Las Islas Galapagos (Los Encantantes) October 27, 2009
Today we returned from one of the most magical places in the world, the Galapagos. I don't even know how to begin, there is too much to say, and as with my pictures, I will never be able to do the islands the justice they deserve, here it goes.
Before we continue, the most important thing you need to understand about the Galapagos is that all animals have absolutely no fear of humans. You can get within INCHES of some of the most bizarre animals in the world.
OK, for to prevent information overload, I'll go chronologically. We arrived at the Baltra airstrip Tuesday morning and were divided into two groups for the week. If I have one complaint about the trip, it is that we were isolated from 11 of our classmates and could only share incredible experiences with half of our class. Anyway, my half elected to go live with a Galapagueno family first for 3 days and tours islands second for 4 days and vice versa for the other group. From the airport we rode by chiva to a giant tortoise reserve and got our first look at what the Galapagos is known for. Quite frankly, the giant tortoises were among the least exciting wildlife we encountered. They were big, slow and very uninterested in us. From there we traveled by ferry to the most populated island of Santa Cruz only to hop on a bus for 20 minutes across the island to catch a faster transport boat which moved us at about 9 knots for 3 hours to the largest island in the archipelago, Isabela. From there we finally meet our hoststay families. Because the whole island has a population of about 2000 people we had to double up students with families. Unlike Intag or Quito, our homestays were not prematched to best fit our personalities or preferences, instead we rode by chiva through the town and make random stops in front of the various homes. Dylan and I jumped out at the first house. Turns out we got the craziest Galapagueno in all of the archipelago as our father, Celso. He looked like a Caribbean Santa Claus on cocaine. He had frizzy white hair, at least 4 visible growths on his neck that appeared cancerous and spoke in a heavy island accent. (dropping all of his S's, “mas o menos” becomes “ma meno”) I say he was crazy because he just talked and talked about whatever came to mind and would talk for a good 20 minutes straight until he forgot where he was going and would start over. During dinner, Dylan and I didn't say a word, we just listen to him tell us several incorrect facts about the origin of the Galapagos and its species. Also, he and his wife were on a vegetarian diet, at first I was happy but after we ate vegetarian hotdogs for every meal, I had second thoughts.
How the homestays on the island worked is students slept and ate breakfast and dinner with the family, but the rest of the day was spent with our half of the group. The first morning we bid farewell to Celso at 8 to be ready for the 815 chiva pick up, an hour and a half Dylan and I were still waiting. Turns out our driver decided to go to Guayaquil and not tell anyone. After paying another local to be our driver, we were off to Los Tuneles, an alien terrain, 30 minutes by panga (a small, high horsepowered dinghy). Just getting to this bizarre area was an adventure; on the way there we hit rough seas, did this mean we slow down or drive any differently? No, quite the contrary. We hauled it in two 6-person pangas over 10-12 foot waves cruising faster that I would like to know. I do know that every now and then we would hit a wave just right and all but the prop of our panga would be airborne. As if this wasn't enough, on the way there, manta rays started jumping out of the water all around us, feeding on plankton and getting a good two feet of air.
Once we arrived, we had to navigate though a maze of natural lava tunnels and bridges to get out of the rough seas and into the calmer backwaters. Once there we thought we were on a different planet. I'll try to add a few pictures, but I don't have the words to describe our surrounding; it was simply unlike any other place I have ever seen or heard of. Here we got our first glance at green sea turtles (the first of many), sting rays and tropical fish.
For the next 3 days we spent our time snorkeling or climbing volcanoes in the morning and swimming with sea lions and sea turtles in the afternoons. Our nights were generally on the completely empty beaches watching the sunsets. We were in the ocean everyday and on the beach every night.
We got to know our host parents a bit more, turns out Celso was Xavier's guide 30 years ago, when Xavier was in high school. Xavier said that he hasn't changed a bit.
In addition to the students and the professors, SIT pays the way for four other individuals to go to the Galapagos free of charge, its part of SIT's mission statement: reciprocity. Most Ecuadorians never get the chance to go to the Galapagos, and this is a way for us to give back to the country. This year SIT payed the way for my spanish instructor: Pilar, one of the sweetest Quitenas I have meet, she is a single mother in her 50's and has never been able to have a vacation of any kind much less visit the Galapagos. She literally hugged the beach when we landed. The second individual was a mujer named Marcia from the Intag Cloud forest. Marcia has been a leader against the mining industry for 5 years now and has lived in relative poverty as a result. She is only 28 years old, but has faced tear gas, paramilitary abuse and stood in front of mining trucks. Her ticket to the Galapagos is a small thanks for all she fights for. The third was Jennifer, Xavier's maid's 16 year old daughter and budding ecologist. Finally was Aldemar, who I learned usually gets to go along for the ride. He is our logistics coordinator. He works his ass off 50 weeks of the year and gets 2 free weeks in the Galapagos every year. Because he gets so little vacation, he lives every second to the fullest. For example, when we switched groups, we left the island at 2 pm and Alde had already had seven 22 ounce beers and was planning on having 7 more before the night was over. We played our fair share of frisbee, soccer and EcuaVol with a highly intoxicated Aldemar. It was great.
We switched groups on the 23th, it had only been 3 or 4 days, but I was surprised at how much I missed the other group and how happy we all were to see each other. It made us all think about how difficult it will be to say goodbye for our ISPs and at the end of the program....
We only had 10 minutes to catch up with the other group before we had to catch our boat and make way towards the San Jose a 90 foot, 4 story, touring boat. We embarked for 5 days and 4 nights. Each day we would spend snorkeling and exploring a different island and travel during the night. There is literally too much to say so I'll stick to the highlights.
Snorkeling the La corona del diablo ( the devils crown). This is the remnants of a collapsed volcano, so the outside of the crown was about 35 meters deep and swimming with white tip sharks, giant manta rays, green turtles and thousands and thousands of fish. Then we could dive under the crown and enter the shallows of the center. Here the were all types of bottom feeder and sea stars and the like. It was also the first time my spanish teacher Pilar ever snorkeled, she was so happy that it made everyone's day.
Sleeping out under the stars. On night, I slept out on the deck of the ship. I was freezing and sleeping under two towels, but I woke up at 330am with two friends to look at the stars. With no light pollution and no land visible on all sides of the boat, the sky looked like a planetarium. And because we were located on the equator, we could see both northern and southern hemisphere. Some cool facts: when the Inca saw Orion, because at the equator is on his side, as a butterfly not a hunter. His belt formed the body and his arms and legs were the wings. The Inca also used the seven sisters (the little dipper) as a means of an eye exam, the more stars you could distinguish, the better your sight was.
Swimming with dolphins. One day when we were about to hike into lava tunnels, we heard a yell from the boat to hop aboard and bring your snorkel gear. Once we were 20 minutes off shore we were joined by a pod of 40 or so dolphins, immediately, Xavier and I jumped in and found ourselves surrounded by clicking dolphins. I could I have grabbed a fin if reached my arm out.
Humpback whales. Again we were about to visit Post Office Bay (more on this later) when we saw whales on the horizon. We hoped in our pangas and boated 30 minutes and chased the humpbacks for a good half an hour until we finally got close enough. Then they were gone. We waited and waited. Then out of no where, a mother and her calf breached 10 meters from out boat. They would lift 90% of their bodies out of the water, spin onto their backs and crash down into the water. They kept playing for ten minutes, sounded and were gone.
Post Office Bay. One of the Galapagos oldest traditions, originally established in the 1700s for whalers as a free method of worldwide mail. Sailors would leave there mail in a common barrel and look through the rest of the mail to see if any was bound for a location that they would soon visit. Then it was their obligation to hand deliver the mail. This tradition is continued today. I sent 4 post cards on the 26th of October, with any luck they will be arriving before I graduate college.
In general we saw some of the world's most incredible wildlife, including, but not limited to: Blue footed, Red footed and Nasca Boobies, Humpbacks, bottlenose dolphins, giant tortosies, giant albatrosses, green sea turtle, giant manta rays, red throated frigate birds, more sea lions than we can count, and thousands and thousands of sea life.
Sylvia had told us that we would get tired of seeing sea lions on the beaches by the end of the trip, however, I have proven her wrong. I never got sick of seeing the lobos del mar (in spanish, sea wolves) every pier, dock, boat, beach, street and sometimes in the small tiendas.
I am running low on internet, there is so much more to say, but I have to run. Peace and happy birthday Carly.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
All Caught Up
Back into the Rhythm 11-Oct-2009
Its been almost a week back in Quito, with nothing major to report. My family and I are starting to finally understand each other (although this morning there was some confusion over what type of eggs I wanted and I ended up with poached eggs rather than hard boiled) My bother invited me to a terrace party for one of his friends on Friday night and my other brother likes to show off his guitar talents, so whenever I am doing homework around the house, there he is rocking away. Last week we only had two days of classes, due to a trip to an organic farm and a late arrival from the Oriente. This weekend seven of us told the teleferico, a cable car which ascends to about 4100 meters up the face of Quito's closest volcano, Pichincha. This is known as a “base camp” for those who are trying to summit the peak. Base camp is approximately half way between Quito and Pichincha's summit. Being a mile higher than we were used to made the ascent very difficult. According to our mountaineering guide, a fit, relatively acclimated climber can make the ascent in 3 hours.
A note for my mother, who is very anti-mountaineering, there is no technical element to this climb, meaning there at no time the need for axes, crampons, front pointing, or any type of roping or harnessing. It is as safe as a walk in the park. The trails are well marked and there is a medical staff on call.
