Hikes, Classes & Floor Shows

SHE WALKED THE LINE
THAT RAN ROUND THE BLUE WORLD,
THEN GREW WINGS TO FLY.

90% of the time; travel in this country, like most others in Latin America, involves buses.

There are several different kinds from those wherein you ride with people hauling live chickens in plastic, burlap-like bags and which stop frequently for anyone who flags them down to, by comparison, luxurious ones that rarely stop and whose seats totally recline when you're ready to sleep. There are many, many things to be said about buses; but that will have to wait until later.

So, in order to take a hike at an exceptional location you must first ride a bus, usually at least an hour and a half, just to get in the neighborhood. I often find myself saying both aloud and to myself, "Wow! I haven't driven a car in a long time." I don't miss it.

Our friend Steve "not the Rock Star" Miller came for a visit and, so one Sunday, we rode a bus to Azogaes. Which is the home of my Spanish teacher, Maria Elena, who wanted us to taste whole pig cooked with a flamethrower and the local, rich ice cream. Then, we hiked to the top of a tall hill, or small mountain (you choose), to visit a large church that had been built into it's solid rock flank. Steve had the camera, so you'll have to bug him for pictures of that impossible structure.

A few blog visitors have asked for more information on my (and now our) teaching experiences, so I'll briefly try to oblige them. However, I very much still feel like a rookie. My handwriting is pretty bad, but the spelling is usually correct and at least it's large enough to be read from a distance by my students.

Classroom sizes are manageable with less than 10 students most of the time. The mix is interesting because adults, teeenagers and 10 year olds can all be at the same level of English proficiency. My style, if you want to call it that, is to have fun in class which engages them and elicits responses rather than my spending the 2 hours just lecturing at them like some kind of talking head. I know how to speak English, they're the ones who need practice and my class is a safe place for them to try because laughing at the attempts of others is strictly forbidden. However, they are allowed to laugh at my Spanish pronunciation whenever they like.

Patio courtyards are one of the best things ever thought of by humans and, whether you realize it or not, they have been around since the early Romans, if not longer. Our school has a wonderful one where I like to go and plan my lessons before the classes begin. There are flowers in there that are older than I am, and that's saying something, and Hummingbirds the size of Robins. (I'm in the distant background, if you want to enlarge the picture, but why would you?)

People learn in different ways and some prefer to express themselves with colorful drawings. Who the heck am I to say, "No, you must only write sentences." If they like what they have drawn, then I tape it up on the wall for everyone to enjoy. Some may say I let them get away with whatever they want, but I've been getting excellent teacher evaluations from the students I have taught. So, to those critics I say, "Who asked you?"

THE LITTLE ONES SMILE
BEFORE THEY BEGIN TO SPEAK,
MICE ABOUT TO SQUEAK.

I've also been called Mr. Mean Teacher by some of the younger students because of the amount of homework I give out, but they're usually the same ones who need to improve the most and at the end of the term when they're leaving they invariably thank me for teaching them so much because now they can "one up" their friends who only have limited "MTV" English.

Whenever we can we get out of town to hike in the mountains and more times than not we are the only ones on the tops of them. The scenery is breath-taking (in more ways than one) and maybe, someday, Joella will send me some of her photographs, so I can share them with you. Maybe all of you should send her emails telling her that you want to see what she's been shooting. I'm tired of asking for them. This is a valley called Vilcabamba, a place where people never grow old. Don't believe me? Google it! Too many gringos and other ex-pats for me though.

GRINGOS TOGETHER
SAFELY HIDING IN A HERD
WHERE ENGLISH’S THE WORD.

We didn't spend as much time in Vilcabamba as we did over it and I really must say it is one beautiful lugar. Want to see what it looks like? Write Joella :)

CAJAS PARAMO,
A SPONGE CARPET ON THE MOON
WITH LOCKED-UP-SAFE LAKES.

As I mentioned a few postings ago, one night after work I went down the street for a walk and put up a pictures of the 3 amigas I met. Here's the rest of the dance troupe...

Another day, another fiesta and girls every boy here is another Antonio Banderas in fancy pants.

And you old pervert guys who are reading this don't need to act uninterested because most of the women folk in my neighborhood have a penchant for revealing attire.

It's easy to get a dance with the ladies. All you have to do is beg.

However, I've never noticed crowds gathering like this before when I was on the dance floor.

Funny, how even though the show is hot enough on its own there are those still feel the need to shoot off GIANT sparklers.

I think this one was called the "It's time to make the bed" dance.

I offered to teach it to Joella because she wasn't there, but she acted as if she had no interest.

SONGBIRDS SING AND COCKS
CROW TO THEIR HENS WHEN BLACK TURNS
BLUE-PINK, MORNING COMES.

Later, gators...

Fiesta de Corpus Christi

Tossed Inca scraps

feed the hungry river rats,

who are soon owl snacks.

Most nights, but especially during festivals, vendors apppear selling what I call "Street Meat" and, actually, I eat it quite often because the charcoal fire burns off the ameobas and it never makes me sick. Plus, it's only a dollar and it's tasty.

