Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Negative Ions
Once upon a time, high in the Andes Mountains of Ecuador, two travelers came to the small town of Vilcabamba in search of peace, nature, running paths, tropical fruits and long hikes. Stepping off the bus, they breathed the clean air, shared a liter of fresh mango yogurt, waved to the donkeys and townspeople and they knew they had found an amazing place.
The sun set and night crept in. It was not long until the purity and tranquility was tainted and the two travelers became blinded to the beautiful surroundings by the bright neon lights of the town church. Farther up the hill, the two found themselves captive in a whorehouse cloaked as a Hosteria…the House of Mauricio. Day in an out, the two were forced to sit for hours at the empty bar, and swat at the quarter size beetles and cockroaches. They soon learned never stop looking over their shoulders, as they discovered Mauricio’s reputation as a man whose appetite was never satiated. He would lounge around shirtless, take advantage of employees, guests, steal clients from others and bribe the local police. Soon, the two travelers noticed that the flowers lost their smell, the fruits their sweetness, and the food its taste. As they would soon be told, it was all due to the cosmos of Vilcabamba. The negative ions amplified all emotions, passions and creativities. Mauricio’s dungeon was no different and the negative tone he set continued to grow. It was time to escape. With bags on their backs, the two travelers did not look back, even to Mauricio’s “Chicos, se van? No problem, No problem.”
“Oh my! You two are like gifts from heaven!” she exclaimed, wrapping them into big hugs. “How long can you stay?” she asked, only to quickly answer, “Oh don’t ever leave. I came here a year ago, knowing nothing about hotels, and just haven’t left. My husband tells me, But I know the truth, it is the negative ions!” In this boisterous and eccentric woman with white, frizzy, flowing hair, the two felt as though they had found their fairy godmother at last.
Way up in the hills, in a land of organic food, tropical fruits, fresh baked 7 grain bread, many hiking paths to explore, long soft running trails, and hippie artesanos selling jewelry and other goods, the two travelers realized that they had at last found Madre Tierra.
For every bump in the road, there is an opportunity around the corner.
The sun set and night crept in. It was not long until the purity and tranquility was tainted and the two travelers became blinded to the beautiful surroundings by the bright neon lights of the town church. Farther up the hill, the two found themselves captive in a whorehouse cloaked as a Hosteria…the House of Mauricio. Day in an out, the two were forced to sit for hours at the empty bar, and swat at the quarter size beetles and cockroaches. They soon learned never stop looking over their shoulders, as they discovered Mauricio’s reputation as a man whose appetite was never satiated. He would lounge around shirtless, take advantage of employees, guests, steal clients from others and bribe the local police. Soon, the two travelers noticed that the flowers lost their smell, the fruits their sweetness, and the food its taste. As they would soon be told, it was all due to the cosmos of Vilcabamba. The negative ions amplified all emotions, passions and creativities. Mauricio’s dungeon was no different and the negative tone he set continued to grow. It was time to escape. With bags on their backs, the two travelers did not look back, even to Mauricio’s “Chicos, se van? No problem, No problem.”
“Oh my! You two are like gifts from heaven!” she exclaimed, wrapping them into big hugs. “How long can you stay?” she asked, only to quickly answer, “Oh don’t ever leave. I came here a year ago, knowing nothing about hotels, and just haven’t left. My husband tells me,
Way up in the hills, in a land of organic food, tropical fruits, fresh baked 7 grain bread, many hiking paths to explore, long soft running trails, and hippie artesanos selling jewelry and other goods, the two travelers realized that they had at last found Madre Tierra.
For every bump in the road, there is an opportunity around the corner.
// posted by Becca @ 10:45 PM 
