Here is an update on the construction in front of our apartment.
Cyclista
We live on a road that is one of the exits of a round-a-bout at a major intersection known as El Ciclista. It is called “The Cyclist” because of it being next to the side of Parque Metropolitano that features a BMX bike park, and because of the unique and unmistakable marionette-like unicyclist statue sitting in middle of the circle. About one month after moving into our apartment, crews began a major construction project that, sadly, saw the cyclist removed and the roads torn up into a tangle of chaos, blasting horns, and traffic cop whistles.
New University
Well, in the last 9 months there’s been quite a lot of progress. A university is being built across the street. It’s going to be a 7-story building that unfortunately, blocks almost our entire view of the Parque Metropolitano. And to ease the already stagnant clog of traffic that is constantly drudging through the Ciclista round-a-bout, a tunnel is being constructed. The tunnel should divert the Cumbaya traffic and take some of the volume away from the round-a-bout. The exit of the tunnel is directly under our bedroom window. And much of this construction has been occurring late and through the nighttime. Let’s just say we’ve had to break into our Nyquil reserves on a few occasions, just to manage a few hours sleep.
New Tunnel
And though I would have much preferred the view of giant eucalyptus trees of the park rather than a looming university building, I do give the planners credit for laying a beautiful brick sidewalk, grass! (quite a luxury in this city), and even a few sapling trees. And while we literally unable to use our car for a few days, due the garage being inaccessible as the road was torn up, we have been treated to a freshly paved, painted, and now clearly designated two-way street in front of our apartment. You can see a few pictures of the current state of construction as it is now. Our hopes are that the majority of the road construction will be completed by the time we return in late August. Who knows, maybe even our Ciclista statue will be back!
Certain foods will always remind us of home and give us that warm, contented feeling. I’ve come to grasp that this year when I realize there are foods that just aren’t available here, or if they are they’re imported and extremely expensive, or they’re a knockoff brand and just aren’t as good as the original. Take Oreos for example. I’ve never like Oreos. I’ve always shunned them as a cookie choice but Oreos are all over the place here. And I see them and go “Aww, Oreos! Just like at home!” And I have probably eaten about a dozen mini-packs of Oreos this year. I think it’s totally an emotional fix. Popular candy bars like Snickers, Twix, and Reese’s Cups are available here – in certain posh tiendas, for $2.50 each. So if you really want an American candy bar fix, it’s available to you, at a premium.
So Happy!!!
But one of my most treasured comfort foods of all time is Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. I know, it’s disgusting. But there is something about that little envelope of orange powdered cheese that just makes me feel happy and full and safe. It probably has something to do with the fact that this was pretty much a staple lunch during the summers of my childhood. Parents are at work for the day + kids left to make their own meals = mac & cheese. Were there other options in the pantry? Of course. But mac & cheese is easy, it’s ready in 10 minutes, and it’s always delicious. ALWAYS.
Sadly, Kraft Macaroni and Cheese is one of the American junk foods that didn’t make the import cut. It’s unavailable here. Sure, there are other brands of macaroni and cheese. Dubious imposters all of them! I have tried all three brands available here and none of them can hold a candle to my treasured Blue Box.
Flash forward a few months. Justin and I are with my family in New Jersey to mourn the passing of my beloved Aunt Bette. And it was during this time when I finally got to meet my second cousin, Ann. Conversation turns to our experiences in Ecuador and what we miss about home, etc. Naturally food comes up. So I mention how much I miss Kraft Mac & Cheese (or KMC as it will now be referred to). Well of course she is understandably horrified and teases me for liking such a processed, junky food. She jokes about shipping me a box of KMC down to Ecuador. I explained to her how unreliable the mail system is, and that it’s a long shot and I may never get the package.
Well Ann takes this a challenge and decides she’s going to mail me a box of KMC. And sure enough! I got it! The package was post-marked April 23rd. It arrived to my school on May 19th. The postage required to mail a single box of KMC was $14.30!!!!! But by golly, she did it! And I got the package! What a sweetheart! I was elated to shake the package and hear the dry little elbow noodles moving around. The box was a little smashed up and some of the noodles had escaped the box and were loose inside the envelope. But I didn’t care, I gleefully brought my package home from school that day.
I waited for the right moment to enjoy my treat. Unable to decide on a proper wine pairing, I treated myself to an imported Stella beer ($3 for the single bottle). The perfect Saturday afternoon arrived. I cooked up my KMC, cracked open my Stella, found some old reruns of CSI on the TV and sat down to a lovely, comforting meal. And for that afternoon, I felt like I was at home again. THANKS ANN!!
Earlier in the year I made a brief post talking about having a day off from school as a precautionary measure due to political protests. Well, they're back again. As someone who lives in this country but still considers himself a guest of the country, I will refrain from making or expressing my own political opinion on the issues taking place but you get the gist of what's happening here, here, or here.
One thing I do know is this, things got real last night. We were told by a few friends that the President would be returning from Europe last night and protests were planned at the airport to meet him, and all along the roads to his home. According to this person, the President was passing an unfair tax and while he was in Europe, he was purchasing a 3 million dollar home in Belgium with tax money. People were very upset. I don't know about the purchase of the house, but I do know he was there are an international meeting among leaders of various nations.