That being said, about 2 hours into the climb there is fork in the trail, one way leads to the quicker, Pasa del muerte and the other the ruta del Pichincha. We elected the latter. The climb was not technical but strenuous and when we were about 30 minutes from the summit when a friend said she was having trouble seeing and felt light headed. She sat down for a moment and when she stood back up she collapsed and started shaking. My friend Elliot and I are both trained to treat these kind of situations, we treated her for shock and gave her a chocolate bar to help raise her blood sugar. We then covered her with all of the clothing that we could spare, elevated her legs and helped her drink some water. In about 20 minutes she had recovered and told us that this had happened twice before and was probably a combination of the thin air and small breakfast. We decided that this was a sign for us to turn back. By the time we touched down we all had sun burn lines from our sunglasses and hats and also had burned more calories than any previous day here in Quito. So we hopped on a bus for the local pancake house and ate our weigh in pancakes. Despues, we congregated at Andy's house to watch Ecuador take on Uruguay in a World Cup qualifier. In the last 30 seconds, Uruguay scored and pulled ahead, 2-1. The game ended and I'm surprised that there wasn't rioting in the streets. After the game I collapsed in bed and slept for 13 hours.
We have another week in Quito, then a week from Tuesday we fly to the Galapagos for a week. This is what everyone has been waiting for. The only thing that separates us is the busiest week yet of the program. Our grant proposals, Field investigation reports and Field Journals are all due this week.
We also have to commit to own Independent Study Projects before we leave for the Galapagos. I was considering a project in Puerto Lopez, working with children an elementary school, assisting a teacher for a month, but there was another person who had their heart set on the same project, so I pulled out. Now, half due to my choice and half due to Sylvia's forcefulness, I am 90% sure that I will be living in the Amazon for 4 weeks with an indigenous tribe, I will have to bring all the food I can and can only fly in by a dual engine-12 person plane on days when it is not raining. While there I will be working with community leaders on an ecotourism project as well as offer free english lessons during the evening. Still not committed, but it may look as if I have no choice.
On a final note, I apologize to my family and friends, who I have not been in contact with recently. It's hard to get to an international phone and also to an internet cafe. Both of which depend on my family, who at times doesn't have time to make the drive. I'll be calling this week, I owe the folks at Carleton another call, same goes for Hannah and my fam.
One last story, I left my house on Friday night to meet some friends. When I left, my parents and two family friends were playing cards, as they do every Friday and Saturday night. When I got back at 1:30aam they were still playing and after we talked for a bit, we both realized that neither of us had eaten dinner. So naturally we all made dinner and ate as a family at 230am. It was a little strange.
14-OCT-09
Not much report of late. Ecuador was bumped out of the World Cup Preliminaries, we leave for Las Galapagos next Tuesday and return the following Tuesday. Our spanish class has taken a turn for the better, we have stopped reviewing grammar and now simply speak about important Ecuadorian themes. Every night we have to go home and talk with our homestay family about 21th century socialism in Latin America, Ecuadorian poverty, surmounting climate change and environmental destruction. Because of this, my Spanish has improved more in the last 6 weeks than in all of the previous 6 years of formal classes.
Also, today I had a bad case of homesickness. The language, the stress, the culture shock all hit hard. I only tell this to you all so that you all know that, despite the adventure, I miss you all and am thinking of you. Especially my family (except for Carly). And mom, I have not forgotten your birthday and will try to find a working international phone tomorrow or the following day. I love and miss you all.
Oct 18, 2009
Again, sorry for the tardiness of my posts (if anyone still bothers to read)
Warning: Social Commentary/Ranting, skip to next paragraph if you don't care.
The longer we stay in Quito, the more apparent all of the isms our directors told us about become apparent. This city is filled with racism, classicism, sexism and homophobia. The racism is terrible towards anyone from anywhere in Asia, Colombia or the coast of Ecuador (people from the coast are known as 'monos' or monkeys) but by far the most hated group by the mestizo population is the indigenous population. As usual, the natives in here in Ecuador share the same, sad history of exploitation and discrimination. They have been subject to the three C's (colonization, Christianization, and civilization) since the first Spaniards arrived. Their land has been parceled of. In fact when the first Westerners arrived, one of the arguments used to justify the terrible treatment of the natives was that they were not the same race as Europeans because they had no sense of private property. This justified slavery and extermination because they were not human, but animals. On the flip side, with respect to land ownership, the various indigenous tribes did not believe you could own something that you depended on for survival. Anyways, the natives to Ecuador and all of South America have a long, sad history of mistreatment. In the past it was conquistadors today it is the oil companies. (except for a few remote tribes who have literally speared so many oil representatives that they are left alone) In the West's “civilization” of the indigenous population, which finally had reached the majority of native tribes by 1980, tens of thousands of natives had no choice but to be integrated into the western society. Because of this you will never see a mestizo begging on the street, only an indigenous individual. Now, they are the peddlers, the beggars, the poor. They are the ones no one will hire. The ones who make less than a dollar a day. Ecuador is a very machismo society: if a young man is sitting on the bus and an old mestizo lady walks on, he will give up his seat without thinking, but no one stands up for indian (a PC term in Ecuador). It was this treatment of the natives which helped lead Ernesto 'Che' Guevara to become a revolutionist in Argentina. (watch the movie, 'motorcycle diaries' to see what I mean) Anyways, everyday I find myself thinking more and more on the same thought: All that separates me from the young indigenous beggar boy on the corner is the circumstances we were born into. We are both humans, its just that I am a rich gringo with a home and my own car and he has nothing and is hated by some of his fellow countrymen and women. Out of all the places and situations that I could have been born into, I got mine and he got his. Neither of us had a choice, it just happened to us. But other than where we were born, nothing else makes us different from a biological perspective, then why are our lives so opposite? To borrow from the ideas of Che- How can we be divided, when there is so much that unites us?
Two big events happen this week and one happens this tuesday:
First, I have officially committed to live with the indigenous tribe Sarayaku for three weeks, starting November 7th until my birthday on the 28th. As I said before, I fly in on a dual engine, 12-person plane carrying all of my clothing, field equipment and food for three weeks. The main focus of my project in to assist three community experts in a classification system of local tropic plant life, while incorporating traditional uses and significance to the community. This is one part of a multifaceted attempt to bolster ecotourism in the community as a means of income rather than allowing the oil companies to rape the land and pay off the locals. Turns out I will be creating a website, which may be difficult due to the isolation and therefore limited internet access. At night I will also be giving informal english classes. I forgot to mention that Spanish not only my second language, but the community's as well, most men speak spanish and a few women do, but the primary language is Quichua, a local dialect of Quechua. It should be an adventure. If I am not back in Quito by the 28th, it means the airstrip in Sarayaku is flooded and I won't be out for a couple of days.
Second, Dylan and I attempted to summit Cotopaxi this weekend. We left Quito on Friday as early as possible to become acclimated. Quito is about 2800 meter above sea level, we where driven 2 hours to Cotopaxi National Park (4300 meters) and then had to climb to base camp at 4800 meters with all of our gear and food for the weekend. The climb took us up the base of the volcano. Because of the volcanos geology, the soil was very loose and made climbing very difficult. By the way, Cotopaxi's base camp, El Refugio, is at 4800 meter, that's 16,000 feet, just about higher than anywhere in the lower United States and the summit of Cotopaxi, 5900 meters (roughly 20000 feet) is one of the highest points on Earth. Higher than anywhere in the United States and even “higher” than the summit of Mount Everest, in the sense that you are farther from the center of the earth and closer to the sun and stars. This is due to the odd Equatorial bulge which circles the planet. The summit of Cotopaxi is only out reached by Chimborozo, another Equadorian volcano and another Mountain in Argentina, Anaconaqua.
A side note for my mother- Cotopaxi is a relatively easy climb. The is no danger when you are with a guide and there no actual “climbing.” You do need crampons and an ice ax for the walk up the glacier, but the climb is extremely safe. Fransico, our guide climbs Cotopaxi roughly 40 times a year and has been doing so for the last 20 years. That's at least 800 ascents.
Needless to say it was the highest either Dylan or I had ever been. We got to El refugio around 6pm and ate a light dinner and went to bed. Our guide, Fransico, woke us up at midnight to start the climb. Dylan was not feeling well because of the altitude and the cold. 100 meters into the climb and Dylan decided to turn back. The trail is very clearly marked and we were still less than 30 minutes into the climb so our guide gave him the go ahead. Fransico and I climbed alone, until we reached the snowline of Cotopaxi. Here we strapped on our crampons and walked with the assistance of our axes. After another hour and a half of lung burning climbing, we were at 5300 meters and looked backed down the mountain only to see a headlamp in the distance, wandering back and forth, 500 meters below. It could only be Dylan, we were the last group to leave and there wouldn't be anyone else at El Refugio until morning. We sat and watched. Now we had to decide: climb for another 2 ½ to 3 hours and summit around 6:30 in the morning or descend now, arrive at base camp in an hour and see if Dylan was lost. We concluded that Dylan's safety was worth more than a summit and started a rapid descent to see if he was okay. As I said, Cotopaxi is extremely safe with a guide and on the trail (they have a perfect safety record). However, without a guide or off the trail, it can be dangerous. From 5300 meters, we could see Dylan's lamp walking away from the Refugio. The refugio is lit from 6-9pm every night, so at 3 in the morning it looks just like another odd rock formation.
