Never. Again.
That's pretty much what I was thinking most of my waking hours (oh, and "sleeping" hours, too) the weekend before last as I climbed up and down.. and up and down.. the highest mountain in the Caribbean, Pico Duarte.
You may have noticed the seeming excitement in my last post about the coming 5 day ordeal over our the long weekend that coincided with the Dominican version of President's Day (the birthday of Juan Pablo Duarte, namesake of aforementioned mountain peak). Well, folks, that was the optimism of a man in extreme denial. I had a vague idea that I'd be doing some hiking, but since it was over several days and in such a lush, tropical destination, I think I assumed it would be a peace of cake. (I think another part deep inside realized how difficult it would be but shut up so I would get some much-needed exercise). Besides, other mountains that I've gone very high on--in the Smokies, for example--are pretty easily accessible by car for most of the way. Even at Chimborazo in Ecuador we took a bus almost up to the extent of the ice itself.
Pico Duarte has no ice, even in January (excepting a few frosty rocks in the morning) but what Dominican mountains lack in snowpack they make up for with a surprising steepness.
So, on the afternoon of Thursday, January 27th, several American friends and I met with our Dominican friend Jocabed and her family and friends at the church in Santiago where her father is pastor. After much preparation (and bags and bags of food that would be carried up the mountain on mules, along with our bultos and sleeping bags) we set out and finally reached our first destination a few hours later high up in the mountains at the edge of the national park that includes the pico. The head ranger of the park (who looked like a young Fidel Castro/Santa Claus mix) gave us a solemn talking-to about the importance of caring for the environment and then I spent the first of several nights outside in what turned out to be very, very cold (at least for the D.R., and for sleeping outside).
We woke up before dawn, cranky and still half-asleep, only to share a hurried breakfast and pack the mules before setting right out into the half-darkness of the woods. I quickly figured out "hiking" was less an apt description than "wading-through-knee-deep-mud" uphill. At some point hours later, the mud mellowed a bit and the jungly surroundings transformed into the ferns and dense conifers of a temperate rainforest, and later on into spiky grasses and sparse,broken pines higher up. I filled my water bottle from springs that feed two of the biggest rivers on the entire island (better than the tap, for sure) along the way, and after more climbing (and some rocky descending) I made my way to the base camp some 9 hours after leaving that morning--though I was ended up being the 4th or so of our 25-person group to arrive.
That night in the tent (the previous night had been under an open-air pavilion), I slept more soundly because of how tired I was, but I couldn't help but feel the wind cutting through the canvas walls, especially considering we had climbed more than a mile in elevation that day. Another pre-dawn departure and a few hours more of climbing--this time with some pleasant back and forth Spanish/English with Jocabed's brothers Juan and Jonatán-- until we reached the actual Pico Duarte. A scramble up to the boulders at the top afforded a view not only of Duarte's bust and the bandera dominicana waving in in the breeze, but also a view of most of the island. I saw the Cibao valley to the north, where Santiago lay hidden, but also the mountainous east where Haiti lay and even Lake Enriquillo far to the south and beyond. It was an amazing sight and helped to make the trip more worth more than just a few aching joints.
The unfortunate trip back down to base camp later that morning was less enjoyable: in fact, some ill-timed stomach issues had me hurrying back in the increasing heat, curses increasing as the elevation decreased. Luckily I made it back in time (whew) and didn't have to suffer the fate that Jordan, a fellow traveler, did when she twisted her ankle later that day--and consequently had to (or got to, depending on your outlook) ride one of the smelly, depressing mules the rest of the trip. The rest of the day was spent slipping and sliding down a different mountain, exchanging stories amongst ourselves until we made it down to the valley where we spent the night and the next day (Sunday) resting and exploring the freezing-cold river.
The final day (Monday--el Día de Duarte) we had to dig our way back up out of the valley, this time in a mist that played with being real rain before reaching the ridge from which we could once again go downhill. Needless to say, I was already soaked even before we reached our old friend from the first day- the lodo, or mud. Climbing up mud and slipping down it are two entirely different things, however, and even though I looked like a mud-wrestler by 2:00, I felt more like a mud-surfer (since such things exist). It's hard to describe how I felt when I finally got back to the camp from the first night, but the tears of joy/exasperation on some of my friends' face when they got back said it all. I realized later I had gotten significantly tanner (despite copious sunscreen) and had lost I'm guessing at least 5 pounds, judging from my waistline, so there's that. And the amazing pictures (see facebook soon). And the fact that I climbed a mountain. Ok, so in retrospect it sounds a lot better, as I new it would, but for the first few days after I got back all I could do was stare blank-eyed at those who asked about the trip.
Last week at school was pretty uneventful, and I'm pretty sure that I did something on Friday but can't remember what at all. Sunday (yesterday, the 5th) though was a trip once again to the north coast, this time to the Parque Nacional la Isabella, where is located the first European settlement in the New World (barring those confused vikings in Newfoundland). All that's left are a few skeletons and low walls (and the ruins of Columbus' relatively swanky sea-view hut). That afternoon we visited two different beaches, the first warm and shallow where I found a beautiful finger-length shell that unfortunately already had an owner (who liked to pinch fingers), and the second deep and open with large waves farther out. At this beach, Playa Grande, I also ran into (literally) a few sea urchins and still have the spines in my hand and foot to prove it--though some others (here's looking at you, David) had it a lot worse than me. This beach trip was more than needed, especially after the previous weekend, but it unfortunately ended up with a ton of homework for a parcial or midterm that I was supposed to have this morning in literature class. Luckily the exam was moved, as I was extremely underprepared, but I still didn't get to experience much of the carnaval celebrations going on a block or two up the street at the Monument last night. As it's a month-long thing though, I've got more than enough opportunities left, including next Sunday when I'll be going to La Vega to see the most famous carnaval celebrations in the country. Until then!
