Avenida Amazonas, Quito
I´m kind of pathetic. I just got out of the emergency room for my ankle. Señora Villagomez, my buddy and head of the language department at the University suggested I go to Hospital VozAndes because they have english speaking doctors and are cheaper than the famous Metropolitano Hospital. On Saturday I decided to really test the ankle at El Parque Carolina, kind of the central park of Quito. I met mi compañero Micol at the basketball courts and we tried to run game on the larger-lunged locals. Not only did we catch an ass-whooping (picture Fox taking his glasses off and trying to play ball at 3,000 meters after god knows how many years off the court), but I couldn´t breathe after 15 min of full court and my ankle sent me home in severe pain.
The good news is that I have confirmed there is no fracture. The hospital visit was fast, thorough, and the doctor and technician were excellent. The doctor actually spent some time at Mt. Sinai in NYC. They certainly make up for the lack of state of the art equipment we have by providing superior personal care and attention to detail. The bad news is I just have to wear an elastic sock thing and wait for it to heal. How do I stay off my feet!? I swear to god I might smack the next bus driver who simply doesn´t stop while I try to get off. I need to learn how to say, ¨please stop, I´m injured.¨ The doc assured me Machu Pichu is not out of reach in a few months...
Intensive Spanish at the Pontificia Universidad Catolica del Ecuador (PUCE)
PUCE is a beautiful campus set in the dead center of the city, on the edge of La Mariscal where all the action is in the new town. I take a 5 min bus ride each morning to Avenida 12 de Octubre that drops me right by the American Embassy, and from there it is a short jaunt across a dangerous traffic circle, down two blocks and through the main gate and bustling courtyard of the University, and up two flights of stairs to room 222 in the language building.
The Cast of Characters
LEO es mi profesor. El es ecoutoriano. He is kind and cheerful, probably 50 or so but weilds the patience of a man twice his age. He is surprisingly stylish in dress, meticulously put together and always in dark colors - grays and browns and blacks. His shoes, which match his suave leather jackets, are always, always leather and have the perfect stink of recent polish. When he does speak english, which is quite infrequent, he speaks well and with a U.S. accent. I would imagine he spent some time in the States. The man is fit but fighting the first signs of a burgeoning belly, and about 5ft 10in in stature. His humor is frequent and appropriate, as is his interest in each of our backgrounds.
TOM is eager to please the crowd and yet often self-deprecating. He is attentive to class exercises but painfully aware of his short-comings with the language (his wife sits in a classroom two doors down, already in level 3). Tom is tall and slender, a bit wobbly and probably in his late 40´s with very short, graying hair on his small head. His typical dress is jeans and a button-down or polo shirt, neatly tucked in of course. When he communicates it is with a boyish smile and extended neck, in such a way that he looks poised to immitate a chicken. The professor often skips him outright when calling on students for answers, very sad indeed. Despite this pathetic classroom description, Tom´s life is quite interesting. He has spent his career with the Swiss government working in aid programs in foreign countries, including at least 5 years in Africa in Burkina Faso, Rwanda and Burundi.
MICOL is the man. He is only 18, one of 3 chinese males in our class, and has enjoyed sitting next to me from day one. Perched in his full nike gear - old-school red and white hi-tops, breakaway pants and various jersey shirts - he frequently gazes between his notes, my notes, and the handheld computer dictionary that is his lifeline for deciphering the spanish words on the board. His difficulties are only exacerbated by his near total lack of english skills. Micol is terribly athletic on the basketball court and has a few inches on me. I´m telling you, the chinese will soon be a larger minority in the NBA, they are damn good. When Micol first learned that I was from the States, he managed a meek ¨NBA?!¨ and when he understood further that I was from Washington he said ¨Michael Jordan?¨ But when he took it to the next level and said ¨Gilbert Arenas?¨ I straight up fell in love.
