Fiesta del Yamor

Yesterday, my wonderful host mom invited me to join her and my host dad on a short trip to the neighboring city of Otavalo. I'd been there a few times before to check out their amazing market, but last night was the opening parade for Fiesta del Yamor or, the Festival of Yamor. It's a two week long festival of thanksgiving that is celebrated in Otavalo every year at harvest time.

The parade was a vibrant mix of bands, floats, clowns, and dancers and showcased the different indigenous cultures of the Sierra. There were also dance groups from other parts of South America, including Bolivia and Colombia. Seeing as there was a never-ending display of music, dancing, and colorful costumes, I was absolutely enthralled for the two hours we were there.

Unfortunately, my body had other plans and we had to leave before the parade ended. I was, however, able to get quite a bit of footage of the parade on my camera (before my battery died AND my memory card ran out of space--my camera was conspiring against me too).

I had a front row seat (being the edge of the sidewalk) so I was able get some great shots. In the video, you'll get to see firsthand some of the amazing indigenous culture here in Ecuador which I haven't been able to feature much of on my blog. Enjoy!

(Apologies for the streaks in the video. My lens needs to be cleaned.)

Oh Ecuador! Oh Ecuador... Part 2

If you recall, I promised that I would update my list of Ecuadorian pros and cons as my year progressed. Seeing as I just recently passed the sixth month mark of my time here, I felt that an update was in order. So without further ado, Part 2...

Oh Ecuador...
- I appreciate the warmth and closeness of the Ecuadorian people. But, no, I do not want you to be so close to me in the grocery store line that your boob is grazing my elbow. I'm sorry. I'm not okay with that.
- I understand that this next one is something born out of necessity and not recklessness, but it bothers me just the same. I can't tell you how many times I've seen a mom, dad and their infant child squeezed between them riding full speed on a motorcycle. I know it saves on gas and a lot of people can't afford cars but still...it gives me a minor panic attack each time.
- The slow pace of life. Sometimes you just want things to get done right now.
- If I am out on the sidewalk walking, it means I am going somewhere. And that I would like to get there relatively quickly. I realize my legs are longer than entire people here, but if you could just move to one side of the sidewalk and not walk directly in the middle arm in arm with six of your besties, it would be greatly appreciated.
- When Ecuadorians ask you to go and run an errand with them, one errand, know that you will most likely be gone for the rest of the day. Or at least a solid five hours.
- We've established that germs don't exist in Ecuador. But it still makes me a bit squeamish when the same cup that eight other people have just drank out of is passed to me and I'm expected to drink up and pass it on.
- Buses. (If you've been keeping up with this blog, you know why.)

Oh Ecuador!
- Ecuadorians do not waste food. All you need to do is watch them eat a chicken leg and you'll understand what I mean.
- The slow pace of life. Yes, it's okay to spend the whole day in your PJs lounging around the house watching TV and knitting. No one will judge you or tell you to get your life together. In fact, they'll probably join you.
- That moment when the clouds part and the skies clear and you can see the very tops of all the volcanoes and mountains and you realize yet again just how incredibly majestic they are.
- Eating with your fingers! That's right. There's no shame here. Who needs a knife when God gave you ten fully functioning fingers. You go right ahead and dig in, girl!
- Things are cheap here--five bucks will get you a long way. Unfortunately, this is going to lead to some major reverse culture shock when I return home. "$3.00 for a hamburger! What?!? I can get a soup, main dish, dessert, and a freshly squeezed juice for $2.50!"
- As a minority from the midwest, I'm used to being the only brown face in the crowd. But here in Ibarra, thanks to the mix of Ecuas and Afro-Ecuas, I blend right in. Being dark-haired and brown-skinned is the norm not the exception here. And I like it.

Okay, I think that just about covers it.

I might do one more installment in December at the conclusion of my time here. We'll see if anything new crops up between now and then.

Until then, stay tuned and if you haven't already, sign up for email updates to my blog. Just enter your email address in the upper right hand corner and new blog posts will automatically be sent to your inbox. No need to keep checking back every few days (I know you all do!). :)

First trip to the coast

(Apologies again for the delay in getting this post up. Just to clarify, this trip happened before "Porto-ma-cuenca.")

