El día en la selva

[Note: this was written on Sunday, January 18, 2015 about Saturday January 17, 2015]




As I cruised over the Ecuadorian jungle hooked onto a cable with a carabiner that I had attached myself, I couldn’t help but wonder how I had gotten there.

Let me back up a little bit. On probably Monday (Jan 12) or Tuesday (Jan 13) Host Mom and Host Brother and I were sitting and eating and talking when Host Mom asked me if I liked nature. I told her that yes I liked nature a lot. Excitedly, she told me that we would be going on a “paseo” (which I knew to mean walk) in nature. Understandably, I assumed this meant we would be going on a hike with some other families in the neighborhood. 

Throughout the week I heard from Lilly and Caroline, the other two Pitzer chicas in my neighborhood, slightly different stories. Apparently Lilly’s family owns a property in the jungle and we’d be going there and there was potentially zip-lining and horseback riding. To be honest, though I believed Lilly, I was stubborn enough to still be convinced I would be hiking.

Back to Saturday. Host Mom had told me to sleep in until 8 or so for a 8:25 breakfast. Host Baby woke me up around 7:30, but I stayed in bed for a while and the morning ended up rushing by. By the time I ended up downstairs, the whole family was around sitting around the table. I was shocked, not just because usually I’m the first, but more because Host Dad was sitting at the table. I hadn’t seen Host Dad since the day they picked me up from the hotel. We ate rather quickly and I discovered that my host family did not actually eat the seeds of grapes, which I had been unsure about so had just been eating. This spiraled me into a minor breakdown about whether or not grape seeds are toxic (rest assured, they are not). 

We all piled into the car with Host Baby on Host Sister’s lap in the middle seat and took off. It has since occurred to me that I was pretty easy going. If it had been in the United States or my own family I would have asked a million questions and probably been grumpy if I didn’t feel my questions were answered sufficiently, but I couldn’t do that here so I just went with it.

We drove out of Quito towards the mountains for a while. About an hour into it, we pulled over to the side of the mountainous road and Host Mom explained to me that her brother-in-law was building a house up the mountain and that Host Dad, Host Brother and I were going to see it. Up for the adventure, I threw on my sweatshirt and ran over to the red truck parked at the bottom of a steep dirt road. We began our ascent up the mountain, stopping only to allow a few more people to hop in. It had rained the day before so we didn’t drive up the road so much as skid and slid up it. I’m slightly used to being a passenger on rough terrain due my time in Nebraska, so I was simultaneously grinning and praying the whole time. We made it to the open where the land opened up to reveal stunning mountains delving into ravines of jungle. It was gorgeous. We got out of the car and the men walked over to where the house was being built to assess something or other. There were cows wandering around, so naturally I wandered with them. I took some cow-selfies and many more pictures. That kind of view is my favorite kind of beautiful. Unfortunately we had to get back on our way to whatever was in store for us, so we slid back down the mountain road in the truck. Going down was worse than going up, but look! I lived to tell the tale.

We continued our drive into the depths of Ecuadorian mountains and each turn revealed an even more gorgeous view. The trees on the mountains looked as though they had returned home after a long day and slouched over their couches. After being told so many times that it became a joke that the house was “just around this little turn,” we finally made it. I managed to get to the bathroom, change into the rain boots we had brought, and put on both sunscreen and bug spray before being loaded onto a sideways one-person ski-lift typed deal with Lilly and Ami (another PZ person) next to me. (Caroline, sadly, was unable to come because she wasn’t feeling well). The chairs didn’t take us too far up the mountain, but judging by the sounds that they were making as they carried us to the platform, I don’t think they could have taken us much further. All the children and a few of the adults came up this way while a couple of the other parents hiked up to meet us at the platform. We then took off into the jungle. We hiked for a tiny bit and ran into a zipline, but were told that it was closed, so we continued hiking.

For me, time doesn’t exist here as much. I don’t know how long we were driving or hiking or eating or anything. We just move on to the next thing when we get there. This is a great lesson for me.

Eventually we did get to a zipline that was apparently not closed. With our gear (harness, rope, and pulley) on we zoomed off. There was someone who had done this before at the beginning and at the end to catch us, but it certainly wasn’t the most obviously secure activity. We knew it was safe because our host families wouldn’t have brought us here if it wasn’t, but at the same time I was glad my mom wouldn’t know about it until I was back safely at my house. There were six lines and they were incredible. We got to zip over a waterfall one way and then on the other we had a crystal clear view of the region below us. It was absolutely stunning.

By the last few we were hooking ourselves to the cables. When someone got stuck in the middle, we threw them a rope to catch. When someone accidentally let their pulley go without attaching themselves while standing on the starting platform, we sent the next person out with a push to get them and the pulley to the other side and then sent someone else back with two pulleys. We were all safe, but it seemed like a creative safe.

