Easter Cuy

Happy Easter! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday and were surrounded by loved ones. I had a wonderful day.  We slept in forever, woke up to a wonderful breakfast of müesli y cafe, went horseback riding, ate some more, and relaxed in a very beautiful place.  We finally made it to Ricardo`s farm (Ricardo is the Ecuadorian who has lived in the states for 10 years, so he speaks English pretty well). His farm is about 45 minutes away from Pimampiro, up in the mountains.  He (his parents) have a huge house, tons of rooms, several kitchens, huge piece of farm land, horses, guinea pigs, and cows. The whole shebang. The town itself is called El Tambo, and it consists of about 60 families, although when I did a vuelta today on Luna the horse, I only saw about 25 houses. Very small, peaceful, quiet.  Makes Pimampiro look like a metropolis  :) Yesterday we started the day in Otavalo, which is said to be the world`s largest open air market.  It was pretty big, lots of people came down from the mountains to sell their goods.  So we did some shopping, ate a $1.50 almuerzo, and went back to Ibarra. Ricardo picked us up from there and off we went to El Tambo.  We had a wonderful evening, drank good wine, cooked a nice dinner (I got to de-poop a lot of shrimp), and sat outside in the pitch blackness with only a candle burning because the electricity went out on the whole mountain side. Pretty crazy. I have always wanted to live like Laura Ingalls, and I finally got my chance. Riding the horse. Ricardo saddled up his two horses, I jumped on the first one, and Jana got on the second one.  Luna, my horse, turned out to be a little crazy. "You have to show her who`s in charge," Ricardo tells me as Luna is running into the crop field and refusing to move when I tell her to. It took me about 20 minutes of swearing and yelling (in English so Luna didn`t understand), before I felt like I had some sort of control.  The guy sitting on the corner in town told me to use my reign tail as a whip, which helped a little. I still couldn´t really get her to stop when I wanted to, and if she didn`t want to go where I wanted to go, we didn`t go that way. Oh well. We managed. Riding through the fields in the mountains was all very brokeback mountain feeling. It was beautiful.  She also had her 3 month old baby following her (us), which made the tight squeeze spaces even tighter. She was pretty cute though. Jana`s horse on the other hand refused to go any faster than a slow walk.  Which Ricardo told us after about 45 minutes of riding around the town that her horse was pregnant. It makes sense now. Jana was kicking her baby. She didn`t feel like running. Easter dinner.  We ate guinea pig (cuy).  Yum. Mariela, the woman that cooks and cleans for Ricardo on the weekends, prepared 6 or 7 cuys for us. Long process. She killed them in the morning, skinned them, gutted them, cleaned out their innards, boils them, then bakes them. Whew. They were really good, but it was little awkward eating an animal with it`s head and legs attached. I took one with a happy face though. Some of them looked really upset. It was a great easter dinner, but grandma, nothing can compare to your ham.