Turns out Dylan had lost the trail and was with out a guide. By the time we finally descended it was 4:30 am. We arrived at Base Camp as Dylan walked into view. He had lost the trail and tried to over correct himself. The good news: besides slight altitude sickness (probably onset by 3 years of smoking) Dylan was fine and spend the rest of his time throwing up what little he had in his stomach. The bad news: in two weekends, I failed to summit two mountains due to a companion being sick. During our stay at Base Camp and during the ascent, I had not shown one symptom of being affected by the altitude. My stomach was strong and I had an appetite (the first symptom of altitude problems is no appetite and usually throwing up) and I wasn't the slightest bit dizzy, lightheaded and had no headache. This means that my body was using the little oxygen in the air efficiently. During the climb I was tired, but I have no doubt that the summit was within reach. When we turned back at 5300 meters, we had just finished the most difficult part of the ascent: a series of ice switchbacks that take about an hour to traverse in which you only gain about 100 vertical meters. We were 600 vertical meters from the top and about 2 ½ to 3 hours away. From where we were, you could see the summit very clearly if you turned off your headlamp and you could also see the relatively easy climb ahead (minus the last 100 meter, said to be the hardest, mentally, due to the extremely thin air, 6 hours of climbing, with little to no food, and about 3 hours of sleep. I guess I will have to wait to experience the summit. Maybe when the program is finished and I have a free 2 day block. Still 5300 meters puts me higher than anywhere in the lower US. Next time I will summit, sin duda.
My advice: don't climb mountains with people who smoke.
And finally the big thing on everyone's mind is happening this Tuesday: Las Galapagos. We leave 6am from Quito international for Guayaquil (the air is so thin in Quito that a plane is too heavy if it is fully gassed up and therefore needs to flight to a close, lower city to fully fuel up. (Also this causes planes to have to land very fast in Quito, they accelerate rather than maintain or slow down for their landing, this put the facts that Quito International is in the heart of Quito and is one of the world's shortest runways makes landing and taking off from Quito nothing but horrifying) From Guayaquil we fly to Las (not Los) Galapagos where our group is divided in half: half live with a family for 3 days and half tour the islands for 3 days by yacht, then we switch. We are REQUIRED to snorkel every day and be swimming with hammer heads, green sea turtles, Galapagos penguins, manta rays, Galapagos iguanas, millions of fish, sea lions, dolphins and who knows what else. We return on the 28th and I will try to have pictures ready for the internet.
As with our entry to the Cloud Forest, The Amazon and Quito, we have already begun learning about all of the terrible things ecologically speaking about the Galapagos and things we shouldn't buy. A quick summary: Cloud Forest: don't waste electronics or buy mitsubishi, don't buy non fair trade coffee, bananas, or cacao. Quito: never buy roses, ever. Amazon: reduce oil use, don't buy mahogany wood, recycle every paper product and when you do buy paper or wood, make sure it comes from a certified forest. Here's what we have so far from the Galapagos: don't buy shrimp (also, turns out that they are the dirtiest animal you can eat), sharks are good and not to be eaten and don't visit the Galapagos without giving something back, tourism is destroying one of the most important conservation hotspots in the world. I promise I am not this preachy in real life.
One last thing: I have finally begun to understand the rhythm of my family. Every Sunday we have nasty Ecuadorianized-Americanized-Chinese food (it is about as far from authentic as you can get) along with grape and banana ice cream, while Chinese techno plays in the background. It is the only meal we eat in the dining room and my family always has a different guest. Then after we are done eating they tell dirty jokes and then explain them to me. Talk about culture shock. Also, my family has watched the movie Ice Age 3, 4 times in the last 4 days.
Finally, two months from tomorrow I will be in the United States. In the words of the late Ecuadorian artist Ozwaldo Guayasmin:
Siempre me voy a regresar. Mantengan encendida la luz.
Its been almost a week back in Quito, with nothing major to report. My family and I are starting to finally understand each other (although this morning there was some confusion over what type of eggs I wanted and I ended up with poached eggs rather than hard boiled) My bother invited me to a terrace party for one of his friends on Friday night and my other brother likes to show off his guitar talents, so whenever I am doing homework around the house, there he is rocking away. Last week we only had two days of classes, due to a trip to an organic farm and a late arrival from the Oriente. This weekend seven of us told the teleferico, a cable car which ascends to about 4100 meters up the face of Quito's closest volcano, Pichincha. This is known as a “base camp” for those who are trying to summit the peak. Base camp is approximately half way between Quito and Pichincha's summit. Being a mile higher than we were used to made the ascent very difficult. According to our mountaineering guide, a fit, relatively acclimated climber can make the ascent in 3 hours.
A note for my mother, who is very anti-mountaineering, there is no technical element to this climb, meaning there at no time the need for axes, crampons, front pointing, or any type of roping or harnessing. It is as safe as a walk in the park. The trails are well marked and there is a medical staff on call.
That being said, about 2 hours into the climb there is fork in the trail, one way leads to the quicker, Pasa del muerte and the other the ruta del Pichincha. We elected the latter. The climb was not technical but strenuous and when we were about 30 minutes from the summit when a friend said she was having trouble seeing and felt light headed. She sat down for a moment and when she stood back up she collapsed and started shaking. My friend Elliot and I are both trained to treat these kind of situations, we treated her for shock and gave her a chocolate bar to help raise her blood sugar. We then covered her with all of the clothing that we could spare, elevated her legs and helped her drink some water. In about 20 minutes she had recovered and told us that this had happened twice before and was probably a combination of the thin air and small breakfast. We decided that this was a sign for us to turn back. By the time we touched down we all had sun burn lines from our sunglasses and hats and also had burned more calories than any previous day here in Quito. So we hopped on a bus for the local pancake house and ate our weigh in pancakes. Despues, we congregated at Andy's house to watch Ecuador take on Uruguay in a World Cup qualifier. In the last 30 seconds, Uruguay scored and pulled ahead, 2-1. The game ended and I'm surprised that there wasn't rioting in the streets. After the game I collapsed in bed and slept for 13 hours.
We have another week in Quito, then a week from Tuesday we fly to the Galapagos for a week. This is what everyone has been waiting for. The only thing that separates us is the busiest week yet of the program. Our grant proposals, Field investigation reports and Field Journals are all due this week.
We also have to commit to own Independent Study Projects before we leave for the Galapagos. I was considering a project in Puerto Lopez, working with children an elementary school, assisting a teacher for a month, but there was another person who had their heart set on the same project, so I pulled out. Now, half due to my choice and half due to Sylvia's forcefulness, I am 90% sure that I will be living in the Amazon for 4 weeks with an indigenous tribe, I will have to bring all the food I can and can only fly in by a dual engine-12 person plane on days when it is not raining. While there I will be working with community leaders on an ecotourism project as well as offer free english lessons during the evening. Still not committed, but it may look as if I have no choice.
On a final note, I apologize to my family and friends, who I have not been in contact with recently. It's hard to get to an international phone and also to an internet cafe. Both of which depend on my family, who at times doesn't have time to make the drive. I'll be calling this week, I owe the folks at Carleton another call, same goes for Hannah and my fam.
One last story, I left my house on Friday night to meet some friends. When I left, my parents and two family friends were playing cards, as they do every Friday and Saturday night. When I got back at 1:30aam they were still playing and after we talked for a bit, we both realized that neither of us had eaten dinner. So naturally we all made dinner and ate as a family at 230am. It was a little strange.
14-OCT-09
Not much report of late. Ecuador was bumped out of the World Cup Preliminaries, we leave for Las Galapagos next Tuesday and return the following Tuesday. Our spanish class has taken a turn for the better, we have stopped reviewing grammar and now simply speak about important Ecuadorian themes. Every night we have to go home and talk with our homestay family about 21th century socialism in Latin America, Ecuadorian poverty, surmounting climate change and environmental destruction. Because of this, my Spanish has improved more in the last 6 weeks than in all of the previous 6 years of formal classes.
Also, today I had a bad case of homesickness. The language, the stress, the culture shock all hit hard. I only tell this to you all so that you all know that, despite the adventure, I miss you all and am thinking of you. Especially my family (except for Carly). And mom, I have not forgotten your birthday and will try to find a working international phone tomorrow or the following day. I love and miss you all.
Oct 18, 2009
Again, sorry for the tardiness of my posts (if anyone still bothers to read)
Warning: Social Commentary/Ranting, skip to next paragraph if you don't care.
The longer we stay in Quito, the more apparent all of the isms our directors told us about become apparent. This city is filled with racism, classicism, sexism and homophobia. The racism is terrible towards anyone from anywhere in Asia, Colombia or the coast of Ecuador (people from the coast are known as 'monos' or monkeys) but by far the most hated group by the mestizo population is the indigenous population. As usual, the natives in here in Ecuador share the same, sad history of exploitation and discrimination. They have been subject to the three C's (colonization, Christianization, and civilization) since the first Spaniards arrived. Their land has been parceled of. In fact when the first Westerners arrived, one of the arguments used to justify the terrible treatment of the natives was that they were not the same race as Europeans because they had no sense of private property. This justified slavery and extermination because they were not human, but animals. On the flip side, with respect to land ownership, the various indigenous tribes did not believe you could own something that you depended on for survival. Anyways, the natives to Ecuador and all of South America have a long, sad history of mistreatment. In the past it was conquistadors today it is the oil companies. (except for a few remote tribes who have literally speared so many oil representatives that they are left alone) In the West's “civilization” of the indigenous population, which finally had reached the majority of native tribes by 1980, tens of thousands of natives had no choice but to be integrated into the western society. Because of this you will never see a mestizo begging on the street, only an indigenous individual. Now, they are the peddlers, the beggars, the poor. They are the ones no one will hire. The ones who make less than a dollar a day. Ecuador is a very machismo society: if a young man is sitting on the bus and an old mestizo lady walks on, he will give up his seat without thinking, but no one stands up for indian (a PC term in Ecuador). It was this treatment of the natives which helped lead Ernesto 'Che' Guevara to become a revolutionist in Argentina. (watch the movie, 'motorcycle diaries' to see what I mean) Anyways, everyday I find myself thinking more and more on the same thought: All that separates me from the young indigenous beggar boy on the corner is the circumstances we were born into. We are both humans, its just that I am a rich gringo with a home and my own car and he has nothing and is hated by some of his fellow countrymen and women. Out of all the places and situations that I could have been born into, I got mine and he got his. Neither of us had a choice, it just happened to us. But other than where we were born, nothing else makes us different from a biological perspective, then why are our lives so opposite? To borrow from the ideas of Che- How can we be divided, when there is so much that unites us?