KSENIA is from Russia completely without love. No love for Quito, no love for Ecuadorian food, and no apparent love for the spanish language. She´s the girl with the attitude and no patience, who hates to be wrong. Her demeanor is overly serious, but it plays well with her look: Ksenia stands at least 5ft 11in tall, probably about 26 yrs old, a tall blond from outside Moscow who combs her hair straight back tight. A fine distraction in the desk by the door, she typically wears tight pants or black leather skirts with somewhat provacative tops to match - perhaps a series of deliberate gashes in the fabric across her chest, or a shoulder isolated and fully revealed. With the idea that her computer engineer husband, ¨the best in Ecuador,¨may take a job in Spain (or San Francisco or Zurich...) she regularly insists that the professor include the ¨vosotros¨ form of verbs in the lesson plan. Ksenia is tall and pretty, but she´d be a lot better looking if she smiled sometimes.
MARISKA is from northern Holland. She is a school teacher by profession and also teaches at a Dutch school nearby in the afternoons. At an unassuming 5ft 7in with blond ponytail and always dressed in classic blue jeans and various colored sweaters, Mariska is probably the smartest student in the class. Not the most attentive or hardworking, but astute and one of those people who just ¨get it.¨ I often sit with Mariska (and Micol of course), and we two seem to be absorbing the lessons faster than the others. My experience with Dutch folk continues to reinforce my feeling that they are the most mature people on the planet. An interesting side note: Mariska met her Ecuadorian husband on a kibbutz in northern Israel. She speaks a bit of hebrew and loves Israeli people. Like Ksenia though, her husband has her on a tight leash. Neither woman appears allowed to walk alone or take public transportation - only taxis. So much for taking the ladies to lunch!
TONI is Micol´s brother (you´d never know it and they didn´t mention it for a week). He sits directly across the classroom from Micol and is just as tall, but you wouldn´t notice his meager frame because he is the shy one who never utters a sound. It´s only when something is whispered in Chinese that his presence sneaks back into the room. It´s like the movie Twins with Arnold and Devito; Micol got all the charisma and athleticsm and personality, Toni sits timidly on the sidelines mumbling in chinese and enjoying computer games. If this were a real cast of characters, I´d have to demote him to Micol´s understudy. He´s just not ready to hit the stage, the man needs some work. And I don´t mean to be cruel, but both brothers could use a quick shave to get rid of the 17 whiskers that obnoxiously adorn only their upper lip and chin.
ROSEMARY is just the sweetest person in the room. Her rosy smile animates. She is on a 3 year mission here from Nairobi, Kenya and wears the same matching blue long skirt and sweater-jacket over a white shirt each day (reminding me of a certain evil Ms. Feigert from middle school, anyone? Klaffky?). A simple cross hangs low from her neck approaching her waistline. She is dark skinned with bright eyes and a warm heart. Now she just needs to pay a little better attention in class and catch up!
Finally we have SUUN, our last chinese student. There´s simply no other way to describe this kid except as the lovable chinese character from the American televison series Heroes, which I only saw two episodes of last year (his character may have changed from what I´ve read - I thought the whole show was a cheap rip-off of Steven King´s The Stand if you ask me). Anyway, if you have no idea what I´m talking about, he´s the ever-smiling, babyfat Pilsbury dough boy who you just want to give a hug, roll up into a ball like a stuffed animal, and take home with you. Suun is constantly making mistakes when called upon, but never ceases to find a way to smile and crack an awkward joke across language barriers that leaves the room reeling. He´s short, stocky, with circular glasses and two smooth outfits he rotates all week - but they are damn smooth, with shoelaces that match jacket pinstripes and complementing slacks.
You have to hand it to these chinese students; they are faced with not only a new language but a new set of sounds and alphabet. All three have little or no english. And why are there so many chinese in Ecuador and Panama? The most common response appears to be business. Yes, the astonishingly hardworking chinese are at in South America, keeping their modest shops (with everything you need) open longer and on Sundays of course, and providing some of the only respites from the heavy Ecuadorian comita typico. Sometimes a ¨Chifa¨ sign above a restaurant doorway just makes you happy inside, you know?! Slowly, with the support of government assistance programs and dedicated family ties, these people are seriously taking over the globe!
