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Lisbet's life....so far

Wow Chris! A trip would be WONDERFUL! At least while you're only in the planing stages, you have time to do a lot of research prior to actually going.


I wonder how many people survived the volcano? I'd wonder if you school friends, your girlfriend you played with or the boy (with the necklace) died or lived?
 
Thank you. I think the only victims of the eruption on that day were me and my father. I have memories of the events leading up to Lisbet's death (I never know whether to refer to Lisbet here as another person, or me, so i shall just refer to her as being me from here on).


The fateful day was just like any other day...

My father and i had gone out hunting for food. We used to venture out a long way from home, and i think we would head towards the volcano as there were some lakes up there which were good for fishing (i'm not 100% sure about this, as we never actually made it to the lakes before the eruption on that day), but i remember my father took a contraption that looked like a catapult, and also a blowpipe with some darts, which he would use to hunt for small mammals or birds for us to eat. We never struggled for our food, this was just our way of life, for most of our food came from the village on market day.


We were on our way to the lakes for the fish, and we had stopped off on the way to pick some berries, and this was on the slopes around the foot of the volcano, which is a long way from any populated area. I remember picking the berries, and my father was sharpening the darts for the blowpipe, the ground had been trembling at frequent intervals, but i wasn't really that bothered by it as this was a common occurance for most of the time around here. We had been here for some time when there was an odd rumbling sound that became louder and louder and ended with a deafening "bang", and i remember going into a state of shock for a few seconds and feeling very disorientated. I regained my senses and felt my bladder emptying out of fear, i found my father was pulling me up by my wrists and yelling at me to run. The ground was shaking and i thought it was the end of the world. I looked back towards the mountain and saw a huge cloud of black ash rising from the summit.


Still a bit dazed, i got up and ran as fast as i could behind my father, who kept stopping to let me catch up. It seemed whichever direction we ran in, or however fast, we couldn't seem to escape from the huge cloud of ash hanging over us. I remember the intense heat, and gasping as there didn't seem to be enough air to breathe. It was at this point where my memories blend in with the recurring nightmares i used to have. My father had spotted the lake, and he was running towards it, kind of laughing out of relief as if he thought we were safe, he was beckoning me to follow him into the water.
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I've posted elsewhere what happened next, but neither of us survived the eruption. I'm certain that my friends would have survived, they would have been kilometres away, back towards where we lived, which would have been a safe distance away.


I found a picture that made me shudder, which closely resembles the image that is burnt into my mind, of one of the last scenes that i saw as Lisbet before she died. I stood and watched, petrified with fear as the cloud of ash collapsed and tumbled down the side of the mountain, with me in it's path, i didn't know which way to run, i opened my mouth to scream....and nothing would come out, i was that scared, this is often where i would be woken up from my nightmares....with that scream still caught in my throat.


It wasn't that long ago that i would have found it very difficult to post this, but ever since i worked my way through Lisbet's death using meditation, i've gradually come to accept everything, and it doesn't trouble me like it used to....although i find it difficult when i see anything to do with volcanoes on the tv....i would rather not be reminded... :eek:
 
I've spent a lot of this evening doing research on the internet, and i now feel 99% certain that Guamote is the village that i used to travel to regularly in my past life as Lisbet.


I'm very excited to find

youtube video of the village (the internet never ceases to amaze me!!) i watched it, and i was totally captivated by it. There isn't anything specific there that i can say that i recognize, but i can't describe the feelings i get watching it, it's not recognition, more like a sense of belonging...idk. I feel like i've been there before, especially when i see the images of the surrounding countryside, and the rivers, it all looks very familiar.
I also found out that the indigenous communities that lived in the areas surrounding Guamote, had names, like Mercedes Cadena, San Jose de Mayorazgo, San Antonio de Pungupala, and some others listed. Lisbet belonged to one of these communities, and i wonder if they date back to the 1950's, and whether i can find out which one she belonged to? If i could only find out, then maybe it's possible i could find someone who knew her, or her parents? But that's just a dream i want to come true at the moment...: angel


