Haiku Death Battle

STARS SEWN ON VELVET
DRAPE EVERY MOUNTAIN AND VALE.
NIGHT MUST SLEEP, AS WELL.


I'm back! Tonight is a city-wide, Battle Royal, championship event of writers and I have entered. Wish me luck, if you will. Each contestant must bring 20 haiku poems and mine are done.

Now, if I could only find a printer.

It's amazing that a couple of months have snuck by since I last posted anything, but the internet never lies. Wait, what am I saying? The internet always lies!

We've been busy, but we have been taking pictures and, so, now I'll try and catch up.



A series of posts will follow in the "On the Road" stream of conciousness school of writing wherein I can't be held accountable for anything I do. I like this idea already.





I've been teaching non-stop since I got here and Joella just finished her training and is now a certified teacher, also. Last night, she was working on a lesson plan, but because my classes just ended and new ones haven't started, I have the weekend off. So, I walked down to the big church on the corner to see if anything was going on.





But, no, it was just the same usual people playing, I mean praying.
Uh,Oh! Elvis just came on with "Hunk of Burning Love", I gotta go!

3 Amigas

My girlfriends, Katie and Debbie, came down from Anacortes during the month of May. After spending a few days in Cuenca so they could become climatized to the altitude, we started off on our "Big Adventure". We flew up tp Quito and started making our way south on the Avenue of the Volcanos via bus. The conductor of the bus (the young man who collects the money) invited Debbie to sit shotgun...SOMETHING NONE OF THEM EVER OFFERED ME???. This front row seat gave her a fabulous view, which could be good or bad, considering the driving techniques of the bus drivers who view blind corners as passing lanes.

While we were walking around some back roads of the not so lovely hamlet of Lasso, a family came by in their pick-up truck and asked if we would like to visit their rose farm. Roses are the third or fourth (depending on who you ask) largest export of Ecuador. This man's flowers were all intended for export outside of the country, and as seems to be the trend, totally organic.

We went to a mercado that had a section of handicrafts (we all found beautiful things to buy) but it was primarily an indigenous market for the locals with everything you could possibly want or need, including live chickens destined for that afternoons's soup (sopa)pot.

And the next day, it was on to Cotopaxi, the highest active volcano in the world. The local legend is that after the baby (Illiniza) and Mother (Tungurahua) make enough ruckus with their eruptions, they awaken Big Daddy (Cotopaxi) from his sleep. Mama has been putting on quite a display lately, so the Ecuadorians are expecting some action from Cotopaxi (the Man of the House) soon.

Here we are, looking fairly warm and happy, as we work our way closer to the mountain.

Cotopaxi means collar in Quichua. The red soils you see everywhere are the left over deposits from previous eruptions.

Note the change of appearal we've donned on leaving the parking lot and heading for the higher base camp with its elevation of 15,400 + feet. That's our guide on the left, not me!

The hike wasn't very long, but considering the altitude, we were happy to get there.

Our next stop, was Quilotoa, a little hamlet on the edge of a crater lake. The elevation was slightly lower, but the wind blew and the temps dropped with the setting of the sun. Here's a shot of Debbie and Katie sporting the offical uniform of traveling, outdoorsy Gringas... (caps being optional) black sunglasses and tops with kool kakii bottoms to accent and soften the rugged hiking boots.

The trail around the rim was fabulous, a little scary at times, and even though they said you couldn't get lost, we often tried.

The proprietress of our hosteria did Debbie's hair up like one of the nate's.

Tony thought this was the best picture of Debbie he has ever seen, but then he's an A-hole.

You would think it'd be hot on the equator, but not at 13,000ft. So, we headed south and east towards the Oriente.

Banos is on the eastern side of the eastern cordillera, so the climate was warmer, more humid with more tropical vegetation. We hiked,shopped, enjoyed the public thermal baths and just took it easy.