Mulata de Tard
I haven´t done a lot of going out late here in Quito. La Mariscal is a mess of touristy bars and clubs (gringo-landia), resulting in late night robberies and frequent assualts that I just wasn´t ready to test on my own yet. It is one of the most dangerous parts of the city at night, so if you don´t have people to meet...But friday I hung out at the girls´ georgeous apartment for coffee, assorted snacks and late night conversation where I met Gabbi, who was performing the next evening at a restaurant\lounge in la Mariscal. Like most of the more educated friends I´ve met here, Gabbi unsurprisingly speaks english and spent a year in the States, in Portland, OR of all places. She said she spoke nothing for 4 months and then it just clicked. I hope the same holds true for me! She also had some terrible things to say about our average refrigerator holdings and general everyday diets as Americans - she couldn´t help but gain some weight that year in the States, which she promptly shook off upon her return to Quito and the more healthy, reasonable diet here.
Kicking back with Club beer, greek ouzo, and glasses of merlot to the chill sounds of Moby, Bjork, Portishead, and Depeche Mode (Titi goes nuts over that band), we all exchanged some new slang as I desperately attempted to comprehend spanish conversation. The ladies are making a point of trying not to speak English around me anymore. I´m always fascinated when the conversation turns to politics and I hear stories about the various presidents screwing up and fleeing the country. In one instance 24hr street protests brought the city to a standstill and forced the President to flee the country from the airport as the people literally rushed the runways. Next day life was back to normal as the VP assumed control. I tried to explain what this level of protest (and likely violence) would do to my country. I can´t even imagine. Here it is normal.
So back to Gabbi. She´s beautiful, half Portuguese (lived there for 4 years), an interior designer/architect here in Quito, and the younger sister of one of Titi´s good friends. Through her love of singing Gabbi has found a way to tap into her heritage. The following night we found ourselves guests of the lead singer of a band performing Brasilian music at a restaurant\lounge in la Mariscal.
It´s too bad the band is not permanently together. Carlos is Gabbi´s friend and also sings on most of the songs, it´s really his group and he must return to Brasil. Carlos has a way with the crowd that brings everything to a higher level, especially in a cosy restaurant space. Gabbi looked great and overcame her anxiety to sing beautifully; my favorite songs were her and Carlos´duets, a lively hit titled ¨Mama Afrika,¨ and the Portuguese version of the Beatles´I´ll Follow the Sun. The drummer wasn´t much to write home about, but the French saxophonist and the guitarist were first-rate. As it turns out, the guitarist is none other than the brother of a famous Ecuadorian musician, and is himself well known as a child prodigy in classical guitar who has traveled widely to demonstrate his finger-picking skillz. Gabbi was in fine company.
The evening was fantastic, like one of those Italian restaurant nights where you just waste away for hours with fine company and libations. When the music´s energy and temperature swelled the room it reminded me a lot of my night with the Bosnian crew in Novi Sad, Serbia, poeple dancing and clapping and drunk on exotic drinks and foreign tunes. A lively French contingent had come to support their friend the saxophonist, and countless Brasilian family and friends littered the room belting out accompanyments to each new verse. Titi and I sat with Gabbi´s friends Irina and Adela - both georgeous, highly educated, well traveled and had a year abroad in the States (they know Bethesda too), and english speakers of course. Irina was very kind and helped me speak a bit in Spanish. She is taking french lessons herself after just graduating from undergrad, and can afford to be picky looking for a high-paid NGO type job in agricultural science because her father has sanctioned the year off to figure things out. Adela was embarassed to test her english skills after so long without practice but understood anything I said. Adela is actually doing a Masters in communications at PUCE, so hopefully I´ll see her around campus.
Can this type of girl I keep meeting really be that common here? Can´t be, right? At a certain point one has to wonder how they can all be single if they are goodlooking, smart and multilingual.
