Once again I need to attach a warning to this email – there are parts of this email which are graphic descriptions of things that may or may not be fiction – again I will let you decide.
When I left Brazil and headed for the US I did not think that there would be much that could outdo the experiences I had been through in Brazil. I have had a number of people ask me how my eyes and ears are doing, so I will address this first. As I write this email I cannot say that there has been any significant improvement in either, however I am also aware that healing takes time and both conditions have developed over a long period of time. What has changed, which is more important, is the way I see and experience the world and people around me and growing understanding of who I am and my place in the greater scheme of life. Can I express this in words to you now – probably not, change of this sort is always subtle.
I arrived in Dallas to spend a couple of weeks with my friend Israel. It was a peaceful and enjoyable thirteen days. I got a good amount of writing done, which I am very happy about. I spent some fantastic quality time with Israel and I got to spend some time with my friends from the company (Yum) that I have recently resigned from – catching up on all the office gossip. What a different perspective you have, when you are no longer a part of the structure of an organization. As an organization, Yum is way ahead of some many corporations in the world, and it was a privilege to have worked there.
In Dallas I was able to order and start reading a book that I had come across in Brazil, a book called “Love without End” by Glenda Green. It is a book that is changing my life with every sentence that I read, and I cannot recommend it highly enough.
I left Dallas on a gorgeous day headed to my next destination on this great adventure. I been very fortunate to have been selected by the airline for special security screening – my boarding pass having the SSSS written on it. In another time and another place this might have read SS – but let’s not make those comparisons to quickly. Although I will comment that America is rapidly losing the freedoms is so desperately craves. This involved get buzzed all over with a magic wand, have my carry on luggage hand searched and getting patted down – by a rather handsome looking security guard – so who was I to complain!!! I was amused when one of the security people encounter my portable hard drive (used for backups – 20yrs in IT have taught me a thing or two) and he tried to open it, there was a quizzical look on his face which bought me much joy – oh the little things that amuse.....
I arrived in Albuquerque on the 13th June, it was so fantastic to see Rudrani and Eddie again. I meet this couple, along with some other fantastic people when I was in Brazil last October. They live on the outskirts of Albuquerque, in an Adobe style house, on a mountain, with three wonderful dogs, Bodie a black Labrador cross, Jake a golden retriever (Jake is LOVE incarnate – amazing animal) and the newest addition to their family a 10 week old yellow lab by the name of Sita – she is a little terror, but will grow into a beautiful dog.
On my first day with Ed and Rudrani, they took me north of Albuquerque to the Jemez (pronounced Hey-mez) mountains. I cannot describe the beauty that is New Mexico. I will send photo’s but I can tell you now that they in no way do it justice. Albuquerque is located at an altitude of approximately 5000 feet (sorry cant do the metric conversion), it is High Desert, hot, very dry – no humidity, cold at night, and a beauty that can only be seen to be believed. Even at this altitude, mountains rise out of the desert floor and ascend to 10,000 feet or more, Mesa are common. A Mesa (Table in Spanish) is a like a hill that rises from the desert floor – but the top of the hill has been sheared off – so it is a flat area – thus the name Mesa. The area my wonderful hosts took me to, was red rock, I felt like I was visiting Uluru in central Australia. We encountered beautiful mountain streams, natural hot springs and caves, just to name a few of the things we saw on that day.
Much of the land is Indian reservations, and while there is great wealth in this state, as is always seems to be, it is accompanied by much poverty as well. I was surprised at the military presence in the state, but this in the home of Area 51 and Roswell !!. I mostly noticed this as we were flying into Albuquerque. The Indian nations, have socialised medicine, I believe this is the only experience of socialised medicine in the US. Many of the tribes have established casino’s, which fund the eduction and health of their tribes. It is wonderful to see them establish such control over there lives and destinies. America, like Australia, has treated its native people abhorrently, I think our Aboriginal people could learn a thing or two from the American Indians.
The second evening I was their, Rudrani organised a small dinner party with a couple of her friends who were interesting in hearing my Brazilian tale first hand. So been the Leo that I am, never one to refuse a willing audience, I regaled them with my fictional tale of life at the Casa, scissors up my nose and incisions on my chest etc etc.... It was a fun night.
A new friend of mine, Craig, from Fort Lauderdale, whom I meet while in Brazil, decided to join me in Albuquerque, he arrived on Wednesday and we spent a good amount of time together over the next week. Some shared experiences that I think neither of us will ever forgot, but I am getting ahead of myself. I had been told that while I was visiting Albuquerque, there was going to be a Gay Rodeo. Having never been to a Rodeo in my life, I was eager to attend one and the fact that it was a Gay Rodeo made it all the more fun. What is a Gay Rodeo I hear you ask.... Well it is much like any other Rodeo, with Steer riding, calf roping, Bronco riding, speed trials with horse and riders, steer roping and Bull riding at the end of the day. Amongst these regular Rodeo pursuits there was also an event in which the participants in teams of two, had to place a pair of underwear onto a goat, in the quickest possible time – all I can say is poor goat, another event which I think is unique to the Gay Rodeo – was a team of two attempting to tie a ribbon to the tale of a Steer . I found myself cheering for the animals the whole day – the ones that evaded the cowboys and cowgirls – where my hero’s and the Bulls always get the last laugh. The Rodeo was over two days, Saturday and Sunday – Craig and I decided that one day of Rodeo was more than sufficient.