This is all very exciting for me, and i just had to tell someone, this is the reason for my post. This all makes me even more determined to save up for my trip now that i know where to go....and what to look for.... :)
 
I've had a few brief flashbacks and triggers, but apart from that, the memories seem to have dried up a bit lately. I don't get the chance to meditate so much these days, but once I get fixed up with my own place again, then hopefully I'll be able to continue remembering... ;)


I'm trying to deal with a huge amount of guilt that recently came over me from Lisbet's life. I've been working on a website dedicated to her, and I found it very therapeutic making it and writing everything down in one place, my feelings about everything etc. (see link in my signature)... ;)


I don't know if all this acted as some kind of trigger, because I woke up one day from a bad dream, with a heavy feeling in my heart, and I just felt like crying all day. In the dream I was back in the moments leading up to Lisbet's death. Everything was the same as usual, but I seemed to be more focussed on what she was seeing rather than what she was feeling, or perhaps the other way round I don't know. Obviously the fear was foremost in her mind, but in this dream I saw a higher level of detail around my father dying in the water (or so I thought). This is what I experienced:

I ran back to the water's edge and my father was thrashing about and screaming, I originally thought that he was in terrible pain, but he was actually yelling at me to run, waving his arms frantically in a direction away from the volcano. For several moments I didn't know what to do, I didn't want to leave him there alone, and I didn't want to be left to face this catastrophe on my own. I could have reached out to him, or held out a branch for him to grab on to. I didn't want to go in the water because I could see white smoke? or steam? rising from the surface.
I look at the mountain and the ash cloud is collapsing and rolling down the side towards us. In a moment of panic, I turned and ran, not because my father was ordering me too, but out of sheer terror. As I run I can hear the ash thundering down towards me with a whooshing sound, and I can hear the pitiful screams of my father calling my name over and over, this upsets me very much (even now).
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What happened from then on i've already written about somewhere in this thread, but I never realized before now how terribly guilty Lisbet felt when she died, if given another chance, she would have chosen to stay with her father and perish together rather than alone, but her fear took over, and she left him and ran. Now I wonder to myself if this guilt is the reason why I've been haunted so much by this particular life?


I want to end on a lighter note so I'll also share a little memory from my journal:... :eek:

"We've just arrived in the village and there's some kind of event about to take place, maybe a festival or some annual celebration, but we have plenty of time to wait until after sunset for it to start. Margarita is there with her mother and father, and me with my father, and we are on our way to their home to drop off our things and tie up the donkeys because It would be too dark for us to travel back home after the festivities have finished, so we are going to stay for the night, both me and Margarita are very excited about this. My Pappy has made me wear my best dress, but I hate it because it's so tight and doesn't fit me properly, Margarita looks much prettier in hers.
Us girls have walked on together ahead of the others and I sit down on a tree stump to fasten the buckle on my shoe, which has come undone. I hadn't been sitting there long when I begin to feel all wet around my backside, I quickly stand up and Margarita is pointing at my dress and sayin something with a very concerned look on her face. I pull the back of my dress around and there's a big dark green patch where I had been sitting on it. I look closer at the tree stump where I had been sitting, and it's covered in slimy green moss which I hadn't noticed before. We both look shocked at each other, then we start falling about laughing..... but I know Pappy's going to "kill me" when he sees it.


Our parents catch up with us and my father is mad about the dress. I'm too scared to tell the truth, so I tell him that I was playing around walking backwards and I tripped over a branch and landed in a puddle on my backside. Maybe I would have been better off telling the truth after all, because this excuse doesn't seem to do much to pacify him, and he's still upset when we arrive at Margarita's home and I have to change into the "not so pretty" clothes that we brought for me to wear on the journey home the following day."
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I did recall something in a dream a few weeks ago, and I wrote about in my journal:

We're in the village (Guamote I'm sure) and it's market day. I can see our cart, and on the side of it there's a flap on hinges that opens sideways. Pappy is selling various items that we've brought from the farm back home. On the back of the cart, I can see eggs, two large glass containers filled with a red liquid that looks as if it could be wine, some bananas and another green fruit, of which there doesn't appear to be much of.
I'm far too bored staying with Pappy and the cart, so I ask if I can go for a walk around the market, to which Pappy agrees, as long as I don't wander off too far, and i'm not gone for a long time, he says.


