Friday, June 19, 2015
St. John’s, Newfoundland
Where’s That? Sometimes my American friends ask me, “Where’s that?” when I tell them I’m in Newfoundland.
“It’s near where the Titanic sank,” is my response. So they get it. It’s the perfect reference point. Here I am, in Newfoundland and its capital city, St. John’s. People here sound and look Irish. They are unmistakably the friendliest folks in the nation. Jan Peters is one of them. I’ve known her for twenty years. Loving and giving she is.
She picked up Brhat, my assistant monk, and I at the airport, took us to her
beautiful home and had all these ingredients ready for us to assemble one of my favourites – veggie wraps. We then moved on to the campus at Memorial U. to check out our lecture hall for the upcoming speaking engagement. A few extra posters informing students of the event were affixed to walls designated for this kind of program. “Tales from Trails” are highlighted along with mantra meditation. Oh yes, I met students there, some from Africa, India and China. It’s an international place for education.
Lasagna was waiting for us at Rashesvar’s place compliments of the chefs, Neil and Cathy, two doors down. Once again, I admire Newfoundlanders, I affectionately address as “Newfies” for your niceness.
The pace of life in Newfoundland is relatively relaxed. Air and water are clean. There are a lot of pros for being in Newfoundland, either as a resident or visitor.
The sun shone all day, giving pleasure until nightfall when rain partnered this night. I required sleep. My insomnia is at an ultimate high and I haven’t slept well for three days. The odd nap here and there doesn’t compensate.
Woe is me, being in this body has its accompanying turmoils. Bear in mind, our problems don’t have to be permanent.
May the Source be with you.