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.
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.
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