and a great way to bring it on in.

This year I've begun to totally change my life.  I've changed my eating habits.  I've lost 30 pounds.  I've quit my job.  I've planned my business.  I've changed my attitude.  And I'm ready to begin.

Here's to 2011, a year of blossoms from the seeds that I've planted and sewn in 2010.
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So I've been listening to a lot of Law of Attraction stuff lately, specifically Abraham-Hicks stuff.  I mean, how new-agey can you get?  Not only talking about manifesting your desires by changing your energy vibration, but this information is being CHANNELED from a medium who is tapping into a wiser soul-entity group called Abraham.  Yeah, sounds far out, but I totally buy into that shit.

It was funny, because one of the suggestions they have I had actually thought up myself a few months earlier.  Or perhaps I channeled it, who knows?  Anyway, I'm putting it to use, and it is great.  And I want to share it with you, oh dear mysterious reader.

Meet my Manager, Mikey.  Or Malcolm.  Or Matt.  I've decided to rename him at my whim with another name starting with an M.  It's our thing.

I tend to get overwhelmed with all the little things I need to do.  But a birthday present.  Answer my e-mails.  Clean the bathtub.  Get that bill situation straightened out.  These little naggling nuggets really wear me down, and just cause me to want to escape into the vortex of my TV screen.

And that's where my Manager comes in.

I am now dictating to him all the things I need done, and am just letting him take care of it.  I've given him a team to work with, and he can delegate as needed.  And, if he needs action from me on anything, or a decision, he can come to me and let me know.  But otherwise, I'm just trusting him to take care of it.

It's been great.  The stress relief is profound.  And you know what, it is actually WORKING. 

Every now and again I'll get inspired to do something.  Like an idea for that birthday gift.  I know when I get that tapping, it's Mikey saying, yep, time for this now!  And I'll take care of it.  Great that he came up with the idea, and just put it in my head, and it's done.  I don't have to spend hours mulling over it.  Things just seem to be taking care of themselves, and the stuff I need to do, happens when I'm in a place where I'm motivated to do it.

That is the thing I've realized about this, is when that thought comes through my head to do something, I know that it means it is time to do it, so I get it taken care of then.  Because I realize that Mikey has discovered that that moment is the perfect moment to do it.  And then it is done!

Every now and again I want to pull one of those tasks back and chew on it, not actually getting anything done on it, but just stressing over it getting done.  But then I realize that it is disrespectful to Mikey.  After all, he's working so hard on it, I really shouldn't micro-manage him.

And you know what else I figured out?  He lives for this shit.  I think this is his passion, he loves helping out, whisking little tasks away from me, and finding ingenious ways to get them done.  So, who am I to deprive him of this?

I recommend to you, dear reader, to get your own Manager Mikey.  Or Mathilda.  Or Bob.  Whatever works for you.  You may find that some of the stuff that is on your mental to do list doesn't really need to get done.  But it's great, because you don't have to worry about that.  Let you Manager just handle everything, after all, he's got a team of employees to help him.

Then you can just sit back, relax, and enjoy whatever it is you are doing.  And live in the present moment.
 
Occasionally I think about this blog.  Yes, dear reader, only occasionally.  Anyway, as I think about this blog, I think of how I've neglected it.  That I should right SOMEthing here.  But this blog never really collected around much of a theme.  Except a sense of self-fascination.

I really would like this to be a place where I can just be whatever, whomever, and throw it all up in your faces.  I totally understand that this is not a blog that someone would follow.  Except, perhaps, my dear friend Johnny who awaits every word that drips from my lips.  (And nod to you, Johnny, your recent blog posting frenzy inspired me to type again).

So I suppose the value of this blog is really to me, a way for me to empty out the muck in my head.  And, if there are any voyeurs out there, they can take a peak.

So, there you have it, I suppose.  Perhaps I will immediately write another post dribbling out more words.

And perhaps not.
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The Temple
My second day at Sachamama in the Amazon was my first Ayahuasca ceremony.  I didn't know quite what to expect, only that there might be hallucinations (which I have never experienced before), and also vomiting and a dire need to go to the bathroom.  But I also knew that this was an age-old tradition within the Shamanistic path to learn and explore on a Spiritual level.