I've mentioned that we live close to the President, and we also live close to the highway that links the President's house to the airport. We took the extra precaution of walking the dog early so we were inside before anything went down...just in case. Well at around 7:30 we heard a lot of this:
The audio isn't great but you can tell that there were people in the street banging on pots and pans, whistling, chanting "Down with Correa", beeping horns, wearing black and other demonstrations of general unrest.
This went on for about a half hour and Shannon and I speculated that the President would be coming through shortly. So we did what anyone in our position would do, we pulled up some chairs to the window, got a drink, and sat own to see the show.
Riot Police Setting Up Shop
Next came the riot police. Yes, riot police. Outside of our apartment there were about 20-30 armed riot police complete with shields and what appeared to be guns, although it was hard to see since it was dark out. They stationed a handful of them down the street which was the entrance of the gated community the President lives in, another handful of them across the street from us, and the rest at the end of the street where the majority of the protest noise was coming from. The result of their presence was instant silence. People stopped banging on pots and went inside. It turned to a ghost town.
Army Truck Number 1
When the riot police set up in their formations, we started seeing two army trucks driving up and down our street with armed soldiers in the back of the truck. The soldiers never got out of the truck but the mere presence of an army regiment was enough to deter any violence.
After about 20 minutes we stopped watching due to the inactivity but for a while it felt like we were on the edge of some bad stuff going down.
Either way, we're safe and it luckily diffused before anything bad went down outside of our apartment.
Seat belts are made of tires. In order to be safe on a motorcycle, one simply loops a tire around the waist of the person in front of you and holds on tight. That way they get a seat belt and you get handlebars. (Don't worry, I took the photo at a red light) Only in Ecuador.
There are some things that happen here that require no additional words. They are things that only happen here in Ecuador. I'll post these from time to time with nothing more than a picture and an explanation of what's happening. The reasons, well I have no reasons.
Only in Ecuador will you walk the dog at 4:15am and see a flame thrower. When passing it I thought perhaps it was some sort of late night construction project that would be picked up in a few moments. Instead, when I came back down the road 40 minutes later I found the flame thrower still sitting there...facing the road and walkway. Still lit...Only in Ecuador.
I came down with a cold “el gripe” a couple of weeks ago that turned into a sinus infection. And while it was a miserable two and half weeks, I did get a funny story out of it. Our school provides us with a list of preferred doctors and medical professionals, but only very few of them speak English. So I went to the one guy on the list that I knew I would be able to communicate with fully.
This certain doctor, I’ve noticed, after several visits to his office that week has a little ritual before he begins his exam. He opens up the little cabinet door in the exam room, retrieves a large rectangular glass bottle of ginger-scented cologne and rubs it on his hands and neck. He then proceeds to check your eyes, ears, and mouth – all while you are enveloped in the aroma of warm, fresh, clean ginger. It’s nice.
He took one look at me and diagnosed me with acute sinusitis. No surprise there. But rather than prescribing me antibiotics and sending me on my way as most doctors would have done, he started my treatment right away. First he gave me a breathing treatment with a bronchodilator solution. After that was finished, he sent his nurse in with a sinus irrigation bottle. Now, I’ve used a Netipot for years to flush out my sinuses and I regret not bringing it down here with me. But I have never had someone else actually operating the pot (or in this case, bottle) for me. I won’t go into graphic detail, but let’s just say that having your sinuses irrigated by a stranger is a very intimate, and extremely messy process. Once I got past the initial embarrassment, I was able to appreciate the instant relief.
And just when I thought my treatment was over, Dr. Ginger Hands repositioned the exam table and instructed me to lay down flat, face-down. Okay…this is weird, I thought. Dr. Ginger Hands walks out and now I’m alone in the exam room. A few moments later, I hear the door open again and then, much to my surprise I am being karate-chopped and slapped all up and down my back by the tiny, vigorous hands of the office cleaning lady. I am not joking, this was the same woman who was sweeping the floors and cleaning the windows when I arrived. And now she is attacking my back with a gusto and strategy. With cupped hands, she proceeds to pound and smack my back up and down, side to side. And this goes on for quite a while. Finally, she finishes working on my back and I’m allowed to sit back up. She smiles at me and leaves.
When the doctor returns, I ask him what the back-slapping was all about. He chuckles and explains that that treatment is meant to loosen all the mucus from the esophagus so that it can be swallowed and doesn’t reaming hanging on in your respiratory system. Gross. But effective.
So after an hour of treatment, I’m able to leave to pick up my antibiotics and start recovering. I do appreciate the hands-on experience as I feel it did a great deal to boost my recovery. And while I appreciate the nurse’s efforts, I think I will be bringing my own NetiPot back with me from the United States this time.
One of
the things that makes our country and our city so unique is the beauty that
surrounds it. Quito lies nestled in the Andes Mountains and is surrounded by a
half dozen or so active volcanoes. Most of these active volcanoes are technically
active but not usually doing stuff. The geological makeup of the area means
that in any direction you look, you see cityscape. Everywhere you look the city
slopes either up or down towards the side of a mountain. In the distance in
every direction the horizon is broken by massive rock mountainsides or rolling steep
hills. It’s incredibly unique. However, the thing that makes living here so awe
inspiring is the same thing that makes this place a potentially dangerous place
to live.
