Latin American Adventures

Ecuador...to be continued.

2005-12-05T16:04:00.000-05:00

Whoa...it just hit me. In a little more than twelve hours, I will be at the Quito airport preparing to fly to the States.

When I reflect on the past five plus months, my mind spins around the myriad memories and emotions. From my first days on a bus crossing the Peruvian coastal desert to Ecuador...terrified because I did not speak any Spanish to the first few weeks in the beautiful colonial town, Cuenca, where I stayed with my host family and took classes each day, while forging life long friendships with Rich, Jenny and Maura.

Then, on to Tena, where I met River People and my time in Ecuador changed in a fantastically drastic way. Here, I was exposed to the wonders of the jungle, including its countless rivers by the Dent Family. They have been a grounding force for me during the rest of my months in this foreign country and will undoubtedly be part of my extended family for a long time to come.

And then there is my months in Quito, a city I have held a love, hate relationship with every since arriving. From working at Gulliver Travel, which give me insight into the various types of travelers from around the world, to living with Jared in our apartment in the less than safe part of town, I have learned much during my time in the worlds second highest capital.

This experience has been one of the most challenging of my life. And from those challenges and the subsequent lessons learned, I have been given many blessings. Even though I was the one physically here, I am also keenly aware of the sacrifices each of you, my family and friends at home, have made in order to make this dream a reality. There is no possible way I would have made it this long or have been as richly rewarded by so many experiences had it not been for the constant, unwavering support of everyone at home. From emails, letters and phone calls, I have been held afloat even at times when it felt like I was drowning in the chaotic, directionless spinning I have often felt here. To each of you, thank you.

I will be back. This departure tomorrow is not final...not even close. As my great friend and travel mentor, Meg Fitzmaurice, once told me. Before leaving home for a distant land, stop at the airport gate, take three deep breaths and tell yourself life will never again be the same. Likewise, when you are ready to head home, stop once again, but this time when you take the three deep breaths, tell yourself you will be back. In the Denver airport on June 30th, I did the first. Now, tomorrow, at the Quito airport, I will follow up with the second exercise.

With this thought, I will sign off for now. This adventure is coming to a close. I hope each of you has enjoyed these posts as much as I have enjoyed sharing them. Stay tuned, the next blog site will probably be named...

Hasta pronto...with love,

Audie

Leaving Tena

2005-12-03T20:25:00.000-05:00

Last night was absurd. In fact, it was perfectly insane. Bruised and barely able to walk, Alex, Tim and I wandered the streets of Tena groaning with each step. We looked like a group of old men hobbling along with nothing but memories of past adventures to hold on to--and we were savoring each moment.

Around midnight, we decided to go to our favorite jaunt for a celebration of my last night in Tena (for now). We picked up three friends and headed off to the round, thatch-roofed jungle hut situated on the side of the Tena River. When we arrived, the music was pumping and the place was packed with the same locals who come every Friday and Saturday night, as well as the few gringos who sat off to the side, wide-eyed and unsure of how to fit in at the wild Amazon club.

After making the rounds and saying hello to people we know, we took our places upstairs and immediately began telling the requisite stories, jokes, etc. After two hours, the club closed down and we were kicked out to the deserted streets of Tena. The air was cooling off--thick with humidity and full of the constant jungle sounds that either drive you crazy or offer a reassuring comfort.

What to do in Tena at 2:00 am? Go swimming!

Nike, my replacement at Gulliver Travels from Germany, and I headed off to the river through the dense darkness, while the others ventured home--preparing for a long day of class IV rafting. When we plunged into the river, the cool water was instantly refreshing. We swam for a few minutes before being scared by some strange water creatures swimming against our legs. Nike was terrified they were eels--a thought I found hysterical as there are no fresh water eels in the Amazon. However, my mind was still reeling from my recent Anaconda experience and I was torturing myself with thoughts of being dragged under the calm surface by a 30 foot snake. Not a pleasant picture.

We called the swimming off and headed back towards town. While alive during the day, the jungle becomes a mass of moving life at night, which can be quite unsettling. Monkeys screech--birds flutter their wings while calling out to the companions in haunting squawks and small and large creatures scamper through the under brush with lightening speed only leaving a fleeting shadow as evidence.

Around 4:00 am, I laid down to go to sleep and the three following hours passed in a blink of an eye. At 7:00 am, Tim, Alex and I woke from our slumber and headed off to the main house to prepare the rafts for yet another day on the river. I said my good-byes to Alex and Gary and then Tim dropped me off at the bus terminal, so I could catch the first bus of the day back to Quito.

As I sat there and watched the sights scroll by, I felt a mixed bag of emotions. Sad to be leaving my favorite place in Ecuador and arguably one of my top three in the entire world. Relieved to be getting away from the harsh environment for a while to let my body heal. Anxious while wondering when I will be able to return. And, ultimately, very grateful for being given this home away from home. Tena will always be a special place for me as long as I am alive--a place I will return again and again.

The main task on my agenda today was less than appealing. I had to finish the second day of medication for the parasite--a potent concoction of anti-parasitic poison and strong laxative to flush the dead critters out. I thought it would be funny to make the mixture with water instead of the recommended juice or cola, which is supposed to mask the taste. It turns out, this was less than humorous for me, although Jared was in stitches watching me choke down the foul substance, nearly vomiting with each painful swallow. Good stuff!

Already, six hours later, I feel immensely better. With more parasites in the water and food in Ecuador than I care to think about, a massive cleaning is just what the doctor ordered. Most people, myself included before coming here, in the States rarely give thought to the water that comes from the tap or the food placed in front of them. Here, every time I take a drink or eat a bite, I am plagued by the images of the different types of worms and parasites featured on the medicine package. I constantly remind myself that experiences like these are what put adventure in travel.

Well, I am off to finish loading all of the pictures from the rafting expedition trip. I hope you enjoy. Only two more full days in Ecuador for me this time around! Wow!

Hasta pronto,

Audie

Bruised, Exhausted and Perfectly Content.

2005-12-02T18:53:00.000-05:00

Hello from Tena!

I know it has been ages since I last wrote a post and as I sit here and think of ways to begin I only feel my mind spin directionless as I reflect on so many memories from the past few days.

As you probably know from my last e-mail, I just finished four days of rafting on four of Ecuador´s best rivers, which two arguably offer some of the best whitewater in the world. Early Monday morning, Alex (from River People), the private driver and I met the Belgian clients at their hotel. At first, there was significant tension between the group and Alex and I, which undoubtedly was due to main factors 1) Europeans tend to be reserved and distanced at first, waiting to open up until a significant amount of time has passed and 2) there was a large language barrier between us. Only a couple spoke broken English and my brain stalled as I tried to recall any meaningful French. So, in relative silence, we loaded the van with their bags for the trip and headed out of Quito under a crystal clear sky.

The drive from Quito to Baeza, where the Quijos River Run starts, is stunning. It takes nearly an hour to leave the concrete maze of the city behind as you start to climb the eastern most ridge of the high Andes mountains. Monday was the first time I have taken this road when there was not a cloud in the sky and the result was an unexpected surprise for everyone. To the North loomed Cyambe, a snow capped volcano that challenges world class climbers who dare to scale its treacherous flanks. Far South was the familiar and comforting Cotopaxi, which holds the distinction as being the world´s highest snow-capped, active volcano. However impressive and beautiful these two mountains were, both paled in comparison to Antisana directly ahead in our line of sight during the ascent.

I have read and heard about the majestic Antisana for quite some time--well before I even arrived in Ecuador. As the second most difficult mountain in Ecuador, resulting from the vast quantities of hidden crevasses and constantly shifting glacier fields, few people attempt to scale its imposing sides. Nearing the top of the pass, we stopped the van and piled out with cameras in hand. There, impossibly close to our position, was the famed peak. My jaw dropped and I passed the fifteen minutes in awe-commanded silence. Cliche, but for a reason, pictures hardly do Antisana justice. Look it up online and then imagine being within a few miles of this volcano on a clear day... Indescribable.

We dropped into the Chaco valley and prepared ourselves mentally for the day ahead on the same river as the World Rafting Championships a few months ago. The Belgians became more animated as we approached the put-in and peppered Alex and I with logistical questions about the rapids ahead. We both smiled knowingly and happily shared our experiences. It is always a blast for me to listen to either Tim or Alex talk about the Ecuadorian rivers. The two of them hold many of the first descents in Ecuador (literally countless) and have pioneered commercial rafting in this travelers paradise. All of this is even more humbling when I think that Alex is only 25 and Tim is a mere 23. A few years ago, Tim competing in the World Championships for kayaking and took 3rd place overall. Not bad for a kid who learned to boat when he was 14 by borrowing a beat-up kayak and quite seriously threw himself down a class IV river--an experience that almost cost him his life.

The day passed without incident. I will not recount all of the glory here as I have done so in earlier posts on the Quijos River. Let is suffice to say the day was a great warm-up for the expedition trip to come.

In several e-mails the last few weeks I alluded to my fear and uncertainty concerning the three day trip down first the Hollin River, then the Lower Misshaulli River. Since I met the Dent Family and started working for River People, I have heard numerous legendary stories about these two rivers, including the good, the bad and the downright terrifying. While completely different in terms of water volume, style and length, both offer significant challenge to even the most seasoned boaters.

Our group was strong with several guides and only two or three individuals with considerably less experience that the others and I was one of them. The others have spent the last few years trying out some of the world´s best rivers including white water in Asia, Africa, Europe and North America. In their own words, while expecting a good time, they did not even consider the two rivers we were about the embark on as possibly the hardest trip in all of their white-water travels.

Early on the second day, we drove the loaded cars and van, stuffed full of both equipment and eager people to the put-in of the Hollin River. If you look on a map, go to the eastern part of the Andes mountains. Find Tena and then a little town called Archidona to the North of Tena. You will see a small road leading deep into the jungle city Coca. There is a river crossing under this road about 30 minutes from Archidona--this is the Hollin. Our goal was simple: Raft nearly 100 kilometers of solid Class V river complete with over 150 rapids in three days with no possibility of outside support. As you can tell from the map, there are no roads, no settlements, no anything for the entire stretch of the Hollin, then the Lower Missahaulli until it joins the Upper Napo River East of Tena.

After unloading the cars, we performed the first portage of the trip--carrying the equipment over steep, slippery ground through the dense foliage. We emerged at the base of a massive waterfall and began the arduous task of hand-pumping the rafts, glad to be doing something to call our jitters. Within an hour and a half everything was ready. The boats were loaded heavy with equipment, lined with wide-eyed paddlers and nothing but the unknown ahead. We pushed off the rocks and seconds later were paddling furiously to keep the rafts upright as we battled a technically challenging rapid.

My adrenaline level was high--heart pumping, breathing quickly and feeling the excitement of taking on one of the greatest rivers in the country. Three or four rapids down, after everyone was warmed up, we pulled over to the side of the river to scout one of the most awesome rapids on the first day: a class IV, highly technical rapid stretching for nearly 1/3 of a kilometer full of drops, holes and a couple of other surprises through a massive cave situated on a sharp bend of the river. Standing there on a gigantic boulder, all of us looked at each other with hints of fears in every pupil. Simultaneously, we each rhetorically asked ourselves, "We are going to run that?"

Tim had to yell the commands to be heard over the roar of the water echoing in the cavern.

"Right back!"

"Left back!"

"Forward!" "Forward Hard! Let´s go!"

The commands came rapid fire and we responded almost instinctually with the adrenaline honing our senses. As we neared a large drop through what seemed like an impossibly small slot, Time shouted the chilling command, "Hold On!" We ducked our heads, gripped our paddles tight and threw our weight to the middle of the boat as we went near vertical in the air--dropping into the surging water below. The force of the boat slamming into the water sent a shock wave through each of us and when we peaked our heads up and saw we had made it through the rapid, we let out a group cry declaring victory. It was one of the first of many fierce bonding moments during the trip.

The rest of the day was filled with more hair-raising moments--more than I could possible write about here. It ended with us setting up camp on a slim beach before yet another portage rapid (one that is simply too difficult to run--we had four portages the second day alone). That night, we prepared spaghetti, drank coffee and filled the air with both laughter and stories recounting the day´s adventures. Exhausted, wet and stuck in the middle of a deep gorge miles and miles away from any other humans. I slept under a large tarp with the Dent family and two of the other guides, Victor and Valancio, who work for River People.

During the middle of the night, each of us woke several times to check on the river level. When it rains in the jungle, it rains harder than anything you can imagine. The river can raise over 20 feet in a couple of hours as the water is compressed in the narrow gorge. It started to pour around 4 in the morning and the level rose quickly causing alarm we might lose the rafts and have to abandon camp in order to make it to high ground. Fortunately, it never reached that point and by dawn the level had returned to normal. During one of these frequent checks, Gary turned on the flashlight. As he did so, Tim shouted, "Turn it off! Turn it off! There is a Flying Snake!"

In my sleep deprived state I murmured to myself, "Flying Snake?" What was he talking about? I pestered him half-heartily with a few questions, but received silence in response, so I dropped the subject.

The next morning, we took another hour and a half to complete the difficult portage after breakfast. This time it involved hoisting the rafts and equipment up and over a staggeringly large boulder that measured 30 feet at its height and 50 feet at its width. It sported a flat top, slanted sharply and was covered with slippery moss and tiny flowers that tried to cast any passing paddlers into the boiling water below.

About twenty minutes after the successful put in, I asked Tim again what the "Flying Snake" was we saw flying under the tarp last night. He paused before answering, as if to think of a calm way to describe the pest.

"It is a type of bug that has wings like a giant moth and a head that looks like a snake. There is a large, red needle like object coming out of its chest and if it stings you--you will die."

"Are you joking?"

"No," was the firm reply.

"How long does it take to kill you," I cautiously asked?

"I don´t know exactly, but the locals swear the only cure is to have sex with someone immediately to try and spread the poison. If not....well," he made an exaggerated face suggesting death. With fifteen men on the trip and no women, I quickly reflected on what would have happened if one of us had been stung. Either way, I mused, not a happy prospect.

Halfway during the day, we pulled over to take in the sights of a stunning waterfall. I have seen many pictures taken of this waterfall before and was in disbelief that I was standing at its very base. Several of us began a scramble closer and when we arrived, after wading through deep pools, climbing smaller waterfalls and clawing our way over rocks, two of us got the bright idea we should climb the large one and see what was on top. Brilliant, Audie. Absolutely brilliant.

This waterfall does not drop straight down. Rather, it is a very wide watershed that is angled close to 30 degrees. Near the edge, the other paddler started climbing. He is considerably taller and lankier than me and he struggled greatly to proceed of the slippery, moss and mud covered wall. I should have taken this as a sign, but instead stubbornly stepped up to the task when we finally summitted. The handholds were scarce and the distance between each foot hold was intimidated. Still, I tried to work my way upwards. A few minutes and about 10 feet higher, I began to panic. It seemed impossible given the circumstances. My legs and arms were to short to utilize the same holds as the first climber and the conditions of the rocks were less than desirable. I felt myself starting to slip and fiercely held my body to the wall. When I stabilized myself, I reached with my right hand higher and in that moment felt my entire grip fail.

Almost instinctually, I pushed myself as hard as I could away from the wall as I fell, hoping to land in the deep pool below. My efforts paid off as I plunged nearly upside-down into the pool. The only complication was my elbow hit a rock sticking out of the water, sending a wave of pain through my body. I swam across the pool and collected myself on the other side. My elbow seemed intact and I breathed a sigh of relief knowing my arm was not broken. Even today, three days later, it is quite bruised, but thankfully nothing more.

When I reached the rafts, I noticed a sharp pain in my toe. Upon further inspection I realized one of my toenails had almost been ripped completely off, clear until the cuticle. Lodged under the nail was a piece of wood that applied pressure on the nerves below. Victor, who is also a professional medic as well as guide, was amazing as he used a needle to clean out the foreign material during the next 30 minutes. I grit my teeth through the entire ordeal and closed my eyes trying not to reveal the pain as he dug everything out, sometimes accidentally hitting a nerve. We taped the nail in place and set off for nearly 30 more kilometers of Class IV rafting that day.

We camped on a perfect, lazy beach next the river that night. After everyone had gone to bed, Tim, Alex and I stayed up and finished one of the bottles of rum while telling ridiculous quantities of Stupid Irish jokes (the Dent family is originally from Ireland). At one point during my stupor, I mentioned I would like to wrestle an Anaconda--a snake that holds the distinction of being the world´s largest snake, some growing more than 10 metres in length! A few minutes later, we heard a noise behind us and tilted our heads backwards, over the log to see Victor holding a baby Anaconda! I flipped out terrified and literally jumped backwards. There it was! Tim, Alex and Victor thought this was hilarious, especially in light of my previous remarks. Not more than two or three feet long, the baby Anaconda was hardly a threat and yet I wanted nothing to do with it--especially concerning a wrestling match.

The laughter finally calmed and as Victor disappeared to sleep under the tarp, the jokes resumed. Then, no more than a half an hour later, Tim jolted upright and let out a shrill scream. "There´s something on my leg!"

I turned on the flashlight and revealed a frog sitting perfectly still where he was just laying down. Now it was my turn to laugh hysterically, much to the chagrin of Tim. "But it could be poisonous," he proclaimed, which only caused me to laugh harder. "Maybe," I responded, "maybe."

The fourth and final day nearly began in complete disaster. It started raining once again around 5 in the morning and all the guides and I woke up and began preparing camp, trying to distract ourselves from the misery. I went up to a bathroom (we were staying on a beach at the base of rustic, jungle cabins) to wash an armload of dishes from the night before. As I finished, I began to walk down the hastily-constructed, concrete steps back to the tarp. On the third step, my foot hit a pile of slimy moss that had fallen from the trees above during the storm and both of my feet went out from me.

The first thing to hit was the back of my head followed by the lower back and then leg and right elbow at the same time. Everything went completely black for a few seconds and when I was able to sit up, Valancio was already standing over me asking if I was okay. Victor, Gary, Alex and Tim all heard the fall, which they described in gory detail later and came running. I couldn´t move or think for a few minutes and so I just sat there in the pouring rain holding the back of my head, which throbbed more than I can possibly describe.

Once again, I was very fortunate. There was only a small laceration and despite a massive headache lasting two days and a concussion, which made me feel like vomiting throughout the day, no major effects.

The fourth day was simply incredible. We floated the Lower Miss and I was in heaven. Huge, HUGE rapids through the compressed canyon complete with enormous drops and surging water from four rivers, including the Hollin, all coming together forming the headwaters of the mighty Amazon River. Near noon, we had to complete a nearly 4 hour portage that was absolutely hair-rising. All of the rafts had to be deflated and we hoisted all of the equipment along side of a cliff edge with a series of two thundering waterfalls below. One part of the portage involved going into the jungle foliage for nearly an hour an a half and it will suffice to say the jungle holds more secrets than could possibly be known.

I saw bugs that looked straight from a story-book. I was bitten over 200 times by these vicious flies that left large, painful welts with a bloody center causing considerable discomfort persisting today. Spiders with tiny bodies, but legs over eight inches long scampered next to my hands as I fought the steep slopes for holds. As one point, I looked up and saw a spider quickly descending towards my face. I blew as hard as I could and changed its course, causing it to land on a nearby leaf larger than my entire torso. Colonies of fire ants passed underfoot and strange looking hornet-like creatures buzzed furiously between us.

We finally finished the portage utterly exhausted. I knew there was no way I could do another day of this style rafting. I was at my end. And it felt great.

Last night, after arriving back in Tena, all of us met for dinner ragged, tired and glad to be back in civilization. We celebrated the end of the trip by telling stories and jokes picking fun at everyone. The group declared this was by far the most technically difficult and best rafting trip they have ever done--a tall compliment and testament to the trip.

As we walked around town, my left leg started to swell substantially, pulling the skin taunt and obscuring any visible features, such as my ankle bone. "What the heck?" I wondered out loud. My toes were swollen tightly together and the bruising on top of my feet from four brutal days started to turn purple.

Victor took one look at my leg, performed a quick inspection and declared I had an infection brewing from a combination of open wounds, the bites, etc. I headed home and decided to try and sleep it off, letting my body do the bulk of the healing itself.

When I woke, I felt 100% better. The swelling had gone down to a tolerable point and Alex, Tim and I struck out for some food. As we walked, we must have been a sight. Each of us were limping while moving at a snail´s pace--me from my swollen leg, painful bites and headache, Alex from the broken bones in his foot he sustained two days before during the trip and Tim from various cuts and bruises. We realized the ridiculous of our situation nearly at the same time and just started laughing while supporting each other with out-stretched arms.

For breakfast, Alex and I took anti-parasitic medicine with a banana milk-shake. The powder tasted horrible, but the thought of clearing out the worms I have been wrestling with was more than worth it.

All in all, this has been another life-changing week. I am sad to leave Tena and River People tonight on the 2:00am bus to Quito, but know without a doubt I will be back soon. There are too many river left to explore--jungle to experience--and a group of people here I will always be proud to call family.

Top 10 Things NOT to Do In An Interview

2005-11-19T13:27:00.000-05:00

This week, I designed advertisements seeking a replacement for me in Gulliver Travels. After creating the colorful signs, I placed them around Quito in places mostly frequented by foreigners as we want someone from outside of the country to work here as they generally can relate better to the needs of tourists. Within hours, I started receiving calls and it quickly became apparent this was going to be a very strange process.

You have probably read articles about the horror stories of hiring new employees. Perhaps you have even conducted interviews yourself and have a few tales to tell. Well, here is my "Top 10 Things NOT to Do In An Interview", culled from my experiences thus far this week. Enjoy.

10. Before requesting an interview, be sure to read all of the required qualifications first. The first
      qualification listed on the poster is, "Native English Speaker". My favorite failed interview in
      this regard was with a woman from Turkey. While attractive and obviously intelligent, she
      speaks poor English and absolutely no Spanish. But, her Turkish is AMAZING

9. Do not brag about how many jobs you have quit in the last six months. As impressive as some
    of the numbers may be, Gulliver is not the office for Guinness Book of World Records.

8. Bathe! Enough said.

7. If the position advertised reads as follows, "Adventure Travel Agent", this is not a call for fishing
    guides. MEN, REPEAT AFTER ME: I KNOW I LOVE TO FISH...(repeat quietly to yourself),
    BUT I WILL NOT CALL GULLIVER...(repeat quietly to yourself), AND ASK TO GUIDE FISHING
    TRIPS...(repeat quietly to yourself), WHEN GULLIVER DOES NOT EVEN OFFER FISHING
    TRIPS. (repeat all of this three times, starting quietly and gently building into a crescendo.)

6. Do not wear full camouflage to an interview.

5. When asked, "Where in _____ (insert any country or state here) have you been?" Do not
    respond with, "I´ve been so many places and heard so many names, I don´t even know. A lot."
    This will count as an insufficient answer--especially in a travel agency.

4. Bathe! Again, enough said.

3. When asked to describe yourself, do not start with how many divorces you have had in the past
three years. Instead, talk about your education, work experiences, etc. Much more informative.

2. When your interviewer says, "Thank you, we will be in touch with you shortly after we review
     your resume." Do not stay another 40 minutes pointlessly talking until you are escorted to the
     door. Garrulous people do not earn brownie points.

1. THE GRAND-DADDY OF THEM ALL: Do not pull a gun out during an interview and set in
    one the desk, while claiming you would have no qualms about killing someone if they
    quarrelled with you. This is frightening and not considered to be appropriate social
    etiquette.

No Milk! No Pork! And, no seafood!

2005-11-14T09:31:00.000-05:00

Those were the commands from the doctor early this morning on my second visit to the beautiful VozAndes of Quito Hospital. Overall, the appointments went well. I met with two specialists--one for my ear and the other for the continuing stomach problems. My ear doctor gave me the all clear, much to the delight of both of us. She said my eardrum is still perforated, but should be completely healed within three to four weeks. The inner-ear infection has completely abated and I can go rafting next week with a wax plug in my ear canal! Wooohoo!

The other appointment, with the internal specialist, was less assuring. If only I could have a photo of the look she gave me when I described where I have been in Ecuador the last four plus months and what I have eaten... Simply priceless. This experience only reinforced my previous knowledge that Ecuadorians tend to be extremely loyal to their regions and view other Ecuadorians from elsewhere as lesser. Good stuff.

After my physical examination, she announced my stomach is abnormally large--and not from eating the fantastic hamburger from Adam´s Rib Shack last night while watching the Denver vs. Raiders football game. So, tomorrow, I am finally going in for the six required lab tests now that I am finished taking the medicine for the ear infection. Apparently, the two types of medicine mix less than ideally--an understatement of the century from what I have been told. Back to VozAndes in the morning for the next two days. Could my days begin with more excitement? I think not.

More to come in the next few days. If I get pictures of the little devils, I will be sure to post them online. Hahahaha--or maybe not.

It seems like ages...

2005-11-12T13:35:00.000-05:00

...since I Iast wrote a post. Wow--time flies when you are studying for the GRE, applying to graduate school, talking with potential employers, working 60+ hours a week and trying to fit in some adventure at the same time! Great stuff!

Not much is new on this end of the World. I have been working the last twelve days straight between 10-12 hours a day and then studying 3-5 at night and early in the morning. It seems my life has been reduced to learning new vocabulary, practicing my rusty math and selling vacations to tourists! However, I have nothing to complain about. The 26th will be my last day at work and then it is off to the jungle for a 4 day expedition rafting trip through the jungle! We will navigate Class IV rapids through caves, skirt around a 40 foot waterfall and brave the bugs for an unforgettable adventure. I am planning on stuffing my ear full of wax and then taping a protective cup over the outside to prevent as much water as possible from getting in. On Monday, when I have my next hospital appointment, I will confirm this with the doctor of course.

After the rafting, I am planning on staying in Tena for a few days to say good-bye to the Dent family and to explore some of the other areas of the jungle by foot and kayak. I can hardly contain my excitement. Then, back to Quito before Dec. 6th when I fly back to the States. I go to Miami, then Boston to see Matt Oppenheimer, take the GRE and visit with a friend at Harvard Law then Matt and I are driving to New York City for two days to stay with friends and see the sights. From there, back to Denver to spend Christmas and to visit the University of Denver before heading to Boise on Dec. 29th. Can you believe it?!

