My trip to Mindo.

I haven't finished this Blog post (or hardly started) but here is a video of where I went yesterday. Today is my last day with internet for about 6 weeks so if this is still here tomorrow, than this Blog has been fun and see you on the other side!

Interesting things about Ecuador

This place is chalk full of taxis. It's like New York, honestly. Look at this random picture I took of a random street. It has about 7-10 taxis on it and that's really normal to find, even on less popular streets. They are also dirt cheap and usually a taxi ride is about $1.50. Speaking of...



Dirt Cheap: I've talked a lot here and there about how cheap things are, but I love it and will continue to love it. Today I went to the movies to see The Dark Knight. Cab ride: $1.50 (would have been a 25 cent bus ride if I had taken the time to see which to take), movie ticket: $4.25 (only 3 if you buy it online), 1 frappacino: $1.60. Everyday for lunch I go right up the street and pay two dollars total for: soup (a big bowl, too), the main dish (usually rice, small salad, and meat), juice (one time he brought out beer), and fruit for desert. Today there was a side of popcorn thrown in. Like a lot of restaurants, the lunch menu is set (something different everyday, but the same for everyone on that day, I think), but its really good. ESPECIALLY for only 2 bucks.


People sell things on the street everywhere. It's normal to have someone at your window at just about every street light. What's more interesting is a lot of times it is children. Like, really really young children, around five years old at times. These young children will be waiting on the curb of a busy street at the light and then venture out. Someone here told me that that I should never really buy from them because a lot of times they just give the money to their fathers who use it for drugs/alcohol. I think my Spanish teacher told me that. Also, things will often be sold on the bus as well. The person will just hop on, go up and down the aisles, and then hop off. It actually happened on the return trip from the beach. We passed with one very small town/community and a kid got on to sell bread and was dropped off 10 minutes later at another small town. And, this isn't exactly selling but its close enough to the same category: during stoplights its normal to see a group of kids run out into the streets and do cartwheels and hand stands for money. The first night I got here we were driving from the airport and a kid came up to the car and started juggling. It was like 11 at night.

Stray Dogs: They're everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE. Not just Quito but it seems Ecuador in general. I told you that one just waltzed in to the wedding I attended! But anyway, they are everywhere and in great abundance. All of them seem friendly and just looking for something to eat. This past weekend, though, when riding in a taxi a group of dogs ran out into the street barking and snarling at the car. It was bizarre, especially since they almost got hit. Also, if you feed one be prepared to gain a new best friend that will not leave you alone!

Bootleg Movies! I've mentioned them before and I will mention them again. The only one that has led me astray was The Dark Knight and that was because it had no English option (just Spanish voiceover) when I was told otherwise. Other than that, I now have 10,000 B.C., Indiana Jones, Narnia 2, Hulk 2, IronMan, and Hancock in my collection. I've seen about 10 different bootleg DVD stores since I've been here. Apparently they tried to shut them down a while ago but so many people depend on them for work that they are OK to do now.

The buses - I already ranted about the terrible bus ride experience to the coast, but this is more about the everyday buses that one would take around Quito. First of all, they are dirt cheap. I can ride one around the city for as long as I want for 25 cents. Trips outside the city might be 40 cents or, at most (the 3 hour bus ride we took to Otavalo), it's 2 bucks. Another thing is the nature of getting on and off a bus. There aren't designated bus stops. You wave one down like you would a cab and then jump on. And a lot of times if it is just one person getting on or off the bus the driver won't really stop. One time I saw this guy get on the bus when it was going at almost normal speed. He just ran with the bus, grabbed the poles, and swung on. I thought about doing that once but then thought better of it.

Pollution: I took this video of a bus starting up but it's really not a good representation. I just didn't want to be walking around Quito filming buses for an hour. I heard that the gas they use is actually outlawed in the United States. But it is not uncommon to find yourself smothered with exhaust 2-3 times from just walking down the block.

My friend Jim, who has recently moved on to more travels, first brought my attention to this. Outside of just about every restaurant (some other stores, too, but mostly restaurants) are armed guards! Really, I know there must be a reason for it, like problems in the past that have provoked such measures, but armed gunmen outside sit-down restaurants? Seems a little extreme. I thought it might not be wise to lift my camera and take the time to capture a photo of one of these guards so I used the video feature to be more casual about it.

The Beach

This past weekend I went to the beach with Gabriel (the dude who hooked me up with the stay in Quito) and a few of his friends. All in all, I'd have to say that the Ecuadorian beach is largely the same as any other beach I've been to: there's an ocean and some sand. The interesting parts were getting there, getting around there, the night life, and coming back. So, let's jump right into it.

First things first: the buses. I vaguely remember reading something about the long bus rides in Ecuador being very frightening before I came here, but I had largely forgotten about it. The bus was to leave Friday night at midnight and I was told that we would get there around 6 or 7 am. This would be the best so that we wouldn't have to travel at night time once we got to the coast. At first it was cool. I slept for a large majority of it all, it being, more or less, my night's rest. I remember drifting in and out and thinking that the bus was going really fast but I just went back to sleep.

