After about 4 weeks with out a blog entry, I sit in some dingy Internet cafe in Ecuador, fully equipped with florescent lighting and noisy ceiling fans, and try my best to figure out how best pick up where ever I left off. I am in Bahia de Caraquez, a big coastal town about 4 hours north of Guayaquil. Although famous for its citizen's commitment of an environmental ethic, this town does not shout a particularly hippy vibe as you might expect of such a place. Rather it comes off as a quite little port town proud of its self and turning quickly into an international vacation and retiree destination. In fact, Ive met more retired Americans here than I have since leaving home, which might have something to do with the fact that the cheapest hostel in town happens to be owned by a retired Australian women who has lots of retired friends. But I was strangely surprised to meet 2 American couples and a number of retired single men who chose Ecuador, of all places, to spend a good chunk of their pension on. So just remember, when you are thinking of places to retire, don't write Ecuador off so easily...
Anyway, I do have quite a bit of catching up to do. I have experienced a lot over the last few weeks, from bidding volunteering in Salasaca goodbye to zip lining in a cloud forest to purchasing my return ticket home, which I suppose is a great place to start.
I finally bit the bullet and changed my air plane ticket home. My original ticket was for September 4, two Sundays ago. But I felt unprepared and under traveled, and simply craving more time to explore this continent. Also mixed into the equation is the fact that Elise, my sister, is living in Mendoza, Argentina and my parents are planning a trip to visit here in the middle of October. This was reason enough to move my ticket to return home October 23, leaving from Santiago, Chile.
So as of this moment I will be taking a bus from Guayaquil, Ecuador, destined for Lima, Peru on Saturday or Sunday, hopefully ending up there Monday. I hope to visit some friends I had met down there before catching another bus for Santiago. I will then cross my third international boarder into Argentina to do some exploring down there.
Expect more interesting posts soon!
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
Cotopaxi field trip
Here´s the update from my trip last weekend to Cotopaxi that I haven´t written about yet:
As I believe I´ve written before, I live with about 15 other volunteers in a huge house in Salasaca. This number fluctuates because there is no minimum time you must spend here to volunteer; people have stayed from 3 nights to 6 months or more. Last week about 12 of us had developed a great dynamic and decided to travel together to Cotopaxi National Park, a national reserve that circles the Cotopaxi Volcano. After having traveled solo for so long I was a bit apprehensive of traveling with 11 other buddies together to do the same thing for two whole days. But my nerves calmed themselves within moments when we departed from Salasaca, hopping on the back of a pick up truck, a means of transport you become quite accustomed to in this country. We must have been quite a sight the whole weekend; we bartered, made decisions, and ate all together. We then loaded on the bus to Michachi, the funny sounding named town very close to the entrance of the park. Another great thing about traveling with this particular group is that as backpackers with very little money, we seemed to try to out do each other for finding the best deal. So we made it almost a competition to see who could barter down the best price for room and food. We ended up finding a cute little hotel for $4 a night -- and it wasn´t that bad!
Anyway, Saturday morning we awoke with Cotopaxi looming somewhere above our heads (exact location was always a mystery because of the perpetual thick cloud covering) and loaded onto another truck that climbed up the winding hills between verdant farm land and dropped us off at the entrance of the park an hour later. Paying 10 bucks per person to enter the park (oh, by the way, Ecuador is on the dollar), we walked for a while before realizing it was a 3 hour hike to the base of the volcano. With that in mind we hailed the only other truck we could find to take us to the base and with in half an hour we were holding onto the sides of the truck hoping the wind wouldn´t whip us out. Unfortunately even the base, at about 4,000 meters, was colder than most January days in NH or VT. We were throwing snow balls and everything, but were ready to leave within 5 minutes. When we rolled back down the hill we were ready for the bagged lunch we brought followed by a nice long walk through another part of the park.