Ecuadorian Sopa
On Sunday I was invited to have lunch with the family at the girls´apartment. All I knew was something ¨¨typico¨was on the menu. Well, it was delicious. I brought some flowers which went over well, and enjoyed empanadas, the famous 12 grain\bean Fonesca Soup, and 3 flavors of helado to finish, all while 2 yr old Lucas ran around playing in the background. He´s finally not scared of me and even said goodbye to Peter Pan. But back to the soup, because it is my new favorite. It is a thick, heavy broth made even heavier by countless types of beans and all the trimmings in small dishes on the table you add to the potpourri. My favorite addittive was the salty specks of cod fish - kind of reminded me of white fish back home. It is an old tradition here to prepare this soup heading into semana santa, and it takes a lot of preparation. It´s one of those things where everyone is supposed to put in some work and and it is a good excuse for quality family time. I didn´t help prepare, but I did get to eat! and spend more time with Nena the 3rd daughter and her husband Daniel, both of whom are very cool. They are the ones involved in music festivals, magazines and event planning, and told us about how good that guitarist really was the other night.
After lunch I went hiking in a new park (for me), Parque Metropolitano, with Titi for a while way up on a hill where Nene lives. Titi showed me some great spots and incredible vistas, and described a night circus festival she once organized in ¨the lagoon¨clearing under a full moon. Sounds very cool - speaking of which, the other night the sky looked crazy here - was there a worldwide lunar event?
Exiting the park and heading to Nene´s house we passed the architecturally unique Museo de Guayasamin, probably the most widely recognized Ecuadorian painter. I´ll have to check that one out soon. Nena´s house is modern and beautiful. Like a dumbass I commented on the ¨bella vista¨ with the little spanish I could muster before being informed that the entire community is actually called Bella Vista. From the small front yard where Lucas plays, you can see an impressive panorama of the city, including a great view of the U.S. Ambassador´s gigantic white house high up on a hill in a forest of trees, and El Panecillo of course (the virgin overlooking the city). I got a snapshot of the sisters.
So that´s all for now. I´m done testing my ankle on the basketball court and hiking trails for now. I´ll turn my attention even more fervently to my studies (leccion 2 test on Wed, yikes!)
Chao for now.
...wow, the lead singer Carlos just sat down next to me at the internet cafe...! Que chevere! He´s playing again on Friday nearby!
I´m kind of pathetic. I just got out of the emergency room for my ankle. Señora Villagomez, my buddy and head of the language department at the University suggested I go to Hospital VozAndes because they have english speaking doctors and are cheaper than the famous Metropolitano Hospital. On Saturday I decided to really test the ankle at El Parque Carolina, kind of the central park of Quito. I met mi compañero Micol at the basketball courts and we tried to run game on the larger-lunged locals. Not only did we catch an ass-whooping (picture Fox taking his glasses off and trying to play ball at 3,000 meters after god knows how many years off the court), but I couldn´t breathe after 15 min of full court and my ankle sent me home in severe pain.
The good news is that I have confirmed there is no fracture. The hospital visit was fast, thorough, and the doctor and technician were excellent. The doctor actually spent some time at Mt. Sinai in NYC. They certainly make up for the lack of state of the art equipment we have by providing superior personal care and attention to detail. The bad news is I just have to wear an elastic sock thing and wait for it to heal. How do I stay off my feet!? I swear to god I might smack the next bus driver who simply doesn´t stop while I try to get off. I need to learn how to say, ¨please stop, I´m injured.¨ The doc assured me Machu Pichu is not out of reach in a few months...
Intensive Spanish at the Pontificia Universidad Catolica del Ecuador (PUCE)
PUCE is a beautiful campus set in the dead center of the city, on the edge of La Mariscal where all the action is in the new town. I take a 5 min bus ride each morning to Avenida 12 de Octubre that drops me right by the American Embassy, and from there it is a short jaunt across a dangerous traffic circle, down two blocks and through the main gate and bustling courtyard of the University, and up two flights of stairs to room 222 in the language building.
The Cast of Characters
LEO es mi profesor. El es ecoutoriano. He is kind and cheerful, probably 50 or so but weilds the patience of a man twice his age. He is surprisingly stylish in dress, meticulously put together and always in dark colors - grays and browns and blacks. His shoes, which match his suave leather jackets, are always, always leather and have the perfect stink of recent polish. When he does speak english, which is quite infrequent, he speaks well and with a U.S. accent. I would imagine he spent some time in the States. The man is fit but fighting the first signs of a burgeoning belly, and about 5ft 10in in stature. His humor is frequent and appropriate, as is his interest in each of our backgrounds.
