Lindo Mindo, and some things that don't rhyme as well

The Terabita that took us 500m to the land of waterfalls

This past weekend I checked out of the smog and into a cloudforest two hours north of Quito with a travel buddy also from UMass.  Mindo is a birder's paradise, as even our untrained eyes found two species of toucan, ears heard the witch-like cackling of some mysterious bird cloaked in red and blue, and behinds got a front-row seat to hummingbird world.  Who knows what someone who actually knew what to look for would have found...  ain't that always the case?

Happily taking advantage of our classless Friday, we took a "tarabita" cable car 530m from one mountain to another, and from there trekked up and down its side to visit five waterfalls. Unfortunately, the prospect of a frigid dip in the cascades is about as inviting as bare, wet ankles are to every bug on the ascent back up through the cloud forest.  I compromised with a dip up to the thighs as trav buddy stood under the main cascade without a second thought of consequences. 

While zip-lining appears to be something akin to skydiving, it’s really more like sitting in a swing and enjoying a beautiful view than feeling any sort of adrenaline rush.  Tubing, however, appears to be something akin to a lazy river hour when in reality sitting on the triangular intersection of three tubes tied together as part of a huge network of tied tubes is 25 minutes of exhileration.  Worth the goosebumps.  There were two guides who ensured that our huge vehicle didn’t capsize or get stuck on rocks, and after two quick minutes of jumbled Spanish instruction we were off.  They wore wet-suits and tall boots, kicking off of oncoming boulders and tugging us behind while navigating the river.  No esta nada.  Meanwhile we’re in helmets and lifejackets.
Later I saw a man on a motorcycle, which would have been normal if it hadn't been for his near-infant, with his first tuft of hair blowing in the wind, riding in the front.  Either we're too safety-conscious in the US or are these guys too lax.
Regardless, I'm concluding that Mindo's community life was just as much of a spectacle as well.  I watched as our 14 year-old “waiter” went to the vegetable stand across the street to fetch some of the ingredients that, five minutes later, turned into lunch.  I can't help but think that money just circulates amongst the various storeowners as they give each other business. 

Leaves that size are a wonder to me, too

giant leaf, crouching David

"downtown" Mindo

 

Cuz what else is there to?  More importantly, how could there be a better way to pass an afternoon?

For a place with such action-packed options during the day, there isn’t a lot luring a traveler toward Mindo nightlife.  We sipped on chocolate caliente and sat outside, reveling in the community feel of this one main strip of restaurants and convenience stores.  Without tourism brought in by the natural life, even this little street wouldn’t have been so bustling.  All were perfectly content spending their Friday night enjoying each other’s company, as everyone seemed to know everyone.  

   Since Ecuador is so small, and the scenery changes so quickly, I hope to be spending most of my weekends soaking in as many vistas as possible.  It's easy to travel, as buses run daily in every direction, from markets to the coast to climbing destinations to the rain forest.  The general rule of thumb is that for every hour of travel, the ticket price increases by $1.  Just to give an idea of our budget for this first trip:

-$2.50 for the 2.5 hr bus ride from Quito--> Mindo, same for return

-$6/night for a private room and bath at one of the many hostals on the main st

-$2.50-$3 per meal, including drink, appetizer, and full entree

-$10 ziplining

-$6 tubing

-$5 cable car to waterfalls

Easy peasy to have fun on a shoestring.  Frugality comes at its own price, though.  We opted out of the $8 taxi ride to take us to the Tarabita, and ended up walking 6km up the mountain to get to the cable car.  On the way back, with toes protesting my choice of footwear, I cursed our frugality (cheapness).  However, I'm learning that it pays off to JUST DO IT, as if it weren't for our 45-minute descent we never would have come across these fellows:

Big fat mean green

We baited him with fruit loops

More on school life at the fancy USFQ later, when I can share the pictures of the pagoda, pastel architecture, and the hundreds of supermodels taking classes here, all of whom make me wish I hadn’t forgotten my pair of high-heeled pumps I usually wear to class at home (oh wait..).  This is the most expensive university in Ecuador, and while at a whopping $5K a year it’s no GW University, it's no wonder that everyone here dresses to impress.  Voluptuous hair, big shades, unfathomably large bags to replace the fashion faux pas that is the backpack, and the occasional piece of tape hiding a recent nosejob.  Apparently nosejobs are inexpensive here, and it’s commonplace to continue attending school unabashed while the new nose awaits its grand unveiling.  Like I said, more to come, especially if I can snap some of those winners...

fútbooooooool

No, I never heard GOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL.  In fact there were no announcers at all.  Just the incessant "CERVEZAS HELADOOOOOO" or "CHICLECHICLECHICLE" of vendors.

Red Sox fans better step up--they ain't seen nuttin' like a self-inflicted bomb of color erupting over the Nacionales crowd.

up, down, and around town

"You haven't lived until you've sat on the pot with a bucket in front of you, spewing from both ends"
Thus went our orientation day at USFQ, covering all subjects from guaranteed cases of food sickness to near-guaranteed incidents of petty crime during our stay here, from a history of Ecuadorian culture to the history of the civilian revolts against the party-boy Presidents during the country's more recent years.
Yesterday, we learned to be terrified.  We learned that Ecuador (similar to Los Angeles) has increased its crime ceiling from $200 to $650, so when your blackberry/camera/wallet/jewelry gets stolen, the police don't need to report the incident as a crime provided the lost goods do not exceed $650. So, yay for reduced crime rates! 
We learned about express kidnapping, smash'n'grabs, a magical rufie-type drug that can bring men to aid thieves in robbing them, and other fun methods of robbery that prey on inattentive rich folk.
Not to worry, mama, these are indeed horror stories, and the chances of any of the above actually happening are very rare.  I shall elaborate on their meanings once I return unharmed to the US.  The common pickpocketer is the main threat, and only if your things are out for the snatching!

