Happy New Year!!!!!!

CRIME pays?

Christmas in Ecuador

Christmas is Coming

Manholes

Tara is Learning Spanish

Guaysamin Nutcracker

Maya's Birthday, Tara Arrives

The Hobbit in Sao Paulo, Home

Sao Paulo Again

Sao Sebastian

Juquehy

Sao Paulo, Brasil

Fiestas, Desfile, Christmas Tree!

Fiestas, Correa, Ruben Blades, Carolina

Fiestas de Quito are in full swing, with Parque Carolina transformed into a concert venue, with massive stage and dozens of tents selling food and artisanal goods. Eric and I spent our evening listening to music and wandering through the stalls. Each of the several times we entered the concert area, surrounded by wire fencing, we were separated by gender and frisked for alcohol, drugs and weapons. Ruben Blades was the headliner, with a great salsa band before him and an awful whiny instrumental group in between. The park was packed, as was Shyris and all the streets around the park. It was impossible to drive around at all.

Maya had a half day at school, and visited her friend in Puembo, which is very far from our home, for the afternoon. We were to pick her up at 9 or so, but the traffic was too intense to even consider the trip, so we left her to sleep overnight, while we wandered around our neighbourhood til early in the morning.

I had a chance to go to the Plaza Grande to watch the show there. Amparo called me to tell me to join her and a colleague to watch the dancing. I arrived late because Maya's ride was an hour and a half late (so Ecuadorian, although her friend is American). The square was packed with people, full of police as well. It was clear that someone important would arrive; many were watching the governmental palace, anticipating the arrival of Correa. Finally, after bands competed for attention, and dancers entertained us from the palace, while three singers sang on stage, he walked along the crowds, kissing his fans and picking up babies. He was  on stage a short time, urging his audience not to drink and drive. I was relieved not to have to listen to one of his three hour speeches, but was entertained to hear him sing a typical Quiteno song for us. He speaks without pronouncing his s's, I did not realize that he is from Guayaquil.

We wandered over to La Ronda, where we followed a large group of young guitarists 'serenading' the crowd. It was packed. 24 de Mayo was empty, as was San Francisco, so we found our way back to Plaza Grande and more Correa dancing and singing.

Amparo and Kenya wanted to go to their homes, an hour and  a half by bus from the centro, so I accompanied them to my apartment to make the trip shorter, and Eric arrived from his evening meeting just in time to meet me. He had spent the afternoon in the visa office, initially receiving my visa with the wrong passport number, then both visas did not have a payment stamp and that had to be corrected. Eric described the ministerio to be more intense than usual today, with angry screaming customers voicing his feelings all afternoon. It looks as if we have visas, yahoo!

Eric came home Monday night, devastated after two of his birds died through the night. He spent a big chunk of the day yesterday at the visa office after I refused to go back (I spent much of Monday waiting at the ministerio, first for the lawyer and then for my turn (101) simply to be turned down again) and was told to return again today for the visas. I did not hold onto much hope that anything would happen, so I am pleasantly surprised today. I met with Amparo yesterday to work on subjunctive, then when Eric arrived from the visa office, we all had lunch together at El Espanol, and then Eric and I walked through the park to look for Christmas trees. We want to buy one now, to be sure we have one for Christmas, rather than wait until after we return from Brasil. We found a tree we liked, and plan to return with the car to bring it home, but today was pico y placa and Eric cannot drive on Wednesdays.

Eric and Maya and I went to Casa de la Cultura yesterday, to listen to classic Quito music, with the accompaniment of dancers from the ballet and salsa studio. It was delightful, with the national orchestra and a group of guitarists. We are feasting on Ecuadorian culture this week, and loving it.

Casa de la Cultura

Fiestas de Quito

The chivas (party buses) drive by all evening, blasting their Quiteno music, celebrating the establishment of Quito as a Spanish city in the 1500s. The bullfights have been canceled for the first time in 500 years, due to concerns about cruelty towards animals. The bullfights were the signature event of the celebration, and I had planned to participate as often as I could. Last time we were here for the fiestas, I spent a couple of days fascinated and horrified by the experience. This year, I decided to pursue the cultural events.

The day started early and exactly on time at 9 AM.  Maya and I just walked out of our apartment building, and within a few minutes, found seats along the parade route. We had to pay a dollar each for the seats, because we needed to sit after an hour or so. Every school in the city had a marching band and baton twirlers, and drums pounded for the six hours! I liked the traditional dancing best, and there were colourful costumes from indigenous groups all around Quito. The sky over Pinchincha was an ominous grey, and I expected it to rain any minute. One of the onlookers nearby kept predicting rain, but the sun kept finding its way through the clouds, and at times it was sweltering. Maya and I began to fade after three hours, and I could not believe that most of the people watching stayed for the entire show. The music was marching music most of the time, but Quiteno and Andean music appealed to me more than the incessant banging.

While watching the offical parade on one side of Shyris, groups of protesters marched on the other side, under the watchful eye of regular and riot outfitted policemen. The Mejia high school students have been in a struggle with the authorities for years now, and they were in full force with their flags and insignias. There were other groups, but I did not want to lose my place in the crowd, and just took note of the counter parade.

Maya and I wandered to Quicentro for quiche at Cyranos and ice cream for Maya at Corfu and coffee for me at El Espanol. We watched a little more of the parade from a different vantage point, but decided to take a break, and while Maya practiced her violin, I listened and watched the parade from our terrace. It did start to rain when we left the parade, but not for long, and the crowds just pulled our their umbrellas and kept watching.

I was not sure of our plan for the afternoon. We took the Ecovia with the crowds going home from the parade, so the buses were packed. We disembarked at Simon Bolivar, near Alameda park and walked to San Blas, where a dessert market was supposed to be. I looked up my orario and confirmed that we were in the right place, but of course there was no sign of a festival of 'dulces Ecutoriano'. We walked to Teatro Sucre, up to Plaza de Independencia, and then to Santo Domingo, where we did find the dulces market, and tried a few typical Ecuadorian desserts. There were empanadas de viento filled with cheese, galletas with choice of jams or chocolate of manjar inside, helados de paila,  cotton candy, sugar cane candies, spuma, and lots of baked goods. I bought delicious honey and stayed away from all the sweets.

We checked out a busy La Ronda and visited the shops looking for Christmas gift ideas. When we returned to Santo Domingo, we visited the church, and when we came out, a band was playing, and groups of local dancers poured in. Dancers and musicians from communities in and around Quito each danced in and competed for our attention. One group would attract the crowd for a while, until another would redirect us. I liked those in masks, whom I had seen with Eric once time in the same square. Later a group fom Tabacundo danced on stage. The women wore colourful skirts that twirled around, with matching scarves and embroidered blouses. A group of Colorados from Santo Domingo danced shirtless in their striped skirts. A mimed theatre/dance group from Pomaski near Mitad del Mundo put on a theatre show for us. A Pujili group showed us costumes and dance for Corpus Cristi. The final group was an African group from the coast, with entirely different music. Maya and I had a great time listening to the music and following the dancers around.

We missed a show at the Casa de la Cultura, because we were enjoying ourselves so much at Santo Domingo. The Centro Historico was full of revelers, with chivas everywhere, and now at home, I can hear them drive by, music blasting, celebrating the biggest event of the year. We have started our celebrations early, and I have a list of activities to participate in all week.

Four Seasons in a Day

Ecuadorian Cuisine

Carolina Christmas

Waking Up to Sunshine

Folkloric Dance, Fiestas de Quito

Back in Quito

Figuring this Out

My Oh My Back at Work Again

Back to Baltimore

Train to Machachi

Family Drama

More Bureaucracy

Bureaucratic Nightmare

Another day of frustration for Eric and I. Eric drove all the way to Yanayacu yesterday (four hours there) and all the way back (two hours at midnight). He dropped off his colleague Mel, her student Leeann, and another Ecuadorian student and all their equipment so they could start work on the wren project. They dropped by with crickets and fed them celery from our refrigerator - they are fattening up the crickets to feed them to the wrens they plan to catch. I was asleep when Eric arrived home, too tired to stay up and listen to the election results, and did not hear him come in.

While Maya was getting ready in the morning, Eric was anxiously getting his papers together for his Immigration Office visit. He was agitated and worried and not at all excited about another day of waiting and disappointment. As far as I understood, it made no sense for me to try to get my visa, because my passport was at the Brazilian embassy and Maya's officially stamped birth certificated had not arrived (Salt Lake was worried about this being a fraudulent request and were holding up sending it to us). Eric has only a few days left on his visa and so his situation is urgent.

When I arrived at my Spanish class, Eric was talking to Amparo. He had called a new lawyer, who was a friend of Daniel, a student who had worked with Eric last year at Sacha Lodge. He was planning to meet her and wanted to try to get my visa and that of Maya's as well. I went along although I suspected that without the proper documents, it made no sense for me to go, and I would rather stay and practice Spanish. Eric needed money in his account to show he could support himself in Ecuador, so while at the Spanish school, I opened an ING account, which would make it possible for me to transfer funds to his account anytime. My bank will not allow me to do so, thus with an ING account, I can transfer from wells Fargo to my ING account and then to his. It turned out that it would take four days for this to be possible, so opening up the account was no help to him yet. He actually asked his colleague to put the $1000 in the account so that he could print out the statement and use it for today at the Visa office.

We dragged Amparo along and walked to a notary to get my bank account and Eric's notarized. I was to apply for the visa separately, because we did not have a marriage certificate and therefore could not prove we were married. If 'living together', we could apply for separate visas. We met the lawyer on Amazonas near the notary's office and explained our situation and she agreed to help us. Our first stop was an internet shop where we printed off account information, filled out forms, separated our files (we need a 'carpeta' for each and separate information as if we were not together. I did not have my passport, so we had a notary sign for my passport and that of Maya's and for the two bank accounts. Eric had been to the Immigration office earlier and had '101' as his number. When we arrived at the Immigration office, his number had been called five minutes earlier so we had missed our slot. Amparo quickly got another number, '158', before the office stopped offering numbers. Whew. Crisis averted.

