Lessons

I met a girl named Maria Paula last night. She had an English test today and asked me to help her with her lessons. An hour later, she gave me a pair of earrings for helping her. How nice! This morning I went to her store to help her cram, but she wasn't there. Of course not...the North American concept of time does not exist here. I keep forgetting! She told me to show up early in the morning, so I was there before 10 am. Early to her is probably half an hour before the test!

It's such a different life here. No rush, as though time doesn't exist. Twenty minutes means 3 hours. You can spend the day doing nothing and you're not alone! I don't know if the schedule I kept in NYC would ever fly here. Course, it didn't fly with a lot of my friends in NYC either!?! It's just different. I don't know if you could find 2 jobs here with consistent need for work, coordinate the hours between the two and count on there being work every shift you were scheduled. You work often enough when there is work & when there's none, you don't work. Except on the finca. They always had work to do!

On the beach different vendors have different styles. They all call their goods but one with a bell, one a whistle, others simply rely on their personalities or smiles. This morning, 10:15 am, one of the beer vendors did his best, but damn! It's barely 10 am!

Ok. So today I miss karaoke. And I miss my neighborhood. Not that I'm that much of a settler, but when I get back, I hope to settle in a bit. To appreciate life, my time, work toward being a better human being. One can hope.

Random Rocky

Last night, I dreamt that I had to do a project for Ms. Woodruff, my elemetary school P.E. teacher. She was petite but looked like she packed one hell of a punch. If you got on her bad side, your only hope was to be able to make her laugh. By any means necessary. Once she cracked a smile, in the clear. In the dream I had to construct a paper mache Rocky. Enter theme song music...yep, the top of the steps and all. In my dream it was a decoupage Rocky, whatever the hell that stuff is...

Is there a new Rocky out or something? Someone help a girl out!

Second tan

I woke up early again today...something about the beach. And I love waking up early! Or I should say, I love waking up early when I don´t have to!! I was on the beach by 9 AM. The vendors struck again, but this time I had an arsenal of nos locked & loaded. It was like I was at a local carnival...the vendors passing one by one and me and my pellet gun shot em down! Only I didn´t win any prizes. They had the same bills of goods as Cartagena--massages, necklaces, beer, ceviche. I packed a little lunch & some fruit so I could spend the whole day in the sun. My first tan peeled a bit, so I´m working on the second.

El Rodadero is nothing all that spectacular either, except that the water is clear & calm. The Caribbean. The hotels are a bit in disrepair, the restaurants mostly of plastic chairs and tables. But I am glad to be here. I´ve yet to meet the beach of my dreams where I can sleep in a hut or hammock on the beach and eat seafood fresh out of the sea right there. No restaurant, no waiter, just me and the cook or fisherman. It´s an off-the-beaten-path find usually and most of the places I´ve been in Colombia have been tourist spots. Maybe in Peru...

El Rodadero

Apparently, Santa Marta is the town center but not the main spot. It´s nice but a bit industrial for my taste. The maritime port is just to the right of the main beach and there are lots of barges. There is an island in the bay that I hope to swim to. It´s probably a mile each way...yikes. I swam a mile once when I was in Dynamos, a year-round swim club for young swimmers. I wasn't quite so serious after a year or two. A heated pool with 50 other kids swimming hand-to-toe in the middle of winter wasn´t my idea of fun. In the pool, eveyone´s faces look like tomatoes, it´s so hot. The moment you´re out of the pool, you freeze!

I read about an area near here, El Rodadero. It´s supposed to be the fun happening spot, so I headed there. On the bus, I missed the stop and had to pay half the way on the return trip. Earth to Anne. Just out of the bus, the locals got me. Apartment? Lunch? Beer? I guess people assume I can´t read or maybe that I don´t have a plan yet. They follow you as you make your way hoping they can help direct you to a friend's hotel or restaurant where they can collect their finder´s fee. Nope. Not gonna happen here. Kids on bikes, that's one thing. Old men with no teeth drinking beer on the corner...just don't trust it.

I found a great place, Tima Uraka. I could have stayed in the center of the tourist area for the same price but am happy to have a little peace and quiet. The hustle & bustle is only a 5 minute walk. The Tima Uraka has hammocks, flowers, lounges and the manager lives in the house with her son. My sheets are moons, stars & suns. I´m upstairs looking down into the garden. The kitchen is available for use too and they have free bottled water. Score! Only downside is that I have to leave Sunday. It´s the start of Semana Santa, the Easter holy week. I´m going to be up a creek with prices wherever I end up...

Santa Marta

From Cartagena, I´m headed east to Santa Marta. It´s supposed to have the most beautiful beaches in Colombia and a great atmosphere. The bus driver overcharged me for the fare. It gets old paying more, most times double what everyone else pays. People just assume that because you´re a foreigner, you´ve got the cash to burn. Fine. I may have made more money in a month in NYC than a lot of people make in a year, but dang! I was working seven days a week and shouldn´t the price of something be the price regardless of where you´re from? Guess not. And what can I do? Either take the trip or go a different route.

Santa Marta is dead for the moment. Colombia and Paraguay are playing. I´m amazed I could get a taxi from the bus terminal! I found a decent hotel in the center of Santa Marta. It's one street off the main drag. And, holy cow, did people want my money!?! One hotel offered a room with 8 beds for dirt cheap. Just seemed a little desperate. Another the same, but for even less money. Sure I´ll save a few bucks but, really, I just need one bed. My room has leaves painted on the walls...how charming!