TOM is eager to please the crowd and yet often self-deprecating. He is attentive to class exercises but painfully aware of his short-comings with the language (his wife sits in a classroom two doors down, already in level 3). Tom is tall and slender, a bit wobbly and probably in his late 40´s with very short, graying hair on his small head. His typical dress is jeans and a button-down or polo shirt, neatly tucked in of course. When he communicates it is with a boyish smile and extended neck, in such a way that he looks poised to immitate a chicken. The professor often skips him outright when calling on students for answers, very sad indeed. Despite this pathetic classroom description, Tom´s life is quite interesting. He has spent his career with the Swiss government working in aid programs in foreign countries, including at least 5 years in Africa in Burkina Faso, Rwanda and Burundi.
MICOL is the man. He is only 18, one of 3 chinese males in our class, and has enjoyed sitting next to me from day one. Perched in his full nike gear - old-school red and white hi-tops, breakaway pants and various jersey shirts - he frequently gazes between his notes, my notes, and the handheld computer dictionary that is his lifeline for deciphering the spanish words on the board. His difficulties are only exacerbated by his near total lack of english skills. Micol is terribly athletic on the basketball court and has a few inches on me. I´m telling you, the chinese will soon be a larger minority in the NBA, they are damn good. When Micol first learned that I was from the States, he managed a meek ¨NBA?!¨ and when he understood further that I was from Washington he said ¨Michael Jordan?¨ But when he took it to the next level and said ¨Gilbert Arenas?¨ I straight up fell in love.
KSENIA is from Russia completely without love. No love for Quito, no love for Ecuadorian food, and no apparent love for the spanish language. She´s the girl with the attitude and no patience, who hates to be wrong. Her demeanor is overly serious, but it plays well with her look: Ksenia stands at least 5ft 11in tall, probably about 26 yrs old, a tall blond from outside Moscow who combs her hair straight back tight. A fine distraction in the desk by the door, she typically wears tight pants or black leather skirts with somewhat provacative tops to match - perhaps a series of deliberate gashes in the fabric across her chest, or a shoulder isolated and fully revealed. With the idea that her computer engineer husband, ¨the best in Ecuador,¨may take a job in Spain (or San Francisco or Zurich...) she regularly insists that the professor include the ¨vosotros¨ form of verbs in the lesson plan. Ksenia is tall and pretty, but she´d be a lot better looking if she smiled sometimes.
MARISKA is from northern Holland. She is a school teacher by profession and also teaches at a Dutch school nearby in the afternoons. At an unassuming 5ft 7in with blond ponytail and always dressed in classic blue jeans and various colored sweaters, Mariska is probably the smartest student in the class. Not the most attentive or hardworking, but astute and one of those people who just ¨get it.¨ I often sit with Mariska (and Micol of course), and we two seem to be absorbing the lessons faster than the others. My experience with Dutch folk continues to reinforce my feeling that they are the most mature people on the planet. An interesting side note: Mariska met her Ecuadorian husband on a kibbutz in northern Israel. She speaks a bit of hebrew and loves Israeli people. Like Ksenia though, her husband has her on a tight leash. Neither woman appears allowed to walk alone or take public transportation - only taxis. So much for taking the ladies to lunch!
TONI is Micol´s brother (you´d never know it and they didn´t mention it for a week). He sits directly across the classroom from Micol and is just as tall, but you wouldn´t notice his meager frame because he is the shy one who never utters a sound. It´s only when something is whispered in Chinese that his presence sneaks back into the room. It´s like the movie Twins with Arnold and Devito; Micol got all the charisma and athleticsm and personality, Toni sits timidly on the sidelines mumbling in chinese and enjoying computer games. If this were a real cast of characters, I´d have to demote him to Micol´s understudy. He´s just not ready to hit the stage, the man needs some work. And I don´t mean to be cruel, but both brothers could use a quick shave to get rid of the 17 whiskers that obnoxiously adorn only their upper lip and chin.
