At Least It's Organic

One of my favorite things about our school is the location. It's close enough to our home to walk to. It's in a secure area. Most importantly, there are a variety of fantastic mom and pop type food places to get lunch. We have a cupcake shop, a cookie bakery, an organic soup and salad place, an organic sandwich shop, and now a freshly opened Italian place.

We have about an hour for our lunches so we have enough time to get to and from lunch on time. It gives us some variety. Most of the places don't charge more than $4-6 for a full meal. Some places charge much less. We've been pretty fortunate.

On Monday of this week, we went to the Italian place and I got a nice little chicken lasagna and Shannon got some tortellini. Of course, since it's an Italian place it came with a nice salad. We were enjoying our lunch together and finishing up our salads when Shannon froze with a look of horror on her face. I'm talking about one of those deep within your gut fear faces. Her face went white and her eyes went as big as saucers and she looked down at her plate. In her plate, hiding behind a small cherry tomato was a slug. He was wiggling around and about an inch in length.

I looked at it, and back up at her. I didn't say anything; I just froze. It was one of those make or break moments where your reaction dictates the next moment. It was sort of like when a baby falls down and isn't sure whether to cry or laugh. I just waited. And waited. Eventually she regained her composure and we talked about it for a minute or so.

I went up to the owner/chef and showed her the slug. She looked embarrassed and apologized profusely. I think her reaction saved her. "Lo siento ustedes...pero es organico?!" Translation: I'm sorry guys, but...at least it's organic."

Shannon lost it. She started cracking up and we were immediately endeared to the owner again. She could have been defiant. She could have lied about it. She could have been flippant but instead, she made us laugh.

Later in the meal she came over, put her two index fingers above her forehead and said "Lo siento por el (insert word I don't remember here)" and then she made finger antennas to replicate the slug. It was genius.

In a few minutes when it was time to pay, I went up with the check and she said, "Don't worry, you don't have to pay for the salads." I nodded and paid and on our way out of the restaurant I realized...we didn't ask for salads. It was one of those things that just came with the meal. This sly joker said we didn't have to pay for it like she was comping us a meal and all the while it was the free part anyway?! Oh well...at least it was organic.

Bread Babies? Bread Babies.

A few weeks ago we wandered into our local bakery and among the delicious caloric chocolaty monstrosities we found something that looked a bit different. It looked like a giant gingerbread man, but instead of gingerbread, he (and she in some cases) were made of sweet bread. Their features were made up of icing much like the icing on a gingerbread man. The biggest difference is that a traditional gingerbread man is about the size of your palm and this thing was the size of your forearm.

Of course we got two. We tried them and they were kind of like flaky croissant like sweet rolls. They were delicious. While it was good, the thing I kept coming back to was the fact that it was a baby, not a grown man like a gingerbread man. We were eating sweet sweet colorful bread babies. There is a certain visceral satisfaction to crunching the parts off of an animal cracker, but eating a bread baby was a little unsettling at first. The roll was almost the size of an actual human baby. 

Nonetheless, we enjoyed it and found it in nearly every store or bakery we went to. It was apparently an Ecuadorian traditional food. We picked them up every now and again and sooner than later the whole baby eating thing faded. We only found out recently what this was all about; oh and by the way, they are called Guaguas de Pan aka babies of bread. Here is a brief history of our delicious bread babies and their place in Ecuadorian culture.

On November 2nd, All Souls Day is celebrated in Ecuador and over the Andean region, with unique manifestations of religious syncretism. Throughout the country people visit the memorial parks to honor their departed. Indigenous communities massively visit cemeteries keeping an old pagan tradition of taking along the favorite food dishes to share with their loved ones by their graves.

They eat quietly and slowly in a solemn ceremony, sharing food among the families. Some of them circulate around the cemetery exchanging foods. They give food as a reward for those who pray for their departed.

The ancient belief is that the soul visits its relatives during these days and should have plenty of food to be fed and be able to continue further on its journey to the afterlife.

The typical food for All Souls Day is “guaguas de pan”, accompanied by a beverage called “colada morada”. These foods have a remote origin in the Incas, who offered their gods their bodies and blood in sacrifice ceremonies.

“Guaguas de pan” is bread baked in the shaped of child figurines decorated with pastry – colorful frosting. “Guagua” is the Quichua word for “child”.

“Colada morada” is a drink of a variety of berries with other exotic fruits and spices that give this beverage its purplish color.

