We left Cuenca in a van driven by one of Maria’s cousins, Pablos and his wife and two children. (I found out that Maria’s mother and father have 200 cousins between them. Maria can’t even count the number she has.) For $250 they agreed to take us from Cuenca to Quito with a stop in Riobamba for the night.
That plan lasted until about 9am the morning of our departure when Maria and her parents decided to join us. A new plan was devised that would take all of us to Banos and the jungle community of Puyo on our way to Quito. At 9:10 the plan changed again when Maria and her parents decided they really couldn’t go after all. After some pleading and logistical negotiation, the plan was back on at 9:20. I agreed to drive the Arce’s car if needed because Maria was too tired.(She stayed up the entire night before and then serenaded in front of our house at 6am with several friends. Liz and Anne Nelson got up to listen but the rest of us covered our heads with our pillows and waited for it to end.) Anyway, we also offered to take the bus from Banos to Quito so that the family could caravan back to Cuenca together on Sunday.
I didn’t understand why that was so important until we started driving through the mountains north of Cuenca. The roads are narrow and you’re either driving up a mountain or down so it’s one switchback after another. That would be OK except for the fact that the roads go from paved to gravel, mud and potholes and then back again without warning. Add to that the fact that Pablo likes to accelerate as he comes into the turn, not out, and things start to get interesting. Then throw in the young children operating makeshift toll stations using rope strung across the road I’m beginning to feel pain in my chest. Of course Pablo doesn’t slow down to pay the renegade toll collectors, he speeds up and for a few moments we play a game of chicken with 10 year olds as they hold the rope tight about 2 or 3 feet off the ground as the van accelerates toward it. Then, at the last second, they drop the rope in frustration and the van races on. Oh, I almost forgot the stray animals and people that seem to wander on to the “highway” without warning. About an hour into the trip, I’m sweating, I’m nauseous and I’m thinking about what trauma care in Riobamba looks like. That's when the praying started.
About three and a half hours into the trip my prayers were answered as the valley seemed to open up and the the words "straight" and "flat" began to have some relevance again. When we arrived in Riobamba, I was grateful that the Arce’s had suggested that we go to Banos. We didn’t go all the way downtown in Riobamba but it looked just like many of the other Ecuadorian towns we had seen, dusty, congested, and run down looking. As we stopped for lunch at an Asadero (chicken grill) I noted a grey haze that seemed to envelope the whole town and piles of dust and dirt everywhere. Pablo informed me that it was from the recent volcanic eruption at Tumburayho, right next to our destination, Banos. He assured me that it would be better in Banos because the prevailing winds had carried that ash away from Banos and he was right, Banos was almost completely free of volcanic ash. The main road into Banos, however, had been completely destroyed so we had to drive north to Ambato and then back south to Banos. Even the road we took had been destroyed in one section by the volcano and was now passable by means of a temporary road that was cut through the volcanic pumice that covered everthing.
The volcano itself was a breathtaking sight. Smoke and steam still billowed from the crater which is perched about 10,000 feet above the town and 18,000 feet above sea level. Our host at the Isla de Banos Hosteria informed us that the volcano had erupted twice in the last 60 days, first on July 14th and more recently on August 16th. Scientists were predicting that it would erupt again but were uncertain about when. Using my own mathematical prowess, I immediately identified the beginnings of a pattern and deduced that it would not erupt again until sometime around September 16th or 18th and it was only the 8th . That seemed to pacify the kids' fear that it would erupt again while we were there but Liz was less than impressed. To be safe, I inquired about what early warning signals we would get if the volcano blew. Turns out, there really aren’t any. Christian (the owner of the Hostaria) told me that during the last eruption, the windows began to vibrate during the eruption, about the same time that rocks began raining down on Banos. In areas west of the town, however, entire buildings shook and many were reduced to rubble. This was not comforting news but I held fast to my math and fortunately, we were safe for the two nights we stayed there.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
9/2-9/3 The Farm
We visited the Arces’ “farm” this past weekend. It is actually a country home. It is up in the mountains about 30 minutes from the city. It sits on about two hectares of land. A hectare is 10,000 square meters or about 2.47 acres. A small village is a 10 minute walk. The farm is planted with a large variety of fruit trees and seasonal corn crops. The original house is constructed of mud and straw but is now used for storage and the guinea pig pen. There is one bed in the corner that is used sometimes by the housekeeper (Maria). The rest of the house is a series of additions that dwarf the original house. Altogeher, I think there is bed space for about 16. It was a beautiful setting. The only turn off was the garbage that littered the landscape. Maria informed us that there is no garbage pickup in the country so everyone burns their trash. The problem is that much of the garbage never makes it to the fire pit. We picked up garbage around the property and put it next to the driveway. When we woke up on Sunday we found the garbage had been burned right where it sat, plastic bottles and all.