I remember it being a very hot day. I walk up and down the rows of different stalls, looking at the vendors sitting by their benches and carts, laden with all kinds of different items, like leather sandals on one, another has baskets of fruit. I can see several goats and two or three pigs in a small pen in the corner. There is a stall full of different cheeses, I can smell the cheese and an old lady with a leathery face holds out a tray and offers me a small piece. I look up at her shyly and take some, she has a big smile on her face, I say nothing and hunch up my shoulders and smile back at her before moving on to see if I can get anything else for free.


I walk a bit further on, when suddenly the boy who I have a big crush on jumps out from nowhere in front of me. He has seen me coming and decided to hide. He jumped out from between the stalls and startled me. He hands me a small bunch of purple flowers that he was holding behind his back, and he tells me they are from his mother and father's stall as he points to a cart in the distance. I can see the stall, full of colorful flowers. I take the flowers from him and smell them, they have a lovely sweet smell which makes me smile.


He's asking me how I am and how long since we arrived at the market, I tell him about the cheese and make a suggestion that he should go get some for himself. He takes me by the hand and asks me to go with him, but I hesitate, worried about Pappy and whether he will see us together. The boy tells me not to worry as he gives a gentle tug on my arm, so I look back and see my Pappy in the distance. He seems to be occupied with customers, so I agree to go with the boy, but not for too long in case I get in trouble.


We walk away from the market and across the road is a big open square. There is a grassy mound in the middle with a big leafy tree. We head towards it and sit down against the trunk with the tree shading us from the baking hot sun.


The boy places his arm around my shoulder and starts twirling my hair around his fingers with one hand, and with the other he is tracing little circles on the back of my hand. I put my head on his shoulder and we sit quietly together, watching the activity in the market, and just enjoying the moment together. I feel like I could stay here forever, but we can't stay long because Pappy will soon become worried about me.
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Sadly, that's where the dream ends. There's nothing much else to report, apart from a photo of Guamote that I found on Google, that I recognized, which was very exciting for me as it was the first kind of confirmation that I was remembering that particular village.
 
What a lovely memory :D It seems like young Lisbet was quite enamored with this boy. ;) I love the sweet simplicity of your memories - just little everyday things...but incredibly special moments in a girl's life. Thank you for sharing!


You must have been excited to find a validation via the photo of Guamote! Do you mind sharing what you recognized from the village?


Aili
 
That really is a lovely memory, Chris, and I think its simplicity and the emotions you describe make it very, very realistic. I would also like to hear what you remember about Guamote, if you're comfortable sharing - it's always good to hear about others' past lives!
 
Thanks very much Aili and Reynardine for replying, no I don't mind sharing at all...


I've researched and found quite a few pictures of Guamote, and although most of them had a familiar "feel" about them, there were none that I could put my finger on and say "yes, I was there".... not until I found this one. When I first saw this picture I immediately had a flashback and found myself as Lisbet with my friend, Margarita. Again, it was a baking hot day, and we had just joined this road from a dirt track behind us and to the right.


Margarita and I were walking some distance ahead of the others with the cart, and I had suggested to Margarita that for a bit of fun, we should tread along those rail tracks, me on one, and her on the other, a bit like tightrope walking - :D I remember Margarita had sandals on, but I was walking barefoot. When I stepped onto the railtrack, my foot sizzled on the metal where the sun had made it so hot, and I remember hopping around and holding my foot in pain.


The picture was instantly recognizable and gave me a weird feeling, because I know that i've never been there, but somehow, I just know this scene, and what is around that bend.


