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