Ring of Fire
Ecuador
lies on the eastern portion of the “Ring of Fire.” Surrounding the Pacific
Ocean, there are countless trenches and tectonic plates shifting and moving and
making the Pacific Rim a seismically charged region. Most of the world’s
tsunamis, earthquakes, and volcanoes lie on the edges of this ring. When one
thing happens, there usually tends to be a chain reaction. An earthquake leads
to tsunamis which lead to volcanic eruptions in some cases. Now as I say that, I
must also make the disclaimer that most of these seismic moments of activity
are relatively calm and benign. However, danger exists and caution should be
practiced.
One of
the largest active volcanoes in the world, Cotopaxi is relatively close to
Quito. You may recall when I posted earlier this year about camping at its feet
with 31 middle school kids. Well, the majestic beauty known as the neck of the
moon is getting restless.
This
week, we all received this email from the US Embassy:
U.S. Embassy Quito, Ecuador
Security Message for U.S. Citizens
Increased Activity on the Cotopaxi Volcano
The U.S. Mission in Ecuador advises U.S. citizens
living or traveling in Ecuador that the Cotopaxi volcano, an active volcano
near Quito, located within the Cotopaxi National Park in the Cotopaxi Province,
has recently experienced a rise unusual activity. According to the
Ecuadorian Geophysical Institute, since mid-April 2015, Cotopaxi has
experienced an unusually high level of seismic activity, more frequent movement
of magma inside the volcano, and an increase in sulfur dioxide emissions,
resulting in periodic sulfur smells and visible vapor emissions (fumarole
activity). While the Ecuadorian government has not announced any alerts
for the Cotopaxi volcano at this time, U.S. citizens are advised to take
precautions and monitor the news for updates.
U.S. citizens are also reminded that the Tungurahua
volcano, near the tourist community of Baños in Tungurahua Province, and the
Wolf volcano, located on an uninhabited area of Isabela Island in the Galapagos
Islands chain, are currently undergoing eruption cycles, along with other
volcanoes in Ecuador. For more information on current activity, visit the
Spanish-language website of the Ecuadorian Geophysical Institute, which
monitors volcanoes and earthquakes.
My Old Friend
So…there’s
that. After talking to a few locals and science people I was assured of a few
things.
First, I
heard if Cotopaxi blew, it would be so large that even though it is very far
away, we’d be relatively guaranteed of imminent death due to the amount of ash.
A much smaller volcano erupted nearly in 2000 and the city was coated with 2-3
inches of ash for weeks. If the mammoth Cotopaxi blew it would be catastrophic
to the people living nearby due to lava flow and environmentally catastrophic
to anyone who likes the sun, plants, or breathing.
Second, I
heard it was nothing to worry about. If Cotopaxi blew it would likely be a
small eruption that would spew some sulfur and a little bit of ash and likely
be it.
Third I heard
that even though seismic activity has been increasing, the chances of living
near a volcano that produces life-ending results is about 1/3,000,000,000.
Hold tight big girl, don't lose your cool
Who
knows what to believe? We leave to go back to the states in a few weeks so I can
only hope if something happens here it is mild enough not to destroy the city
that I call my home or the residents who I call my neighbors. We were told that if it happens and it's bad that it would be best to drive north to Colombia. The roads in and out of Quito are pretty small and there aren't many ways in and out so if anything happened we'd need to be ready. We're hoping all is good, and in all likelihood it will be, but in true Boy Scout fashion we are prepared anyway. We have a backpack with blankets, batteries, flash lights, water, canned food, cash, matches, dog food, an extra leash, and some medicine waiting in our apartment just in case something happens. Not likely that we'll need it but I'd rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it. Cotopaxi is
nothing to be trifled with and while I will be monitoring the progress of the
upset belly of this beast I will be hoping and praying that it is closer to
indigestion than an overdue explosion.
Earlier in the year I detailed how I was part of a weekly Thursday night pickup basketball thing. It is still going on and has been a fantastic way to me to get in better shape, network with people from around Quito, and have a good time.
Since then, we have also started an adult league that has been a blast. Playing basketball is one of my favorite things to do but I haven't been in an organized league since I played for my high school team. In this league, there are 6 teams. There are teams from other international schools, a team from the embassy, a team of guys who work at the airport, and the team from a local university.
It's a ton of fun and pretty official. There are refs and scorekeepers.Some teams hire coaches. Most teams get uniforms professionally made (but we don't). Many of the guys who play in our league (I believe 5-6) play on the Ecuadorian National Team and regularly compete in qualifiers for the Olympics so you could certainly say that while basketball isn't as big as soccer, we are playing against the best people in the entire country.
We play two games per week and the games last about an hour and a half or so.
It was told to me before but has become apparent since that the Ecuadorian referees love to express some of their personal preferences in games. Gringos get fouled a lot with no calls and if a gringo is near an opposing teammate they somehow foul them every time without touching them. I'm not one to complain about things that aren't under one's control in a game of basketball but it gets dangerous. The guy who organizes the league (a gringo from Kansas) had his shoulder separated last year and required surgery. Another teacher, has to get 15 stitches in his face last year. Both plays, no foul. I don't bring it up to complain, but rather to paint an accurate picture of the experience I'm having.
Terrible refs aside, it's been an amazing experience. I've met a lot of local guys, made some friends, and really enjoyed myself. So far we are 1-2. We got smoked by the airport guys. We lost in a close overtime game to the teachers from the local French school (defending champions) and beat another local American International school pretty badly. We're gearing up for another game tomorrow against the local university team.