On the Friday before the Rodeo we visited the Petroglyphs on the outskirt of Albuquerque (you know, I just love writing Albuquerque). For those who don’t know what a petroglyph is, its a carving of an object directly onto stone, usually done with another stone implement. There are amazing pictures of animals, people, creatures, things that look like spacecraft – I think there will be a couple of photo’s so have a gander.
Sunday we decided to drive to a small town called Taos, to see a church call the St Francis of Assisi church, which is mentioned in the book above. It is a church built entirely in the Adobe style and is truly beautiful. We had a late start to the day and arrived at the church around 3pm (2.5 hour drive from Albuquerque), we arrived at the church to witness the end of a Baptism – the church has a strict no photo’s policy – but as the baby(s) were baptised the priest told the congregation that they could take photo’s – so who were we to argue and we took advantage of the moment to take some photo’s of the inside of the church.
We headed into the main town of Taos, which is an art community and a tourist destination, providing services to a nearby ski resort. The town was experiencing a black out, so we decided to continue up to the ski resort to find a place to eat. As we drove into and up the mountain the beauty that surrounded us was truly breathtaking – as we climbed the mountain, the road followed a small fast flowing stream, we stopped to test the water, it was icy cold and some of the best tasting water I have ever had the pleasure of drinking. There was still snow on the tops of the mountains and we later discovered that there is a mountain lake, about a 2 mile hike from where we stopped for dinner.
The scenery was stunning, the pine trees were mixed with the fluttering fine green leaves of silver birch’s. The cliffs and rock walls exploded with shapes and form, almost coming to life as we drive the winding road to the ski village at the base of the mountain. The ski village was all but deserted and there was nothing open, we by chance noticed a sign that said ‘Restaurant Open’ and followed our noses. The road became a dirt track, which in winter is only open to four wheels drives... But it was not too bad and I drove my Buick like a 4 wheel drive anyway. We continued to ascend the mountain not knowing where it would end and eventually found our way to the end of the road. There was a ski lift and a wonderful log cabin building which contained a Bavarian restaurant. The setting was ideal, the scenery unbelievable, we sat on the deck and listened to the sound of gushing, rushing stream. Several people came down the mountain, from the lake hike – one couple exclaiming that they had seen a bear, up by the lake. The next time I am in Albuquerque I will be returning to beautiful spot, hike to the lake and seeking out that bear, to shot him with my camera.
After consuming an extraordinary meal, we headed back down the mountain, to make it to the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge in time for sunset. We arrived around 7:45 I think, the light in the sky was beautiful and there was a near full moon hanging silently over the mountains we had just come from. We spent a fair amount of time, viewing and photographing the beauty of the gorge and the surrounding. It is not quite as breath taking as the Grand Canyon – but certainly worth a long look. It was a long way down from the bridge to the raging torrent of the Rio Grande river below. The bridge itself was of steel construction and built in 1966, it was a beautiful structure itself and its builders had designed small viewing platforms at various spots along either side of the bridge – so that as you walked across the bridge you could step into an alcove and get a better view of the beauty below. We had been told that there were a number of suicides every year from the bridge and it was easy to see why and how – it was a long way down and it was very easy access over the rail. I personally was thinking it would make a great place to bungee jump from....
We spent a good hour in and around the bridge – marvelling at the beauty of creation, enjoying the setting of the sun, the rising of the moon and peacefulness of this almost deserted place.
We had parked on the easterly side of the bridge in a parking lot on the right side of the road, the parking lot was a large area of gravel, a fence ran down one side, protecting you from a field of sage scrub and there was a chain link fence preventing you from going over to the edge of the gorge at the end of the parking lot – beside the bridge.
As we stepped off the bridge, to return to our car, a small red car pulled into the parking lot, out of no where from behind it a blueish/white old ford truck appeared, driving at breakneck speed. The truck was coming directly for us with no sign of it slowing down. Craig who was about a foot or two in front of me came within 2 inches of being struck down by the truck, the rush of air and dust that the truck had create clogged our lungs. I watched with stunned amazement as the truck careened on past us heading directly for the chain fence. It struck the fence as one might knock over a piece of paper, and sailed over the edge of the gorge.
I am not even sure I heard it crash on the rocks below – I probably did, but I can’t recall, the other thing that is strange is that in my memory the truck passed between Craig and I – yet he assures me, we were both on the same side of the truck within a couple of feet of each other. The mind does play some amazing tricks on you sometimes ... We raced back to our car to retrieve a cell phone and see if we had a signal, the people in the red car, had one as well and called the police and emergency services. Craig was very shaken, with his extremely close call, it has not occurred to me until just now – that if Craig had not stopped in front of me, I would have continued walking out into the path of the truck. Someone was watching over both of this day – I can tell you. I dropped all my camera gear and other stuff in the car, made sure Craig was physically OK – then headed to the edge of the gorge.