Cartagena in history

Last night I danced at a bar called Donde Fidel. I danced in the street, not actually in the bar. The beer of choice is Aguila, eagle beer. Oh! I forgot! There was a bald eagle living at the finca as well! Young but still fierce.

Early to rise, I explored Cartagena. There is so much history here. The old city was walled in to serve as protection from pirates. The city withstood attacks for centuries. It serves as a main port still and was a major port during slave trade times and throughout Spanish colonization. There is also a hall that dates back to the Spanish Inquisition. I took a class in college on Law, Crime & Society in early modern Europe and we talked a great deal about the Inquisition. The crimes and corresponding punisments. I'm guessing that Cartagena may in fact be in large part a cememtery, for natives of Cartagena, pirates who attacked it, slaves who were traded here, Spanish conquistadors...

The main catheral was erected in the 16th century. The ceiling has exposed rafters that look like stripes of cafe and white. So much of the crafts here are striped brown and white. It's lovely and particular to Colombia. Photos are forbidden in the cathedral, but it doesn't say that anywhere...you're just supposed to know, I guess. Oops. Outside the cathedral is a plaza with vendors. I had some of the best pineapple I've had in life today from a woman selling fruit.

Several words created by school kids in Colombia were officially added to the Spanish language. There is a huge celebration and tour going on about language in general. Gabriel Garcia Marquez is supposed to be involved. I'm not sure of all the details but there is quite a buzz in Cartagena.

Beach day

To the beach!! As much as friends have commented that I look like a native lately, I'm still bait for vendors. On the beach, not 15 minutes after I'd secured an umbrella, I got accosted by a girl giving massages. It starts out as a trial period, just a foot massage, and before you know it, you're covered from head to toe in lotion and there are 7 people offering you things. Fresh crab & conch ceviche, necklaces, beer, beach sarongs. I told them all no at least 5 times, but apparently they have yet to get the ¨no means no¨ lesson. So I got up from the spot, covered in lotion, 2 braids in my hair, having tried a crab and a few oysters--all free, according to the vendors--and left without paying anyone. The umbrella vendor asked me to pay but, frankly, I wasn't about to pull out my wallet and flash any cash to anyone. I found a more secluded spot and settled in, after checking with the local lifeguard to be sure I wouldn't be bothered there. He said that the cops cruise this part of the beach more as well, so I'd be all good to enjoy some sun. Great. A little piece of the Atlantic. The water is blue and green and the beer is cold.

The bus to Cartagena

Now, I've taken some bus rides in my lifetime. Three days & 20 hours from Salem, Oregon to Atlanta, Georgia. A frightening 4.5 hours on the Fung Wah from NYC to Boston. And the 20 hours from Armenia to Cartagena, that one was no breeze either. The chairs recline sure enough and there is a foot rest to make you more comfortable as well but both efforts are in vain. The road entire way is a real lulu! You bounce more than ride those 20 hours, your head banging against the window. I don't mind buses, lord knows I've been on quite a few this trip, but this one was the most difficult. There are a few stops along the way, glory be, but the bouncing makes sleep next to impossible. The only regret I have this trip is that I forgot to bring a book to read! The surefire way to sleep on a bus, plane...not to mention you can make trades everywhere! Oh, well. At least I'll get some good sleep tonight.

After seeing a bit of Cartagena, I'm glad I made the 20 hour trip. Old world feel of balconies overflowing with flowers, huge plazas with statues and monuments, cathedrals and gardens, it's gorgeous. Cartagena is a rough 30 minutes from the bus terminal. The taxis were curt with me so I took the bus for 1600 pesos, about $0.80, $5 in savings. Speaking of money, a friend (who shall remain nameless) called me stingy on the phone the other day. The nerve! Then I thought about it. Am I stingy? And I've decided. No. I'm not stingy. I don't mind a good deal but I'm certinaly no penny-pincher. And besides, this friend is always the one who asks to split the check in restaurants, only to short the tax and tip. Quick jab, quick jab. Ahem! Cartagena is amazing once you get to the center. The trek in from the terminal isn't much to look at, but once you may it to the center, the city comes alive. I haven't read much about Cartagena yet, no guidebooks for Colombia, so I'm not sure what I'm looking at yet but soon!

Heaven

The brown calf died late last night or early this morning. After breakfast, I was walking toward the goats and cows and the señor who lives at the finca was following me with a wheelbarrow. Nothing out of the ordinary, I figured he needed to move a coffee plant or move something. Turned out he was going to bury the calf. The calf looked like a Bernard to me. How sad. The black calf has been crying most of the day for his brother. You can hear the grief in his wails.

The bill paid at the finca, the señora cooked one last meal, on the house. Eating at the finca was unbelievable. I ate breakfast and dinner every day and that was pretty much it. Breakfast varied but usually had eggs, rice & beans, arepas, hot chocolate, coffee and fresh-squeezed juice--all included in the price per night. Dinner starts with soup, then the main course: rice, plantains, meat, a fresh salad. I haven't eaten home-cooking that good for 4 days since I went to the beach with my fellow Georgia peach Rebecca and her family. Man, she knows how to cook! And the fam, too! Mmm, mmm, mmm!! I'm getting hungry just thinking about it!

Anyway, in Armenia the choice presented itself again: North or South. Again I chose the North to Cartagena. If you're going to make a trip to Colombia, how can you skip Cartagena?!? Romancing the Stone? Or was it Jewel of the Nile? I forget...