Here we finally got to eat guinea pig! We not only ate it but got to play with them before the slaughter. They look just like the pets we have at home. Just like “Mr. C” whom I kept in the bathtub – remember Mom? Mr. Arce cooked the guinea pig whole (head and ears to tail) over the burning coals outside as we played volleyball. Those of you who know me well are probably wondering if I ate the guinea pig. I did try it and it’s pretty good. It is a bit chewy with an alfalfa taste. Frank and Anne Nelson especially liked it but I’m not sure anyone would go out of their way to find it. We also ate Ecuadorian crab from the Manta region. We carried about 40 of them live in the back of the car. They are larger than blue crabs but smaller than king crabs. They looked just like a cartoon version of crab, very colorful with eyes that extended way outside their heads. Maria’s family boiled them in some sort of concoction and then proceeded to eat everything that wasn’t a shell. It looked like something you’d see on fear factor.
We played lots of volleyball and croquet, drank the Ecuadorian liquor (called Zhumir) and stayed up too late. Cousins cam over on Sunday and Frank grilled Chicken, Sausage and beef for the crowd. Maria had bought fillet of beef and of course Frank cooked it medium rare. Unfortunately, no one in Maria’s family wanted rare beef so they all put their fillets back on the grill. We reluctantly drove back to the city late Sunday. The kids really loved the farm and would have stayed a few more days if we had let them.
We met a memorable young boy named Jose at the “farm”. He is 11 years old and is the son of the housekeeper, Maria. He was so curious about the “gringos”… interested in our books, language, culture. He seemed so bright and enthusiastic. He took some of us on a walk and we were lucky enough to stop at his home. His house is made out of mud and straw and has one room where the guinea pigs take up most of the space. But they had a fire in the house and it was actually quite cozy. I wanted to hang out there for a while. His grandmother whispered something in my ear while I was there. I’m sure it was the meaning of life. Wouldn’t that be just my luck…. I finally find out what I’m here for and God sends it in a different language. He has a sense of humor like that.
So, I’m ready to adopt Jose. I have 8 months to pray on that. I’ll post again soon. We love you! Liz
Here we finally got to eat guinea pig! We not only ate it but got to play with them before the slaughter. They look just like the pets we have at home. Just like “Mr. C” whom I kept in the bathtub – remember Mom? Mr. Arce cooked the guinea pig whole (head and ears to tail) over the burning coals outside as we played volleyball. Those of you who know me well are probably wondering if I ate the guinea pig. I did try it and it’s pretty good. It is a bit chewy with an alfalfa taste. Frank and Anne Nelson especially liked it but I’m not sure anyone would go out of their way to find it. We also ate Ecuadorian crab from the Manta region. We carried about 40 of them live in the back of the car. They are larger than blue crabs but smaller than king crabs. They looked just like a cartoon version of crab, very colorful with eyes that extended way outside their heads. Maria’s family boiled them in some sort of concoction and then proceeded to eat everything that wasn’t a shell. It looked like something you’d see on fear factor.
We played lots of volleyball and croquet, drank the Ecuadorian liquor (called Zhumir) and stayed up too late. Cousins cam over on Sunday and Frank grilled Chicken, Sausage and beef for the crowd. Maria had bought fillet of beef and of course Frank cooked it medium rare. Unfortunately, no one in Maria’s family wanted rare beef so they all put their fillets back on the grill. We reluctantly drove back to the city late Sunday. The kids really loved the farm and would have stayed a few more days if we had let them.
