I think I'll make note of an unusual and most amusing moment on our recent ministry/service trip to southern Ecuador.
We were traveling south from Riobamba to a town of about 4,ooo people called Alausí (pronounced Al-ow-see) to the site of the first ministry efforts of our week. We came upon an indigenous woman (in the states, we'd say Native American or Indian) walking her cow down the road. Or maybe it was the cow walking her. Either way, the lady was wearing the typical attire of a brilliant colored, knee length gathered skirt, with a red shawl and brown fedora.
As we passed by, some noticed that she had just lost grip on the rope and the calf...I'd guess it was a yearling.... was now trotting down the road in the same direction we were headed. We noticed a worried look on her face as she gave chase. The cow was quickly distancing herself from her owner. We drove ahead of the cow and one of our team leaders, Lucy Silva got out to assist....the cow slowed its pace as it approached Lucy. Just then, 2 of the guys (Kyle and Yoan, a seminary student from Venezuela) jumped out the van and began to give chase to capture the heifer. This of course spooked the cow and away she went....running right past Lucy. The owner looked even more desperate. The boys gave chase, but it was quite a distance before they caught up with Ms. Bovine, or Señorita Vaca. They were able to grab the lead rope and triumphantly returned the cow to the grateful owner, who could only express her gratitude in Quechuan. The young men understood her sentiment, if not her words.
While we were stopped, awaiting the capture and return of the cow, 3 of our young ladies asked if they could find a spot in the bushes to answer nature's call. We had been traveling for a good while with no signs of an approaching town or gas station of any sort. 1 of the girls walked over in a "northerly" route and the other 2 went in a more "southeasterly"direction to find their location of choice behind trees, shrubs, etc.
A few minutes later, we heard some anxious "squealing" or "shrieking", as often occurs when one comes upon a snake unexpectedly. A moment later, a man comes into view, walking from the general area where the 2 young ladies had last been seen. He had a big grin on his face as he passed by our vans and proceeded walking down the road.
He was soon followed by the girls, who told us (with no small amount of emotion) that the spot they had chosen turned out to be just off a well worn path. Just when they had fully "assumed the position", along comes this fellow up the trail, passing within mere feet of their potty station. He passed by just at the most opportune/inopportune moment, depending on his or their perspective. As if that wasn't bad enough, they then turned around and realized that some 100-150 ft below their "station" on what they then realized as being a fully exposed (in more ways than one) hillside bluff, was a little town. A bus was going by beneath and behind them, and there was a group of people, sitting on a front porch of one of the houses facing the hillside. They were drinking coffee, all the while watching 2 full (American) moons appear on the horizon directly in front of them, quite a bit earlier than the normal time for sunset.
After we heard the story in detail, and our laughter subsided, we loaded up in the vans and resumed our journey. Just around the next bend along the mountain highway was a gas station with the long desired facilities. As we passed by, howling with laughter, we soon came upon a road crew doing some repairs. As fortune would have it, there was "the man" waving to us (well, probably it's more accurate to say that he was specifically waving to a couple of our group) wearing that same broad grin.
I have withheld the names of the victims. I will only say that they attend a certain university that is sponsored by the Church of the Nazarene.... located about an hour south of Chicago.
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
Thursday, 25 March 2010
Sitting at the internet booth
Thinking of a few miscellaneous things.
1. If I was president of Ecuador, I would enact 2 laws immediately.
a. Ecuador is one of the most beautiful places on the planet. Please, people...clean up the trash.
b. I would outlaw the use of mayonnaise on hot dogs, and on pizza.
2. We were in a Juan Valdez (seriously) coffee shop in Quito. I saw this girl smiling really big in my direction. At first, I thought I was seeing a former SNU student, Misty Chenault. As it turned out, this young lady was smiling because she is from Oregon and she was happy to see my Oregon St tee shirt. We started talking and the conversation centered on where she lived and where we lived when there...come to find out she knows Darlene's cousin's daughter in the small town of Silverton, OR. Only downer in the conversation was to learn that she is a Duck fan.
3. I think there are more dogs than people in Ecuador. Since I am much more of a dog fan than cat fan, I think that this is okay, but you have to watch where you step at times.
4. Kaylee turns 21 tomorrow. Wish we were home for the big event. Thanks to Scott and Mary Lynn and Laronda for subbing for us. WE LOVE YOU, KAYLEE!
5. Dinner for 2 with my girlfriend, Darlene tonight. Enjoying the Spanish colonial town of Cuenca. Oh, dinner was under $8 for the total tab.
6. Other than the Super Bowl.....little/no TV for 2 plus months now. March Madness? Spring Training, Olympics? Not for Mr. Miguel. Soccer rules here....and I am actually starting to enjoy watching it...I can hardly believe it. A seminary student gave me a gift of his favorite team's soccer jersey. So nice of him. It looks great. The biggest logo on the shirt is that of the sponsoring beer company.
Hasta luego.
1. If I was president of Ecuador, I would enact 2 laws immediately.
a. Ecuador is one of the most beautiful places on the planet. Please, people...clean up the trash.
b. I would outlaw the use of mayonnaise on hot dogs, and on pizza.
2. We were in a Juan Valdez (seriously) coffee shop in Quito. I saw this girl smiling really big in my direction. At first, I thought I was seeing a former SNU student, Misty Chenault. As it turned out, this young lady was smiling because she is from Oregon and she was happy to see my Oregon St tee shirt. We started talking and the conversation centered on where she lived and where we lived when there...come to find out she knows Darlene's cousin's daughter in the small town of Silverton, OR. Only downer in the conversation was to learn that she is a Duck fan.
