Last Week in Cuenca

My last week in Cuenca was realtively mellow, but I have a few interesting tales to tell. 
This past Wednesday, my Spanish teacher, Monica, and I went to the Panama Hat Factory as our weekly excursion outside of the classroom.

 Mi profesora, Monica

On our walk back, I noticed that we were really close to CDI San Francisco and asked Monica if she wanted to pop into the school with me for a minute. When we arrived, all of the kids were sitting in the common area engaged in some type of activity (although I couldn't quite tell what).  Two Norwegian girls from Simon Bolivar were working with the kids in the mornings and when I saw their faces as I walked through the door, I knew something was up.  They explained to me that minutes earlier, the teachers placed the only black child in the school up in front of the other kids so they could sing a hurtful and derogatory song about his hair.  I asked the girls if this little boy was misbehaving or anything before the incident and they assured me that he was not.  I was extremely angry to hear that the women at CDI SF would intentionally embarrass a child.  Even worse, is the fact that they choose to convey a message of intolerance and ignorance to the other children.  In the United States, they would have a lawsuit on their hands.  I was in a foul mood when I showed up for work that afternoon, but the kids were able to brighten my spirits a bit. 

That night, after seething at the incompetency of the CDI SF women, I decided to blow off some steam at my school's weekly salsa class.  I think I've mentioned already that the majority of the students at Simon Bolivar are in the 65 plus age bracket.  In case I haven't, you now can get a pretty clear picture of what my salsa class looked like!   A dozen retirees, two young Norwegian guys, and me...and I was still the worst dancer there.

That evening, I received an email from the Montana boys that they were back in Cuenca after a failed excursion to the Ecuadorian coast.  In addition, Tamara, one of the girls I went horseback riding with in Vilcabamba, had just arrived in Cuenca as well.  I looked forward to meeting up with all of them the next night.  When we did all get together on Thursday for happy hour, it was great to share stories about the last few weeks, throw back a few Pilseners, and listen to the live band at the Inca Bar.  The next day was my last in Cuenca and I found myself feeling sad to leave this great city but, at the same time, excited to move on to Trujillo.

During my last day at CDI SF, the kids had a dance party to send me off.  It was so adorable to watch them all dancing and singing.  As their parents began to arrive at the end of the day, one little boy, Fernando, asked me, "Por que tienes salir? Me duele el corazon"....Which means, "Why do you have to leave? My heart hurts".  I almost lost it right there...it was the cutest thing I've ever heard.

(From Left: Jose Luis, Andrea, Fernando, Erinzon)

On Friday night, I met up with Ryan, Cody, and Tamara again, and we tore up the town.  Actually, not really, I was in bed by 1AM, which by Soth American standards, is like going to bed at 8:30.  When I got home, my host mom let me in.  She looked upset, but I figured she was probably just tired and annoyed that their housekeeper had locked me out by accident. 

I found out the next morning that Mama's father had passed away the night before from a long battle with cancer.  The entire family was out and about dealing with funeral arrangements and other things so I accpeted the fact that I wouldn't get a chance to say good bye and thank them for their incredibile hospitality.  I was amazed when they all returned for lunch to bid me farewell.  I am so lucky to have been placed with such wonderful people during my time in Ecuador.  I will miss the Benitez clan immensely. 

(From left: Miri, Estafania, Mama, Me, Victor, Monica)

I left Cuenca on Saturday afternoon with Fernando, a family friend of the Benitez's, whom I hired to drive Tamara and me to the Peruvian border.  I anticipated a long and exhausting journey from the get go, but nothing could have prepared me for the next 36 hours.  From Cuenca to Tumbes, Peru it takes approximately 5 hours by car.  When we arrived at the border, it was total mayhem.  The one road that connects Ecuador to Peru is essentially a one way road that acts as a pedestrian thoroughfare and the main highway for every bus and car entering the country.  (Think Tiajuana, with less traffic and far more confusion.)  Weaving our way through fruit carts and whole families on motorcycles, I was convinced that we were going to take at least one person out with the car. 