Monday, February 6, 2012
Monday, January 23, 2012
Sol, Arena, y Letrinas
So, it's been at least two weeks since I last posted, but since those weeks (and especially weekends) were more than busy I don't feel too bad about being a little late.
I guess it would help to give a little more info about my classes and the university itself. PUCMM is considered the most top-notch school in the D.R., and is even called by some "the Harvard of the Caribbean" (which will sounds both suspect and familiar to my fellow Ole Miss-ers). The school itself takes up a pretty large chunk in the western part of the city, though only a small portion of that is taken up by buildings: the rest is sort of like a larger, more tropical version of the Grove, which I for one am more than happy with.
My classes are about as Crofty as possible: Dominican studies, Spanish (I squeaked by into the advanced level), Caribbean culture and society, Dominican-Haitian relations, and Hispanic-American Literature. The first two are only with other American students from my program, and the next two have a good mix of Americans, Dominican and Haitians, but the literature class is with 25 Dominican students, all of them guys on the road to be priests because it's part of the theology department (!). This is the only class that worried/worries me a little because it proceeds at a pretty rapid pace, meets only once a week (but for three solid hours at a time), and I'm having some problems figuring out my assignments. Hopefully though, everything will work out well as I get into the swing of things, and it's bound to be one of my more rewarding classes. Oh, and I almost forgot about sculpture! Me and Stephen, one of my American friends, along with about 7-8 Dominican girls meet once a week for this class, which really should be called wood-carving since that's the material we're going to be working with exclusively (So far I'm pretty terrible at it, but we'll see).
So, school's taken up most of my time during the week, except for a brief sojourn to a karaoke bar near the University for a friend's birthday and a Jazz Night last monday at a schwanky rooftop club elsewhere in Santiango. The weekends, though, have been even more eventful. Friday before last we went to see la pelota, or a baseball game, in Santiago's stadium. The game was pretty empty because no one expected the Aguilas to win, but win they did! At this point they're playing in the Dominican version of the world series and will move on to the Caribbean World Series (which includes Puerto Rico, Colombia, and others) if they win that. Saturday morning a couple of friends and I caught an early bus to Sosua, a town on the northern coast, to check out the beach. The beach was pretty crowded, but we ate an excellent, if unhealthy, lunch (fried chicken and tostones, fried plaintain chips) and the water was clear and very blue. The only qualm I had with Sosua was that when I swam around with my goggles I found not only fish but a good bit of trash floating around the bottom. This is something to be expected in a touristy place, I guess, but it's the only aspect of life in the D.R. that has attracted my attention negatively. At first I just kept wondering "Why do people just throw out so much trash?" After a little bit of more objective thinking I've come to the conclusion that the trash that's so common on roadsides and even downtown is more a testament to the failure of effective sanitation services and government in general than to Dominicans' penchant for littering. In fact, I'd imagine we'd probably have even more trash at home than here if we didn't have so many inmates doing the picking up. Anyway, trash wasn't a problem at all at la playa Ensenada, the beach we went to as a group on Sunday. Words really can't describe (and pictures don't do justice) to how amazingly beautiful this place was. We spent the morning on the actual beach and after a huge and delicious lunch (I ate a whole parrotfish), several of us took a long boat ride that took us past many more beaches and a mangrove swamp to a tiny sandbar way out in the ocean, surrounded by coral reefs where we went snorkeling all afternoon and where I was buried up to my head in sand by my obliging fellow snorkelers.
This past weekend's activities were somewhat more sober: we traveled to a community in the mountains between Santiago and Puerto Plata and helped to build latrines (read: outhouses) for the people there. We were there from Friday to Sunday and I'm happy to say that the only bad thing about the trip was the cold at night when we tried to sleep. We got a lot done though, and I was glad to be able to do something other than just enjoy myself 24/7 (how selfless of me, I know). This week is well on its way now, and more than full of homework, so I'm already looking forward to this weekend, when I'll be going on a 4-day hike to the top of Pico Duarte, the highest peak in the Caribbean, with some of our Dominican friends' church group. Until then, ¡Adios!
I guess it would help to give a little more info about my classes and the university itself. PUCMM is considered the most top-notch school in the D.R., and is even called by some "the Harvard of the Caribbean" (which will sounds both suspect and familiar to my fellow Ole Miss-ers). The school itself takes up a pretty large chunk in the western part of the city, though only a small portion of that is taken up by buildings: the rest is sort of like a larger, more tropical version of the Grove, which I for one am more than happy with.
My classes are about as Crofty as possible: Dominican studies, Spanish (I squeaked by into the advanced level), Caribbean culture and society, Dominican-Haitian relations, and Hispanic-American Literature. The first two are only with other American students from my program, and the next two have a good mix of Americans, Dominican and Haitians, but the literature class is with 25 Dominican students, all of them guys on the road to be priests because it's part of the theology department (!). This is the only class that worried/worries me a little because it proceeds at a pretty rapid pace, meets only once a week (but for three solid hours at a time), and I'm having some problems figuring out my assignments. Hopefully though, everything will work out well as I get into the swing of things, and it's bound to be one of my more rewarding classes. Oh, and I almost forgot about sculpture! Me and Stephen, one of my American friends, along with about 7-8 Dominican girls meet once a week for this class, which really should be called wood-carving since that's the material we're going to be working with exclusively (So far I'm pretty terrible at it, but we'll see).