Sounds like the same old, same old.... =) Living life to the max.

I have to run and hit the books for my marathon afternoon session. Take care and I will try to be more diligent about posting this next week and two. More photos to come of the beach, mountains, jungle, etc in a few days. Stay tuned!

Israeli stew.

2005-11-08T21:07:00.000-05:00

It may seem strange to many of you, as it did to me at first, but Ecuador is home to a significant number of Israeli nationals, some of whom are living here for years on end and others, just passing through. Not only is my boss, direct manager and most of the other employees at Gulliver and Papagayo from the promised land, but the statistics (none of which I can remember, creating an embarrassing moment for me right now) discerning the number of Israelis in Ecuador are staggering.

Unabashedly, I admit I was less than impressed with our friends from, arguably, one of the United Sates strongest ally country. (Brace yourself for gross generalizations.) They seemed loud, obnoxious, miserly, recalcitrant, obdurate, etc (if you don´t know these words, don´t feel bad, I didn´t either one week ago until I started studying for the GRE test needed to enter grad school. In the wise words of the Princeton Review Cracking the GRE--"look them up"--Damn. Not fun.) In fact, it would not be exaggerating to say my previous desires to visit Israel in the near future were nearly crushed. My thoughts turned to embracing the veracity of typical stereotypes that Israelis are cheap, concerned about nothing but money and are full of deception.

Then I met Eyal....and Daniel....and Kristen....and Mr. Hoffenberg....and many others whose kind, albeit guarded, hearts opened up to me and with patience they showed me a different type of person from the Holy Land. Eyal, my new manager, in particular has given me invaluable insight into the mindset of Israelis. He was the first person to quarrel facetiously with me, which in turn, showed me in fact others had tried to playfully argue, but my sensitive American side simply took offense. "Dense," some would say, "we can be very dense." The first time Eyal kept prodding me with accusations that I wasn´t doing my job correctly, until I finally yelled at him to shut up and get out of the office to let me do my work, he just burst out laughing--slapped me on the back and said, "that´s better, Audie." What? Try doing that to an American employer.

Since then, Eyal and I yell at each other daily, usually loud enough to turn heads on the street and give cause for the policeman stationed on the corner to give a wary glance inside. Then, we both grin childishly, after having vented our steam and laugh while one goes to buy coconut flavored cookies and the other prepares the afternoon coffee (see previous blog post on the intricacies of this coffee making). Once I took to heart Eyal´s promise that Israelis never mean for their tirades to be taken personally, I have been able to surrender my pride and in return have gained valuable insight into the surprisingly subtle communication that takes place between them, even during an argument over $2. Contrary to first impressions, these exchanges I once despised are actually signs of respect, of brother and sisterhood developed during the forced conscript in the military ever Israeli experiences when they turn 18--it is a load proclamation of existence and of individuality for a group of people who have been oppressed and fought against for centuries.

In the last two weeks alone, since my recantation, I have been honored by numerous invitations to visit Israel with the promise of having virtually unlimited places to stay for free and a personal guide to introduce me to the behind the scenes places only the locals are privy to know about. This marked change in interaction only affirms the well-documented psychological principle that people elicit the positive or negative responses from others by the attitude they present and the subtle body language exchanged. When my attitude and beliefs changed, so did the responses I received in return.

With an entire wold left to explore, I candidly admit I look forward to a future visit in Tel-Aviv, Jerusalem, Hayden and other places within Israel. Until then, I will hold on to the simple phrase used to greet one another with the dream of using it soon: "Shalom, ma nishma."

My friend José and heavy tears--the struggles of returning home.

2005-11-04T20:01:00.000-05:00

Today was payday and it couldn´t have come at a better time. I have mastered the art of living on as little as $.15 a day for the last week of each month. At first, this challenge seemed impossible, but slowly Jared and I have realized ways to stretch our budgets. For instance, the first two weeks of the month, we eat plenty of vegetables, fruit and meat once a day. Then, as our supplies dwindle, we switch to only vegetables and the other left-overs to make fantastic mish-mashed hashes for the third week. Naturally, the fourth week is the roughest when we are left with a bag of potatoes, a few spices and a pack of pasta. It is truly amazing what types of potatoes you can cook with a little olive oil, pepper, oregano left over from the pizza order a few weeks ago and a touch of tomato sauce. In fact, we have learned how to make at least three different types of potatoes using only these ingredients and one pan! Great stuff!

Besides food, the money comes as a blessing for two other reasons. This morning, I went to the hospital for my appointment. I must admit I was very nervous as I have heard mixed reviews about the hospitals in Ecuador, but my fears quickly dissipated when I arrived to find a clean, modern, albeit small hospital in the North of Quito. The entire process of checking in, getting the paperwork done, etc was rather daunting as I decided to leave my Spanish dictionary home to add a bit of extra challenge to the entire experience.

My doctors were fantastic. They spoke a tiny amount of English, but fortunately from my other doctor visit and speaking with Angie about these issues, my Spanish was good enough to make the entire appointment go rather smoothly. Upon inspection, they discovered my ear drum has indeed ruptured, which explains the pain, nausea and continued infection. When I asked about long term hearing loss, they assured me it should be possible to regain a large portion of my hearing within the next couple of months as my ear heals. So, I now have three medications to take for the next week and a half before my follow-up appointment.

No new info on the worm. When I go back in ten days, I am hoping to meet with another specialist to see what is going on. Perhaps this is too much information, but I did laugh at the expression on the faces of the two doctors when they asked me if I have diarrhea. "Are you kidding," I declared, "I have had it for over four months running!" (pun fully intended)

The third blessing of pay day and by far the most rewarding came just a few minutes ago. Throughout the day I had the usually throng of street children come by to say hi, collect their milk, sell me their candies, etc. After nearly two weeks of having no money to give them, I was delighted to finally be able to help them out once again and they were all giddy at receiving these small gifts. This evening a young boy of around 12 years old named José came into the office. He is the same one I bought school supplies for a few weeks ago as his family could not afford them in exchange for a drawing of Cotopaxi I requested from him. He is a passionate young artist and I love being able to support his dreams of drawing. Some days this dream is all that fuels him as he spends nearly eight hours each night after school roaming the streets shining shoes for business men and woman at $0.30 a piece.

Tonight, he came in and after quickly downing a glass of milk, we began talking about his day and everything new in his life. He looked exhausted and told me work has been slow lately, meaning there is trouble at home with the decrease in income. About twenty minutes into the conversation, he asked me if I can see without my glasses. I replied that I can, although it is very difficult for me and everything is generally blurry. He nodded and responded that he can hardly see. He went on to explain that it is tough for him to read the board or books at school and his writing is also impaired because of this. My heart broke for him and I asked him how much an eye doctor´s appointment in Ecuador is, as well as a new pair of glasses. His response seemed hopelessly expensive from his position: $15.

With that, I offered to pay for his new glasses and the doctors appointment as long as he drew me another picture. He sat there stunned and then as the shock wore off, became very excited. I also made him promise me that if there was any extra money, he would buy a new pair of shoes as his are more holes than fabric and in the Quito rainy season, this hardly suffices. José was all smiles.

Then, the entire mood changed:

"Look José, there is something I need to tell you..."

"Si?"

"I have to go home at the end of the month to the United States to be with my family. I am not sure when I will be back to visit, but it will probably not be for a long time--maybe a year or more."

José lowered his head without responding and began to sob. When he finally caught his breath, he raised his tear stained face long enough to announce, "But you are my only friend!"

With that, we both teared up again and I went to where he was sitting, placed his shoe shining kit on the ground and gave him a huge hug. He cried and cried and I tried to console him although I was upset myself.

There are no easy answers here. My return to the United States means celebration for some as the holidays approach and also tears and heart break for others. I suppose this dualistic nature is the very fabric of life itself and yet, this thought brings me little consolation and even less for the children who come by each day to say hello and visit with me. Damn. No easy answers...

Is anyone hungry? "I am!" said the worm enthusiastically...

2005-11-03T20:56:00.000-05:00

After finding out I would have to buy two airline tickets to return home, one for me and the other for Mr. Worm, I have decided enough is enough! It´s time to part ways with my new-found friend and constant companion.

Tomorrow, I head to one of the local hospitals early in the morning for an appointment with a very good specialist there who is supposed to help me with this dreaded ear-infection. I sincerely hope we are able to figure out something as I want to salvage as much of my permanent hearing as possible. In addition, I will bring up the slippery issue of mi amigo dentro de mi cuerpo and hopefully create a reasonable plan of action.

However, I also had another idea about possible treatment. Check this out:

When I was in Cuenca attending the Spanish classes, one day my professor declared we were going to watch a film about traditional cultures in Ecuador, including the famed curanderos or "folk healers". I was quite excited not only to be taking a small break from the tortuous four hours of Spanish drills (that ultimately were fantastic--just very tiring!), but also because I am quite interested in various types of medicine found around the globe, with a particular passion for Chinese medicine. So, with said enthusiasm, I sat in front of the television with my class mates and was mortified by what unfolded.

First, let me remind everyone that around this same time, we had just been exposed to a culinary specialty of Ecuador: cuy otherwise known as guinea pigs. Yes, the same ones people elsewhere in the world have as cute, cuddly pets for their children. Not so in Ecuador! The squeals from these tiny, helpless creatures is the signal for dinner time!

The first healing we witnessed on screen was quite traumatic. A girl of no more than nine years of age (have I been living in a Spanish speaking country long enough--look at what has happened to my grammar! Ahhh!) was wearing her best dress as visiting the spiritual curandero is a very important affair. Apparently, the girl had not been feeling well and the healer determined this was due to bad spirits. So, in proper fashion, he picked up an unsuspecting guinea pig from a nearby bucket and proceeded to beat the ___ out of her with the animal in hopes of getting rid of the spirits. Instead, the panicking girl was simply traumatized further and began crying. No doubt, she must have felt the entire world was turning against her!

Then, as one naturally does, we witnessed this same healer take a deep drag from the cigarette hanging from his mouth and systematically blowing the smoke into the girl´s face time and time again. Fantastic! Great idea!

Following this episode was a second healing that again involved cigarette smoke, hard-boiled eggs being rubbed over the entire body (see my previous posts during my time in Cuenca about my own experiences with an energetic cleansing involving eggs) and another ritual that took all of our breaths away and nearly our recently consumed lunches. This time a different healer grabbed a guinea pig and proceeded to rub a different child, thrashing the animal side to side while doing so, which looked as if it almost snapped the neck of the squealing creature. Then, when she finished this portion of the healing, she grabbed a small knife and while the animal struggled to free itself from her grasp, she slit the entire length of the belly to reveal the intestines and other internal organs. These were supposed to reveal what was wrong with the child as the guinea pig has the ability to accept some of the energy from other creatures and therefore leads to a more complete and accurate treatment. Wow! Great stuff!

So, with this in mind you can see the dilemma I faced when choosing either a hospital or a visit to a local group of curanderos famed in Ecuador to deal with my ear ache and worm. Depending on how tomorrow goes, I may still schedule an appointment with the others--but I will have to go to the pet store first!

In other news, more detailed travel plans will be available within a few days. I am hoping to buy my tickets tomorrow at the latest and then figure out my bus journey, which may include a stop in Boston for a week to visit Matt Oppenheimer. Anyway, stay tuned!

Always,

Audie

A "Gilled" Existence--Swimming, Snorkeling and a Possible Adventure Trip to the Galapagos

2005-10-25T18:38:00.000-05:00

Could I be any more excited right now? I think not...

After committing to working eight days straight including two double shifts totalling more hours in one week at the Gulliver than I care to think about, my efforts are paying off with four days off this next week! Woohoo! So, with reckless abandon, I am heading to the Northern stretches of beach in Ecuador with a group of close friends to spend the days laying around in hammocks after snorkeling in the ocean, maybe trying our luck at surfing and eating plenty of fresh seafood! I have ever intention of getting a significant sunburn and dancing the night away with the others on the white beaches as Atacames is known for its after-sunset festivities.

Then, on Wednesday, I am headed back to the Quijos River near Baeza on the jungle side of the continent for a two day rafting trip complete with a night of camping next to the river! (For previous descriptions of the Quijos River, see posts titled "Jungle Caves, Monkey Thieves and a nasty Parasite") Gary is quite excited for the trip, as are the rest of the Dent Family, as this month has been extremely slow for River People. I have been working with two different groups of travelers for over three weeks to put this trip together, the first of its kind on the Quijos and was quite pleased to call Gary this morning and announce we have at least 14 and possibly 16 people doing the trip! Jared and I are both going along to help with all of the logistics and to enjoy this amazing valley. Now that is what I call great stuff!

And, as if things could not get any more exciting, I have been working on bolstering relations with several of our outside operators, such as those deep in the jungle and the Galapagos. Today, I met with the owner of a well respected Galapagos operator from New Zealand, whose company specializes in adventure trips to the famed islands featuring one of the most celebrated concentrations of exotic biodiversity on the planet. Let´s just say Nick, the owner, and I are similar ducks in the same pond. (Where did that analogy come from? What´s happening to me?!) In other words, we would fly in the same flock given wings... (Ahhhhhh!!!!! The madness never ends....) The point being, his company visits all of the major islands and in style. They sea kayak the azul colored bays, dive with hammerhead sharks off coral reefs, snorkel their way around life laden lagoons and create memories to last a lifetime.

I started sharing with Nick some of my frustrations with the travel industry in Ecuador, namely service, guide quality, blah, blah, blah and told him of some business plans I have been scheming to increase the quality of tours through out the country. We both became quite animated as the hour passed (rarely a good thing with me!) and by the end of the meeting, he said he would try to figure out a time when I can come on one of the 8 day trips as a free passenger to witness what the islands and his company has to offer! Can you imagine diving at a place proclaimed "One of the top ten dive sites in the world" by a diving magazine last year? And what about sea kayaking among the penguins! Great stuff indeed!

The only problem.... (besides getting confirmation). I blew out both my ear drums a few years ago doing a dive in Hawaii, which nearly cost me my hearing. We spoke about this and his suggestion was to talk to my doctor, which I have to do already, because my inner-ear infection still hasn´t abated and I fear the infection was resistant to the anti-biotics I was given the last ten plus days. Then, I need to take care of this parasite issue (assuming the tests come back positive) and the medicines are reputed to being "unbelievably strong". My fellow co-worker described them by saying, "It is the only type of medicine even the local Ecuadorians won´t drink with..." Hmmmm... Interesting. So, until I find out more, I may have to restrict myself to simply doing snorkeling and the sea kayaking among the other activities and forgo the diving portion. A decent compromise after all!

Well, enough for now. Stay tuned for stories about the beach this weekend, rafting next week and the possible Galapagos adventure in the near future!

Cheers,

Audie

The United States failing war on drugs in Colombia.

2005-10-24T11:03:00.000-05:00

My Aunt Bea was born in Colombia and has since spent over twenty years living in South America. As such, I have had the wonderful opportunity to engage in rich dialogue with her about some of the more prevalent political, economic and social issues present on this continent, such as poverty, corruption, economic policies and most recently, the United States´ war on drugs raging in Colombia. After writing a response to one of her e-mails concerning the drug lords controlling a large portion of the country, I thought I would post some of my reply here in hopes of receiving feedback on this critical issue. Being so close to the issue in Ecuador, I would love to know what you think...

-----------------------

(...) Being within a couple hundred miles of the Colombian border definitely offers the chance to be immersed in the day-to-day happenings of the conflict rife country. From what I can tell, albeit I am not an expert by any means, is that the central state government is losing the battle. It seems between the FARC and the AUC, the majority of the regions are controlled by militant units, which are armed with increasingly advanced technology--some of the most up-to-date in the world.

Although I never thought I would say this, being here is showing me the "other side" of the reasons behind the farmers and ground people involved in the cocaine industry. Two main factors seem prominent in the rationale behind growing and processing cocaine. First, there is a strong historical and cultural connection between the coca plant and the indigenous populations throughout the Andean communities. Currently, I am reading a fantastic history of the Spanish invasion by John Hemming called, "The Conquest of the Incas". On several occasions, the coca plant is mentioned as a stimulant, medicine and other mundane uses with regards to the people living in the mountains and jungle alike. In fact, even today, it is possible to find coca leaves in Ecuador with relative ease.

This strong historical exposure is strikingly different than what people from European descent, including myself, are used to. At least speaking for myself, before coming here, when I hear the word coca, I immediately associated it with the popular drug: cocaine. However, now I am beginning to realize this is just one of the many uses and byproducts of the plant within the context of South American culture. It is possible, although I repeat that I am not an expert on this issue, that to many South Americans, cocaine is not seen as being that far removed from the other, Westernly-recognized "legit" uses of the coca plant.

The second factor I assigned little importance to before my arrival is the extreme pressure poverty and the reality or appearance of having few other options can play into a person´s decision making process. Even if the locals who are involved with the drug trade recognize the devastating long term impact of cocaine, it is highly likely that they feel they have little choice when confronted with propositions to participate in other types of industry. No doubt the highly lucrative cocaine industry leaves little room for consideration of lower paying alternatives. We are privileged enough in the United States to retort with the cliché, "money isn´t everything," but to someone who has children who are starving, this must seem ludicrous. Of course money is everything to this family. It means food, shelter and perhaps access to much sought-after medicine. In this instance, worrying about a drug problem on another continent that is directly connected to the farmer´s own fields probably would be the furthest notion from the family´s mind.

In light of all of this, I take strong issue with the United States approach to fire-bombing the crops in Colombia. Not only does this remove any source of income these families may have without replacing it with any opportunity equal to or greater to earn a new type of income to support daily life, it also pits a large majority of the country´s population against the "imperial power" of the United States. Living in the far reaches of the jungle and seeing a C-130 fly over, dropping a napalm like substance on the crops is hardly the way to improve United States--Colombian people relations.

In addition, billions of dollars are spent each year at for what results? In my humble opinion, if we wanted to make a dent in the cocaine war, we should work on the ground floor giving the people involved in this industry other viable alternatives, while at the same time specifically targeting the drug lords and then, supporting the state government in their efforts to eradicate these very issues from within their borders. Without a multi-pronged approach to this complex problem that extends far beyond simple moral stances against drugs, I see little change in the already bleak future.

Is this Italy?

2005-10-23T16:58:00.000-05:00

When I first arrived in Ecuador I assumed, like many other travelers, that the coffee here would be some of the finest in the world due to the close proximity to Colombia. As we all know, when we "assume" we make an "Ass" out of "u" and "me" and this case was no exception. The first cup of caffeine packed goodness I set my lips upon in Cuenca jolted me not from the savory flavors that were suppose to entice my nostrils and moistened my taste-buds, but the exact opposite! It appeared as though I had mistakenly been served water mixed with dirt--and of a very poor quality to top it off!

Naively, I hoped as I moved to Quito and was therefore closer to the border, the coffee would improve. However, in the capital city, I was met with the same old, instant frustration served from class jars or packages bearing the misleading brand, "Clasicos".

One day, Eyal, a fellow employee at Gulliver from Israel asked me to make him a cup of coffee. So, with my usual finesse, I made a cup of hot water and poured in a few tablespoons of instant coffee and handed it to him. He took one sip and almost spit the foul substance on the computer.

"You make coffee just like an American!"

"But," I half-heartedly protested, "I am an American...how else should I make coffee?"

"Audie, I swear, you are trying to kill me!" said with a wry smile. "Come here, I am going to show you the proper way to make a nice cup of coffee..."

The hour that followed was filled with a hulking Israeli, who spent years fighting in one of the most combat prone areas of the world, delicately explaining to me the subtle nuances of first making the secret brew. First, make a potent espresso, then steam the milk to a perfect temperature, finishing by adding a nice touch of milky-foam on the top. Pour this milk in the espresso and then add two and a half, "no more, no less" teaspoons of sugar. He was precise and passionate about his work and by the end of the lesson, I felt exhausted by the shear amount of care that went into the one cup of coffee.

"Now," he commanded, "you try."

Diligently, I commenced the entire process, worried the peaks of foam on the steamed milk were either too firm or too soft or that I had added a pinch too much espresso thereby destroying the delicate equilibrium. And, heaven forbid the sugar was not just right! Yikes!

When I hesitantly handed Eyal the cup nearly twenty minutes later, he cautiously took his time to smell the roast with his eyes closed and then, after giving me a look that demanded my instant death if it turned out to taste poorly, he took a small sip.

A large smile came across his face and he excitedly proclaimed, "Perfect! This is perfect."

I quietly muttered, "Sababa" to myself (Hebrew for "cool") and went back to my work.

Now, nearly two weeks later, I am enjoying my very own cup of "perfectly" brewed coffee. The milk was a bit stubborn today and I thought for a moment that the steam might make the foam on top a little firm for my tastes--but right at the last moment, I whisked the milk from the metal nozzle that delivers the potent air and tasted my efforts....

Absolutely perfect.

¡They thought I was Dutch....!

2005-10-20T14:07:00.000-05:00

Blasted!

I know most of you know that I have always wanted to be a world traveler, but this has gone too far! Just yesterday, I had five clients try to guess where I am from based upon my "accent". First of all, people from Idaho do not have accents--it is everyone else in the damn world that does. Second of all, do you know what the guesses were?

1) Canada (Eh? Where´d dat come from, eh?)

2) Illinois (Idaho is routinely confused with Illinois by travelers--I AM NOT FROM THE MID-WEST!)

3) Germany (Great-Grandma Woehrmeyer would have been pleased.)

4) Holland (Tell me, is the way I say, "Andt dat lagoona esht inkredible! Yah, you shood goh!" Is it this?)

5) South Africa (No response)

Granted, my accent has changed significantly since my arrival in South America. Even my colloquialism has undergone what some would classify as "miraculous" transformation, such as the addition of "Cheers!" and "Good Stuff!" taken from our British allies, but to assume that English is not even my first language! Come on!

Despite the fact I use my minimal knowledge of Swiss-German to impress the ladies at local clubs (I only know how to say, "I love you," which never fails to elicit a might blush), I can count to 1,000,000 in stunningly-quick French and manage to eek out a few phrases after five years of study, my German is limited to "cooked rabbit" and "Cheers", and my use of Swahili is exemplified by a personal accented rendition of "Giraffe"--I HARDLY CONSIDER THIS ENOUGH EVIDENCE AGAINST ME TO ASSUME ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

Oh Lord, take me now.

De vrede uit (Peace out in Dutch),

Audie

The Witt Factor

2005-10-17T16:28:00.000-05:00

I don´t know what it is about Julie Witt, but every time she is around, things seem just a bit...different. For instance, if you will recall, last time she came over the apartment to share dinner with Jared and I, we were robbed as we walked her to meet some of her friends at a nearby bar in the Mariscal. Well, last night, Julie returned from Tena and a white-water fun filled week with River People and crashed at our place for the night before heading on to Guayaquil and then Lima, Peru today.

The three of us enjoyed another dinner together--actually much to the amusement of everyone there, the same exact dinner as the previous time a couple weeks before--while visiting with a Peace Corps volunteer stationed in Guayaquil, who is a Georgetown friend of Jared´s. The evening passed quickly and before long, we were each ready to call it a night.

Anyway, when I woke, I went to the living room couch and snuggled up in a fleece blanket to try and warm my cold toes while Julie was busy packing her bag for the day´s journey. I started snickering when I saw her pull out three, large plastic zip-lock bags stuffed with clothes! These are not the "normal" (I am beginning to question what that word means after arriving in Ecuador) zip-lock bags that we are used to in the States--these are ENORMOUS. And, my favorite part, they have a one-way valve that lets air escape when you press on the bag after sealing it, without letting the air back in! Good stuff!

So, much to my delight, I watched Julie pack her various sets of clothing in each of these bags, dutifully sitting, kneeling or jumping on the packets until all of the unwanted (and apparently bulky) air had been forced out. Then, with great care, she packed these vacuumed sealed clothes in her large backpack with a small grin of satisfaction.

For a guy who eats virtually the exact same meal every night (piece of steak, sauteed vegetables, salad and yogurt) I was duly impressed. In fact, if I knew where to go, I would probably buy a few of those ENORMOUS zip-lock bags myself and when things get rough around Quito, I could put my entire body inside--seal it--and have Jared jump on it to get all the air out long enough for me to ride out the storm. That´s what I call Good Stuff!

Sunday Blues

2005-10-16T19:17:00.000-05:00

Greetings from Quito!

As Jared and I spontaneously decided to go to Mindo yesterday, shortly after breakfast, I realized that most of our adventures start off like a bad joke, "So there were four Italians, two Americans and a German in the back of a truck flying down a mountainside road..." But, try as I may, there is really no other way to describe our descent into one of the world´s richest ecological areas--home to more than 4,000 different species of plants, including the elusive "air-plants", which are parasitic by thriving on other plants--over 400 different species of birds, including more than 33 types of humming birds alone (more than any other place known on Earth) and 250 different types of butterflies.

Italian chattering filled the back of the pick-up truck and amidst the few words similar to Spanish I was generally lost in thought as I observed the natural wonder around me. We ate lunch at a local hot-spot touting the tasty "lamb on a rock" and a myriad of other dishes. Then, as the afternoon slipped away, Jared, Pedro (the German--whose name really isn´t Pedro) and I went for a rigorous couple hour hike through the enchanted forest nearby--our path snaking along side of the river carving its way through bright green meadows.

Upon our return to the small town, we took up residency among the five hammocks provided under the wooden porch of our hostal and sipped a few beers while listening to the constant outpouring of Salsa music from the nearby stereo. Minutes turned into hours and before long, we were all huddled around a table playing various types of Poker with imaginary money (too bad, because I would have won a fortune. Okay, maybe not a fortune, but enough money to buy my bus ticket home the next morning...). My favorite was an Italian version using only the 7´s through the Ace´s. Naturally, we played the hands speaking the minimal Italian we had learned and I took great delight in the frustration of the beautiful language.