HA! On January 8, I posted a story about how it had taken 17
days to get our car after we purchased it. “Oh, also
we still don’t have the car. It was paid for and the contract was signed 17
days ago. I now have my license. The transfer is officially accounted for and
processed and we don’t have our car. We hope that will be resolved today or
tomorrow; but while the hopes are high the expectations are not.” What a
fool I was. If you are ever in a situation where your patience is tried as we
were when we purchased the car, I want you to always keep in mind that it can,
and probably will get worse.
In Ecuador, when you purchase a
car, you get something called a matricula. Essentially a matricula amounts to a
car’s title, registration, and emissions inspection all in one. It is
reasonable to expect the transaction of a matricula to take as long as getting
a car’s registration in your name when you make a purchase. It’s essentially
the same step. But not here!
I have not posted anything about
this process since we purchased the car for fear of jinxing us. This week, we
finally got our matricula. It took 153 days. Now, for context here are some things
that one can do in 153 days: 2 trimesters of child incubating, biking across
the United States, and about 1/8 of a Presidential term.
Over the 153 days, we visited the
dealership between 9-19 times to harass the dealership manager and the salesman
who sold it to us. I heard the phrase “We’re so sorry, we’ll have it done by MondayWednesdayFriday” at the very latest about 60 times. Our friend
who helped us through this process, and I made about 90 phone calls to the Jefe
(boss), his cell phone, the dealership in general, and the car salesman. Every time
we heard the famous Ecuadorian phrase “manana manana”
Apparently, the dealership received
the car because the previous owner had passed away. She did not have a proper
will and therefore her valuables were split between her 5 children. The executor
of the will sold the car and split the money but without securing the legally necessary
contractual agreements of all 5 children to sell their share. As a result,
while the dealership had possession of the car, they did not legally own it.
Therefore it was illegal to sell it to us. But..they did and pandemonium ensued.
Either way, 153 days older and
wiser we have our matricula and we officially own our car. That’s all that
matters now.
All around the world, there are cities and countries that
are known for “tagging” or graffiti artwork. I have limited knowledge on it but
my understanding of graffiti is that it started as an impromptu form of
protest-like expression. Graffiti, when done well and done right is not merely
a spray paint fueled defacing of property.
It's all around the city
Something I did not know until very recently is that Ecuador
has a rich graffiti culture. There are artists who are considered famous in
Quito who go under the cover of night to transform clay walls, barriers, and
buildings into works of public art. All around the city, wherever you look you
see incredibly intricate designs and paintings. I’ve seen 80 foot long dragons,
oppressed farmers yelling in rage, and bunny rabbits doing vulgar things. It’s
really quite interesting.
Along with the beautiful artwork that you see around, there
is also a lot of protest-centered text spray painted around. My understanding
is that at the moment, there are many people who are upset with the current
President and his Socialist leanings and I’ve read sentences scrawled across
signs and storefronts that can attest to that. I feel like that’s a site to be
expected in a city with such a rich street art culture.
Don't you dare forget to capitalize.
But one thing I never expected is to see the work of a
vigilante grammar avenger. While walking to school recently, Shannon and I noticed
that a politically critical sentence that had been written on the side of a
building had been corrected for grammar errors, using red spray paint. It was
an image that got my mind rolling to the possibilities of pocket protector and
cape wielding grammar enthusiasts hiding beneath the cover of the shadows to
correct a misplaced accent or poor punctuation. I’m not sure if it was a
student due to the close proximity of the school (highly doubtful) or just a
well-meaning tagger on his or her way to paint a condor shrieking in the night
but either way I surely appreciated it.
On Friday of this week a few of the guys decided that we
should take advantage of Happy Hour at a local restaurant. It was downtown
which would have been a 35 minute drive on a normal day but on a Friday, it
would have been at least an hour and a half. Traffic gets bad in Quito. It gets
especially nasty on Fridays from 2:00-9:00 so we all decided to take the EcoVia
instead.
The EcoVia is the bus system. It runs North through South through
all of Quito and in most parts of the city there are separate bus lanes that
allow the busses to pass through traffic. A ride on the EcoVia is a quarter. It is a nice alternative to driving and cabs
except for one thing, everyone knows it. The EcoVia is always stupidly full. There
are no regulations as to a “maximum” amount of people on it. I have frequently
seen it driving past me on the road with well over 200 people in it. Mind you,
it is the size of a normal bus that is meant to seat about 50 or so. On the
EcoVia, it gets so cramped that any semblance of the idea of personal space
disappears. On the EcoVia you are frequently close enough to count the ingrown
hairs on the neck of the person in front of you.
Imagine this plus fitting a dozen or so more people
While that is to be expected, what is not expected is the
amount of crime on the EcoVia. People will frequently ride the bus with the
sole intent of pick pocketing you. It gets so crowded that your limbs are
limited in their movement. If one hand is on the handle or bar above your head
while standing, you have at least three pockets unprotected. We have heard
stories of people being pickpocketed, having things taken out of the bottom of
their backpack, and a variety of other creative theft strategies. It’s pretty
disappointing.
On Friday, a group of 10 or so gringos (already standing
out) dressed in shirts and ties (aka neck targets) got on the EcoVia and
through some clever interior jacket pockets/strategic placement of wallets and
cell phones, and general vigilance none of us were robbed. After the happy hour
however one of our friends had his wallet and cell phone taken. Just another
reminder of the dichotomy of benefit (convenient and quick $.25 bus ride) and
dangerous circumstances (crazy high likelihood of petty theft)that are ever
present when you live in a South American country.
