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apollo8583


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South America and Back?

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Week 2, Still in Quito!

Quito, Ecuador


I am writing to you from an amazing altitude of 9,350 feet. My heart has managed to keep the blood flowing and I wholeheartedly beleive that I have acclimized to the altidude. Quito truly is a picturesque city. It is nesstled in between various dormant and some active (it´s been like 300 years since an eruption) volcanoes. Flying into Quito was a truly heartpumping experience. Not only was the altitude reaking havock on me but the turbulance on the plane was incredible as we descended, the clouds and updrafts tossed and boggled the qaircrafts precious cargo like a two year old playing a game of Boggle on a Cedar Point ride. As our plane taxied to the airport the passenges gave a well deserved round of applause to the captain, the crew, and Jesus himself(still spelled the same but now pronounced hesus).
We walked of the plane and immediately stood out in a sea of dark haired Ecuadorians. Eic could have been mistaken for a local if not for his towering 6´2´´ frame while Ken with red hair and me with black (Morena) skin stood no chance.
The airport was surprising clean and effiient and seemed much like Denver un benownsed to us this temporary shelter did not parralel Quito´s true charicter but rather masked it.
The three of us made our way to the luggage carousel (with matching small backpacks). Grabbed our luggage which had arrived on time, unscathed, and unopened.
We took a ride straight to our hostel ¨CASA BAMBU¨. The airport of Quito is located in the middl of the city so we were bombarded with the harsh climate of any major metropolitan area. the three of us rode excitedly in the taxi with windows rolled down. We inhaled the abundant deisel smoke and watched as motorists weaved their way through traffic with careful wrecklessness. a smorgishboard of people, cars, police and vendors assaulted our senses with sweet pans of bread and buckets of putrid fish. The streets themselves are extremely confusing because of the mountainous region. In the 5 minute trip to the Hostal I confided in Ken that I was sure we were driving in circles. We arrived at our Hostal and were greeted by a magnicent view of the whole city as well as an exceptionally exotic and good looking women. Our confidence was put to rest as soon as we tried to inform her that we had a reservation.. in Spanish. Although it was evident that she understood some english she seemed to enjoy watching the three of us stumble over words and try to talk over each other to relay the simple message. After what must have been two hours, we received our Keys and began unpacking our bags and praying to Allah, Jesus, and the Pope that we had packed all the essentials, from ipods to the 8 cans of bugspray and of course our Passportes. Our first day in Quito had ended in some minor successes. First, none of us had been raped, robbed, or killed. second, we had been let into the country, and third we all maintained the enthusium and often accompanied naivity that blossoms in the opening moments of an adventure.


permalink written by  apollo8583 on August 26, 2009 from Quito, Ecuador
from the travel blog: South America and Back?
tagged Quito

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The Homestay!

Quito, Ecuador


The homestay was a little awkward from day one, but this was an obvious, expected, and even welcomed transgression from the norm. It was a monday and I had just finished my first day of school with my teacher, Mercedes. Lunchbox and locker combination in hand I was introduced to my adoptive family. I had received an email about my family but was given very basic information and I wondered what information the family had recieved about me. Did they know that my spanish was equivalent to that of a 4 year old, or that I was black, or, most importantly, that I liked to eat large amounts of food.
I knew that My mother was my senor by two years and my brother was a 14 month old baby but thats about it. I met my father at one of the three gates required to enter the house and couldn´t help wondering if he had any qaulms about letting a 26 year old stranger live and eat with his wife and child.
My father introduced himself and gave me a quick tour of the house. I met Lourdes, my mother, and Gabrielle, my brother, later. They seemed to be happy family and it was quite obvious that little Gabrielle required a lot of time and energy. I was okay with this and was happy that there was a least one person that I could outwit at the dinner table. It was interesting to watch this fourteen monther try to communicate his needs without words. And in all honesty I was more sympathetic and aware to his learning because I identified with his frustrations with language and the importance of non-verbals.
The first nights dinner was interesting and sufficiently uncomfortable. My biggest fear was the food rather than the conversation but that insight was ass backward. As soon as I would open my mouth a series of ¨huh¨and ¨ummms¨ would spill out. A rudamentary sentence was usually answered with a rambling of varous pronouns,verbs, interjections, and , most likely, made up gibberish. While communication was offered with best intentions, their accent and use of various verb forms seemed to dull my senses and a gave me the reaction time of a 90 year old man with a hearing aid. My replies were frustratingly short and at times painfully long as I would search my brain for the right word and the family would patiently wait for me to finish my four word sentence. This became our relationship, in part because of my slow progression but also because of the families rather hectic lifestyle. The most frustrating part of the whole engagement was my inability to tell a story, describe an event, or tell a joke.
To any and all that feel self confident and rather sure of themselves within social circumstances I recommend a homestay. It will induce immediate humility and will ensure that your mind is constantly engaged and you maintain (or develop) an apetite to learn. As I stumbled over spanish words that wpuld result in spanish throwup I would imagine Gearge Bush ( pronounced Jorge Bush) trying to communicate his basic needs at the cognitive level of a six year old. I wonder if there is a translation for his signature hee-haws and Texan mumbles.