3. I think there are more dogs than people in Ecuador. Since I am much more of a dog fan than cat fan, I think that this is okay, but you have to watch where you step at times.
4. Kaylee turns 21 tomorrow. Wish we were home for the big event. Thanks to Scott and Mary Lynn and Laronda for subbing for us. WE LOVE YOU, KAYLEE!
5. Dinner for 2 with my girlfriend, Darlene tonight. Enjoying the Spanish colonial town of Cuenca. Oh, dinner was under $8 for the total tab.
6. Other than the Super Bowl.....little/no TV for 2 plus months now. March Madness? Spring Training, Olympics? Not for Mr. Miguel. Soccer rules here....and I am actually starting to enjoy watching it...I can hardly believe it. A seminary student gave me a gift of his favorite team's soccer jersey. So nice of him. It looks great. The biggest logo on the shirt is that of the sponsoring beer company.
Hasta luego.
Not at all "a-lous-y" place
We are in the middle of a 10 day ministry trip with our NILI university students and several Latin students from the Seminary. I think there are about 19 of us in total. We´ve been doing some children´s outreach events, evening services and some work and witness type experiences such as painting the interior of a church and working on the roof.
We´ve journeyed south from Quito several hours. We stopped in Riobamba and visited a enormous vegetable and fruit market. Trucks galore. We learned that 80 per cent of the produce of Ecuador passes through this market. Vegetables and fruit, some familiar, some unfamiliar were displayed beautifully. It was a visual smorgasboard of color.
Riobamba is surrounded by mountains, with 3 large volcanoes in view in various directions. We drove up to one, Chimborazo, the highest peak along the equator in the world. It´s over 20,000 ft, and we were able to climb on it for a few hours. We began our climb at over 16,000 feet, so oxygen was in high demand. Some in the group climbed about 1500 or more vertical feet, so we were up in the range of 18,000 is my guess. We´d stop to check our pulse and you could just feel it in your chest and didn´t have to put your finger to the neck or wrist. We eventually were hiking on a glacier, though the top was covered with cinder. Darlene and I turned back when our fingers became numb (packed the jackets and the stocking cap but forgot the gloves). about 6 or so pressed on to the area where the glacier wall was above or on top of the volcanic cinder. Needless to say, it was a good aerobic day.
We then spent a couple of days in a little pueblo called Alausi (sounds like, She had a lousy day....with the emphasis on the last syllable). It´s located on the side of a mountain, and is actually named San Pedro of Alausi. There´s a 100 ft statue of St. Peter on a hill at the edge of town watching over the city. It´s made of those very small and colorful ceramic tiles. Peter is holding what looks to be the keys to heaven or maybe they are to his room at a local hostel, and also what looks to be a Bible. But the NT hadn´t been written during his lifetime, so maybe it was a forerunner of a Grisham novel?
We loved that town...peaceful, easy to walk (except for all the series of stairs!) around and visit with people. On Sunday, we were responsible for the church service, but it didn´t occur until 5, so we visited the markets....went to the animal market about a mile down the hill and watched people barter with each other over horses, sheep, cattle, pigs, goats, etc. No auctioneer, just one to one waving and gesturing, standing in the middle of the pens. Some were eating ice cream (the people) while standing in the middle of all that....well, you know.
We went about town inviting people to church. The pastor wanted to take advantage of having a cast of gringos present...so we hit the streets to pass out literature and invite people. Several told me that they´d be there, but I didn´t have high hopes on return for my investment, as folks here don´t like to offend directly so they might say "yes" to a commitment and then just not show up.
3 folks that I invited did arrive early to peer in to listen to the praise band or team practice. However, when the pastor arrived, I tried to introduce him to these 3 and he kind of just brushed on by to enter the church. None of them stayed, and I can´t say as I blame them. 2 were little guys, shoeshine boys. On Saturdays and Sundays little guys about ages 7 to 12 from up in the hills come in to shine shoes in the plaza for some change. They work long hours. They are often dirty from the polish or from just plain lack of care.
Throughout the day, about 6 different little guys approached Darlene and me about a shoeshine. We were wearing our hiking shoes, so black polish didn´t seem like a good idea. But, these little guys really tugged at my heart, so I took each of them aside and thanked them for their long hours of work and their effort. I gave them each a $1 as a thank you for their work. I checked with one of our Ecuadoran leaders to make sure I wasn´t encouraging begging, so when she gave me the thumbs up, I went about the business of trying to encourage them. I hoped that 2 of them would come to the church service, but I think they were too intimidated, or maybe they had to keep working. They said they had to work til sometime after the service started. At 8 to 10 years old that´s pretty long hours.
There was a rooster/cock fighting event that afternoon. We didn´t make it there, but we did see the bull fighting ring or arena that´s used in special holiday festivals.
We did seem some butterflies and moths that looked to be taking steroids (they were very large) and we did spot some more colorful birds, which made me very happy.
The next day, we enjoyed a ride down a steep mountainside to an interesting scenic point called El Nariz del Diablo....the nose of the devil. Actually, you can take a train. I´ve seen a National Geographic special on this ride, and we hoped to take the train. But, the train line is over 100 years old and the weight of the train often spreads the track rails and the wheels slip off the rail. Plus, tradition is that folks ride on top of the train. Well, they´ve had some deaths.