So, all in all it was a great weekend. And this weekend will find me enjoying Salasaca for all it´s worth before I leave for the South on Friday.
As I believe I´ve written before, I live with about 15 other volunteers in a huge house in Salasaca. This number fluctuates because there is no minimum time you must spend here to volunteer; people have stayed from 3 nights to 6 months or more. Last week about 12 of us had developed a great dynamic and decided to travel together to Cotopaxi National Park, a national reserve that circles the Cotopaxi Volcano. After having traveled solo for so long I was a bit apprehensive of traveling with 11 other buddies together to do the same thing for two whole days. But my nerves calmed themselves within moments when we departed from Salasaca, hopping on the back of a pick up truck, a means of transport you become quite accustomed to in this country. We must have been quite a sight the whole weekend; we bartered, made decisions, and ate all together. We then loaded on the bus to Michachi, the funny sounding named town very close to the entrance of the park. Another great thing about traveling with this particular group is that as backpackers with very little money, we seemed to try to out do each other for finding the best deal. So we made it almost a competition to see who could barter down the best price for room and food. We ended up finding a cute little hotel for $4 a night -- and it wasn´t that bad!
Anyway, Saturday morning we awoke with Cotopaxi looming somewhere above our heads (exact location was always a mystery because of the perpetual thick cloud covering) and loaded onto another truck that climbed up the winding hills between verdant farm land and dropped us off at the entrance of the park an hour later. Paying 10 bucks per person to enter the park (oh, by the way, Ecuador is on the dollar), we walked for a while before realizing it was a 3 hour hike to the base of the volcano. With that in mind we hailed the only other truck we could find to take us to the base and with in half an hour we were holding onto the sides of the truck hoping the wind wouldn´t whip us out. Unfortunately even the base, at about 4,000 meters, was colder than most January days in NH or VT. We were throwing snow balls and everything, but were ready to leave within 5 minutes. When we rolled back down the hill we were ready for the bagged lunch we brought followed by a nice long walk through another part of the park.
So, all in all it was a great weekend. And this weekend will find me enjoying Salasaca for all it´s worth before I leave for the South on Friday.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
I can´t not write about Salasaca because it´s THIS amazing...
Teaching in such a place gives me a new sense of responsibility unknown to me in my previous traveling experiences. I wake up every morning thinking about what I will plan to teach, and thinking about how the students will respond to what I attempt to teach them. Schedules have changed from my first two weeks here; summer school is no longer in session and I am teaching two English classes for high school students. And the eagerness that these children bring to learning is in itself a reason to wake up in the morning. I don´t know how keen these kids are in other subjects, but I daily get to stand in front of 5 twelve year olds who are awake and ready to learn, an anomaly in the world of middleschoolers as I learned from my months of substituting back home. And the past couple of days these students have been asking for class to end a half an hour later...such a gift!
And I continue to be enamoured with Salasaca, Ecuador, the town I´m living in. Every day I walk down the road to school and am greeted by a number of smiling faces, some dirty faces of young children, other toothless grins of older women, others with thick, leathery skin gained by decades working in the fields under a relentless sun. Salasaca is a unique place in many ways, from their interesting history to the ways they treat the world and community. Prior to the invasion of the Spaniards, when the Incas where the conquerors of this land, the Salasacans were pushed out of Peru and exiled to this area. So they share the Quechua-Andean lifestyle, diet, and dress. Their language, the common first language for most Salasacans, is Kitchwa not Quechua. Shielded by the towering enclaves of the Ecuadorian Andes, this town has grown up solitary and continues to hold strongly onto it´s cultural identity. Wearing long, thick, black skirts with a flowy white blouse covered by a vivid wool shawl, the women usually don't leave home with out their sigsig, a drop spindle type instrument they use to spin outrageously thin yarn. And that yarn is in turn given to the men to weave into intricate wall hangings, shawls, or ponchos, the latter of which most men wear over their street close; long, sweeping black ponchos.