Now day’s families take advantage of the day which is to visit the grave site and a mass is generally offered for those family members now gone out of respect.   The colada and guaguas are enjoyed in a much more festive atmosphere!

Restaurants offer the most elaborate meal leading up to this celebration, goes for weeks before and after.  Bakeries also offered decorated bread dolls. 

Enjoy this tradition and the vacation.

We may not know all of the traditions yet, but we're finding them on our own with some success. 

Football Sundays

It's been a little longer than I anticipated between posts. Things have been going well and we are settling in nicely. There was so much change and excitement for the first few months we got here that it has been nice to have a routine a little bit.

In the past few weeks, we both got a little stomach bug from some stuff we ate but that's no big deal. We outfitted out patio area with some nice bamboo plants to make a hedge, an orange tree, and a lime tree so that will be nice when I get my grill finally. Shannon hosted a ladies night at our house and I hear it went well. You couldn't have paid me enough money to hang around while 12 of our female coworkers drank wine and laughed loudly.

Part of the nice thing about a routine is a level of comfort. We were actually able to find a few NFL games on Sundays and that has been one of the best parts of our weekly routine. (When I say our routine I mean I watch football and Shannon reads while in the same room) Last weekend we hosted a football Sunday get together and had a few expats join us. The games are live, so I don't have to wait to watch them and the play by play being in Spanish has helped me develop my own vocabulary. It is always great and unexpected when you hear things like Tony RRRRRRRRRRRRRRomo (rolling r) por seis puntossssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss! The enthusiasm is very much like the soccer games they televise.

We have quite a few adventures coming up personally, professionally, financially, and involving family and friends so there will be some interesting things to discuss. In the meantime, thanks for following what we're up to and as always, keep the comments coming. We love rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreading them. (rolling r)

Getting Around Town

Living in a new city and exploring has been a blast so far. There is so much to do and see. The challenge however, is in doing the exploring without a car. We’ve been getting around by walking, hitching rides with friends, and getting around in taxis. It’s pretty reasonable when it comes to the price. It’s almost a completely different animal in terms of cost. In the states, the average cab ride for about five minutes will cost about $5-7. Here, a five minute ride costs about $1.80. It’s been more than reasonable.

Getting a cab is pretty simple, even in a big city like Quito. They spot foreigners and pick them up with a quickness. Apparently, it’s a cultural norm to not tip very much on anything. Foreigners are usually picked up more frequently than locals because they have a tendency to tip a bit more. Cab drivers see people like Shannon and I and they see dollar signs.

It’s not that simple though. The taxi drivers have developed a sneaky system. After picking up the people they determine might be foreigners, they completely “forget” to turn on the meter. When you go three blocks without noticing the meter, your fare is all of the sudden assessed a “gringo tax” and your rate will be about $6. I call this the “Oops, I forgot?”

It’s basically your job to remind them to turn on the meter and if they don’t you have to negotiate a price before the driver puts the car in drive. It’s a constant game of cat and mouse.

If you don’t ask the rate ahead of time, they will either give you a bloated price or they will wait  like a silent cobra to sniff out if you’re a local or not. When you pull up to your location, a person who is living in Ecuador will automatically hand them the proper amount without having to ask. If you ask how much, they will know that they’ve got you and will make up whatever price they think they can get away with. I call this “Going Fishing.”

There are some other moves they have as well. My personal favorite is the one where they say their meter is broken. To prove this, they put their index finger about an inch or so away from the on button and pretend to push it, never getting closer than an inch. They look at you and shrug and say it won’t work. Again, they don’t even touch the button, but “Sorry Gringos, it doesn’t work…you’ll have to trust me on how much this is supposed to cost.” It took a few times for us to catch on but we’re on to that now. This is called the “What Can I Do?”

Another classic move that was by far the most impressive I’ve seen is the hidden meter trick .They will pick a person up and put their meter in the glove box. On a recent trip to a restaurant, Shannon and I got into a cab and assumed that they were pulling a “Going Fishing” which is pretty common. We hand them how much it’s supposed to cost without asking how much, and we’re good to go. Well…we were wrong. We got to our destination and I handed him $2. The driver smiled with a sly Grinch-like grin and flipped down the sun visor where he had his meter on and running, apparently long before we got into the cab because it was more than three times what it should have been. I hassled him a bit and told him he knew it was on and he was trying to screw us and he just smiled and held out his hand. I have to admit, he got us on that one.