Things came to a "head" apparently about a year ago, when 2 Chinese tourists we decapitated while riding the train down the steep 2 hour journey. They apparently were taking photos and didn´t duck when the train entered a tunnel or passed under some piece of equipment. Anyway, the government paid out 20 million and decided that riding on top was no longer an option. They have since decided to repair the rail lines as it will enhance tourism, and have closed the line for 7 months. So, maybe next time. But the ride down was very scenic, reminding us of the Eastern Highlands of Papua New Guinea, Darlene´s home. Taking in such an experience with college students in an adventure in and of itself. Love it.
The two days of riding south have been some of our favorite during our journey. Mountainous, pastoral, with patchwork gardens covering the mountainsides, in many cases almost to the crest. I think that Ecuardian cattle must have interchangable legs. The downhill set needs to be a bit longer than the pair of legs on the uphill side. When I was in Argentina for student mission corps back in college, I noticed that the beef was very tender and learned that Argentina is famous for the quality of it´s beef. On the other hand, the beef here in E is quite, well, durable and long lasting when chewing. I think I understand the difference. The cattle of Argentina enjoy living and dining on the Pampa, which is lush and FLAT, while the Bovines of the Andes here in Ecuador have to climb-climb up Sunshine Mountain, and down the mountain, and across mountains to graze. These bacas have muscled up, hence the opportunity to savor a long chew when we get to enjoy beef.
Well, since Alausi, we´ve been in the beautiful Spanish colonial city of Cuenca, site of 3 days of ministry and 1 day of sightseeing. Much to say about this experience, but I´ll let my blue paint encrusted fingers take a break and post those reflections later.
Last night at the church service, the students did a great job of leading in worship...with the congregation singing with gusto....and joy. Then, Stephanie, an ONU senior who is on her way to Notre Dame for grad school, preached in Spanish and did an excellent job with such a warm spirit behind her words. A couple of guys (Kyle and Freddy) shared their testimonies in Spanish. They are all part of the Advanced group of students. I´m swimming along in Intermediate land, but hopefully am improving. Anyway, they did great and the Spirit of the Lord was apparent and the bond of fellowhship between believers from different cultures was touching....plus they served us some tasty Ecuadorian dishes afterwards. So, church potluck Ecuadorian style ended about 10 p.m. with smiles and hugs all around.
We´ve journeyed south from Quito several hours. We stopped in Riobamba and visited a enormous vegetable and fruit market. Trucks galore. We learned that 80 per cent of the produce of Ecuador passes through this market. Vegetables and fruit, some familiar, some unfamiliar were displayed beautifully. It was a visual smorgasboard of color.
Riobamba is surrounded by mountains, with 3 large volcanoes in view in various directions. We drove up to one, Chimborazo, the highest peak along the equator in the world. It´s over 20,000 ft, and we were able to climb on it for a few hours. We began our climb at over 16,000 feet, so oxygen was in high demand. Some in the group climbed about 1500 or more vertical feet, so we were up in the range of 18,000 is my guess. We´d stop to check our pulse and you could just feel it in your chest and didn´t have to put your finger to the neck or wrist. We eventually were hiking on a glacier, though the top was covered with cinder. Darlene and I turned back when our fingers became numb (packed the jackets and the stocking cap but forgot the gloves). about 6 or so pressed on to the area where the glacier wall was above or on top of the volcanic cinder. Needless to say, it was a good aerobic day.
We then spent a couple of days in a little pueblo called Alausi (sounds like, She had a lousy day....with the emphasis on the last syllable). It´s located on the side of a mountain, and is actually named San Pedro of Alausi. There´s a 100 ft statue of St. Peter on a hill at the edge of town watching over the city. It´s made of those very small and colorful ceramic tiles. Peter is holding what looks to be the keys to heaven or maybe they are to his room at a local hostel, and also what looks to be a Bible. But the NT hadn´t been written during his lifetime, so maybe it was a forerunner of a Grisham novel?
We loved that town...peaceful, easy to walk (except for all the series of stairs!) around and visit with people. On Sunday, we were responsible for the church service, but it didn´t occur until 5, so we visited the markets....went to the animal market about a mile down the hill and watched people barter with each other over horses, sheep, cattle, pigs, goats, etc. No auctioneer, just one to one waving and gesturing, standing in the middle of the pens. Some were eating ice cream (the people) while standing in the middle of all that....well, you know.
We went about town inviting people to church. The pastor wanted to take advantage of having a cast of gringos present...so we hit the streets to pass out literature and invite people. Several told me that they´d be there, but I didn´t have high hopes on return for my investment, as folks here don´t like to offend directly so they might say "yes" to a commitment and then just not show up.
3 folks that I invited did arrive early to peer in to listen to the praise band or team practice. However, when the pastor arrived, I tried to introduce him to these 3 and he kind of just brushed on by to enter the church. None of them stayed, and I can´t say as I blame them. 2 were little guys, shoeshine boys. On Saturdays and Sundays little guys about ages 7 to 12 from up in the hills come in to shine shoes in the plaza for some change. They work long hours. They are often dirty from the polish or from just plain lack of care.
Throughout the day, about 6 different little guys approached Darlene and me about a shoeshine. We were wearing our hiking shoes, so black polish didn´t seem like a good idea. But, these little guys really tugged at my heart, so I took each of them aside and thanked them for their long hours of work and their effort. I gave them each a $1 as a thank you for their work. I checked with one of our Ecuadoran leaders to make sure I wasn´t encouraging begging, so when she gave me the thumbs up, I went about the business of trying to encourage them. I hoped that 2 of them would come to the church service, but I think they were too intimidated, or maybe they had to keep working. They said they had to work til sometime after the service started. At 8 to 10 years old that´s pretty long hours.