 At noon, Amparo left to meet her next student at the school while we waited. The lawyer slipped off to write a letter introducing my case (as different from Eric's) and then left again when she realized that it was better to address it to another official. I was stunned at the style of the letter, excessively polite and overly florid in the request for an extension of our tourist visa. I guess that is how it is done here, but the letter was embarasing. We were the last number to be called around 2 PM in the afternoon. My visa application was rejected because I did not have the special stamped birth certificate for Maya, and also because my bank account did not have my name on it. I was unsurprised. Eric's was rejected because our return date was in 80 days, not 91 to 180, and the visa we were asking for was for 3 to 6 months. Apparently there is no way to extend for just 60 days.. Our lawyer begged the official to overlook that item, but suddenly we found ourselves back at the internet shop where Eric changed the date on our return ticket in some magical way, we rushed back to the Immigration office and viola, Eric had started his visa process!

I paid the lawyer $50 for all her efforts (we were very appreciative) and stopped in at the internet shop again to call Salt Lake City and try to find out how to get the stamped birth certificate. We learned that although Eric had Fedexed and paid for the return envelope, the official in Sale Lake did not like the return address, so alternate arrangements were made, and we should have the birth certificate in a few days. Eric will use computer magic to add my name to my account (for security purposes the account does not have my name on it) and Maya and I should (no guarantees) have our visas next week. What a day. Bureaucracy!!!!!!!

Eric is entirely beside himself. He cannot tolerate this sort of frustration. He has been a bear about this for days. While waiting for our number to be called, he mentioned that this experience at the Immigration office has turned him off Ecuador completely, which is new for Eric, who until now has pushed to live in Ecuador forever. Perhaps I am less distraught about the process, because it is Eric who messed up and did not inform himself about the visa issues before we left, and because I am very systematic about getting things done and following instructions and completing tasks. Eric thought he could provide only a few items from the list of requirements for a visa and be lucky. He found out otherwise these last three visits to the Immigration office.

Watching Elections

I am switching from AlJazeera to BBC to Fox News to catch up on election news. It is remarkable how far removed we are from the US. Of course the results of the election affect the whole world including Ecuador. Most foreigners favour Obama, and most expect him to win. It is an odd experience to watch Fox news, which is far to the right, almost bizarrely so, and vehemently against Obama. BBC and AlJazeera try to be evenhanded and dispassionate.

I learned today again that it is better to be Canadian than American. Eric and I got all our papers together to get our Brasilian visa. Everything was smooth and easy and there was no line, a computer system that worked, we had all the papers we needed, and only had to go to a bank and deposit $65 for me (Canadian!!!!) and $160 for Eric and Maya. The Americans have imposed an equally tough visa cost, so the Brasilians are charging an equal and amount for US Citizens (reciprocity). I actually have a visa in my old passport from five years ago, but have no idea where my passport is, and am obliged to get a new one.

It was such a relief to experience the calm and peace in the embassy. Why is the Ecuador system so complicated? Eric's visa runs out in a few days and he will brave the immigration office tomorrow, pick up his number early, and wait with his papers and hope that the clerk that takes him does not change the rules again and compel him to get another paper/notarized document/stamped document etc. Maya's special stamped birth certificate should arrive in a few days so that we can try to get her visa. I have a little more time left, and hope that there will be no glitches for me. We are under the gun now, all running out of time, and uncertain as to whether we will in fact succeed with this elusive visa. I cannot believe that Eric spent a day in the Ecuadorian embassy in DC getting visas for the cats and never bothered to check to see which visa we would need. It never occurred to me to doubt him when he claimed we did not require a visa. He tells me the rules have recently changed.

I skipped my Spanish class with Amparo today. I am wondering if I ought to switch gears and focus on Portugese. We will be in Brasil in a month, I bought the Rosetta Stone course, and have yet to start working on it! 

Rain and Power

It was cold and rainy all day. This is so different from our experience in Ecuador 2009-2010, when it was sunny every day, and the winter rains never came. Of course, we had no power either; the Paute dam near Cuenca was empty and without water, there was no hydroelectric power, and therefore insufficient electricity. We received 6 hours a day of power, and luckily after a few weeks, the newspaper would announce which hours each area of the city would get power, so we could arrange our lives around those hours. We learned not to buy more food than we could eat in the day, not to stock up on anything that needed refrigeration. We had a gas stove, so we were able to cook, and we became accustomed to candlelight dinners.

Eric had a solar panel that we would drape across the east window in the morning and the west one in the afternoon, soaking up sun and power so we could run the internet and the computers. As long as we had computers and wifi, Eric was content. Many of the businesses near our apartment had generators, so we were able to go out to dinner or visit the mall if we needed more light. It worked out and was not a hardship and I cannot remember anything that felt too frustrating. It lasted for months and months and it was interesting that we adjusted and found ourselves complaining little through the ordeal. We learned that we could live without electricity for most of the day and be fine.

But the rains are here this winter, which is more usual for Quito, and I miss our hot dry winter. I do not like the rain, yet I know it is necessary for the agricultural industry, for the energy needs of the country, and is the natural order of things. It started raining in Cuenca yesterday afternoon and continued in Quito and through the night and into the day and the evening. I feel wet and cold and look forward to the sunshine which almost always shows up in the morning. Crossing my fingers.

Ingapirca

We were up early today, having breakfast on the terrace with the sun coming up. Our van driver arrived on time and we piled into the spacious vehicle and were off.  When we expressed interest in archeological sites, Fernando insisted that we visit 'Cojitambo', a Canar ceremonial center near Biblian, not far from Azoges. The roads to Azoges were closed because of independence day celebrations in the town, so we took unpaved backroads through farms and small villages, taking a few wrong turns until we reached our destination. The Canar thrived for a thousand years before the Inca came, and fought them furiously before they were subdued. They helped the Spanish fight the Incas later, and have always been a significant presence in Ecuador. They worshiped the moon and Pachamama amongst many other gods. The site was high on a hill with 180 degree views all around, with a small temple and the foundations of curved walls, which apparently are characteristic of the Canar architecture of the time.

Late, when we arrived at Ingapirca, it was clear which were Canar and which were Inca remains. We learned that the elliptical shape of the Temple to the Sun is unique across the Inca world. The shape was Canar, while the construction was Incan. The Incans allowed conquered people to worship their own gods, but built their temple to their sun god bigger and higher and more prominent than the other temples around. Ingapirca was a huge place, housing 200 priests and other people associated with religious concerns, with about 3000 inhabitants who lived outside the temple grounds. All sorts of artisans worked on textiles and gold and silver items, and palaces for the priests and young virgins who took care of the temple. I learn more each time I visit the most significant Incan site in Ecuador. While walking around Ingapirca, the clouds descended and we wandered through the mist to the 'bath' where the Inca sat surrounded by sacrificial blood. I like the back part of Ingapirca as much as the temple, where the face of the Inca appears in the rock.

Lunch was at the Posada Ingapirca, just as the rain began in earnest. We drove to Canar, where I remember being entranced with the energy and the brightly dressed women, but with the rain, the market looked dirty and bedraggled and it was not what I expected. We drove to another market nearby, which was bigger, but the rain made it unwelcome and we drove on.

We had no time for Guacaleo or Chordeleg, but visited a workshop where Ikat weaving, typical of the Canari, continued to be done on a backstrap loom, little different than a thousand years ago. We learned about the natural dyes used to make the weaving, and watched the process. The design is set before the weaving begins. It is rather remarkable. I have always loved the patterns, but had no idea how it was done.

The rain never let up, from Ingapirca to Canar and back to Cuenca and then to Quito. Our cats survived the weekend without us, and the apartment is still full of black and orange balloons and Halloween decorations, which will have to go, but not until tomorrow.

Cuenca Visit

I was looking forward to our Cuenca visit for weeks. I had such an incredible memory of our time there in 2009, and was determined that we would visit again for Independence Day. We were up at 5 AM Friday morning to catch our flight. Eric worked through the night on his computer and slept little. I was too excited to sleep, which was a bad idea, since we were to run about all day after our arrival. We  ran into Eric's colleague and her student at the airport, apparently they too were going to Cuenca.

We arrived at 8 AM, and dropped our bags at our hotel before heading out in the sunshine. Maya and Eric were hungry, so we ate at Raymipumbi in the central square, Parque Calderon. Eric's food was unclean, so it took only a few minutes after sending the food back before he was ill and visiting the toilet. We ran into Mel and Leeann and wandered into the cathedral, to the flower market and then to the river. Eric joined us after a while, as we checked out the 'Mercado de Artisania', a collection of crafts from all over Ecuador. The exposition has grown alot since we visited in 2009, stretching along the Tomebamba river on either side. I was excited to see different ethnic art, and there were some Bolivian, Columbian and Peruvian artists as well. The stalls were crowded with spectators, an there was music and all sorts of food stalls along the way.

We chose a restaurant near the Todo Santos ruins and had some Ecuadorian 'fusion' cuisine with lots of quinoa. Eric ate soup and kept it down. We all decided we needed a rest after lunch, and were able to get into our spacious third floor room, where Maya practiced her piano and I tried to write an essay about the 'Enlightenment'. We were happy with our hotel. Our evening was spent down in the 'Barranca' section near the river, where a crowd was celebrating the inauguration of a new walkway along the river. There were speeches and more speeches, how the Ecuadorians love to talk, and then an orchestra played with an accordianist and later a traditional singer. Gorgeous and familiar Ecuadorian songs filled the air after a spectacular fireworks display. It was shocking how close we were to the fireworks and how potentially dangerous they were. it was thrilling. The music was wonderful and I would have stayed longer except that we had all been up since 5 in the morning and Maya was falling asleep on her feet.

