A Better View (or: How I Learned to Love Quito)

Tuesday morning I woke at 8am, took a nice long, warm shower, and headed into the dining area of the hostel for some breakfast and studying before class. I left about 20 mins early so I could check email at the internet cafe before walking to class. Should have left 30 minutes early. The excitement of communication from home was overwhelming and I ended up being late to class.

Class was painfull. Aside from being 10 minutes late when my teacher specifinally asked if we could do class early, I couldn"t seem to understand a single word she said. Seriously, four hours of me being stupid. I could see the frustration in her face starting at minute 8. This time during our break she suggested I take a walk to clear my head. I did. It didn"t help. It didn"t help matters that I kept checking my watch every three minutes.

When my seventh level of hell ended, I went back to the internet cafe for some much needed communication from home. Two grande beers later (is it the communication or the beer I needed?) I decided to go for a stroll around the city. The city really seemed drab. Everything advertised to the backpackers, there wasn"t anything really unique at all, and I began to wonder why there were so many backpackers making Quito a destination.

I eventually made my way back to the hostel as it began to rain and started working on my homework. When my room got stale I moved back to the dining room. I decided to take a break at one point and check the office to see if any rooms had opened up. Bingo. There were three cancelations. I could move into another private room with a private bath. For $2 mas. Feeling a bit better knowing I wouldn"t have to wake up really early to lug my bag to the empty hostel three blocks away, I went back to my work for a bit. At 7:30 I got a phone call at the bar. Who"s Mr Important at the $15-a-night hostel? It was one of the friends of my coworker"s girlfriend. She said she would be by at 8pm to pick me and take me site-seeing.

I packed up my work, threw on a long sleeve and waited at the front door. Who"s ready to get out of Gringoland?? My hostess for the night arrived at 8:15 with another friend and quickly ushered me into their car. We were on our way to the top of a very large hill (dare I say mountain?) in the center of the city. At the top was a grand statue of the Virgin Mary, all lit up for Halloween? The view from the top of the hill was amazing. Walking around the top I could see the entire city. Perfect chance to take photos right? Well, I dropped my camera not once, but twice, about an hour before when I was getting dressed. Now it refused to work. Of course. The three of us poked and prodded it for 5 minutes before declaring it useless.


As we walked around the hill for more views, I started shaking the camera for the heck of it. 3 minutes later it was working like a charm. And thus, your photo of the Virgin (though slightly blurry). Every pic I took of the city from the top of that hill turned out blury, so that"s all I have to offer. I saw an area of the city where there were several churches within a few blocks of each other and asked what it was. That area was where the Spanish first founded Quito (according to my guides who could not agree which area was North Quito and which was Central Quito). I asked if we could drive through there on the way back and they said of course. Actually they said "claro". It was one of the few things I understood that night. And off we went towards the "area of the churches". It was brilliant. This area is what I have been wanting to see. Old, ornate churches, the seat of government and all its grandois buildings, streets running up and down hills full of cast iron decorative gates. I took picture after picture. Two came out clear. A view of San Francisco(the church) and a view back through the streets towards the hill with the virgin. Enjoy:













After going down one too many one-way streets the wrong way, the guides said there was time for a quick bite to eat. How did I feel about Burger King? Well, I didn"t feel very good about it at all. So we ended up at the cool little bar down the road that cooked hamburgers at the front door on a huge grill. Much better. After downing our three HUGE burgers over conversation as varied as do I have a chauffer in the States and is DC bigger than Quito (I doubt it), I was chauffered back to my hostel where I decided Quito is worthy of a travel destination. Thanks to my two excellent guides for making me appreciate the city so much more...

