Farewell, Ecuador

Is that Cotopaxi?  Or is it Chimborazo?  Thrilling flight from Cuenca to Quito.

It's Wednesday night and we're back in Madison.  The past three weeks have been a gift, like a warm and multi-faceted jewel tucked into my memory.  I woke up this morning in Chicago, my mind back in Cuenca at the jazz club with the Cuban professor at the piano just a few feet in front of us, the snowy-haired Cuban man rising from the audience to sing my request: "Y Tu? Que Has Hecho con mi Pobre Flor?"  I wasn't dreaming!  We'd really been there!

I stayed up late the night before last, struggling with the ornery computer at our hotel in Cuenca, only to find out that the internet had gone down and I couldn't publish the post!  Arrrgh!  Here's what I wrote, 48 hours ago:

What an incredible three weeks these have been!  New to me was traveling as part of a trio; it was remarkably smooth, and I know we're not only still friends, but closer than ever.

I'm grateful to Helen — Thanks, Helen, for having come up with the idea in the first place, and for making all the arrangements with your son, Greg, for our visit with the Huaorani people.  And thanks for bringing Peace Corps Volunteer Rachel to us in Ambato!  And for introducing us to Charlie, who in turn brought us into the expatriate community in Cuenca for a remarkable night at the international jazz club — one of so many unexpected happenings on this trip.  Thanks for being the phenomenal model that you are — of physical strength, agility and endurance, unceasingly up for whatever the day brings, unfailingly cheerful and positive.

I'm grateful to Sara — Thanks, Sara, for bringing us to all the people with whom you are connected here in Ecuador and Peru.  When I count the richest experiences here in Ecuador, they surely include our time with these wonderful people — Carmen and Carlos in Otavalo, the Kichua teachers at the bilingual school in Salasaca (a miracle in itself,) Delia and Julio and Julio's lovely family in Baños, and then PCV Sylvia who traveled here from Peru, 7 hours each way, to spend just a wee quick evening with us here in Cuenca.  Thanks, Sara, for your irreverent wit and your infectious laughter!  You kept us going!

It's been great!  And just enough.  I'm ready to go home.  I think wandering around a country for three weeks is all I can do.  I'd be happy staying longer in this beautiful place if I had a role here, a function, something to do that would connect me with the Ecuadorian people.  Something that would make me belong here in some way.  As it is, I've been the extranjera, walking the streets with my camera, looking at people, being an obvious outsider, offering nothing but a few tourist coins to the economy.

I did something different today — went to the post office to mail a book to the school in Salasaca.  You'd think this would be a quick and boring chore, but not so!  I loved every part of it — purchasing a manila envelope at the papelería, figuring out how to address an envelope here, (did you know that Salasaca is in the Province of Tungurahua?) leaving the envelope OPEN so that the post office employee can see what's inside and then letting the post office seal the package, showing a copy of my passport to the post office clerk!  All of this was extremely satisfying as it took me into real life here in Ecuador, gave me a glimpse of how ordinary people get one little thing done.

One of our taxi drivers yesterday mentioned that his wife and sons ran a zapatería — they make shoes and other leather goods and sell them.  He gave me the address.  Of course, I misunderstood the address and spent the better part of the morning trying to find the shop.  On the third try, after wearing out a good deal of my own shoe leather, I did find it!  And the woman who came to the counter really was the taxi driver's wife!  I got way more out of that experience than the two coin purses I purchased from the taxi driver's wife for $2 each.

After leaving the shoe shop, I stumbled into a wonderful museum just a few blocks away — Museo Manuel Agustín Landívar: Vestigios de Todos Los Santos.  It's connected to a small bit of ruins including not only Spanish and Inca structures, but remnants of the pre-Incan Cañari people.  I interrupted the lunch of the sole employee at the museum, a lovely curator who happily walked me down to a gate along the sidewalk, opened it, said I could walk around the ruins at my leisure.  The curator spoke in Spanish, explained that the Cañari civilization flourished here until about 1440 when the Incas arrived and took over.  So the Quichua language, imposed upon the Cañari by the Inca, is actually peppered here in Cuenca with some old bits of Cañari.  And, she said that everywhere you go in Ecuador, Quichua-speaking people are speaking a variety of Quichua which incorporates some of whatever people spoke before the Inca arrived, and that varies from region to region.  

A few photos from the last two days of wandering the streets in Cuenca:

Mural on the wall of a building in center city

Murals along the river walk

Note the hummingbird and the pig on a vertical spit.

Sylvia Kaufman rode a bus for 7 hours from La Cruz, Peru, to Cuenca, spent the evening with us, and then got back on the bus to Peru at 7:15 am the next day.  What a woman!  She surely must be a terrific Peace Corps Volunteer.  (Sylvia's stationed in the very same town that Sara was in; they had a lot to talk about!)

