All is well in Cuenca… and the spanish is… well still coming along. I’ve settled into a routine here in town. First, see what the protesters are up to first thing on the way to school (they’re back!). Be in school for 4 hours until 12:30. Check in on the protest on the way back from school. Either cook lunch at the hostal or eat at a restaurant for one or two dollars, relax in the hostal’s garden for a bit. Then off to the café for a little homework time, spend some time in the park, and something social in the evening… It’s just lovely. It hasn’t even rained for quite a few days…
This weekend was an interesting adventure. On Sunday I headed off with my german and swiss friends, and ended up meeting up with the owner of the pizzeria in town (who I think is smitten with the swiss.) Anyway we headed to the bus station to go to the neighboring town of Gualaceo. There is a huge market in town on Sundays and it’s about an hour bus ride away. So after maneuvering the ticket situation, paying an additional 10 cents to get through the turnstile from the ticket area to the bus (you would think that they could make that part of the ticket, but no, you pay again), we hopped on the bus. It makes me a little nervous that twice now the men sitting next to me cross themselves when the buses leave the station. Pero, eso es.
Gualaceo was interesting, and the market really was huge. I think there was a line of about 20 vendors each with a whole cooked pig, selling most all the parts directly from it. Nothing makes you want to have a little snack like seeing that… From Gualaceo we walked the 5 km (+/-) to Chordeleg. We opted not to take the main highway, as it was pretty narrow and wound its way up and over the hill between the two towns. It was an interesting trek, and Luis, the pizza shop owner, kept asking if we were headed in the right direction, and amazingly, we were lead directly to the town. We took one path that a kid and his two sheep were coming off of. Rarely do things go that well.
Chordeleg had a beautiful plaza and is known for its jewelry work. We spent a little time wandering the plaza, and decided to move on to one more town. While we waited for the bus, a couple of kids came up to shine our shoes. Well, not my shoes, but the leather shoes in the group. We had an interesting little chat with the kids, they go to school during the week, but shine shoes on the weekend. They didn’t seem to be too upset that they couldn’t go and play, one of the kids said – no, he had to work some because his dad was an alcoholic. It was very interesting.
Anyway, the next town, Sigsig, is known for its little beach by the river. Sounded good to me. The bus pulled into the plaza and we got a bit of food, and headed down to the river. There were a bunch of people on the street, and we definitely stood out as the only white kids in town, so it was no surprise we were hit by water.
Let me explain. It seems as though in the days (or the entire month) leading up to Carnival, the kids (and the men that like to act like kids) throw waterballoons and squirt water guns, generally at women/girls walking on the sidewalk. The more woman and the louder they scream, the better… you never know where they are coming from, because they throw balloons from balconies, from cars, from buses, the stores. Anywhere. What in the world.
Good thing is was warm out. And the german with us grabbed the little boy with the water gun, turned it on his sister and his family that was enjoying the spectacle of us getting wet. She got them pretty good. So all’s fair in love and Carnival.
The river ended up being quite a ways down from the center of town, but we were lucky enough to find a willing pickup give us a lift down to the river, and back up (even better!) we spent an hour or so just eating, sleeping and relaxing by the river, which was obviously The Destination Spot for the Ecuadorian families.
From there it was a fairly uneventful, but beautiful bus ride home through the Andes – although there is still a problem with landslides. I don’t think it would have been a two hour ride if we didn’t have to dodge so many rocks in the road.
And the day was finished off with a Sunday family meal at the hostal. Between walking, traveling, being in the sun, and speaking Spanish all day – I was exhausted.
So. Yeah. Everything’s good, the experiences continue to be surprising.
Lots of love to home…
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