Gringoland

What does one do after a day in the country? Explore the city, of course. But this city is huge and my coworker will be here on Friday with nothing to do during the day while he waits for his lady friend to get off work. So I´m trying to save site-seeing until he gets here. Plus the thought of taking one of these city busses by myself scares the crap out of me. So here I am in Gringolang (so called because this is where most of the backpackers end up). The area truly caters to us. There are three internet cafes on every block. Lots of bars, lots of restaurants, lots of hostels, lots of Spanish language schools. And everyone seems to speak English. Unfortunately this also brings in opportunistic crime. Sitting in the internet cafe I have listened to several mugging stories. Fortunately, no one seems to have gotten hurt. Because of the stories, I´ve generally stuck within a six block radius of my hostel. With Spanish class four hours a day and the homework adding another 2-3 hours, I don´t have a whole lot of time for exploring anyway.

But the coworker´s girlfriend is still lookin´out. Yesterday she had friends pick me up around 7pm to take me out for some dinner. She mangaged to get out of school early and meet us (thankfully, since she is the one that speaks fluent English). We went to a trendy, artsy bar/restaurant near her university. The place was great. Art all over the place, great colors, cool decor, a few suits, and best of all: the most amazing mojito I have ever had. The converation was mostly spanish until various points when they noticed my glazed-over look and translated what was going on. I tried to keep up. I couldn´t. But damn was that mojito good. And it was good to get out of Gringoland for a bit. I´m sure no one there knew I was a backpacker. I tried to keep my boots hidden under the table.

Earlier that day, I had my first of 10 four-hour spanish classes. I walked in the door at 10am and was immediately hit with a barrage of Spanish. You´d think at a spanish school they would first ask you what you need to learn in your native language. No one seemed to even know english. This changed a bit when I pulled out the $180 I owed for the class. Suddenly the owner could speak a bit of english. My instrutor is this hip woman who told me in Spanish she hasn´t studied English in more than 10 years. She only spoke English once during the entire four hours and that was to say, "I will not speak English to you". It was tough, I won´t lie. And four straight hours made it even tougher. I was looking forward to a lunch break around noon, but all i got was a 15 minute break where the instructor ushered me to the hot water heater for some tea and more conversation. I was led into a false sense of security at first when I knew the meaning of every vocab word on her flashcards. I thought these classes would be a breeze. Danielsan, you learn so quickly. But then we started conversation. So much for all those vocab words.

When 2pm hit, I said chao and bounced. The first priority was to find a new place to stay. My current hostel was booked solid from Wednesday through the weekend leaving me homeless. So I checked out a couple of the places near school that my teacher recommended. The first place I checked had a private room available but the blanket was littered with cigarette burns. And there were at least four dogs milling around that I could see. So on to the next place. This place opened three locks before the door opened a few inches to see who was there. I said something about having the wrong place. Then I found a place one block down with my own room, own bathroom, and both were spotless. All for $16. But there was no one other than manager in the building. I reserved the room anyway, just in case.

Next it was back to my current hostel to study. That was rough. Who wants to do homework when they"re traveling? The view out on the terrace proved too much of a distraction, as did the hippie playing guitar and singing to himself, so I went into the dining area to continue. With two grande beers. My homework was marked all to hell in red ink the next day.

Are You Laughing at Me?

What happened since Suday morning? Glad you asked. After the car alarm woke me, I decided to get up and check out the breakfast menu in the house. French toast with OJ? $2.50. Then on to check out my surrounding in the light before my ride came at 11am. I took a map along and went looking for the building where I would be taking Spanish classes. It was one block away. That killed 3 minutes. So I went walking to find the company that had put together my Galapagos trip. It was a block and a half away. Another 4 minutes. So I decided to chill in the plaza with a coke and people watch. I had an hour left before my ride arrived. The city was dead so there wasn´t much to watch aside from the occasional indegionous woman selling fruit or tiny paintings. (pardon my spelling. spell-check doesn´t seem to want to work here).

