Cajas For A Day

We all foresaw the inevitable fallout. I apologize for the lack of posts, but being on the internet has been less of a concern as I've gotten more acclimated to Cuenca and far more busy. They won't cease completely, but I think I'll plan on just sending out an email when I post now to make sure there are no dry blog-checks.

Yesterday I went with my friend Bob, an old fart from Colorado, to Cajas National Park. We were at about 10 or 11 thousand feet and it was very wet and humid. Strange, considering how remarkably dry the Rockies are. It was beautiful, as you can see in the attached photos. We went with a guide and about a dozen other people, almost none of whom spoke English. As it happened, I practiced my Spanish all day and it was great. Exhausting but great. It was the first time I really noticed a difference in my language since I got here because it was the first time I'd spoken for more than 20 minutes straight in Spanish. I really need to get away from the other Gringos.

The park was spectacular. More lakes than you can shake a stick at and lots of waterfalls. The mountains are much more steep than I'm used to. They shoot up sharply from the ground and in many places they look nearly impossible to scale. I was amazed at how much sun affected the temperature of the air. When a cloud would pass over the sun for even a few minutes I'd put on my jacket. I swear the temperature on our hike varied at least 20 degrees.

It was great to be out of the city. I hadn't left Cuenca since I got here almost 4 weeks ago and being in the city was starting to get to me. As I hiked I tried to listen to some music on my iPod but Bob wouldn't let it happen. "Good Scott! Why don't you tune the whole world out? You're in the mountains, hearing the river and the birds, but it doesn't even matter. We're just the people you're hiking with, we're not important." I told him to go crawl under a rock, but what he said was, clearly, something I'd say to Steve if we were hiking so I succumbed to pressure and pocketed my ear buds. Sigh.

One of the people on the trip was a 5 year old girl named Daniela who was absolutely terrified of me. I asked her if it was my beard that scared her, or my pale skin, but I came to find out that its because mothers here tell their children that Gringos eat kids. It was not the first time I'd heard this rumor, either. Merian, the woman with whom I spoke the most, explained that for centuries mothers have told their children that if someone has light skin and green or blue eyes they should be careful. Historically speaking, I think I can understand the fear and reservation, but I'm not sure how the cannibalism thing started. I think this dates back to a time when white people mistreated people of other races in the world. Thank goodness that doesn't happen anymore!

Anyway, when we had climbed a grueling mountain and were relaxing in the sun, drinking water and scarfing down sandwiches, Bob offered Daniela a slice of apple and -without warning- we had her complete trust. From then on she talked and talked, and on the bus ride home she kept trying to grab my nose. I tried to take little offense, but my nose is a little oddly shaped, I suppose. After awhile her brother new I was getting a bit annoyed and said, "comes niños, Daniela" and she went back to hiding. And the lies continue...

Pig Hooves and Cow Stomach Linings

On Sunday afternoon I was walking with my new friend Tom when I casually remarked about the weather. It had not rained since the previous Monday. And by that I mean it hadn't rained much. Don't be mistaken: it rains every day, but the showers had been brief and light and the rest of the days had been sunny and cool. Dress shirt and jeans by day, jacket by night, no umbrella necessary.

The casual remark might have been a mistake because Monday the clouds rolled over the mountains and its been primarily overcast since, save the early mornings. Rain has been consistent in the evenings. Perhaps we were just having a respite. The rainy season is in full swing and apparently the heaviest rains fall in April and May. June, I hear, is spectacular.

Nevertheless its hasn't been a bad week. I've enjoyed my classes, started a spanish class of my own, and have had plenty of time to cook and relax. The terrace, I'm sad to say, has been largely inaccessible due to weather, but the mornings are usually clear enough to do some stretches and exercises in the sun. There is a rooster, living atop a nearby building, who I fear might be narcoleptic. He crows incessantly, and its not just when the sun comes out either. It's just about every 5 minutes each morning. Maybe this is normal. This Okie never lived on a farm.

This looks to be another grand weekend. The founding of Cuenca is April 12 (Saturday) and supposedly this city really comes alive. Cuenca will be 451 years old and I wish it all the best. My birthday follows two days after this, which makes me feel admittedly miffed. Oh well. I'll try to make the best of it, maybe ride the coattails of the city and pretend it's all about me.

P.S. The title of this post is in reference to the lunches I ate the past two days. Not as delicious as it sounds, nor as funny. Kinda pissed me off, actually. Serves me right for not knowing how to read the menu. Oh, and the photo is a view of my building from across the river. My terrace is above those orange umbrellas. The other picture is a shot down the river walkway. Obviously a nice place to take a stroll when its sunny.

