6. ALTO PARAISO, BRAZIL
March 13-April 9, 2018
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Though I began to feel at home in the Abadiania community, after two weeks there I was ready for a different experience. A number people had suggested Alto Paraiso (literal translation: High Paradise), talking it up as a vibrant community of hippies and artists, full of New Age healing opportunities. They all pointed out that the town was “built on top of crystals” and that the waterfalls, which were as grand and inviting as they were pervasive, were not to be missed (cool pix on Instagram).
In addition to these enticing promises about Alto Paraiso, my friends (and fellow John of God seekers) John and Debora would be spending the month of April there. And Debora’s daughter Karina lived there and could help me find my way around.
Once again I lucked out with airbnb, finding a beautiful little casita on the outskirts of town. On my first day in the hammock on the porch, a toucan flew by and I started to become aware of the magic around me. My host, Ekenah, was in France with Cirque du Soleil, but returned after a few days and was highly enjoyable and interesting.
Alto Paraiso is in central Brazil, more or less. The surrounding landscape is unique and is sometimes referred to as the Brazilian savannah. I met dozens of people there, many of them who spoke at least a little English, but no one, literally no one, was from there. The typical story was, “I visited from Sao Paulo, or Brasilia, or Rio, or New Hampshire, then came back to visit a few more times, then finally just came back and stayed.” As for me, I intended to stay a week or two but ended up there for a month. It’s possible I would still be there today, but the rains came early and they were epic.
Alto, as the locals refer to it, was a perfect transition for me after the intensity of the ayahuasca experience and the spiritual solitude of Abadiania. There is a very happening music scene in this little town of around 7000, and often there were five or six live performances going on just in the little downtown area. Singers who play nylon-string guitars and have percussion accompaniment dominate, and I saw several truly brilliant performers. There are also a number of domes or other innovative structures that house music, meditation, dance and other spiritual events. For instance, check out the Gota.
Besides meeting very cool people, like singer-songwriter Rose from London (her given name — at birth — is actually Rose Music, which embarrasses her but I think is awesome) and the beautiful, super-smart, life of the party Paula (from Sao Paulo with a UCLA Masters degree) and spending a lot of time with music, my days and nights were filled with waterfalls and writing a book.
The waterfalls in my Instagram pix are from three separate adventures. The first one I walked to on my own, a beautiful place called Loquinhas (“Little Things”). There was another couple in the water when I arrived, and though they didn’t speak English, we took turns being each others’ photographer. I followed their lead, swimming in the pool, then making my way behind the fall itself to look out and take in the whole scene.
I next went to Cachoeira dos Cristais (“Waterfall of Two Crystals”) by moto-taxi, which as it turns out is by motorcycle. This park featured seven waterfalls, eacb bigger and more beautiful.
By the time I decided to extend my stay in Alto Paraiso, Easter was approaching, and all accommodations were sold out. My host Ekenah offered me another place in the nearby town of Cavalcante, describing it as a true country town in a cattle raising area. It was also on the way to the Chapada dos Veadeiros National Park, home of some the most spectacular waterfalls. So I decided to spend a day hiking in this adventurer’s mecca before landing in Calvacante for Easter weekend.
Our guide for this rigorous trip was from New Hampshire. I won’t mention his name because he’s been in Brazil illegally for nearly six years. Our car included two lovely and engaging third-year med students from Sao Paulo, and we met up with two other carfuls of people, bringing our total to ten. I was thirty years older than some, and forty years older than the rest. This would become something of an issue :)
The country was as breath-taking as advertised, and each waterfall (there were seven again) had its own character and appeal. We stopped to swim and rest at four of the most beautiful spots. At the seventh falls the trail had collapsed, making it inaccessible because the alternate route was home to too many leopards.
One of my favorite pictures of myself ever was taken at the third waterfall. You may need to zoom in to see the details on the rocks above the falls.
The return trip kicked my butt. The sun had been relentless, and though the hike was less than ten miles round trip, there were a lot of elevation changes, and in the words of Jimmy Cliff, many rivers to cross. When I grabbed the supposed handrail of a log bridge, one end gave way and I toppled into a fast-moving stream. Fortunately the other end held firm, because the falls were only a few meters away and I prevented myself from going over, cartoon-style. We walked up a long, tough hill in the still-brutal sun. My legs felt like rubber and it wasn’t long before I slipped off a boulder into another stream. My compadres were sympathetic and supportive. One at a time the English speakers would kind of slyly fall back and keep me company. It was getting dark and we still weren’t back, but I kept my spirits up (often by watching the exquisite backside of one of the med students). Just when I thought I couldn’t take another step a mirage appeared in the middle of nowhere: a hut that housed a press to make sugar cane juice. I have never tasted anything so good or so welcome in my life!!
I returned to Alto Paraiso a few days later, back to Ekenah’s casita, and it truly felt like I was back home. Soon Debora and John were there, along with her wonderful cousin Wellington. We couldn’t speak a dozen words of each other’s language between the two of us, but we became super-bros very quickly. We also saw more of Karina and her delightful girlfriend. More music, more visual art, more Brazilian cuisine. Life was good.
One of the most interesting experiences during this second time in Alto was hearing a talk by Dr. Amit Goswani, a quantum physicist from India. He spoke at Temple Centelha Divina on the subject of Happiness and Quantum Activism. His insights came from intuition, science, and the love he shared with his wife, and they were shared in a clear and understandable way. His manner was warm and humorous.
A particular reason I chose to stay in such an isolated place was the opportunity to work on a book that had been forming in my mind for several years. I fell into a very disciplined schedule, writing nearly every morning and often coming back for a second session later in the day. The subject is music and the group process. I finished about 75 pages in those four weeks, mostly typing in all the material that I had already written in my head. After a break, I’m now beginning to visualize how I want to finish the work.
As I said, the rains became too epic. It was hard to leave the house for any length of time. And the beach was calling. I seriously considered the truly exotic — Trinidad and Tobago for instance — and Belize was a place I had always wanted to go. I looked at Carmel del Playa, on the Caribbean side of Mexico, where friends Teerth and Elizabeth were spending a month, but finally decided on another place I that always sounded interesting — Puerto Vallarta. And I hit the jackpot!
PUERTO VALLARTA, MEXICO
April 11–27, 2018
Full-on vacation mode! Margaritas, Coronas with lime, fish tacos, local lobster. Took a couple tours to Yelapa and Marietas Island, both included a little snorkling. Swam. Walked on the beach. Loved the color, excitement and craziness of the Malecon night after night. Went to the big touristy show, Rhythms of the Night. Met very cool people and heard two great bands with a strong flamenco influence.
From there I spent a week in my old stomping grounds of San Diego, CA, USA. More great friends, went to Black’s Beach, where the hang gliders were more interesting than the naked women, got swarmed with the Cinco de Mayo crowds in Old Town, had a meeting with a filmmaker about a Big Kitchen doc film project using music that my partner Ricardo and I wrote. After fifteen weeks on the road I was ready to head for the Bay Area, a place that still feels like home, even though I don’t actually have a house there.
A PSA test awaited me.