I had a little bit of a warm up, since I was able to listen in on the experiences of the previous ceremony from the American group that was there.  One woman wasn't able to be there, because she was still
recovering from the ceremony the day before, which apparently hit her hard.  I heard tales telling of spider webs, jaguars (a particularly good sign), lights, and some that had no visions at all.  Some experienced quite a bit of pain, and one man in particular apparently was a "moaning cow" the entire ceremony.

Everyone kept on asking me if I was ready, and how was I supposed to know?  But I was as ready as I could be, without knowing what to expect.

We did a light fast that day, eating fruit for breakfast, and a noodle soup at lunch, and then nothing after.  We relaxed most of the day, and one
woman instructed me that she usually rested up before the ceremony, which was set to happen at 8.

As darkness descended, around 6pm, I made my way back to my room to do some meditation, to ask my spirit guides to take care of me, and do what I could to be in the most positive, clean space possible.  I definately didn't want to have a bad experience.  I was anxious to get started, and sat outside in the rain, connecting with the forest around me, and saw little lights dancing in the trees above me.  I thought I had already started hallucinating!  But, I found out later that it was the fireflies.  I took it as a welcome omen.

I made my way back to the cabin, calm and peaceful.  Some of the other women asked me if I was ready, and then helped me realize that I was not.  I needed to get dressed in white, take my flashlight and water, and toilet paper, and a hankerchief "because you don't know where your nose ends and the snot begins".  I was also told to make sure everything was readily accessible, because you wouldn't be able to fiddle around with much.  I didn't understand that then, but boy I figured that out later.

We made our way to the temple, which was a dirt floor, a roof, a table at one end with shamanic stuff, and benches on all four sides.  Don Francisco, the Shaman, indicated where I was to sit.  I marked where the nearest exit was, and also was instructed when I threw up, to turn around and lean over the bench to the outside.  We sat in silence, boys on one side, girls on the other, as the preparation began.

Don Francisco blew smoke on all the instruments and ayahuasca, and then came around to each one of us, blowing smoke on our chakras to purify us.  Later he came around and put Florida Water (a oily floral water) on our heads.  One by one he called each of us, as he poured our doses of Ayahuasca in a coconut shell cup.  The first guy who went (the "moaning cow") took his dose and immediately started gagging.  I began to prepare myself that this would taste like slug snot or horses shit or god knows what.

Eventually it came around to me, and I held the cup in my hand, thinking what my question was that I wished to have answered.  I chugged it back, and found it wasn't that foul at all, tasted a bit like coffee and cigarettes.  I returned to my seat, wondering how long it would take before it started to take effect, and how long until I started throwing up.

Once everyone was served, the candles were blown out, and we sat in the darkness in silence.  It was probably a good half hour before  anything started happening to me, and I listened to the men already
effected.  One, Mario, a Peruvian guest, began violently throwing up, and whimpering, and it certainly sounded like he was NOT doing good.  At some point, other people had to go over to try to help him. I also found out later that he thought he had a knife in his hand, and was "stabbing" himself all over his torso.  Yikes.

I sat in the darkness, ready, waiting.  The shaman began singing the icaros, songs which help you through your visions, different songs for different things.  This icaros would accompany us through the night, with short pauses between them.

And then it began, and it was almost kind of funny to me, that the beginning was just a picture of the stereotyped 70s LSD pictures.  There was a kaliedoscope of colors in front of my eyes, and nausea
churning away in my stomach.  My brain seemed like it was melting away, like it wasn't that I was just going to hallucinate, but my whole sense of self was going to be shoved to the side. 

I turned around to position myself over the bench to purge, and thought, what the hell have I done?  I started freaking out, it wasn't just painful for throwing up, the scary part was I could tell I was losing control of my consciousness, and I really didn't like that.  I wanted to stop, but I knew that I was going to be like this for hours.  I told myself
there was NO WAY I was doing this again.

I began throwing up, and when I say throwing up, you are probably thinking about what it is like when you have the stomach flu.  Oh no, that is pretty pleasant compared.  This felt like something was reaching
inside of you, and pulling every internal organ out through your mouth.  And then some.  In front of me, in my visions, I could see the figure of a man, reaching out his arms to help me throw up.  Then, I
felt churning in my belly, and thought maybe I needed to go to the bathroom. 

I stumbled around, because your body feels like it encased in cement, and it takes a herculean effort to move, but you know you NEED to move.  Around me, as I stumbled out of the temple, was a group of people (in my vision) and I wanted to reach out to grab on to one
of them to help me.  I was in such pain, so miserable, and all these damn colors in front of me made it quite hard to see.  I found my way to a tree, and grabbed onto it, hoping I could draw some strength from it.  No such luck.  Then I remembered how many people had mentioned lying down on the ground in their pain, so I thought I'd give it a try.  I could barely hold myself up anyway.  So down I went.