But, all is not paradise in the land of volcanoes and jungle. Jared and I went to bed late in preparation of getting up early to catch the 6:30 am bus back to Quito, so I could be to work by 10:00 am. We dozed carelessly in the stiff seats and before we knew it, we were back in the grungy town, we call "home". Alas, another weekend gone!

With my ear infection almost gone and The Worm lying peacefully inside (Sunday is a day of commanded rest, after all) I am feeling a bit lonely in the office today. Oh well--a little down time for me never killed me either!

Till next time--

Audie

The Joke Continues...

2005-10-13T17:01:00.000-05:00

Well, I finally was able to pick up the package this morning. Wait, scratch that--this afternoon. Jared and I went to the Post Office first thing this morning with my passport copies and were expecting a brief exchange with the employees before going home and trying out the new short-wave radio Uncle Jeff sent me.

I gave the same woman, whom I had my less than pleasant encounter with yesterday, my documents and was not surprised when she demanded $1 to move me along in the process. After waiting for nearly 40 minutes in another line with my confirmed forms, I was called into a back room and sat down at a desk with another male postal employee and a military officer. The officer went and retrieved my package after my forms were meticulously checked and when he arrived he casually flicked open a knife and opened the box and made me remove all of the contents. Next, I had to open the case of the short-wave radio (the setting wasn´t exactly conducive the excitement I felt as it was now mixed with dread that they would likely take it from me for personal keeps) and they went through ever piece. One exclaimed that it looked like a very nice radio and the other was equally impressed. Instead of taking it, they made me put everything back into the box and then the officer disappeared for five minutes while I nervously waited.

Finally, he returned and in his possession was a single piece of paper with the amount I owed in "taxes" and "fees". My jaw dropped and I felt enraged at what I saw. They were demanding over 20% of my monthly income to pick-up the package. This is after I have already paid the woman outside and made two separate trips to the office. I literally did not even have that much money at all, including all of my money for the rest of the month. I felt devastated and bitterly told the two men that I thought this was all full of _____ and I would have to come back in a month or two when I had enough money. As I left the back room, Jared tried to console me seeing I was extremely upset. We walked outside and after a few tense moments, he graciously offered to pay the charges. "After all," he remarked, "this will benefit me too."

So, I stormed back inside with the money and was told to wait in line once again before I could pay. I felt humiliated and powerless, but had resigned myself to the fact that I couldn´t just leave the box there, especially after my uncle took the time and money to graciously send it. This time, I was ushered to the same desk dominated by the same thugs. I went to hand him the money and he simply brushed my hand away and told me now I would have to go deposit it in a bank account before they would give me the box. When pressed as to where the bank was, he told me the address near my apartment on the other side of town! More curse words flew as the absurdity of the situation reached an apex. He gave me the account number and necessary details for the deposit and this time I repeatedly asked if there was anything else I would have to do before getting the package. He assured me this was the last hurdle and I left in complete disbelief.

Jared and I did not want to spend the money on two or three more expensive taxis, so we hoofed it to the bank on foot. All the while, our stomachs were aching from the day of fast as it is Yom Kippur, the holy Jewish holiday. Jared was fasting out of religious doctrine and I, out of support for him. In traditional Jewish belief, today is supposed to be the Day of Atonement for our sins the past year. I wryly mused that the postal workers would need to fast for a few weeks to make up for their errors...

We reached the post office box several hours after our initial visit earlier this morning. Once again, I was told to wait in line and this time I was visualizing ways to grab the box from the back room and make a run for it if they gave me any more grief. Divine intervention dictated this was not to be and after only thirty minutes, proof that I deposited the money and a few signatures, Jared and I walked out of the office with the box. We spent all afternoon hungrily listening to world news and trying to figure out the different SW, LW, MW, AM and FM world radio bands. It was a bitter-sweet moment and one I hope not to repeat.

If anyone is planning on sending a package, shoot me an e-mail first. I know this ruins the surprise, but I literally do not have enough money to receive such kindness from the home front.

Thank you for the constant e-mails and photos...they routinely make my day.

With love,

Audie & The Worm

A Joke Gone Too Far

2005-10-12T19:54:00.000-05:00

Today I flipped out. In fact, it could be said that I lost it. One of the basic tenets I hold myself to in Ecuador is to always try and find the humor in any given situation and if this is not possible, at least to put the experience in perspective by remaining engaged, but slightly emotionally detached in order to see the "bigger picture". Many times this approach is the only way to survive here without going completely crazy. However, today I failed in this regard and became emotionally entangled in a fantastic bout of bureaucratic wrangling.

It happened more or less like this: I went to the post-office and after nearly a month of anticipation, I received the paper notice in my box that a package was waiting for me from my Uncle Jeff, who (bless him for eternity) sent a radio, newspaper from home and a couple of other items. When I went to the counter to retrieve the package, I was told it was not there and that I would have to go across town to pick it up at a different office. This made no sense to me as this is my normal post office and when I asked her what the change in pick-up location is for, she proudly announced that the package weighs 3.2 kilograms and that all packages that weigh more than 3 kilograms go to a different office. Oh, of course! Silly me for thinking that one of the largest postal branches in Quito could handle a 6.5 pound package!

At this point, I have less than an hour before I am due at work and am running severely low on cash after my doctor bill and medication for my ear infection. So, with great trepidation I hailed a taxi as it would take me five hours to walk to the office and I don´t know of any buses that go to this particular section of town from where I was. In the back of my mind, I reminded myself that I would have to pay to retrieve the package when I finally located it. From what I can tell, this is an out-right bride paid directly to the person working the counter as I have never been charged the same rate and sometimes they don´t charge me at all for receiving a package.

Anyway, I ran into the building after the kind taxi driver pointed out the non-descript facade and was met with a gently mob of people waiting to approach the windows for service. I scanned the options and chose the shortest line, while looking at the time with worry. "20 minutes left until I am late for work..." I mumbled to myself. Finally my time came and when I stepped to the window and handed the worker the sheet detailing the package information, she looked me in the eyes (thought to be a sign of attack in some cultures and this experience proved this theory correct) and asked for two validated copies of my passport.

"¿Que ____?" (What the ______?)

"Pero, ella a la otra oficina no me dije nada sobre esto!" (But, the woman at the other office didn´t tell me anything about this!) I protested to deaf ears.

The woman looked at me incredulously as if I were part of the largest lie in Ecuador. Oh wait, I suppose when a person thinks about the fact that I have NEVER before needed a passport or even a mere black and white copy of such, nonetheless a validated copy it would only make perfect sense that this time I would need it! After all, the woman at MY POST OFFICE (not the one where I could pick up MY PACKAGE...NOOO!) didn´t tell me to take my passport and besides, the package weighs over 3 kilograms! How stupid could I be! Of course I would need my passport!

After trying to use my South American Explorers card, sin photo, as proof of identity along with a postcard I received from Meg Fitzmaurice´s mother from Grangeville, Idaho (yes, I was able to pick this up from MY POST OFFICE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN) I was rejected the final time and the woman motioned for me to leave. I grabbed my assortment of things and headed for the door before the security could escort me. It just so happens (almost by chance it seems!) I learned today that I speak excellent Spanish when I am furious. Good to know!

So, tomorrow during my day off this week, I get to go back to the office with my two official passport copies, pay a bribe and pick up my package! Woohoo, I can hardly wait!

Well, I will try to remember my rule about keeping my humor or at least remembering that this is what adventure travel is all about. I just hope there are different security guards tomorrow than today...

The Longest Night...

2005-10-11T19:45:00.000-05:00

When I left work last night, I could hardly stand. The fever resulting my ear infection had taken hold and the rain beating down chilled me to the bone as I tried to stagger the five blocks to my apartment. As soon as I found myself in familiar settings, I fell to the couch exhausted and shaking uncontrollably. The pressure against my ear drum was inciting near black-out pain and I thought I would throw up from the stomach discontent.

I stripped out of my wet clothes and immediately layered on heavy alternatives trying to ease the extreme shivering, but to no avail. Jared was quite concerned and when he offered to make dinner, I opted instead just to go to bed in hopes I could sleep off the high fever and pain. However, I could not fall asleep and after thirty minutes of continued chills, greater than I have ever experienced before, Jared peeked his head into the bedroom and asked again if I would eat something. This time, I agreed and was blessed to find a full plate of hot food waiting for me at the table. We ate slowly and were able to share some laughs about the absurdity of the situation.

Finally, I made my way back to bed and began what would turn out to be one of the longest nights I have ever had the pleasure of enduring. My fever intensified and my ensuing dreams were amazingly lucid. Each second felt like a day and after an hour of fighting the bad dreams, intensive chills and pain, I felt like I would never recover. As divine intervention would have it, the fever broke around 3:00 A.M. and instead of struggling to stay warm, I woke in a pool of sweat and quickly shed the excess layers of clothing and blankets. The disturbing nightmares continued well into the morning when the alarm went off signaling it was time for me to go to work.

Gingerly, I rose from bed and immediately felt nauseated. Oh joy! The day at work passed without incident and what I hoped to be a tranquilo day in fact turned out to be quite a rush. I started the antibiotics and eagerly await the beginnings of relief. Only time will tell and in the meantime, I have future adventures to plan!

Chao,

Audie

Jungle Caves, Monkey Thieves and a nasty Parasite

2005-10-10T19:48:00.000-05:00

Hola Amigos!

Well, this weekend I had a much needed weekend off from work and I wasted no time organizing two full days of activities for my friends and me. On Saturday, we woke bright and early and took a bus East of Quito towards the lush valley of Papallacta--known for its natural hot springs and the monstrous Quijos River. When we arrived in Baeza, Gary from River People was waiting for all of us and had arrived a few hours before with the guides and equipment in order to prepare for the long day of whitewater fun. It is hard for me to describe how wonderful it was for me to see the Dent family again with Victor and Valancio, the two guides from Tena. After six weeks in Quito, I was beginning to feel like I would never see them again...a thought was was disheartening and left me feeling isolated.

The Quijos River (Class III+ and IV) is simply unbelievable. It swaths its way through rugged country complete with rock canyons that have impossibly intricate rock formations, lush green mountainsides that dominate both sides of the river and a list of whitewater rapids that are the envy of most other rivers in Ecuador. In fact, the Quijos is not an obscure river in Ecuador. Next week, the World Rafting Championships are being held on the exact same stretch of the river we experienced this weekend. Over twenty countries sent teams to partake and some countries sent two or three teams to compete in the different competitions.

At one point, we were neck and neck with a woman´s team from the Czech Republic. In good nature, we gave them a nod and began racing. At first, they simply laughed and tried to pull away with a couple strong and perfectly executed strokes. However, despite our sloppy form and complete lack of professional experience, we were able to keep up with them for close to fifty yards, which simply infuriated them. The captain shot Alex a vicious look and with a booming voice urged her comrades on. Before long, we were exhausted and they easily pulled ahead--beating us into a churning hydraulic that nearly capsized our boat. Their intensity and competitive spirit seemed rather funny to me as they actually took our challenge seriously. I would have loved to see them later in the day, perhaps at the take-out point to buy them a beer or exchange more familiar glances, but alas, they were long gone by the time we arrived.

By the end of the day we were all so exhausted from the exertion and excitement that we nearly passed out in front of a TV housed in a small café in Baeza. The futbol game between Ecuador and Uruguay, which brought the entire country to a screeching halt, was still playing and we were able to take part in the rowdy celebration that ensued after the draw, which launched Ecuador into next series of playoffs for the World Cup. Even Baeza, a town with a minimal population still put on a impressive display of drunk driving and hoopla-ing. All of this made for a difficult time catching a passing bus to Tena, but after an hours persistence, our efforts proved worthy and we collapsed on the hard seats that jostled every bone in our bodies while flying over the unpaved terrain.

Sunday morning we woke early after a late night of partying in Tena and heading for the famed Jumandy Caves tucked between the thick growth of the jungle. We secured a guide and then made our way towards the mouth of the cave, which required navigating around the rickety water slides erected several years ago in attempts to lure tourists to a more "developed" destination. The resulting crumbling apparatus served more as a distraction and at one point I nearly suggested we turn back. Yet, once again our faith proved to be our savior and we were rewarded with over two fantastic hours of underground exploration complete with deep lagoons cupped by the muddy walls of the cave, raging waterfalls, bats, rock formations adorning the ceilings and three huge spiders waiting for the unsuspecting passerby to place his or her hand on the walls.

At one point, near the base of one of the waterfalls tucked away in a remote passage of the cave there was a hole concealed in the cave floor. The cascading water crashed onto the rock platform and then was swept away by the river nearby. However, as our guide showed, it was possible to edge our way under the immense pressure of the water to the hole and then with a magical flare, drop through the cave floor into a concealed chamber. I was the first to try and being underwater in this tight space beneath the crashing waterfall definitely raised my heart level a few notches. Yet, after being submerged nine feet, I kicked my way upward in pitch blackness and found the rim of the floor (now the ceiling to me!) and pulled myself to freedom. It was a spectacular experience and one that will always be associated with the caves in my memory.

No tour to the caves could be complete without learning about their amazing history. In the 1500´s the Spanish were waging a terrible war against the local population, decimating them by the tens of thousands. In an attempt to flee from the horse mounted warriors, the locals fled into the cave and painstakingly made their way through the complex tunnel system, battling seemingly endlessly deep pits in the path, small crawl ways, false ends and all to emerge successfully at the other side of the tunnel system. Despite the attempts of the Spanish to follow the locals, ultimately they were unable to navigate the complex maze and objective hazards, much to their chagrin.

After being in the caves with two excellent flashlights and a guide, I can hardly imagine the experience of the locals with only candles at their disposal and a horde of blood-thirsty Spanish applying pressure from behind. It must have been terrifying and yet they survived to fight another day.

Thirty minutes after our emergence from the bowels of the cave, we found ourselves at a place known as Monkey Island. Here we ate a delicious lunch and were entertained by ten or so of the local namesakes. One monkey, named Jordan, must have been quite young and while weary of strangers, he approached my outstretched hand and let me scratch him behind his ears. After a while we had both gotten used to each other and with this new friendship Jordan became emboldened trying (rather unsuccessfully!) to pull my hand with all his might and lead me into the outreaches of the trees above. We was quite annoyed with me for not following whole-heartily and I tried in Spanish and any other monkey language I know to explain the impossibility of his request. Finally, after exerting much energy, he simply rested his head in my outstretched hand and closed his eyes breathing a large sigh of disappointment.

We met other fury friends, but none of them elicited the excitement and horror as the snakes. First, one of the employees brought out a large, three-foot boa and let it wrap its powerful muscles around our necks, shoulders and any other body part in near proximity. Then, we were used to this novelty, he startled all of us by bringing out a monster boa that stretched well over six feet and had a diameter nearly the size of my head. The gentleman never let go of the snakes massive head and when pressed for an explanation, he simply showed us the large scar caused by the nasty bite of the boa. Apparently, even though they are not poisoness, they have small razor sharp teeth and a powerful jaw muscle to employ them. We were all duly impressed and even more so when the man told us he catches all of these in the wild nearby. Good stuff!

Today, I am quite sad to be back at work, but also silently relieved to have a few days to rest my aching body before another bout of adventure. The only thing preventing me from remaining on cloud nine is a nasty ear ache and stomach problem I am currently suffering from. After I climbed Corazon (4 weeks ago?) my ear began hurting and I simply assumed it was from the rapid gain and loss of altitude and the pain would subside within a few days. Well, it didn´t and this weekend the pain only increased as I dived in the deep pools inside the cave and went rafting. At this point, I realized it was an infection as I have had many in my life and hoped it would clear soon. Apparently this was not to be and about ten a clock this morning, the pressure increased rapidly and I lost all hearing in my right ear. The pain was not comforting and I went to a pharmacy to buy drops at Angie´s encouragement.

This afternoon, I told Eran what was going on and he immediately called his doctor and asked for him to see me as soon as possible. When I arrived, my fear abated after meeting Dr. Rosenberg. He has worked all over the world, most recently for the American and British Embassies conducting research for the CDC. His English was perfect and his mild, confident nature put me instantly at ease. We spoke for a few minutes about both of our journeys before the examination and I was able to explain how I have had previous operations on both ears and have also ruptured the ear drums before. His examination quickly confirmed all of this and with little time to waste, he quickly announced I have a nasty middle-ear infection that is about the rupture my ear drum within a day or two if we cannot ease the pressure. Naturally, I am worried as this occurrence is one of the most painful experiences I can remember from my childhood and adolescence.

He then inspected the rest of my body and curiously asked about other matters that would normally make me blush, such as bowel movements and such. My responses garnished an unpleasant answer when we announced that he thinks I have an (some) intestinal parasites. In a few days, I am supposed to go in for a test to confirm this suspicion and I feel a mixture of awe and terror at the prospect of having a worm living inside of me. That jerk! Stealing my food without even asking!

Anyway, I will definitely keep the blog site updated about these two issues. After all, this is the stuff that puts the adventure in travel!

Until then--take care,

Audie & The Worm

A touch of Irony

2005-10-07T10:54:00.000-05:00

Last night Jared and I had a friend over to our apartment to share dinner and conversation. We had a great time, but before we knew it, Julie had to run and meet some friends at a nearby bar in the Mariscal Sector. Jared and I offered to walk her, because the area around our apartment (on second thought, almost all of Quito) is notorious for being a haven for the budding future criminals of Ecuador. As we walked, I did not see the usual thugs, drug dealers and prostitutes that line the Mariscal´s streets until we reached one of the famous houses on Reina Victoria. The front porch was covered with a throng of the usual societal delinquents draped with thick gold chains. Cars with impossibly black windows lined the street and the ear splitting rap thumped from the open front door, torturing anyone passing by.

At this sight, Julie exclaimed, "I am glad you two offered to walk me...I would rather scared right now if I was alone." Indeed, I thought, as would I. However, Jared and I assured her that despite the risk, we have never been hassled from this particular group. In fact, neither one of us have ever been mugged or robbed...

Then we turned the corner.

Here, the sidewalk is narrow and Julie and I walked ahead of Jared. As we neared the half-way point on this street, I heard Jared arguing with someone. I turned to see a young man extremely close to Jared and heard him ask for some money in the typical pleading voice. Normally, in the day Jared and I would give them $0.25, but at night this is only asking for trouble, so true to form Jared tried to keep going while repeating, "No tengo algo" (I don´t have anything). The young man became aggressive at this point and pushed Jared. At the sight of this, I told Julie to hang on and I turned to approach him. As I did, the young man came at me and asked me for a dollar. I told him to get away and went to push him back to get some distance between the two of us, when he pulled the neck of a broken bottle out of his pocket and held it close to his hip, letting the light glint off the jagged edges.

My first reaction was to try and disarm him using the techniques I have studied in Kung Fu for years. However, the crazy, drugged-out look in his eyes told me he wouldn´t feel a thing and would most likely not go down easily. So, I chose the safer path and fished in my pocket for a dollar bill. When I handed it to him, he was dissatisfied after seeing me rustle in my pocket. Correctly, he guessed I had more money on me and thrust the broken bottle towards my stomach in a quick movement, while demanding the rest. This change of pace frightened me considerably and I immediately consented not wanting to provoke him any more. I emptied my pocket and gave him all the money I had, worried he might still try to do harm to either me or Jared and Julie who were standing about six feet away. Divine grace was in our favor and instead he turned and ran into the shadows.

None of us spoke more than a few words for the next couple of minutes. Jared and I left Julie at the bar within the safety of her friends and started walking home. It seemed this was our night for trouble as we had two others approach us with malicious intent. At least this time, we were able to tell them we had no money, because someone else had just robbed us five minutes before! They seemed annoyed at this unlucky fate, but could do little else but retreat to their cronies hidden in the shadows.

By the time we reached the apartment, my blood was boiling at the thought of what just happened. It was humiliating, frustrating, frightening and more. Both Jared and I believe in helping people when they are need, but these punk men are not starving, nor are they dressed in shabby clothes like so many of the other poor in Ecuador. Rather, they are strung-out on coke, heroine and anything else they can snort or inject to get a high and need to rob to support their habits. Losing the money was upsetting as neither Jared nor I make more than what it takes to live month-to-month. Yet, the most disturbing part of this situation was the realization that these young men are destined to a life of crime and pain. Most likely they will only become more bold in the future as their addictions increase until the point that they either pick on the wrong person, such as another gang member or drug dealer and get killed or the police throw them into one of Ecuador´s notoriously harsh prisons where they will likely starve to death if not killed first by another inmate.

Jared put it best last night when he reflected, "I would rather be us without the money, than them with it." I think I agree...

You mean is actually rains during rainy season?

2005-10-04T17:11:00.000-05:00

Without even looking up, I can tell what time it is: 5:00pm. Every afternoon the heavens open up and with great relief dump all of the rain in the world on Quito, Ecuador. Hyperbole, you say? You haven´t been to Quito this month. This type of weather will last until the end of December and then starting in January and February the rains will only come every few days... But for now, I take comfort in knowing what the weather will be tomorrow and each day afterwards for the next three months: beautiful, clear and cold in the morning, cloudy in the afternoon and then rain in the early evening!

During this season, Ecuador is plagued by transport delays and unhappy tourists. The dirt roads become complete bogs that trap any bus trying to slip through. I have seen some hilarious pictures of this phenomenon and I imagine they are only funny to me, because I have yet to be caught in this sticky situation! This weekend, we I go for a trek in the northern Andes I will most likely experience my first muddy afternoon, which I am awaiting with great anticipation.

Cheers,

Audie

Milk Moustache

2005-10-02T12:39:00.000-05:00

Greetings from Quito!

It is amazing the difference two weeks can make in a country where tourism is one of the major industries and economic thrusts. The streets of the Mariscal, which is the tourist sector of Quito, and also where my apartment and office are located, are completely deserted. Of course, there is the occasional backpacker or travel immediately differentiated from the locals by the Lonely Planet guide book in hand and confused look on their faces as they try to orientate themselves amongst the businesses and maze of streets. Fortunately, Gulliver Travel arguably has the best location in all of Quito and our business has not taken such a drastic hit from the beginning of the low-season. Other shops have already closed their doors until next summer and the sight of closed offices is a constant reminder of the transient nature of this business.

In several of my previous posts, I have alluded to the extreme poverty and lack of education in Ecuador. Several times, I have mentioned the throngs of street children in Quito selling gum or whatever else they can to tourists to help support their families. When I see these children I feel a potent concoction of shame, rage, wonder, pity, compassion, love and fear. However, even more powerful of a feeling than seeing the children (or elderly, disabled, young mothers, etc) in this position is the clear reality that I can help to change this situation.

To this end, Jared and I have spent the last week devising a project that we are going to put into action either next week or the week after. Now that we are both gainfully employed, we are able to focus some of our energies and money on these very issues. Our goals are simple: to provide mentorship, education and healthy food. We will plan a 45 minute lesson plan--twenty minutes of which will be spent teaching conversational English to help expose them to more opportunities as they grow older and then we will spend the last twenty-five minutes reading Spanish story books to them with the hope sparking their interest in books and reading. Then, to celebrate their hard work, we will provide a small meal complete with milk, whole-wheat bread, fruit and some type of protein.

I have spoken with several English teachers in the area and they were just excited about this project as Jared and I. As we get more children, we will call upon them to come and help with the weekly lesson ensuring each child receives quality time with a mentor. In addition, I have already had a couple of local Ecuadorians offer to contribute some money to the cause to help buy the food and books necessary.

It is difficult for me to express how blessed I feel to be in the position to undertake this project. Often times I ponder the chance (or divine will--I am not sure which it is) of circumstance--meaning, had I not been born in one of the most privileged countries on Earth, within a wonderful family and supported by a caring community, would I be one of the children on the streets of Quito scraping together enough money to pay for my books at school, like one of the girls I spoke with last night?

During our conversation, Vilma (age 9) revealed that she is fortunate enough to go to school during the day, but she must work every night until 1:00 am to help her family pay for her school costs and food for her brothers and sister. When she finished drinking a glass of milk I gave her from the office, she had a large milk moustache to complete her grin. I asked her if in a week or two would she be able to join us for some English lessons and a story with some of the other children. Her look of amazement quickly turned to excitement and I have little doubt Vilma will one of the first ones to grace us with her eager presence soon enough...

It´s time for action.

2005-09-28T18:25:00.000-05:00

Today, as everyday, several younger children came into the office to beg from the other customers and try to sell their candies for a few centavos. Normally, either my boss is here and he promptly kicks them out or the customers become irritated at having their pockets rummaged by the tiny hands and the stream of tears that make them second guess spending so much money on tours when children are living on the streets in front of their eyes. However, when the normal throng of children arrived today I decided to talk with them and get to know them better as I was alone in the office and no one was there to stop me from taking a few minutes away from my work to converse with the little ones.

I was able to learn a little more about who they are and their unique personalities, all the while their eyes lit up at being given genuine personal attention instead of being brushed away in the normal fashion. At the end of our conversation, I offered the last remaining girl some milk we have in the office for the customers coffee (last time I offered one of the girls some of my coffee and she squealed with terror and ran out of the office!) and I received a toothless grin in reply.

Next week, after payday, I am going to buy a carton of milk and some bread to hand out to the street children when they come into the office. Eran will most likely not be too happy about it, but I would rather face the wrath of an angry employer for giving our bread and milk to hungry children than to sit idly and do nothing.

Jared and I have another plan in the works on a larger scale, but I am going to do some homework first before writing about it. However, stay tuned and within a few weeks I will have more to report.

Have a great day!

What street is this anyway?

2005-09-27T15:47:00.000-05:00

So, I have met this Italian woman the same age as me and as it so happens sometimes in life when you meet a person who takes your breath away with their elegance, grace and kindred spirit, I have found myself doing foolish things!