I don’t know why really, but I was compelled, I jumped over what remained of the fence and headed down the ravine into the gorge itself. The sun had set a half hour ago, so there was very little light in the sky, as I descended the rocks and slippery sliding loose dirt, I prayed like I have never prayed before. I clambered over boulders, around rocks, looking for stable rocks and solid ground to aid my journey down the side of the gorge. I later was to find out that it was a drop of about 240 feet, not a sheer cliff, but certainly not the sort of climb a sane man would do on a good day with bright light. Every step I took felt guided, there was a light around me I cannot describe. I had no idea if anyone could have survived such an accident, but if there was the slimmest chance that one or more people were down there and alive, I felt compelled to provide what aid I could. At one point there was a section of ground in front of me that was nothing but dirt, rough round tiny pebbles of clay dirt – I had no choice but to step onto it – the ground beneath my feet sunk a little like quick sand and then I literally surfed down about 3 metres of ground – I really don’t know how I remained upright, I reach another piece of solid rock and continued my descent.
As I descended, Craig called out from the bridge overhead to ensure I was OK – I yelled back that I was fine.
The edge of the gorge was staggered/terraces a little, as I came over the first shelf I could see the truck way below me, but could not make out any details – there was a fire near the truck. As I got closer I could see that the engine/transmission of the truck had separated from the truck and lay about 2-3 metres in front of it. The truck itself was crush beyond recognition. For the longest time I could see no person, I called out a number of times. When I finally reached the truck I found the body of the driver, I will spare you the gruesome details, except to say there was no sign of life, and the jaws of life were not going to separate him from the truck very easily. I looked around to see if there was anyone else, but by now there was almost no light at all. I did the only thing I could do, I said a prayer for him.
About this time I could hear the approach of the a police car, the siren blaring as it approached the bridge. I remember thinking how quickly they had gotten there, Craig mentioned to me later how he thought they had taken a long time – so I really had no perception of how long it took me to descend, I felt I was going fast, but my only thoughts were, where is my foot going next and the poor soul(s) in the car – linear time was in some ways suspended for the time it took me to descent – or I had no awareness of it at all. There was nothing more I could do so I began my ascent. I had no idea how far down I had climbed or even how difficult a climb it had been. But I certainly felt ever foot of it on the ascent, again I can only say my way was guided as I climbed the ravine. As I neared the top, the first of the police arrived. He was beginning his descent, and directed me to see the other officer when I got to the top. I was out of breath when I got to the top of the gorge, but otherwise unharmed, I had a couple of scratches on my legs from sage brush – which is an irritant, so my legs have been a bit itchy irritated for the next couple of days.
After writing out a statement for the police we got in our car and headed home, a 3 hour drive.
We stopped at petrol station to get drinks, some food etc. As I walked into the store, I noticed this guy was checking me out... Which under other circumstance might have been very flattering. He continued to stare and when I exited the shop I noticed that he was in his car, staring at me, it was now starting to get a little spooky. Craig got into the car, as I put my hand on the steering wheel, so did the mystery man in his car, as I put my car into gear, so did he, as I began to reverse so did he.... I was now just a little FREAKed out – after the events of the evening – now this. I could have been over reacting because of what we had just been through – but it was all just a little weird. I told Craig – hold on and just floored the car, headed for the road, drove over the curb, rather than through the driveway. I think he started to follow, but I just floored the accelerating and got the hell out of there.
The rest of the journey home was uneventful - thankfully . We arrived home about 1pm and crashed into bed.
Monday was a day of rest and recovery. Rudrani and Ed were a godsend, they took care of Craig and I, Ed cooking a hearty breakfast.
Tuesday Ed an Rudrani drove us to a place called Madrid (Mad-rid – not Ma-drid), an art/hippy village about 20 minutes from Albuquerque. We ended up heading on into Santa Fe – WOW, what a lovely place, all the homes and building in Santa Fe have to be built in the Adobe style. Craig and I wanted to see the Chapel of Lorreto, it has a staircase that was built without a single nail, it is 23 feet high, 33 steps, completes 2 x 360 degrees circles. The legend of the stair case is that the nuns of the church needed a staircase, they conducted a novena to St Joseph to find a solution to their problem – on the last day of their novena ( I don’t even know what a novena is) a stranger arrived at the chapel, with nothing but a few carpenters tools and began to build the staircase – it took him 6 months and then he left without asking for payment. The staircase is an engineering marvel – many have studied its construction and its self supporting circular design is a little like a bubble bee, which theoretically should not fly. So that was a marvel to behold.
Wednesday 22nd was a very early start for me – up at 4:45am to catch my flights to San Francisco – I cant remember the last time I got up at 4:45am....
I am now safely in San Francisco – and looking forward to catching up with various friend. San Francisco’s Gay Pride is this weekend – so it will be a big weekend in the city.
24 June 2005
5 June 2005
Chapter 4 - Abadiania, Brazil
G’Day All
Now that I can read and write again, I thought I would catch you up on the last of my adventures in Abadiania. Now I must warn you this story contain some graphic descriptions and may in fact all be fiction, I am a writer after all – I will leave it for you to decide.
I spent a lot of time preparing myself for the visible spiritual surgery that I had been told that I would receive, if you remember from my last novel. Eye scrapings surgery, I am particularly sensitive about my eyes, have a real hard time getting letting anyone near them and even putting drops in my eyes is a major drama – they are just really sensitive and sensitive to light as well. So the thought of someone taking a kitchen knife to my eyes is a very scary prospect – but hey if it’s going to heal, and I was healed of my Tinnitus last year, then I think I could work with that.