Semana Santa (Holy week) was a great time to be in Pimampiro. There are a lot of traditions here that are unique to this town.  Thursday night there were three processions: 9pm, midnight, and 3am. Tons of people gather in the street and walk around the town singing a certain song, and carrying a huge cross. This cross is 2.5 kintales, which we decided is about 120 pounds, and is carried by one person at a time. So we walk slow. The song they sang was really beautiful, a cappella.  It reminded me of this time in Haiti when I was working a night shift and around 3am, a  group of people dressed in white came to the gates of the hospital and were singing and playing instruments. It was one of the moments you wish you could freeze and that would never end. You close your eyes, breathe, and try your hardest to remember the perfection of the moment.  We walked with both the 9pm and midnight processions, which end at the church.  The church was filled with incense, so much that the air was thick. Before the midnight procession, we were hanging out with Carmen Amelia (Elena`s daughter) and her friends.  Carmen Amelia informed us that we were waiting outside the church because some one was going to steal "Diosito," from the church and go running by.  This translation was a little confusing. "They`re going to steal Little God??" "Yes, God." "Where is God? What is it?" "God is in the church, and someone is going to steal Him." "On purpose?? Is this planned? Should we stop them? They`re stealing God? What does He look like?" "It`s planned. God is inside the church." Ok, sounds good. Let`s stick around and we`ll finally get to see what God looks like!  Who knew that God was in Pimampiro?? No I. Welllllllllllll, total bummer, we got there too late. God had already been stolen .A little disappointing. It turns out that Diosito is Jesus.  Not God. Why not Jesus (like hey-sus)?  When we went back in the church, the statue of Jesus was gone. Interesting. Never really got to the bottom of why he was stolen, where he went, and who took him.  I guess we`ll never know. The next day we went a little town called Urcuqui with Ricardo. He said that they make a big deal of Good Friday and there would be a lot going on. There wasn`t much going on. They carried a bunch of heavy things from the church (like the Jesus statue and Mary shrine) through the street, lots of death figures walking around, sickle and all. (We had seen "death" walking down the street of Pimampiro the morning before and were a little scared. There was a guy next to him carrying an offering tray. We didn`t pay him. Seemed like bad karma. But we luckily got to redeem ourselves. We paid a total of 55 cents to death in Urcuqui between the four of us. Seemed sufficient). By this time we were desensitized to the whole man of death thing.  They were just regular people walking around in all black ku-klux-klan looking outfits holding sharp objects. Just another good Friday right? We did however ride the ferris wheel in Urcuqui. Probably not the safest choice, but who could pass it up. The motor on it was started like a lawn mower and looked like the ever-lasting-gobstopper machine in Willy Wonka`s Chocolate Factory. Everything was rusty. We were on it for way too long. By the end I thought I was going to puke. I was wearing a skirt too, which made the escape route plan a little tricky. Luckily, we didn`t have to use it. We were ready though. Always good to plan for the worst. We also rode the "gusanito," which means little worm. It`s a car/train sort of device that is driven around the town, mostly at slow speeds (there are speed bumps), but occasionaly the driver threw in a loop or wiggle. I think it was more fun for us than the kids.  The kids ride in the back of trucks everyday, which feels sort of like riding in the gusanito. We made fools of ourselves, waving to everyone in the streets, holding up our arms like we were on a roller coaster. Later we ate some Fanesca (third time now!), and went back to Pimampiro where........there was another parade! More carrying heavy things from the church around the streets, singing, and whatnot.  

I swear we`re doing work too.  We went to the daycare in Paragachi to look around and see if there was anything we could do for them.  The building itself is pretty nice.  Clean and organized. They have 30 kids registered there, and they get $1.20 per kid per day from the government to feed them.  Most of the kids are there at 7am, and some of them stay as late as 6pm.  They all get fed two meals and two snacks per day.  Sometime more than 30 kids show up, and they have to take care of them and feed them as well.  When we walked in there was a little girl, looked about 8 months old, laying on a mat, not moving.  I eventually went over to her and picked her up. She was a limp wet noodle. No energy, little muscle tone, very little reaction to anything.  I asked the teachers about her and they said she was malnourished, like many of the children there. She is 14 months old. One teacher told me that they don`t have the money to buy a variety of food for the kids. The parents don`t have the means to feed their kids properly either. In Paragachi, there is not water for irrigation, and it is illegal to use water from the faucet to water your garden, so growing your own food is very difficult there. Paul is working on a project to get the town irrigation water.  They should have some by the end of the year. YAY! Although by Ecuadorian standards it will probably be longer. So we are going back to the daycare tomorrow to do a real check up on all the kids, and hopefully distribute some clothes and other things they need.



kids at daycare



Speaking of Paragachi, Paul bought a house! Kind of. We are trying to raise $5,000 for a house in Paragachi. I use the word house loosely.  It is a structure, walls, broken windows, dirt floors, beams where a ceiling/floor should be.  A fixer-upper with a lot of potential. It is on a piece of land that is large enough to do a nice size demonstration garden for the bio-intensive organic agriculture. It could also be a starting place for the orphanage Jana and I are dreaming of. Like I said, a lot of potential.  It would probably take another $3,000 to get everything livable and running properly. Why Paragachi? It is said to the armpit of Pimampiro. It`s small, only 150 families. There are very little resources there. Lots of mosquitoes. It`s hot and dry. It is known for it`s roughness. But there is something amazing going on there. The kids that come out of Paragachi are incredible.  Tough and talented.  There is a feeling of comradary in the community that is palpable.  When you have nothing, you get creative and close.  Connected.