But at 4:30 a.m. I woke up and stayed up. I was still tired but the bus seemed to be going extremely fast and taking sharp curves every few seconds. The road was very rocky and uneven in places and when I looked out the window I could see that we were passing just about everything else on the road. The thing was, the path was just a two-lane road (both ways) in the middle of nothing so when we passed other cars/trucks/whatever we were on that wrong side of the rode. And when he did it during turns...needless to say I didn't get anymore sleep until we arrived there, which was about 6 am. I was starting to drift off multiple times but that just made things worse as I kept being jerked awake by a new turn or at the bus driver honking his horn.

When we arrived it was really early and starting to drizzle. We took a 'cab' to Gabriel's friend's apartment, where we would be staying for the weekend. It was an interesting ride, going on the highway with that thing. They were all over the town and pretty effective, I'd say, if it weren't for the morning rain that was constantly hitting my face. It took us about ten minutes to get to our destination in this cab. We rested at the apartment for a while and then headed out at about 10 am to get food and drinks.

The food was pretty good. I had fish and rice. While we ate some kids were selling some kind of drink from a pitcher. They'd go around and pour a little bit in a cup, let you take a sample, and then you could buy a whole cup if you wanted. This wasn't restaurant specific, they'd just go door to door, so to speak.

There are a lot...and I mean A LOT, more black people (Afro-Ecuadorians) at the coast. I didn't really get to talk to any, but I just thought I'd point out that I noticed their existence.

The street by the beach (the boardwalk, if you will) was crowded with vendors, cars, bikes, taxis, and, of course, people. It was a place of great diversity from the foreign tourists (I saw someone with a Redskins shirt on and considered making that DC connection but thought better of it), to the local people spending a summer weekend at the beach, to the vendors trying to make a living. The common theme of everything being cheap was continued strongly here, with sunglass vendors selling nice ones for two dollars a pop. I got bottle water for about 25 cents a bottle and no meal cost over three dollars (there were the expensive choices, but they were usually something really rare or extravagant).

It was really hot. I think it was the first tie in my life that I looked straight up and the sun was right there. I remember at one point it was cloudy and I could still feel the sun beaming on me. Not just the heat of the day, but the sun itself. This had its advantages though, like the water not being cold. I swam for a good little bit but I think that I like the Jamaican beaches better by far.

That night we decided (or more so others decided and me, being the naive American, just followed along) to go to another beach and spend our night out there. My beach comrades had been drinking most of the day and some were pretty good to gone by the time we set out to leave. We walked out to the main road and it was pitch black. No street lights or nothing. The plan was to catch the bus to the other beach and Gabriel was put in charge of flagging down said bus (here there are no bus stops...you get on bus like you would get in a taxi: anywhere) with the flashlight. Bad idea. Instead of taking his job seriously he used the flashlight to harass other passing cars and before we knew it the bus passed us in an instant, unnoticing of us. Needless to say, someone else was put on flashlight duty.

We didn't know how long it would be until the next bus came so when a mini-bus stopped for us, we took it. Thing was, it was full inside so we had to climb on top. I wasn't too much thrilled by it but there were bars on the top and it looked like it was meant for people to ride there. In the city it felt like I was manuevering a car in grand theft auto because I had a clear topside view of all the other cars and people in the street. Once the truck/bus passed under a low tree branch and we had to duck but that was about the extent of anything out of the ordinary.

When we got off the bus we had to walk down the longest alley of life for about twenty minutes. We finally got to the boardwalk and it was a pretty lively place. We ate again and I remember that one of Gabriel's friends, the guy that owned the apartment, seemed to be really good at bartering. He sweet talked one of the waitresses to get a cheaper meal and he would usually be the one to talk to people at the different restaurants to find the cheapest choice before we ate down to grub.

Then we went over to an outside club, I guess you could call it. It was really nice. They had a great bar and they sold visually pleasing drinks that were all dressed up with different kinds of fruits, a dancing area, and a sitting area. It was right on the beach. It was a pretty cool night, for the most part.

The rest of the trip was pretty much the same. Our bus left the next day (Sunday) at 4 pm. I was thinking that this time it would be better because the stretch that had me up the morning before we would be taking during the day time on the way back. I don't think I could have been much more wrong in that assumption. This bus driver was more insane and I didn't think it was possible. He would honk at ANYTHING in the road. It would be a perfectly good driver in front of us, going a respectable speed, and this big mammoth of a bus we were on would come up behind it and honk it out of the way (two lanes, two ways, mind you) and then swerve past it. And then when night did come, around 6:30, we were still in those twisty turney roads. I was closer to the front this time and could see out the driver's window. When we took those turns in the wrong lane (to pass another vehicle) I kept wandering what if a bus coming our way was doing the same thing, but in the lane they were supposed to be in? It was unsettling but I saw that when this did happen our driver saw the other's headlights in advance and pulled back accordingly. But on one occasion we were passing two trucks that were bumper to bumper and I was thinking, once were half past them, that it would be too late to pull back now. And I do think that it was during a curve.

