A BAD OMEN

Lama Ole had told Javier not to smoke so much: “Smoke less and you will live longer.” - He had said. Javier smoked about twenty cigarettes a day.

In January 2011, he started to feel a pain in his back. It turned out to be lung cancer. in May, he had a general checkup and that was the diagnosis. In order to use his insurance he needed a lung biopsy. His eldest daughter who was living in Spain would send money for that, and his first ex-wife would take the money to Javier on a certain date.

That day my nephew Helmut called because my daughter Stefanie who lives in Texas was visiting Peru and he wanted to invite us out for lunch. It had to be a quick lunch because he had to go back to work. At Noon he picked us up and we went to a nice restaurant and we ordered. We had waited for some twenty minutes when we saw some movement and we heard a crash. The waiter was bringing the tray and my plate had fallen and broken to pieces! My nephew’s and my daughter’s plates were all right so they proceeded to eat. I had to wait another twenty minutes to get my plate.

As I got back home, I received a phone call: Javier had been taken to the hospital by his ex-wife. She had gone to deliver the money for the biopsy to the Buddhist Center and had found him very sick. She drove him to a hospital. I had all his analysis, so I rushed to the Emergency room. He had been smoking a little too much and he had pneumonia. He was put in intensive care.

I called the kids of the Sangha. Alfonso and Mauricio came to keep me company. Javier was too sick to have visitors. Besides, he didn’t want to see anybody. He was too sick for that.
After a few days he got better and he was taken to a room. I don’t know what the doctor told him, but he never smoked again. Since he was in hospital and he had the money, they went ahead with the biopsy.

After the biopsy his insurance covered all his expenses. He did not have to make another payment again. Javier lived for a few more months. He died because of Chemotherapy. He could not stand it.

I have always wondered how lucky he was for his ex-wife to go and see him that day. She saved his life then. Meanwhile I was at the restaurant and the waiter dropped my plate! Was that an omen? I think so. I took it then as an omen something bad was happening and it was!

UN MAL AUGURIO

Lama Ole le había dicho a Javier que no fumara tanto. “Fuma menos  y vivirás más”, le había dicho. Javier fumaba unos veinte cigarrillos al día.

En enero del 2011 él comenzó a sentir dolor de espalda. En mayo tuvo un chequeo general y le diagnosticaron cáncer al pulmón. Para poder hacer uso de su seguro, necesitaba una biopsia del pulmón, Su hija mayor, la cual vivía en España iba a enviar el dinero para eso; y su primera esposa iba a llevárselo ese día.

Justo el mismo día, mi sobrino Helmut llamó a invitarnos a almorzar a mi hija Stefanie, (que estaba de visita ya que vive en Texas) y a mí. Debía ser un almuerzo rápido porque él debía regresar a trabajar. Nos recogió a mediodía y fuimos a un lindo restaurante y ordenamos la comida. Esperamos unos veinte minutos cuando vimos un movimiento y escuchamos un estrépito: mi plato había caído de la bandeja del mozo y se había hecho añicos. Los platos de mi sobrino y de mi hija estaban bien, o sea que ellos procedieron a comer. Yo tuve que esperar otros veinte minutos para que me trajeran otro.

Cuando regresé a mi casa recibí una llamada urgente: a Javier lo habían llevado a emergencia. Su primera esposa había ido al centro Budista a llevarle el dinero para la biopsia y lo encontró muy mal. Ella lo llevó a la clínica. Como yo tenía todos sus análisis corrí al hospital. Javier había estado fumando demasiado y estaba con neumonía. Lo pusieron en cuidados intensivos.

Llamé a los chicos de la Sangha. Alfonso y Mauricio vinieron  a acompañarme. Pero Javier estaba demasiado grave para recibir visitas. No podía recibirlas, estaba muy mal.

Después de unos días mejoró y lo llevaron a una habitación. No sé qué le dijo el doctor, pero Javier no volvió a fumar más. Como ya estaba en la clínica y tenía el dinero, le hicieron la biopsia.

Después de la biopsia el seguro cubrió todos los gastos. No tuvo que hacer otro pago más. Javier vivió algunos meses más. Falleció por la quimioterapia. No la pudo resistir.

