I want to take the bus to see Santa

This past weekend I traveled to Quito and Riobamba. (More to on that later.) At midnight in the Guayaquil bus station, I chuckled at the signs indicating different destinations. With Christmas this month and the red & green signage, I was tempted to go visit St. Nick in Santa, Ecuador.

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"We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for."

John Keating The Dead Poets Society

Between the Pages III-- Of Love and Shadows by Isabel Allende

“All you will have is the present. Waste no energy crying over yesterday or dreaming of tomorrow. Nostalgia is fatiguing and destructive, it is the vice of the expatriate. You must put down roots as if they were forever, you must have a sense of permanence” (278).

Chilean author and Los Angeles resident Allende tells a tale of romance, political upheaval, and desaparecidos. Allende's command of language is mesmerizing. A quick read that pulls you into a land of passion and pain. Just as enjoyable as her compilation Stories of Eva Luna, Allende's House of Spirits is now on my reading list.

“The fragrance of the fresh herbs and spices she used for seasoning stews and fried potato cakes always lingered on the air, the mouth-watering harmony of sprigs of rosemary, bay leaves, garlic cloves, and onions melding with the more subtle fragrance of cinnamon, clove, vanilla, anise, and chocolate used in baking breads and cakes.” (211).

“Supported by the rough trunk, they sat in silence, without touching, but so united in their feelings they might have been cradled in a single womb.” (120)

“Through sleepless nights they told each other the stories of their lives. There was no memory from the past, no dream of the present, no plan for the future that they did not share. They surrendered all their secrets; going beyond the physical, they abandoned their souls to one another.” (257).

“Finally dawn came. Light spread like a flower of fire and slowly the darkness receded. The sky cleared and the blinding beauty of the landscape materialized before their eyes like the birth of a new world. They roused themselves, shook the frost from their blankets, stretched their stiff arms and legs, and drank the remaining liquor to restore their circulation.” (289).

Click here to hear Allende's talk on TED Ideas Worth Spreading: "Isabel Allende tells Tales of Passion"

Eyeglasses & Bingo in Río Caña

View from the Car

Sunday I went to Río Caña with a Rotary International group from Portoviejo. Only an hour and a half away, the landscape was strikingly different. The dry hills and dust clouds surrounding Portoviejo were replaced by verdant foliage. In orderly rows, the tall skinny trunks of yucca plants reached for the sky. Cacao, avocado, plantain, banana, naranjilla, orange, and mango trees encroached on the winding dirt road.

Cacao Tree (See the Yellow Cacao Fruit?)

Boys Spinning the Sugar Cane Grinding Machine

We made a sharp turn into a plot that housed a contemporary country home and a larger farmhouse no longer in use. The homes in el campo have a brick foundation and a steep staircase leading to the home on the second floor. Walls and floors made primarily of canya (bamboo-like material) comprise the home. Hammocks hang lazily in one room and a porch looks out on the temptingly cool creek.

Bingo Game

I climbed up the steep stairs/ladder of the old farmhouse to find a home with six rooms. The kitchen housed a stove fashioned of a wooden counter with a carved out center for wood and charcoal. One large room housed the men’s beds and the other the women’s beds. In a multi-generational home such as this, eight or ten people slept in each room.

Historic Sugar Cane Grinding Machine— Once Upon a Time
Extracted Sugar Cane Juice

In the morning, the Rotary group and a team of optometrists set up camp beneath the old farmhouse and fitted community members for prescription glasses. With other volunteers and high school Rotary exchange students I sifted through boxes of donated glasses to find the necessary prescription for each glasses recipient. Oftentimes, the exact prescription wasn’t available. In these cases, it was fun to help the recipients try out a few different specs to find the optimal pair.

Lunch was across the street…the volunteers seemed concerned that I wouldn’t like the traditional country food, but it was delicious. Three enormous pots simmered over a wooden stove in the kitchen. One was filled with a soup full of giant lentils, carrots, and huge hunks of pork. In another, simmered the breasts, legs, and hearts of multiple gallinas (country chicken). Enough rice to feed a small village steamed in the third pot. I winced a bit before drinking the lemonade that had been mixed up in a giant plastic bucket, but was assured the water was boiled. My stomach is hearty and it was delicious. When I was unable to finish my portion of rice (enough to feed a full family of four), I had to assure everyone that everything was rico.

In the afternoon, the Rotary club put on a BINGO game for the community. It was a hit and as far as I can tell a huge chunk of people turned out for prizes consisting of household goods, candy, and five-dollar bills.