Let me offer an example: Last night, after dark, I was running through Quito´s streets during a torrential downpour to an equipment shop we use to rent climbing clear for out high-altitude climbs, such as Cotopaxi, Cayambe, etc. If you have noticed, when it rains darkness becomes darker and tonight was no exception--the streets were as black as could be despite the valiant effort of sparsely spaced street lamps. As I sprinted across one street not far from my apartment in route, I heard what I thought was my name being shouted. I slowed, turning to see who was beckoning me and my eyes could not locate anyone. So, I took two more leaping bounds before hearing the same call. This time I did a full 180 degree turn and shielded my eyes from the rain, scanning the deserted streets. I spotted a woman waving to me and thought with delight that it was Elena. In a goofy manner, I ran towards her with a dopey grin on my face, but as I neared within five feet, she stepped out of the protective shadows and revealed she was not Elena at all, but one of the local prostitutes!

"Hola...mi nombre es Monica."

"Errrr...." I offered as while I scrambled to collect my thoughts, "hola, Monica."

"Estas buscando por algo...una mujer....yo?" (Are you looking for something...a woman...me?)

"No! Tengo que ir! Chao!" (No! I have to run! Bye!)

And with that I ran even more purposefully towards the rental shop with a childish laugh stuck in my throat after such a ridiculous event. Jared that night gave me grief and offered that I should tell Elena the story, but somehow I just couldn´t see it going over very well. "Elena, I thought I saw you and was quite excited, but then the woman turned out to be..." Right, not going to happen.

-------------------------------------

Not much new to report, unfortunately. I am working long days at the travel agency and am excited for a break in a week or two to do a two or three day trek I have been planning through the quaint villages south of Quito to an old volcano with a massive, mineral lake tucked inside the crater. It should be great fun and hopefully I will have photos to show afterwards.

Jared and I have been training nearly everyday for an attempt of Cotopaxi. Despite my aching muscles, it feels great to be working towards a goal, thereby giving me tangible motivation to exercise.

In other news, I ordered an almuerzo (standard fixed menu lunch) today was terrified to see a plate of beef cooked with boiled bananas plopped down in front of me. I thought I had escaped those gooey, slimy bananas when I left Cuenca! Ahhhh!

Okay, I will try to think of more interesting things to write next time. Until then, take care!

70´s Decoration Never Looked So Good

2005-09-22T15:34:00.000-05:00

Two days ago, after much anticipation, Jared and I moved out of the hostal (we left the broken board under the bed!) and into our new, yet very old apartment. It is almost intoxicating having so much space again--nearly 350 square feet! Our humble abode consists of two bedrooms, although we have two twin beds in one and therefore decided to share that room, so guests can stay with us (hint, hint), a bathroom complete with a half-size tub, a kitchen for one person to squeeze into and an absolutely perfect living room complete with a large desk and table, so both of us can study at night!

It is amazing what cooking for yourself can do for the soul after eating in restaurants three meals a day for nearly three months. Even though Ecuadorian beef is some of the worst I have ever tasted in the world, I have spent the last two nights cooking stir-fry with a bountiful number of fresh vegetables. What Ecuador lacks in meat, they make up for in fruits and vegetables. In fact, after work on Tuesday night, Jared and I walked a couple of miles to the nearest grocery store and felt like children at Christmas with the myriads of savory treats available. When we approached the fruit section, our senses were overwhelmed as well over half of the types of fruits I have never seen before. So, what to do, but buy one of each! We created a miniature Noah´s Ark (except instead of animals, we have fruit--and, instead of two of each, we only have one albeit we did buy two strange oranges) in a bread basket and have decided to use it for decoration until we through a massive fiesta some night and cut open each fruit to sample.

Well, that is all I have to report right now--one of my next posts will be on the political/environmental sides of tourism, which is assured to be a depressing blog post, however, it must be written about...

Till then!

Audie

Room...and Board Included

2005-09-19T19:27:00.000-05:00

As so often happens during long spells of hostal living, something truly magnificent and out of the ordinary happens. Usually this means meeting a special traveler who opens your mind to a new world of possibilities with tales of solo passages across previously unthinkable spans or something similar. However, last night, I had a different type of experience in my hostal that will forever make me rethink the phrase "Room & Board Included".

You see, it occurred like this: Jared and I were moved from our dorm room into a private room almost two weeks ago when a large group of students arrived and forcefully took over the multi-bed facilities. No problem--at least we were allowed to stay since I have been living there so long while every other traveler was asked to leave the hostal. However, the private room only had one bed and after one night of Jared and I sharing the same sleeping space, we had enough and promptly asked for a spare mattress for the floor. The only problem with this perfectly conceived plan was there is not sufficient space in the room for both beds AND to open either the bathroom door or the front door leading to the stairwell. So, each night and morning, while the spare mattress is on the ground and our suitcases flung in the far corners of the room, Jared and I have to practice acrobatics. We have learned some fantastic maneuvers that involve elements of rock climbing, mountaineering, etc.

Yet, last night, I felt the urge to take this sport to a new level. As I tried fleetingly to leave the bathroom, I forced the door open barely wide enough for me to squeeze through and felt the soft underbelly of the mattress trapping my feet. I spied my bed a few feet away and decided to try my luck at flying. So, with best wishes from Jared, I took flight!

I landed on my bed and while feeling elated to have accomplished this task with grace and ease, I also heard the unmistakable crack of shattering wood and felt my body sink nearly eight inches deeper into the mattress than such a flight normally would warrant. Without looking, we both burst into uncontrollable laughter as I struggled to pull myself from the cloth vortex. After our stomachs ached sufficiently from our outburst, we pulled the mattress up and was greeted with the sight of newly deceased bed boards lying in shards all over the floor beneath the bed. With great integrity and thoughtfulness, we pushed the pieces as far under the bed as possible, so as not to be seen by the cleaner the following morning. Afterwards, we arranged the remaining boards, spaced evenly to give a comfortable rest and continued our laughter.

Now, the only remaining challenge from this episode is to figure out how to get the shards of wood downstairs to the living room fireplace without being spotted...

Tomorrow, we move into our apartment and we could not be more excited. This moment has been long anticipated and I will give a full account as soon as we are settled.

Hope all is well on the home front. Until next time, Cheers!

Travel Magazine Ideas

2005-09-18T16:22:00.000-05:00

Jared,

Here is a site we should explore in depth...good stuff abound.

Audie

http://www.world-newspapers.com/travel.html

There ain´t no love from this Corazon.

2005-09-13T18:02:00.000-05:00

As promised, here is the account of our weekend ascent of Corazon "Heart" mountain.

Thirteen of us embarked early Sunday morning in a converted pick-up truck designed to act as a transport carrier for Gulliver. Jammed in the back, most of the twenty or so minute ride to the base of the mountain was spent in nervous chatter and idle talk--anything to take our minds off the task to follow. We followed the rutted roads through farmer´s fields, meeting an occasional Ecuadorian supported by a gnarled cane walking the lands. Each of them wore leathered skin from ruthless exposure to the equatorial sun and a smile that complimented their toothless greetings as we sped by. It must be strange for them to see foreigners arriving from around the world to climb Ecuador´s famous high-altitude mountains. Clad in our sporty gear complete with goofy grins we must have looked ridiculous to the men who know the terrain better than we ever would after a thousand climbs... However, their kindness never betrayed any sense of condemnation if it existed.

Within minutes of stopping and preparing our gear we began to hike the dusty trail hugging the sides of the foothills. As the line of people surged forward, I noticed a water bottle laying on the ground easily forgotten by one of the other climbers. Even though this mistake would have only caused discomfort and an early descent for the owner on Corazon, I was reminded that on more serious mountains these oversights can have extreme consequences.

Even though my body has been acclimatizing for the past month to Quito´s high elevation, I noticed the thinner air right from the beginning. Perhaps it was because Jared and I did not have breakfast before hand as we arrived late in night at Papagayo and therefore slept in, or maybe it was simple altitude sickness that affects a significant portion of people at these heights, but whatever the cause I felt horribly sick to my stomach. Several times I went to the side of the trail to throw up, yet nothing happened much to my chagrin. My hope for relief was keep to painful anticipation for the entire day.

The first part of Corazon actually follows an old donkey road (vehicle travel would be virtually impossible, even with 4x4 as the road was extremely rough) and provides exceptional views of the surrounding majestic Andean peaks. To our left and North of Quito, we were treated with a glimpse of snow covered Cayambe thundering skyward from the middle of the surrounding valleys. Between us and Cayambe was Pinchincha dominating the Quito skyline, Antisana, Ecuador´s fourth highest volcano and one of the more technically difficult to climb, beginner´s Pasachoa and the perfectly shaped monster, Cotopaxi, less than ten miles away.

When we stopped for an energy snack a few hours into the climb and halfway up the mountain we were nervous to see winds carry dark clouds above us at a rate I have never before witnessed completely obscuring our target peak. From below and still in the relative peaceful weather, I remember thinking that Corazon was shrouded by the breath of God. Later, I would think that is was not the breath of God, but God´s rage itself.

After leaving the dirt path we swathed our way through thigh-high clumps of grass. Between these golden colored clumps were large patches of lichen ground cover that held tightly to a spongy material that absorbed the impact of our steps with incredible grace and ease. It felt luxurious to be walking on such ground after the joint pounding road before. Forty minutes later we arrived at the base of the last part of the climb that is without a doubt the most technically, physically and mentally difficult section of the mountain. Looking upwards our eyes were greeted by a most unpleasant sight: nearly 1,000 vertical feet of loose rock scrambling amidst the hellish winds we had previously seen from afar.

Strapping on our helmets on warmer gear, we prepared for the final two hour push. At this point, I was already quite tired and worried about my physical performance on more difficult terrain with increased altitude. Keeping my doubts to myself I put my head down and started the 50+ degree ascent one step at a time.

About two-thirds of the way up the rocky ascent, we stopped to catch our breaths and to wait for a couple slower climbers to reunite with the group. Until this spot, we had been relatively shielded from direct wind and, as such, had little idea of its full force. Yet, as we sat there behind enormous boulders we witnessed a stunning sight. The clouds around us parted and there, directly below us, lay the rim of the eroded volcano with a green forest tucked inside the crater. A little further out, a sea of brilliant white clouds stretched towards the ocean giving the impression of effortless suspension. My stomach turned a little as I ventured to one of the ledges and peered at the plunge nearly 5,000´ to the rocks below. However, no rest for the weary! Time to continue our struggle upwards.

Turning a corner we were finally greeted by the high speed winds in excess of 50 miles per hour. I was caught off balance and was almost blown to the ground. Fighting to remain on our feet, we tucked our heads, hunched our backs to reduce wind surface and fought for each step on the relentlessly steep path. As my hands went completely numb, I cursed myself for forgetting my gloves in the comfort of my office in Quito. I tucked them into my armpits hoping the radiating warmth would at least keep them from becoming any colder. Razor sharp pieces of sand slammed into our eyes caused moments of short lived blindness. Every part of my body was occupied with hanging on to the mountain side as the wind tried with all its might to rip us from our precarious perches.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of suffering, we emerged victorious on the summit although by this time I could hardly muster a smile due to utter mental and physical exhaustion. All of us collapsed and the only thing that seemed to rouse any of us after a few minutes was a bottle of Grant´s Famous Whiskey someone produced from their pack to celebrate. In turn, we each tossed back a small mouthful and our stomach felt the first warmth since our valley departure six hours before. We ate our sandwiches and then rested for another twenty minutes before the long descent.

Most people fail to realize that the descent in mountaineering is by far the most dangerous portion of a climb. In fact, over 80% of all accidents occur on the descent when the weary climbers tend to loose focus and are no longer inspired by any illustrious goal other than the distant dream of a warm bed and food. Keeping this in mind, I gathered all of my strength and carefully planted each step amidst the loose scree only falling once.

When we reached the base of the final ascent, where the rocky section begins, Jared, Ishai and I decided to go ahead of the group and run the 3 miles down the mountain to meet the waiting taxi driver to ensure he would not leave. Our entire group was already an hour behind schedule and the descent normally takes at least two and a half hours. So, with best wishes from the others, we literally flew down the mountain side at a pace that pounded my hips and knees causing me to have blurry visions at time from the pain. Three-quarters of the way down, we decided to take a shortcut and instead of switch backing on the rutted road we plunged our way through chest high grass straight down. I fell once and the grass cut my finger causing my hand to be covered in blood, which I didn´t notice in my delirium until Jared pointed it out. However, this was the only incident and we were able to reach the vehicle in less than forty minutes.

Now, I am sitting in an internet café smiling to myself at the thought of the long day. The only reminder I have of our adventure is two of the largest blisters I have ever had on both soles of my feet, aching thighs when I stand and, of course, the pictures in my memory that I will never forget.

(Real photos will be posted soon...)

Robbed, Redeemed and Selling Like Crazy!

2005-09-10T10:36:00.000-05:00

Well, as you can probably tell from the lack of postings this week, I have been extremely busy with my two jobs. Everything is going extremely well at Gulliver Travel and each day I am presented with new challenges and an equal number of rewards. My days are spent running around Quito meeting with banks, fixing the sloppy daily and monthly accounting from before, creating new marketing packages, meeting different tour operators and learning their packages and, of course, selling like mad! At first Eran, the Israeli owner, was a bit shy and reserved. However, after I sold a phenomenal number of trips in one day Thursday, he warmed up considerably and took me out to a delicious curry dinner complete with the local beer. Good times!

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This week, I had the strangest experience that has left me quite confused. I went to retrieve my backpack complete with all of my climbing, camping and expedition equipment from my other office at World Bike. When I arrived my backpack was nowhere to be found. I was told it had been stolen! Needless to say, I was quite upset as there is always someone at the desk by the only door leading into the place and as such, it should never have made it out the door in the thief´s hands. To put it lightly, I learned how quickly and loudly I can speak Spanish as I confronted one of the employees. He is not the most trustworthy person in the world (for a variety of reasons that I don´t need to explicate now) and promised he would try to get my backpack back.... Errrr, what? How was he supposed to do that if he didn´t know what happened?

Anyway, the next day I went back to the office and my backpack had been returned! The employee said he called someone he knew and found it, which clearly indicates he either knew the exact person who took it in the first place or he knows which rings stolen goods travel. Either way, I felt mixed emotions--relieved it had been returned as it contained a significant amount of irreplacable equipment including my camera and angry that something like this would happen in the first place with people I am supposed to trust. However, everything was in its place except some clothes that are still missing and my water bottle.

The most bizarre part of the entire experience, in my opinion, was that the night the backpack was missing, someone actually went camping! I suppose they, too, want to camp in luxury. I wonder if they were able to figure out how to use the expedition stove--it can be a bit tricky!

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Tonight, Jared and I are going to Papagayo, the hosteria Eran also owns, South of Quito for a crazy Israeli party. In the morning, eight of us are attempting to scale Corazon (Heart) which is over 15,500´ high (taller than Mt. Rainer in Washington)! If all goes well on the mountain, I will begin training to guide the massive volcano within the next month, which is another dream come true. Of course, I will keep everyone posted!

Have a great weekend and thank you, as always, for the e-mails.

Till next time!

Wow! My brain hurts!

2005-09-07T08:14:00.000-05:00

This week (yes, it is only Wednesday) has been extremely challenging for me since I last wrote as I am working at my new job at Gulliver Travels and trying to learn all of the necessary ropes. My job is fantastically diverse. In addition to the regular responsibilities of selling packages and helping tourists plan their vacations, I am in charge of the internal accounting (thank you Dad for those six months in the accounting office at the shop!), monthly reports, all bank activities, the computers, and external relations with equipment companies. Wow!

My trainer´s last day is officially tomorrow, so I have just today and tomorrow to finish solidifying all of the information in my mind, which has me slightly nervous. However, already since last Friday I have learned a bucket full and have faith everything will work out. Besides, Chris, my trainer, was a professional accountant in England for four years before moving here, so I am learning some great techniques for producing accounting matrices, reports, etc.

In other news... Jared and I found an apartment! Yesterday, while I was working, Jared followed up on some leads I had been given before he arrived. The first place was one of those that makes you squirm and think to yourself, "Errrr.....I suppose this could work...." However, after Jared visited the second place, he returned all smiles and very excited, "Audie, it´s perfect." Wooohooo!

Our place is fully furnished, four blocks from my work right in the heart of the action, has two bedrooms (one small bedroom for guest complete with a bed and then our room with two double beds), a full separate kitchen, a complete living room and, the best of all, an outside sitting area with a garden. We already put down a guarantee to secure our places and can move in the 20th of this month. Woohooo!

Well, I have to run to work. I hope everyone is doing very well at home despite the high gas prices. Living in two cities now with amazing public transportation systems definitely has made me wish we had the population density in Boise to enjoy such a luxury. I love the bus and trolley system in Quito as it places me within two blocks of anywhere I want to go for only $.25 each way and the buses run every ten minutes. Good stuff.

Anyway, till next time!

Living Large

2005-09-05T07:42:00.000-05:00

Yesterday marks a high point in my life both literally and figuratively (explained later). On Saturday, Eran from Gulliver Travel asked me to come along for Sunday´s tour offer: a train ride through the Avenue of the Volcanoes, a hike up past the refugio of Cotopaxi and then a hair raising mountain bike down the sides of the world´s tallest, most active snow-capped volcano!

I was so excited Saturday night, I could hardly sleep. Not to mention, I still, in my budgeting mentality, have not bought an alarm clock, therefore I was petrified I would not wake before the requisite 6:00 am. After I went to bed at 9:00 pm as soon as I returned home from work, I woke every hour or so to check the clock starting at 11:00 pm! By 5:30 am, I simply couldn´t wait any further and jumped out of bed with great gusto, much to the chagrin of my dorm mates and headed out to find some filling breakfast before waiting at the office for the other adventurers.

The train ride was fantastic. Everyone sits on top of the old, speeding train as it chugs its way south of Quito through farming communities, Eucalyptus forests and, of course, near the base of Earth´s most perfectly conical shaped volcano: Cotopaxi. As I was the only one from Gulliver on this section of the trip, everyone naturally assumed I was the guide, which lead to some pretty funny--awkward moments as I was pressed for answers about distances, itinerary, etc. However, we arrived without incident at our stop (after I had to ask the conductor three times which stop we were supposed to get off--a great confidence booster for the other travelers!) and was greeted by Eran and our private vehicle transporting the mountain bikes.

When we entered Cotopaxi National Park, we were each struck with extreme beauty of the area. The Park contains a myriad of wildlife, including, wolves, pumas, a high-altitude species of bear, several spectacular large-wing birds and countless smaller animals. It goes without saying that the center of our attention was the humbling, breath-taking form of Cotopaxi with blood red volcanic rock covering the sides half-way up until the jagged edges of the white, crevasse riddled glacier capping the top half of the peak began.

As the highest, most active volcano in the world that has destroyed the surrounding area more than once in recent memory, I find that it is most appropriately named. In Quichua, Cotopaxi means "Throat of Fire" and it does not take an expansive imagination to realize the power lying dormant in the sleeping giant. When Cotopaxi finally blows (predicted in the next few hundred years), it will make Mount Saint Helens look like a firecracker next to a nuclear bomb.

We drove up to the parking lot situated on the sides of the mountain and proceeded to hike up the rigorously steep trail to the refugio mountaineers use the night before their midnight ascent. As a testament to the humbling effect altitude can have when someone is not properly acclimatized or hydrated, out of our group of 8 three had to turn back to the car after less than thirty minutes of hiking. Fortunately, I have been very physically active each day hiking, walking miles upon miles in Quito and have spent close to a month at high altitude. The payoff was noticeable and appreciated. Compared to a few weeks ago, when Alex and I did our moonlight hike up another volcano, I felt fantastic and had little difficulty scrambling above 15,500´.

One of the highlights of the day came shortly after our lunch at the refugio. We traversed our way upwards and across the Giant to the glacier fields. I have read quite a bit of mountaineering literature of which only a few ever fail to mention the spectacular sight and nature of the glaciers complete with crevasses ripping their way through the ancient snow fields giving off an eerie and marvelous aqua-blue glow from the ozone trapped beneath the surface. As we did not have crampons or ice axes, we only ventured around the edges of the glacier. The ice was razor sharp on my bare, frozen hands when I placed them for support to keep from falling and underfoot, the material was naturally slippery. However, with care, we made our way up to a series of ice caves carved into the side of a glacier wall from torrents of water that rush through hidden channels after particularly warm days.

Yet, the main event was still to come! As if snapped from our happy dreams, we each realized our bikes were waiting for a descent and, as such, we literally ran down the mountain to the parking lot (which intelligently terrified several of the guests, but with my lack of depth perception, I didn´t realize the gravity, pun intended, of the situation and flew, feet flinging, down the rocky path).

There is little for me to say about the bike ride other than we descended more than 4,000 vertical feet in less than an hour and a half. At times, it felt as though we were flying with our wheels skipping over the ground with each tiny bump in the way. The entire event passed with only one minor wreck leaving the young woman limping the rest of the day from a bruised thigh. I had the ride of my life with the expansive valley at my feet and Cotopaxi to my back. It was a memory I will not soon forget.

It appears that I will be guiding more of these trips in the future as well as some of the other high-altitude climbs, which is a dream come true. Stay tuned for more happenings soon!

(P.s. Jared arrived last night safely and it is great to have him here. It will take weeks of adjustment for both of us, but I anticipate all will go well. I will write more as time passes on this...)

Another blessing

2005-09-03T10:26:00.000-05:00

Well, I have some more exciting news. On Thursday, I was offered a job at Gulliver Travel, an agency specializing in mountaineering, high-altitude bike riding, cultural tours and more. They even have their own beautiful hacienda nestled between the incredible Cotopaxi and Illanizas mountains south of Quito complete with its own French Chef, horses for multi-day trips and room for twenty-two guests.

Gary, from River People, was actually the person who turned me onto the job. He was visiting Gulliver one morning, as they offer River People´s rafting and jungle combination packages, and heard they needed a person to help run the office. Immediately, Gary suggested to the owner, Eran, that they should hire me. I was blessed to have the other three employees from Gulliver chime in and offer their enthusiasm for the idea as I have worked with them on a nearly daily basis for the past month and they have a solid sense of my personality and skills that I could offer.

At first, I was slightly weary of the idea as my primary loyalty is with Gary and his family in Tena. They have been amazing for me and helped me out in numerous ways. Besides, I simply love working for River People and the freedom that comes with that job. However, as Gary pointed out, working for Gulliver could be a win-win-win for them, River People and me. At Gulliver, I would receive a monthly salary more than adequate to live on, plus commissions for each sale I make. At the same time, I can promote River People through the agency and hopefully get more clients to venture to Tena.

With Gary´s blessing and the allure of being able to help at the hacienda with the horses, learn how to mountaineer and, as Eran offered, become a guide for some of the mountains later this year, which is a dream come true, I accepted the position and started work yesterday putting in close to 15 hours between the two jobs.

As I spoke with Eran, my dream is not to work in the office each day, but to get down to Papagayo (the hacienda south of Quito) and work their in addition to helping groups on Cotopaxi, Corazon, Illaniza, etc. In which case, it may be possible to get Jared 1/2 to 3/4 time job in the office, which would help him out considerably when he arrives tomorrow. This would also free me up some days of the week to continue to focus on River People and all of the marketing, meetings and general sales needed there. Plus, I could still go to Tena and get some river time on the weekends and help out with the trips there.

Of course, all of this is projection. I will have to see how work progresses the next few weeks, but so far, it appears that I will stay incredibly busy and have a great time doing it! Well, I have to get ready for another day in the office....

Till next time!

And you thought ordering food in another language is scary...

2005-09-01T17:28:00.000-05:00

Today marks a momentous milestone in my time below the equator: I got a haircut. Let me first state that I have been postponing this adventure for more than a month as I have been terrified of what might happen in a Barber Shop. However, after I received a letter from the Ministry of Environment threatening that the local congress was considering making my head a Natural Wildlife Refuge, "because we have reason to believe you are harboring endangered animals in that tangle of a mess," (all in Spanish of course) I decided it was time to be courageous and face the inevitable music.

As I walked down the streets of Quito, I kept my eyes peeled for the perfect place. Nothing too dirty, too frilly, too...anything really. All I wanted was a good ´ol fashion Barber Shop were men reminisce about the times before punk kids, rock and roll and bad haircuts. You know the type.

Well, it just so happened that I stumbled into this hole in the wall place with decor bordering fifty years old. Perfect. It also happened that I entered the most expensive place I had visited yet, another reassuring bonus. Without delay, I jumped into the nearest chair and proceeded to describe my ideal cut ´n wax: similar to Elvis, but with more spunk, like Ringo. This got me no where, so I settled on my classic style (except Fantastic Sams in Caldwell always seemed to butcher my request) number 3 on the sides, 5 on top with a smooth transition between the two--oh yeah, leave the ´burns´ as I am trying to grow a beard.

Needless to say, Raphael and I hit it off right from the start. When it came time to do the fine trimming, he turned off the razor, picked up a pair of scissors and started using them as furiously as he chewed his gum. The immaculately dressed and styled man almost broke a sweat working through the jungle on my neck, but due to his continued and appreciated persistence he finally prevailed showing me the back of my head with a giant mirror. "That´s nice, real nice."

So, with this experience under my belt I figure I can tackle anything. I have been able to order food with no idea what I am getting without dying, taking hundreds of bus journeys without incident and now, survived my first haircut. What more could I need?

Tonight, after I fill my belly and call my mother, I will have to graciously decline the Ministry of Environment for their offer to make my head into a National Park. Gracias, pero no gracias.

"Swim, Audie! Swim!"

2005-08-30T19:51:00.000-05:00

Hmmm...not exactly the most comforting words to hear after flipping my kayak in an enormous rapid today. Of course, Alex had cause to be excited, for just ahead there was an ever large and longer rapid train caught between two sheer rock walls, which make a sharp turn causing the water to do all sorts of funky maneuvers.

Needless to say, the Dent Family has a sick, but likable sense of humor. This morning, after waking quite early from my slight slumber on the office floor to run the café, Alex arrived with all of our kayak gear and within minutes the Canadian couple taking the four day course followed. I was not particularly focused on the upcoming days events as I thought we were going to spend most of it on a small, Class II river near Tena. Noooo, not so! Alex gleefully (that´s the sick part) proclaiming with radiating eyes that we were going to the Class III+ Jatun Yacu! (If you remember from previous posts, "Jatun Yacu" means "Big Water" in Quichua and it is appropriately named.)