Siempre he pensado que era una suerte que la primera esposa  llegó a tiempo y lo llevó en su auto al hospital. Mientras tanto yo estaba en el restaurante y al mesero se le cayó mi plato. ¿Sería ese un mal augurio? Pienso que sí. En ese momento pensé que era una advertencia que algo malo estaba pasando. ¡Y no me equivoqué!

THE SECRET THAT SHE KEPT

I had completely forgotten about María del Socorro Pérez Gómez, a member of our Sangha from the times we met in Carlos Vega’s apartment by the end of the 1990’s. until I saw a picture of us on Facebook. She was wiry and athletic: she was a Yoga teacher. She had big brown eyes and her curly brown hair was tied up in a bun. She had a big smile despite her braces and she was very talkative.

In the Sangha meetings we would first meditate, and after we had finished  singing Mahakala we stayed  and socialized. We would buy drinks or bring sandwiches, and we stayed for several hours. Sometimes someone would play the guitar, other times we danced, but we always had a great time. 

María del Socorro started to come frequently and we learned a few things about her: she was twice divorced, she had an older son who lived on his own, and an eight year old who lived with her. They lived with Maria del Socorro’s father who was an old man with Alzheimer.

One day she invited Javier and I to visit her. She lived in a second story apartment in a modern building on a nice avenue. We met her dad, who repeated over and over the same story: how he had met his deceased wife.

Then we met Eduardo, her eight year old boy. He was a good looking kid but did not stare you in the eyes: he looked away. One thing that we noticed was how he asked his mother to buy him this or that toy. María del Socorro did not make much money as a yoga teacher and we later learned the boy’s father was not very generous with his allowance. In fact he had a lot of money because he owned a factory, but he did not give his son much.

After we left, Javier told me : “I feel there’s something strange here.” The boy had been too insistent on his mom getting him certain toys. But life went on and we forgot about this. She was fun to be with and she was always with us at Meditation.

One day though, we received a call: she was frantic because her boy was missing. Eduardo had run away! She came to see me and I learned more about the situation. Her husband had left her for another woman. Because she hated her she had forbidden her son to visit his father. The boy missed his father terribly. For a while he had been very demanding with his mother asking for things she could not buy. Then he decided to run away and went to his father’s house and did not want to come back!

It was hard to explain to Maria del Socorro that she could not do that. No matter how bitter the divorce, no matter how much she hated her ex - husband, the boy needed to see his father. She had been cruel with the boy because she had no right to separate father and son. Finally she and the boy’s father reached an agreement for shared custody. The boy was then happy and did not ask for more toys.

Disturbing emotions like anger, hatred and jealousy make us act in a certain way, and we may be hurting not who we hate; but those we love the most!

EL SECRETO QUE GUARDABA

Me había olvidado por completo de María del Socorro Pérez Gómez, hasta que encontré una fotografía en Facebook. Ella era un miembro de nuestra Sangha de la época en que nos reuníamos a fines de los noventas en el departamento de Carlos Vega. Ella era delgada, flexible y atlética: era profesora de Yoga. Tenía una amplia sonrisa a pesar de los brackets y era muy conversadora.

En las reuniones de la Sangha primero meditábamos y luego de cantar Mahakala, nos quedábamos a hacer vida social. Comprábamos bebidas o llevábamos sándwiches y nos reuníamos por varias horas. Algunas veces alguien tocaba la guitarra, otras veces bailábamos; pero siempre lo pasábamos genial. María del Socorro empezó a venir con frecuencia y descubrimos algunas cosas sobre ella: era dos veces divorciada. Tenía un hijo mayor adulto que vivía solo, y un niño de ocho años que vivía con ella. Vivían con el papá de ella que era un señor muy mayor con Altzheimer.

Un día nos invitó a Javier y a mí a visitarla. Era en un departamento en un segundo piso en un edificio moderno en una bonita avenida. Conocimos al papá el cual nos repitió  muchas veces la misma historia: cómo había conocido a la que fue su esposa, ya fallecida.

Luego conocimos a Eduardo, su niño de ocho años. Era un niño guapo, pero no te miraba a los ojos: miraba a otro lado. Una cosa de la que nos dimos cuenta era cómo le pedía a su mamá que le comprara este u otro juguete. María del Socorro no ganaba mucho dinero como maestra de Yoga, y luego nos enteramos que el papá del niño no era muy generoso con la pensión. En realidad tenía mucho dinero porque tenía una fábrica, pero no le daba mucho a su hijo.