So, school's taken up most of my time during the week, except for a brief sojourn to a karaoke bar near the University for a friend's birthday and a Jazz Night last monday at a schwanky rooftop club elsewhere in Santiango. The weekends, though, have been even more eventful. Friday before last we went to see la pelota, or a baseball game, in Santiago's stadium. The game was pretty empty because no one expected the Aguilas to win, but win they did! At this point they're playing in the Dominican version of the world series and will move on to the Caribbean World Series (which includes Puerto Rico, Colombia, and others) if they win that. Saturday morning a couple of friends and I caught an early bus to Sosua, a town on the northern coast, to check out the beach. The beach was pretty crowded, but we ate an excellent, if unhealthy, lunch (fried chicken and tostones, fried plaintain chips) and the water was clear and very blue. The only qualm I had with Sosua was that when I swam around with my goggles I found not only fish but a good bit of trash floating around the bottom. This is something to be expected in a touristy place, I guess, but it's the only aspect of life in the D.R. that has attracted my attention negatively. At first I just kept wondering "Why do people just throw out so much trash?" After a little bit of more objective thinking I've come to the conclusion that the trash that's so common on roadsides and even downtown is more a testament to the failure of effective sanitation services and government in general than to Dominicans' penchant for littering. In fact, I'd imagine we'd probably have even more trash at home than here if we didn't have so many inmates doing the picking up. Anyway, trash wasn't a problem at all at la playa Ensenada, the beach we went to as a group on Sunday. Words really can't describe (and pictures don't do justice) to how amazingly beautiful this place was. We spent the morning on the actual beach and after a huge and delicious lunch (I ate a whole parrotfish), several of us took a long boat ride that took us past many more beaches and a mangrove swamp to a tiny sandbar way out in the ocean, surrounded by coral reefs where we went snorkeling all afternoon and where I was buried up to my head in sand by my obliging fellow snorkelers.
This past weekend's activities were somewhat more sober: we traveled to a community in the mountains between Santiago and Puerto Plata and helped to build latrines (read: outhouses) for the people there. We were there from Friday to Sunday and I'm happy to say that the only bad thing about the trip was the cold at night when we tried to sleep. We got a lot done though, and I was glad to be able to do something other than just enjoy myself 24/7 (how selfless of me, I know). This week is well on its way now, and more than full of homework, so I'm already looking forward to this weekend, when I'll be going on a 4-day hike to the top of Pico Duarte, the highest peak in the Caribbean, with some of our Dominican friends' church group. Until then, ¡Adios!
Monday, January 9, 2012
Santiago: "Noh vamoh a orientar"
Santiago at last! Well actually that's a bit of a belated statement since I've now been here for almost a full week exactly, but my excitement is still running pretty high (perhaps due to the fact that I got to have a little taste of home--Pizza Hut--for lunch). Better to start from the beginning, though.
After waking up pretty early last Morning, stopping at Meme and Papa's house to say goodbye and Walmart to pick up the last necessities (sunscreen, a cover for my kindle, and an alarm clock radio--battery powered), I drove with the folks and Anna Laurie to catch my flight in Birmingham. My Uncle Ken and [cousin] Alex met us at the airport to say goodbye as well, and with plenty of time to spare I said my despedidas (love you guys!) and boarded my connecting flight to Miami.
That flight was pretty uneventful, except for the amazing views of the city as we landed, but once there I was able to meet several of the other students going to Santiago, all of whom are more than nice and fun to be around. After a short delay for the second half of my flight we were greeted in the airport by the director of our exchange program, Lynne, and the coordinator, Ryan, who escorted us to the university where our host mothers were ready to pick us up.
My host mom, Genarina Fernández, is older and lives alone, but always has friends and relatives over, and is super amable. I also have a temporary host sister, Alex, who's here for a few weeks from NYU with a graduate program.
Genarina's house is in a very nice neighborhood called la Zurza, a short walk away from the university, PUCMM (an acronym pronounced "Poo-ka-my-ma") and an even shorter walk from Santiago's most famous landmark, the former monument to the dictator Trujillo and now Monument to the Heroes of the Restoration (a war fought to free the country of Spain's dastardly clutches in the 19th century--here's a link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monumento_de_Santiago). Neither my room (nor, I think, does the rest of the house) have air conditioning, even though it's quite a nice place, but this is pretty common. Luckily it isn't really too big a deal because most rooms have really powerful fans to keep out the heat. The other most notable thing about living with Genarina is that she has two outside dogs and three cats that come in and out. Usually I'm deathly allergic to cats, but they haven't really affected me so far, I think because all the open windows and doors keep any allergens from building up. Oh and did I mention that two of the cats were pregnant when I got here, and that they both gave birth today? Yep, the cat population of my house more than tripled in one day.