As much as I love the mountains and the outstanding volcano in my backyard, after almost six months in the sierra, I was ready for a glimpse of the ocean.

I had been tentatively planning a trip to the coast for weeks but still hadn’t made any concrete plans when my host mom invited me on a family vacation to Esmeraldas. Apparently a huge group of family and friends had booked a tour and were planning to spend a weekend at the beach. Problem solved.

To make the most of our weekend and to be sure that those who had to work would be back by Sunday night, we left at 1am on Saturday. I didn't have the most comfortable seat and there was nothing to see out the windows, so I did my best to sleep for as much of the 7 hour ride as possible. Unfortunately, sleeping became increasingly difficult as the hours passed and our little bus was transformed into a mini-sauna. Lots of hot bodies and heavy snoring will do this. The middle-aged women on the bus (who happened to be in the majority and all sitting next to the windows) refused to open their windows because the "night air would make us sick." But as I sat there sweating off the last of my water weight and fantasizing about iced coffee, I decided I would have gladly braved pneumonia for a whiff of fresh air

We arrived at our hostal, Cabanas Caribe, around 8am (and several pounds lighter). Things couldn't have proceeded, though, without the requisite Ecua-chaos and so we spent the first half hour getting things situated with the rooms. Apparently, the hotel had planned for us to double up on beds and no one was having that. My host mom took charge and haggled the hotel owner into submission and after a delicious breakfast and chance to change into swimsuits, we were off to the beach.

The street outside of our hostal

We spent the morning at Tonsupa. It was a gorgeous beach complete with great waves and a host of cute cabanas serving cool drinks, seafood, fruit, and ice cream. There were also an insane amount of vendors selling beer, hats, flotation devices, handcrafted jewelry, etc. If it could be sold, it was for sale.

Tonsupa

I wasn't up for swimming, but I did make a heroic effort at trying to get a tan. It's tricky with the Ecuadorian sun. It's strong so it would be foolish to go without sunscreen, but in order to properly protect yourself you need a sunscreen with a high SPF which means, no tan. I do think I ended up with a "glow" regardless.

After the beach, it was back to the hotel for lunch and a quick siesta and then off to another beach, Same (pronounced SAH-may). The sun had decided to take a siesta of its own by this point and the wind had picked up, so we stayed out of the water and stuck to sightseeing. I didn't like Same as much as Tonsupa, but it did have a great lookout with a view.

That night we headed back to Tonsupa to check out the nightlife. The beach was ten times as crowded as it had been during the day and we actually had to wait in traffic to get to the beach. Everyone and their mother was out dancing, eating, and shopping at the little boutiques along the boardwalk. The older people in our group stayed and chatted for about an hour and then left us young ones to dance the night away.

We had another early start on Sunday and after a debate about which beach to go to, half of the group decided to go to Atacames and the other half (my group) went to Sua (pronounced SOO-uh). As with Same, I didn't like Sua half as much as I did Tonsupa. There wasn't much sand and the sand that was there was wet and packed from the tide coming in. Also, the sun was still AWOL which made the whole morning a bit gloomy. The great thing about Sua though was that the water was warm and due to it's location there are little to no waves. (Don't get me wrong, I love wave-jumping as much as the next person, but sometimes it's nice to splash around without being knocked over the head by a giant wave.) It was very much like being in a ridiculously large swimming pool.

For lunch, we met up with the other group at Atacames. Out of all the beaches, Atacames is undoubtedly the most tourist-y with lots of foreigners and places to spend your money. Since we had a bit of downtime before the restaurant opened, we checked out the local artisan market and I wound up with a henna tattoo.

My henna tattoo of a Kanji symbol meaning "truth"

Lunch was more delicious seafood (I got shrimp) and since I finished early I thought I'd swing by the market one more time to check on a pair of earrings. I finally found what I was looking for and returned to the restaurant to meet up with the rest of the group. Not a soul was there by the time I arrived. I frantically called my sister and she told me that everyone was already on the bus and they were leaving. Well, we all know my luck with buses here in Ecuador is non-existent, so I hightailed it through the crowded sidewalks as fast as I could. Thankfully, Fernanda had made it clear to the driver that one was missing so I was NOT left behind this time.