Después que nos fuimos, Javier comentó: ”Siento que acá hay algo raro.” El chico había insistido mucho en que le compraran esos juguetes. Pero la vida siguió su curso y nos olvidamos. María del Socorro era divertida y venía siempre a la meditación.

Sin embargo un día recibimos una llamada: Estaba desesperada, su hijo Eduardo había desaparecido. Ella me vino a ver y me enteré más de la situación: su marido la había dejado por otra mujer. Según ella era una mala mujer. Como no le gustaba le había prohibido a su hijo visitar al papá. El niño extrañaba mucho a su padre. Por un tiempo se había mostrado muy pedilón con la mamá pidiéndole cosas que ella no podía comprar. Después decidió huir y  se había ido a casa de su papá. ¡Ya no quería volver!

Fue difícil explicarle a María del Socorro que no podía hacer eso. No importaba lo difícil del divorcio ni cuánto odiaba al ex marido. El niño necesitaba ver a su padre. Ella estaba siendo cruel con el niño. No tenía derecho a separarlos.

Finalmente ella y el papá del niño llegaron a un acuerdo para compartir la custodia. El niño estuvo feliz y ya no pidió más juguetes.

Las emociones perturbadoras como el odio, la ira o los celos nos hacen actuar de cierto modo y podemos herir no a quienes odiamos sino a los que más queremos.

COMMANDER BROOM AND THE GLASS WIND CHIMES

Javier moved to San Bartolo, a seaside town 50 kilometers South of Lima by the end of year 2,000. He rented a two story house near the Marketplace on Pacific Ocean Street. The house had two bedrooms, a big living room which became the internet place with many computers, and a kitchen. On the second floor there were two other bedrooms: one for Chino Javier Fon, Javier’s partner and another for Maria, the cook. Cathy the secretary , would come by bus every morning. I had a house in Lima, but would come and go and stayed as long as I could. My daughter and her husband Jose took care of my house since they lived with me .

Javier loved Buddhism so much he had asked Hannah for his place to become a Buddhist Center. Hannah had given him permission. So now he had a Diamond Way Center, he needed some people who would come to meditate. He asked Cathy to put up a sign on the wall: it said “We teach Meditation. If interested ask here.”

One day Cathy came all excited saying there was a person who had asked for meditation. There was a room facing the street. Javier had made his office there. We were sitting round a table in the office when this fortyish handsome guy with a small beard came in. He had a broom on his hand. I had not noticed the handle was a flute.

He told us his story: He was Electric Blue Hand, Commander Broom-The strange name came from the Maya Calendar. My Maya name was White Crystal Wind. Javier’s was Tuned Red Hand.

He came from El Carmen del Viboral,  where waters spring from in Colombia.. He was a conservationist who knew a lot about agriculture without pesticides. He had recuperated a place that had been a dump before. Now it was a beautiful orchard. He also recycled objects: from a beer or wine bottle he would make a glass with the lower part. With the upper part he would make a wind chime. He would put a cork at the top and a piece of metal with bird feathers or seashells inside. as clapper. He was strange but cute and I was afraid Javier would chase him out. especially when he started playing his broom-flute. But Javier had also liked him, and we went on to do the Three Lights Meditation. He told us he was living nearby at a friend’s house. He was barefoot and was wearing bathing trunks and a T shirt, but that was what all guys wore in the summer in San Bartolo. After he left Cathy told us he had paid for the time he had used the internet. “He is OK then.” Javier said.

As January went by he visited us often. He would sing the mantra Karmapa Chenno in falsetto and different tones. That was his way of integrating Dharma to his life. He was a joyful fellow. He would bring us small presents: paper rainbows or cardboard leaves. He listened to Javier as he told him about Lama Ole. He had told us the lady who was his hostess was pregnant. When she got close to childbirth he told us he needed a place to stay. In other words, he was asking for Refuge, but a material one.

The house had a garage, and a narrow veranda. Javier had bought an oven to make pizza. It turned out that Commander Broom knew how to make the dough. The garage became a Pizza shop and Commander’s room. In the afternoons he would sell pizza and ask the costumers their birth dates in order to tell them their Maya names. Ladies loved that and people would line up for their pizza.