Breakfast this morning was on the third floor glass enclosed patio, which was lovely. We had to get to the parade on time in Parque Calderon. We were told it started at 9, but it was later of course. I loved the colours and the dancing and took oodles of photos. It was shorter and more professional than I remembered. The Cuenca Chola contestants were gorgeous, the costumes delightful, the experience quite wonderful. The rest of our day was frustrating. We had a great meal at a very funky place I remembered from our last visit (Cafe Eucalyptis) and then rushed to get to a folkloric dance and music event at Luis Cordero park. When we finally found the place, we were welcomed by the person in charge, but nothing was happening, and although we were told several times that things would be starting soon, after an hour, nothing appeared to be moving forward, so we moved on to a guitar performance that was to start at 3. By 4, it was obvious that noting was going to happen, so on we searched. Mel and Leeann decided to do a bus city tour, while Eric and Maya and I went back to the hotel to try to call Tara for her birthday. We were unsuccessful and disappointed. Later, we went out to find a 'castillo', but although we encountered stages at several places we were familiar with, we did not find a castillo. When we returned to the main square there were many people milling about,  many street performers, music acts, people selling snacks and kebabs, and unshaved hippies selling jewellery. We asked a policeman about the fireworks, but he said there would be none. We settled for traditional music and a kebab. Later when we were in bed I heard the fireworks go off and decided the policeman was wrong and that he just had no idea what was happening.

Correa was in town, but did not get out to speak to the crowds. That is not usual for him, so I am not sure if it is because he did not expect his usual support. When the parade was happening, I did see a group of his supporters waiting for his appearance in front of the city hall, but decided to watch the dancers rather than wait for him.

Although Cuenca is still a lovely town, with clean streets and well kept buildings, limited crime and too too many gringos, it was not as entertaining as it was last time we were here. It is more polished and the performances are more professional, or at least the ones we were at; the rap concert for youth and the amateur singing night was not fun to listen to. The wild 'pueblo' spirit has been replaced with a more mature and sedate tone. I guess we really missed our 'Castillo'. We must search for another opportunity to visit a wild and untamed crowd.

Colada Morada and GuaGuas de Pan

At Spanish school today, we learned to make 'Colada Morada', the traditional drink for the Day of the Dead on November 2. Strawberries, 'mortinos' or small blueberries, 'mora' or blackberries, pineapple, babaco, bluecorn (or purple) all go together to make a rich fruity drink which symbolizes the blood of the dead, and is joined with baked babies 'guaguas de pan'. We were instructed to dip the pan in the colada morada. The indigenous people bring this combination to the ceme

Careful What You Wish For

Home at Last

     I escaped Baltimore just in time. I am watching the news and checking the latest information online, and am astonished at the strength and fury of the storm. Emily and her family are sleeping in the middle of the house on the floor, terrified of a tree falling on the house. Everyone is 'hunkered down', waiting out the storm, losing power, collecting water in their basements. There is more to come. I feel lucky that I got out when I did. In truth, other than a little turbulence between Baltimore and Atlanta, I was unscathed. Waking up in Quito sunshine felt wonderful this morning. Pichincha was particularly beautiful, and I felt better with every moment of wakefulness.

    Eric believed he could go to the immigration office and get our visas moving forward. It took all day to find a notary to affirm copies of birth certificates and bank statements. The immigration officer at the airport was asking me about my visa yesterday and urged me to proceed with it, but I am still insisting that I will not return for another seven hour fruitless wait. Eric was with Melissa searching for a willing notary, and found it difficult, if not impossible. He has to return to a notary tomorrow for more signatures, and then hopes to go to the office without me and Maya and procure the visa. I do not believe it will go smoothly, and I am not volunteering to accompany him.

    Exhaustion was the order of the day. I went to Spanish class as planned, and distributed the items that had been ordered by Amparo and other Spanish teachers. I felt like Santa Claus. I checked on items being delivered to my house in Baltimore and made sure that our neighbours picked up the items so they would not get wet in the storm. I talked through the four hours with Amparo, but did not think much, and avoided doing any real work. It is amazing how I can pretend to speak the language.

     I felt better by the afternoon, and took a stroll through the Mariscal, glad to be back in Quito and in my 'downtime' schedule. I visited Isabel while Maya was at ballet, and tasted 'colada morada', a drink made with fruits and purple corn, traditionally consumed for the Day of the Dead, with 'guaguas de pan', little baked 'babies'. I was told that I was drinking the blood of the dead and eating their flesh, or at least that is what the indigenous believe. It was delicious but creepy. I had not seen Isabel of Erika for a month, and it was good to share their energy and watch Isabel prepare a dish of cows intestines (I refused to try it!).

     It is not easy to return to my rhythm here. The past week was so intense and stressful, and now I must relax, and enjoy my freedom and stay in the moment. It is good to be home with my family and my projects. I made a great lentil soup and chocolate cookies that flattened in the oven. I am still working out the altitude baking. At least I had a whole box of bicarbonate of soda to use.

Whew!

Baltimore Colours

INTENSE DAYS

Redeye to Baltimore

Hacienda Guachala

I had read such brutal reviews of the hacienda, and was pleasantly surprised at how much I liked it last night. We wandered through the grounds, reading the historical notes and admiring the photographs depicting the life of the hacienda over the past 450 years. The buildings were not well kept, but maintained some of their former grandeur. There was a large church on the property, which took care of the surrounding community for hundreds of years, and a private chapel near the main building, which served as a church well into the 1900s. The priest who presided for almost eighty years had several children who helped with the service. There was one section of the hacienda which housed the scribes, who detailed each day every activity and transaction which took place on the hacienda. The hacienda had been massive, and was supported by and supported the lives of hundreds of indigenous people. Land reforms in the 1960's limited the size of the hacienda, and it was divided up between family members. The remaining buildings are crumbling down, I imagine the cost to maintain the hacienda is crippling.

No one was around when we arrived last night. Our key sat outside the office,s o we were able to enter our room. Maya played her violin while I rummaged through all the purchases we had made. She played her charango rather well for having never learned how. I found someone in the kitchen at dinnertime. A couple with a child showed up with a reservation and could not find someone to help them. When they finally found a hotel employee, they had their pick of rooms for the night, because there was just one other couple in the whole hacienda, with dozens of empty rooms. It felt spooky but safe, and we wandered throughout every room that we had access to, except for what appeared to be the home of the owner. He was a colourful man. We found four walls covered with plaques in the games room, along with a ping pong and pool table. The plaques were commendations and awards and appreciative words, for his time as a water works engineer and mayor of the nearby town.

Dinner was simple but tasty. The dining room was bright yellow, with photos of the hacienda from long ago and the present. We built a big fire in our room for the night and cuddled in our beds to be warm. It was truly peaceful and calm, and we slept well. I was up early and raring to go for our horse ride. Breakfast was generous, and we met with Luis, our guide by 8 AM. Eric had no interest in riding, and chose to work on a grant using the hotel's excellent internet.

I was dismayed to see that Luis was riding a mule. Maya and I had good looking Arabian horses (or at least some Arabian blood!) with energy and enthusiasm. I wanted to visit a pucara high up in the mountains, but Luis felt that was too far for a three to four hour ride. Instead, we wandered around the valley, taking dirt roads up and around the many rose factories in the area. We found a railroad track and followed it for some distance. At one time, raw materials were brought in by rail and goods were taken out that way too. We ran into a spaghetti factory. We passed unfinished houses and massive mansions, some farmers working in their fields, and locals playing soccer. Luis said very little to us, and when I wanted to gallop, my horse could not run slow enough to stay behind the mule, so I was frustrated that I could not go faster than a trot. I also had the most painful saddle ever. I usually ride English, and was told that a western saddle was more comfortable. That was not the case today, and I am suffering the effects of my painful saddle this evening!

I was disappointed in the ride. Luis is not meant to be a guide. He did his job, was entirely uninterested in entertaining us, did the  four hours up and down and around, and headed home in time for the finish. Maya walked in silence. When we arrived at the hacienda, I had planned to take a swim in the pool, but Eric was a little upset that the bill was so high---the tax was $40, 22.5 %!!!!! We paid and left.

Eric had been warned that a car race was happening, but no one stopped us from leaving the driveway and heading to the Pana. We were stopped by a group of people with a huge soldering machine. The race had left them stranded and they asked us for a ride. We drove off the road and I had to move all our stuff in the truck so they could enter with their machine. Thankfully, we were off the road when the next car, a souped up Volvo out of control, slammed around the corner. Had we been on the road, we would have been wiped out. I was furious that the hacienda employees had not told us how dangerous it was and thankful that we were safe. We wound around back country roads and found ourselves back at the Mitad del Mundo monument. The drive to Quito through arid and dusty hills felt too long. There is construction everywhere, especially near Quito where the new airport is finished and new roads toward the airport are getting paved and widened. The airport is to open in February, after many fits and starts. When we lived here, the Canadians were very frustrated that the contracts that the former mayor signed were no longer honoured, and much of the money meant to build the airport and pay the contractors had been pocketed by corrupt officials and other criminals. I was surprised to hear that it was finally finished, except that there were no road to the terminal, so for now, at least until we leave Quito, we will be able to use the city airport.

Once home, our cats were happy to see us, and Maya was happy to finish her homework and I was delighted that I had time to pack. I did not realize that I had 26 minutes to get an essay done for my History class, and panicked when I dashed one off at 5:59 and 22 seconds. It is not quite put together, and I was terribly disappointed. I was convinced I had until midnight. Eric helped me with my Mythology essay. I had two written, but was struggling with finding focus in 350 words. Our final product was much better. I am off to Baltimore for another week of intense work and exhaustion. I am not looking forward to this! Our ride to the airport took a little over ten minutes; when the new airport opens it will take over an hour! It was painful to say goodbye to Eric and Maya....I will be back next Sunday!

