Otavalo

Otavalo is an indigenous community about 2 hours northeast of Quito.  It is a picturesque little town, nestled between 3 volcanoes, with several crystal clear lakes nearby.  Otavaleños are famous for textile production and the central market of Otavalo, Plaza de los Ponchos, is known far and wide for its handcrafted wears.  I was lucky enough to have the representation of an acclaimed Ecuadorian lawyer (my host papi, Alfredo) as I haggled for the lowest possible price on various souvenirs.  
Sample interaction:

• Me:  How much does it cost?
• Vendor:  Normally $15, but I will give you a good price.  $12.
• Alfredo:  Ahhh so expensive?  I know what you're up to.  You see that she is a gringa and you take advantage.  Well, I am a native of Otavalo [note: not at all true] and I know that this neckalace is only worth $2.
• Vendor:  I will give it to you for $5, no less.
• Alfredo:  Bahhhhhhhh!  [begins to walk away]
• Vendor:  Fine, fine, $3.

Pretty slick, eh?  Well, here are some pictures.  

La Mitad del Mundo AND MORE!

Left foot Northern Hemisphere, Right foot Southern

      In case you didn't put two and two together, "ecuador" means equator in Spanish!  And guess what!?!  The equator runs straight through Ecuador!  Knowing that fools like me can't resist the opportunity to take a photo with one foot in each hemisphere, savvy Ecuadorians have constructed a small village of tourist attractions along the equator, roughly 15 minutes north of Quito.  
      My friend Henry offered to take me sightseeing on Saturday and, rather admirably, did not rescind his generous invitation when I suggested that we take in this geographical phenomenon.  We had initially planned on visiting THIS Mitad del Mundo ("The Middle of the World"), the better known attraction, complete with a grand (actually, pretty ugly) monument, museum, and cultural displays.  This "official" attraction marks the site of the equator as defined by some French scientists in the lat 18th century.  Not surprisingly, though, THE FRENCH GOT IT WRONG!  GPS reveals that the true equator lies a several hundred meters away.  French incompetence aside, when we arrived at said attraction, it was closed.  Hordes of angry tourists in fanny packs stood-by incredulously as a man explained that, in typical Ecuadorian fashion, the park had closed its doors for the day in protest.  (Employees felt that the entrance fees demanded by the Provence of Pichincha were prohibitively high for everyday Ecuadorians.)
      Rather than admit defeat, though, we walked down the road a bit to the Intiñan Solar Museum, supposedly located along the true equator.  This place was straight up crazy.  There was an exhibition about indigenous peoples of Ecuador, along with shrunken heads and many, MANY taxidermied animals.  On the equator itself, the tour guide presented us with several demonstrations of physical phenomena, nearly all of which were of dubious scientific merit.  If I am to believe what he told us, it is easier to balance an egg on a nail along the equator and more difficult to walk a straight line.  He also tricked me into believing that toilets REALLY DO flush in opposite directions in the Northern and Southern Hemispheres.  FALSE!  In the end, though, I must say that I give this museum GLOWING reviews.  The kitsch factor was undeniable.  
      From the museum, Henry and I went to a nearby health club with pools, waterslides, saunas, steam rooms, and hot tubs.  It was fun and relaxing, but, rather unfortunately, when I close my eyes and think back on the afternoon, all I see is a montage of overweight, hairy, middle-aged Ecuadorian men in impossibly small Speedos.  
      We ended the day at a Chifa, a Chinese restaurant.  Chinese food is quite popular here and somehow gets away with promoting itself as incredibly healthy.  Ecuadorian people, thus, can enjoy a guilt-free plate of fried rice with a side of french fries.  We should all be so lucky.  

Mindo Lindo

Last Sunday, I had the chance to go on a day trip to a place called Mindo with my friend Ilse from the Foundation.  Mindo is a cloud forest (kind of like a rainforest, but at a high elevation) about 1.5-2 hours northwest of Quito.  It's very green and lush and exotic looking and, as such, has gained a reputation for ecotourism in recent years.  I'm told it's of particular interest to bird enthusiasts, as it is home to a huge diversity of species. (I'm looking at you, Dad.)  During my day in Mindo, I visited a butterfly/hummingbird sanctuary, went for a hike in the cloud forest to look at waterfalls, went zip lining, and visited a chocolate factory (Ecuador is known for its cocoa).  All-in-all, a day well spent!  Here are some photos.

 magic butterfly.

 hummingbird...very difficult to photograph

 waterfall at the end of our hike

pre zip-line

cocoa beans

Meet the Abuelitos

Last week, I asked some of the abuelitos* if I could take their pictures.  They were more than happy to oblige, on the condition that I bring them prints at some point. Many of them don't own pictures of themselves, a fact that is hard for me to imagine.  Having grown up with a snap-happy mother, every moment of my childhood and awkward adolescence was painstakingly documented.  Now, living in the age of Facebook and digital cameras, it's hard to avoid pictures of myself. Anyways, it struck me at that moment how very different our lives are, at least on certain levels.  When I look at the portraits, though, I am reminded of the humanity we share.

