Good Morning Ecuador

Do I look lost? I'm supposed to be.

Last night, as my plane was flying high above Columbia, a voice came through the intercom and said , "Unfortunately ladies and gentlemen, the Quito airport has been closed as a result of weather conditions, we will be rerouting your flight to Guayaquil." Thirty minutes later, the pilot came back on and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, we can land in Quito, we are now turning around and will be arriving shortly. Of course, that is pilot humor, as the skies were incredibly clear and I was able to have my first fresh breath in about 5 days... well, a much fresher breath than those available in the City of Mexico.


The mystic haze that shrouds the buildings can be yours too, at the low cost of killing everything.

I spent my final day in Mexico City acclimating myself with the ways of the metro, riding all over the city. I went to Xochimilco--an oversized labrynth of waterways--then to Chapultepec, a grand park, if I do say so myself. As I wandered around on my final day, I couldn't allow myself to comprehend the brownish grey hue that lingers around all buildings in the city. It was everywhere. Eventually I found my way back to my dorm bed in the hostel and to my Lonely Planet South America Travel Guide, when I struck up a conversation with this English bloke Barney who had been traveling through South America for the last eight months. He gave me a ton of advice on Ecuador, the Galapagos Islands (if I choose to go there), and for traveling throughout South America. His friend Ed arrived and it turned out that they were going to watch the Luchadores--Mexican wrestlers. I, having been a wrestling fanatic when I was much much younger, could hardly resist the temptation of the high flying spectacle. We busted out to the streets, hailed a cab and were off. The next morning, I packed up my stuff, headed to Benito Juarez, and off I went to Ecuador.

After my first full day in Quito, I'm not too sure of what I think about it. It's a city--a big one at that--with less pollution than Mexico City. The Spanish is slower here, bus it seems as though its spoken with less clarity, a trade-off that I am dealing with to the best of my abilities. The sun is piercing whenever there happens to be no clouds. The coffee is good, and the people not as amiable as the Mexicanos, and their wonderful hospitality, that I have become so accustomed to. There are, however, quite a few brightspots after my first day. Safe to say, none of them have anything to do with tourists that refuse to speak Spanish and only increase the volume of their voice in order to try to get their point across.

One of the simplest, and coolest, things that I have been able to do is walk into a market place and have lunch with all of the poeple of insert city here. This afternoon, I walked into the kitchens of the Mercado Central in Quito, and found myself at Corvina don Jimmy's--a 50 year old Quiteño establishment known for serving the finest (and cheapest) sea bass around. For $2.50, I was able to find myself diving into a bowl of shrimp ceviche and a plate of sea bass with papas y arroz. It was easily one of the most amazing things I have eaten thus far. The best part of the experience though, was interacting with the cooks and servers. I'm not sure if they were laughing at me because I was the only Gringo in the entire Market, or if it was because I had no idea how to properly eat Corvina (sea bass). Either was, a good time was had by all, and I left with a full, happy, stomach. If you ever find your way to Quito, I would definitely suggest stopping by. Tell them the tall gringo sent you (El gringo alto me dijó que neccesitaría tratar la Corvina--I think that is right, given a few spelling errors...).


From L-R: Shrip Ceviche, Jugo de Mora, Corvina con arroz y papas, y palomitas

I spent the rest of my day exploring the Old Town of Quito, the cities historic center. I wasn't in a museum mode, and therefore only walked around to acclimate myself to the city. It certainly is beautiful, despite the fact that I am almost desensitized to colonial architecture. If you've seen an arch, you've seen an arch right? Making it more obvious to me that the focus of my trip, and possibly my life, is the people that I have and will come accross. I won't get too deep here though, as there are some thoughts I need to keep for myself.



Another thing of note is that Ecuadorians do not like Texans. They (of those I have spoken with) do, however, very much like Hugo Chavez. If you would like to understand more about this, I have heard that you can find such information in the books Armed Madhouse and Confessions of an Economic Hitman. Or, of course, you can ask an Ecuadorian.

I miss home, and am wondering why anybody would ever really want to travel alone. Though, in thinking about that, I think I've learned that independence is not just learning how to make your own decisions, its also learning how to not make decisions for others. As you ponder that, I will say goodnight to this now slumbering town. Think about it...


A different kind of haziness