I have a CD from Margaret Dent, recently deceased mentor, on it was a track about letting go of fear, so you can imagine how many times I played that track!
Tuesday I was planning on having a quiet day, but ended up accompanying Craig and Steve to Anapolis, yet again. It was not to bad, running round town, photo’s, banking, plane flights, lunch, photo’s, money blah blah. While at the bank a couple of Mormon missionaries came in, one of them struck up a conversation, I think he was a little amazed to see a large group of gringo’s (we had ran into some other friends from Abadiania at the bank). Now Mormon’s stick out like a boil on a witch’s nose, (not judgemental – just statement of fact). So I always find it very amusing when they tell you they are Mormon’s doing missionary work ... You would have to be from the Amazon, never having seen a white man before – not to recognise those crisp white short sleeve shirts, the black plastic elder badgers and black trousers and shoes and dorkish young looks (ok been a little judgemental here – I too want to be Mormon missionary, in an alternate reality). Another man joined the bank queue with a small child, he joined the conversation, I think the opportunity to speak English compels you to join a conversation with other English speakers when you are in a non-English speaking country – even uninvited. It turns out he was a missionary (of the non-mormon variety) as well (although did not look the part at all), so surrounded by missionaries we did our banking and got the hell out of there...
Wednesday came and like a swarm of white moths we descended on the Casa, someone somewhere decided that you had to wear white when visiting the Casa – if you have ever seen my photo’s from my first trip, you know I did not get that particular memo. If god does not care about the colour of our skin, I’m sure she doesn’t give a hoot about the colour of the clothes we wear. So off to the Casa I went, all psyched for my eye surgery. They call the line for those coming for surgery first and a sizable group of people filed into the surgery room, myself amongst them. Once everyone is settled they ask if anyone between the ages of 18-52 wants to receive visible surgery? I put my hand up, folly is a word that springs to mind, two other people also wanted visible surgery – but one of them was directed to sit back down and the other – well I have no idea what happened to him – disappeared into a vortex I think.
I was lead to the main Current room (read my last email for description of a Current Room), placed before the medium Joao, told to close my eyes and place my right hand on my heart – which I dutifully did (this really does sound like a cult doesn’t it... Just kidding). Joao was praying aloud in Portuguese (I really must learn Portuguese- just so I have sort of clue). So am I a standing there with my eyes closed in a state of meditation, fear, trepidation, apprehension, anxiety and just downright terror. Suddenly a hand grabs the hand that is over my heart and pulls me – I nearly topple over, Joao steadies me, and then drags me out of the current rooms and into the main hall, where there are hundreds of people waiting.
He took me up onto the platform at the front of the hall and placed his hand on my forehead, and pushed my head back against the way. This I was to discover is the process by which he anaesthetises you. I felt a strange sense of peace and calm come over me and I was like I was no longer there, but yet was. Like a deep state a meditation, but different – it’s a very hard state to describe. So I am all prepared for surgery – I did not even think it was strange that I was standing (eye surgery is usually performed with the patient seated). He began to role up my shirt – NOW I began to think things were strange – in fact I realised he was about to take a scalpel to some part of my body. Well you can imagine – all that fear I had been feeling over the past few days and just a few minutes before – came rushing back. OH MY F$%^KING LORD ….. I opened my eyes for a brief moment. Big mistake – by opening my eyes I broke the anaesthesia. I could hear him opening the sterile scalpel packet – thank god he’s using a sterile implement I thought…..
As the knife sliced into my skin, just below my left nipple, all thoughts left my mind, and were replaced by searing pain. I was actually surprise I did not faint or scream. A small moan escaped my lips at one point – but I think the expression on my face really told the onlooking congregation all they needed to know. I don’t in anyway blame Joao, I know/knew that I had broken the anaesthesia. It felt like it went on forever and it felt like he was carving a shape, an S, in my chest. I was much later to discover that there were two incisions and a few other marks – that look like suture marks. I heard him reach for his implements again, thinking OM MY GOD – he is now going to stitch me up with a needle and thread – this is what has happened with all other physical incisions that I have been witness to. He usually puts a single roughly sewn suture in place. I just could not imagine how painful that was gong to be…..
However this was not to be my fate on this day. I felt him place his hand on my forehead again, tilting my head back. I felt this sense of peace and calm come over me again and I knew better this time – I was keeping my eyes shut. A cue tip was placed in my nose and pushed up as far as it would go – It was not uncomfortable at all – although I could not quite understand the gasps of amazement coming from the congregation gathered in the hall. At least I thought it was a cue tip, it felt like a cue tip. As the video was later to reveal I was so very very wrong.
Steve, who I had spent Tuesday running around Anapolis with, had managed to make it to the front of the hall. The night before he had figured out how to use video recording feature of his digital camera. He captured 56 seconds of the surgery – which is precisely how long it took. In addition to this small bit of video there is an official video – which I have ordered – but probably wont get to see for some months. If you want to see this video clip – let me know and I will send it, a 4mb file
The video goes something like this…. Scalpel, slicing, no blood, PAINED expression on Peter’s face, a groan, more facial expression of pain. Joao reaches for his implements … picks up a pair of surgical scissors, about 4-5 inches long. Opens them and uses them to tear off a small amount of cotton wool – dips this in a liquid (which I understand is blessed water), then proceeds to roughly shove the closed scissors up my right nostril. He pulls back to show the congregation, then proceeds to pull the scissors almost all the way out, then shoves them back up my nose again – he does this three times. Then tilts my head forward and pulls the scissors from my nose. At this point and only as he is removing the scissors for the last time – does the wound on my chest begin to bleed. I am turned and dropped into a waiting chair.