We met a memorable young boy named Jose at the “farm”. He is 11 years old and is the son of the housekeeper, Maria. He was so curious about the “gringos”… interested in our books, language, culture. He seemed so bright and enthusiastic. He took some of us on a walk and we were lucky enough to stop at his home. His house is made out of mud and straw and has one room where the guinea pigs take up most of the space. But they had a fire in the house and it was actually quite cozy. I wanted to hang out there for a while. His grandmother whispered something in my ear while I was there. I’m sure it was the meaning of life. Wouldn’t that be just my luck…. I finally find out what I’m here for and God sends it in a different language. He has a sense of humor like that.
So, I’m ready to adopt Jose. I have 8 months to pray on that. I’ll post again soon. We love you! Liz
8/28 - 9/8 Cuenca & the Arces
We’ve heard so much about Cuenca for so long and we’ve heard so much about her loving family. Maria was right…. This is a special place and her family is very loving and welcoming. We are staying in her sisters home which is directly behind her parents home. Cuenca is very charming except for the traffic! The traffic isn’t terribly congested, just disorganized and chaotic. Riding in the car while Maria is driving is similar to riding on Alpengeist at Busch Gardens. Much like Europe, there are lots of roundabouts in Cuenca and getting into and out of each one is a hairraising experience. The setting, however, is spectacular. The city is surrounded by mountains in every direction and you can get up into them in about 15 minutes in any direction. The city is compact but home to about 350,000 people. The old part of the city is a mix of Spainish colonial and more contemporary architecture and the streets generally narrow and paved with cobblestone.
The Arce family lives about 1 mile from the heart of downtown. Their property is about the size of a city lot in Charlottesville (50’x100’) but there are two houses and 3 businesses located on site. The property is walled on all 4 sides and can only be accessed through a series of 2 iron gates with electronically controlled locks and an intercom system. The house we are staying in belongs to Maria’s sister Juany and is accessed through a third iron gate. The who system reminds me of the beginning of the “Get Smart” sitcom that we used to watch when we were kids. I gather security is a concern but we haven’t witnessed or been victim of any type of crime. Every home is secured with a wall and gate so the residential streetscape isn’t exactly inviting. Maria’s father runs a printing business behind the main house. Her oldest Sister Ruth runs a blood lab and her other sister Marcia has a Psychiatric consulting business. Both are located in front of the main house. Between the house and the printing shop there is a courtyard that Maria’s father recently covered with a roof. The floor has been tiled and the area now functions as a large gathering room. The houses are simple and comfortable. On the third floor of the main house, there is an outdoor terrace area and Guinea Pig pen (they’re not pets). Maria notes as we walk through the house that Jesus and Mary are on the walls everywhere, apparently to deter immoral behavior, particularly in the bedrooms.
Being here with Maria is such a blessing. I wish she could travel with us through the rest of South America but her husband isn’t too thrilled with that plan….newlyweds. Maria has shown us all of the historic sites, the “in” places to be, the not-so-safe places to be, she has bargained for us at the markets and fed us new fruits and meats. Thank God for Maria! She is doing a great job of taking care of us (even though we have almost died every time we’ve been in the car with her).
The Arce family lives about 1 mile from the heart of downtown. Their property is about the size of a city lot in Charlottesville (50’x100’) but there are two houses and 3 businesses located on site. The property is walled on all 4 sides and can only be accessed through a series of 2 iron gates with electronically controlled locks and an intercom system. The house we are staying in belongs to Maria’s sister Juany and is accessed through a third iron gate. The who system reminds me of the beginning of the “Get Smart” sitcom that we used to watch when we were kids. I gather security is a concern but we haven’t witnessed or been victim of any type of crime. Every home is secured with a wall and gate so the residential streetscape isn’t exactly inviting. Maria’s father runs a printing business behind the main house. Her oldest Sister Ruth runs a blood lab and her other sister Marcia has a Psychiatric consulting business. Both are located in front of the main house. Between the house and the printing shop there is a courtyard that Maria’s father recently covered with a roof. The floor has been tiled and the area now functions as a large gathering room. The houses are simple and comfortable. On the third floor of the main house, there is an outdoor terrace area and Guinea Pig pen (they’re not pets). Maria notes as we walk through the house that Jesus and Mary are on the walls everywhere, apparently to deter immoral behavior, particularly in the bedrooms.
