Where Wonder Meets Wander

I will be arriving in Mexico just in time for the Days of the Dead celebrations. Such conflict here. It is one of the most important holidays in Mexico, a time when they look death in the face and laugh at it. They create huge and beautiful alters filled with food and flowers and they stay up all night long in the graveyards waiting for their dead loved ones to come back. They tell stories and light candles and they will tell you many stories of their dead loved ones coming to visit. Day of the Dead is not a scary holiday and the Mexicans are not afraid of seeing their passed loved ones. They simply do not see death the way we do. I ran into this attitude in Panama too. Death is simply part of life. Yes, people mourn their loss, but they are much more connected with the whole process than we are. (My culture anyway) My husband passed away. My two-year old grand daughter saw him later that morning and she said, "I saw Boppy and he isn't sick anymore." I know ...

This is Jerry. He is homeless. I have shared some of his story with you, but I want to share the part that blew me away. Jerry was born in the very tough city of Colon, Panama. At birth his mother dedicated him to Lucifer. It sounds like a fanciful story, but Jerry was trained at a young age to serve Lucifer. I sat with him one evening late when it was raining. He laid out his piece of cardboard under the eves of a store and I asked if I could share his space and chat with him for a while. In a mix of Creole English and Spanish he told me his story. He told me of   The Engine a "very bad spirit" that was assigned to him at birth and still lives with him to this day. Jerry carries his Bible with him everywhere he goes. I think it is an attempt to ward off this bad spirit. He is a good guy, Jerry. He is trying to find redemption. And after hearing his story, I don't blame him..... To Love, laura Please check out our FULL WEBSITE at www.PovertyProjectIn...

There are things I have not shared about my time in Latin America. Its dark. Maybe dark isn't exactly the right word. There is a spiritual heaviness that hovers over the mountains and the islands. You can feel it when you walk through the rain forests, or drive through the cloud forests, or even when you lay on the sunny beaches. I have experienced things here that have really pushed the boundaries of my grid and left me having to re-evaluated everything I thought I knew about the things we can't see. For example, what do you do when you don't believe in Mayan folklore, you think Aluxes (Mexican leprechauns) are just children's tales, and then one shows up in your hallway? And what do you do when you don't believe in pirate spirits that inhabit the Caribbean and then one bends time and space and you end up miles from where you should have been in the middle of a raging storm on the water? I have stories to share. A lot of them. And I am exploring the sig...

El Silencio is an entity unto itself. A town in the lowlands on Costa Rica’s Pacific coast, it has an other-ess, a removed-from-the-world-ness, a something-is-under-the-rug-ness that lingers in its shaded palm groves. Turn off the main highway and follow the dirt road around the bend where the towering wide-rooted ceiba tree stands sentry and cross river on the narrow bridge with the sign that warns you not to fall off. Pass the palm-ringed soccer field and the carpenter’s shop with the piles of teak out front and you will find yourself passing tiny cement houses painted in bright pinks and blues and greens and apricots and tangerines. Stop there. Pull in at the mini-super—the tiny grocery store on the right, the one with the peeling blue benches out front—and you will find yourself at the spot where the smiling boy rode madly by on his bicycle. I don’t know if he was deaf, but I wondered. He never spoke. But he did smile a lot. The other boys gave him some respect, as if he we...

I refuse to be safe. I have been back in The States for about 6 weeks now and I keep hearing this phrase everywhere. "I'm so glad you're safe" Does this mean I wasn't safe before? I keep hearing it everywhere, not just directed at me. Everyone is saying it to everyone. Like Zombies walking around asking each other, "Are you safe?" "Yes, I'm safe."  "I'm so glad you're safe." What has happened?! Is the world such a big scary place out there?  I see all over Facebook people talking about how they are afraid for people who are traveling, especially going over seas. I see people saying they will never go anywhere. LORD< SEND ME! How can we change the world if we are safe? I believe this is all by design. I believe the powers that be want you to stay home and watch your TV. I believe they want to distract you, disconnect you, instill fear in you. PARALYZE YOU! Don't let them. Get out of your comfort...

I just put a YouTube channel together for Poverty Project International. Hoping to document the beauty of the poor places and change all of our minds! Documenting the Adventure, laura Please check out our FULL WEBSITE at www.PovertyProjectInternational.com Connect with us on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/povertyprojectinternational/ If you want to chat, you can email us at povertyprojectinternational@gmail.com Or if you want to help us out and DONATE, you can go to PAYPAL and send your donation to   povertyprojectinternational@gmail.com All donations are tax deductible. Live is an adventure, Live it!

I was thinking of the lovely neighborhood I live in with all its inconveniences and filth and I sat down and wrote this. Hope you enjoy it. Life in  Poor Village Picture this. You walk home from the store carrying two gallons of water, one in each hand. You turn off the main road and head down a dirt one where wooden houses--built on stilts and wearing curtains for doors--sit back from the road and make room for half-dressed children to play. You pass the furniture builder working in his little shop and he waves at you and says hi through the bandanna wrapped around his face to prevent him from inhaling wood dust. A teenager rides by on his bicycle, his hat on backwards, and smiles at you, A momma rides by on a bicycle too. She steers around a puddle in the road and almost loses her balances as she makes sure to wave.  You turn off the dirt road and onto a narrow sidewalk. You can see through the cracks in the walls of some of the brightly colored houses. Lau...