Montenegross

A pool day today. No, not billiards, the swimming pool! In the afternoon, I headed to Montenegro to check out the market and the weekend crowd. Montenegro has lovely parts but the majority of it is, well, gross. It's not gross all-in-all, I guess, but exists to serve a purpose, that purpose not being to look pretty. It's so anti-Colombian! But today I had a purpose and it was served it Montenegro.


Headed back to the finca in one of the Willy's, the driver stopped about 2 miles for the finca. I hitch-hiked the rest of the way. I call it hitching, but it was just that a friendly farmer with a pick-up picked me up. It turned out to be fortunate. The sunset was absolutely captivating!

Parque Nacional del Cafe

People have been telling me that I have to go to the coffee park. Officially it's called the Parque Nacional del Cafe. I didn't exactly understand what it was with the description given--juegos mecanicos--mechanical games? But, I went anyway. Nine hours of amusement park fun! I know. I'm an idiot. Sometimes.

First thing, I rode the Cyclon. Back in good ole GA it's called the Wheelie! I don't know if it still exists but it was the first real amusement park ride I would go on. I was a big scaredy-cat as a kid. You spin superfast in a circle & then go vertical. So the Cyclon, or Wheelie, whichever you prefer, holds a special place in my heart.

The park also has a great roller coaster, a log ride (called water mountain), a chair lift like at ski resorts, a cable car or gondola--I can't remember what those things are called--a gazilion other attractions, and two shows as well, el Show del Cafe and el Show de Orquideas!?! The coffee show traces the history of coffee in Colombia and its impact. Coffee is a huge part of the culture, and Juan Valdez is real! I thought he was a myth, but no! He actually exists and is quite famous! The coffee show has dancers who tell the story of how coffee was introduced to the country and how it began to flourish. The orchid show is all mechanical. The ceiling is lined with orchids, the centers of the flowers painted with faces, all different colors and types of orchids. The show starts with trees in the corners talking & then the orchids take it away singing and dancing. I think it's geered more toward kids but was fun for me--a kid at heart. There is also a bamboo forest and a walk through different times periods in Colombia history. Not only fun & games, but educational as well!

Don Mario & Willy´s

Last night we visited a local artist, Mario Martinez. He, his wife & their daughter live in his family´s 150 year-old home. It has a wrap qround porch and second house built out of guada, a wood like bamboo but not exactly the same. He has 15 brothers & sisters, so they built the second house to accomodate everyone. Mario paints on canvas and on wood he carves. It´s exquisite. There are more bird species in Colombia than any other nation (at least known and named species) and the señor paints lots of them. There are also sculptures of horses, painted bird feeders, jars, tables benches, all carved and painted. The path from the finca to the señor´s house is through the woods. Banana trees, yucca & coffee plants. It was night so I couldn´t see much but what I could see was lovely. The señora made the trek as well with a flashlight through the mud and thick.

Today was overcast and rainy so I went to another nearby town. Filandia, a small town with one main square. Everything closes midday. Piled in a Willy´s, what they call an old jeep, it cost about a dollar from the finca to Filandia. I´m guessing that Willy bought a whole bunch and started an alternative to taxis. The Willy´s are covered up with huge bags of coffee, plantains, and then the people. They hang off the sides, the back, one on top of the other. It´s quite a spectacle. I cruised the square, visited the town church, checked out the view obscured in the clouds and fog. I also visisted a wine plant today, not a vineyard in the hills but the plant in town. It smelled really sweet. They make fruit wines and several apertifs--tequila, brandy. I bought a cherry and an apple bottle, best served cold. Delish!

San Isidro

Today I ate breakfast and shopped for cool tours, activities and a new hotel in Montenegro. A kid rode up on a bike and quoted a decent price for a hotel with a pool and jacuzzi. He took me to the town drugstore where the head pharmacist (apparently the owner) was. Don Gustavo explained that he has a finca, San Isidro, just out of town where you get your own little house with t.v., jacuzzi and pool. Keep talking, keep talking. There are cows, goats, dogs, chickens, guinea pigs, turkeys...life on a farm but far more luxurious than any of the places I´ve stayed thus far. So I bit. He drove me all over the area, to the Parque del Cafe, past all the really expensive fincas, everything. At the finca lives a family of 4, mom, dad, and 2 daughters. They safeguard the house, work with the animals and take care of the guests. AH! I totally forgot! And the coffee! There are 4 or 5 workers who pick the coffee beans on the acres and acres of land. They carry it in on their backs to the finca where its processed. First, they weigh in all that the workers bring in. Day one, 5 men brought in just over 500 kilos of coffee beans. No joke. Then they dump it in a big vat of water to ferment for several days. Then it goes in a wide box to dry in the sun. After they, they cook it in a kiln. The beans are wrapped in a skin on the plant--they look like cherries. There´s also a yellow variety. When peeled, they´re beige like a potato. Once fully fermented it turns brown outside. It all smells great! And the señora serves the house coffee 4 sometimes 5 times a day. Have I mentioned that I love coffee?!