I was nearly ill from the thought of it and realized I was not all at mentally prepared for the upcoming challenges. However, I climbing into the taxi truck with the others and together, in silence, we steadily made our way through the tangle of jungle roads and emerged at a bridge spanning the "Big Water". We hauled all of our gear down to the water´s edge and began a stretching routine to warm our muscles in preparation for a long day of physical and mental exertion.

Soon, we were gliding across a tranquil pool heading for our first series of rapids. I felt shaky in my boat, which was due more to my own fear than the equipment and no more than thirty feet through the white-water, I hit a large rock, felt the front of my boat leave the water, twist in mid-air and flip. Out of sheer panic, I pulled the release cord of my kayak skirt and kicked my way out of the boat. Naturally, I forgot one of the most basic tenants of white-water travel: open your eyes and look around before taking your first breath. I felt my head break the surface of the raging water and GULP! I swallowed a lungful of the "fun" stuff! Wow, what a rush!

Next, I felt my body slam into two large rocks taking the skin off three of my toes. Still desperately trying to take a full lung full of air, but failing miserably because of the already full space, I felt my body go over the crest of a large wave, into the lull and then over another crest. This pattern repeated itself for what felt like ages, but in reality lasted no more than two minutes. Finally, exhausted (yes, I was only ten minutes into a seven hour trip) I swam to shore and laid there for some time coughing up the river´s possession. Alex arrived slightly amused and after asking me the obligatory guide/friend question, "Are you alright?" excitedly announced, "That was great! Trust me, I know how you feel. During guide training, we make the guides swim through every single rapid series on the river before getting their license, so they know the potential risks and what the panic the clients feel."

The following hours proceeded much better and I realized that while my fear is healthy and warranted, I cannot let it paralyze me into in-action. So, I focused on my paddle strokes, edging well, reading the river, etc and the ride was much more smooth and a complete blast! In the end, I only swam one more time (the last rapid series--great way to start and end my day!), but experienced a ton of white-water adrenaline. I could not have a better, more understanding coach than Alex. He knows every inch of the river as he has been on it for over twelve years and he can handle a kayak better than most guides I have seen.

However, despite all of the above, perhaps my favorite moments on the water came as we were still an hour away from the take out. Keep in mind, we are in the middle of the jungle--there is only one take-out. Anyway, a massive storm rushed in from the side and the black thunderheads made their arrival known with enormous bolts of lightning and deafening, rolling thunder less than two seconds after strike. If this site alone was awe-inspiring and frightening enough, the gust of wind that ensued most certainly was! We tucked our heads and forced our tired bodies to paddle for all they were worth. Seeing an entire jungle canopy sway to and fro was a sight that is indescribable by words and should be experienced first-hand.

After a bit of rain and continued antics, the storm died down and we outran the last bits of it. All in all, it was a spectacular day full of many lessons--not only about the river, but about my threshold of fear and the trust required between fellow boaters. I am sad to head back to Quito in the morning, but I know I will return within two weeks for another few days of river excitement and practice.

I hope you enjoyed reading about this experience. Without a doubt, there will be many more like it, with new and unique twists and turns.

Be safe and remember, "Kids, don´t try this at home..."

Hooray, ¡More photos! and a wild translation project.

2005-08-29T20:49:00.000-05:00

After much abated breath and anticipation, photos are here! Click on the link below to explore the world of Tena, the Amazon Jungle and some rafting trips I have had the pleasure of tagging along.

http://www.kodakgallery.com/AlbumMenu.jsp?&cm_sp=t_View*na*na (More photos and descriptions to come in the next few days...It took over 2.5 hours and a small fortune just to download these)

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Today, I was supposed to go kayaking on the Tena River, but I was awakened at 6:00 am this morning by a phone call from Gary explaining the complications of the day. The long and short of it is, we had all our guides on the river and no one to handle the office (a good head-ache to have!). So, I volunteered to stay behind and handle the daily routine of passer-bys, breakfast eaters and the oh-so-fun Spanish calls. The calls in particular are the best for a variety of reasons. We are located on Tena busiest road (two whole lanes!) and all of the extremely loud inter-city buses and construction vehicles pass by our office doors. So, without fail, everytime a phone call comes through the office starts to shake, light bulbs flail around and my ears are filled with the defening sound of a twenty-ton truck passing by without a muffler. Good times. I actually get to blame my lack of understanding on the noise instead of the more factual claim that I have a hard time understanding Spanish.

My main task for the day besides sweeping the office (Dad, you should be proud) was rather humerous. You see, when we were in Quito I spent two weeks designing a variety of marketing materials--everything from five-foot high banners, posters and flyers to program descriptions. Anyway, we bought one banner and have had such success with it in hostals and travel agencies that we wanted another. So, in exchange for the banner, Fenix, the publicity company, offered to give us the banner for free if we were willing to translate a eight page brochure for the Ministry of Tourism for one of the local provinces. As Gary left the office today we casually mandated over his shoulder, "Oh and Audie, would you mind translating that brochure for me today, so we can get the banner this week?" Funny Gary, funny.

So, with due diligence and three cups of black-berry ice-tea I set out to do a professional job of translating. The only problem with the situation is(if it isn´t already obvious), I have only studied Spanish for two and a half months. Hmmm, details, details.... No importa! The first page was rather rudimentary--area of the province, political divisions, climate, blah, blah, blah. However, the second page offered a few more difficulties. For starters, the page was offering background information on the seven ethnicities that live in Prastaza Provencía: Kichwa, Achuar, Shuar, etc. Instead of offering a direct word-for-word translation, I thought I would try and pull a William Tyndale (who offered one of the first poetic translations of the Bible) and give the text a more fluid feel. Wow, was that interesting! When I reached portions of the Spanish I couldn´t understand or sections that seemed to be lacking information, I simply made up info and placed in smack in the middle of the "official" goods. Hahahaha. Just think, tens of thousands of tourists will be reading my own thoughts on the rituals of the Amazon people. Scary fun. (A note for the worried and mortified: I did not significantly add to or alter the existing information. However, the weight of the task required a bit of free-styling ink to paper.)

Tomorrow, I am hopefully going to be kayaking on the Tena River and then, on Wednesday, it is back to Quito to sell, sell, sell. Until next time....

Death and Iridescent Butterflies

2005-08-28T20:41:00.000-05:00

Today was a sobering reminder that the Amazon jungle and its rivers that are the very representation of life also can also play a part in death. A German family was rafting on the Class III Jatun Yacu with another company run by locals and at some point during their river run this afternoon, the raft flipped and the 40 something-year old father drowned. When we arrived at the office this evening jubilant from our phenomenal day on the Jondachi--Hollin river the owner of the other company was waiting to speak with Gary as he is the Vice-President of the Guides Association in Ecuador. We were stunned to hear the news, especially in consideration that the Jatun Yacu, while filled with monster waves, is actually a very safe river due to the fact there are few rocks to bang into. Most people who fall out of a raft can swim through the rapids with little adverse consequences. However, as today showed, regardless of how safe a river is, there is always a risk of potential harm and, in extreme cases, fatal mistakes.

Anyway, within hours tonight the owner and some of the guides began packing up the office to close it down. When we walked by a few minutes ago, the wife and son of the deceased man were in the office shell-shocked trying to make sense of what happened. My heart broke as I tried to imagine what they were feeling. As tourists to another country in an already foreign environment to be in the middle of the awe-inspiring jungle and to lose a loved one on what was supposed to be a fun outing for the day is difficult, if not impossible, for me to comprehend...

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Our trip today (before hearing about the news) was simply amazing. We had perfect weather, great water levels on the river, fun clients and more rapids than I can count. It was one of those magical days in the jungle where the sun casts its hot rays through the dense canopies of trees and brush to create holographic images as we slogged our way through knee high deep mud, in parts, to the river.

It seems so futile to try and describe what we experienced as I sit in an air-conditioned (one of the few buildings in Tena to have air conditioning) internet cafe--the sights we saw: the infinitely varied species of trees jetting up from the clay based soil, rocks the size of houses covered in centuries old moss resting in the middle of the river creating monster rapids and even larger mortal holes behind where the water rushes to replace the displaced current or the sounds we heard: parrots conversing to each other with loud, high pitched sqawks, a indistinguishable number of different buzzes and clicking sounds made from bugs microscopicly small to the size of your hand, the spray of waterfalls emerging from the side of canyon walls and falling to the river below as mist.

Perhaps the best way to share my sentiments from the day on the river is to offer a visual description of one part of the journey. About two-thirds of the way down the 40 km stretch of the river, after the Jondachi joins the Hollin, which descends from the nearby Sumaco Volcano, and becomes one large river there are numerous waterfalls cascading through the fertile gorge walls on either side of the river. At one point, as we passed through a large, calm pool, we passed a particularly stunning waterwall blocked from sight by a large boulder until we were directly adjacent to it. Flying around the enormous boulder were 30 or so iridescent, yellow butterflies. There flight pattern appeared chaotic at first until further observation revealed they were creating a globe by flying in large circles around each other.

The sight of the butterflies and waterfall alone was breathtaking, but to complement the scene were three rainbows stacked on top of each other each weaving its way through the mists emitted from the cascading water. It was a sight I never hope to forget. Framed below by the powerful Hollin river and on top and the sides by the impossibly green jungle, the moss covered boulder, yellow butterflies, waterfall and rainbows represented the bountiful life the Amazon jungle sustains on the same day it claimed a life.

Sunburned to a perfect crisp!

2005-08-27T18:54:00.000-05:00

¡Hello from Tena!

I cannot express how great it feels to be out of Quito and back into the steamy jungle. This morning, after I woke up from sleeping on the hard office floor, I opened the doors and was greeted by the lush green foliage lining the Tena River banks. Even the humidity feels refreshing and my skin is starting to regain its luster from the environment. As we drove into Tena last night with the newly repaired Toyota Land Cruiser, I felt as if I were arriving home once again.

Today, Alex, his wife, two Canadians and I spent the day kayaking the Tena River. The water was quite refreshing and, as four of us are novices, we had plenty of opportunity to swim in it when we flipped our kayaks! For the first half of the day, I experienced a major mental block and was actually afraid of the river, flipping over, etc. It was strange as I learned how to roll two weeks before and thought I would have more confidence than then, not less. However, perhaps it was due to the fact that I was using a bulky, old kayak made for creek-style runs and a funky left-handed paddle that made the trip less than sure.

My use of the left-handed paddle in particular must have been a site to see. Let me explain. Kayak paddles have a rod between the two blades. The blades are not in direct alignment with each other and are rotated on the handle anywhere from 10 to 45 degrees depending on the paddle style. So, your right hand maintains a firm grasp on the entire paddle and as you stroke on the right side, you grip the paddle firmly. Then, as you arc the paddle over to stroke on the left side, you rotate your right wrist and left the rod rotate through your loose right hand before placing it in the water to ensure the entire face of the blade make proper contact as you propel yourself. Over time, even a few hours, this "flicking" of the paddle becomes quite natural--to the point you do not even have to think about it anymore. Anyway, on a left-handed paddle the blades are rotated in the opposite direction, so I had to rotate my wrist 180 degrees in the opposite direction! Good fun! The result was ugly to feel and worse to watch. My right stroke was nice and strong, but I could not get the proper angle with my left stroke and therefore all I seemed to be able to do well was turn circles to the left! Weeee!!!

Three of us in the school were able to roll today, which is an astoundingly high percentage. It was such a confidence booster to go over, calm the chattering monkeys in my mind, then hip-snap my way to freedom. After our roll practice, we amused ourselves by playing a game of kayak tag through the tranquil pools. It would be hard to imagine a better way to spend my afternoon.

Tomorrow, I am going on the Jondachi--Hollin Class IV river trip with thirteen others. It has been raining this afternoon (if you can call it "raining" in the jungle--more like an entire ocean being drained over the area in a matter of minutes...) and the rivers will be quite high and raging. I have seen photos of this particular river when it is high and now I am beginning to question whether this was a good idea. Needless to say, the rapids can go from being large to terrifying with a little additional rain. More stories to follow soon...

Jared arrives on Saturday in Guayaquil and I imagine he will make it to Quito by Sunday. I am so excited to have him arrive as it will ease some of the hardships of living alone in Quito. Having a partner in crime is always advisable and it seems hard to believe I have made it over two months without a consistent travel partner. Thank goodness I had my friends from Cuenca: Rich, Jenny and Maura. They were invaluable in helping me adjust to life away from home.

Well, I must run. I hope to post a lot of photos of Tena and the rivers later this week when I return to Quito (probably Wednesday, but possibly Thursday). Till then!

An action packed day!

2005-08-25T22:43:00.000-05:00

Wow. What a day! I awoke feeling much better today, except for being up several hours night with a terrible stomach ache from some food I ate for dinner, and feeling ready for another go at everything. Gary and I were up at 6:30 am and walking around the town by 7:30 am looking for a vehicle to buy. In fact, this morning was not the first time we have been looking for either a large van to transport people from Quito to Tena or a double cab pick-up for the same purpose, with the additional use of hauling rafts to-from the river in Tena. By 10:00 am, we were both exhausted after walking close to 10 miles at this altitude. We were a bit discouraged when we arrived at the office to meet Alex. However, Gary and Alex went to run some errands, while I headed to the infamous Internet café across the street to continue working on more marketing materials for travel agencies.

Before lunch, Alex and I had a fantastic meeting with one of the original mountaineers and kayakers in Ecuador. Freddy is a local who naturally commands the respect of everyone who enters his office. Now, after his glory years as an adventurer, he runs a hotel and travel agency in Quito and wants to create a business relationship with River People to send his clients into the jungle for our multi-day jungle-rafting packages. He was impressed with the package I put together, which was quite the complement considering it was coming from a local river legend himself. It will be interesting to see how the relationship pans out over the next couple of months.

A bit later, we sold our four day kayak school to a young Canadian couple for this weekend through Tuesday. The best part about it is, I get to do the school with them as part of my training to get me ready to become a guide later this fall (spring time here!). I am so excited to get back on the river in a kayak and spend four days training.

This afternoon, we received a call that a Toyota Land Cruiser we had been looking at was available for sale for a great price. We immediately went and looked at it and, after test driving it, bought it on the spot. It was rather exciting as it is the first vehicle River People has ever purchased! We drove around Quito like Kings in our new, used wheels. A mechanic checked it over and gave it a thumbs up. With his stamp of approval, we planned to drive to Tena tomorrow morning.

To make a long story short, I went back to my hostel for the night while Gary and Alex headed in the new vehicle to Alex´s house in the Southern Valley of Quito. However, within thirty minutes of their departure Alex shows up in my hostel. He immediately explained that the Land Cruiser´s engine was making strange noises. Of course! We sped the couple of blocks to the vehicle on foot and proceeded to try and determine the problem. After trying numerous "fixes" we finally gave up and called the same mechanic at his home and asked him to come listen to the engine himself. Graciously he consented and two hours later he determined that there is piece of loose metal between the number one piston and the head case. Wooohooo--sounds like fun! We called a tow truck and will see the prognoses in the morning after they tear apart the engine.

Fortunately Gary, Alex and I were able to laugh about the experience. While we waited for the mechanic we went to a nearby café and, in typical Irish fashion, lamented over a cold beer. As soon as we sat down the song, "Like a Bridge Over Trouble Water..." came over the radio. We laughed and laughed and, again in typical Irish Fashion, determined that the cerveza (beer) we were drinking was actually the punta (bridge). I find this rather fitting considering the circumstances. Oh well, tomorrow, we will be in Tena and I will enjoy my four days on the river.

In other news, one of the travel agencies we work extensively with tentatively offered me a part time job! Gary and I talked it over and we are both excited at the prospects of me working there. For one, it would give me a bit more stable income while also giving me the opportunity to experience other adventure activities that the company offers in Ecuador, such as climbing Cotopaxi, horse-back riding in the Andean Valleys, perhaps going to Galapagos Islands, etc. And, for River People, it would be great as it would solidify the relationship between the travel agency and River People. Who knows... On Saturday I am supposed to call the owner and speak with him further. For me, the ideal would be to wake up early and open the office and then work till 12:00 pm or so each day and then go run the River People office and spend my afternoons meeting with other travel agencies, doing direct sales in hostels, designing marketing packages, etc. Personally, I think it would be the best of both worlds. I will see how the conversation goes with Eran on Saturday. I will keep everyone posted!

Enough for today. I will write more from Tena. Cheers!

One tough day...

2005-08-24T20:01:00.000-05:00

Hola Friends and Family,

Today was one tough day. For starters, I was tired this morning after staying up late last night giving the same information about Tena, rafting, blah, blah, blah to three different groups of travelers. Of course, I was grateful for the opportunity to help them out with their travel plans and, in the process, make potential sales. However, after spending all day at travel agencies and running around Quito with its thin air, I was wiped. Anyway, this morning I received an e-mail from a lost love that threw me for a loop. As I sat in the Internet café reading her e-mail, I realized just how much I still care for her. I would not be doing this trip right now if we were still together and the irony of the situation is overwhelming.

Afterwards, I spent close to 3.5 hours designing more marketing material for River People, including writing package descriptions for the travel agencies as well as for a five day exposition we will be represented at in Japan. Everything was going well, I was focused and producing some attractive materials, when it was time for lunch. I checked with the attendant of the café to ensure I could leave my saved work and return to finish it in the afternoon and then burn it to CD from the hard-drive. " No problema!"

When I returned from lunch to continue with the six to eight hours of additional work, I found that my files had disappeared from the hard-drive I had saved them on! He claimed there was a power outage that erased them, but I still don´t understand how if something is saved can be erased by a power outage. Needless to say, I was upset at all of the lost work and my tiredness didn´t help the situation. I stood up to leave and take a breather when I heard a voice behind me (en Español), "Do you speak English? I need help translating a letter." Desperately needing something positive, as I was still reeling from the morning e-mail, computer failure, etc I went over to his computer glad to be of service.

Boy was I in for a cheery suprise! I read the e-mailed letter once silently and then had to proceed to this eager young man that he had been rejected from the British University located in Ecuador he applied to attend. Cheers mate. He was crestfallen and I didn´t feel much better. He kept asking me, "¿ En serio? ¿Segurdo?"

"Yeah amigo, I am serious. Nope, still not joking... I know, I know--it isn´t good. I am sorry it didn´t work out."

It seems I was due for another lesson in humility. Gracias a Díos!

No worries. Tomorrow is a new day. Besides, Friday evening I will be back "home" in Tena for the weekend spending some time on the river either kayaking or helping with the two rafting trips we are running. I am greatly looking forward to the change of scenery from Quito and the chance to learn more about guiding.

Gary and I discussed it a bit and he is fine with the idea of me offering my services to one of the travel agencies we work with most in Quito. They offer every type of trip imaginable from climbing Cotopaxi, horse-back riding and trekking to trips to the Galapagos. I will see if I can pick up some additional work with them as either a guide´s assistant or simply grunt laborer. Anything to make a bit of extra money and see the country while I am working. Besides, I enjoy working in the tourist sector. I get to meet some very interesting people from all over the world and share in their experiences.

Enough for tonight. Hasta pronto!

I have an address!

2005-08-23T18:02:00.000-05:00

Wooohooo! Today, after work, I found the nearest post office in Quito and proceeded to set up a post-office box! Hooray!

Actually, the whole event was rather funny. He spoke a different accent than I am used to and this combined with my exceptional Royal Spanish made the whole exchange rather interesting. It is normally a requirement to produce a passport to check for appropriate visas and to get the necessary information. However, I was able to assure him (falsely so--I only have a tourist visa) that everything was in order. And, when he asked for my passport number, I made up the best sounding 9 digit number I could think of without blinking (I have no idea if they even are 9 digits--Yikes!). Oh well, all is well that ends well.

Oh, I almost forgot! My address! If you would like to write me, use the following format:

Joseph "Audie" Black

17-07-8956

Quito, Ecuador

I would love to receive a letter or two. Otherwise, it will be rather sad when I send myself mail, just so do not always walk out of the post-office empty handed in front of my new friend!

Other news...I have been very busy at work. Several travel agencies are now selling River People and our packages of which I get 5% commission for every one of their sales. Already today, one agency sold a group from Switzerland for our 4 day combined jungle-river package. So, with this extra source of revenue, I feel a bit more sure about being able to live in Quito and only work for this one company and not have to teach as well. Also, I sold two more packages today from hustling business in hostals and in the office with two more pending my meeting later tonight.

This weekend I am planning on going to Tena to get a few days on the river and spend time with the "family". I am going a bit stir-crazy in the city knowing what awe-inspiring environment awaits me only five hours away. Needless to say, I could live in the jungle for quite some time and be perfectly happy. It is something you have to experience to believe possible.

Well, I hope all is well on the home front. As always, thank you for the incredible support--I must be the most blessed traveler in all of the world.

With love,

Audie

¿Is this tuna? A rather pointless, but certainly enjoyable, post on my evening frequents.

2005-08-22T19:43:00.000-05:00

So, I have this café cerca de mi hostal (I am having the hardest time NOT thinking in Spanish, as I have been forcing myself to think in it all day--yikes!) that I like to frequent. You could say, that after going there three days in a row, I am a bit of a regular... you could say that--I wouldn´t, but it is possible. Anyhow, enough antics. The owner is a stout man with a smile that could put anyone at ease. He is about 5´5" and wears his white hair exceptionally well. His name is Jorge (pronounced Hor-Hay en Español) and he offers a myriad of items on his white-board menu, all fairly priced. It is possible to order any type of food or drink as long as it is either a sanduche (yep, that´s "sandwhich") or an alcoholic drink.

Tonight, I was feeling a bit adventurous and in the mood for...wait for it.....wait....¡a sanduche! and therefore, quite naturally, ordered a Tuna Fish Sandwich. Now, before I digress further, let it be known that in all the time I have known Jorge and his quaint café, I have never been disappointed in either the food or the service (both done by the same person--Jorge) and tonight was no exception. The sanduche arrived on a foot-long piece of hard bread, which he very well could have, if Jorge wasn´t a man of integrity, charged extra for as a little European experience. Sandwiched (pun most certainly intended) between the ´could be sold as European bread´ was a fantastic mix of precisely two pieces of lettuce, three strands of onion, three large slices of tomato (I forgot to tell Jorge I do not like this particular fruit of the earth) and, por supuesto, chunks of white meat known world-round as "Tuna" (Actually, it is called different names in different languages. For instance, in Spanish, it is called Atún, which if you speak Spanish makes perfect sense). The point being, I was quite pleased with my choice of ordering a sandwich in the café owned by Jorge and before taking a bite, I seemed to have continued this dashing success by ordering the famed sanduche de Atún.

After peeling the three large red slices of tomato complete with green centers and yellow seeds off my sanduche, I took my first bite. The hard outer crust of the European-styled bread nearly cut my lip, but I persisted with famished ferocity until my taste buds sensed the first bit of Atún. "Wow," I thought aloud, "is this really Atún?"

You see, the problem was not with the consistency of our dolphin related carne del día, but rather the unbelievably overpowering lemon juice the fish was previously soaked in prior to my order. In this way, the sandwich was actually a ceviche. For those interested in culinary knowledge, ceviche is raw fish marinated in either lemon juice or lime juice in order to prevent the raw fish from spoiling in the open air. Rest assured, my Atún was not spoiled, nor could it have been even if it so desired. Perhaps Jorge should refer to this sanduche as "Lemon Sandwhich flavored with a hint of Tuna". Given the length of this name and its European styled bread, Jorge could charge double for this delectable gem.

Fortunately for me, the lemon cauterized the open wounds left by the hard-crusted foot-long piece of bread, so I will not have to worry about visiting a pharmacy later.

In short, I look forward to frequenting Jorge´s café tomorrow. Perhaps then I will try another sanduche and enjoy its savory flavors.

A wild bus adventure, Quito´s Old Town and Catacombs...

2005-08-21T12:49:00.000-05:00

This morning I was feeling a little blue. Alone in Quito with little purpose on the weekend as almost all life stops in the Mariscal section, affectionately known as "Gringo-landia". Determined to not waste the day moping around in my hostel, I decided to venture into the Old Town of Quito where plazas flanked by colonial cathedrals and cultural interests seem to appear ever few blocks in either direction. But, I did not want to arrive in the traditional fashion and so, I walked a few blocks north from my hostel and made the carefully planned choice to take a random bus and hope it was heading in the direction I wanted. After all, what adventure starts with the correct bus? None!

Well, as you can probably tell, the bus I chose (it happened to be the first one that stopped) did not take me into the old town. Rather, within forty minutes, I found myself high on the hill side of the local volcano, Pinchincha, in a very poor borreo (neighborhood). Trash was carried down the steep hills by spurts of wind, which also brought the good tidings of pungent raw sewage. The scene was fairly typical of most borreos I have witnessed thorough Ecuador. The houses were guarded by poorly constructed walls topped with glass bottles that had been pushed into the still-wet concrete and then broken after the mixture had cured resulting in an effective, razor sharp barrier against night time intruders. Seeing the sunlight glint off the thousands of pieces of broken glass sticking out of the tops of of walls as the bus sped by reminded me how fortunate I have been to grow up in Boise, Idaho, where it is still possible to leave your front door unlocked at night.

When we finally reached the top of the borreo the bus stopped and I was asked to get off as this was the last stop. Hmmmm. I was miles and miles away from "home", had no real clue where I was other than the spotting of familiar landmarks in the distant horizon and I was feeling too stubborn to ask for directions. ¿What to do? Take another bus!

This time, we drove around the perimeter of Quito proper and before long I saw sights that indicated I was close to the Old Town. At one point I had a panic attack that perhaps, if I did not get off soon, the bus would take me 500 miles south to Peru! With flashbacks of my horrendously long bus ride from Lima, Peru to Guayaquil, Ecuador haunting me, I quickly pressed the red button proclaiming " Pare" and jumped off. Never mind the fact that this was a city bus restricted to the confines of the concrete jungle! My hasty and irrational decision turned out to be divinely inspired. After walking up relentlessly steep streets my eyes feasted on the sight of a huge plaza filled with local artists´ paintings, bands and the requisite massive cathedral flanking the square.