Border Crossing

Once we arrived in Tumbes, my goal was to get on the next overnight bus to Trujillo.  I knew that there were close to a dozen bus companies that operate trips down the coast.  However, for some unknown reason, every bus company informed me that, while there were several buses leaving for Lima, there was nothing going to Trujillo that night.  I was pretty annoyed, especially since the whole point of my leaving Cuenca, when I did, was to sleep on the bus between Tumbes and Trujillo.  Luckily, Tamara wasn't scheduled to leave for Lima until the next morning, so the two of us split a room in a dark and musty hotel room. Tumbes is an armpit of a town, but it was fun to walk around the main square at night with all the kids out and about.  Tamara and I were the only gringos for miles and we stuck out like two giant, white beanstalks.

Downtown Tumbes

The next morning,  my bus left at 11am and was slated to arrive in Trujillo around 9pm.  I hunkered down for what was going to be a long day of sitting on my ass.  In comparison to my experiences with the Ecuadorian bus companies, I was pleasantly surprised by how comfortable the buses are here.  However, as we inched our way south through the Peruvian coastal dessert, I quickly realized that there was no way we were going to arrive in Trujillo by nine.  Five hours in a car to the border, an unanticipated overnight stay in Tumbes, and 12.5 hour bus ride later, I arrived in Trujillo at 11.45PM.  However, the bus company literally dropped me off on some random street corner, nowhere near the terminal where my escorts were planning to pick me up.  I walked into the police station nearby and the officer kindly invited me to sit down while I tracked down my new housemates.  (Elizabeth is a Stanford graduate who has been living and working in Peru since last summer.  Jean Paul is from Lugano, Switzerland and just arrived in Trujillo two weeks ago.)  Elizabeth and Jean Paul arrived a few minutes later to take me to the house that I will be sharing with them and few others for the next month.

As I entered the house, exhausted and completely braindead from all of my travels, I immediately noticed a pungent aroma wafting down the hall.  As he was saying goodnight, Jean Paul cheerfully said to me, "I hope that the cuyes let you sleep in tomorrow".  As I peered out my window, I realized that the central courtyard of the house doubles as a pen for fifteen guinea pigs, which if you recall my past dining experience, is most likely to be dinner tomorrow night.  And the adventure continues...

The Kids Are Alright...

This past Monday I started my volunteer work at CDI San Francisco.  I was originally told that I would be working with older kids, helping them with their school work, etc..  However, the good people at Simon Bolivar decided that either a) more help was needed in the daycare center and/or b) my Spanish skills are that of a 3-4 year-old and, therefore, my services would be best utilized with the younger children.  No matter the reason, I arrived that afternoon ready for an afternoon full of nose-picking and finger painting. 

I was amazed at how quickly the kids warmed up to me.  After about 5 minutes of bewilderment, it was like I had always been there.  By the end of the day, they were calling me ¨Tia¨(Auntie).  It is adorable to hear them speak to me in Spanish with their little voices. The most amussing part is that they still haven´t figured out that I can´t understand most of what they tell me. Communicating with the kids is tricky, but I have mastered a few key phrases: ¨Sientate¨(sit down), ¨Calmate¨(calm down), ¨¿Cuidado!¨ (careful), ¨¿Que paso?¨(What happened?), ¿Que es eso? (What is that?)---this last phrase comes in especially handy when one of the kids brings something over to me for inspection (usually a piece of a chewed up toy).

While the niños exceeded my expectations in every way, I was shocked by the dismal state of the facility itself.  There are barely any toys in the classrooms save a few blocks, some puzzles, and a scattering of some of the worst children´s literature I´ve ever seen.  Most of the books are simply Disney movies that have been shortened into 6-8 page summaries, which are then mass produced at print shops in the city.  In addition, there is very little in the way of furniture.  In my classroom, there are two chairs and no tables.  The kids do all of their sleeping, eating, and playing on the floor.  There is furniture in the other classrooms, but it is generally under utilized.  The staff do the best they can with their minimal resources, but it´s a hard pill to swallow.

Ok, I´ll stop being Debbie Downer and share some really cute pictures with you:

 

Of course, the most common occupational hazard associated with childcare is the guarantee that you will get sick A LOT (regardless of how much hand sanitizer you use).  It only took two days of contact with a room full of hacking and sneezing kids for me to catch something, which I still haven´t managed to shake. 