There was a rooster/cock fighting event that afternoon. We didn´t make it there, but we did see the bull fighting ring or arena that´s used in special holiday festivals.
We did seem some butterflies and moths that looked to be taking steroids (they were very large) and we did spot some more colorful birds, which made me very happy.
The next day, we enjoyed a ride down a steep mountainside to an interesting scenic point called El Nariz del Diablo....the nose of the devil. Actually, you can take a train. I´ve seen a National Geographic special on this ride, and we hoped to take the train. But, the train line is over 100 years old and the weight of the train often spreads the track rails and the wheels slip off the rail. Plus, tradition is that folks ride on top of the train. Well, they´ve had some deaths.
Things came to a "head" apparently about a year ago, when 2 Chinese tourists we decapitated while riding the train down the steep 2 hour journey. They apparently were taking photos and didn´t duck when the train entered a tunnel or passed under some piece of equipment. Anyway, the government paid out 20 million and decided that riding on top was no longer an option. They have since decided to repair the rail lines as it will enhance tourism, and have closed the line for 7 months. So, maybe next time. But the ride down was very scenic, reminding us of the Eastern Highlands of Papua New Guinea, Darlene´s home. Taking in such an experience with college students in an adventure in and of itself. Love it.
The two days of riding south have been some of our favorite during our journey. Mountainous, pastoral, with patchwork gardens covering the mountainsides, in many cases almost to the crest. I think that Ecuardian cattle must have interchangable legs. The downhill set needs to be a bit longer than the pair of legs on the uphill side. When I was in Argentina for student mission corps back in college, I noticed that the beef was very tender and learned that Argentina is famous for the quality of it´s beef. On the other hand, the beef here in E is quite, well, durable and long lasting when chewing. I think I understand the difference. The cattle of Argentina enjoy living and dining on the Pampa, which is lush and FLAT, while the Bovines of the Andes here in Ecuador have to climb-climb up Sunshine Mountain, and down the mountain, and across mountains to graze. These bacas have muscled up, hence the opportunity to savor a long chew when we get to enjoy beef.
Well, since Alausi, we´ve been in the beautiful Spanish colonial city of Cuenca, site of 3 days of ministry and 1 day of sightseeing. Much to say about this experience, but I´ll let my blue paint encrusted fingers take a break and post those reflections later.
Last night at the church service, the students did a great job of leading in worship...with the congregation singing with gusto....and joy. Then, Stephanie, an ONU senior who is on her way to Notre Dame for grad school, preached in Spanish and did an excellent job with such a warm spirit behind her words. A couple of guys (Kyle and Freddy) shared their testimonies in Spanish. They are all part of the Advanced group of students. I´m swimming along in Intermediate land, but hopefully am improving. Anyway, they did great and the Spirit of the Lord was apparent and the bond of fellowhship between believers from different cultures was touching....plus they served us some tasty Ecuadorian dishes afterwards. So, church potluck Ecuadorian style ended about 10 p.m. with smiles and hugs all around.
Friday, 19 March 2010
Eastern Slope of the Andes
We embark today on a 10 day ministry trip to 4 locations to the south of Quito. We will be sharing this team experience with several of the Latin students from the seminary, as this week coming is a "ministry week" for all students here. I spoke with Gustavo last night who is headed over into the "selva" or jungle region to minister at a church in a small town for the week. So, this is part of their training here. We'll eventually end up in Quenca, Ecuador's fourth largest city, with ministry and outreach to children and youth as the primary focus. I have learned this about Quenca from a bit of reading. It is the home of some beautiful Spanish colonial architecture, and also is "the" place or the area where Panama hats are made. Then why not call them Ecuador hats, or "Ecuador Jack" instead of his more famous Panamanian counterpart? Darlene says that it's because that during the years of the construction of the Panama Canal many of the workers wore these hats that were made in Ecuador. So, people started calling them Panama hats. She did the research when I was buying one such hat a month back at a market in Otavalo. She's so smart.
Before we leave, I think I'll write a bit about our trip last weekend over to the eastern slope of the Andes. Darlene and I, along with 3 university students (Kyle, Jessica and Sarah-ONU students) traveled about 3-4 hours over to the beginnings of the Amazon region, and visited a retreat area in the mountains. I had been inquiring about a great place to see some of the over 1500 species of birds that make Ecuador home, and this option came open.
We traveled over a road that is the paved road that travels at the highest elevation of any road in Ecuador, over 13,000 feet. When we reached the pass, both coming and going, we stopped for some photos of Antisana, one of the tall volcanic peaks. We could only see the base and lower 1/3 of the mtn. going east, but returning to Quito on Sunday, we snapped some photos of the snow covered peak as well. We stopped and viewed/touched "paper trees"....the bark feels like very thin paper. We stopped in the small town that was at the epicenter of a devastating earthquake in 1987. They built a new town just a few minutes to the east, but had restored some of the original town. We saw men leading horses with wooden frame packs strapped to their backs, loaded with 2 large old fashioned milk cans, taking their product to the collection center to be processed before heading back to their mountain homes.