The Napo River is one of the major tributaries
flowing into the Amazon River. And Justin and I had a chance to visit on our
last 3-day weekend. Our destination was a riverside lodge, reached only by a
20-minute canoe ride. We first drove to Tena (about 4 hours out of Quito). Once
there, we drove another 30 minutes to Punto Ahuano, the marina where we parked
our car. The next step was to hire a motorized canoe for $10 which then
transported us 30 minutes down the Napo River and right up to our destination,
The Anaconda Lodge.
The Napo River
We opted for the all-inclusive “jungle novice”
package which included lodging, 3 meals per day, and guided tours through the
rainforest and up and down the river. I must say that I was pleasantly
surprised by the amount of flora and fauna we got to see without even having to
go too deep into the jungle!
On our first hike we got to see a canela (cinnamon)
tree, a palm tree that has a trunk as strong as steel and is used to make blow
gun darts, a garlic plant, some interesting water birds, leaf cutter ants, and
a caiman! (Though if I’m being honest, I wasn’t impressed by that skinny little
3 foot caiman. Come to Florida, we grow gators 14 feet long that swallow boy
scouts whole).
The next day we went even deeper into the rainforest.
We got back in the canoe and this time motored 30 minutes in the other
direction to land on a short sandy beach where we immediately sank in
quicksand! It does exist! Before we could enter the selva, our guide Cesar
painted our faces using the smashed seeds of an achiote pod. We then slogged
through shin-deep mud, around enormous spider webs and menacing conga ants. We
saw more medicinal plants including one used as an antibiotic and antivenin
treatment, and another plant called hoja de sangre hat is actually used as an antihemorrhagic
for men who have sustained injuries hunting or women suffering from heavy
menstruation.
The Lodge
But perhaps my favorite part was Saturday night when
our lodge had a special visit from a much honored Quechua shaman. At the time
there were only about 15 people staying at the lodge and after dinner we all
gathered around in a circle in the open air common area. One of the guests
volunteered to participate in what was to be a traditional cleansing ritual.
Our host explained how the shaman is the most honored person in the community
and is treasured for his power to use the old spirits and the plants of the
forest to heal. This local shaman, given name Salvador, and age unknown though
estimated to be around 85 years old, was small in stature with warm, bronzy
skin that seemed to glow from within. He was shirtless, save for strings of
beads and his arms were strong and sinewy. He then proceeded to conduct a
cleansing ritual that lasted about 20 minutes long and a calm fell over the entire
lodge as we sat listening to his chanting and singing in old Kichwa,
accompanied by the steady, gentle rustle of his dried leaf wand (for lack of
better word).
It’s probably Hollywood’s fault, but I’ve always
sort of thought of shamans and medicine men to be kind of dark, mysterious,
almost a little frightening. But this was one of the most peaceful, natural,
and beautiful spiritual ceremonies that I have ever witnessed. Calling on the
spirits of those passed and the powers of nature for cleansing and healing –
what could be more right and natural then that. It was simple and benign yet
incredibly moving and comforting in a strange sense. When the ritual was
concluded I realized I had tears in my eyes. And the woman being cleansed had
relaxed into a half sitting-half lounging pose, resting on the strong, small
legs of the shaman, a look of utter peace and contentment on her face.
And I think this is the memory I will carry of my
first visit to the Amazon. When I first envisioned the Amazon rainforest, I
thought of the towering trees I would see, the snakes, the monkeys, the insects
and crocodiles and the huge snaking river that connects them all. But my
special association now is of the indigenous people living harmoniously there
that embody the spiritual union and interconnectedness of them all and who
remind us that we are of nature and the power of nature is within us.
Shannon and I are truly fortunate and very lucky. We tell
each other this every week. When we first decided to go to an international
school we were prepared to go without truly knowing where we would end up. We
were fortunate enough to end up in a place that has some of the most unique
locations on the planet to visit.
In the past 9 months we have hiked through cloud forests. We
have swam with sea lions in the Galapagos Islands. We have hiked up volcanoes
and slept at the foot of giant snow-capped
mountains. And now we can add another
truly remarkable trip to that list.
Chocolate Leaves
Last weekend, Shannon and I spent out three day weekend in
the Amazon Rainforest. THE AMAZON RAINFOREST. As in, the very same one that
centered your elementary school science units. The most famous collection of
wilderness and animals and plants the world has to offer. I still can’t believe
we are afforded that opportunity whenever we want. Anyway, here is a brief
account of our experiences.
We woke up early on Friday, intent on getting to the lodge
as early as possible. The drive was projected to be about four hours. I have
detailed before that while the country is small, our location in the middle of
the mountains and the necessity to drive winding mountain roads leads to long
drives. In an effort to keep this post interesting but still accurate I’m going
to zoom through the next bit. We got turned around on the road and added two
hours to our journey there. There may have been a frustrated meltdown or two
but the point is we got there.
Quechua Yucca Potions
When we arrived to our destination, we still had a way to
go. That sounds weird but let me clarify. When you are going on a trip to most
lodges in the Amazon you have to get there by motorized canoe. There are no
roads that lead into the jungle or parking spaces. So we parked our car at a
public lot and paid a canoe driver ten dollars to take us a half hour up the
river to our lodge. Unfortunately the actual Amazon River does not go through
Ecuador so while we were in the Amazon Rainforest, we were on the Napo River.