Signs in Spanish

So the Germans bid me adieu today, most of the morning spent looking for a location to change money and then bargaining for the cheapest bus fare. If you cruise the bus company strip and are fortunate to run into a gentleman neatly dressed in pressed company shirt, chances are, he´s the boss. And he´s the one to whom you can quote your price. He´ll then make the ticket seller honor your price. Nice. Now I know. I had almuerzo in the bus terminal and a girl approached the table with a card. It read that she was hearing impaired and showed sign language letters for those reading the card to practice. Much to my surprise, they use the same letters and many of the same signs as used in the US. I guess I would have thought that they´d have a Spanish sign language, given that in the US it´s called ¨American Sign Language.¨ Then again, I am in the Americas! I spoke to her in Spanish using the same signs I learned in grade school. It was a bit difficult speaking and spelling in Spanish words and signs I thought previously only pertained in English. When she left, the waitress asked me to say something in sign language. I asked her, ¨In what language should I speak?¨ Hee, hee! How cool.

So I left Cali for Armenia today. Armenia was destroyed in the late 90s by an earthquake and is under construction even still. We passed through Armenia on to Montenegro. Hotels are supposed to be less expensive there...always a gamble, but we´ll see. Found a hotel. Las Palmeras. Once settled in, a rat ran from underneath the bedside table, under the door and into the hallway. Good sign. After dinner, I came back to the horel to find cockroaches in the bed. Even better sign. Not sure I´m going to stay the night or pay for it if I do stay.

Cali, the beautiful

So we all packed to leave the hotel and Cali today but the Germans spent most of the day watching t.v. in the hotel lobby. They tried to bargain for a better rate for a room without a t.v. but I think they ended up happy to have it. For people who said they didn´t like t.v., they sure watched a great deal of it. I checked out a bit of Cali, checked out the Iglesia Ermita, bridges over the river and a small book market. I also cruised one of the main plazas that has palm trees taller than the buildings. Magnificent! Afterward, I changed hotels. The owner of the hotel, Dueña Stella, offered the Germans the same room at half price but wouldn´t budge for me. Her reasoning was that they needed help and didn´t have any money. Europeans traveling the world without money? I haven´t met one yet. It made me angry that they´d be offered a special rate but not I. So I took my pesos elsewhere.

It was Fredo´s birthday too, so we drank into the night on the patio at my new hotel. JJ´s. The restaurant below, called Hippopatomus, had burgers that smelled like heaven, the least expensive for 8,000 pesos. Just under $4. The most expensive runs 20,000, almost 10 bucks. We peered over the balcony and watched three people eating sandwiches the size of my arm. These were the $20,000 whoppers. We had eaten pastel de papas for dinner--they´re these funny-looking balls, on the outside potato, the inside filled with rice, meat and salsa. They fry them, and while delicious, not the most filling meal. The night before we ordered a tower of beer. It stood probably four feet off of the table and was gone in a few minutes. One thing about Germans that hold true: they love beer!

Misunderstood

So earlier today someone yelled ¨hanky panky¨ at the Germans. How do I explain that one? And there is another man, I think he may have a screw loose, who keeps yelling ¨Osama Bin Laden¨ at them as well. Fredo (left) got aggravated today and told the guy that they aren´t Americans. I´m not sure why he´s yelling anyway or what the point is. Maybe he´s trying to get a rise out of people he thinks are Americans?

The cockroaches are huge here! The size of my pinky. And for those of you who don´t know, I have some big hands. Once walking with 2 friends in NYC, we passed a theatre that had a small walk of fame. I tried Lily Tomlin´s handprints and those of other actors of lesser fame, and lastly Dom DeLuise´s. Much to my horror, it was a perfect fit!

Tres Cruces with the Germans

We walked up to the Tres Cruces today. I didn´t make it to the top but stopped at the break in the path for the view with one of the Germans I met yesterday. While looking for a hotel, we began talking, each other the only foreigners, travelers either had see in Colombia. Fredo and Daniel, they are traveling craftsmen and wear corduroy outfits signifying their trades. One wears blue, he works in metal. The other in black, a carpenter, although his clothes are more green now. He´s been traveling for almost 2 & 1/2 years and told me today that he´s washed his pants once in that time. Yikes! We booked the same hotel but on different floors.

Last night Fredo got hit on by a woman on the street. She stopped to speak to him and them came back to ask him if he wanted to accompany her to a night club. He declined and she got down to the bottom line and propositioned him. Bold! She apparently ended up in our hotel somehow. Not sure if that´s just coincidence of just good P.I. work. Walking the streets with the Germns is quite an affair. People talk to me often enough, but with these guys it´s so much more conspicuous. The anonymity I have in NYC is gone with these fellows in their get-ups. We´re stopped by mostly everyone on the street. Everyone. But it´s nice sometimes. People are curious and interested. It´s rare to see tourists here, especially ones of such a unique variety. They assume that I´m German as well, which I´m not sure how to take, given the stereotypical image of German women.

I was talking with Fredo at the view and he mentioned that people often ask if he´s a Nazi or where his lederhousen are. It´s funny. We all get stereotyped. These guys are fun. Ages 24 & 27 roaming the world as there is work and as work is needed.

I´m going back to Cali...

Remember that song? No, I don´t think so.

I´m on the way to Cali, Colombia from Popayan. Popayan is a small colonial village more than a city, but lovely and calm. It´s hot today, more humid than hot, but then again I did just have a cafe con leche which I´m sure doesn´t help. The hotel last night was a dump, but it did have light. And cable tv! But then again, what do I care? ¨Ain´t nothin gonna breaka my stride. Nobody gonna slow me down. Oh no! I´ve got to keep on movin´!¨ The niece of the owner of the hotel was a charmer. Yvonne, age 10.