My coworker´s girlfriend arrived at eleven with her entire family. Mom, dad, bro, and sis were all in the car. Surprise! I was going on a family trip to the family hostel in the country. To this point I thought I was going for a drive to see the city from some mountain. We drove through the city, through the ghetto, and I did see that incredible view I thought I would see. The city is friggin huge. And it seems to stretch on forever. We drove for an hour and half and during the entire ride my hosts played tour guide. I got a full summary of everything we passed. It was great. If I was on my own, I would never have known that the kids wearing bright purple costumes and face paint were not dressed for Halloween, but to attract attention when they hopped on busses to hock popsicles, sunglasses, candy, etc. Who knew? Through out the trip there were several jokes told and much laughing. Unfortunately most of these were in Spanish and I had no idea if I was in on the joke or the butt of it.

We finally arrived at the family hostel in the middle of the countryside.It was beautiful. And it was empty. There wasn´t a single guest. So I got a walking tour of the place without distraction. Okay, not true. The family dog loved attention. As for the lack of guests, I was told they are working on a web site to advertise. They also have a bit of competition from a hostel across the way that is in a 300 year old colonial mansion. I got a tour of that too. I can see the challenge in trying to compete.


Anyway, the best part of the hostel? Okay, aside from direct TV in every room. The awesome view of Cotopaxi, the highest active volcano in the world. The old mansion didn´t have that view. We walked around the "estate" and saw a few horses, lots of farm land, and a small field of alphalfa, which wasn´t actually part of the gardens(?). After lunch with a view of the volcano and watching her cousins and tios play soccer, the family packed us back in the car and drove us back to Quito. Not as much trivial info coming back, but I did see a man relieving himself on the highway. Not off the highway behind some trees. On the highway.

When they dropped me off, and after I managed to butcher the thanks-yous in spanish I had been practising in my mind for the past 30 minutes, I went back to my room and applied first-aid to my heels. Note to self: break in new kicks before taking them on travel. Flip-flops and bandages now on, I headed out to see what there was to eat. Combos and a bottle of water. Then back to the hostal where I read until 9:30 and passed out. Enough excitement for one day. I needed the rest for class tomorrow. Next time hopefully I will be in on the jokes being made in the car instead of being the source of them.

Pics of the day: http://www.flickr.com/photos/15233918@N00/sets/72157602793384373/

Random Thoughts in Quito

Some random thoughts as I procrastinate instead of doing my homework:

I am a big fan of the kiss-on-the-cheek greeting.

I also like that men don"t do this to other men.

I forgot about about having to toss used TP in the trash beside the toilet. It"s hard to remember to do that.

This is the first hostel bar I have seen that is empty at night.

Car alarms should only go off when the car is physically jarred. Especially when parked outside my window in the morning.

Next time: break-in newly purchased shoes before taking them on a trip. I am already wearing band-aids.

The ghettos in the U.S. have nothing on ghettos in most foreign countries.

First lesson in economics: purchase locally. Last night I bought a bag of Combos for $3.65. This morning I paid $2.85 for eggs, bacon, toast, coffe, and juice.

Why do hippies always seem to have access to guitars?

Latin men are short. It makes me feel tall.

Until I walk into my hostel full of Scandinavians.

Ecuador uses the American dollar. Makes things so much easier.

I can"t figure out how to make the apostrophe sign or the "at" sign on these keyboards. It"s really messing with me. Any ideas?

Oh, and I have no idea how to hook up my camera"s USB cable to these PCs. Any ideas?

This Place is Full of Friggin Mountians!

A sign of what´s to come? My friend took me to National airport yesterday two hours early. But the airport was dead. So we got some lunch to kill time. When I thought I better get to the gate, I pulled up my bag and went through the ropes to security. The woman checking tickets and IDs at the end of the line looked over my ticket and suggested I walk down to the terminal with the gate I would be leaving from. Right. Stopped short. Once on the other side of the airport, I went through security again, this time with no problems.

After a two hour layover in Atlanta, I boarded my plane to Quito. I was the only gringo on the flight. No kidding. And I was in the last row so I did inventory a few times just to make sure. This is why it struck me as odd when the pilots continued to update the passengers of the Florida/Georgia game. I was seated next to a man who was on his way home to see his wife and kids for four months. He has been working in the States for the past 15 years and goes home when he can to see his family (and apparently make additions to his family while he´s home).