By the time we arrived back at the hostal, it was time to pack up and say our farewells to Esmeraldas. We had a 7 hour trip ahead of us and people who needed to be in bed for work the following day.

My sister, Fernanda, and I on the bus home

The trip back was decidedly more pleasant than the one going. I had a window seat and plenty of daylight to take in the passing countryside.

View from the bus

I think the thing that struck me the most about the coast was the poverty. Ecuador is a third world country so there's poverty everywhere. You can't escape it. But somehow the poverty on the coast was more pronounced. The dirt roads, the dust, the shanty towns with rows upon rows of huts with bamboo walls and corrugated metal roofs, the barefoot, shirtless children aimlessly wandering about in the heat, the lack of anything new (buildings or otherwise)...I guess I just sometimes forget living in my quaint little neighborhood in Ibarra.

It's easy to forgot when I can walk out of my house with its Wi-Fi and cable and indoor plumbing onto a clean, cobble stone street and walk down the main avenue with it's cafes and supermarkets and beautifully landscaped parks. It's easy to forget that the majority of this country does not live this way. I guess my trip to the coast jarred me back to reality.

It hit me even harder when three little boys with buckets of sugar cane hopped on our bus about three hours into our trip. It's customary here in Ecuador for bus drivers to allow vendors on the buses to sell their wares (usually food) to the passengers. At first it really bothered me (and sometimes it still does) but it can be quite convenient to purchase a delicious, piping hot empanada for 20 cents from the comfort of your seat. The boys made their rounds and it quickly became clear that none of us were interested in making a purchase. The boys moved back to the front of the bus as though to exit, but instead they began to cause a scene and demand that somebody buy something. Perhaps they were just being mischievous or perhaps they'd had a slow day and needed something in their hand to take home to their parents (if they even had parents), who knows. But either way they refused to get off the bus. They were literally hanging onto the the door frame to keep from leaving. It finally took several grown men and a lot of shouting to physically push them off the bus so that we could continue.

Once they left, the bus settled back into normalcy and no one seemed to be bothered by the ordeal. I, on the other hand, was fairly shaken up. Again, I don't know the reason for their obstinacy, but I couldn't help but think that, for them, it was worth risking getting physically thrown off a bus then to go home with a full bucket and empty pockets.

The sun sets early here and by 7pm it was dark outside my window. We were back in the mountains at this point and the straight, flat roads of the coast had again turned into the windy, cliff-hugging pathways of the sierra. A thick fog began to roll in and I could see the lights of the bus reflecting off the wet pavement.

Suddenly all of the warnings the WorldTeach directors had given us about night buses flashed into my mind. They had been very explicit about their stand against taking night buses during orientation and in fact had each of us had had to sign a waiver saying that we would only take night buses at our own risk and that we had been properly warned of all the dangers which could befall us. At the moment, all of those dangers seemed imminent. I mean just how well could the driver see through the pea soup we were driving in? And we all knew guardrails were a luxury and not a necessity. I tried my best to focus on the movie (which happened to be The Impossible and all about the Thailand tsunami and people dying and being battered to bits) and not think about what I should try and hold on to in the event of a tumble down the mountain.

The fog didn't last long, thankfully, and just as my heart rate was nearing normal, we came across a roadblock being manned by a couple of soldiers. There, again, were the WorldTeach directors in my head, telling me how bandits would set up fake roadblocks in order to get buses to stop and then rape and pillage those on the bus. I stared anxiously out the window straining to overhear the conversation between the driver and soldiers and trying to remember where I had put my passport. A moment later, the soldiers waved us through and I mentally kicked myself for being so paranoid.

We arrived home in Ibarra safe and sound at 10pm. I was afraid that we would have to do the whole Ecua-thing and hug and air kiss everyone goodnight. Seeing as there was 25+ people on board it would've taken a solid ten minutes, I'm sure. I hovered by the door of the bus with my bags subtly watching my host family to see what they were going to do and, apparently, they felt the same way. A brief wave and shouted "good nights" and we went our way and they went theirs.