I'll save the descriptions of the university and the city for another post, to keep this one from getting over-large, but here's a recap on the actual activities up to this point: various tours of the university and the city (including a scavenger hunt), a couple of trips to discotecas at night with the estudiantes de apoyo, Dominican students who volunteer to help with us clueless foreigners, a dance class with said students, and a whole lot more. Sunday we even took a day trip to the capital, Santo Domingo, and toured both the old colonial zone (including cathedrals, the old fort, and the ruins of sugar mills) which is really the first permanent European settlement in the New World. Today gave us a little downtime with a low-key discussion at Lynne's house and then a moving dinner, where all of the foreign students in our area went to each other's host homes for different courses (all muy rico of course). Tomorrow classes start, though, for which I should probably get some sleep! Expect a (perhaps sobering) description of life at PUCMM in the next post. ¡Hasta luego!
After waking up pretty early last Morning, stopping at Meme and Papa's house to say goodbye and Walmart to pick up the last necessities (sunscreen, a cover for my kindle, and an alarm clock radio--battery powered), I drove with the folks and Anna Laurie to catch my flight in Birmingham. My Uncle Ken and [cousin] Alex met us at the airport to say goodbye as well, and with plenty of time to spare I said my despedidas (love you guys!) and boarded my connecting flight to Miami.
That flight was pretty uneventful, except for the amazing views of the city as we landed, but once there I was able to meet several of the other students going to Santiago, all of whom are more than nice and fun to be around. After a short delay for the second half of my flight we were greeted in the airport by the director of our exchange program, Lynne, and the coordinator, Ryan, who escorted us to the university where our host mothers were ready to pick us up.
My host mom, Genarina Fernández, is older and lives alone, but always has friends and relatives over, and is super amable. I also have a temporary host sister, Alex, who's here for a few weeks from NYU with a graduate program.
Genarina's house is in a very nice neighborhood called la Zurza, a short walk away from the university, PUCMM (an acronym pronounced "Poo-ka-my-ma") and an even shorter walk from Santiago's most famous landmark, the former monument to the dictator Trujillo and now Monument to the Heroes of the Restoration (a war fought to free the country of Spain's dastardly clutches in the 19th century--here's a link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monumento_de_Santiago). Neither my room (nor, I think, does the rest of the house) have air conditioning, even though it's quite a nice place, but this is pretty common. Luckily it isn't really too big a deal because most rooms have really powerful fans to keep out the heat. The other most notable thing about living with Genarina is that she has two outside dogs and three cats that come in and out. Usually I'm deathly allergic to cats, but they haven't really affected me so far, I think because all the open windows and doors keep any allergens from building up. Oh and did I mention that two of the cats were pregnant when I got here, and that they both gave birth today? Yep, the cat population of my house more than tripled in one day.
I'll save the descriptions of the university and the city for another post, to keep this one from getting over-large, but here's a recap on the actual activities up to this point: various tours of the university and the city (including a scavenger hunt), a couple of trips to discotecas at night with the estudiantes de apoyo, Dominican students who volunteer to help with us clueless foreigners, a dance class with said students, and a whole lot more. Sunday we even took a day trip to the capital, Santo Domingo, and toured both the old colonial zone (including cathedrals, the old fort, and the ruins of sugar mills) which is really the first permanent European settlement in the New World. Today gave us a little downtime with a low-key discussion at Lynne's house and then a moving dinner, where all of the foreign students in our area went to each other's host homes for different courses (all muy rico of course). Tomorrow classes start, though, for which I should probably get some sleep! Expect a (perhaps sobering) description of life at PUCMM in the next post. ¡Hasta luego!
Sunday, January 1, 2012
La vida dominicana: la preparación
Though my last blog post ended a long time ago on a bit of a cliffhanger (stuck in Quito with Rachel and Anna), allow me to remind everyone that I did, in fact, make it back to America, after a satisfying detour to Costa Rica. Everything since I got back in August sort of ran together; with school, work, and helping with the Honors College occupying my time, the semester turned into one long string of alternating fun and stress.
Not that I'm complaining. I've seen myself at both my laziest and most productive, my happiest and (almost) my most depressed. But the help of my family at home and friends--old and new--at school has helped to make it a time I won't forget.
Right now most of it feels like just one long lead-up to my newest path, though: my spring abroad in the Dominican Republic. My hopes? Becoming as fluent as possible in Spanish, becoming close to my Dominican family and making new friends, learning the value of a different kind of life. Expectations? About the same, minus the optimism of fluency. At any rate, though, I can take solace that I'm bound to get at least a little better with the language, especially if I go the harder route and actually try to immerse myself in the culture (and don't cloister myself with other exchange students).
I'm guessing I'll probably end up somewhere in between what I want and what my realism/skepticism/pessimism thinks. What I'm sure of, though, is that this is going to be a time that will stick with me, probably change me in ways I won't be able to predict, and if I'm being honest, I could do with a few changes. Ready for a brand new start, and here's hoping I'm ready to take it!
Cualquier destino, por largo y complicado que sea, consta en realidad de un solo momento: el momento en que el hombre sabe para siempre quién es. -Jorge Luis Borges
Not that I'm complaining. I've seen myself at both my laziest and most productive, my happiest and (almost) my most depressed. But the help of my family at home and friends--old and new--at school has helped to make it a time I won't forget.
Right now most of it feels like just one long lead-up to my newest path, though: my spring abroad in the Dominican Republic. My hopes? Becoming as fluent as possible in Spanish, becoming close to my Dominican family and making new friends, learning the value of a different kind of life. Expectations? About the same, minus the optimism of fluency. At any rate, though, I can take solace that I'm bound to get at least a little better with the language, especially if I go the harder route and actually try to immerse myself in the culture (and don't cloister myself with other exchange students).