Moving on, there is a new American girl living in my house.  Her name is Anna and she is from Boston (of all places).  Anna is having a pretty easy time here, seeing as her father is Columbian, her mother is Puerto Rican, and she is fluent in Spanish.

This past weekend was my last in Ecuador and I decided to spend it in Vilcabama, which is about 4 hours south of Cuenca.  Vilcabamba is often refered to as ¨Valley of Longevity¨ because there are a disproportionate number of 100-year-old residents there.  I booked a room at the Hosteria Izhcayluma, which numerous people told me was their favorite spot in Ecuador. 

After last week´s bus debacle, I decided to go crazy and take a $12 shared van from Cuenca to Loja and then a taxi to Vilcabamaba because I would be arriving so late in the evening.  My hopes of having a tranquil ride south, however, were quickly dashed.  Our van was supposed to leave at 6, but we didn´t get on the road until 6:45, which meant one less hour in paradise for me.  In the hope of making up for lost time, our maniac driver decided that he would travel at twice the speed limit the entire trip.  I had the unfortunate luck of sitting in the middle of the second row, so I could see every insane move that this guy made.  Pass a cattle car at 80 miles per hour around a blind curve?  SURE!  Drive on the wrong side of the road for long stretches of time for absolutely no reason?  Don´t mind if I do! 
Oh, and the cake-topper: because the main road winds through numerous mountain passes, the fog was impenetrable and the guy behind the wheel was basically driving blind for half of the trip. Seriously, I almost crapped my pants.

Another divine miracle occured and we coasted into Loja around 10 o´clock.  I was not looking forward to wandering around the city in search of a taxi, but serendipitously, one of the other passengers in the van lived in Vilcabamaba and offered to share his taxi with me.  Vladamir, a kind, vegetarian, Russian expat, was truly my saviour that night, and I just want to give him a big shout-out here!

I got to Izhcayluma and, since the reception desk was closed, wandered down to the open air bar where a bunch of laid back hippies were enjoying their evening.  I met Cecilia, the receptionist at the bar and she told me to just relax, have a beer, and she´d get me to my room eventually.  Over drinks, Cecilia invited me on a horseback riding trip she was going on the next morning.  Since I purposely hadn´t made any plans for the weekend, I happily accepted her invitation. 

I woke up the next morning and made my way up to the dining area for breakfast.  Since I arrived so late the night before, I hadn´t been able to see anything.  The view from the restaurant was incredible:

At nine, Cecilia, two other girls, and I packed up and left with Rene, the owner of the horse outfitter.  Cecilia had warned me the night before that it was going to be a long, 6-hour ride/hike to a waterfall up in the mountains.  The last time I was on a horse was about 5 years ago, and it was for about an hour and consisted of a super mellow ride through a grassy field in New Zealand.  So, when we left town at a full gallop, curving in and out of traffic on the dirt road leading up to the trailhead, I knew that I was in way over my head. 

Once the road ended, we slowed our pace and began our ascent up into the mountains.  The trails were extremely narrow, rocky, and erroding from frequent floods, but my trusty steed, Sultan, navigated the trails with ease.  One of the girls on my trip did not have such great luck with her horse assignment, and after her caballo tripped and almost sent her flying, she dismounted and abruptly decided that she couldn´t and wouldn´t go any further.  And then there were 4...

The rest of the day was great, the waterfall was beautiful and the avocado sandwiches provided by Jamie, our guide, were just perfect.  The ride back down was a bit more nerve-wracking, and by the last 20 minutes, my body was sore everywhere.  And as if the weather gods were playing a cruel joke, just as we neared town, the skies opened up and drenched us to the bone. 

That night, I was exhausted and went to bed early so that I could wake up and have a full day before returning to Cuenca.  I spent Sunday walking into town, people-watching as locals and retired expats lulled about the town squre.  I sat and enjoyed some delicous fresh fruit juice at The Juice Factory and spent my last few hours reading by the flower gardens at my hostel.  Vilcabamba is a truly special place.  The air just smells better there and a lingering sense of calm seems to fill the entire town...

...even the puppy at Izhcayluma.