Without purpose, I wandered the cobble stone pathways and entered a museum with a vinyl sign mandating, "Prohibido Olvidar Abril 2005!" (Don´t forget April 2005). Enticing! It turns out the museum was presenting artifacts from the recent riots in Quito demanding the overthrow of the President. The videos and copies of newspapers were sobering. Several hundred people were killed during the protest by riot police, streets set ablaze by protesters or being trampled by the swarms of demonstrators. I left with the reminder frequently reiterated in guide books to not attend political demonstrations.

Still thinking about the images of people being burned alive, I worked my way up more streets surpassing 40 degrees, nestled between looming colonial buildings housing various shops, apartments and hotels. Earlier, on the bus (that may have been going to Peru had I not used my quick wits to jump off well beforehand!), I saw an enormous cathedral built with gray, soot covered stone with two magnificent towers stretching skyward. Now, as I reached the crest of the hill, the same cathedral stood in front of me making me feel about the size of an ant. (I think that is actually the purpose of cathedrals...to remind people of their humble positions on Earth) Music from the mass occurring inside poured out onto the vacant streets and guided me, like the Pied Piper, to the right side of the holy structure. About half way down the side, a massive opening appeared and led to the basement of the cathedral. Naturally, with my youthful curiosity, I ventured inside the gaping hole and was ushered into another world...

A sign declaring, "Yo soy la resurreccion y la vida!" ("I am the resurrection and the life!") was painted in black ink above an archway leading to a series of Catacumbas (Catacombs) containing the bodies of faithful followers. I was simply stunned as I have never seen anything quite like it before. Each section of the dark catacomb was named after a particular saint from Catholic History. Picture a bee hive, with little cells, each containing a different piece of pollen. These catacombs were exactly the same. Stretching from floor to ceiling and wall to wall were square or rectangular holes, some positioned lengthwise and others width wise, that contained the caskets of the deceased. Sealing the individual holes were stone capings similar to our version of headstones.

A person could spend a lifetime doing an anthropological study of these infinitely varied headstones. Within a millisecond it was possible to determine which socio-economic class the entombed person belonged to. For instance, some were gilded in gold and silver with ornate decorations filling the space between the stone and thick plexi-glass that protected the expensive objects. There were, of course, headstones representing the other end of the socio-economic spectrum as well. One in particular caught my eye. The hole was sealed with shoddy plaster work and the person´s name with a picture of a pious follower praying to the heavens was carefully depicted on the crumbling plaster with mere highlighter. Accompanying this humble headstone was a single silk rose with the stem drooping under the weight of the red bud.

After perusing row after row of the catacombs, I stumbled upon a sanctuary that seemed impossible to believe. There, deeper in the basement, was a small chapel flanked by 420 graves. There were simply wooden rows to seat the attendees of the masses and in the front of the deathly chapel stood an altar with a large cross and statue of Jesus looming above. It is hard to imagine attending a special mass in this place.

Without delaying more than necessary, I exited the chapel and started to work my way through the maze to the street-side exit. However, as I passed through the various sections of the catacomb, a man pushing a large ladder rushed toward me. The deafening squawk of the loose wheels seemed irreverent, but the gentlemen paid no attention as he hurriedly continued. Shaking it off as nothing more than a typical bizarre experience in Latin America, I proceeded. But, as I neared the door, the hallways of the catacomb in front of me were filled with mourners dressed in black suites and dresses slowly, as if in denial, working there way deeper into the cavern. In front were the pallbearers carrying a beautiful wooden casket and a Catholic Priest accompanied the procession. I immediately felt out of place and stood off to the side and watched in silent awe as the hundred or so people followed their deceased loved one. It was then that the purpose of the man hurriedly pushing the screeching metal ladder became clear. The casket was destined to reside high up the catacomb walls in one of the remaining empty honeycombed spots.

The entire experience was simply incredible. The rest of my walk home was spent thinking about what I just witnessed and I have little doubt this day will serve as a main memory when I leave Latin America in the future. I hope you appreciate this experience, even though only in written form, as much as I did.

Till next time!

Thin air

2005-08-20T15:52:00.000-05:00

Last night, after work, Alex and I headed out of town towards his house in the valley south of Quito, where he lives with his wife, daughter and mother in-law. We were both bubbling with excitement at the prospect of doing a night hike up a nearby eroded volcano towering in the center of the valley overlooking Quito and the suburbs from 1,000 meters higher than the surrounding land. The moon was nearly full, if not completely full, and the skies blessed us by remaining crystal clear.

Our food preparations were simple and terribly foolish, reminding us both that we are still in our young twenties. Meaning, we had set our sights on matters adventure more than practicalities. Our Supermaxi cart contained the following food items (in order of importance): a bottle of Cuban rum, 3 liters of Coca-Cola, ten chocolate candy bars, fried banana chips coated in jalapeno powder (we are in Ecuador after all--bananas are requisite at every event, except Sunday Mass), 2 apples, 2 oranges, box of creamy-tasting crackers, 2 cans of tuna fish to spread on the creamy-tasting crackers, six sausages, three packets of quick-cook noodles containing a wonderful packet of spicy reddish goo and a gallon of water.

After readying our gear at Alex´s house, we heading out to the base of the volcano. When we were dropped off by Alex´s wife, who was mortified at our plan to hike five hours in the middle of the night, in the rutted parking lot of a beautiful little chapel set slightly higher than the valley lights below, we discovered we did not have a flash light. "Oh well," we thought, "the moon will guide our ascent." And, indeed it did! At points during our upward venture, I had to squint the moon was so bright. Our path was perfectly illuminated, except when we meandered through thick-growth forests complete with dense underbrush, scraggly trees hanging on to precious life in the arid climate and strange noises that most certainly messed with my sense of wit. Nevertheless, after hiking half of the night, we emerged on top of the mountain and were gratefully greeted by a breath-taking sight.

Quito lay quietly in the next valley over at the base of the massive Pinchincha Volcano. To the south, lights from the valley where Alex and about 1 million other people live glittered faithfully adding to the incredible scenery. However, two items dominated the view and caused me to gasp even more than the thin 15,000 feet high air, Cayumbe (a massive, snow capped volcano to the north) and Cotopaxi (the world´s tallest active volcano to the south). They looked majestic in the lunar light bath. Giant crevasses could be seen from our vantage point far away reminded me how treacherous the mountains can be. Cotopaxi has been called the most perfect conical volcano in the world and its equally slanted sides, breaking 50 vertical degrees in parts, testified to this claim. Despite the cold, I could hardly remove myself from the view to return to camp a hundred meters below under the protection of a grove of Eucalyptus trees.

We feasted on Quick-Cook Noodles covered in the Oh-So-Tasty spicy, unidentifiable goo, jalapeno coated banana chips, Doritos and salsa and, por supuesto, Cuban rum. With full bellies we retreated into the tent and prayed for warmth as we slept. In the morning, we hiked down for several hours and celebrated the successful evening of adventure.

Now, I am trying to relax my aching body before meeting Maura for dinner. She just arrived in Quito yesterday after a week on the coast and flies home to Washington D.C. in the morning.

Tomorrow, I plan on exploring the Old Town of Quito which is most renown for its large public squares complete with centuries old cathedrals built in colonial architectural style. Or, I may just take a day to fully rest before hitting the streets again on Monday trying to sell incredible trips in the jungle. Who knows!

Have a great weekend--will write more soon.

Strange times...

2005-08-19T15:29:00.000-05:00

This afternoon, while sitting in the office, an absolutely beautiful young women walked into the World Bike office and directly to my desk. She started the conversation with, "You must be the man from Idaho." Wow! What do you know, I am! We ended up talking for quite a while and let´s just say that if I didn´t have a job, I would have been on the afternoon bus with her heading south to Vilcabamba. These are strange times--strange times indeed.

In many ways, it is almost as if all of us foreigners living in Ecuador are renegades--renegades without a cause. I have met some of the most interesting people who are traveling for extended periods, others who, like me, have picked up and moved and even an occasional person who left their homes decades ago with no thoughts of returning. As expatriates, we are all living in this foreign land straddling the equator scrambling to eek out a living, learn Spanish, assimilate into a new culture and yet still hang on with great ferocity to our own sense of identity. It is quite surreal.

Unfortunately, Alex and I are not able to climb Cotopaxi this weekend due to a variety of factors. However, we will hopefully be able to have another shot in a couple of weeks. So, instead, we are going to do a midnight hike up another volcano as it is nearly a full moon. We are taking my tent and camping equipment and will spend the night suspended over the twinkling lights of Quito below. It should be a great time and I will most certainly write about it later if anything unusual is worth noting.

I must run. I hope everyone has a great weekend.

Hasta pronto!

Audie

My first sale, setting up the office and climbing Cotopaxi

2005-08-17T21:54:00.000-05:00

I just had a rather exciting moment. This afternoon Gary and I picked up some of the marketing materials I designed and had printed. Everything turned out beautifully and we were both excited to see our ideas turned into physical reality. In addition, I had designed several forms to be used in selling multi-day packages or single day trips. Anyway, tonight, at the wild hostel, I was approached by two young women from Finland who heard me describing rafting in Téna to other travelers. After showing them the newly designed albums and explanatory forms, they booked a 3 1/2 day trip for this weekend including a full day guided trip in the jungle, two complete days rafting the Jatun Yacu, swimming in gorgeous lagoons and other additional activities! I could hardly believe it--I made my first commission, which is almost enough to live for four days! If I can do this twice a week, I will be doing just fine. Isn´t this great!

Early today I spent some time with the owner of World Bike and learned about the various types of trips they offer. I will also be trying to sell their biking tours, mountaineering packages and trekking trips. They have some great products and are considered some of the most highly trained guides in Ecuador. The owner, Rafael, was trained in France as an alpinista and has subsequently trained some of the world´s finest mountaineers. He offered to let me tag along this weekend on a climb of Cotopaxi, the world´s highest volcano, for free to get an idea of the types of trips they offer. We will finalize the details tomorrow and, as of now, everything looks like it will work out for a midnight summit attempt on Saturday night. Alex and I will spend all day Friday climbing above 4,000 meters (about 13,500 feet) to begin our acclimatization. Then, we will stay the night in the refugio and meet the rest of the group Saturday afternoon and participate in a mountaineering school for the rest of the day. We wake a little before midnight and begin the long, arduous slog up the glaciated mountain and, if God is willing, we will summit right before sunrise, so we can witness one of the most beautiful sights on earth. I hope it all works out, but if not, there will be more trips soon that I can tag along to. Who knows, I may even be able to attend their guide training and become a certified mountain guide and lead trips for additional work in the next year or two. That would be yet another dream come true.

I must run. I don´t know if I will be able to write again until after this weekend as I may be in Cotopaxi National Park training for the next few days and then climbing. However, as always, thank you for all of the prayers and e-mails--it means the world to me. Next week, I will post photos of Téna, the jungle, rafting, kayaking and, hopefully, climbing Cotopaxi.

With love,

Audie

They call me river dancer (or something similar), because I ¿dance like a river?

2005-08-14T21:44:00.000-05:00

So, I have some exciting news that I know will make you all proud. This afternoon Alex and I were sitting around "resting" and we became bored very quickly. At 4:00 pm he became animated and suggested we go to the river to do some kayaking. We only had two hours as we were going to meet Baruch at 6:00 pm, but we drove to the house and loaded our gear quickly. I could hardly contain my excitement and fortunately we were standing up in the back of the truck as we sped like Devils out of Hell, which required all of my attention or I probably would have done something foolish (like hugged a stranger) as I was so happy.

When we arrived at the river we were greeted by a site that was both incredible and overwhelming: the number of people at the put in point. Oh yeah, this weekend is only a huge national holiday. Anyway, as Alex was trying to explain the basics to me in a quick 15 minute course, we were surrounded by over twenty people eagerly trying to watch, including a gentleman with an eleven foot long Boa Constrictor! Yikes!

We put our boats in the water to go to the next set of pools to practice the roll and traversing. I had gone no more than ten feet when I tried to dodge an unsuspecting swimmer. The results were disastrously funny--I tried to paddle away, but ended by flipping over in the water much to the delight of the two hundred or so spectators who promptly laughed, pointed and cheering wildly. God bless Ecuador and humility!

My second attempt was better and in no time we were down the river to the next set of pools where we were left in solitude. I learned how to traverse, spin circles, blah blah blah. Then, after twenty minutes, we shot down river to a very large, calm section of the water. We began the rolling section of the course and I must admit I was terrified to be trapped underwater by a giant piece of plastic that I was securely held in place to by a piece of equipment (hold the laughter) called a "skirt". However, I kept reminding myself to breathe deeply (above water!), stay calm and focus on the hip-snap. It was pretty exciting. After about fifteen tries with various help from Alex, he let go of me to let me try the roll completely on my own. My first attempt was less than graceful, which included a non-existent hip-snap, sinking my paddle by pulling on it and frantically trying to put my head above water when I was half-way through the roll, which only served to sink me like a rock. I stayed under, tried to keep my cool, attempted to flail upright once more and then completely panicked and grabbed Alex´s THANK-GOD-YOU-ARE-HERE-HANDS and rolled my way to freedom. Few minutes rest later I was ready to try again solo. I flipped under, found my placement, calmed the chattering monkeys in my mind and---ROLLED!!! It was awesome! I was able to do two rolls in a row before another failed attempt.

We had to leave in order to meet Baruch, so we headed down the famous Téna river towards town. I was getting tired (even though we had been in the water less than an hour) and my technique went...errr...out the window? (By the way, what window are we talking about when we say this expression? I never quite understood this saying and yet I use it as if I invented it... With its stunning logic, I probably did...)Anyway, at one point, after a small section of rapids, I paddled towards an eddie as it looked calm and friendly. Was I ever wrong! As soon as I emerged into the eddie, I forgot to edge and found myself in a strange world of viscous material with blood in my head. OH! I AM UPSIDE DOWN! Great! How fortunate for me that a few minutes before I learned to roll. Except, any notion of the roll that had previously been in my muscle memory seemed to escape me and I desperately flailed about until I ran out of oxygen and pulled the rip cord for my second time. Pretty funny. Pretty dang funny.

Afterwards, Alex and I made it to town safely enough. I didn´t even roll the kayak trying to get out of it. (Maura, you should be especially proud!)

All in all, I had a blast and tonight Alex and Baruch were talking about putting me down the Jatun Yacu River tomorrow if I were here instead of in Quito. Errrr....if my memory serves me, that´s a Class III+ river a.k.a . The River of Certain and Painful Death To Those Who Just Learned To Roll An Hour Ago (Yes, the name is this long--tough to put on brochures of the area). Dang, I am off to Quito at 4:00 am. When I come back in two weekends, I will most certainly spend at least one or two full days on the river and then give the old aforementioned River of Doom a go. After all, what is the worst that can happen?

I am a jungle man...

2005-08-13T20:03:00.000-05:00

I only have a few minutes before Equipo de Fausto goes out an celebrates our last night together and Jenny´s birthday, but I wanted to write for just a few minutes about the day.

I arrived at the shop before 7:00am to help Jenny (Gary´s daughter who owns the café) get ready for the onslaught of early customers before the river trip. We have a great time together preparing the most delicious pancakes you have ever tasted, topped with loads of fresh fruit and, just to make them extra special, chocolate and maple syrup. Coupled with fresh Colombian coffee or true British tea and a large glass of Audie´s homemade juice the customers were treated like Kings and Queens of the jungle. We scrambled for a couple of hours preparing countless breakfasts and I was quite content working steadily, but quickly to the tune of true Irish music.

We headed out to the river with a bus load of people eager to begin their grand adventures. When we arrived, we found ourselves in the middle of the blazing hot jungle and ready to begin a beautiful, if not a bit treacherous, hour hike through the sweltering heat to the river. First, however, we made our way through the dense foliage with trees covered in ancient moss, leaves bigger than my torso dotting the ground and beautiful iridescent butterflies fluttering across the path (enjoying the day as we were) to a stunning lagoon complex complete with a cave, massive waterfall and a jump from the rock platform above over 40 feet high! Immediately, we began swimming and some of us brave (or stupid, depending on your point of view!) souls clamored through the dark cave and ascended a poorly constructed log ladder to emerge on top of the rock platform looking down at our possible demise. Only naturally, I jumped first and for the three or four seconds I was suspended in the air I though to myself, "What the _____ (insert explicative of choice here) am I doing?" I hit the water hard, but was able to swim to safely a few minutes later grateful to be in one piece and ready for another try. The second attempt was not nearly as graceful and I felt the ramifications of my actions on places of my body would indecent to describe on this family posting.

Finally we made our way to the rivers and received the requisite safety instructions before embarking on the 40 km of wild river fun. Equipo de Fausto was in the small five person raft and we had our hands full with technical maneuvering through the class IV rapids until lunch. It is hard for me to describe the incredible jungle flanking both sides of the river. We were in a remote section of the green fortress that is completely inaccessible, except by river. Every now and then, we would see signs of other humans--a half rotting precarious footbridge carefully dangling above the water more than thirty feet above or perhaps only two old sandals suspended from the lower branch of an enormous over grown tree left by some innocent passerby who forgot to take their possessions.

Lunch, as always with this family company, was spectacular. We feasted on fresh pineapple, homemade potato salad and, the favorite of all, chocolate cake frosted by yours truly, me. The last half of the river was "Big Water" and, after my last post, we all know what that means. We held on tight and paddled furiously through waves that would terrify everyone in the boat if we hadn´t been so focused on our individual duties to keep ourselves from flipping and swimming the tumultuous rapids. However, we made it to the end of the run safely with only minor injuries and high spirits. In all, it was another day at work and one I could not be more appreciative of.

Off to Quito Monday morning at 4:00am. Will write more once I arrive and get settled.

Thank you all for the messages of support. With love,

Audie

It´s hotter than a jungle here...

2005-08-12T14:33:00.000-05:00

Oh wait! I am in a jungle! For some reason this seems funnier to me than any one around me...must be jungle fever! Ooo, ooo, I know--I must have lost my mind. As they say, " Be careful, it is a jungle out there!"

(Pause to let my own laughter subside...)

Everything is going well. I have been working (or is it "working") every day from about ten hours cooking breakfasts, making lunches, doing dishes, selling river trips, making marketing packages for my new Quito office and drinking a cold beer every afternoon with the clients when they return from the river.... Life is tough, please send care packages!

Actually, I am quite disappointed. This weekend on either Sunday or Monday (maybe Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday) I will leave this incredible place and settle in a new type of jungle: a concrete jungle. If it were anyway possible, I would stay in Téna in a heartbeat and work for scraps just for the chance to go on the river a few times a week. However, the real world beckons and I will run the Quito office selling packages directly to clients as well as setting up relationships with travel agencies to offer our product. This week has been a whirlwind trying to prepare for this next adventure.

Tomorrow, Saturday, Rich, Jenny, Maura and I will spend our last full day together. I am trying not to think about it as we have had such great times together and their friendships have made this move manageable. Thankfully I have a new "family" here with the Dent family--the owners of River People. They treat me like another son (which often means working harder!) and have opened their arms to me, for which I am very grateful. To celebrate not only the last day of Equipo de Fausto (Team Fausto), but also Jenny´s birthday we are all going on a large trip down the Jondachie river (class IV). The river run is one of the pride and joys of River People as we are the only company offering trips down its magnificent length. Over 40 km long and guarded on both sides by canyon walls, the river cuts through virgin primary rain forest and offers its guests glimpses of the world as it must have looked thousands of years ago. We will spend over eight hours on the water tomorrow and also experience a hike into the jungle and cave explorations. All in all, it should be a great trip. Besides, I have personally sold over 8 spots of the trip myself! Not bad for a first week!

I must run back to work... Have a wonderful weekend and please, "Be careful, it´s a jungle out there!"

Big water, jungle beyond description and a great start at work

2005-08-10T14:19:00.000-05:00

Yestday was possibly one of the best days I have every had. Most certainly in the top 50.

I was, in fact, able to go rafting with the group and help out along the way. We only had two customers on this particular section of the river, so with the safety kayaker, Victor, our guide, Alex (one of the two sons who also own the business), Baruch (more on him later) and me, we had a very manageable and very fun group.

We started the day off by readying the equipment and then, Baruch, Alex and I took a 45 minute truck taxi deep into the jungle to pick up Victor at his house and the two women from Switzerland who were staying in a jungle lodge the company contracts with on the edge of the river. The drive was astounding as we sped through miles and miles of thick jungle complete with each layer of unique ecosystem as the canopy extends upwards. After we picked up the three, Baruch and I sat on top of the raft tied to the back of the pick-up and held on for dear life as our driver passed all expectations of speed on the bumpy, dirt road complete with large potholes filled with the previous day´s rain.

Before embarking on the river, Victor, the two young women and I hiked to a secluded lagoon fed by hundreds of feet of cascading waterfalls. The large and deep emerald green pool was flanked by walls of rock perfect for the terrifying leap of faiths that ensued. Swimming furiously to the other side, so we would not be swept down another series of unbelievably large waterfalls, we soon found ourselves on the other side of the lagoon ready to ride the waterfalls above for a small series of drops over smooth rocks worn from millenia of turbulent water. A bit frightening, but absolutely exhilirating, the waterfall ride brought a large smile to my face and was soon followed by another poorly executed "cannon-ball" from the cliff above. But, the day was wasting, so after jumping starting our excitment for the day and filling our ears with water, we headed back to the waiting raft and the rest of our group.

How do I describe what met us as we began our journey down river... For starters, the local guides call the water "Big Water". After experiencing this phenomenon myself, I would call it "ABSOLUTELY HUGE WATER!!!" I have had my fair share on Class III rivers in Idaho, but this river would easily be classified as a Class IV or IV+ by our standards at home. The rapids were complete with holes behind rocks that could swallow houses (not an exaggeration), rolling waves over 8 feet tall that consumed our six person raft like hungry guests inhaling appetizers at cheesy wine party and a volumous flow of water working its way to the ocean of the likes I have never seen before.

After a few hours of exhausted rafting, we stopped on a beach where I encountered my first quick sand. When I stepped onto what appeared to by rather dry sand on the edge of the water, I sank to my thighs within seconds and struggled to even lift my feet. It was a cool feeling and after I figured out how to escape, I tried to sink several more times to the amusment of everyone watching! We ate a fantastic lunch complete with fresh pinapple and homemade burritos that rivaled any restaurant. Then, with full bellies, we made our way to the next stop that took my breath away...

The stream entered the Rio Napo from a slot canyon to our left. When the raft and kayak were secured, we began swimming/slogging our way up the creek only to be greeted by possibly the most beautiful natural surrounds I have ever seen. Trees over five hundred years old casually dangled their moss-covered roots over the canyon walls--colorful birds sounded their arrival above and could be seen scurrying from canopy to canopy--the rocks felt alive with different types of lichen clinging on tightly by tiny threads of roots... We stopped in a clearing filled with the same type of clay used in specialty spas around the world for skin improvement. Grabbing giant handfulls of the fragrant clay and mud, we covered ourselves (hair and all) like pigs in mud bath. Then, we journeyed up stream through tight, dark slotted canyons and found even more incredible wildlife and different species of trees and fauna, including the famous "walking trees" that extend hundreds of root tenacles outward and once these black roots take hold the tree rots the ones in the back, slowely pulling itself across the jungle floor. These incredible trees that stretch higher than 90 feet can move up to six inches in just two or three months, depending on the conditions!

By the end of the day, I was exhasted. We cleaned the equipment, packing each piece in its proper place silently thinking about the day´s untold adventures. I had the time of my life and felt absolutely spoiled to be working for River People, who have treated me exceptionally well--almost like a part of their family. This Saturday, they have invited me to work on a Class IV trip that supposedly is Ecuador´s most beautiful river run through 40 kilometers of deep cayon complete with caves to explore and untouched jungle that stretches further than the imagination. I am equally terrified as I am excited as this river is far more technical than the one we ran yesterday, but that also means twice the number of stories afterwards... With these experiences, I can hardly wait to get to Quito to start selling the affordably priced packages. Besides, we have already determined that I can come down with the groups of Quito and on the weekends to do some kayaking and rafting of my own with the company.

It has been a great week so far in Téna!

I have a job!!!

2005-08-08T17:34:00.000-05:00

I have a job! Yesterday, when we arrived in Tena, we went to the rafting and kayaking company so Rich, Jenny and Maura could secure their kayaking instruction this week. Anyway, after we sat down and met the instructor (one of the sons of the owner), the owner, Gary, turned to me and said, "So, you are the one who wants a job..." and with that, my interview began! It was the easiest (and also scariest) interview I have ever conducted. He told me they have an office in Quito to book trips from, but no one to run it. So, I am going to be working in Quito trying to book single or multi-day packages including several different types of lodging--everything from jungle lodges to hostels in Téna and the surrounding area. We finished last night by him telling me to come back tomorrow (today) to start learning the ropes.

I could hardly sleep last night, because I was so excited. When we woke this morning it was pouring, but the jungle was absolutely beautiful with the infusion of water. We went to the small café run by the same family above the office below and had the best breakfast we have since our arrival in Ecuador. Fresh fruit and homemade pancakes accompanied the best tea I have had in months. Afterwards, the rest of the group prepared for their full day of lessons and Gary and I went downstairs to begin our work. However, Gary´s daughter who normally runs the café is on vacation this week, so it was only Gary, Monica (another local employee) and I in the office. We had a few more people come for breakfast who had been rafting a couple days before. Gary and I scampered upstairs and the two of us worked in tandem to prepare the breakfasts. I was scared to death and yet very excited to be working in a "restaurant" again. I prepared all the fruit, coffee, homemade juice, etc while Gary made up another couple batches of pancakes. It was a blast and when the rush was over, I had the honor of cleaning up--doing the dishes--and the rest. In all seriousness, I loved it. One small sink with an old sponge and me sweating like a pig from the morning heat and humidity.