I'm positive that there are a row of low built houses, some of them are on columns (or stilts) supporting balconies. I have previous memories of going round that bend and seeing an old lady standing outside the door of one of those houses, and she was jumping up and down and waving her arms in the air as if she was waiting to greet us.


How i'd love to be able to step into that photo and walk round that bend to see if i'm right, which i'm certain I am. It's a strange feeling to see a picture of somewhere where Lisbet actually walked, I can only imagine how it would feel to actually go there and walk in her footsteps, what an incredible feeling that would be.
 
Several months ago I had a flashback to my previous life as Lisbet, In this flashback I was in a village called Cosanga, and I was in my grandmother's house and she was showing me how to make bread.


This morning, during a meditation, I revisited this memory and recalled some more details. I remember calling my grandmother - "Grammy". She was preparing the bread on a flat tray that looked as if it was made of clay. But she was shaping it in a certain way that made it appear to have a head and a body, like some kind of figure.


I heard several words in what I assume to be Spanish, and it was odd that I seemed to understand what she was saying to me, but at the same time, I didn't know what the words meant, a very odd experience which is hard to describe. But the words " hwah-wah de-pah " stuck in my mind (obviously the spelling is incorrect - i've written them here as they sounded to me) But my Grammy was using these words to describe the bread, and they kept on coming up during the conversations. I also remembered a big black oven on four long legs, with a window in the front, where I could see the flames, and I remembered just sitting there and watching the bread baking on a shelf above the flames, and I can clearly remember the smell of the bread filling the room.


We were dressed for a special occasion, my Grammy was completely dressed in black, and I was wearing a long maroon colored skirt with thick black tights, and a dark shawl with tassles wrapped around my shoulders. I didn't look very smart at all, but under the circumstances, I think I was wearing the best clothes that Pappy could afford to buy me.


The bread that we're making has something to do with the special occasion, we were going to take it and either eat it, or leave it somewhere along with some other food. As my Grammy was dressed all in black, I wonder if we were perhaps going to a funeral?


I wonder if anyone can help me to translate "hwah-wah de-pah"? Maybe it's just nothing, but obviously I'm curious to know what it means. I've looked up "bread", which is "pan" in Spanish, so maybe it could be "hwah-wah de pan"? - :confused:
 
Chris~


What a fascinating memory!!! Look what I found:

Calderón, located northeast of Quito, is famous for its bread. As soon as you enter this town, you will find shops selling colored figured made of flour and water in every corner.
This tradition started because every year, during All Souls Day, people make small dolls made of bread called "guaguas de pan". These dolls, as well as other figures shaped as men, women and donkeys made of wooden molds, were decorated with a simple cross over the chest in green, black, or red and were offered to the hungry souls of the dead. Eventually, people started to give these dolls as gifts to children and friends.
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Pictures and


Guaguas Pan-Day of the Dead


colada-guaguas.jpg
 
Splendid, Moondansyr ! And a wonderful validation for you, Chris ! :thumbsup:


Eevee
 
Oh my goodness, Kat, i'm totally - speechless!! - :butbut:


I don't know how you found that, I was searching and searching all morning and I couldn't find anything, but I had no clue what I was searching for. Thank you very much for your help, it fits with the memory. I just found this:

The Ecuadorian Day of the Ancestors isn’t quite like the Mexican Day of the Dead, nor is it like American Halloween. El día de los difuntos is a time to celebrate one’s dead ancestors. In the small country villages, families dress in their finest clothes and carry a meal to the cemetery, where they dine on top of the grave of their ancestors. One plate is always left for the dead ancestor. This traditional meal includes guaguas de pan and the colada morada.
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I Googled "guagua de pan" (I take it that it's pronounced "hwah-wah?") and it means "bread baby". I don't remember us decorating it any way, or using a wooden mold to make it, but hey, it's good enough for me - :D


Now i'm wondering which relative we were going to celebrate at the cemetery? Maybe my grandfather? I have no memories of him. Or perhaps it was my mother? - :(


Thank you again - (((( Kat ))))
 
My gut reaction was that you were going to visit your mother, but maybe both! Do you know if this was your maternal or paternal grandmother?
 