I'm guessing I'll probably end up somewhere in between what I want and what my realism/skepticism/pessimism thinks. What I'm sure of, though, is that this is going to be a time that will stick with me, probably change me in ways I won't be able to predict, and if I'm being honest, I could do with a few changes. Ready for a brand new start, and here's hoping I'm ready to take it!
Cualquier destino, por largo y complicado que sea, consta en realidad de un solo momento: el momento en que el hombre sabe para siempre quién es. -Jorge Luis Borges
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Cholas, Chimborazo y Chuchaqui
Bueno. As I write what is likely to be an extremely long blog post due to my carencia de recent computer activity, I feel the need to confess that I am still in Quito. Yes, despite the fact that I was to be in Costa Rica about now. But, first things first, and I have quite a few good things to recount before we get to today's unfortunate circumstances.
So the Thursday before last (wow, yeah, I have been lazy)after taking un examen mortífero (killer exam), nearly all the members of our group made our various ways to downtown Quito to eat at a nice seafood restaurant owned by Cameron and Drew's host family. Before that, though, Rachel and Claire and I decided to go to Mass at an old church in the historical center, near the presidential palace, la Iglesia de la Compañía de Jesús. The outside is pretty legit, but pretty much every square inch of the inside is covered with gold. Not kidding, look for yourself: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Church_of_the_Society_of_Jesus . It was a bit awkward, since I was the only Protestant in the vicinity, but completely worth it. After that, we went to the restaurant, where Cameron's host brother Matteo had had a whole room set up for the, oh, 27 or so of us. The portions were enormous and the platter I shared with Rachel and Grace Anne had mussels, clams, small shrimp, jumbo shrimp, calimari, and lobster. Yeah, needless to say we were both flabbergasted and stuffed.
Fairly early the next morning we met once more at the University, only this time to go south to the medium-sized city of Riobamba, which is a little bit colder and higher than Quito, and is super-close to the Volcano Chimborazo (in Ecuador you can pretty much assume there's a volcano lurking somewhere around you). When we got to Riobamba we checked in to our hotel the Galpón. This hotel looked very similar to the one in The Shining, if you can imagine, but it was a lot of fun to be there and around everyone for almost a week, after having lived separately for so long beforehand in Quito. That afternoon after checking in we took a tour of an old convent, which was positively lleno with creepy sculptures of Mary with glass eyes and super-gory Jesuses (one complete with a hole in his side where you could see his heart beating when the wind blew).
Saturday was our day to climb Chimborazo (or actually a small part of it). Our bus was somehow able to climb a good ways up a mountain before we got to the refugio (sort of like a base camp). From there, after a little coca tea (the same stuff they use to make cocaine, but also still put in Coca-Cola) we braved the cold, the wind, and the stinging dust to climb even higher up the Volcano until we reached the ice that covers the entire top of the mountain. Did I mention that the summit of this mountain is more than 20,000 feet above sea level, taller than any mountain in North America or Europe, and about 4 times higher than Denver, the "mile-high city?" Oh, or that, owing to the bulge of the earth at the equator, is the point farthest from the center of the earth (more than Everest)? Yeah, pretty dang chévere (friggin awesome). On top of this, on the side of a huge boulder near the bottom of the glacier someone had spraypainted "Union City." Just can't escape your hometown, ha.
The rest of that weekend consisted of visiting the last ice man (who treks to the volcano twice a week, cuts of huge blocks of ice, loads them on his mules and sells it at the market in town), seeing the mummy of a Spanish priest who had been entombed in his own church after an earthquake, and eating some tasty donuty sort of things called cholas (also a semi-derogatory name for Indian women) in a town called Guano (also a semi-derogatory name for bat poop). After these adventures, it was back to the grind, only this time with our classes taking place in the cultural center in Riobamba, and with new professors. Yet, time passed rather quickly in Fríobamba (frío=cold) and by this past Thursday night we were back in Quito before we knew it, and not missing the food at the Galpón one bit.
Friday was our farewell dinner, with the university feeding us at a very nice restaurant on campus, affiliated with their culinary program (bread, sesame seed-covered shrimp with salad, soup, filet mignon with potatoes, and for dessert some sort of cookie topped with blackberry ice cream, whipped cream, and real blackberries and strawberries). Saturday was the day most people left, except for those of us going to Costa Rica and a few leaving late, so we decided to go to the art market in a park in Quito, where stalls and stalls of vendors were selling their wares. I ended up buying a few souvenirs for my friends and fam and also a couple of nice watercolors for my room this year. It started raining, though, and we took refuge in the big cathedral right next the presidential palace, I couldn't take any pictures, but it was amazing (and with significantly fewer gory Jesuses [or Jesii?]). I went home fairly early and took a nap before my family (host mom and grandparents) took me out for a final tour of the city by night.
Which brings me to today, finally. I woke up fairly early to pack, and my host mom and grandma cooked my a huge, delicious lunch, including vegetables, potatoes, roast turkey, and cow's foot soup (which was interesting, I will say.) They drove me to the airport and we said our goodbyes, promising to keep in touch, and that they should visit mississippi if they ever had such a mad desire. It was pretty emotional, though, and I will miss all of them; I couldn't have asked for a nicer bunch.