permalink written by  apollo8583 on August 22, 2009 from Quito, Ecuador
from the travel blog: South America and Back?
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Mitad Del Mundo

Quito, Ecuador


Our first week in Ecuador has been QUITO an experience. Our spanish grows by leaps and bounds. We are constantly confronted by words from the dizzying array of signs, the pushy shopkeepers, and not to mention the unrelenting inn keepers. It is a long ardous process that in all reality will take a year to complete and that is if I maintain my original zest and desire to become "bi-lingual".
Witha self-assuradness that only Americans can possess we (the three amigos) decided to make a trip to the middle of the earth or the Equatorial line, known better as Mitad del Mundo. We hopped aboard a bus and headed out to the main bus station as detailed in the " Lonely Planet" guide book. After a few confussing moments of missed busses, and wrong stops we boarded the correct bus and headed the 40 kilometers to the line. As we traveled north from the city all of Quito was spread before us. The small squatt buildings seemed to be jockeying for position on the valley floors. Most building were single or doubles and what they lack in structurally integrity they make up for in charicter. A bright array of Yellows, oranges, and blues were speckled throughout the city. The clean cookie cutter houses of Denver became a distant memory as we wound through the barios, slowing to let stray dogs saunter across the streets or let an elderly Indigina amble in front of the bus.
The bus itself seemed to mimic the colorful city through wich we traveled. While the driver swerved like a drunk 16 year old through the Quito country side his friend would travel throughout the bus collecting money from the patrons and insure that we were comfortable. I was able to put my spanish to use as a young lady sat beside me with a live but docile Chicken. After much stammering , handgestures, and repitition I learned that she lived nearby village and had bought the chicken for four dollars.
A good 50 minutes later we shuffled off the bus onto the dusty stop and headed to the Mitad Del Mundo entrance. We payed the two dollar charge and were ushered into the large park. A giant yellow line ran down the middle and at one end was a giant Museum and sculpture proclaiming that this was the equator. After a few quick pictures we were off to the real Mitad del Mundo. Apparently, after the invention of GPS it was discovered that the equatorial line was in fact 300 meters from the statue. We took a dirt trail some 300 meters and were greated by an exceptional museum, scientific experiment, and guide. The three of us choose to take the tour in Spanish rather than English and were rewarded with headaches some 30 minutes later. We learned of the various indigenous people of the region and of all there unique customes such as shrunken heads, and that the males use to tie their miembres (penises) pointing up winding string around their waists to keep it snuggly in place. I asked for some string but was denied. The tour concluded with some very interesting experiments. First we gatherered around as our 5´2´´ guide informed us that the line has some very perplexing powers which she would demonstrate to us . A reluctant volunteer was told to clasp his hands together overhead and stand several feet from the line. Our tour guide then reached up and was unable to move his arms downward. The volunteer than moved to the line and this time the guide was able to easily push his arms down. Next we addressed the swirling water myth. A large basin full of wated was drained on either side of the line so that we could witness the clockwise and counter-clockwise swirl. Sure enough when the basin was on the line the water went straight down. The tour ended with egg balancing done on the head of the nail. Overall, we were impressed and glad that we had chosen to travel the 300 meters.


permalink written by  apollo8583 on August 13, 2009 from Quito, Ecuador
from the travel blog: South America and Back?
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