Numbers had a special meaning for him: he would look at a license plate and would say “Oh great!·or “How bad!” All numbers had a meaning to him., even the time of day or phone-numbers.

Commander was a good cook and when on February 9^th it was Javier’s birthday, he baked a wonderful carrot cake.

Mano, as he called himself, loved the idea of Tibetan prayer wheels. He fabricated out of recycled parts one of his own which said Karmapa Chenno which he gave to Javier. He also gave us a wind chime which Javier put in the veranda. I also had one made for my grandson Jose Alfredo.

Summer was coming to an end and in March. Schools had started already, and San Bartolo was half empty during weekdays. Only on weekends the heat brought a lot of visitors.

Mano wanted to travel South to Chile and then go to El Bolson in Patagonia. That was an area full of hippies like him. Javier obtained from a friend of his, a bus ticket to Santiago for Commander Broom. It was the end of March of year 2001. He promised he would come back, and he did in 2005, when Javier was already living in the Buddhist Center on Ribeyro Street. He said he would keep in touch and put all his belongings in a coarse cotton sack and left.

Sometimes at night we would hear the wind chime and wonder where he would be.”There, hear the chime”-Javier would say-“I wonder where he is now!”

El Comandante Escoba y las Campanas del Viento de Cristal

Javier se mudó a San Bartolo, un pueblo costero a 50 kilómetros al sur de Lima a fines del año 2,000. Alquiló una casa de dos pisos cerca del mercado, en la calle Mar Pacífico. La casa tenía dos dormitorios, una sala-comedor grande que volvieron cabina de Internet con muchas computadoras, y una cocina y un baño. En el segundo piso había dos dormitorios: uno para en chino Javier Fon, el socio de Javier, y otro para María la cocinera. Caty, la secretaria  venía en bus cada mañana. Yo tenía mi casa en Lima, pero iba y venía y me quedaba lo más que podía. Mi hija y su esposo Jose cuidaban la casa porque vivían conmigo.

Javier amaba el Budismo tanto que le pidió a Hannah que su local fuera un Centro Camino del Diamante. Hannah le dio el permiso. Entonces ya tenía un centro Budista, pero necesitaba gente que viniera a meditar. Le pidió a Caty que le pusiera en la pared un letrero que decía: “Se enseña meditación. Interesados preguntar aquí.”

Un día vino Caty muy emocionada diciendo que había una persona que había preguntado por la Meditación. Había una habitación quedaba a la calle. Allí había puesto Javier su oficina. Estábamos sentados a la mesa de la oficina. cuando un guapo cuarentón de pelo y barba corta entró. Llevaba una escoba en la mano. No me di cuenta que el mango era una flauta.

Nos contó su historia: El era Mano Eléctrica Azul, el Comandante Escoba. El raro nombre venía del calendario  Maya. Mi nombre maya era Viento Cristal Blanco y el de Javier Mano Entonada Roja. El venía del Carmen del Viboral donde nacen las aguas, en Colombia.

Era un conservacionista que sabía de agricultura sin pesticidas. Había recuperado un terreno que había sido un botadero. Lo había convertido en un hermoso huerto. También reciclaba objetos. De una botella de vidrio de vino o cerveza, la cortaba y con la mitad de abajo hacía un vaso. Con la mitad de arriba hacía una campana de viento. Les ponía un corcho en la parte de arriba y un badajo de metal con plumas de gaviota o conchitas. Era raro pero tierno y tuve miedo que Javier lo echara, especialmente cuando empezó a tocar su escoba-flauta.

Pero a Javier también le había gustado, e hicimos la Meditación de la Tres Luces. Nos dijo que estaba alojado cerca, en casa de unos amigos. Iba descalzo y llevaba puestos una ropa de baño y un polo, pero eso era lo que llevaba todo el mundo en el verano en San Bartolo. Después que se fue, Caty nos dijo que había pagado por el tiempo que había usado la cabina de internet. “Está bien entonces”-dijo Javier.

Durante el mes de enero nos visitaba con frecuencia. Se ponía a cantar Karmapa Chenno en distintos tonos de falsetto. Era su modo de integrar en Dharma a su vida. Era alguien alegre. Nos traía regalitos: arco iris de papel, hojas a colores en cartulina. El escuchaba a Javier contarle sobre Lama Ole.