It´s a different life here. Everyone just wants to be loved--that´s no different. But the notion of doing the best you can, I´m not sure that´s thought of or considered that often, or maybe it´s not usually much of a possibility. I guess being the best you can be, success, isn´t measured in the same ways as in the States. The best not meaning mad money, a new car, a nice pad, rather the best you can be is a loving, caring person, a good parent. I don´t know how much being the best you can be sure it´s considered States-side that much either, actually, but it occurs to me. Guess I´m the odd one out. Again.

Cali has these trees that grow roots above ground. They extend from underneath tree limbs into the group and continue at lengths of up to ten feet. It´s as though the limbs have hair, well, more dread locks. And there are mimosa trees here. My favorite!!

Pasto a Popayan

In the Pasto bus terminal, a man is carrying a rack of roosters. It´s the loudest sound in the entire terminal. One rooster crows, then another, sometimes in tandem, sometimes together. But they aren´t stuffed in a cage as I would have thought. Each is zipped up in an individual pouch side by side by side the others. There are 8 or 10 in the carrying case, a rooster farmer´s briefcase, I guess. I wonder if they´re for cockfighting!?!

In Colombia, you don´t travel in the same types of buses as in Ecuador, same as Greyhound. They have Supertaxis, large vans that fit 20 people and can zip muck more quickly through the mountins. The occasional bit of English is always a delight! Today a truck´s mudflap read, ¨Beep, beep? My ass!¨ Foul language is always the first thing taught and learned with a new language, isn´t it?

On the back of the bus seat, a no smoking warning is written in 5 different languages. The funny part is that the usual no smoking emblem has an apple as the outer ring instead of a simple circle, and says, ¨Consuma frutas.¨ Not only do they not want you to smoke on the bus in Colombia but they encourage eating fruit. Smart for your health and for the health of the fruit vendors alike.

The forces of tourism and the paramilitary have interesting effects in Ecuador and Colombia respectively. The people are somewhat paralyzed by and yet need tourism in Ecuador. It provides a living for so many of the people, from those running tourist agencies, bar & discoteque owners, to people begging in the streets. If there were no tourism in Ecuador, I wonder to what people would turn their attention and energy. At the same time, those living off of tourism sometimes seem to despise it, as though they are stuck and don´t have anther option. I can understand. I´ve felt tied to my job before with great uncertainty about how to make a change, if any. There are lots of people in Ecuador all the same who have money and work the typical jobs, whether in graphic design, telecom operations, in a travel agency. I guess I´ve encountered more those living off of tourism and tourist dollars. The guerillas and paramilitary have a looming effect on Colombians but in a different manner. The threat of paramilitary and guerillas violence seems to inhibit Colombians from living in peace. Almost like the mafia, I´ve heard stories of the paramilitary demanding money for your family´s protection. If you don´t pay, your family is at risk. It you do pay, you´ll continue to pay forever. They´re stuck just the same, but only from forces exerted from their own countrymen. This in combination with a reputation for being good at bad things (creating counterfeit money, drugs & arms smuggling) prevents a lot of travelers from entering the country. At the same time, it makes Colombians that much more interested in speaking with outsiders who have chosen to enter the country. People talk to me loads more in Colombia but not where I´m from or what am I doing so much, but about soccer or coffee or where to buy the best clothes. Both countries have pressures, while different, they are pressures nonetheless. Whether in the forefront or very back of their minds, they never seem to dissipate.

Pasto (which means grass!)

Last night I went to my first futbol game in South America. It was $8 a person. Paston (home-field advantage) played Defensor, a regional team from Uruguay. The whole town of Pasto came. The opening procession, or perhaps more of a pre-game show, is police. There were three types. First the Colobian SWAT team. Head-to-toe in black armor, they looked like storm troopers from Star Wars only in black. They carried body shields and an assortment of weapons, from tear gas to billy clubs to some sort of guns, not my forte. They lined the field to guard the players and insure that none of the fans riot. They secure a 12´ solid metal fence with their artillery and an occasional German Shepard, all scanning the crowd looking for trouble. The second type is in olive green uniforms with white accoutrement and accessories. A belt, billy club, holster, all in white, a lovely contrast with the olive. Interestingly enough, their holsters are empty, a mere threat, only an illusion of deadly force. I think the third type may just be the officers of the olives. They were berets without any of the white accents and some have long coats with tails. When I entered the stadium, I got frisked by one of the olives. Women get frisked by women, men by men. And I thought it was bad when they wouldn´t let me take an umbrella into the Stones concert at the Meadowlands!

So they don´t sell beer at the stadium. Bummer. But then again, it´s probably a good thing. The police would have much more work to do, I´m sure, if beer were sold. And who wants to work when there´s a game on?!? It started to rain just before half-time and we hid under the huge Pasto banners. It was a bit chilly as well, coffee at half-time too. Pasto held the lead 1-0 up until 20 minutes into the second half. There were 4 red cards in the game, hence 4 players ejected, and 7 yellow cards given. It wasn´t the roughest match I´ve ever seen. I think the ref was trigger happy. If he ejected one player one one team for an offense, he had to make the same call on the other side. Pasto was stronger, more experienced, Uruguay mostly youngsters, but scrappers at that. In the final minutes, the crowd cheering Pasto on for another goal, both teams down to 9 players, the field and the players soaked with rain, Uruguay scored a second goal. The fans deflated, they began leaving the stadium before the final whistleblow. Pasto dominated the entire game, but Uruguay had heart, and damn fine conditioning. I love soccer! Have I mentioned that?