ROSEMARY is just the sweetest person in the room. Her rosy smile animates. She is on a 3 year mission here from Nairobi, Kenya and wears the same matching blue long skirt and sweater-jacket over a white shirt each day (reminding me of a certain evil Ms. Feigert from middle school, anyone? Klaffky?). A simple cross hangs low from her neck approaching her waistline. She is dark skinned with bright eyes and a warm heart. Now she just needs to pay a little better attention in class and catch up!
Finally we have SUUN, our last chinese student. There´s simply no other way to describe this kid except as the lovable chinese character from the American televison series Heroes, which I only saw two episodes of last year (his character may have changed from what I´ve read - I thought the whole show was a cheap rip-off of Steven King´s The Stand if you ask me). Anyway, if you have no idea what I´m talking about, he´s the ever-smiling, babyfat Pilsbury dough boy who you just want to give a hug, roll up into a ball like a stuffed animal, and take home with you. Suun is constantly making mistakes when called upon, but never ceases to find a way to smile and crack an awkward joke across language barriers that leaves the room reeling. He´s short, stocky, with circular glasses and two smooth outfits he rotates all week - but they are damn smooth, with shoelaces that match jacket pinstripes and complementing slacks.
You have to hand it to these chinese students; they are faced with not only a new language but a new set of sounds and alphabet. All three have little or no english. And why are there so many chinese in Ecuador and Panama? The most common response appears to be business. Yes, the astonishingly hardworking chinese are at in South America, keeping their modest shops (with everything you need) open longer and on Sundays of course, and providing some of the only respites from the heavy Ecuadorian comita typico. Sometimes a ¨Chifa¨ sign above a restaurant doorway just makes you happy inside, you know?! Slowly, with the support of government assistance programs and dedicated family ties, these people are seriously taking over the globe!
Mulata de Tard
I haven´t done a lot of going out late here in Quito. La Mariscal is a mess of touristy bars and clubs (gringo-landia), resulting in late night robberies and frequent assualts that I just wasn´t ready to test on my own yet. It is one of the most dangerous parts of the city at night, so if you don´t have people to meet...But friday I hung out at the girls´ georgeous apartment for coffee, assorted snacks and late night conversation where I met Gabbi, who was performing the next evening at a restaurant\lounge in la Mariscal. Like most of the more educated friends I´ve met here, Gabbi unsurprisingly speaks english and spent a year in the States, in Portland, OR of all places. She said she spoke nothing for 4 months and then it just clicked. I hope the same holds true for me! She also had some terrible things to say about our average refrigerator holdings and general everyday diets as Americans - she couldn´t help but gain some weight that year in the States, which she promptly shook off upon her return to Quito and the more healthy, reasonable diet here.
Kicking back with Club beer, greek ouzo, and glasses of merlot to the chill sounds of Moby, Bjork, Portishead, and Depeche Mode (Titi goes nuts over that band), we all exchanged some new slang as I desperately attempted to comprehend spanish conversation. The ladies are making a point of trying not to speak English around me anymore. I´m always fascinated when the conversation turns to politics and I hear stories about the various presidents screwing up and fleeing the country. In one instance 24hr street protests brought the city to a standstill and forced the President to flee the country from the airport as the people literally rushed the runways. Next day life was back to normal as the VP assumed control. I tried to explain what this level of protest (and likely violence) would do to my country. I can´t even imagine. Here it is normal.
So back to Gabbi. She´s beautiful, half Portuguese (lived there for 4 years), an interior designer/architect here in Quito, and the younger sister of one of Titi´s good friends. Through her love of singing Gabbi has found a way to tap into her heritage. The following night we found ourselves guests of the lead singer of a band performing Brasilian music at a restaurant\lounge in la Mariscal.
It´s too bad the band is not permanently together. Carlos is Gabbi´s friend and also sings on most of the songs, it´s really his group and he must return to Brasil. Carlos has a way with the crowd that brings everything to a higher level, especially in a cosy restaurant space. Gabbi looked great and overcame her anxiety to sing beautifully; my favorite songs were her and Carlos´duets, a lively hit titled ¨Mama Afrika,¨ and the Portuguese version of the Beatles´I´ll Follow the Sun. The drummer wasn´t much to write home about, but the French saxophonist and the guitarist were first-rate. As it turns out, the guitarist is none other than the brother of a famous Ecuadorian musician, and is himself well known as a child prodigy in classical guitar who has traveled widely to demonstrate his finger-picking skillz. Gabbi was in fine company.
