That is your final decision? Your sure about that? All right, lock it in!
Morocco!
Correct!
So tomorrow, Friday 25th Sept, we head to Africa (o:
The plans at present are...
- reach the Sahara
- find a camel
- go camel riding
- get a turban and some local gears (baggy pants etc)
- enjoy the end of the Ramadan
We have also been offered work again with Steffen in Stuttgart this time. Work begins early November and will last until we find a boat to sail us to the Americas before the winter kicks in.
Sep 25, 2008
Sep 23, 2008
What to do, what to do?
We were sitting with the Austrians at Annalee's place talking with the English guy Andrew. A guy we had met a few days earlier and had entertained us with talks of energy spots, drinking your own pee to beat cancer, u.f.o's and so forth. An interesting fellow to say the least.
Anyway, so I was listening to him explain to Micky about how he was headed to Morocco and how he was going about it. Sounded cool. And simple. He then explained why he was going at this time; end of the Ramadan and season for when Hash was often made in earnest. And then a line of thought and a quiet debate began within...
What are we doing in Beneficio? Nothing much really.
What was keeping us there? A lack of plan of what to do next.
How much longer could we stay? Our house was wanted in a week's time...
What was the Ramadan? A Jewish fesitval perhaps? Worth finding out about in any case.
Which is cheaper; Europe or Africa? Africa by heeeeaps!
Which is cooler; Europe or Africa? Africa by heeeeaps!
So why not go to Morocco?!
I suggested it to Sam and Jo and the reactions were mixed. Sam was very enthusiastic... but he was also very stoned. Was he sincere? Jo was all silence. What was he thinking? What will they decide? Let's sleep on it was the final plan...
Anyway, so I was listening to him explain to Micky about how he was headed to Morocco and how he was going about it. Sounded cool. And simple. He then explained why he was going at this time; end of the Ramadan and season for when Hash was often made in earnest. And then a line of thought and a quiet debate began within...
What are we doing in Beneficio? Nothing much really.
What was keeping us there? A lack of plan of what to do next.
How much longer could we stay? Our house was wanted in a week's time...
What was the Ramadan? A Jewish fesitval perhaps? Worth finding out about in any case.
Which is cheaper; Europe or Africa? Africa by heeeeaps!
Which is cooler; Europe or Africa? Africa by heeeeaps!
So why not go to Morocco?!
I suggested it to Sam and Jo and the reactions were mixed. Sam was very enthusiastic... but he was also very stoned. Was he sincere? Jo was all silence. What was he thinking? What will they decide? Let's sleep on it was the final plan...
In a little more detail...
We headed down at nightfall not really knowing what to expect. Jo has some sauna experience in Germany but, between us, that was about it.
We had carried stones with us thinking they might be wanted but our arrival was welcomed by a huge fire in which stones were already slowly taking on a new hue - a rich fiery red. We sat for a couple of hours while the flames burnt themselves down around these stones, wood being added over and over and then around midnight we were told it was time to begin.
I removed my clothes and then was asked to stand in a circle around the fire. Palms together with those on each side of me, I listened as a few of the more practiced practitioners began to chant. Others who weren't taking place just sat on and watched (kind of weird and a little disconcerting at first). The chanting slowly reached a crescendo before falling away and after a quick bow to the flames (not me), I joined a line with maybe 20 others headed for the tent.
The size of a small igloo, it was a domed wooden structure covered with tarpaulin and blankets. Inside was a floor made of straw maybe an inch thick and central to it all was a shallow hole perhaps a foot deep and 3 feet wide.
Fourth in line, I followed a young chick in through a small flapped opening at the front and, following her example, moved crab like around the hole in the centre from the left to the right. I had been told to keep this up until I bumped shoulders with the next person where I was to then stop, knees drawn up and wait for the tent to fill.
So wait I did. Squashed in relative silence - considering there were maybe 20 other people in this small space with me - I waited in true suspense for what was to come next.
It was to be heat. Dry heat. And lots of it. Hot stones were brought in one at a time and thrown into the shallow pit. Each welcomed like another being into our midst with a spoken word. They crackled orange with sparks flashing on their surface. Each a piece of orange sky with golden stars entombed within. The heat given off was fantastic. Waves of it would reach out in search of your body to find and steal away with any trace of cold or moisture you were silly enough to reveal to it. Then the door closed, the night was shut out and we were alone (my hands covering my face as the intense heat beat down upon me).
A quiet chant begun. A blessing to the sun and moon? On each increase in volume a ladle of cool water was thrown onto the stones and a wave of steam, feeling like it was straight from the bowels of the earth would engulf us.
Hotter and hotter it rose around and through us. It made the dry heat seem cool. My breath would catch in my throat; too afraid to come out. Sweat appeared from nowhere and soon was sweating itself. My head lowered, my mind screamed and my sweat just kept coming. I sat, thankful I had drunk so much before entering.
4 times we entered and the process was repeated. You would sit, at times fighting horribly an urge to bust through the back of the tent and out into the fresh air. When a pail of water was thrown on it was often all I could do to remain. To breath was a challenge fantastic! My hands lay on the ground - really helped to cool - and with each addition of water they would fly to my face to cover my mouth and try and help with breathing. I cannot relate the sheer intensity of the heat as it hit you.
When finally it was enough - and we only lasted out the whole of the first session - you would declare "door, door, DOOR!" and then crawl out into the night. And so refreshing was it! A hose of cool water over your head. A mouthful of the most wonderful water ever pouring down your throat. Life was once more bliss.
Then you would forget the heat that was and enter again, only to discover once more the heat that is!