Here we are with Sylvia at Café Eucalyptus, where we had curry and ravioli!

Lots and lots of political graffiti; I can't figure this one out.

If God exists, he dines at the boss' table.

Inca ruins; reminds me of what I remember seeing at Machu Picchu.

Tightly fitted stones similar to those in Peru; so amazing

This wall was constructed by the Cañari before the Inca arrived.

Very rough translation:  Walker with eyes open... reforestation grows on the walls.   

Live free.

Liberty does not have property.

The "Tin Man" —  Carlos Bustos Fernandez.  It was a rare treat to stumble upon his workshop.

International presence...  Dubai...

Morocco...

We think this one's Volcán Tungurahua, as there's no snow on top.  (It's active.)  The flight from Cuenca to Quito was the first of our three flights on Tuesday, December 4.

When we got to Quito, we were greeted at the airport by Carmen and Carlos, who had driven down from Otavalo to bid us farewell and to bring us our extra baggage which they had kept for us while we traveled South.  (What a gift that was, not to have to lug all that stuff around!)  

Also greeting us at the Quito airport were Jascivan Carvalho, the owner of Tropic Journeys in Nature, and Xavier Neira, who had been our naturalist guide among the Huaorani.  It was great to see Xavier again, and to meet Jasci, who is a friend of Helen's son, Greg.

We knew exactly what to do with our very last moments in Ecuador!  Ice cream at the Quito airport!

Ciao!  

Phyllis

Almost the end of a wonderful adventure

Today is our last day in Cuenca, tomorrow we fly to Quito and then Chicago.   I hear a little voice in my head saying, ¨"What, no more Ecuador, no more Latin America??" at the same time as I anticipate with pleasure seeing my family and friends at home.   We've truly had a grand adventure.   I can't count how many times we've been asked if we were traveling with a guide with an astonished response when people realize we are navigating on our own.

Yesterday morning we set off to see 3 neighboring villages that were reputed to have find artisans and craft markets.   After some confusion in the first town, we were told they really didn´t have a market.   On to a town reputed for it's silver work.   Again a disappointment so we skipped the 3rd town and got a cab ride back to Cuenca.   The cab driver talked all the way, pointing out an area devastated by a landslide caused by careless mining at the base of a mountain while people lived above where they were mining.   He was most interesting, giving us a mini-class on the environment, the state of the current government and more.   

In the afternoon, we were graced with a visit from Sylvia Kaufman, the current Peace Corps volunteer in my site of La Cruz, Tumbes.   She traveled by bus for 7 hours to spend the evening with us and then headed back at 7 this morning.   Sylvia and I had been introduced by e-mail but had never met face to face so it was just wonderful to have this time with her.   We took her to dinner at a place that had Indian food and shared vegetable curries, garlic nan, spicy potatoes and ravioli.   International dinner followed by wonderful ice cream.   Then we took a cab ride to a place where we could have an overview of this city of 400,000 at night.  Sylvia and I stayed up almost to midnight sharing stories and then we saw her off on a very early bus.   We all were delighted to meet her, hear about her life and relish her enthusiasm, creativity and energy.

Today, Phyllis had quite a few things she wanted to do in Cuenca so she traveled through the city by herself.   Helen and I wandered at a slower pace, found a yarn shop so I have a project for the plane ride home, watched a metal worker make his beautiful tin work and made some purchases from him, and I took a much needed nap.   We sat for some time in the beautiful sculpture garden of the museum of modern art nearby.   The garden was a peaceful oasis from the traffic, busses, exhaust and noise of the streets.   We watched a very large dark green hummingbird flit from tree to tree.

We've been the recipients of much wonderful hospitality and had many magic moments throughout this trip.   Being robbed at the bus station was simply a reminder to stay awake and alert as well as motivation to go back to keeping my money in my bra AKA Peace Corps days.   We've stayed in great places, enjoyed each other's company, stayed in good health and traveled safe even through mountain roads and fog.

I feel most grateful for this whole journey.

Sara

Cajas National Park

Yesterday, I was rather overwhelmed by the city of Cuenca with it's narrow streets, intense traffic and noise.   I could see mountains at the end of narrow streets but not get any real sense of the setting.   So we decided to go to Cajas National Park about 45 minutes southwest of Cuenca today.   We got to the bus terminal and went around in circles for awhile with cranky folks telling us, go here, go there, through that gate, no, that one!   Finally on the right bus we wound steadily uphill through the mountains, looking back at Cuenca which was lovely from above.   After about 45 minutes, the driver pulled off at a parking lot and let us out a good distance from the park entrance and ranger station.   We got to the ranger station only to learn that our destination, Lake of the Torreadores was 6km further along the road but no worries, the ranger drove us to the lake.