The Napo River is either the largest or the second largest tributary river to
the Amazon but I digress.
The river looked exactly as all rivers in the Amazon look on
tv. It is dirty, murky, and dark but in a very natural way. As we took our
private 30 foot long canoe to our lodge, Shannon and I discussed the creatures
that potentially lurked just below us and strategies for escape if the boat
capsized. The gist of that conversation is that I would have saved her but she
would have used her swimming coach techniques to leave me in the vicious jaws
of the first critter to approach. I understood…it was a tough drive.
Caiman Snack Time
When we got to the lodge, we were greeted with an incredible
lunch and cold beer. We had heard about the lodge through some friends and it
was all inclusive in terms of our excursions, meals, and lodging. After finishing
our lunch we were taken by our guide Cesar on a short hike through the jungle. Cesar
spoke only Spanish so we were able to practice our Spanish while taking the
tour which was nice.
Along our trail, we came across a cinnamon tree and ate the
leaves. We came across a giant garlic tree and ate the leaves. We came across a
variety of flowers and antibiotic trees that were used for pharmacy pills…and
we ate the leaves. Had we not been served lunch I might have been getting
skeptical of this whole “all meals included” thing.
Leaf Cutter Ants
The hike was a pretty genuine Amazon experience. Cesar had a
machete that he used to cut a path through the thick foliage in some spots. At
one point he surprised us all by smacking the back of his machete against a
tree. The tree made a loud bang like it was made of steel. “Super Duro!” he laughed at us meaning super strong. He
seemed to have just as much fun as we did.
While we were walking Shannon pointed out that a whole
colony of leaf cutter ants were forming a convoy across our path and sure
enough, thousands of the little red dudes were going from the river across the
path and up a tree. It was almost as if we were in a movie seeing all of the “Amazon
scenes.”
Almost Ready!
Towards the end of our walk we found a small caiman, which
is like a fresh water jungle crocodile. Cesar threw him a bit of meat and he lackadaisically
chomped on it while giving us some serious side eye.
Ready for the Hike
After we saw the animals, we went to the home of a local
Quechua family chatted with a woman who lived there. She made us a local drink
made of ground up yucca and hot water. She made us some natural chocolate and
fed it to us on a leaf. Her hospitality was incredible and her kindness was
truly moving.
Then we went outside to do what all Quechua people must
learn to do, we fired blow guns! Cesar set up a target for us and we took turns
firing wooden darts down an eight foot barrel at a piece of wood. When I shot
mine it came out of the blow gun with the velocity and ferocity of a jungle
warrior…then took a left turn, missed the target, and nearly killed one of the
woman’s pet chickens. My second attempt was no better. Shannon however, fired a
strike straight into the center of the target. I suppose I should keep her on
my side when we go for hikes.
Conga Ant aka Bullet Ant
When we returned to the lodge that night we were met by more
delicious non leaf foods and shared dinner with some of the other travelers who
happened to be staying there as well.
The next morning we woke up early for a canoe ride deeper
into the Amazon and took another canoe ride to a remote island area. As we got
off of our canoe, Cesar decided that he wanted to take a local fruit and paint
our faces like local tribes people. It was a little touristy but hey…that’s what
we were.
Cesar and Us in the Jungle
We went on a hike and saw a dangerous Conga Ant crawling
near Cesar’s hand. According to the internet, which is never wrong, the Conga
Ant has dangerous neurotoxin venom in its stinger that causes the most painful
sting of any animal in the world. It is supposedly more painful than any
scorpion, wasp, hornet, or any other stinging animal.
After avoiding that we found ourselves in some quicksand. We
actually got caught in quicksand. Granted, we only sank up to our shins and
were never in any real danger but WE SANK IN QUICKSAND!!!
Quicksand!!
After ducking through a few spider webs and seeing some cool
birds and insects, we made it up to the top of a hill where Cesar made Shannon
a fern crown and declared her the Queen of the Amazon. We took a few nice
pictures overlooking a nice part of the jungle and hiked our way back to the
canoe.
On our way, Cesar spotted a somewhat swollen branch and
climbed up the tree, cut the branch, sliced it open and out came a colony of
ants. He suggested we eat them and when we did, they tasted like lemon! Lemon
flavored bugs! I could get used to this.
When we got back to the canoe, we got changed and hopped
into some tubes to go tubing down the Napo River. We all exchanged some side
glances since Cesar himself told us that the river had Caimans and Anacondas
but that they probably wouldn’t bother us. The owner of the lodge also assured
me that the dreaded Candiru fish USUALLY didn't come that far up the river to
where we were going. Some endorsement… That’s the one that…well, click here
if you want to be completely horrified.
Howler Monkeys
While we were a tiny bit freaked out, we floated along the
Napo for about twenty minutes, through some fast moving water and slower lazy
river type stuff. We relaxed while staring above us into the tops of the
massive trees wondering what other jungle secrets lied in obscurity.
The Queen and I
After the lazy river float, we climbed back into the canoe
and went a little bit further into the jungle. All of the sudden our guide cut
the engine and Cesar started making a whooping sound. None of us knew what he
was doing or what was going on until we spotted them. A family of howler
monkeys inched towards us on the branches and ended up about 20 feet from our
boat looking at us with confused expressions. I guess they weren't very used to
humans. One of them stared at us with a seriously grumpy face and without
moving another muscle, started flexing his brow. It was the strangest thing. I
don’t know if it was a friendly gesture or an aggressive one but after a few
pictures and looking at them for a while we left.