When we arrived at the last point we were told that we were late for lunch and we needed to hurry back through the jungle to get to the house. We had been hearing about “las truchas” the whole day. Apparently it’s a salmon/trout typed fish that is only in this region. After a filling soup we were each given a large section of fish. I took a huge bite, excited to try it. Excited, but also naïve, as I hadn’t thought about the fact that the fish would still have its bones in it. I began picking the bones out of my mouth slowly. Host Mom looked across the table at me right after I’d swallowed my first bite and told me to be careful of the bones. “Excellent, will do.” I ate the rest of the fish much more slowly and enjoyed it immensely. My favorite part of lunch, however, was dessert. It’s going to sound weird, but it was actually delicious. It was a bowl with half a peach in it filled with vanilla ice cream with oreos crushed into it. It tasted like peach cobbler with oreo for the crust. I ate mine happily and then I ate Lilly’s because she was full and I couldn’t let that go to waste. I have missed ice cream a lot.

After lunch we went on two mini hikes. Neither time did we know where we were going before we left. The first we ended up at a look out spot that we climbed up and searched in the jungle for signs of life with binoculars. The second one was to the waterfall that we had ziplined over. Both were beautiful. When we returned the moms made fun of me for taking so many pictures. When we had hiked back up to the house from the waterfall, we were asked if we wanted to ride horses. My answer was that of course I did, so we walked back down the massive hill to where the horses were kept. 

Lilly had never ridden before, so we had a good time getting her on the horse (literally pushing her on top). Once Lilly was on, they gestured me over to the other horse. I asked if I was good to get on, they said yes. I placed my foot in the stirrup and began to hoist myself on. The horse promptly began bucking. Somehow I slipped off and backed up as the owners got the horse to calm down. One of the guys jumped on to the horse and took off galloping saying “he likes to run!” When he returned, he told me I was definitely good to get on this time. I wasn’t super stoked on the idea, but what was I going to do? This time the horse chilled as I got on and we took off at a walk as the owner led me. I asked what the name of the horse was and he laughed and said “Rebelde” and then said he didn’t know how to say that in English. For those who are curious, I did know, and it’s Rebel. An aptly named horse if you ask me. The owner led me down the road awhile and then when we turned around he gave me the reigns and explained to me how I would get Rebelde to stop and start and turn. I just went with it, not feeling the need to explain that I ride horses most summers and although I’m not great, I do know how to get a horse to start, stop, and turn. I simply smiled and said “ohhhh!!” excitedly and practiced when he asked me to.

As soon as I arrived back to where the horses were hanging out, my family told me they were leaving so I said my thank you’s and did all the cheek kissing I could handle and jumped into the car. It was a little after six at this point and had been a long day.

We drove back through the windy roads for a while before once again pulling over to the side of the road. This time, however, it was dark and I had no idea what was going on. Host Dad got out and began yelling something about “las truchas.” I asked what happened but couldn’t understand much of the answer except something about buying or selling truchas. Eventually some car came by and gestures were exchanged. Host Dad got back in the car with Host Brother who had been searching for phone service and we got on our way. I was confused, but figured I’d never know. I was also focused on trying to figure out how I felt about the fact that I feel way more comfortable in the secluded jungle of Ecuador than in the modern city.

We made it home a little after eight or so and ate some delicious “Empanadas Verdes” before making our way to our various rooms. It was a crazy day just because so many different things had happened in a relatively short amount of time – none of which I was truly prepared for.

This morning after breakfast, I noticed a bucket of fish (truchas) on the counter, presumably answering my questions from the night before.

Y mañana, me voy

It’s crazy to think that it’s my last night in Ecuador (at least for awhile). I’m trying to think and process and all that, but I’m not sure how to put it all into words yet, so I’m not going to try. I’m grateful for the time that I’ve had here and I will say that I have learned so much, both about the world and about myself. Once I can put into words the end of my time here, I will (another promised blog?), but for now, I’ll leave you with a couple sillier stories about my time here. I’m looking forward to getting home for a few reasons, one of them being to be able to run consistently again. I’ve had funny misadventures during my runs in Quito and I’ll share a couple with you now.
 
For the record, I wanted to call this blog “The runs in Quito” for the pun, but I didn’t know if that translated into Spanish. Anyway.
 
My running here began slowly with lots of 10 minute runs around the 400-500 meter-ish conjunto (gated neighborhood) I lived it. I was comfortable there and the guard would always acknowledge me. It was safe, but not all that interesting. As a 10k track runner you’d think I’d be used to running in circles, but alas, I still do not love it. Eventually my first host family showed me the old airport turned park about a five minute run from our house where I could run on certain days. I did that once and then was kind of banned from doing it again after I got a cold from the wind. So there I was, back to the conjunto. Except on glorious Sundays. You see, Ecuador (or Quito rather) has this program wherein they close one of the main streets for runners and cyclists to have free range all Sunday morning and most of the afternoon. I’d forgotten the freedom of running for awhile until I was able to step onto a street and just go. I got a few funny looks, of course, but I always felt very safe. (Okay, yes, I did also carry pepper spray, but I never had to use it!)
 