I am on lunch break right now after spending the last several hours going over the different packages "River People" offer. It has been a tremendous amount of information, but I couldn´t be happier. Tomorrow, I will most likely be going on a rafting trip down the most popular (only two rafts or so a day!) to help out with the small group and to see what type of river I will be selling. There is a large lagoon at the beginning filled with warm water perfect for rock jumping to start the adventure, followed by a jungle lodge at the edge of the river a few hours day that the company uses as a base camp for multi-day trips and hiking. Then, the river flows into Téna completing a near 17 mile trip class III trip. I do hope I get to go, but if not, there will be plenty of opportunity in the future.

Already Gary mentioned that it is very likely I will be able to accompany the group on a trip down a Class IV+ river that has only been floated two other times in known history in November when a group of international instructors come to Téna for a week. The trip takes three days and from the pictures I saw this morning, you´re not in Kansas anymore! Absolutely huge waterfalls line the edge of the jungle canopy and one stretch of the river goes through a completely dark cave that, from the photo, looks terrifying. How exciting!

Even though I will only be earning 15% commission on each package I sell and the opportunity to tag along on trips when there is need/room for more help, I am quite excited at the possibilities. I have a feeling that with some hard work and persistence, I can tap into the Quito market and make a living. If it turns out that I cannot support myself on this income alone, I always have my teaching certificate and may indeed even try to work 15 to 20 hours a week in addition to supplement my income and make sure I have a roof over my head and enough to eat. Besides, Gary mentioned that we will play it by ear and adjust as necessary if it isn´t working out. In addition, we have discussed that I will probably be coming to Téna quite a bit to help out and get some river time.

A little bit on the family: Gary and his entire family (Tim and Eric are about 25 and his daughter, who I have not met yet, is about 16) came from Ireland to Ecuador 13 years ago as missionaries. After they worked in the mission volunteering for a few years, they ran out of money and decided to take up a new trade to stay in Ecuador, a country they have fallen in love with. So, they each learned how to kayak and raft ten years ago and became internationally certified guides a short time later. Then, just three years ago, they started one of the first international companies in Téna and have been busy every since. They now have five guides working full time for them and can handle about 30 people on any given day. They are not overly concerned with making a fortune and as such, they have a very humble and down to earth feel--similar to Dad´s shop, which is probably why I feel so at home.

Anyway, I must run. Will keep you updated. I may be here a week or so longer after this week to learn the ropes. We will play it by ear...

A Heavy Heart

2005-08-05T08:25:00.000-05:00

All,

It is with a heavy heart that I leave Cuenca today in search of adventure in the Amazon jungle for a week and then off to Quito to face the real world of job hunting and apartment finding.

I did not realize how much I had come to love this city and its people until I realized yesterday was be my last full day here. Being so far from home, I could not be more blessed to have started my adventure in this valley high in the Andes with incredible colonial architecture, some of he largest and finest cathedrals outside of Europe, warm hospitality from the residents and, of course, the professors and friends made at Simon-Bolivar Language School.

Yesterday, I wandered the city for what felt like ages--soaking up the sights and reflecting on my time thus far. Above, the rolling thunderclouds were pitch black, expect each had a true silver lining the sun illuminated giving the scene an almost majestic feel. Fireworks, which actually sounded like large bombs, went off all over the city as everyone piled out into the streets to celebrate Cuenca´s patron Saint. Bands filled the air with solemn music and the ancient cobble-stone streets were covered in hundreds of thousands of rose petals. The site was spectacular and, if only for a moment, I selfishly imagined all of this was to send me on my way and wish me luck in my continued journey. Each times a car or bus would whoosh by me, the rose petals would boil up from the streets creating a white and red broken mosaic in the air and then slowly, yet assuredly, float their way back to the ground.

Today, immediately after class, Rich, Jenny, Maura and I will head to the bus station and find our way north seven or eight hours to a small mountain town, Baños. (For those of you looking on a map, Baños is below Quito between the two great mountain ranges--close to Ambato.) Either tonight or tomorrow night, we plan on scaling one of Ecuador´s active volcanoes to see the hot magma spilling forth into the night. Supposedly, the site is incredible and on a clear night the sky is red when viewed from the valley below. However, red skies are not enough and, I am quite excited about this, we will try to reach the rim to peer inside the magnificent form. Afterwards, we will soak in one of Baños´ famous hot springs (water naturally heated by the volcanic magma beneath the Earth´s surface).

On Sunday, we are off to Tena, the jungle town seated deep within the engulfing forest next to a river reputed to be one of the best in the world for kayaking and rafting. (On a map, look south-east of Quito, to the right of the Andes) I have received mixed reports on whether there is Internet. However, if not, plan on a full update in little more than a week complete with many, many pictures.

Till then...

Gracias a Cuenca!

Audie

History revisited

2005-08-03T17:55:00.000-05:00

I am struck, once again, by the fluidity of history. It is well known that history is written by the winners... As such, large chunks of history are are often innocently forgotten, blatantly deleted and almost always distorted. It is hard to understand this phenomenon without experience it first-hand. However, each time I have a conversation with another person from a different culture or country, little points of friction arise as we each describe the same events, but with completely different facts and perspectives. For instance, when I was in China it became apparent the Chinese view both World Wars very differently than we do in the United States. Emphasis is put on different elements of the war--different casualty figures, varied testimonies of the same battles, etc. The same is true during my time so far in South America.

History is malleable, flexible and easily distorted.

Often times when confronted with a different history than I know, my first reaction is to immediately dig in my heels and just assume that history I have been taught is "correct" and without error... However, I must constantly remind myself that even the history I have been taught is just as fallible as the next person's. History, contrary to popular belief and what I would like to believe, is organic. It grows, changes, morphs thorough the centuries and is as unique as each individual who learns it. Now, instead of blindly defending a certain belief, I bite my tongue and try to listen first... Only then is it possible to have a proper dialogue about the discrepancies between one account and another.

Psychology has demonstrated time and time again that human memory is one of the most fallible and easily manipulated forces on earth--next to rare and precious metals... ¿And, what is recorded history other than orally transmitted and transcribed memories?

Ramblings on language...

2005-07-31T18:50:00.000-05:00

It is interesting, as I believe most students of foreign languages would attest, to realize that learning a foreign language is more than just translating word for word, phrase for phrase from the native tongue into a new and strange sounding pattern of writing and speech. In fact, there is much more going on behind the invisible epistemological screen. For instance, one of the most difficult and yet rewarding realizations, at least for me, comes from the basic acknowledgment that language is the simple representation of complex ideas. As such, within each language there are words, phrases, idiomatic expressions that do not translate from one language to another. It is these nuggets of gold that are worth watching out for, as they are pieces of knowledge that can only be accessed via one path: the original expression! Eureka!

In this way, the world expands. Old philosophies are discovered as if for the first time by new people. Customs are exchange. Unspoken elements of culture, such as dignity, truth and beliefs in powers not yet seen are silently taught--and all within the context of a new language.

It appears, although I am not a scientist in this regard, from my simple observations languages with a similar root e.g. Romance languages (French, Spanish, Italian and to some degree English) tend to have similar philosophies and cultural connections. Therefore, learning these languages as a second or third language is unlikely to reveal large deposits of untapped treasures. However, take my position in the Andes. The Incan descendants speak a dialect of Quechua. This language is a treasure trove of new philosophies, beliefs and perspectives on the world completely inaccessible by me, except for the residual knowledge I pick up from being surrounded by it each day. The same goes for other languages completely disconnected from our own: Arabic, Chinese, Russian, etc.

Perhaps this is one of the greatest, yet most ignored, joys of this type of study. As a future English teacher in Quito, I look forward with great anticipation to sharing pieces of our treasure in the English language with my students.

Cheers!

Saturday markets

2005-07-30T10:00:00.000-05:00

This morning, my host family and I woke earlier to do our weekly fruit and vegetable shopping in an open air market near the house. Normally, we go to the market on Sunday morning, but do to a variety of factors (none of which I know) we made a group decision to go today.

(Pause for dramatic effect)

Wow. I have never seen anything quite like what greeted my senses this morning. When we arrived, there was a sea of colorful clothing, food, yelling women shouting their prices and more bargaining going on that when the Pilgrims landed centuries ago. The myriad of fruits and vegetables were laying the traditional boxes on the ground. Or, items like Piña (Pineapple) or platas (various types of bananas) were simply piled in enormous stacks spanning close to twenty feet long by ten feet wide and maybe six feet high. Items are fairly inexpensive. For instance, you can buy two of the best, huge white pineapples (different than the pineapples in America. We have yellow pineapples, which are smaller and not quite as sweet) for only $1.00. Six pounds of perfect tomatoes only cost $2.00 and, one of my favorites, two pounds of ripe blackberries cost all of $1.00.

With over ten thousand people in the market this morning, I struggled to keep up with Anita as we navigated the crowds. However, I was in heaven with so much food and can hardly wait to see the markets in Quito, which are even larger and cheaper.

Have a wonderful weekend!

Mmmm, food poisoning--what a treat!

2005-07-29T17:21:00.000-05:00

So, yesterday I thought it would be a good idea to go to one of the HUGE open air markets and buy some food as I have done several times before. Normally, I treat myself to some of the delicious fruit juices, fried potato cakes (or banana as they sometimes are!), etc. However, yesterday I felt like eating something more substantial and therefore heading toward the area of the market selling various meats and meals. Now, you have to understand, when I say they are selling meats try to picture walking between cramped rows of raised booths filled with everything from whole pigs that have been slow cooked for a day or more to entire carcases of cows dripping blood waiting for their share of heat. It is actually quite spectacular.

Anyway, I was in the mood for pork, potatoes and a unique type of giant corn kernels Ecuador is known for. I found an appropriate stall and bought a huge bag of food for only $1.50. Content, I walked around the streets eating my delicious tasting treat. However, less than 20 minutes later as I headed for the bus, I started to feel sicker than I can describe. Of course, I knew I had food poisoning, but little did I know how sick a person can get. I spent the evening in incredible pain, suffering from flashes of chills and fever. Finally, I worked my way downstairs and told my host mother what was going on. She prepared a special tea for me and told me to hang in there for another hour or so. As if on cue an hour later, my entire insides stopped hurting enough I finally fell asleep. This morning, I felt quite ill, but decided to try to go to school. Everything was fine until about three and a half hours into the day. We were at a hat factory, which produces the famous Panama Hats (long story as to why they are called Panama Hats when Ecuador is the only country to produce authentic ones....details to follow in a different post!). Within a matter of minutes, my insides felt like they had been placed in a blender. I broke out into a strong fever and almost passed out from standing up. For the first time since I arrived, I thought about hailing a cab and going to the hospital. Instead, we left shortly thereafter and I caught a bus home where I consumed more of the special tea and spent the afternoon in bed.

Well, here I am now, feeling a bit better. Needless to say, I can now claim to have tried another one of Ecuador´s culinary delights--food poisoning!

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Have a wonderful weekend. Will write more next week.

"Woik"

2005-07-28T12:34:00.000-05:00

Today in class we were all quite dazed from a full week of lessons. As such, we tend to get into these bizarre zones where are brains are neither functionally well in English or Spanish. Anyway, at one point, Rich exclaimed, "What! I just spelled "walk" phonetically: W-O-I-K" We all burst out laughing and gave him a hard time.

However, yesterday at lunch my host father was asking me to say the alphabet in English as there are five fewer letters and I completely forgot our 26 letters. I must have sat there for ages looking like a fool as I mumbled through the sea of confusion. It got even worse when he asked me for the vowels as I threw in a few consonants just to keep him on his toes (or so I tried to believe!)

Anyway, there is another new post for today as well below--Enjoy.

Much the same...

2005-07-28T08:21:00.000-05:00

This morning while walking to school from the bus I saw a local woman begging, which is a rather common site even in Cuenca. Each day I try to give to at least a few of the people I encounter each day. However, after I had given her some money and wished her a good day, I fished into my pocket and found I had given away my bus money for the afternoon! I suppose my gift was twofold: 1) She gets to eat lunch today and, 2) I get some exercise this afternoon! Gracias a Dios! (Thank you God!)

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Yesterday, I went to the local supermarket to buy daily necessities. When I reached the cash register I was met with a quite attractive cashier. She said something to me, but in my still delirious state from just waking up from a siesta combined with the entire situation I replied, "¿You want my phone number and name?" Okay!

It turns out, after a shocked look and then laughter between her and her two fellow cashiers, she repeated her original statement, "Welcome to the Supermaxi."

I have always believed in trying when the opportunity presents itself.

Photos are here!

2005-07-26T17:52:00.000-05:00

I just switched sites for posting photos. With the new site, you can view the photos as normal, but you can also buy prints if you so like for quite reasonable prices. I hope you enjoy!

Click on the link below and then you can click on the individual photos to view them and a brief description (if I typed one).

http://www.kodakgallery.com/BrowsePhotos.jsp?&collid=46788040308

Let me know if you have any difficulties.

P.s. There is a new post below...enjoy.

Ciao!

Dancing, concerts, hiking and one great bus ride

2005-07-26T15:33:00.000-05:00

All,

Thank you for your patience in waiting for this post. I recognize you must have a white knuckled grip on the mouse as you await breathlessly for what follows: stories of dancing, love, beautiful nature reserves and more. I am having a bit of difficulty with posting pictures, but I am hoping to have photos of dancing and hiking available tomorrow.

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Friday. Ah, the Friday dreams are made of...

At school, we commenced our fiesta with a lesson on how to made traditional drinks from Ecuador. Rum flowed like wine! Tequila flowed like wine! And, who could forget the vodka that flowed like wine! The only drink that did not flow like wine, was the wine! After an hour or so, Martha, Maura, Alyson and I slipped out the back and went upstairs to prepare for our night of colorful dancing.

For starters, Martha decided only the night before to change the dances. Instead of Salsa, Rumba and Folklore we would perform two traditional folklore dances and a rather fun, energetic rumba. You can imagine our surprise (and panic!) as we scrambled to learn the second traditional dance less than 24 hours before our performance!

Our costumes were simply amazing. The three women wore traditional Ecuadorian skirts, shirts, head wear, jewelry, etc while I had the distinct privilege of wearing the most amazing, hairy chaps you have ever seen along with a embroidered cowboy shirt, poncho and, of course, a giant sombrero. I could not have been more pleased.

With music blaring, and after several rounds of photos upstairs, we took our positions in line and walked down the three flights of stairs with our heads held high and smiles crossing our faces. The crowd erupted in cheers and the dance was on! Our first dance was a bit shaky. Half-way through the dance, Martha decided to completely change the rest! Simply brilliant! The three of us tried to keep pace and follow her lead, but ultimately, we each drew from our vast reservoir knowlege concerning traditional Ecuadorian dancing (please sense the jest in this statement) and choreographed our own steps! Wow! What a rush!

Our second dance went much better after a short reprieve. We danced and danced and the crowd offered their unabashed appreciation. We we absolutely spoiled. Let me describe for a moment what the second dance looked like. For the first three minutes or so, I was in the middle of the dance floor on one knee with my head bowed holding my sombrero on with one hand. Behind me, the three women performed various dance steps and then in single file they wrapped around me facing away with their outer skirts pulled wide to block me from the audience´s view. Then, when the music changed beat, I danced out of the circle holding my sombrero high and took the front stage. The rest of the dance involved spinning, dancing around the perimeter to show off the costumes and finished with a beautiful pose facing the crowd. I never knew I could have so much fun!

Finally, we danced the rumba, which is similar to salsa. After the previous two dances, the rumba was rather mellow and a great finale to our performances.

Apparently we did not dance enough, for six of the professors and a large group of us students went to a huge outdoor concert in a local parkand we danced some more! Then, we went to a salsateca and lit the dance floor on fire till almost 2:30 am! In total, we had danced more than eight hours!

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Sunday, Maura and I decided to go to Cajas, a nearby nature reserve boasting over 230 alpine lakes, as we were unable to go a few weeks ago due to innclimate weather. When we arrived, we were greeted by two magnificent things: 1) The price! As gringos, we had to pay $10. Ecuadorians only pay $1.50. Mmmm, I love it. 2) The scenery was simply stunning. We were above 13,500´ and our lungs more certainly noticed the difference as we hiking around one of the large lakes and scampered up some of the surrounding ridges to observe vast expanses of high altitude peaks accompanied by crystal blue lakes in the valleys. We were fortunate to have sunny sky as the temperatures often dip close to zero, even in day.

When we finished our explorations, we made our way back to the restaurant at the head of the trail and enjoyed the best tasting trout I have ever known. The fish was from the nearby lake we just hiked around and its red color enticed us to finish the entire plate without hardly taking a breath!

Our guidebooks mentioned a seemingly simple enough way to return to Cuenca. "Stand on the side of the road and when a bus goes by, flag it down and enjoy!" Perfect! Maura and I waited on the side of the road... After a half hour or so, I made the executive decision to lie down next to the road on a quite comfortable piece of scrub grass with my cowboy hat pulled over my eyes. Ahhhh, how nice. I feel asleep while Maura, being the better student, practiced her vocabulary cards. Suddenly, I hear Maura help, "The bus is coming!" We both jump up and run to the road waving our arms and grinning like dumb tourist.... The bus driver waved back, showed us his pearly whites and promptly sped by!!! Somehow I imagined everything happening much differently!

Our next attempt an hour later was much more successful. When we climbed aboard, we were greeted with the fullest bus I have ever witnessed. We crammed into the aisle and stood, gripping whatever possible tightly as the bus careened down the twisting mountain road at an insane speed. I feasted on the potent smell each of us passengers offered and contemplated my position in the universe. The answers to my questions were inconclusive, but I did decide Ecuador is a country of magnificent proportions.

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It is difficult to summarize my experiences here. Each day is completely different. However, I hope these stories offer at least a small into my travels. If there is anything in particular you would like me to write about--shoot me an e-mail and I would be more than happy to give it a try.

Enjoy the day!

Fast talking, assimilation and a new chompa

2005-07-22T17:09:00.001-05:00

Hear ye! Hear ye!

News from below.

Okay, so it is not that exciting, but that is the point. You see, I am struggling with what to write about as I am beginning to forget what pieces of home are like and how things are different down here. That is, in a terrifying sense, I am beginning to become assimilated in the culture hear far quicker than I anticipated and I feel utterly torn between two worlds: the familiar world of home and the soon-to-be not so strange world of my new home. Wow. Wrap my brain around this...

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So, my host mother has started a new habit that I am not sure is the most healthy or comforting. Lately, Marco has been out of town for work and it is just Anita and I at the house. When we are sitting around, eating yet another avocado, piece of queso (cheese) or pan (bread) my host mother will begin to talk quite quickly. In the bewildering moment I usually remain silent and contemplate my position in the world: I am in Ecuador. I am struggling to learn Spanish. I need a job in the next month or so. I am living in a different family´s house. I am a gringo. I am a gringo. I am a gringo.... Anyway, just as I am about to snap out of my train of thought, she begins speaking so quickly I am constantly afraid her mouth will combust into flames. Look out! Look out! Normalmente everything ends in a realatively safe fashion with my eyes wide and mouth agap in awe. My host mother laughs at her own story that I still do not understand and we both settle into a new found sense of peace watching the news about the latest drug bust to go down in Quito.

Yep, that cool.

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Bought my first piece of clothing since I left. It is called a chompa and is a cross between a jacket and a sweater. I feel like a local walking around in my new threads.

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Feeling a bit restless today. Must be the fact that I am about to dance in traditional idigenous Andean clothing in front of the entire school. Naw...it couldn´t be that!

Maybe it is because I haven´t showered in three days because I am terrified of the cold water (refer to posts below) that makes me turn purple! That´s more like it!

Oooo...ooooo...or even better yet, it could be due to the fact that I act some fried patties in the market last night that I thought were potatoes until Fausto corrected me this morning and informed me they are really made out of bananas. Imagine my Idaho spirit being crushed in a sea of Ecuadorian realism. Damn.

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Enough mayhem for today. Check back Monday for pictures and stories of the fiesta tonight.

With love---a la Paz,

Audie

More pictures added

2005-07-21T15:18:00.000-05:00

All,

Visit http://www.flickr.com/photos/30447231@N00/ for more recent photos. I know I do not have a lot as the internet connections are painfully slow, but there are a few new gems to observe. Have fun!

P.s. Today´s post is below...

A glorious day in Cuenca

2005-07-21T15:01:00.000-05:00

Today is one of those days that makes everyone smile even if they were previously down. When I woke this morning, I peeked out my bedroom window to observe a miracle of light descending on the red-tiled rooftop city below. The rays of sun were visible through the clouds and lit the center of the city ablaze. Absolutely stunning.

Finally, it is a warm afternoon--about 70 degrees and there is a light breeze to accompany the pedestrians as they stroll the cobble-stone streets.

Even the bus drivers seem to be taking in the solar vitamins as they are actually driving the speed limit and have practically reached a full stop whenever a passenger dismounts! What a day!

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Last night after my two hours of dance practice in preparation for the performance tomorrow at the fiesta, a large group of students and professors went dancing at a salsateca until the wee hours of the morning. It was quite an experience as everyone in the tiny joint was crammed in so tightly you could hardly breathe and tried to make waves in the sea of people to the beat of the blaring Latin music. Awesome.

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Each day my Spanish improves. I had my third meal since I have arrived where so English was spoken. We all spoke in all three tenses and conveyed a tremendous amount of information about Marco´s work in Quito, the condition of the fruit and vegetable markets, how Anita´s job is going (she´s an attorney), etc. This may not sound too exciting, but after only being here there weeks and arriving without speaking any of the language, I am rather excited. We are supposed to learn two more tenses in the next two weeks after which, I will be able to learn a lot of the language on my own without the aid of classes. That´s what I call a good time.

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I had the realization today that I feel quite at home in Cuenca. It seems hard to believe I will be leaving this beautiful city in two weeks, however, I must move on in search of bigger and better things (Read as follows: in search of a job!). The buildings have become familiar and I feel the pulse of the city in my blood. We ebb and flow together creating a rather odd couple!

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Stay tuned for pictures of tomorrow´s fiesta. It is guaranteed to be a good time.

Have a wonderful day and I look forward to writing more soon!

¿Es posible? No!

2005-07-19T15:29:00.000-05:00

¿Is it...is it possible?

It is! I forgot how to count in English this morning. My mind was spinning with Spanish numbers and when I tried so very hard to remember my native tongue, guess what came out? French! Blasted!

Needless to say, the Spanish is going quite well. I am now able to communicate in three tenses: past simple, present and, por supuesto, the simple future. Awesome. Now that is what I call a fiesta in my mouth.

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It happens when you study a foreign language so intensely. That is, sometimes I get so wrapped up in what I am trying to learn, I get stuck on details I really should know. It seems to happen to everyone at some point or another. For instance, this morning, we were discussing places we´ve been and sites we would like to see when Fausto asked us what type of climate we packed for. Each of us took turns describing how hot, warm or cold our clothes were suited for when Maura uttered something that truly befuddled me. She said she thought it was going to be cold in the Andes (it is), so she brought warm clothes.

"What," I nearly shouted. "¿Why would you bring warmer clothes if you thought it was going to be cold?" You see, in my mind I had forgotten the simple concept that you wear warmer clothes when it is close. In my Spanish-induced-haze I could swear warm clothes were for warm weather. Yeah...I know...it is a sad state of affairs. What is worse, I fought the entire class for a solid five minutes on this point until I realized: I am an idiot.

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The buses fly down the streets. When it is time to get on, you wave your arms like a goose on caffeine (at least I do.... Yes, I am a gringo) and hope they acknowledge your presence. Most of the time, they will at least slow to a near stop, so you can jump on with your heart pumping as the pavement whirls away beneath your feet.

Sometimes, however, the driver wants to get home early to watch futbol and continues to drive at a fairly decent clip, say 10-15 mph. Now, that is more of a challenge.

I can usually tell if the driver is going to slow down all the way or not by the wild look in their eyes. Just kidding... I never really know. When they don´t, I put my $0.25 in my left hand and prepare my right for the perfectly timed grab.

Here it comes... Ready! Ready! Set...... GRAB AND JUMP! Hooray, another successful hop onto the ever moving bus!

When I see older folks trying to get on, I always wonder if the bus will come to a near stop or keep trucking along. Sometimes they stop... Sometimes not. I have, on occasion, thought to myself as an older grandfather tries with every ounce of youthfulness to hop onto the moving mass of death, " Use your cane, Grandpa! Use your cane!" Of course, I don´t actually say this out loud as it might be interpreted in this foreign land as a type of threat. So, I sit quietly, squished between another sore-handed passenger and the window and just look at the passing sites....

Poverty difficult to imagine...

2005-07-18T15:24:00.000-05:00

As of yet, I have not posted anything too serious or deep. I am trying to ease myself into the entire situation. However, I feel it is time to begin writing at least a little each week on more serious and socially pertinent issues, such as poverty, corruption, etc.

Even in Cuenca, which is quite possibly the most affluent city in Ecuador per capita, there is a substantial amount of poverty. Poverty of the likes we can hardly fathom. People beg in the United States, but it is difficult for me to describe the difference. Here, when you look around at the housing and sanitation, health care access and income opportunities it is immediately apparent that the poverty here runs much deeper than the surface. It is impossible to avoid. On the streets little children no older than five or six run up to me either trying to sell me pieces of gum for $0.25 or they outright beg. With no parents in sight, my heart breaks every time. My first thought is, "Why aren´t these children in school?" The second, "I wonder if they have eaten today..." This occurrence is not as rare as one would hope either...

Older men and women, some physically or mentally disabled, others just too old to work sit near churches or other highly visited places and silently ask for money. There is one woman across the street from my school whom I visit every day. I always ask if she is hungry and then hurry upstairs to bring her some bread from the school. She must be close to seventy and it is hard to see her struggle so much. Toothless, but with a full heart, she never fails to bestow a blessing on me.

And yet, I want to do more, much more. There are not the same social services here as in America. Ever since the dollarization, the economic inequality has increased so dramatically there are literally families starving who were once able to survive as the price of all goods sky-rocketed. Before, the dollarization, the local currency was the Sucre. However, the inflation in the late 90´s reached proportions hardly fathomable to most of us.

