Special Moments

"Real friendship or love is not manufactured or achieved by an act of will or intention. Friendship is always an act of recognition."
— John O'Donohue (Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom)

Today I had one of those rare acts of recognition. It happened by the river as I was on my way to visit a healer.
But first I want to share another moment of recognition that happened last Wednesday in Puno, beside Lake Titicaca.

Last Wednesday morning, after a night with no sleep due to the alititude, I staggered to a chemist to buy some ibroprofen. It had rained most of the night, the pavement was wet.
Coming back, close to my hotel, I noticed a tall man maybe about 50 striding towards me. His eyes were distracted, one possibly with a catheract. His face was deeply lined and he was wearing the traditional clothes of the country people here. My first though was that he was from one of the islands on Lake Titicaca. But what was the drama, why the hurry ? He wore the familiar, local, rounded beige felt hat with red and purple ribbions waving like stremers on both sides, the thick short red fringed poncho, and black open sandles. No socks for country folk here, their weathered feet often look black.
He was unusally tall. I couldn't help staring at him as he came towards me.
Just as we became level, he caught my gaze and his eyes lit up. He grapsed both of my hands, and like finding a long lost sister, he pulled me around as if in a dance. I ended up facing the opposite direction. For a second he was elated and we both lauaghed. Then he became deadly serious and told me somebody had died. He asked me for one sole , that's about 25 centimos. I was so taken aback by this tragic story I wasn't able to take in the details.
Wait here I said, not allowing him to finish, I need to change a 20 soles note.
Crossing the road I bought a bottle of water and returned to the man with the change. I gave him five soles. He hardly looked at me , he was the picture of humiliation. Without a word he then rushed off down the street towards the lake.
Why didn't I gave him the 20 soles note ?
Why couldn't I hear the whole story ?

"Friendship is always an act of recognition."
John O'Donohue.
Money so often gets in the way.

This morning on the way to visit the healer I met an old woman by the river in Pisac. Pisac is a small village in the Sacred Valley here in Peru. It has fine Inca Ruins which draw many tourists.

By the river the sun shone and the brown water flowed fast.
I noticed a small figure standing by a signpost for a restaurant now abandoned. As I got closer I saw a fithy, tiny woman with a huge bundle strapped on her back. It seemed full of plastic sacks. Some cows were wandering infront of her, they ambled down to the river. I could see a man and a boy in the distance. The woman held out her hand and I greeted her. She couldn't speak and I think she was deaf. I pointed to the cows and she excitedly started to walk sideways towards them, still holding out the begging hand. I gave her five soles, and suggested we walk with the cows a little, I was early for my appointment.
At this stage she got more excited and started to mime something to me. I copied her mime and a small smile flashed accross her face. Still walking sideways, the same small smile coming and going, she continued to mine her story. How I wished I could understand it. Her dirty black dog got very playful with her . On his hindlegs he was almost taller than her. She brushed him away , now her smile was cheeky. I stopped, checked the time, and reluctantly realised it was time to go.

The desire to spend the whole morning, the whole day with her was so strong. What was her story, where did she live?

On this occasion money did not spoil the connection.


"Real friendship or love is not manufactured or achieved by an act of will or intention. Friendship is always an act of recognition."
"
John O'Donohue.

I am grateful that my life is full of moments of love that don't need to be categorised, just lived, breathed and shared.

And I am eternally grateful for the wisdom of the late much loved John O'Donohue. His priceless gift of illuminating the often incomprehensible lives on.