Shop Shop Shop Until You Drop Drop Drop

Otavalo is shopping heaven. Truly, I am not a shopper, and never would I spend my free time 'shopping' in the traditional way. Except for Otavalo, the oldest market in the Americas, happening for at least 500 years. Tara has her birthday November 3, and I want to send her a box of gifts when I am in Baltimore next week. The best place to buy Ecuadorian handicrafts is in Otavalo, at least the best prices are found for those who bargain. Quality is good, but better in specialized shops in Quito. The combination of quality and cost come together to make Otavalo the best destination. We always get to the market early when we are with the students, because the animal market, which starts before 8, is both fascinating and horrifying. This time, shopping in the Plaza de Ponchos was the goal, and Eric and Maya planned to help me get through my shopping list.

We left Quito later than I planned, but Maya had been out late last night and I wanted her to sleep in. The cats received a double dose of food, and we were off after a cappucino at Boncaffe. It always takes longer to get anywhere in Quito. To go in ay direction, one must drive through the city. Saturday traffic is not too daunting, yet it takes at least 40 minutes to drive down Eloy Alfaro to Carcelen, pass Carapungo and Calderon, pass through Guayabamba, and choose the Cayambe fork towards Otavalo. The volcanoes Cayambe, Antisana, and Cotopaxi were all visible in the foggy sky as we drove north, each so magnificent and beautiful and a good omen for our shopping extravaganza day.

We stopped at Hacienda Guachala on the way to check out the rooms. I was going to book online, but read too many excoriating reviews to not check. The place was empty other than the owner talking to a tourist official. I was delighted with the faded charm of the place, and we decided that the room was good enough and deposited some of our bags there before we returned to the Panamerican highway north. Driving anywhere always takes longer than expected, so we arrived at the parking lot close to the market just before noon. We went directly to the Shenandoa Pie shop for Mora pie and capuccino, and then we were ready to go!

I bargain intensely and pay less than Eric or Maya are comfortable with. Eric reminds Maya that the vendors would never sell if they were not making a profit. She is uncomfortable anyway. I feel wonderful when I save a few dollars, but in truth the prices are perfectly reasonable. Somehow, we found ourselves buying gifts for Maya. Her birthday is in December, and we did not intend to buy for her, but soon I found that we had bought her a 'chorongo', a native string instrument which she does not know how to play. She was delighted. She chose new boots and a purse and found some gifts for her friends Belina and Marius, both who just had birthdays this month. I must make it a point to visit with our friends the Benichous,  and deliver their gifts. I have little time when I am working, but I have a Saturday, which so far is all free, which may give me time to be social.

We wandered through the plaza in circles, stopping a couple times to withdraw money from a bank machine. We bought too much to carry and had to drop bags off at the car. I found spices I could not find in Quito, and bought 'curcuma', which is turmeric and necessary for several recipes I have used these past weeks. I wanted to shop more, but Maya and Eric were fading, and finally I let them drag me away and head back toward Quito, after a quick stop for 'Nachos Imbaburena' (I like the guacamole, Maya and Eric like the chips) and coffee for Eric and lemonade for Maya and I. We were entertained by two sweet children who posed for photos. We had a view over the Plaza de Ponchos, and spent some time people watching.

The hacienda was almost half way back to Quito. The traffic out of Otavalo was thick with customers returning home with their purchases. The pick up truck in front of us had three horses in the back, balanced rather treacherously, worrying us with each turn. People were packed into cars and backs of camions with animals and children and bags of purchases. We arrived at our destination before dark, and found the hacienda empty. Our key was out on the receptionist counter. We settled into our room and tried to help a young family who arrived with their baby and a reservation. The place was calm and tranquil and inviting. I understood the negative comments I had read on Tripadviser; the rooms were faded and sad looking, and the place was minimally kept up. The web suggests a 'boutique hotel', but there is nothing 'boutique' about the place, not now, likely not ever. There are interesting corners, and much history to accompany the place, 500 years of history (1535), but the cost of maintaining such a place is exorbitant, and clearly the owner is unable to manage. Zuleta (an absolutely gorgeous hacienda north of Otavalo) costs over $700 a night, and of course I want to go there and would never pay that amount, but perhaps that is what is needed to keep such a place up. We were happy with our choice however, and wanted to give the owner and the organization the benefit of the doubt. 

Ecuadorian Bureaucracy

I was furious today. So much wasted time. We had come to Ecuador with the understanding that we could leave the country before our 90 day tourist visa ran out, and re-enter for another 90 days. Sometime between planning to come to Ecuador for six months and actually arriving, the laws changed, and now we were required to get a longer tourist visa. This necessitated a visit to the Ministerio de Imigacion. Eric assured me that he had read through the requirements and that after taking photos of ourselves, we would go to the office and get a new visa. Of course nothing is simple here in Ecuador, and Eric does not always read the small print, or if he does, he ignores the parts he does not want to attend to.

We were up at the usual time, and Maya dressed for school with the expectation that we would be back in time for a few hours of school. Our taxi took us to a place in the Mariscal which was just opening, where we each had our photograph taken. the Ministerio was in walking distance. When we entered, we had to approach a gatekeeper, who questioned whether we had all that was necessary, but then gave us a number and sent us up to the first floor (which is really two floors us, not sure why). We entered a packed room with many eager tourists, and many who looked like locals. There in front of us was Vanessa, a former student of Eric who had been with us on the Ecuador trip with Hopkins two years ago. She is in Sangolqui volunteering with an internist in a hospital for a year. She will take her MCAT in June, and plans to enter medical school. Another student from the same year is also in Quito volunteering. Vanessa had much to tell us, and talked nonstop for three hours, until her number (46) came up. Until then, we watched the screen announce number 3, then 4, and on, slowly inexorably, painfully. We knew we would be in the office for hours. I asked the security guard who was watching us whether it was worth it to stay and if they would ever get to 77, and she assured us that they would. We were entertained by Vanessa for most of our wait. She did not get her visa, because her papers were not in order. When our turn came, late in the afternoon, our papers were also not in order, and we were told to return with a copy of Eric's bank statement to assure them that he had sufficient funds to stay.

We arrived home irritated and upset. In truth, this is quite ordinary for Ecuador, and when we lived here, I had no problem adjusting to the rigamarole. I was anxious because I wanted to finish my Coursera essays today and did not plan well. I should have gone to the office with all my papers, and Maya could have brought her schoolwork, but instead we sat and waited and waited and wondered and ultimately failed at our task.

Maya wanted to go to a party for a classmate, so after ballet, we drove the car to take her there. I remembered where the road was (near the former ambassador's residence), but the traffic up Diez de Agosto and to La Prensa was insane. I am not sure where all the people were going, but in both directions, the roads were blocked. We missed the movie Eric and I had planned to see while Maya was at her party, and limped home with just enough time to get settled and eat a little, before we had to return to the party to pick her up. The house was set up as a disco club, with lights and loud music and a huge swimming pool glistening in the dark. Maya had a great time, clearly she is starting to be the teenager she will be for the next few years.

Baking Soda

Eric invited his colleague from Catolica for dinner tonight. Santiago has been taking care of the truck when we are away, and we have known him and his wife Ale for years. They got married at  hacienda San Jose in Puembo within a few weeks of our arrival in Quito in 2009, and I remember how late we arrived after struggling through traffic. We almost missed the wedding. We knew no one but the bride and groom, and mostly felt excluded and awkward during the reception. Later we were invited to their home in Cumbaya, where the parents, the oldest son and his family, and Santiago and Ale, all live together in a 'compound', each couple on a different floor. This is not an uncommon way for Ecuadorians to live. The mother had her own 'chapel ' in the house, and she gave me a small token to protect me while wandering around Quito. Santiago has a son Maya 's age, and Maya has played with him before, but I am not sure why we have not spent more time with them, except that we are always so busy and active. Santiago and Ale have an 18 month old son named Sebastian, whom we met last January when we came to Ecuador with the Johns Hopkins students.

After a morning of Spanish subjunctive and orders from several teachers for items through AMazon to be picked up while I am in Baltimore, I walked home from the Mariscal. I stopped on the way at a shoe store to order a pair of boots to me made to size, not inexpensive, but rather amazing. When I got home, I started cooking for the evening. Eric had bought all the ingredients that I needed for my amazing carrot cake, which had been a great success last week. I discovered a few minutes after measuring out the flour and dry ingredients that I did not have the 2 tsp of baking soda required. I remembered that we had not found it in Megamaxi last time we bought it, so I walked to Quicentro and Fibeca to restock. There I was told they no longer sell Sodium bicarbonate. At another pharmacy a few blocks away, I was informed that I could no longer purchase bakings soda, because it is used to extract cocaine. When asked how I could bake without it, I was told to use baking soda instead. I insisted that baking soda and baking powder were not the same, and learned that if I went to the Ministry of Health and requested a notarized paper giving me permission to bake with baking soda, I could procure it. Another trip to  the Fybeca near Megamaxi was not helpful.

I arrived home an hour later without baking soda, and made the cake without it. It did not turn out well, but looked good and had to serve its purpose. Dinner was penne with sasiccia, but the sausage was not quite right. Everyone seemed to like it anyway, along with asparagus, salad and my home made humus. It was fun to have guests eating in our house, but of course there was not enough room for more than four people, and Maya had to sit and eat on the couch. Eric particularly enjoys having guests for dinner in the apartment. It is quite wonderful to be in a penthouse with lights all around.

Quito Beautiful with Grey Skies

We had a date with Felipe today. Eric came to meet me at Guayasamin, and we walked to Hotel Colon, where we waited for Felipe, who was a half hour late as per the Ecuadorian custom.

Espanol, Salsa, Spices

I could get used to this life. Ecuador feels like home, yet I am truly on vacation, so I feel relaxed and comfortable.I wake up early to get Maya moving. She still has a very swollen eye, but is is improving and will not require a visit to the hospital. I was actually looking forward to checking out the medical system, but am relieved that we are safe so far without the need to rush to the Emergency room. Maya wanted carrot cake for breakfast, and I did not have the 'ganas' to insist on a better choice. I added bananas and milk and hoped the three cups of carrots counted as something healthy.