 

Baños y Buses

After a blissful afternoon at the hot spings in Cuenca last Tuesday, I returned to the city center for a pre-dinner snack at a local cafe.  This decision, turns out, was a very unfortunate one indeed.  Without getting into the details, I was essentially in a state of semi-agony for the next 48 hours.

Note to Readers: If you ever come to Cuenca, I highly advise against eating the crepes at Fruitlados (located on the main square). 

Being sick was bad enough, but I was terrified that I wouldn´t recover in time for my 7+ hour, overnight bus ride to Baños on Thursday.  Luckily, by Thursday morning I was feeling somewhat better, and by that evening, was actually able to eat without issue.  Good news for me, since my meal on Thursday night was, by far, the best meal I´ve had in Ecuador thus far.  Paul was kind enough to offer me a ride to the bus terminal. Before he dropped me off, we ate at Tiestos.  Tiestos, is a local favorite, where the food is prepared on metal skillets and set to simmer under large ceramic domes.  The entire plate is then brought to your table, steaming hot, with an incredible assortment of side dishes.  Seriously, this place was amazing. 

After dinner, Paul drove me over to the bus station, where I jumped on board the northbound Santa Express, secured my valuables to my seat using my trusty ski lock (thanks for the tip, Dave), popped a few sleeping pills, and passed out for 6 hours before arriving in Ambato, where I then switched buses for the last leg of the trip to Baños. 

Baños is located at the base of the still-active volcano, Tungurahua.  In 1999 and 2006, residents of Baños were forced to evacuate because of volcanic activity.  In 2008, there was also a minor eruption, but no damage was suffered by the town.  Later in the weekend, I would have a chance to see some of the damage that occured on the other side of the mountain, but more on that later.

View of Downtown Banos

I originally thought I would be spending my weekend in Baños solo, but it turned out that my Montana friends and a few other people from my trip to Cajas were there already. It was really great to have a few hiking (and drinking) buddies waiting for me.  I arrived at my hostel around 7:30 in the morning, and after a short nap, Ryan, Cody, and I started out on a hike up into the hills surrounding the town.  Our goal was to make it to a tree house that an Australian traveler told me about.  The hike was pretty strenuous (especially since I haven´t been running down here) and a bit strange since we were basically walking through people´s backyards the majority of the time.  We even met a few friends along the way:

The long climb was well worth it as we approaced the ¨Casa del Arbol¨.  I´ll let the pictures speak for themselves:

 

That night, we went out for dinner at this great Argentine restaurant right by our hostel with a Swiss guy named Andre who I met in Cajas.  The food was delicious and the decor was hilarious.  I wish I had pictures, but the lighting was awful inside and none of my photos came out well.  After, we went out for a few beers, debated politics, and had a great night all in all.

I woke up Saturday morning, excited for the rafting trip I had signed up for when I first arrived in Baños.  Since my excursion didn´t leave until 2 PM, I spent the morning reading on the roof deck at my hostel and catching some rays.  I arrived at the rafting outfitter and was a bit intimidated when I realized that I was the only non-native Spanish speaker in my group, and the only person over the age of 21.  Sweet, an afternoon with 8, 19-year-old Chilean girls.  Perfect.

We set off in the van with our guides, but didn´t leave the city right away.  In fact we circled the town center 6 times (for reasons unknown to me).  I was beginning to think that I was being scammed, when 5 more people ran up to our van, jumped in, and we finally sped off.  This kind of practice, I´m learning, is not uncommon in Ecuador.  An empty seat on a rafting van (or a long-distance bus ride) is highly unlikely to remain vacant.  While we were driving in circles, one of the rafting guides was running around town asking tourists if they wanted to join our group.  Apparently, he was successful. 

The Rio Patate runs into the Amazon and as we drove out of Baños, the surroundings began to look more and more jungle-like.  The rafting far surpased my expectations as we floated past overflowing trees, small villages, and local kids playing in the water.  All in all, it was a great day on the river. How could I have known that the most hair-raising part of my weekend wouldn´t be white water rafting, but getting out of Baños the next day.

Rio Patate, where our rafting trip ended.