Agua. I would just like to take a moment to talk about water. It`s been raining like crazy here, more rain than they have seen in a lone time. Good right? Poop no. All of the rain is causing a lot of landslides, which are breaking the pipes that carry water. For over two weeks now there has been very little water available in Pimampiro. We rejoice when we turn on the faucet and water comes out. Showering is tricky. When there is water, it`s freezing. Not like lukewarm cold, but ice. Terrible. I have not been showering much. Yum. We have also been filling up trashcans and buckets whenever there is water, so we can use it when we need it. Let me tell you how fun it is to wash the dishes by dunking a cup into a bucket of water every time you need a rinse. Or throwing water down the toilet instead of flushing. What we didn`t know was the when there is water now, it is not drinkable. Oops. Found that one out a little late. Elena told us it was "black water." It looked fine to me until I really paid attention to it. It`s not the clearest water I`ve ever seen, that`s for sure. You don`t want to know how my stomach feels about it. Got a little sick for a day or two, but nothing too bad. So now we have to buy bottled water, which is no fun either. I miss the days of the delicious Pimampiro tap water. So simple. So next time you feel like complaining about doing the dishes, cleaning, or that your hot shower got slightly less hot near the end, be thankful for what you do have.









death







cuy!



Never Trust a Bus with Flare

Home. We spent all day yesterday back in Ibarra, buying stuff for the apartment. Paul dropped us at this cheap, mishmash store to buy stuff for the kitchen and whatever else. Not really sure what to compare it to. Imagine a really messy person´s desk. Now that desk explodes into a store. We managed to buy everything we needed for the aparment for pretty cheap. A lot of it is plastic, but it works. The gas tank was as much as the stove we bought. Dang. About $65 for each. But it´s only $3 to refill the tank, and they last awhile, so that´s good news. It´s Holy week here in South America, which means a lot of festivities. Last night we attended the annual "trueque" in Pimampiro. People from all around gather in Pimampiro to trade things. No exchange of money permitted. The goal is to obtain everything needed to make fanesca, the traditional soup eaten during holy week. Fanesca includes, many beans (cho-chos, lima beans), grains (rice, flour, quinua), peanuts, fish (bacalhao-what is it?!?!?!?), squash, eggs, plantains, bolitos (fried bread), cheese, milk, butter, and a partridge in a pear tree. It was basically a big party. Live music, tons of people everywhere. Traditionally it lasts from 6pm until 6am, but we left around midnight so I´m not sure if the tradition prevails. We were given many things (mostly shots of various alcohol, one felt like moonshine) and traded with panela (bricks of pure sugar cane).  It was a truly beafutiful experience. Paul played guitar and sang with some folks, kids stayed up too late, the drunks were thriving. Who could ask for more? I feel very privlidged to have been a part of it.

I am finally home. It took a long time to get here, but I have arrived. Jana, Kaite, and I are now living in an apartment in Pimampiro.  Paul found it and signed on it for us a few days ago.  We arrived to Pimampiro on Wednesday, threw some matresses into the apartment, and here we are. Muchas gracias a Paul for everything. It is truely amazing how things work out. Let me start from the second beginning. Katie (Jana´s friend from Haiti) arrived in Guayaquil last Thursday night. As it turns out, Paul had an overnight layover in Guayaquil that night, so we scooped him up from the airport and took him to the "house." After many hours of conversation, we decided to take Katie and come back to Pimampiro, instead of going to Lima as we had planned. This was not without heartbreak. I am hesitant to write about this, as it is public, but a blog is journal, and I will treat it as such. Katie, Jana, and I left MMRC sooner than we had promised. Jana and I were in Guayaquil for five days instead of the promised two weeks. The environment in the house was less than ideal. Everyone was tense all of the time. Every conversation turned into an argument, and rarely was anything productive accomplished. So we left. I am sorry for those that were hurt in the process, but I know the decision was right for me.