I stayed awake almost the whole time. I had planned to beforehand, though, and read my book, although I was frequently looking up to make sure we weren't about to die. Soon after I drifted off I woke up to find us stopped and pulled over on the side of the road. We were there for about an hour and I didn't know what the problem was, but it got really hot on the bus, windows fogged up and all, and people started getting off to sit outside for a little bit. Shortly after we were off again I heard a loud pop and I think it was one of the tires. We stopped again and ten minutes later it was instructed that the people in the back of the bus come to stand in the front and then we continued. This plan did not put my mind at ease at all but we continued on slowly and ere in Quito in about two hours.

The next stop for me is San Miguel this Sunday. Bad news is, though, is that I will be taking that same trip, probably longer, at night again. Leaving at 7 pm, I think. A friend of Jenny's from San Miguel came to stay this past Monday and he's going back Sunday so I am traveling with him. I have been mostly chillin this week, almost finished the first draft of my book (writing the final chapter tomorrow) and saw The Dark Knight today. I am excited about my trip, not looking forward to the bus right, though, to be perfectly honest. I think it's the most dangerous thing of life but, hey, that's what prayer is for, right?

The Wedding Weekend

It's been almost a week since my last post. Life has been somewhat busy. I have Spanish classes from 8:30 - 12:30 Mon-Fri and then I come home and go with the family to lunch at about 1 or 2 pm. From 3-6 I try to work on my novel. The first draft is almost finished, thank God. I really want to start on my next idea. And then the rest of the evening I try to talk a little to friends, talk to the people here, eat dinner, and study Spanish. Oh, and read. Currently, I'm reading Stephen King's The Stand, Uncut Edition, which is about 1200 pages. And I try to workout every now and then. I'm usually passed out at about 11 pm since I have to get up early in the morning.

Anywho, this past weekend was really interesting. Jenny, the nice lady that owns this homestay where I am currently typing from, has friends from an indigenous community called Iluman that got married this past weekend (Sunday) and we were invited to tag along. Iluman is close to Otavalo, which is a city that is known for its huge market every Saturday. The plan was for us travelers (Jim, a guy from Arkansas, Laura, a gal from Germany, and Katlian, another gal from Germany that is interning with Jenny) to get up early and go by bus on Saturday morning to Otavalo so that we can experience the market and then meet up with Jenny in the town of Iluman later that day.

We were all for the plan. Four city people with the chance to attend a community brimming with culture and on top of that able to sit in on one of their wedding ceremonies. It was a no-brainer for us. BUT, we're still in our 20's so, naturally, we went out Friday night. To sum up the night in a few sentences (so that I can get to the interesting stuff...you can go out and get drunk in America, it's not that unique) we went to this big strip of clubs and bars where a lot of tourists go and I ordered something called 'seis shotas' plus some other words that I didn't understand. I ordered it because my German friend said that the seis was the size of the shot glass and regular shot glasses are dos (2) so this would be like a triple shot. She was hella hella dumb. And me too for believing it, I guess. It was actually 6 'shots' (who knew) and by shots I mean 6 long ass test tubes filled to the brim. And apparently (and they knew this but just didn't tell me) the 'other words' meant hallucinogen. At first I was tripping cus I thought I had accidentally ordered something really expensive and when I found it out was really just the 6 dollars I originally thought, I threw down. It tasted like cough syrup. I ended up drinking 4 I think and then gave the other 2 away. I didn't hallucinate but I was fairly tipsy but not drunk. It didn't help that the club we went to had some weird stuff playing on the big screen....those anime cartoons that even Adult Swim won't show. It was, all in all, a fun night.

So the next morning we were off. A little late, we left at about 9:30. We caught a bus that cost 2 dollars and took us on a 3 hour ride, last stop Otavalo. The place was great, to sum it up in one word, and just crawling with life and diversity You had the people who no doubt come there regularly, the tourists (and they stuck out like sore thumbs, just like I'm sure I did. A tall white guy with a Nationals jacket on...he's like a black guy at one of them klan rallies), and the vendors themselves.

I'd say that there was a good variety of things being sold. You had your jewelry, your hats, your paintings, carvings, blankets, hand woven this, hand woven that, pots, pans, food, you name it. I even saw (randomly) toy guns being sold. And another thing that I found interesting were the chess sets that they had. The funny thing is that all of the chess pieces are made up of Ecuadorians and white settlers. ALL OF THEM. I found that funny. Laura, who bout a chess set, wanted to find one that wasn't like that. She couldn't.