My first coastal experience was a mixed one. As always, the astonishing natural beauty of Ecuador left me breathless and amazed that so much diversity could be jam-packed into such a little place. But the stark contrast between that and the indigence of so many of its people left me feeling slightly off-balance. How could I sit around on a pristine beach eating mango while just yards away barefoot kids were hawking coconut water just to make a few cents?

It reminded me of the post I wrote a few months ago about coming across the dead dog on my way to Guayabillas. We have a responsibility to open our eyes to the reality of the world around us and sometimes we won't like the image looking back at us. But instead of closing our eyes or shifting our gaze, we have a decision to make--are we going to do anything to try and change that picture?

Pictures!

Porto-ma-cuenca!

It was a bit of trial putting this blog post together. We all know my superfluous tendiences and trying to succintly sum up a nine day vacation to four different cities was not easy. But I tried. There's plenty I left out so, as always, if there's anything specific you'd like to ask questions about, just leave me a comment.

Okay, so the long-awaited "tour" of Ecuador has finally happened. I seized the day (or week rather) and decided to use some of my downtime to see the other volunteers and get a glimpse of the Ecuador outside of Imbabura.

I tried to be as logical as possible about my travel route and wanted to spend as little time on buses as possible, so my first stop was Portoviejo. I figured I could start there, swing by Machala, come right back up through Cuenca and then home to Ibarra. (see map below)

Well, the plan to “spend as little time on buses as possible” immediately went out the window as I spent a total of 13 hours on three different buses just to get from Ibarra to Portoviejo. Seeing as Ecuador is about the size of Colorado, I’m not entirely sure why it took 13 hours. I’m guessing it had something to do with the fact that we stopped every 30 minutes to allow people on and off the bus and the fact that the insanely windy roads meant that if we went over 50 MPH we would have tumbled off the side of a cliff and that we had to wait while the driver stopped at a small roadside café and sat down to a full course dinner. Just saying. So, after leaving my house at 6:30 that morning, I was greeted in Portoviejo at 9:00 that night by the smiling faces of my two fellow volunteers, Dani and Tommy. Having survived on empanadas and granola bars for the last 13 hours the only thing I wanted to do was eat. Thankfully, Dani and Tommy knew the perfect little sandwich shop... and so began my Portoviejo experience.

The following day Dani, Tommy, their respective beaus, one of Tommy’s friends, and I all headed to Manta to visit La Playa de Murcielago (literally, Bat Beach). The weather seemed to disagree with our plans as a thick cloud cover followed us all the way from Portoviejo to the beach. In spite of the clouds, though, the weather was warm and by the afternoon the sun even made a brief appearance. We did the beach thing: laid out in the “sun,” played a quick game of volleyball, waded in the waves, and ate delicious seafood. As much as I love the mountains, there will always be a place in my heart for the ocean.

Sunday was a bit of a chill day. We checked out the shopping mall in Portoviejo (appropriately named “Shopping”) and ate lunch in the food court. We don’t have a proper mall here in Ibarra so it was like stepping into a little piece of America for a moment. After lunch, Dani and I spent the afternoon at Parque Forrestal, a beautiful park complete with a lake, playgrounds, and ice cream vendors. Oh, and giant lizards.

It's a bit fuzzy, but that is one (of several!) wild lizards that were roaming about the park

Portoviejo doesn’t have much in the way of greenery, so it was nice to be amidst a bit of nature for awhile. The only downside to the whole experience was that the cab driver who took us back into the city tried to give us the “gringa” price and upped the price a whole dollar. Thankfully, Dani’s Spanish is much better than mine and she managed to force him back down to $2. (I know you’re all sitting there shaking your heads and thinking, “it’s just a dollar,” but it’s the principle!)

Monday morning it was back on the bus. This time to Guayaquil and then on to Machala. The terminal at Guayaquil is enormous and I literally had to ask for directions to find the correct bus line to purchase my ticket. It was just like being at an international airport, complete with a McDonalds.