Two big events happen this week and one happens this tuesday:
First, I have officially committed to live with the indigenous tribe Sarayaku for three weeks, starting November 7th until my birthday on the 28th. As I said before, I fly in on a dual engine, 12-person plane carrying all of my clothing, field equipment and food for three weeks. The main focus of my project in to assist three community experts in a classification system of local tropic plant life, while incorporating traditional uses and significance to the community. This is one part of a multifaceted attempt to bolster ecotourism in the community as a means of income rather than allowing the oil companies to rape the land and pay off the locals. Turns out I will be creating a website, which may be difficult due to the isolation and therefore limited internet access. At night I will also be giving informal english classes. I forgot to mention that Spanish not only my second language, but the community's as well, most men speak spanish and a few women do, but the primary language is Quichua, a local dialect of Quechua. It should be an adventure. If I am not back in Quito by the 28th, it means the airstrip in Sarayaku is flooded and I won't be out for a couple of days.
Second, Dylan and I attempted to summit Cotopaxi this weekend. We left Quito on Friday as early as possible to become acclimated. Quito is about 2800 meter above sea level, we where driven 2 hours to Cotopaxi National Park (4300 meters) and then had to climb to base camp at 4800 meters with all of our gear and food for the weekend. The climb took us up the base of the volcano. Because of the volcanos geology, the soil was very loose and made climbing very difficult. By the way, Cotopaxi's base camp, El Refugio, is at 4800 meter, that's 16,000 feet, just about higher than anywhere in the lower United States and the summit of Cotopaxi, 5900 meters (roughly 20000 feet) is one of the highest points on Earth. Higher than anywhere in the United States and even “higher” than the summit of Mount Everest, in the sense that you are farther from the center of the earth and closer to the sun and stars. This is due to the odd Equatorial bulge which circles the planet. The summit of Cotopaxi is only out reached by Chimborozo, another Equadorian volcano and another Mountain in Argentina, Anaconaqua.
A side note for my mother- Cotopaxi is a relatively easy climb. The is no danger when you are with a guide and there no actual “climbing.” You do need crampons and an ice ax for the walk up the glacier, but the climb is extremely safe. Fransico, our guide climbs Cotopaxi roughly 40 times a year and has been doing so for the last 20 years. That's at least 800 ascents.
Needless to say it was the highest either Dylan or I had ever been. We got to El refugio around 6pm and ate a light dinner and went to bed. Our guide, Fransico, woke us up at midnight to start the climb. Dylan was not feeling well because of the altitude and the cold. 100 meters into the climb and Dylan decided to turn back. The trail is very clearly marked and we were still less than 30 minutes into the climb so our guide gave him the go ahead. Fransico and I climbed alone, until we reached the snowline of Cotopaxi. Here we strapped on our crampons and walked with the assistance of our axes. After another hour and a half of lung burning climbing, we were at 5300 meters and looked backed down the mountain only to see a headlamp in the distance, wandering back and forth, 500 meters below. It could only be Dylan, we were the last group to leave and there wouldn't be anyone else at El Refugio until morning. We sat and watched. Now we had to decide: climb for another 2 ½ to 3 hours and summit around 6:30 in the morning or descend now, arrive at base camp in an hour and see if Dylan was lost. We concluded that Dylan's safety was worth more than a summit and started a rapid descent to see if he was okay. As I said, Cotopaxi is extremely safe with a guide and on the trail (they have a perfect safety record). However, without a guide or off the trail, it can be dangerous. From 5300 meters, we could see Dylan's lamp walking away from the Refugio. The refugio is lit from 6-9pm every night, so at 3 in the morning it looks just like another odd rock formation.
Turns out Dylan had lost the trail and was with out a guide. By the time we finally descended it was 4:30 am. We arrived at Base Camp as Dylan walked into view. He had lost the trail and tried to over correct himself. The good news: besides slight altitude sickness (probably onset by 3 years of smoking) Dylan was fine and spend the rest of his time throwing up what little he had in his stomach. The bad news: in two weekends, I failed to summit two mountains due to a companion being sick. During our stay at Base Camp and during the ascent, I had not shown one symptom of being affected by the altitude. My stomach was strong and I had an appetite (the first symptom of altitude problems is no appetite and usually throwing up) and I wasn't the slightest bit dizzy, lightheaded and had no headache. This means that my body was using the little oxygen in the air efficiently. During the climb I was tired, but I have no doubt that the summit was within reach. When we turned back at 5300 meters, we had just finished the most difficult part of the ascent: a series of ice switchbacks that take about an hour to traverse in which you only gain about 100 vertical meters. We were 600 vertical meters from the top and about 2 ½ to 3 hours away. From where we were, you could see the summit very clearly if you turned off your headlamp and you could also see the relatively easy climb ahead (minus the last 100 meter, said to be the hardest, mentally, due to the extremely thin air, 6 hours of climbing, with little to no food, and about 3 hours of sleep. I guess I will have to wait to experience the summit. Maybe when the program is finished and I have a free 2 day block. Still 5300 meters puts me higher than anywhere in the lower US. Next time I will summit, sin duda.
My advice: don't climb mountains with people who smoke.
And finally the big thing on everyone's mind is happening this Tuesday: Las Galapagos. We leave 6am from Quito international for Guayaquil (the air is so thin in Quito that a plane is too heavy if it is fully gassed up and therefore needs to flight to a close, lower city to fully fuel up. (Also this causes planes to have to land very fast in Quito, they accelerate rather than maintain or slow down for their landing, this put the facts that Quito International is in the heart of Quito and is one of the world's shortest runways makes landing and taking off from Quito nothing but horrifying) From Guayaquil we fly to Las (not Los) Galapagos where our group is divided in half: half live with a family for 3 days and half tour the islands for 3 days by yacht, then we switch. We are REQUIRED to snorkel every day and be swimming with hammer heads, green sea turtles, Galapagos penguins, manta rays, Galapagos iguanas, millions of fish, sea lions, dolphins and who knows what else. We return on the 28th and I will try to have pictures ready for the internet.
As with our entry to the Cloud Forest, The Amazon and Quito, we have already begun learning about all of the terrible things ecologically speaking about the Galapagos and things we shouldn't buy. A quick summary: Cloud Forest: don't waste electronics or buy mitsubishi, don't buy non fair trade coffee, bananas, or cacao. Quito: never buy roses, ever. Amazon: reduce oil use, don't buy mahogany wood, recycle every paper product and when you do buy paper or wood, make sure it comes from a certified forest. Here's what we have so far from the Galapagos: don't buy shrimp (also, turns out that they are the dirtiest animal you can eat), sharks are good and not to be eaten and don't visit the Galapagos without giving something back, tourism is destroying one of the most important conservation hotspots in the world. I promise I am not this preachy in real life.
One last thing: I have finally begun to understand the rhythm of my family. Every Sunday we have nasty Ecuadorianized-Americanized-Chinese food (it is about as far from authentic as you can get) along with grape and banana ice cream, while Chinese techno plays in the background. It is the only meal we eat in the dining room and my family always has a different guest. Then after we are done eating they tell dirty jokes and then explain them to me. Talk about culture shock. Also, my family has watched the movie Ice Age 3, 4 times in the last 4 days.
Finally, two months from tomorrow I will be in the United States. In the words of the late Ecuadorian artist Ozwaldo Guayasmin:
Siempre me voy a regresar. Mantengan encendida la luz.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Lots to say
(Forgive the excessively long entry; it represents 10 days of pure adventure. I'll try to keep it short)
Mijo (9/24/09)
Today we had two important developments: First my sister referred to me as her brother and second, my father called me 'mijo' which is short for 'mi hijo' (my son). The profs say that when you are called mijo or mijo, you're in with the family. My sister and I also scored free tickets to watch La Liga take on La Luz. La Liga won, 4-0. Tomorrow is the last day of classes before the Amazon.
Hoy habia dos desarrollos importantes: Primero, mi hermana me referio como su hermano y segundo, my padre me llamo, 'mijo' que es corto por 'mi hijo' (my son). Mis profes dicen que cuando alguien se llama mijo o mijo, estas un parte de la familia. Tambien, mi hermana y yo ganamos billetes libres para mirar el partido La Liga contra La Luz. La Liga gano cuarto, cero. Manana es el dia ultima de los clases antes de bajamos por el Oriente.