So, at the market, you're supposed to bargain. It's expected of you. So, I was told, they will always start with a high price. Well, my eye first fell on this table with many different spherical objects with writings and drawings covering every inch of the shell. She wanted 8 dollars for it and I got her to come down to 6. No biggie. Next I saw this notebook with a carving of a turtle in metal melded to the front. She wanted 18 dollars for it. I said 12 and she tried to explain to me all the cool and good things about the little book. I said 15 was my final offer and she didn't seem to budge then I said No Gracias and started to walk away and she caved. It didn't feel like that much of a victory until I went a little ways and saw the same notebook for sale at another vendor. I asked him the price and he said 25! I guess I did get a deal. I also bought a small dolphin statue (incense holder) and a pen. I'll let the pen speak for itself....I thought it was too unique to pass up. Next was the food.

We ate there. I was a little iffy about it at first. Even though I have my bottle of perscribed pills waiting here at the house for me when my stomach inevitably succumbs to the difference in food and lifestyle, I wasn't ready to take the plunge just yet. But everyone else was.

We stopped at a little stand that had a whole pig (like the one you see above...can I just take the time to draw your attention to the little plant sticking out the top...that's quality) and potatoes and other foods. I saw that the plates were prepared with barehands and this is what made me kind of reluctant. But, like I said, the rest of my group was gungho. I finally sat down and thought I might as well. I ate two plates. It was good. And only a dollar each plate. We talked to some of the people from there as we ate, practicing our little bit of Spanish.

Can I mention a little thing? It'll just take a second. But one thing I really love about Ecuador is their abundance of bootleg movies. Like, there's a store on every block. And I believe it's legal. It must be. I now have The Hulk 2, IronMan, Indiana Jones, Narnia 2, Hancock, and 10,000 B.C. in my possession. Total price: 9 dollars. Ok, told you it wouldn't take long.

It was about time to head over to Ilaman. We hoped on another bus and were there in about 10 minutes. It was a nice little simple town with a great view. Only thing was, our guide (Katlian the intern) didn't know where to go and couldn't really get in contact with Jenny. We asked around and soon were right where we needed to be: the house of the bride's family.
They welcomed us with open arms. Really nice people. They had a nice sized house which looked pretty bare, but I could appreciate the simplicity. The house was like a square, with the outside lines being the inside area and the middle being a small roofless encased space where they did their washing and cleaning and hanging of clothes. They had a huge plant in the middle that was really marvelous. On the other side were two rooms. One was where they kept the chickens and the guinea pigs (yes, I said guinea pigs, but I'll get to that later) and the other was where they skinned and prepared animals and other food like corn and potatoes.
I'm sure everyone has heard of a small world. Well, get this. When we got there was a guy in his mid thirties, with child, that is from Washington, DC and lives on my block! Ok, maybe he doesn't quite live on my block, but he is from DC. He had come to stay with Jenny 7 years ago and met the family threw her, fell in love with their culture and had ended up staying with them for 4-6 months and has been coming back for visits ever since. He was to be the equivalent of the best man in the wedding (Jenny the maid of honor). He told us how when he came in 2001 they were without electricity or anything and now they had electricity, running water, and even a TV with DVD Player. He wondered about the latter tho because we Americans are so used to the violence in media that we are more likely to censor our children's viewing (well, some of us) but that they just let their kids watch whatever on these new things because they don't know that they can be harmful. He also told us a little about the culture and how corn was a very big thing for them. Coincidentally, it was around then that someone brought us some kind of drink made from corn. It was good.

Jenny wasn't there yet but they knew who we were (or atleast who we were with) and took us in no questions asked. They gave us dinner and we helped them peel a bunchload of potatoes while chatting with them. From left to right that's me (of course), Jim, nice lady (sister of the bride I think), nice old lady (really funny, always cracking some sort of joke and the ones I understood I thought were good) and Laura. Don't blame me...I'm really bad with names. After this we pretty much retired and went to sleep cus it was: 1) cold as hell 2) good for us to go to bed early to get up early.

We all know that roosters are supposed to crow with the sunrise. Well, I knew that too. Or thought I knew. Let me say now: that is some BS. The sun rises in Ecuador at 6 am EVERYDAY. At 4:30 I was laying there with the sound of three (at least) roosters in my ear, one crowing and then the other two responding. On top of that there was a religious celebration going on that lasts for 8 days and every morning there is some sort of fiestas. So here I was, laying there at 4:30 in the morning with rooster crows and singing and fireworks going off. I didn't mind too much, especially since I had gone to sleep at around 9. I took out my booklight, opened my Stephen King book, and read.

The wedding was at 10 am. It was really nice and the church was really nice. Just everything was really nice. I didn't really catch all that was said, but I got the vibe, and it was good. I had met the bride and the groom the night before. They are 23 and 19, respectively. From what I got, there was a lot of talk about marriage being final and lifelong and that every marriage should bear lots and lots of children. Lots and lots. One very interesting guest at the wedding was a dog. Right in the church. I heard afterwards that he had been run out a few times but when I saw him he looked as at home as anyone else. All over Ecuador there are stray dogs EVERYWHERE. And this one was no different. At least he was quiet during the ceremony.