Nos había contado que la señora donde se alojaba estaba embarazada. Cuando se acercó la fecha del parto nos dijo que necesitaba un lugar para quedarse. En otras palabras nos estaba pidiendo refugio, pero uno material.

La casa tenía un garaje y una estrecha terraza. Javier había comprado un horno para hacer pizza. Resulta que el Comandante sabía hacer la masa. El garaje se convirtió en pizzería y en los aposentos del Comandante. Por las tardes vendía pizza y les iba preguntando a los clientes su fecha de nacimiento para decirles su nombre en el calendario Maya. A las señoras les encantaba y hacían cola para comprar la pizza.

Los números tenían un significado especial para él: miraba la placa de un auto y decía “Qué bueno” o “Qué mal”- Todos los números tenían significado para él desde la hora del día hasta los números de teléfono.

El Comandante era un buen cocinero, y un nueve de febrero cumpleaños de Javier preparó una excelente torta de zanahoria.

Mano, como se llamaba a sí mismo estaba encantado con la idea de las ruedas de oración tibetanas ,y de partes que recogió de distintos lados , fabricó una que decía Karmapa Chenno la cual regaló a Javier. También hizo una campana de viento de vidrio, que colgamos en el techo de la terraza..También me hizo una para mi nieto Jose Alfredo.

Estaba terminando el verano en marzo. Ya había comenzado el año escolar. San Bartolo estaba medio vacío durante la semana. Solo los fines de semana el calor atraía a un montón de visitantes.

Mano quería viajar al sur: a Chile para luego ir al “Bolsón”, un lugar en la Patagonia lleno de Hippies. Javier consiguió a través de un amigo un pasaje en bus a Santiago para el Comandante Escoba. Era fines de marzo del 2001. El prometió volver y lo hizo en el 2005 cuando Javier ya vivía en el Centro Budista de la calle Ribeyro.

Al irse el Comandante dijo que seguiría en contacto, y puso todas sus posesiones en un saco de yute y partió.

Algunas noches escuchábamos la campana de viento y nos preguntábamos donde estaría. “Escucha la campana.”-decía Javier.”Me pregunto dónde está ahora.”

CHE JULITO AND THE THEORY OF CHAOS

Sometimes from changes in temperature spring forth recollections of the past. One day at the end of January, Che Julito arrived in the first non stop journey from Misiones , Argentina to San Bartolo, a seaside town South of Lima. Lama Ole was coming to Lima for teachings, and he had come to listen to them and to visit Javier, who then had an Internet place in San Bartolo which was also a Buddhist Center.

Javier was one of the precursors of Internet in Peru and he had a gift for communications,. He had created a Forum in Internet called Budismo Peru, which later became Budismo Iberoamerica because of the amplitude of its participants. One assiduous member was Che Julito, a tall blonde history teacher from Misiones. They became friends with time, and on occasion of lama’s coming he was invited to visit. Julito accepted and got into a bus in his district and God knows  how long it took him, but he made it.

Both characters came to visit me and Julito treated us with a classic: ham and cheese sandwiches on Pullman bread and with tomato, lettuce and a lot of mayonnaise. Lima Center did not exist yet and we met at Carlos Vega’s apartment in San Isidro. Lama’s lectures would take place in Corpac, in Petro Peru’s auditorium. In a previous meeting we met a girl who would have a role in this story. She was called Gabriela. In the car on the way to the lecture she told us she liked Chaos Theory, by which all is subject to change and carbon in our bodies is the result of stardust. Che Julito seemed to like the girl, and the four of us came to my house after the lecture. He prepared his sandwiches. Gabriela appeared to like him too. She put her head on his shoulder and Julito started to ponder on love relations at a distance. Gabriela was talking about her theory and how “anything could happen”.

Late that evening after she took a taxi, the three of us went to take a walk by a nearby park. It was a quiet night with a soft summer breeze. There were no noises. The three of us sat on a bench in the park. Suddenly in front of our eyes (Julito’s and mine since Javier was blind) appeared a totally white owl crossing the sky. We later found out she lived on Henry’s roof, Henry is a neighbor friend of Commander Broom. We were dumbfounded and told Javier. I had already seen Harry Potter.

I don’t know if it was an omen or not. Lama Ole left us his teachings and we were exultant and grateful. Che Julito remained in San Bartolo while his money lasted . The girl did not answer his calls and went somewhere else with her Chaos Theory. Three weeks later Julito set forth on a return trip from San Bartolo to Misiones.