I left Rio Canya a little sunburned and with approximately a bajillion bug bites. Still, I was overwhelmingly content. My stomach was full of fresh mangoes and star fruit. I had the pleasure of meeting kind, energetic Rotary members and the humble, generous community of Río Caña.

CliffsNotes on Ecuadorian Weddings & Karaoke Bars

I had the pleasure of attending a wedding this past weekend with two good friends. Interesting cultural notes:
1. The drink of choice is whiskey. While champagne was plentiful during toasts, each table passed around a bucket of ice and a bottle of whiskey. Traditionally, the groom’s parents pay for the whiskey and the bride’s parent’s pay for the wedding. I’m thinking that it is expected you cough up a nice amount of money for the best whiskey. Beer is frowned upon as informal at weddings. I would attribute this to the fact that most drinking establishments serve two beers—“Pony” and “Pilsner” (side note: Pilsner is the company name as well as type of beer).
2. The first dance between the bride and the groom is traditionally a waltz.

I met up with some friends at a bar this past weekend. Upon arriving I realized it was a karaoke bar. I am all for karaoke—it’s a good time, right? Belt out some lyrics, generally it doesn’t matter if you can really sing, a chance to let loose. These rules hold true here. Yet, unlike in the USA where rock and pop take center stage, ballads were the stars of the night here. I will admit, this was not for me. Most ballads centered around: Longing for your old lover, Feeling like you can’t go on without your old lover, Remembering your old lover. Not exactly jamming songs for a Saturday night! Eek. Hey, at least I got to follow the lyrics on the screen and watch images of tranquil oceans, doves, and furry animals. In summary, I checked off Ecuadorian Karaoke Bars.

Sueños en Español

Yay! I finally had a dream in Spanish. This is mostly exciting because this usually signifies my brain is working really hard to master something! (Before orgo exams the molecules and reactions haunted my dreams.) In the dream, I was in a literature class being taught underground by a gypsy teacher in bangle bracelets. In this dreamworld, some of my family participated in the class, speaking Spanish fluently. (Prophetic foresight?) I attributed the secretive nature of the course to the fact that she was revealing the key to humanity--yes that is a vague term that should be in a Nicholas Cage film.

Strangely enough, unlike most of my dreams, danger was distant and it was quite pleasant--with an aroma of fresh cut flowers. Imagine that.

A Gastronomical Tour of Ecuador: Part 1

In Ecuador, all food is "rico, rico, rico"—delicious, rich. I find it impressive that I have not yet commented on food, as it is one of my great loves. If you have known me for a time, you know I love to:

• Talk about food--If you could choose only one condiment for burgers the rest of your life, what would it be? Best dish for a freezing night?
  
• Read about food (My favorite memoir staring menus of Parisian cafés —A Moveable Feast by F.Scott Fitzgerald)
• Devour movies featuring chow (Como Agua Para Chocolate, Chocolat, Julie and Julia, Babette’s Feast). Sidenote: I just discovered NYC Food Film Festival, "a multi-sensory experience where filmgoers are able to watch food films then sample the food portrayed in those films." I guess I can do the same thing with my laptop, a dvd, and a kitchen....
• Make a mess of the kitchen experimenting with new recipes from thefoodnetwork.com
• Photograph food (Whoops, I only have two photos from Thanksgiving 2008—the golden roasted turkey and vanilla ice cream melting on warm pumpkin pie)
• And of course, share a snack, meal, or drink with family and friends.
  

In Ecuador, the majority of lunches and dinners, consist of a meat or seafood dish, rice, perhaps a salad (finely cut iceberg lettuce with tomatoes and onions), and a glass of juice. For me, the shining star of main dishes on the coast is ceviche—either fish ceviche or shrimp ceviche. More on this citrus seafood grub later.

This past weekend, I went with my Ecuadorian family to their regular Sunday haunt—a large tented area in the sand next to La Boca, an ocean inlet resembling a mouth. After enthusiastically greeting familiar faces, we sat down and our chairs sank a bit into the sand. The kitchen is beside the tables. Huge pots of ceviche and frying fish and shrimp sizzled. A meal for three was eight bucks. Good fresh grub.

La Morcilla with Maduras

I am pretty eager to try just about anything. We ordered a few appetizers (read: I nodded that I would try anything). Within a few moments a plate of sausage and chifle (plátano chips) arrived at our table. After asking “Es carne? Es carne?” several times, I bit into the sausage. Still chewing, examining the savory flavor, I learned I was swallowing morcilla—cleaned cow intestine stuffed with rice, pig’s blood, and spices. Eek, I did not attempt to hold back my dislike for the idea of intestine. It was delicious, but one taste was enough! I stuck to chifle before my meal arrived ;-0