Volcanos, Orchids and Baños, oh my!

I am still in Ecuador, Baños, to be exact. It is a little town in the central highlands of Ecuador surrounded by gorgeous green mountains and volcanos. The volcano,Tungurahua, makes the water underground REALLY hot and the town has several thermal baths. We went to the baths last night and I felt like I was in ancient Greece, bathing in huge pools with tons of people. The water comes out of the ground a little yellowish brown because of the minerals in it, and I found myself glad that it was dark out because of all the people in the pools and all the pee and what-have-you that I am sure help contribute to this coloring. Entire familes were all in there together talking and teaching their kids how to swim. Old men sat in lines around the edges, watching the young beauties and gossiping together. It was super crowded but with both Ecuadorians and gringos. The water was super hot and it was a cool experience.

Yesterday, Shay and I were invited to go hiking with a Ecuadorian we met at the bus stop coming into town the other night; a true casador de gringas (gringa hunter), as they are called. I will explain later. We took a bus into the mountains and then went hiking all day through pueblitos and jungle-lish trails. The mountains here are cloud forest almost like a jungle. There are a ton of orchids, air plants (which I LOVE!), ferns, mosses, fruit trees and vines growing all over and in abundance. There are waterfalls everywhere. From the center plaza in town, even, you can see a waterfall coming down one of the surrounding mountain sides. Its really quite gorgeous. Shay, William (the Ecuadorian) and I took a cable car across a valley and river to some other trails. We walked to a house where a family that William knew lived. They had a little pond FULL of trout. William handed us a stick with a piece of fishing line and hook tied onto it. We put a tiny little piece of bait on the hook and dropped it into the pond. Within seconds, the trout were attacking the hook and I had a big trout in my hands. The woman who lived there and who kept calling us "Mi vida", then scaled, gutted, threw the guts to the dogs and cat and then cooked the trout for us. She fried plantains in my favorite way and gave us some jelly that looked like apple butter but was made from guava fruit to dip the plantains in. It was the best meal I have had in S. America. The mosquitos were really bad there and I am now covered in red, itchy welts, but it was all worth it. The best days I have had on this trip so far are the days that we go against everything the guide book says not to do.

Today, Shay and I rented a four-wheeler/go-cart and looked like really stupid tourists as we bounced around mountain roads. It poured rain for the first half of the trip and we got soaked and covered in mud. We stopped for lunch, more trout and un grande cerveza, and the sun came out. We laughed at ourselves for being bad tourists as we zoomed past others on their bicycles, but it was really fun. Tomorrow, we are planning on going white-water-rafting.

It is really great to be out of the city. We were in Cuenca for about three days and I was very happy to be out of there. It´s a pretty city, but I´m sick of cities, partly because of one particularly creepy guy who kept turning up at our hostel and asking for us and mostly because of how wonderful open people are in smaller towns. We always meet more locals in pueblos and have really good interactions. The pueblos are safer and much easier to get to know than cities. In the cities, I´m much more wary of everyone.




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Los Domingos: las dias de descansar

Sundays: the days of rest. I love them. No one works. Or many people don´t. Stores are closed. Little girls all wear their fancy white dresses and prance around like little princesses. Their brothers wear their blazors seriously, which are usually a tad bit too small or big. The parks and plazas are packed with families and old men, strolling, gossiping and sitting, people watching. In Peru, the schools practice all week for their weekly parades on Sundays. Parents crowd the streets to take pictures of their children in the marching bands. Old men with old cameras come out to take pictures of people who don´t have their own cameras. They take down their names and addresses and send the pictures to them later.

The markets are in full force on Sundays. Farmers and artisans come from surrounding pueblos to sell their art, fruit and vegetables. Music blares from windows and parked cars. Men gather around volleyball courts, take off their shirts, exposing bulbous bellies and play volleyball in an anything but Olympic way. They cradle the ball for far too long in their calloused hands and never allow the women to play.

Oh Domingos. How I love them here in America del Sur.