La Gringa Desempleada: 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.