Saturday night was mellow and when I woke up Sunday morning, I was already dreading the bus ride home.  I said goodbye to Cody and Ryan at the bus station, and got on a bus to Riobamba.  As of Aug. 2009 (the date when my Lonely Planet guidebook was published), this route was closed due to major damage suffered during one of the last volcanic eruptions.  I came into Baños via a different route for this very reason.  Clearly, the road had been repaired and buses were now free to travel the shorter route south. 

Whoever the engineers are who gave the greenlight for the reopening of this road should be severely punished.  This was, no joke, the sketchiest stretch of highway I have ever been on in my life.  First of all, it was basically a one-way dirt track with huge chunks of  ¨pavement¨ missing from where the lava came ripping down the side of the mountain.  Second, there are many local people who thoroughly enjoy using the road as a dirtbike path.  Third, on the right side of the road is a 300 ft drop into a ravine (and there are no guardrails).  The old woman sitting on the other side of the aisle from me was praying outloud, crossing herself tirelessly, as she stole glances of the drop below.

I´m not sure how, but we manged to make it to Riobamba, where I missed my connecting bus back to Cuenca by five minutes.  The next bus wasn´t for another 2.5 hours.  Yeah, the trip home was off to a great start. 

My brief evaluation of the Ecuadorian transport system: I have to hand it to Ecuador; for a country where 40% of people live below the poverty line, they have a relatively comprehensive transit system.  However, I would like to make a few suggestions to the Minister of Transportation to improve bus travel in Ecuador.

 1)  If a bus line claims to offer service to a city, the route should terminate at the city´s terminal and not at an undisclosed, random street corner on the outskirts of town.

2) Street vendors may still sell their wares onboard buses, but only when said buses are parked in the terminal.  As soon as the driver pulls out of the station, vendors must vacate the motorcoach immediately.  Also, sales pitches must be limited to 3 minutes or less. 

3) Vendors should be prohibited from entering a bus once it is en route.  Entering a moving bus to sell illegally burned copies of Justin Bieber albums should also be barred.

4) Bus drivers must eat before departing from the terminal.  Drivers should not be allowed to stop the bus outside of town at their favorite chicken joint for 15 minutes, while passengers are left to wonder what the hell happened to the guy at the wheel.

5) There should be two types of bus service:
a) An express service that does not stop for every single person on the side of the road AND in every town so that the driver´s assitant can run around the
town square asking if anyone is bound for _______(fill in blank with appropriate destination city)
b) Standard service where the abovementioned tactics may be employed.

6) The driver´s assistant is not allowed to play music on the bus speakers unless he has a 2/3 majority vote from the passengers.  This includes, but is not limited to; Ecuadorian polka, techno accordian, and Justin Bieber´s greatest hits.  If a 2/3 majority is reached, the music must be played at a reasonable volume. 

7)  Finally, Jean Claude van Damme films (in Spanish, or English with Spanish subtitles, or English with dubbed Spanish audio) should henceforth be banned from all Ecuadorian transit vehichles. 

Settling In

Before I left for Ecuador, my former boss, Fernando, gave me the contact information for his cousin, Paul, in Cuenca.  Paul operates a tour company here in the city and helps foreigners relocate to Ecuador.  Last Wednesday, I met Paul for the first time.  We went out for coffee and he gave me some great advice about where to spend my weekends.  After getting to know each other a little bit, he asked if I had tried the national dish, cuy, yet.  (For those of you who don´t know, cuy is guinea pig.)  I knew that I would have to try cuy eventually, but I was hoping to have a bit more time to prepare myself before eating the little buggers.  Paul insisted and off we went to his favorite cuy restaurant.  Unfortunately, it was closed, and so was the next place we went.  Paul suggested that we head out of the city to a more traditional place he knew about. 

Anthony Bourdain lovers will appreciate my experience as we pulled up to a house located in a small ¨suburb¨ of Cuenca.  The restaurant, named after a famous San Francisco landmark,

was basically the owner´s private dining room.  As we entered, the family was sitting in their living room watching television.  Paul and I were seated in a room next to the kitchen. I had the chance to take a few pictures of the poor little guys roasting on an open fire in the backyard.

Needless to say, I was not particularly excited about my upcoming meal after I saw this:

Much to my surprise, I actually enjoyed the cuy (but could have gone without the head on the plate, looking up at me in horror). 

