A Warm Pair of Socks

My interview for the Bonderman Fellowship came on a day that I had to give an address to an audience who had come for the opening of the Visions of Valor Exhibit on the Univeristy of Washington campus. Normally, giving an address would not have been that big of a deal, but the VoV exhibit happened to run in conjunction with the fundraising efforts for a memorial dedicated to former students and Alumni of the University of Washington who had been awarded the Medal of Honor (If you're interested in the whole story, you can access background materials here, in chronological order: 1, 2, 3). Without going into the whole story, and in the spirit of getting to the point, I was a very nervous kid that day. I'm not sure if I was confident, although I do know that I had dressed really nice that day (at least by my standards). I don't remember my interview going very well, and, in fact, I can't even really remember any of the questions, let alone my answers--except one.



Last night, as I sat in my hotel room with a fire ablaze, I started to miss home about as bad as I have yet. I've now been gone for over a month--the longest that I have ever been away from some kind of stable environment with the majority of my belongings. Being the human that I am, I instinctively scoured the room for the things that would bring me the most comfort... There was this amazing apple pie from the Pie Shop in downtown Otavalo, coffee, water, blankets, fire, a dog outside my door, etc. and nothing quite did the trick. Aside from just going to sleep, I had no idea what I could do. Then, as I rustled through my backpack, it dawned on me--a pair of socks. A nice warm pair of ultra comfy wool socks. My mind immediately flashed back to that interview and I remember Brook--the BF advisor--asking me what essential things I would bring. I said socks, because you aren't always guaranteed a hot shower, nor can you feasibly pack a blanket. They warm your feet and eventually your heart (I'll openly admit I was certainly not this cheesy during the interview). I put on my socks--a pair that my mom had bought for me before I left on this grand venture--and apparently the answer to the question turned out to be the right one for me.

The Saturday Market

Since having moved to Seattle, and having traveled to a country or two, I've developed a tremendous appreciation for open air markets. You have to admit, there is nothing better than getting up on a non-football Saturday, grabbing some coffee and heading down to Pike Place to snag some produce and maybe some flowers for your mom. Seriously though, what is more impressive than cramming thousands of different varieties of produce, livestock, clothing, crafstmanship and people all into one place at the same time? If you want an open air market in Ecuador, there are thousands. However there is one, that on any given Saturday, is supposed to be the best.

Otavalo, a town in Northern Ecuador (it's Winter there and Summer here--only two seasons), is home to what is perhaps Ecuador's largest, and definitely its most famous, open air market. It's also home to the indegenous Otavaleño people, whose ancestors have inhabited the area dating back to 13000 BC. Otavaleño's are known throughout Ecuador for their strong character, maintanence of tradition, and ever-evolving business savvy. Every Saturday morning, thousands of Otavaleños (and a whole lot of tourists) crowd the streets of Otavalo in order to showcase (and sell) handmade wool products, jewelry, clothing, yarn, panama hats (which are incorrectly named as they actually originate from Ecuador's town of Monticristi), food, livestock, produce, and the list goes on and on. The market engulfs the entire city, filling up every square inch of every single street. It was an amazing sight to say the least.





A bus ride from Quito to Otavalo takes about two hours on a good day. On a great day, it would take you a coupld of hours more. I arrived in O on Friday afternoon, and needed to find a place to stay. Luckily, I stumbled across a hotel slightly outside of the city, nestled in the rolling hills of Northern Ecuador, complete with a fireplace. The evening found me exploring the city in order to orient myself with the streets. Plus, I desperately wanted take in the amazing landscape and fresh mountain air that you just can't find in a big city. Oh, and I found this killer pie shop, which added to my conclusion that I'm actually traveling in order to eat all over the world. Food brings people together, right?



The market can start as early as 5am, at least when it comes to the animals. I woke up early, but eventually decided that I had seen enough cows in my life (having been from Nebraska and having worked on a farm) and I needed to sleep in. Eventually, my 6'5" frame lumbered downtown, and I immediately started seeing what kind of deals I could make. That damn competitive spirit. I don't know if I'm a consumer (which I would be pretty ashamed of... sort of...), if I just really enjoy bartering/getting a deal, or both. The fact that I never really get or barter for anything for myself helps me think that maybe I just have a bartering problem. But I digress... I love interacting with people, especially from small towns (in other countries). Despite the fact that there were hundreds of tourists on hand for the market, it still felt incredibly communal. Eventually, the busy scene tired me and I headed back up to my mountain abode.

I think that the other reason I decided to go to Otavalo so soon after having arrived in Ecuador was that I wanted to slow things down before I sped up again. Being able to have the opportunity to choose whether or not you wanted to enter the fast(er) placed life is something that I've already come to really cherish about living--for lack of a better word to describe what I'm doing--on the outside, or completely away from, the centers. My short time in Otavalo, along with my month in Guanajuato, have really hammered this concept into my head. Of course, it has its downsides too, but who wants to read about that? (If you do, just let me know and I can whip something up real quick... ha) Anyway, my time in Otavalo really just allowed me to relax and withdraw, even if just for a quick second. I went wandering out in the hills and ran into these:







Of course, I knew that they existed, but when I went out I had no intention of finding them. It just happened.

Anyway, its time for bed. After all, I'm going to need sleep if I'm going to get back in the fast lane.