And last night my fellow volunteers and I were invited to a going away party for the brother of Fabiola, a women who works with this school and cleans the volunteer house. Nights here drop like thick dark blankets leaving the earth dark, cold, and damp within moments, so the family sent a truck to pick us up. Huddled together in the back, we zig zagged through corn fields and up windy hills to Fabiola´s parent´s house, who ushered us in to their property. Houses here pop up from the ground in clusters, not in one cohesive unit like back in the states. So, the kitchen house, the bed rooms, and other buildings sit huddled together surrounding the common outside area (think court yard of dirt) where the family does their daily chores. Fabiola´s father and brothers are weavers, so their looms dominate their home, and have the biggest room dedicated to them, which was the only place big enough to house the hungry volunteers. Anyway, soon after marveling at this place, we were fed our feast: Chocolo con queso (corn and fresh cheese), potatos with hot sauce, chicken, chicken soup, and, for us lucky ones, cuy (guinay pig). It was lovely.
Ok, I know I need to post more info, I´ll try to give you all a detailed update on my weekend soon, I went a socialized with volcanoes!
And I continue to be enamoured with Salasaca, Ecuador, the town I´m living in. Every day I walk down the road to school and am greeted by a number of smiling faces, some dirty faces of young children, other toothless grins of older women, others with thick, leathery skin gained by decades working in the fields under a relentless sun. Salasaca is a unique place in many ways, from their interesting history to the ways they treat the world and community. Prior to the invasion of the Spaniards, when the Incas where the conquerors of this land, the Salasacans were pushed out of Peru and exiled to this area. So they share the Quechua-Andean lifestyle, diet, and dress. Their language, the common first language for most Salasacans, is Kitchwa not Quechua. Shielded by the towering enclaves of the Ecuadorian Andes, this town has grown up solitary and continues to hold strongly onto it´s cultural identity. Wearing long, thick, black skirts with a flowy white blouse covered by a vivid wool shawl, the women usually don't leave home with out their sigsig, a drop spindle type instrument they use to spin outrageously thin yarn. And that yarn is in turn given to the men to weave into intricate wall hangings, shawls, or ponchos, the latter of which most men wear over their street close; long, sweeping black ponchos.
And last night my fellow volunteers and I were invited to a going away party for the brother of Fabiola, a women who works with this school and cleans the volunteer house. Nights here drop like thick dark blankets leaving the earth dark, cold, and damp within moments, so the family sent a truck to pick us up. Huddled together in the back, we zig zagged through corn fields and up windy hills to Fabiola´s parent´s house, who ushered us in to their property. Houses here pop up from the ground in clusters, not in one cohesive unit like back in the states. So, the kitchen house, the bed rooms, and other buildings sit huddled together surrounding the common outside area (think court yard of dirt) where the family does their daily chores. Fabiola´s father and brothers are weavers, so their looms dominate their home, and have the biggest room dedicated to them, which was the only place big enough to house the hungry volunteers. Anyway, soon after marveling at this place, we were fed our feast: Chocolo con queso (corn and fresh cheese), potatos with hot sauce, chicken, chicken soup, and, for us lucky ones, cuy (guinay pig). It was lovely.
Ok, I know I need to post more info, I´ll try to give you all a detailed update on my weekend soon, I went a socialized with volcanoes!
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Vistas under volcanos
I am enchanted with settled life, the lovely monotony of getting to know the landscape of a certain place so well that your eyes can expect what they will see every morning. At first glance this place is spectacular; when I first arrived I had difficulty telling the difference between the vista I saw out of my eyes and a professional photo you´d see on a postcard. But seeing these views everyday, these mountains that tower over the valley, has given me the time to investigate it´s beauty up close. I see the verdant, dusty green valley that tumbles beneath the volunteer house and know that almost every house I see bellow has a donkey or cow lounging behind it in the shade and a large garden that the wife works on while the husband is at work in the city or selling his crafts at the market. I notice how the frequent, small eruptions of Tungurawa, the active volcano near us, effect the weather the following day, usually leaving us with little sun and thick cloud covering. And I count the number of home made kites that swim in the air overhead, hanging on tightly to the string their creator, usually a young child, uses to steer it.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Oh, another day in Salasaca...