The one thing I remember about the bus trip to Machala is the banana plantations. They literally went on for miles. At one point in the trip we spent almost a solid twenty minutes surrounded on both sides by nothing but thousands of banana trees.

Just like in Portoviejo, the Machala volunteers met me at the bus terminal and we spent the evening catching up. The next day was more of the same, lots of eating and talking. Apparently, eating is THE pasttime for the Machala volunteers. And they've got a pretty decent selection in Machala. It's much larger than Ibarra so there were significantly more options. And traffic. Outside of Quito, I don't think I've seen traffic since I've been here.

That evening I visited one of the local institutes to watch another volunteer, Katelyn, teach her evening class. I always enjoy observing other teachers at work--I love how each person's personality expresses itself through their teaching style.

The day was topped off perfectly with my first taste of "papipollo." I'd been hearing rave reviews of this particular food from the Machala volunteers since our mid-service conference so I was excited to try it for myself. It's basically French fries slathered in ketchup, mayo, mayo verde and a sizeable piece of fried chicken. Seeing as I'm a confirmed French fry addict, there was nothing not to love.

Yes, it looks like a fried, greasy mess. But it tastes like heaven.

The weather still wasn't cooperating and I didn't see much of the sun during my two days in Machala. However, that didn't keep us from getting out to visit "The Port" on Wednesday, an area of the city located along the water. I got to indulge my seafood addiction again, this time with a dish called, sudado. It was more or less a seafood stew made with shrimp and mussels.

Boats at "The Port"

After lunch Elizabeth and I wandered through the one of the local markets which sold everything from puppies to fresh fish. It was crowded and dirty and smelly and completely unhygienic. My little gringa stomach immediately started roiling as I looked at the slabs of warm, uncovered meat for sale. (It didn't however keep me from purchasing a piece of dragonfruit to sample.)

Elizabeth had to teach that night, so I stayed in and joined in on the WorldTeach webinar that was being hosted for the new volunteers arriving in September. It hadn't really hit me until then that I'm halfway through my year here. Somewhere in the last six months, I've become the (somewhat) confident volunteer who can share my experiences with the wide-eyed and terrified newbies. Some days it seems like just yesterday that I was clinging sweaty-palmed to my conference chair wondering how on earth I was going to make it through the year without being robbed or express kidnapped.

Thursday morning I was on yet another bus, this time to Cuenca. At only four hours, it was my shortest bus trip so far. In spite of the sun-soaked vistas that accompanied me along the way, by the time I arrived in Cuenca I was greeted with more clouds and rain. It was also freezing. So after a disappointing Mexican lunch at a restaurant near my hostal, I decided to stay in for the evening and make good use of the free internet. I also spent the time getting to know my roommate who was from Holland and was backpacking around South America. (One of the terrific things about hostals: the awesome people you get to meet!)

Katelyn met me in Cuenca the next morning and seeing as there was sunshine (finally!), we decided the best way to spend the day would be to take a walking tour of the city. I’m still not sure how a city like Cuenca came to be in Ecuador. Ecuadorians themselves will admit that Cuenca is unlike any other city here. It’s like you’ve stepped out of Ecuador and been transported to some quaint European town thousands of miles away. The architecture and landscaping is absolutely beautiful. Cuenca is certainly a city made for leisurely wandering--which is exactly what we did for eight hours. I don’t think there was a minute when my camera wasn’t out. I love to take pictures of churches and there seemed to be one on every street corner.

Cuenca is also a city chock full of gringos. Apparently the European flair is a huge draw for retired Americans who want to live well for cheap.

The next morning, after a delicious breakfast at the hostal and a precious few more hours chatting with the Machala girls, it was time to begin the first leg of my journey home. The distance from Cuenca to Ibarra in a bus is about twelve hours. And after the grueling trip from Ibarra to Portoviejo, I decided splitting it up over two days would be best. I booked a hotel room in Ambato (seven hours from Cuenca) and would then complete the next five hours to Ibarra the following day. If only things ever went as planned...