Eric and I walk down with Maya to meet her bus, and then walk the few steps to Boncaffe for coffee. I had arranged to meet Amparo at 9 AM in the Mariscal, so had the time to walk to Guayasamin Language School. The hours at Spanish speed by, and I hope I am actually learning something, rather than reviewing what I know. I have no idea about grammar or tenses, I just make it up as I go. I imagine that Amparo knows that I am clueless. I am able to express myself well and my vocabulary is great, but I still don't have a clue how to conjugate verbs. I followed the students to salsa class. Paul, our former teacher at Son Latino was teaching the class. My favourite teacher Jipsum, has moved to Switzerland, and Son Latino is no more. Paul could not tell me what he was doing there. The class was actually very good, better than I remembered when Paul taught us before. I am almost lost in the movements, my body in step, reminding itself, dancing to the rhythm. One of the women, who played a male dancing role was clearly very good at salsa. Later she told us that she once taught Latin dance. She and Paul showed us an impressive example of salsa, a reason to return for more.

Amparo had given me instructions of how to get to a shop that may have coriander and turmeric. I had tried several recipes these past few days, which had asked for several spices I could not find at Megamaxi or the local market store. Next time in Otavalo or Sangolqui, I must make a concerted effort to find the spices unavailable in the usual stores. I did find 'Camali', where coriander seeds were available. Later, I cooked them on the stove for a bit and then ground them up using the osterizer that is supposed to be a juicer. My kitchen is woefully inadequate, but I make do.

I walked back home using side streets and doubling back a few times to avoid the car exhaust. Eric met me at a supposedly Italian gelato shop, but of course it was nothing like Italian gelato. I had described making my carrot cake to Amparo during my lesson, and my neighbour could not concentrate on his lesson when he heard the details. I was looking forward to carrot cake all day, so Eric and I had one piece while waiting for Maya and another when she arrived.

My plan for the evening was to watch the Ecuador Venezuela game, (which was not too exciting and the Ecuadorians did not play well and tied 1:1), and watch the debate between Obama and Romney, which was better than the last one between the two. Between talking to Maya and Eric and my parents and Monica, I toasted coriander seeds and ground them, ground cloves, and started my quinoa, lentil and garbanzo bean soup. I had to soak the garbanzo beans all night and cook them beforehand for an hour. The soup was not ready for dinner, so with the leftover chickpeas, I made a delicious hummus and served it with carrots and salad and more carrot cake for dessert. I am not sure I want to make another cake like that; it is far too tasty!

I have lectures to watch for my online history course, and the last eight books of the Odyssey to read for my mythology course, and an essay to write for my Spanish class, so the evening is just beginning. I guess this is no vacation, but it is not my ordinary life either. It is rather remarkable how busy and active  my life is now that we are established in our new home.

Subjunctive

Maya asks me why I am taking a Spanish course, when it is clear that I can speak and understand well and for all intents and purposes, am able to communicate effectively. At my Spanish school, most of the students study for two or three weeks and then travel through the rest of the continent for the rest of their time here. I am not the usual student at the school, and sometimes I wonder why I keep going back. On the other hand, I continue to be challenged and

Bellavista, Mindo, Tubing, Birding

Yanacocha, Ecuador VS Chile, La Ronda

My plan for the three day weekend was to head for the beach, and I was excited and full of anticipation, but Eric was less than enthusiastic about the nine hour drive there and back. I was desperate to get out of the apartment last night, but ended up cooking a lentil-quinoa-vegetable soup using everything I possibly could  in my refrigerator. I had bought nothing for the week because I was expecting to be away, so I was delighted to empty out the cupboards and the fridge. Eric and I discussed weekend plans, and I agreed to go to a local bird sanctuary for the day. I spent the rest of the evening reviewing my camera and bird photography.

 Of course I was up at 6 and ready to go, but the sky was misty and grey after a night of rain, and both Eric and Tara were slow moving, and we were moving far too late to see many birds. We drove to Yanacocha anyway, which is only an hour away from the city, up the side of Pichincha volcano. The road turns to dirt early on, and winds up the hill to the entrance of the park. We were drenched in fog as we started on the path, and were astonished to find completely different vegetation than we had ever seen. It was at about 12000 feet, with a cloud forest which looked like the time of the dinosaurs, with huge leaves the size of suitcases, and strange seed pods and lichens and mosses. It appeared as if the area had once been at sea level and that when the Andes rose up, it was misplaced above the clouds. We expected to run into a brontosaurus. Eric reminded us that birds are dinosaurs, so that we would encounter dinosaurs on our walk.

Birds were all around, but not easily visible. We were supposed to be looking for a 'black breasted puffwing hummingbird', and although there were hummingbirds all around and we thought we did see one, I was unable to take a photo. We saw other lovely birds, most far to difficult to photograph. It was time to make a list of birds for us, since we see so many, and have never kept a record of it. The walk was incredible, such an  unusual microclimate, with birds that live nowhere else. The spectacled bear stayed away, so we will have to return to look for it again.

We rushed home in time to get to the Chile Ecuador game, and sat in the 'general' section, with thousands of Ecuadorian fans in yellow Tshirts. It was an exciting game, and the Ecuadorians won by 3:1; the one Chilean goal was made by an Ecuadorian!

It was Friday, and the day to go to the Centro Historico to watch folkloric dance in the Archbishop's palace, and to take a walk to 'La Ronda', where nightlife is hopping. We ate a massive empanada (the size of a suticase!), listened to music from many different periods of Ecuadorian history, watched more folkloric dance, wandered through the packed street full of revelers, and arrived home very late. Our plans are to see more birds in the cloud forest tomorrow; part work for Eric and the bonus for Maya and I is the opportunity to wander through the clouds and see beautiful birds and perhaps other animals.

Overdosing on Spanish

I want to get past being a 'good enough' speaker of Spanish. There are many grammatical challenges that I have chosen to avoid until now. Present subjunctive, imperfect subjective, conditional, pluscamperfecto; these are tenses and uses of the language that I entirely ignore. It is rather remarkable how much Spanish one can speak by staying in the present and occasionally addressing the past. I can carry on long conversations and essentially say whatever I want to say. I am amazed how much I understand, and how rarely I feel confused or stumped. On the other hand, I make dozens of errors when I speak, and rarely pause and make an effort to be accurate or grammatically correct.

I decided this week to make a big push to overcome the obstacles that I usually ignore when I speak. I studied with Amparo for six hours yesterday and five hours today. It was really too much for me, and I do not believe I can continue a this pace. But I pushed and pushed. Usually, we spend most of our time together simply talking and sharing experiences. Yesterday and today however, armed with an exercise book I used in my Spanish class at Johns Hopkins, I read two stories, one by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and another by Isabel Allende, reviewed all sorts of tough grammar, and am now charged with writing an essay, which is a new challenge for me.

Tomorrow is another holiday for Maya. She has not yet completed a whole five day week at school! It is 'Day of the Races' for the whole country, and many are heading for the beach to rest and relax. I would love to take a few days on the water, far away from the cars and pollution of the city, but Eric is not keen on the ten hour drive (I don't drive!) there and back. He has yet to see Puerto Lopez or Machalilla, which is a wonderful part of Ecuador. We have not spent much time on the coast, in fact, have yet to explore any of the coast. Eric wants to look for more plain tailed wrens, which of course is why he is here, so I am going along with his wish to check out more birds. I have my camera ready and  will get to bed early, and look forward to photography challenges.

Mindo, Cock of the Rock, Bellavista, Tandapaya

Homeschooling

Homeschooling is not easy especially when you do not know what you are doing. I reluctantly agreed to this, and wanted to do it without much effort on my part. I left Maya to structure her time and complete lessons on her own, asking me for help if needed. She was dutifully attending to a lesson a week, and I believed she was on track, until I checked on her progress today and learned that she needs far more guidance than I imagined, and that I will have to play a much larger role than I expected.

She was feeling abandoned and neglected by my lack of participation, but instead of appreciating my efforts today, resorted wailing and carrying on. It was not a happy scene, and I realized that my day was going to be a disaster, and it was. Eric was little help, giving rather useless advice and telling me what I was doing wrong. It took most of the day to get her back on track. By then, she was apologizing for her behaviour and we sorted out how best to manage her lessons. It all ended well, but the process of getting to a better place was rather awful. I feel that I now know what I must do, and can adjust, as can Maya. Whew.

Maya had another two days off this week, and on Friday is a country wide celebration of race and diversity, so there are only two school day this week. We decided too leave for Mindo after Maya's ballet class, to look at birds, and perhaps see the 'cock of the rock', a very colourful and rare bird. i once saw it with the Johns Hopkins Ecuador course, but was only one of two participants who had a short glimpse far off in the forest. We will try to see it again tomorrow with the same guide we had last time, an eccentric character named Angel Paz. He is somewhat of a 'bird whisperer' and has a special relationship with a group of antipittas, who are rare and timid and difficult to see most of the time. He will meet us at 5 in the morning, so we are all under our mosquito nets at 'Casa de Cecilia' in Mindo. We left later than planned (of course) and took too long to get out of Quito, but made good time once on the road to Mindo, a town with character to spare in the cloud forest some 500 metres lower than Quito. It is known for its bird viewing, which we will explore in the morning. What fun! 

Horsebackriding

Pululahua Heaven

In the Groove

Spanish and Salsa and Math

Quito is Home

Guapulo Mass

Coming Home

Flying back to Quito takes most of a day'; either an uncomfortable red eye, or a day on the road. I resign myself to the journey, and I find myself busy and absorbed all the way, so it is not too painful. I am exhausted and exhilarated after the crazy week; I worked over 60 hours in five days!