As we catch on to their tricks and learn to counter them, they come up with more. It’s always an adventure here, even going from point A to point B. Perhaps soon, we will get a car and be done with that mess. In the meantime all we can do is have fun with it and stay on our toes.

Homecoming...2000 Miles Away

This is about to get cheesier than a Kraft factory, so if you aren’t into that and you tune in to this blog for the fun action adventure stuff, feel free to check out now and reread my epic Ali-Frazier like battle with a llama or any other thing you want. Also, the story covers a lot and I’m not good with brevity, so it’s a long one.

So far we have been in Ecuador a week shy of two months. We love the weather, the school, the people, and how much there is to do here. We’ve only been exploring and experiencing things for a short while but in that short while some of our accomplishments include:

·         Finding a job

·         Getting our shipment to Ecuador

·         Getting some shots

·         Getting our visas and other paperwork

·         Finding a home

·         Meeting some new friends

·         Figuring out how to get to and from the grocery store

·         Figuring out that there are infinitely better options in Ecuador than the grocery store

·         Exploring restaurants

·         Figuring out our new jobs (new roles for both of us)

·         Getting settled in with paintings, plants and all of that

We’ve been busy. Yet there was still one huge to do on our list; reuniting our family. To pet owners, this makes sense. To people who prefer not to deal with the inconvenience of having a pet, they won’t get it.

A lot of people feel the need to collect creature comforts to make their house feel like a home. Everyone I know has either purchased a painting, flowers, pillows, furniture, or a bedspread for the aesthetic design. Personalizing your four walls and a roof seems to be a natural thing to do. It makes some stucco, drywall, insulation, and paint feel like a safe place. There’s a reason helping people move sucks. Everyone has dozens of boxes of things that are “theirs;” things that make their house a home.

For me, it’s a little different. Sure I enjoy a nice painting, or a pretty plant; but for me a home is where my family is. When I was 19 and just moved out of dorms and into my first apartment that was MINE, one of the first things I did was get a dog. My family has always had pets and dogs specifically were always a part of my life so it seemed natural to get one. In the subsequent 8 years, I have moved 7 times. I have lived in different states, different countries, and different apartments within a stones throw. I have had one roommate, two, three, and none. I loved those 8 years and the experiences they afforded me. I feel like some of the people I’ve shared living space with and people I’ve met along the way have changed my life permanently for the better. However, the ONLY constant in those years was my dog Howie. Everyone says their dog is the best and I’m no exception. I think that a large part of that is the fact that a dog is kind of a reflection of yourself. It has the same routine as you, shares experiences with you, eats what you feed it, and is trained by you. Howie is happy, calm, protective, and most importantly to me, not annoying. He has greeted me at the door every single time I’ve walked in from work, a restaurant, or a night on the town with unfiltered joy and enthusiasm. Being around him gives me great joy and he’s been there for every moment I’ve been home for 8 years. My family has grown a bit over the years as I’ve lived with dear friends, and now Shannon. What this last paragraph was saying in many many words, is that I don’t need plants or fancy duvets, (duvet, that’s a thing right?) what makes a home to me is having my family there. Sharing an evening with Shannon and Howie is what makes four colored walls a home.

Now, I’ve known that I would follow Shannon anywhere in the world for a long time. Overseas teaching was something that had crossed my mind on a very preliminary level and I was open to the idea. Pairing that with my sense of adventure, it seems retrospectively like I was destined for it. When Shannon floated the idea out to me in a casual conversation once, I was in. Shortly after that conversation was a more serious and pointed conversation about logistics of the job fair and other broader picture topics. I told her “I really don’t care where we go. I’d be happy anywhere as long as we could figure the city and country out together. My one big concern is whether or not I can bring Howie.” That statement was on the forefront of my mind throughout the job fair and as soon as we found a school that seemed like a perfect fit for us, I knew before asking that they would allow dogs. Now that a home country was figured out, it was time to get the specifics. Leaving him behind was NOT an option.

After the fair, there were some weeks devoted to research and logistical ways we could bring Howie and the end result was that he couldn’t come with us when we left for a variety of reasons. It would be too hot in Florida. We didn’t have a place to stay that allowed dogs until we found a place. We wanted the freedom to figure our lives out and settle before adding the structure of dog walking and the like. Our end result was Howie would be staying with Shannon’s family in their beautiful new lake house until I could fly back and get him. Well…it wasn’t exactly that easy.