And, oh yes, I forgot to mention that we did have some trouble getting into and out of Banos due to the demonstrations by the indigenous peoples over the loss of their water rights. Our bus was turned back once, we were in the middle of rock throwing by the demonstrators and tear gassing by the police (I was trying to hide under the seat while Debbie was watching out of the back window, giving us a blow by blow of the action) and then we were stranded over night along with all the the semis in the town of El Tambo.

But, we did make it back to Cuenca on schedule and had an exceptionally lovely and warm day to hike in Cajas National Park. We can take public transportation from the city to the park and some of its trailheads. However, on this particular day, the buses returning to the city were few and far between, so we hitched a ride in the back of a pick-up. The young man driving seemed to be training for Nascar and was the most exciting mode of transportation we experienced.

Sadly, Debbie had to return to Anacortes, so Katie and I headed south to Vilcabamba. They claim it's the water, but there are an unusual number of really old people living there. Also, old hippies and strange gringos, but that's my take on it. There was a short, extremely exposed section of trail that Katie didn't care for (notice the person to the left of the trail). Nonetyhless, we pushed on and were rewarded with spectacular views. Then we went and had $18 massages and $5 pedicures. What a great country!

I hope some of the rest of you, our other friends, will come down, so we can explore other parts of this diverse country.

Chau for now,

Joella

Cowboy Up!

This photo-graphic is courtesy of my evil twin brother, J Willie, born on the the same day and year and in the same city....Happy Memorial day Weekend!


I'm on my way to a Rodeo here and have stopped on top of a mountain Passs. Allow me to digress.... The regions to the North, Riobamba and Banos-Ambato, are still active volcano areas. Just four days ago, Tungurahua erupted again. That's why Alexander Humbolt called that area the Avenue of the Volcanoes. But, I am headed South towards Loja and Villacabamba which has the Fountain of Youth and is less active, volcanically. When these mountains were all covered with glaciers and they (the glaciers) were moving "Paths" or "Passes" were created and that is what you are seeing here in this photo. The first humans were able to come here from the coastal regions to the East using these passes. Great basins (or Cuencas) of water were formed when the glacial ice melted. Later, earthquakes would open the basin's retaining walls of mountain/hills and the water would escape as valley-carving rivers until only swamps were left. These drained out compeletly and then dried in the sun. When the the migrating humanoids arrived these basins offered ideal settlement locations because of the protective shelter and security they afforded. The city of 400,00 that I now live in, Cuenca, is one such 540 year old settlement.

Anyway, back to the story. I'm on my way to Nabon, a city of 30,000 which means turnip, for the big rodeo which is held in conjuction with the religious celebration of the "Virgen del Rosario".

In the 16th Century, the Spaniards figured out what it was going to take to convert the continent. Nothing short of a mass importation of idols that could and would supplant the natives own less colorful, clay figurines. So, Virgin Marys were shipped out from Spain and Italy on a massive scale to every nook and cranny of South America, Central America and Mexico in order to take the place of the earth Mother Natural Goddesses being worshipped at the time in all those places. Each Canton or regional area took this "gift" from the conquistidors as their very special own Mother God and still worship these figurines to this day, throwing rose petals at them on those special occassions (like rodeos) when the statues are allowed to see daylight.

The brahman bulls, however, are not quite sure what to make of it all though and have even heard rumors that in distant foreign lands it is they (the worthy Bull) that is worshipped instead of being penned up like so much, well, excuse me....but, livestock.

The religious parade is short and sweet, but the bronco and bull riding lasts the afternoon with all the dignitaries turning out from the beauty queens, to the cowboy stars and even the local politicians which are sometimes hard to tell apart from the more important rodeo clowns.

All you have to do is stay on for 8 seconds, but using only one hand to hang on with and if you think that would be easy than all I can say is, "Cowboy Up!" and depending on how long you last, "Cowgirl Down!"

There is always a slight pause after the riding events because someone has to figure out a way to get the bronco or bull off the field, so the next rider can take his chances on the back of an upset animal without anybody or anything being in the way of all the twisting, turning and torquing.

Reality, however, can not be choreographed and it seemed something unexpected was taking place behind the curtain unbeknownst to the bucking stars and clowns on center stage.