On a happier note, I am looking forward to visiting the flightless ducks that can dive 80 m down in the Galapagos, or the healer that uses a guinea pig to diagnose and/or cure your diseases, as mentioned during orientation.  The campus itself is beautiful, more on that when real school starts (if ever).

It's been raining daily.  It always starts out sunny, with innocent puffs of fluffy cumulus, then the asshole dark clouds sneak in and tear the sky open. The power went out again last night, and Meche gave me an impromptu flamenco lesson in the candlelight, sin musica.  How romantic.  The host parents joke that the exchange students have brought this crazy weather with them.  We even had the strongest hail storm I've seen coat the city in white the other day.

This morning a few of us went up el telefériQo to Cruz Loma, a literally breathtaking viewpoint up Volcán Pichincha.  The cable cars dropped us off at 4100m (yes, METERS (a skydiving drop starts even lower than this)) and from there we continued to walk up the trails overlooking sprawling Quito, with what looked like ant-planes dropping toward the airport below, and clouds lingering at eye-level.  Needless to say, we were huffing and puffing along the way. 

 After this we ventured down to the famous historic center of Quito, where the Spanish influences are just as prominent as street vendors relying on the sale of film protectors and dog slippers (-.-)

Euro meets the jungle.  Instead of gargoyles, la Basílica is protected by anteaters, sea turtles, lizards, and crocodiles.

A view of the virgin Mary, who spreads her holy wings at what's said to be one of the best viewpoints in the city.

Taken moments before the downpour that brought vendors and grandparents and millions of niños to a frantic search of cover.  For all the rain this city gets, it's incredible how many ecuatorianos are still caught off-guard and unprepared.  In my escape, I caught my first bus--a ride stretching miles upon miles, for $.25.  Every bus ride costs a quarter (yes, they use US dollars here), and they can literally take you from one end of Quito to another.  Strange, then, how the majority of passengers on the bus still gave change to the one poor man on crutches shaking a can in people's faces, and how clothes are so much pricier here than they are in the States, and how my host mother still yearns for a $25k Honda or Nissan in lieu of her $20k Pathfinder.  Maybe money will start to make more sense as time goes on.

so it begins...

Three flights, two layovers and one pair of numb legs later, I finally arrived in Quito, Ecuador, where I will be spending the next five-or-so months on exchange.  Orange lights as far as the eyes could see greeted me during our midnight descent, only two hours behind Delta’s schedule.  During the Logan—>DC flight, the seats were filled with salt’n’pepa and/or blond hair, iPads and smartphones.  From Altanta—>Ecuador, however, the passengers had an average height of about half a foot shorter than their domestic flight counterparts, and we napped to the sound of crying babies.  Bienvenidos a Quito!  This city is huge—long and skinny.  Population: 2 millionish.  I now understand why the first page of every travel guide to Quito mentions its altitude.  At a mere 9100 ft, Quito sits in a valley in the Andes, which means three things.  1, that its skyline is filled with beautiful mountains at almost every angle, cutting into clouds; 2, that it acts as a bucket for the thick pollution spat out by the congested, maze-like streets; 3, that after walking ten feet with my bags upon arrival, my heart was unwarrantably pounding out of my chest.

If it hadn’t hit me before, it finally had.  Instead of spending my senior year enjoying the foliage of western mass, I’ll be spending the fall in a city of “eternal spring.”  A decent trade off.  I hadn’t met anyone who studied abroad in Ecuador before, and for all the frantic googling I did to find out more about this city, this school, this life, I am here with surprisingly few expectations.  One being that I better feel like an athlete upon my return to sea-level after breathing five months of thin air.

I spent my first day here with my host mother/flamenco teacher, Meche Bueno.  Yes, I will be living with the Bueno family, which is an obvious sign that there is no way this trip will go wrong.  She’s had countless students before, her “hijos gringos,” and already is everything I was hoping for in a host family—warmly accepting me as a new addition to her life, offering advice on the 1-hr commute to my rich-kid school, slowing down her Spanish to a velocity even a newbie like myself could follow, and cooking some badass tomato soup. She is one of nine daughters, and she has three grown children (32, 40, and 41) of her own, two of whom we visited today.  I’ll be sure to upload a map of her family, because she, like many Latin Americans, prides herself on her ginormous family that is impossible to follow upon first tale.

Apparently, many families here can afford to employ a woman who lives and works in the house, cleaning and cooking (said to be around $500/mo, which, with food and board included, is a great deal for the help. I guess it’s part of President Correa’s new laws on domestic help, which jacked up the costs of the in-home services.  I digress).  Maybe that’s why her daughter’s homes had meticulously positioned pillows and pieces of art deco, but that doesn’t explain their fancy sofas and sinks, hardwood floors and flat-screen TVs.  Set this image against a backdrop of urban poverty and you’ve got yourself a capital city chock-full of disparities.