Afterward was, well, the afterparty, what else? It was at the groom's family's house. Lots and lots of people and lots and lots of food. One thing about this town is that it is very much a mixture of old and new. New like electricity, tv, dvd players, the girlie posters in one of the rooms I saw, the stereo system at the fiesta and this here cake. Old like the culture that they have preserved so well. The broom and bride are the ones in the picture above between the guy from DC (one with child) and Jenny (older woman). They served soup with some type of beef and, I'm pretty sure, all the different parts of a chicken that could possibly exist. Like, some of it looked like straight up brains mixed with heart. But I ate it. All. Family members would bring us the plates or walk around with a big bottle of Cola or alchohol and offer drinks. Every drank out of the same cup. They just poured a drink, passed it to someone and after they were done they'd take the cup back and refill, moving to the next person.

See all that food (and the stray dog lurking?)? They spread it out on this big blanket on the floor and then put a lot in a big basket and carried that around with a bowl. People used the bowl and their hands to scoop out a large serving. I had to try my hand. It was rice, different kinds of beans, and potatoes. It was a really large serving, as you can see. And it wasn't even the main course! I ate a good deal of it but then couldnt anymore. The crunchy corn was really good though. I ended up donating the food to someone's bag (guessing they would feed their stock with it). The main course was steak (I think), potatoes, and rice. It was good. But remember I mentioned the guinea pig? Well, I didn't mention that at 4:30 in the morning when I was hearing all kinds of sounds I also heard the squealing of some of them guinea pigs. I couldn't resist that thought that it was about to be on my plate.


Guinea pigs are eaten in this town during special occasions. And what is more special than a wedding? I didn't get to have any that day, but Jenny, bless her heart, brought some home and I had some last night. The smell is pretty bad and it takes like nothing and hardly has any meat. It would be bearable if it werent for the smell. I think I'll pass on guinea pig in the future.

Then, after eating, there was a few traditional dances that took place. One was were a couple at a time would go under a blanket held up by four people and do a little dance where they would clap hands and then go to each other and then back up, sometimes doing turns. I liked it. Simple and meaninful (I imagine). Then also some of the natives did a dance for the bride and groom. I must mention that I like the garb they all had on. It made me feel quite underdressed in my jacket and (dirty) air force 1's on.

All the time this was going on there was a man on the mic. He was like the MC, I guess. I couldn't figure if he was supposed to be the MC or if he had just a little too much to drink and took the job upon himself. He talked for an hour straight during the music, the dancing, the eating, etc, etc. Every few seconds he'd errupt in an interesting laugh. YE HE HE HEEEAAAWWW!!! He looked like he was really enjoying himself. His laugh was one of a kind, though. Real talk.

After the wedding we went home. I remember feeling like my stomach was doing a little too much at the wedding party but I am glad to announce that two days later I'm col. Not sick at all. Overall it was a great weekend.

And just to finish it off....we saw a great view when we got off the bus and were back in Quito.

Black Man Can't Stay Out of Trouble

This post will be short because I just got done with a fairly long one. But, anyway, yesterday I had Spanish class from 8:30 am - 12:30 pm. They went OK and go by faster then you would think. During the 20 minute break at 10:30 I go to the nearest fast-food joint and order the same thing everyday. Pollo. Cus that's what I understand and that's what I like.

Anyway, I got back to my HomeStay at about 1 pm yesterday after class. I have a key and everything so there was no problem getting in. But once I got in, the alarm threatened to go off. I was never told how to shut it off (the security code). The house looked empty. I went upstairs to see if anyone was home. The house was empty. The alarm went off. This wasn't one of those punk alarms, either. It was so loud and was blaring from the outside that at first I wasn't aware that it was this very house broadcasting my presence to the world.

I didn't know what the best thing to do would be. The phone started ringing off the hook and I figured it was the security system. It might do worse to answer it. I didn't have Jenny's (the lady that owns the house) number. And my Spanish wasn't good enough to try to go outside and confront any police that may come. Even if it was, it would probably be a bad look for me. So I sat in my room and tried to wait it out. A few times I walked around and looked out the window and saw people passing by looking up at the house. Some saw me, I think. Great, a house with its alarms blaring and a single silhouette hovering by the upstairs window.

Eventually the alarm went off and Jenny came home. They had been out shopping when they got the call and rushed back. The police were apparently waiting outside but everything from then was OK. We had a big laugh about it. Or rather she had a big laugh about it and I smiled and nodded. She was sympathetic, though. The little devil, however, (remember her?) was quick to taunt and let me know how simple and easy it was to turn off the alarm. Afterwards, I was taught how to work the alarm and the password that I should say into the phone when the security people call. I thought it was a funny little experience, so I shared.