Oh boy, did that feel good.  I mean, it felt great.  I suddenly felt so much better, and thought it would be just fine if I stayed there.  And then I felt this biting on my chin, and another biting on my cheek.
And then I thought, maybe this isn't the best idea.  I really didn't want to move, but figured that lying on the ground in the darkness of the Amazon might not be the safest thing.  After lecturing myself that I had
to keep myself safe, I dragged myself up and made my way back to my seat, deciding that I didn't need to go to the bathroom after all.

No sooner had I gotten back then I needed to purge again.  I tried to see it as energy purifying like others had told me.  How purging is seen is to be cleaning your energy, and now, looking back, I do agree, though at the time I just thought it was something they said to make it okay that you had to vomit.  The people that seemed to have the most crap in their lives were also the one who vomited the most. In any case, at the time, that didn't matter a whit to me.  I began talking to someone, my guide, or the plant, I'm not sure.  I told them just to take what they wanted I just wanted to rest.  I hung onto the back of the bench, as everything seemed to melt beneath me, and I listened to the chorus of others vomiting with me. 

I just wanted to rest, I gave up.  I surrendered, completely.  And you know what?  That actually worked. Once I stopped fighting, and just decided to go along for the ride, everything became much easier.  I curled up on the padded bench, finally done with the vomiting (I finally told "them" that I didn't have any more to give, and I guess they decided to listen to me).

Then the visions really began, and so did the talking. While most people kept pretty quiet (except for a few moaners and Kevin, who we'll get to later), I talked and talked and talked, though quietly.  Big shock with me, huh, that I can't shut up! 

There was a man that I was talking with, my boyfriend/lover or something.  He kept telling me that he loved me, and I kept telling him that I loved him, and the love really was pouring out of me.  I told him
yes, I was his woman, and we were going to get married, and have kids.  But I told him, not now, we aren't going to have kids now.  We flirted with each other, and I said he was a flirt, and I was a flirt
(later, I wondered if anyone, especially the 2 sober people, wondered about me babbling on about flirting), and that sex was for people who loved each other.  And then he began to transform me.  He turned me into a bird, into a serpent, he put me on top of the mountains, and told me I was a queen.  I was inside the belly of a whale, curled up between two of the ribs.  Everything happened so quickly.  Then I was
everything, I was the world.  I knew everything, and I knew nothing.  Lastly, he showed me white birds, doves, and two swans on a lake, and then looking up, he was there, with 2 huge white wings.  And all this
time, love was pouring out of me.

Then, I finally realized that I didn't need to keep giving him all this love and energy, focusing so much of my attention on him, that it wasn't getting me anywhere.  I realized I didn't need to do that, that I could just be myself, and I didn't need to get wrapped up in this guy.  So, I turned all my love to myself, and to everyone around me, and he stepped out of my experiences.

My visions began to calm down, though I still was learning things on a spiritual level.  What it felt like was that if you have your body, mind, and soul, the mind being the "I", the ego, and that part is pushed away, and your body is pretty out of it, so it is just the soul part of your body.  My soul was so blissful, happy, full of love for everyone.  I knew that I was complete, that I didn't need anything else, and that I knew everything I needed to know, and didn't have anything to conquer.  I knew that I could do anything I wanted, become everything I wanted, that everything was open to me.  I was everyone's mother,
and daughter, and sister, and wife.  I can't say it enough, I just felt so much love.  I imagine that it is similar to when people have near death experiences, and say they felt such tremendous joy and love.  It was beautiful, and I kept saying that "its beautiful, everything is beautiful, thank you so much, thank you for everything".

I became aware of the others around me.  Karen, the girl sitting next to me, had been moaning, and the leader of the group (who himself was a shaman), had to come over and take care of her.  I wanted to help her, but knew that he could help her more than I could.  So, eventually she laid across our laps, and I felt like he and I were her parents.