Being here with Maria is such a blessing. I wish she could travel with us through the rest of South America but her husband isn’t too thrilled with that plan….newlyweds. Maria has shown us all of the historic sites, the “in” places to be, the not-so-safe places to be, she has bargained for us at the markets and fed us new fruits and meats. Thank God for Maria! She is doing a great job of taking care of us (even though we have almost died every time we’ve been in the car with her).
Monday, September 04, 2006
See our photos
Finally, we have found a way to upload photos. Click on the link in the right hand margin.
8/28/2006 Cuenca. Getting educated.
We started home schooling on Monday. The kids were eager to begin and had definite ideas about how work should be organized and information communicated. The first couple of days were a great success until I called the group together for their first history lesson on Ecuador. We were planning a trip to the museum that day and I figured we should all have a broad overview before the trip. Midlife lesson number 341: never lecture to an 8 year old ask or ask them to take notes during a lesson. It took us 20 minutes to get through the first two sentences of the history summary that I had printed off the internet. The first few minutes went something like this:
“There is evidence that people..”.
“Stop Daddy, I can’t write that fast. T H E R E I S, how do you spell evidence?
What does evidence mean?”
I tried to begin again, “You don’t need to write down everything, just the reall y important things and I’ll tell you what those are. So there were that people lived in Ecuador 10,000 years BC. Does anyone know what BC means?”
Liza was already on the verge of tears. “Daddy, I have to write down everthing because that’s the only way I can remember it!”
Things only got worse from there as I tried to explain that the purpose of this exercise was just to give everyone a general overview of Ecuadorian history so that the museum would make more sense. Everyone except Jacob tuned out at that point and I realized that my teaching skills needed some serious improvement.
My history fiasco notwithstanding, home schooling has been a success. The kids really enjoy doing it every day and Liz and I have enjoyed helping them. I’ve learned pre-algebra again (but of course act like I remember it all from my school days). Fortunately, I’ve got a fairly good grasp of 3rd and 6th grade math although the terms they use these days are confusing. We’ve tried to get in a couple of hours of home schooling a day unless we are going on a field trip (any trip out of the house is considered a field trip). At night, the girls want homework to do which can be taxing if you’ve had a couple of Vodka and tonics. But that’s another story.
We ventured to a couple of Museums on Ecuadorian and Incan history this week. The first was filled with relics of early tribes from different areas of the country. The second included life size representations of Ecuadorian homes from coastal, highlands and jungle areas as well as extensive Incan ruins, an aviary and gardens with indigenous species that are important to Ecuadorian history. All of us were struck by the incredible diversity both environmental and anthropological. The result is a cultural stew of indigenous, Incan, and Spanish, overlaid with a topping of US influence, mostly from the media. I could spend more time educating you on Ecuadorian history but I’ll spare you the lecture until I improve my teaching skills.
The kids all seemed to really enjoy the museums and a lunch of regional specialties that included Mota (boiled corn that looks like popcorn but tastes more like potatoes), Roast Pork, Pollo, Yucca, Hominy, and some sort of sweet cornbread wrapped in banana leaf. More about the food in a future entry.
“There is evidence that people..”.
“Stop Daddy, I can’t write that fast. T H E R E I S, how do you spell evidence?
What does evidence mean?”
I tried to begin again, “You don’t need to write down everything, just the reall y important things and I’ll tell you what those are. So there were that people lived in Ecuador 10,000 years BC. Does anyone know what BC means?”
Liza was already on the verge of tears. “Daddy, I have to write down everthing because that’s the only way I can remember it!”
Things only got worse from there as I tried to explain that the purpose of this exercise was just to give everyone a general overview of Ecuadorian history so that the museum would make more sense. Everyone except Jacob tuned out at that point and I realized that my teaching skills needed some serious improvement.
My history fiasco notwithstanding, home schooling has been a success. The kids really enjoy doing it every day and Liz and I have enjoyed helping them. I’ve learned pre-algebra again (but of course act like I remember it all from my school days). Fortunately, I’ve got a fairly good grasp of 3rd and 6th grade math although the terms they use these days are confusing. We’ve tried to get in a couple of hours of home schooling a day unless we are going on a field trip (any trip out of the house is considered a field trip). At night, the girls want homework to do which can be taxing if you’ve had a couple of Vodka and tonics. But that’s another story.