I am so lucky to be at Emily's. I slept well, had lots of privacy up in the attic, and felt very much at home. I repacked in the morning, trying to leave as much behind as I could, but still found myself with an oversized bag and too much cash. Eric had urged me not to arrive in Quito with $900 in 20's and 10's, so on our way to the airport, we stopped at the nearby Starbuck's and bank. I deposited most of the money, and met a friend of Emily's whose child was in Nathan's class at school. Only after I shook hands and explained that I lived in Ecuador, did I realize that I knew the woman, that I had seen her and treated her in my practice some years ago. I said nothing, as if I did not recognize her, and she likely remembered me, so it was a strange experience. I am trying to remember who the busboy at the restaurant last night was from; was he a patient? Did I know him from yoga? Was he a barista at Starbucks? I know that I know him, but cannot figure it out. I wondered if this is what happens when one moves away, or was it my early dementia? 

I was worried that my flight was not really booked, since I had asked for the change late at night after our long delay Sunday night. But there was no problem and I was ready at my gate in good time. I had internet for a few minutes at the airport, and downloaded some books to read, and was swept up in the Trojan war for the trip to Houston. I read when I travel, perhaps that is why I love to travel, since I have so little time to read in my other life. On the other hand, I am free for the next three weeks to do as I wish, which may include reading, although I get so busy in my Ecuador life, that I have little free time anyway.

People ask me what I do in Ecuador, and I don't know what to answer, since I have no idea yet what my purpose is. So far, my energies have been devoted to getting our lives organized in our new apartment, but I don't have that excuse anymore, and ought to direct my energies to interesting pursuits. I wonder how my sisters manage to have day after day open and free to do anything at all for years and years and years; I am 35 years behind, having studied and worked and parented and taken care of so many people since medical school. I am not worried about this new approach to life, I just am appreciating the wonder at it all.

I wanted to catch up on my Coursera courses on History and Mythology, but was frustrated with the lack of internet in Houston. There is a way to get free internet after listening to an ad, but Boingo interrupted me each time. An ex 'agent' sat near me and talked about his son who is a successful musician and suffering through a divorce with a difficult ex-wife. He had much to tell me, and I was too polite to cut him off (being a psychiatrist encourages people to tell me far too much). Somehow the four hours between flights was shrunken to less than two, and duty free shopping and a search for healthy food took much of the rest of my wait. I finally listened to a couple lectures on my iPhone, and was incredibly excited about the beginning lines of the Odyssey, before announcements were made for boarding. I had hoped for internet on the flight, but none was available.

Instead, I read some more on my iPhone until it was dead, watched a little TV, avoided reading the 40 page real estate contract that I must review, and daydreamed.

I think I can do this, the back and forth to Baltimore. I liked seeing my patients, and paying my bills, spending time with Emily (next time I will see more friends and work less intensely). I look forward to Quito and the adventures we are likely to have, and in three weeks I will be back at Emily's, plunging into work and my Baltimore life again. I was not sure this would work, but it is working and I feel optimistic.

All Done, Home to Ecuador

Today was to be an 'easy day', and it was. I both love and hate seeing the dentist; 'love' because I like that clean teeth feeling, 'hate' because the cleaning hurts. I was convinced to buy a 'waterpik'; I have no  idea what it is or how it works, and will have to leave many clothes behind to fit the box int my suitcase. I am not sure the 'pik' is necessary, but now I have it. 

I saw several patients who I canceled on Monday; I was relieved that the patient hospitalized for hepatitis, likely due to her antidepressant, was being released. I was able to get the ballet store for Maya and buy what she had requested. I also bought tights and leotards for another ballet mother at Fundacion Danza who had requested them. Apparently the cost in Quito is prohibitive (tariffs, 'impuestos') Whatever is imported is far more costly than locally made goods, and ballet attire is not manufactured in Ecuador. I wanted to buy more and do more, but time was tight, and I was determined to leave the office without anything undone. 

Emily and I had a date at "La Tavola' in Little Italy. We made it in time, and had a delicious meal (except that the cannoli were made with pizzele). It was a relief to eat, to have a night off, to talk about whatever came to mind. For a while, I forgot that I live thousands of miles away and have just worked inhuman days for a week and should be toppling over. Baltimore felt like home, and I belonged here. Eric tells me I am in denial about moving, and today that was accurate, I felt as if I had never left. The night was balmy (the weather has been incredibly wonderful all week). I was certain I knew the restaurant busboy, in fact all sorts of people look familiar to me, and so many people recognize me, most of them familiar to me, but not necessarily recognizable. The same happens in Quito. I am convinced I know people I run into, and they appear to recognize me, but I cannot quite remember who they are. I wonder if this is normal or a sign of cognitive decline. IIn the past, would never forget a face. Eric asked me where we like to ride in Pululahua, and I remembered the name of the woman who ran a riding establishment so he was able to look her up on the internet; I impressed him with that one. Unfortunately,most of the time I do not know who people are that I ought to know.

I took way to0 long to pack, as if it really made a difference what I brought home, and what I left for our next visit. I guess that means that Quito is home. I visited our old house to see if it was ready for showing, and was uncomfortable with its uniform whiteness and the absolute extinction of us; the house is no longer ours, not in spirit at least, and its white and clean walls and empty rooms feel sad and forlorn. On the other hand it looks quite ready for a new family to inhabit. There is little reason not to sign the real estate contract except that it is 40 pages long and I have yet to read it. I was supposed to sign it and leave it for the real estate agent, but I told myself I had to read it first, another sign of denial and resistance to the inevitability of change. We have moved very far away, and will never live in the house again, and I have to let it go.

Fading

Thirteen Hour Office Days

Back Home?

Nightmare Air Travel

Medical School Reunion

Life is Normal

Papallacta

I learned late Friday that Maya had Monday and Tuesday off for Rosh Hashanah, so it was time to take a little vacation. Eric was exhausted upon his return from New Jersey/Baltimore, but I convinced him to take a couple of days off before starting to work in earnest. I wanted to try the train through the 'Avenue of the Volcanoes', but that meant getting up very early Saturday, and that was not going to happen. Maya had been urging us to go to the hot springs at Papallacta, so when Eric agreed, I quickly made reservations at Hostal Coturpa (much more affordable than the lodge we usually go to). Maya was less than thrilled when she heard we were taking the bus. She often gets ill on the bus, and the movies that are shown are often bloody and violent.

The problem was getting Eric moving Sunday morning. Maya was up early doing her homework and practicing violin. Eric made an arrangement to meet with his collaborators, and we left later than I wanted....but all went well. We taxied to Cumbaya, caught the bus, which turned out to be new and clean and not as smelly as I remember. 'Cowboys and Aliens' was playing, which frightened Maya terribly. We arrived at Papallacta before dark, and once we found our hostel only 300 metres from the road and dropped off our bag, we took bathing suits and towels and hiked up higher for what was supposedly 2 kilometers, but felt much longer. We spent a few hours in the hot springs until it was truly dark. I was almost too hot in the water, but very relaxed when we headed down the hill. It was cold and getting colder. It was amazing to see Antisana suddenly visible across the valley, magnificent and covered in snow.

We stopped at a restaurant 'Choza Don Wilson' for dinner, but after sitting down and getting a visit from the waitress, we were told there was no more food and we could not eat.  We were told to hike up the hill again, but our feet took us downward to 'Restaurant Quitenito'. An older lady invited us in, and we chose from all sorts of written signs distributed throughout the over crowded room. Maya had a chuleta (beef, not pork)- and Eric and I shared trout. It took long for the food to come, especially when another family came to order dinner, and our host became overwhelmed. she forgot the empanadas until the end of the meal, which we ate with 'hierba louisa' tea. Maya's lips were turning blue as she waited for her food.

When we got back to 'Hostal Coturpa', we were relieved to find three blankets on the bed and a heater. We all cuddled in together to watch movies and to sleep.

It was even colder the next morning, and getting out of bed was painful. The sky was full of clouds, and the tops of the mountains shrouded in fog. We hiked up to the 'termas' and then further along a rushing river, through several microclimates and changes in vegetation. The hike is familiar to us, I think we do it every time we are here. I looked for birds (too late to see many) and heard them in the trees, but did not get close enough to photograph any.  We could really feel the altitude; I was surprised that I had adjusted to the 9000+ feet of Quito, but here were up another 2000 or so, and hiking upward was tough. Maya was like a mountain goat, skipping along with ease!

Eric worked while Maya and I had massages at the spa. He was happy to have internet and the time to catch up on work he wanted to do anyway (rather than leave Quito).

When we returned to the hostel, the owner had much to say about the state of Ecuador, and engaged in a long conversation with Eric. When I asked about the timing of the buses to Quito, he told us they could come on the hour, 15 minutes after or 15 minutes before, or on the half hour, or anytime in between. So Ecuadorian; the bus would come at any point during the hour. We waited about a thirty-five minutes when we arrived at the bus stop, and again found the bus comfortable and clean. Except that again, the choice of movie (unavoidable, with two TVs and the noise blaring) was violent and disturbing, and even I had to turn away. The traffic was intense, and it took a long time to get back. From Papallacta, the bus first ascends to a pass, and after that gradually descends from the paramo through green fields and canyons. The view is stunning, and the ride a little scary, with all the wild turns in the road and incessant descent.

Eric asked Melissa and her student over for dinner, and I tried a quinoa soup that worked out well. I also made brownies which tasted like caramel, delicious, but clearly I need to learn how to cook at high altitude. Their consistency and look were not quite right. Less sugar, less baking powder, more liquid (including butter, which is a liquid when cooked) are the changes to make.

Hilary Hahn in Concert

Maya more than survived her chiva ride and had an 'awesome' time. She danced all night and enjoyed her friends. She could not top thanking me for letting her go. I was so very worried every minute she was away. I could not find a movie to watch and I was too anxious to eat in any of the many restaurants in the complex. There were few shops to browse in, so I chose to take the bus back to the apartment in the dark, which was probably inadvisable. I chose to take a taxi back, and met all the partygoers waiting to blow candles out and sing happy birthday. I met with Maria Paula's grandmother, who is closer to my age than any of the other parents. She works making explosives in Latacunga. When I said I had been to the Mama Negra Fiesta a few years ago and that our car had been broken into, she invited us to visit her in Latacunga and go to the fiesta with her and her family. Perhaps I will take her up on her offer.