For example, imagine you had $1,000 in 1995. By 2001, because of the inflation, that same $1,000 is now only worth about $7, yet the price of goods remains the same (it doesn´t get any cheaper to produce those goods). The President´s solution to slow down the spiraling inflation was to convert all of Ecuador´s currency to the dollar. In the last four years, inflation has receded to a degree, yet compared to ten years ago, the currency is only worth a small portion of what it used to be valued.

I have asked several people what they think about the dollarization in 2001. Each person gives me the same answer: In regards to the country as a whole, it has helped stabilize the economy. However, families have been utterly destroyed by the decision. Ecuador experienced a mass migration of people, tearing families apart in desperate efforts to send money home from working fathers or mothers in other countries. Today, Ecuador only has a little more than 14 million people. In the past six or so years, over 3 million Ecuadorians fled to other countries in hopes of greater income. A lot went to Europe, other South American countries and, of course, the United States. This percentage of people would be the same as if in the next six years or so, 46 million U.S. citizens fled the country, because we had just converted our dollar to the Chinese Yuan in hopes of stabilizing our economy. For me at least, this is truly difficult to imagine.

Perhaps it seems strange for me to write about such an issue. However, as citizens of one of the most affluent countries in the world, I believe it is vital to know what else exists elsewhere in the world. We are fortunate to have what we have. Others are not as lucky. As I travel thorough South America in the next year or two, I will be confronted with much more poverty--to an even greater degree in some places. With each encounter I will most assuredly ask myself what my role and responsibilities are in the face of such issues.

Un noche legandario!

2005-07-15T15:29:00.000-05:00

The title says it all. Wednesday night was legendary. Yes, we went to the futbol game and from there we wandered the streets of Cuenca till the wee hours of the morning while the city celebrated.

For starters, the semi-final game against Quito was supposed to be a resounding victory in Quito´s favor, as they are the best team in Ecuador. We arrived an hour early and the line waiting to get into the stadium was staggering. It snaked through hordes of vendors selling everything related to Equipo Cuenca (team Cuenca). As planed, I bought a team jersey and a team flag that is huge--all for five dollars! Everyone has a team jersey and it felt good to be part of the red colored sea of fans. When we finally entered, all nine or so of us headed directly for the crazy section where we sat last time (for a description, see previous post). What awaited us was stunning. The stadium last time had about 15,000 crazy fans and this game they packed in over 20,000!!! We were standing two deep on the benches =)

WARNING: Faint-hearted ones, skip to the next vignette.

¿Remember during the last game when I mentioned the rowdies climbing the fence and leading the crowds in cheers and songs...? Yeah...Rich and I seized the opportunity, about thirty minutes before the game, to climb to the top of the twenty foot high fence and lead the crowd in a rousing series of chants, cheers, songs and so much more. The crowd went absolutely nuts!!! They were laughing and cheering, beating the drums louder than before. It must have been a sight... At one point, the television crews came over and filmed for several minutes broadcasting to over 20 million people in Ecuador and northern Peru while we lead the crowd in the famous local fight song, " Vamos! Vamos, Cuencaños esta noche vamos a ganar!" (Let´s go! Let´s go Cuecaños this is the night we are going to win!) Wow. ¿What can I say? Over a hundred giant paper torches were lit in front of us and the energy in the stadium exceeded all expectation.

As I said before, we were up on the fence for a little more than half an hour (my fingers are still bruised from gripping the chain link and barb wire so hard). At one point, someone handed us a huge flag and Rich and I took turns waving it with pride. Perhaps the moment the crowd went the most wild was, after Jenny and Maura joined us for a few minutes, Rich traversed the fence twenty paces or so and gave Jenny, his girlfriend from England, a kiss. The roar from the crowd was deafening! We finally descended and found our proper places, two deep, on the benches high in the stadium to watch the game. Against all odds (it was predicted Quito would win 7-0), we won the game 2-1!!!! Try to imagine, if you will, the excitement of the crowd. We are in the finals!

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Today I was taking a nap before lunch when Marquito (Marco Jr.) came upstairs to wake me up in time to eat. Those of you who have had the privilege of living with me or spending any amount of time with me know waking me up can be a dangerous venture to be avoided at all cost. (Dad, I take after you in this regard) When Marco touched me, I let out a terrifying yell coupled with two or three sharp Kung Fu chops at his body with great intensity as I whirled out of bed ready for combat. Poor Marco! His bewildered eyes said it all.

After we both caught our breathes, we lost them again in continuous laughter. The family had heard the scream three floors below in the kitchen and were quite concerned when we came down to the table. Throughout lunch, Marco and I would exchange glances, then burst out giggling.

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After the futbol game on Wednesday, most of us found ourselves on a little known street. A light beckoned us from a shop and when we entered, we were greeted by five grown men having a little fiesta of their own. We were invited to partake and spent the next two hours engaging in broken conversation, much eating and a celebration to be remembered. It turns out the shop was an artist studio of the like I have not seen before. Simply fantastic. The old man was the artist. Complete with white beard, flowing white hair and an older style of dress, the gentleman played the acoustic guitar as if there were not a care in the world. We listened and even sang with him in our broken Spanish the familiar tunes of Bob Dylan, Pink Floyd and other artists. Finally we excused ourselves as we all had to return home and prepare for the lesson the following morning.

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Well, I should go study. I am going to spend the weekend working on my lessons and resting after a busy week. I am hoping to go to Mass on Sunday and observe an integral part of the Ecuadorian culture at one of the many famous cathedrals in Cuenca. Will write more on Monday.

Have a wonderful weekend. Till then,

Audie

Tengo que beber Cuba Libre!

2005-07-13T14:44:00.000-05:00

The inevitable has happened. No, I have not started dating someone, nor have I decided to sell my left arm to buy a motorcycle (as tempting as it may be).

Let me explain further...

Yesterday, Fausto was asking us questions pertaining to what sports we enjoy, movies we love, yada yada ya. No importa! Anyway, he asked each of us which is our favorite card game. Naturally and quite innocently, as any Black Family Member would respond, I proudly announced I quite enjoy Pinochle. Wow, was that a mistake. " Perfecto! A la mañana, tienes que describer Pinochle a la clase," he said with a smile.

Errrr... "Fausto," I cried, "the game is very (with an emphasises on the ´very´) hard to explain and takes a long time to play!" No problem was all he used to terminate all protest.

So, this morning, I diligently packed my Pinochle cards (Pa and Grammie would be proud) and took them to school with a brave face and faint heart. You see, Pinochle is game that takes hours, if not days to learn and decades to master. As I have only been playing with some frequency for eight years or so, I would classify myself as a novice-intermediate.

Class began and before I knew it Fausto turned to me as asked me to teach the class the game of day. Wow! ¿What could I say? I began to explain the point system and thirty minutes later the students looked mortified and Fausto was laughing so hard he could hardly speak. Hey, I told him the game was difficult. Forty minutes after started, I was finally finished explaining the points and had to impart upon my eager students the significance and use of "trumping". _____ (insert explicative word of choice here)

Almost two hours later of non-stop attempts at explaining Pinochle with my broken español, I was exhausted, my brain felt like it would explode, my hands were shaking....and we had played one hand. Class was over and Fausto was still laughing so hard at the difficulty of the game we had to leave the table and stand by the window. I yelled at him, with a smile of course, "I told you! I should have chosen Go Fish!"

Three Cheers for Immodium AD Xtra!!!

2005-07-12T18:05:00.000-05:00

Need I explain? Let´s just say after a battle with the food running (pun intended) five days straight, I have finally prevailed. God bless Latin American meat cooked on a stick street-side.

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Last night when my host father asked me how I felt about tomorrow´s futbol (soccer) game, I replied with great enthusiasm "Estoy excitante!!!" Judging by the shocked look on his face I knew something had gone terribly awry (or wonderfully correct depending on your point of view). So, with due diligence I looked up what I thought meant I am very excited for the game and found to my content that I announced the equivalent of "I am sexually excited and ready to make sparks fly in bed and the thought of the futbol game!!!" Wow, it feels good to be twenty-two and resilient.

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Just returned from buying the tickets for tomorrow´s game. What an experience! We arrived hoping to use our new-found university granted economic knowledge that prices go down in relation to quantity by bargaining with the scalpers for nueve boletos (nine tickets). You see, normally the tickets cost five dollar for the loco-I-want-to-light-torches-and-brawl-and-shoot-off-fire-extinguishers-and-jump-on-the-fence-and-sing-and-scream seats. You know the type (if not, reference yesterday´s post). Anyhow, we tried buying the tickets for $4 each. Impossible you say? Hah! You would be correct.

After we were denied the pleasure of securing a bargain, one of the scalpers directed us to an office to buy the tickets at a cheaper price. So, we waiting in line for 45 minutes only to find out when we reached the counter we had a-fast-one pulled on us (English for:_____ insert your favorite explicative word here). We walked about 100 yards further down the estadio (stadium) to find another line filled with local, equally economically humble futbol fans. After a three minute wait, we secured the nine tickets with no strings attached. Wow, it feels good to be a gringo!

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Today in class my head hurt so bad I imagined the blood vessels bursting. Too much Español! Must slow down!!!

At least, I was able to spend the morning describing to the class why I enjoy the classic movie E.T. so much. Fausto´s final question penetrated why I think the underlying message of the movie is. With speed and deliberate focus I responded, "¿Don´t make friends with ugly aliens from other planets?" Absolutely brilliant.

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Great news! Send out the press releases: I took my second hot shower in twelve days! Hooray for me! Hooray for my classmates who don´t have to smell me anymore! Hooray for Cuenca!

Last night, I finally worked up the courage to ask my host family about the nasty situation. You see, it cold showers don´t sound bad, but when it is 37 degrees in the morning and the water is of equal temperature it is, pardon the Spanish phrase, ass-numbing cold. To further describe the state of affairs, I turn purple. Yes, the color! Yes, it hurts!

Anyway, once my family finally stopped laughing at my oh-so-shy nature and berated me for not asking sooner they showed me the simple process required for agua caliente. Okay, let me see if I remember. First, you go up the three flights of stairs to my apartment. Then, with great speed and steadfast perseverence, you turn on all of the hot water faucets i.e. the kitchen, bathroom sink and, por supuesto, the shower. Wait ten minutes or until your toes turn purple from the cold floor and then with eyes closed and fingers crossed, jump in! ¿Es perfecto, no?

The water has to build up enough pressure to make it to my humble baños. Who would have thought? Not me!!! Not me!!!

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Well, I must run ahora (don´t worry Grandma, this is not the same thing I will resort to even if I run out of money). We are learning how to cook traditional Ecuadorian food. Yeeahh for my stomach not hurting anymore!

Till next time,

Audie

A weekend to remember!

2005-07-11T15:59:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, we (Rich, Jenny and I) went to our first Latin American soccer game. Wow! You know me, I like crazy and let me tell you, this game was nuts!!! For years I have heard about the legendary futbol crowds , but never in my life did I anticipate what we participated in. For starters, we arrived early as we only had the cheapest tickets and therefore were in general seating. So, we wandered around looking for a good place to camp out and we finally found ourselves in what appeared to be a fairly decent section. As the locals filed in and the crowd grew, we soon realized our section was not typical, but the rowdiest of the bunch. My kind of people!

Huge, deep sounding drums were brought out--flags were unfurled--fans started singing and chanting--all before the game! When team Cuenca came onto the field, our section went crazy. They sprayed huge fire extinguishers filled with thick red smoke--threw pounds of confetti of every color imaginable--cheered so loud my ears were ringing--and a few of the die-hard fans scaled the twenty foot fence and camped out on top! Little did I know this was just the beginning!

At first we dominated the other team, the local rival from Loja, a city about six hours to the south. When we scored our first goal, our section went ballistic. They lit off huge spraying fireworks, sprayed the fire extinguishers, three massive rolls of paper over the fence and onto the field, lit huge hot airballoons decorated with the Cuenca team flag on fire and let them fly into the air only to be engulfed in flames when they reached a thousand feet or so and most terrifying of all, a giant mosh-pit broke out and it was a free for all fight amongst the fans. Pure mayhem =) I literally was stunned as I have never seen anything like it.

At half time we were up 2-0. People lit these giant newspaper torches and waved them around sending burning embers into the surrounding crowd, including onto my pants! Again, more most-pits, unbelievably loud singing, drumming, chanting cheering. Then, the tides changed... Within ten minutes of the second half, Loja scored three points. The entire stadium was silent with anger, except for our section which sang even louder and threw even more rolls of paper, bottles and such onto the field and at the riot police. Things started to get tense and for the first time, we all felt real fear for ourselves as we were the only gringos we could see in the 15,000+ crowd. A fight broke out two rows down from us and a mighty brawl ensued. Blood was sprayed and soon a group was declared victorious. Meanwhile, Cuenca still could not pull it together.

With only three minutes left in the game, Cuenca scored a brilliant point. THE CROWD WENT NUTS!!! About thirty people rushed the twenty foot high fence and tried to break it down. It swayed to and fro, but held strong. Another fence was not as lucky and was quickly torn down. Fireworks were lit and sprayed everywhere. Confetti flew. Fire exstinguishers were again let loose. The crowd fought with each other with a new ferocity. Drums were beat more loudly than before. Singing took on a new life. And we were in the middle of it =) The game ended: Cuenca 3--Loja 3. We were proudly introduced into the semi-finals.

I must say, the game was the highlight of my trip so far. It was everything I imagine Latin America to be and more. This Wednesday we are going to the semi-final match against Quito, the capital city´s, best team. We will most surely lose, but I have little doubt our spirits will be high! As we sang so often yesterday night, "Let´s go Cuencanos! This is our night for victory!"

As always,

Audie

Cinderella re-written, chirimoyas and a giant sandwhich in waiting...

2005-07-08T13:17:00.000-05:00

Yep, I know the title seems strange, even a bit loco, but I assure that if you finish reading this post it will all be clear.

So, today in class we were busy learning new vocabulary, practicing old vocab, blah, blah, blah when we came across a story. As it turns out we were reading Cenicienta (Cinderella). Cute, I know. But the point of this story is not how, even after twenty-two years, I still get teary-eyed when I read about the coach turning back into a pumpkin and Cinderella becoming just another empleada (house keeper) for her wretched madrastra (step-mother). Rather, the cultural significance of this reading is found in the details. In Estados Unidos (America) I had always read, "...and they lived happily every after." You know, the classic fairy tale ending. Not so in Ecuador. It turns out we have gotten the story all wrong. Cencicienta y el principe (Cinderella and the prince) run away in live in Cancun, Mexico. I am not joking.

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It seems the food has gotten a nasty hold on my stomach. Will keep everyone updated. So far, the food is winning this battle.

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Yesterday I spent the entire afternoon studying, which was a nice change of pace from the insane schedule I have been keeping. But that is about the change. This afternoon I get to attend the end of the school year fiesta for Marco Jr., my host brother who is 11. It will be fun to participate in my first Ecuadorian fiesta. Afterwards, we are studying Latin Rhythms at school and then a large group of students and professors are going to a HUGE concert featuring a famous (for Latin America) artist. I am still debating. It sounds fun---if you like riots and mayhem. I do.

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Tomorrow morning is the big day. Emphasis on the BIG. Why you ask? Muuuuhahahaha, we are going to another crazy fiesta. This time, however, there will be no school children celebrating their release from educational prison. Rather, we are going to a park where they are, as I write this, assembling a sandwich 1/2 kilometer (over a quarter of a mile) long to eat. If there is a heaven, this may be it. My class is going to partake in the festivities, which should include loud music and more food than my stomach can comprehend.

Wish me luck.

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My class went to a local outside market today. My senses were overwhelmed by the vast array of fruits and vegetables, clothing and household items. Everything is quite inexpensive and the quality, of the food at least, is superb. We tried a type of fruit I have never even seen before: chirimoya. ¿How do I describe such flavors? Let´s see...picture the best party you have ever been to in your mouth and you will have some idea of what I am writing about. Chirimoya is simply amazing. Mom. Dad. I have tough news for you. I want to farm chirimoyas when I grow up.

Also at the market, I had my first sampling of local folk medicine. The Quechans (local original indigenous people i.e. similar to the Incans) had several booths with large piles of herbs and flowers stacked up with baskets of eggs accompanying the other items. Our instructor explained they were curanadas (traditional healers). Each of us sat in the chair while the woman put together a fist full of various plants including herbs that smelled like mint and beautiful white orchids. Then, we were hit with the handful of plants over and over covering our entire bodies! What a rush! Getting beaten with smelly organic material! After a few minutes of this, the curanada took a fresh egg and rubs our bodies with it, while at the same time chanting the local version of, "Get out! Get out! Get out!" (At first I thought she was talking to me, but right as I was about to comply with her incessant demands, my teacher explained she was referring to the negative energy in me. Whew, close call!) Finishing this entire ritual, three crosses were smeared on my body with an ashy substance. And then, a handful of very aromatic oil was placed into my hands to be rubbed on my face and in my hair. How refreshing!

Oh, I forgot the best part. Between the egg rubbing and the ash placing, the woman took a large mouthful of water and sprayed it onto my face. In shock, confused and a bit scared I sat there stunned. She then proceeded to take two more mouthfuls of water and blow them on my stomach and back progressively. Wow, what a rush! I paid for someone to spit on me!

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Enough story telling and nonsense for today. I have a fiesta to prepare for.

Affectionately yours,

Audie

A juice ¿no me gusta?

2005-07-07T13:10:00.000-05:00

Another funny experience with the language barrier. Actually I have had many, but this one was particularly hilarious. Rich, one the British students in my group, was trying to describe different foods he enjoys at desayuno (breakfast) and he mentioned he especially enjoys jugo pene (penis juice) instead of jugo piña (pineapple juice)! Wow. I wish I had a picture of Fausto´s face.

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Pictures! Pictures! Pictures! I have finally figured out a way to show you some pictures. Follow this link: http://www.flickr.com/photos/30447231@N00/ to see some pictures of graduation and two of Cuenca. I am sorry I do not have more as of yet. The computers and Internet are painfully slow. It took me twenty minutes just to upload these two photos. I will try to put some new photos up every few days or so.

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Last night we salsa danced the hours away. It will be fun to achieve a level of proficiency with the dancing, so I can bust a move when we go out to the salsatecas.

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Good news on the cheese front! Today I was surprised at breakfast with a new type of tasty fermented milk. This time it wasn´t goat, but cow! Hooray for change! I had the requisite hot milk con chocolate y azucar (chocolate and sugar), three pieces of bread and cheese!

I miss bacon. Eggs. Cereal.

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We learned sixty-nine new verbs today in class. I am pumped. Now I can actually communicate a fair degree of information as long as it is happening as I communicate or will happen in the future. I´ve always said people should not dwell on the past.

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Hey everyone. Note to self: if you ever travel to a foreign country and want to learn the language, take a dictionary so you can translate. I went to a bookstore yesterday to find a dictionary with Spanish and English and all they had were Spanish-Deutsch, Spanish-Swahili, Spanish-Tobago, Spanish-Martian, Spanish-Who-Knows-What-Language-Only-Two-People-In-The-World-Speak-It AND NO Spanish-English! Ha! Who wants to translate between those two languages? Not me! Not me!

Enough pain for today. I have to run home to have lunch with my host-family. Then, study, study, study!

Till mañana!

Yes, I am a gringo

2005-07-06T17:43:00.000-05:00

Okay, quick update. I almost died since I left on one account only: I have not had my daily ice cream. So, with dedication I set out to find the comida (food) of choice to prevent eminent death.

I stumbled upon a beautiful restaurant offering a wide variety of the creamy nectar. With lightening quick speed I ordered helado de coco (coconut ice cream). Happily, I left after paying $0.50 and walked down the sidewalk in the pouring rain towards the school. As I passed a local school-age girl I saw her give me and my ice cream a disgusted look and then she turned to her friend and quite audibly exclaimed, "Gringo."

Ahahahaha. Obviously Ecuador does not yet know my true nature. When they do, there will be a storm of helado of the likes never seen before--rain or shine.

The new weight watch plan...

2005-07-06T16:42:00.000-05:00

So, when you think of traditional Ecuadorian dancing what comes to mind? If you are like me before last night, nothing, as I had never seen the dances! Ahh, what a distant memory. Now my innocence is spoiled.

Don´t get me wrong. The dancing lessons at the school were fantastic. For starters, there were only dos hombres (two men, me included) and seis mujeres (six women, me not included). It was a pleasant evening. Our instructor is very friendly. And we all had dreams of dancing the night away before we began.

How do I describe what followed... Let´s see. At first things progressed at a reasonable pace. We were moving left two steps and right two steps with an occasional spin around in a circle waving your arms and smiling. Then, before I had time to comprehend the magnitude of what was happening, the pace quickened. My breath shortened. My thighs burned from these crazy football-esque lunges and hops. Beads of sweat appeared on my brow and trickled into my eyes, blurring my already notoriously poor vision. I looked around to the other students hoping I was not alone in my struggle. What I saw was reminiscent of the athletes in the Olympics after running the mile. Bodies were strewn everywhere gasping for much needed oxygen. Pools of sweat created expanding water hazards on the dance floor. Two of the students had already bowed out, opting instead for a lean against the railing, trying unsuccessfully to stay out of sight of the overly enthusiastic teacher. Okay, so maybe I am stretching the scene a little too much, but trust me, we were exhausted, bewildered, parched and hoping seven o´clock really meant 6:15pm.

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I had a small victory today: I learned how to access the @ symbol on the keyboard! Hooray! Hooray! (Hey, you have to take the small victories when they come.) That´s right gringos, use your @ symbol with ease, because those south of the equator have to work much harder for such luxuries.

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It´s true, my fortune changed. I did not have to eat goat cheese last night! Instead, I was given some type of cheese my host mother referred to as mozzarella. However, never in my life have I tasted mozzarella like that. The jury is still out on what type of cheese it really is....probably goat.

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Went on a city tour yesterday afternoon. The tour was great, except I don´t speak Spanish....

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Tonight, we have our first salsa dancing lessons. Afterwards, we are all going out to the local salsatecas to show off our new skills. Luckily for me and everyone else in the room, I have had at least two weeks of prior lessons back at Albertson College. My new British friend at the school, Rich, is not quite so lucky. As he put it, "When I dance, people get hurt." Remind me not to dance with Rich tonight.

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This weekend I am planning a trip to a local nature reserve: Parque Cajas. The reserve is located high in the Andes outside of my city, Cuenca. There are reportedly over two hundred named alpine lakes and most of the mountain peaks well over 13,000´. I am going with one of my classmates, Mora. Yep, the same one who tried to convince us that Jesus "es el hermano de dios" (reference yesterday´s post).

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I hit another language barrier today. When asked what is my favorite meal of the day i.e. breakfast, lunch or dinner (en espanol of course) I replied confidently, "potato". I guess Idaho blood runs deep in my veins.

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FAVORITE SAYING OF THE DAY:

Rich when he can´t figure out the Spanish and resorts to, "Bloody Hell!" He´s British after all.

BEST FOOD OF THE DAY:

An incredible pudding at lunch. I cannot even begin to express how good it was. Seriously. (It was probably some rare form of goat cheese. It turns out my host family is actually part of the TV Boiling Point where they test people´s patience and try to get them to explode in anger. I am not giving in. Nope, not me.)

MISC.

My feet hurt from dancing last night.

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Keep the e-mails coming--I miss talking to everyone. Can you believe it, I am not on my cell phone 24 hours every day =) Oh, I have looked at them already--don´t worry.

With love,

Audie

Fourth of July

2005-07-05T15:55:00.000-05:00

Wow. Last night was incredible. To celebrate the Fourth of July a group of us from the Simon-Bolivar language school went to a local bar-restaurant owned by two expats from America. I had read about the bar and its owners and was very excited to finally see the joint. Not bad it turns out!

The best part about our group of twelve was that seven of the twelve were from Britain and the other five, including myself, were from the good ol´USA. =) Needless to say we had some friendly yelling matches about the importance of the holiday. For food, the bar served a tremendous buffet of homemade meatloaf, mash potatoes, potato salad, sloppy joes, etc. I did not participate as it cost $7, which is very expensive by Ecuadorian standards. Instead, I enjoyed my first taste of Yucca Cheese Cakes (yes, the succulent). They were quite tasty!

Over a few cervazas and a couple of hours, I am proud to report that we have mended the wounds from the last two-hundred years. It only took meeting on neutral ground (as far as I know neither one of our countries has occupied Ecuador recently) and some patience =)

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In class today we had a rather funny experience regarding learning a new language. Mora, a twenty-eight year old doctoral student from Washington D.C., was trying to explain the importance of Jesus as the dialogue was about famous people in history. Our instructor, Fausto, asked her why Jesus was important and Mora responded in Spanish, Because he is the brother of God. We all laughed quite hard when Mora discovered her mistake in horror. You didn´t know that part of the Bible eh?

Everything is going very well. Everything that is, except the damn goat cheese I have to eat at every single meal with my host family. I love them, but the cheese has got to stop. In fact, this morning when I woke for breakfast I literally prayed for something other than goat cheese. Nope. Oh well, you win some and you lose some. (I am, however, developing a taste for warm milk. Yep, that´s right, my family doesn´t refrigerate the milk. It is quite good!)

Well, I have to go now. I am going on a walking tour of the city with my school and then we are going to learn some traditional Andean dancing.

Till next time!

Planning for travels

2005-05-23T15:38:00.000-05:00

I received my new passport today via mail and the reality of my departure registered in my mind on a new level. I am still not entirely sure of what I am doing, leaving all I know behind to embark on this adventure. This last week I felt a potent mix of nostalgia, terror, excitement, and even a little bewilderment, which is in part why I have decided, somewhat sporadically, to go to Ecuador. That is, because I will be challenged, stretched, and forced to grow in ways I still am unaware.

My hope is that this will act as a portal to friends and family back home to savor parts of my experience as best as I can share them. For this journey does not only affect me, but many people in my life, some more deeply than others. To each of you who have sacraficed much to make this wild dream a reality, thank you.