We ventured to a couple of Museums on Ecuadorian and Incan history this week. The first was filled with relics of early tribes from different areas of the country. The second included life size representations of Ecuadorian homes from coastal, highlands and jungle areas as well as extensive Incan ruins, an aviary and gardens with indigenous species that are important to Ecuadorian history. All of us were struck by the incredible diversity both environmental and anthropological. The result is a cultural stew of indigenous, Incan, and Spanish, overlaid with a topping of US influence, mostly from the media. I could spend more time educating you on Ecuadorian history but I’ll spare you the lecture until I improve my teaching skills.
The kids all seemed to really enjoy the museums and a lunch of regional specialties that included Mota (boiled corn that looks like popcorn but tastes more like potatoes), Roast Pork, Pollo, Yucca, Hominy, and some sort of sweet cornbread wrapped in banana leaf. More about the food in a future entry.
Friday, September 01, 2006
8/27/2006 – 9/1/2006 Cuenca
After a week of rice,aji and unrecognizable seafood and fruit, we were all in the mood for some pizza when we arrived in Cuenca. Of course the trip there is worthy of some coverage before I tell you about our pizza experience. We all thought the trip from Punta Blanca to Cuenca would take about four and a half hours. After all, that’s what Maria had told us: 2 hours to Guayaquil and 2.5 hours from Guayaquil to Cuenca. Well, we hired a van and a driver to take us. Maria and her family had tried to convince us that 16 of us could fit into 3 small cars (and I do mean small) with luggage. I think they were offended when we elected to hire the van. It wasn’t just the space problem. Maria had to take Brad to airport at 5:30 AM and since she was leaving, all of Maria’s family decided to leave at the same time. That mean’t they had to get up at about 4:30am to get packed and straighten up the house. We couldn’t understand why everyone had to leave at the same time but Maria said it was typical of her family. They all wanted to send Brad off and show him they cared. It was very sweet and completely foreign to our American minds. Anyway, getting back to the story, it took us an hour and fifteen minutes to get to Guayaquil and another 4.5 hours to get to Cuenca.
Much of the trip to Cuenca I spent going up, way up. The Cajas mountains are part of the chain of Andes that divide Equador into three regions. The chain is home to 30 Volcanos, 7 of which are active. The highest of those is Chimborazo at almost 21,000 feet. But the Cajas peak out at about 13,000 feet, still enough to make me lightheaded as we traversed up winding roads through intense fog. That would be challenging enough in America but here, you throw in the occasional rock slide or washed out road, a steady stream of busses that occupied most of the available pavement, indigenous folks with livestock and you begin to realize why it takes 4.5 hours to get about 120 miles.
We were traveling with 2 men in the front of the van, one of whom we knew indirectly because he Maria’s cousin and the brother of an Ecuadorian girl in Charlottesville, Mariella, who often babysat the kids when they were younger. John’s job was to get us to Maria’s home. Of course, as soon as we hit the outskirts of town, John made the driver stop the van and declared that he didn’t know where Maria’s house was. At that point, we tried to contact Maria but to no avail. Finally, John called his sister Mariella in Virginia and hands the phone to me. I had a nice chat with Mariella but she had no idea how to get us to Maria’s house so we sat on the side of the road in Cuenca for close to an hour.
Finally, John decides to stop a cab and ask if he knows where Maria lives. We then follow the cab through a seemingly endless maze of streets that don’t go to Maria’s house. Finally the cab leaves us and John stops some guy that he seems to know in a small red car and we begin following him. Low and behold, we finally arrive in front of a home that John declares to be the ARCE house. Unfortunately, there is no one home. We tried to imagine how Maria and her family could leave 5 hours before us and still not be home and surprisingly we were successful. They had managed to turn a 1.5 hour trip from Guayaquil to the beach into a more than 3 hour trip so anything seemed possible for the return. Anyway, John and the driver waited patiently with us for about 30 minutes until Maria and her family showed up. So began our Cuenca adventure.