Eric was staying an extra day in Baltimore to work on the house. Maya was up early working on her homeschool lesson. When she had worked enough and practiced her violin, we treated ourselves to her favourite pastry shop. The owner and 'artiste' is a Frenchman, and the chocolates and the concoctions are stunningly good. Cyrano's does not even rate. The bread actually tastes like French bread. Maya used her allowance to pay for a hot chocolate (thick, with cinnamon and spices) and a rasberry tarteleta.  The cost of every item is outrageous, but the cappucino is quite good, so I believe we will be regular customers.

Our adventure today was in colonial Quito. I brought Maya to a colonial art museum near La Merced. It was fun to share the experience with Maya. The highlight of the day was discovering in a tourist pamphlet that Hilary Hahn was giving a concert at the Teatro Sucre. I was stunned! We had just seen her in Baltimore a few months ago, she had studied at Peabody as had Maya, what was she doing in Quito? We bought the least expensive tickets, which were far too expensive for Qutio. and we discovered when we got to the theatre in the evening, that the seats at the top of the auditorium were packed, and the $100 seats in the orchestra were empty. At the last moment before Hilary came on stage, we were rushed down several flights of stairs to fill the orchestra. We had great seats, and Hilary was remarkably good, and the crowd was very appreciative. Maya was delighted to approach Hilary afterward, and tell her that she too studied at Peabody. Hilary asked who her teacher was, and of course knew who Rebecca Henry was. Maya was swooning.

We also ran into Maya's orchestra mate from FOSJE. He was in the older group now, and although conceded that there were problems with FOSJE, he was planning to continue with the group. Felipe had told Maya not to go with FOSJE, and her schedule is filled already, but maybe joining FOSJE would be a good thing for her. Clearly, things did not go well with Felipe and FOSJE! Politics, I believe.

Eric arrived at the apartment soon after we did, exhausted, but feeling good about his talk at NJIT, and the state of the house. Hopefully we will have the house ready to rent for October!

Terrified

Maya was invited to a birthday party today, and told me she wanted to go just as I was picking her up from the schoolbus and we were on our way to her ballet class. I wasn't sure I was comfortable with the concept; two and a half hours on a 'chiva' bus with a classroom of 12 and 13 year olds. I was so distressed I called Eric in Baltimore to ask his opinion, and he suggested that I go with Maya. I thought that was a good idea, so I rushed home and changed into presentable attire and rushed back through the rush hour crowds to get back to her ballet class. I did take the time to visit Isabel to ask her opinion, but she was not home and neither was Erika. I asked Isabel's exhusband what he thought, and he reassured me that with children and parents on board, and no alcohol of course, things would be fine.

I pulled Maya out of her ballet class later than I wanted to, and almost hoped we would not get to our destination on time. But we did, and when we saw no one in the Fybeca parking lot at Plaza de las Americas, I was almost relieved. But then of course, her classmates were there and very excited to see Maya. I asked Cathy, the mother of Maria Paula, if I could come along, that I was worried, but she insisted that there were enough adults and introduced me to her mother who was going along too. I could not then NOT allow Maya to go. So with trepidation, I said good bye.

And then I began shaking. A 'chiva' is a party bus, often with a live band and dancing to traditional Ecuadorian music. Drinking is a must on a chiva, but I am sure that children will not be drinking. However, one can easily fall off the bus, which has open sides and booms through town, inviting all to join in the party. What did I just do?

Plaza de las Americas is a mall with dozens of restaurants and a movie theater. It was packed with teenagers, and I remember that the first time I met Isabel, we drove to the mall to pick up her teenage son, many years ago. I could not stomach staying for two and a half hours at the mall, so I took a bus in the dark back to the apartment (NOT a good idea) and rushed up to my room, thinking I would eat something and go back to get Maya. Except that I am not supposed to go out in the night after dark, and I may not find a taxi, and I may get robbed, and Maya could be in danger.

She just seemed embarrassed by me. I pretended that I spoke no Spanish, and was worried about her and wanted to go with her. And now I am scared about going back. Not a good evening for me. Lots of anxiety. Eric won't approve. I just have to pray and hope that all goes well and that we are home safe and sound by 9.

My day was otherwise easy and comfortable. I waited much of the morning for a workman who was supposed to come by at 8:30 to fix the kitchen cabinets which had either fallen off or would not close
(I had to tie some shut to prevent the cat from having an extra feast). Of course, the workman never showed up. I am horrified at how much time I can devote to the news and the internet. I did manage to wash the floors, balance my checkbook, talk to Tara at length, and to touch base with Eric a few times. He is in Baltimore taking care of the house so we can rent it by the end of the month.

Finally, I could stay in no longer, but when I was ready to leave the apartment, the elevator was not working. I contemplated leaving by the stairs, but took care of more business details until the elevator was again functional. I was going to walk all the way to Casa de la Cultura again, but it was late, and I wanted to give myself enough time to visit the 'Casa de Alabada' near Plaza San Francisco. The museum has an exquisite collection of pre columbian artifacts (all from private collections, stolen no doubt, but now available to the public). I am entranced in the museum and the hours fly by. Before I was ready, it was time to take the Ecovia back to pick up Maya. My schedule is determined by dropping and picking her up.

It was a lovely entertaining day, until faced with the dilemma of the party bus. 

Clear Skies

I was worried when the ashes kept falling yesterday. With five months of drought, fires are raging daily, especially in the valley nearby. There were fires today, but they were small and the sky stayed blue and clear and gorgeous, with the sun shining fiercely. I love these blue sky days. The rain is supposed to arrive next month, and the locals are looking forward to it. The year we lived here was unusual, in that there was no rain all winter, which was lovely for me, but led to an empty dam and months of revolving power outages. A new hydroelectirc dam has been built, so 'apagones' are not expected, but the locals are tired of the dust and the fires and rain is sorely needed.

I slept well last night, so I did not have to sleep in and lose the day. I met with Gustavo for coffee, and we talked for hours, finally walking all the way to Casa de la Cultura. He is at university every afternoon at 5 PM, and is involved in student government. His family moved from 'Cinco Esquinas' to an area to the west of the colonial part of Quito, which is safer for him and his family. It was great for me to practice my Spanish, although speaking made me aware of all my errors and misuse of past and future. Time for Spanish lessons. I spoke to Amparo last week in the hopes that Eric and I can take classes together soon.

My visit to the Banco Central was focussed on Colonial Art, which is far less interesting to me than the archeological findings. I am uncomfortable with the history of the Spanish conquest and the treatment of the indigenous people, so even if most of the art was done by local people, I find the art inaccessible. There was a temporary exhibit of photos of Quito in the 50's and 60's, which was fascinating, because I knew most of the corners of the city that were photographed, and could see the amazing changes that have happened in the last half century. My father came to Quito in the early 60's, so I imagine he saw it as the intimate place it once was. There was a photo of Nixon in the back of a convertible, waving to the crowds -- that was a shock!

I had to rush back home to pick up Maya's violin and books and had a difficult time grabbing a cab from Shyris. I was worried that Maya would forget and take the bus, but we whizzed through town and I found her in her class, with instructions to meet me scrawled on her hand. We arrived at violin class far too early, so had Magnum ice cream in the hot sun until it was time for her lesson. I began to read her Spanish book while waiting, and found myself understanding most of it, and very much intrigued.

I am enjoying the kitchen and cooking. So far I have made 'locro de papa' and menestras and empanadas. Maya is tolerant of the food, but not thrilled.  I spend alot of energy keeping the fat cat out of the food. He has figured out how to open the cupboard doors, so I have to tie the doors closed. I have no idea what he gets into when I am asleep.

First Day

Today is the first day of my new life in Quito. The apartment is taken care of (first and last two months rent taken care of), Maya is happy at school and with her daily ballet and violin teacher, Eric is in New Jersey ready to deliver an amazing talk, we have reconnected with our closest friends here, the cats are comfortable in the house, I am taking care of my practice from afar....now what? My father asked me last night about what I planned to do while I was here, what my plans were for my life. I was not sure what to answer. I had truly not thought that far. Until we arrived here, I was entirely in denial. Moving from Baltimore, Eric losing his position at Hopkins (he still has a title in the Engineering and Neuroscience departments), living in Ecuador; nothing felt real, so I continued with my life as if nothing would change. I bought a new car, I took Maya to the SPCA to choose new pets, I planned a trip to Europe for the summer. I spent weeks packing up my room and my office and Maya's spaces, but I was in a trance throughout, not really conscious of the inevitable end of my life in Baltimore.

When Maya and I returned after our trip to Europe, I went to work, as if it was a normal return home to my usual life. Eric was going mad getting the house together, and I helped here and there, but I was not ready to move away from our lives, so I lived in a fugue, and missed the reality of our situation. I did not say goodbye to anyone. I was just leaving for a few weeks. Which is true in a way.

Flying to Ecuador, finding an apartment, registering Maya for school and dance and connecting with her violin teacher; everything has gone remarkably well. We are home now in Quito. What next in my life? Eric is busy with his science. I am home once a month for a week. Otherwise I am entirely free.

So with my first free day, without any pressing tasks or responsibilities, I slept in til noon. Not at all my usual behaviour. Perhaps I was just recovering from jetlag from two weeks ago....or from the daily pressures of our travel and arrival here, or  because I did not sleep well during the night.  Last night, Maya and I baked cookies and I almost burned down the apartment misusing the gas oven. She was terrified that we would be gassed during the night or that fire was imminent. Later, Eric was unable to make contact with a taxi company so we had to descend into the street (inadvisable at night here) and look for a taxi. There were none at Hotel Finlandia. Eric finally was able to talk to a taxi company. We all waited for a black Hyundai, which finally came to take Eric to the airport. When we returned to the apartment, we were somewhat discombobulated. Maya and I slept close together in an effort to feel safer. Quinn the cat got outside on the terrace and wandered outside all night but only after he ate all the bread hidden in the tallest cupboard; perhaps that is what kept me up all night.