So we went to Montañita, a small beach town about 2.5 hours away from Guayaquil. It was a much needed break. This town is a surfer´s dream and a partier´s paradise. Needless to say we had a lot of fun. The three of us actually took surf lessons (awesome!). Never in my life did I think I was going to try to surf, especially from someone teaching me in Spanish. We had to practice in the surf school before we went in the ocean. Basically, you lay flat on your stomach on the board, when you "feel the waves at your feet" you begin to paddle (rema!) you pretend like your freestyling (the swim stroke not the dance move), then when "you feel the wave at your waist you arch your back and pop yourself onto your feet in one suave move. And you must land with your feet apart and knees bent (echos from my childhood of tennis playing), in the center of the board. Easy right? Sure, not so bad inside the surf school. Out in the water it was a different story. When they yell "¡posición!" ("but the wave is so close! let´s wait for the next one. no? right now? okokokok!") you belly flop onto the surf board, fix your bathing suit bottoms, move mas adelante or mas atras, depending on where you flopped, and REMA REMA REMA. Paddle or the wave will eat you. When the wave starts taking you, ARRIBA! You lift yourself up and surf into the sunset. Very easy. Or not. I maybe actaully stood up about 4 times. My knees were super bruised. Jana ran into my bottom with her surfboard at full speed, my ribs hurt from all the flopping, and I had so much water up my nose and down my throat it was hard to breath, and I think I snotted more than I ever have in my life. Cleansed.  But, it was a lot of fun. We practiced for about two hours. Side note, they scare you by telling you if you get too close to the shore, you will ruin the fins on the bottom of your surf board and you have to pay for it. So the few times I did stand up, I jumped off for fear of ruining the surfboard.  Another things we learned in Montañita.  Everyone has their own unique whistle. So, if you´re in a group of people, you whistle, your friend hears your unique whistle, and responds with his own personal whistle. Then you find each other and all is well. Interesting. It took us about two days to figure out what was going on. I am personally working on a whistle of my own. I am looking for something catchy but simple. Suggestions are welcome.  Montañita was fun, but I was done after a few days. The mountains were calling me.

I thought I had had interesting bus trips in the past, but trying to get from Montañita to Pimampiro topped them all. All started out fine. We took three buses until we got to what we thought was going to be the ultimate bus from Puertoviejo to Quito. About 8 hours. The plan was to stay the night in Quito, then head up to Pimampiro the next day. So we´re in Puertoviejo, expecting to have to wait 3 or 4 hours to catch a bus to Quito (that´s what everyone had told us), when a nice young gentleman comes up to us, asks us where we are going, and says "vamos, this bus is going to Quito right now." What luck! We thought we had just cut 4 hours off of our trip. The bus itself was fantastic. The front was all tricked out with tweety bird and winnie the poo stickers. Lots of Fun. The bus helper man was super nice, I asked a million questions. I even asked if the bus was going to the Northern terminal in Quito (it´s about an hour past the Southern terminal, and we were coming in from the south). He said, sure, of course we can go to the Northern terminal if that´s where you need to go. Awsome, by about 9pm there were only 5 people on the bus, the three of us, and one other couple. It was like being in a movie theater all by yourself. It was great. We told the bus helper man we were hungry, and we stopped at a "rest stop" for about 30 minutes to eat. Our own private Limosine. It was all too good to be true. Around 1130pm, the bus stops at some random corner and the bus helper man (we now know his name is Fabiano), says, "ok, get out here." When I say random corner, I mean we are on the Panamerican highway in the middle of nowhere, about an hour outside of Quito. What?! "You said we were going to Quito!!" "No, we have to wait for another bus to take you to Quito." We fight for a little, but they insist they are going south from here and if we want to go to Quito we had better get out of the bus now. EFF. So we lug our obscene amount of luggage off the bus, and wait. I insist that they wait with us since they got us into this predicament. They wait, try to flag down passing busses, no one will take our sorry souls. We have turned into hop ons. Or wannabe hops ons. We were PRAYING for a hop on. It was freezing mind you, raining, we had nothing warm. Miserable. So we waited outside for an hour. No one would take us. The passing buses rarely even stopped. Crap. The bus we were on was going to Ambato, which was two hours away from Quito. We asked how long it would take to get to Ibarra (where we were meeting Paul the next day) from Ambato. "Oh, about two hours." Perfect, we´ll just get back onto your lying bus, and sleep in Ambato for the night. Ambato turned out to be another 7 hours from Ibarra. We completely back-tracked for over two hours. ANGRY! So I told Fabiano that I was mad at him and that he was a liar (¡Mentiroso!), but all turned out ok. I ended up sitting in the front of the bus with the bus driver for the last 2 hours (great view and much warmer). We were freezing. Got to the hotel, took a cold shower, and froze the night away. Katie was bitten by bed bugs, all was swell. We Finally made it to Ibarra (and Paul was luckily still there!!!!), around 630pm the next day. Long journey, but we made it.