We all had a taste for pizza that first night in Cuenca and the Pizza Hut sounded like a safe, if predictable solution. Maria assured us that it would meet our expectations and when we asked about the salad, she confidently gave us the green light. One week of bizarre food that was purchased and prepared without regard for sanitation or refrigeration and it was the Pizza Hut that did us in. I was the first to show symptoms but in the days that followed, everyone but Liz got sick. She was so excited that I had gotten sick and she hadn’t because it has been years since I was last sick.
We didn’t do much in the first few days because someone was always sick but we we did manage to get to the open air food market and the craft market. Ecuadorian wool goods, leather and art are a wonderful bargain. So is the food. There were simple pleasures of shopping like buying a bag of 6 tomatoes for a dollar or a fine bottle of Ecuadorian vodka for $3.68. Bottled water cost about 25 cents. Maria reminded often that we should not allow ourselves to be ripped off by the locals and would negotiate ridiculous prices even lower. She assured me that to pay more than $1.50 for a lovely wool and leather pocketbook was something only a dumb gringo tourist would do and I certainly didn’t’ want to be one of those. Never mind that every outward impression I conveyed each day was precisely that of a dumb gringo.
Much of the trip to Cuenca I spent going up, way up. The Cajas mountains are part of the chain of Andes that divide Equador into three regions. The chain is home to 30 Volcanos, 7 of which are active. The highest of those is Chimborazo at almost 21,000 feet. But the Cajas peak out at about 13,000 feet, still enough to make me lightheaded as we traversed up winding roads through intense fog. That would be challenging enough in America but here, you throw in the occasional rock slide or washed out road, a steady stream of busses that occupied most of the available pavement, indigenous folks with livestock and you begin to realize why it takes 4.5 hours to get about 120 miles.
We were traveling with 2 men in the front of the van, one of whom we knew indirectly because he Maria’s cousin and the brother of an Ecuadorian girl in Charlottesville, Mariella, who often babysat the kids when they were younger. John’s job was to get us to Maria’s home. Of course, as soon as we hit the outskirts of town, John made the driver stop the van and declared that he didn’t know where Maria’s house was. At that point, we tried to contact Maria but to no avail. Finally, John called his sister Mariella in Virginia and hands the phone to me. I had a nice chat with Mariella but she had no idea how to get us to Maria’s house so we sat on the side of the road in Cuenca for close to an hour.
Finally, John decides to stop a cab and ask if he knows where Maria lives. We then follow the cab through a seemingly endless maze of streets that don’t go to Maria’s house. Finally the cab leaves us and John stops some guy that he seems to know in a small red car and we begin following him. Low and behold, we finally arrive in front of a home that John declares to be the ARCE house. Unfortunately, there is no one home. We tried to imagine how Maria and her family could leave 5 hours before us and still not be home and surprisingly we were successful. They had managed to turn a 1.5 hour trip from Guayaquil to the beach into a more than 3 hour trip so anything seemed possible for the return. Anyway, John and the driver waited patiently with us for about 30 minutes until Maria and her family showed up. So began our Cuenca adventure.
We all had a taste for pizza that first night in Cuenca and the Pizza Hut sounded like a safe, if predictable solution. Maria assured us that it would meet our expectations and when we asked about the salad, she confidently gave us the green light. One week of bizarre food that was purchased and prepared without regard for sanitation or refrigeration and it was the Pizza Hut that did us in. I was the first to show symptoms but in the days that followed, everyone but Liz got sick. She was so excited that I had gotten sick and she hadn’t because it has been years since I was last sick.
We didn’t do much in the first few days because someone was always sick but we we did manage to get to the open air food market and the craft market. Ecuadorian wool goods, leather and art are a wonderful bargain. So is the food. There were simple pleasures of shopping like buying a bag of 6 tomatoes for a dollar or a fine bottle of Ecuadorian vodka for $3.68. Bottled water cost about 25 cents. Maria reminded often that we should not allow ourselves to be ripped off by the locals and would negotiate ridiculous prices even lower. She assured me that to pay more than $1.50 for a lovely wool and leather pocketbook was something only a dumb gringo tourist would do and I certainly didn’t’ want to be one of those. Never mind that every outward impression I conveyed each day was precisely that of a dumb gringo.
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