Into Colombia

I crossed the border into Colombia this morning. An overnight bus frm Baños to Quito then to Ipiales, Colombia. I had to get a stamp out of Ecuador from the Ecuadorian immigration and a stamp into Colombia from the Colombian side. No big whoop. The Ecuadorian official who stamped my passport told me he´d wait for me to return with a smile and a wink. What is it with me and dirty old men? No offense to any who may be reading this. Love ya! HA! Only a joke, only a joke!!

On the Colombian side, there are money changers but none pushy, just available. Before the border in Tulcan, Ecuador I walked through a cemetery. It has nichos as is the custom but also has a labyrinth opening out to the nichos. Animals, shapes, sculptures in trees. It´s magnificent, although it did remind me of the closing scene of The Shining.

Colombia is beautiful. It looks like The Sound of Music. The hills are alive...ah, ah, ah, ah...with songs they will sing for a thousand years. All the houses have tiled roofs, even in the most rural parts. And there are flowers planted everywhere, even the most modest of homes well-manicured such that the owner´s pride is easy to surmise.

Volcanic explosions

The day in Baños, nothing special, laundry, lunch with friends. But the night prior, another matter indeed! The volcano is active. It let out several explosions last night around 1 am. Bursts of lava shot from the top, followed by huge booms--light traveling faster than sound. The lava poured down the side of the mountain but not enough to do damage to the town or homes, only to vegetation. It´s the first time in my life I´ve witnessed molten fire spouting from an active volcano.

This morning as well the vcolcano spewed dust, smoke and soot. It rained a bit last night so the fire and lava must have cooled. Sad to think and say, but the colors coming from the volcano reminded me of the Twin Towers explosions, only of a smaller scale.

Laughter

It´s difficult for me because, as much as I may love people and the people I´ve been traveling with for the past few weeks, sometimes I think I am better alone. Or that I have to have time to myself. Or that in reality I´m a solitary creature. With a group, there´s always some part of me in the distance...my eyes adrift if even for only a moment. Those who know me well know this look, but for more recent friends, I think it may be uncomfortable. It´s as though I feel my destiny or fate lies elsewhere. In this moment with this company, I should be present celebrating, but some part of me is somewhere else.

I heard Crazy for You by Madonna today and thought of my friend Giovanni. The nut used to sing that song to me and, when I was in a bad mood, it always made me laugh. I miss being able to be wacky and have it be understood. Sometimes I wish I could be back to New York for just a bit of time to do something silly to make people laugh. I miss laughing for 20 minutes about the silliest of things, looking at Julie laughing, her manner of laughing only making me laugh more. I miss my friends, my family, my people and hope everyone is ok. Today, whoever is reading this has an assignment, as do I. We have to do something silly to make someone else in this world laugh. Not just a giggle, but an all out roar of a laugh, ok?!? OK!

North or South?

We left Guayaquil today. I´m headed back to Baños for the rest of my things (cold weather clothes) and then am not sure where I´m headed. I may go north to Colombia and then up into Central America. Or I may stick with the original plan south to Peru and Chile. Not sure. Still thinking. Any thoughts anyone?

First choice

Today we went to the Cinema!! Yeah!! We saw a movie called El Obscuridad (The Dark). Never heard of it, but it was ok. Not my first choice but the best of a limited selection.

And we ate at Pizza Slut tonight. Again, not my first choice but nothing is open in Guayaquil on Sundays. Funny for the country´s comercial capital...I had a personal veggie pizza and a beer. It was good. Better than in...well, the last time I had Pizza Hut was in college at Charlottesville, VA. Oh dear, that was twelve years ago!! The total came to about $7 which we thought kind of expensive. I keep having to remind myself that my usual dinner in NYC runs about $40.

Hey! Watch out for that Iguana!!

So Guayaquil is the largest city in Ecuador, certainly the commercial capital of the country. The city has wide sidewalks all with porticos and columns. It reminds me of Bologna, the architecture, the wide open streets. It has rained both nights so far, the covered sidewalks a welcome refuge from the downpours.

The main cathedral has a huge garden in front covered with huge iguanas. They´re longer than a human leg, some 5 feet long even, and varieties of colors. They bask in the sun and then take to the trees to cool off. At the scent of an animal, a possible predator, a dog for example, they take off running. The braver iguanas, or recent mothers, blow up the flap of skin under their chins, kind of like frogs, to signal that they´re ready for a fight. It´s really quite scary to see a huge lizard running straight for you. They have long sharp nails to scale trees in seconds, and as they climb, their nails scratch into the trees, almost like nails on a chalkboard. And they coexist with these animals that look like they are a cross between squirrel and mouse. Everyone here says that this animal is quite friendly, but I´m not so sure...

I bought a purse today. Uh, oh. Looks like the real Anne is starting to rear her ugly head. I thought I could last several months living out of a backpack with the same 5 pairs of pants, shirts, undies...heaven, help me. I just love shopping! I blame it all on my father. I got everything from him, everything except eye color, skin tone, and, of course, the girl parts. Now, don´t get me wrong. My Dad ROCKS, and, man, do we enjoy doing a little shopping damage from time to time!