(Excerpt taken from an FB message sent to the Machala girls after arriving in Ambato)

Sunday, August 18, 9:28am

Okay, so getting to Ambato yesterday proved to be way more difficult than it should've been. It started off bad enough since I was headed to Ambato but had no idea where to get off since we weren't going to the terminal. And then I started to get a little bus sick along the way (which never happens!). But anyways by the time I had reached Riobamba I was starving and really had to go to the bathroom. I didn't get off the bus once when I was headed to Portoviejo because I was afraid the bus would leave me. But this time the bus stopped at a gas station and nearly everyone got off so I knew I would be okay.

I went to the bathroom and since there was still a long line of women after me I figured I had time to buy a quick snack in the convenience store. The woman in line in front of me was from the bus too so I knew I was still okay on time. I paid for my stuff and I walked to the door  just in time to see the bus pulling out of the station onto the highway. It was like something out of a horrible nightmare. I immediately ran after it wildly waving my arms but it was already pulling onto the highway and I knew it wasn't going to stop. There aren't words to express how sick and terrified I felt! Somehow my stomach managed to have lodged in my throat and dropped to my feet at the same time. There I was, stranded in the middle of nowhere at a gas station and both of my bags were still on the bus!! There were several Ecuas at the station and they all just stared at me as I dazedly walked back to the convenience store.

Of course I immediately called Lee on the brink of a nervous breakdown. I seriously thought I was going to lose it right at that gas station. I could barely hold the phone i was shaking so much. Lee offered to call the bus station and see if she could get them to hold my bags at one of their offices in either Ambato or Quito and I asked the owners of the station if they could call me a cab to get back to Riobamba.

By the time I got to the bus station in Riobamba, Lee had called to tell me that the bus was going to leave my bags in Quito at their office. So I hopped on a direct bus to Quito. I wasn't going to get there until close to midnight and had no idea where I was going to stay or what I was going to do, but I didn't want to risk losing my bags.

Well, about five minutes into my trip, Lee calls to tell me that no actually my bags have been left in Ambato and I shouldn't go to Quito. I'm on a direct bus to Quito at this point, mind you. So Lee's like, give the phone to the drivers assistant and I'll explain that you need to get off in Ambato. Well, he refused to take the phone from me and talk to her. So I told Lee I'd try to work it out myself. When he came around to check my ticket I tried to explain my situation. Spanish is tricky enough as it is, but when you're near-hysterical, trying to make yourself understood is basically impossible. It didn't help that he was unfriendly either, but he did agree to let me off in Ambato. The only problem was that it was dark and I had no idea when we would arrive there and I wasn't sure if he would let me know once we had.

So I spent a long anxious hour peering out the foggy window hoping by some magical intuition I would know where we were. I finally asked the guy next to me if he could just let me know when we arrived. However, it turned out the driver's assistant announced the stop and even showed me where to get a taxi.

Lee had told me that my bags were waiting at the main bus terminal for me. But I saw a small Express Sucre (that was the bus company I was traveling with) office directly across the street from where the bus had let me off. On a hunch i decided to check for my bags there before heading all the way over to the terminal. And sure enough there they were! I almost broke down all over again out of sheer happiness. Lol

From there I hailed a taxi to my hotel and thankfully the rest of the night went smoothly after that...

So, yes, apparently I have a knack for getting left in random places by buses. Not good when you live in a country where that's the main source of transportation.

Thankfully, the bus ride to Ibarra the next morning was uneventful and I arrived home around 5:00pm on Sunday night. 

Aside from my traumatic bus incident to cap off my vacation, I thoroughly enjoyed getting out to see more of my temporary homeland. Ecuador is a beautiful country with incredible natural diversity. From the sierra to the coast and back again, I passed through golden wheat fields, towering volcanoes, dusty, sage-brush strewn hills, and the ever-undulating coastline. Somehow within this little, Colorado-sized country, God managed to squeeze in just about everything.

Click here to check out pictures from the trip!

(I realize I still haven't put up a blog post for my trip to Esmeraldas, but it should be posted soon. My internet connection here at the house has been on the fritz so I've been blogging in spurts. But it is coming!)