At the cabaña, the retreat house, we were hosted by Susana and Marco Silva. She's worked for Peace Corps and he is an engineer who's also taught math. The log cabin in the jungle was wonderfully rustic and lovely. The meals were simple, and very tasty. They have their own little hydroelectric operation from mtn stream water to provide some of their electricity. Marco led us on a couple of jungle hikes, where we saw some "first growth, or primary forest, with some trees being as old as 1300 years. We saw a couple of bear caves, which actually are under the roots of these giant trees. They were home to a spectacled bear that has white around it's eyes. A very timid bear, Marco has seen one, but 6 people in the jungle gave the bears, and the curious but timid pumas and tapirs that live in this area plenty of advance notice. We wore high rubber boots, because it was so boggy at places along the trail that we'd sink up almost to our knees in places.
We took a late night hike in the jungle and it had been raining, so when we turned over our lights for some of the walk, it was fun to hear the night sounds without being able to see anything of yourself or anything nearby.....we held hands and walked on as we heard raindrops splattering on the leaves nearby. We head two little headlamps (Marco and me) that we eventually turned back on so that we could find our way along.
The next morning we were up for the "bird watching" experience. (My phone/alarm woke me up an hour early, as it apparently changed due to the time change back home. I went around waking everyone up at 4:30 a.m, thinking it was an hour later. Darlene and the students let me know of my error fairly directly, quickly, and with an absence of malice.)
I know that birds of a feather flock together, but in the jungle they can be easy to hear, but difficult to see, especially at daylight with a slate gray sky. Eventually, we were able to see some beautiful birds with yellow chests/belly, green wings and white head feathers, and some hummingbirds, a little brilliant blue fellow, and a couple of large parrots flying over on a walk to/from the river along a gravel road later.....but largely I didn't get to see the volume and variety of birds that I'd hoped for....but it's like fishing, in that patience is a virtue as well as enjoyment of the act of searching/seeking to spot colorful critters. My quest to see a toucan continues.
We had a couple of river hikes (Jessica fell in, soaked) that led to seeing some exquisite red orchids. The mountain terrain reminded Darlene and me of Papua New Guinea, her childhood home. She enjoyed seeing that so much.
The area was much less populated than we expected, which was a delight. We had a great experience, one that was "natural" and relaxed, and are grateful for the memories.
Before we leave, I think I'll write a bit about our trip last weekend over to the eastern slope of the Andes. Darlene and I, along with 3 university students (Kyle, Jessica and Sarah-ONU students) traveled about 3-4 hours over to the beginnings of the Amazon region, and visited a retreat area in the mountains. I had been inquiring about a great place to see some of the over 1500 species of birds that make Ecuador home, and this option came open.
We traveled over a road that is the paved road that travels at the highest elevation of any road in Ecuador, over 13,000 feet. When we reached the pass, both coming and going, we stopped for some photos of Antisana, one of the tall volcanic peaks. We could only see the base and lower 1/3 of the mtn. going east, but returning to Quito on Sunday, we snapped some photos of the snow covered peak as well. We stopped and viewed/touched "paper trees"....the bark feels like very thin paper. We stopped in the small town that was at the epicenter of a devastating earthquake in 1987. They built a new town just a few minutes to the east, but had restored some of the original town. We saw men leading horses with wooden frame packs strapped to their backs, loaded with 2 large old fashioned milk cans, taking their product to the collection center to be processed before heading back to their mountain homes.
At the cabaña, the retreat house, we were hosted by Susana and Marco Silva. She's worked for Peace Corps and he is an engineer who's also taught math. The log cabin in the jungle was wonderfully rustic and lovely. The meals were simple, and very tasty. They have their own little hydroelectric operation from mtn stream water to provide some of their electricity. Marco led us on a couple of jungle hikes, where we saw some "first growth, or primary forest, with some trees being as old as 1300 years. We saw a couple of bear caves, which actually are under the roots of these giant trees. They were home to a spectacled bear that has white around it's eyes. A very timid bear, Marco has seen one, but 6 people in the jungle gave the bears, and the curious but timid pumas and tapirs that live in this area plenty of advance notice. We wore high rubber boots, because it was so boggy at places along the trail that we'd sink up almost to our knees in places.
We took a late night hike in the jungle and it had been raining, so when we turned over our lights for some of the walk, it was fun to hear the night sounds without being able to see anything of yourself or anything nearby.....we held hands and walked on as we heard raindrops splattering on the leaves nearby. We head two little headlamps (Marco and me) that we eventually turned back on so that we could find our way along.
The next morning we were up for the "bird watching" experience. (My phone/alarm woke me up an hour early, as it apparently changed due to the time change back home. I went around waking everyone up at 4:30 a.m, thinking it was an hour later. Darlene and the students let me know of my error fairly directly, quickly, and with an absence of malice.)
I know that birds of a feather flock together, but in the jungle they can be easy to hear, but difficult to see, especially at daylight with a slate gray sky. Eventually, we were able to see some beautiful birds with yellow chests/belly, green wings and white head feathers, and some hummingbirds, a little brilliant blue fellow, and a couple of large parrots flying over on a walk to/from the river along a gravel road later.....but largely I didn't get to see the volume and variety of birds that I'd hoped for....but it's like fishing, in that patience is a virtue as well as enjoyment of the act of searching/seeking to spot colorful critters. My quest to see a toucan continues.
We had a couple of river hikes (Jessica fell in, soaked) that led to seeing some exquisite red orchids. The mountain terrain reminded Darlene and me of Papua New Guinea, her childhood home. She enjoyed seeing that so much.
The area was much less populated than we expected, which was a delight. We had a great experience, one that was "natural" and relaxed, and are grateful for the memories.