When I switched families I was aware that I probably wouldn’t have a safe circle to run in, but that was the only con of leaving, so I decided not to worry about it. And then I met my new host dad and he told me about how he ran every morning in the park and that I could join him. The first time I ran with him was a Sunday, so we went in late morning to the huge park and I was absolutely shocked to find that it was jam packed with people doing all sorts of exercises or just hanging out. Mauricio, my dad, showed me that the park even had a 800 meter track hidden in its depths. Although I hadn’t thought I’d miss a track, especially after the conjunto running, I nearly cried with joy at the sight of something so familiar. Running around the park that Sunday was absolutely awesome, but it couldn’t beat the next time I was there.
 
The next day Mauricio asked if I wanted to get up with him to run at 5. Obviously, I said yes. When I woke up the next day I was unconvinced about why I agreed to this, especially when we walked out the door and I was greeted by the still black night. We arrived to the park and it was still pitch black. I had kind of thought that Mauricio would run with me since it was so dark, but alas, he said chao and I took off. I liked running in the mornings (I did it twice) because of how fresh it was. There were people, but not too many. As nice it was, I couldn’t help but think of how in every single safety training we’d had we had been consistently warned, “do not go into La Carolina [the park] unless it is Sunday afternoon and you are in a group.” I usually adhere religiously to safety warnings, but I chose to trust Mauricio on this one and, hey! It all turned out well. Unfortunately, I haven't been up for running so I have taken a bit of a break and will continue when I get home Sunday.
 
My favorite story, however, happened in February when my first family host brother-in-law Paúl took me to run in another park in Quito. This park is a lot more like a forest with hills and trails and I was absolutely delighted to feel like I was back in nature again. Paúl brought his two dogs and asked if he could practice his English with me for the run so I was pretty much in heaven. We reached one point where you can see a ton of Quito stretched out before you. I was breathless (although we’d just climbed a huge hill so that may have had something to do with it). However the best was after we’d finished our run as we walked through a small orchid Paúl asked if I wanted juice. I asked where, trying to stall to figure out 1. If I wanted some 2. If I should have some (this was still early in my stage of extreme worry over purification of water) 3. If I had brought money. Paúl gestured in front of us and said “here!”. Not seeing anything I thought “Huh, are we taking it off the trees?” and responded that I was good without juice (and to myself: the pesticides could be different here!) Paúl said that okay, but that he was going to get some anyway and then we began walking through the orchid to – oh what’s that? An actual juice stand? Oh…
 
Alas, just a couple misadventures to tide you all over until I’m home. Speaking of, see you soon America!

Pero, antes de acabar...

Hello dear loyal followers of this blog (I’m talking to the 15 of you that actually read my community service blog).

My countdown has, somehow, officially reached single digits, so I thought I’d give you a quick update on what’s going on, with the promise of more thorough posts to come. My main concern right now is the 20 or 30ish page investigative/research paper that I am writing. In Spanish. My paper is about the public vs. critical perspective of the recently changed education policies in Ecuador. This is the longest paper than I’ve ever written in English let alone Spanish, so until Tuesday I shouldn’t spend too much of my time regaling you all with my Ecuadorian misadventures. 

However, after Tuesday (maybe one of these before I get home?) I plan to post a blog about running here in Ecuador that I’ve written in my head, the blog I promised wherein I’m real about the challenges of being abroad, and that one blog I wrote in January and promised I’d post in May.

I’ll also potentially write about getting back to the states and what that’s like, but who knows.

Mid-Chiva Ride PC: Brianne

Never fear though. A quick story for your enjoyment: aside from having a Latin American lover, should you spend time in Latin America, I also recommend that you do your best to find your way onto a Chiva party. A chiva is essentially a truck where usually there’d be cargo or animals, but instead they cut off the sides, leaving a sort of “fence” and then dressed up the inside to be a dance floor. In the one I was in there was also a pole dancing pole. I’m not sure if it’s standard or not, but alas. The chiva drives around for a few hours blasting Latin American music as people dance and drink. As you can imagine, with each turn and stop light there is ungraceful lurching and as I’m already a poor dancer, I can’t tell you how many times I came THAT close to falling on my face only to be saved by my friends. I had a blast not only dancing (or can you call what I do dancing?) but also being able to see Quito at nighttime as we sailed through the streets. And I’m just lucky enough that I get to do it all again tomorrow.

Enough procrastination, back to my project. (Wait, but does anyone have any funny YouTube videos I NEED to see right now or songs I should listen to?)