Something is rotten in the state of Casa de Isabel - not long after I woke up this morning, there was a workman hacking and drilling away down the hall, tracking plaster dust everywhere. I learned that there´s something wrong with the plumbing, and the most immediate way that effects me is that my bathroom has no hot water. Oh well, if I can live through an ice-cold shower in a Connecticut winter, one in Quito probably won´t do me too much damage.
After breakfast, I went out for a walk in Parque Carolina. According to the guidebook, Parque Carolina is even larger than Central Park, and I can believe it - just beyond the tree line on the border, there are huge playing fields and bike paths, not to mention the Museo de las Ciencias Naturales. This was my destination, but I arrived only to find out that the guidebook lied to me, and the museum isn´t open on Saturdays.
I wanted to upload my photos from Friday, so I went walking in search of an Internet cafe, and it turned out to be a very good thing I got started early. Photobucket only allows you to upload 20 photos at once, so uploading several hundred took several hours, combined with the fact that my computer´s Net connection died toward the end. By the time I was finished with everything, I´d been online for over 5 hours, and my neck and back both ached from looking up at the wall-mounted screen.
I wobbled back home, where I learned that the water still wasn´t fixed, and flopped down for the rest of the day.
Day 14: Ain´t No Mountain High Enough
The hot water still hadn´t returned this morning, so I woke myself up with a nice icy deluge. Isabel and I chatted over breakfast, talking about what tourist spots I´d visited, and I had an awkward moment trying to think of the Spanish word for Unitarianism, since Isabel had asked if I was Catholic due to my visiting all the churches. I actually consider myself agnostic these days, but since Ecuador is over 90% Roman Catholic, I plan to say I´m a Unitarian, "un tipo de cristianismo", while I´m here, in the hope of making things go more smoothly.
As we were finishing breakfast, Isabel asked if I´d gone on the Teleferrico up the mountain yet. I hadn´t, so she gave me directions on how to get a tour bus up there, which I followed later that morning.
It was quite an adventure. First I had to take the Trole to its station at the end of the line, and then I had to ask about a bus there. The bus I found . . . ´bus´ is really too grand a word for it, since it was actually a van, and I was squeezed in the back corner without even room to put my knees down. But once we got to the Teleferrico station, all went well - I bought my ticket, then waited in the remarkably short line until the next car arrived.
For those who´ve ridden up the mountain in Palm Desert, California with me, it´s similar to that, but better, because the cars have seats and 360-windows. I rode with a family who had two little boys, and the older boy and I were hard at work taking photos as we rode up the mountain.
Up at the top, I truly realized we were up 12000+ feet as soon as the car door opened. It was probably close to 80 degrees down in Quito, but up there, I seriously doubt it was above 60. There was a station matching the one below, with a number of delis and souvenir shops, and that was where I headed first: I ended up buying several very pretty scarves as presents for those back home.
After shopping, I headed out onto the path to see the view and take photos. This place was a true tourist spot - I think there were just as many English speakers as Spanish ones, not to mention a group from one of the East Asian countries. The path curves along the mountain´s top for maybe half a mile, and you can see the peaks of Pichincha and that set nearby, as well as gorgeous views of Quito below. The only difficulty is that it´s a mostly uphill walk, so with the thinner air it can be hard going.
Eventually I reached a spot where you could ride horses to keep going, and knew it was time to head back. I took some more photos, then rode the Teleferrico back down the mountain, and tried to find a bus or taxi to take me back to the Trole station. I ended up hitching a ride in a horrifically crowded bus down to the parking lot, where several tourist ladies brought me into their midst and commandeered a guard to drive all of us to the station in a van (none of it was my idea, I swear).
Since it was only midafternoon, I decided to go check out the Museo de Banco Central, an archaeological museum about the region, which the guidebook called a must-see. When I got there, I only had an hour to visit, but what I saw in that time was plenty - native pottery and gold as far as the eye could see. Some of the jewelry pieces looked very painful to wear, particularly the earrings that were oval rings of gold as long as my hand and almost as thick as my finger. I did particularly like that they had a mannequin wearing some of the gold and clothing - so many museums don´t show you how the stuff actually looks on a person.
It was raining heavily when I left the museum, so I retreated to a McDonalds to snack and wait for it to pass. Food was had, but the rain did not pass, so I walked back to the Trole and went home, a damp and tired mess, but feeling that I had been what my mother calls "a good little tourist".
Photos:
My car arrives.
Going up the mountain.
Me riding in the car.
We´ve come a long way.
Where the treeline ends.
Some views.
Me in various locales. I´m squinting in a lot of these because it was very windy.
More views.
"The road goes ever on and on . . ."
Day 15: She´s Got Everything Delightful
Still no hot water. This is becoming a serious problem, because I need to wash my hair, and I have so much of it that I would die of hypothermia before I finished washing it in water this cold.
Things didn´t improve when I got to La Lengua. Pilar called in sick (I hope she´s all right, because they didn´t tell me what was wrong), so they foisted one of the other teachers on me. When I started working with her, I realized just how fortunate I´ve been with Pilar. The replacement teacher talks to me in the kind of sugary, simplistic style people use on little kids - most little kids don´t like it, and I definitely don´t like it. She also has an annoying habit of finishing sentences my read-aloud sentences before I´ve finished reading them, not giving me a chance to try the pronounciation myself. I really, really hope Pilar gets better soon, both for her sake and for mine.