Today we ate our first meal in our new home. Luis (president of Paragachi), Sonia (university student, not 47%), and Paul joined us for breakfast. Stove (hooked up with help from Elena) worked! Fresh bread, coffee, fresh Jam, perfection. Side note again, the Jam is made from Ovos, which is a fruit that is only grown in one part of the world, the valley next to Pimampiro.  In this valley, it is said that people live the longest in the whole world. Eat more ovos! They look like cherry tomatoes, but taste sour and sweet and delicious. Until we meet again
...

Gee ain't it funny...

see the rainbow?!

...how time slips away.  April? When did that happen? Time is slip slip slippery.  I spent the morning sitting on the roof, staring at a rainbow.  I've been up since 5:30am, drinking way too much coffee and catching up on uploading photos while everyone is sleeping (the more people using the internet here, the slower it is).  Paulito had a layover here in Guayaquil last night, so we were all up until about 1:30, then I got up with him at 5:30 to make coffee/breakfast, and to make sure he made it out ok.  The elevator can be a little confusing if you're not used to it.  If you're going downstairs by yourself, it involves throwing the key sensor out of the elevator before the doors close.  It makes sense, trust me. I also, maybe (fingers crossed!), figured out how to track my location and post it to the blog, for viewers like you. It worked from here, but we'll see what happens when I change locations. Could get a little hairy. Could be kinda cool though.  Now, mom, you'll know exactly where I am at all times.  Just what you've always wanted.  It also will tell you how fast I am traveling, which could be fun.  I tried running around the hospital to test this out, but alas, I could not go fast enough for Sputnik to track me, and just ended up scaring away the one patient of the day.

There is not a whole lot going on here in Guayaquil.  BP is facing a lot of resistance from the hospital administration.  We are trying to get things together to give free surgeries to those who need them in the area.  This obviously involves a lot of planning and data collection, but the admins are making it very difficult.  They insist that everything we do, we do under their control.  For some reason (MONEY!), they are toying with out minds and emotions and making things very difficult.  We are promised vehicles and a driver, get everything ready for the day, then the vehicle/driver is all of the sudden unavailable.  Why? Control? They don't want us here?  Not really sure.  This hospital used to be a hoppin' place.  This catholic priest from Ireland ran programs here for 15 years, everyone loved him, the hospital was actually helping the poor people in the area (which is everyone. we are in the hood). Then, the priest got old, went back to the land of the green, and left the hospital under the control of the archdiocese of Guayaquil.  Now, the patients get the luxery of paying for every little part of their care.  For instance, say you had the poops for a few days, and need some IV rehydration.  Not only do you have to pay for the salt water they pump in your veins, you also have to pay for the IV catheter and the tubing.  When I say pay, I don't mean it goes on your tab.  You have to walk your poop covered, dry-veined self over to the hospital pharmacy, purchase said items, crawl back to the ED, where some kind doctor or nurse will then begin to treat you.  Meanwhile, you could have paid 25 cents to hop a bus, offended much more people in an eclosed space with your fecal aroma, and checked yourself into the government run hospital.  There you could kick back, relax, and enjoy some free care.  Why would anyone ever come to this hospital? Answer: they don't.  Yesterday, BP and I went down to the ER to shoot the poop (not literally this time), and the one doctor and one nurse informed us from their lounge chairs that there was not a single patient in the hospital.  Not in-patient. Not in the ER. Not in surgery. Nada. Moral of the story: not really sure.  It comes down to money and power.  The administration is resisting our efforts because they are afraid it will take away from their income. But maybe, having a patient or two in the hospital (even if they aren't paying), would be good for business. Word of mouth my friends.  Right? Maybe wrong. I really don't know anymore.

