Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The end of Ecuador

Apologies for taking so long to get another post up. We've been dealing with some stomach issues that have drained our motivation to even think about writing. Suddenly the words of friends at our going-away party ("Seriously, just don't eat while you travel") seem much more wise. Oh well, at least our weight loss is progressing nicely.

After Quito we bussed down to Baños (pronounced BAN-yos), a small touristy village where gringos come to do outdoor sports. Unfortunately we only had 1 day there where it wasn't pouring. We took advantage of the sunshine to rent bikes, and rode around the mountains in search of a waterfall called Pailon de Diablo (The Devil's Cauldron). The ride was incredible. The Andes are stunning - the peaks tower over you with glistening green slopes, studded by farmland somehow being cultivated on a 45 degree angle.



Halfway through our ride it started pouring, so we ducked into a tiny 'restaurant' to wait it out. 'Restaurant' is a bit of an overstatement. This was a tiny shack, where the owners lived in the bedroom in the back, and had a grill and some tables out front. 3 dogs wandered around, and chickens surrounded the property. It took the woman about half an hour to build a fire big enough to cook us and her family some fish. We drank tea and I picked at the fish, finding it surprisingly difficult to eat because I'd never been served an entire fish before. So sheltered. Finally the rain passed, and we continued on our ride. It lended a certain nostalgia to our ride that would've been lacking if it hadn't pissed rain for 2 hours.

 

We finally made it to the waterfall, and once again we were stunned by the beauty. The only way to get up close to it was to crawl through a tiny 3-foot diameter tunnel that had been made in the side of the mountain, and get completely soaked in the process. It's yet another instance that made me appreciate the freedom people have in South America. Given a similar circumstance in the U.S. or Canada, there would've been a paved walkway to the waterfall (destroying much of the mountain in the process), safety rails everywhere, employees helping you up, waivers to sign, blood oaths to swear, etc. I had the same thought when climbing up the ladders to the top of the basilica - this would never be allowed back home. It makes me a bit sad that we're so coddled in our society. A lot of fun and adventure is compromised that way.



We've spent the last 5 days in a tiny city called Cuenca (KWEN-ka). Cuenca is a small town with colonial architecture and grand churches on every corner. One of my favorite things about Cuenca is the very noticeable presence of the indigenous population here. The women still don their tradtional outfits - a feathered hat worn high on the head over a long braid of hair, a long colorful skirt, and a shawl. I always have to do a double-take when I see them taking taxis, or using ATMs, or drinking a Coke. It makes me feel like someone snatched them from history unawares and rudely dropped them here, 1,000 years in the future. I wish more groups of people still wore the traditional dress of their culture. How entertaining would that be?

 

We were ready to move on from this tiny city after day 2, but decided that going on a 6 hour bus ride where the toilets are averse to flushing would be a terrible idea until we felt better. Finally, today we have arrived in a shitty little town called Loja (LO-ha), our last stop before heading into Peru tomorrow. I'm excited to almost be in Peru, where we will travel around with Ross's brother to various ruins and parks. It will be nice to get away from the cities. The stench of fumes is constant in every city we've been to so far - inside our hostel, inside restaurants, literally everywhere. It has left me feeling lightheaded and a bit claustrophobic, and makes me really appreciate how clean our cars are in North America. Not to mention the insane traffic - stop signs are really just suggestions down here. To cross the street you just run into any tiny gap you can and hope for the best. Can you get across without dying? Yes? Then it's your right of way. (As evidence of how shitty Loja is, this is the one picture we took of this city.)



Both Ross and I have noticed our tolerance for poverty increase drastically. Already Ecuador doesn't seem poor, it just seems natural. Instead, it's Vancouver that seems preposterously extravagant. Before we left the city, a Michaels the size of a city block was being built next to our apartment. An entire 20,000 square foot store dedicated to arts and crafts! Absurd. And we wonder why real estate is so expensive. I'm sure I'm echoing the sentiments of every traveler that has ever gone before me, but: I love the way this trip is already making me re-evaluate so much that we considered normal before we left. I wonder how many of these impressions and thoughts will stay with me after we come back home. It's been an absolutely humbling experience and I'm really looking forward to what new thoughts the rest of the world will bring.

Click here for more pictures of Cuenca:


Click here for more pictures of Baños:

No comments:

Post a Comment