Friday, 12 March 2010
Da Bus
I seem to recall that one of C.S. Lewis' books was The Great Divorce. If my memory serves me well, the subjects in the story were on a bus ride to hell. Something about free will, choices and consequences, as I recall. The concept of what a bus ride to hell might be like crosses my mind when I think about riding the bus here. It's often very crowded. As in the, "excuse me, I don't even know your name" kind of crowded.
Last weekend the "traditional students" of NILI had a home stay with an Ecuadorian family. So, us "non-traditionals" were left to determine our own destiny. We had received an invitation from an pastor who is indigenous to come visit his church. It's about 2 hours away from Quito. Travel would involve a bus ride. I started thinking of C.S. Lewis. I knew that our destination was supposed to be Guasaquil, about 20 minutes up in the mountains from Otavalo, the home of the world famous artisan market that we had visited previously. As I contemplated a bus ride for Pastor Dan from Michigan, Darlene and me, with me being the most experienced speaker of spanish among the 3 of us, and thought of my experiences on the city buses of Quito, well, I thought again of the destination of C.S. Lewis' bus ride. I wondered if ours would turn out to be a similar route. But, all were up for the adventure, so off we went.
Actually, it was a pretty tame ride. We left early Saturday morning, so the crowds were okay on the bus. I gave Darlene the window seat and planted myself on the aisle. The bus filled up as the assistant to the driver barked "Otavalo, Otavalo" over and over, attempting to drum up business from those arriving at the bus terminal. He would hang from the door like a monkey, shouting for customers. The seats were filled, and there were only about 10 people standing in the aisle on this bus. I didn't envy them standing for 2 hours. I thought about giving my seat to a lady. For some reason that's all I did was think about it for bit.
I should have given her my seat. She was almost in my lap, as she stood in the aisle immediately to my left. Her backside and her backpack were about 6" away from my face. She was with her family of 5. Thankfully, they only rode for about an hour with us before departing the bus.
Some people brought their own food, which added some rich aromas. Others purchased food from "traveling" salesmen or saleswomen who would jump on the bus at a stop in a village, walk up and down the aisles offering sweets, ice cream or chips (sweet or salty) made from the yucca plant. Then after a round trip to the back of the bus and return, the bus would stop and they'd hop off.
Folks tended to look at we three gringos with interest. Little children would flat out stare. Traffic was light on the 2 lane PanAmerican Highway. I thought, "Hey, if we stay on this road for several days, we'll be in California. My second thought was, "Otavalo is a good distance for starters."
We road by scads (that's Spanish for "lots") of greenhouses on the mountainsides and in the valleys as we headed north from Quito. Growing roses for export is Big Business here, somewhere down the line from Oil, Bananas and Shrimp....the big 3 of Ecuadoran exports. A dozen of these beauties (roses) will tap you for $1. That's one (uno) George Washington.
The bus route was $4 round trip, per person. $8 for the two of us was a tremendous price for an adventure on Da Bus.
Darlene was in fine forme as a bargain hunter at the Otavalo market. She thinks I am too soft. I don't feel comfortable haggling over $2. But, she's right...it's part of the game there. I prefer to take pictures and talk with the "casaritas/casaritos" (artisans who sell their products) about the family, etc. Don't get me wrong, I find it fun to shop there and Darlene has to restrain me from buying much more than we can use or give away. A few of the vendors remembered us from our visit a month earlier. That made for a nice connection.
We stayed at the hostel "Valle del Amanecer", which is translated Valley of the Sunrise. Last time we were awake well before sunrise, due to the party-hearty crowd in the vicinity of our room. This time, all was quiet and our $11 a person room with hot water and a scrumptuous breakfast of large pancakes with pineapple, banana and papaya included in the price were bargains in and of themselves.
Sunday, we loaded us and our stuff into a truck with Pastor Luis and driver and headed up to Guassaquil. The service was half in Spanish and half in Quichuan, an indigenous language. It was great to see the people in traditional dress, with women wearing white blouses that were delicately embroidered with lovely, colorful handiwork. Many of the men wore the traditional (for them) white sandals, white pants and shirt and navy blue poncho, with a fedora. Pastor had asked us to prepare testimonies in spanish for the people, so that was an enjoyable experience to be able to share of the Gospel's importance in my life. Meeting the people and especially Pastor Luis' extended family was a genuine highlight. We shared communion together. Pastor Luis' looks just like what I imagine the long lost brother of my friend and former professor, Dr. Gerard Reed might resemble. Gerard has a strong Native American heritage. I emailed Gerard with the good news that I'd found his brother.
The bus ride home was uneventful. We had the back of the bus pretty much to ourselves, with the windows open to enjoy the fresh mountain air. We were even sufficiently adjusted to our environs to take a little nap while the bus wound it's way through the mountains, past the volcano Cayambe on our way back to Quito, once again crossing the equator.
Back from our little "on our own" adventure, we enjoyed listening to the adventures of our younger classmates with their Ecuador families....and then it was back to the books.
This weekend, 5 of us are off to a cloud forest. Ecuador has over 1500 species of birds (more than the U.S. and Canada combined), many of which are exotic. We'll be on the eastern slope of the Andes for 2 days, hiking, "birding", fishing for trout (that's what they said we get to do...I hope so) and I think we get to hike to a bear's cave. I hope Mrs. Bear is off to Quito for a weekend of shopping and not available to personally greet us.