I'll try not to go too much into what happened in the airport after that, but here goes a short summary: 1) airline tells us our yellow fever vaccination records aren't "international" and so can't get on the flight 2)we go to the ministry of health to fix it, but can't because it's closed 3)return to airport, and are told to go to their office in some mall 4)go to the mall, and finally kind of sort of get the situation taken care of with the woman there 5) go to a hotel for the night. Meanwhile, of course, we missed our flight and all of the trouble is over having to get the immunization fixed and find another flight for tomorrow. Meanwhile, Cameron, who had the appropriate vaccination form since he got his in America, is in Costa Rica alone while the other three of us bumble around here trying to get everything fixed. In the morning we've got to go get the vaccinations fixed, Ojalá (God-willing) and then back to the mall to get our tickets and finally to the airport and to Costa Rica. Wish me luck, I know we'll need it. I'll try to post again soon but I'm guessing I'll be too busy if/when we finally get to Costa Rica. Until then though! Ecuador, you've been swell! Hasta la vista (until we see each other again)!
So the Thursday before last (wow, yeah, I have been lazy)after taking un examen mortífero (killer exam), nearly all the members of our group made our various ways to downtown Quito to eat at a nice seafood restaurant owned by Cameron and Drew's host family. Before that, though, Rachel and Claire and I decided to go to Mass at an old church in the historical center, near the presidential palace, la Iglesia de la Compañía de Jesús. The outside is pretty legit, but pretty much every square inch of the inside is covered with gold. Not kidding, look for yourself: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Church_of_the_Society_of_Jesus . It was a bit awkward, since I was the only Protestant in the vicinity, but completely worth it. After that, we went to the restaurant, where Cameron's host brother Matteo had had a whole room set up for the, oh, 27 or so of us. The portions were enormous and the platter I shared with Rachel and Grace Anne had mussels, clams, small shrimp, jumbo shrimp, calimari, and lobster. Yeah, needless to say we were both flabbergasted and stuffed.
Fairly early the next morning we met once more at the University, only this time to go south to the medium-sized city of Riobamba, which is a little bit colder and higher than Quito, and is super-close to the Volcano Chimborazo (in Ecuador you can pretty much assume there's a volcano lurking somewhere around you). When we got to Riobamba we checked in to our hotel the Galpón. This hotel looked very similar to the one in The Shining, if you can imagine, but it was a lot of fun to be there and around everyone for almost a week, after having lived separately for so long beforehand in Quito. That afternoon after checking in we took a tour of an old convent, which was positively lleno with creepy sculptures of Mary with glass eyes and super-gory Jesuses (one complete with a hole in his side where you could see his heart beating when the wind blew).
Saturday was our day to climb Chimborazo (or actually a small part of it). Our bus was somehow able to climb a good ways up a mountain before we got to the refugio (sort of like a base camp). From there, after a little coca tea (the same stuff they use to make cocaine, but also still put in Coca-Cola) we braved the cold, the wind, and the stinging dust to climb even higher up the Volcano until we reached the ice that covers the entire top of the mountain. Did I mention that the summit of this mountain is more than 20,000 feet above sea level, taller than any mountain in North America or Europe, and about 4 times higher than Denver, the "mile-high city?" Oh, or that, owing to the bulge of the earth at the equator, is the point farthest from the center of the earth (more than Everest)? Yeah, pretty dang chévere (friggin awesome). On top of this, on the side of a huge boulder near the bottom of the glacier someone had spraypainted "Union City." Just can't escape your hometown, ha.
The rest of that weekend consisted of visiting the last ice man (who treks to the volcano twice a week, cuts of huge blocks of ice, loads them on his mules and sells it at the market in town), seeing the mummy of a Spanish priest who had been entombed in his own church after an earthquake, and eating some tasty donuty sort of things called cholas (also a semi-derogatory name for Indian women) in a town called Guano (also a semi-derogatory name for bat poop). After these adventures, it was back to the grind, only this time with our classes taking place in the cultural center in Riobamba, and with new professors. Yet, time passed rather quickly in Fríobamba (frío=cold) and by this past Thursday night we were back in Quito before we knew it, and not missing the food at the Galpón one bit.
Friday was our farewell dinner, with the university feeding us at a very nice restaurant on campus, affiliated with their culinary program (bread, sesame seed-covered shrimp with salad, soup, filet mignon with potatoes, and for dessert some sort of cookie topped with blackberry ice cream, whipped cream, and real blackberries and strawberries). Saturday was the day most people left, except for those of us going to Costa Rica and a few leaving late, so we decided to go to the art market in a park in Quito, where stalls and stalls of vendors were selling their wares. I ended up buying a few souvenirs for my friends and fam and also a couple of nice watercolors for my room this year. It started raining, though, and we took refuge in the big cathedral right next the presidential palace, I couldn't take any pictures, but it was amazing (and with significantly fewer gory Jesuses [or Jesii?]). I went home fairly early and took a nap before my family (host mom and grandparents) took me out for a final tour of the city by night.
Which brings me to today, finally. I woke up fairly early to pack, and my host mom and grandma cooked my a huge, delicious lunch, including vegetables, potatoes, roast turkey, and cow's foot soup (which was interesting, I will say.) They drove me to the airport and we said our goodbyes, promising to keep in touch, and that they should visit mississippi if they ever had such a mad desire. It was pretty emotional, though, and I will miss all of them; I couldn't have asked for a nicer bunch.