If anyone is reading this for insight into moving to Ecuador, and you plan on doing it with a dog, pay very close attention to all that it entails; or at least what it entailed for us. Before Shannon and I left, we had to buy a crate that would fit his big furry behind, yet would meet the maximum weight requirements of American Airlines. We shopped around and found one for just under $175. Shannon went ahead and purchased some sweet “Live Animal” stickers and arrows pointing which way was up. She did not, however take my suggestion of some racing stripes or flames that could shoot out from the door. She’s the practical one. Before we left, I also had to take him to get his shots 6 months before his departure. That was no issue since he was up to date on everything and ahead on others. He only needed two or three new ones.

All of the sudden, like it crept up on us, it was time for us to leave and there was a laundry list of things left to do. It was a major bummer for me to leave Howie knowing it would be two months before seeing him again. The longest I’ve gone without seeing him was a 7 day vacation. We’ve got a solid bond. By doing some quick math I calculated that over 8 years, I have walked him about 5,950 times; each one for about a half hour. That’s a lot of bonding time, and a huge chunk of a daily routine. Nonetheless, I knew he was in good hands so I gave him a last belly rub, told him to practice his Spanish using the dog friendly program “Rosetta Bone” and went on my way.

Candy and Howie at the Lake House

This is where I express to you guys a glimmer into the gratitude that I hold for Shannon’s whole family, and her mom specifically for all of her help. Imagine the nightmare of events that she had to, begrudgingly agreed to, was willing to, was happy to help with. The first saintly thing Shannon’s family agreed to do was harbor Howie for two months while we got settled. This entailed long walks twice a day, even when he decided occasionally that he was in fact, a sled dog. It also entailed feeding him, brushing him, and enduring his girlish weeping and whimpering whenever it thundered. Side note: did you know it thunders in Florida 100% of the days in August and September. They had to amuse him by pretending to succumb to his charm when he conned them into belly rubs. He’s no easy dog to take care of, but they did it and for that I will ever be grateful. However, taking care of one dog may be a challenge, but simultaneous to our move, Shannon’s sister was caught up in job related globe-trotting and Shannon’s parents were tasked with not only taking care of Howie, but they also had another one come into the fold in the form of a somewhat neurotic energy ball of furious love named Franklin. So on top of the Howie nonsense, they had to put up with the antics of two bickering cousins who acted very much (I assume) like Ren and Stimpy together. The role of neurotic smaller one with the angst of 1000 teenagers, yet a heart of gold was played by Franklin. The role of the large, dopey, energetic, sometimes fumbling one was played by none other than Howie. It must have been a hoot.

Anyway, their work didn’t stop at dog sitting the dynamic duo. Exactly 21 days prior to Howie’s trip, he had to go to the vet to have the vet administer flea and tick medication as well as other anti-parasite stuff. So Shannon’s mom volunteered to take a day off of work to drive an hour to Howie’s vet to take care of this menial task that “had” to be performed by trained professionals.

This is where it gets tricky. It’s almost impossible to find all of the necessary regulations. The vet had one set of regulations, the Ecuadorian Embassy another, the USDA another, and the airlines another. So without clear answers I consulted the internet. There was no singular place that could give clear coherent answers. Every time I read something I felt like I was trying to decipher Latin spoken by a mummified oracle. The most clear definitive answers I could find included the airport information that Howie plus crate and things inside crate must weigh less than 100 pounds. If he weighed more than that I would have to ship him as cargo, hire an import agent, pay an additional 200-500 dollars, and have him in quarantine for 48 hours when we arrived. I also found that it had to be under 85 degrees Fahrenheit or he couldn’t fly at all. Well…in Florida, there are about 6 days of the year that aren’t over 85 degrees so I had to do my best to time it and pray for some luck.  My best advice came from a few teachers who did this before us, and from some jumbled together grammar error ridden forum posts online. Even that stuff had conflicting information. Needless to say, I was a bit skeptical about my prospects of having this be an easy challenge to conquer.