Last weekend the "traditional students" of NILI had a home stay with an Ecuadorian family. So, us "non-traditionals" were left to determine our own destiny. We had received an invitation from an pastor who is indigenous to come visit his church. It's about 2 hours away from Quito. Travel would involve a bus ride. I started thinking of C.S. Lewis. I knew that our destination was supposed to be Guasaquil, about 20 minutes up in the mountains from Otavalo, the home of the world famous artisan market that we had visited previously. As I contemplated a bus ride for Pastor Dan from Michigan, Darlene and me, with me being the most experienced speaker of spanish among the 3 of us, and thought of my experiences on the city buses of Quito, well, I thought again of the destination of C.S. Lewis' bus ride. I wondered if ours would turn out to be a similar route. But, all were up for the adventure, so off we went.
Actually, it was a pretty tame ride. We left early Saturday morning, so the crowds were okay on the bus. I gave Darlene the window seat and planted myself on the aisle. The bus filled up as the assistant to the driver barked "Otavalo, Otavalo" over and over, attempting to drum up business from those arriving at the bus terminal. He would hang from the door like a monkey, shouting for customers. The seats were filled, and there were only about 10 people standing in the aisle on this bus. I didn't envy them standing for 2 hours. I thought about giving my seat to a lady. For some reason that's all I did was think about it for bit.
I should have given her my seat. She was almost in my lap, as she stood in the aisle immediately to my left. Her backside and her backpack were about 6" away from my face. She was with her family of 5. Thankfully, they only rode for about an hour with us before departing the bus.
Some people brought their own food, which added some rich aromas. Others purchased food from "traveling" salesmen or saleswomen who would jump on the bus at a stop in a village, walk up and down the aisles offering sweets, ice cream or chips (sweet or salty) made from the yucca plant. Then after a round trip to the back of the bus and return, the bus would stop and they'd hop off.
Folks tended to look at we three gringos with interest. Little children would flat out stare. Traffic was light on the 2 lane PanAmerican Highway. I thought, "Hey, if we stay on this road for several days, we'll be in California. My second thought was, "Otavalo is a good distance for starters."
We road by scads (that's Spanish for "lots") of greenhouses on the mountainsides and in the valleys as we headed north from Quito. Growing roses for export is Big Business here, somewhere down the line from Oil, Bananas and Shrimp....the big 3 of Ecuadoran exports. A dozen of these beauties (roses) will tap you for $1. That's one (uno) George Washington.
The bus route was $4 round trip, per person. $8 for the two of us was a tremendous price for an adventure on Da Bus.
Darlene was in fine forme as a bargain hunter at the Otavalo market. She thinks I am too soft. I don't feel comfortable haggling over $2. But, she's right...it's part of the game there. I prefer to take pictures and talk with the "casaritas/casaritos" (artisans who sell their products) about the family, etc. Don't get me wrong, I find it fun to shop there and Darlene has to restrain me from buying much more than we can use or give away. A few of the vendors remembered us from our visit a month earlier. That made for a nice connection.
We stayed at the hostel "Valle del Amanecer", which is translated Valley of the Sunrise. Last time we were awake well before sunrise, due to the party-hearty crowd in the vicinity of our room. This time, all was quiet and our $11 a person room with hot water and a scrumptuous breakfast of large pancakes with pineapple, banana and papaya included in the price were bargains in and of themselves.
Sunday, we loaded us and our stuff into a truck with Pastor Luis and driver and headed up to Guassaquil. The service was half in Spanish and half in Quichuan, an indigenous language. It was great to see the people in traditional dress, with women wearing white blouses that were delicately embroidered with lovely, colorful handiwork. Many of the men wore the traditional (for them) white sandals, white pants and shirt and navy blue poncho, with a fedora. Pastor had asked us to prepare testimonies in spanish for the people, so that was an enjoyable experience to be able to share of the Gospel's importance in my life. Meeting the people and especially Pastor Luis' extended family was a genuine highlight. We shared communion together. Pastor Luis' looks just like what I imagine the long lost brother of my friend and former professor, Dr. Gerard Reed might resemble. Gerard has a strong Native American heritage. I emailed Gerard with the good news that I'd found his brother.
The bus ride home was uneventful. We had the back of the bus pretty much to ourselves, with the windows open to enjoy the fresh mountain air. We were even sufficiently adjusted to our environs to take a little nap while the bus wound it's way through the mountains, past the volcano Cayambe on our way back to Quito, once again crossing the equator.
Back from our little "on our own" adventure, we enjoyed listening to the adventures of our younger classmates with their Ecuador families....and then it was back to the books.
This weekend, 5 of us are off to a cloud forest. Ecuador has over 1500 species of birds (more than the U.S. and Canada combined), many of which are exotic. We'll be on the eastern slope of the Andes for 2 days, hiking, "birding", fishing for trout (that's what they said we get to do...I hope so) and I think we get to hike to a bear's cave. I hope Mrs. Bear is off to Quito for a weekend of shopping and not available to personally greet us.
Thursday, 4 March 2010
In Praise of Virgil, "ButterBall" & Mrs. O
We've been back in Spanish classes following a 5 day road trip into the jungle region of Ecuador. Blogging about verb conjugations, reflexive verbs and the four uses of the conditional form lacks the excitement of subject matter such as waterfalls, monkeys, jungle flights and riding in a dugout canoe on a jungle river. So, I've been silent on the blog scene for a few days, trying to adjust back to the work at hand....improving in Spanish.
As I've been thinking a lot about grammar again these days, I've found myself thinking of (with gratitude) for some of my English teachers that laid the foundation for the level of understanding that I actually do have of things grammatical.