It all goes back to the concept of you can't give someone something they don't want.  People here have a lot of pride, and don't necessarily like foreigners ramblin' in telling them, "we can fix this miserable situation you have here." "It's our situation, and miserable is how we like it!" Something I have learned through other people's mistakes (isn't it great when you get lucky enough to learn that way!?), is that you can work and work and work and work some more, but unless it means something to the people you are helping, the second you leave, all is lost.  Look at our Irish preist friend. He were here 15 years working to make things better. Yet the second her left, BAM, back to crap.  Or Larry, the gent with the Canadian organization that works in Lima.  He built a place for kids to eat one free meal per day, but as soon as they left, the community turned it into something else. Storage? I don't remember. There are countless examples of this. So what's the answer? How does one actaully make a lasting impression?  I'm not really sure.  Find people who you can really trust to leave it with? Don't leave? Drink the immortal juice and live forever? Or maybe what you do doesn't really have to last forever. Do what you can while you're here, and if it makes one person smile for one moment in time, then it's worth it.  That seems like an easy answer to a difficult question.

Alphabet! Photo courtesy of Debby

Meanwhile, we have been waiting around in our third floor suite (CAGE!), we having been making good use of our time. Yesterday, I taught a Spanish class to the members of our team who don't know the language. I had a white board and a ruler. I was in heaven. Hopefully the lessons will continue today. Ok, hungry, jittery (caffeine!), and now sleepy. If you need me, check my GPS coordinates.

Spanish lessons. Photo courtesy of Debby

I'm a new girl!

I just took a shower with water pressure. I can't really even relay in words how good it felt.  After having water trickle on you for almost three weeks, a shower with real pressure is magic.  We are now back in Guayaquil, Ecuador with the rest of the gang.  We have added a new member, Peter, from Holland.  He is helping with logistical things. Currently, Jana and I are in the kitchen, "baking cookies."  I had to research this one, seeing as we have no oven.  Guess what happens when you google, "How to bake without and oven?" You get an article that reads, "The key to baking without an oven is to use the dutch-oven technique." Of course!!! So we rigged up a dutch oven of our very own. It consists of a pot on the stove (nothing in it, which seems like a bad idea to me), a pan on top of the pot, and a lid. Simple enough.  So we "pre-heated" the oven, plopped our oatmeal cookies on (in?), and off we go.  First batch,  burned on the bottom.  Turned "oven" down. Second batch, put butter on pan. cookies spread into disaster. Third batch, no butter on pan, lower heat, perfection.  It really is the charm.

Our last few days in Pimampiro were great.  Didn't really do anything out of the ordinary.  Thursday night we hung out with Ricardo, the Ecuadorian who has lived in the states for 20 years.  We told him about the property we found, and he insisted we go check it out.  So we find this place (which is a little confusing, especially driving at night), and he just goes right up and knocks on the gate/wall.  The poor groundskeeper comes to the door, and lets us look around (again). Ricardo of course knows the owners (everyone knows everyone!!!!), and calls them to ask about a price. We tried to get an asking price earlier, but no one could seem to come up with one.  Ricardo had the same problem.  We just found out today that they are asking $250,000, ha!, and not really interested in selling.  I of course thought that's why we were looking at it in the first place, but who knows. But it was fun while it lasted. We spent all Saturday evening and late into the night with Paul, creating a business proposal for the property.  It was a good exercise, as Paul put it. We did not know the asking price at the time.  Oh well, there will be other opportunities.

Sunday we lazed around in the morning.  First time we actaully got to sleep until we wanted to in awhile. Felt great.  We were supposed to leave on a 7:30pm bus from Ibarra (over an hour away) for Guayaquil.  When our mom called to ask about tickets available, they were not.  So we quick gathered up all of our stuff, and headed to Ibarra to see if we could catch another bus.  We ended up getting what we were told was a direct bus from Ibarra to Guayaquil.  Getting a direct bus on long journey's is important.  Most buses stop to let people on and off wherever.  When I say "wherever," I am not joking.  Last night, we let someone off next to a gaurd rail on the Pan American highway, somewhere between Quito and Guayaquil.  No town, no other road, no nothing.  Classic.  People also seem to appear out of no where and jump on the bus.  When this happens, all I can think of is the driving lesson in Arrested Develpoment on "How to Avoid Hop-Ons" (this also applies when we are riding in the truck with Paul and all of the sudden there a 10 kids in the back...). There are certain rules when riding a bus in a foreign country.  These are a few I have learned, either the hard way or from Jana.