This report is on what happened back in mid-June, but as I said earlier, I'm just able to get to it now...mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa...

(the following purple prose is from a website put out locally by gringos)

Cuenca’s Setenario celebration is the city’s most explosive of the year, drawing tens of thousands of spectators to the city’s main plaza. As the name implies, the event runs for seven days but it is often extended for a day or two by government order if sponsors pony up the cash for additional fireworks. Setenario (also called Septenario) is a celebration contrived by the Catholic Church following the Spanish conquest to replace the indigenous June Solstice observance. Despite the fact that it coincides with the Catholic Corpus Christi observance and is partly sponsored by local churches, the festival bears little connection to Christian piety. In addition to nightly fireworks shows, Setenario is also famous for the sale of sweets. More than a hundred candy and pastry stands line Calles Sucre, Malo and Cordero, each under its own canopy with tables piled high with candy, pastries and cookies. Besides attracting customers, the sweets are also popular with honey bees. Buyers beware!

Now we go back to wonderful photographs by Joella and smart a-- coments by yours truely,

Here we have The Holy Cathedral surrounded and being held hostage by candy mongers.

Sweets of every size, color, shape and description imaginable.

And they're all singing Sammy Davis Jr.'s "the Candyman can" in Spanish.

Well, maybe not, but try and imagine it anyway.

http://www.azuayesfiesta.com/

Cuenca is in the province of Azuay and the motto for the regional tourism office loosely translates into "We are a party and there's one every Thursday through Sunday, somewhere!"

The screen grab above isn't very good, but it's a guy running around in a cow costume shooting roman candles out of his face. So, they have those at these weekly fiestas and then they like to build big bamboo castles covered in more fireworks and set them off, as well.

When castles burn hot

and vaca locos fire snot

evenings blaze away.

I realize I've shown you "Castillos" like these before in earlier postings, but no two are alike and people are always settting them off in different parts of town.

Add to that, families pay for them on their own and they're expensive...kind of like the ultimate poorman's performance art, so to my way of thinking they deserve a second look.

The other thing the pyromaniacal citizens do which isn't as dramatic, but in its own way even more spectacular, is light off these "Globos" or hot air balloons.

Again, they make these globos and castillos themselves with a lot of time, effort and money; only to quickly see it all go up in smoke...literally and figuratively.

However, they're a spectacular sight.

The globo events usually occur around 8:30 or so and I've happen to walk out on my balcony and see something quite remarkable. They are lit off, one after another in rapid succession and they start rising up in the early evening sky. Then, the prevailing breeze catches them and starts moving them out single file in a line like gigantic fireflies marching off in a parade to who knows where. Eventually, there can be 50 or more of them. The lower ones being very big and those at higher altitudes getting smaller and smaller. They merge in with the tropical stars until they are finally at their zenith when their paper skin catches on fire and they fall like meteors, one after the other.

After an hour or so of this, the show ends and I go to bed.

This is your intrepid reporter,

Huntin' (por un) Goodtime,

saying "Buenas noches de Ecuador".

Zebra Fish

Windows are closed,
the only sounds to hear are
from the open door.

I've never really been the scientific type, but even I found this interesting.
We met a fellow down here by the name of Fabian...

Fabian, of Cuenca-Ecuador, got his Pharmacology PhD. in Belgium.

He never became a pharmacist, though;

opting instead to work at the University in the Chemistry department on a project.

The project is investigating the medicinal properties of tropical plants from the Amazon.
In the past, when drug company scientist would learn something from a shaman they would just "take" it and not bother to compensate the indigenous people who held the secret.

This is an old story, the most infamous of which was the "discovery" of quinine for treating malaria which was stolen from a witch doctor. He received nothing, the scientist is in the history books and the drug company made billions.

(This picture needs to be rotated, as it's a cupboard with shelves full of dried plants.)

Fabian doesn't think this is right and, more importantly, the young people in the Amazon villages aren't interested in learning the tropical medicine trade secrets. They would rather learn how to flash gang signs and dress like the rappers they see on music videos which is not germaine to them alone, but is happening in many, many other places throughout the global village.

But, I digress...

So, Fabian and his team have been collecting, cataloging and analyzing these important beneficial plants and then running tests with them to see if they do in fact work as claimed.

The tests are conducted on "zebra" fish which are small (not big, like I the non-scientist thought) and much less expensive to work with than mice.

You need lots of them and Fabian doesn't have the budget to just keep buying them, so he came up with an aphrodisiac...refracting light off Green Glass Marbles is the equivalent of fish porno movies.

Whenever Fabian starts to get low on testing specimens, he just sprinkles some marbles on the bottom of the aquarium and everybody gets hot and bothered.

The females start squirting eggs out and the guys follow right behind them doing what they do best. Additionally, the now fertilized eggs drift down afterwards into the protective cluster of green marbles where they can't be eaten by the parents and stay there until they can fend for themselves.

I was hoping this might have a similar effect on someone I know, but I'm still waiting and have only succeeded in twisting both my ankles on several occasions.

This is Vern signing off - over & out!

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