Eric woke me up with a skype call after I failed to answer his countless emails. I was up and ready to move as soon as I realized how late it was. I decided to start my first true day in my new life with a visit to my favourite museum, or at least my first favourite, the Banco Central at the Casa de la Cultura. I was lost in ancient times and very comfortable there. I am not sure I am anywhere with knowing what I am doing here.

I was late getting to Maya. The Ecovia was full and I had to wait for a few to pass by until I could get on. Maya  was very resourceful in expressing herself to the guardia until I arrived. She is starting to use Spanish, which is a relief to me. I have tomorrow and the next days to figure out my purpose.

Slower Pace

I must get accustomed to a slower pace. I was up early to get Maya ready for school, but once she was fed and dressed and off on her bus to school, our lives slowed to a crawl. Coffee at Boncaffee and then another; after that, I am not sure how we wound through the morning. Eric worked on the talk he is to give Thursday in New Jersey on sustainability, and I tried to be helpful. I wondered how it was that in my real life, I am constantly running and moving mountains. Today I walked out on the terrace to look at the mountains and the clouds and the sky, and took a few photos.

I was antsy by midday. I think Eric can fiddle on his laptop all day. I insisted that we make a Megamaxi run, to buy a list of necessary items for the apartment.  That took an inordinate amount of time, as we worked through our extensive list, and the store is massive. It is odd how entertaining shopping can be when in a foreign store.

I was still agitated after feeding us lunch, so I convinced Eric to join me for a walk while he tried out his talk. He did not believe he could think while walking, but we worked on his delivery, and we walked the fifty minutes to the Mariscal. Plaza Foch was packed with tourists and locals, all ready for the Ecuador Uruguay game at 4:30. Eric's talk was truly coming together, so I felt useful. Eric's collaborator came to meet us with her student, but I had only a minute to be social before I had to catch the Ecovia in time to meet Maya and her bus. The Ecovia was packed, and it was a painful squeeze to get in and a worse experience to get out. I was relieved not to be robbed!

I decided to surprise Eric with his favourite soup, 'locro de papa'. He brought Melissa and her student to the apartment for dinner. It felt good to entertain in our new space, and I was relieved to have more than enough to feed five people. Eric had to buy more plates and bowls so we all could eat.

Maya wanted to bake cookies, so I almost burned down the house when I tried to start the gas oven, and then she was terribly fearful that the oven would misbehave. Eric flew out this evening to give his talk at NJIT, so Maya and I are alone for a few days with the cats. Quinn keeps trying to get into the garbage for an extra treat, so I am trying to ignore him while I fall asleep. The cats are a good thing; they keep me company.

Re Learning Patience

This week, and today in particular, has been a lesson in learning patience, ore perhaps I am relearning patience, which I learned the year I lived here, and lost in the two years away.

I have been without internet for a week. Days are defined by visits to 'El Espanol' to check messages at the office, or skyping patients or family, or keeping in touch with friends. Reading the titles of New York Times articles while Eric or Maya are catching up is my guilty pleasure. After the bus successfully picked Maya up, Eric and I tried to go to El Espanol, but it was not yet open, so we tried Boncaffee, the coffee shop we went to daily when we lived here. Usually I liked to look at 'El Comercio', the daily paper, but it was not available, and there was no internet in the coffee shop. There had been a favourite political magazine both Eric and I liked when we were here in 2009-10, but it was also nowhere to be seen. I wondered if the president of Ecuador closed it down, since it was very critical of him and he is not known to tolerate critical comments. This is ironic, in that he is protecting Assange and his right to free speech. We found another very bold article about Correa and his misteps.

The fellow behind the counter had worked at the Cafe when we lived here before, but he did not recognize us. I am sure that a couple of the customers did, but of course they all say hello and goodbye to everyone when they come and go.

The cable people were to arrive at 11, and they did, but they had all sorts of problems and stayed for hours to connect us. This is simply how things happen in our lives here. Sometimes people come on time, or they don't, and sometimes things are done efficiently, and sometimes everything takes hours and hours, and I am simply fine with that. I am certain I would not be fine with it at home in Baltimore, but here I am patient and calm.

 We were addicted to our computers for a bit, and soon Maya was almost home (except that the bus had a flat tire and came much later than expected.....Eric and I waited patiently on the street.  Maya was fine with waiting for the later ballet class. She seems very happy at school and I am so relieved. Eric and I are enjoying playing house in our new apartment.

Intro to Quito

Today was a good day to start exploring Quito. Isabel had told us about a new French bakery that had opened recently, apparently with the absolute best treats ever, so of course, we decided to check it out. Luckily it was just down Republica del Salvador past Portugal to Irlanda. We were a little skeptical; I insisted on trying the croissant to see if it was 'French' enough, Eric of course ordered a baguette (more expensive than one would expect) and Maya tried the pain au chocolat. Cappucinos were remarkably good, Maya ordered Mayan hot chocolate, which was made without milk and therefore thick and tasted of honey; it was hot and burned my throat, but was tasty. More important was that the bread and the pastries were excellent. A French pastry chef had taught his workers well. The rest of the cakes and pastries looked amazing. I will have to watch myself and not indulge too much. Last time I was in Ecuador, I enjoyed 'Cyrano's' far too much. Hopefully I will stay away from 'Cyril'.

Eric wanted to stay in the apartment and work on his talk, so we stopped at 'El Espanol' for internet and less than tasty coffee, and Eric bought some more 'carga' for his internet device, and Maya and I left him for colonial Quito. The Ecovia goes directly to the old town, and we were there in twenty minutes. The ascent to Plaza Grande was packed with people, both hawkers and customers. The main square was full of visitors, with a band playing the theme from the 'Titanic', prosytelizers telling us about Jesus and the bible, women selling ice cream, and boys trying to polish our running shoes. We had stopped at a mass at St Augustin on the way to Plaza Grande, and visited another church at the corner of the square, that is not often open, and quite lovely inside. I tried to make comparisons to the baroque churches in Rome, on which these colonial churches are modeled, but they are truly so very different and with an entirely novel feel. It was Sunday, so almost every open church had a mass going. 

We checked out a 'Diego Rivera' and 'Maya' exhibit at the colonial university, and then walked along to San Francisco, passing artists drawing faces and painting local scenery. The road was closed to traffic and full of local visitors. The 'papeleria' stores were open, and long lines of customers were waiting, presumably to buy school supplies. We passed my favorite museum, La Casa Abalado, and of course I wanted to go in, but Maya was not interested, so we checked out the new hotel on the corner. It had been under construction the year we lived here, but now it was new and gorgeous and likely outrageously expensive. At San Francisco square, we visited the main church and the Catuno chapel, and had to be quiet because masses were happening. Maya was most interested in the 'Tanguez' Free Trade store, still a rabbit warren under the San Francisco monastery, but newly painted and rooms added. I must remember to buy as many wonderful items as possible. I was so disappointed when we left Ecuador last time and I had always told myself that I would buy things but ran out of time and bought nothing. Of course, in an effort to avoid robbery today, I brought just enough money to last the day, and there was not enough to buy any souvenirs. We live here, and are not strangers to Ecuador, but we remain tourists.

I was starving, so we ate at the touristy restaurant attached to the store. The empanadas were good, but the sandwich unremarkable. Better to eat local. Maya wanted to get home to practice her violin (how could I complain about that?) so we found our way back on the Ecovia and were home in time to watch the sun go down at the apartment. It is Maya's job to make dinner tonight, the first real meal in our new apartment. We have movies at $1.50 each to watch tonight. Eric and I walked around the terrace to watch our view and take a few photos. We have a bit of a view of the mountains between buildings. I hear an occasional plane fly by; I did not plan for that, but there is a new airport ready to open next month, as long as the roads to the airport get finished (probably not), so perhaps the planes flying by will stop (not likely). We are very comfortable in our new home, and the cats are happy, getting into every corner to explore.

Sept 8

Maya was up early working on Lesson Six of her homeschooling program ( I am so impressed!), long before Eric and I awakened. Breakfast with the sun shining in was just perfect. Eric and I were slow moving, but there was a lot to organize in the apartment; most important was rescuing my computer, which had been dying for sometime and was imminently nearer death (I expected that; it is five years old and has been through many adventures). Eric wanted to back up my computer, but was struggling with his drives, and it would take a day or so to back everything up. Much time was devoted to getting the computers set up and working. 

We all walked to Quicentro for coffee and internet, and when Eric went to Isabel's to help fix their water pump, Maya and I wandered around the shopping center looking for a backpack and were held hostage in the food court with too much choice. Maya settled on vegetable risotto which was made with the wrong rice and odd tasting cheese, but tasty nevertheless. I love the yoghurt with fruit, usually served with yucca bread. We met Eric returning from a successful venture at Isabel's and after Maya finished her violin practice, she and I took the Ecovia to the Rio Coca bus station. Ihad forgotten that to get to cumbaya, it ws best to leave the Ecovia station and walk to the other bus station, so we wasted a lot of itme waiting for a bus to Cumbaya at the wrong stop, before I remembered where to go. Once we boarded the bus, off it went speedily to a hardly recognizable Cumbaya corner. A new shopping center had been built, and the circle that once caused enormous backups was gone. We walked down the hill to Maria and Hernan's house. Many new restaurants and establishments dotted the road, and everything looked better than ever. 

Noticeable was how dry the hills were, and how many fires had raged. I had read about one in the area around Puembo that had taken several days to control and had wiped out hectares of land. When we got to Maria's we checked out their blueberry crop, which had struggled through five months of drought. It was great to catch up with Maria, who was shocked that we were back in Ecuador. Gabriel had grown a lot, but Maya was a head taller. We caught up with news, and Hernan, Maria, and Gabriel all came over to our place for pizza and leftover birthday cake. We drank the wine that Isabel gave Eric for his birthday, and could have drunk more. What a wonderful change for us, to have a place to entertain. We missed that when we had our former Quito apartment. The cats area delight as well. They will keep us company especially when Eric is gone and Maya and I are alone.