I'll try not to go too much into what happened in the airport after that, but here goes a short summary: 1) airline tells us our yellow fever vaccination records aren't "international" and so can't get on the flight 2)we go to the ministry of health to fix it, but can't because it's closed 3)return to airport, and are told to go to their office in some mall 4)go to the mall, and finally kind of sort of get the situation taken care of with the woman there 5) go to a hotel for the night. Meanwhile, of course, we missed our flight and all of the trouble is over having to get the immunization fixed and find another flight for tomorrow. Meanwhile, Cameron, who had the appropriate vaccination form since he got his in America, is in Costa Rica alone while the other three of us bumble around here trying to get everything fixed. In the morning we've got to go get the vaccinations fixed, Ojalá (God-willing) and then back to the mall to get our tickets and finally to the airport and to Costa Rica. Wish me luck, I know we'll need it. I'll try to post again soon but I'm guessing I'll be too busy if/when we finally get to Costa Rica. Until then though! Ecuador, you've been swell! Hasta la vista (until we see each other again)!
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Tiputini, o Misisipi del Sur
The Amazon. When you hear of it, you may think amazing views of untouched wilderness, a monkey on every branch, an anaconda in every pond, and a whole lot of mosquitoes. And you'd be pretty much right.
Such was our trip this past weekend to the Tiputini Biodiversity Station, way out in the middle of the Ecuadorian rainforest. The weekend really began on Thursday, after classes ended and most of us went out for the night to the Plaza Foch otra vez, only this time with my host mother's niece and nephew (16 and 19 respectively). Suffice it to say that a good time was had by all and we were back home by midnight, although this didn't stop my host cousin from putting the moves on multiple of my amigas (who shall remain nameless) at the salsa club.
The next morning, very early and everyone perhaps a little worse for wear for lack of sleep, we met at the university and then took a bus to the airport, from whence we took a short (and late) flight to Coca, a small city on the Rio Napo on the edge of the rainforest. From there, it was a two hour boat ride on the Napo until we got to the Oil Company's land (which was once part of the huge Yasuni National Park, but was ceded by the government so Ecuador could have the less than $2.00 a gallon subsidized gas that it now enjoys). There, we took an open-sided bus provided by said evil oil company for about an hour and a half more until we got to the much smaller Tiputini river. By this point we were really in the jungle and on our two hours more of boating we saw pink river dolphins, otters, parrots, not to mention a veritable monsoon by the time we got the the station.
The Tiputini Biodiversity station, which is really a cluster of buildings situated on land granted the University by the Goverment in the national park, is a place devoted to biological research and education, and at least some of its projects are funded by National Geographic. There were probably about 70 people there, total, including our almost 40-person group. The food was quite nice, and so were the cabins, although it was a little difficult to get used to the lack of air-conditioning and the cold showers. But, hey, being in the Amazon is worth a little sacrifice, right?
While we were there, we basically took four different excursions. Saturday morning we tromped through the jungle with our guide, Santiago, to the tower, which was basically a treehouse attached to a huge tree sticking up over the canopy, from which we saw spider monkeys, wooly monkeys, a toucan, a hawk, other birds, and enormous ants with a bite powerful enough to down a grown man with one bite. That afternoon we took another significant walk to an oxbow lake near the river and took a canoe ride where we saw more birds (including one with an uncanny resemblance to a phoenix a la Harry Potter) and a freshwater manta ray. Sunday morning consisted of ride down river, where we saw multiple caiman (like an alligator) in the water and then proceeded to SWIM in the water. Surviving that, that same afternoon we finally got to do what was perhaps the coolest adventure, a series of bridges strung between several trees way up in the canopy from which you could see the forest for miles and miles, and nothing but.
Maybe it was the overpowering heat and humidity, but the jungle actually reminded me of Mississippi, only with less chickens and more jaguars. It kind of made me wonder what home would look like with out all the human influence that's there now.. Just a point to ponder. Anyway, yesterday we made our long, slow way back to Quito by the various means, only to have to write an essay for class as soon as I got back (pobrecito yo, I know). I got it done (later rather than sooner) though, and now am able to look past the dreadful-looking workload for this week's classes to tonight, when I should be able to see the final Harry Potter movie, complete with Spanish subtitles! What an (ahem) magical ending to a great weekend [insert corny laugh]. Hasta Riobamba!
Such was our trip this past weekend to the Tiputini Biodiversity Station, way out in the middle of the Ecuadorian rainforest. The weekend really began on Thursday, after classes ended and most of us went out for the night to the Plaza Foch otra vez, only this time with my host mother's niece and nephew (16 and 19 respectively). Suffice it to say that a good time was had by all and we were back home by midnight, although this didn't stop my host cousin from putting the moves on multiple of my amigas (who shall remain nameless) at the salsa club.
The next morning, very early and everyone perhaps a little worse for wear for lack of sleep, we met at the university and then took a bus to the airport, from whence we took a short (and late) flight to Coca, a small city on the Rio Napo on the edge of the rainforest. From there, it was a two hour boat ride on the Napo until we got to the Oil Company's land (which was once part of the huge Yasuni National Park, but was ceded by the government so Ecuador could have the less than $2.00 a gallon subsidized gas that it now enjoys). There, we took an open-sided bus provided by said evil oil company for about an hour and a half more until we got to the much smaller Tiputini river. By this point we were really in the jungle and on our two hours more of boating we saw pink river dolphins, otters, parrots, not to mention a veritable monsoon by the time we got the the station.
