Jan. 30, 2013

Jan. 27

I ended up taking a carito (shared car) yesterday from Maracaibo. My CS host, Jose Idrogo, took me to where these big, very old, American cars leave for the border and hooked me up with a young, wild driver. I got in the car with a grandma (abuella), her two grandsons, a woman, the driver´s companion/helper, and the driver. The car broke down 10 minutes from the Colombian border. We all piled into a small truck filled with about 18 people. Lots of indigenous people. That truck left me at the border.

I went through the process of leaving Venezuela in one building and entering Colombia in another building. I found a motorcycle that would take me to the bus station 20 minutes away in Maicao (a town that is being covered by plastic bags). Got another moto(rcycle) into Maicao and back so I could visit an ATM. A policeman with a machine gun helped me figure out how to get some money since I was having trouble using my card. $1 US = about 1,800 pesos. (Two oranges here cost 1,000 pesos on the street.)

Then, moto back to the bus station where my bus to Santa Marta left in 5 minutes. (Actually, it left 1-2 hour later than it was supposed to (normal here). The entire trip from Maracaibo took about 11 hours.

I am so glad I didn´t hitchhike. My CS host, Jose, in Maracaibo said it would be OK, but then he got an email from someone who said, no, I shouldn´t do it. It was a long way, and the transportation was wonderful (carito, truck, motos, and bus).

My Ventura friend, Rachel Uffer (who I met a few years ago on Couchsurfing in Ventura–I surfed her couch) met me at 7, after work, at a little bar I picked in Parque de los Novios (park of lovers/partners/engaged people/brides and grooms). I had two Colombian beers and then she was there. We went to her apartment (shared with 3 or 4 people who work in local restaurants); it´s in the city´s historic center (a large, wonderful part of this beach/tourist town). Later, out for beer (I had water) at two new bars that are across the narrow street from each other. Two friends of Rachel´s own them.

Jan. 28

Today I´m on my own as Rachel gets her visa stuff updated. She´s been here for six or eight months.

Having fun! Will soon figure out how to get into Panama cheaply.


Living in Dream Land, Fantasy Land = how I was living before Ayahuasca. The Ayahuasca shaman, taita Krispin, is my helper, my co-fighter in the battle against evil spirits.

Two children were at the Ayahuasca ceremony. They took the Ayahuasca.

My inner world is the Real World. The outer world is consensual reality, where we try to live in the material/physical world and enjoy it (or at least learn stuff).

Yesterday on the bus, in the carito, in the truck, and on the motos: tons of cows, horses, a few pigs, hoards of dogs-wandering around, free and happy, goats everywhere. And most of these animals were untethered and just wandering around.

Our carito hit a dog. It was unavoidable: the dog ran out in the road in front of us, and we hit it with a loud, sickening thud.

Lots of different kinds of bananas here apparently. I had platanos on the bus here: fried bananas with cheese. Muy rico!


I am into friendship and love now; not so much into sex (though I’ll still love it). When I told the Maracaibo guys, “I love sex” (and that I’d tried prostitution), they roared their approval.We were all in Jose’s car and going to the market; it was loud and extremely validating. They made me very happy.

I fall in love often. My latest Dream Guy is gay! That’s the first time THIS has happened. I am ready to let go of all the younger-woman bullshit about trying to be sexy.

It’s like I’m suddenly out of the competition for men and for sex. It was a race. I feel so much better to be out of it, and actually it wasn’t fast. It happened gradually, over about thirty years. As the veils gradually fell from my eyes, I began to see how silly the social games are.

A fantasy dominates much of material existence. Everything is symbolic, not real. It’s hard to maintain this illusion because the material world can not be spiritualized. This is a world of matter, of material and physical things and ideas. I am in the world, but I am not of the world. All of us Sentient Beings are just spirits who temporarily have physical bodies.

Do you know what opting out of the social games and fantasies means? It means I can just BE ME from now on. I’m not playing anymore. I’m taking all my toys and going home! Jajajaja.

My most comfortable times in public:

1.)     Hanging with about 6 Aspies in Boulder. We went to a toy store, then Whole Foods. We were rockin’. I was so comfortable because we are all so similar; and we are all so different from neuro-typicals. I could just be myself and marvel at how different it felt being in public with MY GROUP.

2.)     With the guys from Maracaibo: Jose, Roger, Hector and Francisco. It was like having some really great brothers and a strong, loving dad. (Jose was “Dad”.) I felt they supported me and liked me for who I really am. Roger is an Aspie, like me, though he doesn’t even know what Asperger Syndrome is. (I have been with so many self-declared Aspies by now that I recognize it when I see it.) I relate to him because he’s a computer geek. I am, too, because I love being online; I’m obviously not a computer genius though.

3.)     With the Ayahuasca group on a beautiful beach outside Cumana, Venezuela. An all-night ritual with Jean Luis, Susy, and about 25 other people. The taita (shaman) was Krispin from Putamayo, Colombia: Super-great guru. Everyone at the ceremony was a spiritual seeker. I felt great in that rarefied atmosphere!


Jan. 30

Doing lots of online work getting the trip into Panama set up. Rachel’s enthusiastic description of the 5-day ($350) cruise from Cartagena through the San Blas Islands hit me like the warm winds of Santa Marta. It is too seductive an idea to resist (and, comparing it to other options for crossing into Panama, it sounds very good indeed). I’m going to spend the cash and be good to myself.

An indigenous woman in the crowded back of the truck going to the Colombian border just pulled out her breast and nursed her baby. No shame; no ogling by men. A natural thing (which is what it is, of course).

Skateboarders here in Santa Marta. No street music and very little live music, I hear. You can drink alcohol on the street here in Santa Marta and in a few other towns (not Bogota) in Colombia.

Food trucks, food bikes, food stands, people on foot selling food (eg, coffee) here in Santa Marta. The town shuts down between noon and two pm because it’s so damn hot (but very pleasant). In Italy, I’ve heard that this is the time for sex. How nice.

No women cops here or women taxi drivers or women motorcyclists. And the society seems much more conservative than Jamaica. The women don’t wear the tight, tight pants or the very low-cut blouses here like they do in Jamaica.

I saw a blurb on the TV news (in Caracas or Maracaibo) saying action was being taken against some car company that, in its TV ad, shows a woman using sex appeal to get what she wants (a car?). Finally, we have gotten beyond this stage of women using sex appeal to get what they want. The heart leading the brain always leads a person to what they really need. Using the body (sex appeal) to get what one desires (instead of what one needs) is a lower stage in an individual’s and a society’s spiritual evolution.


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