Kevin, one of the other members of the group, drew quite a bit of attention.  He apparently had his pants around his ankles, and was calling out for help, because nothing was coming out.  "Why isn't anything coming out?  I don't understand!"  And he kept asking
if he could be excused "May I be excused please?".  So, I told him, sure, you could be excused.  But he kept asking, so I said "why do you need to be excused", or "no".  He didn't really pay any attention.  And then again "can somebody help me please?"  I could see/know that it was important not to help him, because he needed to figure out that he
was strong enough to help himself.  In my mind's eye, I saw him on a cliff in a barren wilderness surrounded by mountains, so scared, and just a little boy.  I realized he needed to accept that he was a little boy,
and then realize that there wasn't anything to be afraid of, that really he was surrounded by beauty.

And then the Shaman came over and asked me how I was (and I was impressed I could speak Spanish in this state), and I beamed at him, and told him that I was wonderful, that I was clean.  I felt so clean and
pure.  He gave me a hug, and then, just like that, I was completely sober.  For my first time, that was pretty amazing, because by that point the only other people who were clear headed were the ones that had been doing it for 15 years or more.

After a bit more time, the ceremony concluded, at around 2 in the morning, and I helped get everyone home. 

The next day, when we discussed our visions, the Shaman told me that the plants (that made up the brew) liked me, and saw me as a daughter.  And that he saw that there were many doors before me, with windows over them, and I had to look through the windows, and
figure out which door I was supposed to go through.

He also said that I was supposed to "diet the plants" which he said was good, since I was a bit gordita.

Not that again.

-Jillian
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A path in the Amazon
 
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My own hut in the Amazon
So there I was.  In the jungle.  My bags found their way to the room I would be staying in for the first week, in one of the cabins that I would share with the group of American's that were there for the week.  There was a hammock on the front porch, which was wonderful, if frequently occupied. 

My room had a bed and mosquito netting, along with a rustic table.  On my bed there was no pillow, sheet, or blanket.  I ended up having to wad my jacket up for a pillow (though after the Americans left, I grabbed on of theirs) and cover myself with some of my shirts. Being that it was quite warm, I wasn't in desperate need of a blanket, but it did get a bit chilly once it got around to 1 am.

I was quite surprised with the jungle, I don't know, I guess I expected something a little more Tarzan.  Of course, I wasn't deep deep into the jungle, it was only a little way from the main road, and not to far from the largest city in the Amazon. 

One thing that struck me was that walking through the jungle was kind of like walking through the forest in Oregon, it had that same damp earth smell.  As a result, I felt much more at home here than I did up in
Cusco.  Of course, the forest wasn't exactly the same, there were different types of plants, and much more wildlife.  And vicious mosquitoes. 

At the main building where we got the food, I always was encountering some little creatures.  There was a cat and a dog (I was amazed the cat was still alive and hadn't become someone's food).  There were also
several macaws, who would shout out "Hola" and laugh.  But the best part is watching them climb up the chairs with their beaks, and they would sit there and visit with you as you ate your meal.  Sometimes they would even walk down the middle of the table, dipping in to whatever food or water they found.

They also had some pet monkeys there, they kept in a little cage, which was kind of sad to me.  One time, Juanita, the cook, was walking by, and there on her shoulder was hanging this little monkey that was
probably about four or five inches big, the smallest monkey in the jungle.  It stared at me with its little round eyes as I tried to pet it (unsuccessfully).

I did see a snake one day as I was walking down one of the paths, probably about 3 to 4 feet long, but it slithered away from me pretty quickly, and I was happy it was the only one I saw there.

The butterflies were beautiful.  My favorite had red on the lower part of the wing, and then the upper part of the wing was transparent, and made me think of fairies.  The dragonflies were incredible too, and I
saw one that was a good 6 inches!  I also enjoyed the fireflies, winking on and off.

My favorite was one day when I was sitting in my hut (because in the second half of my time there I moved into a hut deeper in the jungle, alone, only with nature), I heard a noise, and turned around and looked
out my door.  There, on the tree right at the edge of my porch, hung a little creature, who quickly scampered away at my gaze.  I quickly went outside, and looked up into the trees, and there was a huge family of them, and they made little chirping noises.  I thought they looked like a cross between a squirrel and a monkey, and, as it turned out, they were
monkeys.  A little family that roamed around the place.

I never did see a sloth though :(

Most of my time was spent swinging in the hammock, staring off into the forest, or reading, or thinking.  Lots of reading and thinking.  It was quite humid, though not as hot as I expected, though who knows, maybe I just adapted to it.  The humidity was the worst, my clothes were always slightly damp, my backpack became covered with mildew, and all my clothes stank.  Anything cardboard I had became floppy, and my books got wavy from the dampness.