A leap of faith (9/24/09)
This weekend, Dylan, Samantha, Miriam and I all took the 5 hour bus ride to Los Banos, a beautifully preserved town and surrounding primary forest. Los Banos is also Ecuador's extreme sports capital. I didn't really know what I was getting into when I said I would go, but from start to finish, it was an adventure. After we got off the bus, the first thing we did was find a place to sleep. Before we had taken 3 steps, a crazy lady told us that she had an empty hostel that only cost 5 dollars a night. For some reason this seemed like a good idea to us and we followed her back to her hostel. This 'hostel' had about 80 percent of its roof left and we were literally the only people in the entire building. But it was late, we were tired and we couldn't beat the price. Turns out the lady wasn't crazy, just overzealous and the holes in the roof weren't all that bad. Anyway, our first night we payed 3 bucks to hop in the back of a pickup truck and be driven up to the top of the town's volcano, Tungurhua, to watch a show and capture a view of the town from above. The ride alone was worth the money, and the view from the top sealed the deal. At the top we watched an impressive fire juggling/acrobatic show. Sam had flaming clubs juggled around her face and Dylan had to hold a cigarette in his mouth while the performers tried to light it by throwing flaming clubs back and forth. Turns out the performers were brothers and also fairly famous in Banos. As we were leaving, Sam asked if they wanted to drive down with us, only one of the brothers could, but we talked with him for the majority of the descent in the back of a pickup. Once back in the city, he took us to his favorite club and we were treated like VIPs because of him. We were given free food and drinks and allowed into any club we wanted without cover. But after along day of traveling, we called it an early night. It was a rough night, we didn't really have blankets or pillows- 10 years ago what we had would have been called pillows and blankets- needless to say it was a cold night.
In the morning we woke up to find out that the lady who had coaxed us into her hostel with the promise of a complementary breakfast, had no intention of making us any food. We just kept telling ourselves that we were paying half of what every other hostel charged and notched our belts a little tighter. After what should have been breakfast we did want Banos is best known for: whitewater rafting. We drove 45 minutes upstream and rafted Class III and Class III+ rapids for about 3 hours. Before we could start rafting we had to jump off a 15 meter(45 feet) high bridge into the river. At first I though the guide were joking, but when the both jumped, Dylan and I were flying through the air not long after. The fall took longer than I thought and the landing hurt a lot more than I expected. In fact all of my butt and hamstrings are sore and slightly bruised 2 days after. The actual rafting was exciting, but the real adrenaline didn't come until later that afternoon.
As we were all leaving to hike the surrounding forest, we had to cross the only bridge out of town. As we were walking we saw that a group of people we knew were congregated the the middle of the bridge. When we saw them, we knew exactly what they were doing: Bungee Jumping. We had read about bridge jumping the night before and had laughed at the idea, but as the day had progressed, the jokes became more serious and by the time we had returned from rafting, Dylan and I were ready to do it the following morning. But as we were walking across the bridge and saw a few jumps, we decided to just do it then and there. There were two companies that offering jumps, one cost 10 dollars and the other 12, we figured the extra two dollars couldn't hurt. We were all still a little concerned that we only had to pay 12 dollars to jump, but the equipment was new, the workers were professional and the city has a perfect record of jumpers without problems. Here's how it works: its not exactly bungee jumping, its called puenting, or in English, bridging. You are strapped into a full body climbing harness which supports your legs and arms and are clipped in above the belly button. Once suited up, you must climb over the bridge's guard rail and stand on a metal diving board. This board is made of recycled metal from an old giant shipping crate (the ones you always see on giant barges in the ocean). So it was ribbed and uneven. From the diving board you get a tres, dos, uno, salta! And you jump. The goal is to jump as far from the bridge as possible, this is is what makes bridging a subset within the overall theme of bungee jumping. The goal is not to jump straight down, it is to jump out so that your body is parallel with the bridge, from here there is only one place to go: down. And down you go. For no more than a few seconds you free fall, unassisted, slowly becoming more vertical, with your head below your feet. The the primary bungee cord with the help of a secondary cord do their work. As you are falling, you flip over so that you swing under the bridge, first falling vertical(head below feet) then becoming horizontal so that you are looking up at the underside of the bridge, and finally your inertia carries you so that you are once again vertical (head over feet) on the opposite side of the bridge, looking at the people you just jumped away from. From there you swing and bounce until they lower you down to the bottom of the gorge.
Here's what happened for me:
Dylan and I flipped a coin to see who would go first. The sacagewaya (no sure on the spelling) came up heads meaning Dylan would jump first. There was also an offer to anyone who jumped naked would not have to pay. Dylan got pretty close, he took of his sweatshirt, shirt, shoes and socks so that he was only in athletic shorts and got suited up. I was afraid of harness burns so I opted to stay dressed. As Dylan and I were suiting up, several things happened at once: 1. a light tropical rain started. 2. the sun peaked out from the cloud, just above the horizon and 3 a car full of gringos pulled up and provided music. The result: one of the most surreal experiences of my life. The sun and the rain produced one of the clearest rainbows I have ever seen, which spanned either side of the gorge, only because we were on a 500 foot high bridge, our field of vision was doubled in the sense that we could see down, as well as into the sky, and because the rain was falling throughout the gorge, a perfect circle rainbow was formed, making a bull's eye in the sky for us to aim at as we jumped. That beautifully coincidence, along with the mellow, lighter-waving classic rock coming from the car made an extremely surreal surrounding. As I said, Dylan jumped first. The last thing we said before he left was, “jump to the rainbow” and he did, another successful jump in Banos. As I waited for the line to be pulled back up, I was getting nervous; before I knew I was strapped in and had climbed over the guard rail on the the one square foot, diving board. From the board there is usually a 5 second preptalk from the jump master and a 3 second countdown. For me however, I had to wait almost a minute starring down into the river, hundreds of feet below. Finally they gave me the countdown and I heard “Salta.” The one piece of advice the other gringos had told me was to keep my eyes open and I did. I saw the world open up underneath me for a fraction of a second before I fell. Then, before long, I was falling head first, the on my back, then looking eye to eye with my friends on the bridge. Then as I swung back for the first time, my stomach fell into my feet and after a few swings, I was lowered the rest of the way to the ground. Dylan had waited for me and was shaking with adrenaline, me knees wouldn't hold me when I landed (I landed in a cactus, by the way), so I sat down beside him and waited to see if Sam was going to jump. The second she started screaming, Dylan and I jumped up and screamed back. I have never heard anyone swear louder or more creatively that Sam Kessler as she fell from the San Fransico bridge in Los Banos. I couldn't believe she had done it. When she landed, she couldn't walk or stop smiling and neither could we. We waited while our legs regained their strength, and started the long walk back up the gorge. It was the greatest adrenaline rush I have ever experienced and a high that I did not come down from for hours.
When I was a kid, my mom would ask me, “If so-and-so were to jump of a bridge, who you do it too?”
Now I have an answer.
Into the Wild (10/5/09)
For the last 8 days I lived at the Tiputini Biodiversity Research Station, located in the heart of the Ecuadorian Amazon. We had to ship in all of our food, electricity and supplies for the duration. The station is managed by the University of Quito and only allows researchers and students to visit. Bueno, from the second my father dropped me off at the airport until I haled a taxi for the ride home it was an adventure. Just getting there is an adventure in itself. It took us around 10 hours to travel no more than 400 kilometers. To start we flew out of Quito in a small commercial jet to Coca, a 25 minute flight. As we flew, we passed UNDER the peaks of Cotopaxi, Antisana y Cayambe. Once in Coca, we travelled down the Napo river (a major tributary to the Amazon) by motorized canoe for 2 hours to a Repsol check point. (Repsol is the Exxon Mobil of Spain and is raping the Amazon in Ecuador. We had to jump through several hoops for the oilmen, who have absolute jurisdiction over there territory, even more so than the Ecuadorian government). Once through the check point we traveled by chivo (a cross over between a bus and a landrover) for another 30 kilometers through Repsol territory until we came to the Tiputini river, where we disembarked and boarded a smaller canoe, which carried us down until our research station. Just as the station came into sight, the driver landed the canoe along the bank of the river and told us to watch the water. Not 30 seconds later, a 3 meter Cayman (a relative of the crocodile and alligator) crawled from the bank into the river no more than 100 meters from our dock. Once we landed, the first thing the guides told us is that the rivers are excellent for swimming and assured us that it was 100% safe.
After we unloaded, we took the guides advice and jumped into the Amazon for a swim. Besides cayman, the Amazon river also is home to electric eels, sting rays, piranhas, 5 meter anacondas and of course the imfamous canduris (small, spined fish that have been known to swim up your urethra if you pee in the river). Also, the Tipuniti River is a whitewater river, which means that it is high in sediment and has a coffee mixed with milk look, making water visibility less than 10 centimeters. But nearly all 22 of us swam for 15 minutes without a problem. Then Dylan told everyone to get out and fast. As we all scrambled onto the boat, we looked to where he had seen something moving. We watched and before long, we all saw it, but it wasn't something that wanted to eat us, quite the opposite, it was a freshwater, amazon river dolphin and her calf, playing in the river, wanting to play near us. For those who have never seen or heard of Amazonian dolphins, what makes them special is first, they are endangered and rare in Ecuador and second, they have pink skin. So there we were, swimming with the pink, endangered river dolphin and her calf as the sun set over the Amazon. I will never forget it. Needless to say, we swam in the Amazon everyday, often more than once and usually to bathe with bio-friendly soaps.
Swimming was a necessary daily event due to the 90+ percent (no exaggeration) humidity everyday. Nothing would dry, ever. Our towels from our first swim were still wet 7 days later when we packed them up to leave. Your hair never dries. When you sweat, you shirt, pants and socks stay wet, forever. Hanging clothes to dry is useless and a waist of time. Needless to say, we were a smelly group, I felt bad for the people we flew home with us. The only thing that made the humidity worse, were the tropical rainstorms. And let me tell you; you have never experienced a true rainstorm until you get dumped on in the amazon. Despite the 90% canopy cover, you are drenched in a matter or minutes. Rain jackets help,but there is no avoiding the rain. However, the rain in the Amazon is usually warm and it is absolutely beautiful. Everything in the Amazon is beautiful, but it is something special when it rains.