While the cowboys were hanging on for their dear lives,

and some clowns were fighting funnily,

while other clowns fled fleetingly

the bulls had made a jail break!

Having heard they would be finally respected as they deserved if they could just make it to the Indian sub-continent, they had decided as a group "Let's Roll" and had busted out of their pens down into the adjoining neighborhoods and up into the surrounding hills.

So, even though I had gone afar to seek out a simple diversion without complexity or questions, I had instead found mysterious tracks eons old, further proof of man's continued folly and most answers still untold...plus, no bull.

Gullible's Travels

Joella's desktop is so crowded with photos she lost one of her images while entering her last blog, so I am submitting it to you now. These are puyas, a bromeliad type plant and favorite food source of the Oso Andino (spectacled bear) and after the plant's stem and flower whither away it dies. Trust me guys, they're going to miss us when we're gone.

You can get great deals on fruit here. This jewel only cost me a quarter and the little urchin I swindled out of it assured me it was going to grow into a much bigger one.

Here's something you see a lot of...a three generation family of women in their hand-made skirts and white bowlers haggling at the vendor stalls for a better deal and then after they get it, they ask for a little extra or "Yapita".

I asked Jo what these herbs were and she said, "I dunno, I did it for the composition of the shot not because I knew what they were." Maybe I'll ask Bill and Marsha to blow it up and ID them.

I found this shot for Jo; so, of course, it's one of my favorites. You'll have to imagine some of it since you can't see what they're all sitting on, but it's a circular park bench with a single tree growing out of its middle planter box. I'm not saying this is a matriarchal society down here, but you never see any male power centers like this confab. Remember what they used to say in the old western movies, "You can always tell the good ones because they're wearing white hats".

"She's like a rainbow...wearing skirts of many colors everywhere" or something like that???

Rolling Stones, wasn't it?

Rgardless of the hat's direction, which way do you think she's facing? Is there a correct answer?

"No se". That's Spanish for "I don't know" which I've learned to say very convincingly.

The problem which often arises when traveling with a photographer is simply this, "How does a giant make himself small in the land of Lilliputians ?".

It can't be done, son,

gotta run...

Field Trip

The field camps for Fundacion Cordillera Tropical are several hours from Cuenca via progressively rougher roads. When we reach an endpoint that the driver feels he or she will be able to exit from later, we abandon the truck and walk. I've become accustomed to hiking in diary boots out of necessity because there are many wide streams and muddy expanses in the paramos. We continued our journey for an hour more until we finaly arrived at Rumi Loma.

The camp consists of three dormitories, the main kitchen/livingroom building and a bathhouse. Why they space these buildings so far apart from each other on the hillside, is anyone's guess.

Our mission was to monitor the regrowth of plants after a burn. Catherine, the director, is first and foremost a scientist, and siezed the opportunity to collect data. There were 7 random, 100m transects, which we located with the help of a GPS. Every 10m she would place a 3x3m grid on the ground and identify and count the different species. I was the recorder. It's not real exciting work, but I did get to hike around the mountains for 3 days.

From a distance, this part of the Andes reminds me of eastern Washington; but up close the vegetation is very distinct and different from that area.

Although it rained hard every night, we lucked out with dry, cool days;

here's Rumi Loma in the distance (Catherine's the little dot in the foreground).

The last day, we measured the last transect, packed up our stuff (I had to leave the horse skull behind) and hiked up over the ridge (in our rubber boots) toward the other field camp, where the truck would be waiting to take us home.

Thanks to Body Pump (that's an exercise class, guys), I could squat down with a full backpack to take this photo of tiny lichen.

Luckily, Patricio (the field tech) met us halfway down the other side and took our packs. After that, the trail was approximately a 22% grade with 6-12 inches of slippery mud. It was like skiing through slush, and wouldn't have been nearly as much fun with a fully loaded backpack.

"I wonder who those two furless creatures were?"

"All I know is it's creepy how they walk on their back legs."

"Don't look now, guys, but the yellow one is pointing a shiny box at us."