And, thanks to the humidity, and the frequent rain, the mosquitoes were everywhere.  I had brought lots of long sleeved clothing, to protect myself.  Uh huh, like the mosquitoes really cared about that.  I was
bit everywhere, EVERYWHERE, except my head.  I had bites on my feet, on my belly, back, and even my butt. I constantly itched.  Several people said, oh, the mosquitoes here aren't that bad.  I haven't been
bitten at all.  Well, I guess I'm just extraspecial.  I was taking B vitamins, and wasn't eating any sugar, not even fruit.  I was even drinking garlic plant water!  I think that I was their favorite person of
all there. 

I tell you, the two things I am the happiest about getting away from Peru are the men and the mosquitoes. And, I put them in the same category, cause there isn't too much difference between the two.

-Jillian
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Fellow visitors. On the left, the shaman's apprentice from San Francisco, on the right, a guest from Switzerland
 
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Don Francisco, the Shaman
As the ground fell further and further from underneath my seat as I sat on the ancient Boeing 747 (realizing where American planes end up when they "die" in America), after waiting for 3 hours for the  departure, I prepared myself for whatever it was that I would face in the next segment of my trip. 

For now I was about to embark on the aspect that I was the most excited about- spending two weeks with a Peruvian Shaman.  I didn't know what to expect, except that I would be in the Amazon, and that there would be Ayahuasca ceremonies, which is a shamanic medicine
made from a root, that gives you spiritual hallucinations, and makes you vomit and crap your pants.  Lovely.  But, I wanted to experience this type of earth centered ancient spirituality, and see what it had to offer.

I arrived in Iquitos, a noisy, bustling town crouched on the Amazon, at about 10 o'clock at night.  The heat and humidity washed over me, as I walked across the tarmac to meet whoever it was that was going to pick me up.  Being the only white person in the crowd, it was very easy for the man to figure out that I was the Gringa he was supposed to meet for Sachamama (the name of the place I was going). 

I smiled, and tried to be quite friendly with this guy, who seemed rather off-putting and he left me to wait for my bags while he visited with some of the other guys working at the airport.  I began to get
concerned, if this guy was from Sachamama, I had hoped he would be open and helpful. 

We collected my bags, and him and another guy pushed my bags over to a phone, where he told me to give him money to make a call, and that I was supposed to tip the guy who had pushed my bags 20 feet.  I hadn't asked for the help, and certainly was capable of maneuvering my luggage across the room.  I figured the culture was different on this side of the Andes, and felt like I had to trust this guy from Sachamama to help me adapt to it.  So, not knowing how much to tip, I pulled out 3 soles, which is about $1, and is the price of a cab ride, so I figured it was enough.  The guy looked at the money disgusted, and then looked at my guide.  I looked at my guide as well, and asked him how much I was supposed to tip?  10 soles, he told me.

10 soles, whoah, that seemed like a lot of money to me, and began to grow wary.  I handed it over, as the guide continued to try call Sachamama to let them know I had arrived.  Not getting an answer, they finally gave up, and ushered me outside to a cab.

I sat in the taxi, crowded full now with three men, as they discussed where they were going to go, since they hadn't been able to get a hold of Sachamama, and we zipped off into the night, passing motorcycles and beat up buses.  I felt a little odd, being the only woman in this car with 3 men that I didn't even know, and how safe was this, but had no choice but to trust that I would be all right.  At least, I was happy to
be in the Amazon.

The guide quickly told me that he needed a tip, as we pulled up to a gas station.  20 soles he told me.  WHAT??!  20 soles!  In Peru, that is like 20 dollars!  I thought that was a bit crazy, and had certainly figured out that this guy was NOT looking out for my best interests.  They began to hustle me out of the taxi, pointing that I was supposed to get on this bus/van that was waiting, and had other people in it.

Now I was a bit freaked out.  Why do I need to go on a bus?  Now your dumping me on a bus??!  I didn't know what to do, and had to just trust in fate that I would be okay.  I got on the bus, that had two women in it, who smiled at me warmly.  I prepared to get my 20 soles out for the guy, and one of the women quickly told me that I didn't need to pay, that they would take care of it.  When he said 20 soles, I noticed she
did not agree, and handed him 10, which I believe was to pay for him and the taxi.

