Last year I took part in a spiritual workshop, along with a dozen other people. When the time came to break for lunch, our teacher proclaimed a rule: no talking for the next 20 minutes. I was looking forward to discussing the morning’s experience with the other folks in the group so I felt quite disappointed. I sighed, took my sandwich out of its plastic bag, and started eating. I stood up and walked around the room to stretch my legs. Little by little the initial frustration gave way to a sense of peace and relaxation. Never in my life had I been in a confined space together with 12 other people without a single word being exchanged for 20 minutes. Gradually the well-being became even deeper: no need to think about what to say, or to pay attention to someone else’s story. No stress. No anticipation. No thoughts. Only silence. Soon I began to tune into the feelings inside my body. The tuna sandwich and the Asian pear morphed into a feast, which I savored slowly and fully. I could hear the crisp sound of my teeth chewing each bite as the flavors rushed through my taste buds and provoked a sensory explosion.
***
Mai and I just had a fantastic time admiring the Andean landscapes and the city of Quito from the crest of an old volcano located 3,770ft above it. Words cannot describe the feeling. Now we are sitting in the ‘egg’, taking the lift back to town. Two platinum blonde girls hop inside and sit across from us right before the doors close. Immediately they start talking. I guess they are Danish, maybe Swedish, I can’t be sure. The flow of words does not stop. Oblivious to the beauty of nature around us during our descent along the slopes of an ancient volcano, the girls chat. Mai clears her throat several times, a hint that we would like silence. They don’t get the clue. Finally after minutes that feel like hours, the chatter stops: one of the Danes grabs her cell phone and starts typing frantically. Click – click – click – click – click – click – click. I am amazed that such a tiny keyboard can be so loud. The conversation restarts, just as obnoxious as before. Another eternity passes before our prayers are answered again: silence settles into the small space. Breathing deeply, I enjoy the views peacefully, at last! A minute later, apparently terrified by the sound of silence, the girls resume their banter even more fervently. I can see murderous intent in Mai’s eyes, fantasies of opening the doors and throwing the two bitches out. I start a mental list of the things I hate most about tourists. 
Wise words from my spiritual teacher resurface in my mind: “When you don’t like a situation you only have three choices: accept it, get away from it, or change it.” I clear my throat and lean forward: “Excuse me. Do you speak English?” The Danes nod, so I continue: “Could we please have silence for a few minutes while we enjoy one of the world’s most amazing views?” It’s slightly more polite than “Shut the f**k up” but the effect is the same: the pair is in shock. Without a sound, they turn away from me and look outside. Maybe they finally notice the striking beauty that surrounds them. Or maybe they just reflect on how rude I was. I don’t care.
The silence that follows is a peaceful delight mixed with a taste of victory.
Cedric, 3/15/12
hahahaha! egg-cellent!