After visiting Los Dominicos, a Spanish pueblo turned artesian craft fair, we headed to the bus station. Trucked it is more like it. Karen sped through downtown Santiago, swiftly swerved through cars, so that we could catch our 5:15 bus for which we had not yet purchased tickets. Sprinting through the station, buying tickets, then finally boarded a bus towards Catemu.
Ever heard of Catemu? Neither had we. Two hours on a bus and we pulled up to the main drag of this small town. Two cafes, a candy store, and an arcade, Catemu is your envisioned colorfully run-down Latin American true pueblo. But we weren't there for an empanada - we came for the farm. After seeing a poster a few weeks back for EkaChakra EcoYoga Farm, I became enamored with the idea that we could go here for this unique sense of a nature adventure in tranquility. So, we went.
A questionable taxi (read: yellow car with empty wire frame on top) with a nice driver (read: not creepy woman) dodged potholes in the dark, pulled up on the dirt road and let us out, as one of the ever-present dogs came to greet us. It became immediately clear that the farm is more of an ecofriendly commune for followers of the Hari Krishna religion, usually known for funky ponytails, loud chanting, and orange clothes. We met a devotee and his wife and two children on their way home, and walked into a camp-like mess hall, only everything is made from exquisite woodwork, courtesy of the man in the cowboy hat, we were informed. Woven lanterns, carved bed frames, and tree trunk tables and benches dot the open fields of this tiny farm. A man named Tirtha swathed in signature pale orange sarang met us and gave us hello kisses and said he'd been waiting for us, expecting us midday. Well, we were late and no one seemed to really mind. Our first friends were:
1. A tiny Peruvian woman with metal-capped teeth who closely resembled Mulan's grandmother's spirit.
2. Supergiant David, a stringbean of a man in his 40s, with a greyish-blonde ponytail.
We made some smalltalk before our two friends decided to stand up. The height discrepancy between them may have been the length of my entire being. Stifling laughter, Kate and I accepted metal six-compartment trays and metal cups. We were served a stewed apple cinnamon tea, two rices, basil tomatoes, pepper sauce, two types of bread, three salads including two vegetables I have never seen or eaten before.
As we sat down on our wobbly treetrunk table, and passed through the dull customary Where are you going, where have you been traveler exchanges, I dared to ask the big question: so, what is Hari Krishna? This is definitely the first step someone unbeknownst to them takes before joining a cult. For my question, I got philosophized in Hari Krishna in 10 minutes, in a rapidfire Spanish by a younger devotee who did not enunciate and spoke so speedily, swallowing his words with his food. Nearly comical, how excited he was, and seemingly decided that we were totally fluent in Spanish, this guy explained how we are all our souls and everything in this world has a soul. Agreed. And that unifying soul is a part of an all-powerful entity they call Krishna. And every soul can acknowledge and respect its relation to all other souls, from Krishna to street dogs to wood tables to rice and beans to this guy sitting across from me yapping away about Karma and vegetarianism and me fixating on the slight chip in his front two teeth. Cool.
After dinner, we were led to wash our dishes in a bathtub-turned sink out back. Supergiant David came and looked at stars with us and made sure we had no more questions. Journalism students always have questions, but I refrained. Instead, we talked about the meaning of life and funny words like phlebotomy.
While I could've stared at those bright skylights for seemingly ever, it was cold and we were wiped out. Kate and I went back to our private four-bed hut, complete with four-star accoutrements like a sawdust pail toilet. In all seriousness, the place was charming, the mattresses and pillows were comfortable, and the decorations were quite tasteful. We had outlets and running water. No complaints.
While I am not planning to stay here forever, I am vaguely considering become a vegetarian. But don't hold me to it. This is a judgment-free zone with a lot of happy people, good food, and remarkable views - you can't ask for a better vacation destination.
For me, it's the kind of commitment where I'll give it my all, but only for a night.
No comments:
Post a Comment