The men got back in the taxi, and now here I was on the bus with these women, and I didn't know what the hell was going on, but at least realized they seemed to be more trustworthy than the last.  The younger one introduced herself as Don Francisco's daughter, and then things began to fall into place, as they apologized for being late.  It seems that they had someone from the airport meet me, as my plane was late, and the guy who met me had nothing to do with Sachamama.  That was a relief.  I still was a bit pissed off though, that he was trying to take advantage of me.  If I had been more aware of the situation, I would have been able to figure out that 10 soles was the "stupid gringo" price.

Ah well.  In any case, I was brought to my rather rustic hotel room (where I would spend the night before heading out to the jungle the next morning), with mildew on the walls, a ceiling fan over head, and
a bathroom where the shower was just a shower head in the wall of the tiny bathroom- no curtains or marked off area in the floor-, where I could essentially sit on the toilet while taking a shower and brushing my teeth in the sink.

The next morning I left my room to continue on my journey to Sachamama, and was met by Don Francisco, the Shaman.  I was surprised, as I was expecting an 80 year old man, but he was about 45, thin, wearing shorts and a t-shirt.  Before we left, he said wait,
you have to pay for the room.  Oh no, hear we go again, ripping off the gringa, I thought.  I told him I thought the hotel was included in the price.  After all, I said, I didn't pay for the hotel in Lima.  He looked a bit confused, and then said, oh, okay, and paid the 30 soles himself.

We jumped in the van, and he told me we had to take a stop in the belen market, to buy somethings for me.  We ended up purchasing some hand rolled cigarettes and some Florida water, both of which I was to offer as a gift on the altar during the ceremony.  That was fine
with me, and only about 10 soles, but when he told me that I needed to buy a hammock too, I was a bit disturbed.  My defenses were already up from the night before, and why did I need to buy a hammock, weren't there beds?  So he said, no, I didn't have to buy a hammock if I didn't want to.  So we made our way out of the crazy market, and continued back to the van.

After an hour ride away from Iquitos, we pulled over next to a sign that said "Sachamama".  Out they pulled the bags, and begain to make their way down this wide trail that lead off into the jungle.  I followed,
realizing that I guess the van didn't go to the buildings.

And we walked, and we walked.  Up hills, down hills.  I'm not sure exactly how far, but I'd say about 20 minutes, which was far enough for me, with the heat of the day beating down, and the humidity trying to choke me.  Eventually we came to some boards which formed steps up the dirt hill, and ended up in a few steps into a very Amazon looking building.  I saw a few other white guys standing around, drinking tea, and realized I had finally reached Sachamama.

-Jillian
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Sachamama
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Me in the Amazon!
 
Finally, I made my way to Lima.  After being picked up and transported to a lovely hotel, I rested in my room, watched TV, and tried to recover myself from the whole Gerald experience.  Eventually, I made my way downstairs to have a bite to eat at the hotel restaurant.  I asked the bartender/waiter for a menu, and noticed how very attractive he was.  I then reminded myself that I had had enough  problems with men, and didn't need anymore.  Nevertheless, I couldn't help but smile at him as he passed.  By the end of my dinner, we had quite a conversation, and agreed to meet up when he was finished with his shift.

I was a bit wary, but Eduardo turned out to be more respectful than Gerald.  However, I doubt it took an hour before he was asking me to be his girlfriend.

What is this, don't Peruvians believe in getting to know a person??  He's a nice guy, but I don't need a boyfriend in another country, though he said he would wait for me as long as it took.

Ai ai ai.  I gave him a hug and kiss goodnight, and told him I would e-mail him from Iquitos.

Well, hey, if anyone needs a husband or boyfriend, they are ripe for the picking here!

Jillian
 
Well, I found out "loverboy's" name, and it´s Gerald.  He is not on my list of favorite people, however.

After my e-mail, I had given it some thought, and knew that I needed to calm things down with him, as I was getting a bit uncomfortable and overwhelmed.  So, at 2 o´clock, when I met up with him, I told him that we needed to talk.  I told him this was all too overwhelming, and that we needed to be just friends.

I don't think he got the message, however, because the rest of the day, every two minutes, he wanted to hold me and kiss me.  I pulled away quite a bit, though was greatful to have his help during the shopping
expedition, as he bargained much better than I could've done.

Later, he wanted to go back to my room, but I insisted we go for a walk and get something to eat.  Once at the resteraunt, when I didn't want to sit and cuddle with him, he pouted, and we sat in silence until the food came.  Fabulous.