Now I am sure there are all sorts of explanations for why I did not feel the scissors … shock from the incisions, spiritual anaesthesia (if you believe this is possible) just a couple of examples and I am sure there are many more… however there is something very undeniable about what happened – it is physically not possible (according to some doctors I have spoken too) for 5 inches of straight, unbending stainless steel scissors to go up someone’s nose. There is simply nowhere for it to go.
So with that I will leave you to draw your own conclusions.
I was taken to the recovery room – where I personally believe a lot of the spiritual healing takes place. You are in a room, next to the current room; I could feel energy pulsing over my body. The wound on my chest hurt and throbbed like hell for about 30 minutes. After enduring the pain for that long I asked for the pain to be taken away – it was and from that moment no pain has ever returned – during the whole healing of the wound. The Casa nurses tended me; a small swab was placed on the incision and doused in blessed water. I lay there for a good couple of hours. As I lay there, I meditated/prayed/whatever label you want to use. There was a light show going off in my head, and my eyes felt like they were been removed from my eye sockets and replaced. I experienced many strange sensations over the course of the next couple of hours. And I had the distinct feeling that my friend Margaret Dent was standing beside me, holding my hand most of the time.
After surgery you are required to leave the Casa (home) and return to you Pousada (Inn/Hotel) and spend 24hours recovering. There are a number of recommendations about what to do and what not to do – but basically it boils down to – love yourself and care for yourself for 24 hours … the world will be there when you get back. So I spent 24hours in my room, coming out for meals. Craig visited me around lunchtime just to ensure I was OK and had everything I needed. I was fine – there was no pain from the incision, my nose felt really tender, only when I pressed on it – kinda like when you press on a recovering sore or if you have had stitches and your press on the area where the stitch enters your body. My friend Craig was scheduled to have surgery Wednesday afternoon – so he left to return to the Casa. His is an interesting tale, but not for telling here, although I encourage him to document his experiences. If you have ever had a general anaesthetic you will understand what I am about to describe; When the general anaesthetic wears off and you become conscious again, you feel exhausted, still partially sedated, you want to sleep (but often the nurses wont let you), disoriented, sometimes nauseas, confused, your whole body kinda of aches – but not from any sort of specific pain. This is exactly how you feel after spiritual surgery at the Casa – the spiritual anaesthesia has almost the same side effects – but I suspect for many different reasons. Including the fact that a lot more healing continues to occur while you are in this semi sedated state.
Thursday morning I finally emerged from my cocoon, coming out into the world – my eyes were super sensitive to light, they felt like they had been popped out of my eye sockets. I woke very early and strolled the empty streets of Abadiania, the sun had risen, but was still weak in the sky and hidden behind much cloud – there had been a huge thunderstorm through the night. There was fog in the valley and down some of the streets. I ran into Annie, from Brisbane, we chatted for a bit, she was trying to find a home for a homeless dog that had adopted her. Later in the morning I dropped in on Craig to see how he was doing. He like I said had also had a pretty intense experience, and was recovering slowly.
Thursday was a public holiday in Brazil, a Saint’s Feast day, someone did tell which saint, but I forgot. As a result of this I had been told there would be a lot of Brazilians at the Casa, coming to Joao on this holy day for healing. I made a decision to stay away from the Casa for the day – a decision I would later find out to be a very good choice. So I spent time with Craig, downloaded my email, which he read to me and replied to some of them for me… as I was not reading for suggested 8 days after surgery. To go through life as a person with sight and not read – is a very difficult thing indeed – there are words everywhere, there were times when I had no choice, like negotiating the airport on my way back to Rio – I quickly found the limits of what I could or could not do – my eyes would tire quickly, even today, I find my eyes tiring after reading a few pages, writing this has been a little easier, as I can type reasonably well and fast and don’t have to spend too much time reading what I am writing (which will probably result in a lot of grammatical and spelling errors – but hey that happens when I can read ;-0 ).
Thursday evening one of the people staying at my Pousada, Linda, returned home after six pm and told me what a zoo it had been at the Casa that day – there were thousands of people, and the afternoon session went from 2pm till 6pm – usually the morning and afternoon sessions go for two and half hours. So a four-hour session is pretty intense. There were also a lot of people with, what is referred to as dark energy – think along the lines of the Dark Side of the Force in Star Wars and you kinda get the picture. Including one man, who by accounts appears to be possessed by a not so pleasant entity (think Amityville Horror and now you really get the picture)…. So I was rather glad that I had trusted my intuition and stayed away. I found later that afternoon (before I saw Linda) that Joao had instructed those people in wheelchairs to stay away from the Casa from Wednesday afternoon till Friday afternoon – so he must have had some inkling of the what was going to be happening at the Casa over the next couple of days.