Ok, before I go any further, there are some Rainforest essential facts and concepts that need to be explained. First: black, rubber, knee high rain boots are essential and must be worn at all times. This is because the floor of the amazon is nothing but mud. You also should where them in case you come across a fur-de-lance, so that if you are bitten, you chance of survival goes from about 20% to 70%. Second, when you are bushwacking, or romping through the forest, you never touch any trunk or vine than you don't need to. This is for two reasons, first, almost all plants have both physical and chemical defenses and second: Bullet ants. The bite of a bullet ant was described to us as the single most painful experience one can endure. (this came from someone who had given birth twice). Sylvia said it is like a knife twisting in your nerves and it hurts so bad that you will often throw up.
For the first 4 days we would wake up with the forest around 530 and leave in groups of 5 with a different guide. Each guide would take us to a different part of the forest. In total, there were 4 guides, so we had four morning adventures. Day 1 we were lead on a morning hike through the jungle without trails to learn about medicinal plants of the indigenous people. We also ate lemon ants for a pre-breakfast snack. The ants taste exactly like lemonade and bite your tongue as you chew. The next day we climbed 40 meters (130 feet) into the canopy to the bridge network between several giant ceiba tree (the mothers of the rainforest). We watched the sunrise over a misty rainforest and saw five or six species of toucans, scarlet macaws and literally hundreds of other birds of paradise. The following morning we took the canoe upstream and saw the endangered tapirs (kind of an ugly cross between a hippo and an anteater). Once we turned around, the guides killed the motors and we all floated back downstream to the station. On the fourth morning we climbed almost 50 meters into the canopy to an observation tower to further observe birds and monkeys from the peak of the canopy. During these days we usually had half of our time in the lab, learning ecology methods or background ecology and half of the time in the field testing our new methods. We would return for lunch at noon, have an hour of free time to swim, field work at 2 until 6, dinner at 7, a night activity or lecture until 10. Then we would crash. I don't know if it was the high oxygen concentration, over exhaustion or my malaria pills, but I have never slept better than in the Oriente. After the first four days of early morning adventures, we were allowed to sleep in until 6am. On the fourth day, during lecture, we had a monkey chasing crash course so that on the next day we could break up into pairs and collect data on some of the various species that fill the reserve. They also wanted these pairs to go to specific trails and at specific times, so that the data could be cross referenced with other groups. We were placed in groups according to how “rough” we wanted our trail to be. My partner and I were given the farthest and most isolated trail in the network. This trail, Harpia, is the least traveled and maintained, por eso, we had several hours of bushwhacking, map/compass reading and absolutely zero monkey sitings. But not all was lost, we walked, slide, crawled and climbed through some of the most beautiful forest I have ever walked in. This land has almost never been touch my man and reminded me of what it would have been like to be alive during the time of the dinosaurs. It was strange that Kara and I didn't see a single monkey because generally it is hard to go 100 meters without hearing a howler, spider, wooly, titi or saki monkey. Day 6 and 7 were filled primarily with Small group projects and exploration. But the best day was day 7, a full day hike in groups of 4 with one of the guides or monkey researchers. I choose to follow a guide around because monkeys aren't my thing and I did not regret it. My group was lucky, our guide was Don Mayor, a local man with Quicha roots, who had lived in the rainforest for nearly 60 years. He looks very similar to the Dali lama and has the heart to make it. He took us downstream where we jumped off the boat and climbed up the banks of the amazon to our trailhead. Sylvia had warned us not to outpace Don Mayor because he was getting older and she was concerned we would be overzealous with out pace. Turns out, Don Mayor spent most of his time waiting for us. We left at 6 am with breakfast and lunch in our backpacks and did not return until after 330 in the afternoon. The majority of our day was spend following the don around as he made monkey calls, bird calls and cut a trail (along he is only 5' 2”, so I had to still duck to fit through the trail he had made) for us to follow. All while pointing out things that we all would have missed. A rare mushroom here, a beautiful orchid there. He then stopped to make us all bracelets out of the fiber of low growing palm. I mentioned that the ceiba trees are said to be the mothers of the rainforest because the can live to be 1000 years old and are simply massive. They can easily rise 60 meters off of the ground and use buttress roots that spread for dozens of meters. Anyways, according to the Quicha indians, the spirits of the forest live in these trees. During our lunch break, Don Major, told us some of the local and surprisingly recent beliefs about these spirits. Except, these stories weren't stories to the don, they were histories of people and places he knew. He made it very clear that he believed in these spirits and that they have directly interacted with his father, a family friend and his dog. I won't go into the details of all three stories here to save you readers some time, but the next time you have a free hour and see me, I'll do them justice. In case I forget there is one about 2 spirits kidnapping a boy, one about his father's friend and boy who cures his mother of disease and one about the don's dog, a spirit circle and the resulting death of the dog. They all are extremely captivating and worth your time. Remind me.
We listened to other stories too. Like how the don cut an anaconda in half with a machete and a living frog hopped out of the severed snake. Other stories like this. As we were making our way back to the stations (still about 2 kilometers out) The don stops walking and turns on his heel and darts into the jungle. We follow and three incredible animal sighting all occurred in less that 20 minutes. First, nocturnal monkeys were clearly visible in a hollowed out truck (the don was more excited about this than we were). But then as we moved on, the don here the buho de anteojos (spectacled owl) singing. According to the don, they never sing; according to him, he had never heard it before. As we were looking at the owl it's mate perched right next to it and started hooing too. We were so concentrated on what was in the branches we forgot to look down, but when we did, not 2 meters from us was the pair's baby. That's right a baby spectacled owl had fallen out of it's nest and was calling for it's parents. The parents were afraid to descend due to the Saki monkey harassing the owlet. In steps Don Major to save the day. He scared the monkey away and gently lifted the owl into some nearby branches. With the monkey out of sight, the only thing on the owls' minds were the humans messing with their baby, so we backed off and let the family be reunited. It was an incredible display of nature and literally as we were walking away Don Major nearly stepped on a non-venomous snake. Instead of running away from the snake, the don charges it and grabs it by the tail. This is no gardener snake, this fatboy is 2 and half meters long and as think as a grapefruit. The don dodged two strikes by the snake an as he went to grab it, it slipped his finger and slithered away. The rest of our trek ended without the previous level of excitement, but when we walked into camp, we were exhausted. But did we rest? No! We refilled our water bottles and set off at a good click for the famous ox-bow lake 2 and half kilometers away. We arrived 45 minutes later at the lake and found the reserve's small canoe. Thankfully there were only five of us, leaving about two inches of freeboard in the dugout. The actual lake was unlike any other body of water I have ever seen. The lake is no longer in the shape of an oxbow but is surrounded with and filled with this one species of tree, except this tree grows no where else in the surrounding amazon. It looks like a classic palm, but all of its branches and truck are filled with spines. The lake is filled with odd fish, cayman, turtles and bats (yes bats). As we were in the middle of the lake, a light, warm, tropical rain started to fall, but because it was late in the day, the sun was low so its rays passed under the rain cloud creating a sky that you would see on a Jehovah's Witness post card. Also, because there was no with or waves on the lake, you could see each individual raindrop bouncing on the water. It was incredible! We returned soaked, dirty, sweaty and hungry to camp were were collapsed.
One last cool fact, although Tiputini is only 700 hectares, at least 12 ocelots, 7 jaguars and 1 cougar all have been caught via camera traps throughout the park. It is said that each large cat need at least 1000 hectares to hunt successfully. These cats are fleeing the surrounding oil projects.
And finally, as with our cloud forest excursion, the 22 of us are now even closer: At night we would all gather by candle light (the power cuts out ever night at 930) and just talk. One of my closest friends here shared this piece of advice on how to live you life, I like it so much that I am now going to share it with you: If someone where to come up to you and offer you the opportunity to relive your life, from start to finish, exactly as it happened before, all the while, never being aware that you were reliving what had already happened, you should never have to think twice about doing it.
The ride home was relatively uneventful until our chivo was stopped by a local man in the road. He was demanding money and gasoline, neither of which we had. He was trying to get to Coca, rather than give him something for nothing, Sylvia purchased some of his wife's artisan crafts, so that they could pay the ferry. We rode with him for 30 minutes by bus, and 2 hours by canoe. After he literally jumped off of the canoe, and struggled ashore, Sylvia told us that he is the local crazy man and that he is also a convicted murderer. Once, according to Sylvia, he threatened a local Catholic charity foundation with a chainsaw, demanding mattresses and watermelon. So now everyone gives him what he wants and tries to stay out of his way.
Although, I will never forget the Amazon and hope to return again, it is nice to be in clean,dry clothes and have electricity. Also there are no jaguars, ocelots, pumas, bullet ants, anacondas, fur-de-lance, sting rays, cayman, electric eels, piranhas, malaria, yellow fever, bot flies, or caburis in Quito, which is nice. I have been battling a stomach virus for the last few days, but other than that, all is well
Mijo (9/24/09)
Today we had two important developments: First my sister referred to me as her brother and second, my father called me 'mijo' which is short for 'mi hijo' (my son). The profs say that when you are called mijo or mijo, you're in with the family. My sister and I also scored free tickets to watch La Liga take on La Luz. La Liga won, 4-0. Tomorrow is the last day of classes before the Amazon.
Hoy habia dos desarrollos importantes: Primero, mi hermana me referio como su hermano y segundo, my padre me llamo, 'mijo' que es corto por 'mi hijo' (my son). Mis profes dicen que cuando alguien se llama mijo o mijo, estas un parte de la familia. Tambien, mi hermana y yo ganamos billetes libres para mirar el partido La Liga contra La Luz. La Liga gano cuarto, cero. Manana es el dia ultima de los clases antes de bajamos por el Oriente.