The Good Life
When we got back to the lodge we spent a nice late afternoon
napping and reading on the hammock before dinner, which again was incredible. We ended up packing up early on Sunday and enjoying the lazy but beautiful ride
back, which we made in less than four hours. We hiked through the jungle, saw some dangerous insects, fed a caiman, got mean mugged by some howler monkeys, ate jungle food, shot blow guns, got our faces painted with natural fruit dye, and one of us was crowned royalty. It was a “Super Duro” way to spend
our three day weekend.
I don’t remember if I’ve addressed this in a previous post
or not, but either way here goes.
If you want an imported good such as a box of Frosted Flakes
or some other US good, it is extraordinarily expensive. That’s just part of the
price of living in a country that has somewhat limited trade flexibility with
the United States. However, if you want produce it is cheap. Like super crazy
cheap. Like stupid cheap.
Every Saturday, Shannon and I take a short trip to the
Inaquito Market. Surrounding the market is a series of little tiendas that vary
in their specialty. I would say that about a third of them are florists where
you can buy two dozen gorgeous roses for $4 or so. Another third of them is
assorted plastic goods such as Tupperware and pitchers and the like. The last
third is liquor stores.
I won't show you what it looks like
before it gets to the plate.
When you walk into the market which is essentially a large
warehouse, you see a food court to the side where you can buy hornado. Hornado
is pretty much the only thing you can buy. Hornado is an typical Ecuadorian
plate that consists of fried bite sized pieces of pork. You also get a sliced
avocado and choclos large kernel corn, all for about $3. The whole raw dead pig
is usually hanging on a hook or on the counter. They will carve it for you
depending on what you want and then fry it up. It sounds gross. It looks gross.
It kind of is gross. But, the food is delicious.
When you walk past the cafeteria area, you find a variety of
stands that serve as makeshift butchers. None of the meat is wrapped or
refrigerated so we haven’t really taken them up on their fantastic prices but
we hear the quality is good.
Then, past all of that is the goldmine. You arrive at a flea
market style setup with rows and rows of fresh fruit, vegetable, and spice
stands. In the spice stands you can buy all of the spices you need from curry
to chili pepper, to cayenne pepper, to ginger, to well..you get the idea. They
usually sell a bag that is a quarter of a pound for a dollar or so.
Rows and rows and rows of delicious options
The fruit and vegetable stands are equally as appealing. The
owners try to give you a gringo price and expect you to haggle but sometimes we
find that it’s hard to argue over .10 worth of a price when you are getting such
a great deal. For example, we usually get 6 or 8 oranges for a dollar. We buy a
pound of strawberries for a dollar or less. We get 6 apples for a dollar. We
buy a bushel of peppers for a dollar. Fresh heads of lettuce, cabbage, parsley,
celery all cost about .40 apiece.
All in all we bring a backpack and two reusable grocery bags
and buy about 15 pounds of produce to use for the week for cooking and snacks
and we spend less than $20. It’s another unexpected advantage of living here. I’ll
take the $7 Frosted Flakes for this deal any day.
One of the cool things about working in our school
is how different all of the students are. To clarify, in our last school we had
a very multicultural student body. We had quite a few Haitians, Dominicans,
Puerto Ricans, and people from a dozen other places. However, the mere nature
of this school and the classification of “International” really brings the
multicultural aspect to another level.
The biggest difference among our student body here
vs what we experienced in the states is that in the US, everyone from another
background was trying to fit in. There was a mainstream culture and expectation
and here it seems that everyone has a huge sense of nationalism and pride in
their differences. It’s pretty refreshing.
The embodiment of thi
s sentiment took place about
two weeks ago when the school held its 48th (or something) annual
international festival. The festival was a series of carnival games ran by
students, cultural dances, and of course food tents.
I was elected among the high school students to a
position manning the dunk tank. Having previously been the object of scorn and
tongue biting focus while sitting on a dunk tank platform before, I knew the
one key to being the bag of tea to a dunk tank is to go early. There is a trade-off of course. If you go in too early, you get a bit of biting cold hose water to
cushion your fall. If you go later, the water is warmer (who knows why…) and
there is often hair and other undesirable stuff floating next to you.
Some friends of ours taking aim after I was off of the tank
Armed with this wisdom I chose the early time slot
and seemingly forgot to account for altitude and cold frigid mountain weather.
After a line of kids dunked me in the frigid water for about 40 minutes, I retreated
to my classroom to put on dry clothes before the wet ones turned into a frozen
sheet. Also yes, Shannon dunked me.
Food, glorious food!
After putting on the dry clothes I went up to the
main stage area. Allow me for a moment to paint you a word picture. The whole
setup is outside in a large flat tennis court style area. There is a stage up
front where students are performing a variety of cultural dances, songs, and rhythmic
interpretative shadow boxing. First, the 6 year olds perform an adorable
rendition of a flamenco dance. Then the 16 year old boys play some fancy song
on their guitar. Most of what is happening is in a variety of languages that I didn't speak but the feeling of pride and communal bonding and respect was
omnipresent.
So many options!
Surrounding all of this extravagant celebration are
tents. Many many tents. Each tent is selling food or goods from their local
area. The Ecuador tent is selling llapingachos and hornado along with
Ecuadorian chocolate. Canada was selling Maple Bars. Mexico had tostadas and
burritos. China had pork and egg rolls. Indonesia had some sort of heavenly
curry/soup/mush of delight. My absolute favorite however was Argentina.
