"A Lot of Rolling and Shakin Goin On"

Wow! Wouldn't you know it! The minute I leave Ecuador, and you all decide to throw a party, and not invite me to it. Imagine the stories I'd have to tell next week to my co-workers and students that I had survived the Earthquake of 8/11. I can hear them now, "and you want to move there?" Considering the level of fireworks that frequently go off in Cuenca, which generally sound like dynamite explosions, was the earthquake by any chance a cultural thing? I mean if 8/10 was the celebration of Ecuadorian independence, wouldn't a big holiday comparable to our 4th of July require something a little more significant to celebrate than Cuenca's everyday fireworks--like an earthquake? Well, I'm glad there was no serious destruction,that all of you were kept safe, and that you're just going to have to put a brake on all that excessive partying.

I returned home safely and without a hitch. There were only small delays, and short of human transporting, the flights could not have gone smoother. I only spent one evening in Quito. I did not get a real feel for the city, and only saw the part of the city that ran from the airport to the Quito Hotel. Obviously, like Cuenca, the city is not a high-rise density city like Chicago or New York City. However, it does have a greater sense of bigness and traffic that is missing in Cuenca. As soon as I left the airport, the fellow who put the bags in my taxi, immediately asked for a tip, and before we could get a block down the road, the taxi driver was approached by two beggars tapping on the window. Certainly it was a contrast to what was experienced in Cuenca.

The Quito Hotel was quite nice and very large. No water conservation here. When I took a shower, the water hit me like a fire hose and practically knocked me against the back wall of the tub. Needless to say, it made for a great shower. I was told the hotel restaurant was on the seventh floor. I made my way up the elevator. Took one look at the restaurant, which had white table cloths that extended to the floor. There were enough wine glasses and silverware on the tables, that I would have needed an etiquette class to know how to use all the cutlery. The scene was fit for the Queen of England, but with me in my collarless shirt and jeans, and a pocketbook that did not want to even anticipate the cost; got back on the elevator and decided to take a chance on what may be out on the streets of Quito. There was a gambling casino next to the hotel, so I assume gambling is legal in Ecuador, or at least in Quito. I don't recall seeing casinos in Cuenca. There was a South American chain fast-food restaurant across the street from the hotel. I ordered the Special Numeral Uno, which was some kind of personalized enchilada plate. It appeared to have been baked in a throw-a-way dish, and was quite good for fast-food. What I enjoyed is how the young man brings out the dish to you, and presents it as if I was about to dine on something special. I've experienced this in the hamburger chain just down the hill from La Cuadra II while I was in Cuenca. The other difference from fast-foods here in the states is that while people order at the counter, they do not pay the bill until after they have completed their meal. I wonder what that says about the basic level of Ecuadorian values that people can be trusted to pay in a fast-food restaurant after they eat?

I guess now that I am back in the states, I will have to get over asking every Hispanic person I see if they are from Ecuador. In the Miami Airport, a very attractive and classy woman asked if she could share my table with me, since the food court tables were occupied. I, of course, did the chivalrous thing and invited her to join me at my table. I asked if she was from Ecuador, but she said she was from Argentina, which would have given us endless options for discussion. Unfortunately, her English was limited. I couldn't let this opportunity pass, so I began whatever feeble Spanish I could muster just so I would have an excuse to look at her. She patronizingly incurred my miserable Spanish, and my mission was accomplished. After she completed her sandwich, she thanked me for sharing my table and moved on. Then a man managed enough English to ask if he and the two women with him could share my table with me, and I was much obliged. While he ran around getting their three orders filled, I asked the ladies if they were from Ecuador. No, they were from Bolivia. The one woman remind me of myself, and some of the grammatically-twisted and misused worded conversations I had with Ecuadorians. She said, "I am from San Francisco." Her sister said, "No, I am from San Francisco." She replied, "That's what I said, "I am from San Francisco."

I knew I was home, when I walked out of O'Hare Airport, and was smacked in the face with the humidity. It's been in the 90's all week in Chicago with at least two more days of 90 degree heat through Saturday. Today's heat index will be 100 degrees. Thank God, when school begins next week the temperatures at least as now reported will be in the low 80's and in the 70's. Our building is not air-conditioned, and the humidity especially can be killing.