The Tiputini Biodiversity station, which is really a cluster of buildings situated on land granted the University by the Goverment in the national park, is a place devoted to biological research and education, and at least some of its projects are funded by National Geographic. There were probably about 70 people there, total, including our almost 40-person group. The food was quite nice, and so were the cabins, although it was a little difficult to get used to the lack of air-conditioning and the cold showers. But, hey, being in the Amazon is worth a little sacrifice, right?
While we were there, we basically took four different excursions. Saturday morning we tromped through the jungle with our guide, Santiago, to the tower, which was basically a treehouse attached to a huge tree sticking up over the canopy, from which we saw spider monkeys, wooly monkeys, a toucan, a hawk, other birds, and enormous ants with a bite powerful enough to down a grown man with one bite. That afternoon we took another significant walk to an oxbow lake near the river and took a canoe ride where we saw more birds (including one with an uncanny resemblance to a phoenix a la Harry Potter) and a freshwater manta ray. Sunday morning consisted of ride down river, where we saw multiple caiman (like an alligator) in the water and then proceeded to SWIM in the water. Surviving that, that same afternoon we finally got to do what was perhaps the coolest adventure, a series of bridges strung between several trees way up in the canopy from which you could see the forest for miles and miles, and nothing but.
Maybe it was the overpowering heat and humidity, but the jungle actually reminded me of Mississippi, only with less chickens and more jaguars. It kind of made me wonder what home would look like with out all the human influence that's there now.. Just a point to ponder. Anyway, yesterday we made our long, slow way back to Quito by the various means, only to have to write an essay for class as soon as I got back (pobrecito yo, I know). I got it done (later rather than sooner) though, and now am able to look past the dreadful-looking workload for this week's classes to tonight, when I should be able to see the final Harry Potter movie, complete with Spanish subtitles! What an (ahem) magical ending to a great weekend [insert corny laugh]. Hasta Riobamba!
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Los gringos en Baños
Since the last post at the beginning of the week, we´ve had more class, of course, but also a lot more fun, both here in Quito and in Baños, a small touristy sort of town farther up in the mountains to the south.
Before I get to Baños, though, I have to tell about our adventures in la Plaza Foch in Quito on Thursday night. La Plaza Foch is basically the place where a lot of young (and a few not so young) Quiteños go out on the weekends. More importantly, though, some locals refer to it as Gringolandia, or the Land of the Gringos (white people, or North Americans). Perhaps because it was a Thursday, though, we didn´t see as many of our fellow Gringos as we thought we might. We did get a letdown when the waitresses at the Mexican restaurant where we ate gave us the English menus. It´s pretty hard to seem anything but American when there´s a huge group (half blonde) of chicos swarming around the most touristy part of the city, usually being ridiculously loud. Anway, being obvious gringos didn´t ruin our night, after we ate we barhopped for a few hours and then we (or I did anyway) got back to my host family before midnight, lest I turn into a calabeza. Or something like that.
Entonces. Friday, after class and after I had time to catch a bus to my house and back to exchange my books for weekend clothes, We (the majority of us here from Ole Miss, minus a few who decided to take a relatively pricey trip to the beach) all loaded up on a charter bus and took a three or four hour bus ride to Baños, which is not terribly far as the condor flies, but takes a good while considering that roads at least in this part of Ecuador have to wind up and around mountains and pretty much stop in every little town. When we finally arrived at about 7, we checked into our hotel (which was estupendo) and most of us went out to eat at pretty good restaurant that had mostly Italian food (despite being called the Café Dusseldorf..go figure). After we ate (mine was pollo milanesa, a sort of fried filet of tenderized chicken, with pasta) we made our way to a kind of weird bar called the Leprechaun, where the girls got hit on by traveling Irish accountants (I can´t make this stuff up.), and when we were all leprechauned out we went back to the hotel where I´m certain we kept everyone up with our antics until pretty late (here´s looking at you, Shruti and Brock).
On Saturday, after much delays waiting around for everyone to check out the hotel, we explored Baños for a little bit and about 10 of us decided on visiting what Baños (literally, the Baths) is supposedly famous for, its "hot springs." Come to find out, at least with the ones we found, "hot springs" was more like "heated pool filled with mineral water and tons of Baneños." If you can imagine about 8 super awkward looking gringos in tight wad in a pool, being stared at by about 200 ecuadorians, you´ve got pretty much the right image in mind. When we left the "hot springs" we rushed back to the hotel for quick showers (the water was a little sketchy) and got ready to take a tour of the area on a chiva, which is sort of a bus with open sides, painted crazy colors and playing super loud dance music all the time (people rent them for birthday parties and holidays usually). This, though, was basically a waterfall tour, one where we saw some pretty amazing cascadas and mountains, too, all enormous and breathtakingly beautiful. The most literally breathtaking part, though, was this sort of open gondola ride that wooshed us over one of these huge gorges where the waterfall ended up. Surprisingly, it wasn´t as scary as it was just an awesome rush. The chiva tour was the best 4 dollars I think I´ve ever spent, and it sort of made me realize how big everything in the world really is, especially outside of what seems to be the orderly, contained environment of the U.S.
We went out again on Saturday (although with much less fervor, in my case, since I was about dead), and returned to Quito on Sunday afternoon after buying a few souvenirs (got you something for your classroom, Anna Laurie). Since then, it´s been back to the grind, and I had to write a paper that Sunday night, and am currently in the middle of a group project for tomorrow. If I can get the internet working well at home, I´ll try to post some pictures of everything on here and/or on facebook tonight. Hasta entonces!
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