We ended up chatting for most of the flight down. Nice guy. He told me Quito was a great city, but to never go out after dark. Awesome. Oh, and the movies they showed were Lisenced to Wed and Evan Almighty. See neither.

As we decended, the same man told me to look out the window. I saw thousands, millions of lights. Right below us. He said "this is Quito". The airport is right in the middle of the city. And the runway is as short as you would imagine one to be at an airport in the middle of a city. The plane braked hard. I prayed. We survived. Welcome to Ecuador.

My coworker´s girlfriend was there waiting for me after customs. Her father was parked right out front and they drove me through the night to my hostel. Turns out my hostel was right in the middle of the Saturday night bar scene. The girlfriend took me into the hostel and made sure I was settled before leading me back out onto the steets for a quick tour of the surrounding streets. Then a tour of the bars with her friends. I spent the next couple of hours grasping at whatever Spanish I could understand as everyone chatted away. But my host did a brilliant job of translating when I looked confused. Which was most of the time. Fighting back suggestions to go dancing from her friends, my host finally walked me back to my hostel and said she would contact me in the morning for a drive out to the countryside with her family. I turned out the lights, laid down and managed to pass out immediately despite the club noises just outside my window.

It was the truck parked in front of my window that woke me at 6am. Well, not the truck. The truck´s alarm which was set to "don´t breathe on me". It went off no fewer than a dozen times over the next three hours. I finally got up and took a look out my window for my first glimpse of the city in day light. There were mountains every where! Who knew? Today I would be driving up, over, through, and down the mountains surrounding Quito.

Next installment: the country.

Owww...my head

And I'm up! Okay, I'm not out of bed, but I am awake. The going away HH was a success. I got to say goodbye to most of my friends and I managed to find my way home before 5am. At least I think it was 5am. I don't quite remember. Here are some pics from the night out. They are helping me to piece the night together.

Two Outta Three

Today there was a small office party for me – with the most amazing cake from Heidelberg Bakery (thanks GS) and a card with Dorothy, the lion, the Tin Man, and the Scarecrow. My face was pasted on Dorothy's neck (no intentional offense). It was confirmed that I need a chip implanted in me so my office mates can watch me wander in circles from the comfort of their desks. After work I went to my boss' apt for another party to see me off. Same boss that allowed me the extra week (DK - you rock). She let me off for four months and threw me a party (maybe this is a sign I should start looking for another job). Both were very much appreciated.

But I'm home by 10:30. Need some rest. Tomorrow is the bigger farewell. I'm having 40 people who claim to like me, in some form or another, send me off in style over several rounds of drinks in DC's Foggy Bottom. Honestly, I'm really looking forward to it. Several of my closest friends will be there; people that I will miss seeing on a regular basis. Should be a good send off. And, in one of my smarter moments, I scheduled this two days prior to departure so I wouldn't be hung over the day of.

For everyone following this blog (both of you), I'll take the small camera and attempt to post some pictures of the event. I need to learn how to do that before I go, and this seems like the best chance to do so. The more pictures posted from the party, the more comfortable I will be posting pics later during the trip. Keep your fingers crossed...

No Problem

I went back to the Brazilian consulate this morning with all of the same paper work, but this time I also brought a copy of my bank statement. The clerk was all smiles when she saw the statement attached to the other paper work. She even cracked a few jokes, "Your Portuguese is very good!" (I didn't say a word in Portuguese). I guess it was clear I didn't plan to go looking for a job in Brazil.

My visa will be ready on Thursday. Funny how easy that was this time.

In other news, my bedroom floor is completely covered with items I thought I might need on this trip. In the far corner is my backpack, looking rather small in comparison to the rest of the mess.

If At First You Don't Succeed....