So we made a dream come true for Geraldine last night. She had had a crush on this guy named Danny, since she & France visited Baños, give or take a month of adoration. He lives in Guayaquil, so we rang him and set up a little surprise for her. We all danced the night away. While it was wonderful for her to see him, I wonder if it wasn´t destructive at the same time. I´m sure France was pleased. She´s been listening to Geraldine talk about Danny for over a month. But sometimes I wonder if it´s better to have the dream of that person, to let the memory live in that perfect little world, rather than to have to witness some flaw or imperfection. I guess maybe I´m biased. To me Danny smelled of sour, as though they had sat in the washing machine way too long. But hey...different strokes, right? In Guayaquil, the even cocktail ritual was the 3 Cs: chips, chocolate and cerveza! Here´s Geraline with one of the three...

Negotiable

We rode jet skis today in the main bay of Salinas. I felt kind of bad because I was driving, Alejandro hanging on for dear life. He had apparently never ridden a jet ski before. Oops! And I´m a maniac on those things. Jet skis, snowmobiles, bicycles...I turn into Evil Knievel! And I guess the ride for the second person isn´t quite as smooth as the ride for the driver. HA! Whoops! I had a blast, anyway...

The gang left Salinas in the afternoon for Guayaquil. Everything is up for grabs in Ecuador. Prices are all negotiable, from jet skis to clothing, from taxis to room & board. Imagine walking into the Millenium at Ground Zero, the concierge quoting you a price, you cutting it in half at first offer, the concierge then auctioning the room off to you for a price you both deem suitable. In Guayaquil, we asked for a room at Pacifico Hostelling but the hotel had doubled the price quoted in the travel guide. So we negotiated, then checked out the rooms. Not so good. So we shopped around and ended up at the Hotel Savoy II. It was really nice. Cable TV (oh my! I don´t even have cable in my apartment!), air conditioning (another thing I don´t have in my apartment!), a closet with hangers (now that I do have). And only $15 for a double. Talk about a keeper!

So Salinas did happen after all

We left Montañita today for Salinas, a resort town for Guaquileños. We took a taxi for $15, 4 people. Not bad for an hour drive, eh? We rocked out to Led Zeppelin, Men at Work, the Beatles. As much as I enjoy Spanish music and dancing to it, the occasional dose of rock and roll never hurts.

Salinas is where the rich of Ecuador go for beach vacations, so they say. It looks a bit like a resort town constructed in the 80s with more recent additions being constructed as we speak. Our hotel left quite a bit to be desired. It´s a trip. For $15 a night, usually you expect a lot in Ecuador, but Salinas is a resort town. The hotel did have a pool--bonus! And we ordered three meals ahead of time (dinner tonight, breakfast and lunch tomorrow) for all of $5 total. It´s crazy the difference in money. My friend Edison pays $35 a month in rent for an apartment about the size of mine. Granted, it´s not in NYC, and there´s no kitchen, but he has room for a sofa--something I´ve only dreamed of for my pad! Another friend who was in Montañita last weekend (his name is Raleigh, interesting enough) makes $700 a month as an engineer in Ambato. That´s loads of dough here.

After dinner, we went for a stroll on the main drag in search of desert. Today is the annual Dia de La Mujer (day of the woman) for what it´s worth. We stopped at an Italian place with a long desert and cocktail menu. I ordered a martini. What was I thinking? It was the first time I´d seen a martini on a menu, so I figured, why not? Wow. Martinis in Ecuador...sad state of affairs. Dessert at least turned out ok.

Oh, and I called my mom in Singapore tonight. They´re 13 hours ahead, so it requires a bit of planning! Her birthday is tomorrow here, today there. Happy Birthday, Mom! Love you!

Let there be light!

While I like to think I´m a spontaneous person, even in New York, I grew to enjoy the routines I had in place. Here in Montañita, Cabaña Roy has become part of the routine and I´m enjoying this routine to the fullest. We meet up around 5:30 at Rony´s tiki hut for cocktails and watch the sun set on the beach. Quick aside: one beer is $1.50 and 24 ounces. Rony cranks whatever music the people request. He has 2 hammocks set up as well, in the event that you need a quick siesta listening to the waves. So nice.

We´ve entered the rainy season here, which is actually quite lovely in my opinion. It rains in the morning and at night and is usually beautiful, clear and breezy in the day. Blue sky. The only problem with the rain is that it seems to affect the electrical lines here. The electricity was out for two days, and then a few days later, a third. We didn´t even have water. It felt like Little House on the Playa. Eating, drinking, sleeping, bathroom, they all become adventures and can be slightly more uncomfortable without that little thing called light. The party beach town that Montañita is certainly slows down a bit without electricity. But, then again, that´s what generators are for, no?!?

One more not so fun thing about Montañita. In NYC, they have big trucks that stop at restaurants to clean grease traps. Well, here they have them for the same but also for the sewage. Not fun, not fun at all. And so without electricity, the trucks seemed to be running behind schedule and showed up at 2 am to take care of business in Montañita. The trucks and their necessary duties do not evoke thoughts of sugar plums, freshly baked blueberry pie or spiced cider exactly.

Mototaxis, boats and fish, oh my!

We took a boat today from Puerto Lopez out to Isla Salango. It was raining in the morning, as it was the night before, and we left the hotel with little hope. Puerto Lopez is dirtier than Montañita. They drive mototaxis around the bay and beach to avoid the garbage on the beach. A modern take on the rickshaw.