Argentina was selling sandwiches of thick cut Argentinian beef. Simple yet
divine.
Young flamenco dancers
All in all, I caught a cold, Shannon dunked me, kids
played games, and we stuffed ourselves with food from all around the globe. It
was truly a unique and great experience. I eagerly await next year’s 49th
(or whatever) edition.
When Shannon and I found out we were moving to South America, one of our first thoughts was how we were going to get our Spanish speaking to a proficient level. I had taken a few years throughout my own schooling as did Shannon but we both realized it wasn't quite enough. We also had a little bit of an opportunity to practice our limited skills due to the fact that we both lived and worked in Florida. But again, our Spanish was nowhere near the level it needed to be if we were going to be living in a Spanish-speaking country.
When we first got to Ecuador, we were quickly thrown into the fire and learned quite a bit through necessity. We developed a very rudimentary vocabulary based on our conversations with taxi drivers, grocery store clerks, restaurant waiters, and at the market while haggling for better prices. The school offered a one day per week, two hour class on Mondays but with the large class sizes and the clear annoyance of the teacher being tasked with teaching us, we decided that the class was not for us.
That was about all we could afford to spare with regards to time. We were so overwhelmed by the cultural differences, adjusting to new jobs, furnishing our home, finding our home, getting Howie here, and eventually coaching sports. Free time is not something one should expect when they first move to a new country.
About three weeks ago however, we realized that we were settling in to a somewhat normal routine and actually found ourselves with a tiny bit of time. We decided to take that time and devote it towards learning the language of our neighbors. We both discussed how not only would it be rude to refuse to assimilate in some what to the country which we resided, but it would also make our lives easier if we learned Spanish. Another consideration is that we both felt we would be highly disappointed in ourselves if we lived in another country and never mastered (to some level) Spanish. Language and culture acquisition were two of the biggest reasons we decided to go overseas and we were set to make some progress.
After talking to a few teachers who had similar feelings about learning Spanish, we found out that the language schools here are a booming business and relatively reasonable. People looking to learn Spanish in Quito have a myriad of options. You could go to a language school once or twice per week for $7 per hour per person. This seemed absolutely reasonable to us but the drawbacks were that you would be in a larger class instead of in a more intimate one on one situation, and we live about a half hour to forty minutes away from the school. I could certainly see myself coming home after a long day and deciding to forego the $7 and stay home. The other option, the one we chose, was that you could have a Spanish teacher come to your home and give you a private lesson for one hour per session for $10 per person. We obviously decided to choose that option.
In the few weeks that we've been working with Susana, our private tutor, our Spanish has progressed quite a bit. She assesses us on the fly for what we know and adjusts the lessons accordingly instead of fitting us into a neat little box of beginner, intermediate, expert. She prepares homework assignments, and instead of simply lecturing us, she converses with us. We have conversations at the dining room table about a variety of topics at our level.
It has been a wonderful experience so far and I look forward to continuing to progress.
Today during lunch, our Middle School Principal walked up to a group (myself included) of teachers eating lunch. He had his hand over a cup much like a person would if they were walking with a cup of hot soup to make sure it didn't spill.
When he got to the table we asked what was in the cup and he removed his hand to show a nice little black scorpion in the bottom of the cup. Apparently a teacher found it in one of their classroom during a class.
There is no long winded allegory involved in this story, I just found it interesting that even up in the mountains of Ecuador we find stuff like this roaming our halls and classes.
Every day between 6:45-7:15am, the President drives by. I
have heard that he is taking his child to school. I have heard he’s on his way
to work. Who knows. All I do know is that when he drives by, it is with a full
motorcade of about 4-6 motorcycles and 3-5 tinted out black SUVs. I also know
that a week and a half ago, I became part of that motorcade.
If you've ever seen a motorcade or even any TV show or movie
set in Washington D.C, you know the drill. A scout vehicle rides up ahead and
stops traffic so the rest of the convoy can go forward. The President naturally
gets precedent. This is no different in Ecuador. Also, the implication is that
if you mess with the motorcade, you will be shot or thrown in jail with quickness.
This is also no different in Ecuador.
So to set the scene, we live about 10 minutes away from
school by foot. It’s a smoggy uphill walk but a nice one most days. On this particular
day, I was running late and also planned on going to the grocery store after
school. Shannon was sick and I was planning on picking up some stuff for her to
make soup. As a result, I took the car to work.
At the top of the hill, where we normally turn right, I was yielding
like a good citizen when traffic stopped coming. I figured it was a day like
any other and it would be my time to dart into the road and merge while there
was a momentary lapse in traffic. Traffic is terrible in Quito and you have to take every opportunity you can to get on to the road you desire. I did not see that the reason for the break
in traffic was the Presidential motorcade scout motorcycle. As I made my turn I
quickly realized that I had merged directly into the motorcade. There were
scout motorcycles in front of me and black SUVs behind me. I was terrified for
my life and for my prospects as a new character in the Ecuadorian vision of
Shawshank Redemption. Luckily for me, we cruised along for about five minutes
without anyone stopping me. I made my right hand turn into the school parking
lot and no one bothered me once. I effectively had the President escort me
through traffic to get to school quicker with no consequences.
Just another day in the life of an ignorant American abroad.