I've always felt that she was my paternal grandmother, but thinking about it, there's no reason why she shouldn't have been my maternal grandmother.


I didn't feel sad when I was remembering this particular memory, quite the opposite in fact. I thought perhaps I would have felt sad if it had been my mother that we were going to visit, but then again, she wasn't there for most, if not, all of my life.


Thanks again for the info Kat, It's nice to have something new to research. And thank you everyone else for your comments by the way, they're very much appreciated - :)
 
I know I haven't updated this thread for some time, but I just wanted to share a part of something I remembered several weeks ago from this past life, and then something I found through research last night. First the memory from my journal:

I am in the village and there is a very large crowd of people, much busier than it is on market day, I can tell that many of these people are not from these parts. I can see the usual array of market stalls, an old gentleman selling various sized containers that have been weaved out of some kind of straw like material. I see an old woman selling pottery, her hands are gesturing towards the sky as if she's praying for more customers. The village is brightly decorated with bunting criss-crossing the street from one house to another, a burning incense like odour is filling the air, many of the people are dressed in traditional Ecuadorian costumes, others in fancy dress. There is some kind of festival taking place and I can hear plenty of loud music playing, lots of people dancing and singing in a carnival atmosphere.
I have a part to play in the procession which is making its way through the main street of the village. Myself and three other girls in white dresses with a yellow sash and yellow ribbons in our hair which seems to make a big impression on me as I very rarely seem to have an opportunity to wear anything as pretty as this. There are two little boys with us each leading a llama and us girls are dancing around them, flitting in and out and between them on tiptoe, each of us are holding a short pole with red and white streamers trailing out behind us, making a wavy pattern as we swirl our arms around. We've been rehearsing this dance together all day.


I'm feeling extremely proud of myself being a part of this procession, and I'm scanning the crowd of people, looking for my Papi among the spectators, I know he's waiting to wave to me as I pass by. Some people in the crowd are throwing single flowers at us but I'm too busy to catch any or pick any of them up, some of them land on the llama, but they soon fall off, I don't think we manage to save any of them by the time we finish.


Finally I can see Papi, he's climbed up on top of a porchway in front of one of the houses, and I can hear him calling me, he's got his hat in his hand and he's waving frantically, trying to catch my attention but I've already seen him and a big smile breaks out on my face as we make eye contact. I can see him tapping on somebody's shoulder and pointing at me, probably telling a complete stranger to look at his daughter :D , he looks very proud of me.
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I was curious about this special dance that we were performing, it felt like a traditional kind of dance and I've been trying to find out if there was any evidence of that amongst other things. I haven't found out very much, but I did find the following extract last night from an article on Quechuan dances in a website on the 'Cultures of the Andes', I guess it is possible that it is referring to the dance that I remember performing:

Llamera:
A llamera is an Andean girl who takes care of llamas. These dances are very pretty, and were composed by the llameras who dance and sing while pasturing their llamas, or while traveling with the llamas along the lonely mountains. In the present time, it is not just the mountain girls who sing and dance this, but also girls in every city of the Andes, in any major event or celebration.
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Hi Chris,


Just curious about whether you have, in this life, been around llamas or alpaca. I wonder if you would have any special fondness for them that has followed you to this life. I suppose they could be a trigger for you - what do you think? They are pretty neat animals.
 
Hi stardis, thanks for asking :) I always feel that my fondness for animals in general may have carried over from that life, but I have to admit, up until last night I didn't even know that it was a llama I was seeing in that recall :eek: I recognized the animal, and of course I've heard of a llama, but I couldn't make the connection until I found a picture of one on the internet, maybe that's because the llama can only be found in a zoo here in the UK.
 
I am not terribly experienced with the animals but, being a weaver of sorts and having a fondness for yarns and fiber, I have been around them on numerous occasions. The llama can be kind of a large animal and the alpaca is fairly small. The alpaca make a sound like they are humming and a group of them will make you wonder where that noise is coming from. They are both wonderful animals but when you see the smaller alpaca, you will instantly want one - they have the cutest face.