On Thursday, I went out for lunch with an Australian couple that was attending Simon Bolivar with me.  While we were eating, two Americans came into the restaurant and we were all chatting for a bit.  It turns out that they are firefighters from Montana (my new favorite state), so we talked about our travel plans and agreed to meet up for a drink later that night.  Before meeting up with the Montana boys (Ryan and Cody), my host mother and I walked down to the ¨Dia de los Innocentes¨ parade, which marks the official end of the Christmas season in Ecuador.  All of the kids dress up in costumes and the adults get drunk...basically halloween with some Jesus mixed in.  I met up with Ryan and Cody around 6 and they took me to a bar owned by an American expat close to the river.  We had a few beers, talked with a few local crazies, and generally had a nice time. 


During my class on Friday, my teacher took me and a few other students to the indigenous market close to my school.  While there, I took part in a traditional cleansing ritual with one of the local shamans.  Had I known what I was getting myself into, I probably would have abstained from this activity.  Basically, an old woman  gathers several types of herbal plants and flowers and then beats you with them until you are rid of bad vibes. This lady was literally beating me with the bouquet of herbs, then she took and egg and ran it all over my body, cracked the egg in a bag and told me that I have good energy.  Last but not least, she drank and bit of liquid (something with medicinal properties I assume) and spit it out in my face!  Yeah, probably not the most hygenic activity.   

On Saturday morning, Paul and his tour group picked me up at 8:30 and we headed to Cajas National Park, which is located 20 miles outside of Cuenca.  The park was beautiful and I met some really great people on my tour (including a girl from San Francisco who lives in the Mission).  We visited a couple spots in the park, including the South American continental divide, and completed a 5 mile hike to various lagoons.

 View of Cajas National Park from the sub tropical jungle.








Paul and I on our hike in Cajas.

More beautiful views...












On Sunday, Paul took me and another group to the Ingapirca Ruins about 2 hours north of the city.  On our way there, we stopped at a traditional market in the town of Cañar.  The weather was pretty crappy up in the mountains, but it was so interesting to see all of the local vendors selling everything from local fruit to cow heads.  The people from Cañar are super short because of the altitude.  I kid you not, I saw some women who looked to be about 3 and half inches tall.

A flower vendor in Cañar.

Anyone need a cow head?


The weather was even worse in Ingapirca,which is about 12,000 feet above sea level.  Paul took us around the ruins while we all froze our asses off.  The views from the top of the moutain were amazing and we got to see an often overlooked part of the countryside on the way home.

 The Ruins of Ingapirca

Re: last week´s post, here are the promised photos:

 

My host father, Victor.  I mean, the resemblance is uncanny.

                                 T

The excavation site by my school.  I get the chills every time I walk by this place. 

Best Photo of the week: 

First Set of Photos

 The outside view of my school in Cuenca.

 The interior view of Simon Bolivar.

 The variety of vintage cars in Cuenca is amazing.

 A sampling of the beautiful architecture.

 The Old Cathedral

 ...and the New Cathedral.

 

Inside the New Cathedral 

 The Flower Market

 Balcony at a bar in Cuenca

 View of the Mountains from Calle Largo

 I know it's a cliche, but...I had to document my first Ecuadorian beer.

The First Few Days

I knew that coming to a foreign country and diving head first into speaking Spanish 24.7 would be difficult, but nothing can prepare you for the mental strain that full immersion brings.
Where to begin....

I arrived in Ecuador on Saturday night without any major travel hiccups.  There was a driver waiting for me at the airport to take me to my hotel.  I was exhausted when I go to the little hostel in Quito but made an effort to chat with the three American basketball players that I met in the lobby.  All three have been living in South America on and off for years and have traveled all over the continet.  One of them was kind enough to escort me to get some food down the street, where I got a miniscule taste of Quito's night life.

The next morning, I woke up at 6am to drive back to the airport for my flight to Cuenca.  All seemed to be going well until I arrived in Cuenca with 150 other passengers and ZERO pieces of luggage.  Apparently, the airline decided that our plane was too heavy and removed all of the bags from the plane without telling anyone.  Ahhhh, the joys of flying overseas.