After dinner, we walked around a bit, and then went to a local dance club.  I had a great time dancing with him, he really is a great dancer.  We salsa'd, turning and twisting, and thought that this was probably the
best time I'd spent with him.  I did notice that he was trying to get me drunk, though it was only on weak beer, and I wasn't too worried about it.

Afterwards, we returned to my room to talk, but rather ended up arguing.  He kept trying to pus things with me, and I made it clear that I just wanted to talk and hang out.  He proceeded to storm out, stopped at the door to tell me to have a good flight.  I told him I thought it was quite interesting, how he professed his love for me, yet didn't want to be with me if it just meant talking.

And on the argument went, about how much I had changed, and how I was much different than he had thought, and how he was going to forget me.  I told him I was the same person, but how could he expect to know someone so quick, and to rememer that next time before he gave his heart away the first day! He told me he would always stay away from American girls because we are crazy.

Like I care if he is with an American or not?  He kept repeating it, and I finally told him he was obviously just saying it to try to hurt me, and I really didn't care.

Anyway, many words were exchanged, and finally he calmed down and wanted to spend some time with me.  I was a bit wary, because he had reacted so strongly, and then all of a sudden, was peachy?  I knew I was ready to leave the next day.

He then became very interested in exploring through my books and tapes  He listened to my music, and, as I was quite tired, finally left.  I walked him to the door of my hotel, but he then realized he forgot
something, and went back to my room.  I let him go, then the thought flashed that maybe he would steal something, and I should go with him (duh).

He came out of my room before I got there, and was in and out quickly.  I walked him to the door, kissed him goodbye, and promised him I would wait for him the next morning, so he could go to the airport with me.

I returned to my room, and immediately checked where I had put my money.  Sure enough, it was gone.  I looked around for it, but knew in my gut that he had taken it, and sure enough, I never found it, and he never showed up the next morning.

I slept poorly, and was so nervous that I threw up, though it might have also been because of the first dose of my malarial medicine.  I should have blown the guy off as sson as I realized he was nutso.  I guess I
was just too bored and lonely, because normally I am not so stupid.  I comforted myself with the thought that $50 wasn't so bad to lose, and at least I still had all my credit cards.

Still, I just felt so used by the whole thing.

And so, happily, I left Cusco behind.

-Jillian
 
Oh goodness.  I certainly have myself in a pickle now. That whole date thing has gotten a little out of hand.

I met this guy (who I still can't remember his name, and am now too embarrassed to ask, oops), the first time I went out in Cusco, the first week, when I was hanging out with Cassandre (the girl from Canada) and a bunch of people from Germany.  He came up and asked one of the girls to dance, and she pointed him my way. I danced one dance with him, and then excused myself.


Well, apparently I made quite an impression, because he told me ever since, he had been looking for me in the Plaza de Armas.  He works for one of the clubs, passing out the little fliers.  I ran into him again
earlier this week, when I went out with Jessica and the other girl from Switzerland, and then ran into him the next day, when he asked me out on an afternoon date, to the museum and the zoo.  That was on Friday.

Since that date, he has wanted to spend almost every moment with me, and constantly tells me how beautiful I am, and calls me his love, and constantly wants to be holding my hand or kissing me, or whatnot.  Now, that is all very flattering.  I thought at first that he was just being a little over-exagerating, you never know with these foreign men.  But I realized yesterday, that he quite believes that he is in love with me.

But not only that!  He wants to marry me, and has already planned out how many children we are going to have, and how much time I am going to spend here before we get married, and then move to the US, where he will be a Civil Engineer.

Oh boy.  When I told him that 2 days was a little to early for me to decide whether or not I was going to marry someone, he seemed a bit upset.  And later, when I called an early end to the evening, he told me he loved me, and asked me if I loved him.  Um, its been 2 days??  When I told him that that was a little bit too early for me, that it takes time to grow into something, he seemed really quite hurt.

Oh goodness.  He even wanted to meet up with me at 9 this morning, and I pushed it back to 2.  And I am really appreciating my time alone.  He's a nice guy, and attractive, but...  This is just a bit too much for me.  He doesn't even know me!  I think he has some image that he has created in his head, some story, and is bent on pushing me into that role.

So, today I think I'm going to have to draw the line with this guy.  Thank goodness I'm leaving Cusco tomorrow! 

ai ai ai!

Jillian