As to the forum, it had to be closed because of jealousy. Some persons invented that behind the Forum was a Venezuelan guy who had appropriated a Buddhism domain, registering it to his name. Lama believed it and Javier had to close it.

A long time after, Javier called Julito on the phone. He was sad and all he could say was:  “so many things, so many things.”

EL CHE JULITO Y LA TEORIA DEL CAOS

A veces la temperatura trae recuerdos del pasado. Un día a fines de enero llegó Julito en el primer viaje directo sin escalas  Misiones-San Bartolo. Lama Ole iba a dar charlas en Lima y él había venido a escucharlo y a visitar a Javier, el cual tenía en San Bartolo una cabina de Internet que dobleteaba como Centro Budista Camino del Diamante.

Javier era uno de los precursores de Internet en el Perú y tenía un don para las comunicaciones. Creó en internet un foro “Budismo Perú” el cual fue ampliado a “Budismo Iberoamérica” por la amplitud de los participantes. Uno de ellos, muy asiduo, era el Ché Juliito, un muchachón alto y rubio; profesor de Historia en Misiones. Con el tiempo hicieron amistad hasta que Javier lo invitó a San Bartolo con motivo de la venida del Lama. Julito accedió y se montó a un bus en su distrito y sabe Dios cuánto demoró en llegar a San Bartolo, pero lo hizo.

Ambos vinieron de visita a mi casa y el Ché nos obsequió con sus clásicos sándwiches: pan de molde blanco, lechuga, tomate, jamón y queso. con mucha mayonesa. El Centro de Lima todavía no existía y las reuniones eran en el departamento de San Isidro de Carlos Vega. Las charlas iban a ser en Corpac, en el auditorio de Petro Perú.

En una reunión previa a la charla del Lama, conocimos a una chica que tendría un rol en esta historia. Se llamaba Gabriela. En el auto camino a la conferencia, nos dijo que a ella le gustaba la Teoría del Caos, donde cualquier cosa puede suceder y el carbono de nuestros cuerpos es el resultado del polvo de estrellas.

A Ché Julito pareció gustarle la mina y después de la charla fuimos a mi casa a degustar los consabidos sándwiches. A Gabriela parecía gustarle él también. Bastó que ella le pusiera la cabeza en su hombro para que el Ché se hiciera toda clase de fabricaciones sobre amores a distancia. Gabriela hablaba como una lora sobre su teoría que “todo puede suceder.”

Esa noche luego que ella tomara un taxi, salimos los tres a dar una vuelta por el parque detrás de mi casa. La noche estaba serena, hacía una brisa suave y no había ruidos. Nos sentamos los tres en una banca del parque.

De pronto ante nuestros ojos (los de Julito y míos, Javier era ciego) apareció una lechuza totalmente blanca, cruzó volando el parque y desapareció.  Luego supimos que vivía en el techo de la casa de Henry, amigo del Comandante Escoba. Nos quedamos anonadados y le contamos a Javier. Ya había visto Harry Potter.

No sé si fue de buen augurio ver la lechuza. Lama Ole se fue y nos dejó encantados y agradecidos. Ché Julito se quedó en San Bartolo mientras el dinero le alcanzó. La niña de la historia no le hizo caso al Ché, no contestó sus llamadas y se fue a otra parte con su Teoría del Caos. Un día cualquiera tres semanas después de su llegada partía Julito de retorno de San Bartolo a Misiones.

En cuanto al foro, dejó de existir por celos de algunas personas que inventaron que el foro exclusivo de Javier lo dirigía un venezolano  que le había hecho daño a Camino del Diamante apropiándose de un dominio budista de Internet. Aunque era una calumnia hubo que cerrarlo.

Pasaron varios años y Javier llamó al Ché por teléfono, Estaba triste y solo decía: “tantas cosas, tantas cosas…”

DO NOT TAKE MORE THAN YOU CAN HANDLE!

By the end of year 2,000, Javier moved to San Bartolo, a seaside resort South of Lima. He rented a house and turned it into an Internet place, the first one in all the beaches South of Lima. I used to spend the summer there. Javier had taken Buddhism with enthusiasm and he loved to teach people how to meditate. He had put a sign on the wall which said “We can meditate together. If interested ask the clerk. Lama Ole had given him the blessing to make it a Center.