Taking the regional transport bus to my hometown provided us with an Hispanic bus driver. Many Hispanics live in the Chicago area, but generally Anglos just see them as Hispanic, or assume they are Mexican or Puerto Rican, since these two groups have been the largest Hispanic groups with roots going back a hundred years in Chicago. I was surprised to learn that there are 400,000 Ecuadorians living in the Chicago Metropolitan area. Since I was sitting in the front of the bus, and the driver just seem too friendly and courteous not to be Ecuadorian. I finally asked him as he was driving, if he was allowed to talk to riders while he was driving. When the driver positively responded, then I asked the big question, "Was he from Ecuador?" Strike three, and I was out. He was from San Salvador. San Salvador! Jose Cortez, the computer guy, was from San Salvador! No, the driver didn't know him, but like Jose he had a great story to tell about how he came to America. We talked about South American politics and culture, while a crowded bus of riders grew quiet with their personal conversations and seemed to be listening to the two of us. When we arrived in Highland, Indiana; the driver and many of the riders as they prepared to disembarked gave the driver applause and thanked him for an interesting trip. He was a truly charming guy.

So I am home unpacked, paying bills, going through a month's mail, taking care of business, visiting family, and taking a trip to Chicago with friends this Saturday. All the time wishing I was back in Cuenca. Hopefully, when the time is right Cuenca is where I will find myself again. I will only blog in the future, as I talk about some of the topics I have yet to cover, and when things here at home relate to my move to Cuenca. Otherwise, I am going to be way too busy to blog as regularly as I have. Thanks again to all, who contributed to making my time in Cuenca so enjoyable and memorable.

Hasta Luego

It's been a great ride for this past month. I really love this city. I enjoyed immensely the Ecuadorian people, and I made many new acquaintances and friends among members of the expat community. Everybody is extremely helpful, and the expat community gives newbies to Cuenca and those who come to settle not only a great social network, but a great source for how to adjust and navigate one's way around Cuenca, the Cuencano cultural mindset, and the bureaucratic red tape that is an integral part of Ecuadorian culture. As I said temporary goodbyes to acquaintances and friends this past week. (Sorry Rich, if I read BobnRox's blog correctly after I had dinner with you and Nancy Friday evening, I would have wished you a Happy Birthday on Friday night.) I for one appreciated that you dined with us way past your bedtime. If you read the other blogs, you already know what great food you can get at California Kitchen. It was back to the Colombian Restaurant on Saturday to have dinner with Barry, where like California Kitchen, the owners are the hosts and are warm and gracious, but unlike California Kitchen have limited English skills. We had the Colombian national dish, which had a variety of meats, pancake, plantain, eggs, and beans. What was absolutely excellent was the sausage--very flavorful and distinctively spicy without being a red chili-hot spicy. It was not a breakfast sausage. Dinner for the two of us came to $18.00, that was with two beers each.

I walked all over Cuenca on Saturday as the weather warmed up. After three days of cold weather, I was more than ready to get in some distance walking time, and I walked miles before I met up with Barry and again after we departed.

After Barry and I departed, I was heading for Maria's Alemania for the opportunity to select a variety of cookies to be packaged as a gift to take back to my mother in the states. I read the map wrong, headed in the opposite direction, but when I eventually corrected myself and found the bakery it was closed. It didn't matter in the least. It was a beautiful evening, and I enjoyed the walking. I also knew it was going to be quite awhile before I would get this chance again to walk the streets and always discover and try something new. I even stopped and tried a blackberry yogurt shake. Blackberries are big in Ecuador, but I didn't think I would like them. Luckily, they were out of Mango, which I first ordered. I tried the blackberry (mora), and it was very good. Next time I am in Cuenca, I will have to try the granadilla yogurt shake.

As luck would have it, if I just headed in the direction of home after we had dinner and returned to El Centro; about a block from Parque Calderon was an open bakery filled with galletas (cookies) and an English speaking mother who waited on me. I picked out a wide assortment of cookies for my mother upon my return to Chicago. The owner had her eight year old son with her, and he was full of enthusiasm. What a talker! I asked him his name and how old he was in Spanish, and I think he told me his whole life story in the most rapid Spanish I have heard to date in Cuenca. When it came time to pay, I ask her son, Manuel, to count all the dollars out for me. He counted up to eighteen. It suddenly dawned on me that I had forgotten what his mother said the price of the box of cookies were. She reminded me, and Manuel began to count all over again. We got it right, and I thanked him for his help.