I have settled into the lifestyle of volunteering in Salasaca. The days have taken on the calm, steady rhythm of life that I miss from waking up in the same bed for more than 5 days in a row. My daily schedule begins at an earlier time in the day than I have seen in a while -- 6.30 in the morning. When I arise there is oatmeal waiting for me (and the other volunteers, too) in the kitchen, where all the volunteers get a chance to debrief each other and prepare for the day together. Afterward I get prepared for my 9:15 Spanish literacy class for 3 young children do not yet read, and in fact whose Spanish skills are relatively lacking; Kitchwa is the first language which they speak at home and they usually learn Spanish later on. That class is a bit trying because of the behavior problems that come with these kids, but they all are enchanted when being read to. After that I have time to plan my next lesson and write to you (which is my time to write to you now). After that is lunch with the children, usually consisting of a huge bowl of white rice and a few vegetables. I then have the whole afternoon to take the half an hour walk up to the other school where the garden is located. I usually go up with another volunteer to do some weeding and chicken chores (we have 11 chickens and 1 duck). I usually quickly need to run down the long hill in order to make it back to the library to teach an English class to adults. By 6 in the evening I´m usually exhausted, ready for a nap, dinner, and bed.
Another joy of living in Salasaca is the opportunity I have to live with a hogde-podge clan of other volunteers, from all over the world and from so many different lifestyles. The first volunteer I must mention is Robert, an American in his 70´s who moved here 6 years ago when he retired. He has since worked almost every day to improve this school in every way he can, from teaching English classes to repairing the plumbing, to assisting the volunteers with every problem they may have. His dedication to this project is inspiring; he is happy living in rural Ecuador doing something he believes in with his time and money. In addition to Robert, the foreign volunteers usually stay here from 2 weeks to a couple of months, and I have enjoyed sharing traveling stories and learning from what they are up to in their journeys. And, of course, I can´t forget the community of Salasacans I have met through the school and around the neighborhood. On my walk to school everyday I pass a number of Salasacans who offer me their daily greetings and short conversations. I do feel like I again have a comfortable and friendly community to live it, which is something I miss so much from home.
On very special mornings when the fog and thick clouds that usually coat the sky line have found another town to pester, I have the pleasure of socializing with the 6 volcano's of this region. Tunguraurua (I think I´ve spelled this correctly) is the only active volcano, however it won´t let anyone forget that it´s here and lets off little roars on a regular basis. I have never spent so much time around something so imposing and strong as a volcano, but it is a pretty cool experience.
In other news, Monday morning I was walking across the kitchen to get some food and all of a sudden I felt something funny going on on my foot and realized that my Chaco sandal (my favorite kind of footwear) had broken. So now I´m down to one pair of shoes!
Another joy of living in Salasaca is the opportunity I have to live with a hogde-podge clan of other volunteers, from all over the world and from so many different lifestyles. The first volunteer I must mention is Robert, an American in his 70´s who moved here 6 years ago when he retired. He has since worked almost every day to improve this school in every way he can, from teaching English classes to repairing the plumbing, to assisting the volunteers with every problem they may have. His dedication to this project is inspiring; he is happy living in rural Ecuador doing something he believes in with his time and money. In addition to Robert, the foreign volunteers usually stay here from 2 weeks to a couple of months, and I have enjoyed sharing traveling stories and learning from what they are up to in their journeys. And, of course, I can´t forget the community of Salasacans I have met through the school and around the neighborhood. On my walk to school everyday I pass a number of Salasacans who offer me their daily greetings and short conversations. I do feel like I again have a comfortable and friendly community to live it, which is something I miss so much from home.