Exactly 10 days before his trip, Howie had to be taken to another vet appointment to have them do some tests, blood work, give him a physical, an ultrasound, an MRI, an X Ray, and who knows what else. All we knew is that they couldn’t possibly make it convenient by allowing this all to happen at the previous appointment. Then the paperwork had to go on a journey longer than the one Frodo went on (AND longer than the movies) So yet again, Shannon’s mom took time off of work, threw the massive fluff beast into her car (where he undoubtedly left some of his fur for her to treasure on a work jacket on some future important day) and drove an hour to the vet. She then made a trip to FedEx, bought 3 pre-paid overnight envelopes, and sent the paperwork to the USDA in Gainesville, where someone very important must look at the paperwork to supervise the other very important certified vet. It would be ridiculous to assume that the very important certified vet who needed to do the paperwork was competent enough to do it properly. Once the USDA got it, and signed it, they had to send it (with our prepaid overnight envelopes) to another highly important professional whose job was ALSO to sign very important pet paperwork AND to supervise the other very important people’s work. Why did no one tell me that the government pet paperwork signing industry was so huge while I was in college? My life could have gone down a much more lucrative path?! Once all three parties signed the paperwork, they were sent back to Shannon’s mom’s house. I suppose I should have already given her proper credit by using her name by now. Her name is Candy.

Once all of the paperwork was taken care of by the vet, the USDA, and the Ecuadorian Consulate in Washington D.C. Howie’s paperwork was complete. Oh and don’t forget it had to be done in 10 days. The fact that Candy was able to make any of the three stops happen in 10 total days is amazing to me. I’ve been in government ran bureaucratic centers of despair and things don’t get done with urgency; definitely not clerical things. Don’t ever doubt Candy. Between taking MORE time off of work, making phone calls, emailing people, and the focus and fortitude of a master swordsman, (sorry I had nothing else) she was able to not only get it done, but she got it done and had it all in her hand within 5 days.

Meanwhile, back on the home front, Shannon made the discovery that Amazon.com does not ship to Ecuador and furthermore, most imported things are stupid expensive here. So while we are doing the aforementioned things from the checklist, Shannon is secretly on her phone or laptop while at dinner, late at night, while climbing volcanoes scouring the internet for things to purchase that I can smuggle bring back with me when I return with Howie. Like I said, she’s the practical one.

Candy Prepping Howie for his Trip

I was bombarded with requests before leaving. I had many teachers coming up to me after hearing I was going to the states and I received some strange requests. “Can you bring back my wedding ring? Can you bring me some of my favorite make-up? Can you bring me an umbrella? Can you bring me lottery tickets?” I felt like a prisoner dealing in stolen foreign merchandise. I ultimately granted very few of these requests due to Shannon’s extensive list. I only granted the moderately reasonable ones. I like to think of myself as performing the role of October Santa.

When the time finally came for my departure, Shannon enlisted the help of another family saint, sister Meagan of the globe-trotting mentioned earlier. Shannon recruited Meagan to be a sauce pirate. For clarification, when I say sauce pirate I mean she went to the grocery store to purchase many sauces we cannot get here such as Sriracha, Buffalo, and canned pumpkin. Meagan was also willing to be the one to pick me up from the airport.

Reunited...and it Feels So Goooooooood

When the day came for me to leave, I got a ride to the airport and found it unnervingly easy to get to, through, and past security and immigration in Ecuador. Nonetheless I sat myself down on the plane next to someone who sounded like (but hopefully didn’t) have Ebola and got myself to Miami.

Meagan picked me up and I saw Howie in the car. It was a moment of pure joy. It was like those commercials where the military family is reunited with their pet and everyone’s crying and the dog is going nuts. In this case however, it was me who was super excited and happy and Howie seemed indifferent. We played a big of car Tetris to make room for me and Howie was relegated to a 5 foot by 4 foot section in the back of Meagan’s SUV. As soon as we started driving, I think Howie realized who I was and army crawled over all of the boxes and things with 7 inches of space all the way up to the front of the car where there was much petting and ear scratching.

Being the gracious host that she is, Meagan whisked me up at the airport and took Howie and I straight to one of her and Shannon’s favorite laid back Miami nightlife spots which was an outdoor wine/craft beer bar. We had a few drinks and some Miami socialite types oh-ed and ah-ed at Howie and her boyfriend took off from work early to join us. It was nice. By the time we got back for the night, it was about 1:00am. Meagan had arranged for us all to stay at the apartment of their friends, so thank you to Sophie and Ricky for a place to crash and for your hospitality.

He Made Weight!!

