This Little DCtonian Went to Market

Friday my coworker arrived in Quito to see his girlfriend (my host for the past week) and celebrate her birthday. I was really looking forward to seeing a familiar face after a week on my own (sort of). And so when I got the call that he had arrived and he and the girlfriend were on their way into the city to pick me up, I packed up for a weekend away and grabbed a cab to the university.

We were spending the weekend in Otovalo, a small city just north of Quito. The town is well known for its large public markets on Saturdays. One of the markets, earlier in the morning includes large animals and this is the one I really wanted to see. I´ve been living in the city for too long.

Our cabbie to Otovalo had driven down from the city, which was two hours away, to pick us up. For $40 he drove the three of us up and even stopped along the way for my camera-happy requests. The drive, at least before it got dark, provided excellent views of the canyons and mountains we speeded through. He also entertained my coworkers requests to speak to me in spanish so I could practice. Poor guy. I think the coworker did this just to keep me from interrupting his time with his girlfriend. And so I stared straight ahead and butchered questions in spanish about the landscape and our destination.

Our hostal for the weekend was about 4kms outside of town, straight up a mountain. It was so chosen, a) because the area was beautiful, and b) because my coworker knew the owners and had stayed there once before. We arrived at La Luna at 7pm (just late enough to miss the views) and made our way to the lounge for food. The evening was chill, with me eventually sitting in front of the TV watching Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas before heading to bed early. Each of our rooms had fire places, which greatly excited me. We immediately went looking for wood and kindling and got to work starting fires. Or trying to start fires. 30 mins later we agreed the wood was too damp and I went to bed cold.

The animal market I mentioned earlier was to begin at 5am and go until about 9am. The option of taking a cab down the mountain to the market was offered, but I decided I needed the exercise and opt´d to walk. And so I set my alarm for 6:30 in order to get down there in time to see the action. My coworker and his girlfriend politely, and seemingly clairvoyantly, declined my invitation to come with at that hour.

At 6:30am my alarm went off. I jumped out of bed, anxious to see the animal trading just down the road, and started to get dressed only to stop short when I realized that was rain I was hearing outside my dark window. So I reset my alarm for half an hour later and went back to sleep. Half an hour later, it was still raining. I repeated this once more, and at 7:30 all systems were go. I grabbed both cameras and my rain coat just in case, and hit the road. For the next 45 minutes I passed numerous groups of indeginous people walking the same road, each stopping to stare at me quizically, and then giving a nervous smile and the same reply when I offered a "buenos dias". Eventually these same people would come sailing past me in the backs of pick-up trucks offering sympathetic smiles. The walk was much longer that I expected, something my coworker and his girlfriend no doubt were very much well aware of.

After an hour of walking and three inquiries to groups of indegionous people, I found the animal market - in all its glory. Or as much glory comes with seeing dozens of cows, goats, and pigs leashed and relieving themselves where ever they stood. I´m not sure what exactly I expected, but the hike was worth it when I saw a large pig flipped, held down by four people, and its tooth ripped out in the span of 30 seconds. What this accomplished, I haven´t the foggiest. But it was really cool to watch.

For the next 40 minutes or so I wandered around pretending to not take pictures of everyone and their cow as I snapped picture after picture. There were a few other, older gringos there taking pictures. But the locals took little notice of us. They went about bartering, selling, and buying farm animals. It was an experience. One, I was told, I could see any day of the week once I hit Bolivia. But for now I was in Ecuador, and I was happy to be walking amongst these stinky bovine.

Once that grew old, I went walking towards the city plaza where the main tourist draw was the be held: a market of crafts mainly for tourists. I am as much a tourist as the next guy and was just as keen as seeing what treasures were to be found. Turns out there were quite a few. Treasures might be too strong a word, but there were some nifty things; my favorite being the chess set with one set of pieces modeled after conquistadores and the other after Incas. The knights were horses and llamas respectively. So clever.

While I waited for the other two to make their way down from the hostel, I decided to check out the food market. A weaker man might have withdrawn upon seeing the sheep heads, cow eyes, and even the actual skinning of a pig. But I am a man looking for adventure. And besides, I had lost my appetite back at the animal market. So down the corridors I went, checking out the pig feet, large stacks of chicken feet, what looked like soul food, and menu items I couldn´t begin to identify. When I got to the veggies area I suddenly developed an appetite and left the food market in order to keep it. Just outside I found Super Pollo. Seemed as good a place as any to have lunch. I ordered a half chicken with rice and soup and a coke. As I slurped away at my soup an indeginous couple walked up to my table, indicated in sign language that the restaurant was full, and by patting the chair, asked if they could sit at my table. I said sure and suddenly I had company watching me eat. A bit awkward. I nodded with a quick smile after every few bites, hoping their food would arrive very soon. When it eventually did, I tried to break the silence by asking what the sauce was they were putting on the fries. Mayonnaise. Right, of course. The man, rightly thinking me ignorant, proceeded to give me the name of everything on the table, including the salt, pepper, ketchup, and finally, picking up my bottle, coke. I nodded in agreement, ate my last bit of rice and bounced.

My coworker and his girlfriend finally made their way to the craft market and I met them there to walk around looking for things for the folks back home. Now I am not a big fan of shopping in my own country. I am even less a fan of shopping in another country. I would much prefer to walk around and look. But I had promised to send back gifts and thus had to think of what people might like. To me, a decorative gourd would not be an item I would particularly want to show off in my house. Would my friends and family want one? Who knows? And thus I ended the shopping trip almost empty handed. I won´t say what I did buy for fear of ruining the surprise for those of you that did get something. But I will apologize in advance for these gifts.

Face and neck bright red, and having been on my feet since 7:30, I was ready to call it a day. Our group had now increased to six and these new additions were hungry. They found a restaurant, and I found a place to prop my elbows and thus my head. An hour later we were in a car (thankfully) and on our way back to the hostal. I went straight for the showers - having noticablly skipped one that morning.

The evening was chill again. We had a light dinner, my coworker and I learned a new card game (he was much better at it that me - probably because the rules were explained in spanish), and with little enthusiasm headed back to the cabin for some drinking games. Before the games started however, one of the staff from the hostal came to our cabin and started fires in each fire place in less than a minute. My coworker and I agreed the wood must now be dry. At the end of the night, I retreated to my new room - without a fire place, and tried to sleep despite the sounds of flying beetles buzzing past my ear every 30 mins or so. No matter how often I woke up to inspect the room, shoe in hand, nor how many I killed, thirty minutes later I would wake again to the sound of a beetle buzzing my head.

Sunday was unofficially declared a lazy day. I was up at what I thought was 9:45. It was actually 8:45 - my coworker brought down my watch but didn´t reset it. This confused everyone down at the main building when the time was asked and I said a time much later than expected. I enjoyed breakfast and the view and chatted with a couple from Wisconsin. With no sign of life from the others in my cabin, I accepted the offer to go for a short hike up the side of the mountain behind the hostal. I was rewarded with the most amzing view I have ever seen. I could see as far as Colombia. Or at least I was told that was Colombia. Who was I too argue? It was one of the best experiences I have had so far on this trip. Movement was detected around 1pm down below, and so I made my way down to see what was up. Very little. Lunch was served and hammocks were filled. The only action to take place that day was a quick walk around a lake several hundred meters up. The walk was nice, if not short. But it was just enough to knock out the coworker and his girlfriend for the ride back to Quito. A restfull weekend will do that to you.

For pics of the weekend, follow this link:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/15233918@N00/sets/72157602917957296/