*Clarification:  It has been drawn to my attention that the translation of "abuelito" is not clear to all.  Abuelito is an endeared form of the word for grandparent, abuelo.  One can use the word as a familiar way to refer to any elderly person, however, and not just one's own grandparents.  

Rumiñahui's Revenge

Rumiñahui was a great Inca warrior and Ecuador's last line of defense against Pizarro and the Spanish conquistadors.  All you need to know, though, is that he is the closest thing to Ecuador's equivalent of Montezuma.  Whether Rumiñahui is having his last laugh or I drank some bad water/ate some bad fruit, all I can say is that my feeble gringa bowels have fallen prey to the illness delicately referred to as "traveler's sickness."  And it is not pretty.  Why do I admit to having such a filthy illness before the entire blogosphere?  Think of it as a public service announcement: traveler's diarrhea is as real as you and me, kiddos.  Also, I have no shame.  Before I am tempted to go into further detail and/or wallow in self pity, I will leave you with a good ol' fashioned poop joke:
"Hey!  Did you know that diarrhea is genetic?  
...Yeah, it runs in your jeans (genes)!"  

grab bag!

Okay.  In lieu of a more structured blog entry, here are some little stories you might enjoy.  

• Once, I sneezed while walking on the sidewalk.  A man leaned out of a bus to yell "cheese!" to me.  Yes, in English.  I could tell he was pretty proud of himself too. 
• Remember how I explained that my bus is always filled far, far over capacity?  Though I kissed any need for personal space goodbye on perhaps my second ride on the TransFloresta and have since adopted a very "Cumbayá" attitude about the whole situation, I cannot say the same for my fellow travelers.  Each day, as the driver invites ever more people onto the bus to stand in the aisle, I feel the frustration radiating from other seated passengers.  Old women grunt, rap the side of the bus with their fists, and scowl at the driver, jowls aquiver.  Earlier this week, a chubby businessman made an impassioned speech, the central thesis of which was "¡No somos papas! ¡Somos adultos!  ¡Seres humanos!" - "We are not potatoes!  We are adults!  Human beings!"  A noble attempt, sir, but the driver could care less.
• On a related note, once, my bus driver had so many people on board that he no longer had sufficient horsepower to climb the mountain and carry us to Quito.  Everyone had to get off and wait for the next bus.
• You know how some people in the states say "sugar!" rather than utter a more vulgar word?  Well, here people replace that same nasty word with "mierrrrcoles!" - "Wednesday!"
• I caught the cook at the Foundation scrubbing out a large pot with an old shoulder pad the other day.  Waste not, want not!
• Until today, I had been very confused about a recurring problem with introductions. Sample conversation:
• person: "¿Y…Cómo se llama Ud. nena?" - What is your name, dear?
• me: "Kate." - Kate 
• person leans in and enunciates as if talking to the hearing impaired: "Digo...CÓMO SE LLAMA UD.?" - I SAY, WHAT IS YOUR NAME?
• me:  "ehhh....Kate.  Me llamo Kate." - errrrm...Kate.  My name is Kate.
• person:  "ahh.  cake."  - "ahh.  cake" 

          So, clever readers, explain to me why people always ask me for my name multiple times.  Give up?!?!  It's because my name sounds VERY MUCH LIKE "¿Qué?" - Spanish for "Whaaaat?"  THEY  THINK I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THEM!!!! SO THEY REPEAT THEMSELVES!!!  CASE CLOSED.  

• One of the abuelitas, a sweet old woman of about ninety, asked me how I'd slept the night before.  As a follow-up question, she asked "With how many?"  She laughed like there was no tomorrow and explained to me that laughter is the secret to old age.  
• Another abuelito speaks a little English and likes to practice with me.  Before he leaves the Foundation each day, he takes my hand and tells me "You are the best star in the sky."  Quite the charmer, that one.  

El TelefériQo

Yesterday morning, Katia called and asked if I'd like to hang out again.  We met in Quito and had lunch at a 1950s-style soda fountain.  Afterward, Katia and Miguel accompanied me to one of the hottest tourist attractions in Quito: El  TelefériQo.  The word "teleférico" means gondola lift.  For publicity's sake, they stuck a "Q" for "Quito" into the word.  BAM.  TelefériQo.  The TelefériQo was built in 2005 and was meant to be hot stuff.  They built shops and restaurants and a sad little amusement park called "Vulqano Park" (you guessed it!  "volcano" with a Q!) at the base of the gondala lift.  While the gondala ride continues to be popular and lucrative, attracting HORDES of gringos on clear days like yesterday, all of the other little ventures have shut down, leaving a creepy ghost town with tinny amusement park music drifting through empty buildings.

Though the TelefériQo may cost a pretty penny, it's definitely worth the ride.  The gondala carries you from northern Quito (elevation ~9,000 feet) to a point called Cruz Loma (elevation 13,400 feet) on the side of the Pichincha volcano.  From there, you can see nearly all of Quito and the surrounding mountains on a clear day.  There are several hiking paths and lookout points from which to take photos.  Pretty neat stuff!