On very special mornings when the fog and thick clouds that usually coat the sky line have found another town to pester, I have the pleasure of socializing with the 6 volcano's of this region. Tunguraurua (I think I´ve spelled this correctly) is the only active volcano, however it won´t let anyone forget that it´s here and lets off little roars on a regular basis. I have never spent so much time around something so imposing and strong as a volcano, but it is a pretty cool experience.
In other news, Monday morning I was walking across the kitchen to get some food and all of a sudden I felt something funny going on on my foot and realized that my Chaco sandal (my favorite kind of footwear) had broken. So now I´m down to one pair of shoes!
Saturday, July 24, 2010
The beginning of my time in Salasaca
Finally I am writing again! It´s about time, too, because a lot has changed in my traveling life since I last updated this blog. First and foremost I have temporarily put the nomadic lifestyle on hold. Last week I moved into the volunteer house of the Sumak Kawsay Yachay Ecuador Organization (SKY Ecuador, look in up on Google, great web site). This is a non profit organization that helps to run and organize a public school in the Andes of Ecuador, in a small town called Salasaca. The volunteers teach classes to children and adults, help with maintenance tasks, staff the library, and-or take care of the garden. Also, as a volunteer you only have to pay 10 dollars a week (a very small few compared to most of these volunteer operations down here) for a bed to sleep in in a really nice volunteer house and two meals a day. This organization is simoulaitiously well organized and laid back and thus can contribute a good education to this town and also attract a troop of traveling volunteers who want to have such an opportunity.
I arrived Friday afternoon after what may have been my most unenjoyable bus ride to date. I have found that the way buses work in most parts of Peru and Ecuador, especially the cheaper ones, is that they act more like a city bus than a long distance transportation service. This means that people can get on and off at any point along the journey, all you have to do is stand at the side of the road and wave one down and if all the seats are taken there is plenty of aisle room to stand. Add to that a noisy and horrific movie and crying children on all sides of my bus seat. So I was a bit squished to say the least. I got off the bus in Ambato and after making my connecting bus to Salasaca I asked around to where I could find this organization. Noticing the very obvious sense of anxiety on my face, a very nice set of Salasacans loaded me onto an open back truck to get off at the Bibiloteca Rosa Maria, the library that this organization runs.
I aimed to find an opportunity to get off the beaten travel track when I came South America. I wanted the chance to live next to people who know this land so well, whose life styles and expectations about life sit out side my comfort level. When I arrived to Salasaca and started learning about this organization I realized that this place can give me the opportunity to ease into finding out more about Ecuadorians. In the short week I have lived here, I have settled back into country living and am now accustomed to walking from home to school to feed the chickens, about a half an hour walk in which time I usually pass a handful of humans to say hello to, and countless sheep, donkeys, and cows. Also, I am enjoying the chance I have to be working again. Although I am not being paid, the satisfaction I get from volunteering is totally worth it, especially after many months of wandering around the continent. The jobs I have are to work in the little garden and to teach two classes: English for Adults in the evenings, and Spanish Literacy (yes that's right, Spanish) to a small group of young children. I think I´ll be learning a lot this month!
I arrived Friday afternoon after what may have been my most unenjoyable bus ride to date. I have found that the way buses work in most parts of Peru and Ecuador, especially the cheaper ones, is that they act more like a city bus than a long distance transportation service. This means that people can get on and off at any point along the journey, all you have to do is stand at the side of the road and wave one down and if all the seats are taken there is plenty of aisle room to stand. Add to that a noisy and horrific movie and crying children on all sides of my bus seat. So I was a bit squished to say the least. I got off the bus in Ambato and after making my connecting bus to Salasaca I asked around to where I could find this organization. Noticing the very obvious sense of anxiety on my face, a very nice set of Salasacans loaded me onto an open back truck to get off at the Bibiloteca Rosa Maria, the library that this organization runs.