"Virgil", "Butterball" and "Mrs. O" were three of my English teachers in junior high and in high school. Of course, when addressing them directly, they were Mr. Schultz, Mr. Bartlett and Mrs. Ossenberg. We also had another English teacher nicknamed "Lead Bottom". I'll refrain from further comment. I assure you that the nicknames were passed down to us from the previous generation of students, and are not something for which my classmates and I bear responsibility!
It's been a good while now since I sat under their tutelage, but I've not forgotten their names, their nicknames nor the great care they took in fulfilling their charge of teaching a bunch of adolescents the nature and grammatical structure of the language and their attempts to help us begin to appreciate literature and it's powerful impact on life and one's worldview. Some days they did that....other days they just managed to get through the class period.
And then, as most good teachers do, they also share bits and pieces of practical "life" advice. For example, Mr. Schultz told us that he thought it wise to sign your name the same way each time you sign formal documents, such as personal checks. For some reason, that advice stuck with me. So, Michael A. Brooks it's been for a long time now. I still think of Virgil every now and then when I'm signing "mi nombre oficial".
During these first weeks in Ecuador, I've especially been thinking of these good folks, and also of my English profs in college. There are days when I really wish I had paid more attention in their classes back then. It would have made the process of learning the concepts of the spanish language somewhat easier. Then there are the other days, when I realize that I wouldn't be able to do as well as I am in seeking to acquire a second language were it not for their good instruction. Some of their labors are bearing fruit in my life here and now.
I also took a year of Beginning Spanish and a year of Intermediate Spanish during my working years at SNU. Prof Delores Wood was my professor, and I would say that she was one of that group of teachers and professors who are most engaging and passionate about learning. But that was 15 years ago or so. I wish I had not stopped taking classes at that time, but I am thankful for that foundation leading into this experience.
Language study for me is a "3 steps forward, 2 steps back" kind of process. Just when I think I'm making progress, along comes an experience in conversation or a grammatical concept that I just don't quite "get" and I realize how far I have to go. (The other day, I complimented the seminary president on his good looking suit. At least that's what I intended. He smiled when I realized that I had bragged on what a nice looking dress he was wearing....take two steps back, MB. I knew the word for "suit"...I really did.:) So, I've had a little of both types of experiences these past few days. Tomorrow, we have another exam. I wonder if it'll feel like a step forward, or backward? I better quit blogging and resume preparing, or I can guarantee the answer to my question.
Although not as exciting as outdoor or cultural adventures, I'm grateful for the opportunity to study this language. So, to the memories of Virgil, Butterball, Mrs. O, Prof Wood and others.....Muchas, muchas gracias.
Miguel
As I've been thinking a lot about grammar again these days, I've found myself thinking of (with gratitude) for some of my English teachers that laid the foundation for the level of understanding that I actually do have of things grammatical.
"Virgil", "Butterball" and "Mrs. O" were three of my English teachers in junior high and in high school. Of course, when addressing them directly, they were Mr. Schultz, Mr. Bartlett and Mrs. Ossenberg. We also had another English teacher nicknamed "Lead Bottom". I'll refrain from further comment. I assure you that the nicknames were passed down to us from the previous generation of students, and are not something for which my classmates and I bear responsibility!
It's been a good while now since I sat under their tutelage, but I've not forgotten their names, their nicknames nor the great care they took in fulfilling their charge of teaching a bunch of adolescents the nature and grammatical structure of the language and their attempts to help us begin to appreciate literature and it's powerful impact on life and one's worldview. Some days they did that....other days they just managed to get through the class period.
And then, as most good teachers do, they also share bits and pieces of practical "life" advice. For example, Mr. Schultz told us that he thought it wise to sign your name the same way each time you sign formal documents, such as personal checks. For some reason, that advice stuck with me. So, Michael A. Brooks it's been for a long time now. I still think of Virgil every now and then when I'm signing "mi nombre oficial".
During these first weeks in Ecuador, I've especially been thinking of these good folks, and also of my English profs in college. There are days when I really wish I had paid more attention in their classes back then. It would have made the process of learning the concepts of the spanish language somewhat easier. Then there are the other days, when I realize that I wouldn't be able to do as well as I am in seeking to acquire a second language were it not for their good instruction. Some of their labors are bearing fruit in my life here and now.
I also took a year of Beginning Spanish and a year of Intermediate Spanish during my working years at SNU. Prof Delores Wood was my professor, and I would say that she was one of that group of teachers and professors who are most engaging and passionate about learning. But that was 15 years ago or so. I wish I had not stopped taking classes at that time, but I am thankful for that foundation leading into this experience.
Language study for me is a "3 steps forward, 2 steps back" kind of process. Just when I think I'm making progress, along comes an experience in conversation or a grammatical concept that I just don't quite "get" and I realize how far I have to go. (The other day, I complimented the seminary president on his good looking suit. At least that's what I intended. He smiled when I realized that I had bragged on what a nice looking dress he was wearing....take two steps back, MB. I knew the word for "suit"...I really did.:) So, I've had a little of both types of experiences these past few days. Tomorrow, we have another exam. I wonder if it'll feel like a step forward, or backward? I better quit blogging and resume preparing, or I can guarantee the answer to my question.
Although not as exciting as outdoor or cultural adventures, I'm grateful for the opportunity to study this language. So, to the memories of Virgil, Butterball, Mrs. O, Prof Wood and others.....Muchas, muchas gracias.
Miguel
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