When we got back to Sophie and Ricky’s place, I decided to take Howie for a loooooooong walk to shed some last minute pounds. It was pretty much the same thing as a boxer going for a long run in a trash bag to make weight before a fight. When we returned to the house, I had to take care of some paperwork and by the time I got to bed, it was 3:30am. I was told when confirming my flight and dog reservation that while I had to call to make a reservation, they didn’t necessarily count it as a reservation in the sense that I was reserving anything. Apparently there are only a limited number of slots that could be allocated for dogs on each flight, and a mere reservation couldn’t reserve one of those spots. It was a first come first served policy. When I asked the lady how many spots were available on that plane and that flight in general she said she couldn’t tell me and withheld the information like a Cold War spy. So the plan was to get up early, take a long walk to make last minute weight, and get there four hours early to be one of the first, if not the first person there, thus ensuring Howie’s spot. I knew it was going to be a rough morning because by my math, I wanted to get up at 4:30am to take care of all of that.

Meagan woke me up to get ready and I started my walk without thinking twice. It never occurred to me that she woke me up, not my alarm. Apparently my phone, being registered to Ecuador and without internet access in the States did not register the one hour daylight savings time difference and was operating one hour behind Miami time. After I got Howie in his crate, slapped his stickers on, and sat myself in the car, I realized that there were only three hours left until my flight.

Ready to Fly

Precious Cargo

I figured stressing wouldn’t do anything and Meagan drove us to the airport, with both of us getting about an hour and a half of sleep. Side Note: How great is Shannon’s family? They were so helpful, they didn’t complain once about all they had to do for us. I am ever grateful to the whole clan. When we got there, Meagan dropped me off at the curb and went to park the car. I got a nice rolling luggage rack and rolled up to the counter. Mind you, I still wasn’t entirely sure what they needed to see, whether he made weight, or whether the weather would cooperate. When I got to the counter, Meagan had caught up to me and we had a nice lovely chat with the slowest front desk woman in history. It was clear to me that I could see the American Airlines Pet Policy pulled up on her computer screen because I saw the reflection in her glasses. This woman was not only making me late by being slow, she didn’t even know the policy!? She ended up weighing Howie (94lbs! Thanks for keeping him on a diet Candy!) and I assumed that there was at

Loaded Up

least one of the coveted pet spots open for him. She leaved through the paperwork and paused for a moment. Apparently the Ecuadorian Consulate wrote a different date for his vaccinations than the USDA. They were all writing up their stuff from the SAME PAPERWORK?! How was this possible? “Discrepancy!” My heart dropped as I thought he wasn’t going to be able to go. I told the woman it must have been a mistake given the information provided to them was the same and I held my breath. After 4 seconds of thinking, which felt like 40 minutes to me, she sighed and said “Okay, but all you can do is that Customs in Ecuador accepts it.” She then asked me for his vaccination certificate and my heart dropped again because we didn’t have it. I told her the vet told me all I needed was the travel certificate because it had the same information (that is a lie) and she repeated coldly, “I need his vaccination certificate.” After some schmoozing and smooth talk (or so I think, it was probably just tired slurred speech) she proceeded to print out my boarding pass and directed me to the oversized luggage area where we took Howie. Side note: Picture a shopping cart with a width of about 2 and a half feet. Howie’s crate was across it and took about four and a half feet. Every time he moved, the whole crate would wobble and it almost fell a few times. It must have been pretty frightening for a dog in a crate, who is never in a crate to be wobbling like Keith Richards after every single Rolling Stones concert since 1969.

Welcome Home

We dropped Howie off and said our goodbyes. I got through security and immigration fairly quickly and in an effort to use the bathroom and get breakfast before the flight, I promptly lost about $100 worth of classroom stuff Shannon had purchased for me to bring back. I left it in a bathroom and when I realized what I had done, I spent the next half hour searching the Miami airport for the same bathroom I was in. When I finally found it, the stuff was gone. Sorry, Shannon.

The rest of the trip was fairly uneventful. We hit some turbulence and when we landed, I got my luggage and a few minutes later, Howie came out of the oversized luggage conveyer belt. We got through Customs without anyone sparing more than a passing glance at our paperwork, which Candy had so painstakingly fought for.

Home Cooked Meal

When we got to the house, there was a big reunion and Shannon made him some fresh chicken (for Howie) and we played ball for a little bit. He’s now settling in nicely and I have Candy, Meagan, Tom, Caitlin, Shannon, a few helpful teachers, a few less than helpful government workers, and patience to thank for it all. Thank you to everyone, for making our apartment in Quito a home again.