Friday morning I returned to the Casa, where I sat in current for the morning session, meditated for two and half hours. Although I have spent many years meditating, meditating for that length of time is hard work…Friday afternoon was uneventful, spending the afternoon saying goodbye to friends that I had made and will miss, as I was leaving early Saturday morning to catch a return flight to Rio.
And so my adventures in Brazil were almost at an end.
I returned to Rio Saturday morning and spent a couple of days with my friend Ivan. Laundry was an important item on my agenda and we went sightseeing on Sunday, we visited this small castle located in the Bay, which you had to catch a schooner too, we also visited Saint Sebastian Cathedral – he is the patron saint of Brazil (according to Ivan) and we went and saw Star Wars Episode III. Ivan’s religion is a mixture of catholism and African rituals – he showed me a video of his initiation ceremony it was most interesting. On my next trip I would like to go and witness one of these rituals first hand. Monday I got to spend a little time with my Canadian friend Brad – who was bringing me up to speed on his exploits and the happening on Ipanema beach. Over the weekend it was Gay Pride celebrations in Sao Paulo – so a lot of the Rio gay population had made the short journey to SP for this event.
Once again I found myself packing my bags and getting ready for another gruelling flight – how I hate travelling coach!! I am really looking forward to not living out of a suitcase – but the adventure must continue. Monday I headed for the US, first stop Dallas to spend time with my friend Israel. Hopefully I will also catch up with some of my ex-Yum colleagues. Dallas has so far been uneventful; I suspect there will be little to report … oh I almost forgot…
On the seventh night after a spiritual surgery you have the spiritual stitches removed… I have heard of reports where MRI’s show the internal stitches of spiritual surgery – but I have no first hand knowledge of this myself … somebody told me ;-). So my stitches were been removed my first night in Dallas. I have to say that this in itself was an extraordinary experience. There was definitely an otherworldly presence in Israel’s small apartment, I had not quite gone to sleep when it started – so I was aware of some of what was going on. My ears were been touched, I would hear the sound of a trumpet going off in one ear, then the other, then it would feel like someone was pushing a chimney sweep brush through one ear, then the other. There was again a lot of light in the room and in my eyes (I keep them shut). The following morning when I woke – my nose which had been very tender to touch ever since the physical invasion of my nostril was completely free of any discomfit of sensation – other than normal ones.
Well enough from me, I hope you have enjoyed my adventure so far – and like I said it may all be fiction, I’ll let you decide.
Now that I can read and write again, I thought I would catch you up on the last of my adventures in Abadiania. Now I must warn you this story contain some graphic descriptions and may in fact all be fiction, I am a writer after all – I will leave it for you to decide.
I spent a lot of time preparing myself for the visible spiritual surgery that I had been told that I would receive, if you remember from my last novel. Eye scrapings surgery, I am particularly sensitive about my eyes, have a real hard time getting letting anyone near them and even putting drops in my eyes is a major drama – they are just really sensitive and sensitive to light as well. So the thought of someone taking a kitchen knife to my eyes is a very scary prospect – but hey if it’s going to heal, and I was healed of my Tinnitus last year, then I think I could work with that.
I have a CD from Margaret Dent, recently deceased mentor, on it was a track about letting go of fear, so you can imagine how many times I played that track!
Tuesday I was planning on having a quiet day, but ended up accompanying Craig and Steve to Anapolis, yet again. It was not to bad, running round town, photo’s, banking, plane flights, lunch, photo’s, money blah blah. While at the bank a couple of Mormon missionaries came in, one of them struck up a conversation, I think he was a little amazed to see a large group of gringo’s (we had ran into some other friends from Abadiania at the bank). Now Mormon’s stick out like a boil on a witch’s nose, (not judgemental – just statement of fact). So I always find it very amusing when they tell you they are Mormon’s doing missionary work ... You would have to be from the Amazon, never having seen a white man before – not to recognise those crisp white short sleeve shirts, the black plastic elder badgers and black trousers and shoes and dorkish young looks (ok been a little judgemental here – I too want to be Mormon missionary, in an alternate reality). Another man joined the bank queue with a small child, he joined the conversation, I think the opportunity to speak English compels you to join a conversation with other English speakers when you are in a non-English speaking country – even uninvited. It turns out he was a missionary (of the non-mormon variety) as well (although did not look the part at all), so surrounded by missionaries we did our banking and got the hell out of there...
Wednesday came and like a swarm of white moths we descended on the Casa, someone somewhere decided that you had to wear white when visiting the Casa – if you have ever seen my photo’s from my first trip, you know I did not get that particular memo. If god does not care about the colour of our skin, I’m sure she doesn’t give a hoot about the colour of the clothes we wear. So off to the Casa I went, all psyched for my eye surgery. They call the line for those coming for surgery first and a sizable group of people filed into the surgery room, myself amongst them. Once everyone is settled they ask if anyone between the ages of 18-52 wants to receive visible surgery? I put my hand up, folly is a word that springs to mind, two other people also wanted visible surgery – but one of them was directed to sit back down and the other – well I have no idea what happened to him – disappeared into a vortex I think.