 Bus Rules:
1. Have amount needed for the bus ride in your pocket. No bills. Coins only. (Don't be the jackass that's fumbling through $20s and asking if they have change) You will get your money stolen. This one is common sense.
2. Keep all of your things as attatched to you as possible.  Purse over head/shoulder, backpack on belly (BELLY PACK!!), anything else wrapped around part of your body that's free. Learned from other's mistakes. It's amazing how quickly someone can swipe a purse from off your shoulder.
3. If you have put stuff to be stored under the bus, you have to stick your head out the window, yes even in the rain, everytime the bus stops, to make sure no one is running off with it
4. Stuff on floor must be either between feet or wrapped around legs/ankle. Those punks will pull something from under the seat so fast. Little shits.
5. If someone sketchy starts talking to you, pretend you don't speak Spanish. If they start talking to you in English, say, "Aleman," which means "German." I haven't met too many Latin Americans with German as a second language, so it's usually a same bet.

So we thought we had gotten a direct bus. Wrong.  This is a huge pain when you have all your stuff stored under the bus (see rule number 3).  We not only made many random stops (raining!), but we stopped at both bus terminals in Quito, adding an extra hour or so to our already 11 hour journey through the night. So we get on this bus, exausted, ready to crash out.  A guy then gets on, blasting his not-so-personal, portable electronic music playing device.  I almost donated my headphones to him. Luckily, he turned it down when Rocky IV came on.  Following him was a woman screaming and crying histerically. She was upset. No doubt.  Solid start to the next 11 hours of my life.  So most of the bus drivers are crazy, passing people on the two-lane highway while rounding the curves.  This fellow was exceptional.  After he stalled out twice in 3 miles, we began to have our doubts.  When he clipped the small truck on the highway, the deal was sealed.  Loony.  So I took my dramimine and tried to forget about it.  All was well until we stopped in Quito and the bus passengers starting rioting and demanding that the trip was supposed to be "directo!!!!" Insanity.  I jumped off the bus at thing point (dangerous move, they will leave your ass), and ran with the other random girl to the conveniently placed bathroom, a quarter of a mile away.  We luckily made it back in time, got back on the crazy train, and went directo to Guayaquil.  What a ride...

Sad News

I believe I have spoken about Luis before. He is president of his town of Paragachi, about 100 families. He is 29 years old, makes beautiful weavings, and so on.  This morning, Jana and I were at the clinic and see Luis walk into the clinic, limping.  He made eye contact with us, but kept walking on his way.  We knew something was wrong because he usually comes up and greets us.  When we finally got a good look at him, his face was all swollen, scratchd, and bruised. Last night, he found some kids spraying graffitii on one of the buildings in Paragachi. He told them to stop, and they beat the crap out of him.  Terrible. He is one of the nicest, most calm, humble person I have met. When we asked if he faught back, he said no, he couldn`t because he is the president of his town and has to set an example.  Heart breaking.  So Jana and I tended to him while he waited 2 hours for his paper work. The kids that did it, minors, are in a juvinille jail in Ibarra, about an hour from here.  So after being up all night, waiting over 2 hours at the clinic, Luis had to ride for over an hour to Ibarra to talk to a lawyer to press charges against the kids.  They have apparently been causing trouble in Paragachi for awhile. Sad news.

Better news.  Jana and I went with our mom yesterday to look at this piece of property that her friend is selling in Pimampiro.  This piece of property is amazing. Tons of rooms, POOL, huge orchard.  Perfect place for an orphanage. Long story, but our other friend of course knows the family selling it as well, so he called for us and asked how much they wanted. They don`t know right now, but this place would be perfecto!  Wish us luck.