Incredible, simply breathtaking both as a view and for lungs accustomed to sea level altitudes.   The mountains rise in all directions from a high altitude grassland also referred to as moors or in Spanish, paramo.   We set off hiking a rocky path above the lake with Phyllis taking a slower, shorter route and me following Helen who I have dubbed the mountain goat because she scrambles over any terrain with ease.   The landscape is dotted with tiny jewels of lakes.   We saw fish jumping in the lakes.   We stopped often to admire and photograph TINY wildflowers and succulents.  After a time of walking the clouds were gathering and we could see rain in the distance.   As we were WAY above treeline, Helen and I started back after sitting a moment on a rock and singing.   I found I was huffing and puffing, Helen was a bit dizzy and we moved slowly at 13,000 feet.   We wanted to get back before the storm as thunder and lightening were likely and we were a long way above treeline, maybe several miles.

We arrived back at the ranger station just moments before rain, hail, thunder and lightening hit.   The area near the ranger station had some beautiful trees with shaggy red/brown bark which the ranger said were quinoa trees or paper bark trees.  Phyllis was waiting in the adjacent restuarant so we ordered hot drinks, grilled trout and potatoes for a meal to enjoy while hail slid down the windows.

Then we walked to a small open bus shelter by the road to flag down a passing bus.   Fairly promptly a pick-up with a back seat stopped and offered us a ride.   A moment's scrutiny gave me the information that the guy looked amiable and hadn't been drinking so we hopped in and went with him to Cuenca.   He looked at us and quickly turned on the heat!  We were most grateful for the ride even if he did cross himself before passing on blind curves.   Asi es la vida en el sur de america.   Hopefully my son is not following this blog...

Back in Cuenca, we took naps and walked to a Colombian restaurant for thick corn tortillas called arepas covered with beans, meat and cheese.   Delicious.    

Six word story for the day.  Bus, mountains, lakes, breathtaking, storm, thrilling.

Sara

More Cuenca Street Scenes

Photos from Parque Nacional Cajas

Kids in a Karate class right where we stepped off the bus near the entrance to the park. 

Laguna Toreadora, elevation about 13,000 feet

A little waterfall above the lake

Sara and Helen, quite cold, waiting for a bus to take us back to Cuenca.  In less than a minute, we accepted a ride from a stranger in his car.  It was perfectly OK.

No kidding!  At above 13,000 feet, my coronary arteries were already calling my attention; I took a somewhat shorter path than Helen and Sara and took it REAL SLOW.

Sara and Helen on the hiking trail.  Brrrr.....  gloves would have been nice.

Vegetation at the high elevation fascinated us.

Photo doesn't give any indication of the scale.  These flowers are teeny tiny: the wee green rosettes covered the ground like closely mown grass.

First Morning in Cuenca

Charlie Fox, good friend of the Findley family, met us at a the Cafe San Sebas this morning! After a most enjoyable time with Charlie and his friend, Rich, we strolled through the museum of modern art and along the banks of a river into the heart of this beautiful city.

Rio Tomebamba

Helen with Charlie Fox, who now lives in Cuenca

On the bus again

Sara here, writing from a lovely hostel in Cuenca

Our day started getting to a cooperativa to catch the bus to Cuenca.   There was a bustle around the bus door getting on and the young woman in front of me suddenly turned and got back off the bus jostling me when she did so.   You guessed it,  when I sat down, I discovered my little kangaroo pack unzipped, my coin purse missing.   I only lost about $5 plus a copy of my passport but  just behind where it had been, my cell phone sat intact.  It was the only time in days I haven't had my vest zipped over my kangaroo.   Grateful for the small loss and the reminder to wake up at bus stations and around the airport.

Then miles and miles of incredibly beautiful mountains, farms and terraced hillside.   Just wonderful.   No loud music, silly slapstick movie.   Many quick stops to let on kids going home from distant schools, indigenous women in bright velvet skirts.   Stop at a unisex bathroom where the men were using the urinal by the wash basin while I walked by to go into a stall.

For a while we were charmed by the clouds over the mountains, then clouds under us while we were above them.   Then not charmed by driving for several hours through thick fog.   We were in the first seats which help Phyllis with motion sickness but also meant that I got to see through the front window and watch the driver pass old rickety trucks in dense fog on blind curves.   I made a decision years ago not to sweat this stuff so I listened to good music and we arrived in Cuenca.   A new adventure.

Six word story.   Robber, mountains, clouds, green, safe arrival.

Phyllis' note
Bus stop in a little town south of Riobamba.  Two women, both in big red skirts, full and wide, with magenta shawls, finely featured chestnut faces, black bowler hats.  Beautiful.