Mitad de Mundo

Here in Quito, I live in a HomeStay. From what I can tell, the main people that live in this house are Jenny, the owner, Pero, her husband that is about half her age, no lie, her granddaughter, aka the little devil, and her son’s girlfriend. Other than that, people come and go, like I have come and will, in time, leave as well. Another guy named Jim from the United States came the same day as I did, also did not know any Spanish and is taking lessons every day like me. So, naturally, we stick together.

This past Saturday we visited Mitad de Mundo, which translates to Middle of the World. We left fairly early, around 10 am and walked to the bus station. It took us about 90 minutes and two bus rides, culminating to about 40 cents total. Along the way, some things to take note of was how children would start doing backflips and handstands in the street during stoplights for money, the blind man that sang and whistled a tune along with his boombox on both our bus rides, and the Afro-Ecuadorian family that looked like they were tying to get their very sick daughter to the hospital, throw-up bag in hand and all.

When we arrived we paid a minimal fee to enter a museum that was supposed to be where the Ecuador line passed through. It was OK at best. There were a lot of shops but most of them had largely the same thing. These consisted of souvenirs (like small crystal versions of the tower shown above), hand-woven quilts, clothes, a chess set, postcards, etc, etc, etc.The food was good and there were a lot of tourists. There isn’t much to say about the place. One thing that I thought was kind of cool was the little buildings that contained models of the different cities, but as you’ll see in my next post, that was obsolete to me by the next day.

As I said, we sat down and ate there and I am still amazed by how cheap things are in this country. I'll let the menu speak for itself. I ordered the pollo (chicken). And yes, American currency.

My new English speaking companion, Jim, said that his teacher had told him about another museum close by where the REAL Ecuador line was. Apparently the natives had gotten it right hundreds of years ago and then Europeans came and screwed it up, as always. The first museum we went to, the more popular one, was about 200m off the mark.

Btw, I know I look a lil rough in the face, but I thought I might as well let the beard grow for 10 weeks, see where it takes me. Demetric, I'm putting in a reservatin for the 16th of September!

The second museum was the more interesting of the two by far! This was evident almost immediately upon entering. It had less of a tourist look to it and more like it was a genuine historic place that was being preserved.

We paid about 3 dollars for a tour and were put into a group with Jim, me, and three other tourists, 2 of them from Australia and one from Europe. The tour began in a house that was made by one of the many indigenous tribes in Ecuador. They came to the museum about a year and a half ago to build it. We learned that they never really wear clothes to represent their freedom.

Next we moved on to a replica of a tribe’s burial site, where an interesting story was told. Here, the dead are placed in the fetal position, as they believe that since we come into this world like that, we should enter the next life the same, and then encased in large vases. The interesting part is that when the chief of the tribe dies, his whole family (wife, children, etc) are drugged with a juice from a type of cactus that makes them go into this deep sleep. They are all then buried alive with the chief and they die of suffocation. It is not a sacrifice but considered an honor. The tour-guide joked that the moral of the story is don’t marry the Chief! I found it most interesting that the same cactus could be found growing just a few feet away at the museum.


On to things involving the sun! One thing that we heard a lot was that indigenous peoples of Ecuador would worship the sun a lot and try to harness its energies. During the tour we were taken to a spot that was calculated to be on the very Equator line itself, and that line was marked off in red. Along the line we found many instruments to tell time by catching the shadow of the sun. One of the instruments in particular, the guide said, was more accurate that our watches. I forget which days, but two days out of the year (equinox) the sun will be directly overhead at noon time and for a minute or two no shadows would be cast. A particular tribe would make a huge well in the ground and have someone stand at the bottom, his arms spread wide and thumbs up, at noon on equinox to fully "gather the energy of the sun." Another thing I learned, but what I already knew from my few days here but didn't quite process it into a thought yet, was that the sun rises and sets at 6 am and 6 pm everyday, all year around.


We then conducted a few experiments to prove that we were really on the equator. The first was the water trick. The guide (and the internet) says that this trick is helped out a little but I didn't see where the human interference came in. What he did was take a portable sink that was filled with water and place a bucket under the drain (plugged) to catch it. He would then put three leaves on the surface of the water and take out the plug, releasing the water into the bucket. On the equator line, the water went straight down without spiraling. He repeated this experiment just ten feet north and south of the equator line and (I forget which corresponds to which direction) the water spiraled clockwise or counter-clockwise on either side. I was impressed.

The second experiment was a strength one and I think it was mostly psychological. What the guide had us do was stand about 10 feet away from the equator line and instruct us to make our finger and thumb into an 'O' and try to keep them together while he pulled them apart. It was supposed to be easier for him to do pull our fingers apart at the equator because of something or other about centrifugal force. I noticed a difference, but again, I think that is probably psychological. Then we balanced an egg on a nail, which is supposed to be much easier at the equator because of the balance of forces there. Our whole group did it successfully and we each received a certificate for it. And they were serious abut it too, because I remember at the end of the tour he was trying to make sure he wasn't giving a certificate to someone who hadn't completed the heroic task.