I aimed to find an opportunity to get off the beaten travel track when I came South America. I wanted the chance to live next to people who know this land so well, whose life styles and expectations about life sit out side my comfort level. When I arrived to Salasaca and started learning about this organization I realized that this place can give me the opportunity to ease into finding out more about Ecuadorians. In the short week I have lived here, I have settled back into country living and am now accustomed to walking from home to school to feed the chickens, about a half an hour walk in which time I usually pass a handful of humans to say hello to, and countless sheep, donkeys, and cows. Also, I am enjoying the chance I have to be working again. Although I am not being paid, the satisfaction I get from volunteering is totally worth it, especially after many months of wandering around the continent. The jobs I have are to work in the little garden and to teach two classes: English for Adults in the evenings, and Spanish Literacy (yes that's right, Spanish) to a small group of young children. I think I´ll be learning a lot this month!
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Exploring new sides of Ecuador
After a calm, relaxing weekend in Vilcabamba, I awoke Monday morning ready to tare myself away from this refuge of chilled out ex-pat hippies and ideal climate (Vilcabamba is a small town in Southern Ecuador that has a huge population of foreigners searching for a different lifestyle). I climbed on a mid morning bus headed for Cuenca, unsure of what to expect but excited to experience a different area of Ecuador. Four hours and two loud American wrestling movies later I arrived in the Cuenca bus terminal and caught a cab to my hostel with the two Australian travelers I had taken the bus with.
Located in the southern half of Ecuador, Cuenca exudes the romantic, quaint feeling I´ve gotten from walking around old cities in Spain. The architecture of the multitude of churches and cathedrals towered over my head as I strolled down the cobble stone streets in search of a coffee shop my first day here. I stopped still in my tracks when I looked up and saw two radiant blue domes socializing with the rain clouds and had to remind myself exactly which country (and which continent) I was standing in. This city seems very proud of its culture and has enough museums to attest it. Yesterday I visited the Museo del Banco Central which houses art exhibits, a display of old coins, and a collection of shrunken heads. Yes, I really mean multiple human heads that have been downsized and sit in glass cases so you can gock and stare at them. It´s actually more fascinating than disgusting. I learned that a tribe in the Ecuadorian jungle would, after capturing an enemy or criminal, decapitate them, take out the insides of the head, fill it with mud and allow the skin to shrink around it. This practice is certainly out side our realm of criminal justice, but I found it very fascinating and the way the museum presented it was with the utmost respect for this dignified culture.
When I first arrived here I was just going to leave the next day; I even bought my departing bus ticket. But last night I had a change of heart and I will be here for one more day. I am finding it to be an ideal place to be right now!
Located in the southern half of Ecuador, Cuenca exudes the romantic, quaint feeling I´ve gotten from walking around old cities in Spain. The architecture of the multitude of churches and cathedrals towered over my head as I strolled down the cobble stone streets in search of a coffee shop my first day here. I stopped still in my tracks when I looked up and saw two radiant blue domes socializing with the rain clouds and had to remind myself exactly which country (and which continent) I was standing in. This city seems very proud of its culture and has enough museums to attest it. Yesterday I visited the Museo del Banco Central which houses art exhibits, a display of old coins, and a collection of shrunken heads. Yes, I really mean multiple human heads that have been downsized and sit in glass cases so you can gock and stare at them. It´s actually more fascinating than disgusting. I learned that a tribe in the Ecuadorian jungle would, after capturing an enemy or criminal, decapitate them, take out the insides of the head, fill it with mud and allow the skin to shrink around it. This practice is certainly out side our realm of criminal justice, but I found it very fascinating and the way the museum presented it was with the utmost respect for this dignified culture.
When I first arrived here I was just going to leave the next day; I even bought my departing bus ticket. But last night I had a change of heart and I will be here for one more day. I am finding it to be an ideal place to be right now!
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