Monday, March 29, 2010

got scabies?

The term "dirty hippie" gained new meaning for me this weekend when our dreadlocked, festy-junky, raver of a roommate Jen found out a couple of her million bug bites were in fact scabies.
Suz served as translator at the doctor's office and promptly came to tell Laura and I as we were sharing a beer wtih some locals.
"You should live your life alone and sad," said the most insane of the 4 older men before Suz delivered us the news.
Maybe he has a point. Alone and sad, but scabie-free.

Since then we've boiled and washed or bagged and quarentined all of our belongings, covered our beds with a thick plastic and duct tape and fumigated the room.
I lathered, soaked and scrubbed myself only before covering my entire body with a potent cream meant to kill the little buggers (if they were there at all).

So here's to a new sense of appreciation for hygiene. Thank you scabies.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

wookie spotting

We knew just how touristy Canoa was when our menu had ranch dressing listed. Regardless of the fact it tasted like hot-dog water (accodring to ranch expert Sarah Horner), the rest of our Friday night meal was delicious.
Afterwards, however, I have mixed feelings about.
Though the beaches, the hotels, the home-made jewlry, and the people were beautiful- the night life was a little sketchy. As street bars close relatively early, little tiki huts lined up along the beach are open late and blare tencho music as kajillions of latino men watch for the fresh gringa bait. (they say the sharks on land are more dangerous than the sharks in the water..)
While downing beers and pretending not to hate the techno beats, little did we know we had a contender for Mr. Ecuador sitting next to us. We found this out only after Laura smooched this AC Slater/Prince look-alike. Never to be forgotten though. thats for sure.

Sunday came a little too fast and we hopped aboard the roof of a bus overloaded with people, bags, and live chickens. My fear of tumbling overboard to my death was eased by a drunk Ecuadorian man singing and passing around shots of caña. Good man.

Now back in Bahia, its really starting to feel like a home away from home.
On the way to the bus station I'll run into the woman who sells me my morning bananas, or on my way to the beach I'll run into the infamous Peter Mero at Bar Hermanos Mero.
This week I spent a good amount of time hanging out with some kids I met the first week here and realized a friendship was pretty inevitable as they make their living performing fire shows.
My palm reading by Victor told him a horrible accident would happen in my life but I would live through it. Really? A crease in my palm told you that? I could tell you that based on my track record. But I'm also destined to have 2 children.

I'm pretty sure time hasn't even existed this week as the only time I'm concious of it is at 7 a.m. when Manu Chao or The Band wakes us up; or when the sun sets, telling us its time to head back for our communal dinner.
Baby Sol is naked and throwing food everywhere as the rest of us go back for second and third helpings. Mmmm's all around.


"There are things you do because they feel right and they may make no sense and they may make no money and it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other and to eat each other's cooking and say it was good."

Thursday, March 18, 2010

home sweaty home

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, whisper words of wisdom, let it be, let it be....

I wake up to the sound of music our first morning in Bahia de Caraquez, Ecuador and our new home for the next 5 weeks. The Beatles have never sounded so good.

Our host Clay is total surfer dude, complete with a stoner voice and laid back attitude. His wife Margarita and him have the cutest lil babe anyones ever seen named Sol, who is buck naked 80% of the time.

The Planet Drum house holds about 7 volunteers at a time, only 4 of which are filled including us in our first week. The other volunteer, Rebecka is from Sweden and may be the chillest person I have ever met. Based on her, I now know that along with great meatballs and massages, Sweden also has great people. Sadly, Rebecka has moved on in her journey around South America and has left the Planet Drum house, but not before teaching us some tricks of the trade, and having a great farewell send off party that may or may not have involved some wonderful brownies.

Now in my second week in Bahia, I can say I am falling only more in love with this city. It's a pretty small costal town and seems like everyone knows eachother as friends yell across the street to familiar faces.