One of the posters requested the name of the pizza place that I bragged about on an earlier post. I only ate there twice and had walked past it numerous times, but never wrote down its name and location. Streets as one leaves EL Centro heading west do not follow a perfect grid, and at times I reach a fork in the road, and street names change, although ultimately they all take me back to La Caudra II. The restaurant is called Pizza Express. It is not part of a chain, just a simple neighborhood restaurant. It is located at at 18-68y Grand Columbia. If you are walking west from El Centro along Grand Columbia or Simone Bolivar. You will come to a forge in the street were both streets merge and become Gran Columbia.
Being Saturday night, they had more than just the two pizza workers who are normally there during the day. They assured me they would be open on Sunday at 4:30 p.m. You know where I am having Sunday dinner. Keep in mine depending on your taste in pizza, there is no tomato sauce served on these pizzas. Their toppings are plentiful, the cueso cheese is good, and if they get the crust just right like the first time I had it, it was particularly flaky and light.

After my pizza, I walked for blocks along the river. The Rio Tombebamba is by no means a wide river. It generally is only twenty to forty feet wide. However, with the increase in rain the last few days, the greater depth of water, and the numerous rocks in the water make the river a fast moving ride of rapids. Much of the river is surrounded by shrubs along its banks or enhanced by parkways. It made for a very nice evening stroll, as my thoughts reflected on the events and experiences of the past month and my final evening in Cuenca.

I returned to La Cuadra II and began to pack for tomorrow's departure. I eventually went down to see my good amigo, Jose, and he gave me my final Spanish lesson for the time being. He showed me many photos of his wife, and son,his parents and siblings, and even of himself as a boy and a number of his cousins. We said our goodbyes. Jose reminds me a great deal of my son Chris. He is a real solid young man, and loves his wife and son deeply. I will miss him.

I am going to be extremely busy when I get home, but I do hope to make the time to post some follow-up thoughts and reflections on Cuenca, and occasionally keep friends back in Cuenca informed of my progress toward my eventual return to Cuenca. I have not discussed the Catholic Church, the pro and cons of renting or buying, and the advantages and disadvantages of living in Cuenca, nor the type of people who might consider if Cuenca is the right move for them.

Thanks to all of you who made my visit to Cuenca utterly enjoyable, and so resoundingly a beautiful experience. Hasta luego! Jaime

Photos of Cuneca, Part II

 

Click on the link below to the slide presentation, or if need be copy and paste into your URL:

http://picasaweb.google.com/111741036841400152108/20100803#

The Sands of Time

As I returned to La Cuadra II one day last week, the power was temporarily out. Since the elevator wasn't working, I climbed the stairs. Upon ascending the stairs I met Valerie. Suddenly the power was restored, and Valerie invited me to meet her husband, Wil. I dropped by briefly for introductions, and then this week stopped by their condo for an evening of conversation. Talk about six degrees of separation! What were the odds that Valerie and Wil, who not only live in Cuenca, but also reside on the same floor in the same building in Cuenca as myself; would be from the same city of Valparaiso back in the states? We never knew each other in Valparaiso. We had to come to Cuenca to meet. Wil and Valerie are busily renovating a second floor residence in colonial El Centro, where they plan to move upon its completion. They both want to be closer to the action. I wish them the best in their endeavor.

I had a very fine dinner last night with Brian and Shelley at their place, as we also visited with Orilla and Garth from Canada. Brian and Shelley have really been great to me, and I very much appreciate their friendship and kindness. Freddi was her perfect self, and Brian really knows how to handle himself in the kitchen.

Today Gil, Deborah, and myself were driven up to Ingapirca by Fabian Aris Borque. For anyone new to Cuenca, or may be planning to travel to Cuenca in the near future, Fabian is your go-to hombre for travel excursions, and he will even pick you up in Guayaquil and transport you to Cuenca from the Guayaquil Airport if you so desire. Fabian speaks fluent English, has lived in the states, Chicago, of course. Fabian is amiable, and knows his way around Cuenca and all the outlying sites, and his rates are reasonable. His telephone number is 0991 078 135. His email is sonialv@etapaonline.net.ec. He is well-known and well-respected in the expat community.

We were blessed with a young Ecuadorian guide, Susanna, who spoke fluent English, and who had the challenge of presenting the entire 90 minute tour in both English and Spanish to accommodate the language needs of people in her group. Ingapirca is the largest and oldest Inca ruin in Ecuador. Typical of human history; one group, the Incas, conquer another group, the Canari. Intermarriage and assimilation of cultures take place. Unfortunately, for the Incas, their ascendancy in Ecuador lasted less than a century, as they would soon give way to their conquest by the Spaniards.