It's not a ball!

Next to me at my desk lie a satchel and an umbrella, neither of which are mine. These are remnants of last night's house-warming party, left by guests as they scurried down the street to the opening of a new bar/art gallery. By then I was massively tired and knew I wouldn't possibly be able to keep up.

At about 4:30 I went to the market with a couple friends to buy goods for our feast. I kept my eye out for a woman at the market who hates me. A few days ago I threw one of her tomatoes into the air and caught it and she snapped at me. No es una pelota! she screamed. Her friend just laughed but I couldn't get a grin out of her.

Our original plan was to have about 10 people over and fix a copious amount of Italian food. Unfortunately, there was no eggplant for the eggplant parmesan so we had to figure something out on the fly. We bought avocados, onions, tomatoes, a giant mango, strawberries, a pineapple, some limes, bread, beer, parsley we mistook for cilantro, oregano, plantains, ketchup, chips and chili powder. What transpired was a bountiful feast. Friends brought drinks and we gorged ourselves on guacamole and chips, tomato bruschetta with bread, fruit salad and fried plantains with ketchup (a personal favorite).

We watched basketball (explaining the rules and such to those silly Brits who can't understand why the world needs another sport than Football) and made merry. After that we took our drinks up to the terrace, looked out over the river and the city and enjoyed ourselves. It was quite a time.

This city is mostly shut down on Sundays. There are a few stores open every now and then, maybe a bakery, a cafe or a little shop, but for the most part people go to church and then head to the parks where there is live music and much to do. Today I went with Rory, a nice Londoner, to the river where we walked in the grass and talked about the IRA. After a spell we found an awesome kinda sunny spot to relax and I parked myself against a rock and pulled out Salinger to read while he more or less snoozed between bouts of Nick Hornsy. Not a bad way to spend a spectacular Sunday afternoon.

It's great not having a cellphone here. All the social activities happen in the moment or are planned ahead. There's plenty of dropping by and no calling. However, most everyone here is getting a cellphone so it may only be a matter of time until I buy a $3 card for my phone. We'll see.

The Sound of Settling

After living out of a suitcase for a week I finally settled into a place. While small, it's beautiful and very nice. The shower is spacious and the view from atop the building is nothing short of spectacular. If my internet connection were stronger I'd upload a video but for now the photo will have to suffice.

I started teaching Monday, and my classes are great. They're also very small. I have 3 classes and about 10 kids total. It's almost more like tutoring than teaching. Anyhow, 2 of the three courses are upper level English classes called Comparative Cultures. We'll be watching films in English, reading short stories and writing a lot. There are no text books so I'm basically doing what I want as long as they fulfill a few writing requirements. This week the film is Into The Wild. One of my students, a 15 year old boy, cried. The film is heartbreakingly sad and the experience was pretty intense. As they left the classroom I promised that none of the other films we watch will be so heavy. I think we're watching either Supersize Me or Remember The Titans next week.

My other class is a medium level kids class. My students are around the age of 12. They're funny and a bit wild, but they seem to be decent language-learners. I've told them that the class is a No-Spanish Zone, and we keep tallies on the board of who speaks Spanish the most. The idea is that at the end of the day the person who has the most tallies has to stand in front of the class and sing a song. Yesterday none of them said a word in Spanish. I, however, did twice, so I sang Oklahoma! at the top of my lungs. Needless to say they enjoyed this thoroughly.

The idea of watching Supersize Me caused me to notice that there are actually no McDonalds in Cuenca. There is Pizza Hut and KFC, but no McDonalds. It's kind of nice, actually. The second day we were here the school ordered Pizza Hut for our meeting. It tasted peculiar, but I haven't had PH in a long time so that might be normal.

Today I'm going to the market to buy lots of fruits and vegetables. I have a couple friends who have been already and hopefully can keep me from being scammed. I really don't know the going price for a mango or potato and I'm sure I look like a lost Gringo. Hopefully this evening my kitchen will be stocked with produce. Later I'm heading to the Supermaxi, a woefully depressing supermarket that feels like a marginally executed version of Safeway. But many necessities (namely, olive oil, pasta, nuts, and libations) are not as readily available elsewhere.

That's all I've got. Tomorrow night I'm having other teachers over for dinner. We'll go up on the terrace, eat Italian food and drink wine. It's going to be great. I'll let you know how it goes...