Yesterday I went to the Brazilian consulate on embassy row to apply for a visa. I brought all the necessary paper work, along with my passport, two small photos, and a postal money order for $100 (all this to see some swamp land for a week). After waiting 45 minutes for my number to be called, I gathered everything and headed up to the service window. Everything seemed to progress smoothly until the clerk looked over my itinerary. This was a print out of my flight schedule. She asked where the info for Brazil was. I told her I didn't know exactly what date I would be entering or leaving Brazil; I just plan to take a bus in from Bolivia at some point and then take a bus out to Argentina when I was ready to go.

Not the right answer. Apparently I have to show proof of arrival and departure; a plane ticket, a tour schedule, anything. They want to make sure I'm not slipping into the country looking for work. Right. She suggested I get the visa at their consulate in Bolivia, but I stil wouldn't have my bus ticket out of Brazil. The only alternative is to show a bank statement that suggests I have the means to support myself while I'm there. Is there really a problem of U.S. citizens slipping into Brazil looking for work?

So I am going back to embassy row on Monday with all the necessary paper work to try this again. So far I'm not impressed by Brazil.

Mucho Dinero

I just wrote a check for the remainder of the payment for the Antarctica trip. I'll put it in the mail in a few minutes. I've never written a check for that much money. This better be a life-changing experience.

On Holiday During the Holidays

I went to Charlotte, NC, this past weekend to visit my family once more before the trip. This will be the first time in 30 years that I won't be with my family for Thanksgiving or Christmas. And mom's not happy about it. The trip home was exhausting. Drove an hour & a half north of Charlotte to visit one set of grandparents the first day. That night I went to a concert with my parents and the other set of grandparents. The next day we were all up early to go see a house my parents may be buying while I'm away. So next year the holidays won't even be in the same house. That was another hour plus drive, and it took most of the day. Then home where I spent the better portion of the evening smoking cigars and watching college football & DVDs on the history of trains with my grandfather in his shed. Not a bad way to spend an evening.

The last day I drove all over Charlotte buying last minute things for the trip. I got home just in time for a rushed dinner with the whole family before having to run out to the airport. *whew*

I don't feel like it was enough time. Especially since I won't be with them for the holidays. But what can you do? Thanksgiving and Christmas will be tough this year. On the first holiday I'll be on a yacht sailing around the Galapagos (okay, so maybe not that tough). And on the latter holiday I'll be in Bolivia celebrating with a friend's extended family. I was warned that I better find a phone on those two days. That's a given.

Need More Time

Seventeen days. I leave in only seventeen days. I have so much left to do! My replacement at 226 came over last night to provide guidance on what needed to be removed from my room before she moves in. I was hoping it would be less. I had no idea I had so much stuff in that room. Where do I put it all? And I really need to sit down and do an inventory of everything I'm taking. I've just been tossing things into a large bucket without really making note of what's going in there. Looks like I have plenty of wool socks.

And tomorrow I leave for my parents house for three days. That may be a good time to rush around and buy everything I still need. If I can finish all the freelance work I'm taking with me. Two months ago the days couldn't pass quickly enough. Now they're passing too quickly.

And....

Just called the Bolivian consulate to ask about visa requirements. They're out of applications until the end of October. Awesome.

Visa? But I'm a US citizen! Oh....

Bolivia recently enacted visa requirements on all U.S. citizens. Recently as in last month. And this visa costs $135. Great. More unexpected expenses.

Evo Morales, the Bolivian president, has decided that since the U.S. requires Bolivians entering the U.S. to have a visa at the same cost, Bolivia should reciprocate the favor. Perfect timing.

Brazil has done the exact same thing to the U.S. But they're Brazil. People want to go to Brazil. They have great beaches and Carnival. Bolivia has....salt flats.

Okay, I'm sure Bolivia will be worth the visa, whatever the cost. After all, they also have, um.... Well, I hear my Bolivian friend's family is a lot of fun.

Ugh

Nineteen more work days. Nineteen too many...