The ride back to Cuenca was exciting. Fabian knows the back roads, when road construction becomes a travel problem. What prevents him from frequently replacing his shocks, axles, and suspension system as he maneuvers around and through the pot holes, gravel roads, and uneven road inclinations is beyond me. Fabian jockeys for position in typical Ecuadorian driving-style around autos and trucks which approach each other on one lane roads; while mental determination is made as to who sits, who moves in reverse, who attempts to pass whom in the narrow corridor of dusty rural roads. I love it! Fabian was at his finest moment like the matador who challenges the bull who rears forward at the site of the matador's cape, as Fabian waits for a truck to pass him and as he encourages the driver on. The driver for better or for worse thought better of the challenge, and put his truck in reverse and pulled back to a point where before he had the opportunity to bring himself to a halt, Fabian was already racing around him. I did see a site I never expected to observe in Ecuador. One driver actually stopped and waved for us to make the turn first. The main highway is being reconstructed and widened, and should be quite nice once the construction work is completed. Meantime, traffic in two directions often in one lane--very interesting, very interesting, indeed. Yet the negotiation of transportation seems to ultimately work itself out just fine among all the drivers.

The trip back from Ingapurca is especially nice. We were now moving from a higher altitude to a lower altitude. As we descended, we were able to experience the full appreciation of the beautiful landscape from a panoramic view. We could see just how rich the farmland is, and the multiples of truck farm products to which the soil is put to use. We were amazed at the numbers of homes along the mountainsides, and the large number of new homes that have or were being built. The weather also warmed, and we began to strip off the extra layers of clothes that were definitely needed in the higher altitude of Ingapirca, which also proved to be quite windy.

We eventually made our way back to Cuenca and the entire excursion, which included about an hour for lunch took about seven hours. Our lunch at Ingapirca was the traditional Ecuadorian meal: a big bowl of the delicious potato soup, beef, rice, potatoes, and a fresh fruit juice drink. The meal for all four of us was just seven dollars.

Unfortunately, our return to Cuenca meant saying "Hasta luego" to Gil and Deborah, who are returning to San Francisco on Friday, and will not return to Cuenca until November. Their departure was also a reminder of my own soon-to-be departure, as the sand in the hour-glass is quickly receding. Hopefully, we will all be together again.

Photos of Cuenca

Well, I have finally succeeded in getting my photos posted not quite the way intended, but in a way I believe any one can view them as a slide show. Hopefully, you will just need to click on to the URL below. If not, just cut and paste, and the slide presentation should appear:

http://picasaweb.google.com/111741036841400152108/20100727CuencaPhotoI?authkey=Gv1sRgCNSv3Yff_NPwpwE#5500631998675441586

Blessing and Curses, Curses and Blessings: Part III

I have had serious problems with my computer, and Nancy Watson had recommended a gentleman to me who she believed could repair it. (Nancy, if you are reading this, the problems went way beyond a browser button that wouldn't click by the time I sought help.) Jose Cortez (09-556-1077)came to my place, took a look at my new laptop, which was bought specifically for my trip to Cuenca. To make a long story short, Jose took the computer with him, made all the corrections necessary, which included cleaning up viruses. Before Jose brought the computer back the next day, he needed a couple of extra hours to complete his repairs. Since I did not have a phone, Jose sent a friend by, so I could talk with Jose on the phone to verify that he would be a couple of hours late from the time that he thought he would drop off my computer.

When Jose returned the computer; he sat for two hours with me and showed me everything that he had cleaned-up and corrected, new programs he had downloaded on my computer and how they worked, and how to download photos from my camera to the blog site. A miracle may happen, and who knows, you just may see some photos yet before I leave Cuenca--no promises though. Jose's prices were very reasonable, and yes, this is an advertisement. If you need a computer repair hombre in Cuenca, Jose Cortez is your man--high quality, excellent service, and reasonable pricing.

Of course, that wasn't the end of my computer problems. After the computer was returned, parts of text were jumping around while I was typing emails, posts, and Office Word. Jose immediately identified the problem. I needed a mouse. The built-in device used to navigate in these laptops was too sensitive to my wrist and finger motions, so for less than ten dollars, I was able to purchase a cordless mouse--problem more than solved. Well no, not quite yet. No more than all my computer problems were rectified, then the cable connection stopped working for the better part of two days. For reasons beyond my understanding--maybe less traffic on the weekend--but by Friday evening and all day today the cable has just been working fine. Go figure! So when I couldn't use my computer, it has given me more time to study my Spanish. Oh, learning all these conjunctions and word orders is going to be so much fun.

City Bus Cruise and Local Fest

The last two days have been sunny and restful. I missed getting out to Zoe's Friday evening due to illness from something I most likely ate at a local fest, and should have known better than to eat. Today, Saturday, has been a day of rest as well. So hopefully, I will feel well enough to get out and about tomorrow morning to Parque Calderon, where on Sunday mornings concert programs may be presented, and a number of expats come to meet, touch bases, and possibly have breakfast or lunch together.