The next part took us to a house that had been there for about 130 years. It was made of wood and leaves. It was made waterproof by the smoke, produced from cooking on the fireplace inside, melding to the leaves. It was decorated with trophy animal heads, had an interesting looking chair made from the stump of a tree, pots and pans, etc. Since the area was high-elevation, it would get cold at night so the family that lived there would, get this, keep many many live guinea pigs in their house to supply body heat! And there was actually a little guinea pig den there when we went.

The tour ended at a hut that had a vast collection of stuffed animals and artifacts. There was a large dead anaconda being preserved in a tank and it was said that it used to be the museum's pet a coupel years ago. Another dead pet put on display was a large tortoise from the Galapagos. There was a tarantula, other insects, smaller snakes, and that little devilish creature you hear about swimming up a man's pecker and then making it its home, having to be surgically removed. I had heard about that a lot in movies and stories, but had always wondered if it were real. It is in the last visible jar (the right) and you can see how big it gets! Hopefully none of these are in the San Miguel waters, as I have heard that I will need to bathe in the river once I get there.


In a little glass box, off to the side, was what looked like something I had only seen in cartoons, really. It was a little green object, about the size of a baseball, but it had eyes, a mouth, eyes and...was that hair? It was. A genuine shrunken head. Estimated age of victim: 13-14 years of age. Overhead they had two posters that explained the process in pictures. If you ever wanted to know how shrunken heads are made, look no further.

Step 1 - 3: Remove the head! Step 4: Remove the excess stuff, meaning the skull and brains, leaving only the cartilage in the nose. Step 5: Um...travel with the head? Step 6: This is how they actual shrink it. They boil it in their secret recipe and then, I guess, let it sit out to dry.

Step 7: Sew up the eyes. Step 8: Sew up the mouth. Step 9: Add rocks to make it keep its form. Steps 10-12: Enjoy. The reason for shrunken heads is for a trophy. In war when someone is killed, sometimes the killer will take the head and make it into a shrunken head trophy. I also think they believe this traps the soul. The 14 year old they had on display was old enough to fight and, thus, old enough to die. They shrink monkey heads these days, just to keep up with the tradition.

On the way backhome, Jim and I all of a sudden noticed that a lot of people were getting off the bus but we didn't recognize the stop (we were waiting for the popular station where we would change buses). We thought maybe we should get off but we didn't know the surroundings, so we stayed on. Then things got really unfamiliar and Jim, with his handy dandy compass, said we were heading in the wrong direction. We decided to get off at a random spot and catch our bearings. We walked down a foreign street for about 2 minutes and then saw that we had stumbled on the street our homestay was on. We had gotten off only a few blocks away from our destination and that was with just one bus instead of the previously required two. Luck at its best!
BTW, me at the REAL Equator:

Little Spoiled Brats Exist Worldwide

I don't have time for a full out post. I had a full weekend, visiting the Equator yesterday and going to the took of the mountains overlooking Quito today and I have Spanish lessons at 8:30 tomorrow morning, so I should be hitting the sack soon. But I will hopefully have my experiences in writing and up sometime tomorrow.

One thing I have to include in this Blog somewhere, though, is commentary on the little eight-year old terror that runs rampid through this house. A cute little girl, the first day or so I figured she would be a well-mannered, well-behaved child and that the true brats were indigenous only to what we consider first-world countries. I was wrong.

Thankfully, I have observed most of her terrors from a distance, the first one being at the dinner table. She was yelling something about the small dog (think Yo quiero Taco Bell!) in the house to her grandmother (my Ecuador-mom) and did all but jump up and down in place, arms flailing like you see in those old kid movies. She yelled and had an openly nasty attitude, even making a swinging motion a few times towards the grandmother like she wanted to hit her. I personally think a butt-whoopin is in order.

Second encounter was when she was mad at, again, the dinner table and was throwing a hissy fit and knocked over her juice, spilling it all over the table. Didn't apologize. Didn't even look like she noticed. Just continued her spoiled little rant.

Tonight it got a little personal but not so much. This other guy, who is from the United States and has stayed here for about as long as I have, was with me at the dinner table with part of the family. We were speaking with them in Spanish as practice and the little girl kept taunting us and laughing at how bad our Spanish was. Little devil.

Anywho, this blog probably wasn't worth posting but it has been a few days and I want to put a lot of time into the upcoming one about my weekend meaning it couldn't happen tonight.

And, sidenote: It's funny to me how some of my friends seem shocked that I am on the internet. America isn't the only modern place, people!

My first days

So here I am in Quito, Ecuador. Some of you may be wondering why I am here. Random, isn't it? I don't know a lick of Spanish (well, know I know a lick, but two days ago I didn't), this trip isn't put on by Stanford, and I don't really know anyone here. Nor did I know anything about Ecuador before coming - only that it was near the Equator, is home to part of the Amazon and all of the Galapagos, and there are indigenous communities willing to house an outsider. In short, I am here for a unique experience. City boy, arguably sheltered from the unforgiving streets of DC, only knowing English, and never really been out of the country. Seems like I would have a lot to learn and gain from an experience like this, eh? Well, I sure do hope so. Once I learn some Spanish to get by here in Quito I want to move on to those indigenous communities - San Miguel to be exact, to really be exposed to something I never have been before. I also want to spend this summer writing, working on an existing novel and garnering inspiration for a second.