I was lead to the main Current room (read my last email for description of a Current Room), placed before the medium Joao, told to close my eyes and place my right hand on my heart – which I dutifully did (this really does sound like a cult doesn’t it... Just kidding). Joao was praying aloud in Portuguese (I really must learn Portuguese- just so I have sort of clue). So am I a standing there with my eyes closed in a state of meditation, fear, trepidation, apprehension, anxiety and just downright terror. Suddenly a hand grabs the hand that is over my heart and pulls me – I nearly topple over, Joao steadies me, and then drags me out of the current rooms and into the main hall, where there are hundreds of people waiting.
He took me up onto the platform at the front of the hall and placed his hand on my forehead, and pushed my head back against the way. This I was to discover is the process by which he anaesthetises you. I felt a strange sense of peace and calm come over me and I was like I was no longer there, but yet was. Like a deep state a meditation, but different – it’s a very hard state to describe. So I am all prepared for surgery – I did not even think it was strange that I was standing (eye surgery is usually performed with the patient seated). He began to role up my shirt – NOW I began to think things were strange – in fact I realised he was about to take a scalpel to some part of my body. Well you can imagine – all that fear I had been feeling over the past few days and just a few minutes before – came rushing back. OH MY F$%^KING LORD ….. I opened my eyes for a brief moment. Big mistake – by opening my eyes I broke the anaesthesia. I could hear him opening the sterile scalpel packet – thank god he’s using a sterile implement I thought…..
As the knife sliced into my skin, just below my left nipple, all thoughts left my mind, and were replaced by searing pain. I was actually surprise I did not faint or scream. A small moan escaped my lips at one point – but I think the expression on my face really told the onlooking congregation all they needed to know. I don’t in anyway blame Joao, I know/knew that I had broken the anaesthesia. It felt like it went on forever and it felt like he was carving a shape, an S, in my chest. I was much later to discover that there were two incisions and a few other marks – that look like suture marks. I heard him reach for his implements again, thinking OM MY GOD – he is now going to stitch me up with a needle and thread – this is what has happened with all other physical incisions that I have been witness to. He usually puts a single roughly sewn suture in place. I just could not imagine how painful that was gong to be…..
However this was not to be my fate on this day. I felt him place his hand on my forehead again, tilting my head back. I felt this sense of peace and calm come over me again and I knew better this time – I was keeping my eyes shut. A cue tip was placed in my nose and pushed up as far as it would go – It was not uncomfortable at all – although I could not quite understand the gasps of amazement coming from the congregation gathered in the hall. At least I thought it was a cue tip, it felt like a cue tip. As the video was later to reveal I was so very very wrong.
Steve, who I had spent Tuesday running around Anapolis with, had managed to make it to the front of the hall. The night before he had figured out how to use video recording feature of his digital camera. He captured 56 seconds of the surgery – which is precisely how long it took. In addition to this small bit of video there is an official video – which I have ordered – but probably wont get to see for some months. If you want to see this video clip – let me know and I will send it, a 4mb file
The video goes something like this…. Scalpel, slicing, no blood, PAINED expression on Peter’s face, a groan, more facial expression of pain. Joao reaches for his implements … picks up a pair of surgical scissors, about 4-5 inches long. Opens them and uses them to tear off a small amount of cotton wool – dips this in a liquid (which I understand is blessed water), then proceeds to roughly shove the closed scissors up my right nostril. He pulls back to show the congregation, then proceeds to pull the scissors almost all the way out, then shoves them back up my nose again – he does this three times. Then tilts my head forward and pulls the scissors from my nose. At this point and only as he is removing the scissors for the last time – does the wound on my chest begin to bleed. I am turned and dropped into a waiting chair.
Now I am sure there are all sorts of explanations for why I did not feel the scissors … shock from the incisions, spiritual anaesthesia (if you believe this is possible) just a couple of examples and I am sure there are many more… however there is something very undeniable about what happened – it is physically not possible (according to some doctors I have spoken too) for 5 inches of straight, unbending stainless steel scissors to go up someone’s nose. There is simply nowhere for it to go.
So with that I will leave you to draw your own conclusions.
I was taken to the recovery room – where I personally believe a lot of the spiritual healing takes place. You are in a room, next to the current room; I could feel energy pulsing over my body. The wound on my chest hurt and throbbed like hell for about 30 minutes. After enduring the pain for that long I asked for the pain to be taken away – it was and from that moment no pain has ever returned – during the whole healing of the wound. The Casa nurses tended me; a small swab was placed on the incision and doused in blessed water. I lay there for a good couple of hours. As I lay there, I meditated/prayed/whatever label you want to use. There was a light show going off in my head, and my eyes felt like they were been removed from my eye sockets and replaced. I experienced many strange sensations over the course of the next couple of hours. And I had the distinct feeling that my friend Margaret Dent was standing beside me, holding my hand most of the time.
After surgery you are required to leave the Casa (home) and return to you Pousada (Inn/Hotel) and spend 24hours recovering. There are a number of recommendations about what to do and what not to do – but basically it boils down to – love yourself and care for yourself for 24 hours … the world will be there when you get back. So I spent 24hours in my room, coming out for meals. Craig visited me around lunchtime just to ensure I was OK and had everything I needed. I was fine – there was no pain from the incision, my nose felt really tender, only when I pressed on it – kinda like when you press on a recovering sore or if you have had stitches and your press on the area where the stitch enters your body. My friend Craig was scheduled to have surgery Wednesday afternoon – so he left to return to the Casa. His is an interesting tale, but not for telling here, although I encourage him to document his experiences. If you have ever had a general anaesthetic you will understand what I am about to describe; When the general anaesthetic wears off and you become conscious again, you feel exhausted, still partially sedated, you want to sleep (but often the nurses wont let you), disoriented, sometimes nauseas, confused, your whole body kinda of aches – but not from any sort of specific pain. This is exactly how you feel after spiritual surgery at the Casa – the spiritual anaesthesia has almost the same side effects – but I suspect for many different reasons. Including the fact that a lot more healing continues to occur while you are in this semi sedated state.