As the day passed, the clouds broke, the rain moved up shore and left us a delightful day. Sport fishing, snorkeling, sunning on the roof of the boat...now, that´s life! We all got sunburned but enjoyed every minute of it. We must have seen 30 different species of fish snorkeling, but didn´t catch any! Sting rays, schools of neon blue fish whose scales reflect the sunlight, dark blue ones, light blue ones, pale blue ones with yellow lips, stripes, dots, fish with teeth, a violet starfish suctioned to the coral...magnificent!

As the years pass

I danced with Julio until the wee hours. He owns a taxi service and is the Vice President of Las Mandarinas, the guy club my friends created the first time I was here. So today I woke up at 1 PM. Yikes! Can´t believe that one! I haven´t done that since college...ok maybe once or twice since.

On the beach, the Suizzas and I discussed traveling. They asked me how I liked France. I went when I was 11 and wasn´t that impressed. They were shocked. I was shocked as well but not for the same reason...I realized that I was making a reference to an event that happened almost 20 years ago in my life! It´s really crazy to be old enough to reference an experience that occured 20 years in the past, and to remember it!! I must admit, I feel better at 30 than I ever have. I hope the years do me well. And that I may be blessed enough to continue to enjoy the years more and more as they pass.

Here I am in my room with a rose.

Generally speaking...

Probably not worth the mention, all things considered, but I´m going to make mention of him anyway. Oscar. A twin, 20 years old. Good-looking kid. He´s along with the group, 10 people in total. Never spoke to me in Baños but stared at me from time to time. Ok, whatever, weirdo. I´m one of the 2 girls of the group, the other ¨gringa¨ from the UK. I´m not a fan of generalizations. We´re all different as much as the same. And as much as people make generalizations about foreigners (we´re white, therefore rich and easy...), there are generalizations to be made about Ecuadorian men all the while. Oscar told me (nevermind the asking part...he´s the man) to buy three of us ceviche the first day on the beach, then borrowed money from me twice, used my bathroom (his hotel is really far, far and cheap). He´s a leech, only worse. Leeches live off blood. Oscar prefers the money of foregin girls. Eww. Enough about him.

So two girlfriends from Switzerland showed up this evening. Awesome! They´re great girls, France & Geraldine. I think I mentioned them before. We met in Baños and danced the night away. Let the fun begin!!

Violation

This morning my dog was sleeping at the table where I had breakfast! I love coincidence. And I love that a dog can sleep at your table with no health code violation, not begging or whining, just having a nap. I love the beach. I just do. You don´t have to wear clothes if you don´t want to...a dog can sleep at your table while you eat...people twirl fire in the street...

People also walk the streets here every day, trying to sell you stuff. I can´t imagine that being my job. I got roped into one of those book selling scams my first year in college. What a nightmare, selling books, pardon, ¨educational materials¨ to rural families (trailer parks) in the middle of nowhere Oregon. Not sure I´ll ever want to sell anything ever again.

As I eat breakfast, there is a man carving up some sort of meat on a cardboard box. Now there´s a health code violation I don´t mind so much. Wonder if it´s kosher...a yellow lab waiting patiently at a distance for the scraps.

Unexpected pairings

As I left the hotel (the group I have no idea where, not sure I care that much) to walk on the beach, the discoteque had Queen´s Another One Bites the Dust blasting. I own that record (well, I claimed it at the age of maybe 8). A dog passed on my left. I had a Pilsener in my right, set for a lovely midnight stroll. Walking, drinking, enjoying the night sky. What I didn´t realize is that the dog was walking with me. He, actually she I soon knew, roamed ahead to sniff out a shell, crab, something, and turned around to check that I was still following, and then waited for me to catch up. I didn´t know that she wanted to walk with me. She would have probably walked with anyone headed the same direction, but for those moments, I felt a sense of belonging. A feeling quite rare traveling alone in a new world. Me, my own animal, and another, walking on the beach, exploring, not a care in the world.

We came upon a couple as well as we walked and I, with great respect for romantic interludes, kept a distance. But as the couple approached, it became easier to make out their shapes. A pair indeed, but it was a pair of horses, also out for a late night galavant through the sand! This night one of the most memorable experiences of this trip so far.

Oh! And I talked to one of my good friends tonight. He said he was going to write nasty things in the comment section of this blog! Well, I never! So please folks, whoever may be reading this, CONSIDER THE SOURCE...my stuff included!

It´s all in the details

Today was a day of details. I got my bikini altered (taken in, not out...joy!) for $0.50. Perfect. I did laundry at my friend Margarita´s hotel in her washing machine and dryer (double joy). The hotel got shut down for 7 days this morning (take one joy back). A new guy working there, Jimmy from Russia, rented a room to an undercover ¨rent¨ cop and didn´t give her a receipt (see...told you there were a lot of cops here). That´s apparently cause to shut down a hotel for 7 days upon first infraction. Margarita and her husband Patricio were pretty upset, but not with Jimmy per se. As I left to pick up my alterations, Jimmy was renting a room to a family of three. I guess the cops don´t travel in families. And I guess the stickers the cops taped to all the doors don´t do much to deter those who need a place to sleep and a good shower.

So we left Baños and 7 pm or so. It´s 3:12 am now and we just popped a tire. I´m convinced that traveling during the day is far better than at night. First of all, the bus driver is able to see. Second of all, so am I.

Here´s a photo of my breakfast, and what´s typical here.