Jose Cortez, the computer technician and I got to talking, and I told him about how I wanted to ride the double-decker bus on a city tour of Cuenca. How my first attempt had failed, and how I heard that the tour was only in Spanish. Jose had not taken the tour himself, so he went along and he translated for me. The current price of the tour is five dollars, and takes about two hours. As it turns out part of the tour is in English. An attractive young blond, American from Seattle who was doing her internship in Cuenca did the honors in English. However, most of the tour is presented in Espanol. My camera is also new, so I have been learning how to use it. This is the first time I have purchased a camera since my 35mm died in the 90's. The city tour was my first effort at using the video, and I have not transferred it yet from my camera to my laptop to maybe the blog--oh this really is going to prove interesting! We went up to Camino a Turi, the pinnacle of Cuenca, where I was able to snap panoramic photos and videos of the city. I also had my first ear of white corn cooked over the charcoal grill. It's a definite winner. I was surprised for kernels as large as these and prepared in the manner that they were, that they came out so tender and flavorful.

The tour gave me a good perspective of the layout of the city, and an opportunity to experience the city from above instead of always at street level. What was fun for everyone on the upper-deck was that the cables running across the street are low enough that a number of them barely clear the bus. When passengers are standing and taking photos or video-taping on the upper-deck, the crowd shouts at them to get down before they are decapitated or electrocuted. We truly did have to duck sometimes lower than the back of the seats to avoid contact with cables. That's a city excursion one will never experience in Chicago. The insurance companies haven't destroyed Cuenca yet.

While touring the city, we saw a square where people were preparing for a local fest that evening, and decided we would attend later. We had dinner at the up-scaled, Vino Olivo, which was near the square where the fest was taking place. The restaurant's lights were out, so we ate on the patio. The kitchen did have power. Eventually, power was restored throughout the entire establishment. We actually had a great location for seeing the fireworks, and the burning lights which slowly ascended into the sky like hot-air balloons, and stayed lit and afloat for as long as half-an-hour. I have not been to a fireworks display in the states for at least six or seven years now, so these lights were something new to me. The dinner was disappointing. We ordered a seafood paella. Both the rice and the seafood were too dry, which is exactly how I have had paella back home in Valparaiso on several occasions. Only once, have I had paella, which melted in my mouth; which was in a Spanish restaurant in Milwaukee, Wisconsin about ten years ago. Possibly other fare on the menu may be quite good, but I would not recommended the paella.

After dinner, we went over to the concert. The performance was an Ecuadorian contemporary rock group, and the theme was "Cuenca Lives". Makeshift eateries were everywhere. I forgot what Jose said they were called, but I pointed out to him the trays of cones sticking up in what looks like mounds of ice cream. I knew this colorful concoction wasn't ice cream, because it doesn't melt. Before I could say anything more, Jose pulled out some coins and bought me a cone. I had refused to purchase this dessert in the past, because I was concerned about contamination. The purchase had been made, throwing precaution to the wind, and not wanting to offend Jose; I ate it. It had the texture of Cool Whip, and I understand that it is made from fruit juices. It is served with a very little spoon, which is actually a tiny plastic utensil with a flat square surface extending from the handle were the spoon should be. From the number of adults and kids I see eating these cones, they seem quite popular. The cones and their vividly colored concoctions are not very large, and are obviously intended to be eaten in small bites. I myself would prefer ice cream or soft-serve. Of course, there was hell to be paid the next morning as my health issues arose, and I stayed near the facilities in the condo all day and night Friday. Sunday, I went to a pharmacy to get medication for stopping the runs. No one needs a prescription to use the pharmacies in Ecuador. Just stop in, and tell them what you need or want, and it's yours.

It was about 10:30 p.m. Thursday night, and maybe 500 to 1,000 people were on hand at the fest. According to Jose, the band was now playing nationalistic music, which was a clue that the concert was soon to end. We both grabbed cabs going in opposite directions to our homes ahead of the mob of people, a number of whom may have tied traffic up for quite awhile attempting to cross streets in a duel with the autos and attempting to signal taxis all at the same time. My taxi had to come to the end of a median and make a place to turn around and take me in the opposite direction. Believe me, he made a place. It truly is whoever gets the space first in this competition. Except for the taxis, there were no amusement rides like one would find at neighborhood and church fests back home. There was a hill were kids had mats that had green glo-lites on them, which they used to ride down a natural hill that was only six-eight feet high. The kids remind me of my generation when we were kids, when we didn't have so much and had to often make our own fun.