Thursday morning I finally emerged from my cocoon, coming out into the world – my eyes were super sensitive to light, they felt like they had been popped out of my eye sockets. I woke very early and strolled the empty streets of Abadiania, the sun had risen, but was still weak in the sky and hidden behind much cloud – there had been a huge thunderstorm through the night. There was fog in the valley and down some of the streets. I ran into Annie, from Brisbane, we chatted for a bit, she was trying to find a home for a homeless dog that had adopted her. Later in the morning I dropped in on Craig to see how he was doing. He like I said had also had a pretty intense experience, and was recovering slowly.
Thursday was a public holiday in Brazil, a Saint’s Feast day, someone did tell which saint, but I forgot. As a result of this I had been told there would be a lot of Brazilians at the Casa, coming to Joao on this holy day for healing. I made a decision to stay away from the Casa for the day – a decision I would later find out to be a very good choice. So I spent time with Craig, downloaded my email, which he read to me and replied to some of them for me… as I was not reading for suggested 8 days after surgery. To go through life as a person with sight and not read – is a very difficult thing indeed – there are words everywhere, there were times when I had no choice, like negotiating the airport on my way back to Rio – I quickly found the limits of what I could or could not do – my eyes would tire quickly, even today, I find my eyes tiring after reading a few pages, writing this has been a little easier, as I can type reasonably well and fast and don’t have to spend too much time reading what I am writing (which will probably result in a lot of grammatical and spelling errors – but hey that happens when I can read ;-0 ).
Thursday evening one of the people staying at my Pousada, Linda, returned home after six pm and told me what a zoo it had been at the Casa that day – there were thousands of people, and the afternoon session went from 2pm till 6pm – usually the morning and afternoon sessions go for two and half hours. So a four-hour session is pretty intense. There were also a lot of people with, what is referred to as dark energy – think along the lines of the Dark Side of the Force in Star Wars and you kinda get the picture. Including one man, who by accounts appears to be possessed by a not so pleasant entity (think Amityville Horror and now you really get the picture)…. So I was rather glad that I had trusted my intuition and stayed away. I found later that afternoon (before I saw Linda) that Joao had instructed those people in wheelchairs to stay away from the Casa from Wednesday afternoon till Friday afternoon – so he must have had some inkling of the what was going to be happening at the Casa over the next couple of days.
Friday morning I returned to the Casa, where I sat in current for the morning session, meditated for two and half hours. Although I have spent many years meditating, meditating for that length of time is hard work…Friday afternoon was uneventful, spending the afternoon saying goodbye to friends that I had made and will miss, as I was leaving early Saturday morning to catch a return flight to Rio.
And so my adventures in Brazil were almost at an end.
I returned to Rio Saturday morning and spent a couple of days with my friend Ivan. Laundry was an important item on my agenda and we went sightseeing on Sunday, we visited this small castle located in the Bay, which you had to catch a schooner too, we also visited Saint Sebastian Cathedral – he is the patron saint of Brazil (according to Ivan) and we went and saw Star Wars Episode III. Ivan’s religion is a mixture of catholism and African rituals – he showed me a video of his initiation ceremony it was most interesting. On my next trip I would like to go and witness one of these rituals first hand. Monday I got to spend a little time with my Canadian friend Brad – who was bringing me up to speed on his exploits and the happening on Ipanema beach. Over the weekend it was Gay Pride celebrations in Sao Paulo – so a lot of the Rio gay population had made the short journey to SP for this event.
Once again I found myself packing my bags and getting ready for another gruelling flight – how I hate travelling coach!! I am really looking forward to not living out of a suitcase – but the adventure must continue. Monday I headed for the US, first stop Dallas to spend time with my friend Israel. Hopefully I will also catch up with some of my ex-Yum colleagues. Dallas has so far been uneventful; I suspect there will be little to report … oh I almost forgot…
On the seventh night after a spiritual surgery you have the spiritual stitches removed… I have heard of reports where MRI’s show the internal stitches of spiritual surgery – but I have no first hand knowledge of this myself … somebody told me ;-). So my stitches were been removed my first night in Dallas. I have to say that this in itself was an extraordinary experience. There was definitely an otherworldly presence in Israel’s small apartment, I had not quite gone to sleep when it started – so I was aware of some of what was going on. My ears were been touched, I would hear the sound of a trumpet going off in one ear, then the other, then it would feel like someone was pushing a chimney sweep brush through one ear, then the other. There was again a lot of light in the room and in my eyes (I keep them shut). The following morning when I woke – my nose which had been very tender to touch ever since the physical invasion of my nostril was completely free of any discomfit of sensation – other than normal ones.
Well enough from me, I hope you have enjoyed my adventure so far – and like I said it may all be fiction, I’ll let you decide.
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