The evening was fantastic, like one of those Italian restaurant nights where you just waste away for hours with fine company and libations. When the music´s energy and temperature swelled the room it reminded me a lot of my night with the Bosnian crew in Novi Sad, Serbia, poeple dancing and clapping and drunk on exotic drinks and foreign tunes. A lively French contingent had come to support their friend the saxophonist, and countless Brasilian family and friends littered the room belting out accompanyments to each new verse. Titi and I sat with Gabbi´s friends Irina and Adela - both georgeous, highly educated, well traveled and had a year abroad in the States (they know Bethesda too), and english speakers of course. Irina was very kind and helped me speak a bit in Spanish. She is taking french lessons herself after just graduating from undergrad, and can afford to be picky looking for a high-paid NGO type job in agricultural science because her father has sanctioned the year off to figure things out. Adela was embarassed to test her english skills after so long without practice but understood anything I said. Adela is actually doing a Masters in communications at PUCE, so hopefully I´ll see her around campus.
Can this type of girl I keep meeting really be that common here? Can´t be, right? At a certain point one has to wonder how they can all be single if they are goodlooking, smart and multilingual.
Ecuadorian Sopa
On Sunday I was invited to have lunch with the family at the girls´apartment. All I knew was something ¨¨typico¨was on the menu. Well, it was delicious. I brought some flowers which went over well, and enjoyed empanadas, the famous 12 grain\bean Fonesca Soup, and 3 flavors of helado to finish, all while 2 yr old Lucas ran around playing in the background. He´s finally not scared of me and even said goodbye to Peter Pan. But back to the soup, because it is my new favorite. It is a thick, heavy broth made even heavier by countless types of beans and all the trimmings in small dishes on the table you add to the potpourri. My favorite addittive was the salty specks of cod fish - kind of reminded me of white fish back home. It is an old tradition here to prepare this soup heading into semana santa, and it takes a lot of preparation. It´s one of those things where everyone is supposed to put in some work and and it is a good excuse for quality family time. I didn´t help prepare, but I did get to eat! and spend more time with Nena the 3rd daughter and her husband Daniel, both of whom are very cool. They are the ones involved in music festivals, magazines and event planning, and told us about how good that guitarist really was the other night.
After lunch I went hiking in a new park (for me), Parque Metropolitano, with Titi for a while way up on a hill where Nene lives. Titi showed me some great spots and incredible vistas, and described a night circus festival she once organized in ¨the lagoon¨clearing under a full moon. Sounds very cool - speaking of which, the other night the sky looked crazy here - was there a worldwide lunar event?
Exiting the park and heading to Nene´s house we passed the architecturally unique Museo de Guayasamin, probably the most widely recognized Ecuadorian painter. I´ll have to check that one out soon. Nena´s house is modern and beautiful. Like a dumbass I commented on the ¨bella vista¨ with the little spanish I could muster before being informed that the entire community is actually called Bella Vista. From the small front yard where Lucas plays, you can see an impressive panorama of the city, including a great view of the U.S. Ambassador´s gigantic white house high up on a hill in a forest of trees, and El Panecillo of course (the virgin overlooking the city). I got a snapshot of the sisters.
So that´s all for now. I´m done testing my ankle on the basketball court and hiking trails for now. I´ll turn my attention even more fervently to my studies (leccion 2 test on Wed, yikes!)
Chao for now.
...wow, the lead singer Carlos just sat down next to me at the internet cafe...! Que chevere! He´s playing again on Friday nearby!
3 comments:
Peter,
I love reading your blogs, keep'em coming! It is a real trip reading these and your past experiences that you are too modest to talk about while home. Chip was right, we need more Foxy story time! Good luck with Spanish and that ankle....
James
Woo..... It must have taken you a lot of time to write this post?
Hey, just stumbled upon your blog looking for other quito blogs since i'll be living there this summer. I had a great time reading your posts, which are well written and I love the descriptions. Keep it up!
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