Palenque: Encounter on top of Temple of the Cross, or Rod’s Hippy Friend (October 2003)
The second afternoon at the site we just wandered around, absorbing more of the mystique and magic of the place. I (in spite of a fear of heights) managed to climb up the steps to the big temple in the Cross Complex, and there is a wonderful view out (as Kev and Rod said yesterday).
Rod wanted to sit on a ledge at the top, to contemplate the site, the jungle, the world. There he met another meditator on the ledge around the corner: an aging hippy guy from Canada, long hair tied back. He greeted Rod with, “Welcome to my office”. Lots of chatting, as Rod was fascinated. He doesn’t want to live in Canada or USA now, traveled in Asia for years, and now has ended up here in a kind of commune, where they bake and sell cookies and brownies, dance and sing (hopefully for the tourists).
He told a bit about living in Mexico, and how you can’t own property so near the border. He also told Rod about a woman and a place where you can get mushrooms – imagine that! Rod was actually quite excited about talking to such a different kind of person, and afterwards jokingly called him, “My Hippy Friend”. An interesting, novel experience, which I eavesdropped on from below the ledge
The second afternoon at the site we just wandered around, absorbing more of the mystique and magic of the place. I (in spite of a fear of heights) managed to climb up the steps to the big temple in the Cross Complex, and there is a wonderful view out (as Kev and Rod said yesterday).
Rod wanted to sit on a ledge at the top, to contemplate the site, the jungle, the world. There he met another meditator on the ledge around the corner: an aging hippy guy from Canada, long hair tied back. He greeted Rod with, “Welcome to my office”. Lots of chatting, as Rod was fascinated. He doesn’t want to live in Canada or USA now, traveled in Asia for years, and now has ended up here in a kind of commune, where they bake and sell cookies and brownies, dance and sing (hopefully for the tourists).
He told a bit about living in Mexico, and how you can’t own property so near the border. He also told Rod about a woman and a place where you can get mushrooms – imagine that! Rod was actually quite excited about talking to such a different kind of person, and afterwards jokingly called him, “My Hippy Friend”. An interesting, novel experience, which I eavesdropped on from below the ledge
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