I have to start reminding myself that just because the best pork sandwhich I've ever eaten only costs 50 cents, or the gooeist of burgers is only a dollar, doesnn't mean I have to buy and eat everything the nearest bike cart is offering.
I've never eaten so good as I've eaten here- both health-wise and taste-wise. I start every morning with a bowl of strawberry yogurt with granola and a freshly picked banana bought that morning from the market around the corner. The market is always bustling with locals and there's an array of every vegetable, fruit, and fish an Ecuadorian could imagine.
After our nutritious breakfast (and a big ole cup of much needed coffee), Orlando, the Planet Drum land manager, picks us up at 8:00 and we bus it out to the location of the day.
We sharpen our machetes (what? never thought i'd say that in a sentence detailing my day..) and start clearing the brush. A lot of trees were planted months ago and are grossly overgrown since the rainy season started.
One day last week I was lucky enough to find Ecuador's most poisonous snake (El "X") at my feet, and Suz has dug up two tarantualas in one afternoon.

The days we actually plant the trees (and not just prepare for them or protect them) are my favorites. Like last week when we went to the small community within Bahia where Orlando lives, Bella Vista. About a dozen children immediately crowded our truck, eager to help. They spent the rest of the day helping us put in the trees and pat down the dirt.
The sun is intense here, especially in the past few days as the rainy season comes to an end. I've never sweated so much in my life. But the workday ends around noon and we drag our tired, sweaty asses back to the Planet Drum house where we load up on veggies and rice and beans and anything else that is so readily available and so ridiculously cheap.
Anyone who knows me, knows I usually have minimal physical activity in my days, so I find myself absolutely ravenous. hah.

My goal each day is to try and find the PorkSandwhich Man. MY GOD. Uw and mangos, so many mangos. And avocados, oh my goodness...
Anyways, after a big lunch, I start to feel more like a human being again and make my way down about 5 blocks or so to the beach.
There lies the Pacific Ocean at a perfect cooling-down temperature for my overheated body to play with.
The waves are big and salty and force laughter from me. Then its time for me to attempt and shed my 'gringo-ness'. This is two-part in that I try and get my bronze on under that sunshine, while also browsing through my Spanish phrase book.
I usually become frustrated at the phrases it offers, such as "Is there a plumber in the area?" (Really?) -and instead try deciefering the Spanish of various under-aged boys licking their lips at us. Ew.

A local archeologist/surf instructor/ beach bum has possibly befriended me- all while trying to sell me surf lessons and his home-made necklaces of course. But he's friendly and full of energy and accepts my Tarzan Spanish, so he's cool by me.

What I fill my afternoons with, what I actually "do" each day , would be hard to say. It mostly just consists of trying to live as a Bahian, and not get too fried by the sun.
One thing I know is when that sun starts to set, we get a front-row seat for the Caida del Sol (fall of the sun)and drink our well-deserved Pilseners.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

mama nature never looked so good

on Thursday we took a bus to Baños, about 3 hours from Quito, but a world of difference as far as sights and folk were concerned. The city is the spanish word for baths, named so because of its natural hot springs and waterfalls.
We arrived early, around 11:30 a.m. but evenso I found myself insanely overwhelmed by the sheer amount of activities to do in this crazy beautiful city. Where there wasn´t adorable cafes, restaurants, or stores, there were places with information on canyoning, bungee jumping, zip-linging, horseback riding, bike riding, etc. etc.
We grabbed some lunch on the second level balcony Magic 8 cafe and I tried to calm myself as we prioritized which super fun things needed to be done first. We ended up renting some bikes and started biking around the mountains. We came to a waterfall and a giant canyon where a local asked us if we wanted to take a cable car across. Cassie and Suz were pretty much game right away, but it took me a few minutes to get up the nerve to give Laura my fannypack and tell mama and faja I love them. I figured if we died at least we were all in this together and I didn´t want to be in Laura´s position of having to deal with my three friends´s bodies at the bottom of an Ecuadorian canyon.

We biked a bit further until we came to a bridge where some crazy dudes were trying to get us to bungee jump off of it. I´m not trying to die today, but thanks, was all I thought. However, after watching one of them do it, I decided I needed to or I´d regret it. Never have I ever experienced such an insane high. You know when you ride rollercoasters and your stomach drops? Well this was like that but then after your stomach drops, it just completely diasppears and its like you become pure inertia. Once I walked back up to the bridge and stopped shaking, I immediately wanted to go again but refrained in fear of becoming a adrenaline junkie. Best ten bucks I ever spent.
Next was Suz´s turn and as her body flung back towards the bridge where we watched, a simple "This rules" came out of her mouth. classic.