I arrived July 1st. I'll spare you the details of my overly long travel time. Just know that it was long and by the time I had passed through Ecuadorian customs and gotten my bags, I was ready to sleep. Gabriel, a young Ecuadorian man about my age, was waiting for me with a nice little sign. He arranged my Homestay and would be the one to make sure my time here is safe and, most important, worthwhile (wait, are my priorities right?). Needless to say, I slept for about 12 hours once I got to my Homestay in Quito, after I met the nice old lady that wanted to be known as my new "Ecuador-Mom."

I always think that the first day of any new adventure in life is the longest. Whether that's moving in day at Stanford as a freshman or taking on a new country, it just seems that so much happens in that one day. Well, on July 2nd, despite me waking up damn near noon, it was one of those days. I read a little bit - oh, yes, I brought a lot of books, every writer needs to do two things to be successful: read and write - when I woke, took a shower and then debated about going downstairs. Gabriel, my link to the English language, was gone and leaving my room meant stepping into a world that did not understand me. My stomach finally got the best of me and I slowly climbed down the stairs. Luckily, there are other people staying in this house that know English. I was able to grab some breakfast and then went back up to my room.


I noticed two interesting things. One, as I was looking out my window, I saw that the house next door has a surrounding wall that is covered with broken glass on its top. My guess is that its a substitute for barbed wire to keep people out. Another is a comical picture that was hanging above the toilet in the bathroom.

Later, my 'Ecuador-Mom" took me to a late lunch. She speaks hardly any English. All she could really say was that in one week I should be able to get by. The restaurant was a nice, small one. One of the many unique things about it was the upside down baskets that the light bulbs from the ceiling were poking through. We met up with two of her friends and I felt out of place a little, as it was obvious no one at that table knew English but me. And everyone knew Spanish but me. I remember thinking how it all sounded like gibberish to me. Gibberish Gibberish Gibberish. I looked forward to the day I could make meaning out of it.

When I returned to my room, I exercised a bit and got light-headed, probably from the high altitude. Oh, did I mention Quito is cold. Ecuador. Equator. Coincidence? I think not. You'd think it'd be hot as satan's oven, but the temperature is a lot like North Cali. Ah, thousands of miles just for more Bay Area weather.

Gabriel came later and picked me up to watch the soccer game. Ecuador was playing Brazil in some championship and Ecuador had won the last game and this would be the final one. He introduced me to some of his friends. More English speakers. We went to a bar where the game (taking place in Brazil) was being broadcast. Chaos. Pure, uncensored, fun chaos. Chanting, yelling, shirts swinging over heads, etc, etc. You name it, the bar was alive with it. I didn't like the beer showers that happened every time Ecuador scored and was secretly hoping they'd lose to save me from being wet and smelly, but hey, it was a big thing for the country. Can't be mad at that. Every time I turned around someone offered me a drink. I didn't drink much, as my stomach was/is still getting used to the new surroundings, but Gabriel and his friends sure did! All and all, it was fun. Ecuador won and then the parties moved to the streets. It was all innocent and I didn't see a single fight, much different from what I'm used to. Hell, I thought if a fight can break out at Stanford, it could anywhere!

One lesson I learned from the night: don't eat off the streets (vendors)! Now, luckily, unlike many of life's most important lessons, I learned this the easy way. Not only was I warned of this many times, but I also saw some preparing of the food in action. The goal was shredded lettuce. The method: bare hands, a piece of wood, and more bare hands. The lady behind the stand would take a half head of lettuce and scrub it across the wood. She would then gather the shreds with her hands and then plop them in a bowl. Then she would go back over it with her hands like she was cleaning a window, getting every little piece. In to the bowl. Restaurants and home-cooked meals for me, please.

I took lessons today and took a cab there. I got out a few blocks away from my destination and as I turned the corner to reach my building, a small boy had a box strapped over his shoulders, like the vendors at baseball games selling popcorn and candy. Only this boy, no older than 8, was selling candy and cigarettes. I politely declined. My lesson was four hours long and one on one. It's fun, in a way, and she says I learn fast. They probably tell that to everyone, considering I have six years of French under my belt and the closest thing I know is how to say "Would you like to sleep with me tonight?" thanks to Patti Labelle (aw, hell, we all know its more thanks to those 4 singers no one really hears about anymore, except for Lil Kim maybe).

Well, I think that's enough for now. I wish I would have taken pictures last night during the soccer game activities. I am slowly learning Spanish, I think, but everything is still gibberish. My goal is to be able to go to San Miguel in a little over 2 weeks and be able to hold my own. We'll see how that works out.