Luckily, my program coordinator in Cuenca, Jessica, was able to confirm with the airline that my bags were, in fact, on their way to Cuenca the next day, which turned out to be the day after that, but enough about my lost luggage.


Jessica drove me to my family's house where I met Eulalia (Mama}, Victor (Papa}, Monica {Big Sister}, and Estefania {Younger Sister}.  I immediately felt lucky to have such a warm and welcoming family.  Mama is adorable and already calls me "hija" {daughter}.  Victor is the spitting image of a latino Dustin Hoffman {I haven't had a chance to take his picture yet, but I promise to include one in my next post}.  Monica and Estefania both speak a little English, so they have the great pleasure of acting as my translators when I can't get a word out. 

This is a picture of my family's house in Cuenca.

My first day with the family was full of surprises {mostly because I only understood about 40% of what they were telling me}.  Upon arrival, I wanted to send out a few emails, so I told my family that I was going across the street to the internet cafe.  About 15 minutes later, I looked out the window and saw them all sitting in the car, apparently waiting for something {or someone}.  I quickly realized that I was the one they were waiting for, so I got up and ran out to the car, apologizing profusely for my tardiness.  I heard one of the sisters say something about "pan" {bread}, so I assumed we were going to the supermarket and that they wanted to show me around town.  I was right, sort of, we did go to the supermarket but I was told to wait in the car. Monica returned with a loaf of bread and we sped off to destinations unknown.  Surprise #1!  We are at grandma and grandpa's house for lunch!  That's right, I was invited to a 3-generation mid-day gathering, which I'm sure they told me about, but I couldn't understand.  Victor senior {grandpa} is, seriously, the cutest old man I've ever met.  He kept talking really slow to me, like an infant, to make sure I understood what he was saying.  I wanted to give him a big hug as were leaving but I restrained myself. 

Surprise #2!  Into the car and back to the house {or so I think}.  Nope, wrong, we are in the car driving off into the suburbs of Cuenca.  Why?  I don't know.  Perhaps another quick tour...

Nope, wrong again.  We arrive at a row of houses, which, for Ecuador standards, are mansions with 8-foot high walls and barbed wires.  We are now at Victor's sister and brother-in-laws' house.  I heard Victor mention something about a brother who works in Afghanistan for the American Embassy...apparently they were bringing me to meet him.  James, the brother-in-law is an American who came down to Ecuador 30 years ago to join the Peace Corps and never returned to the states.  Apparently, he spends about 20 days per year in Ecuador with his wife and son and the rest of the time working for some super secret branch of the State Department.  I couldn't really get a read on James.  He never seemed to make eye contact with anyone and was very shifty...I guess that's what living and working in a war zone does to a person.

Surprise #3....Later that night we returned to the house where I met Christa...the OTHER American girl living at the house.  Again, I'm sure this was explained to me earlier in the day, but I was definitely startled to see a tall blond girl walk by my room as I was preparing to go to bed.  Christa is from Maryland and is studying here at another school.  Her Spanish is way better than mine, which, at first, gave me a bit of an inferiority complex, but I'm over it now.

I just finished my third day of Spanish classes here at Simon Bolivar.  My lessons are going well and I like my teacher, Monica {different Monica} a lot.  This afternoon I am meeting up with my former boss' cousin, Paul, who lives here in Cuenca.  It will be nice to go out and have a drink with someone and see some parts of Cuenca that I haven't been to yet. 


Cuence is beautiful, a bit more grimey than the pictures on the internet suggest, but it gives the city a certain charm.  On Tuesday afternoon, I walked through some of the historic district and had my first beer at a lovely bar near one of the city's rivers.  I haven't done as much exploring as I would like, but I'm sure that will change.

Crazy Story of the Week- On the way to school this morning, Christa told me the most bizarre story.  There is an old school under rennovation about two blocks from Simon Bolivar, which used to be a Catholic school for orphans.  Apparently, when construction workers began excavating the site, they found a bunch of small skeletons buried in the dirt foundation.  After some investigating, the city now believes that they are the remains of orphans that the nuns secretly buried after inadvertently killing them.  CRAZY!

Side note- It takes about 5 minutes to upload a single photo on this computer, so I will post pictures over the next few days.  Stay tuned for more stories...