After escaping the substitute, I went to Libri Mundi, a bookstore that the guidebook claims is the best one in Ecuador. I´d hoped to find my dad´s favorite books in Spanish, as a present, but only managed to find a few that I knew he liked. There doesn´t seem to be much of a demand for novels in Ecuadorian bookstores.
I went back to Isabel´s for lunch, and then headed out to explore the artisans´market Pilar took me to on Friday, stopping by the bank for cash on the way. I went a little crazy on the buying, I think, because I saw so many things I knew people would like - jewelry for my mom and grandmother, another scarf and fun socks for whoever wants them, a colorful bag to carry it all in, and finally the thing I´ve been searching for: a sunhat!
Goodies in tow, I braved my first bus ride down to the mall, where I dried off from the rain with a Cinnabon. Thus refreshed, I returned to Isabel´s to look over my loot, and to start thinking about travel.
Day 16: Poor Unfortunate Souls
And lo, the hot water has returned to dwell among us! I finally had a proper shower, and then headed off to La Lengua.
Pilar still isn´t back, and my opinion of the substitute hasn´t improved. She´s quite a bit of an airhead, and for discussion, she keeps bringing up subjects that I´m very uncomfortable talking about. For example, on Saturday there was a fire at a Goth concert, started when someone set off fireworks inside the building, and several teenagers were killed. The substitute told that a number of priests had said the fire was a punishment to the concert-goers from God, and then she asked me if I agreed with that (I said that I thought setting off fireworks inside was a stupid thing to do, but that I didn´t think it was divine punishment). I caught a glimpse of Pilar in the common room during tea break, but didn´t really get a chance to talk to her - I hope she´s feeling better.
One of the places I´ve wanted to visit is La Capilla del Hombre, a nondenominational chapel/art site created by Oswaldo Guayasamin, a famous artist. The trouble is that I couldn´t find the streets where it´s located on my city map, so over lunch, I asked Miguel for help, and he pointed out one of the streets to me.
I say one of the streets, because La Capilla is literally off the map. It didn´t look very far, though, so after lunch I started out. I walked, and I walked, and then for a change of pace, I walked some more. It turns out that the reason there are so few streets in that section is because it´s up on the mountain slope, so I was walking steeply uphill for nearly a mile. But I kept on going, and finally, just as the city stopped and the road continued into the forest, I found La Capilla.
I took some photos of the outside, but it´s the inside that´s really spectacular: a giant gallery of Guayasamin´s paintings. And the paintings! His theme is the suffering of the Andean natives at the hands of the Spanish, so his art is mostly depictions of weeping, starvation, mutilation, and other scenes of misery, all done in an extremely frightening charicatured style and in dark, sickly colors. I got a lot of inspiration for some of my scarier novels-in-progress. At the center of it all is a gigantic painting titled "El toro y condor", a condor attacking a bull (representing the Andeans overthrowing the Spanish), done in black and silver and red. I could have sneaked in a photo of it, since the guards weren´t there, but I decided not to risk it.
After exploring the grounds of the chapel a bit more, I started walking back down the mountain. Fortunately, a taxi found me before I´d gone far, and I rode to the mall for another Cinnabon.
Back at Casa de Isabel, I finally got my hair washed, and then decided to save time and start packing tonight. Roc told me Isabel can hold onto things I don´t want to bring with me to Salango - I wonder if she´ll hold onto the bag of presents?
Photos:
Some sculptures.
The view from the roof walkway.
The "dude being torn apart by horses" sculpture.
Day 17: I Know Where My Towel Is
I normally wait until the day is finish to write up an entry, but since I don´t know when I´ll next have Net access, I thought I´d get today done.
The day started on a scary note, when I couldn´t find my raincoat. I tried to mentally retrace my steps as I went to La Lengua for the last time, and when they hadn´t seen it there, I feared I´d left it on the bus or at the mall (I couldn´t see myself being that careless, but it seemed the only possibility). Once again, the substitute tried to make me uncomfortable with discussion topics, asking what I thought about the Spanish conquest and the cultural changes the US was making on Ecuador - I tried to get out of it by saying it wasn´t something I´d studied (which isn´t true) and that I didn´t know enough Spanish to explain my thoughts, and eventually she let me alone. At least I don´t have to work with her anymore.
I bought the next two textbooks in the La Lengua set, so I can keep practicing, and made a detour back to the artisans´market to buy more of the elastic headband-scarves I found there on Monday. I ended up buying eight of them, all in different colors - they´re cheap, and easier to deal with than a full scarf.
Back at Casa de Isabel, I discovered that I hadn´t lost my raincoat after all. The staff had taken it away and washed it without telling me, and it was now hanging in my closet once again. Relieved, I had a late lunch, and then went out to upload photos and type this.
Things still to do:
- Call Roc and make sure of the timing tomorrow.
- Call family and touch base.
- Pay Isabel and ask about leaving things in storage.
- Finish packing.
When next I write, I´ll be down on the coast. Wish me luck!