One day I saw in the marketplace a lady I knew. She had come with her husband. She introduced me and told me they had an apartment overlooking the ocean in North beach, close to the main square. I told the Javier lived close by. They invited us to their place the following week. They wanted to meditate too.

Javier was very enthusiastic about our new friends as we walked that afternoon. They had a wonderful view of the bay. We chatted for some time and then the husband suggested that we meditate. I had taken a booklet with Three Lights Meditation. We all sat in different places. When people are beginners, it is too hard for them to sit on the floor with legs crossed. They had meditated before but we all sat on chairs. I was reading the meditation. At some point it started to feel uncomfortable. There was the sensation of some negative energy. At some point it was so strong that it almost hurt. As we finished I felt some relief. My friend invited us some avocado sandwiches and some tea. All I wanted was to leave, and fast.

I asked Javier on the way home if he had felt the negativity. It was like swimming against the tide. “Something very dark” he said. We both suspected of the man, not the lady. She was warm and open and light. He was quiet and ominous. Still, we were not sure yet.

The house Javier had rented in San Bartolo had a garage. He bought and oven and started to sell pizzas. An Argentinian lady we met had given us the information of the supplies we needed for a good pizza and she was the first employee. Later Maria, the cook and faithful servant of Javier would learn how to make the dough herself.

One evening I told Javier my friend and her husband had come to eat pizza. The house had an outdoor patio, and there were a few plastic tables and chairs where you could sit and watch the stars and eat pizza. A little later the lights went out. That was really serious, because of the twenty computers people were using. They took their pizza carry out and left. After that incident, Javier would refer to the man as Gloomy.

Now Javier was sure it was the man. He was blind, but he had developed a sixth sense. Every time they came to visit us something happened. A light bulb would explode, there would be a gas leak and danger of an explosion. And who knows what else.

Summer ended and San Bartolo became sort of a ghost city. January and February it was a happy town, but schools started in March and even though it was hot, people only came on weekends. We did not see them anymore.
In April Lam Ole came and Javier told him about Gloomy. Lama gave wise advice. “Never take more than you can handle” he said.

When you start a spiritual path you may be too enthusiastic. We may have Protection from the Lineage, but there are negative strange things out there. One must be careful and not try one-s luck.

As to the couple, one year later I met the lady in Lima and she told me she was getting divorced from Gloomy. I was very happy for her. We would not have to see her husband again!

RICARDO ON A BIKE

Many years ago, in the mid-nineties, my friend Ricardo and I were invited to a party by a beautiful British couple. They lived just a few blocks away from my house. We decided to go together, and Ricardo, who lived in the same district but some twenty blocks away, came riding his bike. He left it in my house and we walked to the party.

Bob, the host was a nice fellow and he had invited many people I knew. His wife Hillary was a nice hostess and we had a great time. It was summer and the weather was pleasant, so we stayed till very late.

Ricardo had gone upstairs to the terrace. There they could smoke. I saw him come down to the kitchen and his face lit up when he grabbed a bottle of Vodka. I enjoyed the reunion, and as people started to leave I saw Ricardo come down into the kitchen. We said good/bye and headed for my house.

Ricardo was heavily drunk and he swayed and staggered as he walked. I suggested that he sleep in the guest room since I felt he could not ride home. Alas, he insisted in riding his bike. We finally arrived home and he rode off.

I had drunk a little, but was sober enough to be scared for him riding home so drunk. It was the early morning and all I could do was go to sleep and wait. I had never seen anyone make S movements on the sidewalk before. I slept off. When I woke up, the first thing I remembered was Ricardo on his bike.

I called his home and his mother answered. I asked if he was there and she told me he was sleeping. I felt so relieved I could cry.

Some days later, we met and he told me about his ride. He had fallen asleep on his bike. Goodness knows how he got home, but he had no recollection. Some of his friends who were sitting in an outdoor table in a restaurant on the way saw him go by fast asleep at the wheel.

Ricardo always made Lopong Tsechu laugh. They were close and he had given him many blessings. Only a great Protection made him come out of this one alive!
   