The last stop of our bike trip brought us to El Diablo, or the devil, and the most insanely beautiful waterfall I have ever seen. We were able to climb through some caves inorder to stand behind the rushing water and all screamed at the top of our lungs. Who needs therapy with days like this was all I could think. I don't think I've never felt so present and alive in my life.

For dinner we prepared a meal of beans, rice, stirfry peppers and a whole lotta guacamole on our hostel(Plantas y Blancas)´s rooftop kitchen and seating area. After cashing a couple bottles of wine we made our way to the Leprechaun Bar where there was a giant fire outside and a dancefloor inside. Here we met locals, as well as a good amount of gringos including kiddos from Canada, Australia, Germany, and other parts of Sud America. I experienced my first taste of "machissimo" on the dance floor as Tomas repeatedly told me to "look into his eyes" but I continued mostly with my lanky white girl dancing.
When the bar finally kicked us all out around 4 a.m. we stumbled through the rain to a playground with toys and rides too fun to have in the U.S. with American parents rate of suing. But we weren't in America, and there weren't any parents. so play on.

Monday, March 8, 2010

It's all happening...

Aiy yai yaii! Ok so I didn't start the blog as soon as I was hoping for, but we also didn't arrive to our first farm as soon as we had planned on. Laura, Suz and I arrived safely into Quito, Ecuador, cowboy hats in hand, late Monday, March 1st. We made our way to Casa Colonial hostel and first started to feel the elevation differences after huffing and puffing up three flights of stairs.

The next morning I woke up with the biggest grin on my face. I can't believe we've actually made it here.
It's all happening.
We met Cass at Centro de Los Muchachos Trabajadores(CMT) in downtown where she volunteers. Niños were hoola-hoopin and happy. We grabbed lunch at Cafeto and had some delicious sandwiches before making quite the trek up the beautiful basillica. We went to the tiptity top, clibming up on thin little ladders with our sandals and nearly peeing ourselves. The view was beautiful though and well worth the possible year it took of my life in fear-related stress.
Duty called for Cass so she hoped on the metro and the tres amigas headed back to the hostel enjoying our afternoon with some guitar playing (complements of suzie) and some reading. For dinner, Cassie hooked it up with free food at her working boys center and we met the other gringo volunteers.

The next morning we woke up early to go meet Laura's sister Sarah and her boyfriend Andy at Plaza Grande. The tres amigas were having coffee at a cafe when some boys with juggling pins and bicycles called us over from a courtyard across the way. Total crusty punks. Suz was in love. They did some juggling for us and I smiled and laughed but remained mute, except for "lo siento, no hablo espanolo." Sad.

We then hiked up a hill probably, but I'd really like to call it a mountain for effect. This thing was huge! By the time we reached the top, nearly dead, the Basillica we had climbed yesterday looked like child's play. At the top was El Paneciello, a large statue of Mother Mary.
On our way down some school children warned us of robbers and murderers along the path and we almost blew it off until an older woman came running down waving her arms and making a slitting throat movement with her hand across her neck. Wow. Reality check numero uno. We picked a safer way down and were grateful to still have our heads and our cash and treated ourselves to a delicious meal outside Plaza Grande.

Laura and I decided it was time for some pampering so we got a $4 manicure but Suz said "it's not for her". shocker. Instead that crustypunk made a new friend at a local tatoo shop, bonding over gauges. haha, love you suz. Laura on the otherhand was stuck with some lovely handpainted flowers on her pink nails.

That night, 6 amigos including Cass, Sarah and Andy went to Ranchos Grandes down the street from CMT. They were pretty embracing of los gringos and offered us shots of some licorice-tasting vodka and taught us how to play a game similar to corn hole in the states, except they threw at a mound of sand. meh. I told everyone Suz was my girlfriend since ¨novia¨was my favorite new spanish word of the day. I don´t think she hated it.