Oh, and afterwards, I had the most itchy arse in the world, no, the universe! Hay allergies plus sweaty bum on straw floor plus heat = itchy, ITCHY, arse (o:
We had carried stones with us thinking they might be wanted but our arrival was welcomed by a huge fire in which stones were already slowly taking on a new hue - a rich fiery red. We sat for a couple of hours while the flames burnt themselves down around these stones, wood being added over and over and then around midnight we were told it was time to begin.
I removed my clothes and then was asked to stand in a circle around the fire. Palms together with those on each side of me, I listened as a few of the more practiced practitioners began to chant. Others who weren't taking place just sat on and watched (kind of weird and a little disconcerting at first). The chanting slowly reached a crescendo before falling away and after a quick bow to the flames (not me), I joined a line with maybe 20 others headed for the tent.
The size of a small igloo, it was a domed wooden structure covered with tarpaulin and blankets. Inside was a floor made of straw maybe an inch thick and central to it all was a shallow hole perhaps a foot deep and 3 feet wide.
Fourth in line, I followed a young chick in through a small flapped opening at the front and, following her example, moved crab like around the hole in the centre from the left to the right. I had been told to keep this up until I bumped shoulders with the next person where I was to then stop, knees drawn up and wait for the tent to fill.
So wait I did. Squashed in relative silence - considering there were maybe 20 other people in this small space with me - I waited in true suspense for what was to come next.
It was to be heat. Dry heat. And lots of it. Hot stones were brought in one at a time and thrown into the shallow pit. Each welcomed like another being into our midst with a spoken word. They crackled orange with sparks flashing on their surface. Each a piece of orange sky with golden stars entombed within. The heat given off was fantastic. Waves of it would reach out in search of your body to find and steal away with any trace of cold or moisture you were silly enough to reveal to it. Then the door closed, the night was shut out and we were alone (my hands covering my face as the intense heat beat down upon me).
A quiet chant begun. A blessing to the sun and moon? On each increase in volume a ladle of cool water was thrown onto the stones and a wave of steam, feeling like it was straight from the bowels of the earth would engulf us.
Hotter and hotter it rose around and through us. It made the dry heat seem cool. My breath would catch in my throat; too afraid to come out. Sweat appeared from nowhere and soon was sweating itself. My head lowered, my mind screamed and my sweat just kept coming. I sat, thankful I had drunk so much before entering.
4 times we entered and the process was repeated. You would sit, at times fighting horribly an urge to bust through the back of the tent and out into the fresh air. When a pail of water was thrown on it was often all I could do to remain. To breath was a challenge fantastic! My hands lay on the ground - really helped to cool - and with each addition of water they would fly to my face to cover my mouth and try and help with breathing. I cannot relate the sheer intensity of the heat as it hit you.
When finally it was enough - and we only lasted out the whole of the first session - you would declare "door, door, DOOR!" and then crawl out into the night. And so refreshing was it! A hose of cool water over your head. A mouthful of the most wonderful water ever pouring down your throat. Life was once more bliss.
Then you would forget the heat that was and enter again, only to discover once more the heat that is!
Oh, and afterwards, I had the most itchy arse in the world, no, the universe! Hay allergies plus sweaty bum on straw floor plus heat = itchy, ITCHY, arse (o:
Sweats
Last night was the equinox. So here in Beneficio they welcomed in the new season with a sweat lodge for those who chose.
We chose.
Think...
30 naked people standing around a campfire chanting.
30 naked people sitting around a pile of hot stones in a tent chanting.
30 naked people sitting around a pile of hot stones chanting while water is thrown on.
30 naked sweaty people sitting around a pile of hot stones chanting in the steam.
30 naked sweaty people gasping for breath outside on the grass.
Repeat 4 times.
You have a sweat lodge (o:
We chose.
Think...
30 naked people standing around a campfire chanting.
30 naked people sitting around a pile of hot stones in a tent chanting.
30 naked people sitting around a pile of hot stones chanting while water is thrown on.
30 naked sweaty people sitting around a pile of hot stones chanting in the steam.
30 naked sweaty people gasping for breath outside on the grass.
Repeat 4 times.
You have a sweat lodge (o:
BIG Lodge
So the Big lodge works like this.
It is not the communal kitchen as we had thought. This is Casa Maya and is further up the hill. The big lodge is more a chill out zone. You can eat here but it is expected that if you do, you should bring enough for all and offer it around.
Most days and especially nights, you will find the big lodge full of people. Mostly stoned. Joints, chillums, pipes and bongs get passed around continuously with the same thought as food. Share with all and accept from all - if you want that is.
It can be a nice place to relax at night, a good place to relax if stoned and at night a good place to listen to drums, guitar, singing and flute. These guys are good! But conversation is better to be had elsewhere as stoned people just do not have it going on in that department.
And since our return from Morroco a huge teepee has been put up around the circle so it is now all enclosed. Nice (o:
And if you sleep the night in the lodge, often you will awake with a tea or coffee sitting in front of you and a breakfast of fruit on offer. Generosity is the key to this place.
It is not the communal kitchen as we had thought. This is Casa Maya and is further up the hill. The big lodge is more a chill out zone. You can eat here but it is expected that if you do, you should bring enough for all and offer it around.
Most days and especially nights, you will find the big lodge full of people. Mostly stoned. Joints, chillums, pipes and bongs get passed around continuously with the same thought as food. Share with all and accept from all - if you want that is.
It can be a nice place to relax at night, a good place to relax if stoned and at night a good place to listen to drums, guitar, singing and flute. These guys are good! But conversation is better to be had elsewhere as stoned people just do not have it going on in that department.
And since our return from Morroco a huge teepee has been put up around the circle so it is now all enclosed. Nice (o:
And if you sleep the night in the lodge, often you will awake with a tea or coffee sitting in front of you and a breakfast of fruit on offer. Generosity is the key to this place.
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