COSME’S DREAM

I quit writing on this blog because in April 2014, I found an editor. In July 2014 a book based on this blog called Lamas en Lima, was published and presented at the Lima International Book Fair. Months later I was supposed to travel to the city of Piura, in the North of Peru, to present the book in the Piura Book fair.

Cosme Saavedra is a Peruvian writer. He lives in Sullana, twenty minutes away from Piura. One night he had a dream. The world was at war. There were bombs and shelling. Among all this distress and violence, a small girl stood in front of him. She said “Help me.” He was moved by her dark eyes and asked her name. ”My name is Tara”, she said. He had never heard her name nor did he know anything about Buddhism.

A couple of weeks later, he received a phone call. It was a Lima editor who wanted him to speak on the presentation of a book. This editor had published a novel of Cosme in July. He was flattered and agreed to do it. As a local writer he thrived in book fairs.

He received a copy of the book by e mail and started reading it. It was about some Tibetan priests called Lamas and a Danish disciple who had come to Lima. He looked the name TARA up and it turned out she was a Buddhist Bodhisattva. He even learned she had a mantra OM TARE TUTARE TURE SOHA.

Cosme had only received half the book by mail. As I arrived in Piura I called him and we agreed to meet in a café called El Chalán. It turned out that we had met in Lima at the Book fair. Both our books had been presented together. That was a happy coincidence! As we had coffee I gave him a copy of my book so he could finish reading it.

The next day we had a nice presentation of my book in Piura’s main square. He did not tell me anything about his dream. He really liked my book. We parted friends.

I did not see him for two years. I recently returned to Piura to present another book of short stories and a book for children. He had agreed to present my book. We met, and in Piura’s main square he told me about his dream.

It made me wonder. We do not think about the consequences of our actions, but Bodhisattvas like TARA are always watching over us. The world today is a dangerous place, but with Buddha’s teachings it could become a better place.

EL SUEÑO DE COSME

Dejé de escribir este blog porque en abril del 2014 conseguí un editor. En julio de 2014 se publicó un libro basado en este blog. El libro se llama “Lamas en Lima” y fue presentado en la Feria Internacional del Libro de Lima. Meses después yo debía viajar a la ciudad de Piura, al norte del Perú a presentar el libro en la feria del Libro de Piura.

Cosme Saavedra es un escritor peruano. El vive en Sullana, a veinte minutos de Piura. Una noche el tuvo un sueño. El mundo estaba en guerra. Había bombas y fuego de artillería. En medio de toda esta violencia y tribulación había una niña pequeña parada delante de él. Ella le dijo: “Ayúdame.” Sus ojos negros lo conmovieron y le preguntó su nombre. “Me llamo Tara”, contestó ella. El no había escuchado jamás ese nombre, ni sabía nada sobre Budismo.

Un par de semanas después el recibió una llamada telefónica: era un editor de Lima que deseaba que el presentara un libro. Este editor había publicado una novela de Cosme en julio. Es se sintió halagado y accedió a hacerlo. Como escritor local disfrutaba las ferias de libros.

Cosme recibió una copia del libro en archivo por correo electrónico y empezó a leerlo. Era sobre unos sacerdotes tibetanos llamados “lamas” y un discípulo danés que venía a Lima. Buscó el nombre TARA en un buscador: resultó que era una bodhisattva  budista. Hasta aprendió su mantra: om tare tutare ture soha.

Cosme solo había recibido medio archivo. Cuando yo llegué a Piura lo llamé y quedamos en encontrarnos en un café llamado “El Chalán” en el centro. Resulta que nos habíamos conocido en la feria del Libro de Lima. Nuestros libros habían sido presentados juntos. Esa era una afortunada coincidencia. Mientras tomábamos café le di una copia de mi libro para que pudiera terminar de leerlo.

Al día siguiente tuvimos una bonita presentación, pero el no me dijo nada de su sueño. Le había gustado mi libro de verdad. Nos despedimos amigos.
No lo volví a ver en dos años. Regresé a Piura recientemente a presentar otro libro de relatos cortos y un libro para niños. El iba a presentar mi nuevo libro. En la Plaza de Armas de Piura me contó su sueño.

Eso me hizo meditar. Nosotros no pensamos sobre las consecuencias de nuestros actos, pero Bodhisattvas como TARA están vigilándonos siempre. El mundo hoy en día es un lugar peligroso, pero con las enseñanzas del Buda podría volverse un lugar mejor.