We have had our yard full of llama when they escaped from a nearby farm. Once a rancher tried to talk us into removing the backseat from our automobile and taking some alpaca home with us - they were too expensive at the time or we might have left common sense behind along with the backseat.


I wonder how you would enjoy going to a yarn store or a weaving store and just sitting at the loom and putting your hands on the polished wood or picking up the different skeins of fibers. Maybe something like that might have been somewhat familiar to Lisbet. Even though she died too young, weaving and fiber may have been something she was growing up with. If Lisbet came from a home where there was weaving, perhaps she would have been familiar with the simpler backstrap loom or a vertical loom.
 
Thanks for the short alpaca story stardis :D They are very similar looking animals but i'm certain it was the llama in my memories.


I would certainly visit a weaving shop if the opportunity to do so arose. I don't know of any local to where I live however, but I will keep it in mind. Lisbet did have some experience with weaving ;) but the backstrap loom and vertical loom mean nothing to me in my present life, maybe that's something else I can research on a rainy day.


Thanks for your support :)


Chris
 
Yeah Stardis, I can relate to your fondness of Alpaca's !When I visited America a few years ago, I went to the Indiana State Fair, and there they showed some Alpaca's. I had the opportunity to pet one, and I will never forget how it felt to touch that fur. It was one of the most lovely sensing experiences I ever had !


Eevee
 
ChrisR said:
Hi stardis, thanks for asking :) I always feel that my fondness for animals in general may have carried over from that life, but I have to admit, up until last night I didn't even know that it was a llama I was seeing in that recall :eek: I recognized the animal, and of course I've heard of a llama, but I couldn't make the connection until I found a picture of one on the internet, maybe that's because the llama can only be found in a zoo here in the UK.
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Chris, I would think the llama was a good validation in itself, as you did not know the name of the animal until you looked it up.


If you Google Llamas farms Devon - there are a lot of entries. I am sure you could get to meet one without much difficultly. There is even a llama trekking place.
 
Hey thanks Maxine :thumbsup: that's what I love about the internet, somebody halfway round the world suggests to me that there's a llama farm in my county, I Google it and there IS a llama farm in our neighbouring town less than 3 miles away :D I will definately pay it a visit, thanks for the info :thumbsup:
 
Hi Chris,


Those are fantastic memmories that realy open the mind to past lives and of course the driver behind validaiton and subsequent research.


I love the internet as well, for example in one of my self regression session the narator mentioned "current events" I instantly had the idea of "painter just died", not really knowing anthying about artists let alone Belgian artists, I immediatly turned to Wikipedia, sure enough the date I had come up with was with in 2 weeks of a famous Belgian painter dying in Brussels (the only Belgian painter who died in 1959).


Perhaps the single most best resource though is Google Earth, how cool is that!


~C~
 
I love hearing about memories that have been varified. With the help of the internet, its never been easier than it is right now. :thumbsup:
 
Thanks everyone for your comments :thumbsup:


I've been trying to find out some more information on the Llamera and I couldn't find anything at all. However, while researching, I came across the Llamerada, which is a traditional South American dance. Now I don't know if the two words have the same meaning, and 'Llamera' was maybe a typing error in that website? Or whether the Llamera is one who dances the Llamerada? The Google images of the Llamerada do not match what I have remembered, so I'm a bit hesitant to call this a validation now, not unless there are different variations of the dance and the costumes. :confused:


Not that any of it really matters, it was still a nice memory to remember :)
 
Hi, Chris --


Are there any hints as to what day the festival was? It sounds like there were quite a few tourists present, maybe you can google Ecuadorian festivals.
 
Hi Jody, thanks for the suggestion :)


I could only find one festival on Google. The Johannes Festival is celebrated in Guamote each year on the 24th June, I don't have enough information to confirm that it was that date, or that festival, but coincidentally, that was around the time that I recalled this memory.
 
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