A leap of faith (9/24/09)
This weekend, Dylan, Samantha, Miriam and I all took the 5 hour bus ride to Los Banos, a beautifully preserved town and surrounding primary forest. Los Banos is also Ecuador's extreme sports capital. I didn't really know what I was getting into when I said I would go, but from start to finish, it was an adventure. After we got off the bus, the first thing we did was find a place to sleep. Before we had taken 3 steps, a crazy lady told us that she had an empty hostel that only cost 5 dollars a night. For some reason this seemed like a good idea to us and we followed her back to her hostel. This 'hostel' had about 80 percent of its roof left and we were literally the only people in the entire building. But it was late, we were tired and we couldn't beat the price. Turns out the lady wasn't crazy, just overzealous and the holes in the roof weren't all that bad. Anyway, our first night we payed 3 bucks to hop in the back of a pickup truck and be driven up to the top of the town's volcano, Tungurhua, to watch a show and capture a view of the town from above. The ride alone was worth the money, and the view from the top sealed the deal. At the top we watched an impressive fire juggling/acrobatic show. Sam had flaming clubs juggled around her face and Dylan had to hold a cigarette in his mouth while the performers tried to light it by throwing flaming clubs back and forth. Turns out the performers were brothers and also fairly famous in Banos. As we were leaving, Sam asked if they wanted to drive down with us, only one of the brothers could, but we talked with him for the majority of the descent in the back of a pickup. Once back in the city, he took us to his favorite club and we were treated like VIPs because of him. We were given free food and drinks and allowed into any club we wanted without cover. But after along day of traveling, we called it an early night. It was a rough night, we didn't really have blankets or pillows- 10 years ago what we had would have been called pillows and blankets- needless to say it was a cold night.
In the morning we woke up to find out that the lady who had coaxed us into her hostel with the promise of a complementary breakfast, had no intention of making us any food. We just kept telling ourselves that we were paying half of what every other hostel charged and notched our belts a little tighter. After what should have been breakfast we did want Banos is best known for: whitewater rafting. We drove 45 minutes upstream and rafted Class III and Class III+ rapids for about 3 hours. Before we could start rafting we had to jump off a 15 meter(45 feet) high bridge into the river. At first I though the guide were joking, but when the both jumped, Dylan and I were flying through the air not long after. The fall took longer than I thought and the landing hurt a lot more than I expected. In fact all of my butt and hamstrings are sore and slightly bruised 2 days after. The actual rafting was exciting, but the real adrenaline didn't come until later that afternoon.
As we were all leaving to hike the surrounding forest, we had to cross the only bridge out of town. As we were walking we saw that a group of people we knew were congregated the the middle of the bridge. When we saw them, we knew exactly what they were doing: Bungee Jumping. We had read about bridge jumping the night before and had laughed at the idea, but as the day had progressed, the jokes became more serious and by the time we had returned from rafting, Dylan and I were ready to do it the following morning. But as we were walking across the bridge and saw a few jumps, we decided to just do it then and there. There were two companies that offering jumps, one cost 10 dollars and the other 12, we figured the extra two dollars couldn't hurt. We were all still a little concerned that we only had to pay 12 dollars to jump, but the equipment was new, the workers were professional and the city has a perfect record of jumpers without problems. Here's how it works: its not exactly bungee jumping, its called puenting, or in English, bridging. You are strapped into a full body climbing harness which supports your legs and arms and are clipped in above the belly button. Once suited up, you must climb over the bridge's guard rail and stand on a metal diving board. This board is made of recycled metal from an old giant shipping crate (the ones you always see on giant barges in the ocean). So it was ribbed and uneven. From the diving board you get a tres, dos, uno, salta! And you jump. The goal is to jump as far from the bridge as possible, this is is what makes bridging a subset within the overall theme of bungee jumping. The goal is not to jump straight down, it is to jump out so that your body is parallel with the bridge, from here there is only one place to go: down. And down you go. For no more than a few seconds you free fall, unassisted, slowly becoming more vertical, with your head below your feet. The the primary bungee cord with the help of a secondary cord do their work. As you are falling, you flip over so that you swing under the bridge, first falling vertical(head below feet) then becoming horizontal so that you are looking up at the underside of the bridge, and finally your inertia carries you so that you are once again vertical (head over feet) on the opposite side of the bridge, looking at the people you just jumped away from. From there you swing and bounce until they lower you down to the bottom of the gorge.
Here's what happened for me:
Dylan and I flipped a coin to see who would go first. The sacagewaya (no sure on the spelling) came up heads meaning Dylan would jump first. There was also an offer to anyone who jumped naked would not have to pay. Dylan got pretty close, he took of his sweatshirt, shirt, shoes and socks so that he was only in athletic shorts and got suited up. I was afraid of harness burns so I opted to stay dressed. As Dylan and I were suiting up, several things happened at once: 1. a light tropical rain started. 2. the sun peaked out from the cloud, just above the horizon and 3 a car full of gringos pulled up and provided music. The result: one of the most surreal experiences of my life. The sun and the rain produced one of the clearest rainbows I have ever seen, which spanned either side of the gorge, only because we were on a 500 foot high bridge, our field of vision was doubled in the sense that we could see down, as well as into the sky, and because the rain was falling throughout the gorge, a perfect circle rainbow was formed, making a bull's eye in the sky for us to aim at as we jumped. That beautifully coincidence, along with the mellow, lighter-waving classic rock coming from the car made an extremely surreal surrounding. As I said, Dylan jumped first. The last thing we said before he left was, “jump to the rainbow” and he did, another successful jump in Banos. As I waited for the line to be pulled back up, I was getting nervous; before I knew I was strapped in and had climbed over the guard rail on the the one square foot, diving board. From the board there is usually a 5 second preptalk from the jump master and a 3 second countdown. For me however, I had to wait almost a minute starring down into the river, hundreds of feet below. Finally they gave me the countdown and I heard “Salta.” The one piece of advice the other gringos had told me was to keep my eyes open and I did. I saw the world open up underneath me for a fraction of a second before I fell. Then, before long, I was falling head first, the on my back, then looking eye to eye with my friends on the bridge. Then as I swung back for the first time, my stomach fell into my feet and after a few swings, I was lowered the rest of the way to the ground. Dylan had waited for me and was shaking with adrenaline, me knees wouldn't hold me when I landed (I landed in a cactus, by the way), so I sat down beside him and waited to see if Sam was going to jump. The second she started screaming, Dylan and I jumped up and screamed back. I have never heard anyone swear louder or more creatively that Sam Kessler as she fell from the San Fransico bridge in Los Banos. I couldn't believe she had done it. When she landed, she couldn't walk or stop smiling and neither could we. We waited while our legs regained their strength, and started the long walk back up the gorge. It was the greatest adrenaline rush I have ever experienced and a high that I did not come down from for hours.
When I was a kid, my mom would ask me, “If so-and-so were to jump of a bridge, who you do it too?”
Now I have an answer.
Into the Wild (10/5/09)
For the last 8 days I lived at the Tiputini Biodiversity Research Station, located in the heart of the Ecuadorian Amazon. We had to ship in all of our food, electricity and supplies for the duration. The station is managed by the University of Quito and only allows researchers and students to visit. Bueno, from the second my father dropped me off at the airport until I haled a taxi for the ride home it was an adventure. Just getting there is an adventure in itself. It took us around 10 hours to travel no more than 400 kilometers. To start we flew out of Quito in a small commercial jet to Coca, a 25 minute flight. As we flew, we passed UNDER the peaks of Cotopaxi, Antisana y Cayambe. Once in Coca, we travelled down the Napo river (a major tributary to the Amazon) by motorized canoe for 2 hours to a Repsol check point. (Repsol is the Exxon Mobil of Spain and is raping the Amazon in Ecuador. We had to jump through several hoops for the oilmen, who have absolute jurisdiction over there territory, even more so than the Ecuadorian government). Once through the check point we traveled by chivo (a cross over between a bus and a landrover) for another 30 kilometers through Repsol territory until we came to the Tiputini river, where we disembarked and boarded a smaller canoe, which carried us down until our research station. Just as the station came into sight, the driver landed the canoe along the bank of the river and told us to watch the water. Not 30 seconds later, a 3 meter Cayman (a relative of the crocodile and alligator) crawled from the bank into the river no more than 100 meters from our dock. Once we landed, the first thing the guides told us is that the rivers are excellent for swimming and assured us that it was 100% safe.
After we unloaded, we took the guides advice and jumped into the Amazon for a swim. Besides cayman, the Amazon river also is home to electric eels, sting rays, piranhas, 5 meter anacondas and of course the imfamous canduris (small, spined fish that have been known to swim up your urethra if you pee in the river). Also, the Tipuniti River is a whitewater river, which means that it is high in sediment and has a coffee mixed with milk look, making water visibility less than 10 centimeters. But nearly all 22 of us swam for 15 minutes without a problem. Then Dylan told everyone to get out and fast. As we all scrambled onto the boat, we looked to where he had seen something moving. We watched and before long, we all saw it, but it wasn't something that wanted to eat us, quite the opposite, it was a freshwater, amazon river dolphin and her calf, playing in the river, wanting to play near us. For those who have never seen or heard of Amazonian dolphins, what makes them special is first, they are endangered and rare in Ecuador and second, they have pink skin. So there we were, swimming with the pink, endangered river dolphin and her calf as the sun set over the Amazon. I will never forget it. Needless to say, we swam in the Amazon everyday, often more than once and usually to bathe with bio-friendly soaps.
Swimming was a necessary daily event due to the 90+ percent (no exaggeration) humidity everyday. Nothing would dry, ever. Our towels from our first swim were still wet 7 days later when we packed them up to leave. Your hair never dries. When you sweat, you shirt, pants and socks stay wet, forever. Hanging clothes to dry is useless and a waist of time. Needless to say, we were a smelly group, I felt bad for the people we flew home with us. The only thing that made the humidity worse, were the tropical rainstorms. And let me tell you; you have never experienced a true rainstorm until you get dumped on in the amazon. Despite the 90% canopy cover, you are drenched in a matter or minutes. Rain jackets help,but there is no avoiding the rain. However, the rain in the Amazon is usually warm and it is absolutely beautiful. Everything in the Amazon is beautiful, but it is something special when it rains.
Ok, before I go any further, there are some Rainforest essential facts and concepts that need to be explained. First: black, rubber, knee high rain boots are essential and must be worn at all times. This is because the floor of the amazon is nothing but mud. You also should where them in case you come across a fur-de-lance, so that if you are bitten, you chance of survival goes from about 20% to 70%. Second, when you are bushwacking, or romping through the forest, you never touch any trunk or vine than you don't need to. This is for two reasons, first, almost all plants have both physical and chemical defenses and second: Bullet ants. The bite of a bullet ant was described to us as the single most painful experience one can endure. (this came from someone who had given birth twice). Sylvia said it is like a knife twisting in your nerves and it hurts so bad that you will often throw up.
For the first 4 days we would wake up with the forest around 530 and leave in groups of 5 with a different guide. Each guide would take us to a different part of the forest. In total, there were 4 guides, so we had four morning adventures. Day 1 we were lead on a morning hike through the jungle without trails to learn about medicinal plants of the indigenous people. We also ate lemon ants for a pre-breakfast snack. The ants taste exactly like lemonade and bite your tongue as you chew. The next day we climbed 40 meters (130 feet) into the canopy to the bridge network between several giant ceiba tree (the mothers of the rainforest). We watched the sunrise over a misty rainforest and saw five or six species of toucans, scarlet macaws and literally hundreds of other birds of paradise. The following morning we took the canoe upstream and saw the endangered tapirs (kind of an ugly cross between a hippo and an anteater). Once we turned around, the guides killed the motors and we all floated back downstream to the station. On the fourth morning we climbed almost 50 meters into the canopy to an observation tower to further observe birds and monkeys from the peak of the canopy. During these days we usually had half of our time in the lab, learning ecology methods or background ecology and half of the time in the field testing our new methods. We would return for lunch at noon, have an hour of free time to swim, field work at 2 until 6, dinner at 7, a night activity or lecture until 10. Then we would crash. I don't know if it was the high oxygen concentration, over exhaustion or my malaria pills, but I have never slept better than in the Oriente. After the first four days of early morning adventures, we were allowed to sleep in until 6am. On the fourth day, during lecture, we had a monkey chasing crash course so that on the next day we could break up into pairs and collect data on some of the various species that fill the reserve. They also wanted these pairs to go to specific trails and at specific times, so that the data could be cross referenced with other groups. We were placed in groups according to how “rough” we wanted our trail to be. My partner and I were given the farthest and most isolated trail in the network. This trail, Harpia, is the least traveled and maintained, por eso, we had several hours of bushwhacking, map/compass reading and absolutely zero monkey sitings. But not all was lost, we walked, slide, crawled and climbed through some of the most beautiful forest I have ever walked in. This land has almost never been touch my man and reminded me of what it would have been like to be alive during the time of the dinosaurs. It was strange that Kara and I didn't see a single monkey because generally it is hard to go 100 meters without hearing a howler, spider, wooly, titi or saki monkey. Day 6 and 7 were filled primarily with Small group projects and exploration. But the best day was day 7, a full day hike in groups of 4 with one of the guides or monkey researchers. I choose to follow a guide around because monkeys aren't my thing and I did not regret it. My group was lucky, our guide was Don Mayor, a local man with Quicha roots, who had lived in the rainforest for nearly 60 years. He looks very similar to the Dali lama and has the heart to make it. He took us downstream where we jumped off the boat and climbed up the banks of the amazon to our trailhead. Sylvia had warned us not to outpace Don Mayor because he was getting older and she was concerned we would be overzealous with out pace. Turns out, Don Mayor spent most of his time waiting for us. We left at 6 am with breakfast and lunch in our backpacks and did not return until after 330 in the afternoon. The majority of our day was spend following the don around as he made monkey calls, bird calls and cut a trail (along he is only 5' 2”, so I had to still duck to fit through the trail he had made) for us to follow. All while pointing out things that we all would have missed. A rare mushroom here, a beautiful orchid there. He then stopped to make us all bracelets out of the fiber of low growing palm. I mentioned that the ceiba trees are said to be the mothers of the rainforest because the can live to be 1000 years old and are simply massive. They can easily rise 60 meters off of the ground and use buttress roots that spread for dozens of meters. Anyways, according to the Quicha indians, the spirits of the forest live in these trees. During our lunch break, Don Major, told us some of the local and surprisingly recent beliefs about these spirits. Except, these stories weren't stories to the don, they were histories of people and places he knew. He made it very clear that he believed in these spirits and that they have directly interacted with his father, a family friend and his dog. I won't go into the details of all three stories here to save you readers some time, but the next time you have a free hour and see me, I'll do them justice. In case I forget there is one about 2 spirits kidnapping a boy, one about his father's friend and boy who cures his mother of disease and one about the don's dog, a spirit circle and the resulting death of the dog. They all are extremely captivating and worth your time. Remind me.
We listened to other stories too. Like how the don cut an anaconda in half with a machete and a living frog hopped out of the severed snake. Other stories like this. As we were making our way back to the stations (still about 2 kilometers out) The don stops walking and turns on his heel and darts into the jungle. We follow and three incredible animal sighting all occurred in less that 20 minutes. First, nocturnal monkeys were clearly visible in a hollowed out truck (the don was more excited about this than we were). But then as we moved on, the don here the buho de anteojos (spectacled owl) singing. According to the don, they never sing; according to him, he had never heard it before. As we were looking at the owl it's mate perched right next to it and started hooing too. We were so concentrated on what was in the branches we forgot to look down, but when we did, not 2 meters from us was the pair's baby. That's right a baby spectacled owl had fallen out of it's nest and was calling for it's parents. The parents were afraid to descend due to the Saki monkey harassing the owlet. In steps Don Major to save the day. He scared the monkey away and gently lifted the owl into some nearby branches. With the monkey out of sight, the only thing on the owls' minds were the humans messing with their baby, so we backed off and let the family be reunited. It was an incredible display of nature and literally as we were walking away Don Major nearly stepped on a non-venomous snake. Instead of running away from the snake, the don charges it and grabs it by the tail. This is no gardener snake, this fatboy is 2 and half meters long and as think as a grapefruit. The don dodged two strikes by the snake an as he went to grab it, it slipped his finger and slithered away. The rest of our trek ended without the previous level of excitement, but when we walked into camp, we were exhausted. But did we rest? No! We refilled our water bottles and set off at a good click for the famous ox-bow lake 2 and half kilometers away. We arrived 45 minutes later at the lake and found the reserve's small canoe. Thankfully there were only five of us, leaving about two inches of freeboard in the dugout. The actual lake was unlike any other body of water I have ever seen. The lake is no longer in the shape of an oxbow but is surrounded with and filled with this one species of tree, except this tree grows no where else in the surrounding amazon. It looks like a classic palm, but all of its branches and truck are filled with spines. The lake is filled with odd fish, cayman, turtles and bats (yes bats). As we were in the middle of the lake, a light, warm, tropical rain started to fall, but because it was late in the day, the sun was low so its rays passed under the rain cloud creating a sky that you would see on a Jehovah's Witness post card. Also, because there was no with or waves on the lake, you could see each individual raindrop bouncing on the water. It was incredible! We returned soaked, dirty, sweaty and hungry to camp were were collapsed.
One last cool fact, although Tiputini is only 700 hectares, at least 12 ocelots, 7 jaguars and 1 cougar all have been caught via camera traps throughout the park. It is said that each large cat need at least 1000 hectares to hunt successfully. These cats are fleeing the surrounding oil projects.
And finally, as with our cloud forest excursion, the 22 of us are now even closer: At night we would all gather by candle light (the power cuts out ever night at 930) and just talk. One of my closest friends here shared this piece of advice on how to live you life, I like it so much that I am now going to share it with you: If someone where to come up to you and offer you the opportunity to relive your life, from start to finish, exactly as it happened before, all the while, never being aware that you were reliving what had already happened, you should never have to think twice about doing it.
The ride home was relatively uneventful until our chivo was stopped by a local man in the road. He was demanding money and gasoline, neither of which we had. He was trying to get to Coca, rather than give him something for nothing, Sylvia purchased some of his wife's artisan crafts, so that they could pay the ferry. We rode with him for 30 minutes by bus, and 2 hours by canoe. After he literally jumped off of the canoe, and struggled ashore, Sylvia told us that he is the local crazy man and that he is also a convicted murderer. Once, according to Sylvia, he threatened a local Catholic charity foundation with a chainsaw, demanding mattresses and watermelon. So now everyone gives him what he wants and tries to stay out of his way.
Although, I will never forget the Amazon and hope to return again, it is nice to be in clean,dry clothes and have electricity. Also there are no jaguars, ocelots, pumas, bullet ants, anacondas, fur-de-lance, sting rays, cayman, electric eels, piranhas, malaria, yellow fever, bot flies, or caburis in Quito, which is nice. I have been battling a stomach virus for the last few days, but other than that, all is well
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)